A missional question worth asking

Shawn and I are in the process of sketching out a ministry plan for our faith community (which is less about us providing answers and more about offering questions that lead toward community-generated solutions). I finally lassoed our thoughts and discernment into a single question, one that I think is very much worth asking:

What does it look like to give affirmation to already-present passions in our neighborhood, while subsequently empowering and humanizing our neighbors by modeling the potential of those passions as they intersect with, and are enhanced by, the Kingdom of the Living God?

If our community can begin to answer that question, as begin we succeed and fail actively in response to that question, I think we’re going to make a difference in Seattle.

The Justice Creed

I’m using The Justice Creed, written by Brian McLaren, in Paradigm’s liturgy this week because it touches on so many truths that are dear to the heartbeat of our young community — that the world in which we live is not the world as God would have it, but that we are invited to join the Trinity in a movement of reconciling creation (ourselves included). 

I like this creed so much that I wanted to share it in this space as well.

Check it out:

We believe that the living God is just
And that the true and living God loves justice.
God delights in just laws and rejoices in just people.
God sides with those who are oppressed by injustice,
And stands against oppressors.
God is grieved by unjust people and the unjust systems they create and sustain.
God blesses those who hunger and thirst for justice, and
God’s kingdom belongs to those willing to be persecuted for the sake of justice.
To God, justice is a weighty thing which can never be ignored.

We believe that Jesus, the Liberating King, came to free humanity from injustice
And to display the justice of God,
In word and deed, in life, death, and resurrection.
The justice which God desires, Jesus taught, must surpass that of the hypocrites,
For the justice of God is a compassionate justice,
Rich in mercy and abounding in love
For the last, the least, the lost, and the outcast.
On his cross, Jesus drew the injustice of humanity into the light,
And there the heartless injustice of human empire met
The reconciling justice of the kingdom of God.
The resurrection of Jesus proclaims that the true justice of God,
Naked, vulnerable, and scarred by abuse, is stronger
Than the violent injustice of humanity, armed with weapons, conceit,
deceit, and lies.

We believe that the Holy Spirit is here, now,
Convicting the world of sin and justice,
Warning that God’s judgment will come on all that is unjust.
We believe that the Kingdom of God is justice, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
Empowered by the Spirit, then, we seek first God’s kingdom and God’s justice,
For the world as it is has not yet become the world as God desires it to be.
And so we live, and work, and pray,
Until justice rolls down like water,
And flows strong and free like a never-failing stream.
For we believe that the living God is just
And that the true and living God loves justice.
Amen.

Finding my y-axis

Yesterday’s cross-country flight allowed me a few hours to reflect on what is (and isn’t) happening within Paradigm, and what I’m doing (or not) as a pastor to contribute to our community’s spiritual formation. Anyone who knows me well readily admits that I’m a perfectionist in several areas, and it leads me to come across as — and sometimes be — critical and insatiable in my standards of success. But when I sit down and write out specific goals, I’m healthily forced to acknowledge that there are plenty of things going very well, even in the midst of plenty of room for improvement.

I know that the old measuring tools for ministry are bankrupt — even corruptive. Attendance in services and small groups, money in the offering plate, number of people who said the “sinner’s prayer” — these were the measurements of “success” that dominated the church landscape over the past generation. But as ministries new and old are beginning to [re-]identify themselves in the grassroots, less-institutional character of the Kingdom, new measurements for success need to emerge. They need to be contextualized for specific ministries, but generally rooted in story, shared journey, relationships, and discipleship — a paradigm for ministry success reflective of a grassroots Kingdom.

So yesterday on my flight I started jotting down my notions of ministry success — areas that, while sometimes being difficult to translate into raw data, are measurable to the extent that they help me to assess the health of our ministry. Because measuring and assessing are not in and of themselves an evil; there’s wisdom and accountability that comes from looking in the mirror from time to time. If I had to make a graph of my ministry’s success, what would the graph look like? Assuming time (months or years) is my x-axis, what measurables would my y-axis consist of? 

