Apple Watch, Post-Keynote Reflections

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

Prior to the keynote on the Apple Watch this past Monday, I wrote a post outlining my opinion on the product and some of what I thought might be announced. My predictions were mostly wrong, with the exception of the observation that the product is almost solely influenced by fashion rather than technology. As a result, my opinion on the product also holds up fairly well, even post-keynote. I've been asked a few times what I thought, so I figured I'd turn those opinions into a post, and here it goes.

Who is the target audience?

The first thing that I can't wrap my head around is who, exactly, the target audience is for this device, other than "folks-who-have-money-to-burn". In contract, the iPhone was targeted at phone users: it was going to replace at least one device that you already had with you, and probably more than one if you had a cell phone, an iPod, and a Palm Pilot (and ultimately, if you had a GPS as well, although no one carried a GPS in their pocket...or did they?) The iPad was a little less focused, and was pitched as a third device. It might ultimately replace a laptop for a certain crowd, and time has shown that it has indeed done that for a particular crowd of people, but when it first came out there wasn't an obvious, "this is what it's used for". That was the chief criticism, and over time, I think that what has developed is sort of an idea that there isn't a universal, specific use case for an iPad, but you might have a specific use case that you use it for and therefore find it to be irreplaceable in your workflow. I use my iPad as my primary reading device, and I use it to view my manuscript when I'm speaking or preaching. I can imagine a scenario where I no longer have an iPad, but I don't want to. It's a part of my workflow and far from using it less and less (as some people say they do) I actually try to use it more and more. But I digress.

The point is that the iPad was less focused than the iPhone, and sales have followed accordingly, so that while Apple are still selling a boatload of tablets, it's not as much as it once was. First, people may or may not find them a compelling, necessary product, and second, people keep them longer because they are more expensive, and just tend to keep on working. Case in point, my original iPad still works and as I watched my son play a game on it this morning, I couldn't help but think about how well it continued to work. New games don't work, but the old games and Netflix still work great.

Back to the Watch. Who needs one? What will it do for you that you can't do already, or find another product to do that is significantly less expensive? Let's say that the target audience is "watch wearers". That audience has shrunk significantly, as a result of having a phone in our pockets at all times. Clearly there are still profits to be made there and watch manufacturers appear to be doing okay (as far as I can tell). My speculation here is that in the watch industry, the watch makers who are doing okay and are making a profit tend to sell watches that cost $350 or more. In other words, if the target audience is "watch wearers", then what we're really talking about is "watch wearers who will spend more than $350". That may be out of necessity; my guess is it's really the only thriving part of the watch market that still exists.

The problem is that if it is targeted to watch wearers, I still cannot fathom someone being willing to spend that much money on a watch that is clearly less convenient than a mechanical watch. Setting aside the fact that it does significantly more than a mechanical watch, it has two very real drawbacks. First, that you have to charge it. Second, that it is definitely and clearly going to be obsolete at some point. How long will that be? I'm not sure that anyone knows. My original iPhone was obsolete a lot quicker than my iPhone 5, which still runs great and which they are still selling new, although branded as the 5C. Nevertheless, the mechanical watch essentially never becomes obsolete, unless it breaks. It's possible that the fashion of a mechanical watch is outdated within a few years, but that is ultimately subjective and wouldn't demand an upgrade. The march of technology as it is means that it's entirely possible that the first generation of Apple Watch might not work at all in a couple of years. Not only will it be outdated, it will functionally become a paperweight.

A second target audience might be "fitness trackers". That is, the group of people who have been buying Jawbone UP's, Fitbit's, and any other number of typical fitness trackers. There is clearly a growing "wearables" market, primarily dominated by fitness type accessories that track steps and any other number of metrics. I know for certain that I would not be included in the "watch wearer" category, but I'd consider myself part o the "fitness trackers" category. I've owned more than one, and used them extensively until they broke. (That "until they broke" part reveals that there is a lot of work to be done in this market.)

The problem is that if this is the target market, I can't help but think that the Apple Watch is over-priced and underperforming for what it does, particularly since at this point it needs to be paired with an iPhone to fully function anyway. For example, the fact that it counts your steps, adjusts accordingly, and gives you a reminder to stand up are all the same things that my Jawbone UP did. It would give me fitness targets, remind me when to move, etc. The band would vibrate on my arm, but the accompanying app on my iPhone would also alert me. In other words, to be fully functional, the Jawbone required an iPhone (or Android). The chief difference between the Watch and the UP in this particular regard is that the Watch can show me the information on it's display that the UP required me to take my phone out to see. That is an added convenience, but is it worth the $250 price premium over the year-and-a-half ago price of the UP? Furthermore, the Watch requires a daily charge; the UP could charge once a week–and for only an hour or two, at that.

So maybe the target audience is "Watch wearers (willing to spend $350+) who also wear fitness trackers". The Apple Watch would thus consolidate two devices into one, the way that the first iPhone did. If the focus is that specific, however, then so must the target audience be relatively small.

I return to where I started: who is the target audience? And I'm just not sure. If it's the fitness crowd, I think it's too expensive. If it's the watch crowd, I think it's too replaceable. If it's anyone else...well, I'm not sure there is anyone else.

My guess is that right now, it's generally aimed at anyone who has $350 to spend on an accessory for their iPhone and, like the iPad, it will be up to the consumer to determine what they "need" it for. My gut tells me that there isn't a compelling need or desire at that price. I'll say again what I said in my first post on the Watch–at 200 dollars, I'd be lined up at the store. And in a couple of years, I fully expect that it will cost around 200 dollars. In that sense, Apple is perhaps too far ahead of the technology curve. They can build the watch now, but they can't sell it at a price that the majority of consumers will buy it at. I think that's why they are billing it as a "luxury fashion" item rather than a piece of technology. There is room for these prices in the luxury fashion market; the downside is that there aren't that many people shopping in that market, but the upside is that there is profit to be made, which is generally Apple's chief metric.

I'll admit that I'm disappointed at what Apple is offering with the Watch, partly because I can't afford it, and partly because I feel like the reason I can't afford it isn't because they just couldn't make something at the price point I could afford, but because they decided to make a product that intentionally left me out. (I realize that sounds incredibly self-focused as if all Apple products should revolve around my wants and needs...hear me out.) What I mean is that they opted for fashion, and beauty, and uber-technology over creating a product that "just worked". Rather than designing a product that showed restraint but met the general needs of the majority of people, it seems like they made a product that does far more than you can think of and definitely far more than you need.

Or I'll say it another way. The iPhone and the iPad felt like magic. They felt like a device that was almost impossible, and yet here it was, in my hand. A full computer, in my hand. And not only that, but a full computer I could get for $200 (on contract), or for just over $500 for a book-sized screen that I could touch and hold in my hand and surf the internet and check messages and any other of tasks that felt sort of mundane on a computer, but now felt personal and alive. Apple had taken advanced technology and made it accessible to me, a mere, normal human with an average income. The Watch feels more like advanced technology that's only accessible to the elite; and I'm afraid that Apple is marketing it exactly like that. Advanced technology that is exclusiveelite, luxurious. The iPad and the iPhone felt like luxurious items that were available to the everyday person! The Watch feels like a luxurious item that is only available to the wealthy. That feels wrong to me.

