Tag: #Christianity

“The Hypocrisy Hangover – In Search of Authentic Faith.”

Hey Friends,
let’s get real for a minute. This isn’t your feel-good Christianese blog article wrapped up in a pretty pink bow. We’re going deeper today. Let’s think critically together for a moment. We’re talking about that uncomfortable space between what we say we believe and how we’re actually living. Does that make sense? It’s that gray area in between, where no one else is looking. The real you. The one that doesn’t put on a mask and isn’t dressing or looking the part that’s phony or inauthentic.

We throw around words like “grace” and “forgiveness” like they’re hashtags. #Blessed #SoGrateful. But are we really living in the overflow of that grace? Or are we just hoarding it, keeping it locked up in our spiritual bank accounts, afraid to spend it on the messy, imperfect people around us? Silently we judge, and we mentally cast the first stone while ignoring the large boulder in our own hearts. (Okay, it’s getting personal today…sorry/not sorry).

Think about it. We’re quick to judge, quick to point fingers. We build these little kingdoms of “right” and “wrong,” drawing lines in the sand, deciding who’s in and who’s out. And then we wonder why the world looks at us and sees hypocrisy, not hope.

Ouch. That stings, right? But truth hurts sometimes. See, I’m not pointing fingers at you. I’m pointing a finger with you. Because I’m in this boat too. We’re all in this boat. We’re all wrestling with the gap between who we want to be and who we actually are. It’s a continual struggle. And, I want to be honest with you – I’m so tired of fake faith and phony Christianity.

But here’s the good news: God’s not surprised by our mess. He’s not shocked by our struggles. He knows we’re imperfect. That’s the whole point of grace! It’s not about pretending we have it all together. (so take off the mask and stop playing church just to look good) It’s about admitting we don’t have it all worked out, and then leaning into the One who does. It’s about authenticity. It’s about being real. It’s about accepting grace in our messy lives.

So, what’s the answer? It’s not another program, another self-help book, another “7 Steps to Spiritual Superstardom.” It’s simpler than that. It’s about love. Radical, messy, inconvenient love. The kind of love that crosses those lines we’ve drawn in the sand. The kind of love that sees the image of God in everyone, even the people who drive us crazy – even those who didn’t vote like us…(more toe smashing – sorry/not sorry).

It’s about getting off our spiritual high horses and getting down in the dirt with people. It’s about listening more than we talk. It’s about serving more than we’re served. It’s about extending grace even when it feels undeserved (because, let’s be honest, it always is).

This isn’t easy, friends. This is hard stuff. This is the kind of stuff that stretches us, that challenges us, that makes us squirm in our seats. It’s gonna get messy. But it’s also the kind of stuff that changes the world.

So, let’s stop playing church and start being the church. Let’s trade our judgment for grace, our apathy for action, our comfortable Christianity for a faith that’s wild, messy, and real. Let’s bridge the gap between what we believe and how we live. Because the world isn’t waiting for perfect Christians. It’s waiting for people who are willing to love like Jesus.

Let’s go be those people. Alright? Let’s go.
Grace and Peace,
-Scott.

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The Weight of Religion Vs. The Lightness of Love…

Okay, let’s talk about religion.

Not the big “R” Religion, with its capital letters and booming pronouncements. I’m talking about the “r”eligion that creeps into our hearts and makes us feel superior, judgmental, and utterly disconnected from the very love we’re supposed to be spreading.

You know the type. The folks who wear their faith like a badge of honor, a shield against the messy, unpredictable reality of human life. They quote scripture like a weapon, wielding it to condemn others while conveniently ignoring the parts about grace, mercy, and radical forgiveness. Their messages divide people rather than unite them. I’m sure we’ve heard them a time or three…

This kind of “religion” is a heavy burden, a suffocating weight that crushes the spirit. It turns faith into a rigid set of rules, a checklist of dos and don’ts, rather than a vibrant, life-giving relationship with the Divine. It’s a performance, a desperate attempt to earn God’s approval, to prove our worthiness.

But here’s the thing: God isn’t impressed by our piety. God isn’t concerned with how many times we kneel or how loudly we sing, or how high our rank is in the church we serve. He’s not impressed.

Instead, God is drawn to the broken, the hurting, the ones who stumble and fall. God is drawn to those who recognize their own need for grace, who extend compassion to others, who see the divine spark in every human being.

