My wife and I have a continual conversation about the people in our Church. This conversation has led us to a few simple truths that we repeat to each other almost daily.

First – We cannot control the actions of others. No matter how poorly we think the decisions they are making, we have no control, and all we can do is point them in the right direction.

Second – They will have to answer to God for their lives. All we can do is preach, teach, and disciple in the ways of Jesus. They will be held accountable for what they did with their time, talent, and resources.

Third – We will also answer to God for what we did. We are trying to do everything possible to help people on their walk with Jesus. God knows we are trying our best even when people ignore us.

Fourth – We have to let things go for us to stay healthy. This is by far the most challenging thing we do. Sometimes, we watch people mess up their lives, lead their children in painful directions, and waste their time and talent. But at the end of the day, we have to let it go emotionally, or it will kill us.

Both my wife and I love people deeply and want to see them live like Jesus. Few of them do, and watching it all transpire is one of the most significant challenges in ministry.

Loss is not a one-time event. It is a process that takes a lifetime.

Recently, I picked up my phone to call my dad. He has been gone for years now, but he was the only person I knew who could help me. His name and number are still on my phone, and it feels like he hasn’t been gone that long.

I stared at the phone and cried for a while.

The feeling of loss comes at moments that I do not expect. They hit hard and cut deep into my soul. I grieve. Then, I move on and try to regain my balance.

Revelation 21 describes heaven. We are told that God will wipe every tear from the eyes of his people, and there will be no more death. Then it goes on to say that there will be no more mourning, crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.

Not only is death removed, but the mourning and crying caused by previous impacts of death will also be removed. Loss takes a lifetime to walk through, but thank God it doesn’t last an eternity.

The conference speaker asked this penetrating question, “How would your community be different if your Church did not exist?”

His question was meant to motivate the Christians listening to do community service. He was seeking to move believers to love their neighbor, show kindness in action, and be a force for good.

I have thought about his words a great deal while reading through the book of Acts. The Church was a dynamic community of faith in those fledgling years, which resulted in their being hated by their towns and villages. People coming to Jesus meant that idol makers lost their jobs, prostitutes would change their employment, bookstores were unable to sell their magic books, and the local police had layoffs as there were few crimes anymore. People hated the local Church because it radically changed the way people behaved and sent shockwaves throughout the community.

Perhaps the measure of a great Church is not how much it is loved but how much it is hated. Not because the people are jerks or unloving, but rather because total transformation is happening. Because lives are being changed, the bars shut their doors as alcohol sales dry up, drug use of all kinds disappears, the police are bored, and the school is unable to schedule anything on Sunday morning or Wednesday night because people refuse to attend. It is a place where people love and take care of one another, causing businesses to close because neighbors freely mow each other’s lawns, care for the sick at home, and assist however needed.

Most communities want a friendly Church that does some good but is not really changing the status quo. I want to be a part of a Church that is hated for all the right reasons.

I was listening to one of my favorite comedians on his podcast talking about his craft. He stated that one of the most challenging parts of his job is always being funny on stage.

Imagine this: one day, you are late to the airport, your flight is delayed, and when you arrive at your destination, you discover that your hotel has significant issues. Finally, you get everything settled, and you Uber through heavy traffic to arrive at the club. Once there, you discover your opener is sick, and you will have to spend extra time in a place that is only half full. Overall, it has been a terrible day. Now your job is to walk on stage and be funny.

While I am a preacher and not a comedian, I do understand what he is saying. Some Sunday mornings, I have things go wrong at home, find problems at Church, have someone complain, worship will not go smoothly, and then I walk up to preach. How do you joyously represent God when nothing has filled you with joy? Truthfully, I am frustrated, angry, and distracted.

Being a light in this world sometimes means putting your best foot forward even when you don’t feel like it. We do it everywhere and every day, in spite of our feelings. One of the most challenging parts of following Jesus is being a Christian all the time, especially when we don’t feel like it.

Sometimes, when I sit down at my computer to write, I draw a blank. I don’t have any new ideas, and the thoughts jotted in my notebook feel flat and uninspiring.

Whenever that happens, I type a phrase at the top of the page and start writing. I find inspiration while I am working. There is no grand epiphany with lights and thunder. There is simply a phrase that makes sense, and I delete everything and use that one piece to build my ideas around.

This principle extends beyond writing. Suppose you are looking for ways to serve the Lord and trying to find precisely how God wants to use you. Then my advice is to start somewhere. Your first attempt at ministry may not be successful, but it may open the door to new possibilities.

Creation starts with doing. Purpose reveals itself through movement, not contemplation. When you feel stuck, remember that being at a blank starting point isn’t a limitation but an invitation. Every path is open, every possibility waiting. The only requirement is to begin.

It is rare that I ever shout or yell during a sermon. Recently, I made an off-the-cuff funny comment during my first sermon and then tried to replicate it during our second program, but people told me that I came off as “angry” instead of funny. It broke my heart that people thought I was mad.

Then, last week, I preached on a topic that was highly emotional to me. I was completely into the sermon, and some people misunderstood my passion and excitement for anger.

