Trusting God Means Taking Risks

Trusting God means taking risks. The thought is pretty simple, really. Trusting God means trusting Him, not your ability to understand everything He does. As a pastor, I watch people get confused by this one a lot.

"Where's God right now? What's He doing"

"Pastor, why did He let me experience this?"

"I don't understand what God could be doing in this situation."

We seemed to be convinced that if we can't see what God is doing, then God can't be doing it. But here's the thing: God doesn't have to approve His plan with you. If He did then you would never have to trust Him. You'd simply be approving his plans. And, those are not the same. If you require a comprehension of God plans, you'll never take a risk and step out in faith. Why? Because you'll never do anything that totally depends on God and His character, just on you and your understanding.

What a lame way to live.

Trusting God means taking risks — stepping out in obedience doing things that have unclear outcomes (from our perspectives, at least). If you're afraid of risks, the answer isn't to just manifest some bravery. It's to remind yourself of the nature of God. He's the kind of God who can be trusted with your step of faith.

Jesus said, "Follow me." You may not be sure where you're going, exactly. But, you know you can trust your leader. Take the risk. Trust God.

Will Your Way to Worship (3 Practices)

Today is hard. Money is tight, friendships are lean, you feel emotionally spent, or maybe spiritually dry. Someone just died, or is about to. That special person cut the relationship off. And in the middle of all that you're walking through, here's what God says:

"Worship the LORD with gladness; come into His presence with singing!" (Ps 100:2)

Doesn't He know how hard your life is right now? Doesn't He understand that you just can't authentically create the emotions of joyful worship when life is so challenging? Doesn't God get it?

Yes. He gets it. He gets how hard it is to worship in the middle of a bad day. Try singing Psalm 22 while you hang on a cross. The Son understands how hard it is to will yourself to worship, especially when it's hard. Yet, He did it. He worshipped when it hurt.

Here are three practices I've found from Jesus' life that show us how he willed himself to worship:

Jesus Had a Pre-Existing Practice of Worship

You're not going to sing and shout to God in pain if you've never done so at all. Jesus had a practice of worship and communion with the Father before He experienced pain. (Luke 5:16, Mark 1:35)

Jesus Sang Scripture

Jesus sang the Psalms and so should we. I love great music, new and old. I'm not worship style warrior, hellbent on my preferences. But, Jesus knew how to go to the Psalms and sing God's word over His life. When Hell breaks loose in your life, you need the Psalms. (Matt 27:46)

Worship Shaped Jesus' World

Worship isn't a coping mechanism. We are worshipping, loving creatures, constantly orienting ourselves around that which we hold most valuable. Jesus' worship of the Father shaped his world. By worshipping regularly, we're reshaping the contours of our affections to wrap around the Worthy One. Doing so will change the way we see the world.

Today is still hard. This is when we must will ourselves to worship. God doesn't demand our praise because He's an insecure killjoy. He demands it because He loves us. He knows the only way to walk through the valley is with our eyes on the one whose rod and staff comfort us. Take the steps. Will yourself to worship today. And tomorrow. And the next day. And watch your world get reshaped.

4 Moral Responsibilities We All Have To Truth

There is an interesting reaction happening among many young Christians. It is the cautious conviction that it is, perhaps, wrong to speak truth. Friedrich Nietzsche claimed that deep within us all lies der wille zür macht (the will to power). This is the idea that each of us are consumed with gaining power and prominence over others. According to Nietzsche,  this goes for (especially) us religious folks. Some of us are pretty convinced that when someone says they "know God," they're acting immorally, irresponsibly, or even dangerously. Postmodern philosopher Denis Diderot famously said, "Men will never be free until that last king is strangled on the entrails of the last priest."(1) Yikes.

But, the fact remains that some people use their claim to know truth as a wedge for power.

