J.S. Park

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Posts tagged with "pastors"

Pastors and praise leaders: no matter how it went at church today, it’s in God’s hands. Those little mistakes and awkward moments that are making you cringe right now don’t really matter in the lifetime mosaic of your calling. It’s not about you anyway. Pray up for next week. God is already there with all grace.

Question: Are We Really ALL Burnt Out?

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Anonymous asked:

A lot of people at my Church (me included) are burnt out from serving. I had a talk with my pastor this week and he shared that he himself is in ‘survival mode’. He also encouraged me that we are called to serve out of brokenness; but not emptiness. I just wonder if this is how ministry is supposed to be? Why are so many of the people I serve with burnt out? Is there something wrong with the way we serve? Is it self-sufficiency or is there a deeper root / wider church culture or spiritual issue?

 

Hey, I’ve actually been thinking about this quite a lot. I’ve been wondering if there are ANY church leaders who feel like they’re serving out of a full cup — in other words, if they’re mostly satisfied, fulfilled, joyful, and excited for ministry. Anyone? It seems like every time I have a one-on-one with church staff, they’re always struggling and on the edge of quitting.

I mean if so many leaders are seconds from falling apart, is there anyone who is really “fit” for serving?

To some degree, I think all effective leaders will feel burnt out sometimes, even when they’re doing everything right. But this is not really burn-out. It’s actually just ministry.

Sure, there are certainly reasons to step down, take a break, or even quit. There are unhealthy ways to make “church” the only focus of our Christian walk. But ministry will always be hard work and any church leader will always have an uphill battle. It’s a natural part of leadership.

 

What is NOT natural is expending your energy in the wrong direction. This is the bad kind of burn-out that will kill your joy.

It happens from a wrong definition of church. Many churches recruit people simply to be free staff for their own programs, and it’s basically just throwing people into busy-work that is hardly biblical. While this doesn’t instantly mean it’s a “bad church,” I just don’t know if they’re really doing anything for anybody. It’s too close to a cult. It’s nothing that Jesus died for.

I don’t mean to be another guy bad-mouthing the local church, but a lot of them exist as internally isolated self-serving machines only concerned for the “growth” of its members and doing church-ish activities. So if you’re only a praise leader for five years (which is no small thing), then you’ll be fatigued and joyless, guaranteed.

Sometimes I really just want to ask these pastors, “What are you actually doing for the Kingdom of God?” Because most times I assume he won’t be able to answer, not in any real significant eternal sort of way. I’m not trying to be ugly, but really: what the heck are we doing that we’re getting so “burnt out”?

 

If you’re serving in a way that is completely irrelevant to the purposes of God and His Gospel, you will eventually hit a ceiling and be crushed by spiritual exhaustion.

If you’re serving the widow, orphan, foreigner, and poor; if you’re reaching out to the least-of-these; if you’re involved in discipleship and loving people outside your church; if you’re sacrificing a part of your life to bring compassion somewhere at a cost to yourself — then yes, you’ll be pushed to the limit, but it will be a good striving. Underneath the work, there will be a thread of electric excitement because you’ll be doing what God has wired you to do.

It’s the difference between curling one dumbbell a thousand times or exercising your entire body. The difference between running in circles or running towards a goal.

I’m not saying that you can only serve the homeless and fight for social justice to truly serve God’s Kingdom. But take a step back from the routine and don’t gauge your own progress on church-activity.

If anything you’re doing is not establishing relationships and gaining trust with the larger community and discipling some younger people, then you can cut those things. It doesn’t mean you’ll always be on fire for God, but it does mean that before you go to sleep tonight, you will be very close to the heart of God and His people.

— J.S.

Question: Stepping Down From Leadership

image Anonymous asked:

Currently, I am a Bible Study teacher for high schoolers and also one of the praise leaders for the college ministry in my church.   I am in a habitual sin [porn addiction]. Should I step down as a leader until I am not struggling with this anymore?

 

If you would’ve asked me this a few years ago, I would’ve definitely told you to turn in your badge and hand over your Bible.

These days, I don’t make so many blanket-statements and I’m trying to see things on a case-by-case scenario.  I don’t say this so you can do what you want, but I’ve seen plenty of flawed leaders serve through their issues just fine, so long as they’re taking steps to repent and overcome.  They didn’t just confess and stay complacent — they confessed and made forward progress.  

