What Christians Can Learn from PostSecret

I have a few rituals in my life that I do religiously. Read the PostSecret website is one of them. Every Sunday morning…without fail. PostSecret is a project that was started several years ago by a guy named Frank. Here’s the gist: people anonymously mail in their most secret confessions on a post card and Frank posts them to his website. You may think you have a good grasp on people’s inner thoughts and motivations. But until you’ve read PostSecret, you really don’t have a clue.

The confessions on those postcards are raw, unfiltered, and outrageous. But more importantly they are an actual representation of what goes on in the human mind. I know many Christians that see the “depraved”  types of confession that litter that site as examples of lost souls pinning away for something more. I don’t. I think they are beautifully authentic. In fact, Christians could learn something about their own faith from them.

Occasionally, the confessions listed are actions of the past. But most of the PostSecret confessions are confessions of the heart. Here are a few examples:

I’m terrified of being a parent. I don’t think I could handle it if my kids make the mistakes my friends and I have made. 

Every time I see your Christmas lights, it makes me want to punch you in the face. 

I travel so much because  know I won’t kill myself if I’ve already paid for the trip.

Being a slut makes me feel strong.

They are all secrets of inner fears, motivations, and desires. Christians should take notes.

In the church world, confession occurs when someone is willing to admit a past mistake or failure….and that usually only happens when someone gets caught. But PostSecret actually represents a more biblical form of confession reflected in James 5:16 says “confess your faults to each other and pray for each other so that you can be healed.” Confession is not about getting caught. It’s not even about accountability. It’s about honesty and vulnerability. Personality flaws, skewed motives, and prejudices…right out there in the open – before God and everybody else.

Anyone can say, “In the past, I committed adultery. I committed fraud. I committed acts of violence.” But the Christians who actually have traction with those around them are the ones that confess what is truly in their heart in the middle of their struggle:

I am a Christian.

I am also a notorious liar.

I go to church only for the business contacts I can make there.

I gain great satisfaction from watching coworkers fail.

I hate my spouse but I’m scared to divorce him/her because my Bible study group will shun me.

I want other people’s money.

I love porn. I will always love porn.

I’m afraid of God though the pastor tells me I shouldn’t be.

My children annoy me constantly. I look for ways to avoid them.

This is real life. This is Christianity: not “confessions” of triumph but accurate confessions of broken people who are on a journey towards wholeness. May God give us the courage to share our own “PostSecrets.”

Pay Me What You Owe Me: The End of a “Profession”

I had a watershed moment this past week.

I attended a conference with a number of church planters from around the world. I’m not talking about our average “safe” conference where everybody flashes a lanyard to get in and sits around citing demographical research and discusses the latest Zondervan book. I have been to those and find them helpful. But this was different. These people were planting churches where no statistical data is available, if you get my drift. These people were hardcore. They were extremely kind and accommodating to me. But it became pretty clear that I was sitting with a class of minister far above my own.

One story struck me in particular. A guy had been making advances into a country for several years. Now, when I say that, I’m not saying that he’s got a 500 member congregation and health benefits. We’re talking about four converts in three years. That kind of thing. Hardcore. He was giving praise that someone in that group had invited him to visit again and was going to pay for his travel costs.

Here’s where it gets radical. I said, “Isn’t that a standard arrangement? How else would you get there?”  He said, “No. Normally I have to pay them to have the opportunity to witness to them. That’s why it’s a miracle.” Read that again. He has to pay them.

We send speakers and ministers around the world at our own expense. After all, motivational  speakers and ministers are worth the money right?  In the U.S? Yes. Elsewhere? Nope. In the U.S., the people who are paying are already Christians and deeply entrenched in that consumer paradigm. Outside of that paradigm, no one else gives a rip. A flying rip.

Don’t call me a doomsday prophet just yet, but I believe this is on the horizon in all Westernized nations as well. Many would say it’s already here. Presently, I would venture to say that roughly anywhere between 10-20% of any U.S. city has contact with Christianity and that number is decreasing every day. As it decreases, any prestige associated with the “profession” of ministry will eventually collapse. It’s status as a reputable and viable occupation will cease and (as in other nations) it may bring scorn upon those who embrace it.

Then something else will happen. People will have a choice: they will either wait for someone to fund them or they will spend their own money to share Christianity with others. Right now, ministers and church planters still think someone else needs to pay for their services. But ministers of the future will no longer ask for funding for themselves and their families. They will ask for funding so they can “pay” someone else to listen to the Gospel.

