Deconstructing Criticism: Ask For It

(This is the last in a five-part series.  If you haven’t read the first four, you probably oughta.  Oh, and we’re also tying this in to our weekly “FI Fridays” series.  Win win.)

What’s the best way to get criticism?  Ask for it.

We ask for it every single week here at the Summit through our guest response cards.  Whenever a first time guest fills out a card, they receive a “thanks for coming” note along with a postage paid postcard that has four blanks:

1. This is what I noticed first…
2. This is what I liked best…
3. This is what I liked least…
4. This is what I’m most looking for in a church…

Now before you say, “You buncha pagan consumer creators!” go back and read this post.  Read it?  Okay, let’s move on.

Asking our guests for feedback is the number one way that we know whether or not we’re reaching them.  We’ve learned that if guests have a great experience, they’ll tell someone.  We’ve also learned if guests have a bad experience…they’ll tell someone.

What we want is for our guests to tell us. It’s important to us that we know how things went on their Sunday visit.  If a Summit Kids worker was rude, we want to know it.  If a parking team member didn’t seem to care, we want to be informed.  On the flip side, if the coffee was hot and the First Time Guest tent was a wow and the worship was amazing, we want to know that too.

Every time a stack of those cards are mailed in, I read them.  Every one of them.  Every.  Last.  One.  We post them on the bulletin board in the office kitchen.  We make sure they go out to Campus Pastors and ministry heads when appropriate.  The good, the bad, and the ugly…we want to make sure that it filters to the right place.

If you’re a pastor, let me ask: Do you ask? Have you asked your people for criticism lately?  Do you assume things are going well?  Or do you simply keep your head in the sand and hope that there are no problems?

Ask for criticism.  It may be the best way possible to fix a problem before it becomes unfixable.

 

Deconstructing Criticism: Giving It

(Dude, we’re 4/5 through this series.  Catch up here.  And here.  And oh yeah…here.)

Everyone’s a critic.  Even you.  Especially you.  And yes, there are times when criticism is well-grounded, edifying, and helpful.  However, there are guidelines to follow.  Here are three questions to ask yourself to get the most bang for your criticism buck:

1. “Am I approaching in humility?” Can you trace your criticism to pride?  If so, you might want to back up and pray a little more.  Humility is the WD-40 that de-squeaks the rusty hinge of criticism (That’s right, I made that up just now, just for you.  No, no need to thank me…it’s what I do.).  Seriously, a humble approach that doesn’t smack of false humility will go a long way in winning the heart and ear of those you’re talking to.
2. “Is this a legitimate problem or a personal preference?” You may think your boss is an idiot because he requires a weekly update meeting.  But is a weekly meeting an actual issue?  Does it harm productivity?  Is anyone being hurt by it?  If not…you may be traveling down Criticism Road with a sack full of your preferences.  In that case, you might want to shut it down before your selfish, me-centered heart is exposed.
3. “Do I have a relationship with this person?” Dave Ramsey says that if you’re going to thump someone on the ear, you’d better have your arm around their neck.  In other words, your criticism will carry more weight with a friend that you’ve demonstrated care for, rather than a stranger you couldn’t care less about.  My personal scientific survey that I just conducted said that I’m 459% more likely to listen to you if we have a previous relationship based on trust, humility, and mutual grace.

 

Deconstructing Criticism: Using It

(Still on Criticism Road.  Catch up here and here.)

Do you know why I get criticized sometimes?

Because I’m wrong.

Sometimes I’m wrong in a really big way.  Sometimes I’m so wrong that even the people who generally agree with me are looking at me the way people looked at General George Custer when he said, “Hey guys, they’re just a bunch of indians.  Let’s do this!”

As we hit hump day of criticism week, I don’t want to infer that people’s criticism of me (or you) is misguided.  Sometimes it’s right on target and just what I need to hear.  Sometimes, criticism means that I have to eat a little crow (non-Southerners click here).  But hey…you eat enough crow and it tastes like chicken.