Here’s what I jotted down (in no particular order):

*big-picture, long-term enjoyment of shared journey (applies to leadership and entire community)

*increased, applied understanding of what makes the gospel hopeful, good news (maybe we could call this one the conversion of “Christians” to Christ-followers)

*(similarly) people who didn’t realize God was good or loving encountering an experience/community/message that transforms their perspective

*neighbors (local and global) served

*manifestations of God’s Spirit at work (both the gifts and the fruit of the Spirit in the life and worship of the community)

*biblical literacy developed among community members at all stages of journey

*continuous development of devoted, liberated worship that overcomes both spiritual strongholds and cultural barriers (exploring creative left- and right-brained ways of worshiping that feel free to move beyond the commercialized status quo of churchiness)

*people who thought they would never “fit” in a faith community finding a home and sense of genuine place (finding an option beyond church-as-usual and no community whatsoever)

*people who never imagined they would be interested in the Way of Jesus encountering a message that is so hope-filled that they begin to journey with our community

So that’s me, but what about you? What would you consider the y-axis used to graph your ministry’s success? 

Painting pictures of God’s Kingdom

This morning I took part in the monthly meet-up of Northwest Hothouse. Hothouse is a group of pastors, para-church ministry leaders, and community organizers who come together to explore what it means to live and lead missionally in our particular contexts. A lot of inspiring ideas and experiences are shared in these meetings. Dynamics like that of Hothouse — intelligent, imaginative collaboration — get me all the more excited about life in ministry.

 

One of the big questions — it was more of a dilemma, really — that arose this morning was this: What does it mean to appreciate missionality that is “slow steeping” and relational (not an imperialistic take-over), while recognizing that people have urgent, immediate needs to experience communion with Christ?

 

This is my attempt to answer that question.

 

First, I think it is important to give Jesus the respect of focusing our attention where he asked us to place it — on the Kingdom of God. It is the Kingdom, not a cosmic transaction, that is at the heart of the Christian story. The latter relates to the former as a means to an end. To say it differently, any truthful soteriology is entirely grounded in truthful eschatology. To say it differently still, the big picture is about the resurrection and reconciliation of creation, not “soul-winning” and an escapist afterlife.

 

We live in a Kingdom of God story. The Kingdom has come, and the Kingdom is coming. In New Testament studies this is referred to as “the already-but-not-yet.” To reverse the order, what we see around us is not as good as it gets, but it is the current creation which God has covenanted to resurrect. Creation matters because it’s creation that has been, is, and will be the project of God.

 

Like I said, it’s a Kingdom of God story we are part of. And the future of this story requires both announcement and fulfillment — pictures painted and promises kept. There is rootedness to this idea. We see the interplay of announcement and fulfillment in the words of the prophets and the teachings of Jesus — an urgent announcement to transform our ways immediately so that we can join in the gradual, progressive entrance of God’s Kingdom. Whether along the rivers of Babylon or during the Sermon on the Mount, new pictures of the Kingdom have been painted, and those pictures have inspired, befuddled, and expanded imagination. Picture are painted (immediate action) about a new reality that is being created (gradual, sequential movement). But we would be off the mark to divorce the picture-painting act from the larger sequential movement.

 

When we paint pictures, we are doing more than more than simply describing something that will someday be. Our descriptions are entities in their own right. Pictures are real. We can hold them on various levels. Pictures have thingness, yes?

 

Because they have thingness, they also have an irrevocability to them. When we see important images, they stick with us. They delight us. They haunt us. They inspire us. They speak of new realities while being themselves a new realities created. When the pictures we paint are real and true, the audiences to our picture-painting cannot help but own them in an irrevocable way. Even if we paint an image of the future, that future has just happened in that it is now been seen or heard. That is the in-breaking of the future into the present. The future exists in that its picture has been called into existence.

 

Some of the most powerful moments within our Kingdom of God story have come about when the future is called into the present through picture-painting. Again, I think of the prophets of an exilic Israel sitting along the rivers of Babylon and being filled with the dream of universal exile — a sensus plenior exile. I think also of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. Did the future of which King dreamed exist at the time of that speech? We might be inclined to say that it hadn’t or even still hasn’t. There were countless race riots yet to come after that speech, and some racial tension remains today. But I imagine that if we asked those who were there in person to hear King’s dream, they would tell us that something that hadn’t existed prior to that speech suddenly did as King spoke. A new reality came into existence. And many events that have helped to fulfill that dream since the day of the speech happened only because the dream was announced.

 

Pictures create futures.

 

An unimagined, unannounced Kingdom never comes. 

