Why did we ban energy drinks at our youth clubs?

I came across a Facebook post today asking about energy drinks in youth clubs, particularly Monster, Rockstar and Red Bull. What surprised me was the overwhelming amount of responses saying they gave them out freely as refreshments, or sold them in tuck shops, and didn’t see a problem with doing so. That bugged me a little so I thought I’d take a minute to lay out why we took the decision to ban them from ours.

Wee little disclaimer. I’m not judging any adult who likes the odd energy drink. Go nuts! This post is about why I won’t give them to young people at our registered youth clubs.

1. They are illegal to sell to under 16s in the UK

Yup. We shouldn’t be selling them to younger teenagers anyway because we’re not allowed to. There was a lot of debate on this, and in the end, it was one of Theresa May’s very last pieces of legislation as Prime Minster. We believe that Christians should obey the law of the land so far as it doesn’t stop us from sharing the gospel.

2. They are hugely unhealthy

Although rare, there were quite a few high-profile incidents with adolescents consuming these drinks including seizures, delirium, rapid heart rate, strokes, and even death. In the US, in just four years visits to emergency rooms due to energy drink consumption doubled to nearly 21,000.

In the UK the NHS laid out all the ways energy drinks can complicate or even create health issues in young people including caffeine overdose, type 2 diabetes, late miscarriages, neurological and cardiovascular problems, poor dental health and obesity. There’s also reports of abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, headaches, breathing problems, insomnia, stress, jitters and tremors. Ouch!

Considering teenagers aren’t supposed to have more than 100mg of caffeine a day – and drinks like Rockstar and Monster nearly double that in one 500ml can with 160-200mg of caffeine – you can see why these problems occur. These are also synthetic caffeines, which are absorbed into the body far more quickly.

3. They emulate drinking culture

If you look at the advertising campaigns, logos, fonts, can sizes and shapes, the added colourings and flavours, then it really looks like they’ve tried hard to brand in the alcohol market rather than in the soft drinks market – yet they are still advertising to young people through video games and action sport. They’re sometimes called ‘transitional’ drinks because all these subversive associations can ease a underage person’s connection with certain alcohol brands.

This might be why it’s becoming even more popular to mix these drinks with alcohol which often happens underage (15% of teenagers reported to have mixed energy drinks and alcohol). It’s these mixed drinks that produce the most dangerous results for young people, and is a reason why many end up in emergency rooms.

4. They make life really hard work!

This isn’t a random cracking of the whip, we want to be consistent. We also stopped selling skittles from our tuck shop (which are an absolute party of calories, fat, sugars, and e-numbers!). We want to have fun with kids, and we do serve things like chocolate and even give out doughnuts. We also recognise, though, that their bodies are massively imbalanced and unpredictable chemistry sets. We draw the line on anything that is so overloaded that it’ll make them bounce off the walls. Fun – yes; hype – no. Silly nonsense yes; tumultuous explosions and devastating comedowns – nope.

We just don’t want to add to a culture that already makes teenagers massively stressed out and anxious. We’d like there to be feelings of peace, security, consistency and safety associated with our youth groups. I just can’t square that away with serving energy drinks – so we don’t.

All the best.

 

Photo by Jozsef Hocza on Unsplash

How to talk to young people about ghosts

For people of faith and miracles, we can be surprisingly blasé about other people’s beliefs. It’s not uncommon for a youth worker to respond to a question about aliens, ghosts, mediums, telepathy etc. with some variation of ‘well that’s all just nonsense!’

This can be especially hard for a young person to swallow when in the very next breath we expect them to believe in what’s fundamentally unseen and ask them to engage in rituals that communicate with some ‘other’ being behind an essentially spiritual curtain.

‘Well that’s all just nonsense… now let me tell you about how the Holy Spirit is all around us all the time and can even give us pictures and words for people. Let’s wait in a circle in the dark with some candles lit and our hands open and ask him to show Himself to us…’

Surface hypocrisy aside, when we unceremoniously write off concepts such as ghosts, we could also inadvertently trigger immensely entrenched issues in a young person’s development.

Ghosts and mental triggers

Young people process the abstract and fearful concept of death very differently, and regardless whether or not they have suffered bereavement themselves, thinking about ghosts can jab hard at complicated experiences and even mental trauma.

When you add to this the many books, boxsets and movies they consume with paranormal themes – during their turbulent cognitive development – there is a just lot for their imaginations to draw on.

For some young people, the concept of ghosts can be part of how they process grief and feel connected to a person they have lost. This can have huge ramifications for understanding things like prayer.

Then there are young people who are so sure that they, or someone they know, has had a paranormal encounter; seen a ghost, heard a whisper, felt a presence. Even though its easy (and maybe likely) that these experiences are the result of autosuggestion and hysteria, writing them off as such doesn’t help the young people who experienced something.

When I was thirteen, our class went on an adventure holiday set in a 16th Century Manor house. By the end of the week we were all ‘convinced’ that we had seen the ghostly ‘white lady’ spectre who haunts the tower, but one or two young people were genuinely terrified that they truly had – and left traumatised by the trip.

Natural spiritual curiosities

There is some overlap between our spiritual world of faith, and the possible world of the paranormal. I’m inclined to think that much of the latter is largely a misunderstanding of the former. It’s a little bit like walking around with a Wi-Fi phone, registering hotspots, but not having the password to actually get online. You know that there’s something around that you can’t see, but you can’t understand what it truly is without Jesus. This means that there could be something going on in some of these ‘paranormal’ experiences – truly and really – but just mistakenly identified and labelled.

When it comes to young people, the muscles being exercised by supernatural questions are similar muscles needed for faith. You can use a bicep to lend a hand or punch a face; it’s still the same muscle, even with a dramatically different focus.

Young people are naturally curious about the supernatural, they walk around with their Wi-Fi radars on. They are receptive to ghost stories, UFO conspiracies, mind reading, magic and monsters because it stretches that curiosity muscle. So much of our faith, such as Jesus rising from the dead, prayer, communion, miracles, omnipresence, etc. uses that same muscle. So, just stamping down on their curiosities isn’t the answer. If we do, we might not like where they go to scratch that itch.

Even if we believe things like ghosts are either 1) completely fabricated and untrue, or 2) are more likely the work of spiritual forces in the world (demons, angels etc.), just writing off the experiences and the natural curiosities of young people is lazy at best and damaging at worst.

So, what can we do?

Embrace the question

When these questions come up, engage them. Let curiosity have its day without just throwing concepts out the window like flaming bags of poop. You’re right to give your Christian response but do so with the same wisdom and sensitivity that you would show a question on something like the problem of suffering.

Facilitate the conversation

Ask the room to share their experiences and stories. You’ll be amazed at what comes up and from who! Not only will this provide important information about your young people, but it will help create that ‘safe space’ of sharing that we’re always railing on about. Always bring your faith to bear on the conversation, but with wisdom and respect.

