Dangerous Personality

There are so many celebrities in our culture. I have never been good at keeping them all straight. As a person who legitimately struggles with names, I have kind of lived under the assumption that they don’t keep track of my life, so I don’t have any need to keep track of theirs. So, don’t come talk to me about celebrity gossip, expecting me to know who is into who, who got married/divorced/had a baby. I simply will not know. If you’re into that stuff, then I will do my best to engage with you but I wanted to warn you ahead of time.
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I also operate under the policy (and living in California, I think this is probably best) that if I see them in public, I ‘m just going to leave them alone. If they’re eating dinner with their friends/family/crew/whatever, I was not invited to that meal. I will happily give them their space.

There have been so many stories of people who take things to the opposite extreme. They stalk celebrities, hang on their every word, know everything about their lives and some even begin doing dangerous/illegal stuff to try to get their attention. They develop an unhealthy obsession with that person. They go beyond fandom and into idolatry, aggressively defending that person, and caring far too much for someone that doesn’t even know they exist.

I also grew up in the ear of the televangelist. These people almost did everything possible to make my generation cynical in regards to fame & ministry. The Robertsons & Swaggarts of the world built up such a cult of personality around themselves that their inevitable human failings made their falling from public grace all the more devastating. We cannot invest ourselves, devoting the whole of our lives, to a single human person like this. People are broken. Celebrities and preachers will let us down. No one is perfect.

Paul recognizes this danger in the church of Corinth. This church had encounters with several powerful leaders within the early church and people were beginning to take sides:

10 I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment. 11 For it has been reported to me by Chloe’s people that there is quarreling among you, my brothers. 12 What I mean is that each one of you says, “I follow Paul,” or “I follow Apollos,” or “I follow Cephas,” or “I follow Christ.”

13 Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? 14 I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, 15 so that no one may say that you were baptized in my name.16 (I did baptize also the household of Stephanas. Beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else.) 17 For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.”
1 Corinthians 1

When we follow Jesus, we cannot spend our time espousing the benefits of any human individual. We simply need to focus our efforts on Him. It’s not about Paul, Peter or Apollos. It’s not about Joel, Steven, Judah, Kyle or Francis. It’s all about Jesus, 24/7/365. All of the rest of us are simply His servants, brothers born of His blood, recipients of grace, standard bearers for His kingdom. We don’t need to waste our short time on this earth and in this life to build up a little kingdom of our own. We all belong to Jesus. His Lordship does not get sub-divided, His sovereignty cannot be shared.

“Suppose one of you has a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’? Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’? Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? 10 So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’”
Luke 17

Jesus is our concern. He is our solitary celebrity. If we want to devote ourselves to knowing all the details about someone’s life, then may it be His.

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Saturday Something – Episode 10 – Know-It-All

It’s always good to be situationally aware as we speak into the hurts and pains of this life. We have been tasked with bringing comfort and the wisdom that God provides, but remember, you and I don’t personally have the corner on being every answer for every person. That honor belongs to Jesus…we just point them to Him.

Meditations on Divine Mercy – Day One

I’m inviting you to take a journey with me. Using Johann Gerhard’s book “Meditations on Divine Mercy” (written almost 400 years ago) we will walk together every day to take quick glimpses into the mercy of God in the light of our great sin and deep need for Him.

This first video begins with a very brief intro to Johann, and then moves directly into the devotion for the day. Join me as we look at the seriousness of our sin and the wonder of God’s mercy. All Scripture read comes from the ESV.

Saturday Something – Episode 9 – The Pause Button

Physician, heal thyself. Am I right? We run & we rush and & we do our best to provide the best for those we are leading in Christ…especially when it comes to Easter/Resurrection Sunday weekend. This is often called our ‘Super Bowl Sunday.’ And it’s easy to get lost in the bustle.

But, pastor, you of all people should know that you must prepare yourself and take time to engage with Jesus on your own. It’s time to hit the pause button, and rest in His rhythms of grace.