However, you must tell this to your pastor and church leadership.  They have a right to know and they get to call the shots.  If you were the senior pastor of this church, you would also want to know if one of your leaders was struggling with porn.  If they ask you to step down, whether temporarily or permanently, you have to respect that decision. 

The very fact that you’re messaging me shows you probably want to overcome this, and that’s a huge step in the right direction.  I hope your church sees it that way, too — but whether they do or not, you need to tell them.

 

Ministries can only work when they are brutally transparent and fatally honest.  If you keep this from them, you will both hurt yourself and hurt your people.  If you’re honest, it still might hurt you and some others, but that’s where the healing can happen.  Don’t hide it anymore.

If it were my church, I’d probably still keep you on the team and work with you on your battle. I don’t mean to “compare sins” or anything, but porn addiction is not the same thing as beating your wife or doing heroin or embezzling church funds (in which case I’d probably kick you out and call the cops [and counsel you from your jail cell]). 

If you can remember the humility of being in leadership, then that fact alone should be enough motivation to defeat your habitual sin.  Now add God plus your church cheering for you.  So the only thing you need to do right now is to be honest.  I’m hoping your church is a safe haven of grace that is willing to restore you.  And if not, honesty is still the best and only policy.

Please remember that there’s no shame in stepping down, whether it’s your choice or theirs. It doesn’t have to be a big deal — it’s between you and the Lord and your mentor working some things out. 

 

If your church decides to work with you on these things, then don’t beat yourself up out of perfectionism.  Don’t let the devil tell you that you’re not good enough, because that’s actually a really lame gameplan.  I’m not good enough?  You’re right — I never was.  Be patient and set up a good battle plan to face this head-on.

You can also still be a mentor for potential students to be leaders.  Your students need to be able to function without you, so if one day you have a meltdown or you step down or you take a break — they won’t worry.  They will, in fact, grow. 

You should be doing that already anyway.  My job as a leader is always to work myself out of a job. One of my absolutely favorite things to do is to promote younger people and build them up.  Any chance I get, I brag on young disciples and cast big visions and promote their blogs and encourage them to step it up.  Real leaders make leaders, in spite of (and even because of) their own brokenness.

Pray hard through these things.  Ministry is serious.  Fortunately, God is gracious.  You can beat this sin.  It’s not the only thing about you.  God will help.  Jesus was glad to die and rise for this very sin you’re fighting.  You have the loving power of the Holy Spirit.  And God is a God of second chances.  He will love you all the way through it.

— J.S. 

Relatability Doesn't Mean Lukewarm Living

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I know there’s a moment when the preacher says something you can relate to — “Maybe you’re the guy struggling today with porn, drugs, drinking, punching small animals, and racing police officers, and you hate evangelism and Bible-reading and prayer just as much as I do!”

— so we totally nod along, BUT: relatability is not an excuse for lukewarm living.  It’s not permission to sit on the sidelines. 

A sigh of relief is not a sigh of excuse.

On one end, guilt-fear-and-shame are lazy preacher tactics that cripple us into fear-based faith, which isn’t sustainable.  Guilt has me staring at me.  But on the other end, half a grace has me staring right through God.

Sometimes what we perceive as grace is really watered-down reactionary Gospel, or it’s the preacher simply having a catharsis of his own demons to feel better about his past.

So we wouldn’t want half a grace.

 

 

Half-a-gospel offers a “better life” but neglects our struggle against the devil and the dark — a discount flea market God like a doting grandfather who handwaves your hurt.  It leaves out spiritual warfare, deception, worldliness, and prideful rebellion: all the things that hurt you.

I’m not saying we need sackcloth and ashes and to tear our robes.  It doesn’t help to accuse the lukewarm of being lukewarm.  I’m saying: We are in constant battle, and grace is just as much our haven of rest as it is our resolve to fight.

Faith is a process, yes — but it’s in the process where the grace invades, so we need to start.  We need grace for the continued diligence and vigilance to persevere: so please, jump on.

 

The preacher’s job by the Holy Spirit is to set you free towards grace to an empowered, fruitful, passionate, fully forgiven life.

It is NOT to enable your affair, our lack of care for the poor, our aversion to serving, or our self-reliance.  Please don’t mistake grace for enabling, entitlement, or halfway hearts.