Jesus, in his radical love, challenged the religious elite of his day. He called them out from their bully pulpits and political platforms. He dined with sinners, healed the outcast, and overturned tables in the temple, disrupting the comfortable order of things. He called us to a life of radical service, to love our enemies, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked. He called us to embody love, not just talk about it. (far too many people just talk about it but are devoid of any kind of action, because it’s easier and far less labor-intensive.)

True faith isn’t about adhering to a set of rules or checking off boxes on a spiritual to-do list. It’s about living a life of love, a life of compassion, a life of radical selflessness. It’s about letting go of our need to be right, to be seen, to be better than others, to control the narrative.

It’s about recognizing our own brokenness, our own need for grace, and extending that same grace to everyone we encounter. In a world full of turmoil, peace is something that’s precious and yet so difficult to find. It’s also about finding joy in serving others, in lifting them up, in walking alongside them on their journey.

So let’s shed the weight of religion, the suffocating weight of rules and judgments. Let’s burn our bully pulpits and our divisive platforms. Instead, let’s embrace the lightness of love, the freedom that comes from living in harmony with the Divine. Let’s choose to be a light in the darkness, a beacon of hope in a world that desperately needs it.

Let’s live out our faith, not as a performance, but as a dance – a joyful, messy, and unpredictable dance of love.
Grace and Peace.
-Pastorsponderings.

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5 Truths for the Abandoned Leader: Finding Refuge in God’s Presence.

Hey Friends,

I’m going to go off-script today. I apologize in advance. This blog post is for all of my Pastor and Lay leader friends. I write these words to encourage you. So, as Jesus said, “he who has ears to hear…”

I know what it feels like to stand in the pulpit, to shepherd God’s people, and yet, at times, to feel utterly alone. The weight of ministry can press down on us like a heavy burden, leaving us feeling abandoned and isolated. You may feel like no one truly knows what you do. Some assume you just show up on Sundays and you kick back Monday through Saturday, but we both know that is far from the truth. No one knows about the phone calls and the texts and how sometimes you feel like you have to hold all of those tenuous relationship lines and if you don’t it will all come crashing down. People will get hurt and some will leave the church.

You may feel like no one else gets you.

But hear this: you are NOT alone.

In those moments of solitude, when it seems like no one understands the struggles you face, remember that Jesus himself experienced the depths of isolation. In his darkest hour, his closest friends slept while he prayed alone in Gethsemane. He understands the ache in your heart and the weariness of your soul.

I want to encourage you with these 5 truths today:

1. God Is Always Present Even when it feels like everyone else has left, God remains steadfast. He promises never to leave us nor forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6). In your loneliness, draw near to him. Pour out your heart in prayer, knowing that he hears every word.

2. Find Strength in Community Reach out to fellow pastors and leaders who can empathize with your journey. Share your burdens with trusted friends who can pray for you and encourage you. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 reminds us that “two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” We need each other. Take the time to connect with peers in your community. Establish healthy relationships. I don’t care if you’re an introvert or an extrovert, we all need the strength of the right kind of community behind us. When we have like-minded friends, we have people who will say, “I’ve got your back, I’m here for you!” Additionally, when we take the time to seek out these like-minded folks, we begin to build a new community of support and soon we discover that others are also searching for the same space of commonality and comradery.

3. Embrace Vulnerability It’s okay to admit when you’re struggling. Vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but of authenticity. James 5:16 encourages us to “confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” As I write this section, I also acknowledge that there are some leaders out there who will misinterpret “struggling” as “not capable” and I want to strongly discourage any leader from rushing to that conclusion. Vulnerability is hard, but there is great strength in letting go of the notion that pastors and leaders have to have it all worked out and you have to have some sort of spiritual perfection to lead. Get over it. Pastors and leaders are just as susceptible to sin and temptation as anyone else. Guard your hearts (Prov. 4:23), and also embrace the need for accountability and vulnerability in your ministry. You should not live in a bubble or an island. When we pop the bubble and join reality, we begin to discard some of the feelings of abandonment and loneliness. In some ways, it’s arrogant to think that no one else gets us, or knows what we are going through. So get serious about popping the bubble and establishing a spirit of vulnerability and surround yourself with trustworthy people (refer back to step 2).

