Preach the Gospel

Easter Sunday. 

The day we celebrate the Resurrection.

An observance that Christ died, but did not stay dead. 

Not only was DEATH conquered, but SIN was overcome.

This Sunday is Easter. Right?

I just saw a post on Twitter that read:

"If ever there was a weekend to preach the Gospel, it's this one. Failing to do so would be a huge miss!"

Let me first say that I agree that Easter Sunday most certainly should be a time and opportunity to preach the Gospel. You would hope that to be a no-brainer for anyone called to preach. But here's what's under my skin like a burr on a horse's butt: EVERY SUNDAY is an opportunity to PREACH THE GOSPEL! Failing to do so would not simply be a huge miss, it would be criminal. It's inconceivable and contemptuous for anyone who takes on the responsibility of rightly communicating and preaching the Word of God to preach anything but the Gospel. What else is there to preach? 

How to have a better marriage? That starts with the Gospel.

Being a steward of what God has given us? Who cares without the Gospel?

Overcoming lust or sexual sin? Definitely NOT going to happen without the power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ transforming the heart and mind.

Is this stemming from a grotesque misunderstanding and ignorance of the Word of God and the whole of the Gospel? Is there only one day a year when pastors are called to actually communicate salvation? Is there part of the Bible that's void of the Gospel? I just don't get it. 

Have you read 1 Corinthians 1:17 or Galatians 1:9? Whether to pagans or priests, Paul preached the Gospel.

I know there is much aggravation for many pastors over the folks who show up once (Easter) or twice (Easter & Christmas) a year for our worship services. Let's be honest. Sometimes you (pastors) really want to call them out from the platform. I understand. But is it possible that, because we treat Easter like it's the "Super Bowl" - like it's that ONE Sunday when everybody better bring their A-Game and the sermon better be out-of-the-park and the music has to be through the roof - that could possibly have something to do with why some people only show up on those days? They know what you're up to. They know if there's ever a day when it's all going to be top notch, it's gonna be Easter. WHY?

As a believer - as a follower of Jesus Christ - isn't every Sunday about Easter?

Forget Sundays. Isn't every single day I wake up knowing that I HAVE BEEN saved, I am BEING saved, and WILL BE saved about Easter?

Please hear me: I understand that much of WHAT we do and WHY we do it on Easter is the realization that, if there's a day when we might have more guests and "seekers" than normal, it's this Sunday. I get it. But let me ask you this: How are you going to explain it when/if they show up the next Sunday and, compared to Easter, it sucks? Or maybe it doesn't suck, it's just high-level mediocrity. Shouldn't every single time we gather be rooted in and regenerated by the fact that Jesus died, rose again, and is offering us NEW LIFE? 

This Sunday should be awesome. But so should every Sunday.

Pastors - Preach the Gospel this Sunday. But please, preach it every Sunday.

Enough

Do you have enough?
Enough what, you may ask. 
Enough anything. Enough everything.
If that one more of whatever it is would finally be enough, wouldn't the next one more just eventually take it's place?

These are conversations I have with myself.
Sermons that I preach to myself while I'm driving down the road.
(That's multi-tasking right there, my friends.)

I was talking with a friend a couple of days ago and he was sharing with me about the frustration of looking for a new house, trying to sell the old house, and all that comes with it. As a ripple effect from our conversation I found myself, later in the day, just driving through neighborhoods, looking at houses, admiring the newness - whether new to the world or simply new to me - getting lost in the lure of hardwoods, granite, and sprinkler systems. Then I began having that dialogue with the invisible person in the passenger seat (which if we're just being honest, you could call a monologue), throwing out all the justifiable reasons why I should at least consider that, at this moment in the course of history, our family could seriously benefit from a little more room to breathe, spread out, entertain guests, and call home. I NEED this!

PLEASE NOTE:
I am not telling you to never move or buy a new or different home.
There are occasions and circumstances when it may actually be the best option.
Owning something NEW in no way makes it BAD.
This is not a blogpost about houses. 
It's about the painful reality that very often I lack contentment.
It's the punch in the face when you realize that you're allowing yourself to be pulled into the trap of the never-ending need for "one more".

