Essays

1. Wade’s sermon this Sunday was interesting to me, not so much for what he said, but for how people reacted. We were talking about the books Unchristian and No Perfect People Allowed. The focus for the week was hypocrisy. Wade’s line of the day:

“Why do outsiders think we’re hypocrites? Well, the short answer is - we are.”

As he continued he said a lot of great and true things. But I was curious of the people around me. One of the points was that in order to stop being hypocrites, we have to stop pretending we have it all together. We have to be open about our struggles. We have to think about what we’re presenting to people, put off our pride, and let outsiders (and insiders) know that we are broken, and we’re relying on Jesus to heal us. We have to confess our sin to one another, and hold each other accountable.

I was trying to be a good hearer and consider myself, but the whole time, people around me are vocally affirming the message. “That’s right!” “Amen!” “Yes…” Normally that’s fine, but I have to wonder: Can you so confidently affirm this message if you’re really hearing it? (continue reading…)

Should we go on sinning because we are under grace and not under the Law? Of course not! We have to live up to the standard of the one we follow. But how can we hold that position when it’s clear that were saved by God’s grace and not by anything we do?

This is a major paradox at the heart of Paul’s gospel. He puts these two conflicting positions together: We are saved by grace, through faith, and not of ourselves; but we must still live up to a certain standard as Christians. The problem, as I see it, is that people try to fully connect these two things while at the same time seeing them as mutually exclusive. (continue reading…)

Do you know any Marines? I have a cousin who went in, but I only know one Marine post-boot camp. He’s the only person I know who’s been through it all: boot camp, a 100-mile obstacle course, specialist training, and ten months active duty in Iraq. He’s the real thing.

Since he’s the only Marine I know, I’m not sure if my observations are true about all of them, but I think I can trust him and the movie A Few Good Men for a realistic picture (Jack was awesome, right?). And from what I’ve seen, this is how I describe them: Zealous, fervent, and passionate.

I used to work with this friend of mine, just after he finished his first tour. He couldn’t even back down from an argument with calm. I would hear him in the background two or three days a week shouting, “I’m not going to have this argument with you!!” (continue reading…)

Why else would you play…really? Sure you play for fun, friendship, practice, experience…but if you’re not trying to win, what are you doing? Sorry, that was my competitive side coming out…a little ugly, I admit. But in today’s world of 12 year-old Olympians and personal trainers for Pee-Wee football players, that same sentiment seems to be spreading.

In the world of organized competitive sports, the phrase “play to win” means more. It doesn’t just denote your intentions, it’s also a statement of demeanor. When you play to win you’re active, aggressive, and determined. You attack, and you (insert sports idiom here, I prefer “go for the jugular” or “take the kill shot”). But there’s a different kind of play: playing not to lose. (continue reading…)

There are a lot of things that we have to do every day. Wake up, brush our teeth, eat, drink, go to the bathroom, watch TV…etc. Sometimes the every day stuff gets so time consuming and, well, blah, that we just trudge through it and never think about the One who makes the everyday possible.

I have too many days that are just average. Nothing good happens, nothing bad happens; these are days that aren’t uncommon in any way. Well, I guess they’re uncommon in their commonness. On those days it sometimes seems that I forget to think about God. I know what you’re thinking: I work in a church, how could I not think about God? OK, I think about Him. But that’s more in the way you think about your teacher when you’re doing your homework. Or about your boss when your filling out a requisition form for pens. And I pray, but on those days it seems like an “Oh, by the way, thanks for all the stuff” prayer. I don’t like those days. Those “everyday” days.

But I learned that those days don’t just go away. It’s not as though they happened on their own. They happen because I try to skate through. Just get to the end of this one, so the next one can start. But I can’t do that. Few things that are worthwhile come to us without any work—even something as simple as a good day. I can’t just hope that each day is extraordinary rather than ordinary. I have to make it so.

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23) For the longest time I had no idea what it meant to take up your cross. I understood the concept of crucifixion, and a number of people, such as Peter and Andrew, took up their crosses in that manner and followed Christ. But it was an adverb that got me all messed up: “Daily.” Am I supposed to get crucified day after day?

The short answer is “no”. As I see it, to take up your cross is to do the hard thing because you love Him. Every day you decide to drop the habit, make the change, step in front of the Poser and really remember God. Every day you say, “Christ defeated death, so that I could have life, and I’m going to live my life to the full.” That’s why he came. He said it himself in John 10:10. Remember, the difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra. Cheesy, I know, but if you give that extra every day, every day could be extraordinary.

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