Well, what a day its been.  Full, busy, and rich with God doing what God does.

It began with a powerful message from Rick Lawrence. The outcome of that message was the still voice of God reminding me that I am His child, not my own, and not anyone else’s. HIS.  And that I am loved as I am, where I am, what I am, and who I am.  I was also reminded that while there are times that I’m tempted to think that God is done with me, “God is NEVER done.”  If I’m willing, He’s working. 

Then I attended a seminar led by Fuller Institute’s Kara Powell.  The seminar was called “Sticky Faith” and the thrust of it was based out of research and study the Institute had done.  One unsurprising fact reported was that parents of teens still remain the #1 influencers in their kids lives.  What did surprise me was that “youth leaders” rank #4.  Good thing I’m a parent before I’m a youth leader.

This evening we heard a powerful message from Jon Acuff from www.jonacuff.com.  What an incredible message.  I really couldn’t have cared less if anyone else was in the room but me because as far as I was concerned, it was just for me.  Jon talked about the voices that we hear, and more importantly, the voices that we listen to and give room in our hearts and lives to have a say in who we are and what we do.  As leaders especially, we all struggle to one extent or another to four voices that speak to us.

The voice of criticism.  I can tell you exactly where I was standing and exactly what I was doing for any instance someone gave me a criticism.  Those moments sear themselves in my memory.  And unfairly too, because the words of affirmation, the countless letters, cards, and words spoken to me far outweigh the relatively few times someone has had a harsh word of criticism.  But I give far too much weight and power to the negative words people have spoken.

The voice of fame.  As Jon pointed out, “Celebrity is the biggest drug among Church leaders today.”  In subtle ways and sometimes in blatant ways, we secretly and quietly yearn for fame; to be known, to be renowned, to be recognized.  Jon reminded us that “The Alpha and Omega, the Creator of the universe knows your name, and cares deeply about your life. You ARE famous!”  Why would we strive for the approval and applause of people when we already have the approval and affection of the Creator of all those people we’re trying to impress?

The voice that says, “If anyone knew who you are–who you really are, they’d run in the other direction and you’d be finished.”  You want to know something?  I still find myself standing on the schoolyard playground while teams are being picked for kickball.  In my mind’s eye, I’m still that kid who watches classmate after classmate get chosen until no one is left unpicked but me and the kid with the lazy eye.  I’m not kidding.  More often than I talk about, I’m that kid, feeling that way about myself.

The voice of comparison.  This one is so common, but when we compare ourselves to others, we rarely do it fairly.  We typically compare ourselves to someone who is in a different place, with different gifts, with an entirely different situation than ours and we wonder why we’re not on the same level as they are.  I’ve said before that when I compare myself to others, I’m left with one of two outcomes: pride or pity.  Pride thinks I’m better than they are.  Pity thinks I’m not as good as they are. Neither of those come from God.

Then Jon turned a corner and asked if we had ever been through times when God didn’t seem to speak to us.  As Christians, we usually equate that to something gone wrong, or God being distant, or God for whatever reason withholding His voice as some type of punishment.  In Christian circles, we call these “dry” times in our spiritual lives.  I’ve been there.  But Jon pointed out something that quite honestly I’d never directly thought about.  It’s a reality in what is probably my favorite story in all of Scripture, so you know I’ve read it, studied it, dissected it, taught it, and preached on it.  How this fact missed my attention is confounding to say the least.  The story is that of “the prodigal son”.  Maybe you know the story.  Read the story whether you’ve read it before or not, and notice something: the father (representing God) is never recorded as saying even one thing to the son.  Yet this story, perhaps more than any other in the Bible, exemplifies the love of God for all of His creation.  It displays His steadfast passionate desire for a full restoration and reunion with His beloved children.  Has God seemed silent to you lately? No matter what you don’t think you hear, know beyond any doubt that God the Father is embracing you, honoring you, clothing you, hugging you, and partying over you for no other reason than His love for you.

I believe that for me, today was a day of simply being still so that I could hear the still voice of God.  I clearly heard the still Gospel: the Good News that God made me, God knows me, God loves me, God liberates me, and God defends me.

I heard Francis Chan speak tonight.

I quit.

