Pray For Them; Don’t Prey On Them

I was pre-Christian for the first twenty years of my life. I was around a lot of Christians. I had Christian friends and Christian members of my extended family. I was even in and out of a lot of churches (sometimes I even got paid to be in church, playing in various orchestras and such). Among my relationships with Christians, there were those in which I felt like I was prey.

We should definitely pray for our pre-Christian friends… but we should not prey on them.

Kevin was a coworker and friend of mind for a few years, a few years before I came to faith. He was a student at a local Baptist Bible College. I think in those days they had around 1,000 students at an unaccredited ministry-training school associated with First Baptist in Hammond, led by Pastor Jack Hyles.

They took very seriously the command to “Come out from them and be separate” (1 Corinthians 6:17). Actually, since to this day their doctrinal statements proclaim their exclusive allegiance to the King James Version, it should be: “Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing.” They were separate in the way they dressed and talked and associated with people. It was a big church (several thousand) before mega churches were common. They pretty much kept to themselves, unless they were soul winning. They invented the “bus ministry”… at one point they were sending buses into four states to pick up kids and bring them to Sunday school; they were serious… and in some ways it was really impressive.

But here is the thing… I got the feeling from anyone I would come into contact with from that school or church that I was a target. From the most incidental contact with someone from First Baptist, to the close working relationship and friendship I had with Kevin… I felt like prey… a target… a name that might be turned in to fulfill some quota if I would just get saved. I had the feeling that any act of friendship or kindness, any helpful favor or word, was all targeted at getting me saved. I felt like prey.

I don’t think Kevin and his coreligionists did any harm to me… but neither did they do any good.

On the other hand, there were those who cared for me, were genuine friends to me, and prayed for me. There is no doubt in my mind that the way they demonstrated the Gospel made the difference in my life.

Here’s what I am saying… we simply must have pre-Christian friends if we are going to be fulfilling God’s work, if we’re going to be involved in His mission. We ought to be purposeful about building friendships with those who do not yet believe. And they can’t be merely friends for the purpose of getting them saved, merely friends for our purpose. Especially in our day (time and culture) we need to allow people into our hearts and homes so that they can truly see the Gospel in action. We need to be friends and have friends… pre-Christian friends who we pray for, not prey on.


I spoke along these lines last Sunday. To hear more, you can listen online at pleasantbay.cedarpark.org/services  

Listen to Yourself

I review by listening to my sermons from time to time. We make it pretty easy to review sermons at Pleasant Bay; you can find them at www.PleasantBayChurch.org

There are two really good reasons for me to go back and listen:

1. The Good Ones, and 
2. The Bad Ones

When I go back and listen, I usually find that my own assessment of how things went on Sunday isn’t precisely accurate. This week, for example, I didn’t feel like I made my points very well… but after listening to it today, I found that it was way better than I remembered. There are other weeks when I feel like I really delivered the goods, only to find that I wasted some opportunities when I listen critically later in the week.

I don’t go back and listen to every sermon I preach or presentation I make… but I try to listen to the ones that I feel are a bit better than usual and the ones that I feel are a bit worse than usual. When I listen to the bad ones, I almost always find that it was better than I remembered, and that builds my confidence for next time. When I listen critically to the good ones, I almost always identify something that I can do better, usually both in the content and the delivery.

I encourage you to listen to yourself from time to time. Maybe you are a preacher like me and listening to a recording is fairly simple. But maybe you’ll need to be a bit more creative about how you go back and review your work. Maybe a lot of your work is written (such as emails)… take a look in your sent-items folder and pull a few old emails to review (pick some good ones and some bad ones). Maybe you make presentations or run meetings and they are not usually recorded… make an effort to make a recording (use an app on your phone; it doesn’t need to be studio-quality). I think if you’ll make an effort to review your work, especially focusing on the good ones and the bad ones, you’ll learn important lessons.

Why Don't Christians Want to Die?

I have friends who are soul sleepers; they come from theological traditions that hold the view that death brings a period of nothingness until the resurrection. I believe they are wrong, and they believe that I’m wrong; we both know that these sorts of things should not divide us as Christians. 

