As many of you are aware, I deal with many people who are doubting their faith. To be more specific, these are Christians who are going through some sort of faith crisis where they no longer believe with the simplicity that characterized their belief before. This is becoming increasingly common in a world where sheltered or isolated beliefs are not only impractical, but a thing of the past (and this is good!).

However, most of us really don’t know how to deal with this. We don’t know how to deal with it when it comes to our own doubts, much less other peoples’!

At the risk of presenting a bit of a caricature, let me give some tongue-in-cheek ways in which various theological systems deal with Christians who are going through such a crisis of faith:

Baptists: They are still saved, no matter where their doubts take them. They just need renewed assurance.

Calvinists: They were never saved to begin with. They need to have the Gospel presented to them.

Charismatics: They are demon-possessed. They need to have an exorcism.

Arminians: They are in the process of losing their salvation. They need to stop sinning or be argued back into the faith.

I don’t know if I agree or (necessarily) disagree with any of these options. What I would disagree with is that we can address these situations with a neat, one-size-fits-all response to individuals in crisis.

I don’t claim to be an expert in this area, but I thought I would try to give some points of advice not to those who are in the middle of this faith crisis, but to those who are seeking to help those whom they love through this crisis in a positive way.

1. Have mercy on them.

Jude 22 is a verse that is quite neglected. It says for us to “have mercy on some who are doubting.” If we don’t approach people with genuine mercy and love, we cannot expect to be Christ for them in what might very well be the biggest struggle they have ever faced.

One of the things I have been exposed to since “entering” the ministry to those who are doubting is how traumatic this time of life truly is for them. If you have never been through it, it will be extremely difficult for you to understand. In fact, the default position for many of us is to judge and condemn those who are doubting. When someone’s doubts are not processed properly, and all they find is condemnation and judgement from the community of faith, this intensifies and prolongs the problem. You would not believe how many Christians who are going through this crisis are seriously considering suicide. From their perspective, their entire worldview is collapsing beneath them.

I won’t get too much into the story, but I have been through this crisis at the deepest level. It nearly killed me. Simply to have someone there having mercy on me, being there for me, not waiting for the other shoe to drop, but in full support and love was so important. Those in doubt need to know that you are not ever going to leave or forsake them. That is being Christ to them (Heb. 13:5). Be as understanding as you can even if you have not been through this.

2. Realize that these are often the birth pangs of deepened faith

I almost put “these are the birth pangs of true faith,” but that is saying too much. You see, when we are children, we receive our faith from our parents in a mediated way. This does not mean that this faith is not true, but for the most part, it is untested. It is the trials, temptations, and suffering of life that test our faith (Job; Rom. 5:3-4; Luke 8:5-15; Jam. 1:3).

For those of us with children who are going through this, we cannot panic . . . please don’t panic. Yes, it is incredibly difficult to watch your child (or friends or loved ones) go through this. Just like when your child is hurt, you want so much to endure their pain in their stead. When our children are going through a faith crisis, we want God to shift the burden to our shoulders. I will talk about how we can bear this burden with them, but we cannot (and should not want to) bear this burden for them. Our faith must be tested if it is to grow. Periodic faith struggles are the norm of the Christian life. When I am at my best, I worry most for those who have never been through any faith crisis. To me, this normally means they don’t take their faith too seriously. But for those who do take their faith seriously, the crisis is sure to come. And to those whom God is going to use in a particular way, the crisis will be more particular.

Whether it is an intellectual, emotional, or spiritual difficulty, we must realize that God uses these trials to deepen faith. In this, while we don’t like to see loved ones in pain, we can rejoice in what God may be doing through this time.

3. Be ready, but don’t manufacture answers

The last thing those in the throes of crisis need are manufactured, cliché answers. In fact, these will almost always make the crisis worse. People normally go through these trials because they are thinking deeply about their faith. They are critically examining it, possibly for the first time. Sound-bite answers from us only reinforce a naive picture of faith. People in crisis have a new ability to tell if you are being fake, even when you don’t know it yourself.

Be ready. Be honest about your faith. Enter into the crisis with them and find answers together.

I remember when my mother had her ruptured brain aneurysm at age 56. This came just on the heels of my sister’s death. We were all at the hospital groping for hope and wondering why God was attacking us (as we saw it) in such a way. My little sister was in the deepest crisis of us all. When my cousin came in to offer spiritual support, he said this: “While the pain you are going through is bad, you have to remember that God lost his own son.” My sister would have none of it. She responded without hesitation, “Yeah, but at least he got his son back after three days.” Now, my cousin could have stuck to his guns and continued to promote the validity of his wisdom, but he did not. He joined with my sister and said, “By God, I never thought of that.” He then remained silent. That meant a lot. It meant that he was not just trying to offer advice that he had never thought through himself, but he was willing to shoulder the burden that unexpected difficulties bring to our faith.

4. Help them to focus on the things that make or break their faith

Often, during this faith crisis, it is not just a room getting rearranged or a bathroom remodeled, it is as if the entire structure is falling down. It could be something as small as someone at school ridiculing them for believing that a donkey talked, a discovered discrepancy in what Christ said in Matthew compared to Mark, or a science class presentation on the theory of evolution (none of which affect any issues foundational to our faith). However, for those who have never been prepared for these challenges, they can not discriminate between essentials and non-essentials. For many, everything is an essential. Their theology is a house of cards. Once one card falls, no matter how small, the entire house comes tumbling down.

I remember when I had an existential crisis in the mid-nineties. It was over tongues. I grew up as a hard cessationist, believing that the gift of tongues ceased in the first century (I am still a cessationist). The way I was taught was that if someone speaks in tongues today, they are demon-possessed. There was simply no question about it. I was as sure (emotionally) about this as I was anything. Why? Because that is what I was taught and no one ever told me there were other options, much less other legitimate options. When I read Jack Deere’s Surprised by the Power of the Spirit, I was thrown into a mini-crisis for two reasons (even though I was not close to becoming charismatic): 1) I could not work into my practical theology the idea that Jack Deere – who, though a tongue-speaking charismatic, believed just about everything else I did concerning Christ – could be demon-possessed; and 2) I wondered why I was misled (from my perspective) for so long into thinking that all tongue-speakers were demon-possessed. My thought was, if I trusted my former teachers for so much (and they seemed so certain), what other things were they wrong about? Christ’s resurrection? The Bible’s authority? The Baptist way? But the issue of tongues is certainly not an essential issue. Why should the entire house fall when this card is taken away?

As people go through this crisis, we can do much to lessen the its effects if we can help those going through it gain some perspective. Someone may be questioning the legitimacy of their belief in the rapture, whether or not the Apocrypha is part of the canon, if Hell is eternal, if God changes his mind, whether Christ can work through other religions, or whether the Bible is inerrant or not. These are all important issues, but not foundational issues. Where you land on these issues does not speak to the ultimate truthfulness of the Christian faith.

Whether the crisis of faith is brought about due to intellectual or emotional reasons, it will help to encourage people to look to core issues of the faith and then move out from there. I think the core issue of the Christian faith is the resurrection of Christ. All dominoes fall from there. It is also the easiest to rest our intellectual heads on. I have yet to meet someone who was going through a prolonged crisis of faith who was well established in the historicity of Christ’s resurrection.

