I’ve been a Christian and in full time ministry long enough to have become fascinated by a particular phenomenon I see in the lives of so many Christians and congregations.  If you’ve been around us Christians, you’ve seen it too.  Its the reality that for some strange reason, the older we get, the less passionate we seem to be about our love relationship with Jesus.  Its as if unabashed hilarity is relegated only to the very young of age or very young of faith.  If you’re older in your faith or just plain older, well then…simmer down.

I see Christians who have been walking with the Lord for a while glance knowingly at each other when they encounter a brand new, fired up, can’t stop smiling, toe-tapping, evangelizing, fresh-outta-the-box recipient of God’s grace.  Its a glance that says, “They’ll learn. They’ll grow out of it. Let’s just love them through this giddy schoolgirl phase.”  And all as if we should be wanting that zeal to die down so that those new babes in Christ don’t cause a scene and get all “crazy”.  Or worse yet: make us look like we don’t really love Jesus enough.

And I’m not even just talking about one particular age group.  I’ve seen teenagers in one context go absolutely nuts in a worship service; screaming, dancing, clapping, jumping, shouting, crying.  And then when in another context those same teens are barely a notch above comatose, apparently without any fervor at all.

On a Sunday morning several months ago, one of our seniors in high school was helping to lead worship singing during one of our student services.  As we sang a song that previously evoked a “conga line” while we were away on a mission trip earlier that month, she decided that she was going to start dancing laps around the room, in hopes that others would join in the celebration of the God we were singing to and about.

They didn’t.  No one joined her.  They all simply stared at her, giggled and glanced at each other as she circled the crowd several times before the end of the song.

But here’s the thing: to most students in the room it seemed awkward and embarassing to do something so undignified (even while singing David Crowder’s song “Undignified”!).  But to her, it was an opportunity to express her passion for Christ and to invite others to do the same.  The fact that no one did that morning had no bearing on her whatsoever.  In fact, at the end of the song she took a moment and gave an impromptu explanation of King David’s attitude and how while people thought he should behave in a way a bit more fitting for a king, the king just wanted to dance and his feet would not be still.

So, why is it that when we are first introduced to Jesus and are ushered into the family of God there is elation, but the longer we stay in the family of God, there is deflation?  Why are the most energized followers of Christ almost always the ones who just met Him and who know the least about Him?  Why is it that our unashamed abandon gives way to unambitious apathy?

I believe there are lots of possible explanations (none of them really valid), but I’d like to throw one out there and call it our fascination with sophistication.  Wherever we go, we like to look like we’ve got it together.  And breaking free of decorum in any context is just…well…uncivilized.  What would people think of us if while singing the words “When the world has seen the light, they will dance with joy like we’re dancing now…” and we actually DANCED?  But there it is.  There’s the problem.  We’re wrapped up in our own view, and in others’ view of us and we’re dismissive of God’s view, God’s desire, God’s worthiness, God’s presence, God’s invitation, and God’s freedom.

We’re fickle followers.  Our follow-through in following Him is often hinged on our mood.  Its often an egocentric roller coaster built of the flimsiness of our current circumstance rather than on the fact that right now while you’re reading this, angels and creatures surround the throne of God and cry out to one another and to Him, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!  He was, He is, and He is to come!”

We’re pridefully forgetful. We walk further and further from the cross as we live our daily lives and consequently forget what happened there, what it means to humanity, and how it supposed to be changing us day by day.

But this isn’t about dancing, or shouting, or causing a scene.  Its about Jesus.  Everything is.  God’s Word tells us that it is from Him all things have come and it is to Him all things will return. (Romans 11:36) Jesus Christ is the final word and will have the final say to this thing we call time and space.  Deny it, scoff it, ignore it, dismiss it, or believe it. And if we believe it, then for cryin’ out loud let’s not just smile at the zealous, the newborn in Christ, the passionate, undignified followers of Jesus.  Let’s return to that place.  Let’s grow our love and surrender to Jesus Christ into a stupid, scene-causing, let-er-rip, dancefest of joy over our redemption and our Redeemer!

