A Short Story

Sitting at Concourse C at O’Hare international airport, I was exhausted. It was a deeper exhaustion than simply being physically tired. No, this was the soul exhaustion one feels when he realizes he’s put in decades of work without seeing the results he believed would come. This was not exhaustion of the body; it was exhaustion of the soul. 

I went to the conference in Chicago hoping it would give me some energy. It used to, when I was a young pastor, new in ministry. Spending a few days with other co-laborers in the work of Christ was invigorating back then. I would listen to the well-known conference speakers and dream about what God could do through me and my ministry. I would drink coffee with other pastors, listen to their stories and then share how God was blessing my church. I would walk past the book vendors and peruse the beautiful stacks. Each title held a promise of making me better: a better preacher, a better leader, a better shepherd, a better man. 

That was then. But this time, the books no longer held the excitement they once did. I’ve read hundreds of titles, made many changes and adjustments, only to remain mediocre at best. The coffees with my fellow pastors were not nearly as exciting, as their stories now only reminded me just how much more God had blessed their ministries than He had mine. Even listening to the “successful” conference speaker was only a reminder of how inadequate my gifts were. 

Needing a distraction, I engaged in people watching, one of my favorite activities. I have read too many Sherlock Holmes stories and I longed to apply his deductive skills to see if I could figure out the lives that surrounded me. What book was she reading and why? Why can’t that guy close out of Excel for a few moments and relax a bit? What were the demands that pressed him to work so hard?

But it was the young couple sitting directly across from me that caught my attention the most. I first noticed the Paul Simon t-shirt he was wearing. His mama had obviously raised him right. But looking closer, their marital disunity was obvious. She had been crying, her mascara broken and her eyes red and swollen. He hadn’t said a word to her and refused to even look at her, though she glanced his way several times. They probably were in their thirties and married to one another. I mean, why else would you sit side by side in an airport terminal with matching luggage? Dating couples don’t have matching luggage. Eat you heart out, Sherlock.

I was trying not to stare, so I took out one of the books I had purchased at the conference and held it in a position that hid occasional glances their way. Yes, I bought a book at the conference. Some habits die hard. 

His phone kept his attention, though he would let out a sigh from time to time. Each time he did, she would shake her head a bit. I knew this game. I had been married for over thirty years. This was the “I’m reminding you that I’m still mad at you with each sigh” and “I don’t think you get me at all” game. Non-verbal, but voicing deep hurt. 

“Ladies and Gentleman, we will now begin the boarding for Flight 145 heading for Des Moines. Any Executive Platinum members may approach the gate as well as any active military personnel or those needing assistance to board the plane.” 

I glanced down at my ticket to see “Group 8” which meant I was going to be one of the last people to board. It’s funny how even Group 8 people will get up and start heading toward the gate when boarding is first announced. Everyone with a ticket is going to board this plane, people. What was it about the human soul that felt the need to push ahead of others to be sure they got their seat, even when their seat was guaranteed?

I resisted the urge and sat in place. So did the fighting couple. Veteran fliers, I see. 

He let out another sigh. She glanced, and turned away as his gaze stayed fixed on his phone. 

This seemed like more than just a minor argument. Considering the looks on their faces and the way they used their body language to communicate their hurt to one another, I would bet my fictional detective badge that this was a major fight. This was deep. And as the call for Groups 5-6 came, I said a little prayer. “Lord, help them.” But it was time for me to get up now, losing any hope that my carryon was actually going to make it in the overhead bin.

After the stewardess wrapped the little white tag around the handle of my Samsonite and assured me it would make it safely to baggage claim in Des Moines, I found my seat. 14B. The middle seat. Yeah. I was just settling in when the thirty-something couple appeared and apologetically told me that they were sitting in 14A and 14C. Ok. So my wish of having the entire row to myself had just been dashed, but at least it would be a quiet flight. I mean, these two didn’t seem to be on talking terms!

Putting on my headphones, I had a pang of guilt. Does donning my over-ears signal to my fellow passengers that I was not interested in making small talk? Do I pull out my laptop and get a few more words written for Sunday’s sermon, leaving my headphones off in case one of them wanted to engage me in conversation? Or, do I take the plunge and introduce myself? Who knows where the conversation could lead? And I had prayed to ask God to help them. Was He planning on using me? Could I still be used? 

“My name is Alan,” I heard my probably-more-optimistic-than-realistic self saying.
“I’m Derek and this is Mary.” 

“Oh. My wife’s name is Mary!”

“How long have you been married?,” she asked, her mouth smiling, but her eyes still carrying the weight of their marital issues. 

“Thirty-three years this June!”, I replied. Then I added, “Hey, I can switch one of you seats if you would like to sit next to one another.” 

“No” they both said at the same time as a silence fell over the three of us. 

I pulled out my phone and texted my Mary.

“Wheels up in Chicago!”

The moving dots on the bottom of the screen that appeared immediately told me she was already typing a reply. She had been waiting for my text. Man, I couldn’t wait to see her. 

“Can’t wait to see you” she texted. I smiled to myself at the uni-mind that 33 years of togetherness had brought. I followed it up with a kissy-face emoji. 

“Gonna kiss your pretty face!” I shot back. She replied with two heart-eye emojis. 

“How long have you two been married?” I asked glancing at her then over to him. 

“Seven years,” Mary replied letting Derek off the hook. 

Putting my phone in airplane mode, I asked the question that would almost always begin my marriage counseling sessions, “So, how did you two meet?”

Seven years is a common hard spot for couples. After bearing a couple of kids, she no longer had the figure of a young bride. And if the problem with her was how much she changed, the problem with him is that he hadn’t changed enough. The flaws she hoped to fix in him had probably only worsened over the years. And now the giddy love had been replaced with frustrated irritation and, well, they weren’t getting any younger. If it was going to end, better now than later when more years would take their toll and make finding someone else that much harder.  But I knew that if they could hang on for a bit longer and learn what love really means, they would be past the hurdle and would move on to the deeply satisfying relationship that I enjoyed with my Mary. 

