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One of the best ways to gauge your mental health is by what you do with the teachings of Scripture.
A few instances....
Jesus said, "Do not worry about tomorrow" (Matthew 6:34). Bad mental health takes that to mean that long range plans, insurance programs, and concerns about the future of one's loved ones is sinful. Good mental health keeps it in the perspective of the entire Bible's teachings on the subject.
Jesus said, "By their fruits you will know them" (Matthew 7:20). Bad mental health takes this as a license to inspect the lives and productivity of anyone claiming to follow Christ. Good mental health sees it in context, that one's works will generally speaking tell the tale on who we really are.
Jesus said, "As you have believed, so let it be done for you" (Matthew 8:13). Bad mental health interprets this (and similar scriptures) as carte blanche promises that we get what we believe God for, and if we are not getting, it's because we are not believing strongly enough. Good mental health knows that there is far more to this issue than some isolated scriptures or instances of the Lord's healing.
The shooter in Tucson from a few weeks back provided one more lesson that we seem to keep getting in this country again and again: The person with poor mental health can look at anything and make it into something bad.
Three texts in I Corinthians impressed this upon me during my reading this morning.
I do love a good story.
The only thing I love more is being the one telling it.
I'm clearly not alone in my devotion to the story. It forms the outline of every television soap opera, sitcom and cop show and most of the movies. It fells forests to supply paper for an unending outpouring of novels, all with a story to tell. It connects with people as nothing else does.
In "My Reading Life," novelist Pat Conroy drops story upon story upon the reader, supplying me with more writing-or-sermon illustrations than any single book I've read in a year.
Last night, I came across Conroy's tale of the time an agent for his publisher took him as a young, up-and-coming writer as he called on booksellers to market their latest line. On the third day out, the agent suddenly turned to Pat and said, "You've seen me do this. Now, let's see if you've got what it takes.... We know you can write a book; now let's see if you can sell one."
Conroy was game. He gave it a try. Addressing the bookseller, he launched into the chatter he'd heard from the agent, making the case for each of the new works coming from the publisher. Then he came to his own book, "The Water is Wide." He described it.
The store owner said, "Who gives a d--n?"
Conroy was stunned. The man said, "What should my readers care what happened to a bunch of black kids on an island no one's ever heard of?"
Conroy said, "Well, the book is well written."
But the owner was not swallowing that. "I don't want to order a single copy of the book. It's not for me. I can't think of a soul who'd buy it."
Conroy says, "I finished selling the list in a barely controlled rage.... By the time I left that bookstore, I was ready to whack the living daylights out of that smug, hostile bookseller who had taken such grotesque pleasure in my humiliation."
Later, over dinner with the agent, he found out what had happened.
Remind them of these things.... (II Timothy 2:14)
If you have pastored for more than four or five years, or if you are in your second (or more) pastorate, you have learned the hard way that saying something one time to your people does not suffice. Some lessons--the most important ones, particularly--have to be said again and again.
Some of the most foundational messages--such as salvation by faith in Christ, the adequacy of the Word, and the importance of the cross--we continually work into sermons and lessons. These cannot be over-stressed.
Other lessons have to do with how the Christian faith is applied in our daily lives or in the operation of the Lord's church. These too need to be iterated and re-iterated.
Each minister will have his/her own list. Here are my top ten principles to stress to your congregation again and again.
I suggest that we run these in the church bulletin, figure out how to get the gist of them onto the sign in front of the campus, print them on posters and post around the church, and speak them repeatedly in committees and classes and sermons.
Eventually, if you say them often enough and strong enough, people will begin to remember them. They might even tease you a little, as though you made these up and no one else in the Lord's work says this. When they tease you, take pride. You're finally getting through.
1. If you have a problem with change, you are not going to get along with Jesus very well and you are going to be unhappy in this church.
Then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you who practice lawlessness.' (Matthew 7:23)
Sometimes we read something in the Bible and come away wondering. Matthew 7 is an example.