Paul told the Philippians (4:11-12) that he had "learned how to get along happily...with much or little. I know how to live on almost nothing." He also wrote to Timothy and told him that "there is great gain in godliness with contentment." (1 Tim. 6:6)

That's the heart and life that I want. I want to be able to say (and mean it from the depth of my inner being), "What more could I possibly ever even think to ask for? I am the richest man in the world!" Not because I finally brainwash myself into thinking it's true, or that I finally figure out how to make you think I look at the world this way, but because it's actually TRUE. I have ALL I need!

Today is Thursday, February 21, 2013. 
Today I am laying down my "need" for "one more".
Tomorrow I will intentionally and out of necessity be given the opportunity to lay this need down once again.

Paul said, "I have learned to be content..."
All I can say right now with a truthful heart is that "I am LEARNING to be content."
Lord, please keep teaching me. You are enough.

The Best Bad Idea We've Got

I recently watched the movie "Argo". This post is not a movie review OR a recommendation to watch the movie. But if you are any student of history and don't know this backstory about the Iran hostage crisis in the late 70's, I would highly encourage you look into it. It's fascinating to discover that because so much light was being shed on one aspect or side of a story that another side of it that most didn't even know existed was overlooked, overshadowed, or possibly just plain flat ignored. For the sake of shedding enough light on this post, allow me to share with you a brief rundown from our friends at Wikipedia:

"Militants storm the U.S. embassy in Tehran on November 4, 1979, in retaliation for that nation's sheltering the recently deposed Shah. More than 50 of the embassy staff are taken as hostages, but six escape and hide in the home of the Canadian ambassador Ken Taylor (Victor Garber). With the escapees' situation kept secret, the US State Department begins to explore options for "exfiltrating" them from Iran. Tony Mendez (Ben Affleck), a CIA exfiltration specialist brought in for consultation, criticizes the proposals. He too is at a loss for an alternative until, inspired at home by watching Battle for the Planet of the Apes on TV with his son, he plans to create a cover story that the escapees are Canadian filmmakers, scouting "exotic" locations in Iran for a similar sci-fi film." Sounds crazy, right? Because it was.

As Tony Mendez is confronted by two members of the Cabinet, one of them hits him with the sarcasm-laced question: "Don't you have any other bad ideas?" In quick response, Mendez's agency boss (played by Bryan Cranston) replies, "It's the best bad idea we've got!" This statement and conclusion - that we're in a situation where there appear to be no "good ideas" - and the willingness to act in spite of this conclusion, are great insight into a necessary characteristic of leadership. Sometimes, you simply have to be willing to do something.

I think we often forget that NO response - that doing nothing, not caring, not acting, pretending a problem doesn't exist or standing with our hands in our pockets because there's just no real way to come out a winner - is still a response. Leaders are often revealed and refined in times where there are no good options. They still see that something must be done, a need must be met, a wrong-doing must be confronted, and they act. They move. They go. They don't wait for someone else to exhort them; they exhort by example. (Another great example of this is Mel Gibson's character, Lieutenant General Hal Moore, who led 400 young soldiers into a fight against 2000 North Vietnamese at the beginning of the Vietnam War. While they flew in knowing that this was potentially a lose-lose situation, Moore's feet were the "first to hit the field, and the last one to come off".) In Argo, we learn that Mendez, acknowledging that there "are only bad options. It's about picking the best one." is also the one to say, "I'll go. I'll get them out." While everyone else stood by, paralyzed, he acted. And ultimately, he saved 6 lives.

God may not call you to fly into a foreign country like a spy and rescue hostages. But He may very likely give you to opportunity to what's RIGHT rather than what's EASY or CONVENIENT. You will most definitely get the chance to STAND when everyone else remains SEATED. And to put it another way, as Christ-followers, you will constantly be called to walk the road that's NARROW while countless others keep stumbling down the big, wide path to nowhere. And when it happens, there is great likelihood that you will face more opposition and criticism than support. For encouragement in this area, remember that Jesus knew this scenario very well. 