4. Rest in God’s Sovereignty Remember that God is in control, even when circumstances seem overwhelming. Romans 8:28 assures us that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” It sounds trite. It’s almost a catchphrase or something you see printed on a cup or an inspirational poster. But, I hope that the words Paul writes in Romans 8:28 strike your heart and are not just utterings for a momentary fix of encouragement. God isn’t sovereign some of the time. He’s not a God of inconsistency. He is constant, and his authority illuminates the darkest corners of our world.

5. Focus on Eternal Impact Ultimately, our labor in the Lord is not in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58). Keep your eyes fixed on the eternal impact of your ministry. Every soul touched, every life transformed, is a testament to God’s faithfulness through you. The problem is we want to see the impact of our ministry. We desire to see transformed lives and for them to line our pews on Sundays. But I think we get it backward sometimes. Jesus didn’t fill pews in a church, He went to people. He gave them value. It wasn’t about some statistical report. He loved people, showed compassion, and impressed upon them to live a better way.

Perhaps some of our feelings of abandonment stem from living in a world where we worship numbers and not God. Our world is so focused on numerical success and achieving bigger and better things, but Jesus gave us an example that is countercultural to all of that human need for notoriety, and chasing statistical perfection. The true impact of your consistent heart of servant leadership may never be seen by the world but it will be celebrated in God’s Kingdom. So, stop chasing numbers and perfection. Kill the super pastor that you envisioned in your mind. Live humbly. It will drastically reduce the stress that you feel when you seek performance instead of worship.

So friends, in the midst of your feelings of abandonment, please know that God sees you, He loves you, and He is with you. He’s not aloof. He’s not kicking back somewhere “wishing you the best”.

So take comfort in his presence. He is very near to you, right now in whatever situation you find yourself in today. He knows. Find strength in community, and trust in his perfect plan. You are not alone in this journey of ministry. Keep fighting. Keep serving. Don’t let up or quit. You got this, and, most importantly – He believes in you.

Grace and Peace,
-Pastorsponderings.

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Peace, Trouble, and Courage in the Chaos…

There’s this moment in John 16:33 that I keep coming back to. Jesus’ words echo like they’re meant to vibrate through the centuries, landing in our ears right when we need them most: “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

What a line. It’s like Jesus drops this truth bomb right into the middle of everything. And it’s not fluffy, feel-good talk—he’s telling it like it is. This world, it’s full of trouble. Chaos, pain, uncertainty. You don’t need me to list it out because you already know it, right? It’s the breaking news that scrolls across your screen. It’s the hard conversations you’ve had this week. It’s the weight you’ve felt pressing on your chest when you wonder if you’re going to make it through.

But Jesus doesn’t stop with the trouble. He says, take heart. Which isn’t just a gentle pat on the back. It’s a rallying cry. A declaration. It’s like he’s saying, “Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it’s heavy. But don’t let that be the end of the story.”

Because here’s the kicker: I have overcome the world.

And you start to feel the weight of those words, don’t you? This isn’t just some vague optimism. It’s Jesus saying, “I’ve faced it all. Every ounce of pain, betrayal, and darkness. And I’ve come out the other side.”

Now, this isn’t a promise that all your troubles will vanish, like some magic trick. It’s not Jesus saying, “Follow me and life will be smooth sailing.” No, it’s deeper than that. It’s a promise that trouble doesn’t get the final word. That the darkness doesn’t win. That whatever you’re facing right now doesn’t have the power to undo the hope and peace that’s found in him.

So, what does it mean for us to take heart? Maybe it’s leaning into the truth that we’re not alone in this. That we’re held by a love that’s stronger than any storm we’re weathering. Maybe it’s a reminder that peace isn’t found in everything going perfectly, but in the presence of the one who’s already conquered the chaos.

Taking heart looks like courage, doesn’t it? But not the kind of courage that pretends everything’s fine. It’s the courage to admit that things are hard and still trust that hope is real. It’s finding peace, not because the world is trouble-free, but because Jesus has overcome the trouble.

And let’s not miss this—“I have overcome the world” is a now-and-not-yet kind of promise. There’s a victory that’s already happened, and there’s a renewal we’re still waiting for. We live in that tension, don’t we? But even in the tension, there’s peace to be found.

