Two Stories of Poor Behavior - Why motive matters more than rules.

At this time, I would like to thank the Lifehouse youth group with bringing me back down to earth. That is all. Moving on...

I still think Christians ought to ask themselves why they hesitate to talk to their friends and family about Jesus. But how should we look at this from the perspective of grace? I'm not saying you have to tell a certain amount of people about Jesus in order to consider yourself a "good Christian". I want to know why people who experience something as great as salvation wouldn't want to share that with the people around them. 

In the wake of all the discussions I've had since Monday, I'd like to tell two stories. One of them happened and I made up the other. Maybe I won't tell you which is which so you can figure it out for yourself. 

My brother went to Dallas to attend a church leadership and mission school. They had more rules than the Bible. I don't think that's an exaggeration. If you set the rule book next to an NIV, the NIV would look like the Cliff/Spark Notes. One rule said all men had to remain clean shaven. My brother thought this sounded harmless enough until one of the campus leaders ran the edge of a student ID along his cheek to test for stubble. 

Every failure to abide by the rules resulted in demerits. Earning enough demerits could get you kitchen duty or some other kind of Beetle Bailey punishment. My brother and his friends were constantly following rules because they didn't want to scrub burned chicken grease off of pots. 

When I went to visit during my spring break, I knew I didn't have to worry about those rules since I wasn't a student. I walked into morning chapel with my shirt untucked. A buttoned up, smiling man said, "Good morning, brother! You should tuck in your shirt." And like a smartass, I said, "I'm not your brother. And I like how my shirt looks." Later, I walked outside and cut across the lawn toward the parking lot. A campus leader on the sidewalk stared holes through me. "You're not supposed to walk on the grass," he called out. So I obliged. I laid down and barrel rolled the rest of the way to my brother's car. 

I realize I acted like a jerk. But the point is, I didn't have to listen to them. The rules didn't apply to me. 

Much later in life, so much later, I met my future wife at a birthday party. We began talking that night and then talked nearly every night afterward. Within a few months, we decided to start dating. 

That first week of our new relationship, we ran into an old crush of mine. And, like a stupid sitcom actor, I introduced my new girlfriend by saying, "and this is... my friend... Chelsea." Of course the old crush could see the BS all over me and the perturbed look on Chelsea's face. 

Which story do you think is true? I'm curious to see what you say. 

But assuming both stories were true, why would I be more ashamed of the one boneheaded move with Chelsea than breaking every rule on the campus of my brother's school?

The Total Unfairness of Grace - Part five of Questions From The Lifehouse Youth Group.

I know some of the youths at Lifehouse struggle with the concept of grace. I notice when they feel like they haven't been "good enough". I see the look on their faces when confessing something in small groups. I've heard a few talk about observing the Sabbath as if they were wizened Hasidic men arguing over different Rabbinical interpretations. "Nu, does it begin when three or four stars appear in the sky on Friday night?"

So our youth group began reading Terry Virgo's book Enjoying God's Grace, a summarized version of his book God's Lavish Grace. As we talked, the youths asked a lot of questions. We talked for so long parents and younger siblings poked their heads in to gauge how long they would have to wait.

I think our youths expressed widely shared concerns. Teenagers, adults, Christians, we all want to perform well. I'll bet even Stephen Malkmus practices that sweet adolescent crack in his voice. In Enjoying God's Grace, Virgo writes, "The Old Covenant focus was on performance, and Jesus's performance completely satisfied his Father. If God looks on his Son and through him accepts us, how can we gain God's extra approval by returning to a treadmill of dead works? We can't."

People often criticize Christianity as an endless set of rules, and some denominations aren't helping to set the record straight, but I don't think God cares how well we perform or how much we produce. I don't think we'll get a bigger and better golden mansion with hot chocolate fountains in Heaven just because we swore less or refused to drink (let alone enjoy) beer. I have no idea where the concept of Beverly Hills Heaven developed, but I don't buy it.

One of the youths asked if Christians went straight to Heaven after they died or if they would first be judged. As if striving to be good in life wasn't hard enough, he wanted to know if Heaven had a waiting room. I asked him if he remembered the two criminals who died next to Jesus. One of the criminals said they deserved their punishment but Jesus had done nothing wrong. Then the criminal said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom." I asked the youth if he could remember Jesus's reply. The youth couldn't remember. I told him, "Jesus said, 'Today you will be with me in paradise.'"

