Category: Theology (page 5 of 21)

5 ways to not be like Gollum

You’ve heard of Gollum, from The Lord of the Rings, right? That weasely, sneaky, under-handed nasty thief whose sole focus in life was the Ring. He didn’t start out that way. He started out as a curious, “quiet-footed” hobbit. Check out a bit of his backstory.

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Gollum’s downward gaze shaped who he became. Instead of letting his curiosity help him explore the beauties of God, he let it drive him into the dark places. Smeagol became Gollum because he didn’t “look up.”

Curiosity is a gift from God…until you let it lead you to dark places. Instead of your curiosity looking for shadows of hope and grace scattered throughout the earth, it can lead you to search in dark corners of self-pity, self-hate and loneliness. Curiosity can lead you to your sin, your “dark places.”

When your gaze is always “downward,” you’re setting yourself up for a life where you’ll be dominated by your shame, guilt, and failures. Gollum is the prototypical person who is fully aware of their “thing,” their addiction, their “thorn in the flesh,” and who has made their life, and everyone else’s, revolve around that addiction. Gollum is so marked by his addiction that his whole existence revolves around it, and like a vortex he has sucked other people into his pain.

Time to look up.

26 Look up into the heavens.
Who created all the stars?
He brings them out like an army, one after another,
calling each by its name.
Because of his great power and incomparable strength,
not a single one is missing.
27 O Jacob, how can you say the Lord does not see your troubles?
O Israel, how can you say God ignores your rights?
28 Have you never heard?
Have you never understood?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of all the earth.
He never grows weak or weary.
No one can measure the depths of his understanding.
29 He gives power to the weak
and strength to the powerless.
30 Even youths will become weak and tired,
and young men will fall in exhaustion.
31 But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.

How do you take positive steps away from your sin, and help ensure that your addiction and recovery don’t become your identity? How do you make sure you don’t consume others in your road to health? How do you ensure you’re not dominated by your guilt, shame, and fear?

6 Ways to Not Be Like Gollum

  1. Get outside. Enjoy the beauty of God’s creation. As you do, you’ll find the dark places of your heart a bit brighter. (Isaiah 40:26)
  2. Get outside. Remind yourself that there is a God…and that it’s not you. He’s all-powerful, you’re not. He knows all things…you don’t. He created the stars. You didn’t. (Isaiah 40:26-27)
  3. Exercise. There’s something healing about working strenuous, physical activity into your routine. Growing physically weak reminds us that God’s strength is perfect. (Isaiah 40:29)
  4. Serve someone else. Gollum served, and only thought about, himself. If you want to get out of your rut, do something for someone else, in a way that your favor can’t be “returned” back to you. Make life not about you.
  5. Remind yourself of the times that God has loved you and breathed hope into your story. (Isaiah 40:27)
  6. Trust in the Lord. (Isaiah 40:31) Easier said than done, though. Which is why you can’t do this on your own. Everything else can be done, just between you and God. But trusting in the Lord is too difficult to try to do by yourself. Bring someone else into your journey, and give them the freedom to speak hard, life-giving Truth into your story. 
Ready to grow in your faith? Time to look up.
 

A trick that the best leaders do

It was the last inning of the final game of the 14-year-old travel team tournament I was playing in. We were in Murray, KY, squaring off against the home town heroes. The two guys in front of me struck out looking, frozen by the ace that the other team had brought in to close out the tournament.

I remember the look from my coach as I walked up to the plate with two outs. The look that said, “Dang it. Reed is up. I guess this tournament is over for us.” That look just made me mad. So mad that I whiffed on the first two heaters he painted on the outside corner. 0-2 count. Nobody knew it right then, not even the pitcher, but I had this guy’s number. I had him dialed in. He came in on me with a low fastball, and when he did, it was like the whole world slowed down for a moment. I felt like I could see the ball like I’d never seen it before. Instead of throwing me a heater on the inside corner, it was like he was lobbing me a softball. The buzz of the crowd went away, the fielders disappeared, and it was just me and the ball. It was like I was in the matrix for a moment. I turned on it, ripping it to the left field wall, knocking in the tying run.

Boom. Take that, coach. And other team.

Have you ever had those kinds of moments, where everything around you is going crazy, but you are so laser focused that time seems to slow?

