David was anointed king at a young age, yet it's believed that he wasn't appointed king of Israel for another 20-25 years. The time between his calling and consummation of that calling was filled with incredible highs and lows - from defeating Goliath with a sling to hiding out in a cave from Saul Dane his men, hoping for save himself from certain death. How interesting - and if we're honest, how often frustrating - that God's calling and God's timing do not always coincide. Maybe, like myself, you are living in the tension between God's calling and His timing. Maybe you are boiling over with passions and desires to live out your calling in specific ways, but God hasn't yet opened a door for those things to be used. It is in these seasons of seeming fruitlessness that we are prone to even question our callings, our giftings and our passions. And when we don't question them, we try and create opportunities for ourselves that simply aren't what God has called us to in this season. Most likely, pruning is taking place - the Father is cutting back the branches - even fruitful ones - to produce a greater fruitfulness in the long run. If we surrender to His work, knowing He is the one who produces the fruit in all He does in us, we'll see in time that our vain attempts to force His timing for our calling are nothing compared to the fruitfulness He has produced within us. These days, I feel like David in the desert - living in the painful and often difficult tension between calling and timing. But if Scripture is any indication, God allows the gaps between our calling and His timing precisely because He is developing the character that will anchor that calling. It was in the desert that David wrote some of his most anguished, heartfelt psalms. Could the same be for us? After all, our calling is only as strong as our character. My prayer is to embrace the desert of dependence, knowing that God is making me ready for His calling in His timing with His character.

Beginning Wednesday, millions of Christians across the world will participate in Lent, a season of fasting and prayer leading up to the celebration of Christ's resurrection at Easter. Growing up Baptist, I never participated in Lent, not knowing it even existed until college. In evangelical circles, Lenten participation typically has focused on giving up something you love (coffee, TV, chocolate, etc.) for the purpose of... well, to focus on Jesus. Since then, I've made a few half-hearted attempts to participate, but none of them have been effective or transformative whatsoever. Why?

There's a right and wrong way to participate in Lent. If this season is simply a period where we self-righteously give up something up to feel more religious and 'sacrificial,' then Lent is almost completely useless to our walk with Christ. No offense to those who participate in this way, but in many ways it can further distract us from Jesus by simply doing something 'for' Him.

So how can we faithfully participate in Lent without it being useless? Lent offers us an opportunity to clearly recongize those things in our life that rob our affections away from Jesus Christ. It puts on display the idols (good things we've turned into 'god' things) that take us away from intimacy with the Lord. And so leading to Easter, we give up what we know has taken our attentions away from fully pursuing Christ. Instead of a self-righteous religious activity done 'for' God, it is a holy pursuit of His character and will from what He has already done for us. 

My Lent: Social Media Sacrifice
So how am I participating? I feel the Lord wanting me to give up all forms of social media (Facebook, Twitter, Blog) for this season. To be honest, I spent far too much time with these distractions at my fingertips, and it robs me of time and energy I need to be investing in my relationship with God, my family, and my friends. In addition, it will force me to invest in the real-life relationships that God has actually put in in my life.

I look forward to what God is going to do in this season moving forward. I already suspect that much will be gained and learned in this pursuit, and you can be sure I'll be back after Easter telling you all about it! :)

Until then, I pray this season of Lent - if you choose to participate - is one that stirs your affections for Jesus Christ, drawing your hearts away from aimless pursuits and into the beauty of His kingdom. 

Last night our little community gathering finished a 10 week study of the book of Ephesians, and we closed out by discussing the "Whole Armor of God" in Ephesians 6:10-20. This is a very familiar passage in Christian circles in regards to our strategy and opponent in spiritual warfare. Paul, the writer of Ephesians, spent a lot of time in prison under the authority of the Romans, so he'd seen and spoken to his fair share of Roman soldiers. In Ephesians 6, Paul uses this metaphor to describe how God equips us for spiritual battle. Read with me:

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.
Ephesians 6:10-20 ESV

Growing up in church, I was familiar with the flannelgraph pictures of this passage hanging on the walls of my Sunday school room. As a kid, anytime anyone offers you a sword - whether spiritual or physical - you jump at the chance. Naturally, I loved this passage. And like many kids my age, I was taught that in order to be successful in battle against our enemy (Satan) I had to learn to put on this armor and be ready to fight.

