Leading, not Pushing

You can learn how to lead well in some very unexpected circumstances.

A little background first. I grew up in a very conservative church environment with an emphasis on pastoral authority. It wasn’t a cult by any means, but from the outside you might recognize some cultish tendencies. To some members, the pastor’s interpretation of Scripture was generally viewed as right because he said so, and those who disagreed would be seen as dissenters. There was some room for discussion, and others were allowed to teach at times, but the rule was that all ideas were vetted through the pastor. He was the final authority in church matters. Ideas about anything from doctrine to the color of the carpet; from service schedule to plants in the foyer.

Others may have had a different experience in a similar environment, but what I took away was a strong distaste for authoritarianism in the church. This has been an underlying fear of mine since following the call into ministry: that I would succumb to the love of power and pride as a leader in the church. Four years in and the temptation is ever present, and likely my past experience is the grace and blessing that keeps me aware of it. 

I have found that holding the gift of teaching too tightly leads to a lack of trust in others, poor listening skills, and over-developed speaking skills. The expectation we can sometimes have is that we are called to teach every single person who crosses our path. (The gift has become our identity.) This can lead to an overbearing, impersonal, distant persona. People will view us as above instead of among, because, in our hearts, we’ve believed this premise, too. 

Jesus says something else: Matt 22:25-28; Matt 23, et al.

I have found that personally investing in the individual lives of those I’m called to minister to has done more to teach me about leadership than a hundred sermons preached to an audience. Being vulnerable has taught me to see myself in them. The Spirit has made me aware of my weakness through the weakness of others. As I seek to be grasped more and more by the love of God for me, his love for others through me grows and my mind and heart are transformed to honor them above myself. I’m not good at this, mind you. Submitting to love is death for the flesh. But there is hope for me yet.

Living and Dying

I feel like I am simultaneously living and dying.

These past few weeks have been hectic in our house, and not just because of the holidays. Nearly every day for a week I’ve had many moments where I’ve felt both incredible stress to the point of tears, along with incredible joy and peace in walking with Jesus. I wonder if this is the juxtaposition of the life of a disciple. I know that in the past I’ve always considered these feelings mutually exclusive, but perhaps it’s not that simple.

Here’s what’s true: loving others in the abstract is simple, easy, and satisfying to a point. 

Actually loving others is frustrating, offensive, and totally fulfilling. Actually loving the sick, broken, dirty, and selfish is annoying, depriving, and completely worth it. Actually walking the path of Jesus is sacrifice, rejection, suffering, loneliness, hardship, temptation, death. And absolutely priceless.

Thus I find myself both living and dying in the same moment. I find myself possessing a treasure I only ever dreamed of. I find myself seeing, feeling, and walking with Jesus – Jesus, the person.

Because there’s no such thing as “enough faith” for anything. None of us have enough. But we have Jesus. He says, Walk with me and be filled. Not just satisfied, but filled. 

You’ll never know him better by watching him walk by. Get up and go with Jesus. He’s the treasure you seek.

Gift of Service

In essence, all gifts God gives to the church are gifts of service to his body.  We are servants first to God, and then to one another; rather, we are servants to God by serving one another.  The primary question, then, is this: How does my gift reflect the service of Jesus to me?

Jesus served us through weakness.  He became weak by taking on humanity, by becoming human.  He suffered my weakness through accepting temptation in his flesh.  He was literally born into sin as I was, suffered the limitations of being flesh and bone, and allowed himself to be made weak to the point of death so that we could live in the strength of his resurrected Spirit.  He learned obedience by the things which he suffered, and he grew in faith and trust toward his Father.  He walked in the fear of the Lord, and gave himself fully into his hands.

My spiritual growth is not about getting better and better at not sinning.  It should be a realization that apart from his creative work in me I am most wretched, and more wretched than I first imagined.  It should be a daily renewal of the realization that I need the salvation Jesus gave me through his sacrifice.  I should be constantly and consistently amazed at what Jesus had to forgive and overcome to give it.  With this in mind, I am never in a position of earned “lordship” over the flock, but should remember that the gift given for service to his body is a token of grace, totally undeserved by me.

God intends for his greatest gifts to be given through apparent weakness.

