I'm reading a lot these days in the area of external focus, social justice, and the mission of the Church. A lot of what is being written is incredible stuff, and it's neat to see my generation attempting to help put our hands and feet where our mouth is when it comes to issues of faith. That isn't a tension the Church has held well in the past and I'm optimistic that my generation could do better. Unfortunately, I'm also worried that we'll simply swing the pendulum back to another side.
A lot of what I'm reading today talks about social justice as a part of the "Gospel." Richard Stearns' book "Hole in Our Gospel" is a popular example. Writers warn about "bifurcating the Gospel;" that is, dividing the Gospel of the Kingdom (Matthew 24:14) from the Gospel of Jesus' death and resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:1-8). The Gospel of the Kingdom is the "good news" of the promised kingdom in which Jesus will reign in righteousness and justice and the creation will be restored to what God intended it to be: justice will be served, the poor won't be poor, violence will be no longer, etc... The Gospel of Jesus' death and resurrection is that because of Jesus' death on the cross you can be reconciled to God personally.
Stearns (and many, many others) argue that you can't separate the two. The Good News of Jesus' death and resurrection is inseparable from the Good News that Jesus is King and the world (through you) should reflect that. This leads to the conclusion (or at least implication) that if a person is not tangibly reflecting the Kingdom, they aren't trusting the Gospel and aren't going to heaven.
However, we have to be very, very, very careful that we don't just assume when the Bible says "gospel" it's always talking about the same good news. The word doesn't seem to be that specialized.
Plus, some degree of "bifurcation" is necessary. The message of the Kingdom is not good news until after you've trusted the message of Jesus' death and resurrection on your behalf. In fact, the news that the King of the Universe is going to rule on David's throne and judge in perfect righteousness and justice is terrible news if you are on the wrong side of justice. If you're a traitor, the message of the Kingdom is the worst possible news you could receive.
Until you're rightly related to God, the message of the Kingdom isn't "good news" at all. Once you've believed the Gospel of Jesus' death and resurrection, the message of the Kingdom is great news. But they're different messages we can't afford to get scrambled.
Forgiveness and 9-11
The cross is the standard for Christian forgiveness. Our inability to meet that standard of forgiveness proves we need it too.
The men who flew planes into the World Trade Center towers, Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania were wicked, evil, godless fools who perpetrated an unspeakable act against people created in the image of God. As I watched the non-stop television coverage on the anniversary of the terrorist attacks yesterday I found anger that had been suppressed for a decade somehow rekindled inside of me.
Surely there is a stopping-point for the kinds of people God legitimately expects us to forgive, right?
Right.
Matthew 18:21-35 is pretty clear. Jesus only expects us to forgive to the degree that He has forgiven. Beyond that, we're not responsible.
In Luke 23:34, Jesus Himself models forgiveness. He forgives the Roman soldiers who spit in the face of God Himself while He slowly suffocated to death on a cross. As heinous as 9-11 was, it's not even a blip on the radar screen of heinous compared with what Jesus was willing to forgive just minutes before He died.
Of course, forgiveness like that isn't realistic for you or me. It doesn't seem possible for me to erase the debt of those depraved lunatics who commandeered jets and killed thousands of innocent people.
And that very fact should remind me that I need forgiveness too. I need a Savior too. My inability to live-up to Jesus' example of forgiveness only highlights the gap between Him and me. And when we're talking about an infinite God, an infinite gap puts me a lot closer on the scale to the people I despise than to the God I aspire to be like...
Commit to Answering, not Specific Answers
It's a foregone conclusion that the world is changing at a rapid pace. Culture changes, trends change, philosophies change, needs change... Organizations need to change too.
One of the things I notice about leaders who navigate change effectively is that they commit to answering the right questions but they don't sell out indefinitely to a specific answer.
For example, take the question: "How can we get someone from one place to another as efficiently and effectively as possible?" In the late 1800s, the best answer to the question was "horseback." But organizations that sold out to that specific answer were left in the dust once Mr. Ford's Model T came around in 1908.
Organizations that made it were the organizations who stayed committed to answering the question. Organizations that failed to make it were the organizations who stayed committed to their specific answer.
We've got to be good at asking the right questions, even when we are confident that the answer hasn't changed. Because with most of the things we do, someday the answer will change. The question won't change; the need won't change; the reason for an answer won't change; but the specific way we answer the question might, and we need to be ready.
Managing Misses
If you know me at all, you know I love to play golf. I'm not much of a golfer; I need to play more and am confident I could get there.
Even still, over the past few years I've taken golf lessons with a guy I met through a mutual friend. He's helped the fundamentals of my swing a little bit but has helped the fundamentals of my thinking a lot. He has helped me approach shots differently, and think-through every hole differently. As a result my golf scores are starting to really improve.
One of the big things he says on a regular basis is that "Golf is not about playing great shots. It's about managing your misses." The other day I heard someone quote Jack Nicklaus who said in a great round he only hits the ball exactly like he hoped 6 or 8 times (less than 10 percent of the time), and he's the greatest golfer to have ever lived.
