Jason Johnson

(Again, sorry so long…)

As my daughter has grown and developed she has begun to reflect in her own personality some of the habits, speech, and attitudes of my wife and I. Based on physical appearance alone there is no doubt that she is in our fact our child. She’s got her dad’s bright blue eyes and her mom’s beautiful smile. Yet even if she looked nothing like either one of us there would still be an undeniable resemblance between her as our child and us as her parents. She not only is saying some of the things we say, but she is saying them how we say them. She’s learned our routine, what we do and how we do it, where we go and when we go there. She’s got her mom’s persistence and her dad’s determination. There is no question that she belongs to us. The more she grows and develops the more we see evidences of ourselves in her. The more she becomes the person she is the more we see the type of people we are. In many ways she is a reflection of us, not only physically but in character as well.

John beautifully articulates how we as the children of God will ultimately bear an undeniable resemblance to the One whom we belong to when he writes, “…we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” (1 John 3:2) John’s encouragement is this: We are works in progress, continually growing and developing and moving towards becoming more accurate reflections of our Heavenly Father. We’re learning what God does and how He does it; where God goes and when He goes there. We’re learning what God says and how He says it. We are continually growing and developing into people who manifest the evidences of God in our lives. We are a reflection of Him, in speech and in life and in conduct. Ultimately, one day, who we are will be so radically transformed that we will “be like him”, a beautifully untainted and unblemished reflection of the One to whom we belong. This future reality is the basis for our present hope. Our hope is not dependent upon how hard we try or how much effort we put forth. The basis of our hope is the work of Christ completed on our behalf. John speaks of that future day when who we are will be completely restored and made new. He speaks of the hope we have in knowing that all we are and know and experience today is purposeful and intended to lead us to something greater and more complete. My present circumstances, therefore, are always pointing me towards a future reality. And yet that future reality is at all times bearing upon my present the responsibility to in all ways manifest the evidences of the person of Christ in my life. John concludes this passage with these words: “Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure.” (3:3) In light of the hope of our future reality, John calls us to purity in our present living. To “see him as he is” requires a moral and ethical response on our part. It carries with it behavioral implications for today. And so the natural expression of our hope in the future is to live lives of purity in the present, just as he is pure. So today we seek to live as His children – emulating Him, modeling Him, and reflecting who He is through who we are – so that our lives may more and more bear an undeniable resemblance to the one whom we call Father.

The message of the gospel is that life can reign over death, that light can break through the darkness, and that peace can transcend the conflicts of our present struggles, right here, right now, in the gap. The message of the gospel is that even in our incompleteness we are completely loved. The message of the gospel is that we can live with a confident understanding that God has not only intended something greater but has made a way through Jesus for something greater. Jesus’ announcement of the gospel was an announcement of a new way to live and be human. It was the introduction of a new existence, a new world. In this new reality we are able to live lives which are always leading towards hope and never towards despair, always towards truth and never towards illusion, always towards life and never towards death, always towards light and never towards darkness, always towards peace and never towards uneasiness. The realities of the gap are inevitable, and the conflict is unavoidable, but our hope transcends the lesser reality and longs for the new reality that God is seeking to establish in this world. The message of the gospel is about the glorious redemption of human life. The good news is that ordinary, incomplete people like you and me can now live within the presence and the power of God. This means that in part our story is the story of transformation. It is the story of change. We will not always be as we are now. God is working in us towards something incomparably better. As John Ortberg says, “The possibility of transformation is the essence of hope.” There is peace in the gap because there is hope in the conflict. Our story is the story of transformation. It is the story of change. We will not always be as we are now. The message of the gospel is this: There is hope. Hope in what will be produces a peace in what now is. Peace is not the absence of our conflict, but rather the presence of hope in the midst of that conflict.

Ernest Hemingway won the Nobel and Pulitzer prizes in literature, the highest accomplishments to be achieved by anyone in his field of work. He was rich, famous, and free to live life in any way he pleased. On his journey towards success he said that if he reached the top and found it to be empty and meaningless then he would not want to go on with life. Eventually he did reach the top, he did find it to be lacking something of sustenance and value, and He did take his own life. Shortly before he died he penned some of his final thoughts: Life is just a dirty trick. A short trip from nothingness to nothingness. There is no remedy for anything in life. Man’s destiny in the universe is like a colony of ants living on the end of a burning log. This is the picture of a very disappointed man; a man who lived a long life void of hope and meaning. In his search for fulfillment he came up empty. In the end it was all nothingness to him.

