Biblical Fidelity and Our Times

In every generation there is some challenge to biblical fidelity. Discussing this with a friend and pastor I admire deeply, Nic Gibson, he said this. I want to share it with you.

Arguing that the Bible isn't all that clear isn't actually all that hard or all that clever. This is the major tactic of almost all revisionist biblical interpretation – that the text allows for many interpretive options, and that its message is woefully ambiguous to careful observers with more advanced knowledge. And yet almost none of these people would accept that this is true about virtually anything they themselves have written. They think of their own writing as clear, accurately enunciating a definite meaning. They would see doubts raised against their sentence structure, philological choices, and presumed assumptions as unwarranted and unnecessary speculations marshaled against the otherwise clear meaning of a straightforward and unadorned text. But this is modern biblical interpretation, if not all modern literary interpretation. This is the end of all schools of deconstruction and accommodation – the refusal of the surgeon to submit to his own knife ... [A]t the end of the day there is one incision of logical division that they cannot stomach – that the embracing of logical honesty will not uphold the desires of their compassionate sentiment. It is because it is unthinkable that they should believe that their compassion isn't compassionate because what they believe is loving isn't love. Such a moral accusation coming from the word of God or from our very conscience is too much for the deconstructionist to admit and bear – as it would be unthinkable for any of us. But, what we would refuse to be done to text that we write ourselves, we must refuse to do to the apostles, to Moses, or to Christ himself— and all the more if we believe in the divine authorship of all these texts. It is too often those who try to have it all that have nothing. The one who stands with one foot in two boats ends up terribly sore. It is the one who lashes his wrists to two departing trains who holds fast to the trains, but not to his own torso.

God Doesn't Need Me

Most Sundays when I approach the pulpit, I'm prepared. I believe in hard work, study, and spending hours getting ready for the preaching and teaching that I do at church. But, this Sunday I was not. Emotionally, I was a wreck. Mentally, I was clouded. Physically, I was tired. Spiritually, I was dull. "This is going to go terribly," I thought. The music faded, I took the pulpit, I prayed, and I opened my mouth.

What followed was nothing of Adam Mabry. It's a little difficult to explain. I was involved, obviously. I was present, and I was active. But the power of the words, the effect they were having on the people, and the results which flowed from my preaching, were so obviously not from me that I was quite literally dumbfounded. People came to faith in Jesus. Repentance flowed as tears streamed. Sicknesses were healed. It was as though, for a moment, the veil between Heaven and earth was pulled back, and we experienced a small expression of the glory of God.

This experience of my desperate inadequacy and God's gracious sufficiency afforded me a few insights:

God Doesn't Need Me Theologically, I knew that God didn't need me before yesterday. But the experience I had yesterday of being completely at the end of my rope mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually — and God doing so much anyway — solidified what I knew.

God Loves His People How crazy is the love of God for people that he'll simply meet with his people directly?! My preparation is not the pre-condition for God's manifestation.

God Loves Me Again, a fact I knew, but not an experience I walked in. Yesterday, across our three services, we had the best attendance we've had all summer. We had the most response to God we've ever seen. We had the most dramatic experience of worship that our gatherings have ever achieved. I watched it and all I felt was God saying, "See, I love you. I've got this."

God Wants Me This one is the most mind-bending of all. I "love" a lot of people that I don't want to be around much. That's because I'm still selfish and self-preferring. God's not like that. God actually wants to use me. He wants to be around me. He wants to meet with me, and my people. He doesn't need to, that's obvious. The only other option is that, for some reason, he really likes to. And that's crazy.

I've read God's words to the Apostle Paul a thousand times, "My power is made perfect in weakness." But yesterday — yesterday I saw it.

Yesterday I was weak. And God — God was so strong.

News and Views Roundup

Here are some stories and articles that have garnered my attention this week.

Marriage for the Common Good

James K.A. Smith is a Philosophy Prof at Calvin College, and a generally stupendous fellow who spins a solid stream of social commentary. Over at Cardus he wrote a great article called Marriage for the Common Good. Challenging the concept of Wedding, Inc. to the expense of martial success, he writes:

If we want to raise up a generation passionate about the common good, perhaps we should say "No" to the dress—and all of the spectacular trappings of Wedding, Inc.—and instead plan for a marriage with open doors, honest in its vulnerability, even eagerly dependent.

There's a Christian Holocaust in Iraq

The terrorist army ISIS has systematically been killing thousands of Christians, forcing most of them to convert, die, or be displaced from the home their sect of Chaldean Christianity has called home for thousands of years — 700 of which were before Islam existed. Here's a quote from one of the many articles that no one in our government seems to care about.

When U.S. troops invaded Iraq in 2003, there were at least 1.5 million Christians in Iraq. Over the last ten years, significantly in the last few months with the emergence of ISIS, that figure has dropped to about 400,000.

In a region where Christians predate Muslims by centuries, over one million Christians have been killed or have had to flee because of jihadi persecution, while America is basically standing by and watching.