5. Encourage them to live according to the faith they still have

Doubt is not unbelief. Doubt is the bridge that moves our current faith to perfect faith. That bridge will always be there until death (or until Christ comes). However, those who are going through a faith crisis don’t naturally see things this way. Once doubt comes in and infects their life on a conscious level, they interpret it as outright unbelief. They don’t know how else to process it. They think that they are on an inevitable road to complete unbelief. Unfortunately, because they think this way and because many Christians treat them as if they had the plague, they begin to immediately live as unbelievers. If sin were not the instigating problem before, it definitely becomes the chronic problem now. It is important for those who are struggling with doubt to not let their doubt influence their lives to a point that they start living as if they are unbelievers. Encourage the doubter to continue to live as a Christian, even if they don’t feel like one anymore.

6. Realize that there is no timetable here

Each person is unique. Just like with depression, the faith crisis has no timetable. For some people, due to personality and life circumstances, their crisis will last a very long time. The more contemplative (and compulsive) might suffer with this intermittently for their entire lives. I know that is a long time to teeter on the edge of unbelief, but this is sometimes God’s method. Who knows how long Job was in his faith-defining crisis? One thing is for sure: it was not an overnight thing. So be patient. Join with the doubting in prayer for as long as it takes. Be kind, knowing that such problems are not uncommon to man.

7. Help people work through their sin

I saved this one for last intentionally. Normally, this is the first place that Christians go when a loved one is going through this crisis. The reason why people jump to this conclusion is hard to know, but I think it helps us to mentally put doubt into a discernible box. It also helps us to find a quick solution. “Oh, you are doubting your faith. Okay, then quit sinning. Next!!” As I have said before, the problem is not always this simple, but sometimes it is. Personal sin is a faith drainer. We cannot live in disobedience to God for too long without it taking a significant toll on our faith. Many times people experience a faith crisis because there is some deliberate sin that they are not dealing with.

However, one thing to keep in mind is that there is hardly a sin that is not deliberate. And we are all sinners. Therefore, we are all in deliberate sin. But God deals with us in different ways. Some sins, in order for us to stay in them, take a toll on our mind and worldview as we attempt to justify them. For example, a Christian living in homosexuality is one thing. This is a definite sin and will take its toll in many ways. But a Christian living in homosexuality and trying to justify this biblically is another thing. The toll here is not only a moral, social, and physical one, but one that corrupts the mind. The mental gymnastics required to make the Bible subjective enough to justify homosexual behavior are not going to remain isolated to this issue alone. Sooner or later, the mental paradigm that was created to make one sin viable will corrupt everything else.

In short, if there is something that we know we are supposed to be doing and we are not doing it, but instead justifying our behavior, doubt will soon spread and the crisis of faith will be hard to overcome. We need to gently ask these types of questions when the time is right. Simply accusing people of some deep-rooted personal sin right from the gun can be judgemental, embarrassing, and will not promote welcoming ears. Ask if there is any sin that they know of which might be causing this. If they say no and there is nothing that you know of which is sure to be the cause (for don’t we all know of some sin in the lives of loved ones), then don’t push this issue. You can return to it periodically when the crisis is not over and faith has not been restored.

Conclusion

Though a Calvinist, it should be obvious that I am not interested in the, “Was this person ever really saved to begin with?” question. It is an important theological question, but does not practically have any relevance here. I treat those who confess the faith as believers and work from there. I also treat each individual as if this person can truly lose their faith. After all, there is a faith that does not save and we need to hold this out as a real option. We may eventually find out that this person was not a believer, but we should cross that bridge when it becomes evident to all parties.

I am a perpetual doubter and am learning to live with it.  I don’t rejoice in my doubt and don’t really wish it upon anyone else. However, I have come to realize that it almost always makes my faith stronger in the end so long as I am not apathetic about it.

Back to where I started: I knew of one person who I believed was being used by God significantly that had not been though some sort of faith crisis that caused them to doubt their beliefs at the deepest level. Every other believer that has been of significant influence in my life has their “story.” Though not every one of them is confident enough to make their crisis known, I always make it a point to try to bring it out of them. I just figure it is there and under the right circumstances they will feel comfortable enough to share it. This has always been the case, save this one person. I just held out that this person was some sort of anomaly. He was an example of someone who either was so strong in the faith that doubt could never affect him, or one whom God was content not to put through such a trial. However, this changed one year ago, as this pastor went through his own crisis of doubt. He now has his “story” too. I believe that everyone who is used of God significantly will have their story. So take heart.

I hope this has been helpful. Soon I will write to parents about how to prepare for and prevent this type of faith crisis in their children. There is no way to prevent the trials, but there are definite things we can do ensure that our children do not sink into the depths of despair while their faith is growing.Similar Posts:

• Can Christians Doubt?
• Eight Points of Encouragement for Those Who Are Doubting Their Faith
• Dealing with Doubt: Coming Next Tuesday Evening
• “Memorize these Two Verses and Call Me in the Morning” or Dealing with Doubt – Part 2
• Dealing with Doubt: Part 4 – Intellectual Doubt

What defines ministry success? Oh, that is an easy one: lots of people. In a church, this may mean bigger buildings. At a bible study, this translates into lots of people who don’t fall asleep during your lesson. At home, this means successful witnessing to your neighbors. In your family, this means all your children loving the Lord. On your blog, this means more readers. On Twitter, this means more followers. Here at the Credo House, it means lots of people deepening in their faith as well as planting dozens of new Credo Houses all over the world. Any or all of these are what comes to mind when we define success in ministry.

I don’t mean to minimize the importance of numbers, statistics, and, indeed, people who grow in the Lord. However, I am coming to believe more and more that these things are secondary to true success. I am beginning to think that those people who have done the most for the Lord are going to be “no-names” to us. They are going to be the school teachers, the car salesmen, the waitresses, farmers, and mayors of small towns. They are going to be the Bobs, Tammys, Jacks, and Sarahs. In other words, they are going to be those people who no one really knew much about. Not the men of fame. Not the movers and shakers in the Christian commercial industry. Not even the pastors. They are going to be everyday folk with everyday names who, were it not for the eyes of the Lord which penetrates all that we hold dear, would not be ever known.

Think about those who made it into the list in Hebrews 11. You know THE list. The list of faith. The list of the great men and women of the past. The list of those whom the Lord had his eye on. While most of us know about these people, there was really nothing too special about them from the world’s point of view. If the Bible had not told us, we probably would not have said that they were “succesful” in ministry. They certainly would not have made my list. Some of them may have made the “other” list if you know what I mean.

Abel made it in because of one sacrifice he made in faith. He was a faithful giver.

Enoch just “walked with God”. I don’t really know exactly what that means, but it was substantial to the Lord. Substantial enough for God to “take him” before death.

Noah built a boat when the Lord told him to. He did not have any converts to join him on the boat, though I know he tried. How many unsuccessful evangelism attempts did he have? Be encouraged!

Abraham simply moved to another city when God told him to. As far as we know, he wrote no books, had no evangelistic crusades, and did not even blog!

Rahab hid spies of Israel in her apartment. That is it!

Samson . . . how did he get into this chapter? Were it not for Hebrews 11, there might be some debate as to whether we will even see him in glory! The very fact that he is here let’s us know that God’s score card and ours is much different. (And it encourages me!)

