Spiritual Maturity: “You Do Not Want to Go Back to That!”

“You foolish Galatians! Who has done a number on you–you before whose very eyes the Lord Jesus was vividly portrayed as crucifed? Tell me this: Did you receive the Holy Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith?” (Galatians 3:1-2)

I had just sketched the young single mother and she was telling me about her life. She doesn’t go to church anywhere, she said, but her mom has been pressuring her to attend her church. And what kind of church does her mother have?

“She’s started her own religion.”

That got my attention as few other things will. She’s started her own religion?

Just what this world needs, another variety of religion.

“And what is that all about?” I asked.

“Well, she’s reading the Old Testament and the New Testament.”

“Okay. No problem there,” I said.

She said, “She’s given up pork. And she said we can’t have any birthdays or specific holidays because they aren’t biblical.”

Uh oh.  This woman has started on a slippery slope which can lead her into an abyss of legalism and law-keeping.

I said, “If she keeps on this way, you can expect your mother to start keeping the Sabbath as her day of worship. And it will get worse after that.”

I took a notepad and wrote: “Acts 15–You don’t have to become a Jew to be saved” and “Colossians 3–let no one judge you on the basis of what you eat or the sabbath.” (Note: I had it wrong. It’s Colossians 2.)

I said, “The note is for you, not your mom. She might not appreciate the discussion we are having. But as you read these and think about them, they might provide the answers you want to give her.”

“But the best answer you can give your mother when she pressures you to attend her church is to already be attending a good strong church and tell her that.”

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Is Your Gospel Accessible?

“…but if our gospel is hid, it is hid to those who are perishing.” (II Corinthians 4:3)

Yesterday, four somewhat frustrating things happened to me. It took the fourth one before I began to see a pattern.

After spending the night at a hotel in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and before departing for my destination in MIssouri, I decided to see Arkansas State University. The desk clerk gave directions and I drove to the campus, about a mile away. A directory on the side of the street told how to find the student center, which is normally where one will locate a campus store so I can pick up a t-shirt with the school emblem.  It appeared to be simple: down this street, turn right.  Oops. Construction work is going on there. So maybe I missed a sign. Yes, there it is. Turn right here. Free parking for visitors, the sign said. It’s not a big school; this shouldn’t be difficult.

Down that street–the one clearly marked as the direction of the student center–permanent barriers were embedded, blocking it off. The only thing accessible there was the post office. I pulled in, turned around, and left, deciding that a visit to Arkansas State was not on the agenda for me today.

Five minutes later, on my way out of the city, on the left side of the four-lane highway stood a Wal-mart. I needed a couple of things and decided to run by. Should be simple, right?

After exiting, I had to make a decision: whether to go to the right or left on a highway paralleling US 63. I chose “left,” drove 100 yards, then turned right and circled back over the highway. There should be a left turn here that would take me back to the Wal-mart. No left turn. I drove a few country blocks, turned in someone’s driveway, then returned, looking for directions. No street or driveway exited to my right in the direction of the store. I gave up and re-entered US 63 and drove on.

A mile out of town, I passed a church. Now, this area of Arkansas seems to have a church for every 50 people, so there was nothing unusual about that. What was strange was that  across the entrance stood a huge gate barring anyone from the parking lot. What was that all about, I wondered. Were people parking there when they shouldn’t? Maybe teens using it as a lovers lane? Or truckers parking their rigs there?

I can just imagine some I’ll-take-care-of-this-person in the church assuring the pastor, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll stop those people from parking here.” And he erects this barrier.

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What Pastors Can Learn From Obama’s First Debate

Taking a risk here, commenting on politics.

I’m not taking sides, at least not on these pages. I’m not speaking for Mitt Romney to point out that President Obama made some needless mistakes in the first debate of this presidential election, errors from which pastors can learn important lessons.

Before listing them and making my points, let me say this is not a summary of what the political commentators have been saying. Just my thoughts, for whatever value someone might find in them

Pastors, don’t try to protect your image.