This may surprise you, but this objection wasn't first sounded by hippie philosophy students who were trying to throw off the oppressive shackles of "the Man." It was sounded by Jesus. This was the same accusation that Jesus leveled against the Pharisees. He said of them, "[They] tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on peoples' shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger."(Matt. 23: 4). Did Jesus just agree with a postmodern critique of religion? Why yes he did.(2)

Yes, truth can be misused. And yes, truth can go unsaid. But these observations are hardly new. Jesus criticized the religious leaders of his day over the same sorts of things. Why? Because truth is all tangled up with moral responsibility, and we all already know that. We sue people for false advertising. Lying politicians (hopefully) get voted out. When a spouses lie, divorce may follow. We all know that we have a moral connection to truth. Here are four ways that plays out:

To Know It

The biggest problem with humanity is that we, in sin, suppress the truth in unrighteousness (Rom 1:18). According to the Scriptures, truth became flesh in Jesus. And according to those same Scriptures, knowing Jesus sets us free from sin's lies. There's nothing morally praiseworthy about believing what is false.

To Believe It

When we know truth, we're then accountable to believe it. You can sell books with clever sounding unbelief, but that's just the adult version of that annoying, know-it-all friend from third grade. Everyone knew he was full of hot air then, and he still is, even though he sells books. If truth is true, then we are accountable to trust it.

To Teach It

Truth is to be shared. Just as it would be unjust to knowingly teach school children incorrect mathematics, it is unjust to knowingly perpetuate falsehood. Why? Because lies don't lead to human flourishing. If incorrect equations make technology work incorrectly, then incorrect moral and metaphysical beliefs will have the same effect on the soul. We have a moral responsibility to not obfuscate, but to educate — to speak clearly and not deceptively.

To Not Misuse It

The reason so many are so scared to speak truth clearly is because we've seen it misused. We've seen truth said unlovingly, and it hurts. We've watched people who thought they knew truth hurt folks who were "wrong." Our reaction, however, has been to toss the baby out with the bathwater. One moral failure (not speaking truth) doesn't fix another (misusing truth). We must be among those who use truth truthfully.

The good news is, we've got really good precedent for faithful, useful truth telling. Jesus Christ is truth made flesh (John 14:6). He knew it, even though everyone around him wanted to deny it. He believed it, even through it was thoroughly unpopular. He preached it, because he knew that only through contact with truth can humanity be rescued from the lie of sin. And he never misused it, but came under the penalty of those who did, to rescue them.

Let's stand up in fidelity to truth. After all, truth has already done so for us.

(1) Denis Diderot, attributed by Jean-François de La Harpe in Cours de Littérature Ancienne et Moderne (1840)

(2) Adam Mabry, Life and Doctrine: How the Truth and Grace of the Christian Story Change Everything. Aletheia Resources. 

Omnicompetence is the New Pride

"Just as there is no way we can serve both God and money, so there is no way we can (openly or secretly) believe in our personal omnicompetence and at the same time believe in Jesus as the Savior of sinners."(1) When you ask people about pride, few consider it a bad thing any more. School pride, national pride, (insert social cause here) pride ... pride has been moved off the moral no-no list in modern American Newspeak. That makes it very hard to locate. But, locate it we must. Just because we've become more cozy with the sin of pride doesn't make it any less that — sin. And I think I may have found where this particular devil has been hiding out: Omnicompetence.

Omnicompetence is not a word, but if it were it would describe our (my) deep, personal conviction that I can do pretty much anything, and that I need very little help. "I've got this," is its confession. "I can handle it," is its mantra. And, "I'll be alright," is its rather unformed eschatology.

I can see omnicompetence when I skip reading the Scriptures because I'm busy.

I can hear omnicompetence when I lie to a friend who asks how I'm really doing.

I can feel omnicompetence when I'm short-tempered with others and difficult to get on with.

Omnicompetence is the new pride. It's the way we modern people have made a virtue of personal utility and a vice out of humble needfulness. It's the rebranding of the one sin that lies at the root of all the others, and makes the heart so hard that it refuses to ask for help. In fact, if you're a devout believer in your omnicompetence, Jesus came to empower you, perhaps, but not to save you. I mean, you've got this, right?

Right?

Right.