Some preachers thrive on shouting at their congregations. Their faces get red, the volume is high, and their words are critical every week. Church members feel like the preacher has not done his job unless people “get their toes stepped on.”

This reminds me that there is more than one way to preach. Just like there is more than one instrument in a band, there must be a multitude of voices speaking for Jesus, with each one striking a different note. Some preachers are bass drums, always loud and dominant, while others are rhythm guitars, helping people stay on time week after week. Some speakers are specialized, like a hammer dulcimer, and others are quiet, like the woodwind section. Every preacher has a place in the kingdom of God.

My fear has always been that people will think of the way I speak as the norm for Christian behavior. If I am angry, then people believe that following Jesus is about being upset all the time and confronting everything of which we disapprove. The congregation will think that loud and aggressive is the way the followers of Jesus act in every situation. Even worse, people may come to view God as angry and judgmental as well.

I want people to value the Bible, solid exegesis and interpretation, relatable illustrations, and practical application. I want people to think the Bible is for them, and they are able to do it and understand it without me. I hope they will see that every passage has some point of application, and the goal is to call people to Christian living.

Some preachers may be angry and shout all the time, but I hope no one views me that way. I dream that people will forget me altogether when the sermon is done and say, “I know the God of the Bible better because I was in Church this Sunday.”

When people do not know the whole story, they fill in the gaps with negative assumptions.

People always assume the worst and not the best in others.

One challenge for Christians is to quiet the negative voices in their heads and look for the best in others. We are to offer encouragement over criticism. We assume the best and fill in the gaps in our knowledge with positive thoughts.

Sometimes, living for Jesus means rewiring our brains so that the stories we tell ourselves are filled with light and not darkness.

This past Sunday, I finished a nine-week sermon series on the story of the Bible. It was a series that required hundreds of hours of reading and listening to trusted teachers to prepare each message. I have not worked this hard mentally for a series in a long time. I spent around 12 hours preparing to write each 30-minute sermon. The last one in the series about the End Times took closer to 20 hours to complete.

With each sermon, I wrote out two or three rough outlines before I landed on what exactly I was preaching. I literally threw away several sermons in the process of editing. One of the messages was about half done when I took my cursor, highlighted a whole page, and hit delete. There is so much more I want to say each week, but the constraints of time only allow me to say so much. Also, studies show us that the more you hear does not equal more retention. A concise sermon is best for both the speaker and the listener, and I know that.

Right before one of the sermons in this series, I sat and prayed quietly, “God, help me say what needs to be said and nothing more.”

If you listen to one of these messages, I am sure you will think, “Why didn’t he say anything about this or that?” Perhaps you will say to yourself, “He should have mentioned this or that passage of scripture.” Believe me, I thought about using those things but chose to say what I felt God was leading me to say to address the needs of my congregation.

No sermon is an exhaustive exploration of any topic or passage; they are an attempt to scratch the surface of the Bible so that people will go home to dig deeper on their own. They are the leaping off point on the things of God that should continue through the week. The goal is never to say everything but to set you up so that your week is learning and living out all the things left unsaid.

The monastics are known for offering a vow of silence. This does not mean that they can never talk; it means they are quiet most of the time, with set hours for them to speak. The goal is to tame the tongue, listen to God, and remove the distractions that stand in the way of their spiritual growth.

Recently, I asked my most trusted advisor about a situation in my life. They responded directly, “You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you learned to keep your mouth shut.”

It hurt a little to hear that, but I know they were correct. I don’t know how to shut up at times. I get started talking, and there seems to be no off switch. I say things that are overly honest, too direct, or come off as harsh. I don’t mean to do it, but the more I talk at times, the worse the situations in my life become.

One commitment I am making to end this year and start next year is to shut my mouth more. I need to listen, ask questions, and learn to be comfortable in the silence. I would not call it “a vow of silence” per se, but it is an opportunity to grow as a person who wants to be more like Jesus.  

As you read through the story of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus, you will notice a theme that keeps appearing. “They crucified two rebels with him, one on his right and one on his left. Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, ‘So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself!’ In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! Let this Messiah, this king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.’ Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him. (Mark 15:27-32 NIV 2011) Over and over, we read that Jesus was insulted and mocked by the crowds, the soldiers, and even those on the crosses beside him. 

Yet, throughout the story, Jesus never returns their insults or is provoked by their mocking. At one point, it seems to infuriate Pilate, who shouts, “Do you refuse to speak to me?” (John 19:10). Matthew’s account says, “But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge—to the great amazement of the governor.” (Matthew 27:14) The Gospel of Mark adds, “The chief priests accused him of many things. So again Pilate asked him, ‘Aren’t you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of.’ But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed. (Mark 15:3-5)

Later, the Apostle Peter will write this, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, about the events he witnessed as he watched the crucifixion from a distance. “When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.” 1 Peter 2:23

In the face of false accusations, lies, insults, threats, and mocking, Jesus made no comment. It doesn’t take much work for me to find the application. How about you?