Articles on Theology and Leadership

Tag: Ministry

Crossing Our T’s, Forgetting the Cross

“You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!” (James 2:19)

Mark 1:23–24 and Luke 8:27–28 highlight demons fully understanding Jesus’ divinity and power. Jesus called Peter blessed only to call him Satan shortly thereafter. What changed? Is theologically precise knowledge not the ultimate pursuit of Christians and the focus of the ministry of the church?

In what ways do we carry out church in the name of Jesus while bypassing his death and resurrection? Do we shudder like the demons in understanding, and insightfully answer questions of Jesus’ identity like Peter only to set our minds on the “things” of man (Matthew 16:23)? Have we sidestepped the mission of Jesus in the very name of Jesus? That question should strike a healthy fear of God in the core of our souls as we contemplate it and its implications.

Shuddering belief is vague, disconnected from the atoning work and resurrection of Christ on our behalf. Like Peter, it misses the explicit proclamation of Christ’s death even while recognizing His divinity.

Imagine a church with a textbook understanding of God’s nature and attributes. Their statement of faith or confessions offer a clear articulation of theological orthodoxy. Yet, week in and week out there is no cross talk. The sermon exposits the text, includes historical background, and the practical application is winsomely actionable. But what of salvation? What of Christ crucified? What of the Son of God’s atoning work on the cross for you? This death and resurrection of Christ as the basis of our justification is the glorious, scandalous news that we all too often overlook or undervalue.

Evil as defined by the prophet Jeremiah was twofold: forsaking God, and turning to waterless cisterns (Jeremiah 2:13). John 4:13–14 points us to a well that will never run dry. You cannot preach Christ crucified and resurrected for sinners too much. It is inexhaustible good news. It is perpetually needed in the ears of us works-obsessed intellectuals who dot all the I’s on our theological dissertations but cannot seem to understand the profound necessity of the gospel.

This isn’t to say that correct doctrine is unimportant. We must be vigilant in rightly dividing the word of truth. However, our tireless pursuit of theological precision must not supplant resting in the reality of God’s grace secured in Christ.

Shuddering belief fears and understands God but doesn’t trust the work of Christ to make us right with God. My fellow believers in Jesus, let us not cross all our theological T’s only to forget the cross. To do so is to believe and confess the way that the demons do.

An Intolerable Grace

We can bring ourselves to accept that we need forgiveness, but what about grace extended to our enemies as easily as to us? We elder brother types simply cannot tolerate the later workers in the vineyard earning the same wage. Like Jonah, we know full well that God is gracious and abounding in steadfast love—and that’s precisely why we tend to flee God’s call. I’ve seen this exhibited in three major ways.

Imago Dei My Way

It’s easy to view others who think like we do as those created in God’s image. But what about those who think the opposite of us? What about those who outright oppose our deepest convictions? Are they created in God’s image? The problem is that we like Imago Dei our way and live our lives with compassion only for those who are in our own image. This can even escalate to a theological posture if we’re not careful.

Metapersonal Determinism

You’ve perhaps heard of metaphysical determinism, but I’ve often seen this creep into what I’d like to call metapersonal determinism where those not chosen by God are the ones that don’t line up with our convictions or preferences. The theological issue of predestination and limited atonement in particular will not be settled in a blog post. However, those who take a hard Reformed view on the latter must at a minimum be cautious over how their belief is practically expressed. A combination of determinism and good old-fashioned human hubris can easily lead to a fatalism where all our “enemies” are the ones not chosen. This flies in the face of scripture and, more importantly, the nature of God Himself. Our God desires that all should come to repentance and sends His prophets, preachers, and all disciples out to share the good news with the world.

Pharisaical Blindness

One of the most ironic and absurd moments for the Pharisees—of the many we see recorded in the Gospels—is when they rebuke Jesus’ healing on the Sabbath only to huddle and plot to kill Him on the Sabbath. We can spot the absurd levels of hypocrisy, yet we take that same insane posture every time we judge the speck in our brothers’ eyes while missing the plank in our own. I can easily call out the Pharisees and miss how critical I am of others much less the personal sins that beset my own character and walk each day.

An intolerable grace is a grace that is extended to those I don’t like. The good news is that God’s grace is available even for that level of arrogant, wicked idolatry of self. We can be transformed by God’s grace to see others as those created in His image, as those for whom Christ died, and have the scales fall from our own eyes so that we like Paul can view and share Christ, His Cross, and His Kingdom to the uttermost parts of humanity and the world.

What Does God Need with a Starship?

