New Testament Church

In the past five years I have been privileged to travel around the state of Missouri, and beyond, to countless different churches. I have participated in dozens of Disciple Now weekends at various locations, filled the pulpit in numerous houses of worship, visited churches in the city of Cleveland ranging from traditional to contemporary to hip-hop, taken on interim roles in three churches, and am currently employed at a church as a youth pastor. I have seen countless church services from the pew and from the pulpit. And even with the church-hopping mentality of today’s church-goers, I have been a part of more churches than most people ever will. Yeah, I get around.

And with all these places I have gone, there was one thing I had to learn very quickly: no one does it the same. If you visit many churches you will realize this too; despite the similarities we find, no two churches are the same. And, as I visited all these churches, I began to be amazed at how rigid some people have become in their way of “doing church.” With so many Christians these days it’s “My way or the highway. And highways are unbiblical. Remember, Jesus said the way is wide that leads to destruction.”

I blame much of this mentality on the New Testament Church. Well, that may be a bit unfair. I blame it on the idea of the New Testament Church. This is a concept I have heard talked about in many different places; it is an ill-defined idea of some sort of perfect, coherent, super-church where Peter is the pastor, Paul is the Sunday school director, and John is the minister of music. And we glorify this “Church” to the point of thinking, “Oh, if I could only have been a Christian back when Paul was around! Not when he started passing the torch to Timothy, that kid had no moxie. Give me Paul any day.” And we look around at our churches and we judge them, saying, “My church is a ‘New Testament Church.’ Sure, you may attend a church, but mine is holier.” or “This church has some problems. They would never have made it if Peter was still around. Most likely, they’d all be lion food; except God would probably strike them dead like Ananias and Sapphira before the lions got to them.”

What we sometimes forget, I think, is that this “New Testament Church” was actually why we have the largest portion of the New Testament. Think about it; how much of the second half of the Bible would we have if Paul had not been reprimanding the church for something stupid they were doing? A good chunk of the New Testament is devoted to telling off the New Testament Church. Far from perfect, it was a group of people still trying to figure out how to love God, and they messed up plenty along the way.

Don’t get me wrong, I think they had a lot of stuff right; and we have a lot to learn from the way they did things. But the New Testament Church, the REAL New Testament Church, was not successful because they had the order of service down pat. They didn’t grow because they had great facilities or programs. In many cases, it wasn’t even because of strong leadership. The New Testament Church was successful because it was filled with people who wanted to learn about God and show Him to others. It wasn’t the way they “did church;” it was the way they left church. It wasn’t their order of service; it was their obedience in service.

So, the next time you look around at your church and think, “I don’t like the way they do that. I bet there’s a better church out there; a more ‘New Testament’ kind of church.” maybe the problem isn’t with your church but you. There is no perfect church, not even in the New Testament; stop looking for it. Instead, work where God has put you so that your church will begin winning territory for the Kingdom of God.

What about you? Are you at a "New Testament Church"? Are you looking for one? Are you helping create one?

A Dead Dog and the Kindness of a King

In 2 Samuel 9, David is the newly crowned king of Israel, the nation’s enemies have all been put down, and God has promised to bless David and his house forever. Things could not be going better for David.

The story is quite different, however, for the household of Saul, Israel’s former royal line. All the closest relatives of Saul have been killed either by Israel’s enemies or by treacherous men with whom they had surrounded themselves. In all the family of Saul, one lone man is left: Saul’s grandson, the son of Jonathon, named Mephibosheth. But it is even worse than that; Mephibosheth was lame. Not that he wasn’t hip; no, he actually was the victim of a childhood accident that left him without the use of either of his feet.

One could wonder, then, considering the contrast between these two families, what it would take to bring them together. This question will only be heightened by an understanding of the culture of the day. In times when monarchy is the prevailing form of government, the role of king is understandably very desirable to people. This position, however, is generally established by heritage: namely, by relation to the previous ruler. But, on the few occasions that a king is overthrown by someone outside his family, it was common political practice to eliminate the competition, so to speak, by executing the entire royal family.

