“I have become its (the church’s) servant, according to God's administration that was given to me for you, to make God's message fully known, the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to His saints. God wanted to make known among the Gentiles the glorious wealth of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. We proclaim Him, warning and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone mature in Christ. I labor for this, striving with His strength that works powerfully in me.” (Colossians 1:25-29)

The apostle Paul labored with the energy of Christ to present everyone mature and transformed in Christ. Because Paul was convinced that transformation only comes through Christ, he labored to make disciples of Jesus and not of himself. 

For a church to be deficient in discipleship is to be deficient in the church’s fundamental reason for existence. If any organization is shoddy in its core reason for existence, it matters nothing if the organization excels at other things. If Apple is deficient in designing computers, it matters nothing if they excel in outfitting and decorating their stores. If Starbucks is deficient in coffee, mastering the art of creating loyal employees means nothing. To be deficient in your core reason for existence is always unacceptable. 

We have learned to do many things as church leaders. We build buildings. We design programs. We challenge donors. We staff our churches. We put on events. We rally people around new initiatives. And as our churches grow, we become increasingly proficient in a myriad of other things from branding to facility management. But are we making disciples? Have we become proficient in many things while simultaneously becoming deficient in the one thing that matters most? 

When the apostle Paul felt compelled to defend his ministry, he didn’t point to his savvy leadership, the size of his team, the creativity or innovation in his ministry, his speaking ability, or the number of mission trips he was leading. He simply pointed to the transformation in people’s lives. 

“Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, like some, letters of recommendation to you or from you? You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, recognized and read by everyone. It is clear that you are Christ's letter, produced by us, not written with ink but with the Spirit of the living God–not on stone tablets but on tablets that are hearts of flesh.” (2 Corinthians 3:1-3)

Paul essentially says, “I don’t need a resume that outlines my effectiveness as a disciple-maker. Look at the transformed lives, because those lives are the resume. But please understand, I didn’t write the resume. Christ did. And when He wrote it, He wrote it on the hearts of people.” Transformation is the bottom-line end result of true discipleship.

Some people who had a massive impact on my life were in the room, including the director of the collegiate ministry the Lord used in my life and my best friend in college, who now serves as a director of a collegiate ministry. During my first few years in college, the Lord developed a passion in me for His Word and for people, called me into ministry, and brought Kaye into my life. I am deeply grateful for those who serve college students and young adults.

Here is the message I gave...

Her sons rise up and call her blessed. Her husband also praises her: "Many women are capable, but you surpass them all!" Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the LORD will be praised. (Proverbs 31:28-30)

I rise and call you blessed because of your character. I honor you because of the significant impact you have made in my life. I praise you because of the lessons I learned from you (Please notice I didn’t use “learnings” as I would hate for you to feel the need to edit.)

From you I learned to love the Word. As I would rush up the stairs through my teenage years, I would often cast a glance to my left to see you sitting at your desk studying Scripture. Your commitment to the Word taught me even when I was hardened by rebellion. Every time I preach or teach a message from the sacred text, others feel your influence.

From you I learned to love my kids. I’ve always been deeply supported. From helping me study in elementary school to attending every single game to editing chapters and providing feedback in a loving way–I’ve always been encouraged and nurtured. I hope and pray my children feel the same support I’ve felt throughout my entire life.

From you I learned to love people. While I would often love to bury myself in my office for more hours than I should, I learned from you that people matter most. I learned to look people in the eye, to speak with love, use my home for hospitality, and to value people as God does. By God’s grace, I’ll continue to grow in this area.

From you I learned to enjoy God’s general grace to all humanity. I appreciate the awe you have for great food, cities, beautiful views, laughter, and good company. Your awareness of these distributions of grace has caused me to enjoy life more–and has helped me to sometimes spoil my family with them.

From you I’ve learned so much. You’ve taught me lessons that will carry me through the rest of my life and will be planted into my family. You’ve supported me and exhorted me through intense seasons of study and ministry. In my eyes, you’ll always be blessed and worthy of praise.