Omnicompetence is the ultimate expression of practical atheism. But, take a minute to examine it up close. If you look deeply into the shiny surface of this idea, you'll begin to see the fissures. Those small, nagging ways we fail, falter, and miss the mark. Omnicompetence has a real problem with recognizing sin, and the humble vulnerability that such a recognition produces. But, like paint over rotting wood, omnicompetence can't hide our true nature for very long. No set of skills, no matter how great, can ever overcome our deep need for help.

For grace.

Lord, help me part ways with the belief in my omnicompetence — my pride. Hold my neediness before my eyes long enough to cause me to voice my need for the Savior.

(1) Alec Motyer, Isaiah by the Day, 93.

Social Justice Needs Personal Righteousness

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly." - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Letter from a Birmingham Jail

We live in the day and age of the social justice warrior — the young man or woman committed the ideas of making the world "out there" more just. Conveniently, you can qualify for this job without any concern for your personal righteousness — a grave injustice itself. But, since today is MLK day, I feel it's important to remember that King (and Paul, and Jesus, and all the prophets) didn't share this rather modern (rather ridiculous) view.

When Dr. King wrote his now famous Letter from a Birmingham Jail, it included the oft-repeated phrase, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." And, that's true. But before you ride your noble steed off into the unjust world to "fix it," it would be helpful to remember the rest of the idea. "We are caught in an escapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly."

In other words, it's not just morals "out there" that matter — what we often call social justice. It's also our personal righteousness "in here" that counts — what we call morality. If we're really serious about pushing back racism, sexism, classism, and the many other ills from which our culture suffers, we must also be serious about personal righteousness. They are all connected — we are all connected. If I'm struggling morally, somehow that will affect society. Conversely, if society is riddled with injustice it will affect me. It sounds counterintuitive to us, but it's true.

Scripture declares that righteousness and justice are the foundation of God's throne. That explains why God connected the ideas in Jesus' great commandment — to love God and other people. Because, they are connected.

All this means that I'm personally very grateful for Dr. King. His struggle for justice is connected to even my personal righteousness. I can't be who I'm called to be without his efforts to make the world better. In response, let's commit to grow more personally righteous through Christ. Only then will this work look more like Heaven. As righteousness and justice meet in our lives, they'll meet in our world.

The Romance of Regularity

"I stopped reading my Bible regularly because I just wasn't feeling as close to God as I used to." "Nah, we haven't been on a date in a while. The last time we did, we got in an argument."

"I don't know where he'd been. We used to hang out a lot, but then it just trailed off for some reason."

...

We have romanticized our relationships way, way too much. We've made them center on feelings over commitments — emotions over reality. Here's the simple fact: If you want a great relationship with God, with your wife, or with your friends, regulate it.

I don't mean make a bunch of rules for it. I mean that you must make it regular — scheduled, written, and active. We must learn to detach commitment to a relationship from the floating non-foundations of our feelings — doing something with someone only when it feels right.

Want to hear God? Get up every morning, read your Bible, and pray. Do that most days for a year. Feelings will follow.

Want to have a great marriage. Get up every day, thank God for her. Make her coffee, without the snark, and serve her.

Want a great friendship? Commit to walk out life with someone else. Use a calendar. Make it happen.

This is the romance of regularity.

5 Ways to Friend Well

I'm not sure how it happened, but somewhere along the way I never picked up the "how you're supposed to be a friend," lesson. This has led to me alienating (mostly by accident) people who have tried to befriend me over the years. None of this comes very naturally to me. Despite my disfunction, there have been some men along the way who've stuck it out with me and friended me very well. When I'm around them, I'm better. Here are 5 ways they friend me that really stick out.

1. Friends Communicate They operate the phone. Not just satisfied with emails and the odd Facebook hi-five, they call me, and we connect. Friends communicate, they don't wait to be communicated to.
2. Friends Encourage When I'm around my friends for an extended period of time, I feel stronger — braver. I think that's what encouragement really means — to be filled with courage.
3. Friends Pray My friends pray for me. Good friends do that, regularly.
4. Friends Play I can be the fuddiest of all duddies, and my friends get that. So, they drag me out of my study and my "seriously-guys-I'm-an-adult-doing-adult-things" attitude and make me have fun.
5. Friends Build My closest friends are the guys I've built something with. Whether its a company, a church, or a project, friends lock arms and accomplish things bigger than themselves.