Jesus told how at the last day--that means at the final judgment--"many" would say to Him, "Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in your name, cast out demons in your name, and done many wonders in your name?"
His answer (above) is intriguing. It tells us it's possible for a person to do all kinds of miracle-working ministry in the name of Jesus and still get it wrong. The "lawlessness" in the NKJV is translated as "iniquity" in the KJV. Knox expressed this as "you that traffic in wrongdoing," J. B. Phillips has it say "you have worked on the side of evil!" and Beck's translation says "you who are so busy doing wrong."
This has always puzzled me. But last week something happened to throw light on the issue. And it came from the unlikeliest of sources.
Have you ever met a children's worker who hated kids? I have.
Have you ever seen a preacher who did not believe in God? My friend John attended some divinity school classes with such people at Berkeley.
Have you ever met a Bible teacher who did not believe the Bible? The woods are filled with them.
It takes all kinds, they say. I reckon so.
I thought of some of the weird people we meet in the ministry this week while reading Pat Conroy's latest book, "My Reading Life." For everyone who loves to read, I cannot recommend this too highly. Every chapter is a delight. And for anyone who loves to write, ditto; every sentence is a wonder.
As a military brat, Conroy's family moved around a lot. When they settled in Beaufort, SC, he found it hard to form new friendships and while dodging the campus bullies discovered the school library. This became his favorite place. The odd thing however, is that the librarian resented him coming in and reading books.
I thought you'd appreciate Conroy's story about the librarian who hated readers. Here's the story....
This morning a pastor friend told some of us the sermon he is working on for next Sunday. The challenge, he said, was that part of the text is very difficult. "How to convey its message without getting too theological is my problem," he said.
My own skeptical nature translated that as: "How to preach it without boring my people to death is what I'm up against!"
Earlier this week, on this website we addressed the question of what a pastor is to do when his guest preacher is boring the congregation. But there is a more urgent question....
What should the preacher do when his own preaching is boring the people in the pews?
If he discovers that in the middle of a sermon, there's little he can do other than to shoot up an emergency prayer-flare for divine help.
But if he is preparing adequately for his pulpit work, he will know early on that this sermon has great potential to bore his people and can take steps to head off that peril.
Question: How does a pastor know on Tuesday that next Sunday's sermon will be boring?
When it comes to sheep, the shepherd wants to protect them from wolves and other predators.
But when those sheep are the members of a church, the shepherd--aka, the pastor--has two groups to safeguard them from: predators who would take unfair advantage of the people and ruin a church and the dullards who would kill a good congregation by sheer boredom.
Protecting them from one group is as big a challenge as from the other.
Two stories today. One tells how on one occasion I determined to protect my people from a boring Bible study, and the second reveals how I learned that lesson the hard way.
Some of us work with words. As much as a farmer works does with the soil and a potter with the clay, we deal with words. Writers, pastors, teachers--we are wordsmiths.
And therein lies the challenge. Unless we stay close to the Lord and keep a steady eye on our assignment, it's possible that in time we can send forth empty words to do our work for us. We can fill a page or an hour with words and words and more words. Eventually, we think that's all we need to do, just speak words.
You have wearied the Lord with your words. Yet you say, "In what way have we wearied Him?" (Malachi 2:17)
Addressing the people of the Lord, the prophet Malachi is in no way limiting his message to the professional priests and ministers. All the Lord's people were guilty of the sin of word inflation.
It's an easy trap to fall into, filling our worship on Sunday with so many words. And leaving the church thinking we have done something worthwhile just because we spoke some words, read some written words, and sang words printed in a book or flashed on a screen.
The Lord in Heaven is sick and tired of words that are multiplied and inflated as though He were some mindless professor grading term papers by their weight.
I know what it is to bore myself with my preaching.
It's not putting words into the Lord's mouth to say that one thing the Living God utterly despises is limp, weak-as-tea ministry rendered by insipid, bored disciples who would rather be doing anything in the world than that.
I have been guilty of this. And if you have been in the ministry for any length of time, my guess is you know about this kind of failure also.