“College.” Derek answered my earlier question without looking up from his phone. I wanted to take it from him and ground him from picking it up for a week. Seriously, dude, you are never going to find what you looking for scrolling through Facebook! 

“So…College?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Mary said. “His last name is Josette and my maiden name was Jones, so we were always in line together during Freshman orientation. By the end of the week, Derek asked for my number.”

“What was it about Mary that attracted you, Derek?”

His eyes finally came off his phone as he fixed a skeptical look at me. I mean, who in the world asks that kind of a question of a complete stranger on a plane? An old pastor trying to save your freaking marriage, Derek, now answer the question! You’ve forgotten and you need to remember. You think someone else out there is better, but you need to remember how Mary made you feel when your love was new. 

Another sigh, then, to my surprise, he answered the question. 

“I don’t know. She was super pretty, nice to me, outgoing, and I just liked being with her.” That’s it, sigh-boy, let’s keep walking down this lane a bit. 

“What was it about Derek that made you go out with him?” I asked Mary. 

She thought for a second. “He had the tall, dark and handsome thing going for him for sure. And he was really interested me. He loved to listen to me talk and we spent hours just sharing our hopes and our dreams.” 

Another sigh from Derek. Somewhere along the way, this kid needs to learn to how to communicate with actual words. She was communicating. She was saying loud and clear, “Derek, you don’t pay attention to me anymore like you did when we first met. You’re always on that phone and you find everyone else so interesting, but you hardly say a word to me. What happened?” He knew that’s what she was saying and what was his amazing, loving response? A sigh. That spoke too:  “I’m tired of this. I don’t want to be nagged anymore. I’m done talking.” 

“Cabin, prepare for take off,” the pilot said in a clipped, I’ve-done-this-a-million-times manner. Somehow I had missed the whole safety demonstration from the stewardesses. How would I ever find that flotation device if I needed it? The good news was there was very little water between Chicago and Des Moines, so if we crashed no flotation device would be needed. We would all be goners. 

I settled back in my seat as the plane accelerated to take off speed and rose slowly from the tarmac. This was a quick flight. If I was going to help them, I couldn’t beat around the bush. So once the plane reached altitude, I started back in.

“Yeah, I remember when my Mary and I were first dating. We met in college too, though she made the first move. I mean, who could blame her?” I gave them a little grin which was met with what might have been the beginnings of a smile from Mary. 

“When the love was fresh and new, it was exciting and fun! We loved to talk too and would spend hours on the phone. And back then, the phones were still attached to the walls. Those were amazing days. The problem is, the feeling fades after a time, doesn’t it?”

I let conversation lull a bit. I wanted to let the shock of that admission have its full effect. 

After a few beats Mary asked, “How long did you say you’ve been married?”

“Thirty-three years.” 

“When did your love fade?” I could see some tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes.  Derek’s phone had remained untouched for the last couple of minutes now. Was that a record for him?

“That’s not what I said. Not exactly. I said the feeling fades, but that doesn’t mean the love has to.” 

That one needed to sit a bit too. 

“I don’t get it” Mary said. 

“There’s a whole lot of people confused about love. What we’ve been told since we were young and someone read us the fairy tales is that love is this mushy feeling you get about someone else. But, as nice as that is, that’s attraction, not love. Love is so much deeper. Love is feeling, yes, but it’s so much more. It’s action. It’s sacrifice. It’s choosing to stick with someone through it all, regardless of how you feel at times. I love my Mary, but I haven’t always felt warm and fuzzy about her. Now, if you ever told her that, I would deny it!”

Another little smile came from Mary. 

Looking at Derek I said, “And here’s the deal. It’s the same cycle over and over with everyone. The feelings are great for a season, but then real life sets in and your princess’s flaws begin to show, and the feeling fades. Moving on to someone else, hoping for that feeling again, is simply building a fake castle on sinking sand. And what do you have to destroy to get that new castle? Too many people end up looking around years later seeing all the destruction and wish they could go back.”

His incredulous stare had turned into a serious, contemplative gaze.

“You like Paul Simon?” The question shocked him back into reality a bit. 

“Um…yeah. Love him.” 

“Me too. I love the song “Train in the Distance.”  Do you know it?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied. 

“Do you remember how the song ends? “What is the point of this story? What information pertains? The thought that life could be better is woven indelibly into our hearts and our brains.”” I actually sang the lyric…or something that was supposed to pass for singing. 

“Good tune,” Derek said. 

“Important message,” I smiled back. 

The rest of the short flight was quiet. I eventually did put on my head phones and pretended to work. What I was actually doing was praying. “God, I have no idea why I said what I said. Did I have any impact at all? I know I’m not much, Lord, but if you would use what I said to help restore this marriage, then, that’s enough. Use, me God. Show me that you can still use me.” 

“We are about thirty minutes from Des Moines and we’ll be starting our decent. Please be sure you are seated with your seatbelts on and that your trays are in their upright and locked positions,” the bored stewardess murmured over the intercom. 

“Do you want to get the Uber or shall I?” Mary asked Derek. 

“Go ahead,” He responded. 

“If want to save a nickel, I can give you a ride home.” The offer was out of my mouth before I could stop it. 

“Oh, that’s kind, but you…”

“That would be great.” Mary cut Derek off mid-sentence. 

“Yeah…great. Thanks,” Derek said quietly. 

Mary and I made some more small talk as we deplaned and headed to baggage claim. I learned they had two kids, both girls. Derek remained silent as we got our bags, found my car, and headed toward Clive, where they lived. Once again, there was a small sigh from Derek, and he took his phone out. This was the first time he had retrieved it since I started my unsolicited counseling session with them back on American Airline ERJ-145. His motions now were quick and decisive and the phone was quickly back in his pocket again. Pulling up the address they had given me, I put the car in park and was about to say my good byes when Derek grabbed Mary’s hand. I could see tears in his eyes. 

