Author: Matt Musteric (Page 2 of 10)

I love crock pot cooking. I love everything about it. But what I love most is that the gorgeous smell of whatever is cooking wafts through the house all day long. The anticipation is almost as good as the meal.

The sermons I have most enjoyed preaching have been in the crock pot for a long time. I can think of two in particular that slow cooked for six months. They may not have been my “best” sermons (Who decides?), but they were a delight to serve. One was on Matthew 25 (sheep and goats) and one was on Mark 14:51-52 (the naked guy).

When my sermons are in the crock pot for an extended period of time, they also have a longer time to work on me. Perhaps this is the greatest gift of all, that I find myself dwelling in the Word in different ways.

For me it’s the different between a taskmaster demanding that I produce an oil painting a week (though this artist does, and does it well) and having time to return to a canvas over and over again for several weeks.

Which is to say: January 1 is a great time to begin thinking about your Holy Week sermons. But have no fear: right now is a great time to think about your late April and Pentecost sermons.

What are your processes and practices to let your sermons cook slowly over an extended period of time?

Here are some of mine:

1. Look ahead. If you use a lectionary to preach, there is no good reason why you can’t sketch out at least some ideas for the next six to eight weeks. If you craft your sermons based on a theme or a series, apply the same logic.
2. Write it down. I don’t care if you use a legal pad, a Moleskine notebook, Evernote or a word processing document (Preachers tend to obsess about tools.), but open eight of them and begin taking notes, then return and add more notes.
3. Dwell in the word. Let prayer do its wonderful work (on you). Read these texts with your homebound members. Talk about them when you are home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise (Deuteronomy  6:7).
4. Memorize one verse from each text. Put it on a notecard. Allow it to be a touchstone for entering the text whenever you have some free time.
5. Open your eyes. When you have the aroma of the text permeating the house of your mind and heart, you might just see things in the world in the new way. That looks like the Gospel! That smells like grace! That thing I just saw captured what Jesus says beautifully. Crock pot preaching, over time, invites us into a heightened awareness of the present moment.

Action step: Write down the probable preaching texts for your next eight sermons. Read each of the texts. Write down one idea for each text. 

“For we have this treasure in crock pots…” (2 Corinthians 4:7 alt.), with apologies to St. Paul.

Write your Easter Sunday sermon this week.

That’s it. You’re welcome. You can thank me later.

Here’s the deal. Whether you have two Holy Week services or twelve, it’s easy to be behind the eight ball on the Saturday evening before Easter. You are exhausted and, perhaps more importantly, your family is exhausted.

All nighters may have worked in college. Pushing the deadline can be an adrenaline rush. But the truth is, these tactics rarely produce our best work.

So find a chunk of time this week, get some good sleep, make (or buy) your favorite warm beverage, and write your Easter Sunday sermon this week.

What makes an art exhibit compelling?

What is not there.

Huh?

A brilliant art exhibit is made by the decision of what not to put in the exhibit before it opens.

This is the work of the curator. It is also our work as preachers.

[You see, I had this helpful anecdote about how I am going to, “someday,” curate my CD collection and how a curated CD collection is better than a large CD collection. But I chose to leave it out. See? Curated for you!]

What to cut out of your sermon may be the most important decision you make before you preach it.

Here are some guiding questions to help you determine what to leave in and what to take out:

1. Does this piece contribute to the central theme of the sermon or is it just an image, story or anecdote that I find compelling?
2. Would removing this section ruin the sermon or enhance it?
3. Is this chunk a part of this sermon or could it be used for another sermon?

And here are two fun ways to curate your sermons, depending on whether you are digital or analog:

1. Digital: Type your sermon with a space between each small section. Print it out and cut it into strips. Start removing sections and sub-sections. What parts do not need to be there?
2. Analog: Instead of writing your sermon on a legal pad or notebook paper, write it in small sections on index cards and then apply the same process above.

May your sermon this week be a curated exhibit pleasing to God and engaging for your hearers.

Do you love me?

It’s not just the just-below-the-surface question that we ask when we are wounded or afraid.

It’s not just for Valentine’s Day.

It’s not just Jesus’ question to Peter after the resurrection.

It’s the question your hearers are asking each and every time you preach.

In the first 30 seconds of a sermon, those listening are implicitly forming an answer to this important question: Does the one up there preaching love me? 

In other words: the pressure is on. You have a minute to win it. In the first minute of your sermon (if you’re lucky), you must do two things:

1. grab their attention and
2. communicate that you care.

I know, I know. It sounds cheesy. But it boils down to this: If you care if they are listening at the middle and the end, it pays to do this important work at the beginning.

Call to action: Craft your beginning carefully this week with this question in mind.

How did your sermon go on Sunday? Did you stick the ending? Did you memorize it?

The End

is

really

the beginning.

Right?

How you end your sermons is critical.

First, let’s talk about focus.

Have you ever heard a sermon that had more than one ending? The preacher had your attention and then you circled the airport at least two more times. This is incredibly frustrating for hearers. Most of us who preach have done it.

Tip #1: A good sermon should have one ending. Not one and a half. Not two. Don’t circle the airport. Stick the landing like an Olympic gymnast.

While you’re focusing on one ending, leverage your conclusion to invite your hearers to do something. A good sermon ending gives hearers an invitation to respond.

It allows them to wrestle, sometimes uncomfortably, with the implications of what have just heard.

The ending becomes the beginning, the launching point, for discipleship.

Here are some ways to do this:

Tip #2: Use the ending for a concrete invitation to discipleship. Give them a specific thing to do. Of course they can be creative in how they respond to what God is saying… but why not give your hearers a starting block to run the race that God has set before them?

Tip #3: Use the ending to inspire. Paint a compelling picture of what life might look like when the Kingdom of God comes to your town / church / community / family. The more details the better.

The End.

(Or is it just the beginning?)

O Lord, you know (Ezekiel 37:3 — one of my favorite Bible verses).

If you’re looking for some great preaching videos, this 2009 series by Rob Bell is just. the. best. At $20 for five hours of video, it’s also just. a. steal. You should buy it. Today.

(Full disclosure: I attended this live event in 2009 but do not receive any commission, compensation, etc. for promoting it. I just like to share good stuff.)

Here’s a simple preaching tip you didn’t see coming the day before Ash Wednesday: Read a stack of magazines you would normally not read. 

For guys, this means picking up a copy of magazines normally targeted toward women. For women, this means reading magazines geared toward men. (I know, I know: Call the stereotype police!) For everyone, grab a tabloid.

Most of us are good at exegeting the text. Can we refine our skills on exegeting the culture?

Magazine are great because they also play to the hopes, fears and insecurities of their readers. I’m not suggesting preachers should do the same.

I am suggesting we ought to know what those hopes and fears are. 

And reading a magazine you would not normally pick up helps us see the world from a different perspective (cue Robin Williams standing on his desk in Dead Poets’ Society).

The best part about this is that when you’re caught in your study reading the latest tabloid, you can say with full confidence, “I’m just studying for my sermon.”

(Thanks to Rob Bell for this insight at Peter Rollins’ Soapbox event in October 2015.)

A little Jeopardy-style question for you. I will give you the answer and you come up with the question.

Answer: Three.