I’m stopping here, but let me leave you with what I think is a near-perfect marriage of yesterday’s hymnal theology and today’s outright silliness that ensues when we stop caring about what other humans think of how we love Jesus….Ladies and Gents, I give you “I Saw The Light!”

It’s been over 2 months since I’ve written last.  During that time I’ve been on 4 pretty substantial journeys; one with our student leadership team, one with 115 others on our middle school mission trip, one with an amazing group of high schoolers, and one on vacation with my favorite 5 people on earth…in that order.

There simply is no way to capture and convey the incredible things that I experienced during these past 2 months.  They’ve been filled with the pleasure of watching God do above and way beyond my expectations.  Its hard to believe–even now–that those 4 trips (especially the first 3) are behind me.  That’s because for the past year or more these 4 experiences have been like islands on the distant horizon.  And now they’re all behind me.

I’ve thought thoughts, I’ve had conversations, I’ve witnessed unforgettable things. And I’ve blogged about none of it.  Despite my best intentions, I’ve not even been able to stop and record any of it for you, my readers. I would apologize, but I tend to over-apologize for not writing and for better or worse, not being able to write has just been my reality this summer.  As they say: “It is what it is.”

But I do want to share a recent experience with you.  It was actually the MOST recent memorable thing I experienced while on vacation.

It was our final night on the road and we had stopped in Goldsboro, NC to visit my parents. My mom had just had knee replacement surgery (pray for her recovery, if you would) and I wanted to stop in if even for a brief visit.  We booked a room at a hotel in town that will remain nameless, but it starts with an H and ends with an Ampton Inn.  We had gotten settled in for the evening and it was a few minutes before 10 p.m. when all 6 of us were drifting off to sleep.  It didn’t take long at all before we were all in Lah-lah Land, worn out from our drive that started that morning in central Florida.

I was awakened by voices at 2:15 a.m.  They seemed to be coming from outside our second floor window. I got up, tiptoed to the window and peeked out to see 3 people sitting at a table next to the hotel pool.  Despite the fact that it was quite literally the middle of the night, these three were oblivious and their volume was anything but quiet.  Slightly in shock at the disregard to people like me who come to a hotel to  actually sleep, I slipped back into bed hoping they’d soon be on their way.

I gave them 15 minutes or so and then got up again.  Careful not to wake my family, I picked up my cell phone from the table, slipped into the bathroom, and called the hotel front desk.  I was greeted merrily by “Josh”.

“Uh, yeah. Hi Josh. I’m a guest at your hotel and I’m just calling to tell you that there are 3 people out by your pool who are talking very loudly, and they’re keeping me awake.”

Josh responded, “Yes sir, thank you for letting me know. I’ll take care of it immediately.”  *click*

Feeling pretty proud that I took care of business (or rather, asked Josh to), I started to get back in bed but before  my head touched the pillow, I thought,  “Oh wait, I wanna see the vigilante justice carried out!”  So I got up, hurried over to the window, and peered out waiting for Josh or someone large to give those hooligans the riot act for daring to bother the guests in room 218.

And I waited.  And waited.  And……nothing.  No Josh. No vigilantes. No bloodshed.  Nothing but a huge let-down.

As I stood there with what I’m sure was a wide-open mouth, I watched in shocked horror as the threesome not only didn’t quiet down and didn’t scram, but they then proceeded to push away from their beer bottle-riddled table, disrobe, and jump into the pool!  They quickly found a beach ball and began swatting it around to each other.  Have you ever heard a beach ball being slapped at 3 a.m.?!?  It’s obnoxious!

I simply couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  I mean this almost topped a previous hotel stay debacle from years ago; the one that will forever live in infamy as “The night we met the MMA industry”.