A lesson I'm learning about leadership (especially senior-level leadership) is that the great leaders I know function in a very similar way.
There are very few perfect decisions because there are no perfect leaders and very few perfect scenarios. All decisions have collateral effects, not all of which are expected and not all of which are enjoyable. Leaders rarely have all the information they need to make flawless decisions when they need to make them, and rarely have the ability to pull off the "shot" that looks exactly like the shot they imagined in their mind.
Leadership is not about hitting perfect "shots." It's about putting yourself in a position to manage your misses.
You have to hit shots in such a way that they're able to be great, but not catastrophic if you miss. Shots with a catastrophic downside are rarely worth taking - you can't recover from them.
You'll live an awfully discouraged life if you try to lead perfectly.The great leaders I know don't make exclusively perfect decision. In fact, they rarely make perfect decisions. Instead, they're able to string together a bunch of manageable misses that move them forward effectively.
Even still, over the past few years I've taken golf lessons with a guy I met through a mutual friend. He's helped the fundamentals of my swing a little bit but has helped the fundamentals of my thinking a lot. He has helped me approach shots differently, and think-through every hole differently. As a result my golf scores are starting to really improve.
One of the big things he says on a regular basis is that "Golf is not about playing great shots. It's about managing your misses." The other day I heard someone quote Jack Nicklaus who said in a great round he only hits the ball exactly like he hoped 6 or 8 times (less than 10 percent of the time), and he's the greatest golfer to have ever lived.
A lesson I'm learning about leadership (especially senior-level leadership) is that the great leaders I know function in a very similar way.
There are very few perfect decisions because there are no perfect leaders and very few perfect scenarios. All decisions have collateral effects, not all of which are expected and not all of which are enjoyable. Leaders rarely have all the information they need to make flawless decisions when they need to make them, and rarely have the ability to pull off the "shot" that looks exactly like the shot they imagined in their mind.
Leadership is not about hitting perfect "shots." It's about putting yourself in a position to manage your misses.
You have to hit shots in such a way that they're able to be great, but not catastrophic if you miss. Shots with a catastrophic downside are rarely worth taking - you can't recover from them.
You'll live an awfully discouraged life if you try to lead perfectly.The great leaders I know don't make exclusively perfect decision. In fact, they rarely make perfect decisions. Instead, they're able to string together a bunch of manageable misses that move them forward effectively.
Prosperity Gospel Testimonies
If you've spent much time in an evangelical church, you have probably been trained on how to share your "story." We teach people how to tell their story of faith in a way that allows the Gospel to be clear so that someone else could hear about what Jesus Christ has done in our life and think about their own response to the Gospel. No question, it's an incredible way to share your faith.
But (and I include myself in this), we need to be more careful how we train people to share their story.
The normal parameters for a person's story are these:
1. Tell about your life before you trusted Christ.
2. Tell how you trusted Christ.
3. Tell how your life has changed.
The problem I have as I think more about it is with the third step. Because we want people to be compelled to trust Christ through our story, the temptation is to load-up the third part of our story with all the incredible things that happened after we put our faith in Jesus. After we trusted Christ, we stopped smoking cold turkey, stopped cussing on the golf course, stopped reacting in anger against our employees, and experienced peace and joy that we'd never experienced before. The sky started raining lemon drops and gumdrops, and our home life was instantly transformed into a 1950s television show.
The problem is, in doing so we inadvertently preach a prosperity gospel to people, causing them to make assumptions that aren't true. Sometimes after you trust Christ, bad habits don't automatically go away. Sometimes after you trust Christ your family still falls apart. Sometimes after you trust Christ your friends abandon you, or you get sick, or you lose your life-savings in a bad investment you prayed hard about.
Trusting Christ doesn't ensure that your life will instantly get better, or even that it will trend better (in purely experiential terms) over the long-haul. You don't have to read the New Testament very long to recognize that sometimes life gets harder.
We've got to go deeper in our stories and stop treating them like bad infomercials.
We don't want to rock the boat in the other direction either. The doom-and-gloom gospel isn't any more honest than the prosperity gospel. The hope of the gospel isn't simply that it improves our day-to-day circumstances. It's that it recasts those circumstances whether good or bad in light of eternity so that our response to those experiences springs-up from hope that is found somewhere outside what happens to us (Colossians 1:5).
The Gospel is compelling on its own. We don't have to spin a positive story to make it more compelling. In reality, when we do that we make the Gospel less compelling because we promise something that doesn't always deliver on the back-end.
Funerals are Mandatory
Three years ago I made a post about how I believe funerals should be mandatory for leaders. It's something Rudy Giuliani talks about in his book on leadership.
Anyone can be there when times are good; it takes a leader to show up when times are rough. But as I continue to attend funerals, I'm increasingly convinced that the primary benefactor of a funeral is the leader; not the people he leads.
Maybe it's morbid and weird, but there's something about a funeral that re-calibrates you.
Sometimes funerals can be encouraging. Nobody remembers your small mistakes - the ones you stew about all day - after you're gone.