This shouldn't surprise us, but it does. We Western Christians have allowed the relative ease of life for the past few centuries to feel a certain homey warmth about this world which makes us shocked at persecution. But Jesus told us to expect it, and embrace the responsibility of suffering well. Pray for our brothers and sisters in Iraq, and across the world who are suffering.

The Prince of Preachers' Lost Sermons

Charles Spurgeon was an amazing preacher, leader, and teacher of the 19th century. His influence still reverberates today. How often I myself wonder through his words, picking up wisdom like gold from the ground. Well now there's good news for people like me, we've found more of his sermons! Most of these sermons are from his early years — years full of struggle, mistakes, and pleas for grace. As a young pastor, you can imagine I can't wait to get my eager hands on this multi-volume set when it arrives.

A Beautiful Bible is Blowing Up on KickStarter

As a font nerd and a dude who really loves the Bible, this is like some sort of cosmic convergence of awesome things. A book designer/graphic artist/GENIUS named Adam (Coincidence? Of course not) has launched an effort called Bibliotheca. He wants to give the world a Bible that's beautiful to hold, read, and feel in your hands. I will be buying one or more of these.

Ethnic Unity v. Wishful Thinking

I pastor a multi-racial, multi-ethnic church. That fact, by the way, is a complete miracle. I don't know how it has happened, except for two factors: (1) I prayed a lot that God would make our church ethnically broad, and (2) by grace I actually try, for real, to care about people who aren't from my neck of the woods (as we say where I'm from). God has been pleased to do what I've asked, and I'm really grateful for that.

But in the broader church world, we're not quite as together as we could be. Oh sure, we'll have the odd unity service. The black pastor and the white pastor who've hardly ever met stand on the front row, awkwardly embrace, pretend they have something to talk about afterwards, and the praise then Lord as they walk away that neither one of them has to endure such an event but once a year.

Maybe that sounds harsh. Some truth is harsh.

Then there was yesterday. Yesterday I spent a few hours with a friend of mine who happens to be the leader of a large, fruitful denomination of African American churches. In Ron Burgundy speak, he's kind of a big deal. Ever since I arrived to plant Aletheia, this man has gone out of his way to make me feel welcome. He's invited me to address gatherings of largely black pastors. He's sent me texts encouraging me. He's bought me lunch, prayed for me, given me advice. He's even sent me and my wife cards on our anniversary. We're totally different. We come from very different Christian traditions, different parts of the world, and different upbringings. But, as I sat in his office yesterday, I was struck with the realization, "This is what unity looks like. It's when I love this man, and he loves me."

Our country is beleaguered with racial brokenness. In the church, it's not much better. Sure, we've tried to make it better. We've tried unity services. We've tried ecumenical counsels. We've sworn to be more diverse. But here's the deal — it's just hard. Real love is always hard. Real love is always costly. It certainly was for God, wasn't it?

But therein lies the difference between ethnic unity and wishful thinking. Wishful thinking looks to events. Real love looks to the cross. Wishful thinking thinks programmatically. Real love thinks sacrificially. Wishful thinking doesn't work. But real love ... well I think it does. It's working really well for this man and me.

Maybe that's a start.

A Day with Ed Stetzer

I had the privilege of spending the day with Ed Stetzer on Monday. It was a blast (aside from getting slightly lost trying to navigate through a Boston parking garage...) I thought it would be fun for him to share his insights on church trends in New England. I'll be posting more details later, but here are some of the key facts and trends that are still making me think about the region I'm living in, loving, and trying to reach.

The "Nones" are more prominent here, and they're growing from the squishy middle.

According to Ed, about 50% of the country's self-identified Christians are "cultural." That is, Christmas-and-Easter Christians. This group is shrinking rapidly, feeding the growth of the nones. In New England, that trend is exaggerated.

Non-denominational, Christ-centered churches are growing well.

That made me happy, since I pastor one of those.

We have an obvious mission field and a largely unengaged mission force.

When Ed said that, everything in me drilled down deeper into the commitment to make disciples. We can't afford to just do church, we've got to make disciples. And while making disciples involves doing church, its totally possible to do church and never really make a disciple.

Thanks for the insights, Ed.

Recent Sermon: Credo, part 3 - "He descended into hell..."

My recent sermon at Aletheia. You can download the audio here.

A Year After the Bombing, Three Reflections

Last year I wrote on my perspectives on the bombing of my city. A year later, a few reflections seem in order. Everything Changed For many in Boston, everything changed. For the victims, the police officers, the leaders, the marathon runners, and even for the perpetrators of the crime, life would never be the same again. How could it be? At the mention of The Boston Marathon, new associations will dawn in the mind. Athletes and heroes, victims and victory, terror and triumph, mingled together. For me personally, this was the day when Boston finally felt like home — my home.

