Charlie Wear’s Notes

Scott Bane and I are talking about what it means to be a disciple and the art of disciple-making. Our conversation springs from our dissatisfaction with the general state of discipleship in our own lives and in what we can see in the Christian sub-culture.

So, we have started by beginning to list the traits of a disciple. We’ve got two so far and here they are:
A Disciple of Jesus:
1. Abandons all other pursuits to follow Jesus.
2. Listens to the Holy Spirit and obeys.

This is just our beginning, but I would be happy to hear what you think…

I was in my 20s when I first prayed the sinner’s prayer. It was a fluke really. Raised in a denomination that was more about believing in doctrines and refraining from sinful practices, I had been baptized at the age of 13. I certainly believed that I was a member in good standing of my denomination. I was active serving in my church. Our church was big on performance and not so big on assurance of salvation.

So when I found myself on an airplane flight to Washington, DC, I was honestly unable to answer the pointed questions of my seatmate about my eternal destiny. Now, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think I needed to be "born again." But the persistence of my neighbor, and honestly, the desire for some peace and quiet on the rest of the trip, caused me to go along with him and pray the "sinner’s prayer." "Good," I though, "I got that out of the way."

The "decision" I made on that plane flight wasn’t really that deep or that committed. With no follow-up care my discipleship quotient didn’t go up very much. I have had many more decision points to bring me to my current place on my "journey." But I still remember that first "sinner’s prayer."

Years later I was discipled by John Wimber. Now, this discipling was not the one on one or small group kind of mentoring that people need. I had become interested in church growth and was visiting the Vineyard in Anaheim regularly on Sunday nights. The bookstore had lots of recordings of conferences and teaches by Wimber and piece by piece I bought the entire inventory and listened to hours of John Wimber’s teaching. One of his sayings that came through from time to time was, "I want to grow up before I grow old." Another was, "Sometimes you need to be born again, again."

These days the sinner’s prayer has fallen out of favor with some folks I know in the emerging church. They have rightly criticized the reduction of the gospel to praying a prayer to insure heavenly reward without making the commitment to discipleship and obedience that is so clearly taught in the Bible. They talk about spiritual disciplines and transformation. I don’t know what they would say to a crowd gathered in a stadium if asked to preach the gospel, but I am pretty sure they wouldn’t think it was a good idea to have an altar call.

Really, the first altar call was on the day of Pentecost when Peter told the gathered crowd, "Repent." A large group of people decided to accept and follow Jesus that day and they were immediately (if you can read between the words) assimilated into a newly formed body of believers, fellowshiping, praying and learning to follow Jesus.

As I watched Greg Laurie closing the memorial service for his son Christopher, I was strangely moved by his altar call. And once again I prayed that sinner’s prayer along with Greg. You see, even for an old man, from time to time I need to be born again, again.

I spent last evening getting to know Greg Laurie better by reading his autobiography, Lost Boy. For those not acquainted with Greg, he is pastor of one of the largest congregations in the United States which is located nearby in Riverside, California. I found out from one of his publishers last week that his son, Christopher, had died in an auto accident on the freeway in nearby Corona.

I think that one thing that all parents fear is that they will outlive their children. There is no way I can imagine the sorrow that the Laurie family is experiencing. After reading Greg’s story I can’t help but join many who will ask, "Why did this happen?" In the video below you can see Greg’s response in his own words. It is raw, at times, and emotional. Yet strong and courageous.

It must be because I am an old man, but I still believe that it is important for people to make a decision to follow Christ, to pray a prayer and get saved. When I was growing up in the 60s there was an apocalyptic atmosphere, I think because of the war in Viet Nam. Death was on the mind of young people. There was also a great discontent with this world we live in. Heaven, as we understood it, was on our minds.

The Jesus Movement sprang out of that atmosphere. One of the remaining results of that movement is the church that Greg Laurie pastors. The story of its beginnings is amazing. 500 people were in attendance the first week and it grew to thousands in a short period of time, most of them young people in their twenties. No man, in his wisdom, could have caused such a thing to happen.

In that time God raised up young men, like Greg Laurie. People with only a high school education who learned the bible and how to preach the gospel by intense study and observation of their mentor, Chuck Smith. I pray that God will continue to comfort Greg and his family and that their "mourning will be turned into dancing."

I used to say that I learned my philosophy of ministry from "The Gambler." You’ve got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em…etc. This was more about knowing when "God" was in something, and when he is, holding firm. When God isn’t moving, "Get out of Dodge!."

