I watched a Church leader webinar last week with one of my former college professors named Mark Moore. In the middle of his teaching about how to get the Church to engage the Bible, he stopped and made a statement that I immediately wrote down and want to share with you today. He said, based off his own experience alone and no other research, he has determined that we measure spiritual maturity among believers by four criteria.

1. Doctrine
2. Morality
3. Experience
4. Social Justice

Each of these is relatively self-explanatory but let me say a word or two. Doctrine is about believing a specific set of teachings. This may vary from group to group, yet there is always adherence to that group’s teaching. Second is morality, and that is best understood as living a life without the things we classify as ungodly. This can range from the way we dress to the things we put in our bodies. The third is experience, and that is about our feelings. It is hard to measure because each person’s experience might be different, but the common thread is that our faith produced some encounter we cannot explain without God. Finally, there is social justice, and this is described as caring for any social issue. This can range from fighting poverty to working in political fields for change.

Mr. Moore described these as the four essential measuring tools that every believer and Church uses when it comes to spirituality. Then he said something I find fascinating. He asserted that no believer and no Church focuses on more than two at a time.

If this is true, it explains so much to me and hopefully to you. This explains why each Church does what they think is important. This is why some believers, even in the same Church, can have such different approaches to faith. One person is concerned about social justice mixed with experience, and another is all about doctrine with morality. These two people struggle to get along because they have different tools to measure faith. I think the implications for the Church are limitless.

So, let me ask you today, which two of these do you think are the most prominent measures of faith? Once you have yours firmly established in your mind, start asking other people there two. See where you are alike and where you are different. This might help you to understand your friends, other believers and the Church with which you are connected.

In college, one of my professors defined a sermon as “speaking the word of God through our personality.” I have never forgotten that definition because it felt so wrong and right all at the same time. The primary goal of all preaching and teaching in the Church is to communicate God’s will through the explanation of his word. Also, my experience had taught me that the person speaking brought their personality and past to each sermon.

This lesson was learned in the early days of preaching. I would hear an excellent sermon from someone else, and then I would try to replicate it. Every time I tried this maneuver, it fell flat. People could listen to the lack of wisdom in my voice and see that it was not my personality but an attempt to be someone else.

Through the years, I have learned to develop my voice. When I talk about marriage, I have 25 years of ups and downs to draw upon for material. My sermons on theology now have years of Bible reading under my belt. Whatever I say about prayer is the result of hitting my knees repeatedly and talking to God. I speak what I know about God through my personality as forged by my life experience. As a result, every time I stand up to speak, I share words that only I can say.

The same is true for each one of us. God has been shaping your life through the years even without you noticing it. The potter has made you into his beautiful masterpiece by using pain, pleasure, and your overall life experience. The conclusion is that you have a message to share with the world that only you can speak. What you have been through can help someone else. Your growth through seasons of pain will be a guide for other people walking a similar path. Your personality will click with some people and help them to understand God better. You are a sermon that you can give to the world, and only you can preach it.

I was talking with a Church member about some activities and events that were taking place in our faith and local community when something happened. The name of a particular person was brought up, and a question was asked about their participation. The response was a simple, “They are a part of this Church,” and then they rolled their eyes. We both smiled, and the conversation went forward with no more discussion.

That one eye rolled said everything without saying anything. Neither of us was being judgmental nor mean. We did not speak ill or that person, and we were in no way spreading malicious stories. At the same time, we both acknowledged the truth on a deeper level.

When someone rolls their eyes, it is a statement of “don’t pay any attention to them.” That means this person says things that are usually proven to be untrue. In other words, they say they are a part of our Church, but there is no evidence to support that claim.

This encounter made me smile and hurt and think all at the same time. For me, I like to take ideas and flip them over to see them from another angle. I immediately wondered, “What do people roll their eyes about when they talk about me?” What is there in my life that I claim true and everyone knows it is not, but no one says a word?

Christian integrity is about doing what you say you believe. Your words and actions need to be in complete harmony. I wonder, “Where are the gaps in my life I am missing?” If I could see people talking about me, at what point do they roll their eyes. This is most likely the place where my life needs attention as a believer. Am I all talk and no actions? Do my actions align with my words? Do I believe things about myself that have no evidence in my life?

Through the years, my actions have received a due amount of jokes and finger-pointing. I am deeply flawed, but I am trying to grow in the Lord. One sign of my growth and maturity is that I live in a way that no one will roll their eyes about me anymore.