When all you have left in your arsenal is "the best bad idea we've got", will you still be ready and willing to use it? 

What I See in My Son

As a parent, it's a beautiful and powerful moment when someone - often a complete stranger - will approach you, point to your child and say, "He looks just like you!" And of course I hear people all the time telling me, "Man, you look so much like your Dad." It's awesome to see that very visible evidence that you "belong" to someone - that you see your parent, cousin, grandparent, or child and somewhat feel like you're looking into a mirror in time.

And of course, this goes way beyond just physical looks and appearances. You watch your child's habits or personality traits and don't have to wonder very long as to where they inherited or learned them. I have a couple of mannerisms that I'm becoming aware of that were 100% my Dad. Ironically, one of them used to drive me crazy. How's that for paybacks?

Several years ago we started noticing my daughter (who's the firstborn) in a constant battle for control. She not only wants things done a certain way, she wants to do them herself. There's just no way you're going to pull it off in quite the right fashion. Better let her handle that. Not long after becoming aware of this behavior in her, I began to be mortified over the fact that I was actually watching myself in motion. Why is my daughter a control freak? Because her father is an expert! As your kids start getting older, you begin realizing more and more the extent of the personality traits and learned behavior that they've either inherited from you genetically or have soaked up like a sponge, watching you so powerfully model and put on display. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It can be a great thing! We just have to be aware that it's constantly happening and probably won't let up.

In light of this, the other night I had possibly one of the weightiest conversations I've ever had with my 8-year old son. He REALLY wanted something he saw at the store: a jersey of a very popular NFL player. You see, Nathan would wear nothing but wind pants and football and baseball jerseys if we let him. It's his thing. But for several reasons (which I will spare you in this post) I didn't think he should spend his money on this item. He had just shared with me the day before of something very special - something very selfless for someone else - he wanted to do with his remaining money. Now he's telling me that he "needs" this jersey. "But Dad! I really really want it!" We debated - and I use that word graciously - for quite a bit of time in the store. Finally I told him, "Son, it's your decision. But please understand, I'm not just trying to teach you how to spend your money. I'm trying to help you learn how to make wise choices. And I don't think this is a wise choice."

As you might have guessed, he bought the jersey. And of course, he wore it the next morning.

The whole way home from the mall and most of the evening I was incredibly agitated. And it seemed to be focused like a laser in Nathan's direction. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew it was something much bigger than just the jersey incident. If I'm being honest and transparent with you, I have a great struggle at times having grace, patience, and compassion with my son. He puts me to the test. And I sat there Saturday night, frustrated and distracted, wondering why I was in this condition. And then Sunday morning came and it hit me like a brick upside the head.

When I look at my daughter, I often see some of my quirks, personality, and mannerisms. But when I see my son - when I have to discipline him, teach him the same thing over and over, and sometimes feel like I'm not getting anywhere, I don't see my personality, my facial expressions, my love of laughter, or my easily-distracted zeal for life. What I see in my son is my SIN.

Please understand, this is not to say that my daughter always acts like an angel OR that my son is always in trouble. But my son struggles with the need for other peoples approval. Guess what? So do I. He is constantly at war with a pride that hates to lose and selfishly wants to be first. So am I. My son is often tempted to buy into the lie that if he just gets his hands on that ONE LAST THING...that happiness will arrive like a gift with a bow on top. That a new jersey or pair of Vans or one more game for the X-Box or an iPhone 5 (to replace this dinosaur relic of an iPhone 4) is finally going to bring the satisfaction and elation that will eternally sustain the sunshine of my heart! And of course you know, that's all a big, fat lie. Those moth-eaten, rust-destroying, temporary idols I place on the throne in my heart momentarily will never satisfy me. Only Jesus can. Only Jesus will. And I want my son to know this. I want him to see it so evidently lived out in my life, in my actions, in the way I spend and save money, in the way I value people, and as I intentionally and deliberately pray for God's Kingdom to reign in my life instead of my own. This will not only bring very painful moments where I have to confront his sin, but incredibly humble times I have to confess my own. He doesn't need to think I'm perfect; he needs to know that Jesus is.

