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.

Don't Water the Begonias

If you are going to take care of plants it is helpful to know something about them. I don’t. That is, I don’t really know about them; I do have to take care of them. My training involving the plants consisted basically of being told to water them every day, and to water them until it runs out the holes in the bottom of the pots. I really don’t know much about plants.

Luckily, Wal-Mart has Art. Art is a 76-year-old black man who knows everything about every plant. When we have a question, we go to Art, and he answers with his usual fervor. He sure doesn’t act 76. I think he must have either discovered the fountain of youth or he has a secret lab in his basement where he sucks the vitality out of little children he has shipped in from the streets of Mexico City. But I digress. The point is, when the majority of the Begonias in our store were dying and rotting, it was Art who knew that their peril was caused by over-watering.

In life, I have found that I usually know as little about what I need as I do about how to take care of a hibiscus. Thankfully, in life, we have God. The verse has become a bit of a Christian cliché, but the truth of Jeremiah 29:11 not diminished by its overuse. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

Sometimes the things that happen to us don’t make sense. But God knows what He’s doing. Just accept what He gives, and trust.

Enslaved to Liberty

Here in the land of the free and the home of the brave there are few things we value more highly than our liberty. Liberty is one of the cornerstones of our nation. We even have an idol of her in the harbor outside New York. Well, perhaps we don’t bow down to “Lady Liberty,” but she is still somewhat of a deity to us. We like to do things on our own, in our own way. And we like to have the freedom to do so. This is especially true of men, and I don’t know of any guy out there that doesn’t wish they could be William Wallace crying out with his last breath, “FREEEEEDDOOOOOOOM!!!”

As wonderful as our liberty is, and as grateful as I am for freedom, I believe that the majority of the American church has taken our independence too far. Our commercialism and economics and politics and social theory have bled over into our faith. There is only one problem: our faith does not follow the same laws as the government or the stock market or Hollywood or the media (thank goodness). And yet, we have all but replaced God with what we can do on our own. We are free to do as we please and do what we please in a way that is pleasing to us. And our freedom has given us power.

Or so we think.

But seriously, what can we not accomplish? We have enough money to solve all our problems without prayer, without God’s help. We have a world of information to answer our questions. The philosophy of the ages and of this age is at our fingertips on the internet. We can supply our own food, shelter, whatever; who needs faith? Who needs to rely on anyone or anything? We are free.

Or are we?

Maybe we are. But if we are, our liberty has made us weak. By relying only on our own power we have forfeited any true power. By replacing God with freedom we have become indebted to self-sufficiency, enslaved to liberty, and subservient to independence.

Think about it; the most powerful being to ever walk the planet, Jesus Christ, did not even rely on His own strength. Listen to what He said in John 5:19. “Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do.”

In spite of all His power, Jesus was still completely dependant upon His Father. In fact, that dependency was the very source of His power. Wrap you mind around this: Jesus was so dependant on the Father that He could do nothing apart from the Father; hence, everything He did was in accordance with the will of the Father and as such was empowered by the very hand of God. It is incredible to think of such perfect dependence result in such absolute power, but that is the way God works.

So if you want more than just “freedom,” offer yourself as a slave to God. It is my prayer that the church will become so dependent on God that He can empower us. It is my prayer that we will forfeit enough of our liberties that He will be able to use us.

Stacking Dung

I recently got a job at Wal-Mart. Working there has stifled my desire to write for some time, though I have gotten a few ideas in the past weeks. One of them actually came from something I do as a part of my job.

I work in the lawn and garden department and one of the responsibilities I have is to load mulch and potting soil and fertilizer and such things. We have big piles of all this stuff stacked on pallets in the parking lot, and the heaps can tend to get a little disorderly. When this happens, someone has to straighten up the lot.

This task reminded me of what Paul said about this life in the third chapter of Philippians. In the beginning of that chapter Paul lists his credentials according to the flesh: all the things that he once thought would make him right with God. It is a very impressive list, full of wonderful things. But in verse eight Paul says he counts all these things as “rubbish” but the original Greek word actually translates better as “dog dung.”