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image credit: CreationSwap user Amber Sprung, edits mine

The leadership zone

The best leaders work like that, navigating stressful and crushing situations with ease. They have a calming sense about them, too, bringing other people into their zone and helping them calm down.

Helping crazy moments seem a little less crazy.

Helping chaos seem like a smooth Sunday afternoon ride.

Helping confusion seem like an evening in the recliner.

Here is the reality: even in these “zone” moments, things aren’t calm. They aren’t clear. But great leaders help others feel that way, as they constantly, through their words and actions in the heat of the moment, cast the vision that says,

“We’re going to be just fine. Hang on. Here’s where we’re going.”

They paint a picture that isn’t satisfied with the reality in front of them, but is looking forward to that day when things will be calm.

Ron Edmondson is especially adept at this. I can’t tell you how many times I stepped into his office at Grace, stressed and confused, only to walk out thinking, “Why in the world did I ever doubt?”

Here’s the trick that the best leaders do:

Act calm.

Even if you aren’t. Even if you don’t know which direction you should go next. Even if you are frustrated, up-tight, and confused. Take a deep breath, and help others to do the same. If you lose your cool complaining and crying, you only exacerbate an already stress-inducing environment.

As the old adage goes, fake it until you make it.

But that’s just lying, Ben!

Maybe.

Or maybe your words and actions can be deeply rooted in a faith that trusts that no matter what happens, God’s not shaken. God’s in control. He calls the shots, not us. And even if we fail, God works out all things for our good. Stress tends to bring out the best, and the worst, in people. Let it bring out your deep trust in a good King.

Next time chaos and confusion strikes a meeting, an event, or a relationship, act calm. Remind people who’s really in control. Take a deep breath. And move forward.

 

 

A Christ-centered Christmas children’s book

Our creative director, Jason Dyba, wrote this book. He read it during our Christmas services at Long Hollow. It’s phenomenal.

Read along with it. Then pick up a copy (see below the video for easy, free instructions) for your family to read this Christmas. I did.

Laura, Rex, and I will be reading it together this year.

 

Herbie and the Manger from Long Hollow Creative on Vimeo.

To download your copy

You can also to order a physical copy to be delivered to your home!

 

The difficulty of Christmas

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image credit: Joe Cavaszos

I was standing in line at Wal Mart, checking out with a few snacks that my wife and I were taking to our staff Christmas party. We were both pretty excited to celebrate a great year with the staff at the church where we serve, and whom we loved.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I slipped it out to see who was calling as I slid my credit card to complete the transaction. It was my mom.

“Hey mom, we’re checking out at Wal Mart. Can I call you right back?”

All I heard in reply was the rapidly-inhaling wheeze someone has when their words are battling with their tears. I instantly squatted down beside the register, cupped my hand over my right ear, and strained to hear every word coming through the phone.

“Mom? What’s wrong? Take a deep breath.”

“It’s Grandma…she’s…”

*wheeze*

“Mom. I can’t hear you. What’s wrong with Grandma?”

*wheeze*

“She’s gone, son. She’s gone.”

My world started spinning. I felt like things slowed down and sped up, all in the same moment. Everything seemed incredibly real and tangible…and at the same time, chaotic. In shock, I relayed the information to Laura as we grabbed our receipt and bags, rushing out the door. I remember the sound of the ignition as it combined with the screams from the ambulance and fire trucks. I knew they were for Grandma. I knew they were headed in the same direction we were.

My grandma’s house was less than 2 miles from Wal Mart. When we pulled up, the flashing lights of the Emergency vehicles lit up the house like Christmas lights normally would that time of year. I parked in the driveway and ran up the shiny metal wheelchair ramp that had recently been installed. My dad walked out, holding my son, Rex, in his arms. They were playing with a toy. It was Dad’s way of distraction-coping. He had just lost his mom, and to keep from crumbling under the emotional weight, he played with Rex. I talked to Dad briefly, then went inside, pushing past the medical personell who didn’t know what to say to me.

Grandma was laying on the bed. She’d died in her sleep. She hadn’t been in the best of health, but her general demeanor and look were improving. Then, she was gone. In an instant, she went to be with Jesus. I bent down and kissed her cheek, a tear dripping down mine onto hers. “I love you, Grandma” I whispered.

