Theology is best understood as our religious convictions about God, as seen in his character, nature, and work.

I believe there are two levels to our theology. I label them this way.

First, there is thin theology. These are the thoughts we derive from reading the Bible. We study Scripture, and it reveals God to us as pure information.

Second, there is thick theology. These are our thoughts about God based on his word and our experience. We study the scriptures, but we have also learned enough about life that we see it through a different lens. God is seen through his word, and we acknowledge how that plays out in people’s lives.

Thin theology states there is only one God, and atheists are wrong. Thick theology reminds us that most atheists have had one truly painful experience that leads them to believe there is no God, because he could not allow this much pain. Therefore, a believer needs to approach their situation with empathy, not by shouting the truth angrily.

Thin theology teaches that people without Jesus are bound for hell. Thick theology allows this truth to break the believer’s heart so that they share the good news of Jesus with all those who are lost.

Thin theology is the result of information. Thick theology includes emotion. Both are true, but one you can feel.

When I started in ministry, my theology was thin, and I think I might have hurt several people with my hard-hearted convictions. As I have aged, I believe my theology has thickened while my heart has softened.

Lately, whenever I get into a discussion with people about God, I ask myself, “What kind of theology do they have?” Often, the problem is not with their thinking, as they have the correct understanding of Scripture. They simply lack the experience that a life of faith requires.

A pastor whose area of expertise is in welcoming and assimilating new people into a Church community was teaching his approach. He said that one thing he does and encourages others to do is to walk up to people you do not know. Then say, “Hey, I don’t know you yet. And you deserve to be known.”

Finally, he says, “My name is Tommy. Now tell me about yourself.” And the conversation always takes off from there.

One of the quickest ways to connect with people in a meaningful conversation is to express that you want to know them. It is a powerful witness for Jesus when we encourage people to reveal themselves, because all of us deserve to be known.

Long-term answers are not the same as short-term solutions. One is quick and immediate. The other takes a lifetime to develop.

Whenever you confront a problem, you need to be 100% clear about the types of answers you are given and the solution you are choosing.

Short Term Versus Long Term

Not every answer solves a problem in the same way. Some solutions work quickly. They bring relief, reduce pressure, and help us move forward in the moment. Others take much longer. They require patience, consistency, and often a willingness to grow over time.

The challenge is that short-term solutions can feel like enough. They ease the tension just enough that we’re tempted to stop there. But long-term answers don’t just address the symptoms; they also get to the root of the problem. They form character, deepen wisdom, and create lasting change.

So whenever you’re faced with a problem, pause and ask a question: Is this just helping me get through today, or is it helping me become who I need to be tomorrow?

Because the truth is, a life built on quick fixes will always feel fragile. But a life shaped by long-term faithfulness will stand firm.

Choose wisely; not just what works now, but what will still matter later.

Some professional players are worried about their stats. They want touches, highlight reels, personal glory, and a big contract. Others want to win a championship. They desire to see the group succeed and be known as a winner, to the point of being willing to sacrifice individual accomplishments for the good of the team.

Some people are only in it for themselves, while others are team players.

This is not only true at the professional sports level of competition, but also in other arenas, including the Church.

Team players are willing to park at the outskirts of the lot so that guests can have the close spots.

Team players are willing to sit up front in the least desirable seats for the sake of latecomers who can use the back rows.

Team players willingly serve others and sacrifice their time to be the hands of Jesus.

Team players help guests find whatever they need on Sunday and make sure they are comfortable.

Team players want to see the whole Church succeed in the name of Jesus rather than focusing on themselves.

What makes a great Church? The same attitude that exists on championship caliber teams: A willingness to be a team player.

Several members of my congregation make fun of me for being so particular about the chair setup in the auditorium of our worship area. In fact, many will quietly say I have OCD about the placement of every one of them. And honestly, it is not too far from the truth. Let me explain.

Our auditorium is not large, but with proper arrangement, I can fit 256 chairs in without any issues and still have room for another 14-20 metal chairs from our kitchen. This is critically important on big days like Christmas and Easter, as we will fill almost every seat except the front row.

The reason I am so focused on the placement of each row is that being off by 1 inch per row adds up to 10 inches when the rows are in place. That means the back row will not fit and leave space for walking. An extra inch of spacing between the rows will throw everything off, and we will lose a whole row in the end.

Our lives work in much the same way. If you waste a few minutes here and there, it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but often it leaves us with little room for the love of God and our neighbor. If you spend a little extra money here and there, it may not be a big deal in a month, but by the end of the year, you could be behind thousands. Make a moral compromise, and you may feel no immediate ill effects. But when you have to cover it with a lie, another soon follows, and you eventually lose sight of the truth.

Slopes are often slippery, and small mistakes can add up to big problems. That is why I am picky about chairs and why you should pay close attention to even the little things in your life.  

One challenge in the Christian life is to move beyond viewing the Church merely as a place for the transmission of information.