But as we often do, the lenses of our particular cultural background provide for us a few blindspots that the Holy Spirit gradually removes as we seek God in His Word. As we studied this passage last night, two monumental things stood out to me as a great encouragement in my own battles against the Father of lies, the Enemy. 

 - God is the Equipper - Not Us. Too much time and energy is spent striving to find more faith, know "enough" about God's Word, and getting our armor in place; when in reality, it is our King - Jesus - who provides everything we need for battle. It is not my responsibility to find the best armor I can - it's my job to put it on and be ready. Reading this passage from the lens of religion would have us constantly striving for bigger and better armor for the battle. Is this false religious pursuit not tiring? What a relief that the God who calls me is also the God who equips me.

 - We Are Equipped to Fight Together - Not Alone. If you've ever seen the movie 300, you know of the iconic battle scenes of the soldiers marching side by side towards the enemy. (Yes, I know they weren't Romans, nerds. They're Spartans.) They did not operate as a collection of individuals, but rather one unified army. From what little I know about Roman army tactics, their fighting style was in many ways similar. 

In the same way, reading this passage through our limited, individualistic lenses gives us the false sense that we are equipped and sent out on our own. But the opposite is true. Like the armies of old, we're equipped to protect ourselves and protect one another. We are fighting not just for ourselves, but for the whole army. At times, the tools we are equipped with are intended to stand in the gap in someone else's battle. At other times, will we be assisted and served through the Sword of the Spirit in the hands of one of our fellow soldiers. All in all, we are equipped to stand together, fighting as one. We were never meant to fight alone. 

Remember, our battle is not against any person, group, or institution. We fight the Enemy and His demons, the invisible force of evil working to undermine the kingdom of God. And while there are many battles, we fight knowing the War is already won. The Battle was won on the Cross of Jesus, once and for all. So we fight not for our victory, but from His victory. 

So what do we do? We pray "at all times." This is how God equips us for battle. Let us not be ignorant of the fact that we are born into a invisible war. It is a war for the affections of our hearts. As a soldier, do not find yourself alone on the battlefield. Fight together. Fight as one. Walk with your Christian brothers and sisters in battle, committed to fight with them and for them in the power of Christ. 

Find peace amid the flaming onslaught of arrows from the Enemy in this promise: "The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still (Exodus 14:14).”  

The battle belongs to Him. Fight knowing this. But fight together, not alone. The God who called you into battle is also the one who has equipped you to fight from the Victory He has already won.

Last night my wife and I watched gleefully as our baby boy ate his first meal with a spoon. At going on five months, we can't keep up with the ways he is growing up before our eyes. Clothes that fit two weeks ago are far too small. The way he hears our voices and sees our faces and responds with a smile and squeal - it melts our hearts. Just seeing pictures of him only a few months ago make us wonder what happened to the little infant baby we brought home this past September.

 

But this season of growth isn't all smiles and giggles. Little baby teeth are beginning to slowly - and painfully - move into our little boy's mouth. He doesn't sleep as well, eat as well, and he tries to gnaw on anything within his reach. For all the joys of his growth, Erica and I are starting to see how painful it will be - both for him and us.

It got me thinking about my own journey of growing in Christ. When I look back on the 17 years since God saved me, I am equally amazed and deeply frustrated. I see seasons of prolonged disobedience. I see short spurts of "try-harder" living that led to nowhere. I see blazing moments of God breaking into my dullness and moving me. All the while, somehow, He's done (and is doing) a great work in me for His glory. 

And if I'm honest, it has not come without pain. In fact, the seasons of the most excellerated growth in my life have more often than not been the most painful. This is my experience right now - God is leading me through a painful season, but He is doing more in these last few months than I can even fathom, making me more like Him. It's obvious to me. Growth is painful, and that's a good thing.

So why are more people growing in our walk with Christ? Why are 3,000 churches closing their door every year? I recently heard a pastor boldly tell his congregation, that in all likelihood, the auditorium they were sitting in was filled with far more babies than they were caring for in the nursery. His point? The Church is full of full-grown spiritual infants who can neither feed themselves nor care for others. 

Paul speaks of it in 1 Corinthians like this:

“But I, brothers, could not address you as spiritual people, but as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it. And even now you are not yet ready…” 1 Corinthians 3:1-2

If, at the age 28, it is a milestone for me to eat from a spoon, we have serious issues to deal with. Something in the developmental process is amiss. Something needs to change. What is it?