2 years ago, just a couple of weeks before Christmas, I lost my Grandma. I’ll remember that day for the rest of my life. I’m reminded of her love, her warmth, her laugh, and her put-everything-from-the-freezer-in-the-pot soup. Every Christmas Eve, I remember the breakfasts we’d eat and the gifts we’d open. I remember the shows she loved and the coffee she drank. I remember the smell her house had.

Every year, I wish I had one last Christmas with her. That I could have one last Christmas to hear her laugh at Rex jumping off of her wheelchair. That we had one last Christmas Eve to eat her huge, very-unhealthy-but-very-good breakfast. That one last time I could hear her say, “Eat, honey. Eat ’til you’re full. Then eat some more. Eat slow and eat a lot.” That I could open up the refrigerator one last time and see all of the drinks she’d gotten…she always had your favorite good and cold.

Just one last time.

Joy for the Joyless

For so many people, Christmas is pure joy. Gifts. Family. Food. Relaxing. Celebrating.

But for some, Christmas is tough.

It’s a reminder of our pain.

Maybe you lost someone you loved, and every Christmas season you’re reminded.

Maybe you’re lonely, and all of the chatter about family, friends, and celebrations reminds you that you don’t have anyone. No family. No children. No spouse. Nobody to celebrate with Christmas morning.

Maybe you got fired during the holidays one year. Maybe your dream crumbled before your eyes.

If you have a family, and you’re able to see them on Christmas, you’re prone to forget about others’ loneliness.

If you haven’t lost someone you love this time of year, it’s easy to forget that others have.

If you have plenty, it’s easy to forget that others don’t.

This season, remember that Jesus came for the broken. The hopeless. The helpless. The shattered. The confused. The sick. The lonely. The angry. The depressed. The fakers. The weak. The ones in pain.

Jesus came for us.

He didn’t stay up in heaven and simply tell us he loved us. He entered our pain. He shifted our world. He came to be one of us, and offer us hope.

He doesn’t offer hope that this life is going to be easy, pain-free, and full of wealth. But He promises to be with us through it all.

Christmas reminds us of that. At Christmas, we see a God who’s not far off, but is near. A God who can sympathize with us in our weakness. (Hebrews 4:15) A God who doesn’t just let His creation groan in pain from afar, but through whom all things hold together.

For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ, and through him God reconciled everything to himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of Christ’s blood on the cross. – Colossians 1:19-20

Jesus came for us.

 

 

What will your last words be?

What will your last words be?

Will they be something eloquent? Or more like the last words of a redneck:

Hey y’all. Watch this!

Ever think about the legacy you’re going to leave? And whether your last words will be worth quoting…or worth forgetting?

It’s easy to focus on people’s last words. Looking throughout history, there have been a lot of people worth quoting on their deathbed, in their final hours.

It’s easy to get lulled into thinking that our last words are the most important of our lives. That what really matters is what we will say on our way to heaven.

I love the focus of this video, though, that our team at Longhollow put together.

A good life lived will be better heard than famous last words.

p.s. Jason Dyba is a creative genius.

Famous Last Words from Long Hollow Creative on Vimeo.

 

 

The Bloody Old Testament

In my bible reading plan right now, I’m reading through the book of Leviticus. Which is usually the graveyard of well-intentioned Bible reading plans, right? How many times have you made it to Leviticus, gaining momentum every day you read, utterly inspired and broken by the Scriptures, only to get stopped dead in your tracks with Leviticus 1, verse 4?

So basically, Leviticus is like a State Trooper that parks on the side of the interstate behind a tree, ready to get you when you least expect it.

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image credit: University of Houston, Clear Lake

What I’ve found throughout the book, though, is that it’s bloody and nasty. There’s a lot of talk about blood entrails, and death. And there’s one reason for that: sin.

Your sin needed to be paid for by a sacrifice. In other words, your sin deserved death…either yours or something else’s. Because of this, there was a constant reminder of the nastiness and bloodiness and destructive nature of your sin.

Sneaking Some Sin In

When we ‘get away’ with a sin, we’re lulled into thinking that our sin isn’t that big of a deal. When you cheat a little and don’t get caught, you can think everything is ok. When you have a lustful thought, and nobody knows, you begin to devalue the powerful stranglehold that sin can have. You forget its potential for destruction.