This struggle - of seeing my own sin in my son's life - is not going to just disappear. But I'm reminded this morning of the opportunity I have to look at his life, the joy he brings me, the constant laughter he provides everyone around him, the bursts of selfless generosity that come flooding out of him, the passion he has for anything he sets his mind to, and the heart-wrenching love I have in my heart for him, and to remember that I've only seen or experienced but a glimpse of the Father's love for me. And because of the great love of the Father, I now know how to love my son. And now, as I look at him, what I see in my son doesn't have to be my own sin, but that overwhelming, grace-filled, life-changing love of my Savior. Thank You, Jesus.

Where Relationships Begin

This is a post from Karen Walther, our Preschool Minister at The Brook. I hope it challenges & encourages you as it did me. Thanks Karen!

Yesterday I was driving to Atlanta. It’s always nice to be in the car by myself for a long drive because it gives me time to think. Most days I do my thinking in 5 minute increments, which isn’t long enough to finish one thought normally. On the drive I started thinking about the stress times in our home. We have most of our melt-downs and arguments in our mudroom as we try to either enter or leave home. Why is this? 

I think a big part of it is ME. I am a Type-A/task-oriented/organized/structured individual. Add that to three young children who are doing three different things, trying to have three different conversations with me and the outcome is not usually pretty. Big realization on the drive today: I often put my to-do lists and my schedule before a relationship with my children (hanging my head with shame). 

When they get home from school, they have their routines of putting away lunches, book bags, and homework. I try to get this done before they start telling me about their day. WHY? My thinking was that if they get their stuff done, then we can have a nice conversation without anything we need to do pressuring us. In reality, I am squelching their enthusiasm – and our relationship – by not making the time for them and putting my desires first. And that time of uninterrupted, nice conversation…it rarely ends up happening.

My relationship with my children is a common reflection of my relationship with God. I wake up with things already piled on my plate and the race begins. It’s all about my schedule for the day or what I think I need to do. How many times do we ask God what He would like us to do that day? If we took the time to ask, I wonder how differently our days would look. By not looking for a relationship with our Father first thing in the morning, I am squelching our relationship and what He wants to tell me as well.  If we are to have loving, selfless relationships with others, we have to start with a dedicated, passionate, and selfless love for God. This is where relationships begin.

If we are desiring for our children to grow into a passionate relationship with their Father, we have to take our relationship withour Father very seriously. They are watching us. Listening to us. Looking for a difference in our lives. What are your children seeing when they look at you?

The Waiting

In conversation yesterday, a young lady I've known for awhile was sharing with me about some new direction in her life. Looking for a church home and searching for some friends that she could connect with as a Christian, she's felt quite a bit of conflict. While she feels like the Lord has answered some of what she's been asking him for guidance and direction over, in other areas she just seems to be waiting. And waiting some more. She told me, "I've told God, 'I'm listening. Whatever it is you want to tell me - wherever it is you want to lead me - I'm all ears!'." Have you been there before? Have you had this conversation with Him:

Hey God. I'm here. I'm listening. 

And the waiting begins.
And the waiting continues.
And the waiting just seems to go on and on and on.....

Why does the Lord work this way? Why does He choose to speak - or often remain silent - the way He does? If we're open, tuned in, ready and willing to listen and to hear, then why doesn't He crank out the answers or the message? I there's a couple of reasons He chooses to allow the silence to linger.

First off, I think there are times we THINK we're ready for the answer, and we're still miles - maybe even hemispheres - away from actually being willing to submit and follow the direction the Lord places in front of us. Think about it: How many directions and instructions has Christ already placed in front of us that we continually ignore, as if He must have been talking to someone else? Are we telling others about what He's done in our lives? Are we ever inconvenienced from going out of our way to feed the poor or take care of someone's basic needs? Have we done anything to actively and tangibly LOVE our neighbors? Are we faithfully giving to the Church and living generous lives? If no, then how is it we're perplexed when God doesn't deliver further instructions? Check out these verses for more on this subject:

Luke 12:48 (35-48)
If we're not faithful with what we've already been given, why are we struck dumbfounded when we're not given more?