You possess endurance and have tolerated many things because of My Name, and have not grown weary. But I have this against you: you have abandoned the love you had at first. (Revelation 2:3-4)
The church at Ephesus was doing a hundred things right and one big thing wrong: they had lost the heart for God they had at first. They preached and taught, they ministered and served, they prayed and witnessed. But their heart was not in it any longer.
And that negated the entire thing.
Remember how far you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first. Otherwise I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent. (Revelation 2:5)
If you think that sounds like what the Lord said to another church down the road a few miles, you would be correct.
I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I am going to vomit you out of my mouth. (Revelation 3:15-16)
Lukewarm religion. Passionless Christianity.
The worst kind.
Say you're a pastor. And let's say a pastor search committee is all over you, believing that you are the man for their church, God's own choice. And they want you to travel to their city and preach in their pulpit and give their people a chance to "call" you as their new shepherd.
And let's say the church is much larger, the salary provides a hefty boost in your income, and the prestige is twice what it is where you are. This has to be of God, right?
Oh, one thing more. Let's say your wife is unhappy about it.
What does a pastor do in this case?
Most of us in the ministry have been there at one time or another, in one way or the other.
In my case, it was the opposite. My wife thought the committee was correct, that relocating to the bigger church was of the Lord. I was the holdout, the one who could not decide.
It wasn't that I was opposed to moving. I just wanted a word from God that it was the right thing to do.
A friend counseled me on how to pray in this matter. I did as he suggested, and a half-hour later rose to my feet and picked up the phone and called the chairman of the pastor search committee, asking them to remove my name from consideration. I called Margaret and told her, then buckled down to becoming the best pastor for my people I knew how to be. It worked out.
Or did it? To this day, Margaret is not so sure we did the right thing.
The main reason is that one year later, we accepted the call to another church--yes, a larger and more prestigious church--and it did not turn out well. After a very hard three years, we took a paid leave of absence and walked away from that pastorate, ending up in metro New Orleans.
This is one of those things which every husband and wife have in their relationship attic somewhere: an issue on which they simply agree to disagree.
The other day a pastor's wife e-mailed me about a similar situation she and her husband were facing.
How many aspects are there to a pastoral ministry? A thousand? There's preaching, studying, pastoral calling, counseling, administration, writing, moderating business meetings, conflict resolution, teaching, prayer, denominational service, motivation, planning meetings, mentoring, correspondence, communication, and cartooning. (Okay, I just put the last one in there because it was always a part of my pastoral work.)
Now, under each of those categories there are subdivisions. "Preaching" involves various kinds of preaching, different styles and reasons and goals. "Studying" may involve learning the original languages, reading theological textbooks, combing through commentaries, reading books of sermons, and pursuing all kinds of online resources.
Okay. Now, here's the point.
If we made a list of one thousand aspects of a typical pastoral ministry, we would find someone somewhere who is passionate about each one.
I guarantee you that someone somewhere is passionate about writing a column for the church newsletter, someone else is passionate about staff meetings, another is passionate about pastoral calling in the homes of members. A huge percentage of preachers is passionate about delivering sermons and a smaller percentage about doing the study which preaching requires.
Passion. It means a single-mindedness. Whatever is our passion turns us on, drives us, pulls us, motivates us. We love it above all else. If the ministry were taken away from us today, this is what we would miss most.
Figure out the five worst jobs in your ministry, pastor, and somewhere there are preachers who love those tasks above all else. The human animal is complex and comes in ten thousand varieties.
No, ten billion is more like it. With no two alike. Anyway....
I cannot quit thinking about a conversation with James in my office one day. He had pastored several churches and owned two seminary degrees, but at the moment was "between churches." As the director of missions, I was the denominational go-to guy to help him find a church. At least, in his thinking I was.
"I have to preach, Joe!" he said, growing excited. "It's in my blood! I'm passionate about preaching."
I knew that about him, and therefore used that moment to make a point.
"Jim, that might be the problem, my friend."