I would argue that what prevents most of us from spiritual growth is our stubborn avoidence of the necessary pain of growing spiritual growth. Let's face it - growth is inconvenient. In order to change our future, we must must be willing to disrupt the comfortable patterns of our present. And when we run from the painful realities of growing in Christ -  that break us from the insulation of our own sinful habits - we simply do not grow. 

The Bible makes this clear in many places, most notably in Romans 5:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5:1-5

What does this passagee teach us about how we grow in Christ?

Growth is painful. We can rejoice in the painful suffering of our lives - big and small - knowing that it is the fertile ground from which God grows us up in Him. 

Growth is gradual. When we joyfully embrace the painful, present sufferings, God produces within us endurance for the long haul. Like a tree, we won't grow rapidly over night. Theologians call this progressive sanctification - a fancy way of saying that as we walk with Christ over time, the Holy Spirit progressively transforms us to be more like Him in obedience and worship. In the words of Eugene Peterson, it is a long obedience in the same direction. 

Growth is holistic. Growing in Christ doesn't just affect certain aspects of our lives - it transforms our entire character. It changes our habits, our thoughts, our motivations, and our vision for life. Our character is one of hope, not cynicism, because we know that there is nothing that is beyond the reach of the Gospel, either within us or in the world around us.

Growth is Gospel. We simply will not move beyond the Gospel to a 'deeper' or more advanced version of Christianity. The Gospel is both the milk and the meat of spiritual growth. The reality of what God has done on our behalf in Christ is both the sweet milk of our spiritual infancy and the heart meat of our maturing walk with Him. We are mistaken to think that 'meat' is found in going seminary, learning more, or doing more to be a better Christian. All are good things, but they are the fruit of continually experiencing the Gospel of Jesus afresh, again and again, as we grow in Him. 

At 28 years old, I have never been more aware of my sin, but thanks be to God, He is giving me a clearer vision of His Gospel than I have ever known. Growth hurts. It is slow. It's often frustrating. But when we embracing the pain, we will continually be transformed into mature, loving followers of Christ. 

May the mundane, frustrating, and often painful realities of our lives be the fertile ground from which God grows us to be more and more like Him.

 

 

 I'm about to tell you something that may change the way you see the Church forever. I would prefer you sit down and take in the gravity of this statement.

Christians disagree.

In fact, they do so on a regular basis. So much in fact, that some on the fringes of the conversation opening wonder if the Church has lost it's way in the midst of such consistent conflict. When it comes to Christians in the digital age, our overwhelming ability to access knowledge has given us an ever widening scope of thought regarding Christian theology and practice. Two of the most prominant figures in this era of change are two young(er) pastors both ironically leading churches called Mars Hill Church - Mark Driscoll and Rob Bell.

Both of these men played prominent roles in my theological journey. As I began college in 2001, the more tech savvy churches across the country began offering podcasts on iTunes. Two of the first were Driscoll and Bell from their respective churches. Armed with my new iPod (such a huge deal back then), I devoured all the theological teaching I could in a pursuit to grow in my walk with Christ. 

I was immediately taken by Rob Bell's creative-yet-intellectual approach to preaching. His insights in terms of the Jewish background of the Scriptures was of great benefit to the expansion of my understanding the Bible outside of 'American' Christian thought. He forced me to see the Scriptures in a brand new light, bringing on several "wow-I-never-thought-about-this-that-way" moments. 

On the other hand, I was drawn to Driscoll's straight-forward, no frills Bible teaching. He often spoke of subjects that normal churches avoided simply by preaching through the text in a clear way. I particularly enjoyed (and needed) his stern challenge to young men to grow up, stop extending my adolescence, and move toward being the godly husband and father I was called to be in my future.

But during those college years, something peculiar began to happen as I listened to these sermons. In listening to both men, I felt a "wait-a-minute" check by the Holy Spirit in response to some of their teaching. In the case of Bell, I remember it clearly - I was listening to a sermon he was giving on hell in the "Jesus Wants to Save Christians" series while sitting in my car outside my dorm. He did not come out and say what he has since said in "Love Wins" (this was several years prior), but I sensed that what He was saying wasn't in line with the Scriptures.

I had learned a great deal from Bell, and had grown spiritually from his teachings, yet the Holy Spirit gave me a clear "this-isn't-right" feeling in my heart. And to be honest, it broke my heart.

