Mystery Shoppers in Church

So, I love reading Anne Jackson's contributions. She quite seriously has a few screws missing (and that is a huge compliment, by the way). Anyway, stumbled a recent posting of hers on "mystery worshippers." Seems like some churches are using consultants akin to the way retail establishment and entities use mystery shoppers to provide feedback on the experience.

Seems like The Wall Street Journal has chronicled the phenomenon.

Is this yet another sign that we are becoming too corporate?

I liked the final two paragraphs. I agree. I refuse to criticize the heart behind the people who I am sure sincerely want to document their own failings for good. However, I am a little uncomfortable with the fact that it is a serious issue if we have to turn to this to help fix the arguably most important function of church.

But if this is happening in the church, there will be many more applications. I can see my daughter hiring a friend from another school to mystery shop her kindergarten teacher. Heck, there are many things I'd die to mystery shop my parents for, like making us hand-shred important documents as a weekend chore when growing up. A "mystery child" would have been great help in documenting my concerns to the appropriate state agencies.

In fact, I can come up with a million scenarios where a mystery shop could be used, at the very least as a pitiful excuse. Houses of ill-repute and infidelity would easily be explained away ("Honey, I was doing research for Broken Home Alternatives. Honest!").

Or am I missing a life calling here? I think I would be gifted at this. I could blitz churches during Easter and Christmas, and have a prime time special the morning after cataloging various issues like ministers and pastors whose shoes don't match their belts, and which churches use modesty blankets appropriately. My very own red carpet show.

Then, just as in retail, underground movements to sniff out mystery worshippers will spring up. Anybody who looks too closely at the band, or keeps their eyes open during worship, or takes notes even more frequently and copiously than Deacon White during service would be suspect, and will be exposed to the local area via Twitter. Extra special care must be taken with the newbie who savors the donuts and coffee with TV advertisement-like severity.

Now, pastors will be forced to incorporate hand signals, and there will be an upswing in the use of "praise ringers" or folks used as Hype Men. Just what we need... Flavor Flav teaching us the finer points of getting things started right....

Anyway, dreams of career options aside, great story.

Much thanks to papanashul for the image via Creative Commons License (Flickr).

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Yep. Old.

So, I lamented about my age here a while back, and got some much unneeded affirmation this weekend at the tournament I coached at.

In the hotel lobby, I ran into an old player of mine, Chris. Now, I had known Chris since my rookie days as a high school assistant. In fact, I knew Chris since he was in middle school.

Well, guess who is coaching now? Yes, you guessed right: Chris.

You know you are old when your old/graduated players start coaching.

We had a blast reminiscing about the old days. Chris was a fiery player in his heyday, so I needled him by telling his current players of how their coach acted way back when, and I advised them to give him a hard time.

It was great to see him; I wish I had seen him in action.

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The Kingsport Chronicles.

Spent most of the weekend in Kingsport, Tennessee with my team, taking part in the SCOSA Appalachian Fall Soccer Festival.

It was sure to have a lot of subplots; first game since one of my angels broke her foot; the first game when I would have another angel back from another fracture; and the first game with our two new players. All that in the pleasant foothills of TN.

As always, I was somewhat nervous. I spent the solitary drive up windy Hwy 321 thinking and rethinking field combinations. I guessed we'd be playing some good teams, but not knowing the ability of the teams (or parent club) gave me pause.

In any case, our first two games went well. The scores (4-0 and 3-0) did not reflect the toughness of the teams we played. Our third game (a 9.30 am battle in seemingly freezing weather) was a toughie, but we eeked out a goalless tie.

That set up a last game that we really needed to win to avoid a final game (to win on points).

The last game was one we should have supposedly won easily on paper. However, the other team came out swinging. They scored in the first few minutes.

Fortunately, we put one in almost immediately after, and put two more grit goals in to seal the victory and the tournament top spot.

Great outing, my angels are champions, and they did it in style. 10 goals for, 1 against. I am so very proud!

Go Lightning!


Sent via my BlackBerry.

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10 Crucial Youth Ministry Laws

Youth ministry is a tightrope over a minefield. Youth pastors have to learn early that once you lose the facade of respect, you have lost the battle.

I do have a couple of pointers for the rookies and vets alike. They are gleaned from things I have seen. They don't teach these in seminary.

Of course, none of these were perpetuated by me.