We are always to recognize our weakness so as to need his strength.  We want Jesus to be seen, not our efforts to be Christ-like.  If Jesus is seen his work will be obvious without any promotional help from us.  So I am free to serve according to the measure of grace given to me, and able to serve in whatever capacity he wills to be of greatest benefit to the body, event to the point of giving up any position and all perceived earthly influence.  Jesus ultimately gave up his position and influence as a teacher and preacher to serve all of humanity according to the will of the Father – through weakness – and gained a position and influence he would never have otherwise achieved.  And if the way of service is through weakness, then I should not be surprised that if through my failures God witnesses of his strength to the community around me.  Further, he will allow me to fail in order to brighten the light through my humble reliance on his grace and truth.  And perhaps he may someday ask me to step down from a leadership position for a new way to serve his body, and so long as my identity is not rooted in what I do for God, but rather in who I am in him, I will be open to his calling.

A Short Answer to “What Is Missional?”

“Jesus told us to go into all the world and be his ambassadors, but many churches today have inadvertently changed the “go and be” command to a “come and see” appeal. We have grown attached to buil…

Source: A Short Answer to “What Is Missional?”

Pondering the Path of Life

“Lest thou shouldst ponder the path of life, her ways are movable, that thou canst not know them.” Proverbs 5:6

Once you see sin in its true, naked form, you gain a knowledge of it that leads to a firm belief in its destructive nature.  This is part of what motivates you to cast off the work of darkness, to repent, and to be renewed in praise and thanksgiving for forgiveness and grace.

And then it moves.

Sin seems to move into a new light, giving us a new perspective that needs to be learned afresh.  It seems to have a new face on, with new tricks that allure us.  This is because sin’s ultimate object is not simply to lure you to commit a wrong action.  No, ultimately sin want you to focus on itself to the exclusion of everything else.

Sin’s object is not to tempt you to do wrong, but to keep your eyes off of Life in Jesus.

Sin constantly finds new ways to be attractive, to justify lust, to deceive us about its consequences; these are new ways it must be resisted, ignored, and reckoned powerless.  Sin does not want you to ponder the path of life (faith in the finished work of God in Christ) but rather ponder how YOU must defeat it along your path.  The truth is, though, that if we’re on a path of fighting guilt and condemnation for our weakness and failure, we’re not on the path of life. We’ve strayed onto sin’s path, where it controls our beliefs about who we are, and where we forget who God is. We’ve actually made the mistake of worshiping sin.

What?!

That’s a fantastical thing to say, I know. But what would you describe a person as doing if you saw them being controlled physically, emotionally and mentally by something outside of themselves? What if they were doing what this thing wanted, feeling good or bad about their attachment to or detachment from it, and thinking in a way that was more like the thing than their own individuality?  Another proverb puts it this way: “He that is slow to wrath is of great understanding: but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly.” (Proverbs 14:29)  If the circumstances dictate our response, rather than the Spirit within us, we’ve literally “exalted” that temptation to sin.  Lust conceived sin in that moment and we worshiped at the altar of sin.

Jesus has freed us from sin’s power, from the eternal consequences of its destruction, and from our desire to seek satisfaction in it.  That work is all done – it is finished.  We no longer need to have anything to do with it.  When sin asks you to look at and focus on it, remember that we have Someone far better and more glorious to behold who has defeated sin in all its ugliness, and has given YOU the Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead.  We don’t have to defeat the sin in our path, or in our flesh.  In Jesus we rise above it.

Going Deeper

“And I’m not sure if I want to go as deep as I think I need to go.”

Read the above statement on a blog I follow, and I totally identify with it.  The writer is a pastor seeking to lead a group of God’s people to be more mission-minded.  His struggles are probably typical of what you’d find in an established denominational church: tradition, apathy, stubbornness… you name it.  But regardless of the context in which we find ourselves, the sentiment remains the same.  Jesus calls us to death.  That’s pretty darn deep.  And it’s hard sometimes.

I will take advantage of the relative anonymity of the internet here, and confess to a weakness for pornography.  I suppose though, that since my wife knows, as well as my church family, there is no need to worry who else knows.  In fact, “worry” is exactly what I want to talk about.

It is very difficult for me to balance the belief that I bear no shame for my sin due to Christ’s substitutionary atonement (resulting in freedom from the condemnation of the law) with hating the pain and destruction my sin causes.  I mean, it’s one thing to preach the gospel, and another to believe it when you really, really need to.  Because here’s the thing: if my shame is gone and I’ve been made free, then why should I care who knows what’s in the depths of my sinful flesh?  I stand redeemed, justified, sanctified and righteous before my God because of my Savior, and that, my friend, is amazing grace.  See, I know this.  But my wife is wonderful, beautiful, loving, kind and forgiving and I can’t stand seeing her struggle with the insecurity I spawn by my sin.  I’m strongly tempted to feel ashamed of myself even as I write this.