Let me back up a little bit.  I’m at the Simply Youth Ministry Conference in Louisville, KY this weekend.  We arrived this afternoon after a long, but enjoyable ride in a not-too-shabby rented Ford Explorer.  Upon our arrival, we checked into our hotel, checked in at conference registration, grabbed some dinner and hunkered down for a great night of worship in God’s presence and hearing God’s voice through a guy named Francis Chan.

God blew me away through Francis and at one point I quite literally thought to myself, “Okay, I quit.”  Now, let me clarify what I mean by that.  First of all, Francis Chan lives a life of such faith that I’m not sure his feet touch the ground anymore.  He’d say (and I know its true) that he’s simply taking God’s Word literally; reading it, believing it, and living it literally.  What it says to do, he does.  He actually does.  He doesn’t preach dynamic sermons telling anybody to do anything.  He simply relies fully on the power of the Holy Spirit.  Imagine that.

Francis started off talking about his own youth pastor that invested in him as a teen.  It was his youth pastor that showed him how to simply believe God fully and fully do what God says to do, leaving the results up to….you guessed it: God.  A poignant statement Francis made early in the message was this: “I learned everything I needed to know for ministry from my youth pastor.”  That pricked a question in my heart as a youth pastor: What are the students I love and lead learning from me?  Because if its not what I hope it is, I quit.  More on that in a few minutes.

I was also reminded that my sole responsibility as a follower of Jesus is to show other people the life of a follower of Jesus.  That’s it.  That’s all.  There isn’t any more.  I’m not saving anybody, I’m not convincing anybody, I’m not filling any quotas, I’m not striving for ANYTHING but a love relationship with Jesus.  And in doing that I will show young people how to stand on their own two spiritual feet.  As I share passionately what I know as I grow in faith, those students I love will be impacted.  And if they’re not, well, its not up to me to be flashier, to be hipper, to be more relevant, to be more anything.  The question came and created a bit of an indictment for me personally when Francis asked, “What if you were a Spirit-filled person focused on discipling?”  Do you know me?  Then you know (hopefully) that I’m pretty passionate about discipleship.  But can I confess something to you?  Here’s what has happened: Its become more because “discipleship” is in my job title than because I closely follow Jesus.   And because of that, I’ve come to trust in my skills as a “Student Discipleship Pastor” than in my passion for Jesus Christ, my all in all.

But what does anything I do matter if God isn’t in it; guiding, empowering, loving, showing, building, and working?  Nothing, that’s what.

When I was a kid, there were some specific pieces of decor that I recall from our house.  For some reason, these items just stand out in my mind.  One of them was a wooden sconce type of wall hanging in our den that held these dark purple, rubber grapes.  There was a set of purple grapes and another set of green grapes.  I’m not sure what the point of these grapes were.  Clearly my Mom wasn’t fooling anyone.  No one walked into our den and said, “Oh, I didn’t know you had a vineyard. Do you squeeze your own juice? Do you make your own wine?”  No one said that.  Because when you looked closely, you’d see that the grapes were made of rubber.

Now, I’m not trying to be hard on myself as a minister of the Gospel, but I think it warrants asking: Are my grapes rubber?  Don’t laugh.  I mean is the fruit of the ministry I’m leading really authentic, really juicy, really real fruit?  I know that in some ways “only time will tell”, but if its not, I certainly don’t want it to be because I am more in love with ministry than I am with Jesus.

And there it is.  I admit to you that I’m sometimes guilty of being more in love with ministry than I am with Jesus.  But nobody needs an encounter with me.  People need an encounter with God.  With God’s Son, Jesus.  With God’s Spirit speaking directly to their hearts, wooing them into love with Him.  But sometimes the stuff I get preoccupied with stands between me and Jesus.  Yikes.

We can lose our faith, as pastors.  We can lose our focus on Jesus and put it on people.  And if you think there’s nothing wrong with that, you need to either read it again because you misread it, or you need to step away, get alone with Jesus, and realign your life into a passionate love affair with Him.  That’s my heart’s desire this weekend.  Because in the end, I’m defined not by the ministry I perform, but by the Jesus that I love.

I wrote recently about a trail biking outing I had last weekend.  If you haven’t read that one yet, you can go to it by scrolling down or by clicking here.  Just promise me you’ll be right back to read this one.