As disappointed as I am, however, I have to remind myself that people have been saying that there is "no need" for every product that Apple has released, and they've been wrong. So maybe I'm the one who is going to look like a fool when these things sell like hotcakes and I have one on my wrist six months or a year from now. Unless someone gives me a gift, though, I can't imagine it will be on my wrist in exchange for $400.

 

Time

Added on by Nate Kohrs.

My goal for nosquareinch.com is that it would be a place where ideas can be presented openly and honestly. I've asked my friend Nate to post when he has time and present his ideas on life, faith, and whatever else comes to mind. You can check out more of Nate's work at natekohrs.com.

I've recently been spending some time in Australia, visiting my wife while she is on a work assignment here. From what I've seen, I can safely say that it's a beautiful country, with more to explore and see than could probably ever be done in one lifetime. I'm a fan of OZ.

From my extensive study of Australia I've learned that it's quite far from the US. In fact, it's so far that depending on where you are in OZ, you're as many as 16 hours ahead of Eastern Time. This is a strange concept to me... not the fact that Australia and the US are in different time zones... I'm vaguely schooled in geography, so the earth's rotation, seasonal variations, and the relative location of the sun are all ideas that I'm remotely familiar with. What I'm referring to is the relativity of time itself.

For the sake of practicality, we (humanity) have devised a clever measuring system we call "time". It's a way for us to measure life, growth, death, celestial events, traffic commutes, and football games (that's American football mates). We even measure it down to smaller and smaller increments so that we can be more and more specific about when things begin and end. Time is a paradigm we have built our societies around, and rightly so. We all have a limited amount of this time commodity in which to live, to be young, to have children, to learn, to grow, to build something, to enjoy retirement... and the list goes on. Since our lives are finite, we must rigorously delineate the span of our perceived existence. Because we cannot change time, we have grown more and more precise in the way we label it, in an effort to approximate a sense of relative control over it.

But Einstein proved once and for all in the early 20th century, that time isn't at all a fixed thing. It's inextricably woven into the fabric of space, and can warp and change depending on where you are and how fast (or slow) you're moving. Time itself, therefore, is all about perception.  However, Einsteins theory actually breaks down when we try to rewind the cosmic clock back to the very beginning of the universe. Since the theory of General Relativity was first published, many scientists have worked on developing a theory that can take us back to the very instant the universe began, and beyond(??). These collaborative efforts have come to be referred to as String Theory.

I've read a bit about String Theory (a 'theory of everything' that seeks to unite quantum mechanics and general relativity to comprehensively define the moment of the universe's origin among other cool stuff) and I find it absolutely fascinating, though my actual grasp of the concept is likely akin to a grasshopper reading Shakespeare; cursory at best.

Regardless of my lack of comprehension, the relativity of time really intrigues me, and perhaps helps to shape my own perception of this 'commodity ' we humans measure out so precisely. Practically speaking, we only have a limited amount of time to work with. Though in reality its not a fixed thing, as far as our daily lives are concerned we're as bound by time as we are by gravity. Oh, and apparently gravity's relative too....

 

Saturday Night

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

I signed in to the blog to write a new post about something that's been on my mind since this morning, but decided against it for the time being. (It was going to be about an article I read on a proposed legislative change in Maine that would require non-profit organizations to pay property taxes, but I'll save that for another day. It's probably not as disinteresting as you might imagine, and it has potentially much more profound effects than you may realize...) In any event, I decided to write a brief note on what I do on Saturday nights. 

Saturday nights are about brain rested and engaged, all at the same time. If it's been a good week, and I'm well-prepared, then I've just gotten done with my two-day weekend, starting on Friday morning and going through the day on Saturday. Sunday, my week starts up again, and it starts up with a bang. It's my busiest day, and it requires by far the most mental energy, for at least two reasons. I'll preface this by saying that this isn't intended to be a "woe is me" story. It is just how things are.

The first reason that Sunday requires a lot of mental energy (if you care about the people in your church) is that most people are coming in on Sunday and they are burned out from the week. They are tired, they are in need of encouragement, they want to hear what God has to say, they want to be built up, challenged, equipped, and then sent on their way, and the expectation is that it's my job to do that for them, or at least, to do my best. Because I care about the people in my church, I want that for them. I want to take the Bible and explain it to them in a way that matters for the real, everyday life. I honestly believe that if "Christianity" is just something you do on Sundays, then it's worthless. It has to have traction in the rest of your life; it has to have as much meaning when you show up at work on Monday as it did to you on Sunday. In other words, I don't think that Christianity is something that you do to make you feel good. I don't think it's something that "works for some people" but doesn't work for others, as if religion really is just a pick-one-that-makes-you-feel-good affair. I think that Christianity either has to offer a meaningful and rationale explanation for why things are the way that they are, so that it actually offers real answers that matter or it's really nothing. To say it another way, what we believe has to ultimately touch every square inch of our lives in some fashion; hence, there is no square inch of life that cannot be explored, examined, and considered.

The second reason that it requires so much mental energy is that to actually offer that meaningful insight into life in a way that matters means that physically speaking, you are going to engage a significant percentage of your brain. There was a Mythbusters episode that sought to prove (or disprove) the myth that humans only use about 10% of your brainpower. As they tested, they noticed that there were ways that would engage a significantly greater percentage of brainpower, as in when you were doing multiple things at the same time. For example, if you were walking around, reading, speaking, and recalling a story all at the same time. Anyone who has every done any public speaking already knew that experientially, but it's actually backed up by science. If you've ever wondered why you are so exhausted after speaking to a group of people (even if you enjoy it!), this is the reason. It requires far more coordination of various brain functions than most people realize.

This is the reason that a Saturday night is both simultaneously about resting and engaging all at the same time. It's like stretching. Or mental yoga. Yoga, because I try to focus on what it is that I'm going to say on Sunday. Stretching, because I'm trying to warm up my brain just enough so that it's ready to go, but not so much that it's already tired.

At the end of the day, though, the reason I try to engage/rest on Saturday goes back to that idea that tomorrow, I feel a burden for the truth of God and for the people of our church. I want to make the connection between those two things: here is what is true, here is what that means for us when we get out of here. I have enough confidence in God's power, and enough trust in our church, that even if I totally blow it and whiff (or, as I've thought in the past, if I Charlie Brown it) I know that they are going to be okay and they are going to come back next weekend. There's more than enough grace to go around!

On the other hand, I know that I've got 30 minutes. And then for most of us it's back to the grind. Back to real life. Back to figuring out what God and Jesus and the Bible actually have to do with my bills, my family, my work, my co-workers, my neighbors, and everything else that sucks the life out of me during the week. Here's to hoping that 30 minutes is time well spent.

 

Ocean Ripples

Added on by Nate Kohrs.

My goal for nosquareinch.com is that it would be a place where ideas can be presented openly and honestly. I've asked my friend Nate to post when he has time and present his ideas on life, faith, and whatever else comes to mind. You can check out more of Nate's work at natekohrs.com.