So what does a life look like that has been branded with the indelible marks of hope and meaning and purpose and growth? How does one move from nothingness to substance in their spiritual journey? What does true life change look like and how does transformation happen? What do we expect followers of Christ to look like over time? Often we expect some of their external behaviors to change. But do we really expect them to get rid of anger and bitterness and jealousy and resentment? Or do we just hope they will stop cussing, smoking and seeing R rated movies, and start giving and serving more? Maybe true life transformation is more than just replacing wrong behaviors with right ones. It has to be more than simply changing what we do; it’s about changing who we are. The tendency for most of us is to try harder to not do the wrong things, and hope that as a result we will begin to do the right things. I’ve seen time and time again Christians work so hard to eliminate certain sinful behaviors or habits or tendencies only to exhaust themselves spiritually and emotionally when they realize they just can’t seem to shake them. Despite all their efforts, all their hard work, all the boundaries and security measures and accountability procedures they have placed around them, they somehow find their way back to that sin. It is very devastating for people to go to such great lengths to prevent sin only to find that their desire for sin far exceeds their ability to avoid it. But maybe it’s more about becoming the right sort of person then it is about doing the right sort of things. Maybe as we progressively move towards becoming that person than doing the right things will become more of a natural part of who we are; they won’t be so forced. The good things we do will simply be expressions of the type of person we are. As Dallas Willard has said, “It is the inner life of the soul we must aim to transform, and then behavior will naturally and easily follow.” Naturally and easily follow. Those words sound so simple, and yet so far out of reach. The idea of naturally and easily feels very different to me than what I am used to experiencing in my efforts to stop sinning. Naturally and easily sounds so nice compared to trying harder and harder and harder and harder. Isn’t it interesting to consider how difficult it seems to attain something which sounds so simple? Why is that? Maybe in all of our trying harder we are actually making it harder than it needs to be.

So many of us become very intent on managing the gap by trying harder to do the right things and not do the wrong things only to come up frustrated and tired when we find that we can only manage the gap that way for so long. At some point we will slip up and do the wrong thing, or maybe even not do the right thing when we know we should, and where does that leave us? Feeling guilty, ashamed, and frustrated that we’re not stronger or more disciplined than we feel we should be. Our solution? Try harder the next time, and if need be, even harder the next. Persistent? Yes. But is persistence enough? Probably not.

One morning I was up early enjoying some coffee and some quiet. It was that peaceful part of the day, where the rush of life has not yet begun. And then it happened. Tap, tap, tap on the kitchen window. Confused as to what was going on I slowly moved into the kitchen where I saw a bright red cardinal flying into the window. Apparently birds will often see their reflections in windows, and to protect themselves will fly towards what they believe to be another bird in order to scare it away. Of course the reflection does not budge and the bird eventually crashes head first into the window. At first it was a bit humorous, I must admit, but very quickly the constant tapping on the window became quite irritating. I knocked on the window hoping to free the bird from this devastating cycle it had fallen into. It flew away and I thought that was the end of it. I returned to my chair, my coffee, and my quiet.

Within minutes it was back. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. At this point I was getting quite annoyed. All I wanted to do was enjoy the morning and this bird was seriously interfering with my ability to do that. I had some bible reading to get done and some praying to do, and all this tapping was really starting to frustrate me. The irony was great. In my efforts to read about and spend time with a very caring and compassionate and patient and kind and loving God, I found myself becoming very irritated and annoyed and frustrated that my time was being interrupted by this stupid bird. And then it hit me. I had decided that morning, as I do most mornings, that spending time with God meant me sitting in my chair, in the quiet, with my cup of coffee and my bible. The process usually went something like this: Pray. Sip. Read and sip. Pray and sip. Sip some more. Read more. Take the last sip. Pray. Done. And that was it. Another successful morning with God. After all, that is how I was taught to do it (I might have added the coffee part myself), and that is how I have always done it. So it must “work”, right? Maybe not. If all those mornings of repeating this cycle over and over again with God had produced nothing more in me than an ability to get very easily irritated and frustrated, then how well was this time with God stuff really “working”? It clearly was not producing within me the desired, or even expected, results that I was looking for. Is it important to spend some solitary quiet time with God? Absolutely. Jesus did so on many occasions. Is it also important to spend time reading and studying and knowing His word? Of course it is. But on whose terms? Mine, or God’s? For so long I had been regulating and dictating my spiritual life according to my own schedule and my own understanding of what it means to be in relationship with God. I had manufactured it to the point where it had lost most of its meaning. It had for the most part become void of passion and purpose. The romance was gone, and the excitement of knowing that I as a follower of Christ was a part of the epic story of God had slowly faded into a menial and habitual series of lifeless encounters with Him over a cup of coffee.