Now I have another metaphor to add. I learned it from the World Poker Tour. It’s this concept: "All-In." I think one of the main components of being a disciple of Jesus is an "All-In" attitude, laying it all on the line for Jesus. This doesn’t mean that we always win, contrary to the "happy-happy, joy-joy" attitude of some ministries. It just means following Jesus and obeying his commands is a big commitment that happens 24-7.

I had a thought this morning as I was awakening. Churches aren’t making "All-In" Christ-followers. All of the systems of most churches aim to make something else entirely. I have more to come on this subject, but I will save it for later.

Wear Sunscreen, the faux commencement speech popularized by Baz Luhrman’s music video, contains some good advice, which, as the speech says, "like youth, is probably wasted on the young." The advice I am focused on today is the sunscreen advice.

The source of most skin cancers, according to my dermatologist, is sun exposure, and most of the negative exposure occurs prior to the age of 18. So parents, add sunscreen to the daily routine for children who will be playing in unprotected sunlight.

Of course, I do use my cellphone near my left ear, so I suppose the skin cancer theoretically could have been caused by cell phone use or by the gamma rays that are generated by vegetarian computer users!

In any case, I am healing well from the procedure that removed my growth last Friday. I have moved into the "Golly, that sure does itch stage." One of the disadvantages of having a skin cancer removed that is near your left ear under local anesthesia is that you get to hear everything that is happening just like you have THX sound or a set of Bose earphones.

The funkiest moment was when they were stretching the skin that would cover the 50-cent piece size wound that was left after the cancer had been cut off. I am not sure that I could ever endure a face lift, but that stretching was the wierdest feeling.

In the aftermath of the procedure I have some numbness in my scalp from nerves being dislocated from the skin they were ennervating. The doctor says that numbness should go away in time. Meanwhile, I have these itchy sensations that tend to be quite annoying.

For those of you interested, here is the Wear Sunscreen video (with Spanish subtitles):

I’ve had an itchy spot on my scalp behind my left ear for some time now. At first I thought it was somehow caused by my glasses rubbing up against my scalp. Every once in a while it would scab over. Didn’t heal. I had my wife, a nurse practitioner,  look at it about a month ago. She said, "That doesn’t look good." She looked again and said, you had better see a dermatologist.

Expecting it to take a month to get in to see the doctor I was surprised that I got in to see him the next day. He said, "That looks like a basal cell carcinoma, but we will take a biopsy to make sure." Carcinoma? Biopsy? For an itchy spot on my scalp? The doctor did the biopsy which took about five minutes and told me to call in Wednesday for the results. While I was waiting for the doctor to return my call on Wednesday a good friend called. It was great to hear from him. I said, "You have just made my day by calling." He said something like, if my call makes your day you must be having a pretty bad day like sitting around waiting to hear bad news from a doctor. I brushed off his off-hand comment, it was a little too close to home.

After we hung up, I called the doctor’s office and found out the news: Basal Cell Carcinoma. "We can do a procedure and remove it, let me have my colleague speak with you to arrange it." The appointment was made for yesterday at 9 a.m. Turns out my spot was actually a pretty big spot. The procedure involved removing the growth, taking a slide of the fringes to make sure all of it was gone, and then closing up. So between the "removal" and the closing up there was about a 30-45 minute wait holding a bandage up to my scalp to provide pressure.

I was in good company in the waiting room with others who had bandages on their noses and ears. Eventually they brought me back in and said there was a small spot remaining but that it would be removed when they pulled together the loose skin to close the wound. About a half an hour later I was on my way home, an ace bandage wrapped around my head like a turban to apply pressure and minimize bleeding. My wife is using the turban effect to hold a bandage in place while I work today (see self-photo, right).

This weekend I am taking it easy, keeping the pain medication flowing. Expectations? Full recovery with about a 4 1/2 inch scar in my scalp.

On Friday, right after I got home my wife took Ben and they went to get my prescription filled and run some errands. As soon as they walked in the door Ben said, "I want to pray for you, daddy." "Dear Jesus, Help my daddy’s head to get healed, Amen."

I liked Tony Snow, and I wasn’t alone. For several years I watched him as he hosted Fox News Sunday. He died too young at the age of 53 from cancer. His fought his disease in a very public way, with optimism and courage. Another young (remember, I think people who are in their 50s are young) journalist dead before his time.