I recently read an article about something referred to as ‘The Great Pacific Garbage Patch’. If you’re not familiar with this, it’s essentially what the name implies; a giant mass of trash (mostly plastic) floating somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. There are a lot of pictures online of the patch, and they’re all quite terrifying and, for me, guilt inducing (perhaps rightfully so) as I begin to visually pick out some pieces of trash roughly recognizable as being painfully similar to things I discard on a regular basis. But the thing that struck me most while reading about the patch is the fact that the vast majority of it’s mass is not visible. Most of the plastic particulate is microscopic and lingering below the surface of the water; like an iceberg of plastic I suppose, where you can only see a small portion of the evil lurking beneath the surface.

As I read more about The Patch, I am finding that though the plastic will continue to break into smaller and smaller bits, it will never actually dissolve into its constituent chemical pieces… i.e. it will never stop being plastic. Microscopic organisms will ingest it, larger organisms will ingest them, fish will ingest them and so on, until inevitably the plastic ends up on some rich persons $150 plate of sustainably sourced wild salmon tartare.

Now before Jeremy revokes my ability to post, citing reasons of environmental quackery, let me get to my main question: Do some things never go away? And I’m not just talking polyethylene here… What about things we do? What about words we say? Is Russell Crowe right in Gladiator when he says, “what we do in life echoes in eternity”? (I know he’s totally badass in that movie regardless, but is he right??)

That question sits heavy with me, mostly because I think the answer is 'yes'. As a driven and work focused person (I’m a composer and musician) I have to admit that I desire to create something that lasts beyond my own lifetime. Something bigger than myself. I think that if we are all honest, we can probably admit that we have an internal desire to somehow live beyond the span of our own time on this earth.

Some people start families so that their name and DNA will continue on long after they themselves are gone. Some create artwork in a desire to connect with others on an emotional level in a way that transcends generations and culture. Some people leave a lasting legacy in the relationships they foster so that their heart and intentions will be repeatedly reflected in the lives of others. And of course, some people leave a legacy of brutality, bigotry and hatred that garners them morbid notoriety that continues well after they’ve expired. All of these examples seem to point toward the idea that there is something innately human about wanting to last... wanting to matter. Wanting our time and existence to count for something.

As a human I'm stuck with a failing body in a crumbling world, but as a Christian, I can't help but see this inborn desire as a sort of longing for the eternal. A spiritual stretch toward my true self... a self that isn't subject to the finiteness that I'm inexorably shackled to. My time on earth, significant though it may be, is merely a chance for me to begin to define who the Eternal Me really is.

It seems clear that our lives do have an inevitable ripple-effect. Whether its a plastic bag that eventually ends up being plated up at Per Se (a fancy pants restaurant in New York that I really felt would drive home my ‘we all eventually reap what we sow’ point) , or a painting sitting in the Louvre adored by millions for generations to come, or a life-example we set that instills a seed of inspiration in someone who then goes on to change the world (either for good or for evil), everything we do has a repercussion. Everything counts. That really makes me want to make good music, say good words, live a good life, and maybe throw away fewer plastic bags.

Personalities, 20-something's, & Leadership

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

Back when I was on staff at a church that had a staff, we spent a lot of time considering personality theory and how it related to leadership and chemistry on the team. All staff members were required to take the DISC personality profile. In contrast to some other personality tests, the DISC profile is specifically designed to help you understand how you operate in a team environment. You'll always find people who overemphasize personality type and those who underemphasize it. I personally think that these personality assessments can be an excellent tool to help understand how people operate. Even during my assessment for church planting, we were required to take both the DISC and the Meyers-Briggs. The idea was that it would help you focus on your strengths, and be aware of your weaknesses; the very least benefit you would receive was to discover that you actually did have weaknesses.

One of the challenges of any personality profile, however, is knowing what to own and what not to own. What parts of your personality were going to define you, and which parts were you actively going to work against? Although I am certain that both nature and nurture play a role in the development of our personalities as measured by these tests, the fact is that by the time we are self-aware enough to take them they have become inherent. That is, the measured traits are simply part of the way that we operate, whether born or learned. Nevertheless, they only own us if we own them; you don't actually have to treat people like they are illogical-neanderthals-who-wouldn't-know-a-good-idea-unless-someone-like-me-were-there-to-enlighten-them unless we decide to own that portion of our personality. (If you are an INTJ personality type on the Meyers-Briggs, this is one of your potential weaknesses: by the time you come to a decision, you have so thoroughly thought it through, and are so convinced that it is the correct and only option, that anyone who disagrees with you is an idiot.) You don't have to own those negatives. They don't have to be true of you. You can identify them, and then work against them and realize that it's possible that you aven't thought of everything; it's possible that other people have good ideas, too.

A second challenge is that personality, even though it may be inherent, takes time to properly identify in ourselves. We have more of a handle on who we are at 30 than we did at 20. We may not have much of life figured out, but at very least we have more experience and understanding of how we operated in a variety of situations that, as we compile that data in our own minds, a picture of who we really are begins to emerge. My DISC results when I was 25 were roughly the same as when I took it at 30, but I understood it far better and could see how it reflected who I really was and how I really operated. At 25, I owned it as something to be proud of; other people wished they had my profile. At 30, I had a more balanced perspective, realizing the downfalls as well as the benefits. At 35, I realize how much help I need from people around me if I'm going to do anything of significance. The more I've come to understand how I'm wired, the more I've come to depend on those around me in a healthy way.

Despite it's challenges, I still think that personality theory continues to be a valuable tool in the leaders arsenal. It both helps you how to deal with the people around you, whose personalities are inevitably different from your own, and also allows you to give them grace because you have a grasp on the things that they simply are not capable of doing. In that sense, understanding the personality of your employees is similar to how I had to understand the skill level of my basketball team. I had a certain coaching instinct going into this past basketball season; there was a way I had coached last year and there were certain milestones I wanted to achieve. And then I met my team, and I had to reevaluate my plans. I watched them play, considered their skill, and figured out what they could reasonably accomplish. Once I understood that, it changed the way that I coached them because I now understood what I could expect of them, and just as importantly, what I couldn't expect of them. There were some things that they were simply not capable of doing; it would have been oppressive for me to get on them about those things. The same goes with understanding the personality theory of our teammates or employees. If you want them to think exactly the same way that you think, you will be severely disappointed. If you get on them about it, they will feel oppressed. Knowing how they are wired helps to know the best way to help them achieve your goals for them, and their goals for themselves.

All of this is an introduction to what prompted this post to begin with. This morning I was reflecting on how difficult it can be to lead people who are in their 20's. I've heard numerous business leaders complain about this. There are studies that are done that try to identify different areas where the generations are different. All of that is helpful. But at base, I think, one of the challenges in leading 20-somethings is that oftentimes it's difficult to actually assess their personality.