God did in fact want to meet with me that morning, I was just not aware that He planned to do so through a rather unconventional method, at least unconventional according to my understanding. There was something about that bird that really got to me. It was relentless in its efforts to accomplish its task at hand, but all it was really doing was beating itself against the window. What it was doing was just not working. I admired its persistence, and yet was confused by its ignorance.

That’s when I realized what it was God wanted to communicate to me. In my efforts to “do” the Christian life I had become very persistent and yet had grown increasingly ignorant all at the same time. I had minimized what it meant to grow spiritually to a short list of disciplines that I should consistently engage myself in, and a long list of habits and tendencies and temptations that I should work very hard at avoiding. And in all of that I had missed out on what it really meant to live and grow and be transformed. I realized in that moment that it is possible to work very hard at avoiding what is wrong while being persistent in doing what is right and still miss out on all that is good and holy and pure and beautiful. The spiritual life is more about what happens after I put down my cup of coffee and get out of that chair every morning than it is about the short 15 or 30 or 45 minutes I spend sitting there. The spiritual life as a follower of Christ is holistic in nature, encompassing every part of my being, not just my bible study, prayer life and regular church attendance. It should not be defined by, but only enhanced by, my time in that chair. Loving my wife well, raising my kids wisely, spending my money obediently, and using my time diligently are just as much a part of my spiritual life as any and all of those activities, practices or disciplines that we label as spiritual or religious. Isn’t it interesting that when most Christians are asked, “How is your spiritual life going?”, their typical response has something to do with the frequency or infrequency of their personal bible reading and the amount of time they are or are not spending in prayer? Yes, those are crucial components that play a vital role in our spiritual growth and development. But those practices are intended to move us towards a life that is holistically engaged in bearing an undeniable resemblance to the One whom we belong. It is very possible for me to diligently study the Scriptures, consistently spend time in prayer, and faithfully attend weekly church services while at the same time harbor bitterness, greed, lust and discontentment in my heart. It is possible for me to do all those things which appear to be spiritual on the outside very well and yet love my wife, raise my kids, spend my money and use my time very very poorly.

All of us at some point have smashed head first into that window, stepped back a bit dazed, and tried again, but a little bit harder the next time, and even harder the next. Many of us are frustrated because the Christian life as we have been taught it is just not “working”. We’ve convinced ourselves that the more spiritually busy we are the more spiritually healthy we are; only to find that the spiritual treadmill we are running on is getting us nowhere. We’ve tried so hard, but we simply cannot keep up. Deep within our souls we feel exhausted. Our persistence can only take us so far. My encouragement to you is this: It doesn’t have to be this way. In fact, it’s not supposed to be this way…

(sorry so long…only posted first part…remaining parts to come later…hopefully it’s worth the time for you!)

A couple of years ago my wife and I moved into our new home. It was about 5 years old, but new to us. As with any house that someone else has lived in we knew we would want to make some changes. The carpet needed to go, the pale white walls needed some color, and the lawn could use a serious overhaul. We knew that before this house could really begin to feel like home to us there would need to be some work to get done. At first it was fun. While the work was demanding, the excitement of moving in to our new place made it all worth it. Our motivation was knowing that with every project we completed this house was moving one step closer to becoming our home. We began working immediately, even heading straight to the house after signing the mortgage papers with a couple of gallons of paint in the back seat of our car. We solved the pale white wall crisis in our daughter’s room in one afternoon. All it took was a few coats of a very happy yellow color. For four days straight we worked from the moment we woke up to late into the night. Each day seemed to get a bit longer and a bit less productive. It quickly got old. And the excitement of the new began to wear off, after only four days.

The work dragged on. We were living in the middle of it all, so it became very difficult at times to see much progress being made. Although I knew things were getting done, I found that my attention was always drawn to those things that had not yet been completed. The excitement was fading quickly and the projects were becoming overwhelming. I was exhausted and frustrated. And although the work was not yet finished, I just about was. I knew the day was coming when this house would begin to feel like home, but it just seemed so far away and so far out of reach to me. I was not sure if I had the energy or the patience or even the desire to continue working the way I had been. My only hope was knowing that one day this will all be over. Every project will be completed and everything will look and feel just the way we imagined it would.