Love,

Eric

In many student ministries, Leo Tolstoy would be viewed as a hero, a model for moral discipline and Christian virtue. Tolstoy was a famous Russian philosopher and author in the mid-1800s, best known for his novel War and Peace. He pursued moralistic perfection in his faith, a task that many viewed as noble. He set up lengthy and complex lists of rules for himself and trusted those lists to guide his life, even forming rules for controlling his emotions. Several times, he publicly vowed to be celibate—though he was married—so he ended up living in a separate bedroom from his wife.

Despite all of his attempts and his public commitments, Tolstoy could never live up to his own standards. His wife’s 16 pregnancies were a reminder of his inability to keep his vow of celibacy. A. W. Wilson, a Tolstoy biographer, wrote: Tolstoy suffered from a fundamental theological inability to understand the Incarnation. His religion was a thing of Law rather than a thing of Grace, a scheme for human betterment rather than a vision for God penetrating a fallen world.

Tolstoy pursued perfection in his own strength and energy apart from the grace of God. He constantly lived under guilt and shame, and he died a miserable vagrant. He never enjoyed the Christian life because he missed the essence of Christianity. The essence of sin is our attempt to take the place of God. The essence of the Christian faith is God taking our place, not only on the cross but also as the One who daily sustains and satisfies us. Tolstoy, because he missed grace, lived the antithesis of the Christian faith.

Sadly, many churches teach as if they desire to produce children and students like Leo Tolstoy. Children’s ministries can drift away from the grace of God and drift into morality training, burdening children and parents with virtues apart from the Vine. Similar to some moralistic messages common in children’s ministry is the tendency to continually address the behavior of teenagers rather than their hearts. While children’s ministry can drift toward teaching for behaviors people want to see in children, student ministry can drift toward teaching against behaviors people don’t want to see in teenagers. The irony is painful in many churches: teach kids how to behave until they hit puberty and then teach them how not to behave until they graduate. Is it any wonder that researchers and consultants continually tell us that the majority of students leave the church after high school graduation? If they have grown up under the burden of attempting to live by a list of do’s and don’ts apart from a changed heart, we send them out with a surplus of repressed behavior bottled up inside.

Children and students, indeed all of us, are incapable of living the Christian life in our own merit. We are utterly unable to transform ourselves. Because of this simple truth, transformation is not about trying; it is about dying. The apostle Paul knew that transformation occurs when we continually die to ourselves and trust the grace of Christ fully: “For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh” (2 Cor. 4:11).

Because of the above truth, I am massively excited about the new curriculum we are launching at LifeWay for children, students, and adults. It is called “The Gospel Project,” and we believe that the children, students, and adults who study it are the project as the gospel continually works on us. Through the study, children and students will encounter the gospel in all of Scripture. They will learn how all of Scripture points to the grand story of Scripture—the glorious gospel. They will understand that the gospel is not only for their initial forgiveness, but it has ramifications for all of life.

First, I was in another country and was overjoyed to discover McDonald’s was there. I devoured lunch one day but became very sick. Evidently I ate lettuce washed in water that was not purified. I threw up for 24 consecutive hours. And with each vomiting episode, I lost more and more of my appetite for super-sized meal deals. I was surprised that when I returned home and would drive past a McDonald’s, I had no desire at all for a burger or fries. In fact, I was actually repulsed by what I formerly craved.

The second life-altering experience was that someone took me to a super-nice restaurant and introduced me to Prime meat. You may not know this, but you should—there are three grades of meat. Select is the lowest. Choice is the next level--  what is typical sold at Publix and other supermarkets.

Then there is Prime.

Less than 3 percent of all meat is Prime. When I first tasted a Prime-grade filet mignon cut of meat, I knew that it would be difficult to eat meat from McDonald’s or Golden Corral again. My taste buds had just radically changed. I now have much less desire for what I thought was the apex of culinary delights. I hate what I once loved. And I love what I once did not know.