 

We live in a culture that believes talk is cheap. We form a dichotomy between words and actions. Falling to the temptations of our distrust toward the spoken word, we leave little room for speech-acts — for words that not only describe future realities, but also are, in and of themselves, immediate realities. We need to reclaim the speech-act as an essential, prophetic component to our Kingdom of God story.

 

Sometimes picture-painting happens in front of a large crowd (like King’s dream), but more often it happens in family rooms, coffeehouses, and bars, with a handful of people or just one person at a time. When the picture is beautiful and real and true, there is nothing those small audiences can do but grapple with the picture’s irrevocability and possibly begin to draw that picture, or a continuation of it, themselves. 

 

As Kingdom of God pictures are painted, we experience an in-breaking of tikkun olam in two ways: our description of where the story is heading is itself an invitation to join the story, and new reality is created because we have chosen to paint.

 

It is amazing how many people — whether self-proclaimed Christians or people who are unfamiliar with God’s story — well up with hope when they hear the good news about God’s commitment to, and intentions for, creation. While it is possible to dream aloud this good news and still be met with hostility or rejection, I believe that real good news is generally better received than the incomplete good news, the news that explains a cosmic transaction but does not explain where the story is heading. As I said earlier, all truthful soteriology is grounded in truthful eschatology. 

 

When the story as a whole is told, most neighbors who disagree with us are still generally glad to be our neighbors. We can be very “Abrahamically effective” like that, when we tell the whole story, the real good news.

 

So how do we face the balance of being an incarnational presence for the long-haul in our ministry context while acting on our concern for so many who have not received what God has for them? We dream out loud. We paint pictures about God’s covenant faithfulness to creation, the Kingdom that is growing, and God’s continuous tikkun olam mission. We demonstratively look forward to a bright future, and in so doing create new present realities that cause people to hope in a way they’ve never hoped before. 

 

What happens in a Paradigm gathering?

In case you were wondering what a Sunday night with Paradigm is like, I’m previewing our liturgy map for this Sunday’s gathering. If you’re in Seattle on Sunday night, we would love for you to come and join us in the pursuit of God.

Sunday nights, 7 p.m., the gym of First Free Methodist Church (3200 3rd Ave W, across the street from Seattle Pacific University)

 

What the “IKEA effect” says about ministry

(photo taken from the99percent.com)

 

I read a piece on The 99 Percent by Scott Belsky, focused on something dubbed the “IKEA effect” — the connection between participatory investment and satisfaction.

 

 

“I was in a board meeting the other day for a non-profit organization struggling to engage its constituents. Along with the staff, we were trying to find ways to keep people involved and motivated over time. So much work goes into programs and communications – but sometimes people still fail to listen and engage.

 

 

“Rather than focus on the reasons for the struggle, we decided to discuss the examples of success. Why were some programs especially successful?

 

 

“One early discovery was that the programs organically conceived by participants, rather than staff, seemed to have a higher success rate. In addition, the programs with especially large programming committees (i.e. number of people leading the event) were also quite successful.

 

 

“It was at this point that a fellow board member chimed in with the concept of the ‘IKEA effect.’ When people buy furniture at IKEA, they are forced to assemble it themselves. As a result, people report a high degree of satisfaction with their IKEA furniture – largely because of the greater sense of ownership from the labor required to assemble the furniture.”

 

 

This might very well be the greatest challenge standing in front of me in terms of ministry leadership — involving people beyond keeping them informed. As Belsky writes, just as programs aren’t always the answer, communication is not always the X-factor its often made out to be. Keeping people informed is wildly different than keeping them involved and thus invested.

 

 

Here’s where the intricacy comes in. We want people to have investment — to be the builders of the proverbial Swedish sofa — without doing so by creating bureaucratic watchdog positions. It’s easy to get people involved by giving them a voice on such and such a committee, but then, before you know it, organizational decisions that should have been simple are suffocated because they need layer upon layer of approval. There’s a difference between the “IKEA effect” and having a bunch of chefs in the kitchen.

 

 

Decision-making is a legitimate form of participation only when it goes hand-in-hand with the carrying out of said decisions. To use a ministry example, we can listen to someone’s armchair quarterback opinions about the role of music within a liturgy or the direction our teaching time should take, but the “IKEA effect” comes into play when that person picks up an instrument, runs a soundboard, or gives a sermon. 