That’s when the work began to slow, and even creep to a standstill on many occasions. Projects sat for days and weeks unfinished and neglected. We learned to live with half-painted walls and almost-finished floors. Not out of preference but out of indifference. We adapted to the mess and learned to live in the incompleteness of our surroundings. As much as we tried to settle in and feel at ease, we just could not. It was not right. This is not how it was supposed to be. We longed for that sense of peace that comes with being home, but it seemed so far out of reach now. There was just too much left undone. Perhaps we had set our hopes too high. Maybe we expected too much. Maybe that sense of rest and comfort and safety that home is supposed to offer was but a dream, a fantasy. Maybe we had gotten in way over our heads. We were just tired and ready for it to all be over. We had not quite given up, but we had given in to the exhaustion. The excitement and energy and eagerness that was with us in the beginning had somehow been lost in the process. We were tired and ready to move on and be finished. It just wasn’t coming together the way we expected it to.

But the reason we bought the house in the first place was because we saw its potential and we knew what it could become. We knew that underneath the old dirty carpet was a foundation that one day my daughter would take her first steps on. We saw the bland walls as a blank canvas upon which the memories of our life together learning and laughing and loving would be painted. We saw rooms that would be filled with photos and furniture and all of those little things which give a home its uniqueness and identity. We knew that one day this structure of a house would be our home, a place of refuge for our family, a place of ease for our spirits. We did not see what was at the time; we saw past what was to what could be, and we set in our minds that what could be is what should be. That was our ambition. That is what we were pressing ourselves towards. That is why we bought the house. That is why we worked so hard. But what we saw then seemed so far away now. The potential of what could be, and the conviction of what should be, seemed so far removed from what now was. Somewhere between the excitement of what could be and the reality of what now was frustration, disillusionment, exhaustion and disappointed made its home in our house and in our hearts. We were tired, and the hopes of our dream were quickly fading. We were just too tired.

There are in the bible descriptions and promises of what life can look like for people who follow Jesus. They are presented as things that are very possible for very ordinary people like you and me. This promised life is described as one filled with hope, with peace, with beauty and inexpressible joy. It is a life of love and grace and mercy and forgiveness. It is a life of contentment and humility and satisfaction. Scripture claims that our sinful nature, that which is utterly opposed to the movement of God in our lives, has been rendered powerless (Galatians 5:24) and that we are now free from the pervasiveness of sin (Romans 6:18); that we walk victoriously in a world full of defeat (2 Corinthians 2:14); that we are spiritually saturated with the goodness and freshness of God’s rich blessings (Ephesians 1:1); that our minds are no longer held captive by thoughts that lead to despair and depression (Ephesians 4:23); that we are able to be beacons of light in a world lost in the dark (Ephesians 5:8); that we can know a joy in God which transcends our circumstances (Philippians 4:4) and a peace in God which measures far beyond our abilities to comprehend (Philippians 4:7); and so on, and so on, and so on, and so on.

And yet I find in this life that many of us live lives that are so far removed from what the bible says is possible. Many still live under the oppression of their sin, live defeated lives in the darkness of despair and guilt, feel empty and powerless in their efforts towards something greater, and are consumed with anxiousness and discontentment deep within their souls. I find within my own life, and in the lives of many around me in the Christian community, this general lack of fulfillment and satisfaction. There seems to be a deep spiritual unrest in people. We are stressed out and burned out. We are frustrated and anxious. We are unsure and unhappy. We are, for the most part, not experiencing this life that Scripture seems to promise we can experience. We are stuck in the gap between the life that has been promised and the reality of our present situations. We are crippled by the conflict between what could be and what is.

Honestly, how many of us have mastered the art of humility? How many of us live with an inexpressible joy? How many of us never get anxious or frustrated and are at all times patient and kind? Few if any of us live within this reality. Why is that? What is it that causes us to miss out on the life that we have ultimately been created to live? At first we are overwhelmed by the beauty of the gospel and for a time are compelled to the things of God. We are excited by the newness and we set our ambitions for change very high. And some things about us do change. We get rid of old habits and begin developing new and healthier ones. We read the bible more and spend more time in prayer. We might be nicer to our neighbors and serve more at church, but over time this sense of progress and growth and change begins to slow, and like the many projects in our house, even creep to a standstill. Instead of this life of hope and beauty and inexpressible joy that we’ve been promised our lives begin to look like something very different. They look like this: I get upset very easily with my wife. I take the stress of work out on my kid. I worry about money. I get jealous over what other people have and feel resentful over what I do not have. I get frustrated in traffic or in line at the grocery store when things aren’t moving as quickly as I’d like them to. I use deception to get what I want. I judge people in my heart and condemn them with my words. My prayer life is weak and selfish. I get caught up in the game of accumulating more stuff and fool myself into thinking the more I can get the better I will feel about myself. I surround myself with noise so my mind is not given the opportunity to dwell on the guilt and regret and frustration and disappointment and bitterness and resentment I feel deep within my soul.