I’m fresh off the trail of yet another adventure with some good friends who have sucked me into enjoying trail biking.  After surviving last week’s helmetless ride, I was pleased to find out that today my friend “Todd” did in fact have an extra helmet for me.

In this small gaggle of 2-wheeled friends, there seems to be a few different categories we can be broken down into: those who have clickety-clack shoes (the kind that attach their feet to the pedals), there are those who have nifty “Camelbak” backpacks (the kind that have the hose that comes up to your lips), there are those with cushy padded seats, there are those that have a GPS attached to their handlebars, there are those with really, really nice bikes (the kind from the specialty bike shop), …and then there’s me.

This past week, emails were passed back and forth amongst all of us as to what the ride plan was for this morning’s ride.  Various people chimed in on if/when they’d be available and for how long they’d like to ride.  It was determined that there would be “short riders” and “long riders”.  Needless to say, I’m a “short rider” and proud of it.  And I was under the impression that there would be one or two other short riders with whom I could share solidarity and camaraderie.  When I arrived, I quickly found out that I was, in fact, the only short rider.

This is where the plot thickens.

Undaunted by my position of sole short rider, we all hit the trail with the understanding that at some point (at which “Todd” would inform me), I would detach from the group and head back while the other riders kept on going for their “long ride”.  So, at the appointed time and at a fork in the trail, “Todd” gave me instructions as to how to get back from where we came.  I assured them that I’d be fine and to enjoy the rest of their ride, and we parted ways.

Remember when I told them that “I’d be fine”?  Turns out, I wasn’t.

I thought I was following “Todd’s” instructions to the letter (and part of me will go to the grave believing I was), but instead of ending up where I wanted to be, I ended up on the muddy banks of a pond with no discernible trail.  Alone.  I whistled “Singing In The Rain” as loudly as I could so as not to be shot by local hunters.

I decided that swimming across the pond with my bike on my back wasn’t the best choice, so I walked myself back up the rocky hill I had just descended at break-neck speed.  I found a park worker blowing some leaves around and asked for a trail map.  He didn’t have one, but told me where I could find one.  A while later, I found myself with my very own trail map and was not at all shocked to see where I was on the map in comparison to where I wanted to be.

After several more wrong turns and u-turns (yes, I know I had a map but that often makes no difference when you’re me), I finally found the path I originally wanted and successfully made my way to the parking lot where my trusty minivan awaited me.  As I pulled up to my van, and hoisted my bike up onto the bike rack, I heard a familiar voice, “Jerry?”  It was the guru of our group.  We’ll call him “Martin”.  He, along with the rest of the “long riders” had just returned from their long ride, not 60 seconds after I returned from my “short ride”.  As it turned out, I too took a “long ride”.  The only difference was that I did it alone.

Going it alone can be peaceful.  I really did enjoy the quiet of the woods.  Going it alone can be relaxing.  I really did enjoy not feeling the pressure of having to “keep up” with a larger group.  Going it alone can be lots of things that might qualify as desirable.  However, I was reminded today that “going it alone” isn’t at all what God created us for.

Many people in our society bristle when they hear the word “religion”.  There’s an online video that has recently gone viral in its popularity that bears that out.  And I don’t think it’s so much the “religion” per se, but rather the “organized religion” aspect of it all.  Which leads so many to refer to themselves as “spiritual, but not religious”.  I’ve spoken with more people than I can remember that seem to think that a “its just me and God, so leave us alone” mentality can fit nicely into God’s plan for His people, laid out in Scripture.  I’ve spoken with people that say of themselves, “Oh, I’m a Christian, I’m just not a ‘church‘ kind of Christian” which to me is just like saying, “Oh, I’m happily married and I love my spouse, I just don’t like to ever be around them or have anything to do with them.”

Jesus told us that He’s the “head of the Church” (Eph. 5:23) and His followers are “the body” (Col. 1:18).  But there seem to be “Christians” that think they can cut off the Head from the Body and still make it work.  I’ve seen plenty of amputees; people who have lost fingers, a hand, an arm, an ear, or a leg.  I saw a guy once with no arms and no legs and he seemed to somehow be doing just fine and dandy.  But I have yet to see someone lose their head and still make things work.  There’s no way to lose your head and simply get a prosthetic, go through physical rehab and make it work.  But in a spiritual sense, lots of people are trying.