Matthew 7:7-13 
If you're praying for God's will, what if what you're asking isn't actually His will. What if the answer is "No"?

Another possibility as to why God sometimes remains silent - why He doesn't send us the neon sign or the lighted arrow pointing in the direction we're looking for - is because He's aware that as soon as He speaks - as soon as He answers - we'll stop listening. I think there's a reason why God came to Elijah (1 Kings 19) not in the wind or an earthquake or a fire, but in a whisper. He wanted Elijah to listen. And while the instructions He was going to give Elijah - WHAT He was going to tell him to do - was important, God was much more concerned with WHO he was becoming. God speaks to instruct us...but He remains silent to refine us. When we're waiting, He is refining.

This doesn't mean that the waiting and the praying will be any easier, but what an awesome thing to know that God's silence in no way implies God's absence. So don't grow weary from waiting. Don't grow impatient in praying. 
The waiting and praying are refining us.
So keep seeking, knocking, and asking. 
And be ready.

What are you praying for? What are you waiting on God to do?

Be Present.

This week has been heavy. It's funny how the Lord, right after you teach, preach, study, or have some revelation over something will plant it right in your path. As if life is a better teacher. We started the year off at The Brook looking at the story in Mark 4 of Jesus calming the storm and acknowledging the WHEN, not IF, about it in our lives. There's a storm on the horizon. Are we prepared for it? So like I said, this week's been heavy because several people in our church family sailed right into the squall. And what I think the Lord has struck me with is that more often than not we need to be prepared to grab someone else's sail with them - to bear the burden of another - than to walk through our own storm.

Some friends are living part-time in the NICU, praying for their daughter, born Christmas Eve at 25 weeks. (1 lb. 11 oz.) When she arrived it had to seem like Jesus was in the stern of the boat "asleep on the cushion". But He is calming the storm, as we are collectively praying that this little one will be a walking miracle, testifying to His glory and power. PLEASE pray with us for Varissa! Lord, nurture, raise up, and take this little life and use it to bring glory and honor to Your Name!

Another friend was taking her elderly father to an appointment early this week when he suddenly passed away. While he was not in good health, there are certain things you're just never fully prepared for. She was with her dad when he went home to be with the Lord. There's no description for the grief that's somehow wrapped in peace in those moments.

And even another young lady new to our church family found out yesterday that her dad passed away in St. Louis. Storms don't go away. They just subside for awhile. I think they just want to lull us to sleep to see if we'll be seduced by the imaginary horizon.

Here's why I'm writing this. In those moments, we very often are at a loss for words. We don't know what to say. You might think, "I guess this is what pastors are for." WRONG! We often don't know what to say either. None of us are sure if we should send flowers, go by and visit, take them a meal, tell a joke, or shed tears. We don't know how to dress, how to act, or what to say. Yes, Romans 12:15 tells us to "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." And so we do. But we're just not sure if we did it right. And often, our fear, apprehension, and uncertainty leads us to do the one thing that in those moments is simply unthinkable: NOTHING.

When someone you love - someone you care about - is hurting, grieving, mourning, or walking through the struggle, the most important thing you can do is also the most simple thing you can do: BE THERE. BE PRESENT.

Years later, they're not going to remember (or even care) what you wore to their mom's funeral or what it was you cooked for them and brought over. (Can you imagine. 5 years after your dad died. You're all sitting around and your cousin says, "Man! Do you guys remember that cream corn casserole that lady made? WOW!" I don't see it happening.) Most people are not going to remember what you said - as if in the midst of grieving we're all looking for that golden philosophical nugget. They will NOT remember what you said. But they WILL remember that you listened. That you were there - FULLY PRESENT - and available.

Don't misunderstand me; the Lord often gives us a word to heal, comfort, or soothe the aching, ravaged heart. But when the words aren't there, you still can be.

Has the Lord given you an opportunity to BE PRESENT?
Would love to hear about it.