Defeated by three inebriated individuals, I got back in bed.  Have you ever planned a speech in your head? A speech you imagined giving to a certain someone whereby the longer you talked the smaller they became?  My “someone” was Josh and the three half-naked beach ballers and by the end of my imaginary speech, they were the size of fleas.  Have you ever daydreamed your vindicating speech and then went a step further and through the wonders of imagination shaped the entire guest care policy of an international hotel chain?  Nah, me neither.  But I did think of what this hotel’s mission statement might be, if they even had one, and how they had failed to live up to it as evidenced by me being awakened by the three long-necked losers outside my second floor window.  I was indignant.  Mortified.  Boiling over with….zzzzzzz. (I fell asleep mid-boil.)

In the morning, I woke up to my alarm and my first order of business was to check the window. Had it all been a dream? Had I not really changed the complexion of the guest care policy of an international hotel chain?  I looked down to that same poolside table and saw a lone, empty long-neck beer bottle.

On my way down to breakfast, I stopped by the only door that led out to the hotel pool.  Clearly stated on the wall next to the door I saw a sign that said in no uncertain terms:  “POOL HOURS: 10 A.M. TO 10 P.M.”  And despite my best squinting, I saw no fine print that said, “Unless you want to swim half-drunk at 3 a.m. In that case, go right ahead. Oh and by the way, there’s a beach ball out there too. Be sure to swat that around in your drunken stupor.”

Here’s a mission statement I’d like to suggest to the Goldsboro, NC Hampton Inn and really to any hotel that exists anywhere: “Our mission as a hotel is to provide and protect a pleasant and restful stay for all of our guests.”  If only that hotel had that as their mission, and if only they carried it out, I would have nothing to write about after staying the night there.

A sense of mission keeps us looking at what’s most important.  Because God knows there are tons of distractions in this life.  Some people mistake them for life and death issues, but they’re not. What is your mission? What is your purpose? What are you on this planet for? I’d dare you to unearth it, declare it, and live it.  It will not merely make the difference in YOUR life, but also that of your marriage, family, business, ministry, or organization.  Begin with “I exist to…”  You and I both know that its tempting to go shallow as we answer that, but we also know when we’re living shallow lives.  Deep down we know there’s more than what we’ve settled for.

So, as it turns out, if that hotel had stuck to their mission and their purpose for existing; if they had declared it and lived it I would not have anything to talk about.  But they didn’t and I hope we’ll use it as an opportunity to recenter ourselves on our mission.

This is James Hines, age 61. He recently drove his golf cart into a group of younger, slower golfers and bashed one of them in the head with a golf club. All because they consistently slowed up his round of golf.

My guess? James needs to lighten up.

I grew up in a golfer’s house.  My dad to this day would gladly trade any other human activity for a bad round of golf.  And as a dutiful golfing father, he has passed on a knowledge and dare I even say an enjoyment of the sport of golf.  And today I can openly admit:

“Hi. My name is Jerry. I have a set of clubs in my shed.”

But the downside of playing golf with someone who loves golf is that they love to play golf well. And expect to.  On every stroke.  And when they don’t….oh boy.  Look out, because “Hell hath no fury like a serious golfer who tops the ball.”  I always loved playing golf with my dad, but the enjoyment factor went up 10-fold when we made this decision: We weren’t going to keep score anymore.  After we made that switch, we had just one criteria for defining a good shot: “Closer to the hole.”

Life in ministry is jam-packed with pars, birdies, and even eagles.  But its also filled with gaffs, mulligans, and do-overs, not to mention the occasional club wrapped around the nearest proverbial tree trunk.  In the midst of seeking out what it means to be a part of a “successful” ministry/career/endeavor/project, I’d suggest that you simply ask yourself, “Am I closer to the hole?”  Have you done something–anything–that has moved you closer to the goal?  And let me qualify “anything”.  It means “anything“.  That includes: thought, dream, plan, brainstorm, prayer, calls, connections, or anything else to inch the ball along.  Far too often I can allow the inevitable reality of an “off” day to skew my overall vision of the effectiveness and impact of the overall mission.

Another great idiom we adopted was that every hole was the first hole.  We’d have to forget both the sweet shots and the drink-sinkers of the last hole and start fresh with the shot in front of us.  Otherwise we’d rely too heavily on the past, and that would always negatively affect the present.