"What do you mean?"
"Preaching should not be your passion. Jesus should be your passion."
Give him credit. Jim took that like a man. In fact, he settled back down in his chair and, after a moment, said, "Wow. Thank you for that. You are so right."
So, what is your passion, preacher? And how does it compare with your passion for Jesus?
Let me say up front that I do not have a formula for enabling anyone to enjoy criticism. No one finds pleasure in being told he is wrong, that she needs to change the way she does something, that an apology is in order. Even the most accurate and helpful criticism can be painful when it arrives. How much more an unfair accusation flung our way.
Simply stated, there are two kinds of criticisms: the fair and the unfair. The truthful and the slanderous. The well-intentioned and the mean-spirited.
If you live long enough, you will encounter both kinds. How you deal with them will determine a thousand things about your character and your happiness.
Chuck Swindoll has something to say that fits here:
Anybody can accept a reward graciously, and many people can even take their punishment patiently when they have done something wrong. But how many people are equipped to handle mistreatment after they've done right? Only Christians are equipped to do that. This is what makes believers stand out. That's our uniqueness. (from "Bedside Blessings," a daily devotional)
This morning, my favorite early news talk program was dealing with this very thing. The talkers (I hesitate to call them anything other than that; do they do anything other than appear on talk shows and write their opinions for the newspapers?) were wondering something about Sarah Palin.
Originally, we're told, a critic was someone who remarked on the worth of a literary piece. To "critique" was to pass judgment on a writing.
"Everyone's a critic," goes the old line. Not in the sense that everyone is passing judgment on literary offerings but simply that everyone has an opinion on everything.
"How's the food?" you ask a diner in the restaurant. "Did you enjoy the movie?" you ask someone coming out the cinema. "So, what did you think of today's sermon?" you ask the worshiper since you had to miss church this morning. "And how was the choir special?"
Everyone has an opinion. Everyone is a critic. Welcome to Human Nature 101.
You and I sit in our living room and notice the television news anchor has dyed her hair a rather strange color. The weather guy has put on weight. And what an odd outfit one of the other women on the program is wearing.
One thing you can count on: If you and I notice these things enough to remark on them, someone is writing or calling the station to point it out. And that bugs the fire out of the television personalities.
I've heard them complain, "Why do people think they have a right to call attention to what you are wearing or how you do your hair or whether I've added a few pounds?"
The answer: If we are going to be staring at you every day of our lives, we will notice these things. And if something is not right, it bugs us. And--important point coming up!--when we are bugged, we feel we have to try to remedy the situation.
In fact, it's more than a right. It's our duty.
That's why we are all critics. Ask a coach. At any level, in any sport, coaches are constantly pestered by spectators who sit in the stands and call attention to their shortcomings. He should have taken that player out, put this one in, not called that play, called a timeout.
We are critics because when we see things that upset us, we want to set them right. In that sense, we are all "controllers."
Nowhere does the matter of criticism come into play more than in the congregation of Christian people. It's there that people have come for healing. It's there many find such compassionate friends whom they come to trust that they begin to open themselves up. And they become vulnerable to great hurt from those who should have been their best friends.
Five points on the subject of criticism need to be emphasized here.
The other day I posted a note on Facebook that went something like this: "It's not a resolution for 2011, but my goal is to write an article for my website that gets passed around the world and is used of God to change everyone who reads it."
That thought has lingered with me ever since, to the point that I really feel it's something I need to try to do.
And yes, I have checked out my motives on this. I imagine this is not unlike a pastor wanting to preach a sermon that will be read and quoted across the globe. Or someone wanting to write a song that will top the charts. Are my motives pure? I think so. With all my heart I want to glorify the Lord Jesus and to bless His people. In no way is this about me.
As the subject burned in my heart, I began reflecting on what kind of article it would have to be in order to have that kind of effect. Here's what I've come up with so far:
It would have to--
--touch a nerve. That is, connect with people immediately.
--meet a need. It can't be theoretical but has to deal with genuine issues.