Whenever and however you’re on the business end of criticism, there are three primary ways you can use it:

1. Evaluate the reasoning. I’m a firm believer that there’s something to be learned from every syllable of criticism received.  In my days as a student pastor, I remember an older lady in our church berating a student for wearing a Budweiser shirt in the church auditorium.  Was she wrong for berating him?  Yes.  Should he have been wearing it to church?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  But it was a good reminder to me that some people see unbelievers as bad people who should act good when they come to church.  I tried to walk a mile in her orthopedic shoes (I apologize…wait, no I don’t because that was funny) and I understood why she was upset.  She was still wrong, but at least I understood why she thought she was right.
2. Share the vision. Here’s what I’ve found after 16 years of ministry: 98% of people I encounter silence their criticisms once they understand the “why” behind the “what.”  Note that I didn’t say they agree with it, but they understand enough of the method behind the madness that they no longer question why we do a certain thing.  That’s why I’m always happy to exhaustingly explain things to people who want to know.  And besides, if I can’t convince ‘em, I’ll bore ‘em until they walk away.
3. Make a change. This is where eating crow comes into play.  Sometimes our critics are dead on.  Sometimes our best thought-through plans have huge holes that we can’t see.  When our critics point them out, we can’t pridefully ignore them.  Make a change.  That doesn’t mean that our plans cave every time someone speaks against us, but it means that every criticism is an opportunity to learn.  Don’t squander it.

 

Deconstructing Criticism: Receiving It

(We continue a week-long series of posts on the topic of criticism.  Get caught up here.)

There was a point in my life where I really enjoyed criticism.  It helped me know where I was hitting the mark and where I was missing it.  But once I felt like I had arrived…that I had learned all there was to know about life and ministry and by the way if you need me I’ll be sitting in the lotus position on a tall mountain with low-lying clouds and you’re going to need to crawl up on your hands and knees to ask me a question…then criticism began to be annoying.  The reason?  Because I pridefully thought that I was above criticism (get it?  Above criticism?  On a mountain?  Above criti…never mind.).

I’ve since come somewhat full circle, realizing the criticism can be healthy.  It can help me learn, and improve my life and ministry.  (I’ve also become a pretty hearty critic of pastors who have their negative e-mails filtered before they can read ‘em.)  But I’ve also learned that while criticism can be a valuable tool to use as a starting point for improvement, we need to strategically receive criticism.

In his book Simply Strategic Stuff, co-author Tim Stevens says that “answering every criticism and explaining every questioned action will wear you out…You need to filter your critics.”  Here are a few questions we should all ask in the filtering process:

1. Has my critic displayed a history of care for me? If I get one off-the-wall, out-of-right-field criticism from a complete stranger (“Hey ya moron!  Stop driving on the sidewalk!”), I tend to give it less weight than a criticism from someone who has invested in my life, served alongside me in ministry, and cares about me as a brother in Christ.
2. Can I do anything with this criticism? Since we’ve been at the Brier Creek Campus, I’ve had people tell me, “I don’t like the fact that we worship in a warehouse.”  I listen, nod affirmingly, tell them I’m so sorry they feel that way…and then I move on.  We’re in a warehouse. We don’t have a building with stained glass and a steeple.  Other churches do.  We don’t.  We probably never will.  And besides…until someone votes me a 6,299% raise (give or take 3%) I can’t do anything about it.
3. Does this criticism come from a legitimate concern? I recently fielded an e-mail from someone who attended our church and thought the font size on the screens were too small.  After drafting a lengthy e-mail acknowledging their concern, apologizing for the small font, and kindly suggesting they sit closer to the screen, the response was, “Oh, I don’t mean me!  I can see it just fine.  I just think that some people might think that the font is too small.”  (Hint: don’t be a crusader for the anonymous “they.”  Or at least if you decide to, don’t e-mail me about it and cause me to be concerned for no reason.)

Once you’ve filtered your criticism, you can then begin to look at it with an objective humility and process what to do with it.  That’s what we’ll cover tomorrow.

 

Deconstructing Criticism

If you’re afraid of criticism, you might not wanna be a pastor.  Pastors routinely wake up and go to their closet to put on their underoos that apparently say “Please please oh PLEASE criticize me today for the way I wear my shirt / the way I preach my sermon / the way I lead my church / the way I raise my kids / the books I read / the movies I watch / the movies I don’t watch / the movies that my third cousin who I’ve never even met watched one time but now he doesn’t because he converted to being Amish.”

Well actually, nobody ever could wear a pair of underoos like that unless (a) the print was really tiny or (b) their butt was really big.

Editor’s Note: You’re going to get criticized for that.