While we do not argue much about such things, we do talk from time to time, and I appreciate the conversation. I actually think that the soul sleepers have a better perspective on death than most Christians.  

Pop Christianity seems to hold a view that death immediately transports us to a heavenly paradise. The images include everything from white-robed, cloud-sitting harp players to mansions on golden hilltops.  

If that is the case, then why don’t Christians want to die? With a belief that there is something spectacular just on the other side of the door, why shouldn’t we bust through that door as soon as possible?  

Here’s where the soul sleepers have it right. Death should not be welcomed.  

Pop Christianity undervalues the resurrection, and thus overvalues what death holds for Christians pre-resurrection (before the Second Coming of Jesus).

I spoke from the beginning of 2 Corinthians 5 last Sunday. This passage of Scripture clarifies: 

1. The ultimate hope, prize, and goal of Christians is eternity in resurrected bodies suited for the work of serving and worshipping God forever. 
2. Our present lives matter, and, for believers, the productivity of these lives will be judged (for commendation not condemnation). 
3. If we die before Jesus returns, while we will be with the Lord, we will not yet be clothed with resurrected bodies (naked as Paul says). 

We long for #1… but that is out of our hands. #3 is a wonderful promise for believers. But #2 is the life of purpose that outranks #3.

I suppose we might think that the pop Christianity view of life after death is harmless… but I’m not so sure. For believers such a view may undervalue the importance of this life; it really is no good to be so heavenly minded that we are of no earthly good. And for pre-believers… such a flimsy view of eternity and undervalued view of this life could be hurdles keeping people from the Gospel. I think our view of eternity matters… a lot.

To hear more of what I had to say about this, in the talk titled In Between, checkout the podcast at www.PleasantBayChurch.org

King David’s Steps to Success… Via Succession

In a meeting last week I was accused of being a governance nerd. Guilty as charged… I may be a bit too fascinated with the structures and systems that allow organizations to work. I read articles of incorporation, corporate policy manuals, and bylaws for fun.

In my daily Bible reading a few days ago I noticed a governance approach that could be a useful model, specifically as it relates to succession. As I’ve written before, a few times, there is no success without succession.

The passage is found in 1 Chronicles 28-29 as David hands the throne off to his son Solomon. Here are some of the key steps that David took to ensure success through succession:

David Publicly Proclaimed His Support
David made it clear that his success would be judged by the success of his successor… not in comparison to his successor’s failures. It seems that some former leaders are happiest when they can point out the shortcomings of their successor… as if their successor’s weakness reveals their true strength. Leaders who tear down their successors don’t build up their own reputation; they make themselves look pitifully small.

David Charged His Successor to Lead, Rather Than Charging His Subjects to Follow 

While it was certainly implied that David wanted his followers to transfer their loyalty to Solomon, David’s charge was directed at Solomon to lead. Charging the followers to follow could only result in short-term success. For long-term success, Solomon would have to step up and lead.

Furthermore, David’s charge was not primarily a matter of tactics or even strategy; it was a charge of character. “And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the Lord searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought. If you seek him, he will be found by you” (1 Chronicles 28:9).

David Left Plans for the Future 

It seems that some new leaders desire a fresh start… free from the shackles of the former leaders’ old ways of doing things. That is certainly understandable when strategic plans and governance systems seem most concerned about preserving the past. In those cases, set the captives free… allow them to do a new thing!

But often the more excellent way (especially in complex organizations) is accomplished when new leaders are empowered with inspired plans and governance systems that are focused on the future. David gave Solomon “the plans of all that the Spirit had put in his mind” (1 Chronicles 28:12).

David’s Last Act Was to Give 

This step may be the one most in conflict with how we normally do things. In our day of golden parachutes, severance packages, and retirement gifts, it is customary for leaders to leave with a little extra in their pockets.

But David not only left plans, an organization prepared to work, and treasuries filled ready to build the Temple; David dedicated his own treasure to the success of his successor. He made a lead gift for the capital campaign that challenged the whole community, and secured the building of the Temple. “The people rejoiced at the willing response of their leaders, for they had given freely and wholeheartedly to the Lord” (1 Chronicles 29:9). 