“I deleted it. I’m not going to send it to her. And…I’m so sorry.”

Mary stared down at the floorboard for what seemed like an hour, but was really only several seconds.Nodding her head, she turned to look over at Derek. Then she smiled. “It’s Ok. We’ll work it out,” she said. Then she reached out and wiped a tear that had formed in his eye. Along with that tear, she also wiped away a small part of his shame. 

“Look, guys,” I broke in, my heart feeling the excitement of the moment. “I know I was pretty pushy back on the plane. I’m not normally like that, believe it or not. But for what it’s worth…”

I reached into my coat pocket and handed them my card. I’ve handed so many cards out to have so little result. What possessed me to try again can only be credited to the Holy Spirit. Heck, this whole crazy evening was obviously Him at work.

“You’re a pastor. Huh,” Derek said. “Your church isn’t that far away.” 

“No” I said. “I would love to see you there sometime.” 

Mary reached up and touched my shoulder. 

“Thank you, Pastor,” she said, then opened the door. Derek got out and moved to the trunk to pick up their matching luggage. 

As I drove away that night, I had no idea if I would see them again. Then the next Sunday, to my utter surprise, Mary, Derek, and their two girls came to church. My Mary and I took them out to lunch. They came back again the next week and the week after that. During one of our after church lunches a few weeks later, both Derek and Mary accepted Christ. A few years later, both their girls did as well. I baptized them all. 

Whenever I start to feel that ministry exhaustion again, I think of their family. This is what ministry is about. Successful ministry has very little to do with the number of people who come to your church on a Sunday morning. It has everything to do with being faithful to the message God had given you and taking the opportunities when they come. If I pastored a mega church, if my schedule was packed from giving key note conference messages, if I had dozens of stacks of books with my name on them, it would not have made my relationship with Derek, Mary, and their sweet family any better. God used me to impact them that night on the plane. He has used me since to impact others as well. Not thousands, but isn’t even one enough? God taught me a vital lesson that night. It’s not about me and will never be about me. It’s about Him. It’s about helping others discover the miracles He can work not only in a failing marriage but more importantly the miracles He can work to save my sinful heart. I still forget on Sundays when the attendance isn’t what I want it to be. But looking out and seeing Derek sitting with his arm around Mary, Bibles in their laps, the Holy Spirit reminds me. “God has used you for His glory. And He is so very, very good.”

From Love to Cherish: Becoming God’s Kind of Husband

This article was originally published on the Great Commission Collective’s website. Check out http://www.gccollective.org.

We were sitting in a hotel conference room in the Florida Keys when I was eviscerated by a Caribbean pastor. The room was filled with the senior pastors of the Great Commission Collective during our annual Pastor’s and Wive’s Retreat. The wives had been excused as they attended a workshop pointed at issues unique to their role, and the men gathered to be challenged. Kenyata Lewis, a brother who pastors in the Turks and Caicos region of the Caribbean, stood behind the pulpit. In his easy to listen to gentle accent, he was cutting me to shreds as he talked about cherishing our wives.

I loved Courtney and took every opportunity to remind her of that as often as I could. I felt I had to because, despite all of my efforts to show otherwise, she still felt unloved. In our regular conversation I would remind her of all things I do for her:  “I get up early every morning to make sure you wake up to a clean house and a fresh pot of coffee!” 

“I know. Thank you.”

“I text you through the day to check in and see how you are doing.” 

“Yes. Again, thank you.” 

“We talk, often. I watch your shows, I rub your feet. I’m trying so hard to show you I love you.” 

“Yes, you do all those things.”

“Then what’s the problem??”

“I don’t know. I just feel so lonely still.”

So when my Caribbean brother, in a gentle, sweet tone said, “You will know when you have cherished her when she feels filled up with your love,” I felt his words slice me open to my core.  His words were teaching me that I don’t determine when she has been loved well. She does. And at that point in time in particular she was NOT feeling loved. Then, like a verbal samurai, he cut even deeper with “Loving her and cherishing her are NOT the same.”

Though cutting, the words were revelatory. It’s a simple statement, but the truth of it and the impact it brought were life-changing. I was loving her, but I was not cherishing her. And she felt it. This had to change and it had to change now. 

That retreat was the beginning of a journey that I am still on today. I’m not there yet. I take steps ahead, get sidetracked, or flat-out trip and fall on my face. But, by God’s grace, I’m trying to still walk ahead. I have much to learn still, but one truth is inescapable: I am the biggest obstacle on the pathway to cherishing my wife. I get in the way in two key areas: self-worship and self-love.

Self-worship

Attitude trumps action. Why we do something is more important than what we do. It’s very easy to fool ourselves into believing we’re in the right simply because we are doing the right things. When I was loving Courtney, was I really loving her or was I loving myself? The honest answer to the question is convicting. When you are sliced to the core, the deeper parts of you are exposed. It’s painful and ugly. In my case, it revealed that the motivation for many of my actions was to be seen as a good husband. I wanted her to see it. I wanted my elders to see it. I wanted my church to see it. Once cut to the gross, ugly core, my motivation for loving my wife was revealed to be an attempt to get more adoration for myself. No wonder she never felt cherished.

That needed to be confessed and repented of. Then, a new direction needed to take its place. My love needed to be founded on my desire to obey and glorify God, as well as a genuine cherishing of this precious gift of a wife that I have been given by God.

It was painful to see that, but it wasn’t the end. The gentle yet cutting words of my Caribbean friend were used by the Holy Spirit to expose even more ugliness.

Self-Love

My lack of loving Courtney was directly tied to my over abundance of loving myself. Sure, I was doing a lot of things to “show” my love to her, but they were things that were very convenient for me in my own timeline. I’m a morning person, so getting up early is no problem. Straightening up the house and cleaning the kitchen before she woke up was not a great sacrifice. 