Do you think that’s a radical idea? Let me know what you think.

Empowered Humility

My understanding of humility growing up was probably similar to yours. It involved shunning accolades, making sure I gave honor to God, declaring my unworthiness for salvation, and the like. I felt as though the compliments of others were poison darts filled with pride that would pierce my spiritual armor. The only way to defeat it? Deflect them with a good case of the “awww…shucks” and a hearty soli Deo gloria.

Now, I understand that perspective as a form of false humility – attempting to create within myself a facade of good-natured humility when really I craved the approval of others. I was not authentic. I said the correct things but relished in the attention/compliments of others. I now understand humility as something drastically different. Most people’s view of humility involves a resignation to some form of inactivity/timidity for the sake of “preferring others better than oneself.” And though that has a place in the Christian walk, it’s not the whole story. Empowered humility is really the defining mark of a Christian. In Romans 12, we find a recipe for Christian behavior. From the outset, Paul spends his time using action verbs – examples of behavior that are anything but idle. Even the verbs describing the willingness to put others’ interests in front of our own are intense, purposeful, and focused. It reminds me of the time-honored industrious phrase, “If you’re waiting on me, you’re backing up…” Verse 21 describes it best: “overcome evil by doing good.”  

You know, God is good, too. Tucked within the definition of “good” in any solid Greek lexicon is the idea of being productive. God’s actions are what ultimately declare his goodness. God looked at all he created and said it was good – it was active, dynamic, and teeming with life…just like him. We are made in his divine image – in Christ, we possess that same ability to be “good”: productive, active, constructive, energetic, and vigorous. But our common understanding of humility seems to state the opposite as if humility or meekness involves inactivity. To me, empowered humility involves taking the initiative under the direction of  God. Humble people see the desires and wishes of their Maker and move to make them a reality. Humility is not standing in a corner. It’s submitting ourselves to God and following him into active battle. It’s placing your life in the hands of another to fight for their cause with your life.

Empowered humility also involves attentiveness to the Holy Spirit and a willingness to put aside our own agendas and live an active life under guidance of the Spirit. There are countless examples of this in the Bible – active heroes and heroines who caught the vision of their Maker and moved forward to advance God’s vision: Noah, Abraham, Deborah, David, Nathan, Daniel, Hosea, the Apostles, Priscilla and Aquilla, Phoebe…the list goes on and on. And don’t forget the certainty and strength of Jesus – humble resolve in the face of persecution, need, and death. We know these names because they acted with the certainty of God, not because they were “shrinking violets” and emotional “doormats.” They were not weak. They were strong. But they weren’t strong for their own purposes. They were strong for God.  Forward-motion humility, empowered by the Holy Spirit. If you’ve been waiting for God to move, you’re backing up…

Book Review: Sam Chand’s “Cracking Your Church’s Culture Code”

In an unconventional way to start a book review, I’d like to tell you a conversation I had recently.  I  got a call from a young minister in his twenties who had been doing some soul-searching earlier in the day. He’s already experienced highs and lows of church leadership and has walked away (to put it nicely) a “realist.” He asked me “What are the key components that make a person successful in ministry?” After telling him that’s an impossible question for me to answer, I gave him my best guess: the spiritual life of a leader and the health of the organization. He asked me if I had a book recommendation about organizational life. I told him, “I think my recommendation is the book I’m reading right now: Dr. Chand’s Cracking Your Chruch’s Culture Code.”

Sam Chand’s Cracking Your Church’s Culture Code: Seven Keys to Unleashing Vision and Inspiration (Leadership Network/Jossey-Bass, 2011) is different than every other church leadership book I’ve read. Granted, it’s the first one I’ve read by him. In the past, the best organizational advice I’ve read comes from “secular” sources: The Wisdom of Teams, Good to Great, or a Patrick Lencioni book. But Chand manages to keep the organizational advice flowing while also reminding the reader why he or she is in church leadership to begin with: to glorify God. Chand’s premise is this: change a church’s culture – its vocabulary, team dynamics, transparency, etc. - and you will change a church’s direction and effectiveness.  From chapter one forward, Chand emphatically states, “Culture trumps vision.” Change the culture and the vision will follow. Chand then systematically walks the reader through the seven keys to culture: 1) control, 2) understanding, 3) leadership, 4) trust, 5) unafraid, 6) response, and 7) execution. Throughout the book he covers all manner of organizational life – team dynamics, the process of change, the importance of capitalizing on momentum, dealing with mediocre staff members, and how to select volunteers from within the congregation. In other words, he basically covers everything.