Not so in the Old Testament system.

If you present a goat as your offering, bring it to the LORD, lay your hand on its head, and slaughter it in front of the Tabernacle. Aaron’s sons will then splatter the goat’s blood against all sides of the altar. – Leviticus 3:12-13, NLT

I have a 4 year old son. I can’t even imagine what kind of an impact witnessing an event like this would have on his life. It would absolutely scar him. Think of how violent this would be. The sights, the sounds (most animals don’t go “silently into the night”), the smells. The stench of death in the air that would hang around like a late-morning fog. The stain of blood on the hands and face of the priest. The residual stain of months, and years, of sacrifices made on the same altar. These sensory experiences don’t go in one ear and out the other. They stick with you, and mark you for life.

Loads of Hope

Reading through the Old Testament jogs us back to our senses about the weight of our sin. Sin destroys. And our sin deserves death. Every. Single. Time. Whether we’re caught or not. Whether we think we’ve slipped one through the cracks. Whether we see the path of burned trees we leave in our wake or not.

The flip side of that is even more true, for “where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” (Romans 5:20)

The grace of God is beautiful. Not free. Not neat or clean. It is bought with blood and sweat and tears and pain. And it is gloriously beautiful.

Jesus paid our cost. His death leads to “justification and life for all men.” (Romans 5:18) That’s a reason to rejoice. And it’s worth saying again. Rejoice! (Re: Philippians 4:4) Jesus’ death pays for your sin no matter how far you’ve run. No matter how deep you’ve dug your hole. No matter how many people you’ve hurt or times you’ve fallen.

Be reminded of your stench. And the sweet smell of grace.

 

 

The tiring life of the performance trap

This is a guest post from Chris Lautsbaugh, who lives in Muizenberg, South Africa. He and his wife, Lindsey (and their two sons), serve with Youth With a Mission (YWAM), teaching and training missionaries and church leaders, reaching out to under privileged communities, planting churches, and meeting needs associated with the issues South Africa faces. They have been in missions for 35 combined years. Chris blogs HERE, and you can follow him on Twitter or Facebook, and you can pick up his book HERE

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image credit: Creation Swap user Cody Jensen

Weariness, fatigue, headaches, and general tiredness are often minor symptoms of a more serious, underlying sickness.

This is true in both medicine and in Christianity.

Consider many of the commands the Bible offers:

  • “Be holy as I am holy” (1 Peter 1:16)
  • “As you forgive, so you will be forgiven.” (Luke 6:37)
  • “Let no unwholesome talk come out of your mouths.”(Ephesians 4:29)
  • “Flee youthful lusts” (2 Timothy 2:22)

“Do not…”

“Avoid…”

“Stop…”

Anyone feeling tired? Do you feel worn out at the thought of living up to these standards?

Perhaps we should check this Christianity at the door and find something with a few less rules and fine print. Maybe something like the IRS instruction manual for taxes!

Matt Chandler, in a recent message on Galatians at The Village Church, says “the Law is a diagnosis of the problem,” showing us our need for a cure. These commands do the same thing. They show us our weakness and shortcomings.

No one is saved by keeping the Law. In the same way, no one can perfectly keep the commands of the New Testament. Living perfectly holy and without sin is impossible.

Yet, somehow we try.

Chandler, in his sermon, goes on to say “Grace is the cure for the diagnosis the Law gives.”

God never intended us to reach the goal of perfection. We instead put our faith in the one who has. Jesus gave us his righteousness when we trusted in him for our salvation.

He met God’s standard and gave that accomplishment to us.

Neither holiness nor the Law has ever saved anyone. Faith in Christ, not works, is where we receive Christ’s sacrifice and gift of righteousness.

“For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:21

As you self-diagnose your Christian life, what symptoms do you see?

Weakness, fatigue, guilt, stress, performance, and striving = SICK

Love, gratitude, peace, joy, contentment, and hope = HEALTHY

Sick people need Grace. It is the cure for the disease which ails our society.

These traits of striving and performance are prevalent in all areas of society, even creeping into our churches. While Paul does tell us to “work out our salvation” (Philippians 2:12), a balance with grace is essential.

This working out is not a formula for God’s approval, it is a response to it. Growth comes from a motivation of knowing our God, not an attempt to improve the work of the Cross.