Jesus sets you free for a wild, dangerous, painful journey that is not safe nor sterile — but it is joyful and good.  

This is not easy: but this is a good deal.

 

I know this faith-journey will always be a huge struggle.  We will wrestle in faith all the way to glory.  We will not get it right a lot of the time, and any act of righteousness will be a miracle.  So then: this must have us wanting more grace, and not less.  It must leave us desperate for more of God’s surgical love, and not pampering.  It must keep us anchored to Him, however imperfectly.

It’s a great thing when the preacher can relate to us — and it’s an even greater victory when we see a vision beyond it, when we join together as the kind of body that we never could’ve imagined but that God has always dreamed us to be. 

Dear friends: We will be assaulted and we will sometimes fail.  It’s okay.  But do not deceive yourselves to settle for less. Get up, go again.  I’m with you, I love you, and I have hope for our generation. 

Fight with passion. 

 

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

— 2 Timothy 4:7

 

“If you have really handed yourself over to Him, it must follow that you are trying to obey Him. But trying in a new way, a less worried way. Not doing these things in order to be saved, but because He has begun to save you already. Not hoping to get to Heaven as a reward for your actions, but inevitably wanting to act in a certain way because a first faint gleam of Heaven is already inside you.”

— C.S. Lewis

 

— J.S.

Don’t Trust Me: Because I Will Let You Down

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The Christian community fervently follows tons of bloggers, preachers, and voices to aid them in their spiritual walk, and I think this is awesome: but please, please, dear friend, you must also please think for yourself.

If something in a sermon sounds funny or off or weird, don’t believe it just because it’s coming out of the mouth of your favorite preacher.

If your favorite blogger is saying something you silently disagree with, it’s okay: you don’t have to fanwank them to protect their pedestal in your mind.  It’s okay to disagree. 

If they say something obviously wrong, it doesn’t make them a bad person: it just means they’re still learning, and so are you, and so are we, and no one gets it right every time.  Most of them — and me too — are still working on the things they’re preaching.

Every single person you listen to is just as broken, crazy, and capable of error as you are. I’ll go further and say: some of these guys only care about blog hits and revenue and the number of followers and likes and reblogs, and don’t really care about you, and they have their prepackaged automatic statements ready to fire when they want to act like they care about you. We all do.

Some do love you, but are not truthful. Some are truthful, but don’t love you.

Don’t trust them; not fully, ever. Don’t trust me. Just trust Jesus.

 

I’m not saying this out of some kind of reverse-humility, as if to look more humble. I’m dead serious. Don’t trust me.

I’m also not as cool as I try to make myself. If you met me, I’m much shorter than you imagine, I laugh too loud in public, I usually smell like Asian food, and my teeth are pretty crooked. You’d be disappointed.

None of these preachers and bloggers are heroes. They’re not the sacred hologram we might have built them up to be. I’ve seen many wonderful men and women of God completely melt down, freak out, throw tantrums, and go violent (including myself) — and again, it does not make them bad people. It just makes them people.

 

Question everything. Use the Bible as your lens. Ask: Would Jesus have agreed with this? And at some point, land your heart on your conviction. We can’t walk this walk emulating other peoples’ opinions and secretly hoping for their approval and applause when we can parrot back information.

I am not discounting community, but the danger of numbers can often lead to conformity.  True transformation only happens when your mind fully closes on the truth, and that journey of discovery must happen on your own. 

Otherwise, when you find out these people are only people: your identity will be crushed, too.

 

Don’t look up to me, or to some supposedly eloquent, articulate, witty, humble blogger. Please don’t get caught up in the magical spun spell of a brilliant-sounding idea that is backed by the icing of so much self-aware, juiced-up, over-hyped scaffolding. At its central core, even when the “good idea” is true: it cannot work in the space of your deeply held convictions unless you actually swish the idea in your mind and clamp your mental jaws upon the meat.

It can’t become a part of you until it passes through you: and even then, it needs to pass the test, to be rotated in 3D, to be examined in the light of reality. You will be disturbed by how many ideas so quickly fall apart this way. Yet you’ll also be liberated towards pure wisdom that is not only functional but alive, a pulsing breathing life that is more than inspirational pep talk on a page.