Star Trek V was always one of my least favorite of the movies. Yet, it included a scene that always stuck out in my memory as Kirk dared to question the being at the center of the universe: “excuse me, what does God need with a starship?” The silliness of an odd numbered Star Trek movie aside, the sentiment resonated in ways outside the movie universe. It was a poignant moment that pointed out the absurdity of an almighty being needing the assistance of a vessel and crew.

Beyond the cinematic sci-fi universe, there are strategies and tools that the church should solemnly and prayerfully reflect upon. Christians would be wise to consider three questions that underscore some of our own absurdities.

What Does God Need with a Fog Machine?

Admittedly, this is an easy target, but it is emblematic of a bigger philosophy. Just because something is shiny and attractive or a congregation has the resources to include a thing, should this be part of our weekly ministry? When does lavishness and excess cross over into vanity or idolatry? Perhaps it has more to do with trust than tools.

What Does God Need with a TikTok?

Does God need influencers? What is the difference between being an influencer and being salt and light in a world of darkness and decay? Is there a difference between being a witness for your church’s brand and being a witness for the gospel of Christ? Being engaged on contemporary platforms isn’t wrong — it’s simply not necessary. God has grown His church through word and sacrament for centuries before radio, television, internet, or social media. Perhaps it has more to do with faithfulness than relevance.

What Does God Need with a Parachurch Organization?

Parachurch organizations have their place within the life of the church but they aren’t nearly as important as many Christians have imagined. Conferences, seminars, books, and podcasts often center on personalities and ministry emphases in ways that can distract from the church’s biblical role. As they take off, they launch their own publishing companies, social media network, or even seminaries. Perhaps it has more to do with providence than platforms.

Three Foundational Questions:

  1. How does this look when viewed through the global filter of reality? When you factor in our brothers and sisters across the seas who meet in huddled corners, it reveals the true necessities of Christian worship. With so many pragmatic and gimmicky trends touted as best ministry practices, we must pause and ask how our brothers and sisters across the world would view them. Would it be necessary? Would it be prudent?
  2. Does this build God’s church God’s way? Are we adding volunteers to our programmatic roles, increasing the number of viewers to our live stream, and expanding our church branding strategy all while the faith of God’s people atrophies and the good news of the kingdom through Christ’s atoning work goes unheralded? Paul highlighted the surpassing glory of the unveiled hope we have in Christ and renounced underhanded, cunning ways of dealing with God’s word (2 Corinthians 3:12-4:6).
  3. Does this make Christ preeminent in all things? Saint Patrick’s famous prayer should double as a grid of discernment for our ministry philosophies and practices. Is “Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, in the eye of everyone who sees me, and in the ear of everyone who hears me?” Christ is preeminent in all things (Colossians 1:15-20), but do our ministry philosophy and practices reflect this reality?

Admittedly, I’ve raised more questions than anything else. I hope it helps each of us feel the outrageous absurdity of how far church culture has drifted from the core of Christianity in its ministry approach. What does God need with a starship, fog machine, TikTok, or parachurch ministry? He unequivocally doesn’t. The church has survived for millennia without these things and continues to thrive in corners of the world without such distractions. The most profound, impactful, and kingdom building aspects of church ministry are not rooted in mankind being clever, innovative, or culturally relevant. We do ministry best when we trust and herald Christ most.

Not My Kingdom

Jesus told Peter to put his sword away, and a short time later said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Jesus taught that childlike faith was a prerequisite for the kingdom of heaven. What is the kingdom of God, and what is it not? What does it mean to build the kingdom? Are we called to build it or bear witness to it? We too often answer these weighty questions with more zeal than wisdom.

Approximately twenty years ago, I listened to a radio show where the hosts and the guest were discussing the kingdom of God. The host observed that the kingdom of God is upside down from this world. The elderly saint guest chimed in with gentle wisdom, saying, “The kingdom of God is right side up; this world is upside down.” It may seem like a semantic difference, but it is profound. God’s kingdom is not of this world, its logic, its power, or its ways. So, how do Christians view and navigate this world while being citizens of another?

Sojourners and Pilgrims

Throughout the Old Testament, the people of God found themselves as exiles. In the New Testament, we see frequent descriptions of God’s people as sojourners and pilgrims who have no lasting city here. Is this an abrogation of our call to discipleship, evangelization, or simply being salt and light? Absolutely not!

Between faith’s definition and its roll call lies the reminder that God’s people have always been exiles.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.  If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.