I was thinking about this in relation to the most simple of personality theories, the Type A and Type B personality theory. How you handle a Type A, and the things you can expect of them, are significantly different than how you might handle a Type B. The problem is that there are a lot of people in their mid-20's who have one personality type, but are masquerading as the other. For example, there are a lot of Type A personality types who still think that sleeping in until 9:00 or later is totally reasonable. On the flip-side, there are Type B's who have embraced adulthood, so that they appear to be more ambitious than their peers, but in reality are simply more mature. It's easy to treat mature 20 year olds like they are Type A's, when they aren't. It's also easy to treat young Type A's like they are Type B's, and never challenge them to get off their duff and make a difference.

Of course, that's what the 20's are about. Figuring out what works for us. The complicating factor for the person trying to lead is that it's extremely easy to expect or demand things from a mature Type B that they are just aren't capable of delivering, or, aren't capable of delivering it the way you expected them to, whether in the time frame you wanted or with the detail you assumed. It's also extremely easy to write off some immature Type A's because you assume they are incapable of the challenge of leadership.

There's only one way that I've discovered to actually deal with this difficulty. Treat everyone that works with you or for you as people. Remember that they are gifted and flawed all at the same time. Remember that they have strengths and they have weaknesses, and you have strengths and you have weaknesses. Remember, especially when dealing with younger people, that they are trying to figure things out. Expect much, give much grace. Realize that almost everything you are pouring into them is an investment in the future. 20-somethings can accomplish a lot; with your help they'll be able to accomplish a lot more when they are in their 30's.

I think back to when I was in my twenties. I was a pain in the butt to everyone I worked for, and probably many people I worked with. I thought I knew everything. It would have been easy for people around me to write me off or pass the buck to the next poor sucker who had to deal with me. Some folks did that, and I don't blame them. Other's didn't, and for them I am grateful. As a result of their influence and willingness to live with the 20-something pain-in-the-butt, I think and hope that their investment has paid off significantly through a 30-something who is still a pain-in-the-butt, but a much more humble and productive one.

I hope I pass on that same balance of expectation and grace to the people around me.

Freedom from Condemnation & Drivenness

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

This is part one of a four part series on freedom from condemnation. The four parts ended up being Freedom from CondemnationRepentanceParenting, and Drivenness.

Probably the first topic that came to mind when thinking about how our freedom from condemnation actually interacts with the reality of our lives was the topic of drivenness, but for a variety of reasons, it's the last one I'm going to mention. The reason for the delay is largely because this topic applies to me in a very real sense, and anything I write is either going to be personally convicting or hypocritical if I haven't actually applied the truths to my own life. I know that I need to apply the truth of my freedom from condemnation to my own drivenness; knowing how to do that is another matter altogether.

Drivenness comes in many different forms, but at it's base, I think it comes from a desire to meet a certain set of standards. Those standards can either be external (I want to live up to my parent's dreams for me) or they can be internal (I want to be the best that I can personally be.) They can stem from a positive experience, like having supportive parents, or they can stem from a negative experience, like being bullied in High School. Regardless of where the standards generated, the driven person wants to achieve them and meet them at all cost. The standards become more than just healthy goals; they become the expectation. Anything less is unacceptable.

We typically call driven people "ambitious" but that doesn't tell the full story. Lots of people have ambition, but they can give themselves grace when they fall short. Driven people can't. It's the standard or nothing. They push forward relentlessly. At night, they fall asleep thinking about all that they didn't accomplish. A voice in their head whispers, "you're just a big phony; you can never measure up." The next morning, the driven person wakes up to attack the voice, the standard, to achieve. 

To some of you that description will sound somewhat crazy. I'm not saying that all driven people hear voices in their heads or go to sleep depressed, but I bet it happens more than we know and more than driven people themselves would want to admit, particularly if they claim to be a Christian. They know it's not right, they know that their identity should be found in Christ, they know that they are not defined by their failures. Nevertheless they also can't seem to let go of the drivenness that motivates them to keep going.

Let me say this first, then. I'm pro-drivenness. Driven people get stuff done. The other day I was going into a board meeting after running around between two or three different after-school events and the president of the board commented that the old saying was, "if you want to get something done, ask someone who is busy." It sounds counter-intuitive on it's face, but the point is that if you find someone who is busy, chances are, you have found someone who likes getting stuff done. You've probably found someone who is pretty driven.

The problem with drivenness, and the reason that we are in constant need to be reminded of our freedom from condemnation, is that our drivenness is almost solely based on our ability to meet the law. In other words, it's legalism. We find our self-worth and our joy from being able to accomplish the standard; when we achieve whatever standard it was, we feel justified, and when we don't, we feel condemned. The drive to fulfill the law may therefore be joy, if we can succeed, but it is also, and maybe even moreso, fear of condemnation if we fail. It is not too fine a point to make to say that if you could strip away the layers of the driven person's heart, what you would find is a person who just doesn't want to fail. Fear of failure is fear of condemnation.

This is why it is condemnation that must be done away with. Law, without Christ, always leads to condemnation. There is no other way. The reminder the driven person needs is that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. The challenge is remembering this truth when we inevitably fail!

Drivenness, ambition, or whatever you want to call it is not inherently wrong. I think it's a good thing. But as good as it is, it can kill your soul. It kills your soul by making you feel like your justification, your goodness, your self-worth is found only when you meet the law. And when you fail, it's on you.

The good news of Jesus is that we are free to be driven, and yet we are also free from the fear of failure and condemnation. Driven people need grace and can live in the reality of Grace, in success and in failure. We continue to have joy when we succeed; because of Jesus, we also have joy when we fail. Our joy is not dependent on our efforts. Our joy is dependent on Christ's efforts, for our freedom.

Vision, Leadership, & Teamwork

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

I don't like meetings.

Actually, let me rephrase that.

I actually enjoy meetings. I just don't like what they do to people.

Meetings give the impression of valuable work, when nothing is actually getting done. They give the attendees the nspiration, but often that inspiration never generates into the perspiration required to actually accomplish the mission. 

Early on in our church planting adventure, there was a weekly (weekly!) meeting of leadership to discuss what was happening in the church and strategize for the future. Those meetings were never dull; it's one of the benefits of enjoying the company of the people you work with. Unfortunately it also gave the impression that a lot was getting done when in reality, almost everything we wanted to do was stuck in committee. A lot of good ideas were getting thrown out, but nothing was actually being done when the meeting was over.

That culture tends to attract the type of people who want to be in "leadership", but weren't leading anything, and in many cases, didn't want to lead anything. They just wanted to be at the meeting, because the perception was that this was where the "power" was generated. If they were at the meeting, they'd have input, and input equalled influence.

Someone said once that "culture eats strategy for lunch". That is, you can have the best strategy in the world, but your culture is going to be the dominant force that will ultimately dictate what you can get done. Anyone leading an organization knows how difficult it is to change the culture of the organization. Yet that's what we needed to do right from the get go. Meetings couldn't be the pinnacle or the destination of our work; they were more like the rest stop on the side of the highway.

