Early Dismissal

Many years ago I read an interview with John Stott, noted British clergyman and author. In it, he was asked his opinion of a particular movement within the church that was seen as a new revival by some and as heresy by others. I have never forgotten his response. (Okay, I've probably forgotten the exact wording - but I remember his point.) Stott said that he had learned not to dismiss such things in their entirety or to accept them uncritically, because God can be at work in a movement even when that movement has elements about it that need disciplined or corrected.

That approach struck me as sensible and somewhat obvious. After all, I trust that God is working in me and in my life despite the fact that I am imperfect, marred by weakness, and often lack understanding. How many things about me need disciplined or corrected? Yet, I believe the grace of God continues to shape me for a greater purpose. Doesn't it make sense, then, that God could be working in a church or a movement within the Church, even though it needs correction at points?

Too often, when it comes to churches that step outside our traditional forms of ministry and thought, we react with an absolutist "all or nothing" attitude. If we see any element that might be lacking or missing the mark, we write the whole thing off as a plague of heresy and deception. Rather than accepting the idea that they might actually have some valid criticisms and questions, we reject them as being subversive. Rather than recognizing that we could possibly learn from them, we vilify them. Rather than acknowledging our points of common ground and entering into genuine dialogue regarding our differences, we draw hard and fast lines of isolation and judgment.

I have come to believe that such an attitude conveys an arrogance that is unacceptable for the followers of Jesus. In essence, it says that every part of my thought and practice is perfect, and therefore, everyone else should be in line with me. It suggests that my way is never deserving of criticism or question, and anyone who does so must not be holding to the truth. In the end, I take upon myself the authority to decide where God will work and through whom He will work.

The fact is, every movement in the history of the Church has had elements that went too far or got off track at some point. Does that mean that God was not working through them at all? There were those in the Protestant Reformation that went too far. I mean, really - when theological arguments end up launching religious wars, complete with persecution and destruction, you probably have gone too far. But we certainly do not reject all that came out of the Protestant Reformation. My own church was born out of the American holiness movement. There were those in that movement who jumped the track and went too far into an unbiblical hyper-perfectionism and legalism. Does that nullify all that God did through that movement? Absolutely not. Looking back, we can indeed see clearly that God was at work in these movements and churches, but we also see clearly the points that needed correction and discipline. The one does not invalidate the other.

Why should we view movements within the Church today any differently?

Arrogance leads us to easy dismissal and judgment, not to genuine discernment. True discernment calls us to enter these conversations with authentic conviction, humility of spirit, and Christlike love. Discernment knows that if we accept uncritically, we may compromise essential truth; but, it also recognizes that if we dismiss easily and entirely, we just might miss out on what God is doing in His Church.

Public Conversations

I've been thinking about the implications of blogs like this one. We now live in a time when pretty much anyone that can turn on a computer can put their thoughts out there for the world to read. And it seems there are those who actually read the thoughts of people like me. (Why, I'm not sure - apparently there's nothing good on TV.) As I thought about that, I came to this realization: our conversations have become public.

When I am part of a public conversation, I need to be concerned about what I am conveying to those who may not be a part of the conversation, but are definitely observing the conversation. Certainly this should be of great concern to those of us who claim to be followers of Christ. Paul tells us in Colossians 4:6, "Be gracious in your speech. The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, not cut them out." (The Message) I believe the New Living Translation expresses it this way: "Let your conversation be gracious and attractive." I wonder, do those who observe my public conversations see something attractive and full of grace? Are they drawn toward Jesus?

The other night I visited a website that claims to defend the true gospel and warns of the deceptions that are supposedly undermining the Church. From there I visited many of the other linked sites that contained like-minded arguments and criticisms. Their public conversation reflected a number of ideas: there is only one "right" translation of the Bible, anything and anyone associated with the emerging church is bad, the spiritual formation movement is a spiritual deception, and the Left Behind series is the only orthodox view of eschatology. There was also the occasional hint that Barack Obama is, in fact, the antichrist.