The same sort of thing happened with Driscoll, although I don't remember it as clearly. Something he said (probably a harsh, controversial statement) made me stop and listen to the caution of the Holy Spirit in recieving his teaching. That moment too, was heartbreaking.

In the decade since, both Bell and Driscoll have grown in notoriety and controversy. Bell famously published "Love Wins," which laid bare his leanings towards Christian universalism. After that, he left for Hollywood to make TV shows. And Driscoll? There isn't much he's said that hasn't brought on some form of controversy.

Whatever the case, the Holy Spirit has continued to offer me moments of discernment as I've grown in Christ. Nowadays, I rarely listen to either one. I never listened to much of anything by Rob Bell since that day. I personally find his recently expressed beliefs to be unbiblical and misleading. While I theologically would lean more towards Driscoll, I have plenty of disagreements with some of his implications of those beliefs that I find a bit too rigid and harsh. 

But some - many in fact - have moved beyond disagreeing into demonizing. They consistently seek out ways to make overreaching statements that move beyond criticism into downright uncivil meanness. I've seen it in both cases, against Bell and Driscoll. Some bloggers spend incredible amounts of words continuing the cycle of demonizing every little word and action they take. The same can be said for various other preachers and Christian leaders. 

So what's the answer? Stop arguing and just let it all go, moving on to our own camps? No! Why? Because theology matters immensely. Eternally. And it is worth the conversation, the dialogue, and the occasional conflict because what we believe affects not only this life, but the next. 

Here's the deal. Some of you reading this strongly dislike Driscoll. I mean a lot of you really don't like him. The same goes for Bell, although the stream of snarky criticism has died down and turned more towards Driscoll. But for the sake of the Church and our witness to the world, we have to learn how to disagree well - expressing our differences without demonizing and constantly criticizing those whose belief what is different than us. If in debating our theology we actually begin to look less like Jesus, there's a huge problem. And it's time to fix it. 

Christians, when you encounter different beliefs, don't move so quickly to demonize those who are opposing yours. Take a moment to slide on your 'pet-issue' high horse. Instead, practice discernment. Open your Bible, listen to the Holy Spirit, and talk about it with other believers in your Church. The Spirit of God will lead you to truth in Christ through the Word of God.

It is abundantly clear in the New Testament that discerning between false teaching and right doctrine is of incredible importance. Paul and the other New Testament writers make the confrontation of dangerous and false teaching one of the most common issues throughout their writing. Discernment in these issues is a sign of maturity. Expressing what you have discerned from Scripture in a harsh and hateful way, however, is not. Plain and simple. 

We are free to disagree. Let's just do it in a way that gives glory to Jesus. 

But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. Hebrews 5:14

 

The first verse I ever remember memorizing as a child growing up in church was Philippians 4:13. The walls of our tiny little Sunday School room in the corner of the church basement were covered in colorful biblical heroes, who faced and overcame obstacles through their faith. And funny enough, our Sunday School teacher told us we could to.

As I grew older and became a believer, the presence of Philippians 4:13 seemed to pop up everywhere. In particular, some of the famous athletes I idolized commonly refered to the verse on the back of their sneakers and on their clothing. In the Christian bookstores, coffee mugs, t-shirts, and wall art took this verse and made it into a beautifully scripted font floating under the wings of a soaring eagle. 

"I can do all things through him who strengthens me."

In a certain light, it is the perfect verse for the American Dream. The first 4 words, "I can do anything," gave the impression that nothing is impossible for the good little boy or girl who sets their mind to it. And so we play sports, take tests, and set goals knowing that as a Christian, we can accomplish whatever we put our minds to. 

That's what I believed. But not anymore.

Don't get me wrong - I don't believe less than I should in this statement now. In fact, I believe more in it. Like so many verses in the Bible, we've conveniently plucked it out of its context and moved it to wherever we like it. Coffee cups, clothing, bumper stickers, pens - anything we could think of. Are these items wrong? Of course not. But what is intended as an encouragement often sells short the deeper hope found in the passage itself. Let me explain.

As I became an adult, something peculiar started happening. As much as I believed that I could do anything through the power of Christ, things often didn't didn't go as planned. I lost games. Friendships were broken. I experienced pain and failure in various aspects of my life. So what gives? I thought I could do all things through Christ - in my understanding - that my believe was the seal of my success.

