It seems the goal of some preachers is to make their people feel bad every week about something that they are or are not doing.

There are numerous sermons preached where the goal is to confront sin or the absence of righteousness and leave people feeling bad about themselves. And if the preacher has not made everyone a little bit sad, then they have not done their job.

Some take it one step further. If you do not preach on sin and are consistently making people feel bad, then you are “sugarcoating the gospel” or “watering down the message of Jesus.”

I would argue that scripture comes to us in a variety of ways, and preaching should, too. Some of the Bible contains poetry, proverbs, and promises. Some of the scriptures are history, prophecy, and a little mystery. Some of the messages are gospel, grace, and goodness. There are words of encouragement, enlightenment, and education.

Repentance and confession are a massive part of the call for believers, but it is not the only message. Not every sermon needs to make people feel bad about themselves. A feel-good sermon can be equally Biblical and practically required.

This Sunday, I will stand up and share a message of the love of God and the love of one another. I do not desire for people to feel bad about themselves; in fact, I want people to know the love that God and his people have for them.

Be careful about judging the quality of a sermon by its condemnation of sin or apathy. Those are not the only criteria for a good sermon.

The pastor said that he and his wife had two children. Together, they determined that their goal was to have Godly, well-adjusted children by the time each kid turned 35 years old.

He continued by saying they knew their children would have struggles in their teens, search for a career in their twenties, and build a family in their thirties. They also knew their faith would need to mature with them as they search for their own faith community.

What this enabled them to do was stay encouraged when their children were walking through difficult seasons. When having doubts about faith in their late teens, they remembered each one had time to figure this out. When they wanted to change majors in college, they rest assured that there was plenty of time to settle into a career. When their heart was broken over a lost relationship, they were not anxious about their future as they were still learning to love.

This single goal helped them to cope, coach, and encourage their offspring toward the life God desired. He stated that research shows that who you are at 35 is what you will basically remain for the rest of your life.

How would your parenting be different if you focused on age 35 and not 18 or 22 or 25?

As Christians, our most significant act of discipleship is the one we do with our children. This is a lifelong journey that does not end when they go to college or move out of the house.

“I love your sermons. I don’t mind being late each Sunday as long as I can hear the sermon.”

“I am so glad we put the sermons online. That way, I don’t have to miss Church.”

“You are a great preacher. Don’t ever leave because I like coming to Church here.”

These are all statements I have heard this year. I know that all of these are meant to be compliments, and I appreciate the sentiment of kindness directed at me.

But you need to know how I hear it. Here is what I heard in each of these conversations. “I am an immature disciple who likes the Pastor more than Jesus.”

Before you get upset, please hear me out. Pastors like me want to see you connected to Jesus and not to us. We want to see people love to worship the Lord and not hear us preach. Our desire is for people to connect to God and one another every Sunday, even if we are not the ones preaching. All of these statements tell me that you are building your faith on me, and know this: I WILL disappoint you sometime.

My dream as a pastor is to have people who love to come to Church out of a commitment to Jesus and nothing else.

If you think of the Church only in terms of the pastor, then we have failed to do our job.

While I enjoy attending, I do understand conferences are designed with one major flaw. They provide education with no accountability. You can learn volumes and then do nothing with it. There is no one to say, “You know better than that.” As a result, most of the things I have learned over the years are grand theories and ideas kept in various binders and notebooks.

That is the genius of God in the local Church. While it might not always inspire you like a conference, it is a place where people can hold you accountable for what you have learned. Fellow believers can come alongside you to help you implement God’s word as you are transformed to be like Christ.

Of course, the Church is flawed, too, if you treat it like a weekly conference that is meant only to inspire or educate you.

The questions are similar but not the same.

Do you want it to be right?

Do you want it right away?

Immediate results are not always the best long-term decisions. You need to be clear on what type of choices you are making because the future will be here sooner than you think.

I was talking to Caleb, a local minister with a similar background to mine. We talked about ministry, marriage, and our lives. He told me how he was spending most of his free time remodeling the bathroom in their house. We exchanged stories of plumbing nightmares, extended budgets, and unhappy spouses. 

Then he paused and said something like this: “I love it, though. It is good to see a project start and then finish. It is the opposite of ministry.”

I knew exactly what he meant. One of the strains of doing ministry is that you never see a finished product with people. No one shows up a mess, comes to Jesus, develops as a complete disciple, and the person is finished.

Transforming people takes years of teaching, preaching, and discipling. It happens over time through pain, joy, and everything in between. It involves making mistakes, continually struggling with sin, and living in the light of grace. Some people will quit, others will move away, and some will become your biggest advocates.

Ministry for God, both paid and unpaid, is a nonstop job that only ends at the grave. There are many days when I do not know if I am doing any good. The results can be impossible to see. Were my efforts a waste of time, or will something amazing happen? Even when I know the seed gets planted, it will take years for the tree to produce fruit, and I might never see it happen.