Perhaps you wonder how it relates. But as I thought about the impressive pile of crap that Paul had accumulated, I couldn’t help but think about the stacks out on the lot and about how much time I spend building up my own pile.

We spend so much time gathering together our little piles of manure, stacking them neatly, and trying to make them look impressive. But in the end, it’s all still dung. No matter how nicely packaged a bag of manure may be, it doesn’t change what I’m loading into that truck when people come to Wal-Mart to try to get their garden ready. And no matter how much dung we gather, we still have nothing to offer to God.

So what we need to do is leave those steaming heaps behind us; and, like Paul, say that we are “forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead. I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Jesus Christ.”

What is Good?

We all want things that are good. We don’t want things that are bad. It’s a simple concept, one that no one would dispute. It is basic common sense. But, in this life, we all must face things that we cannot help but label as “bad.” These “bad” things cannot be avoided; there are a part of living in a fallen world. But they make me wonder: who decided whether a thing is “bad” or “good”? And is there any real difference between these things, or is it all in our heads?

As Christians, should we not be protected from these “bad” circumstances? If, after all, “bad” is a result of sin, should not we whose sins have been atoned have release from these dire circumstances? Does not the Bible say, “God cause all things to work together for good…”? Yes, that promise is there. But what does the Bible mean when it says “good”? Is it what we would call “good”?

Ecclesiastes 6:12 asks the question, “Who knows what is good for a man in this life…for who can tell a man what will be after him?” The Hebrew word for “good” in that verse—tob—can have several meanings: sweet, beautiful, bountiful, better, or best. So, it is difficult for us to know what is good for us in this life. Many things that seem “good” can become bad, and vice versa.

So, now to the real question: what does God say is good? Well, Micah 6:8 tells us that God has “shown you, o man, what is good (tob).” But since I took Romans 8:28 out of context earlier, I would like to use that passage to answer the question.

When Scripture says that God cause all things to work together for good it puts a few stipulations on that promise. To begin with, the previous verses are talking about how we don’t even know what we should pray for, but the Spirit will intercede in accordance with God’s will. So, the context is not one of getting what we want, but of being informed of what God’s purpose is. So, if we do not even know how to pray as we aught, how can we claim to understand what is good for us?

Secondly, the last half of the verse puts a qualifier on the promise, “to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.” So, this is meant for those who are called according to the purpose of God. But what is that purpose? What does He intend? The following verses explain; they list a string of events that take place in the life a Believer. We are foreknown, predestined, called, justified, and glorified. All these things take place that we may be “conformed to the image of His Son.”

That is the goal. That is the purpose to which we have been called. That is the good toward which God will cause all things to work. So, those “bad” things we go through, they are put there because God wants to use them to make us more like His Son. That is the reason we were made: to be His image. That is the purpose we messed up with our sin. And that is the purpose Christ had in mind when He offered us salvation. God is ever striving to restore His image in us. And that is the greatest good we can find in this world.

Raised from Stones

What gall those Pharisees and Sadducees had. Oh, and it wasn’t just Jesus who had to deal with them; John the Baptist had his fair share of dealings with the religious nuts. They came to him in Matthew chapter three. They wanted to be baptized, but John saw right through them. They wanted to be baptized, but they didn’t want to change.

Those presumptuous Israelites figured that their standing as children of Abraham afforded them assurance of high standing in the Kingdom of God. They thought God would certainly desire followers of such noble lineage. But John set them straight.

In verses seven through twelve he really lets them have it. “You’re a bunch of snakes! Who warned you that God was about to take you out? If you really want to escape, start acting like you’re sorry for being such idiots and making Him angry in the first place.” (This, of course, is a slight paraphrase.) “You keep bragging about being descended from Abraham, but that’s nothing. God could make children of Abraham from this pile of rocks, and they’d be better looking too!” (Maybe that last part isn’t in there).

The gist of John’s message: “God is fixin’ to clean house fellas (I like to imagine John spoke with the equivalent of an Alabama accent in Hebrew). You’d better straighten up and quit putting all you stock in who your daddy was. God doesn’t need you anymore than He needs a gravel pit.”