Nothing Changed There is a good-hearted temptation to believe that tragic events change everything. In face of tragedy, we stand together, unified by our common wound and say well-intentioned things like, "we must be more kind," "justice will be done," and "we must put a stop to this evil." But sadly, the tragic events which expose the resident wickedness in the human heart are not in themselves powerful enough to change our hearts. A year after the Boston bombings, evil still exists, crime still persists, and injustice still resists even our most earnest promises to root it out.

We Must be Changed These dual realities — that while a great many things changed, many things stayed the same — illustrate the deep need we all share in Boston (and indeed we all share as humans). This is the need to be fundamentally changed. This is Holy Week, a time we remember another great tragedy, the murder of the Son of God at the hands of sinful men. God, looking at the repeating cycle of tragedy, chose to get involved. To step into the tragedy, and rend from it the ultimate victory. The greatest hero, the King of Kings walked into the blast meant for us, from the charges we set in our own depravity, to show us what love really is and how change truly happens. God dying for men — greatest tragedy bringing final victory.

So today, I remember the tragedy of a year ago. But I don't only remember, I hope and pray that this tragedy would cause us to remember the greater tragedy of the cross, in preparation to celebrate the greatest victory imaginable. Jesus rose, after all. I'm believing that Boston will too.

4 Ways the Cross Makes You Clean

This blog was posted over at The Gospel Coalition thanks to my good buddy Trevin Wax. I could tell she felt terrible. I had just blessed and dismissed the congregation, and she headed straight for me. She was convicted. She was guilty. She didn’t know what to do. Her name isn’t important, but her pain is. Hers is the pain we all share because of sin. The story she shared chronicled anger, sexual brokenness, depression, and defeat. “I just feel so terrible, Pastor.” It was heartbreaking to hear, and I hear it all the time.

Deep sadness over sin is something we all feel. We forget, of course, because our cultural moment has moved into the stage of collective depravity wherein we celebrate sin instead of hiding it. We plaster depravity on magazines, billboards, and web ads.

Who’s feeling guilty? Underneath all that puffery, everyone is. Even to those who’ve never heard the gospel, their thoughts still condemn them (Rom 2:14-15).

So what of the atonement is good news to a guilty world, hellbent on assuaging their collective consciences through every other possible means? What of the gospel do we tell them?

We tell them of expiation.

Expiation is that angle on the atoning work of Christ that means we are clean. Clean.

The young woman after church felt dirty. Used. Beyond redemption because of her brokenness. What does the world tell her? “Perk up, you’re just like the rest of us. You need some self-esteem!”

But that’s just it. She knew herself quite well, and there wasn’t much there to esteem. What she needed was the good news that Jesus Christ died not only to forgive her, but to cleanse her.

Expiation Means My Scars Don’t Define Me My pastor in college would always remind us, “we all operate out of our pain.” That’s true, until our pain is healed. We hurt others the way we were hurt by others. It’s pop psychology truth that we are likely to scar our kids the way we were scarred by our parents. That is, unless the scars are removed.

Expiation means that the pain of sin committed by us or by others against us no longer has to define us. He has cleansed us (1 John 1:7), healed us. He got scars to free us from ours.

Expiation Means I Don’t Have to Be Ashamed Because Jesus says we’re clean, we are. The addict is no longer “the addict.” The drunk no longer “the drunk.”

Shame is our emotional response because of sin. We hide in it or we take pride in it (as many are apt to do today), but it’s still shame. Expiation means that Jesus was shamed so I could be accepted. He was sent out so I could be brought in (Rev 1:5b).

Expiation Means I’m Clean If Jesus is truly my expiation, then I no longer bear the marks of my sin. In Christ, neither do you. Neither does the young woman after church. The gift of expiation is a clean conscience. And if Jesus dirtied Himself and took my sin to declare me clean, then clean I am.

Expiation Means I Can Be Bold Because Jesus has clothed us with righteousness (Is 61:10) then we should be bold. Not brash or rude, but bold — secure in our identity as forgiven, restored children of God.

Because of expiation, we can pray boldly (Heb 4;16), live boldly, and speak the good news of the gospel boldly (Acts 4:29) to a world that needs so desperately to hear it.

The young woman left that day beginning to know she was clean in Christ. I wonder, do you?

5 Must-Haves of a Spiritual Family

I love my spiritual family. For me, that phrase has tons of meaning. It goes beyond the church I attend or the denomination I'm in. Spiritual family speaks to the deep relationships that are forged in a family of men and women called to walk out their faith in Jesus together. It's spiritual and family. Here are five must-haves I've observed in my decade walking with the leaders of Every Nation. Unity We must be clear and unified in at least three ways: theology, relationships, and practicals. As God gives us great unity in those areas, almost anything becomes possible. Without unity, almost everything becomes impossible.

Vision Where are we going? If we're all going in different directions, then there's not much "we" to speak of.

Strategy How are we going to accomplish the mission God has called us to. If we don't have a good strategy then the family business won't get done.

Diversity Unity is not uniformity. Diversity of gifts, backgrounds, and perspectives make real unity beautiful.