Know your Bible

Know where you stand on passages like 1 Sam. 28, where Saul talks with Samuel’s ‘ghost.’ Ask why people thought Jesus a ‘ghost’ in Matt. 14 and Lk. 24? Study the ‘spiritual realms’ in Eph. 6, Col. 1 and 1 Pt. 3. Look closely at angels, prayer, prophecy, visions, and other ‘phenomena’ as signs of the spiritual world. Don’t be ignorant about demons, or the spiritual battles fought over us.

Point to Jesus

As with all theology, point to Jesus. Look at how his incarnation, life, death, teaching, resurrection, ascension and return inform questions about ghosts and spirits. Look at ‘life after death’, and make sure you bring that to the conversation. Always ask ‘what does our faith in Jesus do to this?’

Go gently

Because of the mixture of people in a room, and the complex triggers surrounding death and the unseen, go gently. Your job is to point young people to Jesus in a safe and constructive way, it’s not to square every circle, dot every ‘i’ and cross every ‘t’. You don’t need you to steamroll over anything that ‘isn’t’ quite right.’ Believe me, if you focus on their faith in Jesus, God can handle the rest – He’s got their lifetimes to do it.

 

 

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What are primary issues? And have you made your secondary issue into one?

‘No, this is important!’ I said over the breakfast table to a small audience that was slowly losing interest. ‘You can’t sit on the fence about it, you need to make a decision – don’t you think that Oasis was a more commercially successful band than Supergrass?’

Perhaps the breakfast table at my very middle class, conservative-evangelical Bible college wasn’t the best forum to exhort my passion for 90’s Brit Pop, but that didn’t deter me. I thought it was important – so everyone else had to too.

It’s easy to say, ‘make the main thing the main thing’ or even ‘don’t get caught up in secondary issues’, but in reality, a secondary issue that we are particularly passionate about, will always be to us, a primary issue. But what truly is a primary issue? What’s a secondary issue? Who decides and are those really the only categories we have to work with?

And so, the debates continue, the arguments grow louder, and the church appears to be more tribal, polarised, and argumentative.

Knowing the difference between what makes a difference

Bishop Tom Wright preached a farewell message at Durham Cathedral in 2010 in which he famously said, ‘one of the most important lessons is to tell the difference between the differences that make a difference and the differences that don’t make a difference.’

When it comes to Christian theology, I believe there are four ‘layers’ of theological priorities. At the top you have the non-negotiables, and at the bottom you have areas with lots of movement for disagreement. Here’s what it looks like in my opinion:

The Core

At the top I would say are core gospel priorities that you just can’t mess with. These all surround the person of Jesus; He came, He lived, He died, He rose, He ascended, and He is coming back. Fundamentally this covers things like divinity, incarnation, atonement, etc.

These are core because they contain all the creedal distinctives of our faith. Put another way, if you over or under-emphasise  any of them, or – heaven forbid – reject any of them outright, then your religion will be resultingly something other than Christian.

These should be the main things we preach and build our lives upon. They are all hills to die on, and the battles we should always choose. In truest form, to reject or significantly reshape any of these would be what would classically and technically be known as heresy.

The immediate

Just under the core I would say is a group of immediate priorities. These are doctrinal areas which, if you were to significantly disagree with or change, would affect the core realities above.

The big way to differentiate the core from the immediate is each doctrine in the immediate category could have several ‘acceptable’ versions that would still result in a clear gospel core, but plenty of other interpretations that would consequently mess with the core.

Taking the doctrine of creation as an example; disagreeing over whether or not creation took place over seven literal twenty-four-hour periods wouldn’t change the gospel core, however saying that Jesus himself is a created being would change it.

So, these are somewhat debateable areas worthy of meaty discussion and hearty-yet-respectful disagreement. For me this list includes, but is not limited to,

The nature of God, the nature of humanity, creation, revelation, eschatology, idolatry, kingdom/covenant, etc.

The sacramental

The next layer of theology connects the immediate and the core to the main practices of worship, ministry and mission. It’s how we mirror and respond to the theology that we believe in.

Each of these areas are very important in that they will significantly affect our journey of sanctification – or how much we look like Jesus – but each is a longer process with less immediate biblical data, so has a bit more wiggle room for practical disagreement.

This layer will include areas like baptism, communion, worship, prayer, canonical inerrancy, the nature of the church, the place of the Old Testament law, spiritual gifts, spiritual warfare, leadership/authority, etc.

There is quite a lot of room here for difference, and unless your practice of these things seriously undermines the immediate or the core – or drastically over-emphasises some immediate or core doctrines over others – then there’s lots of room for generous difference.

The temperamental

I’ve broken this final category into two areas: the ethical, and the cultural. What unites them is they all allow for a whole host of pretty wildly differing views without affecting the fundamentals of what we believe.

These are temperamental as they can easily follow the whims of our oftentimes changeable human nature, and as such, frequently change shape and form and invoke different levels of passion at any given time.

That said, even these temperamental areas can still potentially affect practice, which can in turn affect immediate or core doctrines. So, they are not unimportant, and they should be given due attention when they warrant it. However, they shouldn’t be treated with the same level of passion or given the same amount of continued focus as the categories above them in all instances or on every occasion. I’d expect to hear about Jesus at every church service, for instance, but I wouldn’t expect to hear about sexuality at every service. I also wouldn’t really expect sexuality to consistently be the main focus of a Christian’s Facebook wall.

The ethical part of this layer then, involves the ways we think people should live even if they are not Christian. This includes sexuality, gender, justice, political leanings, social activities, media consumption, etc. They are all important and can affect not only our practices but how we demonstrate Jesus to a broken world. They are not, however, themselves essential doctrines. These are some of the main areas that I think we need to talk to and about each other far more respectfully than we tend to.

The cultural has much more to do with the style and approaches of our Christian lives and practice. These might be music, preaching length, Bible versions, ministry models, dress codes etc. None of these frankly, in my opinion, should give us theological ground for leaving a church, or speaking poor of it to others.

Both the ethical and cultural aspects of the temperamental layer can affect practice and even essential doctrines, but they don’t do so immediately. There is lots of room here for grace, and none of these areas should be called ‘heretical’ in and of themselves.

So, where is your passion?

It might be that you would group some of the things I have into different categories. You might boost or reduce the importance of some of my examples. That could be fine (I’m sure my views on many of these things will keep evolving!), but do ask yourself why?

I truly believe that God calls us all to care about different things in part, but the same thing in unity. We are all to care about the gospel first and foremost, and if anything overtakes that passion, then we need to take a step back and regroup.

If your passion for sexual ethics overtakes your passion for Jesus, you’re probably getting it wrong. You should be passionate about sexual ethics, but that should lead to and be led by your passion to see Jesus, show Jesus, and be like Jesus.

If your passion for creationism overtakes your passion for Jesus, you’re probably getting it wrong. You should be passionate for how and why creation was done, but that should be driven by your concern that more people see Jesus as creator.