Somewhere in this process of living the Christian life the realities of life take a toll. The prospects and hopes and possibilities of following Christ that once were so captivating somehow get squashed under the weight of mortgage payments and car notes, sick kids and medical bills, troubled marriages and long work weeks. The excitement of the gospel becomes overshadowed by the looming frustrations of reality. Instead of being inspired by the promised life that Scripture reveals we are now discouraged by it. We feel guilty because the life that could be is not the life that is, and it is nobody’s fault but our own. We are filled with disappointment, discouragement, and disillusionment because we know, deep down inside, that our lives up to the present have been dangerously estranged from the true essence of what it really means to live. We’re tired; deep within our souls we’re tired.

For the most part, we are stuck in this gap between the life that is promised and the reality of life as we know it. On one side is the life of beauty and hope and peace and joy that is so captivating and so inviting. While on the other is the reality that much of our life is lived nowhere near that. In between the reality and the promise is this gap, and in this gap is a great conflict.

It’s been said that one of the greatest fears in life is death. They say that’s why we don’t talk about it and why we do everything we can to avoid it. But I have seen a lingering uneasiness in most people that seems to weigh more heavily upon their present situation than the inevitableness of their future death does. It seems most of us today are too busy in life to really consider the fact that one day we will ultimately die. It’s not until we are standing at the funeral of a loved one that we are profoundly reminded of our own mortality, of the fact that we are but a vapor, that we are dust destined one day to return to the ground. The reality of our future death acts as a mirror which reflects back upon us the condition of our present circumstances. In those moments we are forced to evaluate things we might not normally evaluate and consider things we might not otherwise spend time reflecting on. In those moments we are forced to evaluate the condition of our present circumstances in light of our future passing. The fear of death is more about life than it is about death. If someone is afraid of dying it is because they are afraid that they are not truly living. For me, the fear that my life may somehow never realize its full divine potential is far more upsetting than the fear of how I will die or even where I will go after I die. While I am confident that the death I die will bring about Heaven for my eternity, it is the life I live right here and now which is often filled with insecurities, uncertainties, and doubts. I’m finding that the fear which lingers in the hearts of most of us is the fear that this gap, this conflict between what could be and what is, will never go away. This is why people struggle with the aging process. Each passing year represents another missed opportunity, and moves us one step closer to the completion of a life that we fear may have been lived so incompletely.

What is the answer? How can we move beyond the gap? Is it to retreat? To run away? To avoid the issue? Is it to try harder? To put forth more effort? To close the gap by getting more involved in church, establish a more disciplined prayer and bible reading life, give more money, serve more or simply try to be nicer to people? Is it to settle for this lesser way of life? Is it to give up? To throw in the towel? What is the answer? How can we move beyond the gap?

The truth is this. Somewhere in that gap, in the disconnect between what could be and what is, grace abounds and makes itself known through an indescribable hope and a peace which reaches far beyond the understandings of our minds. The movement of God in our lives is a work in progress, playing itself out through the context of our present struggles. He is working towards our completion, always advancing and developing His work in us. We, like the half-painted walls and unfinished floors, are a work in progress, not yet done. Our completion is certain, but it is worked out in time. We are anticipating a final consummation where there will be no more conflict between what could be and what is. The gap will be no more. What should be will be. We will finally feel at home. That day is coming, and so there is hope for the weary and the tired and the disillusioned. There is hope for the broken and the burdened and the desperate. There is hope. Completion is coming. Martin Luther said it this way, “We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it; the process is not yet finished, but it is going on. This is not the end but it is the road; all does not yet gleam in glory but all is being purified.” There is a day coming when our hearts will be more radically changed and we will delight in God above all else. That sense of joy, of peace, and of rest is coming. One day. Completion is coming….