Peppered within all this good “business” advice, Chand speaks from a pastoral heart as well. He interjects comments like, “We need to treat staff like volunteers, always appealing to their hearts and their desire for God to use them to change lives” (p. 66). Or “The number of ‘shoulds’ in a person’s mind and mouth is inversely proportional to his sense of peace, joy, and fulfillment” (p. 90). Then, Chand turns around and offers some of the most common-sense leadership advice you’ll read anywhere: “Trust grows in an environment that is HOT: honest, open, and transparent” (p. 52). Concerning strategic planning, a good framework is found in the acronym SMART: “specific, measurable, accountable, reasonable, and timely” (p. 150). And don’t miss the great illustration about the church as a restaurant.

So, back to my phone conversation. Why suggest this book over another? Here are my thoughts. Occasionally a book will come along that embodies all the research and data in a particular field. This book does that in the areas of church leadership. You can read Diffusions of Innovations and be better for it. But Chand takes those findings and many others, places them within the context of church life, and summarizes it in a page and a half. Every triumph and failure I have seen among church staff is addressed in this book. If any church leader reads this book and commits to using it as a guide for organizational life, I don’t see how they can go wrong.  It’s a gold mine for church leaders.

The Preachers

In two potentially narcissistic posts, I’d like to share some of the preachers/teachers and books that have really shaped my worldview, influenced my reading of the Bible, and transformed my preaching style.

Now, as I’ve said before, I’m a spiritual “mutt.” I have no problem with this. Mutts can be good dogs, too. And I think this becomes fairly clear when I start listing influences in my spiritual life. Though I’m Wesleyan through and through, there aren’t many Methodists in this list. It’s also interesting that I’ve met very few of those that have influenced me the most.

Malcolm Smith. Hands down, this guy is the most spiritually influential teacher in my life. Somewhere along the way, my grandmother pulled out a series of tapes (yes, tapes) by a Charismatic Episcopal Bible teacher named Malcolm Smith. He said more about theology, practical living, and pastoral guidance in one sermon than all the sermons I’d previously heard combined. I listened for hours. I’m still listening.

Martyn Ll0yd-Jones. Lloyd-Jones is an icon in Christian circles. Pastor of Westminster Chapel in later years, he is one of the most articulate and precise preachers I have ever heard. For years, Lloyd-Jones was a medical doctor and when he answered the call to preach, he brought that same “surgical” expository style to his sermons. Listening to ”the Doctor” is like watching someone peel back layers of an onion. For him, the gospel was only as good as it was practical.

Greg Boyd. Theology professor turned pastor, listening to Greg is like listening to a mad man. He’s all over the place. But his understanding of God and his ability to relay the importance of the cross is unmatched. Greg goes where many preachers do not go – he always has a fresh perspective. Rarely have I seen a male pastor give so much attention to soul care and the emotional, intuitive side of Christianity. He’s a joy to listen to.

John Lynch. This guy is a new find for me. Mix a dry wit and a message of radical grace and you’ll get John’s sermons. He’s the teaching pastor at Open Door Fellowship Church in Phoenix, Arizona. I love the fact that John never gets tired of his central message: the love and grace of God. But more than a conceptual model, John talks about how grace makes its way into our practical lives. Good stuff.

There are others I listen to: Andy Stanley, John Eldredge, Craig Groeschel, etc. But for many people, the guys above are off the radar. Give them a listen when you have time.

There’s one more preacher I should mention: my former boss, Leigh Ann Raynor. She’s the Senior Minister at Porterfield UMC in Albany, Georgia. The first time I heard Leigh Ann speak, I was fascinated. Previously, I had preached countless sermons in a more extemporaneous style…and all the pitfalls that came with it: lack of clarity, rambling, and flippant regard for the time of those listening to me. Somewhere along the way God began to convict me that if I couldn’t say what I needed to say within about 25 minutes, then I was being a bad steward of the time I was given to speak. Now, that’s not for everyone – it’s just what I felt God was saying to me. So, while attending her services and serving on her staff I took notes not only on what Leigh Ann said but how she said it. Every word was chosen carefully and delivered with an extemporaneous feel…but she was preaching from a transcript. After a slow marriage of the two, I now preach in a style that is similar to hers. The point? Don’t ever underestimate the influence of a local minister. If you are one, take heart –  people are listening more than you think.