But notice that these people were nobodies. Well, let me rephrase that: they were not people we would expect to make it into the “faith chapter”. They were not people who went to seminary, started churches, had big websites, or were in demand on the speaking circuit. They were just everyday people who did something extraordinary: they believed God.

What a great thing it is for me (though I am in ministry) to remind myself that success each day comes down to believing God each day. You want to do something tremendous for the Lord? Don’t quit your job just yet. Don’t start your autobiography (it might be too boring anyway). Don’t always focus on what God has you to do in the future. Indeed, he may have something for you later. But he has something earth-shaking for you to do right now: believe him.

You see, that is the common tie between Rahab, Sarah, Samson, Moses, Abraham, and all the great men and women of faith in Hebrews 11: they all believed God when he said something. How complex we can make things. How simple things really are. I love this verse which shows the substance of their faith:

Heb 11:13
All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.

Are you are stranger on this earth? Do you believe you are? Do you trust God when he says that he is making all things new? If you do, you are extraordinary. You have a successful ministry beyond your imagination.

 Similar Posts:

• What is God’s Will for My Life: The 90/10 Rule
• Our Daily Truth: Stop Trying to be Someone Else
• "God Comes Before My Wife" . . . And Other Stupid Statements
• Cracked
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You know what I hate? I hate when I am corrected by my wife. Especially when she is right! My first tendency is to get defensive. “Michael, do you think you can start trying to spend more quality time with the kids?” (just to throw something completely random out there that I have never actually heard ). “It seems like you have been working a lot lately.” “What?!! I have not. Yes, I have had a lot of projects over the last month or two, but this is necessary to make ends meet. Which is more important: spending time with the kids or making sure they have food?” That is how things often go down when the confrontation is just between me and my wife. My first reaction is to get defensive. Many times I have sat in church and listened to a sermon where I could swear my wife must have called my pastor and given him fodder for the morning. The pastor essentially says the same thing as my wife, but to a more general audience. “The Bible tells us that we need to spend time with our family. Are you working too much? . . .” etc. I can’t tell you how many times this has happened. When it does, I can do nothing other than bow my head and say, “Yes Lord. I hear you.”

I have a hard time listening to the correction of others, especially when the correction is so direct and focused on me and my failings. Quit smirking. You do too. I often have to laugh at my sin nature as I reflect upon it. When someone attacks me personally, I usually won’t listen. When admonishment is given to a general audience in which I happen to reside, I will listen. Why? Because it is less personal. It seems more like God is the one doing the correcting, not the individual. Take this particular post for instance. I am indicting myself here, exposing my personal failings. Why does this come so easily right now? Because I am the one instigating the admission. Rarely do I write a blog of confession right after I have received an email or message of direct criticism (and I get plenty). This is just our nature – our sin nature.

In matters of biblical studies and theology, the ante is raised, especially for those of us who teach. Besides the corrections I receive on this blog, and from other bloggers who feel the need to write their own blogs correcting me, I often get emails from people who see themselves as called by God into the ministry of correction (is that a spiritual gift?). I am amazed at the number of people whom I have never met and who have never contacted me before, who feel ordained to send me a “first contact” of correction. There are people that I, upon seeing their name in my inbox, avoid like the plague. Feelings of dread come at the very sight of their names. Why? Because every time, their communication consists of some sort of criticism. Don’t get me wrong; I am not saying that every time we are corrected individually, we should submit to the correction. Often times the correction is off-base. However, there are those times when the correction is much needed, but the person giving the correction does not wisely consider our sin nature.

Isn’t there a Proverb for this? Hold on…Yep, here it is:

Proverbs 15:1
A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

Tact. Tact. And, did I mention tact? Oh, wait. Here is another.

Proverbs 12:18
There is one who speaks rashly like the thrusts of a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

Speaking of correcting those whom you feel are spreading dangerous doctrine:

2 Timothy 2:24
The Lord’s bond-servant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, able to teach, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition. (emphasis mine)

Concerning those who have fallen into sin:

Galatians 6:1
Brethren, even if a man is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, lest you too be tempted. (emphasis mine)

That “you who are spiritual” qualification discredits my intervention, oh, about sixty percent of the time. The other forty percent of the time I am disqualified by my tone!

And then there is the “apologists’ creed:”

1 Peter 3:15
But sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence.

How often do we read the first part, bear up arms, load the guns, and forget about the major qualification: “with gentleness and reverence.” (Not to mention this is to come “to those who ask!”) Again, this is just tact.

Some points to consider when you feel called to the ministry of correction:

• Search for the plank in your own eye (Matt. 7:3). When found, get rid of it. If you can’t get rid of it, stay silent.
• Attacking someone personally when you have never contacted them before is not tactful. You don’t have their audience. You should not expect them to listen.
• Attacking someone personally every time you correspond with them is not wise. I try to live by the 5/1 rule. Five words of encouragement for every one word of correction.
• Publicly condemning someone comes at great expense, not only to the ones who are directly involved, but to those who are introduced to the controversy. Think long and hard before airing your complaint publicly.
• Realize that most of the time, the people you correct are not under your authority. Therefore, you have no right to speak to them as if they are in submission to you. This is a tremendous problem as Christian leaders attempt to use the internet to conduct ministry. It is so easy to write a quick “open letter,” arrogantly supposing that you are something you are not. This can do more damage to the body of Christ than the error your are supposed to be correcting.
• If you are to call someone out publicly, write your statement, then rewrite it ten times. Each time, soften your complaint with more gentleness.
• Remember that the person against whom you are logging your complaint is one who was created in the image of God. Live in fear of this. Follow David who, though he had every reason to start a public campaign against Saul, feared Saul due to his own fear of the Lord. Due to this, he would not lift up his hand against him (1 Samuel 24:6). We need more Davids.
• To the one being corrected: do your best to consider what is being said, even when the correction did not come tactfully.
• To the one who is falsely confronted: forgive the person. Don’t let it eat at you. Forgive them the moment you are hurt. Remember, they are sinners are well. Grace goes both ways.

Rarely do I use this ministry as a platform to call someone out. This is just not the place. Don’t get me wrong. This does not mean I have not often been tempted. In fact, three weeks ago I spent all day working on a 3000-word post which was directed at a theologian whom I believed was taking a serious turn for the worse. I reworked and reworked it. I deleted words and rephrased sentences. I did everything I could to follow the principles I laid out above. When I finished, I read it out loud and asked for feedback from some members of my staff. They were encouraged by it and felt that it was tactful. I waited ten more minutes and then decided to delete it. This is what I told our staff: ”This is just not us. It is not what I want us to be known for. I will let others write these types of things if need be. I don’t care about the traffic it could bring. Let’s continue to do what we do and deal with these things in a more indirect way. It is more tactful and effective anyway.” A day wasted? Yes. But as my mentor Chuck Swindoll would say: “phooey.”

When we follow these principles, not only will we be more biblical, but when a time of stern correction is needed, we will have an audience with the one who needs the correction.Similar Posts:

• Calling in “Spiritually Sick” to Work Today
• Let Ninety-Five Percent Roll off Your Back
• How to Listen in Sunday School
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Wherever, whatever, however God, I am ready to sacrifice it all.

Problem: there is no altar. Well, not like you thought. If it exists, it does not exist in the glory of your perceptions. You pray continually for God to show you his direction. There has to be a place for me in his army.

