Brett Tilford

Pure genius.

Postmodernism. I approach this subject with much fear and trembling for two reasons. First, because it is such a broad movement spanning 500+ years and effecting every level of society. Second, because people are all over the map on their opinion of it, with views ranging from “I have no clue what you are talking about” to “postmodernism doesn’t actually exist” to “postmodernism = relativism.” Having said that, I think it’s worth trying to explain and wrestle with because if it is true, I think it has profound implications for the world and our lives. So here goes my feeble attempt.

In the modern era logic, science, and the idea of “pure reason” were in. Philosophers spent most of their time reasoning and deducting. Scientists were objectively experimenting. Newton was forming his solid and unchanging “laws” of the universe and the gospel was boiled down into “four spiritual laws” as well. Religion was on trial for claiming “super” natural phenomena. Theologians were systematizing their theology. The arts were struggling to be taken seriously. People like Spoch were highly respected: rational and unemotional. “Don’t give me any experiential mumbo jumbo” was a phrase you might hear some wise person utter. We loved shows like Dragnet, with agent Joe Friday saying “just the fact’s ma’m, just the facts.” The great thinkers and writers of the day were confident that we were creating a better world. At the turn of the 20th century a popular saying was “every day, in every way we are getting better and better.” Science, technology, and reason would lead us there.

However, two world wars and a great depression were enough to begin the eroding of peoples faith in the modern experiment. Was the world really getting better and better? Was there even such a thing as “pure reason” or being truly “objective”: the way the scientist claimed to approach his experiment or the philosopher claimed to arrive at his deductions. Some people began to think these premises might be questionable, and it followed that the idea of something “after” or “post” modern was birthed. These were people who lived through the modern era, and experienced it so deeply that they were changed by it, and became something else entirely: postmodern. On this basis postmodernity isn’t necessarily “antimodern” or “better than modern” just “emerging from modern.”

In a postmodern world it’s not that logic and reason are out, but are rather taken off their pedestal, and placed alongside story, imagination, and experience in the search for truth. It’s not that science is out, but instead is humbly placed in the context of a very mysterious universe with a very “other” God that we have trouble wrapping our tiny brains around.

The implications for this new way of thinking are far reaching. The arts are being revitalized as a legitimate voice in the search for truth. Mystery is not sneered at, but celebrated. The arrogant humanism and individualism (think of our hero’s spock or the lone ranger) that modernity birthed are being replaced by a profound sense of “we” and a desire for relationship and community. Science is one of the voices, as opposed to the only voice. Supernatural things aren’t disregarded on the spot. The bible isn’t approached the way a skeptical detective approaches a crime scene, but is instead approached in a more relational and humble manner.

In many ways the Wizard of Oz serves as an appropriate metaphor for the rise of the postmodern world. In the story our friend Dorothy becomes the unlikely hero, journeying through an unknown world with imperfect friends. While the almighty Oz (confident, know it all, and loud) is revealed as a fraud. He is, and has been all along, only a humble seeker like them.

I hope this at least gives you a taste of what postmodernism may be. Hopefully it launches you into your own study of where our world has been and where it may be headed.

This is a rather lengthy quote taken from C.S. Lewis’ book The Last Battle, part of the wildly popular children’s series, The Chronicles of Narnia. The first time I read it as an adult it brought a tear to my eye, and profoundly challenged some of my dearly held theology.

“So I went over much grass and many flowers and among all kinds of wholesome and delectable trees till lo! in a narrow place between two rocks there came to meet me a great Lion. The speed of him was like the ostrich, and his size as an elephant’s; his hair was like pure gold and the brightness of his eyes like gold that is liquid in the furnace. He was more terrible than the Flaming Mountain of Lagour, and in beauty he surpassed all that is in the world even as the rose in bloom surpasses the dust of the desert.Then I fell at his feet and thought, Surely this is the hour of death, for the Lion (who is worthy of all honour) will know that I have served Tash all my days and not him. Nevertheless, it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him. But the Glorious One bent down his golden head and touched my forehead with his tongue and said, Son, thou art welcome. But I said, Alas Lord, I am no son of thine but the servant of Tash. He answered, Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done to me. Then by reasons of my great desire for wisdom and understanding, I overcame my fear and questioned the Glorious One and said, Lord, is it then true, as the Ape said, that thou and Tash are one? The Lion growled so that the earth shook (but his wrath was not against me) and said, It is false. Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites, I take to me the services which thou hast done to him. For I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath’s sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then, though he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted. Dost thou understand, Child? I said, Lord, though knowest how much I understand. But I said also (for the truth constrained me), Yet I have been seeking Tash all my days. Beloved, said the Glorious One, unless they desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek.”

The “gospel” of Jesus. What is it?