To be honest, I have no problem with them expressing their theological views, even though they may differ from mine. I enjoy a good theological debate. I also choose to believe they are speaking out of a genuine concern for the Church and what they perceive is right. I fully respect their right and their willingness to express their thoughts and convictions. None of that is the issue. What I found disturbing in all this was the lack of graciousness in the conversation. Christian leaders who do not agree with their position were mocked as sell-outs at best and deliberate deceivers at worst. Going beyond the discussion of ideas, they judged the heart and spiritual condition of others. There was a clear absence of respect, civility, and kindness; it all simply, and unfortunately, lacked grace.

Even if we happen to be right about the issue, what do we accomplish if we drive others away with our unkind spirit? I'm not sure "Christian attack-dogs" serve to build the Kingdom. As the followers of Jesus, our conversations should reflect both the grace of God and human graciousness. This is always essential, but its importance is now highlighted by the fact that our conversations have become public. Others are watching. Will they see a love and respect that is different than the hostility they experience in the world? Will they see a kindness, gentleness, and graciousness that is attractive?

I know I have a long way to go, but I hope I am at least walking in that direction.

Parking Lots and Bad Press

The other day I heard a sports-talk radio host share an experience that caught my attention. He and his wife had gone to dinner, and a church parking lot was across from the restaurant. There was a sign saying that the lot was reserved for church activities, but seeing that it was not a day when any church services were scheduled, and given the fact that others were parking there and walking across the street, the radio host pulled in and parked. When they returned, there was a note on their car from the pastor of the church stating that the lot was for church parking only, and at the bottom, written in large letters, were the words, "CAN YOU READ?"

The radio host shared this on the air, publicizing both the name of the church and the pastor who had written the note. My guess is he will not be visiting that church anytime soon and his listeners probably won't either. (At least for worship - some may actually go there now just to park.) What's that old adage about there being no such thing as bad publicity?

As I finished my drive home that day, I thought about the image of the church that had just been conveyed to thousands of people. This story tells them that the church is more concerned about protecting a parking lot than serving people. It tells them that people of the church will respond with sarcasm and unkindness if they do not do what is expected. It tells them that we are no different in our spirit or priorities than the rest of our culture.

But of course, it's always easy to point a finger and shake your head over what someone else has done. My prayer is that stories like this will bring me to a place of honest self-examination. Am I more concerned about protecting my "stuff" than I am about reaching the people around me? Have I communicated to others a spirit that is sarcastic or unkind? Are there times that I speak when I really should just shut-up? Unfortunately, the answer is sometimes "yes" to all of the above.

In I Corinthians, Paul said that he chose to "put up with anything rather than hinder the gospel of Christ." It's pretty clear from his letters that this did not mean Paul let himself be walked on or that he hesitated to speak the truth. I think the point is that, for him, the genuine work of the gospel took priority over his own "stuff" and his perceived "rights." To damage the witness of the gospel for the sake of his own possessions or desires was contrary to the call of Christ.

We constantly face the danger of reversing the order so that defending our "stuff" becomes more important than reaching others with the love of Christ. Will we be more effective in reaching our neighborhoods by putting up signs to protect our parking spaces or by opening up what we have to serve the community? Will we make a greater impression for Jesus by sarcastically chastising those who fail to live up to our expectations or by responding with patience and mercy? If our only choice is between silence and hurtful words, which path puts the work of the gospel first?

The idea of there being no such thing as bad publicity works for those who care only about their own publicity. For those of us who are followers of Jesus, bad press reflects poorly on Him and hurts the mission He has given us. Sometimes, for the sake of the gospel, we need to take down our signs and not write those notes. In the perspective of the Kingdom, people will always be more important than my stuff.

Lord, help me to simply shut-up, park somewhere else, and go love someone.

Excuse Me

Okay - it's been a while. Things have been busy, I have been distracted, pressing responsibilities have consumed my time, blah, blah, blah. Like you, I have a ready list of excuses I can throw out at any given moment. The bottom line is, though, I haven't posted anything in a while simply because I didn't take the time to do it. Period.

So, that's my explanation to all three of you that actually read this.