Grace For any movement to stay together, God must be supplying abundant grace.

What do you think? Did I miss something?

Confronted by Jesus

It's a warm day. The smell of dust and animals in the air — the sounds of a small, bustling Palestinian town in the background. Jesus is on his way from one place to the next, when in the distance he hears someone shouting his name. The disciples hear it too. Their sound is desperate, but the disciples are tired. Must they stop again? Soon the shouting prevails as they see their master locating the source of the cries. Two blind men. Two brave, reckless blind men, being hushed by passers-by. But Jesus stops. He asks what they want, as if it weren't obvious. But he wants to hear them say it. They need to speak their needs to Jesus. His answer, "According to your faith may it be done to you."

These words confront me like a fist confronts a jaw. I don't want this to be true. I want Jesus to say, "according to my power, may it be done to you." Or, "according to my mercy, may it be done to you." This word faith disrupts me to the core. I'd much rather live in a world where God just made it all happen, and I, like a floating leaf, meandered down the river. But this verse cries, "Swim!"

But that's not how it works. Not with Jesus. Jesus chooses our participation with our growth. He enables and inspires faith, and then he demands it of us. When I become like the blind men, desperately weary of my own blindness and wholly convinced of Jesus' power to heal, I'll cry out to him in faith too.

The real question is, then, what am I desperate for? Because it seems to me that desperation is the foundation of miracle-enabling faith.

We Give Thanks

(This blog was originally posted at aletheia.org. It's an update on our progress in 2013 at Aletheia) Thankfulness is a discipline. In a society that conditions coolness to mean cynicism, honest thankfulness and hopeful praise is as rare as hens’ teeth (to use a southern expression). But around here, we’ve got a lot to be thankful for.

In 2013, God helped our growing church plant in some amazing ways. Here are a few of them…

Dozens Met Jesus In our services, in our groups, and in our normal relationships, God is saving many. Watching people who’ve never followed Christ repent of their sins and trust him is the reason we planted this church.

Discipleship is Happening We set out a goal to have a community group for every 15 attendees at Aletheia. While we haven’t quite hit that mark, the number people regularly engaging the Scriptures in a group has increased greatly this year.

We’ve Given Away Around 20% of Our Budget to Missions, Mercy, and Church Planting It may sound crazy, but we fundamentally believe that we are given resources to give them to Kingdom causes. This year, we as a church gave away over 20% of all funds we raised to missions, mercy, and church planting. Praise God for such an opportunity.

One Service to Three Services This year, we’ve given our city three different opportunities to join us to worship Jesus. That’s up from just 1 at the beginning of 2013.

One Location to Two Locations This year, we’ve planted a new congregation in downtown Boston. It’s started well and we are expecting 2014 to be a year of breakthrough for this new site.

More Leaders are Leading The group of men and women who lead (Ministry Team leaders, assistants, Community Group leaders, interns, etc.) has increased in the last 12 months.

New Staff are Joining In 2013 we set out a goal to see a few new staff members join our team. First, a campus minister to help us reach and disciple college and high school students. Then, an administrator to help us keep all the plates spinning with excellence. By God’s grace, we’ve added both those staff members!

We’ve Doubled in Size Each year we expect to grow. But to double in size is an amazing grace. The average American church plant does not pass 100 attendees after 4 years. In three quarters of that time we’ve seen 5 times the average. That’s all from Jesus and a great grace to celebrate.

Here’s what this does not mean: we’re awesome. This very clearly means that God is gracious and kind. He loves Boston so much that he’s happy to work with flawed people like us to accomplish something greater than we could ever bring about.

And of course, these are just the church metrics. None of this speaks to the countless stories of breakthrough, life change, miracle healing, provision, and grace in all our people. Those stories are too many for a little blog post.

So, we give thanks to Jesus for these graces in 2013. And, we look forward with eager expectation to see all the graces that are available in 2014. It’s an awesome adventure. We’d love you to join in.

Resolved: No Resolutions

I'm kicking off 2014 with a rebellion against the new year's resolution. That's right, no resolutions in 2014. "Now wait," you might say. "Isn't having no resolutions really a resolution itself?" Perhaps. But what I'm interested in is what the resolution does to the soul. I'm not rebelling against goals, I'm rebelling against the list — the wishes we all make of pie-in-the-sky dreams that would be awesome to achieve but will largely go undone. Don't believe me, though. This phenomenon has been pretty heavily researched, showing that we're not very good at resolving. We make the list, most of us don't achieve it, and then we settle ... or get depressed ... or get cynical ... or worse.

So, no to resolutions.

But for those of you who know me, you'll know that I'm an achiever. I'm a living, breathing stuff-getter-done-er. I can't even relax without planning out how I'll achieve relaxation. So how can I say such a thing as no to resolutions? Because resolutions don't work. But goals, with plans ... they do. In fact, setting goals and making plans works quite well.

So, no to resolutions. Yes to goals, with plans.

Here's how this works for me...

