The Tale of a Revolutionary (Pt. 3)

Living Water Across America... Maybe?

At the end of my last post we'd gotten our bus engine working and were ready to set out for California.

We packed everything we owned in to the bus and a 1968 Corvair my uncle had given me. We said goodbye to our college friends who were just getting back to start school and drove away...

Not very far away because the battery on the bus was pretty old, we had no money to replace it and were hoping that the generator would charge it better as we drove along. Sadly that was not the case... Every time we stopped at a stop-sign we had to pull out the jumper cables and start "Dave Thurston" as we now called the bus.

       

After the fifth jumper-cable outing, and about an hour-and-a-half we weren't even out of town yet. Since I had to be at my new job just one week later, and at the rate we were going we'd still be in South Bend, Indiana (about 30 miles away) by that time, We needed a plan B.

We dicided that I would rent a U-Haul and put Charlie's stuff, my stuff and our PA in there and head west. Gary would get the bus back to a parking spot and see what he could do about the battery situation. I offered, again, to buy the bus from him and let him get on with life... Being young and daring, he wasn't ready to admit defeat. He'd just get the bus running and join us in a little while.

I only ever saw Dave Thurston one time after that night, but that's a story for another time...

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As an Aside... Here's a picture of the real Dave Thurston Family (circa about 1976.) We found it on the bus as we were cleaning it out over the summer.


       

They were a southern gospel group out of Battle Creek Michigan and they owned the bus before we did. The younger Dave Thurston still runs a southern gospel group out of Holt, Michigan. Check them out at: www.thethurstonfamily.org if you enjoy southern gospel.

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The next morning Charlie and I set off for the San Francisco Bay area where my folks were living. We had some friends along the way so we had plans to stop and see them as we went. Shelly Solomon had gone back to Union College that year so we stopped in Lincoln, Nebraska and slept the night on her living-room floor. The next morning we got up grabbed lunch with her in the school cafeteria, took a tour through the church (where we hoped to do a concert someday) and pushed on.

For those of you reading in other countries, the topography of the US is such that when you leave Lincoln, Nebraska and head west you're going uphill most of the way. It's a fairly gradual climb but fairly constant. Then there's quite a dip into Salt Lake City, Utah and then you climb again into the high plains of northern Nevada until you crest in the high Sierra range and then descend into the California central and costal valleys.

The Corvair has an air cooled engine and needs lots of fresh air rushing through it's cooling fins to stay at safe operating temperatures. We were pulling a trailer uphill across the high plains and the engine was running very hot. At a gas stop on the Nevada state line, we checked the oil and decided to leave the engine cowling open to help it cool more efficiently and pressed on. A few hours later, as we were climbing a long hill, we heard a loud BANG! and we began to loose power immediately. We pulled off to the side, the engine was clanking like mad, but couldn't see anything wrong in the engine compartment. We shut it off and, when we tried to start up again, it wouldn't re-start. It had thrown a rod deep into the cylinder wall.

Late September in Nevada is still fairly warm most days, but at night it gets pretty cold. It was night we were stranded on highway 80 about twelve miles east of Battle Mountain, Nevada. It was about 2am Saturday morning and we weren't seeing any traffic go by at all. We could have just pulled out our cell-phones and called triple-A, but cell-phones wouldn't be readily available for about 12 years so we sat, and shivered, and laughed, and waited. At dawn, a car went by. We decided that we'd take turns hitch-hiking to see if one of us could get into town. I took the first stretch of about 30 minutes and nobody stopped. Charlie got out and within a few minutes a guy in a pick-up stopped and gave us a ride into town.

He dropped us off in front of the Owl Club Saloon and Casino and we went in to make a call. I called my dad, caught him just as he was getting up for church, and told him what was happening. He said "sit tight and I'll make some calls." We sat down at the bar near the phone and waited.


       

The Owl Club, in 1978, was like a picture from the old westerns. Built along the railroad tracks before the roads went through, it has a long rich history as the hub of Battle Mountain social life.

