Preaching has been the central element in most Protestant worship services for over 500 years. It’s the main thing pastors do, in terms of time consumption. Yet remarkably few pastors have a strong sense of identity as a preacher.
Not every pastor approaches the task of preaching in the same way. There are at least four distinct approaches to the pulpit.
Once in awhile we find a chance to do something of unquestionable importance. These opportunities lift our lives out of the ordinary routines of everyday life and allow us to experience meaning and purpose in a direct way.
That’s why I’m going to Haiti this summer, and I’m inviting you to come with me.
North American life is more diverse than it has ever been. In my community there are 80 first languages spoken in the public schools. And in my congregation, people from 10 countries of origin may attend on any given Sunday.
If this is true in the heartland of Indiana, it is probably the case where you are also. Every congregation must decide how it will respond to diversity.
Most churches have made this choice already, they just don’t know it.
We’re in shock today after the bomb attack at the Boston Marathon. Three people were killed and at least 173 wounded. Many people have lost an arm or leg. The bomb scene was a grisly mess of blood and smoke.
Feeling helpless as we always do at such times, many are saying, “Pray for Boston.” The words themselves are repeated on social media as a kind of prayer, “Pray for Boston, Pray for Boston.” I hear it everywhere.
But what does it mean to pray for Boston? Pray for whom? Pray for what?
Does Jesus Really Love Me? A Gay Christian’s Pilgrimage in Search of God in America chronicles Jeff Chu’s year-long investigation into the attitudes and practices of American Christians, gay and straight, toward the relationship between homosexuality and faith.
The book is a fascinating read, though it will be troubling for those who are uncomfortable with the notion that not all Christians think alike.
Chu frames the book as a quest to answer the haunting question “Does Jesus really love me in spite of the fact that I am gay?”
Differently stated, the question a great number of Christians are asking (both gay and straight, incidentally) is “How can I reconcile two deeply rooted yet conflicting aspects of my being—my sexuality and my faith in Christ?”
Actor John Cusack made a splash recently with this statement about Christianity, which appeared in Vanity Fair:
Let’s go with Jesus. Not the gay-hating, war-making political tool of the right, but the outcast, subversive, supreme adept who preferred the freaks and lepers and despised and doomed to the rich and powerful.
I love that.
We are beyond weary of seeing Jesus used as a hammer to bash others. We are heartsick at this other thing Christ has become. It’s time to get back to Jesus. Just Jesus. The real Jesus.
When I was fifteen years old, I went to a surgeon for knee pain I’d experienced while running and playing basketball. I thought the doctor would heal me.
I didn’t know then that to a carpenter every problem looks like a nail and to a surgeon every illness takes the shape of a knife.
The doctor sliced my leg, looked inside, and said, “You have arthritis. You’ll have to live with that.”