Question: Is it…

1. The number of endings most preachers’ sermons have?
2. The number of stories told in most sermons?
3. The number of sermons you should be working on in any given week?

The answer is #3, though #1 is also often true (let’s be honest).

You might protest: Three! Are you kidding me? Most weeks one sermon is plenty for me to work on… and that’s when I don’t have a wedding or a funeral!

Hear me out. I’m not saying you need to have three finished sermons, just three sermons.

This blog post is going to scare you if you’re a last-minute sermon writer… but there’s room for you too. 

I want you to begin working three weeks ahead:

1. One sermon in the batter’s box, ready to preach. This sermon is at least a detailed outline, needs some polish, but it essentially ready to preach if you had to. Think fully-formed living creature.
2. One sermon in the on deck circle, ready to bat next. This sermon is where your sermon is most weeks by Wednesday or Thursday. You have a rough outline and the central theme or idea, but it needs some shape and structure.  Think skeleton with organs and muscles, but no skin.
3. One sermon in the bullpen, warming up. (I know I’m mixing metaphors.) This sermon looks like that moment in the week when you move from lots of good ideas about the text to whiteboarding a central theme with ideas for stories and supporting material. Think skeleton.

If you’d rather use a cooking metaphor:

1. One sermon ready to be served at the table.
2. One sermon almost plated in the kitchen.
3. One sermon in recipe form with all the ingredients at hand.

First, the “why” and then the “how.”

Why three sermons? Three reasons. (Notice a pattern here?)

1. All the great preachers of our day work like this. (A little peer pressure to get you motivated.)
2. Creativity thrives with constraints. All great artists know it. And you do too, even if you’re a last-minute sermon writer: Deadlines (another form of constraint) make things happen.
3. The crock pot works. You know what I’m talking about. Have you ever gotten a great sermon idea, drawn from a text, about six months before the text comes up? Slow-cooked sermons are the best.

Now the how.

This week I’m guessing you have a little more to do than write Sunday’s sermon: counseling, meetings, annual report, parochial reports, and visits to make. And that’s before the unexpected hospital visit makes its way on your calendar.

But it can be done.

1. Set aside one day this week. Or one half a day. Or two hours. Set your intention to make this important.
2. Find a space where you won’t be interrupted. Create the conditions to do your best work. 
3. Look three weeks out and work backwards to this week. (I know it seems counter-intuitive, but it works.) Start with the most difficult thing: a sermon that has no urgency… it’s three weeks away!

Eventually this gets easier. Once you get three in the hopper, you’re only adding one more each week and moving the other two up.

And if life happens and you get out of the rhythm, you can press restart at any time using the formula above.

Now get in that bullpen. Coach is counting on you.

Saturday is the preacher’s best friend and worst nightmare.

It’s our best friend because it imposes a real deadline. It says to us, Like it or not, tomorrow’s “go time”. Like a good friend who will tell us we have food on our face or our fly is down, Saturday creates in a real sense of urgency: the curtain opens soon.

Saturday is also our worst nightmare. Have you every been deeply satisfied with a fully-written sermon or detailed outline that you had finished on Wednesday (I know, it’s rare), only to discover upon open that same Word document on Saturday night that it was, well, crap? There’s this moment of terror followed by a quick calculation: “Should I fix this sick puppy or is it back to to drawing board?”

It’s the worst feeling ever, because it unleashes a cascade of emotions and questions:

What if my sermon sucks?

What if, because it is not coherent, people will miss what God has to say to them?

What if they begin to believe all my sermons are like this?

What if my preaching professor at seminary was right about me?

(Ok, so maybe you’re not this dramatic all the time, but fear sends us to strange places.)

But what if Saturday and the dreaded Saturday Night Sermon Revision can be redeemed?

I think it can. Here is one reason why and two examples of how.

God has given us his grace. This is ultimately where we start and end, isn’t it? With God’s goodness to us (when we least deserve it). With God’s grace to us (when we least expected it).

Last summer we were on vacation and were in a little bit of hurry to get from our morning destination to our afternoon destination that had a deadline attached to it. If you watch this short clip from Tommy Boy (about the 0:25 – 0:33 mark), you’ll get the idea.  We were hungry (hangry, as they say), so we stopped at a Sonic drive through.

It. Was. Taking. For. Ever.

So I was doing what all good dads do: a lot of yelling. I may have told my children they were ungrateful and, well, you can probably fill in the rest of this lecture.

Then God’s grace intervened. We got up to the window. Perhaps it was because I was gesticulating wildly and red in the face before rolling down the window with a sweet, “How are you?” that the woman who handed us our food said, “Sorry about your wait. It’s on us today.”

Slapped in the face by God’s grace. Because that’s how God rolls.

So the rest of the trip was my attempt to redeem the moment with a conversation about God’s grace with our children. And a little confession and forgiveness on the way.

So this Saturday, what would it look like to put a pause between your conviction that “This is the WORST sermon I’ve EVER written” and the fact that God loves you with an indescribable love?

Let the grace of God wash over you (or slap you silly). It’s that overwhelming.

So… that’s the why. Here are two ways to do that.

Turn your deadline into a dare. The deadline part is not going away. So take a risk you may not otherwise have taken. Be bold in your preaching. What have you got to lose? I dare you. (P.S. God’s grace is much more offensive than your biggest risk.)

Turn your fear into focus. What if this is your last sermon? What if you only had this one chance to talk about your topic, the life-changing Word that comes from God? Get clear and focused. What has the Holy Spirit put into your heart to say?

God’s grace first. Then deadlines to dare and fear into focus. You’ve got this. (Actually, you don’t. But God does.)

Sleep tight, preachers.

P.S. If you are itching to improving your sermons, I can show you how in this workshop. But don’t wait forever; rates go up tomorrow at midnight.

Last week our intern Eric Johnson wrote a helpful blog post with the catchy title, The Very Best Way to Read the Bible.

Perhaps not coincidentally I was listening to Ian Morgan Cron’s fictional reflection on the life of St. Francis (Chasing Francis: A Pilgrim’s Tale) while commuting back and forth to a pastors’ retreat. In this book, I was introduced to Francis’ very best way of reading the Bible.

Most of the time we read Scripture, we take something like this approach:

1. Read
2. Understand (or seek to understand)
3. Do

Francis’ approach reverses the order of the last two, so the sequence becomes:

1. Read
2. Do
3. (in the doing), Understand

I like this approach because it emphasizes that it is in doing what God invites through the Bible that we better understand what God is saying to us.

Perhaps doing (obedience) and understanding are meant to be woven together seamlessly.

Here’s a simple little trick that will bless your hearers more than you can imagine:

Memorize the very first thing and the very last thing that you will say in your sermon.

That’s it.

Seems so easy, right?

But do you do this?

Memorizing the first thing you will say and the last thing you will say brings clarity to the rest of your sermon.

The beginning and the end: memorize ’em.

That’s all.

(Thanks to Tony Jones for first sharing this insight at Peter Rollins’ Soapbox event.)

The PreachFormation live workshop is returning to Northwest Ohio.

If you’re like me, you hunger to preach better. You’re your own worst critic when it comes to your sermons. And yet you also believe in the power of preaching, that it can convict and change hearts, minds and lives. You long to preach sermons that communicate God’s transforming love for us in Jesus with power and conviction.

