In the Zone

Let me share a pet peeve with you. I hate seeing nativity scenes depicting the wise men at the manger. I know.  I'm a Christian and a pastor and I probably shouldn't use words like hate, but it aggravates me to see the wise men standing over baby Jesus.  I'm even willing to forgive the fact that there were probably more than three and that they weren't really kings. But I have a hard time seeing them there with the baby Jesus. Because they weren't.  Scripture is clear the wise men came to Jesus' house.  Time had passed, probably as much as two years.  Yet, churches everywhere put the nativity up and there are the three wise men, dressed like kings, presenting baby Jesus with their gifts. I really should get past this, but I can't. Here's why. As believers in Christ, we should know better.  We have the scriptures to guide us, but we let culture interfere.  We let popular songs and traditions override what the book of Matthew says. And perh

We get a lot of messages at Christmas. I opened my mail box the other day and was bombarded with them.  Flyers advertised the latest sales.  Christmas cards shared greetings from friends and family.  Letters pleaded with us to give to various causes.  Newspapers told stories of Christmas events. Even television inundates us with commercial messages about Christmas, letting us know when, where, and how to buy certain products.  The news programs tell us about the hottest gifts.  Christmas specials encourage us to buy more, spend more and give more. It seems we get all sorts of messages this time of year. The shepherds received a message that first Christmas too.  In Luke 2, we read that an angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shown around them.  The event must have lit the sky brighter than any man-made bulb ever could. The message that night had nothing to do with spectacular light displays, fabulous savings or amazing decorations.  It was about a litt

I remember when my daughter was first born. Amid the excitement and joy came an overwhelming feeling.  This baby, which I held in my hands, was now my responsibility.  When she got sick, needed feeding, required a diaper change, or had to be corrected and taught, those responsibilities fell to me as her father.  In a matter of a few minutes, I had been entrusted with a new life on planet earth. Looking back on that day six years ago, I was excited but scared.  Yet, that is nothing compared to the responsibility Joesph must have felt.  Joseph was a righteous man, according to scripture, and he knew one thing for certain - Jesus was not his biological son.  Thus, he planned to divorce Mary quietly and be rid of the whole matter. And before we vilify Joseph, know that he could have done much worse.  By law, Mary could have been stoned to death.  His divorce was a form of mercy.  She would live and he would be rid of the stigma of an unfaithful fiance. Before Joseph put his plan in

In the clip from the movie "Elf" (one of the few Christmas movies I really like), Buddy the Elf, played by Will Ferrell, gets great news:  Santa is coming.  In fact, he screams out in joy at the prospect of seeing Santa. There is true excitement.  He jumps and screams and can't wait to tell everyone (including fellow workers at the store) that Santa is coming.  A few scenes later, we see him decorate the store in preparation for the big arrival. Buddy is excited. Contrast that with Mary from Luke 1:26-38. In Luke 1, an angel appears and lays out God's plan for her.  He tells her that the Messiah is coming and she's been chosen to be his mother.  She will carry and birth the son of God. Mary, who is probably around 14 years old at the time, isn't too thrilled with this news initially.  We know from scripture that she's a virgin, but that doesn't make her naive.  She knows where babies come from.  She would be well versed in the birds and bees.

A few years ago, I begrudgingly did what I hate doing. It was Thanksgiving Day, and in the middle of the first football game, I had to leave to go with my father-in-law to pick up something from the local Big Lots.  Apparently, they had bought a new bed and it was available to pick-up that day.  We were in town, so I got drafted for duty. It pained me to go to the store.  I hated it and I wanted no part of it.  I also wanted to be a dutiful son-in-law so I swallowed my pride and went to the store. Nothing of great consequence happened.  We picked up the bed and he bought something else while he was there.  But deep down, I felt sick.  I knew by shopping on Thanksgiving Day I would become a statistic that would lead to a trend.  Already, I saw stores creeping ever closer to being open on Thanksgiving Day. Now, as Thanksgiving approaches, stores everywhere are open starting at 6 p.m. on Thanksgiving Day.  Our national day to pause, pray and give thanks to the Lord has now becom

I faced a critical choice on my summer missions assignment after my senior year of college. I served on the Florida Reach Team, which was a group of teams made up of four college students that traveled the state of Florida assisting churches each week.  Some weeks we ran vacation Bible school.  Other weeks we canvassed communities.  At one church, we even participated (and preached) in the revival services. Well, a few weeks into my service, I wanted to quit.  I had never been away from home, and this was my third week.  Believe it or not, especially in my younger years, I could be hard to get along with.  I was somewhat shy.  That made making friends difficult.  Now, three weeks in my with team (and seven more to go), I struggled with my place. I sat alone in a room, having felt shut out again from my teammates' activities.  The other three got along great.  I felt out of place.  I didn't feel appreciated, welcome or even considered part of the team.  So I contemplated