Imagine your leadership team as a caravan of vehicles all headed towards a destination down the highway. A meeting is like the rest stop. They are necessary. Sometimes you need to make sure that the caravan of vehicles is all relatively close together so you didn't lose one another. It is good to catch up and make sure no one accidentally took an exit ramp since the last meeting, and make sure that no one is so far ahead that they aren't really a part of the caravan anymore.

Meeting based cultures are like the caravan that gets stuck at the rest-stop and keeps going inside to check the map. They may have the map memorized. They know where they've been, they know where they are, they know where they are going. But they never move.

We needed a leadership based culture. A leadership based culture is the caravan on the highway that only stops at rest-stops to make sure that the group was all still together, that they were all still headed in the same direction, and that no one was too far ahead or too far behind. In other words, the eal work gets done outside of the meeting. That was the cultural change. Unless you were doing work outside the meeting, you really didn't need to be at the meeting. If you weren't a part of the caravan, there was no need for you to stop and interface with us about the direction we were headed.

In any event, that change took some time, but now we have a leadership team that understands that the real work of ministry doesn't happen in the meeting. It happens in the nitty-gritty of daily relationships; the stuff that happens between the meetings. As our church has grown, that change in thinking becomes essential. Firstly, there is simply more ministry to be done. More people means more needs. The only way that those needs can be met is if you have leaders capable and passionate about their area of ministry. And secondly, the bigger the church and the more needs, the less time that I as the pastor have to dedicate to any one area. There is a divergence between my time and ability and the needs of the church. Other leaders need to step up.

Last night, we had our monthly ministry-leadership meeting, and I reminded them of three things that make the system work. Vision, Leadership, and Teamwork.

Vision means that we are all seeing the same thing. As the lead pastor, that falls on me to make sure that what I see is what we all see. In our case as a church, that means a radical and intense focus on visitors and new families who have been attending. This is necessary for us as more and more people join our church, but also necessary if we expect more and more people to join. We constantly need to be asking, "how does a new person view this thing?" "How does a new person feel about this?" "Does a visitor at Restore feel comfortable?" Each of us play a role in making sure that happens so that when a new person comes into Restore, they see the same thing wherever they turn or whatever leader they turn to. "This is a church who loves Jesus. This is a church who loves me."

Leadership means that we steward our position well. It means moving the ball forward. It means taking ownership. It means taking responsibility and having authority. it means stewarding our position well, so that if we ever have to turn it over to the next guy or gal, they can pick up where we left off. It means that we aren't just concerned with getting the job done now, but ensuring that we can get the job done months or years down the road when instead of 200 people we are dealing with 300 or 400. Have we been stewarding our influence and position in such a way that ministry can continue, even if we cannot?

Teamwork means understanding our position as part of a team. We are not lone rangers. We are not silos of ministry. Everything that we do impacts and affects someone else on the team or someone else in the church. If the team decides that we are going to use a particular church software to streamline our ministries and make them more efficient, it requires that everyone play their part in making that happen. For one person to be apathetic about it means that someone else will have to pick up the slack. We simply can't do our jobs alone; we need one another if we are going to have the healthiest church or organization possible.

I think one of the reasons that more churches don't move to a leadership-based culture and instead are comfortable with a meeting or committee-based culture is because a leadership-based culture requires trust in your ministry leaders. It requires you to give away authority and give them the authority that is commensurate with their responsibility. It requires you to let go of some stuff. It requires that you let people take risks and sometimes fail. It means not knowing what is going on at all times.

It's also freeing and it means that stuff gets done and the caravan keeps moving forward towards the same destination.

And every now and again, we get to stop at the rest area and stretch our legs, laugh, and have a quick meal before we head out again on the journey.

 

Loving Others

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

A notification flashed across my iPhone this morning from a pastor's group I am a part of. The question that had been posed and was now sitting on my screen was how to address a "seeking" couple that was visiting the church but had questions about a particularly difficult cultural situation. In this case, the situation was "homosexuality", but it could have been anything. The pastor wanted to know what he should say and how he should address it.

A few thoughts went through my head as I considered what I would say to him if I responded. The first was, "what do you actually believe about the subject?" My guess is that my pastor friend already knew what he believed, or at least thought he knew what he believed, but when the question is actually posed by a real actual human rather than as a theoretical concept, stuff gets real.

I want to interject and interrupt myself for a moment, because I want to say that I did not read any further than the question, and I did not get an explanation or backstory or any details about what this particular pastor knew or didn't know or thought or didn't think. That said, there was something about the wording that made me think that this person perhaps hadn't through through what he actually believed when the rubber actually met the road; when his theology met his humanity. The word that struck me was the description of the inquisitors as "seekers".

I knew what he meant. "Seeker" is church lingo for someone who is seeking God in some fashion. They are typically "spiritual" but not "religious". They may have been raised in the church, see value in Christianity, but aren't entirely sure how to mesh what they think they believe with what they think the church believes. Often times a seeker has a particular question in mind; something that is their litmus test. For one man who visited our church, his question was predestination. He wanted to believe in God, but couldn't believe in a God who predestined people to Hell. He asked me what I thought on the way out of church, and I had to answer an incredibly complex question in just a couple of minutes with very little understanding of what was behind the question or where he was coming from. When you are talking to a "seeker", the tendency is to frame your response in a way that softens or mutes the difficult edges of your answer. We convince ourselves that the person isn't ready to hear the truth, or that the truth might offend them, and we wouldn't want that! We don't want to be the person who shoves them from "seeker" status back into "lost" territory. We better make sure that our answer is true, but not so true that it is offensive.

Oftentimes our responses in those scenarios end up being so ambiguous that they leave the person on the other end feeling like they got an answer, but not being totally sure what it was. I was watching an episode of Parks & Recreation the other day where the always-positive Chris played by Rob Lowe had recently broken up with Anne, one of the main characters. The problem was that the break-up was spun in such a positive way that Anne didn't realize that he had dumped her. I wonder how often my answers to these difficult questions so ambiguous or spun so positively that the person on the other end walks away thinking that I may have said something entirely different than what I intended.

What my pastor friend was really asking was, "How do I tell these people what God really believes about homosexuality without offending them and turning them away?" I think that's a legitimate question, but I don't think it matters whether or not the people are seekers, or whether they have been followers of Jesus their entire lives and are only just now having to figure out what God really thinks about this as it becomes a more common cultural question. Instead, I think that the real question that we have to ask ourselves is this: do you really love these people?

It strikes me that Jesus doesn't turn away from difficult questions, and he doesn't soften the blow of the truth that is in his response. Sometimes, people turned away because of it. Other times, they stuck with him. Here is the key: it was never their status (lost, seeker, found, whatever), and it was never their response (turning away or sticking) that guided his answer. It was always truth embedded and presented in love. When Jesus answered a question truthfully, he knew full well that he loved the person he was talking to. That's why he answered with such poignant truth. It was because he loved them.

I had to have a difficult conversation with someone once related to this topic. The first thing I did was ask the question: what does the Bible actually say? What do I actually believe? What does God actually think? This is what it means to love God, at least in part. It means that I actually care about what He thinks, and not just what I feel. But then, ultimately, the rubber meets the road and the theology of what God says meets the humanity and the emotion and the spirit of the person sitting right in front of you who has asked, "what does God think about this?" My pastor friend knew the right answer, but he wasn't sure that he knew the right response. My question would be, "do you really love them?"