Wisdom, then, is so much more than mental assent or reblogging a “convicting” post — but to be held up against itself, in the scorching no-nonsense eye of God, stripped of flowery layers, and arriving in your heart before applying it with your hands.  This is how great revolutions began.

 

Try an experiment. For a week or so, do not read any blogs or listen to any sermons. Don’t read any Christian books or seek someone else’s advice. Instead: Spend time in prayer and Scripture, in your bedroom or out in nature, and question everything. Talk with the Father. See what you find. Solidify your convictions, and when you come back to the open world of voices, see if you have a refreshed perspective.

I think your outlook will change. I think you’ll find that many of the paradigms and social constructs that you held dear were wrong: not because anyone is bad, but because we buy into ideas that sound good but don’t really work.

You’ll find that some authors and pastors and bloggers probably have noble intentions, but they’re writing from a vacuum-sealed, isolated laboratory without true love for your soul. You’ll see the cute little catchphrases and preprogrammed statements and all the self-promotions and attention-seeking — and you’ll see it in me, in you, and realize there is Only One we can truly trust with our entire being.  Because He absolutely loves you within Himself, without extra motives, without working an angle.  I would check with Him first.

Follow Him.  Please: follow only Him.

 

Do not treat prophecies with contempt but test them all; hold on to what is good, reject every kind of evil.
– 1 Thessalonians 5:20-22

Stop trusting in mere humans, who have but a breath in their nostrils. Why hold them in esteem?
– Isaiah 2:22

Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.
– 1 John 4:1

The law of the Lord is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.

– Psalm 19:7-8

Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.
– Jeremiah 33:3

Church People

A very nuanced, insightful post on church, pastors, and human nature. 

gothicchristian:

It’s interesting how we judge the church. Not just as non-Christians or former Christians, but as fellow Christians. Everyone hates being judged and held to a perfect standard — but that doesn’t fight hypocrisy. It fuels hypocrisy. It’s how we justify our own judgmental, high standards.

Before I…

The Totally Awkward Bible Study: And Four Ways To Push Forward

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You’ve been there at church on a Wednesday night or small group or post-sermon discussion where somebody has the sheet of questions, there’s the go-around of Doritos and ginger ale, and then comes the horrible show-stopping inquisition —

“What are your thoughts on that?”

Oh, this guy got trained good — he’s not asking “yes” or “no” questions. He wants thoughts.

Then the cavernous silence, like God looking for Adam in the garden after the Fall. You look for fig leaves under the seat. All you got is ranch chips and a styrofoam cup of creamy wonder from the He-Brews Coffee Bar.

No one moves, twiddles a thumb, or even breathes: because a sign of life would indicate you want to speak, and getting called on is worse than the moment you use the table of contents in the Bible.

And then like watching a car accident in slow-motion, the leader’s neck moves his head towards you and he asks, “Why don’t we start with you?”

Chairs creaking. Looking for a trap door, fire alarm, paper bag, smoke bomb, taser.

The only way it could get more awkward is if you karate chopped the guy next to you and jumped out a window yelling, “They’ll never get me!”

I feel you on this one. It’s pretty uncomfortable to just talk deep at the drop of a hat, and an insensitive leader with a low EQ — bless his heart — will just trample on your natural defenses.  No one can go from zero to vulnerable that easily. If a Bible study means to get at the core of our human struggle, then we should probably expect a lot of silence.

So hey: awkwardness is okay, and there’s a way to handle it that’s more like a scalpel than a broad sword.

Whether you’re the leader or shy enough to use your turtleneck as a hoodie, here are four ways to push forward.

Continue Reading Full Post

Feb 9

I often ask pastors to look at Jesus’s admonition about weighing people down with burdens they can hardly carry, and not lifting a finger to help them (Luke 11:46). I ask them to look at the part of their talk where they said the words that set people free. If you’re not doing that, you’re on the wrong side of that admonition.

Break down the lie holding me back. Show me the nature of how I became so entangled in this sin. Point to the Bible verse that shows why I always struggle with the same things. I want to be closer to the Lord, but I’m stuck. If you can’t help me get moving forward, then telling me to do what I can’t seem to do is describing the water people are drowning in.

- from this interview with Unka Glen

Question: How Should A Leader Act?

image Anonymous asked:

Hello! My question is, how should a youth leader act? I feel pressure to act spiritual and put on a mask because I have so many people looking up to me. The thing is, I feel stuck and not free to be myself. I’m quite the silly one actually!

