One of the greatest TV comedies of all time is Seinfeld.
Don’t even try to argue with me. You’ll lose.
So when I heard about Jerry Seinfeld putting his hat back in the ring of video comedy, I instantly decided that I’m in.
He’s got a new show coming out, and instead of it being on TV, it’ll be hosted on Crackle.com. Here’s the promo.
It airs July 19th. You going to watch?
(HT: 22 Words)
I tore my ACL (anterior cruciate ligament…in other words, I broke my knee) in high school. As a senior, I had to go to prom and graduation hobbling around on crutches…just how I’d always dreamed.
ACL reconstructive surgery, then 6 more weeks of crutches and therapy later, I’m left with a scar. 3 scars, to be exact. They stand out on my right knee as reminders of that painful injury.
And they’ll never go away.
image credit: CreationSwap User Jaret Benson, edits mine
No matter how much I pray, how much I wish them to, or how much vitamin E oil I put on them, they’re stuck on my knee for good as a permanent testimony and constant reminder of that injury, the surgery, and the pain associated with it all.
The most embarrassing part of the scars, though, isn’t the scars themselves. It’s how I tore my ACL. But that’s another post for another day. 🙂 I just keep telling myself that chicks dig scars. That’s still a thing, right?
Lots of us, though, carry scars from different injuries. Scars not from a physical accident, but from pain of a different kind. Pain from broken relationships, broken dreams, unrealized potentials. Some have been the product of our own bad choices. Others have been forced on us without our consent. Our scars remind us constantly that we have been injured, marked, and forever changed. Behind the scars lie the most horrific events in our lives. The scar is the outward-facing result of pain we wish had never happened.
We try to hide those scars, but a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt won’t do the trick. So we hide behind beautiful masks, thinking nobody will notice. But they don’t go away, do they? We begin to look at the scars not as battle wounds we can be proud of, but as a mark of disgrace that spreads to the inner fibers of who we are and of the story God has thrust upon us. A reminder that life’s not fair, not easy, and that even our own stories are broken.
Do you know what scars really represent, though?
Healing.
They represent that an injury is gone. You’re forever marked, but not plagued by a constantly open wound. The wound scabbed over, then scarred. It leaves you looking different, but healed.
Scars represent healing from a traumatic event. They remind us that though life was seemingly unbearable, God has mended the wound, reminding you constantly of the healing that happened.
Look at your scar as a disgrace if you’d like. As an ugly part of you that everybody stares at, questions, and judges you for.
Or embrace that as part of your story. As part of your healing and restoration. As a unique piece of your journey that God intends to use to heal others.
Scars will change your life, if you’ll let them. It’s someone Else’s scar that will bring you ultimate healing (Isaiah 53:5), and your own scar, as tarnished and sensitive as it may be, that God can use to speak hope into someone else’s. (2 Corinthians 1:3-7)
Life leaves us with ugly scars that stand out, occasionally still hurt, and attract attention.
But scars are a symbol of healing and the restoration that only God can bring.
It was a normal workout at Crossfit solafide. Tough, but normal. Time trials get my adrenaline pumping.
image credit: Flickr user CrossFit Pulse
I blew through the 400m run. Smoked it. I felt a little more gassed than normal. “No big deal, though,” I thought. “I’ll recover.” At least I didn’t tear my quad.
Next was 100 pullups. Normally, this is something I could blaze through. But by 30, I was spent. My energy was zapped. I bumped it up to 62 by the 5 minute mark. A bit of encouragement helped.
100 situps, 100 squats. Got ’em.
But then I thought I was going to die. Right then and there, on the black gym mat that smells like rubber and sweat and stale, crusty socks.
I was staring into the face of 100 push ups.
Realize this: Cross Fit is often as much of a mental exercise as it is a physical one. And you’re not going to beat me mentally. I’m like the Evander Holyfield of mental exercises. Or, wait…that’s too early-2000s.
Turns out that this day, it was the physical side of the workout that got the best of me.
I made it through the 100 push ups, but thought that my lunch was going to join that cursed black mat.
Finally, it was a 500m row. Done and done.
Immediately afterwards, I still felt like I might get the distinct privilege of seeing lunch again. I’ve had this feeling before, but this time I couldn’t shake it. Then came a case of the dizzies. Lightheadedness. ‘I can drive home,’ said my sweet wife. “Nah…I’m ok.” Note above: you’re not going to beat me mentally.