Every year I spend a few minutes on this day reflecting on the tragic events of that morning. There are so many lessons about treasuring life, loving unreservedly, making sacrifices, and finding hope in Jesus that I could fill several pages with enlightening material. Today I want to tell you a story.

In September of 2001, I was ready to launch a new Church. I had been on the field for 13 months working hard to get this thing off the ground. I had gathered a small group of people and kept building a team. During the summer, we held “preview programs” each month to let the community know we were coming. Our “Grand Beginning” was slated for Sunday, September 16th.

Outside of working with people one on one, I also had a marketing campaign to help the Church get going the right direction. There were three mailer cards (trendy at the time) to be sent out each week leading up to the launch. The Church had paid thousands of dollars for design, printing and mailing each of these cards. They were all dropped off four weeks before the big day at the post office with dates they were to be received attached. One by one, they went out. It was generating a buzz in the community, and numerous people were showing interest.

Then on September 11, 2001, I headed to the Church office and turned on the radio as I usually did on my drive across town. There I was greeted with silence and a somber voice telling me of the morning’s events. I arrived at the office a few minutes before my associate, who ran in telling me details. I called my wife and told her to turn on the TV, and everyone watched in horror as the morning unfolded.

Next, a thought went through my mind, “Our mailer cards are hitting today.” The third and final card was a picture of a man speaking in front of a group with cobwebs coming off his body. It was a drawing of an older man who was clearly boring people. The caption said, “Yada, Yada, Yada” You flip it over, and there it read, “Think you have heard it all before?” It proceeded to tell you about this exciting new Church coming that Sunday. It was meant to be funny and final note in the three-card series about this new Church.

I knew the moment they hit. The phone started ringing. People were furious. One man asked, “How could you try to do something funny on a day like this?” Everyone spoke to me as if I knew what was about to happen and chose to send these despite the problematic situation. I am not kidding you that I spent a few hours explaining to people that I dropped these off four weeks before and had no idea of the tragedy that would happen that day. The calls were just the beginning as I received emails and letters the coming week from upset community members.

Finally, Sunday came, and our new Church launched. We were on track to have 300 or more people at this grand beginning that included many well-wishers that I knew, and hopefully a group of interested people. Instead, everyone went to their home Church or back to a place of worship, of which they were familiar. All total 120 came to our launch, and that included my wife and I’s family. We were officially one week into this new Church, and it looked like everything was going to derail. The following week a little over 60 people showed up, and things looked grim. This was all the direct result of events of that Tuesday morning.

I am thankful to say that the first year was rougher than planned, and we struggled to get off the ground, but the power of God was more significant than September 11. Now, 18 years later, the Church still exists, although it has changed names and made some major adjustments, it is still there. The forces of evil did not kill the Church on that day.

So, every year I spend some time reflecting on this morning. This year is no exception. While I hurt for those families, who lost loved ones, I also spend time thinking about the Church that almost died that morning. I also think about the collateral damage of pain. September 11th could have killed that new Church located thousands of miles from the activity, but by the power of God, it did not. Each year I am reminded that I worship a God bigger than the work of evil in this world. He is a God who can do his mighty work, and September 11th will never stop him.

The New Testament book of Acts gives us two great descriptions of the Church. In Acts chapter 2 it describes the new believers as meeting together, studying, and praying. It says that people were selling things and giving to those who had needs. Acts chapter 4, verses 32 through 37, provide this compelling picture of a Church that is unified and meeting needs within their community of faith.

Within these stories, we are only given one detail, a man named Joseph also called Barnabas sold a field and gave the proceeds to the Apostles. The primary reason for this little nugget of information is because that man will go on to be a Church planter and leader in the coming years.

Think about this for a few minutes. We have no details about what exactly the Church was doing. I would have said, “Forty-three families showed up and fed 231 meals on average each night.” I would have wanted to give everyone a detailed account of what was going on in our Church. I might have posted a few pictures to social media and give it a cool hashtag. There is this desire within me as a Church leader to let everyone know all the good things we are doing. If everyone knows about all the good stuff we are doing in the name of Jesus, and then it will shine his light even brighter and make people proud of their Church. I mean, the early Church counted converts and told us about it, why do they give us no details about their benevolence?

