Audra and I are watching the TV show “Falling Skies,” and it really hasn’t been too interesting to me until the most recent episode. SPOILER ALERT!!! If you don’t watch the show, it’s about an alien invasion on earth. The overlord aliens are trying to take control of our planet. They are doing this partly by harvesting children, and turning them into an alien slave race (nicknamed “Skitters” by humans) to destroy the rest of humanity. The overlords also utilize powerful mechanical robots to destroy our civilization. Basically, the situation is hopeless. But one small regiment of humans is fighting to save and rescue the children, and to take our planet back–dealing blows here and there to the aliens. From week to week, humans are fighting against the odds, and sacrificing greatly. It’s a bleak picture, with little hope at all. But the most recent episode tells about how this regiment finds a pocket of humans who have survived underground, undetected by the invading aliens. They have actually been able to adapt to underground living very well! They grow fresh produce, sleep in comfortable beds, and are even starting to form a new democracy, since the US government has been completely wiped out. To this regiment that has just arrived, it is paradise! Utopia! Unbelievable! Peace at last. Community. Kids are going to school. Adults are working to build this new way of life. It seems perfect. That is, until the regiment tries to encourage these people to not forget about all the devastation and destruction happening on the surface. Children are being removed from their families and transformed into a slave alien race. Cities are being wiped out. Suffering and devastation is everywhere. But this community has invested too much in itself to risk exposure to the aliens by joining in the fight. They want to remain under the radar and continue enjoying their new-found life. Meanwhile, out in the real world, the skies are falling. What a perfect analogy for today’s church. As the late Christian songwriter Keith Green wrote and sang, “The world is sleeping in the dark that the church just can’t fight, cuz it’s asleep in the light.” I am feeling more and more...

In my last post, I looked at the danger of emphasizing works over faith/repentance. You could say this is the fallacy of emphasizing the changing of one’s hands or feet. In this post, I want to look at the danger of emphasizing creeds/doctrines over faith/repentance. You could say this is the fallacy of emphasizing the changing of one’s mouth, or even one’s intellect. Salvation goes deeper than that–it is the changing of one’s heart. Until I started attending a United Methodist church, creeds were largely irrelevant to me, as my “branch” of Christianity hardly ever made mention of them. Some of the more liturgical branches of Christianity, however, emphasize them quite a bit. In my neck of the woods, instead of creeds being emphasized, certain doctrines were more emphasized. I see little difference between the concepts of creeds and doctrines. I will focus mainly on doctrine in this post, but I think much of this post also applies to creeds. Since I grew up “evangelical,” and still am content to be labeled as such, out of all the doctrines of the Christian faith, there is one doctrine that is primary for me: the doctrine of the Gospel (or salvation). With few exceptions, I generally am ok with disagreements on other doctrines, as long as we can agree on the Gospel. Here’s a brief definition of the Gospel for the purposes of this post: Everyone is a sinner and as a result no one deserves heaven. No one has any hope, outside of God offering forgiveness of sins. Because God is holy and just, He cannot forgive sin unless the penalty for sin is first dealt with. If He deals with us according to our sins, we are destroyed, and forgiveness is irrelevant at that point. God sent His perfect Son Jesus to die as a sacrifice for our sins, so that the penalty of sin would be carried out on Him instead of the rest of humanity. Jesus defeated the curse of sin, and the proof is His rising from the dead. God offers forgiveness of sins and restoration of relationship with Him to those who repent of (change their mind about) their disobedience to God and put their...

As many people may be well aware, there has always been a tension between faith and works. Is one saved simply by believing in Jesus and repenting of their sins? Or are good works necessary for salvation? Should one be emphasized more than the other? My view can be summed up in a few sentences: True faith and repentance will naturally produce works. Therefore, anyone who claims to have put their faith in Jesus and repented of their sins ought to demonstrate such fruit. If they don’t, their claim of conversion/repentance is suspect at best. Yet, it is possible to do such “good works” without putting one’s faith in Jesus or repenting. Therefore, in the end, the emphasis for salvation should NOT be on works, but on faith and repentance. A few further thoughts/implications in regards to this theory: While it is true that true faith/repentance should produce fruit (and LOTS of it), and if fruit isn’t being produced, one’s conversion/repentance is suspect, we must also be careful not to become picky “fruit inspectors.” Jesus did say that we will know a tree by its fruit, but it’s not our job to determine someone’s salvation based on how much fruit he/she is or isn’t producing. If we have reason for concern over someone’s salvation because we don’t see what we think is adequate fruit to demonstrate such conversion, the best thing we can do is pray. In addition, we must also act based on our convictions. If someone’s life isn’t adding up to what we would expect in a converted life, we must be careful to entrust responsibility or leadership to such a person. It is very likely that the person hasn’t been converted. At best, they are very inconsistent, and not trustworthy. If they are confronted by church leadership on issues where they need to repent, and they refuse to do so, they should be treated as one who has yet to be converted (regardless of whether they have been truly converted or not), according to Scripture. It also seems to me that we can too easily become fixated on fruit. Becoming picky fruit inspectors is one example of such preoccupation. Another example is the emphasis on fruit...