Goal I make a huge list of goals. I pray over it, talk to my wife about it, and edit it. But in about a week, I'll have settled on it. I put those goals in different categories (9 of them to be exact). Spiritual, physical, emotional/mental, marriage, kids, work, financial, educational, and miscellaneous. I write them down, print them out, and put a laminated list in my journal, on my iPhone, and a few other places where I can see them.

Plan For each goal, I make a plan. If I say I want to read my Bible in a year, how am I going to do that? If I want to write a new book, what's the schedule? What are the little goals to get the big goal done? I write those plans down and put the important dates in iCal, with reminders.

Maintenance I have a weekly, 1-hour appointment with myself. Phone is off, computer is closed, journal is open, list in view. I'm simply asking myself and Jesus, "How am I doing? How's the plan going? Holy Spirit, what needs to be added or changed?"

Celebrate When I achieve a goal, I celebrate! Not usually in a big way, but I at least thank God, buy a coffee, high-five my wife, or something. When you win, thank God and throw a party!

None of this is Bible, and none of it is law. But it's been working for me pretty well in 2013. In fact, my biggest goal of 2014 is just to do those four steps above more consistently.

Providence, and 4 Wrong Ways to Think About 2013

Here we are at the precipice of another year. The gyms are revving up their new year's campaigns, the self-help aisles in the book stores are fit to burst, and we're feeling the itch to make lists full of to-do's. But before we get too foam-at-the-mouth over this coming year, it may be helpful to think about the one we're leaving. When it comes to thinking about the past, we can make at least four mistakes:

Fatalism The fatalists are those among us who live by c'est la vie. This perspective sees the past as a series of uncontrollable events that "just happened." The fatalist views yesteryear like a line of dominos. One event touches another in a series that never stops. He copes with this by saying, "it is the way it is." He puts his head down. He moves on.

Activism The activist is the opposite of the fatalist. He's the can-do achiever who looks at the past like one big O.T.I. (which, according to previous coaches apparently means, "opportunity to improve.") Life doesn't happen to you, you happen to life, darn it, and life better watch out. The activist has a plan, has the will, and, if he ever references the past, only does so to achieve something in the future.

Futurism Speaking of the future, there's a fourth wrong way to look at the past, which is to neglect to do so at all. There are those among us who are futurists. If life were Disney World, they'd never leave Tomorrowland. The futurist is the one who says, "chin up, tomorrow will be better." Why does he say this? Who knows. But the futurist is convincing enough for himself, at least.

Victim-ism The final wrong perspective that eats our cultural lunch is victim-ism. The victim is like Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh, always wondering, "Why did this have to happen to me?" In our therapeutic culture, blaming everyone else for our own issues is as natural as instgram-ing that totes hilarious situation you were in that one time (See what I did there?) But blaming others for the pain doesn't help it, it just deflects it.

This all begs the question. What is a good way to look at the past? May I suggest the robustly biblical answer, through the perspective of providence? Providence affirms the following:

God is Strong Enough to Order History Only Jesus reveals a God who is strong enough to rule over time without obliterating personhood. How do we know? Jesus had a clear destiny. Born to die and rise. Yet, he wasn't a machine. He was a real man with real experiences. No other religion offers such a Deity. Not a fatalistic tinkerer, a Sovereign Savior.

God is Good Enough to Account for the Pain "But what about those painful parts of last year?" God rules over those too. But only Jesus reveals the kind of God who is good enough to account for the pain. Why? Because he's experienced more suffering than any of his children ever will, he can say, "I know this hurts, but trust me," and we can believe him.

God is Gracious Enough to Gift and to Wound God loves to give gifts to us. Over and over, the New Testament describes God like a great daddy, eager to give beautifully wrapped gifts to his kids. But God does not only give grace wrapped in bows, but veiled in pain. These are those graces that grow us up, prune us, hurt us, and help us. Like weight on the spiritual bar, or surgery on the spiritual problem, it hurts. But a perspective of providence allows us to see that God is the kind of dad who not only gives presents, but pressure. And like a good dad, he's not interested in us just having what we want, but becoming who must.

So before you and I pop the corks and toast 2014, let's look backwards with some proper perspective, thankful to God for those graces that were obvious, as well as the ones that were veiled in suffering.

3 Reasons to Invite Someone to Church this Christmas

It's the most wonderful time of the year, that much is true. Christmas music, Christmas trees, Christmas cookies (That last one I'm particularly fond of...) But it's not just a great season live, but for inviting others to find abundant life in Jesus. Why? Here are three reasons...

It's Culturally Acceptable

In our culture, you get exactly zero bonus points for being a Christian. A generation ago, you may have, but not today. BUT, there are two times a year when all that culture-wide mistrust of Christianity is laid aside: Christmas and Easter. Since it's one of the few times a year that you'll get fewer odd looks, take advantage of that and extend a warm invitation to our Christmas Celebration.