Here’s what you do:

You decide to become a missionary. You talk to your wife and your family about quitting your job and becoming a full time missionary in Africa. Why Africa? Just because. You wife thinks you are nuts and your children don’t understand. All attempts to infect her with the desire to die have the opposite effect. But you are not about to question your calling. In your spiritual high, you place some distance between you and your family, believing that it is the Lord’s will. Discouragement has yet to set in.

Or maybe . . .

You decide to start a church. Your passions will be realized as you minister in your local community, transforming all those around you with the preaching—expository preaching—of the word of God. You are sick of the churches that would not know the Gospel if it hit them in the knee cap. You are going to be the lighthouse on a hill. You don’t really know what to do so you get on Microsoft Word and make a flier. You put a nice Bible graphic that you found from Google image search on the flier, along with the announcement of the new Bible study that is going to be held at your friend’s coffee shop.

The day comes. Hundreds of fliers have been handed out. Two people show. One is your wife. The other is a nice young girl who just broke up with her boyfriend and had nothing else to do that night. It’s past time for the Bible study to start and you look outside in hopes that someone else will show. Someone pulls up and leaves upon the realization that they might be the only ones there. You attempt to teach the Bible study, but the disappointment of teaching two people when you hoped for 30 to 40 takes the wind out of your sails. All you want to do is go home and cry.

Or maybe . . .

You decide to go to seminary, but don’t get accepted.

Or maybe . . .

You start with a small missions endeavor, but you don’t get the funds.

Or maybe . . .

You go to your pastor and tell him you will serve wherever, but, not only is he not as excited about your prospective involvement as you thought he would be, there is nothing for you to do. He says he will call you if something comes up. Nothing ever comes up.

Or maybe . . .

You start with a bang, but then it fizzles and no one is as anxious and excited as you are. You feel let down and discouraged.

What do you do when you try . . . I mean really try to die for Christ, but he won’t let you. What do you do when you are on the altar and you don’t die, but your are getting really sunburned?

This is to those of you who feel called to do something big for the Lord, but it never happens.

Don’t give up your zeal.  The first two illustrations given above are round about reenactments of my life. Someone has once said that the Christian life is a life of starting over—every morning! Don’t let let-downs discourage you. You may be let down, but God has not set you down. Remember, he is not setting you on a 100 meter dash, but on a long distance run—a long distance run. I love new Christians who are set on giving their lives up for the Lord. But I am so saddened when I see those who had such a zeal reenter their old life with great discouragement, wondering why the Lord did not use them. God will use you. God is using you. But he does not carve out flashes in the pan. He creates endurance. I know . . . He does not move as quickly as we like. Keep the zeal and passion, but let the Lord set the pace. This is the hardest thing to do.

Ministry is not the de facto solution to satisfy your intense craving to die for the Lord. Remember, you are a living sacrifice. A living sacrifice. Don’t be surprised if you live! Don’t be surprised if you live a life that is rather ordinary, not making a significant impact every direction you turn. Don’t impose such a goal upon the Lord. Remember Abraham? What the heck was so great about his life? I don’t know that he ever held a great evangelistic crusade. He never traveled all over the world with nothing but his Bible. He never wrote any books. He did not pastor a church. He did not even start a blog. From what I read about him, if it weren’t for the Bible and God’s testimony about him, he would have never made much of a footprint in the world. Or, better, we would not have recognized the footprint he did make. Why then is he so great? Because he was a friend of God. He trusted him. Everyday, he believed God. He endured quietly.

Sometimes being a living sacrifice is just quietly trusting the Lord.

Be quiet and tranquil. The Lord will show your path in your tranquility. Paul tells the Thessalonians to “make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands” (1Th 4:11). Ouch. But impacts are never “quiet.” I want to make an impact. I want to stir things up. I want to drop a bomb on the world leaving behind the sign of the Trinity! The problem is that your bomb could be the very opposite of God’s plan. Your bomb could be you getting off the altar. God will direct you.

I have just watched a very dear friend who had so much zeal for the Lord, so much passion to follow him, so much desire to die that he now sits, divorced, estranged from his wife and family, with his head in his hands wondering why the Lord gave him a spiritual cement job. In his zeal, he outran the Lord and left his wife because he could not wait for her to catch up.

Your passions may open the doors you expect and they may not. But you are to sit on the altar, no matter where you are or how God leads, and be a living sacrifice. Chuck Swindoll once said that the problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar. Get back on the altar.

What do you do when you cannot die for Christ? Live for him.Similar Posts:

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1. Women in ministry

2. Creation/Evolution issues

3. Calvinism/Arminianism stuff

I would put them in that order too. Talk about these topics, and be prepared for a divided crowed. Blog one of these issues and get ready for the comments section to explode. Take a stand on one of these and prepare yourself to be assigned with some nasty label. Stay away from these issue and live long and prosper . . . or something like that.

As controversial as these topics are, I have also found that there is one greater than all of these. It is not necessarily in the area of systematic theology. It would fit better in practical theology. While those referenced above may get one’s blood boiling in the heat of the battle, there is one that has a greater more sustained and nuanced effect upon our disposition. I would call it “ecclesiology” (the doctrine of the church), but I think that such an academic designation would detract from its broader appeal. Simply put, it is How we do church.

I make it a habit to take breaks from my local assembly and visit other churches that are not of my ilk. Sometimes it is just a one time visit. Other times it is for an extended stay. (Some people are shifting in their seat right now, others have quit reading.) Sometimes it is a church with a “high” liturgy. Others it is at a church that would say “litur-what?” I do this for self-preservation. I do this for spiritual edification. I do this for ecclesiastical exercise. Most of all, I do this so that I can have grace.

I believe that one of the greatest grace killers that we can have in our lives is an overly critical spirit about other churches.

I was having lunch with a pastor not too long ago who only wanted to talk about another church in the area. His opinions about the way they do church were not favorable. Though he had never been to this church, he had heard enough. His church was a “Bible-centered Church for believers.” Their church was a “Seeker driven church for unbelievers.” In his opinion, they were too fast and loose with their accommodations to the world. They were trying to build bridges to the lost, but now they had taken on the identity of the bridges, not the Kingdom to where the bridge was supposed to lead. Though the Gospel was preached, it was only milk that they offered. In his opinion, they should have a “Meat unavailable” sign out front.

I was reading another local pastor who was going off about another pastor in the area. This time it was just the opposite. This guy led a “seeker” church (which essentially means that more than fifty-percent of the intentionality of the main church service is based on getting the lost saved). He came down hard on the other pastor because he was referencing Greek and Hebrew during his message. “The church is not a seminary,” he said. He emphasized that this will do nothing but produce high and mighty arrogant Christians, and will run the rest off.

The main point that both of these pastors expressed was that their church was the one right way to do church (or at least much more right than the other). Veer just a bit from their sanctified methodology and hands are no longer held in the missio dei.

I used to be this way. Let me rephrase: I am this way, but I am in recovery.

“Hi, my name is Michael and I am a Church critic.”

“Hi Michael.” 

My approach to evaluating churches is becoming quite simple. I am starting to be able to appreciate just about any church where the Bible is being taught and the Gospel proclaimed. There can be all kinds of things I would do different. There can be all kinds of weaknesses in other areas. But when I find a church where the word of God is consistently proclaimed, more often than not, I find the power of God. When I visit a church where the Bible is respected as the final authority, I find those who are on the same mission as I. When I find a church where people are led to the Gospel, I find myself among brothers and sisters. Most importantly, when I find a church where the Bible is believed, I am surprised. It is a rare treat these days. 