Fundraising 101 teaches that successful campaigns always include giving from the leaders; an especially successful campaign also includes the full support (and sacrificial giving) of former leaders too.

I Don’t Know

I listen to most episodes of the Freakonomics podcast. I’ve often said that if I could just stop my life and go back to school, I might try to get into a Ph.D. program in economics. I think there is some interesting work to be accomplished on the edge where the worlds of faith and the worlds of economics meet.

The Freakonomics guys just released a new book: Think Like a Freak. Employing the basic rules of cross-channel marketing, the podcast features topics lifted from the book. Last week I listened to the podcast based on chapter two titled: The Three Hardest Words in the English Language. They are: I Don’t Know.

The podcast (and chapter 2 in the book, of course) provides wonderful examples that make it clear how we often go to great lengths to avoid those three hardest words. They would set up experiments in which the subjects could not possibly know the answer to a question, yet they would answer with certainty or at least make what they thought was a pretty good guess… anything but say “I don’t know.” Then there were cases in which subjects were asked ridiculous questions like “which is heavier, yellow or red?” or “which is more angry, my sweater or my pants?” and subjects would answer, often with an associated rationale. We’ll go to great lengths to avoid admitting that we don’t know.

For the purposes of their book, the point the Freakonomics guys make is that if we are going to think like a freak, we have to start from a place where presuppositions, dogmas, prejudices, and such are set aside. Then the productive work of discovery and problem solving can commence.

I’ve worked in cultures where the words “I don’t know” have apparently been stricken from the lexicon. The corollary phrase is “fake it ‘til you make it.” I’ve been in sales organizations, corporate environments, and institutions of higher education where it seemed that saying “I don’t know” was a sign of weakness or even incompetence.

I’ll admit it… the words “I don’t know” have not easily rolled off my tongue for most of my professional life.

I suppose some of this springs from a modernist way of thinking that asserts that everything can be known; it is just a matter of effort. And everything important should be known.

It seems that some of the most insufferable people are those who will not say “I don’t know.” It is hard to like a know-it-all. Of all know-it-alls, Christian know-it-alls can be the worst. How is it that we mortals who worship omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience insist that we know it all? It seems to me that our proximity to omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience should reveal how little we know.

For the past several days, since listening to the podcast and reading the first chapters of the book, I’ve been listening to Christians talk. It seems to me that we routinely say “I know” when what we really mean is “I believe.” I think it reveals that we’ve bought the modernists’ lie, that knowing is more powerful than believing. In the modern age, I suppose it was effective to position Christianity as the place where we have all the answers.

But we don’t live in the modern age anymore.

In this post-modern age, I wonder if we are repelling pre-believers with our insistence that we know all the answers. I wonder if we are building walls instead of bridges with our answers to questions that nobody is asking. I wonder if we are missing an opportunity to invite other to believe. 

I don’t know.

Prayers Unanswered

Last Sunday (Mother’s Day at Pleasant Bay) I spoke from the end of 2 Corinthians 1 on prayer. I referenced a C.S. Lewis essay, a favorite of my friend Merlin, titled The Efficacy of Prayer (from a collection: The World's Last Night). It was a great resource when considering questions about how and why prayer works.

I didn’t spend much time talking about when prayer doesn’t appear to work… when prayer appears to go unanswered. Lewis reflects on this near the end of his essay. He noticed that it appears that prayer (especially petitionary prayer for ourselves) seems to be more effective when we are less mature in the faith. During our infancy and childhood in the Faith, it could be that we get more of what we ask for… but as we mature we may not get simple provision, but rather gifts of patience and such in order to persevere in the Faith.

Maybe the best tact for mature Christians is to focus on intercessory prayer for others. When it comes to our needs we ought to find new Christians to pray for us. (There’s a good motivation to be evangelists, and keep ourselves around new Christians!)