What did that criminal do to deserve paradise? Nothing. Why did he get to go there? Why does anyone get to go there? It seems unfair, doesn't it? Well, grace is unfair. No one gets what they deserve when it comes to grace because grace by definition is an undeserved gift.

In Jesus's parables, was it fair for the landowner to pay all the workers the same wage, even though some only worked an hour while others worked the entire day? No, it wasn't fair. The man doesn't even argue the point. He simply says, "Don't I have a right to do what I want with my own money?" I can see God saying the same about grace.

Do you struggle with performance? Do you constantly feel like you blew it or that God is disappointed in you?

Do you have a hard time understanding God's total disregard for fairness?

Or do you celebrate it?

A Phony Tactic Or An Authentic Interest? - My struggle with "relevancy" (or Part five of Questions From the Lifehouse Youth Group)

I had a brief but difficult time deciding whether to make this an extension of the previous post or a part in the youth group series. I have decided to do both.

I'm over a decade older than the kids in my youth group. Even though I don't feel old and out of touch (except once when a college student called Wayne's World a "classic movie" as if it belonged on TCM), I realized something one day: I have little to no idea of what my kids are like outside of our meetings. I know one guy loves metal. You should have seen the other kids when he walked in wearing his Job For A Cowboy T-shirt. I know one of the girls likes Journey and Zooey Deschanel. Some of them play basketball. From there on, I'm pretty much clueless.

And like Francis Schaeffer said, shouldn't I know their culture? So instead of complaining about it, I've given a look or a listen to nearly everything they mention. I managed to get through a whole episode of Jersey Shore before I decided I got the gist of it. Glee is a little easier to stomach than the reality shows, but I only like characters in wheelchairs.

This goes beyond pop culture. Sometimes they mention stuff going on in religious culture, but I pretty feel the same way I did about Thousand Foot Krutch when they first formed ten years ago.

I feel like I should keep up with my youth group because I want to know how they think. I want to know where they get their ideas. I want to know what issues they have. I want to take all of this and help them understand why the gospel matters for them in their day-to-day lives.

At the same time, I want to do everything in my power to avoid ending up like this guy, especially when my kids might ask themselves those types of questions.

If you work with kids, or have kids of your own, how do you learn about their culture? I'm up for some pointers.

I Teach More Than I Speak - Part four of Questions From the Lifehouse Youth Group

In my youth group, all those years ago in the 90's, a guy named Tim helped lead during the meeting. He wasn't a pastor, but he had a little more authority than the twenty-something college intern leaders. And on the four or five Sundays when he gave the message, I sat on the edge of my seat. If beanbag chairs have edges.

Did Tim have really compelling, life-changing messages? Yeah, definitely. Was he just young enough to know what music and movies to reference? Enough, sure. But that's not why I got excited to see Tim take the microphone. On those Sundays, I thought to myself, "Oh dang, anything can happen. Five bucks says he accidentally swears again."

As a youth leader myself, I like to think I'm the Tim of the Lifehouse youth group. Yes, I also have accidentally sworn during a meeting. Apparently Apples To Apples can occasionally pull the "D" word out of me. This past Wednesday, I learned of one huge difference between Tim and myself. Tim may have been a bit of a wild card and have fun with the youths, but he also had great leadership in his teaching.

The elder who oversees the Lifehouse youth group was away on business and gave me the responsibility of leading the meeting. We planned on beginning a series on grace, but I let myself get so busy I forgot to plan an actual message.

My solution? Buy candy as an object lesson, give a three paragraph explanation of the difference between grace and mercy, then ask "any questions?" Guess how many questions I got? Not as many as I needed to fill time. Mostly crinkling Starburst wrappers and smacking noises. Instead of pulling more teaching out of thin air, I decided the best thing to do was play games for an hour and a half.

James 3:1 says, "Let not many of you become teachers, my brothers, knowing that as such we will incur a stricter judgment." I used to read that passage and tell myself he was talking to people who thought they wanted to be teachers, but it applies to anyone. Even if you don't want to be a teacher, think about how much advice you give, or think about how people might watch what you do and adopt your traits. We're always teaching, even if we're not speaking.

Now, I thought I was doing the right thing and not imparting half-thought-out teaching to impressionable teenagers, but I forgot that people teach way more than they speak. Did the youths learn more from how I forgot to pray before the message? Did they learn that having fun is more important than digging into the subject of grace? I don't know, but I hope not.