So, James Hines needs to lighten up.  Do you?

How do you define success in the field you’re in; be it a ministry field, a career field, or a mission field?  I’d love to hear from you in the comments section!

By the way, my Dad is not only a great golfer, but a phenomenal pastor, preacher, and writer.  You can check out his blog by using the link to the right called “Gleanings from the Word of God”.

I woke up this morning to a most horrific reality: my coffee maker was dead.  If only I had known last night that would be the last time I set the brew timer for 6:10 a.m., I’d have said something kind and meaningful…or would not have set it at all.  Luckily we had a couple of “Via” (Starbucks instant coffee) packets so that my wife and I could at least have one cup each. After that, we started twitching.

Before leaving for work, my wife asked if I’d mind stopping by Starbucks, getting her some coffee and bringing it to her at work.  Two reasons why I was more than happy to do it: 1) I was going anyway to get myself some and 2) I’d recently been given a gift card to Fivebucks and I was more than happy to spend someone else’s hard earned money on overpriced java.

When I arrived at Starbucks, I found the all-too-familiar sight of a long line of bleery-eyed caffeine addicts waiting their turn with their crack dealer barista.  As I made my way to the back of the line, I also spotted my good friend behind the counter, a barista herself.  Always bubbly, she gave me a loud, warm greeting in the presence of many witnesses.  It made me feel…well…really good.  I mean, knowing somebody behind the counter at Starbucks is like being friends with the rockstar on stage and having them point at you in the crowd while belting out a power ballad.

After shouting an equally exuberant greeting to my barista friend, I took my place at the end of the long line.  No joke; not 1/2 a second later I hear these words from my friend behind the counter: “Jerry, what are you having?” In the next half second I did two things simultaneously: I run my eyes up the line of 10 customers in front of me (most of which were now glaring at me in angered wonderment) and told her exactly what I had come in for.  Not 10 seconds after that I had my 2 cups of coffee in my hands and was striding for the door.

The uncomfortable part of my grand total of 34 seconds in the store was when I walked toward the front of the line just as quickly as I had walked to the end of it.  I swore I heard murmurings of strangers agreeing that they were disgusted by my existence. They were aghast at my good fortune, and sent me dagger eyes to go with my (oops, didn’t I mention) FREE coffee.  I’m pretty sure I finally understand what “gnashing of teeth” means.  Clearly it seemed that there was one word hanging in the air of that Starbucks this morning: unfair.

Have you ever noticed how unfair God’s grace is?  Jesus once told a parable of a vineyard owner who needed some workers for his vineyard.  He went to town in the morning, found some day labor, agreed on a price, and put them to work.  He went out at lunch, found more workers, agreed on a price, and put them to work.  Near the very end of the work day, he went again and found even more workers, agreed on a price and put them to work.  When it came time for the work to stop and the workers to get their pay the workers who worked all day were ticked off because the workers who came at the end of the day were getting paid the same amount as those who worked the entire day, bearing the heat of the day.  The owner’s words were simple and indicative of a God who makes no sense when it comes to fairness.

How about Zacchaeus, that “wee little man was he”?  This punk was a scammer.  A con artist.  A dude well-known for ripping people off.  And as Jesus comes to town He spots the little man in a tree and calls him down “for I’m going to your house today.”  What must the people have been thinking?  I’ll tell you what I’D have thought: “What the?!? Who in the world would want to have anything to do with that maggot Zacchaeus? I got dressed up for nothing!”

And how about the ultimate insult to those of us who think God gives two rips about your best efforts or your shiny shoes: the thief on the cross!  I mean this guy was right up there hanging next to Jesus himself and even started off mocking Jesus like everybody else was.  Then all of a sudden has a change of heart and starts yelling at the other criminal on the other side of Jesus’ cross to stop harassing Jesus, then has the audacity to say, “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42) Are you kidding me right now?!?  This guy shouldn’t have a snowball’s chance and yet here’s the Son of God nailed several feet above the earth, EXTENDING GRACE TO A CONVICTED CRIMINAL!  You’d be hard-pressed to find more grace-filled, unfair words than those Jesus spoke to that criminal that day: “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

God is a lot of things, but FAIR is not one of them!  And in my estimation, if you know of His grace you’d be wise to thank heaven for that fact, run to His arms open to anyone, and bury your face in His chest.