It is easy to sit in a group of people and share all the knowledge of the Bible we have acquired over the years. We can explain stories in detail, share practical thoughts, and encourage one another without actually doing anything.

It is not enough for believers to talk about discipleship. We need to disciple people. Spiritual maturity is not telling people they need to serve the Lord. It is about doing a ministry. Instructions on loving our neighbor are meaningless if you have no contact with your neighbor.

The Christian faith is not about talking the talk. It is about walking the walk.

The men on the podcast were sharing ideas back and forth when one of them said, “Keep going, this is turning into a thought soup for me.”

I’d never heard that phrase before, but I loved it instantly.

As followers of Jesus, we should be drawing from a wide range of voices, creating our own kind of thought soup. We take in ideas, let them simmer, and then speak truth, faithfully and thoughtfully, helping others apply it as we are learning to do.

One preacher said he’s learning the most right now from people he strongly disagrees with. He reads books he dislikes, listens to podcasts, and watches videos he knows won’t align with Jesus or the life He calls us to. But in doing so, he’s forced to wrestle with those perspectives and respond with deeply considered biblical truth. In the process, he’s learning to filter everything through the lens of Scripture and godly wisdom.

A good thought soup isn’t made from a single ingredient. It requires variety to bring depth and flavor. And the best ones take time to develop. In the same way, a rich and resilient faith is formed by a steady diet of well-seasoned, deeply rooted biblical thought.

Why does the Church exist?

That is a multifaceted answer. It comes down to the two primary dimensions that Jesus taught his followers to uphold. Christians are to love God and love their neighbor.

Each week, the community of believers gathers to pray, sing, learn, and share communion as part of their worship of God. These things are practiced alone throughout the week, but Christians come together to lift their voices in unison to Jesus, their Savior.

These faithful people are also there to connect. There is fellowship, conversation, instruction, and prayer for one another.

Recently, I heard a Church leader say that he wants everyone who joins them in worship on Sunday to know that we are here “to walk with you on your faith journey.”

Every human being needs community. The Church may fill numerous roles in a believer’s life, but one of the most significant ways it meets a need is by loving and supporting one another. The Church is composed of people who follow Jesus and love their Lord, and that love is expressed to every person who walks through the doors on Sunday.

If you are thinking about seeing what this “faith thing” is all about, know that we are here for you. If you are new to this journey with Jesus, know that we are here to support you. In a world where individual accomplishment is heralded, the people of God say, “You do not have to walk alone; we want to walk with you on the path of faith.”

Seven days have passed since Good Friday. Five days since the stone was rolled away and the tomb was found empty. Five days since death was defeated, and heaven rang with victory.

Scripture tells us that after His Resurrection, Jesus appeared to His followers over a period of forty days. Yet something is strikingly tucked away in that timeline. After showing Himself to the disciples minus Thomas on Resurrection Sunday, there is silence. No recorded appearances for an entire week. And when Jesus finally shows up again, it is the following Sunday, and this time Thomas is in the room.

That means Thomas waited seven full days to encounter Jesus. Seven days of hearing the testimony of men he trusted. Seven days of seeing the change in their eyes, the fire in their voices, the way they spoke about an empty tomb as though the world itself had been turned inside out. The evidence was compelling. The witnesses were credible. And yet Thomas had not seen Jesus for himself.

I believe most of us know exactly what that week felt like.

We live our Christian life in that in-between space. We spend our lives in the gap between the announcement and the face-to-face encounter. We hold onto others’ testimony. We trust the Word. We reason through the evidence and find it solid. But there are weeks, and sometimes seasons, when the risen Christ feels distant, and we are left simply waiting for Him to walk through the door.

The beauty of the Thomas story isn’t just that Jesus showed up, but that He showed up specifically for the one who was still waiting. Whether it takes seven days or seventy years, the promise remains: the One who defeated death is coming for you.

Keep showing up. Stay in the room. Jesus is coming, and one day you will see him face-to-face.

Recently, I’ve been studying a fast-growing church in Florida, asking a simple question: What can I learn that might strengthen my own ministry? One idea that has stuck with me is their use of “Decision Filters.” These are short, memorable statements that capture the heart of how they operate as a church.

One filter in particular is both simple and striking: “Sled dogs over show dogs.”

The meaning is powerful. Sled dogs are not flashy. They don’t perform for applause. They lean into the harness, pull together, and do the hard, often unseen work that moves the mission forward. Show dogs, on the other hand, are admired for their appearance and performance. They draw attention, but they don’t carry the weight.

This Church has chosen to value sacrifice over the spotlight, not individual recognition, but shared responsibility. Not image, but impact.

This begs the question, “What kind of servant are you?”

In our walk with Christ, it’s easy to drift toward being a “show dog.” We can subtly crave recognition, affirmation, or visibility. We want to be seen, appreciated, even applauded. But the Kingdom of God has always advanced on the backs of “sled dogs.” Those faithful men and women who serve quietly, give sacrificially, and labor together for something bigger than themselves.

The Church is strongest not when a few shine brightly, but when many pull faithfully.