Just like me at the fork in the trail today, as I assured the others and myself, “I’ll see ya on the flippity-flip!”  Sure, I had my helmet, sure I had my trusty Schwinn from Walmart, sure I had my water bottle (my only after-market addition), and sure I had Jesus.  But what I didn’t have was the fellowship that–in all likelihood–would have saved me from countless wrong turns, lost time, lost energy, and who knows what else.

Just as important as your connection to Jesus as the Head is, so is your connection to Jesus’ Body, the Church.  Don’t make excuses, don’t think you’re stronger alone, don’t think “I’ll be just fine.”  When Jesus called you to Himself, He called you into community with His body.

Now let’s ride.

“Depart from Me….I never knew you.” –Matthew 7:23

Have you ever felt out of place?  I remember a few times in life when I was in a place where I felt entirely out of my element.  Maybe I was underdressed, uninformed, or in some other way not in the right place at the right time.  While I made the best of the awkward situation, I most definitely was feeling like that old Sesame Street song I remember from childhood: “One of these things does not belong here…”

At the end of time, when Jesus wraps up all of history and begins His reign, the Bible tells us that there will be people that He won’t know.  When it’s all said and done, Scripture leads us to believe that not only IS there a hell, but hell will actually be more densely populated than heaven.  We’re told that comparatively speaking, only a few get in to heaven.  (Matthew 7:13-14)

And while this might be a point of contention for Christians and non-Christians alike because of the seeming harshness of Jesus’ words in that final day, it is no less part of the gospel message that must be shared.  It’s the “bad news” that leads us to the “good news”.  The gospel is offensive before it is redemptive.  It is the slap in the face before the embrace of grace.  In order to receive the good news of Jesus Christ, we must first face our own sinful depravity.  We must confess our need of a healer, of a Messiah, of a Savior.  It is those willing to make this confession that Jesus came for.

(This flies in the face of most people’s view of how entry into heaven is gained.  Most people are relying on their good works outweighing their bad works.  Sounds fair, right?  Too bad God isn’t as interested in fairness as He is in repentance and obedience.)

Now, at the risk of sounding self-contradictory, I want to also state that I believe that Jesus died for all people.  (1 John 2:2)  I absolutely believe in the “whosoever will may come” aspect of Jesus invitation to relationship with Him.  (Luke 14:16-24)  A wonderful hymn of the faith puts it beautifully, “The vilest offender who truly believes, that moment from Jesus a pardon receives!”

Sadly, it is this exclusivity of the Gospel message that so many can’t choke down.  For a wide variety of reasons, its difficult to think of God as being that narrow, that cruel, that mean, that unfair, that prejudiced–that He would only welcome those who welcome Him, and to the rest of humanity give an icy cold, “I never knew you.”

There’s a 3-year-old inside every one of us that screams, “But that’s not fair!!!”

But do you see that the exclusivity of Jesus is the great equalizer?  Jesus completely takes the effort out of our hands and places it on Himself.  All that was needed to secure your salvation was accomplished on the cross.  Throw out the scales. Forget the past. There’s no such thing as worthiness when it comes to us and an eternity with God!  “There are none that are righteous, not even one!”  (Romans 3:10)  So, in grace–beyond all notions of us trying to reach Him, beyond all thoughts of us being good enough, beyond all laborious and futile expressions of us closing the gap between our sickness and His holiness–God levels the field and says, “Anyone of you is eligible.” when the Scriptures declare, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved!” (Romans 10:13)

So, its not that Jesus is exclusive insomuch as He only takes some and not others based on effort or goodness; it is that He is exclusive in that He only receives those who willing to make their confession of lostness apart from Him.

The other day my oldest daughter asked me if I’d written a new blog post yet. In order to be truthful, I had to answer “No. I haven’t.” I had told her the day before that I had planned on writing a new blog post and I’m pretty sure she has become one of my most faithful readers. And I love that.

So, I’m going to dedicate this particular entry to her. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to share some advice; just a few things (definitely not all) I sincerely hope she has learned/is learning/will learn from watching my life and hearing my stories.