It's tough for me to cut to the bottom line and just admit that I could of done something but didn't. My natural tendency is to make an excuse in order to justify my action or lack thereof. I'm guessing I'm not the only one with that tendency. (Alright - it's not a guess; it's actually a statement of fact based on years in the pastorate.) We use excuses like an emergency exit door from responsibility.

The problem is, excuses rarely solve anything. Typically, they lead to questions which lead to further excuses which create more questions. It's an ugly cycle. And in all honesty, I can't say that I feel better after passing off a lame excuse. Usually, my mind is scrambling to find more excuses to fill the holes in my previous excuse. But more important than the issue of my own personal peace of mind is the fact that my reliance on excuses stands as a barrier to my growth in Christlike character.

I've been giving some thought to what Jesus said about letting your "yes" be "yes" and your "no" be "no." People of true humility and integrity simply let their words stand in truth; they do not need qualification or justification. We are not called to live and speak with hidden agendas or conditions, but consistently in truth and love. My words are an expression of my character, and as a follower of Jesus, I want to be able to stand by my words with integrity.

Often, my excuses are not words I can genuinely stand by. Instead, they are manipulative, conditional manners of speech that deflect truth and responsibility. Rather than a simple "yes" or "no," excuses interject a "but" that seeks to distract and distort the reality of a situation. Making excuses does more to defend my pride than to build integrity; it is failure searching for a loophole.

Some habits are hard to break, but as a first step, I will make no excuse for not posting the last two months. But you do have to realize all that I had. . . oh, sorry. It really is hard to stop.

The Trouble With Money

Money makes me nervous. It's not that I don't like it - I'm just afraid of liking it too much. We seem to spend an inordinate amount of time thinking and talking about it. Whether it's at home, work, or even at church, the subject of money easily and often dominates the agenda. And usually the conversation centers on the fact that we don't seem to have enough.

I know it's necessary in many ways, I realize it can be used for great good, and yes, I know the church needs it to carry out ministry. But is it the central issue we so often turn it into? Let's be honest, we tend to make money the repository of all our problems and the solution to all our dilemmas. We believe that if we just had more, everything would be okay. Even in our churches, we frequently make money the scapegoat for our failure to carry out the mission of Jesus, despite the fact that Jesus himself was not exactly known for having a lot of disposable income.

I'm afraid I give money too much credit (so to speak), allowing it to consume too much of my attention and provide too many excuses. And the troubling thing is, I don't easily recognize the power it can have over me. Jesus said something about it being easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven. As much as we try to gloss over that statement, I think he meant what he said. Money can be powerful and deceptive, making it difficult to discern my true motives and priorities. I can easily rationalize my concern for money with a list of valid needs and noble causes, but sometimes that list hides a great deal of self-interest. I need the grace of God to reveal truth and set me free.

Money has its earthly importance, but it is not the heart of who we are and what we do. I know we need it, but it's not the central issue of life or ministry. The evidence is around us every day. There are families with money that still fracture and break apart, people with means who live empty and meaningless lives, and churches that sit on bank accounts while they die away. At the same time, there are those who are poor in the eyes of the world, but live in love, joy, and contentment; there are churches that have little, but are creating life-changing communities of God's grace. There are some who realize that life and ministry are rooted not in the money available to us, but in the love, grace, and power of God offered to us.

I am shaped by my culture more than I care to admit. We all are. Our churches are. Maybe, through that influence, we have come to care about money too much. While we worry and argue about the dollars, we neglect the greater issues of love, trust, relationships, and the power of God. And if that is indeed the case, all the money in the world is not going to make a difference in our families or churches.

Third Base

Although I was never a big fan of football coach Barry Switzer, there is one quote from him that I really like. He once said, "Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple." I'm not sure why a football coach is making a baseball analogy, but that's beside the point. There is a truth within those words that calls us to humility.

Our culture celebrates the independent spirit and the "self-made" individual. But is anyone truly self-made? Can we really attribute our successes, however we define them, to nothing more than our own efforts? None of us experience life in a vacuum, unaffected by others and untouched by circumstances. And while we are certainly responsible for the choices we make, we cannot ignore the impact of influences and opportunities we did not create or control. The fact is, I've had a lot of help along the way. Humility calls us to remember, and be grateful for, the people and opportunities that have shaped us.