(to be continued)

I recently finished reading “The Supremacy of God in Preaching” by John Piper. One thing I appreciate about Piper is his absolute commitment to declaring the glory of God in all things. If you’ve ever read any of his stuff you find this common thread woven throughout. Towards the end of this book he speaks to the infinite worth of God’s glory and makes these following statements:

It is at the heart of our preaching: 2 Corinthians 4:6
“the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

It is the goal of every Christian act: 1 Corinthians 10:31
“Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”

It is the focus of all Christian hope: Romans 5:2
“We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.”

It will someday illuminate the earth and replace the sun and moon: Revelation 21:23
“The city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives its light.”

It is even now made known at all times: Psalm 19:1
“The heavens declare the glory of God.”

The goal of all that God does is to preserve and display His glory. – John Piper

The point of the book, then, is that our preaching should “preserve and display” His glory. I pray that mine would, and I pray that those preachers who have abandoned Scripture would be brought back to the Word and would proclaim it as the authoritative, sufficient declaration of the glory of God that it is. I also pray that the famine in our churches would be remedied by the Spirit’s awakening of the hearts of God’s people to hear and to know the Truth in its fullest. I ultimately pray that our pulpits and our churches would be absolutely overwhelmed by the infinite worth of the glory of God, that our lives would be wrecked by it and in the end our mission redeemed by it.

Among the many cliches we often use within the church world, the idea that you need to “love Jesus” is often spoken but seldom truly understood.

Any attempts to explain this in human terms will be futile at best as our understanding of what it means to BE IN love falls so short of what it actually means to BE love, as Jesus is. It therefore would be misguided of us to define love for Christ based on our own experience of love. We must look to what Jesus says is love, and learn how He defines what a love for Him looks like in us and through us.

Jesus says, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life shall lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake shall find it.“

Jesus simply says that if you want to be a part of Me then you will do what I did – you will submit your life to the will of the Father and the mission of the Cross. You will choose to lay aside your own life, with its right and privileges, in order to embrace the gospel and orient your life around it. Your life will then become an expression of the gospel uniquely applied in the specific context of life God has placed you.

John reiterates this when he writes, “We know love by this, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren.” In other words, embrace the mission of the Cross in your life, just as Christ did in His. This is how we know what Love is, and this then is how we are to love.

So how then is a love for Jesus realized in our own lives? It begins and ends with the Cross. It starts when I embrace the Jesus who bore the weight of my sin on His back and ends when I submit myself wholly to His mission in this world.

How are you living the gospel of Jesus out uniquely in the context of life He has placed you in? How are you embracing the mission of the Cross? This is what it means to love Jesus well.

Jesus never wanted to be a commodity being sold, but a Savior which was being sought.

On numerous occasions throughout the gospels we see Jesus healing, saving, casting out demons and performing miraculous feats both in the physical and spiritual world. The majority of the time Jesus tells those around Him, and even sternly commands them, to not tell anyone what they had just seen and heard and experienced. Despite His clear instructions, the Scriptures tell us that most of the people either directly or indirectly involved in the miracle run off and tell everyone they can.

One of the lingering questions interwoven throughout the reading of the gospels is this: Why does Jesus instruct people to keep quiet about who He is and what He is capable of?

Wouldn’t He, being the Savior of the world, want word of Him to spread as far and as wide as possible? Wouldn’t He want to take advantage of every opportunity for free publicity He could get?

It seems apparent that Jesus was not concerned with selling Himself to people or marketing Himself to the masses. You cannot help but notice how intentionally focused Jesus was on those who were most desperate to get to Him. He often ignored the crowds, sometimes even running away from them (note the whole walking on the water incident). But He always had time for the man or woman who fought through those crowds, cried out above the noise of those crowds, and risked facing public humiliation in the eyes of those crowds, simply to get to Him, be touched by Him, be healed and made whole by Him.

Jesus had multiple opportunities to put Himself on display. He could have sold Himself, but I believe He knew then that people would have been buying into the hype of the message, not the heart of it.

He says Himself that He came for the sick, the broken, the lost. I cannot help but be amazed by His humble servility towards them and His refusal to make His mission about anything other than that.

Doesn’t it make you proud to follow such a man?

So if the previous post is true, that the health of our church is determined by how well we love Jesus, then what does this end up looking like? How does this express itself into the leadership, structure, vision and mission of our churches? Does every church have to look the same, talk the same, act the same and function the same? Or can this remain true through a variety of different types of churches and uniquely express itself through multifaceted forms of ministry?