There is a truth about this, though, that makes me sound (and even feel) insensitive to women, and especially to wives.  And that is that she should not feel insecure because of my actions.  I know, how callous of me.  But let’s be real.  This is not an accusation against or condemnation of her, but it is an admission of my helplessness.  If my hope is not in my actions to grant me favor, love and blessing from God, then her hope cannot be in my actions either.  I will never love her purely, never truly give her all of myself, never measure up to the standard of Jesus’ loyal, selfless, sacrificial love for all of us.  How can I?  I used to demand perfection in order to rid myself of this filthy desire, but that was until Jesus showed himself alive to me and opened my eyes to the completeness and sufficiency of the gospel.  I have failed, and I will fail again. You can’t count on me, and neither can she.  Not ultimately.  If I become an ultimate thing to her, I become a god to her.  By the same token, if my shame is wrapped up in my reaction to how she feels about me when I sin, then she has become an ultimate thing to me as well – I’m counting on her to be a source of what only Jesus can give me.  My security and her security is real by virtue of having been sealed in the Body of Jesus by the Spirit.  Only he is forever faithful.

But she is hurt and I feel shame because we both need the gospel.  We both need Jesus every day to remind us of who he is, what he’s done and who we are because of it.  And I hate that it’s this way, that we can’t learn this once and finally and move on.  But I also love that he allows our weakness to remind us of how beautiful and downright tenacious his grace is.  I’m a paradox.  And it’s the best life I can imagine.

So I need Jesus’ love.  I need Jesus to love my wife through me, because then and only then will she have confidence in the only source of faithful love.  She will see that I have died to self so that I might live to God.  She will recognize that the love she feels could not simply have been conjured out of my own heart and mind, but it comes straight from the heart of her Savior, her Healer, her Friend.  I want to be used by him to love my wife and show her in some small way the love of the Father for his daughter.  He will never hurt her, leave or forsake her.  He will stick closer to her than I ever can by myself.

Jesus, thank you for taking my shame.  Thank you for being my hope.  Thank you for my wife.  Help me submit to your love for her in me.  Amen.

 

Read further: Good News for Us Struggling with Pornography

Get a handlebar on it.

So far, the only new thing I’ve done this year is grow a handlebar moustache. And putting on this ‘stache has made me a new man. Rather, according to some memes, it has simply made me a man. I’m now separated from your average clean shaven women and children by the manly art upon my visage. (On second thought, does it make me less manly to spend an extra 10 minutes primping and applying wax to this new facial animal every morning?)

Okay, so it hasn’t changed me that much. I’ve been bearded in some form since 17 or so. But it did get me thinking about new things, the new year, identity, and faith. How do those things correlate? You decide.

Church here needs renewal. If I’m being honest, I have to admit that. But I also don’t need to feel guilty or depressed about it. The downs help us appreciate the ups. Besides, Jesus is still for me, his love never changes, and he remains faithful. It is finished – even when from our perspective the structure seems barely put together. Growth is a lot of fun when one recognizes that in spite of a propensity to fail on our part, Jesus picks us up, cleans the mess, and shows us the better way – again and again and again and again… So I’m excited about some things I believe God is leading us into in 2016. Some things that will bring more focus and intentionality to us as a group, and a fresh focus on the Word so we can learn together as he continues to show us more and more what it is to be a disciple of Jesus.

One of my friends said she feels like 2016 is going to be a good year for deeper personal faith, and she is excited about it. I’m excited to see the Spirit at work in our homes and in our town. The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead lives in us, right? He’s at work in the world, drawing men to himself, right? Then we should expect great and wonderful things from the God of miracles!

I feel like an identity crisis is the crux of every temptation. I probably feel that way because it’s Biblical. From the garden to Jesus in the wilderness, who we are is always attacked by the Devil. As I grew these handlebars it occurred to me that I might easily begin to think about myself differently in light of what my face looks like. People tend to root their security in the image they project. But what happens when the image gets distorted through accident, illness or time? I’m thankful that my life is hid with Christ in God and I don’t need an earthly identity to give me hope. Jesus is my hope because he is the express image of God: glorious, holy, righteous, loving kindness, long suffering… Moustache, thou art but a servant.

Faith. As the world gets darker, the light of truth shines brighter. This year brings us one closer to end, and so deeper into our society’s decline into rebellion. What an opportunity for faith!