So wherever you are today, whatever trouble you’re carrying, hear these words: Take heart. Take heart because you’re not alone. Take heart because the story isn’t over. Take heart because Jesus has overcome, and that changes everything.

May you find courage in the chaos, hope in the heartbreak, and peace in the presence of the one who’s with you every step of the way.

Grace and Peace.
-Pastorsponderings.

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“I Can See Clearly Now: Removing the Cultural Blinders.”

Have you ever wondered how much of what you believe is shaped by the culture around you? How much it is shaped by your childhood, your Sunday School class, that old church lady or man who frowned every time you laughed during a church service? How often do we confuse what we’ve absorbed from our past and surroundings with what God is truly saying? It’s like wearing sunglasses indoors. Everything looks a little darker, and you don’t even realize it until someone asks, “Why are you still wearing those?”

We all wear cultural blinders. They shape how we see God, how we see others, and even how we see ourselves. These blinders aren’t always bad; they’re just there. They’re the stories we’ve been told, the assumptions we’ve never questioned, and the unspoken rules we’ve learned to follow. But what if some of those stories, assumptions, and rules are keeping us from seeing clearly? Why aren’t we asking the right questions? Or even asking questions at all? Why do we just assume that we already know?

The Problem with Cultural Blindness

One of the biggest dangers of cultural blinders is that they limit our vision. Jesus talked about this all the time. Remember when he said, “You have heard it said… but I tell you…” (Matthew 5)? He was challenging the cultural scripts people had internalized—the ones that said, “Love your neighbor and hate your enemy” or “An eye for an eye.”

Jesus wasn’t just tweaking the rules; he was flipping the entire script. He was saying, “The way you’ve been taught to see the world isn’t the way God sees it.” And if we’re honest, we need that same challenge today. Could it be that there’s a script that we’ve blindly accepted that might need to be flipped?

The Filters We Don’t See

Think about the stories our culture tells about success. Bigger, better, faster, more. It’s a narrative that’s so pervasive we barely notice it. And yet, Jesus comes along and says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit… blessed are the meek… blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Matthew 5:3-6). He’s inviting us to see success in a completely different way.

Or consider how we’re taught to categorize people. Who’s in, who’s out. Who’s worthy of our time and attention. And then Jesus tells a story about a Samaritan—someone the cultural script labeled as an enemy—and makes him the hero (Luke 10:25-37). Jesus is constantly disrupting our categories, asking us to see people as God sees them. It’s dangerous. It’s counter-cultural. It’s amazing.

Removing the Blinders

So, how do we begin to remove these blinders? It starts with humility. We have to admit that we don’t see the whole picture. As Paul writes, “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face” (1 Corinthians 13:12). Part of growing in our faith is acknowledging that our vision is incomplete and asking God to help us see more clearly. It can be scary to admit this. It’s daunting to accept change in our preconceived notion of “having it all worked out.” So what needs to change? What is still blinding you from fully seeing?

Here are three practices to help:

  1. Question Your Assumptions Start by asking, “Why do I think this way?” Whether it’s about God, relationships, or the world around you, take the time to examine your beliefs. Are they rooted in Scripture, or are they shaped by cultural norms? Philippians 2:12 reminds that we should “work out our salvation with fear and trembling.” When we begin to question our assumptions we begin to remove the sunglasses that has prevented us from properly seeing.
  2. Listen to Other Voices Sometimes we need to step outside our echo chambers. Read books, listen to sermons, or have conversations with people who see the world differently. It’s amazing how much we can learn when we’re willing to listen. But be brave when you listen. Don’t just embrace the comfortable. Or the things that already speak to your accepted understanding of Church, Others and the Divine. Be prepared to dig deeper and as you listen begin to ask the hard questions.
  3. Ask God for Fresh Eyes Make it a habit to pray, “God, help me see what you see.” This simple prayer can open your heart to new perspectives and reveal the blind spots you didn’t even know you had.

The Freedom of Clear Vision

When we remove the cultural blinders, we start to see the world the way God intended. We see people as made in his image, without bias and rooted understanding. We see success as faithfulness, not achievement. We see love as the highest calling. And most importantly, we see God not as a reflection of our culture, but as the Creator who’s constantly inviting us into something deeper, truer, and more beautiful.