Working for Jesus can be frustrating for results-oriented people like me. Faith is not only about believing in God; it is also about trusting that he will take my efforts and use them to bring his work to completion.

I was completely loaded with gear and had over a mile to walk with all the weight. I was pushing myself as I took one small step at a time. When I was about to give up, I stopped to rest and looked back to where I had started this journey. I was more than halfway. I had come a lot farther than I imagined. At that moment, I was encouraged by my progress, and it gave me the strength to keep pushing forward.

Biblically, there are instructions never to look back. Lot’s wife looked back, and she was turned into a pillar of salt. Jesus told his followers that anyone who puts his hand on the plow and looks back is not worthy of his kingdom. Those are examples of looking back with longing. A desire to return to the place we had left. That is not my encouragement today.

I am telling you to look back so that you can gain strength for the journey ahead. Sometimes, it is good to look back, not with a desire to return, but rather to see how far you have come. Take a moment to pause and remember what your life was like when you first came to Jesus. Think through all the changes you have made and how your life looks different today.

Some days, as a Christian, you can be weighed down by the road that lies ahead and forget how far you have come since you started. Occasionally, it is good to recall the path God has led you down and the person you are today.

Keep pressing on; you have come so far. Don’t give up.

Twenty-five years ago, I heard Church consultant Lyle Schaller talk about visiting Churches in an attempt to help them face the future. He said the very first thing I tell everyone is, “All of you are going to move, quit, or die. We cannot count on any of you to be here in the future.”

Although statistics vary based on the location of the Church, the average rate of attrition is around 20% for the local community of believers in the US. That means every year, a Church of 100 people loses around 20 people who are attending today. Reasons for this also vary, but Lyle’s categories are still valid: people move, quit the group, or go to meet Jesus.

Since this is true, for a Church to maintain its current size and ministry, it needs to be adding 20% growth of new people each year. Obviously, some of those people will be moving into your area as others move out. There is also a group who will quit one Church and then join another. So, some of the new people will simply come from a reshuffling of the deck. The rest must come from new converts, or the Church will begin to shrink.

For a Church of 100 people to grow each year, it will need to add at least 25 new people for minimal growth. As the numbers increase, the amount of people coming and going gets staggering.

When I heard Lyle say this, I thought to myself, “Not my Church. Everyone will love what I am going to build, and they will never want to leave.” Sadly, I was wrong. I could not control job changes, retirement, and death. I also had no control over people losing their faith and those choosing to join another Church because they had something more appealing. Slowly, I had to accept the fact that he was correct.

Whenever I hear someone say they are not interested in their Church growing or they wish their Church would stay the same because they love it so much, I know they are dreaming like I used to do. Churches are continually changing, and those who refuse to share their faith with nonbelievers are slowly dying because attrition rates are a real thing.

“Pastor, several people in the Church are upset about what you said on Sunday.”

“Some people here are not happy with the music we have been singing lately.”

“There is a group of people who would prefer that the elders lead the prayer requests.”

Those are all statements that I have heard as a pastor. There was always a group of unnamed people who hid in the shadows and were unhappy about something.

I spent years trying to do things to make “some people” or “a group of people” happy. I hated myself for never being able to do it because that meant many people didn’t like me.

Then, one day, I asked the person telling me this to give me names. I said, “Tell me who these people are, and I will go talk to them.” 

I was shocked when they could not produce a name. Slowly, I discovered that every time a complaint was registered and credited to other people, the only person who seemed upset was the person telling me the issue. I had been chasing after people who did not exist. One person was merely using a plural pronoun to describe their own opinion in an effort to sway me.

Today, if a criticism does not come with a name attached, I immediately dismiss it. I suggest you do the same.

Graduation season is upon us again. That has me reflecting on my high school graduation and the yearbook that accompanied it.

I graduated as part of a class of 125 students. Where I grew up, several small towns were consolidated into one high school. My tiny hometown only had three seniors that year, but I was part of a much larger class.

As an introvert who has always struggled to make friends, it may come as no surprise that my yearbook is empty of anything from my senior year. I was not involved in any sports, clubs, or organizations. I was not elected as “most likely” to do anything. There were no accolades or achievements listed, as I had none. When the books came out, no one signed mine, and no memorabilia was inserted.

At this point in the story, you might be depressed. Don’t be. I view my empty yearbook as a blank slate. Those years did not define my life or my future. They were a stepping stone on the way to what God had in store for me. High school was not my “glory days” that I will spend the rest of my life trying to reattain. They were a fun time that God used to mold and shape me for the next step in my journey with him.

Some people look at their lives and feel a sense of sadness about their lack of accomplishments to this point. What if you turned that thinking over and claimed the years ahead as an opportunity for God to use you in new and exciting ways? Everything up to this point has been preparation for the ministry that lies ahead of you. In Jesus, your past does not define you.

What if, during this graduation season, you saw your future as a blank slate, and you allowed God to write his story with the rest of the pages?