When we really love the person we are responding to, to whatever degree our love can be totally genuine, that love will shine through in our response. I'm not telling you what God thinks about an issue to prove that I'm smart, or to prove that I can one-up you, or to belittle you or make you feel bad about yourself. I'm telling you what God thinks because I love you and He loves you and because He loves you and I love you I believe that there will be more joy in the truth of what God says than there will be if I just tell you what you want to hear, or if I couch my answer in such fluff that you leave without being entirely sure what God actually thinks. Love doesn't mean we always agree. Love doesn't mean that we always give the easy answer. Love means that we can give the honest answer, even when it hurts.

I said this to the Elders of our church a while back when we had one of these difficult questions come up and we had to respond, even though we knew that the reason the person was asking is because they were putting out their little litmus test to see if we believed in a God that they could believe in. I said, "if it is not difficult for us to respond, then we are not being Elders." Responses to difficult questions are not filled with pride; they are filled with love. It ought to matter to us when we give an answer to someone that we know might cause them to leave the church or leave the fold of God. Yet we know that it would hurt more, and be more harmful, to neglect what God said, or to answer ambiguously, just for the sake of harmony; just so that we don't rock the boat.

So yes, the question is, "what do you actually believe about the subject?" But then, before we respond, we need to ask ourselves, "do I really love this person like Jesus loves them?" If so, then we respond in truth, embedded and presented in love, not ambiguity.

 

The Apple Watch

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

In my free time (by which I mean "when I'm using the facilities") I follow several apple blogs. I've been interested in technology ever since I started using the Apple IIe in the computer lab in my middle school. My family got our first desktop, an Apple Performa LC575, and for a while as a teenager it was housed in my room. I had a series of PC desktop and laptops over a period of years, but about eight years ago got my first Macbook Pro and I've been a fan of Apple ever since.

In any event, the big news out of Cupertino is the upcoming release of the Apple Watch, and whenever these big releases come up it ends up occupying a decent amount of brain-space and I find myself theorizing over certain matters that I may or not see being discussed. For example, that the high-end Apple Watch, the "Edition" model, is going to cost $10,000+. That's definitely out of my price range. But then, so is the Sport model at $349. In fact, when the Apple Watch was announced around six months ago, my thought was, "eh". It looked cool, but I didn't own a watch now, had basically made the assumption that I'd never wear a watch again, and even if I did buy a watch I wouldn't spend $349 dollars on it. The most expensive watch I owned was probably a $75.00 Fossil watch. I wasn't sure why I'd spend more than that on a watch.

Where I did see value was in the fitness tracking. I've had two UP bands. The first one was the first generation that was plagued with problems and ultimately recalled by Jawbone. A friend of mine had it, got it refunded, got to keep the band but since he didn't use it, gave it to me. I used it for a little while and enjoyed it immensely until it busted. When the UP24 came out and it had wireless bluetooth syncing, I was excited, and requested one for Christmas. At $150, it seemed a little pricey for what it was, but I got it and was even more pleased with it. Until it died less than three months later, and thanks to Jawbone's incredibly crappy customer support who just made me go around in circles for several months even though I new the daggum thing was busted, I ended up with a nice looking Jawbone UP24 in my sock drawer, aka the place where electronics go to die. I vowed that I wasn't going to get another fitness tracker until Apple released whatever it had up it's sleeve.

When the Apple Watch was announced, I viewed it primarily through that fitness tracking lens. I watched the Keynote and figured that the fitness tracking capabilities plus the added features were worth about $200 to me. That was the price point that would convince me that this was something I should go out and get. To be clear, my financial situation is such that it would not be a wise move on my part to go out and blow 200 beans. Five kids means 200 bucks is the equivalent of feeding them for a week. Until I get a week off of that racket, I'm not just going to go buy the watch. My point is that $200 is a price that I could at least convince/justify myself to go stand in line for. At least that was my initial thinking when it was first announced.

After considering it a bit more, however, I came to the conclusion that for the technology, $349 seems like a very reasonable price. If my UP24 was $150, and this Apple Watch not only did more of the same (meaning the fitness tracking), but additionally included advanced notification, an exceptional screen, on-board apps, communication tools, and much, much more, then surely $349 was a reasonable price. That still didn't mean I was going to buy it. It's a sweet piece of gear, but was I really going to use it? Again, the value to me was as a fitness tracker. That's something I don't have the ability to do right now. I can already take phone calls, send messages, send pictures, view pictures, and all that other neat stuff that was actually a bit silly and more inconvenient 95% of the time using a Watch. $349 for a fitness tracker still seemed steep.

As purely a fitness tracker, it also looks like it's going to fall short of some of the others on the market, primarily because right now the assumption is that battery life is going to be somewhat of a drag. There's nothing definitive on that right now, but the rumor floating is maybe a full day charge. One of the reasons I enjoyed my UP24 was because of the sleep tracking, which is essentially nullified on the Watch if you have to take it off and plug it in all night if you want to use it the next day.

This led me to a few thoughts which I figured I'd share here. I really have no idea whether the Apple Watch is a great idea or a terrible idea, whether it's something Apple hopes will be game/life-changing for the consumer market or something they just think they can make a reasonable amount of profit in and figure, why not? And by the way, I do think it's one of those two reasons, if not both. As far as I can tell these are essentially the two questions Apple asks: can we make it better, and can we make money doing it? Or, "is it better for the consumer?" and "are there profits here?" In cases where they excel, the answer to both of those questions is clearly yes (in their mind–you may disagree with whether or not their products are better.) With a new product, my guess is that they think the answer to the first one is "yes" and the answer to the second will be "yes" as a result. Will it be a game-changer like the iPhone or iPad? I don't think anyone is willing to give a definitive answer, unless they work at Apple and they have to say that for marketing reasons, or because they've used it and genuinely believe it will be a game-changer. Whether it's a hit or not, I'm sure Apple is poised to make significant profit, because that's how they operate.

In any case, whether it will be a game-changing hit or not, here are a few thoughts in no particular order.

The Tech in the Watch Costs $349

Basically, I think that at the base end, the Sport model, what you are paying for is the tech. I think that $349 is the cost of the technology in the watch, whether you are getting the Sport, the Watch, or the Edition.

For those people who are like me, who really don't care about watches, but do care about fitness trackers, this is the reason that Apple is selling the "Sport" edition. It's a fitness tracker that's going to cost you $349. They have done their research, crunched the numbers, and decided that this is a reasonable price that people might pay for a premium tracker, and that's basically all that they are paying for. The "case" and the "band" (more on that later) are essentially just required components necessary for holding the fitness tracker in place. Granted, the Apple Watch is much more than a fitness tracker, but it's not less. $349 is the "no-less-than" price. In other words, Apple can't sell the technology in this watch for less than $349 and still make a comfortable profit. So if the tech is all you want, that's what you are going to pay.