The Holidays are Good, and Bad

While the movies and greeting cards show us the fun Christmas cheer of family, food, and friends, for many the reality is much darker. Some of your closest friends and relatives have sad, painful associations with this time of year. Jesus knows what it's like to have those closest to you hurt you. Inviting your friend to church may be the way they meet Jesus, and receive all his abundant love and grace. Time to make a new association with the holidays, like the time you found grace and eternal life.

Jesus Was Born to Die for Us

Jesus wasn't born to just bring peace and goodwill toward men. That idea springs from sub-par translations of Luke 2:14. (You can check out a comparison here). We get true peace when we get God's grace and favor. We only get God's grace and favor when we turn away from the pretty and the petty and turn toward the Perfect: Jesus Christ, the living, dying, and rising Son of God. Your friends don't need Christmas cheer, ugly sweaters, and nicely wrapped gifts. Your friends, and you, need grace — the grace of Jesus. That's a really good reason to invite someone to church.

So next time you're at the water cooler, the bar, or the hallway, remember that awaiting you are people who need Jesus. This is a great moment to invite them to meet him.

O, Great Mystery

In a former life, I had the wonderful experience of singing great music. One such piece of great music was set to the beautiful, ancient poem O Magnum Mysterium. Here are the words... O magnum mysterium, et admirabile sacramentum, ut animalia viderent Dominum natum, jacentem in praesepio! Beata virgo, cujus viscera meruerunt portare Dominum Chirstum. Alleluia.

Which translates to...

O Great mystery and wonderful sacrament, that animals could see the newborn Lord, lying in a manger. Blessed is the virgin womb who was worthy to bear Christ the Lord. Alleluia.

The mystery can get lost in the bows and ribbons, the food and the friends. It's good to take a second and peer through the pretty Christmas and stare, trembling at the mysterious, messy, marvelous advent of our Lord. What humility and mystery that our King wasn't first viewed by dignitaries, but donkeys. Not the important, but the animals. Let the mystery and music help you wonder at the humility of our Savior King.

Finding Time for Jesus

We are busy people. "Can you meet me tomorrow for coffee?"

"Oh, I'd love to, but I'm busy. How about the following day?"

"Nah, that won't work, I'm busy that day."

I can't tell you how many times I've had this conversation. I've got a hard time meeting with people — even people I really like. If you're at all like me, then this same busy-ness can hinder the most important appointment we have — our daily meeting with Jesus. Here are some thoughts on our most important appointment.

Jesus is never too busy. Unlike you and I, Jesus is never too busy for us. He is always waiting for us, never late or held up by another more important request. He's available.

Jesus is worth the effort. If you're honest, many of your meetings are just a pain. We don't want to do them, but we must. Life with Jesus is never like that. He's always worth the effort of rising early, meditating on his word, praying, and waiting.

Jesus gives you something to walk away with. There are those appointments that make you soul-tired. The friend who drones on and on about her problem. The boss who won't cut you a break. Meeting with Jesus is never like that. He always gives you more in your soul than you showed up with.

Andrew Murray knew something about meeting with Jesus. The great man of prayer knew that conversing and creating time for encounters with Christ. I'll close with his prayer for people like you and me,

Let Thy wonderful revelation of a Father's tenderness free all young Christians from every thought of secret prayer as a duty or a burden, and lead them to regard it as the highest privilege of their life, a joy and a blessing. Bring back all who are discouraged, because they cannot find aught to bring Thee in prayer. O give them to understand that they have only to come with their emptiness to Him who has all to give, and delights to do it. (Murray, Andrew. Lord, Teach Us To Pray (p. 14).

A Good Black Friday Psalm...

If you're like me, you feel tempted on days like today to think that stuff = joy. Keeping up with the Joneses is the great American Holiday tradition. But before you give that lady the flying elbow for the underpriced LCD TV, just have a quick read...

But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped. For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked ... But when I thought how to understand this it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God, then I discerned their end ... When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart, I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you.

Nevertheless, I am continually with you. You hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Selections from Psalm 73

7 Things I'm Thankful For

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I thought I'd celebrate the day with 7 things for which I am thankful. I'm Thankful for Jesus No, I'm not just giving you a Jesus-juke. I'm grateful for my savior. He loved me while I was his enemy. He bled to beautify me. I will sing for 10,000 ages about his greatness and not yet have scratched the surface of his kindness.

I'm Thankful for Sanctification Jesus doesn't just save me. He grows me. He challenges me. He slays me. He prunes me. He loves me. He rebukes me. He trains me. This is our relationship. My Savior-Lord wants me to grow up. It hurts — a lot — but it's worth it.

I'm Thankful for My Wife She shouldn't be my wife, you know. She should be someone else's wife ... someone much nicer, kinder, more patient ... maybe someone with more hair. But she's mine. She chose me, and I her. She loves me, and I her. She doesn't let go of me, and I'm not letting go of her.