But as it turns out, my skewed understanding of this verse (like much of Christianity in America, I'd venture to say) had me believing more in my faith in Christ than in Christ Himself. I was making myself the hero of my own story. God was more of a personal assistant, helping me out on my way to accomplishing whatever I wanted in life. 

But longer you live, the more you learn that life doesn't work that way. And that's good news.

Look at the context of this verse in Philippians 4:

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I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. Philippians 4:10-13

When you look at the life of Paul, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone with more faith. And yet Paul, for all of his incredible acts of serving Christ, didn't always walk the easy road. He was shipwrecked, beaten, stoned, and left for dead. He was rejected, spent long seasons in prison, and suffered from a thorn in his flesh that stayed with him until death - which, by the way, was by beheading. Could not Paul do all things in Christ? What gives?

This is because Philippians 4:13 is not a promise of unhindered success, but supernatural contentment. This is contentment that meets us in winning and losing. In laughter and tears. In suffering and satisfaction. In every situation, having much or little. Paul isn't talking about a faith for winners, but the glorious realization in every circumstance that is the very core of our faith:

Jesus is enough.

He is enough in my health. He is enough in my cancer.

He is enough in my job. He is enough in my unemployment.

He is enough in my past. My present. My future.

I can do all things because Jesus is enough in every circumstance, and I can be content no matter what. This truth - this very foundation of the Gospel itself - is what strengthens and sustains our contentment. 

The older I get, the more I realize that the road ahead will often be a battle. And when you and I reach death, we'll do so either clinging to whatever false securities and coping mechanisms have pushed us to our ends - or we'll fall at the feet of Jesus, tattered and scarred, grateful to finally see He who has sustained our contentment through every battle.

So now, as I read Philippians 4:13, I don't believe in less, but more. I can do all things through Christ, because wherever He leads - to victory, pain, trial, sickness, death, joy -  He is enough to sustain me, no matter my circumstances. And that's way better than what I thought I believed.

Image credit

How do you find a church home?

Up until this past September, I have been leading in some form of part time or full time ministry for almost ten years. For the first time in my entire life, I'm on the outside looking in, seeking God's wisdom as to where my family needs to connect. The entire process has been eye-opening, giving me a greater understanding of the typical American's reasoning for finding and connecting to a local congregation. I've seen in myself the same distorted mindset that I believe keeps countless people from being a vital part of the local church. Let me explain.

As an American, the mindset of consumerism has silently seeped into so much of our thinking that it has become second nature to view everything we do through it's jaded lense. I believe the core question of consumerism is this: what can you offer me that's better than the alternative? Any good capitalist will tell you that competition is perhaps the greatest driving force behind a healthy economy. So when we go looking for a church to connect to, we bring the very same mentality: what does this church have to offer me that's better than the one down the street? 

Or better yet, perhaps this question is more realistic to our culture: what do you have to convince me that I shouldn't just stay home in my pajamas all day?

Even having spent the last seven years of my life as a pastor in the church (all the while denouncing the forces of consumerism), I found myself sinking right back into this mentality as we looked for a new church home. Almost immediately, the critical consumerist began rearing it's ugly head at every stop along the way.

This place is kind of small. 

The worship is underwhelming.

The preaching is too fluffy. Not enough Bible.

Their kids stuff seems iffy.

No matter where I was - even though I 'know' better - I was seeing the church as a consumer: what can you do for me? I love the church. I believe in the church. I plan on spending the rest of my life serving the church. But even still, my reasoning in find a church was entirely driven by self-centered consumerism. 

So how do we respond? What I've seen most often is a self-serving cynicism that's disguised as idealism. What do I mean? We are convinced that we know what the church should be, and as a result, it prevents us from loving and serving the church that is. As Bonhoeffer so rightly states in his book "Life Together," we are more in love with our idea of the the church than we are the church itself. The result?

Some of us are serial church daters. We spend a little bit of time at a lot of churches until the one thing that offends our consumer mindset pushes us to the next one. Others of us go when our idealism permits, but usually choose staying away to feed our continued disallusionment. Me? During my time searching, I've been tempted to live in both realities.

So what's the alternative?

I believe being a part of a local church community is not only a command in Scripture (Hebrews 10:24-25), but that the Christian life is almost impossible without it. So how do we reconcile this reality with our consumeristic leanings when we look for a church? 