You might also struggle with comments from your hearers: a desire that your sermons be more “applicable” and “practical” and “connect with their everyday lives.” And yet you don’t want to sell out and become just another motivational speaker dressed up as a pastor. You get their hunger for engagement, but don’t want to serve them exactly what they are asking for.

You may have heard simplistic advice like, “Just preach the Gospel” or “Don’t tell people what they should do,” but were never given a framework for preaching that takes you step-by-step through a structure that connects God’s word with our everyday lives.

I will teach you to do that.

Register here

Taking a course in communications at a local university can cost several thousand dollars. Online workshops on improving your communication skills often run $1,000. For just $197, I’m offering a day-long workshop on preaching that will change the way you deliver your sermons and how your hearers receive them.

I’d love for you to join us for a PreachFormation live workshop:

Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Hope Lutheran Church
2201 Secor Road
Toledo, Ohio.

The details are below.  I hope to see you there. And I hope your preaching is transformed.

What will the day-long workshop be like?
Several structured teaching segments (about 45 minutes each), with plenty of time for questions and interaction.

Why offer this?
Because I’ve learned a few things in my own preaching journey that I want to share to help you improve your preaching. And because, now more than ever: preaching matters.

When?
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
10 am – 4 pm

Where?
Hope Lutheran Church
2201 Secor Road
Toledo, Ohio

Can I get a preview?
Of course. Here are the main workshop titles:
1. Deconstructing the sermon: What are we doing when we preach?
2. One thing: Focus and clarity
3. Structure: The outline secret that has changed everything for me
4. Story: The insights of a good story applied to the sermon
5. Bonus content: Some things you haven’t thought much about — plus whatever else comes up

What’s the cost?
$197

Register here

What about lunch?
We will have pizza brought in.
If you have special dietary needs, please pack your own lunch.
Make sure you have a high-protein breakfast before you arrive.

Is there an attendance limit?
Yes. Because of the nature of the workshop, we will be limiting it to the first 12 who register.

Will I get a glossy workbook with lots of QR codes?
Probably not.
But you might get a minimalist workbook assembled at FedEx Office.

Will childcare be provided?
I wish we could… but unfortunately we can’t.

Will you tell jokes?
Possibly. We may even write some Jimmy Fallon-style thank you notes.

Will this make me famous?
Probably not. But it will improve your preaching. And your hearers will love you for it.

Register here

Testimonials
Matt has done your homework, read every preaching book there is, boiled it down to the barest of crib notes, and then packed it full of practical knowledge and good old-fashioned gospel that every preacher needs. The long and the short of it is, you need to hear what he has to say.  
-Pastor Adrianne Meier, blogging at The Gracious Present

I found Preach Better Fail Often one of the best workshops I’ve been to on preaching as a pastor. The small group format provided great conversation with colleagues about preaching and Matt’s insights are some I’ve returned to over and over this year. Get to this workshop!
-Pastor Mike Weaver, Pastoral Leadership Coach and author of the audio series Better Preaching Through Improvisation

Through the “Preach Better, Fail Often” workshop, Pastor Matt Musteric challenges us to rethink the purpose of our weekly preaching. His vulnerability, candor, and wit bring a real joy to the course. If you are interested in exploring a new way to communicate the timeless and precious Gospel of Jesus Christ, this workshop is for you.
-Pastor Daniel Beaudoin

Matt’s workshop has informed, in some way, every sermon I’ve preached since I participated in the workshop.
-Pastor Ralph Mineo

Have you ever met an email vampire? Andrew Mellen, in Unstuff Your Life, describes email vampires as people who respond to a short message with paragraphs, who respond to your one question with 30 more, who–when you answer those questions–have 100 more. It’s an endless, vicious cycle. Nothing ever gets resolved. The only guarantee is more time wasted on email… and often more heartache. He suggests cutting off all contact.

But what about when you cannot cut off contact? What about when you don’t want to?

What are other ways of dealing with email vampires?

I have six suggestions:

1. Dial it back. Instead of amplifying the conversation, make it smaller. Narrow it down to the one or two (at most) issues that seem to be at stake and focus on those in brief responses.

2. Kindler, gentler email. Tone it down. My experience with email has been that the sender generally intends a milder tone than what is written and the receiver often assumes a harsher tone. This is a recipe for misunderstanding. Use intentionally kinder, gentler language.

3. Pick up the phone. This one is the most obvious, of course. When you sense any email exchange is getting out of hand, offer to meet face to face (best) or talk by phone (second best). Tone and body language just cannot be communicated via e-text.

4. Turn down the burner. Years ago I had an email exchange that got out of hand quickly, and it was all my fault. I assumed the sender was being accusatory and I fired an email right back (We’re all email vampires on occasion, right?). Thankfully, that exchange was resolved helpfully… in person.

So now my rule is if an email raises my blood pressure a few points, my response waits 24 hours. If I’m really upset, 48 hours.

This works great in family life too. When I’m wise enough to remember these words, I say, “I’m too angry to talk about this right now and I don’t make good decisions when I’m angry.”

5. Treat email like mail. If it’s not interrupting you every seven seconds, some vampires just go away. I treat this more fully in this post.

6. Walk it out. There is something to talking and walking. Walking is God’s speed… where we can see and hear what the other person is actually saying. And walking together implies that we are at least to some degree on the same journey.

How long was your sermon on Sunday? Do you know? If you’re guessing, I bet you will estimate it to be shorter than it actually was.

TED talks are limited to 18 minutes.

A local TV news station advertises its first news block to be a whole 13 minutes without commercials.

You have about 20 seconds (or less) to capture someone’s attention watching your YouTube video.

We could argue all day about the length of attention spans. And I am not telling you how long your sermons should be. But I am convinced that attention these days must be earned and not presumed. Maybe it’s always been that way.

Here’s your call to action this week: Find someone to time your sermons, so you know exactly how long they are.

If you’re up for a bonus round, tell this person ahead of time when you will use a key word or gesture to indicate to them when you’ve noticed a significant number of people “check out.” Have them write that time down too.

This is something I am not very good at, but am working on.

Are you ready for it?

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Frustrated yet?

The thing I’m not good at? Placing a pause between when I encounter something and react to it.

How many times has that hastily-written, fire-loaded email helped your cause?

How many times has the quickly-typed social media reply changed someone’s mind?

How often has the “parenting by reaction” method worked for you?

Almost never, right?

I’m not very good at this (yet), but I find tremendous value in placing a holy pause there in that space. It allows God to work on me and it allows me to do some interior work.

Event. Pause. Then react.

It is said that if you want someone’s attention, begin with these words: “Once upon a time.” In that spirit, I offer my homily for Christmas Day…

‘Twas the night before Christmas
(based on Clement Clarke Moore’s “A Visit from St. Nicholas”)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the town
No room was found for our Savior, nowhere to settle down;

The manger was filled with fresh hay with great care,
In hopes that Emmanuel soon would be there;

The shepherds were nestled all asleep on the hill;
While visions of angels, the skies they would fill;

And Mary waiting expectantly, with a very full belly,
Had just settled into a stable that was smelly,

When out on the fields there arose such a clatter,
Shepherds cleared their sleepy eyes to see what was the matter.