So, as I walked out that door of Starbucks this morning I was thankful to know of God’s grace and mindful that this grace is yours for the taking.

It doesn’t matter who you are.  You’ve got goals.  They’re yours.

You want a spouse.

You want that car.

You want to find a house and get out of that apartment.

You want an office, not a cubicle.

You want greener grass.

You want to lose 20 pounds.

You want to expand your business.

You want corporate to notice you.

You want to stop smoking.

You want well-behaved kids.  Or kids.  Or no kids.

You want to get better.  Stronger.  Beach-ready.

You want more people to read your blog.  And subscribe.  And comment.  And gush about your blog to friends and strangers.

And you’re currently somewhere on the continuum of either getting them accomplished or…well…not.

Goals are good things to have; I’d be foolish to suggest otherwise.  Goals keep us moving.  Or at least thinking about moving.  Goals give us something to aim for, to reach for, to work for, to dream for.  Overall, goals are good.

That is, until you become obsessed with them.  That’s when goals become gods.  That’s when what I do defines who I am.  That’s when my self-worth is found in my net-worth.  That’s when I am identified by who I am to those around me rather than who I am to the One who made me.  That’s when what I want to reach becomes all I can see.

I’m not poo-pooing ambition.  Far from it.  I’m driven to succeed, to produce, to achieve, to progress exponentially, and to be able to look back with satisfaction on what I did with my life.   But goals become gods when we hang our value on accomplishing them, and find that we feel we’re worth less when we haven’t accomplished them.

 

What goals do you have?  And what do you do to keep them in check?

While “organicization” is a made-up word, I’ve decided that it perfectly encapsulates what a healthy ministry looks like.  I’ve noticed that there are predominantly 2 approaches ministry leaders such as Yours Truly have when it comes to forward motion in their ministry context: There’s the “if you build it they will come” and the “Let go, and let God” approach.  In a nutshell, the first one is quite literally a “Let’s organize the hell out of this thing” and the second one is a “Let’s have zero structure and leave every detail up to whatever God’s Spirit wants to do; as humans, we’re hands-off and simply along for the ride”.

And just so I’m not unclear: neither of these by themselves are right.  Or biblical.  Or healthy.  And they certainly don’t emulate either Jesus’ example or the picture of the early Church.  (Consider Luke 10:1 and Acts 6:1-8)

If you’re in ministry, be it full-time, part-time, or even on a volunteer basis you’ve more than likely sensed an unspoken (or even written in black-and-white) pressure for forward motion.  This is especially true if you’re a paid ministry leader.  Essentially the human logic goes something like this: We need a job done, let’s hire a person to do the job, and let’s expect them to produce results.  There is not one thing wrong with this line of thinking; either in the corporate/secular workplace, or in the ministry workplace.  As far as I can tell, the Bible has no opposition to paid ministry positions.  The apostle Paul spoke about this on several occasions.  (1 Timothy 5:18)

However, what I’d like to dive into are the two mindsets I’ve found that dominate our ministry “philosophies” so to speak.  In the interest of being succinct, we’ll call these 2 approaches the “organized” approach and the “organic” approach.

The organized approach thrives on policy, procedures, handbooks, rules, protocol, charts, graphs, numbers, and a bunch of other measurable indicators.  The organized approach is generally cut and dried on “Apply A to B, and you get C.”  Not that leaders with this approach are strictly relying on simple math or that they don’t care about people, but most every situation is met with a structure, equation, or policy in order to see a solution or progression.  Taken to the extreme, the organized approach lacks a heart and puts policy over people.