So maybe it’s time to take off the sunglasses. To step into the light. To let God show us what we’ve been missing all along. Because when we see clearly, everything changes.

Grace and Peace.
-Pastorsponderings.

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“Risk, Trust, Multiply: The Kingdom Math of the Talents”

I used the word Math…please don’t leave. Check this out:

The Parable of the Talents is one of those stories Jesus tells that cuts right to the heart of how we live, doesn’t it? You can find it in Matthew 25:14-30. It’s a tale about a man, his servants, and an outrageous amount of money—talents, as they called them back then. But this story isn’t just about economics; it’s about something far more profound.

Let’s dive in.

A wealthy man is going on a journey. Before he leaves, he entrusts his property to his servants. To one, he gives five talents. To another, two talents. And to the last, one talent. Now, a talent was no small thing. It was a unit of currency worth about 20 years of wages for a laborer. Imagine being handed 20, 40, or 100 years’ worth of earnings all at once. Can you feel the weight of that responsibility?

The man’s instructions? Not explicitly stated, but implied: Do something with it.

The first two servants get to work. They invest, trade, create, risk. And they double what they were given. But the third servant? He digs a hole. He buries the talent. He hides it.

When the master returns, there’s a reckoning. The first two servants present their doubled investments, and the master’s response is ecstatic: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”

But the third servant? He’s afraid. He tells the master, “I knew you were a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.”

And the master’s response? Not what we might expect from a story that starts with such generosity. The master calls the servant wicked and lazy. He takes the one talent and gives it to the one who has ten. And the servant is cast out, into the darkness.

Whew. Heavy, right? So, what’s going on here?

First, let’s talk about the fear. That third servant? He was so paralyzed by fear—fear of failure, fear of judgment, fear of the master—that he did nothing. And isn’t that what fear does? It locks us up. It convinces us to play small, to play safe, to not risk, to not create, to not step out, not to speak up. Fear whispers, “What if you fail? What if you’re not good enough? What if it all goes wrong?” And so we bury our talents. We hide what we’ve been given. We stop ourselves from speaking up with the grains of wisdom God has given us.

But the other two servants? They get it. They understand that the talents aren’t just resources; they’re opportunities. Opportunities to participate in the work of the master. Opportunities to create something, to build something, to grow something. And sure, there’s risk involved. But there’s also trust. Trust that what they’ve been given is enough. Trust that the master’s joy is found in their faithfulness, not their perfection. It’s never been about being perfect.

This parable invites us to ask some big, uncomfortable questions: What have I been given? What opportunities, resources, gifts, passions, abilities, relationships are in my hands right now? And what am I doing with them? Am I investing them, risking them, using them for something bigger than myself? Or am I burying them, hiding them, letting fear call the shots? This isn’t about inflating our egos, or making us look important, it’s about using what God has entrusted to us. All of it is Gods.

And here’s the twist that we can’t miss: The master’s joy isn’t about the amount returned. It’s about the fact that the servants were faithful with what they had. The first servant had five talents, and the second had two. Different amounts, but the exact same affirmation: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

You see, the parable isn’t about how much you have. It’s about what you do with what you’ve been given. It’s about the courage to show up, to risk, to trust, to invest, to create. It’s about participating in the work of the Kingdom, right here and right now.

So, what if we lived like the first two servants? What if we stepped out of our fear and into faith? What if we trusted that the gifts we’ve been given—no matter how big or small—are enough? What if we stopped burying our talents and started using them to bring light, love, and hope into the world?

Maybe that’s what Jesus is inviting us to in this parable. Not just to see what we’ve been given, but to step into the joy of using it. To risk. To create. To trust. To live fully into the Kingdom work we’ve been called to. And that Kingdom is right here and right now. With us.

Because when we do, we’re not just holding onto what we’ve been given. We’re multiplying it. And that’s where the joy is.

Grace and Peace.
-PastorsPonderings.

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Taste and See: The Beauty of Trusting in God.

There’s something magnetic about the way the psalms draw us in, isn’t there? They’re raw, human, unpolished. They take us to the very core of the human experience—joy, pain, fear, gratitude. Today, let’s pause with Psalm 34:

“I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. … Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.”