For those of us who are truly Christians, the same has happened to us on a spiritual level. Formerly, we craved the things of this world. We built our lives around the desires of this world. Then Christ changed us. We tasted the goodness of God and our taste buds changed. We can still eat the things of this world. We still sin. We just don’t want to as we once did. We prefer Him and His goodness.

In the years following the Great Awakening, some people questioned the sincerity of many of those who were reportedly converted. It was clear that some of the people who claimed to have become Christian were not authentic in their faith. They were living the same types of lives they were before they met Christ. There was no change. So in response, Jonathan Edwards wrote his famous work, A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections. In it he coined the phrase “holy affections” as the distinguishing mark for whether or not someone is truly born of God.

He wrote:

“The supreme proof of a true conversion is holy affections, zeal for holy things, longings after God, longings after holiness, desires for purity.”

How do we know that our hearts have been and are being transformed? God changes and continually sanctifies our desires. He transforms our affections. Apart from Him, we can do nothing (John 15:5).

This past weekend, LifeWay streamed a free simulcast from that book tour. If you're not familiar with Matt, he serves as lead pastor of The Village Church, a Dallas-area, multi-site church which has witnessed tremendous growth over the past seven years. Alongside his current role as lead pastor, Matt is involved in church planting efforts both locally and internationally through The Village and various strategic partnerships.

I'm grateful to have friends like Matt. Every time I have hung out with Matt, I feel like I walk away loving God more. He's a man who loves God, loves his family, and loves the Church. Below is the video from this past weekend of Matt preaching on the Explicit Gospel tour. As an added bonus, I'll be giving away FIVE copies of the Explicit Gospel DVD leader kit to commenters today, so be sure to leave a comment below.

Jesus displayed deep humility in His birth as well as in life, from entering the world through a woman He created to washing the feet of the disciples that He trained. While choosing not to continually display the fullness of His attributes was indeed humbling, His death was even more debasing than we might imagine. The apostle Paul said, when writing of Jesus’ death to the Christians in Philippi, “He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even to death on a cross” (Phil. 2:8).

From both human and spiritual vantage points, the cross is the pinnacle of Christ’s humility. There was simply no lower place He could go. 

From a human perspective, Jesus bore excruciating and torturous pain. In fact, the word “excruciating” comes from the same root word for “cross.” The Romans who carried out the crucifixions in Jesus’ day intentionally designed crucifixion to be as painful as possible. The process from the flogging and carrying of one’s cross to hanging naked in front of a crowd was a ruthless and barbaric way to die. The Romans stripped the individual of his dignity in death. They did not execute their own by crucifixion, no matter how vile the criminal; it was too humiliating. Yet Jesus as our perfect sacrifice placed Himself on the cross, a violent and bloody instrument of torture, because “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness.”

From a spiritual perspective, the humiliation is even worse. Our pure and holy God became sin to take away our sin (2 Cor. 5:21). He became my lust, pride, selfishness, and anger in order to give me His righteousness. As He became our sin, He experienced hell on the cross for us. Church Father Thomas Aquinas once wrote of hell as having both “pain of loss” and “pain of sense.” Jesus experienced the pain of loss as the Father turned away from the Son, causing Him to yell out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” He experienced the pain of sense as He bore the full measure of God’s holy wrath (Isa. 53:6). It took six hours on the cross for Jesus to satisfy the wrath of the Father. It would take me an eternity in hell.

Thankfully, Jesus humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even to death on a cross.

Why?

Because of His love for you and for me.

It is more likely that you have heard of their senior/teaching pastors: Matt Chandler, J. D. Greear, and Matt Carter. All three are humble and godly leaders who the Lord, in His providence, has anointed to powerfully proclaim His Word. And if you asked any of them questions about specific ministries of their church, they would default to Josh, David, and Kevin.

We met a few weeks ago in Nashville and spent a day encouraging and challenging one another. For half an hour, I invited two camera guys to record us in hopes that some of the discussion would encourage executive or associate pastors who lead but don’t necessarily preach every weekend. While it felt a little more formal once the camera was turned on, there was no script or rehearsal.