Be in love with Jesus. Your love relationship with Him will shape, guide, and enrich every other relationship you will ever have. Everyday, remember that its Jesus who took our place in death so that we can have life to the fullest possible measure; life now, life later, and life eternally. Life that overflows with joy, peace, hope, grace, laughter, and rock-solid faith that no matter what comes your way, Jesus holds it all together.

Be crazy about Jesus before falling in love with any other guy. Never let a guy take Jesus’ place of first love in your life. My marriage works for lots of reasons. Among them are: your Mom’s patience with me, the grace of God, and the fact that both of us love Jesus most. Its no disrespect to my wife–quite the opposite actually.

Never let comfort dictate anything. So many people are driven by and bound to what’s comfortable. Embrace discomfort as a way of life. Be willing to set aside your own ideas of what’s safe and good to instead take up God’s idea of adventure and obedience. Most everybody plays it safe and as a result gets to the end of their life and looks back with regret for chances not taken. Don’t live like that.

Be the You God created. He only made one. Don’t look around at others and wish you were them. Don’t chase what other people say you should be. You’re You for a reason. God only made one. Be the You God made.

Do what the Bible says. Don’t make excuses. Read it, love it, live it. Plenty of people disagree with that (always have, always will). But it’s really that simple. I’m sure there’ll be lots more to add to this, but this is just what’s on my heart at the moment.

And never forget that I love you.

*I already know that I’m going to get a phone call from my Mom on this one.

I recently started mountain biking with a group of friends.  Each Saturday we trek deep through the woods of Pocahantas State Park–dodging trees, forging streams, making laborious climbs up rock and root covered hills.  All in the name of fun, togetherness, and exercise.

When I first began, a good friend and fellow rider (we’ll call him “Todd”) immediately noticed that I didn’t have a helmet.  Concerned for my safety, he would lend me an extra helmet he had.  Nice guy, that Todd.

But this past Saturday the group was a bit bigger than normal.  One person bigger than the number of helmets, in fact.  And guess which one?  Yep, there I was standing at one of the trail openings with my group of helmeted friends, ready to embark on a new (more technical) trail — helmetless.

I shrugged it off, playing the “tough guy” card.  (Anyone who knows me knows that’s a laughable card for me to play.)  I assured my fellow bikers, with the deepest voice I could muster: “I’ll be fine.  Don’t worry about me……..Let’s do this.”   And off we went.

The trail was actually my favorite trail I’ve biked so far.  It had plenty of tight turns, downhill grades, uphill challenges, and even a couple log jumps thrown in for good measure.  But make no mistake about it: there were a couple very specific moments on that trail yesterday that I was especially mindful that my head was unprotected; a sharp turn in the trail where water/mud had collected, which was right next to a large tree.  As I rode cautiously past, I fully realized and appreciated the very real potential of my head becoming one with the tree.  As I went safely by, I would quietly thank God that I was safe and even having a blast.

A common Christian prayer is “Lord, protect me from (fill in the blank).”  Before a long road trip, before going to work, before getting on a plane and in all kinds of places, God’s protection over our lives seems to be fairly important to us.  And just like me on that trail yesterday, we’re ever mindful of when it seems to be missing.  Thankfully those times are rare since we seem to take for granted that God will protect us.  Our thinking goes something like this:

God loves me.

Since God loves me, God wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to me.

God will show His love for me by not letting anything bad happen to me.

But what if God’s first desire for you isn’t to be protected?  What if God’s first desire for you is to be faithful?  Let me take you back to a time in Jesus’ earthly ministry when one of His disciples asked about that.  Look at John 21:21-22:

“When Peter saw him [referring to John], he asked, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.” 

When it comes to God’s desire for you, everything else is second place to faithfulness.  It would seem that Peter was asking a legitimate question in response to Jesus’ 3 charges to Peter: “Tend my lambs.”, “Shepherd my sheep.” and “Tend my sheep.” (NASB)  It reminds me of when I tell my youngest daughter that she needs to clean up her room and her first response starts off with the words “But what about…???” as she points to her older sister who is seated comfortably on the couch.