So, I'm learning from my friends how to friend well. This is what I've got so far. Did I miss anything?

"Is" Can't Make "Ought"

For a long time, philosophers have made the case for God's existence based upon a moral argument. Rationally-minded atheists have countered by saying that one can be good without believing in God. And that's true — one can act in a way that most of us find morally praiseworthy without believe in God. You just can't explain why.

Here's the point: the rational sciences are quite good at making "is" statements. Light is both a particle and a wave. Water is two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen. Eating a pound of bacon a day is bad for your health (but really delicious).

But rationality alone can't take you from "is" to "ought." Just because we can scientifically demonstrate that eating the aforementioned daily pound of bacon will have deleterious effects on your heath doesn't mean you ought not do it. In order to believe you ought not do that you must first have some pretty strong beliefs (on faith) about human nature, its value, and that living a long time is more morally praiseworthy than choosing to die and early death for the love of pork products. In other words, you need more than mere rationality.

Alvin Plantinga warns us against placing all our epistemological eggs in the basket of the rational sciences, saying:

Some treat science as if it were a sort of infallible oracle ... Many look to scientists for guidance on matters outside of science, matters on which scientists have no special expertise. They apparently think of scientists as the new priestly class; unsurprisingly, scientists don't ordinarily discourage this tendency. (1)

Before your take all your oughts from the "sciences," do a little thought experiment with me ... if you're brave enough to be unsettled. Ask yourself, what are those "ought" statements that you believe so strongly? Now ask yourself what beliefs you have to believe to believe so strongly in those statements?

Where do those strong beliefs come from?

At the end of that chain of reasoning, you might find yourself standing next to God. Which isn't a bad place to start figuring out the "oughts" of life.

(1) Alvin Plantinga, Where the Conflict Really Lies: Science, Religion, and Naturalism (Oxford, 2011) 18.

3 Reasons to Keep Going

You're in the middle of something right now — maybe even something great — and you want to quit. Don't.

Some activities, habits, and attitudes we should quit. I'm not talking about those. I'm talking about quitting on your calling, your relationships, your work — the things you know you should do. Do you ever just want to tap out on those things because they're just really hard?

Again, don't.

Here's three good reasons not to quit on good things:

Your Not Supposed to Quit Things like your calling — your real purpose in life — you're not supposed to quit. You can't tap out of being who God made and appointed you to be. "It's really hard, though," you say. Yes. Yes it is. That's because it's good, and everything good is hard. An unhealthy side effect of our overly-coddled culture is the belief that when opposition comes (or just when the good vibes leave) we must be in the wrong lane. That's not true. If God commands it, you're to do. Don't stop.

Jesus Didn't Quit Let's talk about the archetype for perseverance a moment. Jesus didn't quit. He didn't hang up his gloves because his team still didn't get it. He didn't roll back when his family thought he was nuts. He didn't even quit when the Roman soldiers were ripping the flesh of his back, nailing him to a cross, and watching him die, slowly. He didn't quit.

Maybe you're suffering right now. Suffering doesn't mean you should stop. God uses our suffering to build our character, purge our sin, and make us stronger. I'm really glad Jesus didn't quit when it was hard. Don't quit.

God Gives Persevering Grace to the Persevering God doesn't abandon you when it's tough. The genius of the Christian story is the way God remains omnipotent while entering into human suffering, and overcomes. Because Jesus overcame this world, he can now give overcoming grace to those of us still in it. I know it's tough right now. God gives grace when it's tough. He is with us when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. His grace is there to sustain.

Whatever you're in the middle of right now, don't quit. Show up, ask God for help, keep going.

Dangerous Doubt and Why You Need It

Let's talk about doubt. For some, doubt is a big bogeyman. Feel doubts about your faith? Expunge them with all haste!