When I was in high school, I prayed selfishly.  I lay in bed and offered up my "wish list" to God, often specifically listing what I wanted him to do. I wanted a nice car, a girlfriend, good grades, and to go to college.  And not just any college either.  I wanted to go to a college far away from home, or at least as far as I could afford. Every night, just like clockwork, I would pray for the same things over and over and over again.  I would get specific with God.  I wanted an 'A' on a paper.  I wanted to date a particular girl.  I wanted to go to any school but Northern Kentucky University, which was the local college literally 15 minutes down the expressway. It was always about me and rarely about anyone else and especially not about what God wanted.  Oh, sure, I'd frame it that way.  I remember praying, "Lord, send me to whatever school you want me to attend. I trust you. But please send me anywhere but NKU.  Lord I want to go away to school.  Plea

I walked into the church on what I assumed was a typical Sunday morning. I don't know what I expected, but I certainly didn't expect this.  The building, which had always been a bigger church in the community, sat nearly empty.  On the first few pews, a small gathered group of people met for worship. My wife and I were greeted as we sat down for worship.  The pastor got up and introduced us to the 30 or so people in the room.  It felt awkward. You see, a week or so prior, the pastor had approached me, out of the blue, about becoming the youth pastor of the church.  There would be a very small part-time salary, but not much else and not much in the way of resources.  He didn't know it, but God has been working on me about ministry.  It seemed like a divine moment. Until I got to the church.  Immediately, upon seeing the small group of people, I realized something wasn't right.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but I sensed this church was not doing well.  Su

Have you been following the story out of Houston about pastor's being issued subpoenas for sermons and other communications with church members? As I read this , it is pretty scary stuff.  Just to give you a cliff notes version, the Houston City Council passed an ordinance that prohibits businesses with public bathrooms from denying people access to either gender's bathroom.  To put it simply, if they choose, a guy can use a women's bathroom and vice-versa.  It was a bill intended to give transgender people the option to use either bathroom. Obviously, push back occurred and churches led the charge.  They filed a petition to get the issue on the ballot, which was dismissed a midst charges of fraudulent signatures.  The opposition then sued to get the petition validated with led to legal filings.  Part of the legal filings included the city attorney filing subpoenas with five local pastors asking for sermons and any other communications regarding homosexuality, transgend

One day, when I worked at Jiffy Lube, a customer came in complaining of a horrible smell in her car.  It wasn't oil related, but we weren't very busy, so we agreed to take a look. I'm not mechanically inclined, but several of the other employees were.  (Thank goodness because it was an oil change place.)  They looked under the hood.  They checked all the fluids, the hoses, the brakes and the under carriage of the car.  They found nothing wrong. The smell, however, was persistent.  Sometime definitely smelled funky. Finally, after much prodding and poking, someone pinpointed the odor.  It came from the grill of the car.  After a few minutes, we found the culprit.  A bird had flown up into the radiator and died.  The rotting smell came from it's decay as the radiator heated up.  It carried that smell through the vents of the car. Once the dead bird was removed, the smell disappeared. This parallels what Jesus says about the church at Sardis in Revel

As part of my sermon prep, I recently read an article on Bart Campolo. Bart is the son of Tony Campolo, a pastor and author.  Yet, a few years ago, Bart, who followed in his father's footsteps, espoused his Christian beliefs.  He embraced a secular humanist worldview.  He now serves as the secular humanist chaplain at the University of Southern California. In his role as chaplain, Bart does many of the pastoral care roles church pastors and staff do today. According to this Huffington Post article , he envisions a secular humanist community that embraces many of the same services and practices churches engage in today.  He wants to offer inspirational talks, uplifting music, pastoral visits and even potluck dinners. It sounds a lot like church without Christ. Now, I'm going to tell you, I'm not afraid of that.  I'm not afraid of the secular humanist movement, or any other movement, that seeks to resemble church while promoting a different Gospel.  I believe in

If you've seen the movie The American President, you'll remember this quote : "In the absence of genuine leadership, they'll listen to anyone who steps up to the microphone. They want leadership. They're so thirsty for it they'll crawl through the desert toward a mirage, and when they discover there's no water, they'll drink the sand.” It comes at a pivotal point in the film, when the President's aide is asking him to step up and show leadership.  He wants him to lead the country and stop hiding in the shadows. The same is true for the church today and our doctrine.  For too long, we have hidden in the shadows.  We need leaders to step and lead and teach proper doctrine. That's the gist of Jesus' message to the church at Pergamum in Revelation 2:12-17.  They had done really well at keeping the faith, including enduring the loss of their pastor to martyrdom, but false doctrine was creeping into their congregation.  False teachi