What I didn’t want to do (and still struggle to do) is give up more precious “me time.” Days off have always been a battle. That was my time to do what I wanted to do. I resented her honey-do list and the household chores that needed to be done. Though I would often give in to the selection of shows we watched, I resented not being able to enjoy what I wanted. I would hold onto this resentment until it became an effective weapon. “We always watch your shows and I never get a watch mine.“ Honest evaluation of all of this showed me that, once again, in my heart I was truly more focused on myself than I ever was focused on her. How could any woman feel cherished with a husband like that?

God’s grace is amazing and my wife’s grace is far beyond what I deserve. He has forgiven me and continues to do so. My wife continues to show me patience and love as I stumble along. I’m thankful for the painful cutting that exposed a wicked heart. I’m grateful for my dear brother who was faithful to teach God’s word and be willing to slice me open. And I’m hopeful that as I journey along, my beautiful wife will feel more and more cherished by ME as I live in the cherishing, forgiving love of my God!

The Hidden Pride of the Small Church Pastor

This post is comprised of two articles originally written for the Great Commission Collective. Check them out at http://www.gccollective.com

Part 1 – The Story

Ryan sat at his desk staring at the screen. It was Monday and he was bone tired after a full day of ministry the day before. As he gazed at his calendar, it was hard to even think about starting another week. He had put so much effort into last week, and for what? The church was just as full as it had been for months with no noticeable growth. He had preached his heart out, but had no idea how much it impacted people. And now he was supposed to start all over again? Another week, another message and more meetings? That felt like a lot of effort only to get the same result week after week.

Sipping his coffee, he was having a hard time getting his head around it all. How could other churches in his city be growing while his felt stagnant? He had seen the online services from the “other guys.” They all looked the same and they all preached shallow messages. He knew that he was doing it right, delivering exegetical sermons with passion after hours of study. His worship team was great and he knew they were truly focused on God’s glory, not their own! Why would God allow other churches to grow while this, Christ-exalting, God-glorifying church was faltering?

Ryan remembered his first years in ministry. He had such excitement and hope back then. He was convinced that God was going to do big things through him and his church was going to win this city for God’s glory! He had been well-trained and many people had affirmed his gifts. He knew what he brought to the table and others did too. But that was 15-years-ago and though the church had gone through a few exciting seasons, they were roughly in the same spot now that they were he started. Just different faces and names as the inevitable parade of people marched in, then out of his church.

Sitting there thinking through these things, his heart was heavy. This was not the dream. This was not what he thought it would be. Maybe he should quit. But then what? What else would he do? He went right from college, to seminary, to church positions that eventually lead him here. All the skills he acquired were in ministry so how could he possibly find work outside of the church? What was he going to do, sell cars? And even if he did leave, he would have to start at the bottom and there’s no way he would make enough to support his family. No, the cold hard reality was, Ryan was stuck.

Drinking down the last dregs of his now lukewarm brew, Ryan tried to find some motivation. Scrolling down Facebook only brought more frustration. So he shot a text to his wife, but her quick to-the-point answer told him that she was busy with the kids. With no small amount of weariness, Ryan picked up his Bible and read the text that was on the docket for this Sunday. Wow. It was a good one. He knew he could really fire up a passionate message from these verse. And who knows? Maybe this Sunday there would be some new visitors who would hear this sermon and be impacted by God’s word. Maybe they would tell their friends who would also come and get excited about the church. Maybe this Sunday was the Sunday that brought the change. Maybe.

Ok, Ryan said to himself. Let’s do this again.
——————-
I’ve been in ministry for more than 20 years, nearly all of which has been spent in smaller churches. Though Ryan may be a bit hyperbolic, I can relate deeply with the cycle of discouragement he is experiencing. But more than that, I know the deeper heart issues he is facing and where his discouragement can lead. The reality is, unless Ryan’s heart and perspective changes, he is headed for a ministry crash.

We have all seen the headlines of the mega-church pastor who fails in mega-ways. We’ve seen the sexual misconduct, embezzling of church funds, and monster-pride that tears people apart. That pride is obvious. But for the small church pastor there is a pride that is much harder to see. Over the course of a couple of articles, I hope to use the hard learned lessons God has taught me to encourage you. There IS amazing joy and fulfillment for the faithful small church pastor. But it all hinges on one truth that we KNOW but have a hard time convincing our sinful hearts to believe; Jesus is enough. Period. More to come!

Part 2 – The Sin

Ihave been Ryan. I have felt deeply discouraged in ministry. I have contemplated quitting. In fact, I nearly did. God, in His grace, brought me through that forest of discouragement to a better place. ut it was a painful realization of deep, subtle pride.

Looking back at Ryan’s story, there are several lies his pride has led him to believe.

“I’m more gifted than numbers indicate.”
I’ll never forget when Bob Smith (his name has been changed) joined my little church. In the ’80s, Pastor Bob was one of the most successful pastors in the country. Someone actually wrote a book about the church growth he experienced. Many people in my church had been a part of his church in its heyday. Bob, now retired, had come to a service, loved what he saw, and decided he wanted to be a part of the church. When Bob was filling the pulpit for me one Sunday, he said, “Jamie’s preaching is second to no one in our city.” I was in my early 30’s and Bob’s assessment only confirmed what I believed deep in my heart. I was something special. I was uniquely gifted. Finally, someone had noticed!

Bob’s approval only lasted so long. My church did not grow like Bob’s church. We were healthy but remained below 150 in attendance for the two years Bob attended. My heart broke when Bob told me that he had decided to move on. Though it was never said outright, I knew Bob was disappointed. I was crushed. I thought I was special. I thought my gifted preaching was going to pack out the church. But now Bob, it seemed, had changed his mind about me.