Well, maybe.

I depends on the kind of doubting you're doing. But you may be surprised by what the Scriptures actually say about doubt.

You're Commanded to Doubt

You may not know this, but the Bible actually commands Christian to doubt. At least, a kind of doubt. Paul wrote, "Test everything, but hold fast to the good." (1 Thes. 5:21) This the wise, soul-protective doubt that keeps faith filled disciples from becoming foolish chumps who believe anything that looks vaguely Christian. Understood in this way, I can't help but think that a whole lot fewer end-times books would sell if Christians took Paul's command to heart.

When Doubt is Dangerous

Doubt is dangerous when it metastasizes into the cancer of cynicism. Cynicism is a false epistemology — a way of knowing that says, "You can't know that," about everything. It takes the position that truth can't be found. But saying "I don't believe that," about everything is just another way of saying "nothing is to be believed," about anything. C.S. Lewis exposes the foolishness of cynicism when in The Abolition of Man,

You cannot go on 'seeing through' things forever. The whole point of seeing through things is to see something through it. It is good that the window should be transparent, because the street or garden beyond is opaque. How if you saw through the garden too. It is no use trying to 'see through' first principles. If you see through everything, then everything is transparent. But a wholly transparent world is an invisible world. To 'see through' all things is not to see.(1)

Look, I get cynicism. Cynics sound smart, but they're not. They're fools engaging in a sophistry that hides the fearful insecurity and lack of trust that marks hurt hearts.

Some Things You Should Never Doubt

There are some things that you should never doubt. God's character, never doubt that. God gave you his Son when you gave him the finger. That's a good God. God's love, never doubt that. His love for you and I cost him everything. There are more things not to doubt, surely. But of all people, Christians shouldn't fear doubt. We should fear the slide that doubt may place us on toward the cancer of cynicism. So, doubt well.

(1) C.S. Lewis. The Abolition of Man. Pg. 53-54.

4 Questions to Ask Yourself Before Planting

This post also appears at NewChurches.com As the entrepreneurs of the church world, we church-planters tend to have strong opinions on the kind of church we want. So once we get the idea of the future church in our heads, we go after it. We raise money, find the venues, and organize the team to get to the goal that (we hope) was given to us by God.

While this goal-oriented nature can be a huge blessing in the life of the planter, it can also be his demise if his goals aren’t good. I’ve had the privilege to train, equip, and coach a lot of godly planters with godly goals. I’ve also seen a few whose goals were suspect. So how do you know if your goals are godly? Try answering these four questions:

1. Why are You Planting this Church?

If I had a dollar for every guy I’ve met who had a bad answer for this question, I’d be able to buy myself at least two Ed Stetzer books. “There’s nothing like this church in my town,” or, “There’s no Reformed (or charismatic, or missional, or whatever your thing is) church around here,” are bad answers. Also unacceptable are, “I’m ready to be the boss,” “I’ve got a great vision for how church could be done better,” or my personal favorite, “I’m not really sure what else to do.”

The only correct answer to this question sounds something like, “Jesus has commanded me to go make disciples. Planting a church seems like the way God wants me to do that.” If you’re not doing this to form and fashion followers of Christ, you’re not doing it for a good reason.

2. What are You Reacting Against?

Many a church planter has a bad PH balance in his soul. You’ve probably met them — guys in their 20’s and 30’s who are reacting against their mega-church leading, boomer Pastor dads. Such reactivity makes their work acidic, dripping with the “I’ll show so-and-so,” attitude that may doom their work. Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what you’re reacting against? What way of doing church, or denomination, or leadership style, or theology are you determined to avoid? Do you want to lead a house church on its merits, or because you just hate how “corporate” church has become? Is ancient/future worship your preference because you’re listening to the leading of the Spirit or because you heard about it through a podcast?

Church planter, don’t be reactive. All things are yours in Christ (1 Corinthians 3:21). Take the best, leave the rest, and don’t succumb to the pressure to form opinions on other church’s methods or leaders.