The organic approach holds very loosely to any sense of organization.  The organic approach thrives on spontaneity, brainstorming, consensus, fluidity, turn-on-a-dime directional shifts, and just letting things unfold “naturally”.  The organic approach leans more toward a “if God wills”… people will come, souls will receive Jesus, discipleship will happen, Christians will grow to reach out to those around them; all with a sense of undefinable directionlessness.  Those leaders who employ this approach generally buck against goals, stats, or measurable indicators to actual growth.  Taken to the extreme, the organic approach lacks accountability and is perfectly okay with having no rails to run on.

Whichever way you happen to lean, there are pitfalls of perception found in both.  A leader in love with charts can be perceived as uncaring to the people he/she is leading.  A leader in love with the grassroots can be perceived as lacking confidence, direction, and can even be seen as incompetent.  A leader who loves organization takes the next hill whether anyone follows or not.  A leader who loves organic growth wants to feel good about the next hill and those who may or may not want to take that hill.

Being a leader of organicization (as you’ve probably guessed by now) means being mindful that both approaches have their worth and that both approaches need to be engaged.  I’ve found that people who don’t know their defined role can be as harmful to progress as people who are mavericks when it comes to the overall mission.  This is where “job descriptions” are helpful, without being so constraining that they choke the person’s creativity and offer very little room for enhancement.

Being a leader of organicization means that you have one ear to the chest of God, listening to His heartbeat, while having the other ear listening to the pulse of those you are charged to lead.  Few things are more discouraging to a people being led than the sensation that their leader is out of touch with where they are.

Being a leader of organicization means that when a shift if called for, you don’t first consult the policy handbook to see when the next vote is being taken so as to make a change to the organization’s bylaws.  You carefully and prayerfully consider the options and faithfully move in the new direction; even if you’re in mid-stream.  Being willing to make shifts based on the needs of those you’re leading shows that you are flexible and in tune not just with the direction, but with those being directed.

Being a leader of organicization puts you behind the desk and away from the desk proportionately.  My default position is in my office chair, I’ll admit it.  And whether you even have an office, a desk, or a chair is irrelevant.  Leaning too far toward over-organizing means we’re looking at a screen more than at the faces of those we’re leading.  As such, emails, texts, Facebook posts, tweets, and *gulp* even blogs can be a great vehicle for destructive passive-aggressive leadership behavior.

There’s more to say, but I’m going to stop here.

I’ve been known for long(ish) blog posts, so I’ll stop here and turn it over to you:

• If you’re a leader, in what other areas can you improve your “organicization”?  
• If you’re being led, what do you see in your leader that you feel needs to be addressed along the lines of organicization?

I laugh a lot.  Mostly because most of what I see is so funny.  But let me start off by saying that I realize what I’m writing about is kind of serious…kind of.

If you hadn’t noticed, the gay marriage issue is one that is currently boiling over everywhere you look.  And it would seem that the battle lines are drawn.  Here’s the apparent scene: on one side are gays and those who support gay marriage, and on the other side are the wretched evangelicals.  Is this your personal view?  I’d implore you to rethink it if it is.

The word “evangelical” is becoming synonymous with “hatemonger”, “anti-gay”, and “hopelessly out of touch and therefore worthless”.  What’s amazingly tragic is that none of those things should ever be or should have ever been used to describe an evangelical person.  Quite the contrary, actually.

The word “evangelical” comes from the Greek “euangelion” from which we get our word “gospel”.  It literally means “one who brings a joyous message of victory; one who brings good news”.  It has at its heart the word “angel” which means “messenger”.  The verb tense “euangelizo” commonly referred to a messenger who would precede the king’s arrival into the city, telling of the king’s victory in battle.  “Evangelical” has always been linked with “good news”.

Today? Not so much.

Ask the average person on the street what they think about “evangelicals” and they’re likely to have little to no use for them.  To our society, the evangelical movement has proven itself not just archaic, but acidic.  We’re not just making noise, we’re making enemies.  We’re no longer idyllic, but idiotic.  What to do with us pesky evangelicals?  Shut them up and then shut them down.  And “good riddance to bad rubbish”, as they say.