Thankfully, verse 2 of James 3 says, "For we all stumble in many ways. If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to bridle the whole body as well." So I didn't get a hit this time at the plate. I've taught at least one good message out of the three I've now given, and that's a good average in baseball terms. I'm still learning. That's why church leadership only has me pinch hitting once in a while. They don't just forgive me for the blunders, they keep giving me opportunities.

Now that's a gift I don't deserve. I wonder if maybe I learned more about grace from this experience than any of my youths.

Have you ever found yourself on the spot and unprepared? How did you handle it?

America's Biggest Religion - Part three of Questions From the Lifehouse Youth Group

It wasn't long ago I used to work at an old folk's home. I had some co-workers who found out about my faith and began to ask me questions. Some of them were simple, like, "Did God really flood the earth?" Some were sort of funny because I didn't expect them, like, "Do you think God could be a woman?" Once in a while, maybe most of the time, I got a serious question that turned into a lunch break-long discussion.

During one dinner shift, a cook went into some fit about churches getting tax breaks and said America's biggest religion didn't need it. "Christianity isn't America's biggest religion," I said.

He stopped and looked at me. "Really? What do you think it is?"

"Sex. More people worship that than Jesus." I think I said it because I knew he was a sex addict and I wanted to shake him up.

Fast forward to a youth group meeting where we got into a discussion about worship and idolatry. One of the girls asked, "What idol do you think people worship most?"

And because half of what I say is rehearsed to death, the word "Sex" began to form in my mouth when two things happened. First, I saw the look on my wife's face because she knew what I wanted to say. Second, I realized it wasn't the right answer. So instead, I told the girl, "Ourselves."

Of all the idols we worship instead of Jesus, I think we worship ourselves. Yeah, sex plays into that. But so does food, relationships, entertainment, and even religious activities like going to church. We do whatever we want to make ourselves feel good.

I wonder if some people hate themselves because something about their looks or personality doesn't please the idol of Self. Does that make sense? Can people hate themselves because they actually love themselves too much? Could it be such a person unconsciously knows they make for a poor god, unworthy of the worship it demands?

After all that, I don't want you to read this and think I'm promoting a new asceticism. Jesus told his disciples not to worry about themselves, but instead to seek God's kingdom first and He would give them everything they needed for their joy and happiness. I don't think Jesus meant, "Don't eat or wear clothes, but worship God," but rather, "Worship God, and you find your contentment and joy in Him."

What do you think is America's biggest religion?

"What Made You Want To Worship God?" - Part two of Questions From the Lifehouse Youth Group

My wife, Chelsea, used to manage a coffee shop in Franklin. Before she left for her new job, she hired a sixteen year old girl who lives near the shop. During her first training shift, the girl said she was interested in learning more about Jesus. This sort of stunned Chelsea because they had only just finished going over how to make Gelato. Nobody handed anyone else a wordless book. Chelsea encouraged her to keep asking questions and invited her to church one week.

After a few visits to Sunday services and Youth Group meetings, Chelsea invited the girl to our house to hang out. When they arrived at our house, Chelsea excused herself into the other room. I think I was writing a weblog post at the time, not really paying attention to the teenager I had just greeted. The girl sat down on the other end of our couch and asked, "So what made you go from believing God exists to wanting to worship Him?" I'm not sure she realized I was wearing headphones, so I had to ask her to repeat herself.

"What made you go from believing God exists to wanting to worship Him?"

Having had no time to think about it, I started rambling about the time I began taking Him seriously in prayer and study. Ugh, forty-five minutes of frantic storytelling about stuff that didn't much answer her question. While prayer and study did have something to do with my conversion experience, the simple answer could have been, "When I understood that God is more than real, He's active."

The Civil War was real. Long Division is real. But either those things are either history or they require you to do all the work yourself. In the past, I might have compared my faith to long division. It existed before I did, it's more complicated than I think it is, and it does me no good unless I make it work for me. Like that moral to Aesop's Fable which some people confuse with a Bible verse, "God helps those who help themselves".