Sometimes funerals are stimulating. They help us think about what people will remember about us. Will we be remembered for a lasting contribution to the lives of others, or will people only tell funny stories about us? Will it be obvious that people are searching for anecdotal stories to fill the time, or will it be obvious that they've been forced to condense because of the legacy of a life-well-lived?
I know it's a morbid topic, but if you've got half a reason to go to a funeral you really should go.
Anyone can be there when times are good; it takes a leader to show up when times are rough. But as I continue to attend funerals, I'm increasingly convinced that the primary benefactor of a funeral is the leader; not the people he leads.
Maybe it's morbid and weird, but there's something about a funeral that re-calibrates you.
Sometimes funerals can be encouraging. Nobody remembers your small mistakes - the ones you stew about all day - after you're gone.
Sometimes funerals are stimulating. They help us think about what people will remember about us. Will we be remembered for a lasting contribution to the lives of others, or will people only tell funny stories about us? Will it be obvious that people are searching for anecdotal stories to fill the time, or will it be obvious that they've been forced to condense because of the legacy of a life-well-lived?
I know it's a morbid topic, but if you've got half a reason to go to a funeral you really should go.
Interconnected Systems
I just finished "Leading Change
" by John Kotter. It's a fantastic book for leaders who are attempting to help their organizations be better in fundamental ways.
In the book, Kotter talks about the difference between leading change in unconnected and interconnected systems. His insight is brilliant.
Imagine walking into your office and deciding you're ready for some change. Probably, you'll do it on your own. Shift the desk from one side of the office to the other side, take down a picture and use a hammer to nail a new picture on a different wall, move the bookshelves from one place to another. And by the end of the day, you'll be able to look at your office and say, "Wow. That looks better."
That's an "unconnected system." And, it's the kind of change most leaders have led successfully throughout their leadership.
Now, imagine walking into the same office for the same project, only now the bookshelves are connected to the desk with steel cables. The pictures are tied to the books on the shelf. Tables and chairs have wires attaching them together, and they're connected to the desk and the bookshelves.
That's an "interconnected system." It's the kind of change that's extraordinarily difficult for leaders and for those he leads.
The leader thinks he's simply moving the desk. Everyone in the office knows the desk needs to move. But when he moves the desk, the books fall off the bookshelf and everyone (including the leader) is surprised. Everyone knows the picture needs to go but can't figure out why nobody can seem to get the picture to budge from the wall.
Leading change within an interconnected system is tough work. The end-result is this: You'll likely have to change things that aren't intuitive to everyone in order to keep the bookshelves from falling over; expend more energy than your team initially expected; and make more changes than you imagined at first. It's tough, but it's the only way to the office everyone dreams of.
Have you experienced this? What other insight would you add to Kotter's discussion of interconnected systems?
" by John Kotter. It's a fantastic book for leaders who are attempting to help their organizations be better in fundamental ways.In the book, Kotter talks about the difference between leading change in unconnected and interconnected systems. His insight is brilliant.
Imagine walking into your office and deciding you're ready for some change. Probably, you'll do it on your own. Shift the desk from one side of the office to the other side, take down a picture and use a hammer to nail a new picture on a different wall, move the bookshelves from one place to another. And by the end of the day, you'll be able to look at your office and say, "Wow. That looks better."
That's an "unconnected system." And, it's the kind of change most leaders have led successfully throughout their leadership.
Now, imagine walking into the same office for the same project, only now the bookshelves are connected to the desk with steel cables. The pictures are tied to the books on the shelf. Tables and chairs have wires attaching them together, and they're connected to the desk and the bookshelves.
That's an "interconnected system." It's the kind of change that's extraordinarily difficult for leaders and for those he leads.
The leader thinks he's simply moving the desk. Everyone in the office knows the desk needs to move. But when he moves the desk, the books fall off the bookshelf and everyone (including the leader) is surprised. Everyone knows the picture needs to go but can't figure out why nobody can seem to get the picture to budge from the wall.
Leading change within an interconnected system is tough work. The end-result is this: You'll likely have to change things that aren't intuitive to everyone in order to keep the bookshelves from falling over; expend more energy than your team initially expected; and make more changes than you imagined at first. It's tough, but it's the only way to the office everyone dreams of.
Have you experienced this? What other insight would you add to Kotter's discussion of interconnected systems?
Bridge or Destination?
One of the conversations our staff is having a bunch these days: Is this program a bridge or a destination?
Churches are notorious for creating programs to meet specific needs at specific times but with very little long-term clarity about how the program fits within the overall purpose of the church. That kind of lack of clarity leads to bloated budgets, overwhelmed staff, confusion of purpose, untouchable sacred cows, and programs that no longer accomplish what they were designed to accomplish.
From my perspective, programs need to be either bridges or destinations.
Bridges have the singular goal of helping a person span from one destination to another. You don't live on a bridge. They're utilitarian. As a result, you can tell whether or not a bridge is working by figuring out whether or not the people who get on the bridge exit the bridge in the place the bridge was designed to take them. If they get stuck on the bridge, fall off the bridge, or end up in the wrong place, you might want to examine your bridge.