 

You know, I don’t know how a leader “should” act.

Does anyone? 

I hate this word “should.” While there’s certainly a way to know how to be, God made you uniquely you because this is exactly how He wanted you. 

Maybe it’s obvious, but God gives you permission to be you.  God is always rooting for us to be more human, not less.  That might be part of the reason He became one of us.

I would totally argue that your youth students like it better when you are yourself and show a little humanity.  If you’re silly, be silly.  If they raise an eyebrow, who cares?  Life is too short to bury yourself under your fears, and life is too long for the exact same reason.

No one likes the guy who demands positional respect.  We like the guy who draws in personal respect.  I’ll probably listen to a guy who is bossing me around, but secretly I resent him.  I’ll nearly always listen to the gracious leader not just because I respect him, but because I like him: and that’s a whole different level of respect.

There are way too many church leaders who act like untouchable kings and CEOs, to the point where they become unapproachable.  It’s always sad when the church applauds their pastor because “he actually spoke to one of us today,” as if he raised the bar from poop to vomit. 

At least half the leaders I know are like this in public: stodgy, stiff, proper, socially awkward, when privately they are very cool people.  I always want to tell them: Just let yourself out to play.

 

When I first began ministry, I was super-aggressive in the pulpit because I thought it was “right” to be loud about Christianity.  I mean if all the Reformed guys are doing it, then I should yell too. 

But while I’m a passionate person, I am NOT this angry preacher persona.  Over months I had to shed that like a bad snake-skin and just relax.  It’s only been the last year where I’ve been more myself, more personable, as if I’m having a conversation with you face to face: and trust me, the congregation appreciated that way more than the shrill red-faced yelling.  And you know: I feel better about it, too.  God has moved way more powerfully when I’m the same guy inside and outside the pulpit.

Sure, there are mentor-student boundaries.  Yes, we must set an example of faith, speech, life, love, and purity (1 Timothy 4:12).  Of course, leaders must step it up and will face a harsher judgment (James 3:1).  But all that is more reason to be yourself. 

So please relax.  God actually likes you for who you are, and so do we.  We don’t just want a leader: we want to know you’re a human being, too.

Many pastors find themselves in a brutal, punishing culture where they only hear from their church members if something went wrong. It’s like all those imbalanced reviews on Yelp where the restaurant was “awful, bad lighting, waiter a moron.” It’s our human nature to write a negative review; not so much a positive one.

Sometimes, your pastor gets it right. A single sentence in his sermon spoke to you. That prayer he prayed over you flipped a switch. That outreach event, while not perfectly coordinated, stirred your heart with affections you never knew. Some blog post he wrote really hit the nail on the head. Simple: just let him know about that. Brag about your pastor to your pastor.

- from this post, about encouraging your pastor

Question: Serving My Church But Feeling Lonely and Used

image Anonymous asked:

Hi, so I am really involved in my church - pretty much the backbone of morning services and publicity stuff throughout the year. I love doing what I do, and feel called to do so, but sometimes I feel so alone in church. Pretty much the only time I get a text, email, or even pulled aside at church is to ask me to do something. I feel like no one cares about me, the person…only the me that does everything. It hurts and I am getting fed up. How do I not feel this way?


I’m really, really sorry this is happening, and if I could give you a big hug and then just as quickly drop-kick your pastor, I would.

I realize your church is not evil nor against you nor are they bad people: but you shouldn’t have to feel this way in church.  You do NOT have to think you’re being silly or spoiled or selfish, as if you’re the problem: because you’re not. You’re totally within your right to be loved, served, and encouraged in the body of Christ.

If you haven’t already, please tell your pastor all about these issues.  Don’t be afraid to speak your mind.  Too many of us remain “polite” and play the Nice-Game at the expense of a single real conversation, and we end up regretting all the energy we used to hide the truth. 

Just be honest.  Please charge through any fears or “suburban courtesies” you might have about keeping it real.  You might be surprised at the results.  Most pastors don’t even realize there’s a problem until they’re told straight up: and trust me, a good pastor wants to know the deal.


If you don’t get the response you’re hoping for, then be prepared to leave that place behind.  I know how much it sucks to move on from a church and you’ll mourn over that, but there are TONS of churches that will appreciate your gifts, your time, your talents, and you for who you are.