A few years ago, I heard about a youth pastor who purposely took his students to Gay Day at Disney World. Every year, he would find out when Gay Day would be at the Magic Kingdom.  Then, he would plan a youth group trip to Disney World specifically for that day.  He would take the students to the park, expose them to something extremely counter-culture to their faith, and afterwards, he debriefed them about their experience. His rationale was this:  He wanted to expose them to worldly behavior so he could walk through what they had seen from a scriptural point of view.  He reasoned that it was best to expose them to lewd behavior now, while he and other parents and adults could talk through the process, than to wait for them to get to college or the real world and experience it with no Biblical context whatsoever.  He didn't want college professors and fellow students to be their only point of reference for sorting it out. I was never that bold, but I admire what he did.  He

We live in a very selfish society. Technology, conveniences and marketing campaigns have all fueled our desires to have whatever we want however we want.  Companies create customizable apps for smart phones.  Banks offer flexible account options. Stores match consumer prices and coupons. Restaurants make substitutions. It's all in the name of pleasing the customer, getting repeat business and offering people what they want. There's nothing wrong with that.  However, somewhere along the line, we've grown selfish. If the fast food drive-thru lane is too slow, we complain and yell at cashiers. If we can't customize our order, we chose not to shop.  If something doesn't go our way, we pitch a fit. And when asked why we lashed out in anger or frustration, we shift the blame and justify our actions. That's exactly what Jonah did. In Jonah chapter 4, we see Jonah after the great Nineveh revival.  The Ninevites have repented and God has relented of his destr

Have you ever gotten help where you least expected? May be it was a person who never had a kind word for you who helped you out in a financial time of need. Perhaps a hardened family member showed up to provide a should to cry on. Possibly a stranger stopped by while you were stranded on the side of the road and allowed you to use their phone or helped fix your car. It's always neat to get an unexpected surprise. My heart is warmed by stories of strangers who stop to help others, even at great cost to their own lives. It shows that God is always working to restore what was lost in his creation when sin entered the world. As I ponder the story of Jonah, a question pops into my mind:  Why did God send a fish? Certainly God could have provided a rescue by other means.  He is God.  He could send a boat, a plank of wood or even a great wind to get Jonah back to shore. Instead, he sends a great fish to swallow him whole. That's a strange mode of rescue, but it's jus

On May 14, 1988, Larry Mahoney made a poor decision. Mahoney drank too much alcohol and then decided to get behind the wheel of his pick-up truck.  In his inebriated state, Mahoney drove north on the southbound lane of Interstate 71, eventually colliding head-on with a church bus returning from a youth outing at the King's Island amusement park. As a result of the crash, the bus burst into flames. Cut off from the exits, 27 people lost their lives and an additional 34 others were injured.  Only six people came away from the crash uninjured.  With injuries and fatalities combined, it is considered the worst bus crash in the history of the United States. Mahoney was convicted of 27 counts of manslaughter and served almost 11 years in jail. Sin has consequences. As a consequence of Mahoney's poor decision to drink and drive, he caused a fatal accident, injured himself and served a decade of prison time.  Not only that, but he must live with the result of his poor decis

"I'm running away." I can remember uttering that as a child often.  Anytime I didn't like a parental decision, fought with my brother or just didn't get my way, I'd grab a backpack full of toys, sling it over my shoulders and declare my independence.  I'd yell that famous phrase as I'd leave out the door, walk to the porch and never really leave to go anywhere. As human beings, we have a desire to run from the problems we face in life.  When something becomes to difficult or takes place out of our comfort zone, our tendency is to leave the situation. We run from our problems, our responsibilities and our commitments.  Sometimes with little or no notice. That's exactly what Jonah did. In Jonah 1, God gave Jonah an order.  Go to Nineveh, Israel's enemy, and deliver a message.  Tell them of their imminent destruction.  Prophecy against the nation to the very people who live there. You see, God wanted Jonah to get personally involved.  