We want to be seen as gifted. We long to be something special. And yet, God has told us numeric success in ministry has nothing to do with us at all! Let this familiar verse sink deeper into your understanding; “So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth” (1 Cor. 3:7). He who plants is nothing. He who waters is nothing. Nothing, pastor. The need to be gifted is rooted in a desire to take what belongs to God and God alone. It’s a desire for glory. Is there a greater pride than one who seeks to steal God’s glory? The truth is the very thing that qualifies us to be used for God’s glory is our weaknesses, not our strengths! “For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Cor. 1:16-29).

Pastor, you don’t need to be gifted. You need to be reliant. It’s your weakness, not your strength, that draws you to the God you need the most!

“I’m doing this better than the other guys.”
There should be joy in exegetical preaching. There should excitement as we anticipate God using His word in the lives of His people. But there should never be pride. When we begin to pridefully compare what we do with what others are doing, we are stepping into dangerous territory.

Again, let’s allow Scripture to guide us: “But when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding” (2 Cor. 10:12b).

This lie may be rooted in a misunderstanding of Scripture. Isaiah 55 says that God’s word would not return void, but would accomplish its divine purpose. But that purpose is also revealed in the text: “Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall make a name for the Lord, an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off” (Is. 55:13). The promise is that individual lives would be changed. God will take the barren bush and make it a fruitful tree. This will result in the worship of God (Is. 55:12). There is no promise about the number of lives that will be changed. How many people need to be impacted by your preaching for you to know God is using you? Is one enough? I guarantee that if you are preaching God’s word, lives will be changed. And that’s enough.

“I need numeric success to feel significant.”
This is the underlying lie driving all the other lies. Even though you “know” this is not true, the belief of the lie may have already strongly intertwined into your heart. Let me remind you again of where true significance is really found. You are a child of God. You have been chosen by God before the foundation of the world to be his. Further, He has called you to shepherd and to love his people. His calling, both for your salvation and for your ministry, gives you all the significance you need. You need nothing more to happen to find complete satisfaction in Christ! Rest in that. Rejoice in that. Refuse the prideful lies, and enjoy your ministry.

Piper on the Religion of Self Love

In my studies I will often come across material that I am eager to share. Sometimes this material, though fantastic, simply has no place in my sermon. That happened to me this week as I was listening to a John Piper message on 1 Pet. 3:13-17. In it he described the religion of self love and clearly demonstrated why its so dangerous. What’s astonishing is that the sermon was delivered in September of 1994…26 years ago!

Self love IS the religion of our day. 26 years ago, Piper called it the greatest threat to Christianity in America. If it was true then…

I have mentioned several times from the pulpit that self-love is finding it’s way into the church. Christian, women authors are making big money as they mix Jesus with affirmations of self worth. In her book “Girl, Wash Your Face,” Rachael Hollis says,

“I studied the gospel and finally grasped the divine knowledge that I was loved and worthy and enough…as I am.”

The problem is the very POINT of the gospel is that we NOT worthy and we are NOT enough as we are. It’s true that we are loved, but that’s why Jesus died; He was enough for us when we were not enough by ourselves. The more we believe we are enough, the less we will feel the need for Jesus. And when we rely more on ourselves than on Him, we are on the road to massive failure since we are not able to save ourselves, even a little.

Piper does a magnificent job of describing the religion and revealing its DANGER.

Take 3 minutes to listen to this clip. Give me some comments below. And then, let’s pray for those in desperate need to letting go of self to embrace Jesus!

If you want to hear the entire sermon, it can be found here.

Election Year and Entertaining Fear.

If you have been to church even a little, you probably know that fear and worry is a sin. You have heard a teacher or preacher tell you that the most often repeated command in the Bible is “Do not fear!” “In fact,” they said, “it’s in there at least 365 times, one for every day of the year!” How clever.

Knowing truth is one thing. Living truth is another. 

If you struggle with fear and worry, 2020 is certainly not your year. 2020 is to the worrier what a cheap liquor store must be to an alcoholic. There are temptations on every shelf and it’s so easy to pick up and consume! But at least Johnny Alchy can avoid going into the liquor store! The worrier knows that he/she doesn’t have to seek out reasons to worry, they are lurking around every social media corner!

Let’s have a little self intervention, shall we? Let’s take a moment to throw all our empty bottles of despair and over-thinking on the living room floor to see just how big the problem has gotten. (We need some honest shock here.) But more than that, lets’ do the hard work of asking why. If we KNOW we shouldn’t fear, but we fear anyway, what are we doing that makes this temptation so hard to fight? What life patterns need to change so we’ll quit sipping on that bottle? As we sober up a bit and take that hard look, I think a few common factors will emerge.

The Gospel GAP

No addict conquered his addiction while in denial. Unless we admit to our problem, we’ll remain living in fear. For all of us, there is, as Paul Tripp puts it, a GOSPEL GAP; a chasm between what we PROFESS to know and how we actually FUNCTION in life. Tripp says, “Most of us understand how to gospel impacts our past and our future. Few of us connect how the gospel affects us today. That is the “gospel gap.””

This is the source of our problem. This is also the answer. When we see the latest headline and we allow ourselves to take that step onto the slippery slope of fear, we are forgetting some vital truths. Truths like, “the world is a sin cursed place and that’s why Jesus came.” Truths like, “Jesus died so that the world through Him might be saved.” Truths like, “He is going to reconcile the world back to Himself (See Colossians 1) and no matter how BAD it gets today, Jesus wins in the end. Period. And since, through faith, I am HIS, that means I win too.”

In order to start the recovery process, let’s all admit the problem is our gap; our forgetfulness. Jesus has already taken care of my biggest and scariest problem; my own sin! And nothing will stop Him from caring for me now.

Lingering doubt.