How true that is. God made the first man from dirt; don’t you think He could do that again? He doesn’t need us. But we need Him desperately. The next time you think you are entitled to something from God because of who you are or what you have done, remember: He made you from mud; there is plenty of material left to make your replacement.

Kicking Against the Goads

In Bible times one of the most vital and useful tools that could be owned by a farmer or a herdsman was a device known as a goad. It’s not something we hear about very often these days. It was basically a stick with a sharp point either hardened with fire or covered with metal. This spiked tip was then used to poke an animal to make it move. The goad was meant to direct the animal, steering it or speeding it up.

When the beast was confronted with this motivational tactic, it had three basic choices. It could give in to the prodding and move at the desired speed in the right direction. It could keep doing what it was doing as though nothing had happened, thus ensuring the goad would be used again (and likely in a more aggressive manner). Or the animal could kick at the goad, trying to injure whatever it was that had poked him. There are a couple of problems with the animal reacting in this way. First of all, the whole point of a goad is to keep the herder far enough away from the herdee that the animal cannot reach him. So, an animal that kicked against a goad could only hurt himself. In order to kick, the animal has to be moving toward the goad; well, moving closer to a sharp object that is jabbing you is not going to help. Also, in order to kick, the animal would have to flex most of the muscles in its leg. This would cause the goad to dig deeper into the muscle than if they were relaxed.

Interesting, right? Well, I’m not meaning to just talk about ancient techniques for animal herding. That historical tidbit is necessary in order to understand a message that God once gave to the apostle Paul. In Acts 26 Paul is retelling the account of his encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus. It is there that we hear the words of Jesus, when He says, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.”

So, God is comparing Saul (later to be called Paul) to a stubborn ox that is being herded but keeps kicking against the goad. God is trying to direct Saul, to move him in the right direction; but Saul only wants to attack what is pushing him.

This makes me wonder if Saul knew all along that Christianity was the way. God had been guiding him, trying to get him to see the truth, but he just would not. He did not want to admit that his whole way of life was useless, his vast learning was missing a vital piece, his righteousness was not enough.

Like Paul we often find ourselves being herded along by God. And, like Paul, we often think our own way is so much better, and we rail against the direction God is taking us. We ignore His guidance and His direction. But all the while, He keeps trying to turn us. It would be so much easier if we would just stop kicking against the goads and walk where Christ wants us.


“The words of the wise are like goads…they are given by one Shepherd.” Ecclesiastes 12:11

It sure seems like I've been writing on here a whole lot less recently. Well, since I'm through with college, there hasn't been as much to write about. Or so it seems anyway.

One may take my lack of blogging to mean that I am no longer clueless. Perhaps I wander less. Perhaps I have found the answers to my questions.

Rest assured, this is not the case.

Yes, despite all the things God has taught me, I am still clueless. I still ponder things to which I may never find a reasonable conclusion. And my life is filled with at least as many questions as it was when this whole thing began.

Here's the problem. My questions used to be interesting. There used to be some kind of deeper... something from... somewhere. Now all I can seem to get out is "What? Where? When? How?" Not very exciting or vital to the reader who is outside my thought process. But to me, these are the questions that shape the course of my life. They are the same boring questions we all ask.

So, yes, I am still clueless. I am still stumbling through a messy, mixed-up world. And I still hope we can find the Way together as we seek to walk with Christ.

Yesterday's Manna

As I was contemplating how we are sustained by God, and how He nourishes us spiritually, I couldn’t help but remember the story of Exodus 16. As seems to always be the case in Exodus, the Israelites are groaning. I say this in no way to mean that I am better; I groan plenty, it’s just that no one has written a book about me doing it yet.

In this particular instance, the people are groaning because they need food. Not a bad reason to groan, if you have none. So, God provided for them, as He always did. He rained down a delicious meal from heaven, an unknown food that tasted like wafers made with honey (possibly Honeycomb breakfast cereal). They could it “manna.”

God gave some specific instructions along with this blessing, however. He told them to gather only what they needed, but to gather double on the day before the Sabbath, and to eat those leftovers on the Sabbath.