If your passion for the ESV version of the Bible overtakes your passion for Jesus, you’re probably getting it wrong. You should be passionate that people can engage with the Bible clearly and accurately, but in order that they might encounter Jesus more.

It’s important to be passionate about so many areas, but let’s keep everything in context and drive at the main priorities.

Every now and then it’s worth taking a step back and asking what is driving our personal theological priorities. If it’s not clearly and fundamentally Jesus, then we need to take a step back and regroup. We don’t need to reject our passions, just refit them into their proper places.

If you’re calling genuine brothers and sisters heretics; If you’re being rude to or about people that you’ll probably know in heaven; If you’re gossiping, isolating, raging, grumbling, quibbling, hijacking, intimidating, or concealing; If you’re responding to the world at large as if they were actually full of the Holy Spirit; If you’re spending all your time galvanising yourself against other believers; If you continually express your beliefs in a way that fundamentally rejects the character God calls us to – then sorry, you’re probably getting it wrong.

Me too. We need to step back and regroup.

Let’s be passionate about what God gives us, but let’s always keep that in context.

Let’s keep the main thing the main thing!

 

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Reconsidering street preaching

Let’s talk about street preaching. Every town that I lived in has contained at least one well-known street preacher. Invariably that’s been someone stood in a busy street, reading aloud bits of Scripture, interspersed with their commentary. Usually passers-by catch no more than a soundbite, and it can be the luck of the draw whether that would be some form of ‘Jesus loves you’ or ‘you’re probably going to burn in hell.’

Earlier last week I saw a street preacher who was, quite literally, on top of a homeless person. The preacher stood by the wall, and the homeless person was sat on the floor against it. It was an uncomfortable sight. Now, I have no idea what transpired before the preacher began. Maybe he bought the homeless person breakfast, maybe they prayed together, maybe the homeless person just wanted to listen to the preacher. I don’t know. But the image to the passing public was of a shouty preacher totally uninterested by the poverty at his feet. It wasn’t a good look.

That all said, I have seen street preaching done incredibly well. I’ve seen the traditional preacher in a black suit holding aloft a leather Bible do a terrific job of engaging people with a clear proclamation of the gospel. I’ve seen street preachers supported by a team to converse personally with passers-by. I’ve also seen creative street preaching supported by drama and participative activities. I’ve seen street preaching done well. Kudos!

When I say, ‘street preaching’, then, what I’m meaning is attempting evangelism by speaking loudly to passers-by in an uninvited public area. As a method of evangelism, we could end the conversation here with, ‘sure go onto the streets and preach, but please do it well.’ That’s not the conversation though. Many street preachers do so because they genuinely believe they’re responding to a biblical requirement. They see it as nothing less than obedience to the Bible to preach on the street. That’s where I’m going to focus my efforts today.

Is there a clear biblical mandate for Christians to street preach?

Every now and then I like to pop one of my beliefs into a test tube and re-evaluate it against the Bible. I find this is especially helpful if I’m getting too hot under the collar about something.

So this longer piece will look at the common arguments used for street preaching evangelism, followed by an exploration of the Bible passages commonly used to support it.

Let’s have a look at the arguments and evidence and go from there. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this too. Feel free to comment or get in touch!

The case for street preaching.

When I started to look into this, I was looking in the Bible for cases of public, open-air speaking to unbelievers in busy streets without invitation. Ideally, for this to be a biblical practice, it would be both modelled in the Bible, and it would be backed up through direct biblical commandments.

In my research I found four influential sources who believed that street preaching in the way we do it today is both modelled in and required by the Bible.

Sutek

In 1989, Rev. G. Sutek self-published ‘The Street Preachers’ Manual’, which has been widely used since as a biblical defence of the practice ever since. In it, he says this:

When you consider that virtually every Bible preacher from Noah to John was a Street preacher, and that more than 90 percent of all sermons preached in both Old and New Testaments were preached in a public forum, you wonder why anyone would discourage public evangelism, and why preachers, pastors, and others do not attempt to employ this undoubtedly Biblical method of gospel evangelism.

The clear command of the public communication of the Lord’s message was given to Jeremiah (Jer. 11:6), to Ezekiel (Ezek. 2:1-7; chapters 3 and 33), to Isaiah (Isa. 58), to Jonah, to Noah, to Peter and the other disciples (Mark 16:15), to Paul (Acts 9:15; 23:11), and finally passed to Timothy (2 Tim. 4:2) as an example for the New Testament ministry. Add to this the examples of Ezra (Ezra 10:9-11; Neh. 8:1-5), Stephen, and of Jesus Himself, who was first and foremost a street preacher, and you have received more than sufficient mandate from the Lord to motivate any “God-called” preacher to “Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet” — publicly.

A street preacher would believe, therefore, that what they’re doing is directly obedient to the Scriptures. Although Sutek only referenced some of his examples, he could also have pointed to Peter in Acts 2, who preached on the streets at Pentecost seeing 3000 people saved.

Heralding Christ

Geoffrey R. Kirkland, a modern street preacher from Heralding Christ says,

One only needs to read through the Scriptures (both OT and NT) to find the clear emphasis on the bold, public, and even at times “in-the-moment” proclamation of God’s truth… Beginning with Noah who was a preacher of righteousness (2 Peter 2:5), to Ezra (Nehemiah 8:1-4), to Jeremiah (Jeremiah 7:2; 19:2), Ezekiel, other prophets (Jonah 3:2-4), John the Baptist (Matthew 3:1-2), our Lord Jesus Christ (Matthew 5-7, et al.), Paul (Acts 26), Peter (Acts 5:17ff), and hundreds through Church history, an unbroken pattern of open-air preaching can be observed.

He also adds,

In Luke 14:23, Jesus commanded His disciples to go out into the highways and the country roads (or, hedges) and compel sinners to come in so that His house may be full. Open-air preachers take this verse and read it at face value and have no need to spiritualize or take this text figuratively.

So again, we see an appeal to the Prophets, Apostles, and Jesus himself, but also an addition of a command given to the disciples in Lk. 14.

Reformed Evangelistic Fellowship

Street preacher, Al Baker, from the REF, says this about the practice,

God called Isaiah and Jeremiah to preach in the open air (Isaiah 6:9, Jeremiah 1:4-10), as well as the other prophets. They generally were not welcome in the synagogues… For His own glory, God uses preachers to go to the streets to invite people to the great wedding feast because He delights in the eternal celebration of His righteous saints (Matthew 22:1-14).

There is the now familiar appeal to the Prophets, and to the same parable used by Kirkland of the wedding banquet. In a more classically Reformed fashion, however, Baker adds this,

Paul, the apostle, who taught clearly and lived out the doctrine of God’s electing grace (Ephesians 1:4,5, Romans 9:14-18) at the same time believed that people would not be saved unless the gospel was preached to them (Romans 10:13-17).

Street preaching in this sense could be the catalyst for an elect to discover their privileged position with God.