All freedom has limits. I hope you know that.  In order to be a truly free society, we must have rules that limit some of our freedoms.  Otherwise, you'd have nothing but chaos, disorder and anarchy. No rules means anything goes.  If anything goes, than he or she with the biggest posse or weapons rules.  That's not freedom.  That's tyranny. So freedom has limits. For instance, I have the freedom of speech but can't shout fire in a crowded room.  I have the freedom of the press, but I can't publish lies about people without facing the consequences.  I have the freedom of assembly, but I can't destroy public property.  I have the freedom to drive, but must obey the designated speed on the road (or pay for a ticket if I don't.) We have freedoms, but we also have restrictions and limits to our freedoms to ensure that everyone is safe and free. Our freedom in Christ is no different.  Yes, we are free from the law. Keeping the law will not provide salvat

We're a label society. We love putting labels on people.  Sometimes we even enjoy putting labels on ourselves. Homosexual, Emo, Stay-At-Home mom, homeschooler, executive, autistic, handicapped, ADHD, Geek. These are all labels we take upon ourselves or we let others place upon us. Eventually they become our identities.  We think of ourselves first and foremost by what people see us as.  Our sexuality or job status or our disease defines who we are.  We segregate, promote and celebrate or lament those labels.  It becomes who we are. But that's not what Jesus intended. In Galatians 2:15-21, Paul writes to address an issue that came up at the Council of Jerusalem. There a group of Jewish believers taught that new Gentile Christians had to conform to the Jewish way of worship, including circumcision and Kosher laws. Paul argues that our identity is not in our heritage or religious background.  Our identity is in Christ.  We sacrifice who are with Christ.  He becomes o

The truth is the truth is the truth is the truth. That's what I heard often from professors as I studied to get my journalism degree.  People could complain about a story or being presented in a bad light, but if the story was true, it didn't matter.  The truth is always true, even if we or others don't like what the truth is.  If someone is guilty, they are guilty.  Plain and simple. Perhaps that's why we have such a hard time with the truth.  We don't like what the truth often says.  It's not always pleasant.  It doesn't always tell us what we want to hear. So, despite what we say, we sometimes prefer a lie to the truth.  We'd rather feel better about ourselves than deal with the hard truth of the situation.  We'll proudly take on labels and designations that allows us to be identified with a group of people.  Belonging makes the truth easier. At least we're not alone. Jesus, though, said truth, not labels or sin, should define us.  We

When I was a newspaper reporter, we used to have this kind of unofficial contest among the news office.  As we would write stories and captions for stories, we’d always try to come up with a new vocabulary word to use in the paper. It sort of became this one-upmanship amongst us.  Yeah, it was kind of nerdy, but we were all writers, so this was the equivalent of playing horse in basketball. Every week, someone would try a new word in a story in attempt to gain this weekly crown.  One week, one of our writers used the word CADRE.  She wrote that a cadre of police officers gathered on the scene. The editor didn’t want her to use the word.  She didn’t think it fit.  So the writer defined the word.  CADRE:  An elite or elect group that forms the core of an organization and is capable of training new members. A cadre of police officers certainly fit the definition.  The word ended up in the story and never got dethroned as the best word used in a s

A few years ago, Sara and I had a scare. It was a Wednesday evening and my chest had been hurting on and off all day.  What's worse, I was having troubling breathing.  Just to take the stairs left me extremely winded.  Feeling exhausted, I confided in Sara about how I felt.  I was run down, extremely tired, having trouble breathing and my chest was pounding. She didn't hesitate to make a call.  Even though it was a church night, we were going to the hospital.  RIGHT NOW.   As I got into the car, it wasn't even a debate.  I wasn't stopping by the office or lining up a lesson for a substitute.  I was going straight to the emergency room.  No passing Go.  No collecting $200.  When I got to the ER, I was immediately taken back to a room.  No waiting in chairs for an hour trying to get an empty bed.  Within five minutes, I was on a gurney, my shirt was off, and instruments of various types were being hooked up to me.  They measured heart rate, blood pressur

My mom likes to tell this story: When I was a kid, we went camping.  We stayed at this camp ground and I always wanted to get my big wheel out for a joy ride.  Well, finally, my parents granted my request.  I got my big wheel, but I had to stay in sight.  That lasted all of five minutes.  Before you knew it, I was flying down a big hill and blasting away from my parents, all the while my mother is running after me. I don't remember that story, but I've heard my mom tell it plenty of times.  I relate it to you to remind you of disobedience.  We are all, at our heart, disobedient.  We don't like to follow the rules or do what we're told.  We test boundaries.  We push limits.  We see what we can get away with. It's part of our human nature to disobey.  We're hard-wired to do it.  It started with Adam and Eve and continues into the present day. Yet, here's the thing.  In Hebrews 5:7-9, the writer of Hebrews writes that Jesus had to learn obedience