Destinations are the places you land. You stick there and live for long periods of your life. You shouldn't need many destinations because destinations should sustain life fairly well. You can tell whether or not a destination is working by looking at how frequently someone has to hop on a bridge to get their legitimate needs met at another destination.
Would you build a house in a place where you had to drive long distances on a regular basis to get your basic needs met? Where you had to drive across one bridge to get groceries, cross another bridge to get to the doctor, cross two bridges to buy clothes, and another bridge to go to the restroom, and another two bridges to return to your home? Of course not - you would spend your whole life in the car.
Unfortunately, a lot of churches do this to people all the time. We create hundreds programs, each designed to provide a single basic discipleship need for people. We've got hundreds of bridges that go in hundreds of directions toward hundreds of destinations. Then we wonder why our churches aren't knocking the ball out of the park when it comes to disciple-making. People can't navigate our systems and don't want to live there anyway. So, they pick and choose the bridges and destinations that are closest and ignore the rest.
We've got to be more strategic at asking fundamental questions before we start a new program: If it's a bridge, is it the most strategic bridge to get people where they're going? If it's a destination, do we really want people to live here?
Churches are notorious for creating programs to meet specific needs at specific times but with very little long-term clarity about how the program fits within the overall purpose of the church. That kind of lack of clarity leads to bloated budgets, overwhelmed staff, confusion of purpose, untouchable sacred cows, and programs that no longer accomplish what they were designed to accomplish.
From my perspective, programs need to be either bridges or destinations.
Bridges have the singular goal of helping a person span from one destination to another. You don't live on a bridge. They're utilitarian. As a result, you can tell whether or not a bridge is working by figuring out whether or not the people who get on the bridge exit the bridge in the place the bridge was designed to take them. If they get stuck on the bridge, fall off the bridge, or end up in the wrong place, you might want to examine your bridge.
Destinations are the places you land. You stick there and live for long periods of your life. You shouldn't need many destinations because destinations should sustain life fairly well. You can tell whether or not a destination is working by looking at how frequently someone has to hop on a bridge to get their legitimate needs met at another destination.
Would you build a house in a place where you had to drive long distances on a regular basis to get your basic needs met? Where you had to drive across one bridge to get groceries, cross another bridge to get to the doctor, cross two bridges to buy clothes, and another bridge to go to the restroom, and another two bridges to return to your home? Of course not - you would spend your whole life in the car.
Unfortunately, a lot of churches do this to people all the time. We create hundreds programs, each designed to provide a single basic discipleship need for people. We've got hundreds of bridges that go in hundreds of directions toward hundreds of destinations. Then we wonder why our churches aren't knocking the ball out of the park when it comes to disciple-making. People can't navigate our systems and don't want to live there anyway. So, they pick and choose the bridges and destinations that are closest and ignore the rest.
We've got to be more strategic at asking fundamental questions before we start a new program: If it's a bridge, is it the most strategic bridge to get people where they're going? If it's a destination, do we really want people to live here?
Something...
On my "to do" list for the last two weeks has been, "blog something." So here it is.
I've been completely under water with some classwork I'm finishing up and some neat things at church so the blog has suffered. I'm committed to getting back on the horse - blogging is too important to me for several reasons.
We've got a big Vision night for leaders this Saturday and then a neat Sunday - baptizing somewhere around 30 people this week. I'll be back in the saddle next Monday.
I've been completely under water with some classwork I'm finishing up and some neat things at church so the blog has suffered. I'm committed to getting back on the horse - blogging is too important to me for several reasons.
We've got a big Vision night for leaders this Saturday and then a neat Sunday - baptizing somewhere around 30 people this week. I'll be back in the saddle next Monday.
Small Improvement to a Big Overhaul
I read this quote the other day by Robert E. Kelly in "How to Be A Star at Work.
"
"Star performers do small day to day self improvements that add up over time. Roof raising impact seldom happen without a long string of smaller efforts preceding them."
It's not just true in work; it's true in life. Small changes every day add up, and often last much longer than grandiose overhauls. If you decide you want to be a Bible reader, your best bet is to commit to a small change in your routine today: get up 5 minutes earlier and read a chapter of the Bible before you get out of bed. Add 5 minutes and 1 chapter every month and by the end of the year you'll be reading your Bible for an hour every day and on track to read through the Bible somewhere around 3 1/2 times per year.
Decide tomorrow that you're going to start waking up an hour early every morning to read 12 chapters of the Bible, and you'll be lucky to make it a week.
If you're looking to grow in an area, small tweaks over a relatively short amount of time can really pay off.
""Star performers do small day to day self improvements that add up over time. Roof raising impact seldom happen without a long string of smaller efforts preceding them."
It's not just true in work; it's true in life. Small changes every day add up, and often last much longer than grandiose overhauls. If you decide you want to be a Bible reader, your best bet is to commit to a small change in your routine today: get up 5 minutes earlier and read a chapter of the Bible before you get out of bed. Add 5 minutes and 1 chapter every month and by the end of the year you'll be reading your Bible for an hour every day and on track to read through the Bible somewhere around 3 1/2 times per year.