Sometimes we go to churches and think:

“Maybe the Bible is being taught, but it is not expositional. God is only slightly here.”

“Maybe it is expositional, but the music is compromisingly loud. God cannot exist in such chaos.”

“Maybe the Gospel is strongly proclaimed, but people don’t know what to do next. God is waiting for them to get to step two.”

“Maybe there is good discipleship, but the Gospel is not clearly proclaimed each week with an alter call. God does not appreciate the snub.”

“Maybe people open their Bible’s here, but they use the Message. God does not like the Message.”

“Maybe these people know doctrine, but I never see them at the downtown mission. God does not like inlets with no outlets.”

On and on we could go. Yes, we could do this about your church too. I promise.

I have to train myself continually to appreciate the methodology that others are using. I have to train myself to recognize God’s presence in any number of situations. I have to remember that the Bible does not give too many “hows” of doing church.

Today I sat at a certain worship service of a church I do not normally attend and saw so many things that I could criticize, come down upon, and get worked up over. Here and there I had to stop myself. At my best moments I knew, as the Bible was being taught, that I was at the house of brothers and sisters. I knew that God works in spite of all our methodologies. I know that we are all traditionalists at heart. There is no one perfect way to do church. But there is a way to kill grace. And if grace has died, what have we got?

How do we become children with regard to our criticism of other churches? How do we unmake our beds of methodological triumph? Who’s victory are we proclaiming when we look down on other Bible believing churches? Why are we so territorially inclined?

“Hi, my name is Michael and I am a critic of Church methodology.”

“Hi Michael.” 

Don’t get me wrong. I have a particular way in which I would conduct a church. A bit more traditional than some. A bit more progressive than others. Neither high-church nor low-church. But my way is not the right way. It is not necessarily even more right than another. It is just my way, with its relative strengths and weaknesses. I am glad God gave us this freedom. I think it is why the church can shape itself in every culture and in every period of history.

In my opinion, to say that there is a “biblical liturgy” or a biblical way of doing church is about as unbiblical as we can be. It is a grace killer. And in the end, it is not the Spirit of God you are quenching in that church, it is the Spirit of God in you.Similar Posts:

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As important as it is for us to reveal the “cracks” when selling our car it is infinitely more important for us to be up front about the cracks in our lives to others. Chuck Swindoll told a story on his blog the other day. Early in his ministry he was looking for the “keys to success” and sought the advice of a man he admired very much:

“How do you do it, Jim?” I asked him. “Tell me the secret of ministering to people.” I expected him to say, “Always set the pace,” or, “Be strong no matter what,” or, “Model the truth, and stand against the adversary as he attacks you.” I got none of that. Jim just smiled in his inimitable, casual way and answered, “Chuck, let people see the cracks in your life, and you’ll be able to minister to them.”

That’s it. That’s the distilled essence of all he told me.

As we left their cabin that cool evening, I felt somewhat like the deflated, rich young ruler, who had just asked Jesus how to inherit eternal life (Mark 10:17). Like Jesus’s surprising answer to the ruler, Jim’s reply was not what I expected. Frankly, it convicted me. I was looking to minister from my strengths. Jim challenged me to serve in weakness.  He made that statement to me over fifty years ago, and it remains one of the greatest lessons I have learned in ministry. I have never forgotten it.

I immediately related that to theology. I look out across the spectrum of all those I admire, all those I read every day, all those I listen to, and find myself coming back to those who have cracks. They write the books I read a second time (or just get through the first time!). They record the sermons I listen to again and again. They are the ones who are real. I can relate to them. Why? Because I have cracks.

None of us have it all figured out. Sure, we have some success stories that can wow the listeners. Yes, we have some convictions that are set in cement. But we also have cracks. We have a lot that confuses us. We have skeletons in our theological closet. We have doubts that we don’t allow to surface. We have experiences that don’t quite add up. Many times we are walking on the tight rope of life with the weight of pain and hope sharing space on the balancing pole and sometimes pain wins the day. These are cracks. 

Just once I would like to see someone conceded a debate. Just once! (Or at least a point in debate.) Just once I want to see someone give themselves as the negative illustration—the “what not to do.” Just once I would like to see a testimony of someone who loves the Lord that is not concluded with a nice red bow. Sometimes we are still a mess. But we have our image to keep up. And, sometimes, we can get caught up into thinking that image is more important than truth. The sell is more important than integrity. But when push comes to shove cracked people will not listen to uncracked people very long. And believe me, they know. Sooner or later people will start looking for someone more like them.

I talked to a pastor the other day who shared with me in confidence a terrible emotional trial he went through last year. I had no idea. I had to pry it out of him. But as I sat and listened to his story, for the first time in a long time I felt as if he knew pain, discouragement, and doubt the way I had. For the first time, he became real. And you know what, his stature and authority did not diminish a bit. It actually rose five or six notches.

He told me that he had never told anyone but his wife. I asked him why not. He said he did not want to discourage his  people. But you know what? They are already discouraged. They are not looking to you for perfection, but for hope. There is a lot more to be said for a person who has battle wounds (yes, even open battle wounds) and is still fighting than for the one who has none.

Showing cracks is really the only way to be real. Whether it is in your life or in your theology, don’t be afraid to let them see your cracks. If you don’t have them, then you are not in the battle. It’s that simple.Similar Posts:

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Many times it depends on the place or my surroundings. When I am at my father’s house (i.e. “home”), I feel the least like a “man of God” who is called to preach the word. The designation “pastor” causes me to cringe and blush at these times. I suppose that it is because I am around people who know me best. They know the real me. They have seen me at my worst. They have seen what I can do. When I lived in Frisco, Texas, pastoring at Stonebriar Community Church, I used to say that my ordination was removed the moment  I crossed the Red River. When in Oklahoma, I became as timid and insecure as ever. When I am like this, don’t call on me to pray before a meal. Don’t call on me to preach a sermon. Don’t even ask me spiritual questions. Yes, I will oblige, but I will be completely out of character. I have gotten better since I have moved back to Oklahoma, but the consistent sense of my “calling” is still very relative.

Other times it is my life circumstances.  Mood swings take me from one extreme to the other. When I am in a bad mood, tired, or irritable (did I say irritable), my confidence level goes way down. The “call” becomes valid only as I look to the past; the present militates against it. “Who do you think you are? If you are the teacher, what are you teaching them to do? Be like you? I have seen unbelievers who are more of a joy to be around then you! Where is that peace that passes understanding?”  Sheesh, leave me alone.

I can’t compartmentalize the way I would like. Kristie and I have a lot of ups and downs. Let’s put it this way: we are not ready to do any marriage conferences…don’t ask! When our marriage is not going so well, it is a tremendous burden on me in every way. Specifically though, with regard to my calling, I feel the least called when the closest relationship that I have is falling flat on its face. Oh that I would just be able to separate the two—my calling and my marriage. But if I did, I feel as if I would call the game due to forfeit. I am glad I can’t compartmentalize. I hate that I can’t compartmentalize.