Maybe it is because Jesus had warned the Church about doing their “acts of righteousness” before men. He said our heavenly father sees what is done in secret. Perhaps the Church respected the privacy of people and did not one anyone to be embarrassed. They did not want the people who receive the gifts to feel like they were a “project.” Possibly the early believers did not understand the potential of marketing our goodness for the benefit of the kingdom. Whatever the reason for their silence, those first believers left us an example of silence. The ministry of the Church was done without fanfare or publicity.

I think the Church today and all its believers could learn from their example. In an age of social media, there is a possibility of misusing our good works. I believe the best work of the Church is done in secret. It is hidden from the public eye and the media’s attention. It is visible to the Heavenly Father, and he is the only one who needs to know.

So put the camera away and get out there and do something in the name of Jesus. No one needs to see, know, or offer you praise for it. God is most glorified when we are the least noticed.

I will admit that it is hard to pray for people I do not know and situations of which I have no clue.  A prayer request pops up as an email on my computer screen or social media, and I set there for a minute thinking about it.  The temptation is to do one of a few things in this situation.  One, delete the message and let someone closer to this concern pray for them.  Two, type a response of “praying,” and then go back to work.  Three, go before God and ask him to work in this mystery situation with this unknown person. 

At moments like this, I notice a tension in prayer that exists, at least for me.  Are my prayers born out of a love for the person or a belief in the power of God? 

Sure, it is easier to lift up the requests of others to God when we know the details.  This is especially true if we are close to those involved.  When my mom needs prayer, I will pour out my heart in intimate moments with God.  I love her, and I want the best for her in every way.  But I must ask myself, “Does God’s power change when I know the person?”

I believe sincere prayer is born out of a belief in an Almighty God.  He is the creator, sustainer, healer and will work with power and grace for his people.

This morning several requests from the weekend at flowing across my screen, and here I sit.  These are the moments when it is revealed if I am a person of faith or just kindhearted toward the people I know. 

Here are some of the most interesting articles I have read over the past few weeks. I hope you enjoy them too.

I Couldn’t Live the Lie of My Sexuality – an excellent story and article

I am a False Prophet – great article about worry.

18 Texts That Say “I’m Sorry” – keep these for when you need them.

Five Things We Now Know the Online World Is Doing to Us That Has Never Been Done to Us Before – none of these are really surprising, but a nice reminder.

An Elevator Pitch for Church Membership – some stuff I have been saying for years.

Make a habit/break a habit – more good stuff from Seth Godin

Last Sunday, I finished a sermon series on how we use our mouths for the glory of God. My final message was that we need to be telling other people about Jesus and inviting them into a relationship with him. This can happen directly as we teach and preach personally, or it can happen indirectly as we ask people to Church where someone else can explain the gospel.

Upon reflection after the sermon, I thought there was more I should have said at this point. I believe most people are waiting for an invitation to attend Church. Every survey that I read says that people are willing attend but only if they are invited.

At first, this sounds unbelievable, but there is a truth that we must not miss. As our culture becomes less and less Christian in its foundation, the less people know about Church. Often, we assume they know that our doors are open and everyone is welcome, and that is merely enough. The truth is that people who have no Christian background have no idea that they could come to Church at any time they desire. Additionally, they want to know someone who already attends before they would venture a visit.

I picture it like this, many years ago I was a part of a civic group called Sertoma (short for Service to Mankind). A man in our Church invited me, and I said I would be there if he were going to be in attendance too. I showed up a couple minutes late, and he was waiting for me out in front of our meeting room. He showed me in and introduced me, and it immediately felt like home. I joined the group and attended almost every week for the next seven years. It all started with an invitation because I knew nothing about Sertoma.

What was interesting about the group was that we were open to anyone. We ran an ad in the paper. We put a sign out in front of our meeting room. Literally any person under the sun could come, and they would have been welcomed with open arms, but no one went without a special invitation. Like me, we had no idea what went on inside those meetings, and we wanted a friendly face to help guide us.

The same is true for Church in today’s culture. People are interested in what we do but have no idea that they can attend on their own. Even if they do, they are still waiting for someone they know to make a special request to join them.

Right now, we are a few days away from Sunday. At my Church I am starting a new sermon series and beginning a fall kickoff. I am not the only one, unofficially this Sunday and next are the two days most people go back to Church after a long summer. All Churches start new programs, sermon series, and other exciting things. They want people to come, at least I know I do as a Church leader. Ironically, people who do not attend Church are interested in coming also. The only thing missing is an invitation from you.