• We’ll be challenged – Jesus loved!
• We’ll be persecuted – Jesus gave!
• We’ll be mocked – Jesus trusted!
• We’ll be tempted – Jesus overcame!
• We’ll be tested – Jesus believed!

It’s so comforting to know that Jesus was successful for us, gave his life to us, took up residence in us, lives that life through us, and has made a way to be with us forever! It’s going to be a good year.

Definitions

Christianity does not begin with my preconceived notions. I did not choose Jesus because he closely resembled my outlook, philosophy or worldview. Jesus chose me, and when my life was held in contrast with truth, by grace I turned from worshiping me to worship the true and living God – my Creator. Christianity is not about me finding something that fits me. It’s about letting go of me and letting the life of Jesus become my identity. It is self-denial and truth-acceptance.

 

It is not hypocrisy to sin after receiving Jesus’s righteousness. It is hypocrisy to think that we were ever, or still can be, righteous without him.

To Curfew, or not to Curfew?

Background: My town of Pittsfield, NH established a curfew back in 2006, requiring that all children 16 and under be off the streets by 9:00 pm every night. I didn’t move here until 2010, so I don’t know how bad things were before ’06. Recently, the ACLU-NH “sent letters…to several municipalities with curfews, stating that provision of their ordinances is ‘unconstitutional and bad policy’.” Concord Monitor, November 19th. They then threatened a lawsuit if they were not repealed. The curfew has been temporarily suspended pending the March 2016 Town Meeting, where we will get a chance to vote on the measure. There has been much discussion around town and in local papers, and my Letter to the Editor below is in response, to be published in the upcoming weekly Pittsfield paper.

 

 

There has been some buzz about the ACLU’s condemnation of our town’s curfew ordinance. Some are disappointed with the threat of a lawsuit, and see it as an effort to undermine our freedom of choice to (ironically) restrict the freedom of others. Others will be pleased to finally be free of the startling curfew horn sounding at 9:00 pm every night. Incidentally, since I’m an early riser I appreciate the horn letting me know that it’s bedtime.

But I suppose we should ask ourselves what the real problem is here, and I can’t help but view it through the lens of my faith. I wasn’t yet living in Pittsfield when the curfew was established, but I imagine it was in reaction to mischief caused by adolescents roaming the streets after dark. So what does a curfew solve? Well, it lets us spend quieter evenings in our comfortable homes, sleep without disturbance, and wake up to graffiti-free public buildings. What does it fail to solve? It does not change the hearts and minds of kids with no stability at home or in spirit. It does not force parents to be better stewards of the miracle of life placed in their hands by a loving Creator. It does not give us, as believers, another opportunity to reach out to a troubled and broken world with the peace and love of Jesus.

For those of us in Pittsfield who are Christians, let’s ask ourselves why we are here. Are we here to build walls around our pious, comfortable lives, or are we here to shine a light into the darkness of the ignorance of God’s love? Let’s identify the real problem apart from political distractions, and apply a Gospel solution. We’ve been loved to love; blessed to be a blessing; made free of this life to give our lives away. Let the world see what Jesus is like through our lives.

Truth in Unusual Places

I heard an interesting quote from Bill Murray, of all people.

The automatic things we do are a distraction from the better things we should be doing.

I was reminded of church tradition, personal habits, entertainment, eating, etc. None of them bad by themselves; all of them potentially bad when they become God things to us. What parts of my life and heart have I unwittingly kept under my control instead of submitting it to Christ’s control?

To me, hearing this was a reminder that all truth is God’s truth, regardless of the filter we hear it through. Most of my religious life up until a few years ago was immersed in a culture of judging the filters rather than the content.

Look at leaders who fail: everything they said was a lie.

Look at artists who fail: everything they sing is ungodly.

Look at churches that crumble: everything they did was carnal.

Look at me who (still) sins: I am not doing everything right enough.

I’m so glad that my identity is not based in my failure, but in Jesus’ success!

Bill Murray may not be a Christian – well, I in fact have no idea whether he is or isn’t – but he does have a conscience, he does have creation, and he does have the Holy Spirit testifying of God’s truth in the world around him through the church. I imagine that the angels rejoice when a sinner gets even one step closer to the truth of who God is, let alone when they come to repentance.

Truth is truth, and I love it when God gives it to us through unusual channels. It serves to shake up our comfortable notions of who is right and who is wrong – we can’t easily categorize people or issues. I truly believe that the Lord’s ways are mysterious to us, and I’d hate to tell God he can or cannot do things his way. Well, I’ve done this, and it has hurt me.

Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.