The truth is, God moves when He wants and how He wants. Yes, an answer to prayer does mean that I pray first. And learning something from the Bible means I have to read it first. But I also think God created a desire in me to talk to Him and study His word. Besides, He's moved in my life and the lives of people in my family without anyone even thinking to ask. When he rescued my brother from a life of total destruction, when he healed me of a decade long dairy allergy, when he gave my parents the idea to listen when we prayed together as a family, He showed Himself alive and at work.

Realizing God was more than a story or a specter to fear if I misbehaved made me look at Him in a completely different way. He became bigger, wiser, more gracious, and so on. I began to see myself as more selfish, foolish, and bad-tempered. Verses in Psalms began to make more sense. "What is man that you take thought of him, and the son of man that you care for him?" (Psalm 8:4) " O Lord, what is man, that you take knowledge of him? Or the son of man, that you think of him?"


And yet God sent Jesus to bear the burden of our punishment. He doesn't need me, but He still decided to rescue me and adopt me into His family.

That's why I want to worship Him.

"Where Did Sin Come From?" - Part one (?) of Questions From the Lifehouse Youth Group

My wife and I help lead the youth group at Lifehouse Church. I've been doing this for about two and half years, Chelsea joining soon after we started dating. For a long time, the group only had five youths, three of them siblings. We played games and went on trips and studied cool books like Crazy Love, but nothing seemed to spark real excitement in the group. Then we began studying Wayne Grudem's Bible Doctrine. By this time, our church moved into two locations and we met a few teenagers from the Spring Hill area. Then our youth group more than doubled.

I mean, twelve teens might not seem like a lot to the seasoned youth group leader, but for us, it was a little dizzying.

I don't know if I can credit this all to the church now having a location in Spring Hill or if it's because we're digging into questions regarding deep truth, but the  conversations during meetings have changed dramatically. We're discussing Common Grace, Sin, Prayer, the Trinity, the Gospel, and the like. And I'm learning something from them about how I lead a discussion. First of all, nothing makes you feel so much like a dope when you ask a question and hear silence from a room full of teens. But instead of accusing them of disinterest, I try to figure out ways to ask questions about the topic so they want to answer.

It's one big reason why I've changed how I do things on this weblog. Not that you're a bunch of teenagers.

The kids also teach me how to ask good questions by, well, asking me good questions. During our discussion on Sin, one of the girls asked, "But where did sin come from?"

How beautifully simple. So I said, "From rules." Only after I said it did I think about it. Paul seems to say as much on his explanation of sin in Romans. Sin didn't exist on earth until God told Adam and Eve "Don't eat that fruit." That's not to say I think God gave men sin by giving them a rule. I mean to say that God created men with a will that would sin. The Fall may have easily happened if God said, "make sure to eat that fruit every day" because the serpent might have countered with, "Aren't you a little full?" and we'd be in the same mess.

I may be wrong. I may be only partially right. But where do you think sin came from? Do you even think sin is real (I'm looking at you, relativist reader)?

Humility - Or how I got over myself and learned to love the youth group

Some days, I wonder why people in my church encouraged me to become a youth leader. I didn’t want to do it at first. After praying about it, though, I felt that God wanted me to take this responsibility. For my first few months on the team, I felt horrendously uncomfortable. I thought, “don’t these people realize I might corrupt their children?” One of the kids came to church wearing a Slipknot hoodie and I made him a mix of Darkest Hour songs because they’re a better band. It didn’t occur to me until later that his mom might not be cool with me giving him that sort of music. Then again, she might think nothing of it. The point is, I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave around people ages 12-18.

Two weeks ago, I led my first discussion at a youth meeting. The topic of the day was humility. “Am I really qualified to lead this discussion?” I thought. “Because I think I’m pretty awesome and that seems to disqualify me outright.” As I prepared my questions for the night, I asked God for help. “I don’t know what to say to them about humility. It’s something we’re told to do but nobody defines how to be humble. Like, is it really only the absence of pride?”

Thankfully, God answered.

Humility first begins with understanding our proper place in creation. God is the ultimate, perfect, and self-sufficient being. We are His creation, given dignity because we are made in His image. Even though He gave man authority in nature (Gen. 1:28-30), man’s authority still came from and was accountable to God. We can see this in how He set boundaries of right and wrong for man. In every covenant that God made with man, God set the terms without negotiation. I’ve told people that the true sin of Adam and Eve came from the lie that they might be “like God” (Gen. 3:5). They wanted to define good and evil for themselves, to have a say in what God determined. The world has suffered the consequences ever since.