One can imagine, knowing this, the amazement David’s counselors must have felt when they heard him ask one day, “Is there not still someone of house of Saul, to whom I may show the kindness of God?” (2 Samuel 9:3)

I think the key to this question is in the way David describes this kindness. It is “the kindness of God.” David recognizes that the kindness that has been shown him is from God; and he desires to show that kindness to the son of his friend Jonathon, even though the world would tell him to do the opposite. David’s actions are not based on the culture around him but on the way he has seen God act. And David tries to mirror those actions.

This is important to remember. It is, in fact, the core of following Christ: to be like Him, to display Him, to show His kindness.

But I feel David is not the only character in this story from whom we may learn something. When Mephibosheth is finally tracked down and brought before the king, David reveals to him that he is to be an honored and permanent guest at his table. Mephibosheth responds, “What is your servant, that you should look upon such a dead dog as I?” (2 Samuel 9:8)

Here was a man who knew that he was pitiful. He knew what most people would do to him in that situation, and he knew that nothing he could say would alter his fate. That is the way we must all accept the kindness of God. There is nothing we could do to deserve it. There is nothing we could do to get it on our own. We are as disgraceful as dead dogs, but He gives us grace anyway.

That is the Kindness we must show. For, that is the Kindness we have been shown.



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It is not a small thing to be called the Body of Christ. It is no small thing indeed. Little is the thought we devote to the burden placed upon that privilege. But it is no trifling matter to see with His eyes, to speak on His behalf, and to work for His Name.

C.S. Lewis said, “You don’t have a soul. You are a soul; you have a body.” Yet, when the world thinks of us, it thinks first not in terms of unseen but of seen. Though our true selves are grown and contained and maintained in are souls, we are only shown for what we are through the usage of our bodies.

Likewise, we are the means by which Christ has chosen to show His nature to the world. He doesn’t have to use us, but He does. And we think far too little of that call. When the world wishes to judge us, it does not see our soul; it judges by what our body does. When the world wishes to judge God, it does not always see His Holiness; it judges by what His body does.

“If anyone speaks, let him speak as the oracles of God. If anyone ministers, let him do it as with the ability which God supplies, that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belong the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.” -- 1 Peter 4:11

Why Do You Yet Crawl...?

For over two months now, there have been at least four sparrows living inside of the Wal-Mart here in Hannibal. I know this because I see them there…all the time…all over the store. I’m not sure how this is not some sort of health code violation, but what are you gonna do? I sincerely doubt that those birds are going to find their way out; I don’t know why they would want to leave anyway. And, short of some kind of net-launching cannon or releasing a falcon in the store, I see no way to catch those things.

Let’s face it: if you were a bird, that would be the place to be. There’s all the food you could want, it’s super warm and cozy, there are no threats from predators, and the ceilings are high enough to fly above the crowds and even build a nice little nest for yourself and the little lady.

There’s only one kicker. Those birds: I wouldn’t call them free. Sure they have anything they need; they may even have all the liberty they could ask for, they can fly around to their heart’s content. But there is still a ceiling between them and the sky. They are still in a cage; it’s just bigger than they would expect.

Sometimes I feel like those birds: trapped at Wal-Mart. There are so many things I would like to do, and so many things I feel I am meant to do; but my job traps my time. After all, I have to provide for needs. I need money to get food and to pay rent and bills. But it all seems like flying in a circle—a big circle, maybe, but still a circle.

Actually though, it’s just easy for me to blame Wal-Mart for my problems because I don’t like being there anyway. There is still so much of my time that I could use for the important things, but I waste it. The cage I’m in is built mainly of my own laziness and procrastination. If there is anything holding me back from the sky, it is me. God has blessed me so greatly, and I have opportunities most people will never know (as do we all) but I am still content to live in a smaller world with a ceiling above me.

I don’t know what all of this will prove to be about, but this is what my life is like right now. There is a sentence in my head. I don’t know if I heard it somewhere, or if God just put it there. “Why do you yet crawl while you may fly?” Most of us are still stuck on the ground. God has so much more for us. Stop being content here in the dirt.