 

 

In other words, it’s easy to create positions of oversight, but creating positions of ground-level involvement is far more risky-yet-potentially-rewarding. The “IKEA effect” comes into play when people make the bed and sleep in it, too (metaphorically as well as quite-literally in the case of the Swedish furniture company).

 

 

When I think about how this connects to Paradigm and our calling in Seattle, the one word that comes to my mind is “liturgy.” Literally “the work of the people,” a great liturgy minimizes a hierarchal transfer of information in favor of something more communal and lateral. That’s not to suggest that a good liturgy is somehow leaderless; good leaders will find ways to direct while allowing others to build the proverbial Swedish sofa.

 

 

For this reason I draw a line between emphasizing learning and exalting the typical sermon form. I think people learn best when they take ownership of the “material.” In some ministries this comes into play through a dialogical sermon form. At Paradigm this means leaving plenty of room for people to engage God’s Spirit creatively in both the unison and free space components of our liturgy. The challenge for furthering the “IKEA effect” in our gatherings is to find ways that the reflections people generate during our worship can find back into the progress of the gathering.

When mystery and revealed truth are held in tension

Bob’s recent post on the level-headed nuance of a faith that admits to having both questions and answers still has me clapping my hands a few days later.

I so strongly want to echo his sentiment here in Seattle, where in the last year I’ve realized the spiritual landscape is dominated by people who “know” that Jonathan Edwards’ wrath-god gives us cancer and predestines those He hates for hell, and some folks who read about five pages of Derrida, wet themselves, and are now convinced that we can’t accept any of Jesus’ claims and expectations as normative.

The only difference between these groups, I suppose, is that the latter group will at least admit that they are only loosely affiliated with Christ and his Way.

Is it really a mystery why so few people in Seattle follow Christ when those who claim to be Christians spout such sub-Christian views on life and faith? Is there any room for nuance between extremes in a city that is said to be well educated and literate?

Without sounding like too much of a martryr, I should note that there are others (like these friends) who are trying to make Christ’s Way known in this city — not settling for wrath-god or feeble wallowing in uncertainty — but too often it feels like it’s the sub-gospels that dictate the spiritual climate in this city, and the rest of us are left to play by crooked rules.

All that to say I’m thankful and refreshed by Bob’s words, and hope that the dynamic that exists within Evergreen in Portland would find deep roots in several faith communities here in Seattle.

What’s a sustainable faith project, anyway?

From the Paradigm site:

What does it mean when we say that Paradigm is a “sustainable faith project”?

 

In order to understand what Paradigm is all about, we need to know a few things about systems and connectedness.

 

A lot of things in this world operate as systems — they’re systemic in nature. Economics. Environmental degradation. Disease. The impact that broken families have on multiple generations. Physical abusiveness. Marital infidelity and sexual corruption. Substance abuse. The list goes on.

 

To focus on one as an example, think of economics. Individuals are free to make their own financial choices with their money. And we’d agree that an individual’s own decisions have a tremendous impact on his or her financial well-being. We’d also agree, however, that, regardless of how much or how little we have in our piggy banks, we’re affected by wide-scale peaks and recessions. And peaks and recessions don’t happen out of nowhere — they’re the result of a series of individual decisions.

 

Individuals create systems, and systems impact individuals. Just ask the children of abusive parents or divorcees. Or the family of a pornography-addict or drug user. Or a kid who’s growing up in the midst of AIDS and genocide. They’ll all tell you that individuals contribute to systems, and systems shape individuals.

 

The great myth within humanity is that any of us are ever alone, that we can do whatever we want because “It’s not going to hurt anyone else.” It is the central deception of sin, isolation. But the truth is that we cannot get away with doing, thinking, or saying a single thing that isn’t going to impact someone, somewhere down the road.

 

We are connected.

 

It’s clear in the stories of Scripture: sinfulness led to deadliness, which brought about more sinfulness yet. The cycle continued — a momentum of corruption and decay. But as people who believe in Jesus as Messiah for the world, we believe that his death and resurrection inaugurated a new Way. The Apostle Paul candidly writes about this in the fifth and sixth chapters of his letter to the Romans: the cycle of sin and death have been replaced with a cycle of faithfulness and life, and Christ’s followers are to further the new cycle of living. 