Grace & peace,
Ben

 

Saturday Something – Ep. 5 – Brag on God!

So, you’ve been excited about things that God is doing in your life, your family, your ministry, but you don’t know how to share it with people without sounding like you’re just bragging on yourself? If you’re thinking that way, it’s highly likely you already have God’s glory in mind.

Just let it out! Brag on God!

Oh, and VBS starts in six weeks.

So, to follow up from the previous post, I found myself at 18 years old and coming on staff at very small church in northeast Tennessee, having grown up in a thriving megachurch about 5 hours away in a larger, mid-sized city. It was a big change in environment, culture and attitude. Again, one wasn’t better than the other…it was simply different.

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Coming from the mega church where visitors were expected, there were VHS cassettes wrapped in the latest copy of the church paper and a variety of ministry brochures and other pieces of information that might help a visitor learn more about the church. If you were visiting, there was a point in the service where ushers would walk from the front to the back carrying several of these packets, hand them to those who felt brave enough to raise their hands and that was the end of the immediate contact for visitors. Pretty quick and painless, and it left the impetus for follow up on the hands of the visitor.

Walking into the small church, visitors were given a little embroidered rose stickers to wear on your shirt or jacket. The greeters at the front door always had a few on hand, and as if being a new face in a room of 95 people wasn’t evidence enough, the rose solidified the fact that you were new there. At a point, later in the service, people in the church were asked from the front to identify any guests they brought, by standing and introducing them and everyone would say ‘hello.’

Both gatherings had bulletins, choirs (the small church choir wore robes) and offered Wednesday night meals. Both had Sunday school, youth group and children’s ministries. Both practiced weekly communion, believer’s baptism, and made the sermon the central point of the service, hoping to bring encouragement for following Jesus to everyone in attendance. Both ended with an invitation, and a song. But the small church sang the same closing song every week. “The Family of God.”


It was different and still rang of elements from home. But the people were nice, they few us poor college students, and the old people didn’t treat us like we had our heads on backwards. They were used to college students coming through, and they welcomed us quickly.

My girlfriend at the time (now my wife) and I started attending a Sunday school class with a guy named John who was the Youth Minister there, and we got locked in with the community. We were hooked.

There was this little room just off the fellowship hall that we called the ‘Holy of Holies’ it was run by the Women’s ministry, had deep, shag carpet (with a rake) and was decorated in dusty rose and lace doilies. We were warned not to eat in there on Wednesday nights. We thought it was funny.

The minster had been on staff for over 25 years, and the people had a very open relationship with him. Everyone liked him, it seemed, He always wore a suit on Sunday mornings, slacks and button up on Wednesday nights, had his dark hair slicked back and wore these thick rimmed glasses that looked like he had kept that style since the 50’s.

We went home for Christmas, and came back in January. We went with John and the Youth Group to Gatlinburg for the TCTC where my wife and I got fake engaged & fake married in front of the “Chapel in the Valley” so we could send our parents pictures and freak them out a little bit.

Shortly after that, the church started getting ready for Easter, and all of a sudden John was gone. We found out that he was moving back to Florida to work with the youth in his home church. And so, a few weeks later, the elders got together and asked me if I would want to serve as the interim minister over the summer, for the next three months or so while they looked for a full time youth minister. That meant not going home, staying in the house of one of the elders as their guest, and taking care of the weekly and summer programming.

Since I was in school for ministry, it sounded like a great idea & good experience. I said yes, and was excited about moving into my first office. I was 18 years old. I had no idea what I was doing, and I didn’t have a prayer of filling office space. “Oh,” and they told me, “VBS starts in six weeks. I don’t think anything has been planned yet.”

Oh…

To be continued.

I was 18 years old. I knew nothing.

Back in the summer and early fall of 1996 there was a lot going on. I had just made the move to Northeast Tennessee, going to college in the mountains, taking my first steps of what felt like independence and responsibility (being 18 will make it easy to see more in some ways and less in many others.) Kurt Russel had just escaped from L.A., the Macarena was the hot new dance on MTV2 (a brand new channel) and ER was the top watched show on television with Seinfeld, Suddenly Susan and Friends just steps behind.