A huge wooden bar, with mirrors behind, ran the length of one wall and was strewn with stools and a big brass foot-rail. Feeling a bit like Butch and Sundance, we ordered our diet Dr. Peppers and turned around to survey the scene. A few of the local denizens were still playing cards and one guy of indeterminate age, obviously a hard drinker, was sitting at the bar. He called out loudly to the bar-keep, "Mike, you know I could be working today if I was in Lovelock, but I'm *!&%$ing stuck here in Battle Mountain." Then he turned to us and said "You're not from around here." It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. I said "no we're just passing through..." I couldn't believe this was happening, TV dialog coming to life and we were in the middle of it. He said, "Sounds to me like you've got some trouble." So we told him our story as we sat and waited for our call. When I ended up by saying "I've called may dad and he's going to send help," he turned and looked straight at us. "As long as you have a dad you can call you'll be OK."

Just then the phone rang...
My dad and uncle were bringing a motor home to take us and our stuff the rest of the way.

We bought a six-pack of Diet Dr. P , said goodbye to our new friends, and set out to find the sheriff's office. We thought maybe he'd give us a ride back to the car and trailer, but he said he'd only take us as far as the edge of town. "Stick out your thumb and I'll check back on you in a couple hours. If you haven't gotten a ride, then maybe I'll take you out..." he said. And with that he took off.

We waited for just a few minutes when a carload full of guys stopped and said, "Whatcha got in the bag?" We told them it was Dr. Pepper and that we were headed back out to our car. "We'd hoped it was Coors," they said. "Hop in we'll give you a ride."

Have you ever done something and almost immediately begun to regret it? As we sped away, throwing gravel, I realized that these were the same guys who'd spent the night drinking and playing cards at the Owl Club. They'd had a lot to drink and were feeling no pain.

It turns out hey were a crew that went across the whole of the US working on the railroad tracks. They drove a big old Cadillac, they called it their "Cataract, because it's an eyesore." We stopped by their home on wheels, a train of cabooses that they lived in while they were working, and picked up some "doobie.' Then we all sped out to our car weaving and lurching. I'm sure we spent nearly as much time in the median as on the road. For a kid from Christian college, not very worldly-wise it was a white knuckle ride, but we got there finally, with me praying all the way.

About six hours later my dad showed up with my uncle and his motor-home. They brought a friend who came to pull the trailer to the next town with a U-Haul station to drop it off.

We loaded everything into the motor-home and hit the bunks while my uncle drove us on to California. We'd been up for about 48 hours and were dead on our feet. Although there were some adventures between Battle Mountain and Pleasant Hill, where my folks were living, we slept through them all. We crossed the Sierras into California sound asleep. We'd wake to a new adventure the next day, my first day at the new job.

I never forgot what the man at the bar said... "As long as you have a dad to call you'll be OK." Now that I am a dad, I know that those calls are ahead for me too. I'm beginning to feel what my dad might have been feeling when he got a call for help. It also helps me understand a bit of what God feels when we call on Him. He doesn't ignore us but moves every agent at His disposal to do what is best for us. Knowing that makes me want to be an "agent at His disposal" for others who are in need.

Let me in on some of your stories of change and growth. Click on the comments link below, next to "posed by allan clarke, "and leave me a note or story about your memories of "God moves" in your life.

The Tale of a Revolutionary (Pt. 2)

At the end of yesterday's post, I'd decided to quit school and do what I thought I did best... travel and sing Gospel music.

Bob Velting, our baritone, Jim Feldbush, our very talented bass player, and all the girls had decided to remain in school. With Gary Peters as our tenor, Charlie Gilbert singing bass, and me on lead we still had the basis of a good sound. We looked around for the best female vocalists who were up to the challenge and added, what were probably, the two best female singers from the college to form a new touring group. I think it was about this time we changed our name to Living Water. We'd have that name for years to come in many incarnations...

We did some rehearsals together, took some promo pictures, and did a mini-concert at a local youth meeting before the girls both took off to work at summer camp. Gary and I stayed at the college, working in the grocery store, to earn some capital and get the bookings solidified for the fall. Charlie went home to work for a masonry contractor for the summer. We were jazzed, this was going to be great!

       

Gary traded his car for a bus so we'd have something to travel in. We got it towed from Kalamazoo to Berrien Spring because it had a seized piston. We didn't see that as a big issue, we had a diesel mechanic who'd let us pick his brain and access to the college motorpool shop for the summer. We worked days at the store and split the evenings between sending out letters to seek concert dates and working on the bus engine.

       

We got out a map of the US and planned a tour. Then we looked up denominational churches along that route and sent promo packets to every church remotely close to that itinerary. We told them what we were about, that we were college students wanting to "do something special" for the Lord and offered to do a program at their church for a love offering.