Reformation Charlotte

RC is a group of three street preachers from North Carolina and Michigan in the US. In an article responding to criticism, they defend the biblical mandate for street preaching this way,

Seeing the crowds, He went up on the mountain…and He opened His mouth and taught them (Matt. 5:1-2). And He sat down and taught the people from the boat (Luke 5:3). Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that My house may be filled (Luke 14:23). Then the disciples went out and preached everywhere (Mark 16:20). So he reasoned…in the marketplace every day with those who happened to be there (Acts 17:17).

The focus here is on Jesus as the model of street preacher, with a poke at the Disciples and Paul towards the end.

A couple more arguments for

Some street preachers would also point out that the purpose of gospel proclamation on the streets is not to make the gospel palatable or likeable. In fact, a measure of doing it properly could actually be how much persecution they are be met with. We should in fact expect persecution and complaints if we are ‘doing it properly’ (2. Tim. 3:12; 1 Cor. 1:23), and are called, regardless of this, to warn the world of the wrath of God and coming judgement (Ez. 2:3-7).

Other street preachers might not push this prophecy-style language quite so hard, but instead talk about the amazing opportunities that street preaching provides which invitational evangelism or preaching purely from a pulpit doesn’t. They will example people who heard the gospel on the streets and were saved.

So, where are we heading?

What I’d like to do here, is explore this idea that street preaching as we know it today is what was happening in the Bible. Was ‘every Bible preacher from Noah to John’ as Sutek said, a street preacher? Was Jesus ‘first and foremost’ a street preacher?

I will look at the Prophets, the Apostles and Jesus himself as street preachers against the model of street preaching today.

Street preaching in the Old Testament

All of Sutek’s key examples of public address in the Old Testament (with the exception of Noah) are Prophets. Kirkland and Baker relied heavily on these examples too, so let’s start there.

An Old Testament prophet was a very specific category of person. They rarely enjoyed it, took great pains to avoid it, and we’re often lambasted for it too! Ezekiel lay on his side for 430 days, Isaiah walked around naked while preaching for three years, Hosea was told to marry a prostitute, Balaam had to compete with a donkey, Nehemiah went on a rampage – mostly pulling people’s hair, and Jeremiah wasn’t allowed to wash his pants. The point is, these were unique, very rare individuals called to a specific time.

It’s this ‘specificness’ that we need to address.

Prophets were rarely (if ever) called to speak to Gentiles – they were exclusively sent to God’s people. Using Sutek’s passages from his earlier quote as our examples:

“Jeremiah (11:6)” is sent specifically to Judah and Jerusalem. In fact, vv.1-5 is a message that only makes sense if spoke to God’s people. The whole ‘preach’ is about a covenant made with God’s people that they have broken (vv.6-17).

“Ezekiel (Ezek. 2:1-7, chapters 3 and 33)” is sent to ‘the Israelites’ (2:3). There’s no mention of preaching on the streets, but considering the content of his message, it’s seems likely that most of his speaking would have been in and around the Temple. Chapter 3 is again specifically to Israel (vv.4-5, 7, 11, 17), and Chapter 33 is ‘your people’ (vv.2, 12, 17, 30), who are ‘Israel’ (vv.7, 10, 11, 20, 23, 28), specifically in Jerusalem (vv. 21).

“Isaiah (Isa. 58)” is sent to God’s covenant people, the ‘children of Jacob’ (vv.1, 14). This is an interesting example, because Isaiah was called to speak to God’s people in the middle of Babylonian captivity – yet none of his preaching is delivered to Babylonians.

“to Jonah, to Noah…” Noah isn’t a sent preacher or a Prophet. God didn’t tell him to speak or proclaim anything – God told him to build an ark for his own salvation (Gen. 6:14; 7:1). At no point in the story does Noah proclaim to anybody. Jonah spoke to the people of Nineveh in Assyria (Jon. 1:1). These aren’t explicitly God’s people and Jonah did go into the city streets proclaiming God’s message (3:4). This would seem to be the closest link, therefore, to today’s street preacher, however because of the content of Jonah’s message, it’s likely that God had people there that Jonah was speaking directly to, rather than the pagan nation.

“Ezra (Ezra 10:9-11; Neh. 8:1-5)”, speaks to God’s people, in Jerusalem at the place of gathered worship (in the square outside the Temple. Ez. 10:9, Neh. 8:1-2) They were also invited to attend and hear the message (Ez. 10:7, 12). Ezra is speaking directly to Israel using the Law that only they would have understood (Ez. 10:11, Neh. 8:7-8).

There are a couple of notable examples outside of Sutek’s list. Moses would be the most obvious who is sent to the Egyptian Pharaoh outside of God’s people, however 1.) This wasn’t a public street address or preach, and 2.) It was a specific message for a specific time to let God’s people go, and 3.) It was accompanied by incredible signs and wonders of judgement upon Egypt.

Old Testament Summary

The Prophets in the Old Testament were a very rare and immensely specific category of people. They interpreted the past, the present, and the future and spoke almost exclusively to God’s own people (with the possible exception of Jonah). They sometimes spoke directly to kings individually, but they just didn’t street preach as we would understand it today.

Thinking of today, there is a notable difference between the spiritual gift called prophecy (with a small p), which can happen in the gathering to give a word of knowledge or edification, but with much testing and accountability (1 Cor. 12-14); and the institution of an Old Testament Prophet (big P). Similar to the Apostles (big A!) a Prophet received the exact and unquestioned word of God such that it could be included in Scripture.

If anyone claimed to be this kind of Prophet today, I would be very concerned. If true, they too would be able to add to the Bible.

The fact remains that the Prophets in the Old Testament did not do what we would call street preaching today – what they did was deliver God’s message to God’s people usually in or around God’s designed place of gathered worship. They didn’t invite people to follow God they challenged people to return to God.

I’m concerned that Sutek’s material particularly (which I’ve found to be somewhat typical of these ‘biblical defences’) treats the Bible quite disrespectfully. In every instance above, the passage quoted didn’t say what Sutek used it for. If all Sutek meant was the speaking of a God-themed message, out loud, to God’s own people, then we’d be closer to the truth – but as a defence of open-air evangelism on the streets, this use of the proof-texting is indefensible. It’s a similar story in Kirkland and Baker too – for people who proclaim to love the Bible so much, they used it quite clumsily.

I couldn’t find, therefore, a single Old Testament example of what we call ‘street preaching’ to an uninvited mass of pagan people in public area to proclaim God’s word, or to warn about judgement. It’s just not modelled in the Old Testament. This doesn’t mean don’t do it, but it does mean it’s not – at least from the Old Testament – a biblical requirement.

What about the New Testament?

Let’s begin again with Sutek’s passages, but this will also specifically address the arguments made by the other sources, most especially Reformation Charlotte.

“Peter and the other disciples (Mark 16:15).” This is part of the great commission and is a declaration of the content of teaching, not the method. Let’s break it down using its key word for our purposes, ‘preach.’ For this we’re also going to include Sutek’s claim that Jesus “was first and foremost a street preacher.”