1) Never use the word "chillax" at all. Ever. Period.

2) Do not get faux tattoos. Nothing kills your juice like cheap ink smears.

3) Resist the urge to use urban slang. Do not call the young ladies "shawtie" or the guys "cats." Terms like those are very easily considered offensive by the untrained ear, and you could get arrested. Seriously. Ask The Kingsmen about Louie, Louie.

4) Crying is cool, but like shrimp and William Shatner, moderation is key.

5) There is no law that I am aware of that forces youth pastors to dye their hair blonde. There is no biblical exhortation either. Unless you are a biblical Nazarene (like Samson), regular haircuts and dos work just fine. Think about Eminem and Grace Jones. They are not youth pastors.

6) Don't challenge your youth to dunk contests.

7) Don't challenge your youth parents to dunk contests.

8) Don't invite your mother to speak to your youth group, unless she has lockjaw, mouth surgery or is otherwise unable to talk. Nothing hurts your ministry more than anecdotes of you running down the street naked at age three. Pictures hurt more.

9) No dancing. It is a lose-lose proposition. You'll either look like a Tin Man impersonator or a video hoochie. Definitely don't do splits. When you do splits, nothing is gained; there is plenty that can be lost.

10) Never be too embarrassed to say the phrase "I don't know" in response to a difficult question.


Prayin' for ya!


Sent via my BlackBerry.

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Soccer Life Lessons.

Sometimes, the important things in life can get hidden behind fear.

This weekend, again, I relearned a few life lessons.

1) Courage comes in difference sizes. It can appear in a 5'2" frame, carried off the field of play with a serious fracture, or in a 5'7" frame who is hurt but refuses to leave her teammates, and every height in between.

2) Courage doesn't always mean confronting your fears head on, on time. Sometimes, it means coming back to be there for your team before it is too late.

3) Nothing -- exhaustion, superior numbers, seeing a friend rushed to hospital -- nothing is bigger than pure heart. Want to know the definition of team? Come watch Lightning play.

4) Nothing is more overwhelming than a bunch of 11-yr olds looking at you for direction. Trust personified.

5) You realize that even though some players may support Virginia Tech or Notre Dame or (God forbid) Duke, they are still angels in your book. After all, it is usually the parents who are making horrible mistakes. Not everybody is nice enough to be a Carolina fan.

Win or lose, these ladies have won my heart, and I am learning, at the very least, as much from them as they are learning from me.

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What a weekend...

Wow.

So, it started well enough. We won our game on Saturday. Not our prettiest showing. We scored "grunt" goals, and a defensive miscue led to a goal conceded, but a 3-1 win is something to celebrate.

Sunday was a nightmare.

We were scheduled to play one of the top teams in our league. I had broken my toe the day before, so I was already a little less than optimal.

The game started... we were doing well (if a little gun shy). A few minutes into the game, one of my players went down and didn't get up. As was customary, I ran out to check on her as play was stopped.

I was slightly concerned when I found her crying, knowing she is generally one to pop back up after collisions. I became more concerned when she couldn't move and I had to carry her off the field.

My heart froze when I saw her ankle. By this time, her parents and my manager had made it to us on the sideline. After looking at her leg, we made the immediate decision to take her to the emergency room. I suspected that her ankle was broken.

So, I returned the game really bummed out. The girls were bummed out too. The rest of the half was a blur.

As for the game itself, I was now down to eight players (no subs). Then, another of my ladies fell sick right before the second half began. Yep, I had to play the opposing team a player down. I also had to spend halftime talking and settling my ladies (and myself) down.

I made the adjustments, killing one wing, and then consolidating the middle. Somehow, exhausted, my girls rose to the occasion, and actually controlled the game.

At one point, one of my players went down. She needed to come off, but she looked up, saw her teammates needed her, and jumped up on one foot. To be careful, I took her off anyway, so we we had to play down two players for a spell.

Somehow, some way, it ended at zeros. I was so proud!

Went to the hospital afterwards. Sherry had broken her heel, and was about to be operated upon. It broke my heart to see her in her hospital room.

The operation was a success, and yesterday, we skipped practice to hang out with Sherry at home. Great time. Sherry will be gone for 10 weeks. We also found out that my other player who broke her heel should be back with us next week.

Crazy weekend!


Sent via my BlackBerry.

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