And that goes for me.

The Church of Tomorrow

Admit it. Some of you, when you read that title thought back to the old “home of tomorrow” or “car of the future” campaign ads. You were thinking, “What? A blog about churches with recliners instead of pews? With all stainless steel décor, robots to greet you when you enter, automatic collection plates that take the money right out of your wallet!” But no, that is not at all what I intended. Although, it would be pretty awesome if that church had a convict-o-matic, where the preacher could flip a switch and any member of the congregation he chose would be “aided” down the aisle to pray, led by a combination of spring propulsion and robotic arms a la George Jetson. But I digress.

By “The Church of Tomorrow” I was referring to a phrase that seems to be a favorite of certain church members. Typically it is used by the elderly, often deacons, for whom I have the utmost respect. But it is also common among the middle-aged and young parents. And I believe they are well-intentioned, though misguided.

Here is my problem with the term: we don’t apply it to the right people.

That phrase, as it is used in the typical church, usually is part of an impassioned plea or a rationale for focusing on the youth group. “These young people are the church of tomorrow!” someone will say. “The youth are the church of the future.”

As a youth pastor, I appreciate the sentiment. But there is a flaw with the statement. The youth, if they are Believers, are not the church of the future. They are the church now. The attitude that they are the future church is a part of what contributes to the generation gap in our churches.

At this point it would be possible for the ranting to begin. But there is another point I need to make, a point that is perhaps more important. And that is that there is a church of tomorrow. It consists of the lost.

So, please, stop referring to youth as the church of the future. If they are our future, it looks bleak. I’m not bashing the youth; I’m just saying, statistically 80% will leave church when they graduate high school. Also, Church, you are not having enough kids to propagate a “church of tomorrow” without reaching out to the lost. I’m not saying to forget the youth; please, please don’t. But can we put as much emphasis on reaching the lost? We should, if we are truly concerned about the future of the church; and, more importantly, if we are concerned with Chist.

The Pride of False Humility

Humble. That is one word we would all like to be used in describing us. We want to be thought of as humble people. Here’s the problem: many times in our desire to appear humble we are actually behaving pridefully.

Here’s the scenario. Someone come to you for something. It could be for advice. It could be asking for your help. It could be wanting you to fill a position or a need. In response, we humble admit that we are not smart enough, not talented enough, not gifted enough, or whatever the case may be.

The message we try to convey is this: “No, I’m not good enough. I would mess things up. I totally recognize my inability. I’m trying to be humble here.”

Essentially, what we’re saying though, is this: “I recognize your need, but I don’t want to take the chance of making myself look like a fool. Maybe I would be the best one to meet this need right now, but I don’t feel like trying it. I don’t think I’m good enough. So, I would rather maintain my dignity than do what I can to help someone.”

That is not humility. That is the most conceited action we could take. We are more concerned with our appearances than with doing the work God has prepared for us. It is our pride that tells us we will look like a fool, and so we do nothing.

Listen to what the Bible would say about that. I Corinthians 3:18 says, “Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise.”

Humility requires willingness to be humiliated. Humility means putting the needs of others above our own need to look good.

Not A Knight

If I had lived in the Dark Ages, I would not have been a knight. I would have dreamed about it. I would have longed to be the protector of the helpless. But I think I would have been a farmer. I would have been a farmer who dreamed of being a knight, but I would have been satisfied with being a herdsman. At least then I would have had the animals to protect.

There are but few knights that we remember, however. Not many, even of that most noble breed, left a mark on history. And we may remember a few in tales or ballads, but those were composed by someone other than the knights themselves. So, perhaps the poets are the ones who have left the greatest signs of history. We know the names of Lancelot and Beowulf and Saint George, but few if any remember who told the tales. Those forgotten bards bear more weight than the heroes of their tales, for it is they who have shaped us with the stories.

If I had been alive back then, I would not have been a knight. I think I would have been a farmer. I hope I would have been a storyteller.