Then we kept working on the bus...

       


Pretty soon the letters started coming in from churches on our planned tour route. Churches we'd been in before were glad to have us back, but something else was happening that we hadn't anticipated. Some of the churches had checked with campus ministries and found that we were "not school sponsored." Because of that they were "reluctant to offer us their platform." Even though we were good students in good standing and active in on-campus spiritual organizations... Even though we were the children of denominational employees, we were still being blacklisted by the University.

We were crushed. but still hoped that tide would turn. As the summer progressed, it became clear that we had no Fall Tour. We'd be lucky to have 10 dates booked. The girls checked in from time to time and as the news continued to degrade, they decided to return to school.

Charlie finished up his summer work and joined us back in Berrien Springs. We grieved and schemed, planned and dreamed, but we had no group and no tour. Then my parents called from their new posting in California and asked how it was going. I had to be honest. we were at an impasse, and I felt responsible. I felt I should buy the guys out and just give up.

My folks told me there was a job for a printer at denominational headquarters in Pleasant Hill, CA. I prayed about it and decided to take the job. I talked to the guys and offered to buy them out, but they wouldn't hear of it. They'd wrapped up all their affairs in Michigan and thought they'd come to California with me. We could build the rest of a team out there and still do weekends. Gary's wife had lined up a nursing job in St. Helena, CA and Charlie was going to stay with me at my parents house in Pleasant Hill and find a job.

So there I was leading my first cross-country ministry move. What and adventure.

It's only recently that I have come to realize how much life changed for those guys I was doing life with. How important it is for a leader to "look out for" the people he leads, and how loyal people will be if they know you're "for them." That's a big responsibility, and a great honor.

We got the bus engine finished and the night came for us to leave. I'll take up the story again in part three.

Have you ever seen a dream twisting in the wind? Have you ever thought you were on the edge of something you'd always hoped and planned for, only to have it die while you looked on helpless? Have you given everything for a good cause, only to have it thwarted by another person's political ambitions? But God hasn't left you... He grieves with you for those dreams. And he always has another plan, another job, another chance... another dream designed just for you.

Share your "dream stories," and what you learned through their pursuit, by leaving a comment here. What is God stirring in your spirit now? What's your next hill to climb with God?

        

The Tale of a Revolutionary (Pt. 1)

Are you a passionate follower of Christ who finds "religion" a drag? Do you feel out of touch with, or always trying to pump some life into your local church? Do you ever wonder who said excellence, creativity and authenticity where "not wrong but we just don't do" them? Do you, through a supreme effort of will, still attend church because you feel it's something you must do? Have you just drifted away because the whole "church thing" doesn't challenge or engage you anymore?

Yet you still read the Bible, you pray before meals and when you feel the need for God, which you'll admit is almost all the time. You serve the poor or donate generously to feed the hungry. You've taken on the responsibility to "work out your own salvation..." by knowing the mechanism and the person, Christ, through whom your salvation is assured.

Then according to George Barna you may already be, or have the makings of a revolutionary. After reading his book "Revolution," I think I've been one for a long time.

Barna says of Revolutionaries...

"They have no use for churches that play religious games, whether those games are worship services that drone on without the presence of God or ministry programs that bear no spiritual fruit. Revolutionaries eschew ministries that compromise or soft sell our sinful nature to expand organizational turf. They refuse to follow people in ministry leadership positions who cast a personal vision rather than God's, who seek popularity rather than the proclamation of truth in their public statements, or who are more concerned about their own legacy than that of Jesus Christ. They refuse to donate one more dollar to man-made monuments that mark their own achievements and guarantee their place in history. They are unimpressed by accredited degrees and endowed chairs in Christian colleges and seminaries that produce young people incapable of defending the Bible or unwilling to devote their lives to serving others. And revolutionaries are embarrassed by language that promises Christian love and holiness but turns out to be all sizzle and no substance.."

Barna goes on to say that the seven passions of Revolutionaries are:

• Intimate Worship
• Faith-Based Conversations
• Intentional Spiritual Growth
• Servanthood
• Resource Investment
• Spiritual Friendships
• Family Faith

Do you resonate with any of those? I sure do!

My earliest memories of church were me sitting on the pew wondering why things were so haphazard... Did they make this stuff up in the office before they came on the platform... I was 5 years old.