Did you catch that? Fear and radiance, shame and goodness—all intertwined. The psalmist isn’t merely saying, “Believe this.” He’s inviting us to experience it, to live it, to feel it deep in our bones.

“I sought the Lord, and he answered me.”

Seeking is active. It’s not passive waiting; it’s stepping into the mystery, bringing our messy, tangled fears before God. When you seek, you’re opening your heart to the possibility that maybe—just maybe—there’s a love big enough to hold you, even in your darkest moments.

And then? Freedom. Deliverance. The kind of peace that makes fear lose its grip.

“Those who look to him are radiant.”

Radiance—it’s not about physical beauty or perfection. It’s about what happens when you live with the weight of shame lifted off your shoulders. It’s the glow of someone who knows they’re deeply loved, fully seen, and completely accepted.

Have you ever noticed how light seems to pour out of people who’ve encountered that kind of love? Their joy isn’t tethered to circumstances; it flows from something deeper, more unshakable.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

This isn’t a theoretical proposition. It’s an invitation to dive in. To taste. To see. To engage all your senses. The psalmist is saying, “Try it. Take the leap. Experience God’s goodness for yourself.”

Think about tasting—really tasting—a piece of ripe fruit. You don’t analyze it from a distance. You bite into it. The sweetness floods your mouth. It’s immediate. Real. That’s the kind of encounter with God the psalmist is talking about.

So, what’s the invitation here?

It’s not to have all the answers. (we certainly don’t) It’s not to tidy up your life or figure out your theology. (it’s still a work in progress) It’s simply to come. To seek. To look. To taste. To take refuge in a God who is good—always good—even when life feels anything but.

What would it look like for you to bring your fears to God today? To trust that he meets you right there, not with condemnation, but with deliverance?

What if you leaned into his goodness—not as a concept, but as a reality you can taste and see and know?

Let’s live this day tasting, seeing, trusting. Because when we do, radiance isn’t just a possibility; it becomes the very rhythm of our lives.

Grace and peace.

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When Faith Flickers – Finding God in the Shadows of Doubt.

After the death of a loved one, I felt lost. The prayers we had all prayed seemed to have been for nothing. I felt as if God were distant from me, and if I’m being honest, I was angry at Him for not answering my prayers when I needed Him most. I resented Him, and I felt my faith fading away. It wasn’t gone entirely, but I found myself questioning the rhythms and routines of my faith journey. Had I grown too comfortable? Is there more to faith than this? Am I doing it all wrong?

I have discovered that faith, like most things, can wane from time to time. I do not think it’s wrong to express moments of doubt. Because doubt, like shadows, can often cast its long amorphous tendrils over the spaces once illuminated by trust and assurance…but the light is still there.

Time, you see, though a human construct, can separate us from that path, and we begin to forget. What do we forget, you may ask? We forget the fulfillment of God’s promises. We lose sight of the many times we felt His presence with us, and instead we only recall the times when our prayers seemed to go unanswered. Time has a way of allowing those shadows to grow in us. And then our grip is loosened, and our resolve erodes. Often times when this happens, we berate ourselves because we lack faith. Inwardly we cower at the thought that others might discover our shortcomings. Why are we afraid to be vulnerable around other Christ-followers? Do we not realize that they struggle with their faith and doubt too? We often fail to acknowledge that they are also imperfect and just as vulnerable. And yet, oftentimes, our first inclination is to worry about what others might think of our struggles instead of sharing them. Could it be that when we share, we commiserate and encourage others? Instead of sharing, our first instinct is to hide and pretend to be something we are not – perfect. Here’s a confession for you: I am so tired of pretending to be perfect. I despise the masks that we force ourselves to wear. I hate the Christianese jargon that we spout when all of it is shallow and signifies nothing but words that fail to penetrate our hearts.

Can I be real for just a second? I fear that 90% of our offerings to God (worship services, the words we say, catch phrases and platitudes) are performed for the benefit of others and not God…and the flickering flame of our faith continues to dim, and we wonder why.

When Faith Flickers – Ask the Hard Questions.

I think it’s safe to say that God is not threatened by our questions; instead, He invites them as pathways to deeper faith and understanding. When we ask the tough questions it creates authenticity and, believe it or not, it deepens our relationship with Him. We no longer have to placate or utter words that have become routine and ritualistic. Instead, we begin to actually battle with the tangible problems of life. Many times, we tend to avoid the hard questions because they could cause doubt; but in reality, asking the tough questions brings perspective, and in so doing, our faith becomes resilient having been forged in deeper roots.