If we are diagnosed with the disease of performance, the good doctor orders a healthy dose of truth.

Prescription for the Performance Trap

1. Growth from a place of rest – Responding to God’s grace rather than attempting to earn it brings an evidence of peace in our lives.

2. Meditate on the truth of our salvation. We need to remind ourselves daily about the good news.

3. Read Ephesians 1:3-14 stating what we have “in Christ”– Go ahead, make a list. Note the good gifts we are given.

4. Believe it – It is one thing to know it mentally, it is a completely different thing to walk in the truth.

5. Reject the lies of the Enemy and of society. The lies of “nothing is free” or is it ” good to be true” must be rejected. Grace is amazingly good.

Repeat as needed daily.

If our stress levels and misguided attempts to please God bring on the same symptoms as sickness, how can we offer a cure to those who are truly in need of healing?

Your mother used to tell you to take your medicine. Now it’s time to take your “grace pill” to cure the Christian disease.

What other symptoms are a part of this disease? If the church walked in grace more, what changes would come?

 

10 Things I Wish I’d Been Told in Seminary

My time in seminary was formative for my spiritual, and ministerial, life. I loved my time there, and was an important part of God confirming my call to full-time vocational ministry.

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image credit: andynaselli.com

Seminary isn’t for everyone, but it’s incredibly helpful for some. Including me.

But seminary doesn’t teach you everything. It doesn’t fully prepare you for ministry, or tell you what hats you’ll have to wear. If you go in to seminary expecting it’ll give you every tool it takes to lead the Church well, think again. It ain’t happenin’. In fact, I learned a ton working in a coffee shop while in seminary.

10 Things I wish I’d been told in seminary

1. Your involvement in the community is vital.

Finding boards to serve on, roads to clean, and festivals to support shows that you love your community, your culture, and your people. It communicates that you care more than just about your local church, but that you see your local church is a part of a local community. It shows others you’re not just about yourself.

2. Rarely will the rest of the world care about obscure theology as much as you do.

This is the truth. You’ll run in to some young whippersnappers who care about transubstantiation. By and large, though, people won’t “care how much you know until they know how much you care.” (Rick Warren)

3. Leadership is crazy important.

You may be a solid communicator, but if you can’t lead you’ll severely cripple your congregation. You’ll struggle to recruit and keep volunteers, build a healthy staff, and build a healthy church culture. You’ll struggle when the issues you’re brought aren’t black-and-white, and when you can’t simply quote a verse and move on. Leading people through difficulties and change will shape your ministry.

4. People will care more about the application you draw from the text than they will you pontificating on the nuances of the author’s original intent.

This goes along with #2 (above), but it refers specifically to preaching. It’s not wrong that you publicly dive into the technical end of a text, but be sure to make a beeline to how people can apply that truth to their lives. Help people leave knowing what to do with a given Scripture rather than just a few random facts about it.

5. Weddings and funerals aren’t just about preaching the Gospel to people who show up…they’re about building relationships.

I was told about the value and necessity of preaching the Gospel at both weddings and funerals, and that if you don’t do that you’ve failed your calling as a pastor. What I wasn’t told was how important both events are in building real relationships with people in the most emotional times of their lives that they’ll remember more clearly than just about anything else. Building relationships during these events well builds a strong foundation for ministry, and helps garnish trust among people in your church and throughout your community. (because people other than your own church members will show up for these)

6. Remembering names will get you a long way relationally with people.

This should’ve been a class in seminary. Seriously.

7. You’ve got to be internally motivated to succeed as a pastor.

It’s easy to coast. I’ve seen too many guys slip through the cracks on auto pilot. If you’re going to succeed, you’ve got to create traction, recruit, train, invest, and stretch. Nobody else will do that for you.

8. People will constantly look at you for spiritual answers.

Constantly. The more you can give them hope, the better. You won’t have all of the answers, but you’re expected to. Constantly. Giving answers as to “why” is good…giving hope in the midst of pain is better.

9. Seminary is a bubble.

The real world doesn’t think, act, or talk like people do in seminary. If you act like a seminary student the rest of your life, you’ll be pushed to the fringes of real ministry.