Please believe me when I say I’m not trying to give permission for a consumer mentality; I’m not trying to make this sound easy or to say you can break commitments at the smallest complaint. 

But life is too short to stay in a place where you’re being crapped on.  Life is too short to serve a church that claims to love Christ but hardly loves people.  You want to be in a safe, gracious, humble, loving place where everyone is cheering for each other in their ministries.  Believe it or not, there are churches just like this.

There is so much urgent Kingdom-work to be done that we can’t afford an uppity, sour, snobby church culture that is clearly stealing your joy.  Again, I don’t mean to demonize your church and I’m sure there are good things about it, but it’s totally acceptable to believe that God is calling you elsewhere. Be honest and see how that goes, and pray hard through it. 


Also read:

- When To Change Churches?

- You Might Want To Change Your Church IF

By Unka Glen: 7 Ways To Tell If This Is Good Ministry

By Unka Glen: Are you in the right church?

Jan 2

When I practice my sermons, I sometimes pull up a chair right in front of me.

I picture the 15 year old kid whose parents are divorced and who wants to kill himself everyday and hates everyone at school.

I picture the single mom who lost custody of her children because she can’t hold down a job in this economy and drinks herself to sleep every night.

I picture the hard-hearted religious hypocrite who sings loudly every Sunday at his church but goes home to beat his kids.

I think of my future wife, my future children, I think of the historical figures in the Bible sitting there hearing my preaching.

I’m not about to yell in someone’s face who has real issues that need real help.

It’s great to sound passionate. But what does real passion sound like?

It sounds like a man nailed to a cross whispering forgiveness over his own murderers. It sounds like a man raised to life calling for the disciple who betrayed him so he could reinstate him back to fruitful ministry. It sounds like Jesus weeping over Jerusalem, angry at a temple for turning God’s house into a consumer’s playground, raising a young girl to life with the words, “It’s time to wake up now, honey.”

I’m fine with loud preaching, but what are we loud about?

- from this post, about angry preachers

Question: I’m Struggling, But Church Keeps Saying Just “Read Your Bible”

image Anonymous asked:

For Christians struggling with their faith, other Christians often try to offer the best advice they can, but how do you feel about Christians who keep telling those who are struggling to just “read their Bible?” In my “struggling” years when I was becoming serious with my relationship with Christ, I have often come across that advice countless times, and every time, I have always felt that there was a problem with that advice. Not that it was “wrong” but it almost never felt “right.”


Dear friend: any time someone tells you, “Just read your Bible,” they’re saying it because —

1) They’re not really sure what else to say, or

2) They’re not willing to invest their time to hear you out.

To be fair, I can completely understand when someone falls back on easy advice: because giving advice is hard and it sounds right to throw the Bible at something.  It’s a one-size-fits-all trump-card that sounds very spiritual.

But for the most part, this is such a cold, distant, snobby, self-absorbed way to say, “I don’t really care about your problem, so you figure it out for yourself.” 

See: I believe the Bible tells us that we’re designed to work through our issues together, both personally and intellectually. (Isaiah 1:18, 1 Thessalonians 5:14, 5:21, 1 Peter 3:15, Acts 17:11-12, 1 John 4:1).  So the Bible more than anything opens the way to thoughtful nuanced conversation that covers the entire human spectrum of intellect and emotion. 

Instead, a lot of people use the Bible as a protective shield to say, “The answer is probably in there somewhere” — because people are not willing to get messy and dig deep into the issues that plague us.


Please know: God completely understands our struggle.  Since He became one of us, He understands us even more profoundly than we could understand ourselves.  The Big Secret of every single Christian is that we all struggle, we all have doubts and tough questions and idolatrous tendencies, and that’s simply a part of our human experience. God preempted that, which is why He enacted the sending of His Son before the very creation of the universe. 

You got the first step right: you’re approaching with the honesty that somehow, our tiny prepackaged church answers won’t be enough for this.

While some of us have really been gifted with a huge victorious faith (Ephesians 4:7), others will be barely hanging on: and that’s okay.  When Moses parted the Red Sea, both the super-spiritual and highly skeptical walked through — because our faith is not based on its own amount, but on the object of our faith Himself.


The best thing I can tell you is to find a trustworthy mentor who will work through these issues with you and will actually pour out their time for you. 