I want and need to improve my memory. May I always be aware that:

• I am here, not because of what I deserve, but through the love and grace of God. And God loves everyone else just as much as He loves me.


• I have been helped and blessed by people who have loved me and invested in my life. I would not be what I am without their influence.


• I have been given resources and opportunities that others have not. That is not a reason for pride, but a call to humble gratitude.

There is certainly nothing wrong with recognizing hard work, and true humility does not ask us to belittle the gifts and abilities God has given us. We find it easy, though, to cross the line into self-sufficiency, believing that we have earned by our own merit all that we have and are somehow more deserving than others. But at the very heart of the gospel stands the idea of redemption, restoring that which cannot restore itself. If this is indeed the great need of humanity, then I must also accept the reality that no one is self-made, and the gifts that have been given to me are exactly that - gifts. I am where I am, not because of my own ability, but by the grace of God extended to me in countless ways throughout my life.

Just because I'm standing on third base doesn't mean I hit a triple.

Unconvincing Arguments

Even as a kid I loved to argue. Right or not, I had an answer for everything. If I couldn't win the argument with logic, I would do so with plain bulldog tenacity. I could argue even the most ridiculous position to the point that the other person just wore out and quit.

I used to think that was a great quality until God gave me a child who is just like me. Now, not so much.

As the followers of Jesus, we spend a lot of time arguing, defending what we accept as the truth of God's Word. We fight with school boards, governments, scientists, and Oprah. We develop curriculum, organize associations, and orchestrate email campaigns, all for the sake of winning the battle with those who don't believe what we believe. We literally spend millions of dollars of the Kingdom's resources and countless hours of time and energy trying to win arguments with the world.

I'm not going to say that's a bad thing, and in no way would I ever question the heart or motives of those who take on these battles. But I am at the point in my life where I'm asking some tough questions, and here is one: Why do we, as Christians, spend so much time and effort trying to prove the Bible right and at the same time completely ignore so much of the Word in our own relationships?

Think about it. We will defend a creationist view of Genesis 1 to the point of death, but easily turn a blind eye to Jesus' words about forgiving others. (Matt. 6:14-15) We are quick to protest the liberal scholars who seek to redefine the "historical" Jesus, but slow to follow the Biblical direction for resolving conflict. (Matt. 18:15-17) We don't hesitate to express our discontent when society fails to conform to our values, but can be oblivious to our own lack of love for those not like us. (Matt. 5:43-48) While we try to argue the world into believing the Bible, the attitudes and conduct within the body of believers too often contradict the very words we defend.

I know - we are frail human beings and none of us is perfectly like Christ; therefore, inconsistencies will always be a part of the earthly picture. That doesn't mean we shouldn't speak truth to the world around us. Okay - but my struggle is not so much with the reality that inconsistencies exist as it is our failure to confess those inconsistencies in a genuine spirit of humility and repentance. That failure conveys the attitude of arrogance and judgment that so often brings division within the church and mars the image of Christians for those outside the church. When we argue with the world about Biblical values, while ignoring our own failures in following Jesus' words, others will easily dismiss us as self-righteous and hypocritical. What they see is someone more concerned about winning arguments than being like Jesus and loving people.

I have come to realize that the inconsistencies I choose to ignore are not hidden to those around me. They see what I choose not to see, and if I am going to draw anyone into Christ's Kingdom, I must open my eyes and acknowledge my personal failures. The truth is, I am too often guilty of selective hearing. The Scripture is easy to hear and use when it seems to speak to someone else, but it's another story when the light is turned on my own heart. When I finally acknowledge that, and confront my own struggles, I find that I begin to look at others differently. Rather than seeing an opponent who must be argued into submission, I see a person who needs love and grace as desperately as I do.

Personally, I don't know too many people who have successfully been argued into the Kingdom, but I do know many who have found a relationship with Jesus because somebody loved them. Perhaps we would be more effective in our mission if we spent less time trying to win arguments and more time creating communities of love, grace, humility, and acceptance. In a world that is broken and dysfunctional, a community like that just might be a convincing argument.