I guided the discussion around three elements of leadership: leading yourself, leading up, and leading others. I will post the video in segments over the next two weeks.

First, leading yourself…

At the beginning of the story it’s clear that the world isn’t the world as we now know it. What was once North America is now a collection of 12 districts under the rule of "the capital." At some point in the past, these 12 districts attempted to overthrow the crippling control of the capital, but their rebellion was crushed. As both a punishment and as a reminder of the consequences of rebellion, the capital instituted an annual coliseum-style competition called The Hunger Games.

For these games, each of the 12 districts must select, through a lottery, one girl and one boy teenager to represent them in a fight to the death on national television where only one warrior may survive. Katniss Everdeen and her little sister Prim, are both eligible to be chosen for the hunger games. Prim means more to Katniss than anything else in the world. Prim is tiny and helpless. And evidently because she is younger she has a smaller chance of being selected. People actually tell her in the movie, "Prim, don't worry, there is no way you will get picked." But Prim is the one selected out of the hundreds, if not thousand, of names to represent her district in a fight to the death in front of the whole world.

In this moment, tiny Prim is doomed.

She is dead.

She is a goner.

She might as well lay down when the games begin because there is no way a starving, unskilled 14-year-old can survive a death match with 18-year-old men with fighting capabilities, massive muscles, and no mercy. So in an act of merciful love, Katniss makes a choice. She volunteers for the games. She volunteers for the pain. She volunteers for the deadly consequences. She chooses to take her sister’s place and face the violent outcome of the games. 

Our hearts are melted by the story of one person sacrificing herself for another. We are attracted to narratives such as The Hunger Games because they reflect the ultimate story for which we were created. J.R.R. Tolkien, the Christian author who wrote the fantasy The Lord of the Rings, believed that all great stories point to our longing for Christ. He believed that the gospel story of Jesus isn’t merely one of many great stories. Rather, the gospel is the underlying reality to which all stories point.

We’ve all been in Prim's position. Because of our sin, we’ve all been in a place were our death, our demise, our destruction, was inevitable. As natural born sinners, rebels, we were all destined to face the deadly consequences of our rebellion. It wasn't a game, and we were never going to win. Like Prim, we were in a situation that we couldn’t survive. We were obviously outmatched. We were doomed. So Jesus volunteered for the cross. He volunteered for the pain. He volunteered for the consequences. He stepped in and took our place. He, like Katniss Everdeen, was willing to accept a violent, deadly outcome in the place of the ones he loved.

Only the story is greater and more dramatic.

We are not innocent Prim. Christ didn’t volunteer to take the place of the pure and innocent ones, because there are none. We’re the evil creators of the games. We‘re the bloodthirsty crowd. We’re the soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of Jesus. We’re much more wicked than Prim. Christ is much greater than Katniss. And the stories that point to our need for Christ pale in comparison to the true story of our redemption—the only story that truly satisfies our hunger.

Some speak of a calling to a specific task or role, such as "I am called to preach" or "I am called to work with teenagers." These are the "what" leaders who focus on "what" they do in ministry. Leaders who think only in these terms think much more about what they do than the people they serve or the people they serve alongside. Now, of course, there is biblical precedent for being called to a task. God called Noah to build an ark, Nehemiah to rebuild a wall, and Paul to preach to the Gentiles.

Others speak of a calling to serve alongside a leader or a group of people, such as "I am here to serve with John." These are the "who" leaders who focus on "who" they serve alongside. They think mainly in terms of the team they are honored to serve alongside or the leader whom they believe will develop them for the future. The location seems secondary. Again, there is biblical precedent for sensing a call to serve alongside others (Paul and Barnabas, for example).

Others speak of a calling to a specific church or city/community. These are the "where" leaders who focus on "where" they are serving. They speak first of the passion for their church or their community. It is almost as if the role and task is a mere detail, one that can change without any loss of worth or identity. There is biblical precedent for a commitment to a specific location (Paul's call to Macedonia, for example).