3. How Will You Make Disciples?

Do you realize its entirely possible to gather a mass of people without ever actually making a disciple? That’s the scary thing about church growth techniques — most of them work really well. When I’m coaching planters I always want to know how their why (Question 1 above) connects to their how (How they make disciples). Now I’m no anti-church-growth guy. Who doesn’t want the church to grow!? I simply mean that attendance and decisions are not the metrics Jesus asked us to track. He told us to make disciples. If you can’t figure out how to do that, you’re probably in the wrong business.

4. Who is Pastoring You?

Church planting is difficult, soul-draining, devil-fighting, marriage-stressing, and financially-challenging work. You need a pastor. Scratch that, you need pastors — individuals committed to telling you the truth, asking you about your marriage and kids, and keeping your soul healthy. Ideally they will be older and wiser than you — people to whom you’ve given permission to speak into the deep, dark recesses of your soul. Our church is doing really well right now, but I’m convinced I’d have wrecked it at least three times without the men who pastor me. Church planter, who is pastoring you?

Answer these questions, planter. The future of your work — and probably your soul — depend on it.

Leaders Must Pull Close

Relationships are hard work. What kinds of relationships, you ask? Only the ones with humans.

I find within myself and the people I'm privileged to pastor two forces. First is the force which compels us into relationships. Call it love, society, or whatever you like — it's a strong force. And largely, it's a good force. You don't have to be too much of a theologian to find solid, biblical grounds for this desire to be in relationships. God is a unified society — a oneness in relationship. That's what Trinity means.

But then there's the other force. Call it self-protection, shame, or fear. This is also a strong force, but it's not so good. This force is the drives us away from relationships because, often, they're painful. That mask you wear, the hard conversation you avoid, and those lies you tell others — they're all this contrary force at work.

Here's the point: Leaders must pull close. If we don't we're colluding with the relational entropy that signals the beginning of the end of the relationship.

As a leader, you'll find it most difficult to pull relationally close to someone when:

• They disagree with you.
• They hurt you.
• They talk about you.
• You hurt them, and you know it.
• You have bad chemistry.
• You sense it's time for a change.
• Trust has been broken.

Sounding more familiar? We all want to have deep, abiding relationships with those we lead. But the leader who becomes relationally distant and emotionally aloof won't be leading those same people for long. Pretty soon, the team will leave, the band will break up, or the staff will turn over. Leader, if you want to lead well, pull close.

• When they disagree with you, talk to them. Don't email them. Talk to them.
• When they hurt you, buy them coffee and ask them about it.
• When they talk about you, don't talk about them. Talk to them.
• When you hurt them, repent. Quickly.
• When you have bad chemistry, acknowledge it to them.
• When you sense it's time for change, be honest. Be their ally.
• When trust has been broken, let them know. Seek to repair it.

Leader, if you'll pull close — if you'll fight the shame-fueled isolation — you'll lead well. How do I know? Well do you remember all those ways we hurt each other? We did all that to God. Thankfully, God pulled close. That's the gospel story.

Let's go live it out among those we lead.

Data Streams | 6 Places to Go

What are your data streams? I've got a theory about data streams: most of us have way too few, or too many that are too alike. One of my aforementioned measurable goals is to add a number of new data streams to my life. Data streams are those watering holes of information from which you drink. For me, they look like this:

1. Bible Highly important data stream for me. Should be for you, too.
2. News You've gotta get yourself some diverse news sources. I'm talking to you both, Connie Conservative and Libby Liberal. Read Fox and Drudge and MSNBC and Huffington Post. And more.
3. Tech If you live in the West, you live in a world increasingly dominated by technology. Get a few data streams about technology, and what's coming soon.
4. Podcasts Super helpful data streams, especially if you're an aural learner like me. Get some good Christian podcasts, and also grab some things that will stretch your brain in different directions.
5. Books Apparently folks used to publish their thoughts in an edited form on paper. I think that may be a fairy tale, but this website called Amazon.com may know something about it.
6. Think Tanks These are groups of smart people who research stuff. Again, you need some good conservative and liberal ones, but know you know they're there. Go research some stuff.