Well, it turns out that the Bible has a lot to say about the fact that the church does not exist for us, but rather we exist for the church. Our gifts, our resources, and our service are meant to build up the Body, not the other way around. So when we look for a church, we don't look for what it gives us, but rather how we can humbly serve this local community. The implications?

God is more than likely calling us all to a church that does not meet our expectations. He is calling us to a church that is far from perfect. He is calling us to a church that will let us down - sometimes over and over again.

Why? Church is a spiritual discipline, not a shopping trip. Ultimately it is not about us, but about the advancement of the kingdom of God.

So how do we find and connect to a local church? Prayerfully and obediently, asking God, "Where would it best serve You - not me - for me to connect and serve?" The kingdom is advanced when the cushy seats of churches filled with consumer-minded Christians wake up to their call to serve His Body, not attend their preference.

So very soon, Erica and I will officially be connecting to a local church. It will not meet my expectations. It will sometimes let me down. But it will be the place God has called us to. And in the process, the Holy Spirit will change my consumeristic heart to love the church as it is, not as I think it should be.

May He do the same for us all.

I like Tim Tebow. It's hard not to. He's a clean-cut, polite Christian athlete in an age of off-the-field antics, scandal, and greed. But Tim Tebow is dreadfully over exposed. No athlete has been more discussed, scrutinized, and debated over the past year than Tebow. His cultural inflence and notoriety has grown despite his average, uneven play overall throughout the season. Most notably, Christians across America have latched onto Tebow's story with a ferocity not seen in a non-political public figure in years. To have such a committed believer under the spotlight of a national audience has rallied millions behind him. 

In a simplistic sense, rightfully so. Tebow vocally gives glory to God -specifically Jesus, which in a growingly universalist-leaning culture, is quite notable. He is not afraid to put his faith on display for millions to see on a weekly basis, win or loss. This too is significant, being that thanking God has typically been reserved for victories in the public square, not defeat. 

But in reality, this isn't really about Tim Tebow. It's about us. However far Tim Tebow leads the Broncos in the playoffs, our responses thus far have been telling of the nature of Christian celebrity in American culture. Our rhetoric has ranged from the deeply cynical and biting to disgusting idol-worship. 

One one hand, some have out-right accused Tebow of being a fake. This is and will become a more prevalent sentiment as we move forward - especially if the blinding light of celebrity catches Tebow in the smallest of mistakes. Americans in general have seen their fair share of hypocrisy among prominent Christians, and see no value in moving another personality onto the cruel pedestal from which so many have fallen. 

On the other hand, many have treated every step of Tebowing meteoric rise as a sign from God, as if Tebow were the very incarnation of God's will. The fishy moralistic deism that pervades American Christian culture, with it's bubbling theology of success and comfort, can easily be slid into Tebow's story as proof God wants Christians - above all else - to always be winning. 

Both hands have dropped the ball. (You like what I did there?)

The cynic who allows the past failures of prominent Christians to write off Tebow ultimately miss the fact that God, at certain times in history, uses people of prominence for His purpose and glory. What the cynic reveals in his unnecessary demeaning of Tebow is that he really believes that God can only use people that look and act like he/she thinks they should. But in reality, they will learn over time that God uses people vastly different from their own preference. In the end, the cynic actually has the most narrow mind (and faith) of all.

And the Tebow idolizers? Tim Tebow, like you and me, will fail. He will lose. If our theology and understanding God is rooted in our success, we do not understand the God of the Bible. What if, in His sovereign will, God could use our losses to display His character and purposes in the world more than our wins? Would we still choose to follow? Worldly success is neither a definitive sign of spiritual maturity or God's favor. All three can certainly be found together, but they are not one in the same, nor the result of our good works before God. 

The good news is that that we do not believe in a gospel of success, but a gospel of grace. In Christ we are called to be faithful, not successful. Success and failure will come and go, but what will ultimately matter is our faith in the One who has already won the only Victory that matters. Because of that Victory we are loved in wins in losses, in celebrity and anonymity. We are not bound to the vain approval of the crowds, but the unshakable love and hope of our Father.

Chances are you won't have the kind of platform Tim Tebow has, but thankfully we can be faithful right where we are. Here's the good news - Tim Tebow, even with his national platform, has no more opportunity to impact the kingdom of God than you do. Our impact is never measured by our notoriety. In fact, you more than likely can have more of an impact outside of the spotlight. 