Driving home, I couldn’t bring myself to talk much. Dizziness continued and I felt like I needed to lay down.
Then my hand cramped so hard I had to pry it open with my other hand. A few times. Then came the chills, and I had to lay on the floor in our den to hold myself together. Turns out it smells a little better than the gym floor.
It was only after I ate a little food and drank a protein shake that I began to return to normal.
I had been dangerously close to…something. I don’t know what, but I was dangerously close to it. (just hang with me…being dangerously close to something adds dramatic value, right?). All because I hadn’t eaten much throughout the day. A small breakfast, smaller lunch, and some water were not enough for me to sustain a tough workout. I ran out of gas. When I was at the bottom, I had no reserve to draw from. My tank was empty, and I still had a few miles to go.
Isn’t the same thing true for us spiritually? You get out what you put in…or what you don’t put in. Spend time away from God, and you’ll find yourself drying up spiritually. Quit feeding your soul, and when tough times come, you’ll have nothing left to give.
It’s when life falls apart that these inadequacies come to light. It’s after a few tough rounds that you realize you’re not where you want to be spiritually. Or, at the very least, not where you thought you were.
Listen to the Psalmist:
Oh, the joys of those who do not
follow the advice of the wicked,
or stand around with sinners,
or join in with mockers.
But they delight in the law of the Lord,
meditating on it day and night.
They are like trees planted along the riverbank,
    bearing fruit each season.
Their leaves never wither,
    and they prosper in all they do. – Psalm 1:1-3
Plant yourself beside the River and you’ll not wither under the burdens of life.
The way you handle life is a reflection of what you have put in to your body. And the training starts now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now. If you wait to work on your spiritual life until things fall apart, you’ll find yourself face-down on a crusty-sock-smelling gym floor.
Want to grow up spiritually? Start now.
Want to be a better mom? Start now.
Want to mature in your leadership? Start now.
Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. – Philippians 4:8
There are certain things that pastors should not say out loud. Things that instantly create a damaging culture that’s difficult to recover from.
There are also phrases you should be careful saying to your pastor, and things every pastor wishes they could say.
image credit: Flickr user Pa Gagne
But there are other things that pastors say to themselves that are incredibly damaging. These words point pastors on a dangerous course. In the moment, they seem harmless. They just seem to be the product of a stressful week or a slip of the internal tongue. In time, though, these can shift a pastor’s heart away from authentic, biblical shepherding. Away from their calling. And away from the people they love.
Consider carefully what passages from Scripture you’ll preach. Choose with wisdom how you’ll lead your people through Scripture. But don’t let “Is this passage too hard for people to hear?” motivate you to not preach a text. If you feel like the timing isn’t right, bump it a few weeks. But don’t let fear and cowardice keep you from preaching Truth.
Never start a sentence with this. “Because they give so much…
James 2:2-4 warns
For example, suppose someone comes into your meeting dressed in fancy clothes and expensive jewelry, and another comes in who is poor and dressed in dirty clothes. If you give special attention and a good seat to the rich person, but you say to the poor one, “You can stand over there, or else sit on the floor”—well, doesn’t this discrimination show that your judgments are guided by evil motives?
Preaching is important. But don’t grow to the point where you feel your Sunday morning ministry is more important than what you do throughout the week. The way you love people, serve your community, follow up with visitors, shepherd staff, and make key strategic decisions is just as important, and both feeds into and out from, your Sunday morning ministry.
No. No it’s not. If you think this, you’ll end up with no ministry at all.
For if a man cannot manage his own household, how can he take care of God’s church? – 1 Timothy 3:5
Giving is an act of faith. It shows a deep trust that God is in control of money, not you. It also shows that you believe in something or someone. If you give money to a political candidate, you show your support of them. Give money to Habitat for Humanity, you show you believe in them. When you don’t give money to the local church you’re leading, you show a lack of support. On top of that, it’s a bit hypocritical for you to ask people to tithe, while you yourself don’t.
Never, never say this. God may be done with you in a certain context. A certain type of ministry, maybe. But your pain, frustration, and disappointments can become, if you’ll let them, your unique voice of hope and grace. God’s not done with you. You still have a ministry. God uses men and women every day who have been crushed by life. Don’t mask your pride by thinking God’s done with you. “Your” ministry is so much bigger than you, anyway.