There will be many times in life where there are no pat answers or quick solutions, but just the need for a daily presence who will struggle alongside you.  We have Jesus, who roots for you every step of the way, and God has given us good people who are more than willing to hear you out and walk the walk with you. 

That kind of trustworthy person bleeds the Bible, and they will point to the Word in a way that isn’t trite, easy, or simplistic: because they get the struggle, too.  They will tell you not just the what, but the how from the Bible and pull it all together, all the while encouraging you to think for yourself. Their advice won’t be so many cliches, but a visceral pulsating everyday intimacy who picks up a hammer and gets to work on this faith-thing together.

Pastor: Six Types of Things You Should Stop Saying In The Pulpit Immediately

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There’s always a cringe-worthy moment on Sundays when the preacher drops an anvil in the pulpit that suffocates the whole sermon. 

It’s a shrill phrase, nails on a chalkboard, subtle as a sledgehammer, insensitive, no tact, no grace, a lazy tactic that’s meant to stir up something but disregards actual human interaction. 

Pastors: don’t just describe the water that we’re drowning in.  That helps no one.  Show us how to swim.

I’m not above these things and have occasionally caught myself in the middle of a sermon to laugh at them.  Let’s be a little more self-aware and nip these at the bud.


1) Pack Your Bags, Time For a Guilt Trip

“Your sin is bad and here are nineteen reasons why.”

“God saw what you did last night.”

“Don’t you know you’re incurring the HOLY WRATH OF GOD?”

“With all that time on Facebook, why don’t you pray and read your Bible and do missions in Africa?”

“You’re an offense to God’s holiness.”

“Are you really worshiping sincerely from the bottom of your heart?”

“Stop talking, other people want to hear the sermon.”

“I don’t heeeear you, are you excited for Jesus or what?  Come on guys, that was weak.”

“If you’re not sharing Jesus, you must be ashamed of him.”


2) Not Scared?  Well YOU SHOULD BE

“If you’re not tithing, then you’re STEALING FROM THE LORD.”

“Porn will turn you into a SEX-CRAZED MONSTER.”

“If you have sex before marriage, you will be physically in bondage to that person FOREVER.”

“Here are twelve signs that YOU could be a Pharisee.”

“God only hears you if you have NO DOUBT.”

“Trust God, don’t EVER ask questions.”

“You’re either a real disciple or you’re a fake lukewarm hypocrite. PICK ONE.”

“If you don’t do ______, then the Devil is WINNING.”

“Don’t end up like Frank.  He slept around and got AIDS.  Do you really want herpes that bad?  You want warts on your genitals?  HUH?”

“Here’s a slideshow of what’s happening in Hell right now.”


3) Imma Let God Finish, But I Got The Best Opinion of All Time

“I’m not a very political person BUT —”

“I love all my homosexual friends BUT —”

“The gift of salvation is free BUT —”

“I’m not sexist BUT —”

“I’m not a scientist BUT —”

“God loves you unconditionally BUT —”


4) Cliches, Platitudes, and (Not) Witty Slogans

“It’s not a religion, it’s a ______.”

“I will now tell an irrelevant story about my family member (most likely my wife) whose permission I did not receive beforehand because I’m a jerk.”

“Here’s a long complicated semi-funny probably-true story to illustrate a point that I could say in two seconds, but seriously it’s worth it.”

“If you really believe God loves you, then your perfectly natural response is to love Him back.”

“Let’s piss off the religious folks.”

“If you’re an atheist, what stops you from eating a baby?”

“The cop pulled me over but let me go. Therefore, God is good.”

“The test results say I have stage 4 cancer, but praise God.”

“… and that’s why bad things happen.”

“God will never give you more than you can handle.”


5) Sophisticated Theology That No One Cares About

“Let me tell you why the Pretribulational Rapture is the correct view and why all the other ones are wrong.”

“Here’s how the Holy Trinity works.”

“Total depravity.”

“I’m a three and a half point Calvinist.”

“I’m a Calvinist.”

“I don’t like Calvinists.”


6) Everything Is Evil

“Don’t fill your heart with movies and music and sports and worldly things, fill it WITH GOD.”

“LIBERAL SECULARISM.”

“They’re ruining our country.”

“Look at that waterfall and the rainbow and the universe and other pretty stuff — how dare you believe in evolution.”