So let's not pray for Tim Tebow to be successful as much as for him to be faithful where God has him. Take him off the pedastal. Rejoice that win or lose, we are not bound by our success or failure, but by His love that transcends celebrity, freeing us to be faithful right where we are - spotlight or not.

 

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, 
   because the LORD has anointed me 
   to proclaim good news to the poor. 
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, 
   to proclaim freedom for the captives 
   and release from darkness for the prisoners,
 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor 
   and the day of vengeance of our God, 
to comfort all who mourn, 
  and provide for those who grieve in Zion— 
to bestow on them a crown of beauty 
   instead of ashes, 
the oil of joy 
   instead of mourning, 
and a garment of praise 
   instead of a spirit of despair. 
They will be called oaks of righteousness, 
   a planting of the LORD 
   for the display of his splendor.

Isaiah 61:1-3

 In Luke 4, Jesus picks up a scroll in a synagogue, turns to this passage, and politely tells everyone that He is, in fact, the fulfillment of these very words. Then He sits down. They are none to pleased (Luke 4:14-30). It's a bold move, obviously, to begin your ministry saying you are the fulfillment of anything. But in front of the hometown crowd, he puts it right out there and, in essence, makes this passage a summation of his mission on earth. Does it totally encompass his purposes? No. But it gives a clear picture of what He will be about as He begins His ministry.

There's a ton to be said about this passage both theologically and historically, but as I read it, I wanted to zoom out to something that really captures my heart tonight. There are a lot of 'sad' words in these verses. Look - poor, brokenhearted, captives, prisoners, mourn/mourning, grieve, despair. Jesus centers His mission around those who don't have it all together. The broken. Those imprisoned within the world and within themselves. Those who despair of their very lives. These are the people Jesus came for. Like me.

I'll be really honest - I've had a hard couple of months. I won't go into a lot of detail, but nothing about my life right now is what I expected for myself. Nothing is the same as it was. Am I in deep pits of despair? No. I'm generally a really easy-going guy, so I'm not given much to meloncholy. In fact, there's much about this season that has been incredibly joyous - a new son, spending 8 weeks with my wife off work, and time to rest and clear my head. 

But this would certainly be described as a valley for me. I've had to take a long, hard look at myself, where I'm at, what I'm called to do, and how I'm not where I need to be in many ways. I've seen my idols more clearly exposed in these months than ever before. God has offered a painful mercy in opening my eyes to my sin and rebellion like never before. So much change and transition and tension between what is and what will be has, in many ways, broken my heart. Nothing feels like home anymore.

And to even share this is, well, new to me. Even though I know better, it's hard to break the need to put on a face of having it all together. If you're like me, you were brought up in a Christian culture that rewarded conformity, moralism, and various forms of legalism. It was a 'fake-it-till-you-make-it" Christianity. And it's demonic. It's the opposite of the Gospel. It's the very thing that undermines much of our growth in Christ.

So let this be my coming-out party - I am a broken, messed up, self-centered, insecure man in desperate need of Jesus. Now more than ever. My heart is an idol factory. I too often seek the approval of man before the approval of God (which I already have). I am a broken husband. I am a broken father. I am a broken friend. I am a broken son. I am a broken (currently unemployed) pastor. 

But here's the crazy part.

This is good news. In fact, it's the heart of the Good News.

Because the Gospel is this: I am more sinful and broken than I are dared to imagine, yet through Jesus, I am more loved and accepted than I ever dared to imagine. I don't have it all together, and I can say that because I believe that Jesus does on my behalf. And it's the only thing that can change me - and you. Here's the honest truth:

Trying harder won't work.

Behavioral modification won't work.

Self-help won't work.

The bottom line is this: we grow and change and are transformed by giving up the facade of religious merit and experiencing the love and acceptance we have in Christ. We live from His love, not for His love.

All this to say, I find joy in this season of brokenness because it is continuing to push me to run away from myself and toward Jesus. I don't have it all together, and from the looks of Isaiah 61, I'm exactly the kind of person Jesus came for. This is why they call it Good News.

As Advent continues, we are grateful that Jesus didn't come for the healthy, but the sick. He came for the broken people like you and me. Embrace your need, and embrace the One who has already met that need in full. Come Lord Jesus.

Here's a song that's really helped me: Listen to Brokenness Aside

featuring the baritone ukulele.