 Pastor: ever uttered these phrases? Ever heard someone else say them?
There are lots of social meda “rules” that form over time. Just as with any product or service, usage often determines the unspoken set of ground rules. And if you’re not careful, those “rules” can pigeon-hole you.
And nobody likes a pigeon hole. Well, nobody but pigeons.
image credit: CreationSwap user Paule Patterson, edits mine
Whether you’re a pastor that’s a casual user or a power user, a rookie or a veteran, there are certain rules that you should adhere to. Rules that will help you with engagement…and help you not come across as
1. Completely out of touch with culture.
2. A self-centered self-promoter.
3. Â A person that others unfollow when they read your updates.
So here are 6 rules that every pastor should break daily with social media.
We know that you’re in love with the Bible. We get it. But there’s got to be more to who you are than random quotes from Scripture, right? Didn’t Martin Luther say anything good? CS Lewis? Can’t you come up with anything worth saying that’s at least remotely original? How about reading your Bible and applying it…and making that an update?
You’re not a walking Christian zombie, are you? You don’t only read Christian books, only watch Christian movies, and only eat at Christian restaurants, do you? There has got to be more to you than the Christian subculture. Building relationships with those outside of the faith isn’t going to happen if you’re tweeting YouTube videos out like this one, of Michael W Smith from the late 80s. Gotta love the vest. I think the song should’ve gone, “Nobody knew I could rock a vest like this…”
Twitter can become a megaphone for you to voice your complaints about a lot of things: culture at large, politics, “other” pastors, or even your own church. Complaining doesn’t become you, though. In fact, Paul urges us
Don’t grumble about each other, brothers and sisters, especially on Twitter… – James 5:9 (additions mine)
Give people an inside peek into who you are and what you do during your normal day. A behind-the-scenes, if you will. Social media can be a great voice for Truth and engagement throughout your week. Don’t have time to update during your work day? Schedule updates when you’ve got a few minutes.
Bologna. Share who you are. Share what you value. Talk about your family. Talk about your struggles. Share your pain. Your joy. Your victories.
If pastors want to bring hope to the hurting, grace to the downtrodden, and Truth to the places where people engage, we’ve got to track along with those outside of our Christian bubbles. And here’s a freebie for you…nobody judges your theology by who you follow on Twitter and Facebook.
 Question:
Do you interact more on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, or on your blog?
image credit: CreationSwap user Jordan Wiseman
While I’m preaching, there are myriads of thoughts racing through my head. Some of which include:
Why is that baby crying? Are they crying because I’m too loud? Or because they didn’t like that joke? Or because it’s too dark? Or too bright? Or…oh wait, it’s because they’re probably tired. Good thing they’re not falling asleep during my sermon like the guy behind them.
Why did he just get up to leave? Bathroom break? Am I going that long? Should I call him out right here and now? Nah…or wait. That might be funny. Or offensive. Probably offensive. But probably funny, too.
Why didn’t she turn her cell phone off? Hmm…I wonder who’s calling her? Wait…is she answering that phone? What’s she whispering? I wish she’d speak up so I can hear what she’s saying.
Uh oh…I’m going to go long with this sermon. Should I cut something out? Or make them sweat if I’ll ever be done?
I may be alone in how much my mind can often wander during a given sermon. But somehow, I think I’m not. And I’m willing to bet that most pastors believe these lies while they’re preaching:
1. Man, this sermon is awesome. In fact, all of my sermons are awesome!
Whoa there, Desperado. You’re not as great as you think. Jump on down from your high horse. Some weeks are good and others are, well, not so good. Accept it.
2. The person shaking their head in affirmation is actually listening.
Sometimes they are. But sometimes they’re just trying to keep from falling asleep. Don’t take it personally. And don’t use that moment to slide in your every-other-week “You shouldn’t stay out late on the night before church” points.
3. Everyone likes me.
Not the guy who stands out in the hallway every week. He doesn’t. Never has. And until you preach a message aimed at engaging him, he probably never will. OR…you could just try to have a normal conversation with him in the hallway. Either way…
4. “Amen!” guy is so zoned in to what I’m saying. It’s like we were cut from the same cloth.