The president’s advisors have said (probably in private, as I can’t imagine anyone saying this publicly) that Obama’s goal was to project himself as “above the fray,” and to “look presidential.” If that was the plan, it was a bad one.

When you are interviewing for a job–and that’s what these debates are–you must at the very least come across as wanting the job.  The president came across as owning the job and resenting the fact that someone else would try to take it away from him.

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A Crash Course in Spiritual Maturity

“…knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance….” (James 1:3)

Pity the church with an immature pastor. He can drive good people crazy.

His ego is always out there seeking a caress, his stubborness could put a mule to shame, and his unteachable spirit frustrates even the saintliest. He thinks of himself first of all, what effect something will have on his career secondly, and of the church a distant third.

A few days after Hurricane Katrina went through our part of the world and left New Orleans flooded and hundreds of thousands of people homeless and vast numbers of churches destroyed, I had a phone call from one of our young pastors. His church had come through fine, but his members were scattered and some were not coming back.  He said, “Joe, I worry about the effect this will have on my future prospects. I mean, this will not look good on my resume’.”

Yes, he actually said that.

I replied, “My friend, you don’t have a resume’. You’re still in seminary.” I let that soak in, then added, “If you will do this right and be faithful, you will someday look back on this as one of the finest things the Lord ever did for you.”

He could not hang around long enough to see that, however, and soon had moved out of state.

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No Matter What You Do, Be a Teacher

“The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, these entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also.” (II Timothy 2:2)

Every teacher who is truly effective became a teacher because of the influence of a highly effective teacher.

You can’t say that about preachers. Preachers are called by God. (Teachers can be also, but it’s not a requirement as it is with preaching.)

In seminary, we debated an entire class period the difference in preaching and teaching. Nothing was ever settled, but doing so forever burned the question in the minds and hearts of the lot of us. This morning I went online to pursue the issue. The internet has many powerful voices, each with the definitive answer.

Here’s mine. To preach is to announce the truth of God’s revelation in all its dimensions. To teach is to individualize truth and assist people in their development.  Preachers are messengers; teachers are mentors.

It’s not that clear cut, I can hear someone say. Fine. Give us yours. But this one suffices for me at the moment.

Brad Meltzer is a highly successful novelist. In “Parade” magazine for Sunday, September 30, 2012, he paid tribute to the “World’s Greatest Teacher.”  (Nowhere in the article does Meltzer make that grandiose a claim about Sheila Spicer, his ninth grade teacher. Perhaps this is a series the magazine is running.)

Meltzer writes, “The teacher who changed my life didn’t do it by encouraging her students to stand on their desks, like John Keating in Dead Poets Society.  Or by toting a baseball bat through the halls, like Principal Clark in Lean on Me. She did it in a much simpler way: by telling me I was good at something.”

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Immature Pastors (Part 2)

Immaturity and sin have one big thing in common: they’re more obvious in others than in ourselves.

At a state Baptist convention attended by a thousand or more church leaders, during a business session when anyone is free to walk to a microphone and express an opinion about the motion on the floor, I noticed the same young pastors kept rushing to address the messengers. At times what they said was pertinent, but one got the feeling they liked the sound of their own voice reverberating off the walls of that majestic worship center.

Returning home, I wrote a letter to the editor of our state paper–in hope that some of these guys might recognize themselves–suggesting that these youngsters could save themselves a lot of embarrassment and the rest of us considerable time if they would attend a few meetings before speaking out. That way, they might know what they were talking about instead of having the chair gently inform them that they were misinformed or out of order or clueless on this issue.  (In the next issue of the paper, the mother of two young preachers took me to task for my insolence. “McKeever was young once,” she said. I was then 44.)

I have indeed been young and I have been green and ignorant, and I possess lots of experience with immaturity.

In my first church following seminary, I can still recall (painfully, I might add) the way I was critical of one of our state convention workers who would plan the annual youth evangelism meeting a few days after Christmas.  Since my church was doing well and our youth were excited and the numbers growing, all the evidence proved I was an authority on working with youth. To my thinking, it did. I could have written a book on what that guy was doing wrong and how he could get it right.

And then, something happened.

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