When ministry itself seems to smell of artificial additives. I have seen ministries that seem to be run completely in the flesh and somehow “make it.” This terrifies me. Every once in a while, some smoke clears for me. Whether it be a bad night of teaching, a realization that I was wrong about something I before believed and taught with such conviction, feelings of inferiority toward those with whom I am in disagreement, or a realization of methodological manipulation. Once this smoke clears all that is left is a sudden realization that I am a charlatan. Additives of arrogance and pride of calling taste of the bitterness of self-elevation. The pulpit that God gave me becomes the pulpit I built. All I can hope for at this point is that the clearing was no clearing at all. All I can hope is that there is actually smoke being let in, not smoke being let out. But it is hard to tell the difference. 

You don’t know how many times I have put my resume out in my mind. I have contemplated for years giving it all up. This is nothing new. Today’s confession of inadequacy is nothing more than a public surfacing of my perpetual inner contemplations and struggles. I am no closer or further from confidence than the day I stepped out of seminary.

You ask me: “Michael, how do you know that you are called to this type of ministry? How are you so certain that you are called to teach and preach to God’s people in such a way?”

I am not certain. I don’t know. The only thing that I can say to myself is what I would say to others in my circumstance: God is sovereign and he is gracious. He is not wringing his hands or pulling out his hair wondering how I got ordained into ministry. As well, he is not waiting for me to be perfect before he can use me. I have to remember that. God has never used one perfect person outside of Christ. All others were miserable failures in more ways than one. Therefore, I carry on in timid, prayerful trepidation hoping that God will use me to teach his truth.Similar Posts:

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January 2000. I have just been hired as an intern at Stonebriar Community Church. I still have a year left at Dallas Theological Seminary, but my excitement is far beyond anything I could have ever imagined six years ago when I began to think about ministry. My life had not been one of a minister in preparation by any means. It was a  fun, selfish, sinful, and “I’ll-deal-with-you-later-Lord” type life . You can read about it here. However, now things were different. The constant adrenaline that the idea of full-time service for the Lord was enough to keep my mind off my past failures. Watching Braveheart in 1995 seventeen times at the theater fueled my motivation. I thought to myself If I could just give my life for something bigger than myself like William Wallace did then contentment would be found in sacrifice. This was the road I was on. Excited, motivated, hopeful, and ready to change lives, I was now working for Chuck Swindoll, my hero.

The internship at Stonebriar Community Church for small groups turned into an internship for missions and outreach. This was good. I was going to set the example of one who was passionate for God. I was going to catch the eye of those around me. They were going to look at me and say to themselves Now that is what a young minister should be like. Maybe even Chuck Swindoll would call me into his office and commend my passions and service. Maybe Chuck would become my mentor.

I graduated in 2001 with a Th.M. from Dallas Theological Seminary. That is a theological masters—yes masters. From their standpoint I was a jedi of theology. Would others take notice? They would have to. Not only this, but I won awards for service and teaching from the seminary and graduated at the top of my class. I was ordained into the ministry by the elders of Stonebriar Community Church in May of 2001. Chuck preached a sermon that was devoted just to me (well, there were three others who were ordained, but he was looking at me most of the time). Chuck and the elders laid their hands on me as I was on my knees whispering prayers, words of encouragement, and warnings in my ear.

Now, I was totally prepared and confirmed for ministry. I am on full-time pastoral staff at Stonebriar Community Church. My past was under my feet and I was turning my foot on it like a discarded cigarette.

Sitting in my office not long after this I was preparing a lesson while dreaming about what The Theology Program could become when I got a phone call that would put me in my place.

“David wants to meet with you.” These were the words of my administrative assistant Lynn.

“He says that you two should go to lunch to talk.”

David Chavanne was the senior associate pastor. He was just below Chuck on the totem pole. Now you would think from what I have said so far that I would pridefully strut to this lunch date expecting nothing but the best. But this was not the case. The only feeling I had that moment was one of overwhelming fear, shame, and sadness. The first thought that came to my mind was They have found me out. The thoughts went on. The gig is up; Time to pack my bags and move on; I should have known better than to think this was the Lord’s will. What was I thinking? Who did I think I was fooling? I am not fit for ministry. With these thoughts, that day I came to realize that I was not quite so sure of my calling as I led others and myself to believe. My subconscious insecurity was now part of my ministry and my life.

Now, what you must know is that there was not anything in particular that I thought they found out about. There was no secret sin that I was hiding about which I believed was the reason for the meeting. It was just me. They found out about me. They knew I was a fraud, and this phone call brought this fact to my own conscious. Whether they had seen my past or my present, they would realize that they had made a mistake in ordaining and hiring me.

Off I went to meet David with plans to accept the collective wisdom of the elders and begin to think more seriously about what God really wanted me to do. I imagined that the elders had a troublesome meeting and David was sent to dish out the bad news with as much sensitivity as he could.

I don’t even remember what the meeting was about, but it was not about their discovery of the real Michael Patton as I had supposed. It was either about some administrative issues or simply a “let’s get to know each other” type of meeting. I was “safe”—for now.

The feelings of secret anxiety that this surfaced that day have been with me ever since. Over the next few years, every time that one of my superiors in the ministry would call a meeting or invite me to lunch, the same thoughts would resurface. Have they found me out this time? Well, either way, it is just a matter of time.

Laying in my bed one night I began to think about what I will do when someone actually does find me out. As I thought about all the alternatives, I came to an important discovery about my passions—they were real. Even if I feel totally inadequate to serve and represent the Lord, this is what I would do. Whether I work at a bank, return to the fitness industry, or find a new career all-together, I would find a way to minister. Those were my thoughts. In my mind I was already planning how to continue in the ministry, spreading the magnificent message of the majesty of God and His mercy, no matter where I was at. I told the Lord that night that I don’t care what I do, I will serve and love You.

Over the next few years I began to talk to other ministers about my phobia and insecurity. To my surprise, most of those in ministry, whether they had just started or been there for years, expressed the exact same feelings. While I thought I was coming to them to confess my fears, I found this fear was common for all those who serve the Lord. We all have a deep sense of inadequacy. As I would talk about this with other ministers, I came to a deeper understanding of the grace of God. Is it that radical? Yes, I think it is. Radical enough to use you even though He has already found you out—even though you are inadequate and not fit for ministry.

Am I inadequate for ministry? Yes. So are you. We all are. If you have the “I’m not fit for ministry” syndrome, you are in good company. In fact, I have come to fear those who don’t have this syndrome. We know ourselves better than anyone. We know who we really are. We are intimately acquainted with our past failures and present struggles. These are not pretty. We are often selfish and many times prideful. We will let people down. We doubt and are scared, and we are not really as smart as we think. Laments are the norm rather than praise. In short, we are sinful.

If we are self-reflective, we will constantly be questioning our legitimacy. When we are at out best—when we are the most fit for ministry—we turn to God’s grace to supply us with confidence. He is our adequacy. Our commitment to Him is always mediated through our sinfulness. I am learning to live with “I’m not fit for ministry” syndrome. I think Paul did the same when he referred to himself in the present tense as the “chief of sinners.”

1 Timothy 1:15 15: “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.”

Paul learned to live with this syndrome relying on God’s grace. Chuck Swindoll once said during a sermon, “If you really knew the person sitting next to you, you would not sit next to them and if you really knew me, you would not listen to me.” I think this is true for all of us.