When I was in high-school, I had a bad acne problem. This was not the run-of-the mill, you-wrecked-my-class-picture acne most kids faced. My version was the deep, cystic acne that, judging from the ways girls treated me, is somehow linked to the leprosy of Bible times. From the 9th grade all the way through graduation, these deep red blotches wrecked my face and it wasn’t until after I graduated from Army basic training that manhood finally conquered adolescence and all but destroyed the enemy of my love-life. The more time as passed, the more that ailment fades into nothing but memory. But not entirely. From time to time, zits still show up in my life. Though nothing like they were, the problem still lingers,  at least at some level.

Doubt is the acne of the soul. As pimples wreck a teenagers attraction levels, doubt wrecks our moving toward God. As we grow and learn more about His love and sovereign care, the problems lessens. But doubt seems to refuse to die entirely. And in times like ones we are facing now, we may feel like that pimple-ridden, splotchy-faced teenager again.

So how DO you kill doubt? It takes two simply ingredients: God’s word and time.

“So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”
-Rom. 10:17

God’s answer for doubt is to hear Him speak. Faith COMES from hearing and what we need to be listening to is the WORD. You knew it was coming; the same “Sunday School” answer you’ve heard all your life. You need to read your Bible more! As familiar as this advice is, there’s simply no getting around the need for it. It IS the answer to doubt. But the lessons of God do not saturate the soul over night. It takes time for them to sink into your bones. So, let’s be patient with our selves, but let’s make a simple commitment; before we open FaceBook, let’s open the Bible. Everyday. For a long time. Faith will grow and doubt will keep dying.Which brings us to another life change for our worry-addiction problem…

Bad diet

It’s clear what we need to consume MORE, but let’s talk a bit more about what we need to consume LESS. The old saying goes, “You are what you eat” and the meal our world is offering us today is one PACKED with fear. Every headline, every click-bait title, every tweet on tweeter seems to give us another reason we need to be afraid. I am left with little doubt that the very intention of the world’s media is to induce fear. So, let’s stop eating that garbage. Like a middle-aged man trying to fight the battle of the bulge (trust, I know) let’s skip the garbage for a bit and only eat what is good and healthy.

I’m currently trying to lose some fat again (I hate the roller coaster of the middle aged spare tire, to be honest with you). Once again, I’m counting my calories, so every bite that passes my lips get recorded in the My Fitness Pal app. Getting stared on this practice again, I am a bit surprised at just how many calories I can put in my body on any given day. Drink one Mt. Dew and that’s like a gazzillion of them! That’s why recording them is vital. When we aren’t paying attention, we consume too much of the bad stuff. What if we did the same thing with our social media consumption? Try it for a day. Recored every time you open it up and scroll through it. Record how LONG you spend scrolling. More than likely you will be SHOCKED on the amount of fear calories you are ingesting. And we will all probably agree, it’s time a diet from fear. 

The End

I’m going to vote. Someone is going to win the election, and I care about the outcome. But six months from now, no matter WHO is president of the US, I am going to settle my heart on this truth; JESUS IS KING. So, keep your bottle of intoxicating anxiety, world. I’m going to chose to live right here right now as a child of King Jesus, and that means I can trust Him NO MATTER WHAT. 

How to Listen to a Sermon

That title may seem odd to some. How hard is it to listen to a sermon? Do I really need to read an article about how to do that better? I just show up and listen, right?

Step back and consider the preaching moment. You will be sitting under the proclamation of God’s Word which is the God-appointed method for your growth and change (Is. 53; 2 Tim. 4:1-5). Your pastor has spent hours of study to prepare a message he believes you need. This is a serious and important moment in your week. It is right to give time and effort to prepare to listen well. Here’s how…

Intentional Preparation

The real preparation for listening comes before you step into the church. Dr. Dr. Philip G. Ryken, President of Wheaton College, writes

The soul needs special preparation the night before worship. By Saturday evening our thoughts should begin turning towards the Lord’s Day. If possible, we should read through the Bible passage that is scheduled for preaching. We should also be sure to get enough sleep. Then in the morning our first prayers should be directed to public worship, and especially to the preaching of God’s Word.

“How to Listen to a Sermon” from Reformation 21, January 2002

After waking up rested and ready on Sunday morning, grab your Bible, a notebook or journal, and a pen. You may even want to get a special journal just for your sermon notes.

Then…pray. Ask God to prepare your heart and remove distractions so that you can grow this week. Spiritual growth is a super natural work and God will hear that prayer and answer it in surprising ways.

Active Listening

Before you sit down, make sure to remove any possible distractions. Turn your phone off. Take off your AppleWatch, or whatever else might “ping” you during the sermon. Go to the bathroom. Be ready to listen.

As the pastor preaches, take notes. Here are some suggestions of things to write down.
Sermon Outline. At Redemption, our preachers are trained to build their outlines from the text. They have crafted this particular outline to make the text more accessible and applicable to you. Writing down the outline will help you see the over all flow of the message and it will give the main points to seek to apply to your life.
Cross references. Preachers are also striving to show you how the Bible fits together as a whole. Write down the other verses he quotes as that will help you see how those passages fit with the focus text.
Application questions. The preachers of Redemption will often craft applications questions to help you apply God’s truth. Though there may be too many write down quickly, try to write down one or two that hit you personally.
Impressions from the Spirit. As the preacher is unpacking the Word of God, the Holy Spirit is at work illumining hearts to understand. As the Spirit opens the eyes your heart at certain points, make notes of those lessons. These are probably the most important notes you will take that day.

Careful Application

Now that the sermon is done, the real work begins. It’s time for life application. It might be good to take a moment or two before you get up out of your seat and finish with your notes. Reading all that you wrote down, make a list of only one or two areas of your life you can focus on this week as a result of the message. Keeping your list to one or two items will keep you from being overwhelmed. Often when we feel overwhelmed with all we need to change, we get tempted to not even try. By making even one change in your life because of the message, you will bring glory to God and JOY to the preacher.

Discuss the sermon with others. Talk about it with your family on the way home from church. Grab lunch with some church friends and share with them how this message impacted you. This is another way to do LIFE together and grow with others.