Away to the manger they flew like a flash,
Leaving sheep behind for this 100-yard dash.

The angels and heavenly hosts sang out with full voice;
God had come to earth—they hardly had a choice!,

When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature child, held by his mother so dear,

With a little infant cry, that child, Mary’s one,
They knew in a moment he must be God’s Son.

More rapid than eagles his disciples they came,
Each one of them, this Savior, would call out by name:

Come Andrew, come Peter, come James and come John,
Come Judas, come Matthew – get your tax collecting on,
Now Phillip, Now Simon, Nathaniel and Jude,
On James number two, and that Doubting Thomas dude.

To the hill of the cross, to the empty tomb wall,
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

As flames that one Pentecost morning would fly
When they meet with Apostles, in many tongues they would cry.

So to the ends of the earth, his disciples they flew
With Mary, and Mary, and the other Mary too.

And then, in my life, I heard this call too.
Baptism joins him to me and to you.

Through straw and clay, friends digging through a roof
Rubbing shoulders with prostitutes, he never stayed aloof

As he gathered the crowds and fed them with bread
They sensed something bigger… a heavenly banquet was spread.

He was dressed very simply, not normal for a king
But his Kingdom, you see, was no normal thing

Stripes and scars he would bear on his back,
Nail wounds in his hands, and a promise to be back.

His eyes—how they pierced us. His gaze made us merry.
His crown was woven of thorns, how scary!

His beautiful frame was hanged on a cross,
They gambled for his clothes, rude dice they would toss.

Terrible nails they would fix in his hands and his feet,
He was lost and forsaken; everything spelled defeat.

But this tree had a purpose, and God had a plan,
To save the sinful world by this Son of Man.

He was wounded and beaten and gave up his last breath.
But in his dying he destroyed the fierce power of death.

On that dark Sabbath when all hope was lost,
Our Savior, our Jesus, paid too high a cost.

They wrapped up his body and left him for dead,
A white linen shroud from his feet to his head.

But early Sunday morning, most of the world still sleeping,
Some surprised grieving women began Gospel preaching.

He rose up from the grave, to his disciples gave a commission,
“To the ends of the earth–so that no one is missin’!”

And they heard him exclaim, as he ascended out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and e-ter-nal life!”

(c) 2015 Matthew D. Musteric

How did preaching go last week? Did you try the story (hero – guide) framework as a way of reshaping your sermon?

Last time we shared how Donald Trump uses story and clarity to win over his hearers and we focused on the elements of story. This week we are going to focus on… focus.

It is my firm conviction that because we think the story we have to tell is compelling (because it’s God’s word!), we mistakenly assume it is also clear to our hearers. 

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “If it’s a mist in the pulpit, it’s a fog in the pews.” That phrase was popular before social media and smartphones. Squirrel!

Are you absolutely crystal clear on your message? Can you describe the main point of your sermon in a simple sentence?

Borrowing loosely from Andy Stanley’s book Making Vision Stick, your sermon should have one main point. When you have that main point, you should:

1. Cast it clearly and
2. Repeat it regularly.

Cast it clearly: Turn your main point into a short memorable sentence or phrase. This takes some work but is worth it.

Repeat it regularly: What would it look like to sprinkle your main idea throughout your sermon, stating it several times, ideally (at the very least) at the beginning and the end?

Focus. Or squirrel. Your choice.

Whether or not you are fan of Donald Trump, this short video is worth your time.

[Go ahead with your 100 objections first… then watch it anyway.]

In it Donald Miller explains how Trump uses the key elements of a good story and clarity to win over his hearers. This week we’ll talk about story and next week we’ll focus on clarity.

In a nutshell (if you’re pressed for time today), Miller is a genius when it comes to the tried and true framework of how to tell a good story, namely:

1. There is a character
2. Who has a problem
3. Who meets a guide
4. Who gives them a plan
5. That calls them to action
6. That results in either success
7. …or failure.

The only part of the this framework that I want to focus on right now for preaching is the character with a problem that needs a guide.

What would it look like to reposition and reframe your sermon in such a way that your hearers are the hero and you are the guide who leads them to God, the ultimate Guide?

Try it.

If you’re interested in more about these topics, Donald Miller, Robert McKee and others have lots of insights to share about how the ancient framework of a good story makes what you are saying compelling.

In this podcast, Donald Miller explains in more detail how people want to be the hero of their own story, but are looking for a guide to help them navigate the challenges before them.

The video (17 minutes) and podcast (38 minutes) are well worth your time this week.

How did the sermon go yesterday?

I’m convinced that the season of Advent is one of the most challenging times of the year to preach. In other words, if the sermon fell flat yesterday, it might not have been because of you.

Think about all the distractions that surround Advent: Black Friday shopping, big football games, holiday preparation stress, extended family gathering stress. I wouldn’t be surprised if those who gathered in worship (in America) yesterday had a bit of a hard time paying attention.

In this uphill battle, however, is a gift inside a challenge.

The challenge: to win over the attention of your hearers.

The gift: a few more weeks of practice at getting really good at this.

As you prepare your sermon this week, wrestle with this question: What are you doing at the very beginning of your sermons that either captures (or gives up) the attention of your hearers?

Sit with that question until you have an answer you are satisfied with. Then preach on.

What is it? 

That’s a question worth asking of each part of your sermon.

At a recent event on public speaking that I attended, that was the question Rob Bell invited us to consider: What is each “thing” or “part”? And then: What does that look like?

Is your introduction an invitation to reflection? What shape might that take?

Is your ending a rousing call to action? What does that look like? What does that feel like?

Does the parable at the center of your sermon invite the use of props? Visuals? A subversive story?

Section each part of your sermon into chunks and then ask of each chunk: What is it? How is this best heard / seen / told / experienced?

In one sentence, can you articulate the point of the sermon you gave (or heard) this past Sunday?

[awkward pause]

Many sermons suffer from bad theology or lackluster delivery. Almost all sermons suffer from a lack of focus.

As you prepare to preach this week, what’s the one thing you want your hearers to get?

How will you make that crystal clear?

And more importantly: Are you prepared to focus on just one thing for each of the rest of your sermons for 2015?

P.S. All those other outstanding points you want to make? Save them for other sermons. Trust me.

I have a huge whiteboard in my study. It’s one of my favorite preaching tools. You should get one too.

I’ve never been quite comfortable with my workspace at the church building being called an “office,” though I spend plenty of time organizing things (shuffling papers). The sign on my door reads “study,” though that’s more something that I aspire to. I prefer Preacher’s Art Studio. (Reality check: This is where I would like to be, not where I’m at yet.)

Six years ago I attended Rob Bell’s Poets / Prophets / Preachers event in Grand Rapids. We created an accountability group to follow up with some of the insights shared at the conference. One thing I wanted to do was get a huge whiteboard for my study (studio).

So I did.

Where’s your creative space for preaching?

Maybe it’s a huge pad of easel paper.

Maybe it’s an old school chalk board. (That would be awesome.)

Maybe it’s a pack of Sharpies and a stack of plain index cards.

Maybe it’s a box of crayons or cans of Play-doh.