In our church we had one microphone for the speaker and one for prayer. Both were controlled by one volume control from a hallway just outside the sanctuary near the back. It was a large black phenolic knob (we'd call it a "retro" looking knob today but this was the early "60's so it was very Now-Tro then...) It just stuck out of the wall about 6.5 to 7 feet above the floor (so the kids wouldn't "mess with it....") I turned around that morning when the system feedback caught my attention and saw the shortest adult male deacon in the church straining to reach that knob to operate the PA. At five I wasn't sensitive to people's desire to serve or sacrificing to help the church... I just couldn't believe they had the shortest adult I knew, trying to work that knob which seemed to be miles above his head. I didn't know about spiritual gifts but I had an instinctive sense that people should be matched with their strengths not their "SHORT" comings. I distinctly remember thinking that we should do better than that.

To be fair, I also remember a baptism weekend where the singing was spirited and joyous... Where we sang old hymns like "Power in the Blood" or "Rolled Away... Every Burden on My heart is Rolled Away." I could just feel the power, excitement and joy as another fresh new soul came up out of those waters. I remember asking my father why we didn't sing like that all the time. he told me we "weren't that happy all the time." I thought to myself, "When people got baptized we're happy... the rest of the time we were bored, quiet and sad. Maybe if we were happier, more people would get baptized... then we'd be happier and more people would get baptized." Seemed like an excellent church growth strategy to me at 5!

But as I grew I began to see that church was "what it was." It had no real interest in being dynamic, or a force for change... not in it's community, or anywhere else. In fact the adults seemed to love quoting the "I am the Lord, I change NOT" mantra.

I'll admit there were people who lived "on the God edge..." Missionaries, those who cared for the poor (on Tuesdays between noon and 3PM) and guys who sold denominational books door-to-door, we called them colporteurs. We'd pray every night that God would "Bless the missionaries and colporteurs..." I remember thinking that one day maybe I'd like to have an adventure with God, but I knew when we heard their stories that I was not likely to ever be that bold, quick thinking or crazy. Those guys were the "berzerkers" of our denomination, they were too independent to work their way very far up the organizational ladder. But as a pre-teen, I didn't even understand the ladder...

I think I was wired from birth to look at what was, and see what could be... My mother always said that I was a good kid, but I seemed to live by the motto "It's easier to get forgiveness than permission." I was the kid that would talk the other kids into following me on some grand scheme, or adventure.

At eleven I sold popcorn at the local denominational boarding High-School and bought a guitar. Then I talked a couple of my friends into begging their folks until they got guitars too. We got some of the girls from our class and formed a small contemporary/folk group (circa 1970) to perform for evangelistic meeting in our area.

I was hooked... I didn't need anybody's permission. If I had a mission, and could pull together a team, I could get support from adults. If we worked hard we could really contribute! I formed and toured with groups all the way through high-school. We'd perform in churches on the weekends, and even do small to medium sized tours of the midwest, northeast and eastern Canada.

Here's one of those high-school groups, The Sonlight Gospel Singers, pausing for a photo at Niagara Falls on March 27, 1976.

       

I went to a denominational college and formed a group there my freshman year. We sang for chapels, vesper programs, campmeetings, and churches all around the midwest. We even recorded a 6 song cassette to sell at our concerts. I had a mission and was feeling a sense of God leading. I was a young leader and pretty green, but I loved the kids I worked with and through their patience and honesty they taught me a lot about leadership and about community... about doing life together.

       

       

Then someone or something "flipped the switch!" My sophomore year we re-formed and thought we'd have another exciting year... but we "couldn't get arrested," on campus or in the churches close-by. They were polite and thanked us for our ministry last year... but "No" they didn't have any open dates for us this year.

I asked a friend who was on the student ministry council what was up... He told me that he'd gone to bat for us but the sponsors had just said "We've got to support our own." It seems that the college had formed their own "witnessing team." and was actually PAYING them to do what we'd already been doing at no cost to the school. Despite our working together with them the previous year, they had taken our idea and format and asked a returning student-missionary to form a "clone group" to ours.