When it comes to prayers (unanswered and answered), Lewis’ final sentence is stunning. I’ll provide it here in the context of the last paragraph:

Does God then forsake just those who serve Him best? Well, He who served Him best of all said, near His tortured death, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” When God becomes man, that Man, of all others, is least comforted by God, at His greatest need. There is a mystery here which, even if I had the power, I might not have the courage to explore. Meanwhile, little people like you and me, if our prayers are sometimes granted, beyond all hope and probability, had better not draw hasty conclusions to our own advantage. If we were stronger, we might be less tenderly treated. If we were braver, we might be sent, with far less help, to defend far more desperate posts in the great battle.

God of the Second Best

Now when the Lord spoke to Moses in Egypt, he said to him, “I am the Lord. Tell Pharaoh king of Egypt everything I tell you.” But Moses said to the Lord, “Since I speak with faltering lips, why would Pharaoh listen to me?” Then the Lord said to Moses, “See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet. You are to say everything I command you, and your brother Aaron is to tell Pharaoh to let the Israelites go out of his country.” (Exodus 6:28-7:2)

Each of us has a set of tools in our toolbox. I have a few tools in my top tray… the kinds of things I think I do best. Some of them seem to result from the way I’m wired, while others have been acquired and refined through education and experience. And then I have a few other tools down below the top tray… the kinds of things I think I do second best.

It appears that Moses thought that public speaking was, for him, a second-best tool. Regardless of God’s call, Moses objected; he apparently could only approach Pharaoh with his first-best tools. So if there was public speaking involved, God was going to have to come up with another plan. The thing is… as we continue to read, the Biblical account makes it clear that Moses must have gotten over himself and put his second-best tools to work since he did a lot of public speaking, both in front of his people and in front of Pharaoh.

Recently I sensed God’s call to volunteer to help some friends. At least from my perspective, I had top-tray tools in my toolbox that suited part of their challenge… the kinds of things that come naturally for me… the kinds of things that I have a graduate degree in… the kinds of things that are accompanied by a track record of success. But there was not room this time for me to help, at least not with my first-best tools. So, not sensing any release from God’s call, I went to one of my second-best tools: prayer.

I suppose I should be embarrassed; it seems that prayer ought to be a first-best tool for a pastor… I’m just being honest here. I certainly believe in the vital importance of the work of prayer. I spoke about it at Pleasant Bay just last Sunday. Prayer (intercessory prayer in this case) is certainly a well-worn tool in my toolbox… it is just not quite in the top-tray for me, and it was not my first choice for this particular challenge.

The point is... we should not turn our back on an opportunity to serve just because it does not appear to match our top-tray tools.

I wonder… it could be that the thing that makes us or breaks us is how well we handle our second-best tools. I don’t know that anyone only gets to operate with top-tray, first-best tools. If there are people like that, it must be a tiny minority. Most of us have to get along doing a lot of work with our second-best tools. It could be that how we use those second-best tools has more to do with our success than our use of our first-best tools.

A couple of thoughts about second-best tools…

Second-best tools require more effort to be used well. When the work is important and requires our second-best tools, we have to concentrate and work hard at it to be successful. It could be that sometimes that is the point; the process is often a big part of the result of our work. Sometimes the work we do (or the work in us) requires just that sort of deliberateness.

Second-best tools seldom get you any credit. In my experience, we are seldom front-and-center and in the spotlight when we are going about our work with our second-best tools. When it is time to use our second-best tools, we should not expect any fame or credit… second-best-tool time is just a different season. It is often a season to only support others.

Second-best tools can feel safer. There can be a certain comfort in operating with our second-best tools. Working with our first-best tools can feel risky, especially if we feel vulnerable or our self-esteem is damaged. There are people who keep their first-best tools tucked away… hidden so that they cannot be marred by misuse, criticism, or failure. Sometimes when we are settling to only use our second-best tools we really should be courageously using our first-best tools. 

Second-best tools often compliment first-best tools. It seems that, in most cases, we will not even get a chance to use our first-best tools unless we are willing to bring along and use our second-best tools too.

Second-best tools are still important tools. It is easy for people to identify their first-best tools as special gifts from God… but all the tools in our toolbox are gifts from God… tools to be used… tools to be refined and sharpened and applied more skillfully… tools for which to be thankful.