Get to small group. At Redemption, we make it a point to have discussion questions from the sermon to help small groups apply the message to life. Bring your notes from Sunday and be ready to find help in living those lessons the Holy Spirit placed on your heart.

Put up reminders in your home to help you live the truth. One couple at Redemption has a special whiteboard in their home. Each week, they write down the main points of the sermon to remind them all week of the truths they are striving to apply. Or maybe you can write out the key applications on a 3 X 5 card to carry with you through the week.

It may seem like a lot of work, but if any endeavor is worth the effort, growing to become more like Christ certainly is. Dr. Ryken drives this home when he writes;

Do you know how to listen to a sermon? Listening–really listening–takes a prepared soul, an alert mind, an open Bible, and a receptive heart. But the best way to tell if we are listening is by the way that we live. Our lives should repeat the sermons that we have heard. As the apostle Paul wrote to some of the people who listened to his sermons, “You are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read by all men; clearly you are an epistle of Christ, ministered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of flesh, that is, of the heart” (2 Cor. 3:2-3; NKJV).

Deep, deep love and musty old books.

Watching the sunset over the gold, ready for harvest cornfields as I drove home, I felt calm and content…and deeply in love. As I steered the car with one hand, my other hand held Courtney’s. And we talked…about politics, about our younger selves, our kids, how much we love the fall…just talked. In fact, the conversation hadn’t lulled all day. 

I love seeing her like this. She was happy…deeply happy…and it didn’t take much. Some girls needs diamond rings. Others need designer clothes. Not Courtney. The recipe that stirs deep joy in her takes two simple ingredients; time with me and old, musty books. 

On a whim, we had decided to take a quick road trip to Wabash IN, a small town about 45 minutes away from our house. There’s not much in Wabash. It’s a small Indiana town, the kind that John Cougar Mellencamp probably had in mind when he sang his songs. But this town happens to contain my wife’s favorite place in the world…a very large used bookstore. It’s a love we BOTH share, actually, but a little differently. She wandered over to the classic children’s literature section, and I got lost in the cheap, paperback thrillers. This place has thousands of them. We connected every 20 minutes or so to compare our stacks, share some treasures we found, then return to our personal, blissful searches. By the end of nearly 3 hours, our stacks were too high. But I talked her into buying them all anyway. It’s funny. I can’t get her to buy herself a decent pair shoes nor can I talk her into purchasing Nabisco Nutter Butter cookies (she will go for the off-brand every time), but it was EASY to convince her that the books were a worthy purchase. The poor old man behind the counter had to ring them up twice because he got lost halfway through the stack the first time. But considering we helped him make his day profitable, he didn’t seem to mind. 

After a delicious dinner together, and more conversation, we headed home. And driving with her hand in mind, I had to recognize…after 24 years, we were still in love. Not the fleeting excitement of a new love, or the more-romance-than-reality of a honeymoon giddy love. The love I felt for her was the kind that takes years to soak into your bones. The kind of love that only comes after walking through fire together…fires you caused yourself, but she still stuck with you and loved you through them anyway. A love, not based on what we hoped each other would one day become, but one based on accepting fully who the other person really is, and choosing to enjoy the best parts, while forgiving the worst. The deep, deep love that doesn’t need extraordinary events to find joy, but one that finds extraordinary joy in something as ordinary was musty, old books.  Driving home, I was talking to two people. I was enjoying chatting with my wife, and thanking my good God. Some days have been hard. Some are downright soul testing. But this day was a good day. A very good day. And I am very blessed. 

The Pastoral Brotherhood

This article was originally written for the Great Commission Collective’s Website on June 12th. Check out www.gccollective.org

Rambo is a farce. He’s a fake and a phony. I would never say that to his face, but then again, I never could because he’s fiction. He’s not real.

I remember feeling enamored with Rambo when I was a kid. It was impressive to watch him take on massive armies of bad guys all by himself. He was so well-trained and so knowledgeable in his survival (and killing) skills that he didn’t need anyone else.

But he’s a fake. He’s not real. The first thing we were taught as United States Army Infantry soldiers was the importance of our squad. Our drill sergeants taught us the need of others in arms with us to be victorious. This important principle was drilled into our heads regularly. “Never go alone,” they said, over and over.

This truth was around long before the U.S. Army discovered its importance. James, the brother of Jesus, knew it when he under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit wrote, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16). The wise King Solomon knew it. “And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Eccl 4:12).

This is true of any Christian man trying to lead a victorious Christian life. And while most pastors know and teach this truth, they find it hard to live in community themselves. I’ve heard many pastors quote the axiom “It’s lonely at the top” as they experience a unique and intense aloneness. Many men fear being real and vulnerable as most congregation members don’t understand the unique pressures and temptations of the pastorate. Some, perhaps most, fear revealing their deepest struggles as doing so could cost them their jobs and livelihoods. But isolation cannot be the only recourse and if fellowship is necessary for the sheep, it’s also necessary for the shepherd.

So what’s the answer? I believe that pastor’s need a brotherhood of other pastors. We need a group of fellow shepherds who are meeting regularly and intentionally to shoulder one another’s burdens and give strength with mutual, pastoral care. We need to help each other navigate the unique difficulties of leading a flock of God’s people.

There are several benefits to a pastoral brotherhood.

Pastoral brotherhood brings camaraderie.

Friends are different than comrades. Comrades are those who are with you in the foxhole. They are the ones who share a joint mission, joint experiences, and have built a unique trust with you. You put your life in the hands of your comrades, and I can’t say that about all my friends. When a pastor develops deep relationships with other pastors, he puts around him other men who are just as passionate as he is about accomplishing the mission God has given them. There is a bond that is formed when you do life with others who are striving for the same life goals with the same passion. It’s both reassuring and motivating. Pastoral brotherhood brings camaraderie.