Decide tomorrow that you're going to start waking up an hour early every morning to read 12 chapters of the Bible, and you'll be lucky to make it a week.
If you're looking to grow in an area, small tweaks over a relatively short amount of time can really pay off.
Vision and Direction
One of the most difficult things for a leader is clarifying vision or direction for the group she leads.
The leader lives with the vision for a long time before he begins to go public. At that point, he sees all the interconnected parts and can be tempted to assume others will innately see those things as well. By that point, the vision is patently obvious to him - it's frustrating when it isn't patently obvious to everyone else.
If your team isn't "getting" your vision, it could be a problem with the way you are communicating the vision. It might be a problem with the vision itself. And it could be a problem with the person you are trying to lead.
Two-thirds of the problems with helping vision stick are the fault of the leader. Only one third is the problem of the people we lead. Yet in my experience, leaders tend to blame others the majority of the time.
"They weren't paying attention."
"They have different instincts."
"They aren't a team player."
"They are pulling in a different direction."
At least two-thirds of the time it's not "their" fault. Assume first that it's a problem with your leadership. Assume they want to follow you if you'll lead them clearly. Rule out a flaw in your leadership before you bank on a problem with someone's followership. When you play the odds, it is usually to your benefit.
The leader lives with the vision for a long time before he begins to go public. At that point, he sees all the interconnected parts and can be tempted to assume others will innately see those things as well. By that point, the vision is patently obvious to him - it's frustrating when it isn't patently obvious to everyone else.
If your team isn't "getting" your vision, it could be a problem with the way you are communicating the vision. It might be a problem with the vision itself. And it could be a problem with the person you are trying to lead.
Two-thirds of the problems with helping vision stick are the fault of the leader. Only one third is the problem of the people we lead. Yet in my experience, leaders tend to blame others the majority of the time.
"They weren't paying attention."
"They have different instincts."
"They aren't a team player."
"They are pulling in a different direction."
At least two-thirds of the time it's not "their" fault. Assume first that it's a problem with your leadership. Assume they want to follow you if you'll lead them clearly. Rule out a flaw in your leadership before you bank on a problem with someone's followership. When you play the odds, it is usually to your benefit.
The Error of the "But"
As you might expect, I've had a few conversations about Rob Bell's recent book "Love Wins." Yes, I read it several months ago and will review it one of these days when my anger subsides.
However, in the meantime, I hear an opposite error from many people who want to critique Bell's theology that I think is also dangerous.
From time to time, while pointing out the fallacy of saying that if love "wins," hell can't exist, I hear people remind each other that "God is loving but He is also just."
It's a subtle error, but often subtle errors are sometimes just as catastrophic as the more obvious kind.
When we are talking about the perfections of God, Justice and love aren't opposites; they exist together.
If love is defined from a purely human standpoint, love and justice do contrast; but God doesn't define love by our romanticized, erotic, and selfish perspective. He defines love at the cross (1 John 4:10). The cross is the place where love and justice intersect. The Father loves us so much He sent His Son to die for us.The Father is so concerned about justice that He sent His Son to die for us.
If God is not just, He can not be loving. If God is not loving, He need not be just. If God's love doesn't demand His justice, Jesus' death goes down as the greatest overreaction in all of history.
When you set the two up as a contrast, you end up with the same heresy Bell does; you just come at it from a different side. When God's justice and love are separated from one another, you end up with neither justice or love... exactly where Bell ends up.
It isn't that God is just but also loving; it's that God is just and also loving.
However, in the meantime, I hear an opposite error from many people who want to critique Bell's theology that I think is also dangerous.
From time to time, while pointing out the fallacy of saying that if love "wins," hell can't exist, I hear people remind each other that "God is loving but He is also just."
It's a subtle error, but often subtle errors are sometimes just as catastrophic as the more obvious kind.
When we are talking about the perfections of God, Justice and love aren't opposites; they exist together.
If love is defined from a purely human standpoint, love and justice do contrast; but God doesn't define love by our romanticized, erotic, and selfish perspective. He defines love at the cross (1 John 4:10). The cross is the place where love and justice intersect. The Father loves us so much He sent His Son to die for us.The Father is so concerned about justice that He sent His Son to die for us.
If God is not just, He can not be loving. If God is not loving, He need not be just. If God's love doesn't demand His justice, Jesus' death goes down as the greatest overreaction in all of history.
When you set the two up as a contrast, you end up with the same heresy Bell does; you just come at it from a different side. When God's justice and love are separated from one another, you end up with neither justice or love... exactly where Bell ends up.
It isn't that God is just but also loving; it's that God is just and also loving.
Why I'm Not Posting
I'm finishing up my doctoral classwork this week and next. Through preparing for it, preparing to preach a couple of sermons even though I'm out of the office, and living in new house where (it seems) the World Wide Web doesn't stretch to our world, the blog was the casualty.
I'll get back once I get the canoe turned back over...
I'll get back once I get the canoe turned back over...