It wasn’t hard to compare the heartfelt tributes to Mr. Snow to those for Tim Russert. Here were two men, on different sides of the political spectrum who managed to make people who disagreed with them to like them personally. Both of them were family men and good fathers. Both of them were caring to those they worked with. Both of them had a strong faith.

I couldn’t help but notice the number of people who praised Snow for his authenticity. In his last short time since leaving his post as White House press secretary he worked hard to raise some money to support his family in the years to come. We can all pray that the grief of his family will be soon forgotten as memories of his grace and humor outshine them.

4th of July is for families. Starting about 35 years ago my father started having a 4th of July party at his home in Southern California. Over the years I have only missed a couple, notably last year when we were in Florida. The highlight of the party is usually the burning up of small amounts of gunpowder (fireworks) in my Dad’s back yard. When the parties started all those years ago there was a small number of attendees and over the years it grew in size, probably 20-30 at its peak.

A couple of years ago, my Dad didn’t make it to his party! This year there were 10 of us. We swam in the pool and then headed home early. Victims of ordinances that call for a $1,000 fine for shooting off fireworks. There is just too much fire danger. It was a great day with the family all around, a family tradition for sure. We came home and around 9 p.m. in the evening a huge fireworks show happened, practically in our backyard. Ben said, "This is the greatest day of my life." (our own attempt at pulling a few poppers left me with a bad attitude and a stung finger.

We don’t have a cake, like my good friends the Banes’, but this annual event is a kind of anchor for the Wear family. I don’t know how many more years the event will continue as the family has scattered to Alaska, Oregon, Maryland, Florida, Tennessee and other American venues. But as long as it does we will enjoy our family time together.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about, among other things, church leadership in large churches. We were talking about the difficulties of keeping the evangelism flame alive in a large church. I said something like, "When Evangelism is your job, you are in trouble."

I think the same could be said about being a preacher, worship leader, or other paid staff member of a large church. So many influences come into play when you get your paycheck as a result of being successful in an endeavor that is primarily an activity of the Holy Spirit or it’s influence in our lives. And, for God’s sake, what do you do when everything you used to do in your "job" stops working?

Of course, there is plenty of information out there on the subject "Why Evangelism Doesn’t Work," and I think it is fair to say that the entire process has become much more difficult, at least in the North American culture I live in. For those of us who are not "professional" evangelists, preachers, etc., let’s pray that the Holy Spirit would breathe new life into the work of those who make their living from these endeavors. Burnout is inevitable, fresh infilling is a necessity.

I’ve been around ministry long enough to be nostalgic for things that happened in the past, have you? One time I was part of a small group that used to feed homeless people on Saturdays in a park. Now, we were the kind of group that believed it is better to seek forgiveness than to get permission, so we were set up on a Saturday afternoon underneath a covered pavilion. We had been doing this for awhile and had developed a reputation for providing some very good food.

This particular weekend was rainy. I know, very unusual for Southern California. As one of the leaders of the group I began to panic when I saw that about 300 people had lined up. We had igloo coolers full of stew and chili and lots of other good stuff, but I was sure there was not enough food. I was in the serving line ladling out some outstanding potato based stew with big chunks of meat. I had been at it for some time.

Here’s the way it worked. The guest would hand me their bowl, I would lift the cover just enough to scoop my ladle into the stew. Out would come the steaming stew. It wasn’t long before I noticed that every time I ladled out a serving there was a large chunk of meat in it. This seemed unusual. I mean, I should have missed once in a while, right?

I opened up the lid and noticed I had used up about 40% of the contents. I stirred the contents and was not able to come up with pounds of meat. Fewer than 40% of our guests had been served, so I had reason for concern, but I commented to one of my fellow servers, "Wow, this is the meatiest stew I have ever served."

The line continued processing. I continued ladling. The meat continued plopping into the bowls. I didn’t lift the lid again until every one had been served. When I did lift it, there was still about 20% of the stew remaining.

Not only did we serve that overflow crowd. We sent the leftovers to a shelter for abused women and 24 more adults had food that Saturday. It wasn’t loaves and fishes, but our entire group was convinced that God had multiplied the food and fed those people that afternoon. As we sat around a restaurant table afterwards sharing our experience, we couldn’t keep from smiling and shaking our heads. The New Testament had come alive in our own lives! Wow…

I was reminded of this story as I read a post on my friend Scott Bane’s site. He is planting a church in northwest Indiana. As I looked at his post I realized that he is living through his "good old days" right now. And then, as I thought about Scott and his family, the Holy Spirit quickened in my heart that he has some more "good old days" for me to live in…Wow!