Recently, I have been really appreciating the times that I’ve had the opportunity to pray with various people in our church. So curiously…Outside of salvation through Jesus, can anyone think of anything more beneficial to have in one’s life other than a good group of people who pray with you regularly? I’m having a hard time thinking of anything. Perhaps owning a Bible? Anything...

Have you ever had this thought, “How could the Israelites grumble against God after they saw Him part the Red Sea?” Or, “Why was Elijah fearing for his life after he witnessed God pour down fire from heaven at his command?” There is something inside of us that is convinced that if we just experience some kind of amazing experience with God, that it would really change our life. However, I don’t think that’s the case. I don’t think experience sticks with us like we’d like to think! Even if it’s a genuine God-moment. When I went on a few missions trips to Mexico, I had some profound experiences. How long did that last? I’ve had several unique experiences while in God’s presence, and how long did the effects of those last? I’m thinking that while experience can be profound while it is happening, its significance quickly wears off in our heads, given enough time. Even some of the deepest feelings fade away: When a close loved one passes away, we find that over time, our feelings aren’t so strong, and we even try to muster up those old feelings, afraid that we are loving them less if we don’t feel the same way about them now as we did then. I grew up in a Pentecostal denomination that highly valued special experiences with God. I don’t want to take away from the value of experience, but I’m not sure it really has a lot of long-term effect. In order for experience to be powerful, it must be a day-to-day thing. How long really can I live on yesterday’s experience with God? You can’t make God “show up” supernaturally everyday. If we are looking for some kind of spiritual thrill each time we open our Bible or pray, we will quickly give up. That doesn’t happen all-too-often. (At least for me.) It seems to me that the person who is always looking to experience God is someone who is reluctant to walk by faith. Walking by faith can indeed be a challenge, but perhaps it is more sustainable for the long haul? Perhaps if you walk by faith, you are more surprised as you look back on life–you see...

I read an article in Sports Illustrated a few months back about Michael Jordan’s coach in high school who supposedly cut him from the basketball team. I learned from the article that Michael Jordan basically kept a chip on his shoulder about the whole ordeal, resenting his coach and the player who beat him out. Of course, I’d say that harboring such destructive feelings is wrong and should be resolved for the health of the individual holding in those negative feelings. Yet the argument can be made that the reason why Michael Jordan was so good at his sport is because he kept those feelings at the forefront of his mind, giving him that extra edge to out-perform everyone, and achieving more than he would have if he had let it go. Is it fair to say that bitterness actually helped Michael Jordan become a better player? I’ve heard it said before that the great geniuses/successes in life are anything but balanced on the inside. While the rest of us are trying to attain some level of inner nirvana, it seems that many great writers, thinkers, musicians, actors–apparently even athletes, actually feed on imbalance, hurt, rejection, pain, and don’t worry about healing. Do you think this is unhealthy? Yet how is it that such great books, poetry, music, performances come seemingly from such unhealthiness? Would Michael Jordan have been the greatest basketball player of all time (IMO) if he had handled his feelings of rejection in a healthy...

I’ve heard it said that one of the gifts of marriage is that it makes you into a better person (iron sharpens iron, etc.). I think this is true of being a pastor as well. Part of the job of a pastor is to think of other people more than yourself, which is the call of every Christian, of course. I think it’s a little more “obligatory” when you’re a pastor, though. I think that’s a good thing–it is helping me become more of that kind of person (slowly, over time). A few days ago, as I was driving down the interstate, I had an interesting thought: What if that’s the real reason God has made me a pastor? Not so much for other people’s benefit, but for my own. That’s a little uncomfortable for me to think about, since I see my “job” as being there for other people. But what if there’s a bigger reason for me being a pastor? Well, is there really any reason to be a pastor that is more important than helping others draw near to Christ? At first, I would say no. But what if the bigger reason isn’t for other people, but for me? Does that sound selfish or self-indulgent? On one level, it does. But on another level, maybe not. The Apostle Paul seemed to indicate his own walk with the Lord was just as, or even more, important than helping other people in their walk with the Lord. What use is it, he asks, if he helps others qualify for the prize, but he himself becomes disqualified? What if the reason why God made me a pastor is more than just helping people in my congregation know God, more than helping to establish a strong vibrant church in our community, even more than seeing this community come to know Christ? What if, just like marriage, God has placed this calling on me in order to mold me into something/someone that He wants me to be for all eternity? Is there something specific God has for me in eternity that He is preparing me for while I am here on earth? I mean…What if no one in my church ever...