This week, we’re going to talk about the subject of criticism: what it is, how to deal with it, and how to deliver it.  Pastors aren’t the only ones who receive the joy of criticism; all of you have dealt with it from time to time.  Criticism doesn’t have to be bad.  It can be just the opposite (ummm…good).  Here are a few things that I’ve learned about criticism as we get started:

1. Criticism is certain. If you’re breathing, you’re eventually going to be criticized.  (Especially if your breathing turns to snoring and you keep your spouse awake.)  The trick is not avoiding criticism, but learning how to deal with it.
2. Criticism teaches us. We learn not only from the things that are true, but the things that are untrue.  In criticism we expose our folly and strengthen our wisdom.  Our responsibility is to discern which is which.
3. Criticism exposes our idols. Some of us have the idol of the kingdom of self.  Some the idol of the fear of man.  Some, perfectionism.  Some, procrastination.  Some, disorganization.  Whatever the idol, the criticism that is most likely to affect us is the kind that exposes the thing we’ve set up as god.

I have a general direction I’m heading this week, but if you have questions or comments about criticism, drop ‘em below so I can try to cover them.  All I ask is that you not criticize my topic of choice, because my butt ain’t as big as it used to be.

 

Get Lanny on Leno!

We interrupt our regularly scheduled Friday programming to bring you the social experiment of the decade.  And by “decade,” I mean today.  Or right at this very moment.  Whatever.

This is not the social experiment where I stand in the middle of Highway 70, pointing up at the sky, trying to get commuters to look and then wait for the ensuing 68 car pileup.  No, this is of much greater value than that, and believe it or not, even more entertaining.

My close, personal friend Lanny Donoho is trying to get on The Jay Leno Show.  Now, for those of you who have heard of Lanny, you are now convinced that I am blowing smoke that he’s a close, personal friend.  After, all, the “CPF” tag is what Unknown Christians always say about Professional Christians, such as Lanny.  But I’ve known this guy since I was a teenager and he was drawing his first Social Security check.  I have his cell number (not that he ever answers) and he has mine (which explains the late night crank calls).  We did a tour in ‘Nam together.  His oldest son’s name is Andrew and my name is Danny and the first three letters of each of our names are the same which means that he named his son after me.  And once I asked him, “Lanny, settle it once and for all: am I your close personal friend?”  And I can almost be positive that he said yes.  And now that he’s 122 years old, I want to help him gain a national audience.

Editor’s Note: Tell ‘em why you really want to help him.

Because I got a direct message from him on Twitter early Friday morning questioning my allegiance to our friendship because I haven’t stepped up to the plate on this social experiment thing and he also may or may not have said disparaging things about my mother.

If you don’t know Lanny, he’s a big deal in the world.  He’s the host of Catalyst, a big-deal gathering of thousands of leaders who get together annually to groom their goatees and compare fashion tips about shirts with embroidered dragons on them.  He’s founded a slew of organizations designed to bring relevance to the church, purpose to the lives of teenagers, and relief to other countries in the world.  And that last accomplishment is exactly the reason he wants to be on Leno.  Lanny is part of a couple of organizations called 143million.org and 410Bridge, which is changing the face of Africa and around the world.

Which brings us back to the social experiment.  At this very moment there are 13,000 people attending Catalyst in Atlanta, and Lanny has every last one of ‘em tweeting #lannyonleno.  The hope is that Leno’s people will take note of Thursday’s Twitter crash (coincidence?  I think not.) and bring Lanny on to the show, where he will display his collection of falcons and poisonous snakes.

Editor’s Note: I think you’re thinking of Jack Hanna.

Right you are.  Lanny will be telling a nationwide audience about how they can be involved in bringing hope to Africa, which I think is a pretty darn worthy goal.  So for the next 24 hours I’m going to participate in a hourly tweet-off, where I toss #lannyonleno into every last tweet.  If you’re a twit on Twitter, I need you to re-tweet those things, and make up your own, so that we can push #lannyonleno to a Twitter trend and get this guy on the show.  In return, I expect nothing except maybe for Lanny to tell people that I took a creative approach and they should follow me on Twitter and maybe invite me to fly to New York with him and perhaps take back some of the mean and nasty comments he may or may not have made.