Hebrews 11:13-16

Salt and Light in Babylon

When commanded to be salt and light in a world of decay and darkness, does that override our status as pilgrims? Jesus’ declaration of our identity follows His blessing of those who are persecuted and reviled in this world, accompanied by the reminder that our reward is great in Heaven (Matthew 5:11-16). Can sojourners also be ambassadors? Peter reminds us of our identity as a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, and a people for his own possession, even as he urges us as sojourners and exiles to live honorably to the glory of God.

How Then Shall We Live?

This is the question we rush to answer while missing a foundational question: how then do we have life? We see this most clearly in the sermon. The pastor often sprints to the practical application aspect of the message to deliver “marching orders” as quickly as the congregation expects them. Our actions flow from our being, yet we try to build the kingdom using the strength of our own hands instead of the power that comes from God. In our rush to “do,” we often default to strategies of worldly success.

Two Faulty Approaches

Building the kingdom of God currently has two prominent yet opposing approaches with the same faulty foundation. The first is building the network and net worth of the church in the name of the kingdom. The second is positioning the church to wield political and cultural power for societal change. One makes the church a corporation, and the other makes it a campaign. Both miss the mark and treat the kingdom like something to be managed or conquered instead of received in childlike dependence. Unfortunately, we’ve seen recent examples.

In the past year, two prominent Southern Baptist pastors have come under scrutiny for their business practices in bringing churches outside the denomination into the denomination, including their assets. Whether you agree or disagree with the criticism, the recurring appeal in each case from the pastors and their supporters was that this was for the “kingdom.” Is building the kingdom synonymous with expanding a megachurch’s satellite campuses and urban footprint? It’s a matter of meaning and motivation, not merely methodology. Is kingdom success defined by institutional reach and branding or by faithfulness to God’s will, word, and ways?

There has been a resurgence of discussion centered on Christian nationalism and theonomy in recent years. We won’t settle the debate here, but suffice it to say that the church still has a role to play in the public square. However, is the kingdom truly built by pastors with flamethrowers (literally!) while doing videos on virtue laced with vitriol? Is kingdom building the same as accruing political power or cultural capital?

Recently, I sat in the pew and observed the pastor and vicar of my church bring communion to our eldest member. She can no longer go up to the front, but heaven came down and met her with forgiveness and peace through the body and blood of Christ. In that moment, it occurred to me that what I had just witnessed had more to do with kingdom growth than launching a church plant 30 miles away in a city that also has hundreds of churches or ripping the culture a new one on a vlog. What do evangelical corporatism and Christian nationalism have in common? They make us soldiers instead of sojourners, politicians instead of pilgrims, and confuse earthly power in the name of God with the power of God.

I imagine Jesus would look at our church brand expansion and political power plans and echo what he said to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” The right-side-up kingdom is where bread and wine deliver forgiveness, exiles testify to God’s glory and grace through the humility of their obedience, and, most importantly, sinners and saints alike are redeemed through Christ’s death and resurrection.

The right-side-up kingdom doesn’t need branding campaigns, multi-site demographic studies, or political savvy. It transforms lives through the potent simplicity of word, water, bread, and wine. Let us look to the future then as “ambassador exiles” not armed with worldly wit, but empowered by the wisdom of God. The kingdom comes not through force or fame, but through foolishness: the foolishness of the cross (1 Corinthians 1:18-31).

Three Ways Church Doesn’t Do Anything For Us

“Church just doesn’t do anything for me.” We’ve likely heard it and even felt the sentiment ourselves. There are three ways I’ve heard this expressed, which amounts to a literal, emotional, or spiritual lack. Reflecting on each and considering a paradigm shift can help us understand what the church is meant to be.

When Programs Fail Us

Sunday school, children’s, and music programs might be one of the top deciding factors of where parents will decide to go to church. This is the sense that I’ve heard the sentiment that church doesn’t do anything for us the most as families search for the perfect church to meet their programming “needs.” Yet, our brothers and sisters from centuries past or from gospel-hostile regimes remind us of what the Apostle Paul proclaimed to the Corinthians, For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4).

Emotional Placebos

Sometimes when “church doesn’t do anything for you,” what’s meant is that it doesn’t move you, step on your toes, or inspire you on an emotional level. The missing piece here is a heart connection that moves beyond cerebral or structural concerns. There can be a spectrum here between the desire of an experiential high to wanting a weekly shot of inspiration to keep going. What we fail to realize is that each of these are merely emotional placebos that could never take the place of the supernatural work of God through His promises.

Symbolic Grace

Beyond programs and emotions, there are the promises of God to give grace, strength, peace, and forgiveness His way through His means. When the sacraments are viewed as merely symbolic, the only thing that occurs is a remembrance no matter how solemn it may be. In a merely symbolic view, grace is not imparted, peace is not proclaimed, and sins are not absolved. When none of these things occur, it’s no wonder the “church doesn’t do anything for us.”