The Gospel is for Everyone
One of the gigantic misconceptions I lived with for a good deal of my life was that the Gospel, the death and resurrection of Christ, was something only the unbeliever needed to respond to. I grew up in a tradition that made that much clear - if you hadn't trusted Christ you needed to trust Him for everlasting life. But I got the impression that the believer had little use for the Gospel except to learn how to share it with an unbeliever.
That understanding began to change in college, and now it's very different. I don't preach at a "seeker" church, but every single Sunday my goal is to see every single person respond to the Gospel. Some respond for the very first time and cross from death to life in our services. Some respond to the gospel again, not so they can have life forever (they already have that); they trust Christ for life for now.
To put it a more theological way, whether we're talking about "justification" or "sanctification," being saved from the penalty of sin forever or being saved from the power of sin today, the object of our trust is always the same: the death and resurrection of Christ.
Paul makes this really clear.
What does the believing husband need? He needs to respond to the Gospel and love his wife like Jesus loved Him (Ephesians 5:25-33). If Jesus really died and rose from the dead for him, it should motivate him to respond by loving his wife differently.
What does the believing person who struggles with anxiety need? She needs to respond to the Gospel and trust that the very worst thing that could happen will never happen because Jesus died and rose from the dead so that her life would never face utter destruction (2 Corinthians 5:1-10).
What does the believer who struggles with insecurity need? To respond to the fact that Jesus' death and resurrection provides humanity with a chance for a new identity hidden "in Christ" so that redemption, adoption, inclusion, and a guarantee from the Spirit are our present-tense possession (Ephesians 1:1-14).
Paul tells believers "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, so walk in Him" (Colossians 2:6). How did you receive Him? By grace, through faith, in the Gospel.
The Gospel isn't just something elementary that we trust to get out of hell and then grow out of. It's Truth that demands our response in every single situation we face.
That understanding began to change in college, and now it's very different. I don't preach at a "seeker" church, but every single Sunday my goal is to see every single person respond to the Gospel. Some respond for the very first time and cross from death to life in our services. Some respond to the gospel again, not so they can have life forever (they already have that); they trust Christ for life for now.
To put it a more theological way, whether we're talking about "justification" or "sanctification," being saved from the penalty of sin forever or being saved from the power of sin today, the object of our trust is always the same: the death and resurrection of Christ.
Paul makes this really clear.
What does the believing husband need? He needs to respond to the Gospel and love his wife like Jesus loved Him (Ephesians 5:25-33). If Jesus really died and rose from the dead for him, it should motivate him to respond by loving his wife differently.
What does the believing person who struggles with anxiety need? She needs to respond to the Gospel and trust that the very worst thing that could happen will never happen because Jesus died and rose from the dead so that her life would never face utter destruction (2 Corinthians 5:1-10).
What does the believer who struggles with insecurity need? To respond to the fact that Jesus' death and resurrection provides humanity with a chance for a new identity hidden "in Christ" so that redemption, adoption, inclusion, and a guarantee from the Spirit are our present-tense possession (Ephesians 1:1-14).
Paul tells believers "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, so walk in Him" (Colossians 2:6). How did you receive Him? By grace, through faith, in the Gospel.
The Gospel isn't just something elementary that we trust to get out of hell and then grow out of. It's Truth that demands our response in every single situation we face.
Good Theology, Bad Application
I've been reading through the book of Job recently. Something strikes me about Job's friends.
If you're at all familiar with the story of Job, you're probably familiar with his "friends" Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar, who fit firmly in the "With Friends Like These Who Needs Enemies?" category. These guys are convinced that Job has sinned and that Job's troubles are God's discipline. So, they do what any good "friend" does when you're suffering: launch into long sermons giving you a well-thought-out rationale for why you're suffering.
What's amazing as you read these guys, however, is that their mini-sermons almost all begin with extremely good theology. They accurately portray God's sovereignty, holiness, power, and inability to make mistakes. The problem is with their application of good theology.
We normally read the story of Job to learn how to suffer well from Job's example. But a lot of us (myself included) could stand to read the story of Job to learn the danger of really good theology misapplied.
We're clear on God's sovereignty, and use it for an excuse to be passive in evangelism.
We're clear on God's omnipotence, and use it for an excuse to neglect needs we could meet.
We're clear on God's immanence (nearness), and use it for an excuse to treat Him casually, as if He were our "homeboy."
We're clear on God's grace, and use it as license to sin.
We're clear on God's holiness, and use it as an excuse to be mean.
When good theology is applied badly, it can be just as damaging as if we led with bad theology in the first place.
If you're at all familiar with the story of Job, you're probably familiar with his "friends" Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar, who fit firmly in the "With Friends Like These Who Needs Enemies?" category. These guys are convinced that Job has sinned and that Job's troubles are God's discipline. So, they do what any good "friend" does when you're suffering: launch into long sermons giving you a well-thought-out rationale for why you're suffering.
What's amazing as you read these guys, however, is that their mini-sermons almost all begin with extremely good theology. They accurately portray God's sovereignty, holiness, power, and inability to make mistakes. The problem is with their application of good theology.
We normally read the story of Job to learn how to suffer well from Job's example. But a lot of us (myself included) could stand to read the story of Job to learn the danger of really good theology misapplied.