Why We Compete

So, some more thoughts on competition. There are plenty of reasons why we compete as adults. Of course, I can only speak for myself but I hope I can shed some light on this idea. For many years, my main competitive motivation was pride. I wanted to be the best. I felt that I was entitled to be the best. The truth is I’m not the best…no one is. So, in its infancy (or before we “grow up“) competition is a product of our desire for personal esteem. Small amounts of this are okay I suppose but not the level we normally associate with narcissism. And even into adulthood, occasionally we find the individual who is still captured by their own potential for greatness and their willingness to steam-roll others to get there. I must say that the majority of my experience with competition falls into this category. It’s drives our love of football teams and our aspirations of climbing some sort of corporate ladder. It’s the driving force that makes someone at Catalyst wish they were that person speaking on stage and network their brains out behind the scenes to “connect” with the next ministerial conquest.

But there’s a much more devious form of competition that enters when we grow up. Competition based on fear. And unless you’ve been under a rock somewhere, this is the most common form of competition you will encounter. It is the foundation for much of our business practices and even affects our churches. When you are economically secure or work in a safe corporate culture or a church environment that is open, you don’t see this type of competition. But when our families are threatened, our finances are at risk, reputations are jeopardized, or people start throwing around terms like “divisional restructuring,” cooperative trust and loyalty disappear. And this is the mantra of fear-based competition: “I don’t have to be first…just don’t let me be last.” This competition based on fear makes us do some strange things. Though I beleive it’s important to be thankful for what we have, I am amazed at people’s willingness to oversell the value to “2nd tier” schools, vacations, cars, and luxury items simply because “1st tier” is out of reach. I can’t send my kid to an Ivy League college so I’ll talk about how high the average SAT score is and how low the acceptance rate to my public school choice is. I can’t own a beach house in Destin, Florida so I’ll buy one somewhere else and rave about the “up and coming” location. I can’t own a Mercedes but have a Tahoe. It’s the idea that drives the old joke about “Thank God for Mississippi” since Mississippi is worse off than the state you live in.

Churches are designed to be the exception to this simply because the gospel states the opposite. We are all on the same page. Now, you might assume that my next conclusion is that “we are all on the same page because we are all sinners.” And that’s true – I’d put myself in that category. But the church has a more urgent message to convey: we are on the same page because we are accepted in Christ Jesus (Eph. 1:6, NKJV). Everyone is “1st tier.”  But churches don’t always convey this message well. But that doesn’t mean that each person cannot grasp it on their own. I’ll talk about how to do that in the next post.

Competition

Beth and I were watching that TV show The Good Wife last week. The main character, Alicia,  was having a conversation with her brother about being two-faced. “Everyone’s two-faced,” she responded. Her brother said that she was not – a beacon of principle for her younger brother as they grew up. But Alicia bursts the bubble of idolatry for her brother. “Yes I am. The issues got more complex…and I grew up.” In Alicia’s voice you hear defeat and pain underneath the vibrato of wisdom. When you grow up, the gloves come off – it’s every man for himself.

Normally, I would pause the TV show and subject my poor wife to my take on the significance of that dialogue. But I try not to cause my wife pain and suffering so I didn’t. The truth is I’ve been thinking about competition lately – its root causes and why we feel we need to engage in it. As a young child, I was extremely competitive. Not because I was naturally bent that way…but because I had been conditioned that way. As a male, I was taught that conquest in life was important – recess in first grade can teach you this. I remember running and feeling like I was practically flying only to have another kid tell me that I was not as fast as him. It had never occured to me that I may not be as fast as someone else. A new paradigm emerged. Of course, the fact that this same kid introduced me to several novel curse words should’ve tipped me off.

Then I went inside the classroom and my teacher handed out tests that had been graded. I made a B. The girl next to me made an A…and it didn’t seem like she had to work as hard as I did to learn. Over the next few years I was taught to rate and evaluate everything in the world: toys, classmates, food, physical appearance, clothing, intelligence, cars, musicality, athleticism, etc. I felt like I was constantly on life’s measuring scale. I remember playing baseball as a kid. I played the position of right field. I was that kid. There were plenty of pep talks about being a “team” but let’s face it – right field is not short-stop. The right fielder knows it and the punk playing short-stop revels in it.  