But why?  Why are evangelicals considered more and more  radioactive when the heart of the Gospel message we carry is that God has heard, that Jesus has come, and that we are reunited with the King?  Why does American society have a growing disdain for this good news and the people who carry it?  In quick succession, I’d like to share a few of my thoughts and then hear yours.

First, too many Christians have not communicated the gospel without spin.  If they had, we’d see even more people coming to saving faith in Jesus Christ (even more than the not-too-shabby estimated 80,000 daily who currently do).  In America, we’ve taught a shallow gospel, pinned to a dead routine, and wrapped in consumeristic “comfort above all” wishy-washiness.  We’ve taught about a Jesus so full of love that He died willingly on a cross in our place in order to be reconciled to us eternally starting right now and in exchange have asked that on Sundays, you should be nice and come to a church building.  Unless there’s a game on.  Or its race weekend.  Or the kids have ball practice.  In that case…well…whatever.

Secondly, there isn’t good news without bad news first, and its with that point most people struggle.  The good news is that Jesus has come, but the bad news is that He came for you because you were lost in your sin.  (Want to end a conversation quickly? Throw in the word “sin”.)  The good news is that forgiveness is totally free, but the bad news is that’s because there’s no way you could have ever gotten it for yourself. You’re way too sinful, and rendered utterly helpless and hopeless.  The good news is that “all who call upon the name of the Lord will be saved.”, but the bad news is that you can only have one Lord, so if He’s it then you’re not.  The good news is that the grace of God sets you free in every way a human being can be set free; from condemnation, from the expectations of others, from the power of sin, from your past, present, and future mistakes, from the power of death, and from an eternity separated from Him (to name a few), but the bad news is that we think our version of freedom (doing whatever we want) is just…well…better than God’s version.  With our version of freedom, we get to dismiss what’s moral and prop up what we think makes us happy at the moment.  We get to live in a seemingly wonderful world where no one is wrong except the people who say something can be wrong.  With our version, we get to call ourselves enlightened while ignoring the idea of darkness.  Yep, our version is appealing all right…but will ultimately bring about the demise of our society; the one we think so highly of right now.

Finally (for now), I’ll throw in a good ‘ol “Catch 22”.  Its the argument that “Christians are all hypocrites.”  However, look closely and you’ll see that indelibly connected to the human experience is hypocrisy.  Its just that its especially nauseating when an evangelical Christian purports to “love God” and yet isn’t perfect all the time.  And voila! Its super easy to use my hypocrisy as an excuse to ignore me and my message.  Unfortunately, it seems that we have somehow linked the expectation of perpetual personal perfection with following Jesus.  I can’t tell you how many people don’t attend church (for example) because they “don’t have their act together.”  Somehow evangelicals have communicated to the world around us “Get yourself together, then Jesus will take a look at you.”  Geez, I wouldn’t want to be a part of a church like that.  I’d feel weird and out of place!  But therein lies the very heart of the gospel message.  You’re NOT perfect.  Neither am I.  That’s why Jesus came in the first place.  But still we as evangelicals are somehow giving off the vibe that we’ve got something figured out.  That we’ve got some corner of the market on God that isn’t accessible to others.  Hogwash.

The God I love and serve is the God who saved me when I didn’t have one shred of hope to save myself (and I still don’t).  The God I love and serve is a God of compassion, grace, and mercy AND a God of righteousness and justice.  The God I love and serve is a God of “whosoever”; the gates are flung wide open to ANYONE (straight, gay, white, black, male, female, republican, democrat, tall, short, fat, thin, you get the idea) who would take Him at His word and receive His forgiveness.  For the love of the God I love and serve, I have crushed any pedestal I might be tempted to put myself on.  I’m painfully aware of my sinfulness and gloriously aware of His willingness to forgive it all and to adopt me into an eternal friendship with Him, one in which as His son I am only who He says I am.   And none of this is because there is anything about me that is appealing.  None of this is because I’ve figured anything out.  None of this because of me, all of this because of Him.

Its your turn.  What are other reasons that many see “evangelical” as a dirty word?