The Biblical book of Acts has a six-verse story about a man named Joseph who was also called Barsabbas (meaning son of Sabbas), and some referred to him as Justus (Acts 1:20-26). This three-named man is mentioned in only one verse of the account, and so we know very little about him. Apparently, he had followed Jesus since the beginning of his ministry. He witnessed the work of John the Baptizer and followed Jesus for three years. He was sent out by Jesus as one of his seventy followers to proclaim the kingdom of God. This man was present at the cross and the resurrection, and now he stands with a handful of believers awaiting the next step in faith.

At this point, Peter stands up and quotes some Old Testament scripture from the Psalms. The Church needed someone to replace Judas after his betrayal and suicide. Two names are put forth. One is Matthias, and the other is Joseph. They cast lots and Matthias is chosen to be one of the twelve apostles.

I always wondered what happened to this lone figure of faithfulness to Jesus and failure in a big selection. There was no sin in his life that we are told existed in him. His only shortcoming was that God had not allowed his name to appear on the lot that was cast. Did he go home that night and cry? Did he live with a sense of failure?

The best research I could find tells me some of the rest of the story. According to tradition, this Joseph went on to become the Bishop of Eleutheropolis. This is a village located about 13 miles northwest of the city of Hebron. It was relatively small and surrounded by farmland, but during the days of Jewish king Herod the town became a thriving Roman colony and was known as the administrative center for the district of Idumea.

The town was renamed over the centuries. Its original Aramaic name Beth Gabra translates as the “house of the mighty one.” The Romans gave it the Greek name, Eleutheropolis, meaning “City of the Free,” because the Roman Emperor exempted its citizens from taxes. The city flourished under the Romans, who built public buildings, military installations, aqueducts, and an amphitheater. Seven routes met at Eleutheropolis indicating the town as a central point from which the distance from other cities was measured.

Joseph Barsabbas Justus went on to become a Church leader in the city of the free. This story of his non-selection to be one of the twelve Apostles was not the end of his story. He did not hang his head in defeat but instead used this incident to propel his life another direction. Some have suggested that he was not chosen by God so that his life would be free to serve him in another location. Because of the importance of Eleutheropolis and its strategic location, Joseph served God in a powerful way that may have never happened if his name had been called that day.

Joseph serves as an example of faithfulness despite setbacks. He may not have been chosen to a position that he was more than qualified to fill, but that was not the end of his story. He made an impact in a different way for the kingdom of God. I don’t know what has happened in your life, but maybe today, Joseph can inspire you to stand faithful to God after coming in second.

When my family moved to Alaska, one of the shows that we regularly watched on the Food Network was Chopped. If you have not seen it, four contestants come into a kitchen to prepare a meal. In each round they are given a basket of mystery items that they are required to put into a plate of food for a panel of judges. Often the mystery items are a real challenge to incorporate into fine dining. The show is fun to watch, and while I rarely see it anymore, I have noticed a host of other shows built on similar concepts.

The reason I share information about that show is that it serves as a great analogy. I read it somewhere, so it is not original to me, that Church leadership is much like a Chopped kitchen. When I graduated from Bible College, I imagined my ministry would be like working in a fine restaurant. Conditions would be perfect with every person knowing their role, and meals would be flawlessly served. Then when I arrived at my first Church, I found a Chopped basket of mystery items. I had to work to make a great meal with often nontraditional ingredients. One part of the challenge was to get every component to work together in a harmonious finished product.

After reading this analogy, I have talked to several people about it, and I have heard the same response. That is what running a small business is like, or coaching a youth sport, or being a teacher, or some form of administration. Numerous jobs require the leader to work with unexpected ingredients to make a quality product.

When it comes to the Church, I find this analogy particularly fitting and vital. God called me as a leader to help build his kingdom with whatever he gives me. There are seasons where the meals are refined and seem very professional and other times when it is more like a mother of three little ones just trying to get something on the plate. The important thing is that every person plays a part in the kingdom of God here in my Church.

One of the things I hate about the modern Church is how most people picture themselves as judges. They want to give the meal their approval or disapproval and rate the performance of those composing the meal. The heart of a true believer is to figure out how to make the best meal for the ultimate judge in heaven and nothing less. The question for everyone who is part of a Church is, “How is my life glorifying God through its presence in this Church?” Your piece may be large or small, and at times it might not seem to fit, but there is always a place for you.