I heard an “Amen!” guy at a church I once attended that “Amen”-ed every single point. He didn’t know when to stop. So he didn’t. I think I even heard him “Amen!”-ing in the parking lot.
5. I can do it all. If only I could clone me…
Stop it. Stop it right there. You’re doing one thing in this moment. You’re preaching. If you’re also slated to do the music for the day, every visitor follow-up throughout the week, and every prayer preceding the pot-lucks, it’s time to share some responsibility. You’re not good at everything. And if you think you are, then that might be one of the reasons your church isn’t growing as quickly as it could. (whoops…did I take that one too far? Sorry…)
6. They’re actually taking notes!
I saw some of our handouts from this Sunday. Doodling. A couple of notes. Then they left it under their seat after the service. Don’t kid yourself.
7. If I say this point with more force, you’re more likely to remember it.
Just keep trying. Use a megaphone if you want. Or, better yet, start yelling from the top of the sermon to the bottom. It’s all important, right? Then do your vocal warm-ups and let ’em rip. And watch ’em grab the ear plugs on their way in, too.
8. If I go long, people will love me for it.
Nope. If you go long, people will wonder how long you can actually go. And they’ll also be lamenting the fact that the Methodists are going to beat them to lunch today.
9. If I go short, people will judge me and wonder what I did all week.
Nope. If you go short, they’ll be the ones beating the Methodists to the buffet. And you’ll be their favorite preacher.
Why share this? Why smack pastors in the face a bit?
Because we’re humans, too. We’re prone to thinking too much of ourselves, taking ourselves too seriously, thinking everyone cares about intricate theology as much as we do, and prone to spiraling downwards into self-glorification.
The more we can pursue humility, making less of ourselves and our gifts and our talents and our insights and our winsomeness…and make more of the God who gives us life and breath and everything, the better off we are. And the better off our congregations are, too.
Time to quit believing the lies. Time to preach faithfully the message God’s given us. Time to remind ourselves who the King really is.
I had the chance to speak yesterday at Grace Community Church, where I serve on staff.
As I looked through the life of Elijah and the calling of Elisha, the heart of my message was this:
Doing what’s right doesn’t always feel right, and many times when you do what’s right, it won’t make sense to everyone else.
If you’ve not heard the story of Elisha’s calling to ministry, it’s one of the most dramatic in all of Scripture.
The Burning Plow from Gcomchurch Sermons on Vimeo.
I’ve made it no secret that I’m loving me some amateur gardening. My wife and I have tinkered with raised bed gardens now for a few years. We’ve moved the garden, planted different vegetables, started from seeds, started from plants, experimented with fertilizers, sprayed for deer, thrown oranges at deer (and hit them, thank you very much), and had a blast doing it.
But do you know one thing that’s never happened?
We’ve never had a plant that shot its roots towards the sky and its fruit down into the ground.
We’ve never had to say,
Aww shucks (because that’s what gardeners say…), this plant got it wrong…we need to dig it up and turn it over.
Wouldn’t it be weird to see roots growing towards the sky? To have to dig into the ground to get your fresh tomatoes? To wonder, when you planted your squash, whether the plants would guess, correctly or incorrectly, which direction was “up” and which was “down”?
Plants grow the “right” way because God intended them to grow that way. Science may have pinpointed the reason why this happens, but that doesn’t discount the hand of God to sovereignly direct things for His good and our benefit.
I wonder how often a plant questions its Maker, though.
Wow, how great would it be for me to do things my way? I so hate growing towards the sun. If I could only sink my flowers down deep into this dark soil, things would be much better.
Ridiculous, no? We all know that that won’t work. Roots have to go into the soil. Fruit grows in the sun. (well…unless you’re a potato. But that’s another post for another day) It doesn’t work if this process is reversed. It’s not how plants are supposed to function.
We do the same thing, though, in our lives, when we think we know better than God. We ignore the full life that God offers us. We go at life our own way, ignoring the wisdom God offers through others, through Scripture, and through life experiences. We think that we must know better. That our way must be the best. That roots don’t grow deep into the soil. That our roots need a bit of sunshine, and our fruit a bit of darkness.