We're clear on God's sovereignty, and use it for an excuse to be passive in evangelism.
We're clear on God's omnipotence, and use it for an excuse to neglect needs we could meet.
We're clear on God's immanence (nearness), and use it for an excuse to treat Him casually, as if He were our "homeboy."
We're clear on God's grace, and use it as license to sin.
We're clear on God's holiness, and use it as an excuse to be mean.
When good theology is applied badly, it can be just as damaging as if we led with bad theology in the first place.
Cynics and Skeptics
One of the leadership lessons I continue to learn is the difference between cynics and skeptics, and how to deal with both.
When a leader is passionate about something, opposition or criticism of any kind is hard to take. Too often, when we receive push-back - especially strong push-back - we immediately assume the source of the criticism is a cynic and seek ways to marginalize him. This kind of response only betrays our arrogance and often prevents us from hearing feedback that could help us lead better.
Cynics are people who have a "no" posture. They begin trying to figure out why they're against what you're proposing before a conversation has begun. They know they're against whatever it is you're doing - they just haven't figured out why yet. Cynics often feels as though they're the most important person in the organization. It's their self-given role to keep the leader "humble," or "in line." They're not interested in moving forward; they're interested in being right at someone else's expense.
It's in the organization's best interest to run cynics off (or marginalize them) as quickly as possible. They don't add value, only division; chipping away at the foundation of the organization one objection at a time.
Skeptics are late adopters. They take a long time to warm-up to ideas and are often difficult to convince. They often give a lot of push-back, but for very different reasons. Skeptics work from a "caution first" posture. They want to be convinced, they're just not yet. But if they ever are convinced, they'll become the biggest champion for your idea.
It's in the leader's best interest to have at least one or two trusted advisors who are skeptics. Unlike the cynic, the skeptic is for the leader and the organization. They can keep a leader from running too fast, too far, or in the wrong direction. They often (not always) will shine light on the leader's blind-spot and help him consider perspectives he might not see on his own. If nothing else, they will help the leader shape communication to take various perspectives into account.
The challenge for leaders is this: it's far too easy to mistake skeptics for cynics.
When a leader is passionate about something, opposition or criticism of any kind is hard to take. Too often, when we receive push-back - especially strong push-back - we immediately assume the source of the criticism is a cynic and seek ways to marginalize him. This kind of response only betrays our arrogance and often prevents us from hearing feedback that could help us lead better.
Be on the lookout for cynics and root them out. They'll kill your organization. But beware of giving someone the "Cynic Tag" too soon. You might marginalize someone who could have helped you go further, faster, while accumulating a lot fewer scars in the process.
Resting
I've always been fascinated by the Creation account of the fact that God rested on the seventh day (Genesis 2:2-3).
Was God tired? Did creation wear God out? Did He need a nap after a long, hard week at work?
Of course not. Never mind the fact that God doesn't get tired (Isaiah 40:8), Genesis says that God simply spoke things into existence. He didn't exactly tax Himself creating the universe.
So why did He rest?
Not because He was tired; because He was satisfied. God was able to rest because He was satisfied with the work He had done. It was very good (Genesis 1:31). He was done.
Which makes it all the more interesting that humanity is later called to follow God's model of resting (Genesis 2:3; Exodus 20:8-11).
I don't think God was calling the Israelites to rest because their bodies needed the break. He wasn't establishing (much to my dismay) an unusually high value on naps. The motivation for God's rest wasn't fatigue, it was satisfaction. I think He calls people to do the same thing.
That's the point the Pharisees missed (Matthew 12:1-8). They thought the point was simply rest from something. Jesus pointed out that the Sabbath principle was more about resting in something... or rather in Someone.
See, our work is never done like God's was. Whatever work we do, there is no way to completely rest because we have everything like we want it.
To use myself as an example: I am never satisfied that a sermon is ready to preach. Preaching always feels premature. But every week I pick one day (usually Saturday) that I do everything within my power to not think about a sermon. It's a discipline of worship for me where every week I knowingly, willingly, consciously remind myself that I can be satisfied in the God of creation. If He doesn't go before me on Sunday, the message will fail whether or not I work on it Saturday or not.
I'm never satisfied with my "creation," but choose to rest from my work on Saturday because (thanks to Jesus) God is satisfied in His. My rest is a reflection of the fact that I'm satisfied in Him.
What about you? What do you need to rest from so you can rest in the Creator God?
Was God tired? Did creation wear God out? Did He need a nap after a long, hard week at work?
Of course not. Never mind the fact that God doesn't get tired (Isaiah 40:8), Genesis says that God simply spoke things into existence. He didn't exactly tax Himself creating the universe.
So why did He rest?
Not because He was tired; because He was satisfied. God was able to rest because He was satisfied with the work He had done. It was very good (Genesis 1:31). He was done.
Which makes it all the more interesting that humanity is later called to follow God's model of resting (Genesis 2:3; Exodus 20:8-11).
I don't think God was calling the Israelites to rest because their bodies needed the break. He wasn't establishing (much to my dismay) an unusually high value on naps. The motivation for God's rest wasn't fatigue, it was satisfaction. I think He calls people to do the same thing.