Of course, the Hebrews neglected these commands. Not only did they try to gather manna on the Sabbath, but they also tried to gather extra manna on other days. And, as is usually the case when one disobeys God’s instructions, the consequences were eminent.

During the night this sweet pastry attracted and bred worms, turning sour and creating a tremendous odor (the manufacturers of Honeycomb avoided this with the invention of the artificial preservatives we all love so much).

Nonetheless, I believe there is an important lesson to learn from this story. So often we look back on our past spirituality, or even the spirituality of our family, and we become satisfied with it. We come to rely on it. We believe what we have done in the past is enough, if we could just sustain it or replicate it. We try to survive on the manna we gathered yesterday. But there was a reason God told the Israelites to gather their nourishment everyday.

God wants us to continually be relying on Him. He wants us to always be searching for some new revelation. Simply reviewing what we have done or learned cannot be enough. In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, he writes in chapter thirteen, “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”

The bitter truth is, there are many among us who simply need to grow up. We have become satisfied with what we have accomplished, with what we know; and all the while there is so much more to behold. There is so much more to the glory of God than we have seen. There is so much more to His provision, to His power. And we are content to stagnate and breed worms. We need to quit fiddling around with yesterday’s manna. Go and see what God has sent from heaven today.

Food we Do Not Know

How often do we skip a meal? I know I don’t very often. We like food, and we don’t like being hungry. But I was wondering the other day, “Why don’t we hunger for God that way?” After all, we need God even more than we need food; He is the source of our strength and nourishment. Why do we ignore Him in a way we would never ignore our hunger pangs?

In John chapter four, Jesus’ disciples were taking care of their grocery shopping in a Samaritan village while Jesus waiting at the local watering hole. That’s where the Savior had an encounter with a Samaritan woman and confronted her misconceptions about worship and life. But after His conversation with the woman, His disciples tried to get Him to eat something. Jesus replied, “I have food to eat of which you do not know.” The disciples question among themselves, wondering where He got the food. He answered them, “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me, and to finish His work.”

I really believe that Jesus had a hunger inside Him. I believe that if He ever went very long without touching someone for His Father, He was filled with pangs like if we had not eaten. And when He fulfilled a task that His Father had given to Him, He felt a satisfaction better than any we could know from the biggest meal.

So why do we not take advantage of this food we do not know? Why do we neglect the one thing that can nourish us, strengthen us, and satisfy us like nothing else can? Why do we not hunger to serve the One who sent us?

Lord, fill us with desire for Your food.

The Most Noble Contradiction

There were many contradictions at the cross. Everything about it went against the nature of God. The One who knew no sin was made to be sin. The True Light that had come into the world was shrouded in darkness. The Life was crucified. The Three-in-One God was divided, separated for the first and only time.

But these kinds of contradictions are what makes the cross so powerful. No other life could have, by its death, given life to the world. Only a sinless sacrifice could wipe out the debt of sin. These contradictions were a part of the plan all along, and they were nothing new in the life of Christ.

The very act of Jesus being born was a contradiction. His very nature, wholly God and wholly man, is a seeming paradox that we cannot fully understand. But perhaps the greatest contradiction is explained in the opening chapter of John’s Gospel. John says that Jesus came “full of grace and truth.”

The grace of God is His lovingkindness toward us, His mercy, the way He puts up with us when we fail. The truth of God is His unchanging faithfulness, His immutability, His uncompromising justice. His grace is what makes Him want to bring us to Himself. His truth is what keeps Him from welcoming sinners. The two thoughts are perpendicular. It does not seem like they should exist in one God. But the contradiction is not because the two are mutually exclusive; it is because our sin is in conflict with both.

That is why the contradiction of the cross was necessary. That is where the grace of God and the truth of God met. That is where they worked together to rid the world of the sin that had placed them at odd. That is where Christ became, as it says in Romans 3, “both just and the justifier.” The contradiction of the cross is where God rejected His own nature because of His deep love for us. He gave up so much of Himself so that His real self could be revealed to us, so that we could know Him.

It is a mystery too great for words. It is the most noble contradiction.