Here’s my answer to the question, “So, what does this look like?”:

It’s going to look different and play itself out through a variety of styles, a variety of mediums, and a variety of ministries. But it begins with one thing – We have to organize our lives around the person and work of Jesus Christ, and we have to organize our churches around the same. If we do not, then we will fail. We can create the illusion of success, but that can only be sustained for so long before it dies, and we die with it.

The nature of our church as a whole is born out of the collective sum of each individuals relationship with Christ. The church can only be what its people are. Back to the main point of this whole thing: The health of our churches is determined by how well we love Jesus – and this begins with the individual. When we become a community of people who love Jesus and organize our lives around Him and His mission, then it will effect everything about what we as a church are and do. It will determine how we organize ourselves, who we hire, what ministries we have, what facilities we have, what missions efforts we’re involved in, and so on and so on. When a church seeks to define its health by how well each individual person is loving Jesus then it completely changes the why and how of doing things. It becomes more intentional on organizing itself around the person and work of Christ, and seeks to organize itself, staff itself, obtain facilities and establish ministries that are an expression of their collective love for Him, not an attempt to promote itself or set itself up on a pedestal in the church community.

So, what does this look like? I think it means that we must submit ourselves to the authority of Scripture in our preaching and quit dancing around the Bible as if it were a menu we can order whatever we want from and discard the rest. I think it means we have to be taking care of the poor and the needy, not only around the world, but especially in our own backyards. We have to quit sending people to Africa and Mexico and think that we are doing God a favor while in the meantime neglecting the clear and imminent needs of our own neighbors. I think it means that we worship in a way that points people to Jesus – it’s not a show, it’s not a pre-game warm up for the pastor – it’s an opportunity to engage in the spirit of worship together as a community. I think it means that we hire people who love Christ first and foremost, even if they are not the most gifted or charismatic people we know. We look for the quality of their individual love for Jesus before we look at any of their qualifications for the job. I think it means that we gather in facilities which satisfy the space requirements we have but are not designed to be “attractors” to Jesus. We should not have to rely on our buildings to “attract” people to Jesus – that’s our job! And so on and so on and so on.

All that to say, we worship a multifaceted God and our love for Him expresses itself in multifaceted ways. Every church will not look the same, sound the same or act the same. But if their primary allegiance is to Christ, their primary motivation is born out of Christ, and their primary objective is to lift high the supremacy of Christ, their will be commonalities amongst us all that bridge the divide of denominational affiliation or musical style preferences. We will in the end be driven to quit doing church and actually start being the church, together, for the glory of His name and nothing else.

We are only as healthy as we are in love with Jesus.

We cease to be the church when we lose sight of this.

The spiritual health and maturity of a church is not determined by how well the pastor preaches, how well the worship leader leads or how well the programs are run. And certainly it would be presumptuous to say that the size of the church is an indicator of the spiritual health and vitality of the church – as if larger churches are inherently more healthy than smaller ones. True, healthy churches seek to preach well, lead well, and run programs well. It is also true that healthy churches tend to grow in number fairly rapidly and consistently. But in no way are those things in and of themselves the primary determinants of whether or not a church as a whole is healthy. How we do or do not preach, how we do or do not lead, how we do or do not program, and how we do or do not grow are expressions of our health (or lack of health), not causes of it.

The health of a church is not determined by how well we lead or program or preach or administrate, but by one thing and one thing only – how well we love Jesus.

In Revelation 2 Jesus is speaking through the prophet John to the church in Ephesus when He honors them for holding true to sound doctrine, raising the bar of holiness high in their church, and persevering through trials for the name of Christ. And yet while they are doing all of those things well, He admonishes them for one thing: “But I have this against you, that you have left your first love.” The text continues on by saying that if they as a church do not repent, He will remove His presence from their midst and they will cease to exist – their church will die.

They did many great things very well, but they had fallen out of love with Jesus. This means that as a church, you can appear to do everything right, but in the end be entirely wrong. This means that your leadership can be strong, your teaching and worship can be powerful and inspiring, your buildings can be massive and your ministries can be overflowing with people, but at the end of the day, if you have abandoned your love for Jesus then all that appears to be thriving and successful is nothing more than a fraud – a failure. No church is exempt from the potential of this fate. Every well-intentioned church must stop and evaluate at some point whether or not they are truly in love with Jesus. If what we do as a church is not born out of a love for Jesus then we will create the appearance of church but in no way will we actually be the church. Things might look good and spiritual, but if they are not produced out of a love for Christ then the motivation behind them is fatally flawed, and we will die.