As a child, I often thought about the paradox that pride was sin and yet parents could still be proud of their children. Pride was wrong, but I could still take pride in doing well in school. In order to stop thinking about it, I started to compartmentalize good pride from bad pride, mixing the black and white together in a comfortable grey. Without knowing it, my elementary mind had begun to accept Hegelian synthesis as a reasonable answer. It may have given me an excuse to stop defining my terms, but it also left me with undefined words. Pride and humility had no true meaning except what I declared based on my perception. The only reason I didn’t see my attitude as relativistic was because other people often agreed with my standards.

But that Sunday night before the youth meeting, God pointed me to a teaching by Terry Virgo. In the final section of a four part series, Virgo talked about false humility. Exodus 2:11-14 tells the first story of Moses as an adult. “Now it came about in those days, when Moses had grown up, that he went out to his brethren and looked on their hard labors; and he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his brethren. So he looked this way and that, and when he saw there was no one around, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. He went out the next day, and behold, two Hebrews were fighting with each other; and he said to the offender, ‘Why are you striking your companion?’ But he said, ‘Who made you a prince or a judge over us? Are you intending to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?’ Then Moses was afraid and said, ‘Surely the matter has become known.’”

Think about this. Moses was a prince of Egypt, a powerful nation who considered its pharaoh as a god. It’s possible that Moses went down among the Hebrews because he wanted to identify with his own people. But to do that, he may have gone undercover. Why else would the one Hebrew say, “Who made you a prince or a judge over us?” If Moses came in his royal clothes, obviously a prince of Egypt, this question would make no sense coming from a slave. When he killed the Egyptian, it seems Moses wanted to act as a protector or deliverer for his people. But again, the question of “Who made you…” implies a kind of contempt. As if to say, “Some hero you are. You’re just a killer.”

Pharaoh learns of the murder and seeks to kill Moses, but Moses runs away to the land of Midian and becomes a shepherd. Children were shepherds. That’s like a man opening a lemonade stand for forty years. Then one day, Moses sees a bush in flames. That’s not so strange, considering the desert sun sometimes causes dry plants to burn. But these flames didn’t consume the bush. After forty years of drudgery, you’d pay attention to little things like that. Of course, as the story goes, God speaks to Moses and tells him in Exodus 3:10, “Therefore, come now, and I will send you to Pharaoh, so that you may bring My people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt.”

Hey Moses! You wanted to be a hero to your people. Now’s your chance. But Moses says, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?” This response echoes what the slave told Moses before he fled Egypt. “Who do you think you are?” It seems that Moses has answered with, “Nobody.” Moses spends so much time telling God that he’s the wrong man for the job he forgets that God is offering the fulfillment of the dream. He also misses the part in Exodus 3:8 where God says, “I have come down to deliver them from the power of the Egyptians”. God’s doing the work, Moses only has to go and send the message. Instead, Moses protests and God gets pissed.

At first glance, it may seem that Moses displayed humility in his question, “Who am I?” But Virgo points out that this humility was a cover for disobedience. In many ways, it sounds like the lie Adam and Eve bought in Eden. What Moses really meant was, “I know better, God. I can determine between right and wrong just like you and I say you’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t want to do this.” Moses didn’t properly recognize God’s supremacy and his own place in creation. False humility is really a passive aggressive pride. It’s sin.

Now let’s look at Jesus. You may see some parallels with the story of Moses. God the son came down to earth and became human to act as our deliverer. Like the quarrelsome slave, most people didn’t recognize Jesus as the Messiah and treated him with contempt. But when God told Jesus to go to the cross and offer salvation to those enslaved in sin, He went in obedience. Of course it was agonizing. Of course it was humiliating. But then Jesus got up. As one writer put it, “He arose victorious”. God won and got the glory.

This leads me to believe that true humility comes out of obedience, where we recognize God’s authority and submit to it. That doesn’t mean we reject God’s pleasure in us, or like Moses try to diminish our calling. We can be proud when it comes to doing what God wants. Sometimes dad lets us hold the flashlight while he works on the car. Even though he’s doing all the work, don’t you feel awesome having taken part in the job?

So maybe I shouldn’t worry about my “qualifications” as a youth leader. Maybe I should be happy that I’m doing what God wants and trust that He picked the right man. It sure makes Sunday night more fun when I’m not so self-focused.