A Different Perspective

I’ve gone through all of these mindsets at different stages of my Christian journey. I was focused on programs that met my needs or that met the needs of younger families in the congregation. I was obsessed with church being conducted in such a way that the fire of my passion for God was stoked by the worship service and ministry offerings. However, these days I simply need God’s forgiveness, His grace, and His peace.

The paradigm shift came in understanding that church is not where we go to serve God, it is where He first serves us. We receive God’s forgiveness through confession and absolution, we hear the good news of the gospel proclaimed to reorient our works-obsessed hearts, and we partake of Christ’s body and blood for the forgiveness of sins. We come as sinners, beggars, and recipients within the church walls. Literally, tangibly, and supernaturally empowered by God’s means of grace, we then serve our neighbor through overflowing acts of charity in love outside the church walls.

The Breath Mint Gospel

Imagine walking into a restaurant and specifying to the waiter in no uncertain terms that you were starving and wanted the chef’s best. The waiter goes into great detail about the special of the evening and leaves your mouth watering and your stomach in a state of anticipation. Ten minutes pass, and finally, the domed luxury entree arrives, and the unveiling is set to begin your feast. As the cover is lifted, all you see in the center of the plate is a lone, pitiful after-dinner mint.

How often in our churches do we treat the gospel like that little pastel mint that quickly dissolves and never satisfies? How many sermons drone on and on with theological data only to throw a thirty-second “gospel” bone to starving souls? Recently, I saw a social media post making rounds highlighting the absurdity of saying people couldn’t sit through long sermons when they could listen to three-hour podcasts. There is an ironic truth to that sentiment; however, the real issue is when hour-long sermons only make the gospel a footnote. If we relegate the gospel to an afterthought, we’ve thought wrongly about the gospel.

We might debate whether or not a sermon should be an hour long, but there shouldn’t be a debate regarding whether or not the proclamation of Christ crucified for the forgiveness of sins and sinners in live time should be the main course on any given Sunday.  Sinners starve for the gospel throughout the week in a merit-based world. We sit through sermons that give us information any systematic theology textbook could or that only chastise us with the law’s condemnation. The theological data might be beneficial, and the law’s condemnation is the prerequisite to what is needed: our redemption by faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ alone. If sermons are an hour long, why wouldn’t we make the gospel the core aspect? It’s not as if there is no time.

Neither Jesus, Paul, nor Peter made the gospel an afterthought. Jesus identified the focal point of the prophets, law, and Psalms as Himself, His resurrection, and the forgiveness of sins through repentance (Luke 24:27-47). Paul’s decision to know nothing except Christ and Him crucified in his proclamation in Corinth parallels his robust articulation and ardent defense of the gospel in his letters to Rome and Galatia. Peter affirmed that the living, abiding word of God that lives forever is the good news (1 Peter 1:23-25), much like his sermon at Pentecost (Acts 2:14-41). Other examples of this gospel-emphasis feast abound. Ask yourself if what you hear on a given Sunday serves the good news as the main course or more like a breath mint. 

Our main issue isn’t bad breath. We cannot pop the gospel like a tic-tac and cover up the stench of our fallen nature. We are dead in our trespasses and sins, and we need the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:13-14). The breath mint gospel is an underestimated, misunderstood application of the breathtaking good news of Christ crucified and risen for sinners. 

A Prescription for New Wine

After nearly thirty years as a believer and fifteen in the ministry, this is perhaps the most difficult topic I’ve felt compelled to address. The difficulty comes because of the pharisaism in the first half of my Christian walk and ministry. As one childhood friend put it, “you’re so uptight if you ate coal, you’d get a diamond.” He was right. After a lot of study, ministry, failure, sin, and experience, I’ve come to understand that the gospel is the antithesis to the rigidity and self-righteousness I espoused, and that still haunts the hidden corridors of my heart.

A Prescription from Pharisees

The Pharisees sought the protection of their image and heritage. They were more concerned with the appearance of righteousness than actually possessing it. So, their call was to follow the rules. Wash your hands, abstain from healing on the Sabbath, and by all means, don’t associate with tax collectors and sinners. However, their prescription only addressed the symptoms and failed to understand the underlying cause of dead works.

If I’m honest, I’ve handed out more than my fair share of diagnoses and remedies over the years. More concerned with ensuring everyone toed the line, I was obsessed with behavior modification even if it was for the glory of God. What I misunderstood was that glorifying God involves more than merely doing what God has commanded. Amos 5:18-25Hosea 6:6, and Psalm 51:16-17 reveal that there is a way to offer God precisely what He has commanded that does not please Him. Jesus’ intensification of the law in Matthew 5:17-48 demonstrates the need for a righteousness that exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees.