“Video games are the devil.”

“I’m going to use the word idolatry a LOT.”

“Sex is gross, evil, disgusting, horrible, and filthy.  So save it for marriage.”

Question: Doesn’t Grace Make You Lazy?

image Anonymous asked:

Does Christianity encourage laziness? The whole concept of Grace you often speak about lets people off the hook too easily. The Bible says faith without works is dead and Jesus said all trees that bear no fruit will be chopped down and thrown into fire. The reason people are so lazy and under-motivated is because they are always told they’re some special person while no one really is all that special. So how does telling them God loves them help deflate their ego?


So occasionally I get questions like this that make me wonder: Do you really care what the answer is?  Are you trolling right now?  Are you baiting me into a trap?  Have you ever struggled alongside real hurting people? Are you teachable enough to see where you went wrong here?

Christianity encourages laziness just as much as atheism provokes genocidal baby-eating evil — which is to say, you can take any issue and spin it the way you want, and you end up with a simplified straw man that makes ya looks so smarts.

This is a “deconstructive reductionism,” like when movie nerds reduce a movie plot into a laughable writer’s room. It doesn’t add to the discussion, at all.

I love you bro and I say this knowing we might just misunderstand each other: but you’re probably taking the Grace of God and reducing it to a parody of itself, which I would reject too: because it’s not really grace. 


Still with me?  Grace is not so much any one action or rule or attitude, but grace is more of a story about broken people being loved and healed.

Let me tell you about my first pastor.  When I first came to church over ten years ago, I was a stubborn thick-headed horny atheist who was looking for hot Christian girls.  I hated the sermons but I kept coming back: because there was something about this pastor.

He endured with me.  I asked him tons of annoying questions about God and the Bible, but he answered them patiently.  I screwed up a lot: I slept with a few girls in the church and confessed them all, but he never flinched.  He called me and texted me when I never replied.  He bought me lunches, dinners, books, and sent cards to my house.  He spent hours praying for me.  He never once lost his temper with me.

Over time, I realized how much of a jerk I was to him.  I didn’t listen; I was late all the time; I got drunk and went to strip clubs on Saturday nights before strolling in hungover on Sundays; I hardly asked how he was doing.  BUT: he was endlessly loving.  And the grace of this man completely melted me.  I’ve known him now for thirteen years, and there’s no way I could be the person I am today without him. 

I remember small moments.  When one day I was horribly depressed, and he wrote me a letter right in front of me.  When I got out of the hospital from swallowing a bottle of pills, and he listened without judging.  When I was sobbing hysterically one day and he gripped both my hands and told me, It’ll be okay.  God still loves you and He will never stop. 

Even now, my eyes glisten and my heart swells at his sacrifice.  His grace fundamentally ripped away my selfishness and disturbed my ego.  I deserved nothing and he gave me his all.


You get it, right?  Out of gratitude, I came to love my pastor: and I realized I would do anything for him.  When you love a person, nothing is off the table.  And when you realize this person loves you back no matter what, you will be alongside them for eternity.  There’s an endless freedom and security there found in nowhere else.

But why was my pastor this way?  Because of Jesus.  It all pointed to him: and as much as my pastor loved me, Jesus loves us infinitely more.  I began to understand that grace is a love-relationship, a journey, an adventure, a story of a restless human heart who can only find wholeness in Christ.

That’s why grace is an enduring narrative that never really ends — because it will always be about a big picture filled with little moments, instead of a principle or philosophy or theology.


If this bothers you: well it should.  No one naturally likes grace.  It feels too easy, and certainly some people think they can abuse it.  But grace in and of itself can’t be abused anyway, because it’s a gift given freely regardless of how it’s received.

When someone unconditionally loves you despite you with no end in sight, it changes you.  The only other option is to beat you up with religion and rules, which can’t sustain you for your whole life.  While grace takes longer, it will become a part of you in a way that moral conformity never can. 

Without grace, we’re just clocking in our daily tasks until we “feel holy” or we’re desperately trying to hit an arbitrary standard.  With grace, we a have a limitless love that provokes us into the same kind of love.  It changes not only what you do, but what you want to do.  It turns nobodies into somebodies as long as they remember they’re nothing who received something.

That’s the only truth that could ever motivate someone to anything.  We work hard, but grace empowers every effort.