There is great danger in being only a "what," "who," or "where" leader. "What" leaders often love what they do more than the people they serve or the people they serve alongside. Ministry can easily become about them and the opportunity to utilize their gifts. "What" leaders must become more passionate for the church than for what they do for the church. While I deeply value loyalty, "who" leaders can drift into valuing the relationships more than valuing the health of the ministry. And "where" leaders can lose focus on important ministry functions while simply "loving where they serve."

Sadly, in some moments I have been exclusively one of the three. I have loved what I do more than I loved the people I served. I have valued relationships over the health of the church. Graciously, the Lord leads me to repentance.

And, by God's grace, I have been all three at the same time. The Lord changed my perspective as He matured me. In other words, my view of my calling changed more than God's calling shifted. Ministry is most fulfilling when you are passionate about the what, who, and the where. Loving what you do, whom you do it with, and where you do it is such an amazing ministry sweet spot that I hope it's where we all stay.

I've included some highlights of my sermon notes below.

Futility of the Gods

All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war, and of others avoiding it, is the same desire in both, attended with different views. …And yet after such a great number of years, no one without faith has reached the point to which all continually look… because the infinite abyss can only be filled by an infinite and immutable Object, that is to say, only by God Himself.

--Blaise Pascal

God created us with a longing for joy. We will pursue joy in Him or we will purse joy in other things, in other gods, in lesser gods. God and the gods of this world both offer us joy. But only one delivers. In Psalm 16, David celebrates the joy he discovers in God and he contrasts his joy with the sorrow of those who pursue lesser gods. We are confronted with the futility of the gods.

Why can God deliver on joy and the gods cannot?

1. The gods are temporary. He is timeless. Unless we find our joy in Him, we will simply transfer our affection from one little g god to another. Both the career and the view are temporary. God is timeless.
2. The gods are never satisfied. He satisfies. Little g gods are never satisfied and they never satisfy. They are never quenched and they never quench. They always take more and they never give you joy. God gives. He satisfies. He gives Himself. He does not demand a blood sacrifice. Instead He gave a blood sacrifice. On the cross, He met the righteous requirements of the law for us on our behalf. The God of the universe, whose name Yahweh was viewed as too holy to mention, took a common name, Jesus, and placed Himself on the cross to give us everlasting joy in Him. And he yelled out “It is finished.” God is satisfied because of the sacrifice of Jesus and He satisfies.

I never understood those who listed three states as their "preferences" for ministry.

While I told God I would go anywhere, I also asked that it would never be Nineveh. And I don't mean a town or city called Nineveh, but a people that I would not love, a place that I would not cherish. I never wanted to be the Jonah of Chapter One, never wanted to be disciplined into the ministry God has for me.

By God's grace, I have never served in Nineveh. He has always been gracious to me and given me a love for the people I served, a passion for the city, and a desire to live in the community in which God has placed me.

You can minister in Nineveh, and God will use you as He used Jonah, but you may also be miserable. Surely it's much better to allow God to breathe His passion for the community and the people deeply into you. Surely it's much better to love the people and the place God has called you to serve.

Looking back, here are a few practical things my wife and I did to develop our love for the places we served. I will use my most recent local church experience in Miami illustratively.