Most of the time when we think of the gospel we think of something to this effect: Jesus died on the cross for your sins so that you can go to heaven after you die. This is pretty standard fare. Of course their are variations that include statements about the resurrection, the bridge to God, etc. But they all basically come down to “Jesus died so that you can live in heaven.”

I think that’s a pretty lame gospel.

There are a few reasons I feel this way. First, it’s selfish. It becomes this weird appeal of “Hey, so do you want to go to heaven? Great, I thought so. All you have to do is believe in Jesus!” What? Since when did this become the gospel? Second, Jesus didn’t seem to preach it. You just don’t see him going around to people saying, “Hey everyone, hope on the J train! We’re heaven bound!” Third, it doesn’t have much to do with the here and now. In fact it tends to lend itself to a sort escapism, where the thinking goes something like this. Well the world is headed to Hell in a handbasket, there’s really not much we can do except spread the word that Jesus is the way out.

As I read the gospels I just don’t see this being the good news Jesus preached.

Instead I see him talking about this mysterious thing that he called “the gospel of the Kingdom of God.” This kingdom was like the reality of God coming down and touching earth. He said this kingdom isn’t “of this world”, meaning it doesn’t come from the systems and ways of men (which tend to get twisted and evil) but instead comes from God. Maybe like the dream of God for this world: what he meant this world to be, full of love. So Jesus heals sick people, opens blind eyes, fills the hungry, and respects women.   He tells us to love God, love each other, and even love our enemies. He says that we should pray to God and give to the poor. And all the while he is telling stories and dropping hints that he is modeling the kingdom of God for us. Then one day he prays the most beautiful prayer, and this is one of the things he says, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

I believe that is the gospel. Heaven is coming to earth.

Now that is freakin good news.

If you want more info on the kingdom of God check out this video.

So today I’m in the mood to tackle some theology. Let’s jump in.

Orthodoxy is generally defined as “right belief.” So, for example you may hear someone say, “Yeah, I’m an orthodox Christian.” Which means they consider themselves to be a “normal” Christian: whatever that means exactly. I have struggled with the term “orthodox” when it’s aligned with Christianity, because it always begs the question… orthodox according to who: the Roman Catholics, Charismatics, Southern Baptists, Episcopalians, the Mormons? Orthodoxy as right belief seems to have fractured the church. Everyone keeps disagreeing, calling each other heretics, and then splitting off as the “true” church, only to have the process repeated on them some years later.

One of the truly traumatic aspects of attending Bible College, as I did, is that you realize there are an awful lot of gray areas out there, places where answers don’t come easily. You find that the clarity of Sunday School is quickly replaced by the uncertainty of a very big God, in a very big world, where very smart and sincere people really disagree with each other over some rather important things.

The more I looked around the more clearly I knew, this isn’t working. Yet, the thought nagged me. If right belief isn’t the thing to identify Christians… what is. I mean if you start throwing right belief out the window aren’t you sort of left with a mess. What else could there be other than wrong belief. I could already hear the apostle Paul scolding me for not holding onto the “true faith.”

I was left hanging.

A few months ago I came across the book “How Not To Speak of God” by Peter Rollins. In it he voices a similar dilemma and then offers a possible solution.

“Instead of following the Greek-influenced idea of orthodoxy as right belief, these chapters show that the emerging community is helping us to rediscover the more Hebraic and mystical notion of the Orthodox Christian as one who believes in the right way- that is, believing in a loving, sacrificial, and Christlike manner. The reversal from ‘right belief’ to ‘believing in the right way’ is in no way a move to some binary opposite of the first(for the opposite of right belief is simply wrong belief); rather, it is a way of transcending the binary altogether. Thus orthodoxy is no longer (mis)understood as the opposite of heresy but rather is understood as a term that signals a way of being in the world rather than a means of believing things about the world…

Orthodoxy as right belief will cost us little; indeed, it will allow us to sit back with our Pharisaic doctrines guarding the ‘truth’ with the purity of our interpretations. But orthodoxy as believing in the right way, as bringing love to the world around us and within us… that will cost us everything. For to live by that sword, as we all know, is to die by it.”

Wow.  Obviously some huge implications.  I think it’s worth wrestling with.

Take a few minutes to read the speech that shook a nation: I have a dream…

I was schooled in the art of leadership that said “vision” is a leaders most potent weapon. A vision brings clarity to your organization. It says, “this is who we are and this is where we’re going.” At the same time it informs your people who you aren’t, and what you will not be doing. Vision is what infuses life and passion into your organization. If your organization were a rocket, vision would be the fuel. As Bill Hybels, Senior Pastor of Willow Creek Church, so eloquently writes, “vision is painting a preferred picture of the future that inspires passion.”

For a long time I was a vision maniac. I wanted to know my vision and I wanted to know your vision. It was normal for me to ask human beings, “so, what’s your vision?”

However, over the years my faith in the power of a vision has faded.