What is one change you can make in the next month that will remind you that preaching, among many things, is an art form?

Every year as Thanksgiving nears, I mumble: This is insane. There is no way we are going to [fill in insane activity] next year.

A few years ago, we actually began to change things as a family. These are some of the things we’ve learned on the way. Some we’ve nailed; others we’re still working on.

I know this topic is covered with landmines: relatives and friends with poor boundaries, incredibly high expectations (often from ourselves), a culture that screams “CONSUME!” and a nostalgic veneer that says this is the “most wonderful time of the year.” But Advent can also be a time of incredible hope, joy and love. 

So here are my top 10 steps to a more sane Christmas.

Make a budget and stick to it. Having a reasonable Christmas budget and sticking to it is the most sane way to begin Christmas planning. Dave Ramsey’s organization has a lot of material on how to do this. This often involves up-front conversations with adult parents and children about how Christmas is going to be “different” (read: simpler) this year, but it’s well worth it.

Cancel everything. During the lead up to Christmas there are already a ton of activities that automatically appear on our calendar. Dial back as much of the other, regular stuff as you can. I like to treat December like July on my calendar: Assume everyone else has a full schedule and try not to add anything to it.

Buy an Advent wreathe–and use it. We began with a simple brass Advent wreathe years ago and have since upgraded to this one by Carruth. What makes it work, however, is lighting the candles together as a family and sharing devotions together.

Finish your Christmas shopping before December 1. I got this idea from Glennon Doyle Melton. This leaves a little wiggle room for those who actually kind of like the insanity of Black Friday. (Personally, I think you are sick, sick, sick… but that’s another conversation.) But it also means you can spend December not in a mall.

Get out of your family. (Some of you are already thinking this means something else.) What I mean is: Decide early how you can bless someone else besides those you’re related to and friends with. In Luke 14, Jesus invites his disciples to have a banquet for those who can’t pay us back. Getting out of (only giving to) our family helps us experience giving more fully.

Get rid of decorations when you put the tree up… and when you take it down. This has been a game changer. Each year, when we haul all the decorations out we choose some to donate. And then when we pack everything back up during the new year, we make another trip to Goodwill.

Move your family Christmas party. Nowhere in the biblical stories of the Nativity does God say, Thou shalt have thy family Christmas party before Christmas. Some of the best “Christmas” parties I’ve ever been to have been in early November or well into January. Why not have an Epiphany party on January 6?

Cut up and cancel your credit cards. This is more a “love your neighbor” thing this year, anyway. Who is the sadist who thought it was going to be a good idea to put the new cards with chips embedded in them in circulation right before the holiday retail season? In all seriousness, though, we have been credit card free since December 2008. It’s been one of the best decisions for our family and for our marriage. Plus, you can tell all of your friends you are having plastic surgery for Christmas!

Be present in the moment. The little books by Thich Nhat Hanh have been very helpful for me in this area. I still have a long way to go. But I feel like I’m beginning on the right path.

Lighten up, Francis. I mean this in three ways. First, have lots of lights. It’s the one Christmas excess I truly love. Two, lighten up in terms of stress. It’s just Christmas. No one was even ready for the first Christmas… and perhaps that’s the point. Three, Pope Francis has helped many of us lighten up and turn our faces to the Christ who appears in our midst.

Happy Advent, people!

This is a milk jug from Costco.

If you have not had the pleasure of pouring your morning cereal milk out of one of these, you must not like to spill milk.

It truly is worth crying over.

The jug, as far as I can tell, was designed either by a sadist… or by an engineer who was asked to come up with a milk jug that could be stacked 12 high on a pallet for easy shipment and storage.

I’m sure these nearly-rectangular-shaped jugs stack really well. Here’s the thing, though: They do a terrible job at their chief function: pouring milk.

This is what happens when you design a product, a system, a service that serves the functionality of the creator (or middleman) with little or no concern for the end user.

Are you building it for you… or are you building it to serve others?

I am creating a mailing list by preachers and for preachers.

If you’re interested in getting a lot of free tips and content to improve your preaching, sign up below.

Except for times when I’m promoting a new workshop or idea, I won’t send these more than once per week. (It drives me nuts when I get too much email too!)

I’ve developed a preaching workshop that used to be called Preach Better Fail Often.

I’m expanding that workshop to a whole suite (sweet!) of fun stuff under the umbrella of PreachFormation.

I hope you’ll join me in this new adventure.

Today is my baptismal birthday. It’s also St. Matthew’s feast day. I love it that I share the day I was born again with a tax collector who was, at Jesus’ call, turned into a disciple.

I mean, isn’t that all of us? Not, I left my mess behind and now I’ve arrived, but instead, Dear Lord, I’m still such a mess… but you have still invited me to follow you. And so I go. Thanks for loving me.

Or, as one of my favorite seminary professors put it as he opened class each year, “Hi, I’m Tony, a sinner… washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

I was a weak, premature baby. It’s amazing I even made it to my baptism day, even as an infant. But God is near to the weak and the suffering. God delights in the premature. (It was probably my first experience of God’s timing not being my timing.)

My name means “Gift of God.” I suppose that could lead toward arrogance (It would have been a great line when I was dating in high school, right?), but for me it’s all grace: that all of who I am comes as a sheer gift of God.

What is your baggage around the idea of money? What money-related behaviors would you like to change in your life?

Perhaps you grew up in a family where the budget was tight and there was little extra money and so you developed a picture around money that had a big “SCARCITY” sign attached to it.

Perhaps you were part of a relationship where frivolous use of money (sometimes also coupled with extraordinary debt) made you nervous about money.

Maybe you’re at a point in your life where you are wondering if you will ever get beyond living paycheck to paycheck.

I want to let you in on a secret: It’s not simply how much money we make (or have), but our baggage around what money is and how we behave with the money that flows through our life that matter. 

Personal finance has been a growing interest of mine for some time now. My thoughts have been shaped by Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University, Joe Dominguez’s and Vicki Robin’s Your Money or Your Life, Andy Stanley’s Fields of Gold and How to Be Rich: It’s Not What You Have. It’s What You Do With What You Have. Most recently, I have been captivated by Francis Chan’s sermon in this collection: The True Value of Money (Faith Builders Book 3).

One of my favorite quotes from Dave Ramsey is that succeeding with money is 20% head knowledge and 80% behavior. In my own financial journey, I have found both aspects to be important, but behavior trumps knowledge every time. This week I invite you to consider both.

Take the questions below, write them on a notecard, and discuss them with those closest to you:

1. What things did I grow up learning about money that I no longer believe to be true?

2. What behaviors surrounding money would I most like to change in the next six months?

How many incomes do you have?

Most of us would answer quickly, “Duh. One. And it’s not enough.”

What would it be like to add another income stream? Or two? Or fifteen?

Last week I was listening to Ramit Sethi’s webinar on generating side income (of I Will Teach You to Be Rich fame) and he said something that I’m still thinking about.

Instead of thinking in terms of one side project and income stream, what about fifteen of them?

Now developing fifteen additional income streams is going to take some time, but coming up with fifteen ideas, fifteen things you know how to do, can take as little as fifteen minutes.