There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death. (Proverbs 14:12)
But life doesn’t always happen as we’d like it to, does it? What we thought would happen by the time we turn 25 hasn’t. We’re not married. Or we don’t have children. Or we’re not in our dream job yet. Or we don’t have a house. Or we don’t have much money. Or we haven’t finished our degree. Or our dad still doesn’t want a relationship with us. By 40, our kids don’t like us. We’re on our 3rd marriage. Still in debt. Still have a dead-end job. Maybe life has left us trashed.
And life itself has stopped making sense.
If God is who He’s claimed He is, our natural inclination would be to accuse, blame, and turn our backs on the One who has created it all.
But let me challenge you with a better way. I think it’s time to trust the Guy who knew us before He crafted us in the womb (Psalm 139:13-16). Who knew what He was doing before we were born.
Even when it doesn’t make sense. Even when things are chaotic. Even when things are falling apart.
The One who created all of this knows what’s best. His perspective is bigger than ours. His ways are higher than ours. (Isaiah 55:8-9) His love is deeper than ours. His joy is more full than ours. And He’s able to bring beauty out of ashes. (Isaiah 61:3)
Choose to scream and rail and throw your hands in the air if you’d like.
Or choose to let your roots sink deeper…and let your fruit grow upwards.
Normal is the enemy of a full life.
And for me, life was normal.
I was a sophomore in high school, and nothing was shaking.
But Washington, D.C. changed everything.
It was late summer, and I was knee deep in summer assignments. Normal.
Practicing hard for my team’s upcoming Fall season. Normal
Cutting yards for a bit of cash. Normal.
I had signed up to tag along with our youth group to go on Mission Fuge, a camp in Washington, D.C. I’d gone to summer church camp since I was in 5th grade. Normal.
When we hit the ground in D.C., planning our week out and scoping the work we’d be doing. We were going to be working with some local kids doing, basically, a “Vacation Bible School” with them for a week.
“I got this in the bag,” I thought. I’d done VBS stuff before. I could throw that hat on. And I could rock it.
The following 5 days, though, unwrapped poverty like I’d never seen it. And it wasn’t “poverty” asking for my money and looking a little creepy. It was poverty that looked like me. Poverty that wanted to play basketball. Brokenness that I could be going to school with. Brokenness that broke my heart.
For the first time in my life, “poverty” wasn’t a problem that was simply a nuisance sitting on the side of the interstate begging for booze money. It was a real person. These were real problems with real needs…and God used me, in a minuscule way, to meet those needs. And the Gospel I knew became the Gospel I lived. No longer was “compassion” just what Jesus did on the cross. “Compassion” was what I offered because my King led the way. “Love your neighbor” wasn’t simply the 5th point of a sermon on what I had to do…it was the compelling force breaking my heart and mending others’.
Turns out God used that week to shape the hearts of a handful of teenage guys, like myself. He used that week to drive us to search our own hearts and, over the course of the next two years of high school, God would solidify a small group of guys and prepare us for great work ahead. From that group, 4 would go on to full-time vocational ministry. All because we weren’t satisfied with the “normal” high school experience, the “normal” church experience, or the “normal” relationship with God.
You never know when abnormal is going to happen. Sometimes we choose it. Sometimes it’s chosen for us.
When it happens, thank the Lord. Because Jesus didn’t come to offer us a normal life. He came to give us life to the full. (John 10:10)
Time to embrace the abnormal.
(this post is a part of a blog series today hosted by Prodigal Magazine. Check out some great posts HERE)
I love summers. For me, they feel much more relaxed than the frenetic pace of normal life.
image credit: Creation Swap user http://creationswap.com/tgitt
They offer time to slow down, plan, dream, and…read.
For me, reading over the summer involves more fiction reading. Since it’s a season of relaxing and dreaming, fiction gives me a chance to think outside of my normal box and think creatively.
Not to mention that I love getting lost in a good story.
With that said, here’s my list.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Book 6)
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Book 7), by JK Rowling
The Hobbit, by JRR Tolkien
Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, by JRR Tolkien
Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, by JRR Tolkien
The Great Gatsby, by F Scott Fitzgerald
Great Expectations , by Charles Dickens
The Life You’ve Always Wanted: Spiritual Disciplines for Ordinary People
Mere Christianity, by CS Lewis
The Explicit Gospel, by Matt Chandler
Do the Work, by Steven Pressfield
What’s on your summer reading list?
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