Pastoral brotherhood brings companionship.

When I was in the army, my battle buddy was Pvt. Hayes. Prior to enlisting, Hayes was a rabble rouser and a trouble maker. He was one of those who had the choice of either going to jail, or joining the army. However, I came from a strong church and active youth group. My background was completely different as were my convictions and life choices! Although he was my foxhole comrade, we were NOT companions. We trusted one another, but we didn’t exactly enjoy each other’s company.

With a pastoral brotherhood, you surround yourself with men who not only share your life’s mission, but who also share your deep personal convictions. They share your values and can support you as you live them out. Pastoral brotherhoods go beyond simple camaraderie. They can form deep friendships.

Pastoral brotherhood brings compassion.

No one gets the difficulties that pastors face except other pastors. If you doubt that, try explaining to someone the unique fatigue you feel after preaching on Sunday. There is a special weariness to pouring out your soul trying to passionately communicate God‘s word. But most people look at that with very little understanding. “You just talked for 35 minutes. How exhausting can that be?“ However, your brothers understand. It’s not just a fatigue after preaching, but the weariness of a long elder meeting after bearing with someone through a tragedy they’re experiencing while also carrying for your own family difficulties. They live it too and there is something encouraging and empowering when your trials are shared with others who understand.

I’m so thankful for the GCC. I was privileged to be a part of a recent cohort where we helped one another navigate our way through the COVID-19 pandemic. Each week consisted of a large Zoom gathering, then smaller breakouts with other brother pastors. It was life-giving just being in conversation with them. Outside of my fellowship, I’ve reached out regularly to other pastors in the trenches with me. They have sustained me in my lowest points and resourced me in times of need. God has blessed me giving me what I believe every pastor needs desperately…brothers.

2020 and Psalm 140

Today, I’m feeling the weight of 2020. Though I don’t need to list the reasons why this year has been so “heavy” (you know them well) I will point a couple of soul anchors I’m currently working through.
1. I believe that racial injustice is a REAL thing and I believe the problem IS systemic. My close relationships with black friends have revealed the problem of racism is much, much bigger than I realized. It’s wicked and evil and I want to stand against it.
2. I believe that most of men and women who put on a uniform genuinely hate racism and want to protect the innocent while maintaining peace and justice. The VAST MAJORITY of police officers are doing good work are far from racists. I have very close friends who are in this group as well.
3. Since so many Christians do not nuance well (see my earlier posts), trying to speak up and speak out about both these groups is hard. You stand for one, you hurt the other, it seems. But loving BOTH sides weighs on me.
4. The city of Fort Wayne has experienced first hand the riots that have torn our country apart this weekend. These riots hit home as my boys were working in a location where there was a threat of more riots. The soldier/warrior in me wanted DESPERATELY to just stand there to protect them in case something happened. Worrying about the safety of my boys but also wanting to understand the anger that drives the violence is a weight.
5. My own sin and failure can be a weight as I just want to navigate all this better. Why am I anxious when I know God will prevail? Why can’t I love my wife and my family better, even through my weight? Why do I run to other things instead of Jesus to comfort my soul?

So many weights!
But today, God lightened them as I sought His face in Psalm 140. It “just happened” to be the Psalm of the day for my devotions, and in it, God answered so many concerns.

Fear for my families safety? the safety of the officers I love?
Ps. 140:1-2
1  Deliver me, O LORD, from evil men;
preserve me from violent men,
2  who plan evil things in their heart
and stir up wars continually.

Guilt and Shame over my failures
Ps. 140:6-7
6  I say to the LORD, You are my God;
give ear to the voice of my pleas for mercy, O LORD!
7  O LORD, my Lord, the strength of my salvation,
you have covered my head in the day of battle.

Pain over the sin of social injustice
Ps. 140:12
12  I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted,
and will execute justice for the needy.

This is why daily time in God’s word is so needed! This why seeking HIS face is vital. God has NEVER failed to meet my deepest soul needs when I’ve sought Him. Nothing can stand against my God. Not even 2020!

Christians are TERRIBLE at nuance… – Part 3: The Problem has a REMEDY

This is part 3 of a 3 part series.
Click here for Part 1
Click here for Part 2

We are BAD at nuance, but how do we fix it? Here’s a few questions to ask yourself before posting.

Haven I taken sufficient time to study and think?

There is no legion of adoring fans awaiting our responses. The issue might SEEM pressing, but there is time. Think. Pray. Consider the angles. My small group leader recently reminded me that it’s wise to consider something for at least 24 hours before responding, especially when you are emotional about the topic. Many topics will take much more time! Be patient and think.

Do I know what God’s Word has to say regarding this topic?

It just can’t go without saying; God has made Himself known to us through His word. When considering any topic, we have to ask ourselves “What has GOD said?” and “How clearly has He said it?” I believe what I believe about women elders simply because God’s word is so clear on the topic. I also have women leaders in my church because I see that in the Bible as well. But coming to those conclusions took time and study.

Have I talked to other people about this topic? More godly people? People different from me?

Have conversations with people older and wiser. Talk to people different from you; from different theological backgrounds, different journeys than your own, different genders and ethnicities. Have a balanced mind; one that is open to other view points, but never compromising your biblical convictions. Even if others don’t move you from your position, it will at least help you share your thoughts with more love and grace.

Am I honoring God with not only WHAT I’m saying but HOW I’m saying it?

but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect,
1 Pet. 3:15

Someone once rightly said, “If you are RIGHT, but you are WRONG about the way you are right, you are still WRONG.” Remember, you are a wretch who deserves hell. If left to your own devises, your life would be shipwreck. You’re not wise enough. You’re not smart enough. And yet GOD loves you anyway! Let that humility and love guide your words and interactions.

CONCLUSION:

Nuance is needed. Wisdom demands it. Let’s slow down, think well, love well, and help one another grow in our understanding of God’s word and how it applies to real life.