May God’s grace be our confidence as we grow in a body of sin and inadequacy.Similar Posts:

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Type of Seminary

There are three types of seminaries you need to be aware of:

1. University – These are those that are connected to a larger university and sometimes are simply a department within the institution (e.g. “Department of Divinity”). The spectrum of education will be very broad, ranging from conservative to liberal. Sometimes it will just depend on the professor. The advantages here normally include the broadness of the education provided and the lack of conservative and traditional assumptions. The disadvantage will be that many times these type of seminaries have as their purpose to deconstruct with no intention of reconstructing. In other words, there will be a greater chance the purpose of your education will be to produce a confused student (which is a construction itself).

If your purpose is to be prepared for ministry by godly leaders, you will find university-type seminaries and divinity schools to be weaker than the other options as the standards of belief and commitment to the historic Christian faith will be very loose. Some of the professors might even be atheists!

In my opinion, Duke and Notre Dame stand out above the rest here.

2. Denominational or Traditional - These are those seminaries that are connected to a particular denomination or Christian tradition. Their primary purpose is to establish the student in the dogmas and doctrines associated with their tradition. Baptist schools will train up Baptist leaders, Presbyterians schools will prepare Presbyterians, Reformed schools hope to produce Reformed graduates, and so on. Many times there is overlap with this type of seminary and the university as some universities are sponsored by a particular tradition (e.g. Baylor; Notre Dame). The advantage here is that you will be trained and educated in a way that will fit the needs of a said tradition. The disadvantage is that the outcome of your education is more predetermined.

3. Independent – These are those seminaries that don’t neatly fit into either of the previous categories. They are usually independent Evangelical training institutions that are representative of a movement or idea. They are often thought of as the tertium quid (“third way” or “middle ground”) between the denominational or university types. However, this is a little simplistic as many independent seminaries have just as much of an predetermined plan as the other two. The advantage here is that you may be able to get a broader education than the denominational-type while maintaining the ministry focus. This is especially the case with Evangelical seminaries who, at least in theory, fit under the broad umbrella of Evangelicalism.

Field of Study

There are also issues that involve particular fields of study. Some seminaries are going to have a stellar language department, but lack in theology. Others are going to be strong in preaching, but weak in apologetics. Others will be known for their Christian counseling, but void of worship (music) ministries. If you already know your passion, you should find a seminary that is going to serve that passion well.

However, many of you are going into seminary not knowing anything other than that you want to serve the Lord full-time. Therefore, this criteria is not going to be as useful. So many of you will discover your calling while engaged in a broader training environment. This is okay.

Size of the School

You must also consider the size of the school and the advantages and disadvantages this offers. Small schools will provide more intimacy with both students and professors. It is a wonderful thing to build this type of community. However, the larger schools will be able to draw the more well-known professors for every department (and most of the time they are well-known for a reason!). This will provide a more balanced and robust education all around. Larger schools will also be able to provide you with more opportunities as the placement department will be larger (see below).

Accreditation and Notoriety

Most seminaries will be accredited by an official accrediting organization such as The Association of Theological Schools (ATS). You want to check into this. Accreditation not only evidences that the school is up to par on time-tested standards, but gives them notoriety. If your school has notoriety, then your degree will share the same.

Placement Department

This is normally one that you don’t think about or appreciate until its too late.  But you must consider the placement department. Placement departments are responsible for opening doors of opportunity for you upon graduation. Some seminaries may not even have placement departments, therefore it is up to you to find a place of service upon graduation. Others have very large placement departments who can hardly keep up with the demand of ministries and churches in need. When a seminary has a good reputation, this is the first place that many will look to fill a vacancy.

Purpose

In the end, your choice for seminary must be guided by your purpose. Are you seeking to be a Baptist pastor? Then your best bet is to go to a Baptist school whose candidates are chosen from the placement offices of these schools. Are you looking to be a professor at a university? Then you will be presented with the most opportunity by attended a university-type seminary. Is your desire to be involved in a non-denominational Evangelical church or parachurch ministry? Then you should look to one of the independent seminaries.

One thing that you must understand is that education is not the goal of a seminary. Preparation is. Education will always be involved, but often there must be some practition that moves beyond languages, systematics, and doctrine. You can train with the most intelligent professors who have the best information. You can train with the professors with the most wisdom who can see things others cannot see. You can train with those who have a great deal of experience in pastoral care who will help you understand what it will be like when you are in the pastor’s office. You can train under those who have a passion for truth who will challenge your assumptions. Or you can train under those who are passionate about Christ and are completely focused on him. In my opinion, it is ideal to have all of these together in one place!

Some ideals

Critical studies: While I believe that a seminary should be understood as preparation for Christian ministry, this should not mean that your education is simply an exercise in confirming your prejudice. Your most dearly held beliefs—even the most fundamental beliefs—need to be challenged. This is the advantage of university-type seminaries. They usually (though not always) have more academic freedom to challenge and be challenged. In the end, you want your beliefs to have intellectual integrity. If the education is nothing more than indoctrination, then the seminary is not doing its job. This is why I don’t normally prefer denominational or traditional seminaries.

Faithful professors: While there is a lot to learn from unbelievers and those who are not committed to the historic Christian faith, most people who go to seminary are preparing for ministry. A student will eventually be like his teacher. If the professor does not have much faith or conviction, his teaching will have the same result. You want professors who are committed to that which they teach and therefore teach with conviction. If the seminary does not produce those who are convinced of the truth of historic Christianity, I would have a hard time truly classifying them as seminaries. This is going to be the weakness of the university-type seminaries. (As a side-note, I think for those going into ministry that the university-type seminaries are best for PhDs, not Masters.)

Correction: You don’t want to attend schooling where the professors are intelligent and godly, but too nice to tell you when you are wrong. While we all need affirmation, we all need correction just as much. The professor is there to shape and change you. This is not going to happen without the professor being seriously committed to sometimes ”wounding his friends.” The best way to find this out is to talk to current students. In high school you used to take only the classes where the teacher would give you an “A” for doing nothing more than making paper airplanes. Seminary is much more serious than that. Make sure the professor is willing to fail you.

In the end, one of the best ways to choose a good seminary is to look at its graduates. Who do you admire most? Who do you feel has the best training and balance? Who comes out of their education more deeply committed than they were when the went in? Find out where they went and go there.

By the way, if I could do it all over again, while there are so many good seminaries that I love and respect, I would go back to Dallas Theological Seminary.

For those of you who have been to seminary:

• How did you choose?
• Are you happy with your choice?
• What advice to you have for the person who asks you how to choose a good seminary?

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As many of you know, I often like to take a break from my church and explore what is going on in other places. Today was one of those days. Due to my confusion, I don’t have a pulpit with me right now. Therefore, I am comfortable revealing names and places. I went to Life Church today. This is not so unusual as I have been there before. The main campus is just a couple of miles down the street.

Life Church is one of those things that makes someone of my tradition scratch their heads. I have scratched a big portion of my hair out today. Life Church is somewhat of a phenomenon. It has become quite legendary due to the way church is done. They are more technologically savvy than Paramount pictures. Let me just briefly describe the service today to help you out.