 

When asked by a student if Christ-followers are at liberty to contribute to the old cycle (beginning of Romans 6), Paul goes on a tangent that can pretty much be summed up as, “Absolutely not! If they do, there was no point in anything Jesus did.”

 

We know all about how cycles of sin corrupt friendships, families, cities, and people over generations. But what does it look like when the cycle that Christ began is continued today? What does it look like for people to care for the environment in a way that makes their neighbors do the same? Or for a man to respect and empower women in a way that causes his sons to do an even better job of it than he does? What if a group of people stepped back from materialism and pooled their finances to create an orphanage in an area of need, and that orphanage went on to care for generations and generations of children who need love and care? And what if children who were seemingly destined to be aborted were instead allowed to live through adoption, and became the very leaders of this movement?

 

And what if the people who were engaged in such a movement weren’t acting out of empty human-centrism or political agenda, but were letting it be known that the gospel of Jesus is the driving force behind the change? What if it was announced that this movement was about God’s plan coming about on Earth as it does in heaven? What if the participants of this new life were constantly being nourished by the words of Scripture, dwelling in prayer, and taking part in life-giving spiritual practices? What if these people had the opportunity to be discipled by spiritual directors whose interest was for them to fully realize their identity as Christ-followers, and all of the acceptance and forgiveness that comes with that?

 

What if all of that came to be?

 

Well, we might call that a sustainable movement. We would recognize that what we were seeing was the sort of faithfulness that spreads life and hope in the lives of friends and neighbors and families. Remember how systems work, how individual lives are always influenced by systems around them? This cycle of faithfulness and life would inevitably improve the world of these friends, neighbors, and families. Those people, in turn, would have the chance to join God’s people, take up Jesus’ Way, and join the mission. (Maybe if people saw how beautiful Jesus’ Way can be — what a difference it can make in the world — more of them would take seriously who Jesus claimed to be and the movement he claimed to start, don’t you think?)

 

In the end, what we’d have is this: Christ’s faithfulness creating an invitation to his Way for each of us; our faithfulness modeling that new life in Christ’s Way and tangibly spreading the invitation as we better the lives of those around us; and others accepting that invitation to the Way, faithfully participating in it, and bringing about yet another stage in this ever-growing movement. And so on and so forth.

 

It’s a sustainable faith project.

 

It’s ridiculously simple, yet it’s radical and difficult in that it calls people to actually obey the instructions of Christ. It takes leaving a life of selfishness. It requires shaking off the myth that we’re a bunch of little automatons whose actions don’t contribute to one of two systems — the cycle of sin and death, and that of faithfulness and life.

 

That’s the Paradigm vision: to faithfully live out true life in the Way of Jesus, inviting those we impact to freely choose to acknowledge Jesus as Messiah and join the mission. It’s a gift that keeps on giving, this sustainable faith project of ours.

 

The plan for bringing this about in our area of North Seattle is to tell and learn the message of Scripture in our gatherings, deepen our understanding of God and our relationships with others in communities, and to act out the redemptive message of Christ through local involvement. 

 

Is Paradigm a “church”? Yes and no, depending on what you associate with that word. If someone is looking to be part of a church, Paradigm could be a viable conclusion. But a person who is already involved in a church is welcome to take part in any or all of the three things we do (gatherings, communities, and local involvement). And a person who dislikes church might enjoy Paradigm (though we acknowledge that some people dislike pretty much everything, and it’s only a matter of time before they dislike us too). 

 

We are asking people who join Paradigm’s core team to make Paradigm their primary spiritual community and to participate in each of the three events involved in our mission, but we have no form of “membership” beyond that. We accept donations in our gatherings and through mail, and people who tithe are welcome to direct that giving toward our mission.

 

In all, we hope the project is a success, that faithfulness leads to life, and life to faithfulness.

Julie highlights the elements of Paradigm

Earlier today I wrote about how we approach truth-seeking at Paradigm. Julie joined in the Paradigm focus and highlighted the “elements” (shared values and commitments) of Paradigm.

Check out what she has to say and please do consider if and how you would be interested in contributing to what we’re up to in Rain City.