But that leads to the second point about the whole Apple Watch branding and strategy.

The Watch is more of a Fashion Accessory than a Tech Gadget

Or, perhaps a better way to say it is that Apple is selling their technology wrapped in a fashion accessory. In other words, what you are buying is the fashion accessory. That is where the money is at. Will Apple make money on the technology? Of course. Whatever the profit is on the $349 technology will be the same across the board. Profits will increase, however, as the costs of the particular model goes up, because what you are really buying is not the technology, you are buying the fashion. In this case, the fashion consists of two elements: the case and the band.

Here's the thing. Historically, If you buy a watch, you keep the watch. If Apple is entering into the fashion arena, which clearly they are, I think there has to be something that you keep. I don't think that the assumption here is that the paradigm for fashion is suddenly going to change, and watches will suddenly become something you turn in and replace every two years. In the case of the Apple Watch, the thing that you will keep is not the technology–technology will get old and will need to be replaced in order to have the latest and greatest functionality–but you will keep the fashion, or the case and the band.

Here is how this plays out in real life:

Sport model? Replace it. All you bought was the tech wrapped in some rubber. You really didn't buy into the fashion aspect of it. What you wanted was the tech, and Apple made it possible for you to get into the game, knowing full well that the technology will be essentially obsolete in two-three years. When that time comes, you can upgrade with the same mentality you upgrade all your other tech. You knew it was depreciating the moment you bought it. This is the "watch equivalent" of the digital watch you bought at CVS when you were 12. Lifespan? About two years.

Apple Watch? Keep the band, replace the tech. I still have two $75 Fossil watches, one I bought for myself and one that someone gave me. I could replace the battery and they'd work as good as the day that I bought them. It's not like that cheap drug-store watch, but it's also not a family heirloom. It's a decent watch that ought to last me for a significant period of time and isn't something you just throw away. Of course, I'm pretty cheap and I'm not a watch guy, so maybe most people wouldn't keep a $75 watch. I'm told that even casual watch guys, however, will typically buy a watch that costs several hundred dollars. This is the target market for the Apple Watch.  

I'm seeing that the Apple Watch will sell for a minimum of $749. If that's true, that means that the case and the band cost $400. In other words, you've essentially bought yourself a $400 watch. That's why I think that unless the watch buying paradigm where you keep something of the watch dramatically changes (and I don't think it will), there has to be something that you keep on the Apple Watch, and in this case, I think what you are keeping is the case and the band. It cost you $400. It's not depreciable. In fact, good fashion in this category seems to me to be appreciable, meaning that it increases in value over time. Maybe that's not entirely the case for even a $400 watch, but I still think that at very least, a $400 watch is something you intend on keeping for a significant period of time, and certainly longer than the two-three year window at which point the technology within the watch becomes obsolete.

And then, of course, the Edition, where this is an especially poignant point. The suggested starting point I'm seeing is a minimum of $5,000, with a realistic starting point of somewhere north of $10,000. Now, I've seen it said that people who can afford a $10,000 dollar watch can also afford it every few years if they really want it. Maybe that's true. I just can't imagine (and again, I am not in the fashion industry, but from what I've read) that if you buy a $10,000 watch, you expect it to be worth anything less than $10,000 five, ten, or twenty years from now. Anything in this price range is in the family heirloom category. If you are spending that much on a watch, I have to believe that not only is the craftsmanship so superior to other watches that it is worth the premium, but also that when you buy it, you fully expect that it will hold it's value over time and you will expect that you can pass it on to a loved one at some point in the future. Applied to the Apple Watch, this means that the 10,000 dollar watch that you bought on day one will still be worth 10,000 dollars five years from now, and probably much longer.

The technology, however, won't. It will be obsolete in three years and worthless in five. This is the major difference between the Apple Watch and some other luxury watch. Everything about the luxury watch should hold it's value down the line. The internals and the externals. Not so in the Apple Watch. In the case of the Apple Watch, only the case and the band will hold their value. 

Which leads me to the third point...

The tech will be replaceable in the Apple Watch.

I haven't seen this officially written down as a prediction, but it's what I'm thinking right now and I figured I'd throw it out there just to see if it sticks. Given everything I've read about how this is really a Fashion accessory, what I've learned about the watch industry as a result, and what my common sense tells me, I think this is the plan.

My premise is that what you really bought when you bought the Apple Watch was a $349 computer wrapped in a Rubber Band, a $400 Watch, or a $10,000 Watch. If all you want is the tech, it's going to cost you $349 and you can expect to replace it every two-three years with a similarly priced computer.

If, on the other hand, you want a piece of fashionable jewelry for your wrist-computer, that's going to cost you extra, but the good news is that Apple has studied the fashion industry and what they are making is on par or better than whatever else is out there. Were you thinking of getting a 10,000 watch? Why not buy the Apple Watch, which does far more than those watches, but carries the same prestige and luxury? Even better, it will always be up to date.

think this is why on every image of the Apple Watch, the different levels are called "cases". My iPhone is simply an iPhone. The case is something I buy after the fact that I put around my iPhone. Now, maybe in the watch world a "case" is the word that's used for the entirety of the timepiece, excluding the band. To me, though, it makes me think, again, that you are buying a $349 computer, but to carry it, you can buy a variety of different cases ranging from the low-end Sport Watch all the way up to the Solid-Gold Edition.

Once again, two (or three) things you can select with the watch.

Tech: Two sizes, $349

Case & Band: Three levels, with corresponding bands, $0, $400+, $10,000+

The tech will need to be replaced every two to three years. The Case & Band are what you are really investing in, if you want to do that.

Will it be life-changing? Who knows. 

Will Apple make money? Of course they will, otherwise they wouldn't have gotten into the category. Worst case scenario, they make whatever profit they can make off the mini-computer. Best case, they make the money from the mini-computer and a King's ransom off of the fashion, which typically carries a significant mark-up.

Of course, at the end of the day, I'm not a watch guy, and if I end up with an Apple Watch, it's going to be the Sport. Which is a big "if". I'll have to wait and see what next weeks Keynote brings.

Cheat Sheet on Financial Giving

Added on by Jeremy Mulder.

The topic of "how much am I supposed to give" has come up on more than one occasion in the past week. It got me thinking about how I respond in a variety of situations. The bottom line is that there is a lot of confusion out there around the type of generosity a Christian is called to. Some of it stems from poor theology, some of it stems from a bad experience with a church, some of it stems from hard hearts that want to believe that our money is our money and you better keep your hands off of it.

I'm not sure what it was for the guy sitting behind my wife while she waited for jury duty. "The church is just a business!" he expressed, apparently to whoever was listening. "They said that I had to give 10% of my gross income! All they wanted was my money." There wasn't any arguing with him, so Christi didn't intervene. Unfortunately, he's not alone in his confusion. Even seasoned Christians argue about whether we're supposed to give 10% of our gross or our net income. The problem is, we're arguing about the wrong thing.

What I'm going to do in this post is highlight some New Testament principles on giving. It's not a theological treatise (which you wouldn't read) or a proof-text of why I'm right and you're wrong (which would be ridiculous). It's just principles that can help us understand what God calls us to give, how he calls us to give it, and perhaps most important of all, the context in which we are called to give.