Christianity did little to help understand competition and cope with the paradigms of others. In fact, it reinforced it. I was immersed in an Americanized Christianity that directly tied my successes and failures to my relationship with God. If I was successful, it was becasue I was a Christian. If I wasn’t, it was because I wasn’t Christian enough. I heard sermons where preachers talked about “finishing the race” and looking forward to the day when they would hear God’s evaluation of them: “well done my good and faithful servant.” The way they said it sounded like there were only a couple of spots left in the “great cloud of witnesses.” And so, like everyone else, I embarked upon a life fraught with insecurity. Others had somehow learned to hide it better than me.

More tomorrow…

Goats, Turbulence, and Community, Part 2

So, more about community.

Beth and I flew to Lexington, Kentucky, this past weekend for a family wedding. We had a great time. But getting there was certainly less than desirable. Our flight from Atlanta to Lexington was routine until about 45 minutes in. Then, our small plane experienced turbulence. Not the normal type – this felt like someone was using the plane as a jack-hammer. That’s when things got really interesting. Suddenly, the plane dropped roughly 2000 feet in 2.4 seconds. Read that again, please…that’s coming up on half a mile, people (we looked up the flight pattern to verify what happened).  Everyone’s peanuts, pretzels and soft drinks went everywhere. Even while buckled in, practically every passenger hit their head on the overhead compartments. But here’s the worst part. The flight attendant was still in the aisle serving passengers. Without any warning, the poor lady was launched like a rag doll straight up to the top of the plane and came down unconscious for about 5 minutes. Eventually, the flight attendant came to and was helped into her seat. The descent was fine and we landed safely accompanied by a string of emergency vehicles. Bumps and bruises and a few lacerations on some passengers. The pilots never told us the problem…but when they opened the cockpit door once we had landed, they looked like they’d seen a ghost.

Yep.  Scary. 

The most interesting thing about all of this was the interactions within the plane itself – the ones between the people. I’m not sure why watching them was more important than worrying about my life (let the pathological diagnoses roll in…), but some really interesting dynamics occurred. A couple of obvious points. 1) Suddenly people were keenly aware of their inability to protect themselves. 2) Neither were they able to retreat from the situation – we were thousands of feet above ground inside a hollow metal tube. 3) Up until that point, all of us were isolated from each other’s life context with little effort to uncover the stories of those around us.

But then we helplessly dropped 2000 feet in the air. Everyone’s story became the same. The crisis occurred roughly halfway through the flight, so we had the final half to process what happened. At first, no one moved. The flight attendant was surrounded by 12 people strapped into their seats. And no one said anything – they just stared at her. When she came to, one generous soul unbuckled, called the cockpit on the attendant’s phone and helped the woman to her seat. He had set the agenda for the remainder of the flight – he risked further injury in order to help out. Once he had broken the ice, that’s when people started talking and asking questions – across aisles and rows in every direction. The cultural boundaries that restricted our interaction with each other were relaxed (possibly demolished) by the common context of crisis. A unique kinship now made communication effortless. Someone asked, “What’s she doing now?” Well, though there were about 40 women on the plane, everyone knew who “she” was.   Everyone’s background for dialogue was now the same.

Just like the goats in the first post, community was built around feelings generated by common experience. Our experience on that plane was a microcosm of crises that make the national news.  Someone took the initial risk to address the context we all faced. Then others followed suit. For Christian leaders, churches respond the same way. Notice that no one gave any lectures on aerodynamics or pulled out the SkyMall magazine. It wasn’t a mental or doctrinal exercise that brought community. Community is visceral, emotional, and (for some) spiritual.

Goats, Turbulence, and Community, Part 1

I’ve been pondering the importance of community recently. What draws people together? What invites their interaction with each other? A couple of personal examples come to mind – one several months ago and one from this past week. I’ll share one this post and the other next post.

I was driving down the highway a while back and saw about twenty goats jump a fence and bound into the median. Fortunately, none were hit by cars. There’s a dairy right off of the highway and evidently the goats desired more freedom than they were given (which leads me to believe that they would adopt some type of Liberation Theology if asked…).