--tell a story. Stories connect better than abstract principles.
--give a formula. It needs to offer solid solutions to the problem it addresses.
Later, it occurred to me that this is also the description (prescription?) for a good sermon and for a great country song!
Something about those children intrigued me, but I couldn't figure out what it was.
For the past week or two, I have noticed these three small children playing in their yard near the Mississippi River levee. Normally, in my daily walk I don't travel as far east as their house, but recently I began lengthening the walk by another mile, trying to lose more weight. That's when I began noticing them.
The oldest child seemed to be seven or eight. There was a younger brother and a little sister. In the yard was all kinds of play equipment. No matter how cold it was, they were out there laughing and running, jumping and hiding, having a big time. You could hear them a block away.
Something about that made me smile. "Whatever the parents are doing," I thought, "it's working."
Yesterday, the children were out once more, enjoying life. As I reached my turning-around point and headed back, I noticed they were doing something different. They and another boy had several large-wheel vehicles at the top of the levee which they were riding down to their yard across the grassy expanse. Two women sat in chairs near the house, keeping an eye on them. One was the mother, I assumed.
As I neared them, all the children rode off the levee except the oldest boy. As I approached, he looked in my direction and said, "Hi. I'm Harley." I was so taken aback, I had to ask, "That's your name?" He said it was. I said, "Hi Harley. My name is Mister Joe." He smiled a big grin and said,"Hi, Mister Joe!" Then, off the levee he went.
I walked away thinking my first impression of that family was right on. The parents are doing many things right. Here is a little kid with a great friendly attitude, confident enough to introduce himself to strangers, and enjoying life to its fullest.
One day soon I plan to introduce myself to the parents. I'm going to predict that I will find the family does not have a television set and the children do not own computer games. There's more to that family than this, of course, and I want to find out what it is.
From the first, I had felt there was something so attractive about that family.
And that's what started me thinking about churches. Is it possible to do a drive-by of a church and within a few seconds determine that it's a healthy church?
I've run that question by a number of friends.
You're sitting in church listening to the pastor. His sermon is typical of most you have heard through the years: sometimes he scales the rhetorical heights and leads you to emotional highs, and once in a while he bogs down in minutiae and loses you in details. In between, he "shells the corn," as we used to say on the farm to indicate someone doing a job well but not spectacularly.
Paul's Epistle to the Galatian churches has its emotional highs and also bogs down in places with theological details. Anyone attempting to teach the six chapters to his congregation will want to work hard and prepare well if he wishes to keep the people with him during the slower, heavier sections.
The most fun thing for a pastor to do--this is just my opinion--is to decide not to give his people a verse-by-verse study but to preach Galatians' high points. He will "fill in the cracks" between the sermons with enough contextual material to get across the essence of the book. The advantage is he can take the epistle in bite-size portions. The disadvantage--well, the major one--is that he will be teaching the epistle piecemeal and not everyone will be present for all the sermons.
That said, here are my candidates for the ten best verses or passages in Galatians. If I were pastoring, these would be the basis for my series of ten sermons from this epistle. A word of explanation: The commentary here is not intended to be a sermon, but merely insights and other material you may find helpful.
My pastor says he was checking into a website responsible for a series of "believe-in-yourself" television commercials that have been airing over the holidays. When he checked to see who was responsible and what their values were, he found where they stated, "We believe in the basic goodness of all people."
One wonders what kind of number a person would have to do on himself to convince himself of that misguided philosophy.
We want to believe it. That's part of our sinful nature, to believe that we are all right and not in need of anyone saving us or forgiving us. It's a major strain in our sinful system to hold that all we need to do is release everyone from restraints and for preachers to quit laying guilt trips on us and all will be well.
Uh huh. Did you read your morning paper? How many people were killed in your city last night by people who were resisting restraints and determining to have their own way.
Recently, I have discovered discussions on the contradictory nature of man in two of the strangest places. One was a western novel and the other a biography of a longshoreman philosophy from over 40 years ago.