The word used for preach is κηρύξατε. Its root word means ‘evangelise’ or ‘announce the good news’ and part of its stem means ‘herald’ or ‘one who speaks aloud’. Its Old Testament equivalent is used more broadly, for example to ‘preach freedom to the captives’ and ‘proclaim the year of the LORD’s favour’ (Is. 4:18-19).

To understand what the word means here, it’s important to connect it to how it was used of Jesus Himself. It’s the word used for Jesus ‘proclaiming’ the word of God in Matt. 4:17, and Mk 1:14 and is the word that accompanies Jesus’ parables and ministry in Matt. 4:23, Mk. 1:39, and Lk. 4:44. What you’ll notice immediately in these passages is how little actual ‘street preaching’ you see Jesus doing. In fact, we just don’t really see Jesus preaching on the streets to crowds anywhere, that’s not a feature of His ministry. Instead you see Him dialoguing with individuals and small groups and teaching his disciples, often with a crowd ‘listening in.’ If anything, we see Jesus removing Himself from crowds. Let’s look at the passages:

In Matt. 22:33 we hear that there was a crowd there, and that they were astonished. However, Jesus wasn’t talking to them, He was conversing with the Chief Priests (21:23), the Pharisees (22:15) and the Sadducees (22:23). This all happened in the place of gathered worship (21:1, 12, 23) – not on the streets of some pagan town.

In Mk. 1:39 and Luke 4:44 Jesus was preaching, but in the synagogues to Jews, not on the streets to Gentiles.

The best way to make sense of the Great Commission, then, is not to suddenly throw a new method into the mix that Jesus Himself never did.

We are to imitate Jesus in how we exercise the Great Commission – and you just don’t see Jesus street preaching in the way we think of today. You see Him conversing with individuals, dialoguing with small groups, practicing miracles, teaching His disciples, and sending them out to do the same. However, even in that case, Jesus actually tells them not to go to the Gentiles (Matt. 10:5-6).

So, back to Sutek’s list:

“Paul (Acts 9:15; 23:11).” God has told Ananias that Paul is God’s chosen mouthpiece to ‘proclaim’ good news to the gentiles. However, there is no mention here of any kind of preaching, street or otherwise. Instead you see Paul immediately debating with Jewish leaders (v.22). Again, in Acts 23:11, there is no mention of street preaching, just the testimony of the gospel. The mechanism is not given in either of these passages.

So, then what about Paul? Even without these passages, what mechanisms did he use – wasn’t he a preacher? Well not in the ‘street preacher’ sense. What we see is Paul entering synagogues to speak with the Jews (Acts 13:5, 14; 14:1; 17:2, 10, 17), making some converts who then provide a base for Paul to speak outside of the synagogues – but usually in their homes, or by a river, or in some other accepted invitational space.

There is, of course, the example of Paul speaking at the Areopagus to the Greeks (Acts 17:22-34) but at the invitation of their philosophers (v.19), and one example in the same chapter about reasoning (dialoguing, discussing, conversing) in the ‘marketplace’ (or agora, v.17). This was common practice in Athens, where philosophers (most famously Socrates) would be available to passers-by who wanted to discuss their various views individually and in small groups. It was certainly not a ‘street preach’ as it might casually sound.

Paul, therefore, doesn’t provide us a model for street preaching either.

“Timothy (2 Tim. 4:2).” Again, this verse doesn’t provide an example of street preaching or street evangelising. We’re talking about Timothy’s ministry with the Ephesian church, and particularly his ministry to refute internal false teachers.

“Stephen.” Stephen’s incredible speech in Acts 7 is again given exclusively to Jews using Israel-specific stories and language. This happens within the context of the Sanhedrin (6:12).

Outside of Sutek’s examples we could consider John the Baptist who was an open-air preacher of sorts, but he spoke exclusively to members of Israel using familiar language – and to people who came to him, gathered at the Jordan, not in the public areas of a town.

Peter, of course, preaches at Pentecost in Acts 2, but not only do many of the best commentators consider this to be the last piece of Old Testament-styled Prophecy (big P!), but it again happens within the context of Israel at a Jewish celebration – and as a one-time special part of the gospel story, the initial sending of the Holy Spirit. So even if we did concede this was something like street preaching, I don’t think you could draw a straight line from this important one-time event, and what we do today.

New Testament Summary

There are no examples in the New Testament of street preaching evangelistic messages or judgement warnings to gentiles in public spaces.

Evangelism, proclaiming the good news, telling the gospel, and going to gentiles are parts of the requirements of the New Testament, but the Great Commission points us towards doing it like Jesus did, which doesn’t include a model of what we would call street preaching today.

Street preaching, a biblical mandate, or a matter of the heart?

Street preaching certainly isn’t unbiblical but I don’t believe we find a mandate or a model for it in either the Old or the New Testaments. That said, using an iPad isn’t in the Bible either! Neither is a PA system, nor handing out of pamphlets. But like with these things, knowing there’s not a biblical mandate moves us to the better question, which is ‘how?’

The point of this piece was to carefully deconstruct the idea that street preaching as it’s often practiced today was a mandated, or even common part of the Bible. It’s simply not. Without out that weird weight strapped around its neck, we can start talking about how to do it well.

If we drain ‘street preaching’ of its absolutist mandate of biblical authority, then we can have a real conversation about how to actually do it.

Let’s save that for another time! Today, I want to end with a careful caveat question for street preachers – why do you do it?

An inordinate number of street preachers that I’ve met fall into at least one of these three categories: They don’t belong to any recognised church; they are not local to the place their preaching; or they have some history of feeling rejected by Christians.

This is not true across-the-board and has simply been my observation of the street preachers that I have interacted with. But if this is true more broadly then we need to be very careful in how we challenge or even rebuke people who actually might be quite literally ‘out of fellowship’. There is a litany of biblical material on this that can’t quite so easily be brushed aside. I don’t think church discipline, for instance, can be done in a guerrilla way, and more personally, we may find ourselves coming against a history of pain, fear, or even abuse. Like in all disagreement we need to lead with kindness and go with mercy.

One of the most important questions to consider, therefore, is why do people street preach in the first place? Is it purely because they 1.) believe they are instructed to and 2.) genuinely desire people to meet with Jesus and 3.) truly believe that street preaching is an effective way to do that? If so cool… to some degree.

Sometimes, however, the sense that I get is a great deal of street preaching content and form is motivated by fear or some idea of ultimate duty. I’ve heard it said that if we don’t do it, then the blood of those who could have heard the message (and didn’t) would be on our hands. Some of these explanations clearly cross the line of salvation-by-works. It’s uncomfortable to say the least.

This, of course, is not true across-the-board, but it’s worth asking questions about the heart and what ultimately motivates a street preacher. Again, I’ve seen some street preaching done incredibly well by people who genuinely seem to have a clear grasp of the gospel and measured motivation for why they’re doing it. So, heart-matters are subjective, but I think they’re worth flagging up as they will colour how someone reads the Bible for support.