Here’s an exercise for you:

1. Grab a yellow pad.
2. List fifteen things you can do or would like to try (no editing).
3. Dream about the multiple income stream possibilities of these ideas.
4. Grin from ear to ear.

Fifteen ideas in fifteen minutes… that’s it for today.

If you’re like me, you pick up a book or a t-shirt or something that you spent “good money” on and you think, “I really should donate this, but…”

What is your “but…”? My “but” usually is…

“But I paid good money for this.”

This is often combined with… “And I feel stupid getting rid of something I just bought two minutes / days / weeks / months ago.”

My internal dialog goes something like this:

You work hard for your money.

And you spent your hard-earned money on this thing (for me it’s often books and shirts).

And now you want to get rid of it?

What a waste!

Are you regularly this careless this money or this stupid with your purchases?

What does it say about you if you donate something you bought less than a month ago?

What is wrong with you?

(Again, most of this is all in my head. I usually repeat this dialog a few times.)

My faith calls me to look at things a little differently…

To accept that I will continue to make silly, stupid and sometimes sinful decisions, but that Jesus stands ready to forgive me, raise me up and reform me into one of his faithful disciples.

To acknowledge and confess my waste of the resources entrusted to me and my pollution of the world around me… and to groan in prayer for my redemption and the redemption of the whole world.

To put a holy pause between my future paychecks and my future purchases, perhaps punctuated with prayer (and alliteration).

So… next time you’re going through mountains of clothes, books you have no intention of reading, or whatever those things are for you…

May you know the forgiveness that is yours in Jesus.

May you be honest about your shortcomings and sins.

And may you make a holy pause between your paychecks and purchases, punctuated with prayer. 

If you spend the first 90 minutes of the day doing what you love, the rest is details.

The second round of my Preach Better, Fail Often workshop is returning to Northwest Ohio.

If you’re like me, you hunger to preach better. You’re your own worst critic when it comes to your sermons. And yet you also believe in the power of preaching, that it can convict and change hearts, minds and lives. You long to preach sermons that communicate God’s transforming love for us in Jesus with power and conviction.

You might also struggle with comments from your hearers: a desire that your sermons be more “applicable” and “practical” and “connect with their everyday lives.” And yet you don’t want to sell out and become just another motivational speaker dressed up as a pastor. You get their hunger for engagement, but don’t want to serve them exactly what they are asking for.

You may have heard simplistic advice like, “Just preach the Gospel” or “Don’t tell people what they should do,” but were never given a framework for preaching that takes you step-by-step through a structure that connects God’s word with our everyday lives. I will teach you to do that in a one day workshop.

Taking a course in communications at a local university can cost several thousand dollars. Online workshops on improving your communication skills often run $1,000. For just $197 I’m offering a day-long workshop on preaching that will change the way you deliver your sermons and how your hearers receive them.

I’d love for you to join us for Preach Better Fail Often on Tuesday, September 29, 2015 at Zoar Lutheran Church in Perrysburg, Ohio. The details are below.  I hope to see you there. And I hope your preaching is transformed.

What will the day-long workshop be like?
Lots of teaching segments (about 45 minutes each), with plenty of time for questions and interaction.

Why offer this?
Because I’ve learned a few things in my own preaching journey that I want to share to help you improve your preaching. And because, now more than ever: preaching matters.

When?
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
9:00 am – 4:30 pm

Where?
Zoar Lutheran Church
314 E. Indiana Ave., Perrysburg, Ohio  43551 (Toledo area)

Can I get a preview?
Of course. Here are the main workshop titles:
1. Deconstructing the sermon: What are we doing when we preach?
2. One thing: Focus and preaching
3. Structure: The outline secret that has changed everything for me
4. The tomb is empty: The urgency of preaching
5. Bonus content: Things you haven’t thought much about (Plus whatever comes up.)

What’s the cost?
$197 per person

Register here: http://tinyurl.com/LT8493S

What about lunch?
We will have lunch brought in. Please bring $10 cash the day of the workshop. Make sure you have a high-protein breakfast before you arrive.

Is there an attendance limit?
Yes. Because of the nature of the workshop, we will be limiting it to 12 participants.

Will I get a glossy workbook with lots of QR codes?
Probably not.
But you might get a minimalist comb-bound old-school workbook assembled the evening before at FedEx Office.

Will childcare be provided?
I wish we could… but unfortunately we can’t.

Will you tell jokes?
Possibly. We may even write some Jimmy Fallon-style thank you notes.

Will there be a t-shirt?
You’ll have to register to find out.

Testimonials
Matt has done your homework, read every preaching book there is, boiled it down to the barest of crib notes, and then packed it full of practical knowledge and good old-fashioned gospel that every preacher needs. The long and the short of it is, you need to hear what he has to say.       -Pastor Adrianne Meier, blogging at The Gracious Present

I found Preach Better Fail Often one of the best workshops I’ve been to on preaching as a pastor. The small group format provided great conversation with colleagues about preaching and Matt’s insights are some I’ve returned to over and over this year. Get to this workshop!        -Pastor Mike Weaver, founder of The Group Mind and author of the series Better Preaching Through Improvisation

Through the “Preach Better, Fail Often” workshop, Pastor Matt Musteric challenges us to rethink the purpose of our weekly preaching. His vulnerability, candor, and wit bring a real joy to the course. If you are interested in exploring a new way to communicate the timeless and precious Gospel of Jesus Christ, this workshop is for you.         -Pastor Daniel Beaudoin

Confession: I live a lot of my life trying to meet the expectations of others.

Many people are heading back to school this time of year. I remember it as a time of hopeful expectations and also daunting expectations.

But here’s the thing: Often when it comes to expectations, it’s actually about me trying to meet what I think are the expectations of others.

It’s an endless, insane game. Have you ever played? 1. Guess at the expectations of someone else. 2. Try to meet it. 3. Fall short. 4. Kick yourself. 5. Rinse. Repeat.

How about putting away that game board and making another one?

Let’s all do the amazing and creative work that God has called us to.

And all those “expectations”? I don’t know. What would Mary Poppins do?

Are you living and serving from a place of reaction or a place of rest?

Sarah Mackenzie has written about this topic on her blog and in an ebook: Teaching from Rest.

What I love about her work is that it begins with God’s grace and God’s provision.

It’s what’s at stake in the Sabbath commandment: when we rest, we show our trust in God.

C.S. Lewis puts it this way: “He who has God and everything else has no more than he who has God only.”

Blessings on your week. God is enough.

What gets on the calendar, more often than not, gets done.

What does your ideal week look like?

Michael Hyatt argues that we should at least have an ideal week in mind. (I also like his idea of themes and focal points for each day.)

For a long time I avoided planning an ideal week because an ideal week never happens. I now realize it was mostly an excuse.

The point of designing an ideal week is so that you have something to shoot for–and so your email inbox or the next “urgent crisis” does not run the show. 

Think of your life like a beautiful screenplay for a movie. On the one hand, we know that some of the best parts of movies were never written in the original script. On the other hand, few movies even get to production and distribution without a full script.

Ad lib. Be spontaneous. Carpe diem. But write the script. 

What are you settling for?

Henry Cloud has reminded me that we often put up with a lot of pain in the present (in relationships, in work, in life in general), “hoping” things will get better. Then we are surprised that months and years later we get more of the same.