First, 10% is not mentioned as a giving standard in the New Testament.

On top of that, it's a bit of a misleading statement to say that 10% was the Old Testament norm. But before you start putting down your checkbooks and unregistering for your online giving in your unbridled enthusiasm, let me explain. A "tithe" means "10%", but in the Old Testament, but God's people were required to give two tithes and a third one every third year. So yes, 10% chunks. For a total of about 23% a year averaged over three years. In the New Testament, the old manner of supporting the temple and governance structure of the Kingdom-Temple paradigm was done away with, and giving in the New Testament was replaced with the language of "generosity". The principle all along, Old Testament included, was one of generosity. The law of 10% revealed that even God's people were incredibly stingy, and not very generous at all. The good news of Jesus, in which God himself leaves all the wealth of heaven to become a pauper and ultimately to die a cursed death on a cross for the gain of his people, should, in the end, break down our stinginess and burst forth into generosity.

Fast forward a few thousand years to the man's comment about "the church wanting 10% of my gross salary!" Why are we asking about whether or not God wants 10% of the net or the gross? It's rarely because we want to give away more. Usually it's because we want to make sure that we're meeting the bare minimum requirement, and how foolish would we be if we found out that we'd been giving based on our gross income when all God really required was 10% of our net. All that money, wasted!

(For the record, if you are GOING to use a percentage based giving system, you would use your gross salary, especially if you are going on an Old Testament-like principle. Your salary is what you earn pre-tax. The government bases your tax percentage on that salary. If you are basing your giving off some number, it's that one. Not after the government gets theres.)

Second, all that God's people have is given for the good of the kingdom of God. 

Period. This is true in the Old Testament and in the New Testament. God always operates through individuals for the good of communities. If you have been blessed with wealth, God did not bless you so that you alone would be blessed. He blessed you so that you would be a blessing to his community of people. Put another way, if God allows you to make one million dollars next year, the proper perspective is that God has given his church and his community of people one million dollars, and he has made you the steward.

Now plug in your salary.

Next year you are going to earn 65,000. The proper perspective, biblically speaking, is that God, through you, has given his community of people (his church) 65,000, and he has called you to manage that 65,000 dollars well.

Third, you give what you have, not what you do not have. 

When Paul appeals for money in the New Testament, he doesn't use percentages and he doesn't use dollar figures. He uses capacity as the measurement of generosity. What is your capacity for giving? Or, to ask it another way, how much has God given you to manage? All other things being equal, if you have a family of five and you make 65,000 a year, your capacity for giving is probably going to be significantly less than a family of five who makes 250,000.

If you took that scenario and judged based on percentages, say, 10% of gross income, you end up with one family looking somewhat generous and the other not looking that generous. Family one, making 65,000 dollars a year, would "only" have given 6,500. Family two, making 250,000 a year, would have given 25,000! How generous! Except that it's really not very generous at all, since they still have significantly more money leftover to spend on themselves. Neither the dollar value nor the percentage are an accurate reflection of true generosity. (Remember Jesus story of the woman who gave her last two coins? That was more generous than someone who gave 100 coins our of their wealth.)

GENEROSITY

So let's assume that we understand the Gospel, that Jesus literally gives up everything for the sake of his people, the church. Jesus does what the law could never do. He actually frees us from condemnation so that, instead of attempting (and failing) to follow the law to the letter, we are free to live in the spirit of the law. It's not just that the Christian doesn't murder; in the kingdom of God we don't even have hate in our hearts. It's not just that the Christian doesn't commit adultery; in the Kingdom of God we don't even look at a woman lustfully. At least, this is the ideal. It's not the letter of the law, it's the spirit of the law that was the most important thing. What the law, in it's letter, revealed to us, was how far we fall short of the spirit of the law and how much we need Jesus. (We couldn't even give 10%, let alone actually have glad and generous hearts!) And now that Jesus has come, and has transformed our hearts, so our hearts, more and more, daily and progressively, are in tune with the spirit of the law which is the spirit of God.

So here's what generosity requires.

First, it requires that we understand the Gospel. You can't just ecide to be generous. Maybe by the world's standards you can, but not by God's. Generosity is a heart issue. It's giving with gladness. And that only happens when we understand the transforming power of the Gospel.

Second, it requires that we understand what God requires. Answer: everything. It's not yours to begin with. It's his. You are called to be a steward of it for the good of his Kingdom.

Third, it requires that we understand our capacity. Not everyone can give the same amount, but I know from experience that most people assume they are on the lower end of the scale rather than the higher end, and they are almost always wrong. My guess (and a fairly educated one) is that most of us could give substantially more than we are currently giving. The only way to know, however, is to have a realistic perspective on our capacity.

Here's the thing: it requires money to live. That's reality. We have a job and earn money for two reasons: first, to provide for ourselves and our family, and second, so that we can give money away. God ants you to provide for your family, and he does not want you to go into debt so you can give. You must take a realistic assessment of what it requires for you to provide for your family, and recognize that you will only have a certain capacity for giving. 

In the example above, one family of five found out that they could live on 57,500/year, because that's what they had after giving to the church. The other family was living on 225,000/year. Why the discrepancy?

Let me be clear: Jesus was not a socialist and the New Testament church was not a socialist utopia. Anyone who argues that has an agenda and they are being ridiculous. There were wealthy people in the church and poor people in the church and some of them owned mansions and others were servants in someone else's home. Yet each of them was called to give what they could, according to their capacity. The system worked because the Holy Spirit had moved in people's hearts to such a degree that everyone wanted to give whatever it was that they had to give. Some gave more and some gave less. But all gave according to the same spirit. That is generosity.

We don't all have to drive white Honda accords and wear one-piece silver v-neck jumpsuits. We don't all have to have the same size house on the same kind of street with the same length driveway. The lower-income person can rob themselves of their capacity for giving by buying the most expensive cell-phone, and the higher-income person can rob themselves of their capacity by buying the biggest house on the block. It's okay to have differing levels of income, it's not okay to fool yourselves into thinking that you don't have more capacity for giving.

(And for the record, lower income people in the American church give a substantially higher percentage of their income than higher income people. The statistics for actual dollar amount given per household look a little better, mostly because there are some people who give massive dollar amounts that bump up the average.)

Here is how you will know that you are striking the right balance between what you need and what you are giving: when you look at your bills, and think, "I genuinely wish I could give more", you've probably got a good balance, and quite frankly, it will motivate you towards good financial stewardship. If you think, "thank God I don't have to give more" or "there's no way I could give more" or "I'm giving plenty as it is", you've got some heart work to do.

None of us are perfect, and we're not going to get there tomorrow. I'm just saying that if we're more concerned about what we have to give away than we are with what we get to keep for ourselves, we've probably got the wrong perspective. Whatever you have is given to you to steward for the good of the community around you. It doesn't always feel good, but that's when we need the Holy Spirit to change our hearts. Overtime, slowly but surely, he'll turn us into a generous people after all.