I'm Thankful for My Kids Kids are a gift. I have four healthy, happy, awesome kids. Being a daddy is great and really tough. I have four little mirrors who show me my need to be sanctified. I have four little people who have the potential to change the world for Jesus. I have four little reasons to fight the good fight of the faith. They're a blast, and they'll be gone before I know it. So, I'm drinking it all in now.

I'm Thankful for My Parents Having my own kids has shown me one more thing ... it must have been tough as nails to raise me. I was not an easy, cheerful, obedient young lad. My mom and dad must've wanted to put me up for sale a time or two. They didn't. They raised me, paid for me, fed me, put up with me, housed me, drove me to school. I'm really grateful for all that.

I'm Thankful for My Spiritual Family The men and women with whom I have the privilege of walking is unbelievable. My spiritual sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, fathers and mothers ... they know who they are. I'm so glad I don't go to a church, but I'm part of a spiritual family. Going to church is boring. Belonging to a family is exhilarating.

I'm Thankful for My Stuff God's given me stuff. Not a ton of it, but enough of it. A bit of money, a car, a house ... everything I need. I don't own it, Jesus does. He lets me hang on to it. I want to steward it. I want to give a lot of it away. I want to improve it. The best part is, I don't live for it. I'm grateful for it, without being beholden to it.

I don't know if you've done it yet, but take a moment. Look over your life for evidences of grace and, be thankful. It's a good day for it.

We've Gotten Sex all Wrong

This past weekend we kicking off a new teaching series at Aletheia called Sex, Money, Politics (and a few other things you're not supposed to talk about in Church). Leading us off, Nick Nowalk (a good friend and teaching fellow for Christian Union) tackled the topic of sex. Sex is a personal decision, right? I mean basically, sex is like food. Your body wants it, so you satisfy your desires with whatever feels best. There's nothing moral or immoral about that, is there? Such is the current cultural mood about sex.

It's just not a popular time to hold onto Christian sexual ethics—I mean, they just seem outdated, don't they? How in the world is it good news Jesus is lord of sexuality.

Christians Usually Get the "What" of Sex Right, but the "Why" of Sex Wrong "Don't look at porn!" "Don't sleep around!" "Don't ___________ (insert your own sexual deviancy here)!"

In the church we're pretty good at telling everyone what not to do with sex, but not so good at why. But knowing the why is critical. If we only learn the rules and not the reasons, we become morally stunted, unable to navigate the sea of grey all around us. We come off judgmental when we should come off gracious. We seem unloving when we should be understanding.

Taking for granted that most people understand that (despite the exegetical acrobatics of some modern preachers) God's vision for sexuality is to be only legitimately expressed between a husband and a wife, let's ask, why?

Your Physical Body Matters to God For all kinds of reasons we won't go into, most of us think that the physical world just isn't the most important world. Our "true" selves are somehow disconnected from our bodies. If you believe that, then your view of sex will necessarily be skewed. If, for example, you believe that any second now God's gonna throw all of creation into some cosmic trash can and start over, then what you do with your body, the earth, and pretty much anything physical just doesn't matter. If the physical world doesn't matter, then neither do sexual ethics.

But the physical world does matter. It matters very much.

In 1 Corinthians 6:9-20, Paul lays out a theology of sex. His basic argument (to a church that was engaging in all kinds of sexual craziness) was, "Listen, God raised Jesus from the dead, and He will raise you too. Therefore, your body matters." Ask anyone today if we should recycle and they'll say some variation of, "Yes. After all, the earth will be here for a long time." How ironic, then, that we treat our bodies like brain transportation devices, subjecting them to whatever sexual experience that our flesh demands we give it. What we do today echoes into eternity.

Sex is Greater Than You Thought Sex is not about sex. Sex is a sign and symbol of a greater reality. When we reduce sex to a physical activity like hunger or thirst, then we've missed the grandeur of sex altogether. First, sex is about covenantal one-ness. In Genesis 2, the author writes that the two (man and wife) are to become one (echad). This, by the way, is the same kind of one-ness with which God describes his own inner life. Therefore, we must see that in God's eyes, sex points to a much greater reality than desire. Nick summarized this in four basic ways:

• Monogamous - Sex is to be enjoyed exclusively with the covenant partner (husband or wife). This echoes of God's exclusive commitment to us.
• Different - Sex is to be experienced by opposite genders together. This speaks of God's relationship to us—we are not the same as Him, nor is He the same as us.
• Committed - Sex is a sign and symbol of our covenantal commitment to our spouse. This reflects the covenant love of God and his people—God never leaves us, therefore we never leave our spouse.
• Life-Long - Sex is to be enjoyed in a progressively greater way in this relationship for all of life. This reality reflects the permanent commitment that God makes to his people.

Any and every kind of sexual brokenness the world deals with today is a violation of this positive, beautiful vision of human sexuality.

