Guest Post by Benjamin Miller
I don’t usually write about personal pet peeves, but recently one of mine got triggered, and I’m inspired to write about it, so . . . there.
I’m from the neck of the ecclesiastical woods known as “conservative” and “Reformed.” We’re known for small churches that keep to the old paths. I love the old paths; I can’t say I’m crazy about the smallness – I certainly don’t regard it as a virtue – but it depends on why we’re small. Which brings me to my pet peeve.
I hear all the time from leaders of small churches that are struggling in various ways: “Well, we don’t need to concern ourselves with results or numbers; we just need to be faithful doing what God has told us to do, and leave the outcomes to Him.”
This sounds really good. It has a nice pure ring to it. Do your duty. Be faithful at it. Let God be God. I’m down with all of that.
But one thing I almost never hear in conjunction with this is the possibility – just the possibility, mind you – that we’re doing all the right stuff, but doing it really badly. We’re preaching the Word every Sunday. That’s a good thing, but what if our preaching is just plain boring? We’re maintaining tried-and-true traditions in worship, but what if our liturgy is desultory or plodding? What if the whole atmosphere of our worship is stale, yea, even funereal? We’re not out there “peddling” the gospel with gimmicks and glamor, but what if our outreach (and our inreach, for that matter) is dull, unimaginative, uninspired, and pretty darn pessimistic (not that we expect bad things to happen; we just don’t expect much of anything to happen)? We’re Christ-centered, but what if we talk about Christ in a way that leaves Him apparently disconnected not only from the everyday life of the guy who walks in off the street, but even from the lives of most of the people nodding (take it as you will) in the pew?
I’ve sat through “faithful” Reformed sermons that were simply horrible; you didn’t have to be a communications major to figure it out. I’ve listened to sermons full of true sayings about God and the gospel that were so badly constructed, so hard to follow, so freighted with in-house jargon, so gloomy, so emotionally manipulative, so interminable, and/ or so out of touch with the real world, that all I wanted was to go stretch my legs – and I’m a pastor, for crying out loud. I’m supposed to like sermons.
Don’t even get me started on the stuff that happens before and after the sermon. I’ve been trotted at breakneck pace through liturgies without a moment to get my emotional bearings. I’ve puzzled my way through liturgies without any discernible theme or logical order. I’ve sat through good liturgies led by people who, to all appearances, couldn’t wait for it to be over. I’ve heard prayers that droned on for twenty minutes, followed by sharp admonitions about failure to stay focused. I’ve been subjected to song selections and congregational singing that would soothe the dead. It’s all “faithful.” It’s all doing our duty. It’s all – in principle – good stuff. And I think we ought to be ashamed of ourselves.
Then there’s the whole outward face of the church. We small conservative Reformed folk aren’t known for caring about reaching the lost – if God wants them to come, they’ll come; and if He’s really working in their hearts, they’ll love bad sermons and boring worship as much as we do. (I exaggerate mildly for effect.) Amazingly, this is sometimes true. People do come to worship, and they do sometimes stay. I wonder, though: Why are we so bad at taking the gospel out to where everyday life happens? Why doesn’t our message seem to “connect” outside the walls of the church? Why don’t we work harder at meeting people where they actually live, talking about questions they’re actually asking, using media to which they can actually relate? Why do we think preaching the Word and administering the sacraments inside the four walls of the church is where all the action is, and fail to develop anything approximating excellence in taking the Word out into the world? What’s with all these drab, outdated websites (if we have them at all); church leaders who are social media illiterate; and “outreach” events that consist of handing out church postcards door to door? Are we trying to be ineffective? Worse, are we self-satisfied because, after all, we’re doing our duty behind closed doors every Sunday? Really?
There’s no excuse for doing good things badly. There’s no excuse for poor preaching, deadness in worship, or outreach literature that looks like it was printed twenty years ago. “At Iconium,” writes Luke, the apostles “spoke in such a way that a great number of both Jews and Greeks believed” (Acts 14:1). This isn’t a denial of God’s sovereignty; it’s a simple statement of human responsibility. Preach like Jesus really is the Logos and communication matters. Worship in a way that’s well thought-out, engaging, lively, and participatory. Act like you expect the gospel to do something, in worship and outside the walls of the church. Cultivate good ideas, stuff that will grab people’s attention. Tell great stories that lead naturally to the Great Story. Be creative: think about how to relate the gospel to the real lives of real people out in the real world who have never heard the term “effectual calling.” Speak in such a way, inside and outside the church, that people believe. Who knows? Maybe God will start to fill our small churches, and not only we but also thousands of others will have great cause to glorify His name.
Ben Miller is the organizing pastor of Trinity Church in Huntington, New York. he blogs at Relocating To Elfland.<>seo услугипродвижение ов в yandex
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On October 26, 2013 By Kuyperian In Books, Scribblings Like
Marc Hays: Lust of Flesh and Eyes & Pride of Life
“…John focuses attention on the relationship between the world and “desire.” He enumerates three evil desires, or lusts (epithumia): the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the boastful pride of life.
The desires John lists are, first of all, variations on the desires evoked by the tree of knowledge. Eve saw that the tree was good for food, a delight to the eyes, and desirable for wisdom (Gen. 3:6); she was gripped by the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the boastful pride of life. Adam and Eve took the fruit of the tree of knowledge prematurely, but the things they desired from the tree were truly desirable, and God planned eventually to fulfill the desires of Eve’s heart.
In the Old Covenant, Yahweh offered Israel the tree of knowledge in the form of three gifts, and then stored them away in the temple, hidden in the Most Holy Place, until the fullness of time, until Israel became mature enough to receive her inheritance. These are the three gifts in the Ark: a jar of manna, the gift of food and life; the tablets of the law, written with the finger of God, the gift of instruction and wisdom; and the rod of Aaron that had budded with almond blossoms, the gift of authority, the gift of glory. Israel had these gifts in part: they had life in the presence of Yahweh, they had the wisdom of God in Torah, they had a share in the glory of God. But for Israel the fulness of these gifts lay in the future, and the life of each Israelite, and the life of Israel as a nation, was to be directed by the desire for these three gifts, by the anticipation that someday the veil would be rent and the gifts would be opened and distributed freely. Yahweh promised that when he came forth from his tent, he would bring these gifts with him.
That is the gospel, which is, once again, the gospel of the rent veil. In the fulness of time, God sent these gifts not in part but in full. God sent Torah in the flesh, his Eternal Word and Wisdom; the Father sent bread from heaven, the One who is the way, the truth and the life; he exalted humanity to heavenly places to share in his authority to judge. By his death and resurrection, Jesus tore down the veil where the gifts of God had been hidden away. By his death and resurrection, Jesus made these gifts available to anyone who trusts in him. Jesus is the life of God; Jesus is the wisdom of God; Jesus is the glory of the Father, the exact representation and image of his Father. In Jesus we have life and wisdom and royal glory. In Jesus, who is the ark of God, the gifts of God are freely offered to those who are united to Jesus and follow him. He is the tree of knowledge as he is the tree of life. Under the Old Covenant these gifts were holy, taboo, unapproachable. But no longer; now, it’s holy things for holy people.”
Good gifts to be thankful for as we enter into worship tomorrow morning, as we proclaim the Preface and Sanctus together with our kin in Christ atop His holy mountain.
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