10. Who you recruit to be on your leadership team (both staff and laity) will shape your ministry.

This is true whether you’re talking about deacons, elders, small group leaders, or kids ministry volunteers, recruit well. Don’t settle for hiring someone who’s not a fit on your team. Take risks on people, but know that they will shape your ministry.

Question:

Have you been to seminary? What do you wish they’d taught you?

 

 

The good news about your frustrations

Golden children who lives a perfectly clean, easy, pain-free, frustration-free life don’t die a hero.

Heroes are born on the battlefields of life.

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image credit: CreationSwap user Chris Vasquez

The best stories always involve pain, and conflict, and heartache, and failures, and then victories.

Without the sting of failure, you can’t understand the sweetness of victory.

Without the gut-wrench of pain, you can’t understand the beauty of love.

Without stumbling flat on your face, you can’t understand grace.

God’s willing to breathe hope and life and beauty into your frustrating story if you’ll ask.

our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. – 1 Corinthians 4:17

 

How to encourage Radically simple, beautiful prayer

“This is your house. You’ve got the floor to pray if you want.” I whispered to my friend as we gathered together in his kitchen, people spilling into the dining room, stirring prior to small group. Lots of people showed up that night, eager to engage in each others’ lives, catch up on the week, and dig into the homemade meatball subs simmering on the stove top.

image credit: CreationSwap user Stacey Lewis

Facial expressions speak much louder than words. Unless, of course, you are screaming into a megaphone, in which case those words speak louder than your facial expressions. But in most instances in life, knee-jerk facial expressions speak what’s on your heart loudly. In this moment, I knew I’d inadvertently put my friend in an awkward spot.

“Umm…ok. Let’s do this” he whispered back, shrugging his shoulders to shake off that nervous feeling of inadequacy and I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing.

He positioned himself so that the full group could see and hear him, and began to tie the laces of the new “spiritual leader” shoes he was taking for a spin around the block. “Well, guys, welcome to our home,” he squeezed through a forced smile. “We’re glad you’re here” he said as he communicated genuineness, making eye contact with everyone looking up. “I’ve never done this before…well, out loud, anyway…but let’s pray.”

He prayed the most simple, God-honoring, easy-going, authentic prayer I may have ever heard.

There was nothing profound about his prayer. Nothing particularly to note from an outsider’s perspective.

But knowing the internal battle of his heart, combined with the fact that he’d never taken the spiritual lead publicly like this before, it was beautiful. I believe this step of faith he took into unknown (for him) territory has set his family on a pathway to spiritual growth like he’s never known. Though the prayer may not have sounded radical to you, it was a risky, wall-shattering step towards Jesus.

It was our small group that got him ready for this. And I know how we did it.

There’s a way to structure prayer time that encourages prayer. And there’s a way to structure prayer time that encourages people to think you’re amazing and eloquent. One way honors God. One way honors you and your flowery vocabulary.

The more you use theologically technical, complicated words when you pray out loud, the more you’ll encourage people to shut down during prayer time. Why?

Because they don’t have that vocabulary.

At some level, praying out loud is like public speaking. Glossophobia (fear of public speaking) strikes 3/4 people, and we as a culture are deathly afraid of speaking in public. Maybe it’s a twisted form of pride that we need to work through, but the truth remains: speaking publicly strikes a fear into most people’s heart. Combine that with the fact that people don’t know the words you’re using, they’re afraid to appear “immature” spiritually in front of other people. They don’t know what to say, and it’s easy to shut people down during group prayer time through the words you use.

The leader sets the tone

You, the leader, can lead group members to take radical steps of faith by the way you pray out loud. Pray simply. Pray as if you’re talking to a friend…because you are, right? God’s not impressed by your theologically charged language. He wants your heart, not your words that seek to impress hearers. In fact, when you use words that don’t encourage others to unite with you in prayer, you sound a lot like the hypocrite from Matthew 6. You’ve gotten your reward already, and the reward isn’t that God heard you.

Want to encourage others to begin praying?

Pray simply. Use normal language. And keep your prayers short. Pray for a specific request, thank God that He showed up, and move on.

It’s in that process of simplicity that group members begin to think, “This prayer thing…it’s not so hard. Maybe I can try talking to God, too.”

Last time I checked, talking to God for the first time is a radical, beautiful step of faith.

 

 

 
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