Afterall, as much as we’d like to think the Bible is ‘black-and-white’ it’s rarely read without a multi-coloured lens on, and if we can’t be honest about and address the lens that we might wear, then we should be very careful correcting others. There are Matt. 7:5 planks in our eyes!

All the best!

Tim

 

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We need to rethink how we do apologetics

At Bible College, apologetics was the module that everybody wanted to take. It was uncomfortably alluring in that it always left you feeling really good about what you believed. With just a sprinkling of smug self-righteousness, you often left class thinking,

“Wow. We really do have all the answers, don’t we!”

And that’s a nice feeling. It’s assuring, comforting, enchanting – even powerful. Sometimes you left and wanted to walk down the Highstreet to test it out. You wanted to duke it out and stretch your newly built ‘reason-muscles’. You wanted a fight. Sounds like a healthy attitude for a Christian, right?

In the case of where I was taught, we also left thinking things like,

“Wow. Kant really was a dummy, Foucault was just unhinged, Rousseau killed education, Plato was a nothing but a nationalist, and Hegel was such a sell-out.”

It wasn’t just that we had all the answers, it was like we understood everything about everyone better than anyone. It wasn’t just seeing the world through Jesus’ eyes as redeemed, Kingdom-people – it was like we really were smarter than everybody. It was almost like being prepared for war.

If I could describe my apologetic training in one word it would be combative.

Combatalegitcs

And this makes sense doesn’t it? Apologetics now sits firmly in the field of Western, analytical, dialectic philosophy. It’s about winning the arguments, shifting the burdens of proof, and erecting an indestructible worldview which towers above all others. It’s as if we could ‘defeat’ people into the Kingdom of God.

Through the mechanics of deductive reasoning against a backdrop of postmodernism, we perfected the craft of taking people down and grinding their worldviews to dust. And, in the case of ‘presuppositionalism’ assuming that drifting alongside the wreckage of an unbeliever’s now mangled worldview, would suddenly make them want to hop on our ‘leak-free’ boat instead.

Is it possible that we have taken ‘always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have’ (1 Pt. 3:15) to be ‘always be prepared to wipe the floor with an unbelievers life – whether they asked you to or not’?

Whoooaahhh Tim, I didn’t learn that way!

Ok, I’m being somewhat dramatic. Not every apologist does this. In fact, if you look at the best of them, such as the late Ravi Zacharias, they are able to speak the truth in love; engaging with arguments without pulling apart the person they are speaking to. They empower people to think for themselves.

The thing is, even evidenced in the best, I still think that we largely treat our apologetics as combative tools.

The arenas we witness apologetics happening most clearly is the university debate forum. Those are the videos we watch, and the techniques played out in the sermons we hear, and the books that we read. The more organic zones, however, such as after class conversations, YouTube comments, or even chatting over dinner with friends, don’t fit the debate forum. But with that as our blueprint, it becomes all too easy to try and force a communication shape that would better fit a debate than a conversation. We find ourselves in a battle-ready posture, firmly on one side, with a memorised set of deductive points to prove. In the ugliest of these, we also try to take on the role of moderator as well. The tone changes into something uncomfortable, and we change into something quite alien.

Whenever there’s an opponent, there’s fear

Going back to Bible college, there always seemed to be an opponent. This wasn’t just in our apologetics classes, it was through youth work modules, counselling courses, even biblical theology units. Everything was taught with an underlying opponent, or even an enemy in mind.

This enemy wasn’t the devil, or even our own sinfulness – it was something like secular post-modernism. Because we saw the world soaked in relativism, we had to arm ourselves with not only the truth, but also the best epistemological delivery methods to fire that truth into our culture. It really did feel like preparing for war.

The problem with this is that it’s really hard to love the people you’re training to shoot at.

If you always assume an opponent, then there’s an underlying fear that they could get you. There’s something we’re needing to defeat, because if don’t, bad stuff will happen to us. It could just be that we’re only worried about them self-destructing their own souls, but is that really it?

Is it, perhaps, that we are afraid of our culture’s eroding morality, wanning grasp on reality, or diminishing favouritism for Christianity? Are we afraid that a sinful world is just going to get more sinful, and that Christianity, as a result will become more marginalised or persecuted?

What was it we think we were promised?

The goal is always gospel

We live in a broken world. We weren’t promised anything else this side of Heaven. We were told, by nobody less than Jesus Himself, that we were going to be persecuted. Were you expecting something different?

The goal is to share the good news of Jesus. Going back to 1 Peter, we’re told to have a reason for our hope. You don’t need hope in a sorted world – you need it in a broken one.

The purpose of our apologetics is to point people to Jesus. That’s it. That’s the only goal.

We need to stop treating evangelism like war, unbelievers as opponents, or apologetics like a weapon.

We need to lead with love. Do we need to list off the amount of times we are instructed to love our enemies (Matt. 5:43-48; Lk. 6:27; Rom. 12:14, 20; 1 Pt. 3:9), our brothers and sisters (Jn. 13:34; Col. 3:12-14; 1 Jn. 4:21), and our neighbours (Lev. 19:18; Matt. 7:12; 22:36-40; Mk. 12:31; Rom. 13:8-10; Gal. 5:14; Jam. 2:8)? Even in 1 Peter 3:15 we’re told to give the reason for our hope ‘with gentleness and respect’. It’s just not ok to ignore this enormous theme of the Bible, but again it’s really hard to love the people you’re training to shoot at. It’s even harder when you’re pulling the trigger.

We can’t do apologetics through fear. It just doesn’t work that way. If there is underlying fear in how you engage apologetics – then it’s just not going to work.

So, don’t be afraid.

Don’t be afraid of the conversation. It might take years. It might take many strange turns. Embrace it. Have it.

Don’t be afraid of their choices. It’s not your job to get someone into Heaven, it’s your job to point them towards Jesus.

Don’t be afraid of being shaken. You’re a human, you’re not the Holy Spirit, and feeling doubtful is not a sin.

Don’t be afraid of ‘I don’t know’. Once again – you’re human, not God. You’ll find the conversation goes a lot better if you don’t assume you are the de facto fount of all knowledge.

Don’t be afraid of uncertainty. You don’t know how every little detail will turn out with the world, the law, the Church, or the person you’re speaking to. You don’t need to – you just need to love Jesus and love people.

Don’t be afraid of compassion. You’re called to love people – so love them and lead with that. Don’t be suspicious of yourself for caring for someone that you disagree with.

Don’t be afraid of the Bible. It’s your most important communication from God. Don’t be afraid of it, apologetic for it, or disrespectful of it. Use it – believe me people are expecting you to.

Don’t be afraid of prayer. Bring God into the conversation directly. Ask the person what they’d like you to pray for and do it.

Don’t be afraid of God working in the lives of others. He got there before you did – so what about asking an unbeliever something like ‘have you asked God about it yourself?’ You might be surprised at what happens next!