He suggests this trick: Project what this relationship, situation, etc. will look like six months, one year, five years in the future, given a natural trajectory. Picture it. Feel it.

Then move on it. Make the necessary changes.

After all, before there were settlers, somebody had to move.

What can you give up (or take on) for 30 days?

What changes do you desire for your life?

Last summer, my family and I began our journey toward minimalism: fewer possessions, a simplified lifestyle, living more intentionally. As part of that journey, we played the 30 Day Minimalism Game. The premise is simple: Each day, get rid of the number of items for that day. Day one you get rid of one thing and by Day 30 you’re moving 30 things out of the house.

I believe challenges like this work for three reasons:

1. Consistency. When you do something every day for 30 days, it approaches “habit” status. You may have heard that it takes 21 days to form a new habit. Current research suggests it’s closer to 66 days. In any case, doing something every day over time allows new connections to be made in our brains.

2. Momentum. The key to the 30 day minimalism game is momentum that builds over time. After the first week, our mindset shifts from “I could never do that” to “I can do this.” We haven’t used a credit card since December 2008. The practice is effortless for us now.

3. The power of small wins. We learned this truth through Dave Ramsey’s “Debt Snowball.” He argues that making progress with personal finance is 20% knowledge and 80% behavior. Instead of paying your highest-interest-rate debt first, Ramsey advises paying the smallest debt first, because small “wins” do something to our mindset when it comes to motivation. Small wins, over time, add up to big wins and significant life changes.

This month, I’m trying 30 days off of Facebook and 30 days without buying anything on Amazon. We’ll see how it works.

What’s your 30 day challenge?

Thank God it’s Monday!

I’m sure that’s the mantra that you begin every work week with, right? Right? Right?

(crickets)

Why not? 

God has given us this incredible gift of work. If you’re working today, you’re not unemployed. Thanks be to God!

Maybe you’re not “fulfilled” or “satisfied” in your work? What would it mean to lean into the work that you have or (if it’s that bad), make plans for what’s next? You have incredible freedom. Thanks be to God!

You have a whole week to live out the calling that God has given you for your life. Most of the real action begins Monday morning… in the halls of business, government and commerce. Thanks be to God!

Thank God it’s Monday. Thank God for Monday.

How do you handle criticism?

Short answer? Not well.

If you’re like me, you go through all the grief stages: sadness, anger, etc. Some people handle criticism like a ninja: gracefully and expertly. Most of the rest of us are terrible at receiving and responding to criticism. (If you’re unsure, ask those closest to you how they think you handle criticism.)

Is there a better way?

In his book Today We Are Rich: Harnessing the Power of Total Confidence, Tim Sanders* shares a method he was taught as a young man. Criticism is like a walnut. Eat any of the meat that is in there and throw out the shell.

This presumes that there is probably a little (or a lot) of truth in any criticism, if we are open enough to listen to it, receive it, and make course corrections.

But this meat is often wrapped and delivered in a very tough shell. We’re not supposed to eat the walnut shell. That would be dumb.

Once in a while we receive criticism that is all meat. (These are your friends.) And once in a while we receive criticism that is all shell. (These are not.) Most times, it’s a little of both.

Eat the good stuff; throw away the shell.

*I’m 90% sure this is where I got this insight. If I’m incorrect, please let me know.

When I was a kid, I loved turning over the cinderblocks and other stones that lined our family’s small backyard garden. Instead of just wet dirt, I found an entire world of creatures (mostly bugs). It was glorious.

Apply this process to criticism and all of the undesirable stuff that comes your way. It’s so easy to see these things as roadblocks, stones in the way of the journey. Stumbling blocks.

Take some time and turn them over. Perhaps around or inside of these stumbling blocks, these “stones in the way” is a whole new world of possibility waiting to be discovered, explored, mined for meaning.

Leave no stone unturned–especially those in your way.

This time of year is crazy busy for many. I remember one particular May several years ago that was so filled with activity that it prompted a discussion with my wife and in our family about priorities, commitments and our overall lifestyle. It was a difficult conversation, but it was also a necessary conversation.

Over time, I began to discover this simple truth: More margin in your schedule means a fuller, deeper life. The opposite side of this truth is even more stark: Too little margin your schedule will–over the long run–kill you.

In that spirit, here are a few simple exercises and some reflections:

1. Observe, just today, the others around you. Do they have margin in their schedule or is everything scheduled to the minute? Have they planned time to encounter the unexpected during their day or have they scheduled more than even God could accomplish?

2. Next, look at your own schedule for the week or month ahead. Is there any breathing room? Is there space to just relax, breathe, be? Wouldn’t that be so freeing, to block some time in your calendar that just reads, “Lighten up, Francis”?

3. Begin building margin into your regular schedule until it feels right. For some that is simply 10 minutes between appointments, so if you’re scheduling on the hour, all things must end at 10 minutes before the hour. For others, it’s more time. Find what works for you and fight for / insist on the margin.

4. Ask those closest to you if there is enough margin in your schedule for them. This is where you will get your most honest and helpful answer. Listen well and adjust accordingly.

Where is your margin your day? Your week? Youth month? Your year?

In a few weeks, the church will mark the Festival of the Ascension. But not very well. Some have transferred this festival, which is supposed to occur 40 days after Easter (a Thursday), to the following Sunday. Sometimes it is swallowed up in the whirlwind of springtime soccer, baseball and planting. In many places, it is simply forgotten.

Whether you’re celebrating the Ascension of Jesus or not, here are some reflections:

1. The Ascension is terrifying. Better: The ten days between Jesus’ Ascension into heaven and the giving of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost must have been terrifying for the early church, precisely because they did not know how long it would be before the promised Advocate would be given.

2. The Ascension is hopeful. It is the crucified and risen Jesus who ascends to the Father and therefore our flesh is now interior to the life of God. The Ascension is the completion of Christ’s work and shows that Jesus is completely committed to our redemption.

3. The Ascension is eschatological. As Jesus ascends into heaven, we are told he will return in the same way. He will come again in this way. But here’s the twist… instead of bringing us up to heaven, he will come back to earth. There will be a new heaven and a new earth (Revelation) and the firmament established in Genesis between the “things above” and the “things below” will finally be removed and Christ will be “all in all” (Colossians).

So on May 14 this year: Happy Christi Himmelfahrt, as they say in German (Christ’s heavenly ride)!

After a long Monday of crazy people at work and at home, why not turn up the speakers and have a dance party?

Why not?

How do you read that title?

Have two? Give one! or (I) Have to give one.

Which is it? Probably both.

Today’s post is inspired by the work of Mark Scandrette and his book Practicing the Way of Jesus. He and his friends tried an experiment based on Luke 3:11, the invitation of John the Baptist to prepare the way for the Messiah by giving away half of what you have.

What I love about the experiment is that he took the Gospel call seriously and practiced it in community. But I also like the two ways of reading it:

Invitation: Have two? Give one!

Challenge: I have to give one.

Sometimes the call to follow Jesus is gracious invitation; sometimes it is a deeply rooted impluse (I have to do this.).