Jesus says something very interesting in the gospel of John – that if His name be lifted high then He will draw all men into Himself. The truth is that we lift up highest that which we love the most. Typically, we lift up highest ourselves, or anything that brings us satisfaction, comfort, or pleasure, because generally speaking we love ourselves the most. But what would our churches look like if we began to lift up the name of Jesus highest in all that we do? What if we abandoned lifting up the names of our churches, the personality or charisma of our pastors, the success of our ministries or the attractiveness of our facilities? What if we quit relying on our own ability, innovation or creativity to grow our churches and started trusting that God knows how to build His church better than we do? Consider this: Healthy church growth is the result of lifting high the name of Jesus and watching Him draw people into Himself.

This demands some answers to some hard questions: What do I love the most? What does our church love the most? What is the motivation behind what we do? Where is Jesus in all of this?

“I am thinking of taking the field myself.”

Abraham Lincoln made this remark to a friend while discussing the importance of the Union Army advancing upon, and ultimately finding victory in, a particular battle at Norfolk, Virginia during the Civil War. The writer of this biography, Lincoln on Leadership, notes the leadership principle that Lincoln consistently acted upon, and encourages modern leaders to  do the same: “Set the tone and give your people a message. If your followers see you leading the fight…there will be no mistaking what you want them to do.”

I admire Lincoln’s integrity as a leader. He was willing to do that which he called others to do. As a leader, it is imperative that we are not asking our people to be something that we ourselves are not. The message you send is loud and clear. Inconsistency, hypocrisy, and a serious lack of integrity.

As leaders, those who have been entrusted to our care need to see us leading the fight. Our lives need to be marked by a humility which communicates to our people a genuineness in our pursuit of character and truth. People are willing to follow passion, no matter the cause, and no matter the cost.

As pastors, a genuine, deep-seeded, fully abandoned passion for Christ is the greatest of all motivators to the flock you have been charged to shepherd.  This to me is the truest form of integrity in the pulpit and out of it.

Lead the fight. Set the tone. Don’t lie to your people. Live with integrity.

There is a community near The Woodlands (where I live) called Tamina. It is for the most part poverty-stricken. Of course we have come to know that poverty is everywhere, and you cannot be within earshot of any major city (in this instance, Houston) without coming across areas of town that are seriously under resourced and neglected. Of course this bothers me on many levels – the fact that men and women and children are denied basic rights as human beings (the right to eat, the right to sleep in a bed, the right to drink clean water, etc.) simply because of their economic status. But what especially bothers me about Tamina is that it is within five minutes of The Woodlands, one of the wealthiest communities in the entire country. Tamina rests within the shadow of The Woodlands Mall and Market Square – havens of consumerism, gluttony, and over-indulgence. Tamina slowly suffers while The Woodlands for the most part pretends like it is not even there.

I believe that the existence of Tamina is a shame on the church community of The Woodlands. We are quick to send missionaries overseas and do random acts of kindness around the holidays, but are we neglecting the immediate and imminent needs of our neighbors in Tamina? In a town where there is a church on every other street corner and more financial resources available to those churches than anyone could ever possibly imagine, why in the world does Tamina still exist?

In my opinion, it should not. And if the church community actually began being the church in this community we would see cultural reformation in Tamina, and transformation right here in The Woodlands.

Would love to hear your thoughts: What role does the church play in a situation like this? Is Tamina our responsibility?

Although never referred to in Scripture in this way, the church is indeed the hope of the world. It is God’s unique design for bringing hope and healing; it is His creative method by which He has chosen to introduce Himself into this world. We, the people, are the church, the embodiment of the person of Jesus, expressed supernaturally through the power of His Spirit. The church is the hope of the world because it bears upon its back the markings of Christ in a God-ordained way that no government agency, no formidable charity, and no well-intentioned non-profit organization does, can, or ever will. Jesus is the head of the church and the church alone – we are His body, the people…the hope of the world.

When is the last time you saw “the hope of the world” represented in a positive light through our mainstream media, be it news programs, sitcoms, or movies? Is it me, or have we for the most part lost our influence? Is it me, or do you feel like we as the church are struggling to hold onto the last shreds of respect we have in our culture?

I’m reading a book right now which in my opinion delivers one of the best statements on how the church possesses an inherit power to literally be the hope of the world it is uniquely called to be. I wanted to share that statement…

“…the church (the ecclesia), when true to its real calling…is by far and away the most potent force for transformational change the world has ever seen.” 

When true to its real calling – What is its real calling? What does that look like?

Would love to hear your thoughts.