Don’t be afraid of Christianity. It is a religion. Sorry, but it is. And people are also interested in our rituals and our beliefs. Embrace them and share them.

Don’t be afraid of Jesus. Even if you are actually a scientist with research to your name, or a philosopher with an encyclopaedic knowledge of logical fallacies – make the main thing the main thing. You believe in Jesus. Say so. Say so more than you say anything else. Don’t be afraid of talking about Him more than you make arguments. Tell people about Him. Tell people about Him. Tell people about Him. That’s apologetics.

 

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Three things I’d tell myself if I was just starting out as a youth worker today

If I was beginning my youth work journey all over again, here are three practical things that I’d want my excitable young self to know.

Full disclosure – I’m sure that I would have ignored all of this, even if I was told! Anyhoo…

1. Learn how to have an argument

I’ve spent a huge portion of my youth work life either avoiding conflict or doing conflict badly. It’s only been in the last couple of years that I’ve begun to approach issues as they have arisen, handled them with some poise and clarity, and then moved on from them. I still get a lot of this wrong – so I wish I’d started learning much sooner!

The truth is that you’re more likely to get hurt in deeper and longer-lasting ways by avoiding conflict than having it. So have it graciously, and learn to do it well. Go to the dentist and get into good oral hygiene habits before your teeth rot!

2. Do less stuff

Do less, well. That’s the mantra, right? Too many youth workers try to ‘earn their keep’ by filling up their timetables with stuff. Even if you can find time in the week, money in the budget, and volunteers to run all of your nineteen different projects, you’re still going to have less influence over a young person than school or a parent. Then, just for kicks, you’ll steadily burn through all your invite credibility.

The key is to do a couple of things really well. Make them special and throw yourself into them. Make those few things memorable and meaningful, and you’ll build community – which takes me to the last one.

2. Build community, not clubs

It really is true that young people are looking for authenticity and genuineness. We know this, right? Young people are pushing hard against heavily made-up, photo-shopped, and filtered role models. So why do we spend so much time and money polishing up our clubs?

If we invest in a smaller number of young people and help them to invest in each other; if we invest in our team, helping them come together as a culture; if we invest in the ‘home feel’ of our space – then we’ll be growing community. Community creates fertile soil for lasting growth in a way a ‘club’ would simply envy. The best work is not done in a huge youth club, its done through a smaller youth community. That’s where the action truly is.

 

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How do you deal with failure as a youth worker?

In my last post I wrote an open letter to the church asking all of us, myself included, to spend more time caring for the lost and isolated than we do grumbling about each other and the ‘state of affairs’ online. I led that with it’s not ok to not be ok.

Today I want to double underline that it is, in fact, ok to not be ok. Ish. Kinda.

I don’t shake failure easily. I carry it around like a heavy bag over my shoulder full of bricks, and little evil gremlins with hammers and pitchforks. It’s heavy, and it hurts, and if left unchecked it only gets heavier. Here’s two examples of pretty colossal failures in my ministry.

In my first full-time youth min job I ran a ‘large’ youth event. I brought in the biggest speaker I’ve ever commissioned for any event, I decked out a hall, sorted a band and a PA, and I purchased so many doughnuts! I expected a large crowd of young people to show up. All the signs were that they were going to. They didn’t. I ended up with a small handful at best. There were more people on the stage than under it. To this day I don’t understand what happened.

I remember then having to explain to the church leadership team where it went wrong, and why I’d spend so much money. I remember exactly how that felt.

The other story involves a young girl in a meeting. I was fresh out of Bible College, and a question was asked of the main group leader (not me), about heaven and hell. I interjected a smarmy, know-it-all, and frankly irrelevant response about predestination that totally freaked that girl out. She was shaken and clearly afraid, and she said across the room that she would never, ever come to me for help. She always had before, but she never did again.

These memories, and others like them, are part of who I am. A little bit like ptsd, I tend to relive rather than just remember these failures too. They dig deep and they put down roots – but there’s more to it than that.

Failure isn’t actually the problem

The thing that gnaws about memories like these isn’t actually failure. Failure can cut, but that’s not where the pain is. Failure might be the sword, but it’s not the sword itself that hurts. The wound is what hurts. The wound is what bleeds. The wound is where the pain’s located.

It’s not the thing that happened, it’s the thing that the thing that happened caused. So, what is that?

That wound is shame.

It’s not the failure that burns, it’s the shame of that failure. The more we fail, and the more that shame goes unchallenged and untreated, the deeper it burrows, and the more it festers. A festering wound grows toxic; it stops the wound from scaring, and it keeps us unhealthy.

As a youth worker I’ve gotten a lot wrong in my time. We all do, right? I’ve failed a lot. And that’s ok. It is. It’s ok to get things wrong. It’s expected. The best of us do! The greatest people we admire are covered in exactly these types of battle scars. There’s a difference, though, between wound and scars.

When wounds don’t scar

The problem though – and here’s when it’s not ok to be not ok – is when those wounds remain wounds.

Wounds are supposed to become scars. The tissue will never be exactly the same again, but that’s the thing about a scar. It leaves you changed; you are different than you were before. A wound, though, is not a scar. A scar is messy, perhaps unsightly, but it’s no longer a risk. A wound is still dangerous.

Wounds need to scar, or they will not heal.

Shame has to be treated, or it will not disappear.

I think shame is one of the most insidious ways the devil attacks us as youth workers. He whispers things like, ‘You got that wrong,’ ‘you failed,’ ‘you let everybody down,’ ‘you let vulnerable people down,’ ‘ you let parents down,’ ‘you let your employer down,’ ‘you let God down.’ When we fail, he attacks the wound relentlessly. He throws all his weight at it and does everything in his power to keep it from scarring.

Shame is a wound that needs to be treated, and it needs to be treated with the healing, Jesus-driven power of gospel truth. So we need to recalibrate – from the Bible – how we see failure and shame, and in doing so, thoroughly disarm Satan of this method of attack.

So, let’s do some healing theology.

A theology of condemnation

Satan is sometimes called the accuser, which is fitting, but therein lies his defeat.

For someone to accuse you of something, they have to appeal to a law, or a rule that you’ve broken. They have to have an agreed standard to go off, something to condemn you against.

So, if someone says ‘you’re late’ they have to appeal to an agreement you made about what time constituted ‘being on time’. If you get a speeding ticket, there needs to be a speed limit sign and a law to back that up.

An accusation doesn’t work without an agreed standard. They go hand-in-hand.

The standard that Satan appeals to; the one that he uses (or more accurately the one he manipulates) is God’s revealed standard. Usually that comes down to the moral or legal code that God gave in the Old Testament. That’s the thing that could condemn us.

Hopefully now your shouting at the screen – but we’re not condemned by the law anymore, Tim, haven’t you heard about grace?!

And you are absolutely right! Which means Satan, in reality, has nothing on us.

Colossians 2:13-14 says this:

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having cancelled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross.