1. Eat at local restaurants: You could go to a Bonefish Grill in any city. Instead, find some places that are authentic to that community, places that capture the local culture. We loved Cuban at Havanna Harry's, Peruvian at Jaguar's, and Seafood at Garcia's. After each meal, I felt like Miami was a little more my home.
2. Date your spouse and the city: Explore different parts of the community/city/county. Find things to do in places you've not yet explored. Shop in a different part of town or try coffee in a new place.
3. Find fun local spots for your kids: Each community has some unique things for kids. Find those. Whether it is a park, zoo, museum, or library. Join those and visit them with your kids.
4. Pray each morning for your community: The more you pray for your community the more you'll love it. God supernaturally does this work in your heart. At nights when I would fly into Miami and see all the city lights, I would pray for the city and God always increased my love for her. At times, He would bring me to tears and I knew He was doing something special deep in my heart.
5. Join the sports bandwagon: Allow the local team to become your team. Really make it your team. I became a huge Miami Heat and Miami Hurricane fan. When people talked smack about them, I took it personally. And giving Florida State fans a hard time only endeared me more to the people of Miami.
6. Use local illustrations in your messages: The more you talk about your community, the more you end up loving it. And the people sense it.
7. Honor the local community leaders: Everyone in authority has been placed in authority by God (Romans 13). Schoolteachers, policemen, and community/political leaders care for the community and are in highly influential roles. Pray for these leaders and look for opportunities to serve them. Some of my great memories in Miami include flying in a helicopter with policemen on a night raid, serving a local school with my small group, and recognizing school teachers for Teacher Appreciation Day.
8. Embrace the history: The community has a historical narrative. Learn it in order to better understand the place and the people who live there. In Miami, the Freedom Tower is known as the Ellis Island of the South because Cubans fleeing Castro's regime were processed there. It's a statement of a new beginning for many people and an illustration of the new life Christ offers when we leave our old lives behind.
9. Listen: As you live in the community, listen. Listen to the people you meet. Hear their stories and allow God to give you His burden for them.

What about you? Anything practical you would add to the list that you have found helpful in developing a deep love for the place you serve?

Imagine the details surrounding the narrative. Jesus is talking to a huge crowd crammed in and around Peter’s house. Hearing a loud noise on the roof, people begin to look up. Peter is especially concerned as it is his house being trashed and the crowd far exceeds the fire code. A hole in the roof appears. Debris starts falling. More noise, more debris. The hole gets bigger, and light begins to shine through. Then an entire section of the roof is ripped off. Peter must be livid. What is going on? Who is on my roof? 

Four guys appear, looking through the large hole. Just as people start to wonder what these guys are doing, they begin to lower their paralyzed friend to Jesus on a mat. Surely these four unnamed guys first tried more conventional ways to get this guy to Jesus. Perhaps they attempted to go through the front door, but it was completely packed with people. They probably approached a window, but people were stacked five or six deep. 

They could have said they tried. They could have gone home and told their friends how much they tried to bring someone to Christ. They could have wrapped up the day in prayer and gone home. But they persisted. They went for the roof. 

Perhaps they saw some of Peter’s fishing ropes on the side of his house and tied the portable bed to the ropes. I am sure they debated tearing up Peter’s roof. After all, Peter was a little impetuous and loud-mouthed at times. But their love for their friend compelled them. The original language literally says they “unroofed the roof.” They dug through the thatch made of leaves, mud, and mortar. They destroyed the roof so they could lower their friend to Jesus. 

Jesus said to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” The words Jesus spoke were beautiful. He called him son. He expressed friendship and love to him. He declared, as only Jesus can, his sins to be forgiven. The men could take off a roof, but only Jesus can take away sin. 

If the scene occurred today, how would you respond? Where would you fit in the story?

Would you be like the crowd? They filled the room and surrounded the house to see Jesus. They stood and listened to Him speak. They watched as four people attempted to bring a paralyzed man to Jesus. They watched. They did not move out of the way. They did not help. They were there to see a show. They were there first and were not going to give up the view. The crowd missed an opportunity to be a part of bringing the paralyzed man to Jesus because they were not looking for the opportunity. 

Would you be like the religious ones? Evidently, they arrived early because they are the only ones sitting. They arrived early to critique. They evaluated the work of God rather than participating in it. They united in criticism instead of uniting in the mission of bringing the paralyzed man to Christ. 

Or would you be like the unnamed heroes, the regular guys who were willing to take a risk to bring someone to Christ? Their broken and burdened hearts led them to urgent action. 

In ministry, the door is often blocked and the window is often locked. Have you tried the roof? Are you still convinced in the forgiving power of Jesus, so much so that your faith leads to bold action?