I think this has been for a number of reasons. First, there were times when I would actually put my vision down on paper, only to reread it months later to find that I had lied. Some of the vision we had pursued, other parts had faded for one reason or another: wrong timing, failure to get buy in, but probably the most popular reason was that a huge portion of it simply wouldn’t work. This sounds like a complete disaster, but to my knowledge it really wasn’t. In fact I never had a team member come up to me and say, “Hey, remember that vision talk you gave a few months ago? Do you recognize that the thing we are doing now is different in significant ways?” It was almost as though, despite what every book on leadership taught, we were guided by something other than what was written down as our “organizational vision.”

So where exactly does this leave us as people and organizations? If a rousing vision isn’t the fuel for our rocket, what is?

Honestly, I don’t have a good term yet, but I’m thinking of “it.” “It” is that thing that just oozes out of a leader and his/her organization. They don’t have to talk about it or write it down. It’s simply who they are, and who their organization becomes.

For my youth ministry “it” was these things: organic and relational. Whatever we did had to flow from those things. It didn’t matter what was written down on as our vision. If it didn’t line up with those things… somehow we knew, “this just isn’t us.”

Another example of this inner guidance is my current company Fuor. We don’t actually have a vision. In the early days I kept asking “what is our vision, what is our vision, what the heck is our vision?” All the guys would just kind of look at me, hang their heads, and keep silent. I wanted clarity, by golly! I wanted to know all the details of what we are going to be about. But, you know what I’ve realized? We don’t know those things and that’s okay. However, mysterious as it may sound, when I start thinking about Fuor these ideas and concepts just come to my mind. We are all about quality and creativity. Whatever we do is going to be the best. Nothing second rate. Also, we can’t stand boredom, so it has to be creative and interesting. Right now “it” is primarily channeled into designing and developing websites. But, you know what? That may change. Building websites doesn’t best describe Fuor. Creativity and Quality does.

So what about your organization? Don’t tell me your elaborate plans for the future. Don’t try and pump me up with your word pictures.

Just describe to me your “it” and that should do the trick.

I have a hunch that “it” goes by another name called “core vales.” But that revelation has only now come to me as I write this post, so I’ll have to think it through.

More on this topic to come. I think we are on to something here.

I’ve had this feeling for awhile that Starbucks is losing their mojo. So imagine my surprise when I came across this post by business guru Tom Peters, voicing similar concerns. Apparently, Starbucks stock has been tanking and founder Howard Schultz has fired CEO Jim Donald and re-taken control of the floundering giant.

Peter’s writes, “Simple, as I see it. There is an Enemy of inestimable power—moreover, power growing by the day. Incidentally, the same Remorseless Enemy that brought McDonald’s to the brink a decade ago. Namely, itself-themselves. I “like,” in a fashion, “the Starbucks case.” The company does not have an external enemy worth talking about, or to blame the decline on. And its stock is surging South. Ergo, its enemy must, necessarily, be Starbucks. And if a company that is unchallenged in conventional terms is in a pickle, that bodes poorly for all of us. In fact, it’s downright scary.”

This has gotten me to thinking about organizations and those people at the top responsible for it all: leaders. What can we do in the face of such horror? The whole “being our own worst enemy” is a bit cliche.  Yet so stunningly true that we can’t ignore it.

Which is why I believe that a leader’s title should be “chief destroyer.”

Every day in our organization people are making decisions. This isn’t wrong. In fact, all of them make sense at the time and seem innocent enough.

However, over time, almost imperceptibly, all those decisions start adding up and things start getting weird and bogged down. The “vibe” at the office just isn’t the same. New ideas start getting shot down. Things start taking longer. People who fall in line are rewarded, while those who stir things up, are canned. Security is in, and risk taking is out.

The organization is no longer this entrepreneurial, lean, quick striking, gorilla warfare type unit… it’s more like Jabba the Hutt.

This is when the leader must get his/her “destroy” on: chopping and hacking left and right, asking the hard questions and then taking alarming risks.

Granted, some may say “This all seems a bit over the top.”

However, I would argue that in this crazy/hyper paced world, where you can be “in” one second and “out” the next, it may actually be the most “sane” thing you can do.

Also, if your organization is going to die, why not go out in a blaze of controversy and courage.  As opposed to a 5 year slow, painful, wheezing death by mediocrity and the status quo.

So today is the official launch of my blog. Much thanks goes to Caleb, Josiah, and Charles for helping/pushing me to become more web savvy. Honestly, a few months ago I was probably the last person in the world you would have thought would have a personal blog. However, a few months can change a person, and I am a changed man. I feel that to be a good citizen of this new world, a basic understanding of all things web (html, css, wordpress, etc.) are a must. So this is my attempt to embrace the new world.

I will be updating this site quite often, so be sure to check back.