I eventually lost a good friend and great tenor singer because his brother was the "returning student-missionary" and he couldn't stand the tension at home. I'd seen my first volley of church-politics up close and personal. We had to seek ministry opportunities further from the campus. Since we were paying our own way by doing part-time jobs while going to school, it was a hard year. We did a lot of concerts that year though, and even a ten-day spring tour across Ontario, New York and Pennsylvania. But we never got to sing on campus because we were not "school sponsored."

That took it's toll on us... We went through more personnel that year than any before or since. I think we had 5 different line-ups between September and January. Then in February we formed this lineup. These kids were all leaders and great singers. In spite of the "blacklisting" God gave us the gift of some of the best times on the road I've ever enjoyed.

       

       

As an interesting aside, the school sponsored group did buy a big sound system, (spending about $25,000 1978 dollars,) they did get paid, and they did actually do ONE chapel performance. That was IT! I learned an important lesson from that whole event... You value what you work for... Pet projects often fail for lack of something to strive against (like extinction!)

As my Sophomore year was winding down, my parents were looking for a new job. My father, an ordained minister, had been the Bible-teacher, assistant principle, and pastor at the boarding academy I'd attended. The conference had decided to cut staff and since my dad was ordained and had his masters degree in secondary Ed administration. They thought he'd have an "easier time getting work" at another academy. The other bible teacher wasn't ordained and had no advanced degree... so he was less marketable.

Problem was, they made this decision late in the school-year and all the others schools had done their hiring already. The brethren had yanked his job, because he was "so qualified," and left him hanging.

My dad was crushed! He did find a job for the next year on the other coast, a very poor fit both for his skills and passions(teaching grade school instead of High-School) and his culture (he was just to conservative to "fit in!")

I decided to quit school and "go on the road" full time with my gospel group. I thought a lot about what had happened over those two years in college. I was preparing for the ministry with an additional major in music. I just couldn't go on preparing to work for an organization with so much intrigue. I needed some time to hear from God.

And I believe He spoke to me... He said, "I didn't let you go, the church did." They weren't unhappy with either of my dad or me, they saw that we tried to be men of integrity and dedication. In the end, they just wanted "company men" in those positions. Ironically, I think my dad was a much stronger "God seeking" man, and more loyal to "the company" than the guys that made the decision. I have to admit that although I had been a company man... I wasn't any longer, and never would be again...

I think it was at that point that I became a borderline revolutionary. I realized that God didn't make those decisions that had hurt us so deeply. he didn't de-value our service... men did. I decided to do my best from that point on to "cut out the middle man..." the organized church. I started to look to God for my marching orders.

He had them for me too! Not always when and where I expected them, and not without some cost. There are a lot more stories between that day and this one. Stories of how God changed me, bit by bit, from a passionate (but disillusioned) young man into the "Revolutionary" I think I'm becoming. Tune in tomorrow for Part 2.

Share some stories here about your journey. Have you had to choose between your family and God, between your denomination and your family, between your denomination and GOD!? Tell us what God did for you... and in you, during those times.

       

Is It Just "Boomers?"

As I talk to friends, former classmates, and people who have long-ago disengaged from their inherited church, I hear some of the same things... Across all age groups!

• "Church doesn't seem to have a purpose."
• "It's an inwardly focused agenda. 'How can we build up our franchise,' not what can we do to share Christ."
• "They don't seem to need me, or my ideas, just my money."
• "It's all about disengaging from my culture and getting in tune with some retro-culture that I can't relate to."
• "My friends would be bored at best and more likely freaked-out by our services. I could never bring them."

From some of my friends in progressive "Seeker-Targeted Churches" I hear...

• "We use elements of our current culture but we still don't have much time for the people IN the culture."
• "We engage our culture through music and the arts, we talk about God, but we never ENGAGE or encounter God."
• "It's kind of like a 'Preacher's Kid Variety Show" where we see how close to the culture we can get without sinning"
• "We get fresh new ideas in programming, but the mission get's fuzzy. What are we suppose to be DOING?"
• "It's all programmed and ready to go. We're in, we're out, next service is starting... What about community."
• "We've dropped the ball on 'making a difference' we're putting all our effort into 'The Show' each week."

Do you resonate with any of those statements? What could a "NextChurch" do to fix what seems to be broken?

Let's just start with some "What If's..." Totally in dream mode...

Let me paint a picture of a new future that's beginning to form in my heart.

What about "church" as a group of people who gather together and worship God in authentic ways., Who look to Him, through the Spirit and the Word, to find... not some over-arching answer for a global ministry cabal, but the light on their path for that day or that week.