A final word of warning... social media is an insufficient data feed. It's the junk-food of the mind. Easy, cheap, and tasty (who, after all, doesn't like to chow down on a good buzzfeed from time to time). But thinking well on the basis of social media is like trying to live well on Doritos and Skittles — not going to happen.

For more details on what exact data streams I enjoy, just ask :-)

3 Great Expectations for 2016

Expectation is a very visible emotion in my house, especially at this time of year — especially among my kids. Expectation for fun, presents, and all-around Christmasy goodness. I'd imagine they have such great expectation because, for the most part, Hope and I are pretty good parents who like to give them good stuff. Well, God's a better dad than me. So as his kids, we should approach this new year with some great expectations. Here are three of them:

Expect Evil to Persist I know, not the most encouraging one. But seriously, why are (Christians especially) so surprised when evil rears its ugly head? It's horrible, yes, but hardly surprising. We've got a whole theology about evil that does a pretty good job explaining why it's there. Unless Jesus returns in 2016, evil is will remain. You can expect it.

Expect the Gospel to Work In the face of evil and brokenness, here's another sure thing — the gospel will still be the power of God for the salvation of all who believe. In fact, as evil gets worse, the power of the gospel to rescue and redeem gets bigger and brighter. So let's not skulk into 2016, pining for a so-called Christian culture of a by-gone age. Let's charge ahead with the confident expectation for the gospel to bring the Kingdom.

Expect God to Do Great Things If you expect God to do very little, you'll probably get what you expect. You're facing some giants in 2016 — health, money, dreams, and destiny. So show up like my kids do this time of year. Don't let disappointment drain your faith. Don't allow disillusionment to lead you into doubt and despondence. God is great, so expect Him to do greatly. You will not be disappointed.

Measure the Resolution

Each year around this time I engage in a little ritual. I review the passing year up against my goals that I set at its beginning, to see how I did. But here's the problem with a lot of this past year's goals — they're immeasurable. I'll give you an example. Last year, in a pious moment, I wrote, "Pray more powerfully." I also wrote, "Be a better father," and "work on my character."

"But Adam," you say, "how will you know if you've actually achieved any of these goals?" Heck if I know. And that's the point.

So here's my approach this year: Measure the resolution. I'm going to set goals that I can measure in some quantitative way. I'm reading a biography of Jonathan Edwards at the moment, and have been blown away by the specificity of his resolutions. So, here's mine:

Resolved: to make resolutions I can measure, so I can know if I've actually achieved anything.

If you make some measurable resolutions, let me know how it goes.

Rivers Crossing

Recently I had the privilege of preaching at a great church called Rivers Crossing. Here's the video!  

Missionary God

Recently I was invited to speak at Trinity New Life Church. Here's my sermon, Missionary God.

Campus Harvest 2015

I was recently privileged to be asked to speak at Campus Harvest. Here's the message I preached.  

Easter 2015

On this Resurrection Sunday Pastor Adam helps us understand the resurrection of Jesus and its implications from the perspective of four different characters in John 20. We discover that because Jesus is alive, everything can change.

Hey Critic, Go Create

In the movie Ratatouille, the character Anton Ego uttered profound truth when he stated,

In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so.

I can't but help think about this quote as I scroll through my social media feeds. It seems that one can get a rather popular little blog following by criticizing something or someone else. And it's especially popular amongst my fellow Christians who stand ready to crank out negativity at a pace and volume that would be impressive were it not for the content of their rather prolific sludge.

So, here's my challenge to me, you, and everybody else. The next time you (I) feel tempted to write that "Open Letter to ____" (Where ____ is the person or thing I'm really annoyed at/tired of/offended by), sit down with a blank sheet of paper and take an hour to come up with a better way to do what ____ is doing. The worst that could happen is that you make the world better while not contributing to the volume of complete garbage on the internet.

There ya go, two birds with one stone.

Far harder it is to build than to break, Far tougher to tend than to tear, Far better to create than to critique, More loving to rejoice than to despair.