Learning at Paradigm

The text below is taken from Paradigm’s website. Paradigm — in case you didn’t know — is a ministry that Julie and I are involved with in Seattle. Our vision: to create sustainable faith in Seattle. We’re inviting people to hear God’s story through interactive liturgy (Sunday night gatherings), deepen their understanding of the story (Paradigm communities during the week) and bring a bit of heaven to earth for our local and global neighbors (missional involvement opportunities).

We started a few months ago, and we’re very much still in the process of putting together a core team to serve as the nucleus for the ministry. Even during the process of inviting people to the team, we are gathering on Sunday nights to pursue God through a lot of worship forms and spiritual practices that we see becoming part of Paradigm’s long-term identity.

If you’re in Seattle and want to come by, we meet at 1059 NE 96th St in Seattle (fairly equidistant to Northgate Mall and Green Lake), in a building we share with Maple Leaf Church, at 6:00PM Sundays. (I feel like there should some sort of pithy gimmick here — “Mention that you heard about us through this blog and you’ll receive a free [something].”)

Or maybe you’re reading this and you’re not in Seattle, but you suddenly realize one of two things: 1) your newfound calling to pack up your things and move to Seattle to join us in our endeavor, or 2) the inclination to gently nudge your Seattle-area friends to check out Paradigm (maybe try something really subtle — “Paradigm is the greatest thing ever and the future of the universe depends on whether you go and take part in what they’re doing”). 

Um, yeah, we’re going to want you to act on either/both of those impulses.

In all seriousness though, we have been, are, and will be ridiculously grateful for anyone who wants to take a risk and give some time to a ministry that has the potential to make a significant impact in Seattle. Let me know if that’s you.

————-

(From the Paradigm site)

We want to relentlessly pursue truth. It’s our belief that God is pleased when people are willing to dig deeper than status quo assumptions, ask big questions, and engage the mystery and grandeur of God and His story.

We’ve made a few central commitments in how we seek truth at Paradigm. First, we want to embrace both left- and right-brain thought processes as we study, reflecting on God’s story in both creative and linear ways.

Seeking truth is no solo job. We pursue truth in the context of community, where we can not only learn from one another, but also apply truth in and through the community (because truth is lived and not merely thought).

Learning at Paradigm is holistic and relational. Sometimes it is also difficult and limited. Paradigm is a community where people are free to engage mystery, raise questions, and run their fingers along the wounds in Jesus’ hands. And sometimes we raise questions to which our only honest answer is, “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know” can be a great theological claim.

We’re not pursuing truth for the sake of self-assurance, textbook answers, and power games. We aren’t creating circular smokescreen doctrines. We’re engaging a complex world with a powerful, mysterious Gospel. We have found life-changing hope in God’s Story and life in the Way of Jesus, and we want that truth to be lived, told, explored, and known.

There are four main resources we use to seek and verify truth: Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience. The technical term for these four “truth-decectors” is the Wesleyan Quadrilateral.

In Scripture we have the most tangible, uniquely authoritative expression of God’s revelation. For this reason, Scripture is the starting point of our Quad. Scripture provides us with the narrative of Israel and some of the earliest communities that followed Jesus and built his Kingdom. The Bible explains to us God’s character and articulates what it looks like to become part of the people of God. As God’s Spirit illumines it, we’re able to use Scripture wisely in our context today.

God gives us intelligence and welcomes us to use it. We naturally bring our cognitive ability and framework (our reason) into our handling and application of Scripture, understanding of God, and observation of ourselves and our world. We want to worship God with our thoughtfulness, as we love Him enough to observe His work in this world.

God’s Holy Spirit is available to Christ-followers as a Helper — consulting, convicting, encouraging, ministering, and illumining truth through all different kinds of mediums and situations. As individuals and as a community, we are called to remain sensitive to the Spirit’s personal and particular guidance. Through a deep experience of God’s Spirit we gain the wisdom and discernment needed to serve God in our culture and context today.

We’re connected to the tradition of God’s people throughout the centuries and around the globe. As we pursue truth, it’s important that we look beyond our own context and learn from the wisdom of other faithful believers. By seeing how other Christians have understood truth, we’re able to affirm and adopt many of their conclusions. We’re also free to recognize and correct misguiding thoughts of past Christians — moving forward into a healthier understanding of, and relationship with, our God.

By holding the four components of the Quad together in dynamic community, we continuously learn and grow in our understanding of who we are, who God is, and what is going on in the world.