Now, seeing random animals in the road is not too uncommon – after all, I live in the South. We dodge all manner of defiant vermin every week. However, the response of the other drivers is what intrigued me. There were about seven cars with me that pulled over and began to redirect traffic, corral the goats, and contact the dairy owner. Everyone immediately assessed the situation and weighed in with their own gifts. You may not see any Christian parallels there, but (as a self-proclaimed nerd) I do. I see a genuine example of Christian community fostered by common experience.

Christians interested in ecclesiology spend a whole lot of time attempting to show other Christians why they should get along with each other. As a charismatic, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come across a well-meaning theologians warning that the quest to “feel” the Spirit focuses on individuality rather than community. Their answer is to tell everybody that Christians should automatically like each other and find common ground with one another. But as a minister, I have rarely seen this happen. Telling people they should “connect” with each other doesn’t make it a reality.

I believe that people (like those who stopped to help on the highway) are more than willing to unite upon the introduction of an individual experience that commonly unites them. No one had to tell me or any of the others to work together. Our common experience individually informed us that we should react in community. We experienced the “great goat escape” from slightly different angles and worldviews, but the basic experience was the same for all of us. So why doesn’t that happen more often? We see it in times of crisis like New Orleans or Haiti (see the next post). But rarely on a daily basis. Honestly, an opportunity rarely presents itself to us.

And that’s why spiritual gifts are so important. It’s not an issue of elitism or holiness. The gifts are meant to edify but also to provide a common spiritual experience that operates in every season of life. Many have had an experience in a worship service where the believe they have “felt” God in a personal way. And there’s nothing quite like finding someone who has had a similar experience to yours. It builds immediate kinship between you and that person. You know much about them intuitively without discussing specifics at all. Though the unity on the highway was external, internal experience can unite as well. When people discover that another person has had a similar experience, they open up to each other. “You’ve had that happen? I have too!” That’s when unity occurs – not around a specific doctrinal belief but around personal experiences that are shared in common.

Church leaders  interested in fostering community should never deny the validity of spiritual experience for Christians. Instead we should be begging Christians to seek experience. Experiences “connect” Christians to each other. It is a powerful unifying force.

Are You a Christian Rock Star?

I know I start off a lot of blogs this way, but I’ve been thinking about something. Sometimes I notice little trends in the language choices of Christians or during church meetings. And when you add them all up they point to something worth discussing. Lately, I’ve noticed lots of Christian language about the need to do something “special” for God. Christians say stuff like that pretty often. You know, the whole “do something great for God” language. Usually it’s couched in potential ministry or an opportunity that God has especially for “you.”  Do I think God has specific things that he wants us to achieve as his sons and daughters? Sure. But there’s a flip-side to that equation…

I came across a quote the other day that said something like this: “If you insist on behaving like a rock star, just make sure you actually are one.” Humorous, but true. I feel like sometimes we set up Christians and congregations to look for chances to become a Christian rock star.  Opportunities to serve morph into something larger and worthy of more recognition. This is reinforced by Horatio Alger type stories in the Christian world: where the simplest acts snowball into something far beyond the expected results. As if that’s the “payoff” for giving your life to God. This is easy to do with the Bible,too. Sometimes we forget that “rock star” events in the Bible occur with large spans of time in between. Or that each “rock star” experiences countless failures prior to his/her newly found status as flavor of the month. Yet we pull these passages out of thin air as if they have no work ethic supporting them and dangle them in front of people and call it inspiration and vision-casting.

But what I think God really wants from each of us is to live a life daily that reflects him. It doesn’t have to be super impressive. It doesn’t have to be amazing or conspicuous. The Christian walk needs to be only two things: consistent and true. The responsiblity of the Christian is to live life consistently in each of life’s scenarios. Here’s why. You only get the chance to do something for God that will be categorized as amazing our life-changing in life once. Maybe twice. And even then that doesn’t mean anyone will recognize what you’re doing. But if you live life consistently in regards to your family, finances, profession, and relational choices, then you will be in a position to risk something out of the ordinary because the rest of your life will be stable.

If you feel called to be a minister, don’t quit your secular job. Start by memorizing a Bible verse or two. If you desperately want to raise funds for missions, try paying off your credit card first. If you want to be the world’s greatest dad, start by simply leaving the office earlier each night. And if that goes well, then empty the dishwasher without any fanfare. Want to do something amazing for God? Do the basics. Draw your sword, raise your battle cry, and charge up the hill to conquer the obvious and the insignificant.

Are you a Christian rock star? Don’t be.