Brooding, angsty teens in plaid flannel and ripped jeans were everywhere.

IMG_7BF627CEF19D-1Moving into college was fun. I enjoyed it. I was the kid who was always looking forward to being another year older, reaching that next milestone. At 13? I have arrived. I am finally a legitimate human being. At 16? I am a legitimate human being who can drive. At 18, I have graduated high school. I am an adult. I am moving out into the world on my own…with my few close friends, social tendencies to play it safe and regular check-in’s with my parents. I was also going to begin my degree in ministry, Youth Ministry, and that first day on campus I would meet the equally mature and responsible and mature 18 year old woman who would become my wife in a few short years.

Moving to a new town meant leaving behind not just my parents and friends, but also my church family. I grew up in a pretty remarkable church. My dad grew up in that church and my grandpa and grandma had been around at the beginning to see it begin. Ever since the doors had opened, this church had been growing. And I don’t mean by one or two people, like many churches, my home church was growing, growing. By the time I was in elementary school it had already outgrown every inch of its original campus, which is a good sized property, multiple buildings, a gym…you name it. There was off site parking, people coming in by bus, multiple services every weekend. It was hopping.

We moved just down the street to a huge, sprawling campus, bigger buildings and way more parking. It was more, a lot more. and by the time I was graduating high school, that campus was over full, and there was no more room to expand…so they broke ground over on the east side of town, in an undeveloped area next to a small cattle farm. And I grew up in that environment. Excitement, growth, programs, movement, building, campaigns, expansion, excellence…and then I moved in to the foothills of Appalachia, and began my search for the place that would be my new church home for the coming years.

So, at 18 and coming from a megachurch environment, I set my eyes toward the biggest church in town. You can see it from the highway, it’s a featured building, and it’s shaped like a big, white Hersey’s Kiss. You can’t miss it. So, we went to check it out. I think it was the default first church visit for many students at my school, and it probably still is. Apart from the church on campus where you can roll out of bed and just amble your way on down on a Sunday morning, it’s a pretty good draw.

So we went, we attended for a few weeks, maybe two months, and then we moved on wanting to make sure we gave a fair glimpse at some of the 777 churches within 45 minutes of our school. Yes. we were told there were hundreds and hundreds of churches where we could settle in and find our place to serve. The big church seems like it had its ducks in a row, and we did want to go somewhere we could get involved, so we kept looking around. One week here, two weeks there, and we eventually come to a little church about 10 minutes from campus that was in the smaller city on the east side of campus. There was something different about this group. This whole church body was smaller than a single Sunday morning class at my home church, let alone the thousands and thousands of people who gathered for worship each weekend.

But my curiosity was piqued.

So we locked in. About 5 of us decided to make this tiny little church ‘our’ spot each Sunday morning. It was quaint. They sang from hymnals, wore choir robes and had pot-luck meals on a very regular schedule. The people, mostly old, were incredibly friendly, and it was pretty obvious that the minister was sticking to Scripture each week, so doctrinal concerns didn’t exist.

We started attending a class on Sunday mornings, went on Wednesday nights for the spaghetti dinners. It was nice, no pressure, no hustle, just people who loved Jesus loving each other, maybe they were still hanging out in the 1960’s. There was a time warp happening, and I loved it.

Growing up in a church that was growing into a megachurch meant that I didn’t experience a lot of what most people experience in their church communities. Add into that the fact that my family was in leadership, and I was pretty consistently abreast of change, aware of new stuff around the corner. Walking into a church family where change was not the word of the day, and where it was more about maintaining a weekly pace, about having a cohesive community, was a huge difference. And one was not better than the other. It was just different.

In my next post, I’ll lay out how some of the differences came across, and what I learned at 18 that was helpful, and what I learned to look out for…because later that Spring I began my journey on staff at a church. I was 18 and I had no clue what I was doing.