In our desire for equity, justice, and fairness we lose sight of the fact that Jesus calls YOU and Jesus calls ME.  While Jesus certainly calls US corporately, I don’t see any US in Scripture that will stand before God in judgement as an US.  YOU will stand before Him and I will stand before Him.

What then should be our first desire?  Is it coincidence that 11 of the Apostles were martyred and the twelfth was left for dead on an island by himself?  That doesn’t sound like God’s first priority for them was their protection.  But because they were faithful–faithful to share the Good News with someone, who in turn shared it with someone, who shared it with someone else, who shared it with me–I am sitting here forgiven of all I have done and ever will do, with the deepest desire of my heart to simply be faithful to the One who has protected me.

I love buffets.  The idea that I can pay one price and stay for the day is euphorically mind-boggling.  I was at a popular pizza buffet recently and said jokingly to the person across the table, “The pizza isn’t that great, but at least there’s a lot of it!”  My wife and I have made it our standing policy not to go to any restaurant that doesn’t give free refills on drinks.  (I’m looking at you, Cafe’ Catura!)  The portion sizes in most establishments are many times over the recommended size for the average human being.  My wife and I had our weekly lunch date at Chipotle yesterday and all around us were people struggling to unhinge their jaw in order to fit a burrito into their mouth.

In spite of all our downsizing in recent years, this American truth remains:  “More is more.”

When I was a little kid, I used to visit my Grandpop at his shoe store.  A special treat would be when he’d let me have a glass bottle Coke and sit in the stockroom on a tall stool at his workbench.  I remember a sign on the wall in that dimly lit stockroom that said, “Rule #1: The customer is always right.  Rule #2: If you think the customer is wrong, see rule #1.”  Yep, Grandpop prided himself on his customer service.  Not only did it make for a pleasant shopping experience for his patrons, but it also made for repeat customers; known as “retention”.

Here’s what I see: its awfully tempting for me as a pastor to look at those I love and serve as “customers”.  Its tempting to fall into the trap of asking questions like “How many are we running?” and “How many are we keeping?”  Let me be quick to say that I do believe those questions have their place in effective ministry, but all too often they can become THE indicator that we use to assess health more than anything else.

I recently got an email from a parent complaining about something in regards to the student ministry I help lead.  And I wouldn’t have minded it really at all if this was an involved family who was faithful to be in the flow of disciple-making, prayer, giving, and even activities of our local church.  They’re not.  In fact, they’ve been here once in the past six months.  And it was when I learned that statistic that my mind switched over to “customer care”.  I began to assess the situation in a completely unspiritual way.  I began to look at them as a dot on a spreadsheet rather than a precious, prized soul that Jesus died to redeem.  And that’s when I’m guilty of “customer care” rather than “soul care”.

As a Bible & youth ministry major in college, I was taught well how to get things done.  I was also taught how to make sure my own soul stays nourished so that I don’t “burn out”.  But as I recall, less emphasis was put on how to care for people as we all keep our eye on Kingdom work: loving the lost, feeding the hungry, attending to the sick, making disciples, equipping the saints, and things like that.  So what I’ve allowed to happen is that ministry often gets boiled down to “keep the customers happy.”

God, help me to drop that like the bad idea that it is.

A pastor’s desire to keep people engaged (a wonderful desire) can be so easily confused with and switched out for the desire to keep people (not-as-good a desire).  Let me pound this out, kind of shooting from the hip here.  If I as a pastor give more attention to keeping people than feeding people, than the emphasis becomes the dog-and-pony show of entertaining the crowd rather than the Biblically-mandated call to mobilize the troops to impact their world with their grace gun, locked and loaded.  Can what we do have a sense of fun, a sense of appeal, a sense of humor?  Absolutely!  And I’m a firm believer in the “whistle while you work” philosophy.  But when we focus more on the whistle than the work…well…maybe I shouldn’t be surprised when people complain because the ministry I help lead doesn’t make them happy.  Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised to get an email that basically tells me that the church I’m on staff at might not be a good church because the writer of the email was spiritually challenged instead of socially coddled.

I love ministry.  I love that God has called me to be a student ministry pastor.  I literally can’t imagine what else He would do with me if it weren’t this.  But I also love when God lets me clearly see the pitfalls of wasted effort and wrong paradigms.