What we Do with Sex Reveals what we Believe about Jesus Sexuality tells a story. For the Christian, we live according to a whole new and different story—the gospel. The gospel vision of sexuality celebrates the good news that Jesus Christ is lord of sex, and I am not. Our big problem with sex isn't that we don't know what's right. Our big problem with sex is that we fundamentally do not believe that Jesus lordship over sexuality is better than ours. We do not trust him. Whenever we live out a different sexual story than the one Jesus gives us, we say to the world, "I do not trust that Jesus is better than I am." The testimony of our lives is, "I am better than Jesus."

At bottom, any disagreements we have about sexual ethics aren't really about sex. They are about Jesus. The question which faces us is simply and only, "Do I find Jesus, and his vision for human sexuality, better than me and my own?"

We would all do well to ponder that question. For Christians, this question should make us patient and gracious. For, experience Jesus as better than self may take some time. Just as God is patient but resolved to lead us into progressive abandonment of sin and pleasure in Christ, we must do the same for others. For non-Christians, this question should clarify the argument. Disagreement about sexual ethics is not (for the Christian, at least) about bigotry, hatred, or "why can't you understand God made me this way..." It's about lordship. And for the Christian, Jesus is lord of everything, including sex.

And that is really, really good news.

Resources:

• Nick's Sermon on Sex.
• My book, Sex, Love, and War.

When our Gospel is Muddy

(I had the privilege of writing for my buddy Trevin Wax recently. This article appeared for him over at his blog for The Gospel Coalition) Missions and church planting is pretty much the only thing I’ve ever done (which means I’ve made plenty of mistakes!). Space doesn’t permit me to share all the occasions where my zeal stiff-armed wisdom. For many in ministry, this is a job hazard.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only passionate pastor though. Every ministry conference I attend, I find dozens of other wild-eyed church planters, pent-up preachers, and inspired ministers – all adrenalized by visions of revival in their cities.

But lurking behind passion is danger—ways in which we, the impassioned proclaimers of the gospel can muddy the message. If we are truly passionate about Jesus and his Kingdom, then we must become passionate about making the message of that kingdom as clear as possible to our hearers.

Here are four common ways I see us missing the mark and muddying the gospel:

Bad Language I’m not talking about cussing in the pulpit. Our problem is the tendency of the theologically-minded to use language that your neighbor who’s never come to church before doesn’t understand. So cloistered can we become in our own reformed, or baptist, or charismatic, or (fill in the blank with your favorite Christian subculture moniker) language that we’ve lost the missionary edge to speak to everyone else.

I’m not just talking about the pulpit speech. I’m talking about all your language—website, bulletin, announcements, etc. If you’ve got a bad website that can’t be viewed on a mobile device in 2013, you’re using bad language. If your church artwork looks like a poor imitation of Hollywood, you’re using bad language. It’s the essential equivalent to preaching in New York using Elizabethan English. People may understand you if they really try, but you’re not making it easy on them.

Biblical Shallowness Just because you know how to make a few vague redemptive-historical connections in your preaching does not make you biblically deep. We need to know the Bible inside and out. The rays of light which beam forth from the Scriptures burn away the fog which veils our gospel. That’s why we need to more deeply saturate ourselves in it.

Laxity with language is a sign of biblical shallowness. If you read the Scriptures well you can’t help but notice all the great many ways God has set about telling His redemption story. Denying ourselves the richness of God’s literary genius and creative narrative is death to the minister—the sodium pentothal of our preaching.

Why? Because the minister must be more than literate with the Scriptures, he must be fluent. If you’re fluent in the language of the Scriptures, then translating their message into the language of the culture becomes second nature. But if you’re foggy on the Bible, then you’ll fog up the lens of the onlooker, making it impossible for him to see and savor the gospel.

Idolatry of Preference We are masters at enforcing our preferences as if they were biblical norms.

You like hymns because “they’re biblical, after all.” You prefer your music quiet because you read in a book it should be that way. You prefer your music loud because you’re pretty sure worship at the head of the Israelite procession was loud, right? You like your pastor in a trendy shirt, or you don’t.

My point here is that when we make dress code, music, style, meeting times, graphics, and carpet color objects of great concern, we elevate them to a status of importance beyond what they deserve. These are preferences that must be subject to the Scriptures and our mission to clarify the gospel to the culture.

We must be vigilant to resist our preferences in ministry. We mustn’t look not to our own interests, but to the interests of others (Phil. 2:4). Jesus did ministry this way. We probably should too.

Moral Duplicity Pastor, you are not called to be edgy, but holy. When our tongues speak too loosely or our eyes wander too freely, we become guilty of moral duplicity.

Test yourself in this. Is there behavior that you engage in regularly throughout the week that you’d be embarrassed to tell your church about? That feeling you’re having right now probably says enough.

The world doesn’t need worldly ministers. The world needs heavenly ministers who speak their language. Jesus is our great example.

Passion for Jesus should translate into a passion for clarity. When we get out of the way, the world can see the Gospel clearly. The simple question is, are we willing to agree with John the Baptist that Jesus must become more, and we (with our preferences, problems, and proclivities) must become less? For the sake of the gospel, I sure hope so.