That's the point the Pharisees missed (Matthew 12:1-8). They thought the point was simply rest from something. Jesus pointed out that the Sabbath principle was more about resting in something... or rather in Someone.
See, our work is never done like God's was. Whatever work we do, there is no way to completely rest because we have everything like we want it.
To use myself as an example: I am never satisfied that a sermon is ready to preach. Preaching always feels premature. But every week I pick one day (usually Saturday) that I do everything within my power to not think about a sermon. It's a discipline of worship for me where every week I knowingly, willingly, consciously remind myself that I can be satisfied in the God of creation. If He doesn't go before me on Sunday, the message will fail whether or not I work on it Saturday or not.
I'm never satisfied with my "creation," but choose to rest from my work on Saturday because (thanks to Jesus) God is satisfied in His. My rest is a reflection of the fact that I'm satisfied in Him.
What about you? What do you need to rest from so you can rest in the Creator God?
One of the things Dave Browning mentions in the book "Deliberate Simplicity
" is the difference between the "outreach church" and the "seeker church." I think it's a helpful distinction and Browning goes on to clarify what he means:
" is the difference between the "outreach church" and the "seeker church." I think it's a helpful distinction and Browning goes on to clarify what he means:Both the seeker church and the outreach church believe that a bridge needs to be built between God and the lost. They just start building that bridge at different sides of the chasm.
I think it's an extraordinarily helpful, and important, distinction.
Celebrating
One of the things we're working hard on at McKinney is doing a better job celebrating the incredible things God is doing.
When you create a culture of celebration, you tend to do more of those things and you establish constant reminders that God is at work even though we don't always see Him working. Celebrations are like the little tick marks on a growth chart that remind you you're making progress even when you don't feel any different.
So, we're trying to do a better job celebrating everything; from stories of how God is working in individual lives to corporate "wins" that represent God's provision for our entire church.
I've learned that people (all of us) have to be coached and reminded of both how and what to celebrate. So, we're working on that.
One of our big goals was articulated pretty well by our Executive Pastor the other day: We want to be better at celebrating conversions than touchdowns.
For a church in Texas, that would be a monumental achievement.
When you create a culture of celebration, you tend to do more of those things and you establish constant reminders that God is at work even though we don't always see Him working. Celebrations are like the little tick marks on a growth chart that remind you you're making progress even when you don't feel any different.
So, we're trying to do a better job celebrating everything; from stories of how God is working in individual lives to corporate "wins" that represent God's provision for our entire church.
I've learned that people (all of us) have to be coached and reminded of both how and what to celebrate. So, we're working on that.
One of our big goals was articulated pretty well by our Executive Pastor the other day: We want to be better at celebrating conversions than touchdowns.
For a church in Texas, that would be a monumental achievement.
Complexity and Focus
We're talking a lot about complexity and focus as a church staff. The more focused things are, in general, the more power they have. Light, for example, is useful when it's diffused but when it is focused a person can use light to cut diamonds. Water, to use another example, is useful in your swimming pool but if that same water is highly focused, it can cut steel.
As churches, we often fall into the trap of believing power is in acquisition. The more ministries and opportunities we acquire, the more power we will see.
But that's not the way it works. In my observation, power (obviously, from a human standpoint here) is not in acquisition; it's in concentration.
The deception of acquisition is that the busier we are, the better we feel like things are going. Unfortunately, my experience is that the busier things are... the busier things are. Busyness is not an accurate metric for success.
If you're a part of a busy church, you might ask yourself some questions before you acquire anything else:
The last question is a much harder question than it looks like on the front-end.
Power is in focus and concentration, not in acquisition. If you acquire new ministries and opportunities without a great deal of care, you'll end up top-heavy and spend so much time chasing your institutional tail that you'll have a hard time realizing what you're hoping to see.
As churches, we often fall into the trap of believing power is in acquisition. The more ministries and opportunities we acquire, the more power we will see.
But that's not the way it works. In my observation, power (obviously, from a human standpoint here) is not in acquisition; it's in concentration.
The deception of acquisition is that the busier we are, the better we feel like things are going. Unfortunately, my experience is that the busier things are... the busier things are. Busyness is not an accurate metric for success.
If you're a part of a busy church, you might ask yourself some questions before you acquire anything else:
- Will it actually serve more people, or will it simply serve the same people another time?
- Could an existing ministry do this effectively with just a little bit of repositioning?
- Will this opportunity duplicate the purpose of another ministry and take resources (finances, leaders, physical space) away from both?
- What used to accomplish this purpose? Do we need to gracefully close something down before something new can be successful?
- Is this something someone else is already doing effectively? Why not simply let them do it and support them?
- Does this help move people toward who they ought to be in Christ or does it simply provide an environment for them to stay the same longer.
The last question is a much harder question than it looks like on the front-end.
Power is in focus and concentration, not in acquisition. If you acquire new ministries and opportunities without a great deal of care, you'll end up top-heavy and spend so much time chasing your institutional tail that you'll have a hard time realizing what you're hoping to see.
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