This summer the theme has been “Life Church at The Movies” (or something like that). When you walk in there are huge posters that are done in the theme of Toy Story. These are the kind of posters that we would have to create a separate line item at the Credo House to cover. They were visually stunning. But that is not even half of it. In the lobby, everything is decorated according to a movie theater/Toy Story theme. “Decorated” is a bad word as it was much more than just decoration. It was a movie theater entrance. And a nice one at that. On the other side of the lobby, there were artifacts from the Toy Story set. You would not believe it. They had a twelve foot etch-a-sketch. I think it actually worked! Andy’s room was set up perfectly in a separate roped off area. They even had an eight foot tall game machine like the one that the aliens were taken from in Toy Story 1 (you know . . . those guys who say “you have saved our lives, we are eternally grateful”). I could go into more detail, but you get the idea.

Wait…I have some pictures.

Etch-A-Sketch to Left

Alien Game to Right

The idea during this movie series is to show twenty or thirty minutes of an inspirational movie and then draw lessons from it. Today the movie was “The Blind Side.” Last week it was “Walk the Line.” The messages were great. The typical motivational seminar type stuff with some Christian justification behind it. Not too much scripture. Certainly not any expositional preaching.

Now I need to back up a bit…

I am from a tradition that is in a love/hate relationship with this kind of stuff, with hate tipping the scales more often than not. Its called by many names: “seeker-sensitive,” “seeker-friendly,” or the more pejorative “seeker driven.” I went to seminary when all this seeker stuff was hotly debated. Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Church was the book to read and your spirituality was based on how much you hated it. The biggest and, for many, most definitive criticism of the “seeker” mentality is that while there is evangelism that happens, discipleship can hardly be found. Like a friend of mine often says, “Tastes great, less filling.” Michael Spencer used to call this movement the “Evangelical circus.”

Now, I have to come clean and admit something here. There is a sense in which those like me actually want these type of churches to fail. That is hard for me to admit. In fact, I am thinking about taking that line out. But it is true. “See . . . I told you so” are words that are often on the tip of my tongue ready to be interjected at the slightest hint that the “seeker” churches have compromised or failed. What a terribly sinful entanglement that I have. I admit it. There is no justification for that.

Okay, back to the story…

I sat down by some big biker dude. He was awesome. Long hair, bandanna, and long ungroomed beard. For a moment, I thought he might be a prop for the set. Then I looked across the church and saw that he was not so uncommon. None of these people looked like “churchy” people at all. The majority were under forty and dressed in the same thing they were going to wear for the rest of the day (or the same thing they wore last night). Did I mention flip-flops? Lots of flip-flops (including mine). Concerning my biker neighbor, I did not know anything about him. I did not know what sins he struggled with, how his marriage was, or what he did the night before. However, I could tell that he was glad to be there and he seemed to really love Jesus. I was glad he was there too. In this place, for better or worse, the curtain between the church and the culture was wrent in twain. The atmosphere was one of grace and excitement.

Was the lesson impactful? For me, it was a 3 on a scale of 10. Sure, I felt a bit of conviction “to go,” as the message said, “and find someone in need and be an influence upon them.” But it is one of those things. In order for it to really have any chance of lasting beyond a fly in the ointment of my conscience for the day, the conviction level must be above a 6. Otherwise it is just one-day-guilt. I normally respond better to those messages that are grounded in Scripture and illustrated by a movie rather than grounded in a movie and illustrated by Scripture. (There, got my one cheap shot flowing with snarkiness out. I feel a tincy bit better.)

However, there was something different going on there. Something that was intoxicating. Something that my spirit had been deprived of but I failed to realize it until now. A spiritual anti-depressant if you will. It was the power of the Gospel. But not this alone. It was the power of the Gospel as it was proclaimed to so many people who had never heard it. From what I understand, there were hundreds, even thousands, of unchurched people there. Seems right. It is a “seeker” church. That is what all the production is for: to get unbelievers to come hear the message of Christ by whatever means (within reason) necessary.  We were informed that over four-hundred people accepted Christ last week during the “Walk the Line” message. Now, I take those numbers with a grain of salt. However, I would not be surprised if there are not a lot of people who are being ushered into the kingdom at this church. Whatever people might think of Craig Groeschel (the lead pastor) and his philosophy of ministry, he gives one of the clearest presentations of the true and uncompromised Gospel that I have ever heard. It is this that is so exhilarating. To witness the evangel (the Gospel) being proclaimed to so many in need is a vitalization, for me, of what we are about. You must understand, being from this part of town and growing up living on the other side of the Christian train tracks, these people represented hundreds of my friends and acquaintances that I grew up with who I could never get to come to my church or show up for a Bible study, but were sitting there willingly listening to what Christ has done for them and how to be forgiven.

It has been a long time since I have wanted to stand up and cheer, but today I jumped off the wagon of evangelical stagnation and was reminded about why we are here. It is this vitalized celebration of my heart that has confused me. I want with all of my stubborn being to say how wrong Life Church, the new Mecca of seeker churches, has got it. But I can’t.

What I have been coming to realize over the years is that there is simply no one way to do church. I think that this is a strength of Evangelicalism. We can stretch in many directions. Evangelicalism has its arms open wide to a varied set of liturgies, from high church formality to Toy Story lobbies. Neither do I don’t think that there is one transcendently right way to do church. I am not arguing for seeker churches, but I am not arguing against them either. They have their place, and I think it is about time to recognize how God is using them in spite of all our “yeah, buts.” There are some churches that are good at the discipleship, but lack in outreach. There are some churches that are good at community, but lack in strong teaching. There are some churches that are good at connecting with the past, but have no connection to the present. And there are some that are good at converting the lost, but don’t know what to do with them after.

I have yet to find the perfect church. I am coming to think that our territorialism is the biggest problem. We want to throw rocks at the church across the street for not having the strengths of our church, while not recognizing our weaknesses. We have a distorted self-defense that clinches its fist when people are not doing things the way we think they ought to. While I think churches should be as balanced as they can, maybe the individual churches should unclinch their fists and begin to hold hands with those who don’t share their strengths but do cater to their weaknesses. I am not so sure that we should see ourselves as ”belonging” to any one church.

When Paul would write to the churches, he never addressed any particular group or gathering within the larger whole. He did not write one letter to the “First Baptist Church at Corinth” and one to the ”Evangelical Community Church at Corinth.” While I am sure there were many individual house gatherings by that time, all having strengths and weaknesses, he wrote to “the church at Corinth.” No territorialism. No rocks. No preference. Everyone saw themselves as parts of the whole. It is the whole that needed the message. This is how he wrote to all the churches. I figure that were he to write to my church, it would be addressed to “the church of Oklahoma City.” The problem is that we are so busy throwing rocks, criticizing each others’ weaknesses, and territorially worried about our own church’s budget, that we would probably not recognize the other churches and share the letter.

Do churches have gaping holes of weakness? Certainly. Is discipleship a hole in Life Church. I think it is. Does Life Church need to change their style. No. What they are doing is incredible. Where else would my biker friend feel welcome? They, like all local churches, need to recognize that they are only one part of something bigger. Having gapping holes of weakness does not mean that we have to have gapping holes of neglect. If Christ-centered churches saw themselves as a part of a larger community of churches, then we could all work together to provide the balance that is needed. Then people like me could do more celebrating than criticizing.

Today, God helped me to celebrate the “Evangelical circus.”Similar Posts:

• In Defense of Seeker Churches
• Top Ten Reasons the Evangelical Did Not Cross the Road
• Grace Killer #1: “Biblical” Ways of Doing Church?
• Michael Spencer on the Problems of Evangelicalism
• The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind Sixteen Years Later