So that’s it.  Check out Lanny’s site and subscribe to his feed, and enjoy the next 24 hours.  If you need me, I’ll be on Highway 70 pointing at the sky.

 

When “Yes” Leads To “No”

In a church our size, there are plenty of opportunities to do plenty of things.  Big things.  Small things.  Expensive things.  Free things.  Hard things.  Easy things.  Things, things, and more things…

“Would you partner with our ministry to dig wells in East Africa?”

“Can we pass out brochures for the upcoming volunteer fire department fundraiser?”

“I want to start a ministry for left handed, hazel eyed Libertarians.  Get me started.”

Because of our size, it’s easy to assume we should say “yes” to as many things as possible.  After all, we believe in African wells and volunteer firemen, and lefty Libbies are probably good folk.  But one thing I’ve learned is that too many “yeses” will always lead to “no.”

When the scope of our ministry is unclear, people will be leery to commit.

When the menu of choices is too broad, people simply won’t choose.

When the goals aren’t clearly defined and the “win” is hard to spot, people will get frustrated and jump ship.

For that reason, we’ve said that our purpose is to Love God, Love Each Other, and Love Our World. If a ministry or idea or program can fit under that umbrella, then we’ll likely say “yes.”  But if it muddies the picture…if it clouds the vision…then a “no” is the only reasonable answer we can give.

What are some of your “yeses” that should’ve been a “no”?

 

Nothing To Say

Believe it or not, the title of this post has nothing to do with my 120 hour absence of late.  Although many would argue that even when I say something, I’m not saying anything, this “nothing to say” stems from a great quote I read a couple of weeks ago from Mother Teresa:

“People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.”

Many times in ministry – and in life – we’re struck speechless.  Maybe you’re walking alongside a couple who just lost a baby or a lady whose cancer diagnosis is terminal or a man whose wife has suddenly abandoned the family.  In those times, words can be irrelevant, but they’re the things we feel like are our biggest contribution.  And when words don’t come, our sense of insufficiency causes us to miss the greater opportunity.

I remember my mother in law telling me about the circumstances surrounding the death of her parents.  She said that while she remembers little of what friends said, she definitely remembers that they were present.  The lesson?  Words don’t talk.  Presence does.

Somewhere today, someone in your life needs your presence.  They don’t need your words, your wisdom, or your eloquence.  They just need you to be there.  Don’t ignore the opportunity because you have nothing to say, for in doing so you’ll say more than you intended.

 

FI Fridays: Always On

Every Friday this fall, I’m doing a series titled “First Impressions Fridays.”  These posts are specifically designed for the First Impressions Teams at all of our campuses, but hey, read it anyway.  You might learn something useful.

As a member of the First Impressions Team, you’re always on.

Our guests are always arriving (they can’t figure out when the heck our services start, nor does it really seem to matter), so you’re always on.  You’ve always got to be ready for their arrival.  You’ve got to be prepared to offer help.  You’ve got to have your smile on and your brain engaged.

“Always on” means that during your 90 or 100 minutes of service, you’re fully committed.  It means you’re actively standing.  It means you’re on the lookout.  It means you carry the attitude of “How can I help?” rather than “When is this over?”

“Always on” signifies that you’re on the clock.  You’re not on your phone.  You’re not hiding in the bathroom.  You’re not sitting on the curb, reading a book, and barely looking up as you point late arrivals to back-of-building parking.

Our guests are always arriving.  They are always in need.  So you’re always on.

 

Makes (No) Sense to Me!

On the way to school this morning, my boys and I were talking about the news that General Motors will shut down it’s Saturn line later this year.  I was explaining the impact this would have on many friends and even some family members back home in Middle Tennessee (home to Saturn’s manufacturing plant).  Here’s how the rest of the conversation went down with my 12 year old:

Austin: So why are they shutting it down?

Me: Well buddy, my thoughts would be that they weren’t making the money they needed to off of that particular brand [insert three minute lesson on supply and demand here].  So, they are just going to stop making the car.

Austin: Man, WHAT is going on with this economy?  First it’s Saturn, and then the phone companies are buying each other, and Tony Stewart doesn’t drive for Home Depot anymore!

Ummm…yeah.  That’s the natural progression I made, as well.  But this kid is in the gifted program, so somewhere in that genius brain I’m sure it made sense.

Any of you care to connect the dots?