I first encountered Scandrette’s work through the Animate: Faith video series and his book Free: Spending Your Time and Money on What Matters Most. The Free book helped crystalize some thoughts that I’ve been wrestling with since we have begun downsizing our possessions as a family, such as:

What if the Gospel call is a call to downward mobility?

What if God has given us far more than we can imagine, but we are often poor managers?

What if when Jesus invites the rich man to sell all he has and give to the poor, he is speaking to us too?

What if in living the hard sayings of Jesus, we experience the freedom Jesus brings?

Scandrette’s community did the Have2Give1 experiments for 8 weeks. That’s about as long as a summer these days.

Do you have two of something? Give one away. 

Who’s in?

Is it the hero that “makes” a good story… or is it someone else?

I’m reading Donald Miller’s latest book, Scary Close: Dropping the Act and Finding True Intimacy. As he wrestles with his own life story (and the one he tells the world), he remembers that while the hero is important to any good story, it’s the guide that makes the hero come alive.

Think Yoda. Think Mr. Miyagi.

To a certain extent we are all heroes of own lives, our own stories. But the real question is: Who is your guide?

How many things do you do 12 times a year simply because there are 12 months in the year?

How many things do you do 5 or 7 days a week simply because there are 5 days (in a work week) or 7 days in a week?

In other words, how many things in your life are limited by arbitrary rhythms of an arbitrary calendar?

What about 13 months in the year (lunar months) instead of 12?

What about a 4 day week instead of 5 day week?

What about 6 or 8 week blocks?

Why not?

Be weird. And let the rest of the world flip the calendar.

Did you catch Andy Stanley’s string of tweets during the Southern Baptist Convention’s meeting last summer? Gold.

One of the themes of the convention was “pray for revival.” Andy Stanley countered that with “get busy” and “do something.” You can read all about it on the interwebs.

I don’t think Stanley was criticizing prayer or revival per se. I think he was criticizing congregations and pastors that like to talk a good talk about prayer and “reaching out” for Christ without actually doing something. “I’ll pray about it” sometimes becomes a convenient way to make it all God’s fault if it doesn’t happen.

Shane Claiborne and others have invited us to consider not praying for anything for which you are not willing to be part of the answer. Something like: Don’t ask God to feed the hungry if you’re not willing to make a sandwich and deliver it.

I’m not sure it’s that easy, but I get the sentiment. Prayer is so powerful, so amazing that it cannot help but change us. Prayer invites us into the mind and heart of God himself… and then sets us on a path to do what God desires. To bring it all together, true prayer is the revival of the Holy Spirit in us that compels us to do something and get busy. 

With apologies to Friday Night Lights, maybe it’s something like: Hands held high. Boots on the ground. Can’t lose.

Get busy.

Moses was an awful dad.

Moses, of course, is remembered most for hearing God’s call in the burning bush and leading the people of Israel out of Egypt by at God’s command.

But he was an awful father–at least based on what we know from the biblical evidence.

In Exodus, chapter 18, Moses is in the wilderness. Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, brings his wife and two sons to Moses in the wilderness. Presumably Moses had either temporarily or permanently abandoned them. Then, in the same chapter, Jethro lectures Moses on how he is going to collapse or implode if he continues in his leadership style.

Might these two realities be related? Does Moses’ abandonment of his family and his inability to lead have anything to do with each other? 

I think they do.

Moses already knows he cannot do it (leadership) alone, show in the battle with the Amalekites in Exodus 17. He needs Aaron and Hur to hold up his arms. But by chapter 18, it is clear that the message has not stuck for Moses.

Enter Jethro, Zipporah, Gershom (means: “foreigner”) and Eliezer (“God is my helper”).

Moses cannot do this alone and he needs his father-in-law to set him straight. Note also that all of this is before the Sinai covenant is made and the Ten Commandments are received.

What are lessons we can learn from this story?

1. A leader cannot ignore his / her family. Leadership is never “apart from” the relationships God has called us into… instead leadership is shaped and defined by these relationships.

2. A leader never works alone. Leaders always need a community or a core team to hold them up, to keep them accountable, and to keep them focused on the work they are called to do?

3. Every leader needs a Jethro. Every leader needs someone “outside the system” to take an honest look at the system and show us how to course correct. We need someone like Jethro to tell us when our present course of action is not sustainable.

Around every Moses is a Zipporah, a Gershom, an Eliezer, an Aaron, a Hur and a Jethro. Who are yours?

Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have I give thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.

This song is my earliest church memory. It’s also my most important. And at its heart it speaks to just about everything that is right with the persecuted church around the world and everything that is wrong with the church in North America.

The story is from the book of Acts, chapter 3. It witnesses to the power of Jesus’ resurrection in the early church. Peter and John heal a man who cannot walk. But I think there is more here at stake than two apostles performing a healing miracle in the name of Jesus. I think this story has power for the church today, if we dare to listen.

The opposite of this story is true of the church in North America. No longer can we say truthfully: Silver and gold have I none. Living in the richest part of the world with mega churches, mega budgets and mega crowds, we are spiritually impoverished. Do you think there is a connection between a church with lots of silver and gold and no power to make people rise up and walk? And, conversely, do you think a church with fewer material resources might find its resurrection power in Jesus and no other?

If you’d like to read more, check out Peyton Jones’ book, Church Zero: Raising 1st Century Churches out of the Ashes of the 21st Century Church. I’m just getting started, but this one is a game changer.

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which marks the beginning of the Christian season of Lent, a forty-day journey in which we are renewed in our baptism, contemplate the sufferings of Christ, and prepare for the celebration of Easter.

But here’s the thing: Lent has become, for many of us, one more “thing” to add into an already overbooked schedule: extra Wednesday services, extra time spent in prayer, extra offerings to care for the poor… extra, extra, extra! Lent begins to look more like “breaking news” or really just “more of the same” than a time set apart to give and receive the gifts of God.

This is all deeply ironic for this Lutheran, for whom the belief that “we cannot save ourselves” is deeply central. We say Jesus is sufficient for us and for our salvation; we live as if it all depended on us.

At the risk of overusing a popular Disney song, what would it mean to celebrate a “Let it go” Lent?

1. First, I think it would begin in the land of 1,000 Nos. If we are adding weekly mid-week worship, for example, what are we giving up? If we are adding extra time for prayer and Bible reading, what time are we giving up? Sometimes we have to say no to several things to say yes to the few things that matter.

The beautiful thing is that our self-denial makes room for God to work in us to bless the world around us.

Deny yourself. 

2. I think it would mean more time spent praying for, and being around, those who are suffering. “Thinking” about the sufferings of Jesus can be done from a distance. Prayerfully contemplating them draws us even closer. Meeting Jesus in his suffering ones (cf. Matthew, chapter 25) will mess you up in the best way possible.

The beautiful thing is that God’s sufferings ones are beautiful and beloved–and that we are invited into that beauty.

Take up your cross.

3. Finally, it would involve doing whatever it takes to love and live more like Jesus. This is the transformation Lent intends to work in us anyway. This is what baptism is about: that is no longer I who live but Christ who lives within me (Galatians 2:20).

The beautiful thing is that following Jesus is the best thing you’ll ever do with your life.

Follow Jesus.

I’m already praying as I write these things and the implications of these things are terrifying for me. Will you join me?

Or you can just do what you did last year.