A Prescription for Pharisees

Jesus’ prescription for the Pharisees was not righteousness, but rather a recognition of their unrighteousness. His prescription was new wine; a wine that would explode the old wineskins of their expectations and religious bureaucracy. When Jesus pronounced forgiveness of sins to the paralytic in Matthew 9, the scribes cried, “blasphemy!” When the Pharisees saw Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners they questioned His disciples. Jesus’ response is a quote from Hosea that should strike us with the same force that it struck them: “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice’” (Matthew 9:13).

Then, John’s disciples approached to inquire about fasting. When Jesus replied, it was clear that something explosively new had come. What need is there for fasting when the incarnation of the entirety of your faith is right in front of you? What the Pharisees needed instead of obedience was to actually understand the very nature of God’s mercy as put on full display in the person of Jesus. That kind of divine mercy transforms one from the inside out and produces vibrant and joyous obedience instead of stale and begrudging obedience.

A Prescription for New Wine

Beware the arrogant, self-righteous ones who care more about you affirming their interpretation of scripture than understanding the gospel in all of its offensive glory. They hand out verses of scripture as if from a prescription pad like they wrote it themselves. Ironically, they miss their sickness and the real healing power of Christ’s atoning work. Like archaic doctors, they still attach leeches to their patients and seem dumbfounded by the resulting death.

The new wine of the gospel doesn’t offer a panacea for all our problems, but it does provide a cure for our most significant problem. Looking to and exclusively trusting Jesus Christ, His perfect life, His atoning death, and His glorious resurrection on our behalf is the sole sufficient remedy for our depravity.

What we need most is not more engaging preaching, more marks of healthy churches, more stringent adherence to our ethics, or more ardent defense of our theological presuppositions. Those prescriptions have been handed out in droves. Instead, we need to herald the unbelievable good news of the Son of God hanging on a tree to satisfy God’s wrath in our place. Once that is done consistently, then the conversation about other prescriptions can begin. After all, what use does a dead man have for wine at all?

Curative Versus Performative Theology

Where does your theology place the emphasis of Christianity? You may have a pristine systematic approach or favor a more simplistic framework emphasizing faith. Either way, we need to consider where the focal point of our theology lies. We default to merit as the basis of our right standing with God, so do we primarily need a cure or a performance evaluation? Is our theology curative or performative?

Curative Theology

Theology is curative when it focuses on Christ outside of us for the forgiveness of our sins. When ministry and forgiveness of sins for sinners intersect, abstraction gives way to absolution. We are absolved and empowered as the church fulfills its mission. 

Curative theology is supernaturally transformative from within rather than an external push for behavioral compliance. Focusing on the cure does not negate the importance of Christian living but properly establishes the priority of dealing with the sickness instead of the symptoms. 

Performative Theology

Theology is performative when it focuses on our actions or desires. Someone once told me I was so uptight that a diamond would be the output if I ate a coal brick. My mindset was that we had to adhere to the principles we could derive from scripture with self-flagellating enthusiasm. As time passed, I shifted the focus from outward behavior to inner desire, but the result was the same. I was obsessed with performance; as all sinners know, that was a losing game before it began. 

Performative theology is needed but should be secondary. Our conduct, behavior, and desires flow from our identity. Our identity is formed and reformed by the gospel. Does our performance matter? You bet! Is our performance curative? Not in the slightest, or Christ’s sacrifice was meaningless. 

Medicinal Ministry

Where does your church spend most of its time regarding your faith? Does it reinforce your proclivity toward religious observance? Are sermons one part diagnostic TED talk and one part marching orders, or do they prioritize proclamations of Christ crucified for you? Imagine a bottle of medicine sitting on the pulpit that could cure the condition of the congregation. Does your pastor spend more time reviewing the ingredients, directions, and side effects or dispensing the cure? Is the cure even administered? 

Jesus didn’t come to heal those who were well. He came as the great physician to call sinners (Mark 2:17). The ministry of the local church should focus on the gospel such that the side effects of the Spirit’s fruit overflow in generosity, love, and obedience. 

The great physician didn’t come to give us weekly checkups or to run lab tests on our works. He came to resurrect us as we lie dead in our trespasses. He gifted us with the means of grace to continuously renew and refresh us. Performative theology should be the natural product of curative theology. Our good works flow from hearts and hands transformed by the heart of the Father toward us and the nail-scarred hands of the Savior bleeding for us.

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