What about a congregation that was built on community (doing life together), and focused on their community (those still far from God.).

What if we built a congregation on values instead of policies?

What if we didn't wait to have all our "ducks in a row" but viewed the whole thing as a journey. When we fail, we fail forward... When we're wrong we change and ask forgiveness... When God speaks to one of us, we trust that He's speaking and listen.

What if we could realize that God speaks to all of us at our point of need and accept the part of conviction that points to our weakness or strength and not make each impression a church policy.

What if we didn't build the church to last forever, but empowered and encouraged the people to live for today and to hunger for the eternal.

What if every new church partnered with another church, new or established, in another part of the world. Members could be encouraged to make friends via email and instant messaging. Teams from one church could visit the other for special outreach projects or church events. Resources, mentoring and prayer for one another could widen our perceived world and give us "new Ways" to view ministry, community, service, and worship.

Pick those ideas apart... What resonates with you? Do any of those ideas get your creative juices flowing?

I really believe that if we can hammer out the WHAT of a NextChurch philosophy, then the how is just going to happen one step at a time. They may be big steps and then hard fought inches, but progress is measured best in light of a goal!

Dream with me,
Allan

Here are a few more resources that have inspired my thoughts...

Stories of Emergence: Moving from Absolute to Authentic Edited by Mike Yaconelli

Uprising - A Revolution of the Soul by Erwin McManus

Emerging Churches - Creating Christian Community in Postmodern Cultures by Eddie Gibbs and Ryan K. Bolger

Who's Got The Wheel?

I've been having some conversations recently with some of my college friends. I've been excited to see what life has brought us all and where we are in our "Quest" for God's will in our lives. We're at about the same stage in life and from the same generation. We're "boomers."

We've all tried to stay hip, committed and involved in our local churches but we're really feeling that something is missing. The conservative churches are still stuck in the 50's era, and the progressive churches are targeting the "milliennials." We really can't plug-in to either group altough both have elements with which we resonate.

I've been reading a book Emerging Church.Intro recently that explains what emerging churches or "NextChurch" as I like to call them look like and what they're doing.

One thing I found interesting is that the author recognized that those of us boomers who are in, or have come from, "inherted churches" feel like we never really got to "take the wheel" of our church. What we got from our parents was not really an expression of church that fit us, either in architecture, decor, worship style, or mission, but we were powerless to change it. If we were church employees our jobs demanded that we conform to the "old ways" and if we were lay people we were marginalized by "the machine."

So here we are in our 40s and 50s still feeling like we're on the outside of our inherited churches looking in. Or those of us that have gravitated toward progressive newer churches see them targeting the "millennials" just as we're beginning to "get it" and hit our stride.

We've done the "windshield time" with God to know He's really there... to have a sense of His presence, but how do we turn that into a viable expression of church when we're kind of "tweeners..." ahead of the past but not ready or able to authentically jump into the "millennial" church.

How much does worship style factor into that?
I'd say that the style factor varies with the individual. But that's true within generations as well as across generations. What we appreciate as art, and in the arts, is widely varied. Just wander through your local Best Buy and you'll see a wider range of styles, genres, and sub-genres than ever in history. Maybe the new wave will be niche churches based on worship styles, or mission focus, as well as theological flavor.

Let me hear your thoughts on all of the above...

Allan

Here are some reading resources to spur the discussion

The Church on the Other Side by Brian McLaren

Aqua Church by Leonard Sweet

Leadership On the Other Side by Bill Easum

Present Future: Six Tough Questions For the Church by Reggie McNeal

I've read them all over the last year and they are excellent! Check 'em out.

        

Well... I'm Back!

Since my last post I've...
• Volunteered heavily at my local church, Southbrook Christian Church, here in Centerville.
• Survived kidney cancer. One kidney left and the cancer all gone!
• Re-connected with some old music/ministry friends from long ago.
• Become increasing interested in planting a "New Kind" of church.

A "New Kind" of church is what we'll focus on here over the next little while.
Drop me your feedback, ideas and comments on:
• Your experience with church.
• What church could be.
• What we can do as individuals to make church stronger and more relevant.
• How we can reach our generation (whichever generation you happen to be a part of...)

In my next post I'll share some "where are we coming from" type thoughts and questions.

See you then...

Allan