Goodbye.  The word is so final.  While the origin of the word come from the idea of "God be with you" it still feels final.  We say goodbye because we don't expect to see the other person again.  Goodbyes are hard to do. I have always preferred the word farewell.  Farewell literally means I hope you fare well in life until we meet again.  That doesn't feel so final to me.  It suggests a reunion.  We will meet again and I hope until then, you fare well. Whenever I leave a place or a person, I bid them farewell.  As a believer in Jesus, I believe in reunions.  I know that I will see other believers in Jesus again.  That may be here on earth.  It may be in the life to come.  But make no mistake, if you are a believer in Jesus, I will see you again.  Death is not the end.  Life is eternal. So I always say "farewell." In 2 Corinthians 13:11, Paul concludes his letter.  The New King James, I think, puts it best.  "Finally, brethren, farewell. Become

As a soccer coach of five-year-olds, practices can some times be rough. Frustrating might be a better word. A lot of times the players don't listen.  They're playing tag or hugging or picking weeds.  Distractions capture their attention.  A helicopter or plane flies over head and every eye darts skyward.  A loud motorcycle or a police car with sirens blaring forces their gaze toward the highway and away from the goal.  One child heads to the bathroom and soon two more need to go as well. It takes a lot of patience to teach U5 soccer.  It also requires a lot of examples.  I learned this the hard way at my last practice. To be honest, I struggle as a coach.  I never played soccer.  I'm just a dad who likes spending time with his daughter and giving back.  So when I see other teams using more advanced techniques--like passing and defense--I try to emulate those things in practice.  I want our kids to compete and learn. So, this past week, I tried a couple of passing

When I was a kid, I was fascinated by magic and magicians.  I remember buying toy magic kits and checking out magic trick books from the library.  Occasionally, I would try to show off the tricks I learned to my parents and friends. I'm a youth pastor now, so you can rightly assume I never got very good at magic.  Outside of a few easy tricks, I never could pull if off enough to fool people with my sleight of hand. And that's the thing about magic:  it's not real.  It's all a series of illusions made to focus your attention AWAY from what is really happening.  We marvel at how trained magicians pull off tricks we can't understand.  Yet, all they are doing is simply getting us to look, think or concentrate on one particular thing while they do the trick somewhere else. It's all about fooling our mind (or eyes).  Often, the trick itself is quite easy, once it's explained.  Yet, it looks so amazing that we often spend hours trying to figure out how the t

Our society is all about self.  Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Vine and YouTube is all about promoting ourselves.  We want more followers, frequent re-tweets, lots of web hits and tons of friends to join the conversation.  Our thoughts and phrases and pictures are so important that we put everything out there for everyone to see.  We even created a new word about pictures of ourselves.  Selfies are all the rage. We are all about ourselves. We seek good self-images.  We want healthy self-esteem.  We're looking for self-worth.  We engage in self-promotion.  We talk about the need for self-respect. Are you starting to notice a pattern here? In all this self-glorification, we sometimes go too far.  Sometimes our desire to please us goes to the need for others to praise us.  We become self-important and self-conscious and we value our worth by what others say about us. We become more about pleasing people than pleasing God. Make no mistake, though, God is a jealou

Last week, I performed a funeral for my aunt Karen, who passed away suddenly. As I prepared the message, I talked with family about their memories and stories of Karen's life.  Each person I talked to have a positive word, a funny anecdote or a pleasant recollection of their departed loved one.  I incorporated those stories into the message.  You see, it's important that we are reminded of the good times and great memories we have of lost loved ones.  Instead of regret or shame, it's best to remember laughter and joy.  It makes the tough times easier to get through. Yet, it also reminds us of a simple truth:  God is good.  Even when we don't understand tragedy or heartache or death, we must recognize that ultimately God is good.  He provides joy and laughter and camaraderie.  He gives us love and light and peace.  Remembering the good amidst the bad gives a glimpse of our heavenly father, who longs to give us good gifts and bless us.  It reminds us of Jesus, who

When I was younger, I used to hold grudges.  If you wronged me, I simply stopped talking to you while secretly plotting my revenge. Well, I never got my revenge.  In the end, I wasted a lot of effort in keeping silent.  The other person didn't care.  I spent a lot of energy being mad at someone who could care less. As I've gotten older, I realize the futility of grudges.  Life is simply too short to hold on to anger, resentment and even hate.  Do I still get mad?  You bet.  Do I still have conflict?  Sure.  But once the conflict is over, so is the dispute.  I don't have time to hold onto it for days, weeks or even years.  My energy is best spent elsewhere. Joseph found himself facing the very same dilemma.  His brothers sold him into slavery, which spiraled toward years of servitude, a false accusation and prison time.  Eventually, he got out and was made second-in-command of all of Egypt.  He has almost unlimited power. Then his family showed up.  He provided f