That very standard then, which would have condemned us – that Satan is trying to trick us into thinking still condemns us – has been nailed to the cross. That means every possible broken piece of God’s law has been paid for by Jesus dying for us. The standard itself has been paid for – not just the consequences of falling short of it. There is nothing left to accuse you against.

This doesn’t mean that the Old Testament law is bad, or useless, or even obsolete, but it does mean that there is no possible wrong that you could ever do that hasn’t been fully and completely paid for on the cross.

Say it with me. Through Jesus you are actually, in reality, not guilty (1 Cor. 6:11; 2 Cor. 5:21). This is literally what the doctrine of justification means.

So, where is your shame?

If you trust in Jesus, there is no eternal or legal cause for your shame. This means that Satan has nothing; nothing on you. There is, eternally, no charge that can stick against you. Whatever he says is literally impotent. It’s useless.

Colossians 2 goes futher than this. It says in v.15,

‘And having disarmed the powers and authorities’ (one of Paul’s phrases for Satan and co., check out Eph.6:12)… ‘he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.’

Satan is disarmed and then hauled out as the fool he is.

Don’t give the devil his power back

When we hold on to shame from failure, we re-empower the standard that Jesus died for. We give Satan his weapon back – it’s like we’re trying to rob the cross of its power.

However, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:1).

Yes, I have failed. You probably have too. Yup. And it sucks.

Learn to mourn it. Grieve. Confess it, don’t just cower from it, or cover it up. Learn from it. Apologise, grow, and move on.

Yes, it will shape you and it will change you. It probably should. But don’t salt the wound and stop it from healing. Don’t believe the accusations. God is far more powerful than your failure. In fact, He often shows up and does miracles right in the very middle of that failure.

In Lk. 24:19-21, the disciples believed that the death of Jesus was a failure, and shame had begun to fester. It was then that Jesus told them that through that very act of ‘failure’ was actually the victory they were waiting for (vv.25-27).

In Gen. 50:20, Joseph is reflecting on all the harm is brothers had caused him, and he told them that the very act which caused harm, God meant it for good. The very same place of pain was God’s place of salvation.

When you dwell on the shame of failure, you not only empower Satan, but you might even miss what God is doing in you.

You are not guilty. A failure, sometimes, and maybe, but still not condemned.

If you’re still carrying the shame of failure, maybe now is the time to fess up, revisit the gospel, and spend some time on your knees with the prince of grace.

It’s worth it. Trust me.

Best.

 

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It’s not ok to be not ok. Well it is, but it isn’t. A letter to the church.

It’s certainly ok to be not ok. There has been too heavy a stigma on mental health, and too much of a silly ‘just-pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps’ hyper-masculine narrative for far too long. Of course, it’s ok to be not ok!

However, we’re not meant to remain helpless, wounded, struggling people – alone and isolated – without care or support. That is not ok. It’s simply not ok just how many people are not ok without any support, connection, or help. That is not ok.

We were designed by God for community, for relationship, for connection, and for mutual strength and resilience (Gen. 2:18; Jn. 13:34; Col. 1:24; 1 Cor. 12). We were designed to stand in the gaps together (1 Cor. 13:1-13; Phil. 2:4; Matt. 25:40; Lk. 3:11; Rom. 12:10). We were meant to be together in the fog and in the pain (1 Cor. 10:24; Jam. 2:14-17; Heb. 13:16; 1 Jn. 3:17). And church, as the hope of the world, is called to catalyse and maintain healthy connections between people (Acts 2:42-47; Gal. 5:14; 6:2). Is that what we do?

Before we go any further, I’m not attempting here to add anything to the ‘should church be allowed to continue to meet’ discussion. That’s important, but that’s not what this post is about.

What I’m talking about is the dog-eat-dog world of organised and often vocal Christianity. The greatest enemy of Christianity is rarely secularism – it’s us. Brennan Manning famously said this,

“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians: who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”

It sometimes seems like church spends an inordinate amount of its efforts on maintenance and control. To ‘keep going’ rather than helping people keep on going. But the amount of institutional hurt-credit that has been built up by the church is verging on unforgivable.

We are the visible representation of Christ. We are people’s first impression of what our loving Lord and Saviour is like. What impression are we making?

My example today, is an obvious one. Whatever you think of President Trump (and full disclosure, I’m not a fan), it’s absolutely not righteous to revel and delight in his sickness. This too, is not ok.

There are so many hurting, needy, struggling, pained, and alone people in the world. They need the hope that only Jesus can bring. And far, far too many are dying without that hope because we were too busy squabbling online.

What are the needs of your area, and how can you as Christians and church meet those needs? What is your voice in the public arenas you interact with? How is your voice an advocate for Christ? How will that frame and provide context for people’s introduction to Jesus, and how much easier will it be to share the gospel when everything we do and say points in the same direction as that gospel?

The most powerful message we have is the saving message of Jesus. And the most effective carrier for that proclamation (and yes it should be proclaimed) is our otherworldly generosity, our extravagant kindness, and our immense joy in the face of adversity.

Maybe we’re just very tired. And that’s ok, but that’s also not ok.

We’re in this together, right?

So how about – rather than harpooning people for not sharing our political aspirations, or skewering people who use a different version of the Bible than we do – we share the message of Jesus first and foremost, and support that by being an accurate representation of Him. Our hearts are growing far too accustomed to being didactic and cruel.

No don’t get me wrong, I’m a big believer in teaching sound doctrine through a healthy use of the Bible – but it’s exactly that belief that has drawn me to these conclusions. We can’t pick and choose the bits we want to believe, and the Fruit of the Spirit in Gal. 5:13-26 particularly gives us a solid lead on exactly what it looks like to be ‘clothed in Christ’ (Gal. 3:7). I recently gave a talk about this online that you can watch here.

Come on church, we can do better! There are so many people right now who are lost, lonely, and just not ok. The church, as the body of Christ, should truly be the hope of the world. With Jesus as our message and our truly loving, extravagantly caring, self-sacrificial actions to back that up, then we can make a measurable difference in our towns and cities.

Our neighbours need this.

I sometimes think that Christians spend an inordinate amount of time angry and irate – especially online. What a waste of energy! I’m all about righteous anger in its proper context (Eph. 4:25-32… which actually ends with a plea for us to be tender-hearted towards each other as a sign of Christlikeness), but endless rabbit-holes, monotonous political loops, and incessant gnat-straining is not only a waste of effort, but truly detracts from advancing God’s work (1 Tim. 1:3-7) and it actively drives people away from Him (Matt. 23:23-28).

It’s just not ok for so many people to be not ok while church spends an overindulgent amount of time grumbling about each other and demeaning or lambasting anything or anyone that doesn’t meet our expectations.

Maybe that’s what I’m doing now.

But please hear my heart. I want to be part of a Christianity that’s known for uncommon kindness, obscene generosity, outlandish grace, and outrageous mercy. I think that’s who Jesus was, and we need to run-and-leap to follow His example.

Gough-out.

 

Photo by Ayo Ogunseinde on Unsplash