Don’t Be Afraid of Authenticity.

So throw off the mask, the false pretenses, the Christianese jargon, the constant worry about what others might think because you aren’t acting or dressing the part of what Church is “supposed” to look like. Here’s a newsflash – You are the church. It’s you. It’s been you all this time. God wants YOU to be real and honest with Him about your faith. He doesn’t need any more empty talk that placates but is void of action and credibility. It’s okay to doubt. It’s okay to ask the hard questions, especially when faith begins to flicker. It may seem that the shadows are growing darker around you, but embrace the path that you’re currently on. There’s something to be learned from it all. And when you begin to tackle the daunting, the seemingly insurmountable, and you face the thing you fear the most – you will discover God has never left you. He’s right there with you.

When your faith flickers, and the shadows of doubt may seem overwhelming, but remember that God is not distant or disinterested. He is present in your questions, your fears, and your struggles. Doubt doesn’t disqualify you from His love; it invites you into deeper dependence on Him.

God’s light shines brightest in the darkest moments, guiding you through uncertainty with His truth and grace. Like a steady flame, His faithfulness remains unwavering, even when your faith feels weak. Lean into Him, trusting that He will meet you in the shadows, rekindle your hope, and lead you into a deeper, more resilient faith.

When you walk with God, even flickering faith becomes the foundation for a stronger, enduring trust in His unchanging character and promises.

-Something more to ponder today.

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3 Worship Songs God Hates

tredWe must tread lightly here, for to insinuate that we know the mind of God is dangerous territory.  However, what we know of Him and that of human interaction with the Almighty, there are certainly forms of worship God hates.  Do you think the term “hate” is too strong?  Does God hate?

There are many scriptures that describes the displeasure of God.
One prime example of this is Proverbs 6:16-19

“There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: 17 haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, 18 a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, 19 a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.”

So with that being said, are there things that God hates?
I believe the answer is YES!

Can we then describe moments in worship and in song that could displease God?  Absolutely!  I should also clarify that the term “Worship Song” could be anything we do as we sing to God.  It can contemporary, it can be traditional, or somewhere in the middle.  Are there other things in “worship” other than song?  Of course, but just for this discussion, we are zeroing in on the topic of “Song”…

Here are 3 Worship Songs God Hates: 
Allow me to preface this with the following statement: If you were looking for specific names of songs that God possibly hates, sorry…that’s not what this particular blog post is about.  Again, sorry to disappoint you, I won’t be roasting the latest Chris Tomlin song here today.

But here is what I think are 3 Worship Songs God Hates and why…

1  Songs Sung Out Of Obligation
Have you ever gotten up on a Sunday morning to lead worship and the songs you have selected aren’t really resonating with you?  Sometimes it could be that we are just out of sync with our walk with the Lord…there are certainly seasons of life, and not everything is flowersgoing to be peachy.  But I believe God hates obligatory worship.  Imagine if I were to give flowers to my wife simply because it’s the right thing to do, not that I want to, but rather because it’s expected.  How do you think she would feel if, as I gave her the flowers, I said; “Here’s you weekly obligatory flower arrangement dear!”?  Do you think she would enjoy them and feel loved in my gift of those flowers?  Of course not!

In a way, when we sing songs of worship and adoration to God because we feel obligated, it’s like giving Him flowers that mean nothing to us and are given out of ritual not love and appreciation.  God doesn’t want our obligatory worship songs and our meaningless attempts at worship – He wants it to mean something to us, something that aren’t just meaningless utterances of lyric lines and memorized scriptures.  God hates obligatory praise!

2. Songs Sung Out Love For The Song
Which do we worship, God or our favorite song?
I’m not saying this happens all of the time, but sometimes those worship songs (or even hymns) we sing can become a false idol of our worship.  We just don’t “feel” it when we aren’t singing just the right songs…but if that all time “fav” comes up – we are rockin’ and rollin’ with our hands raised high.  hands

Let me ask a question – is it God that we worship or the song that we sing?
I would hope our answer would be “God”, but there is a danger of placing our favorite song on a place of worship instead of God himself.  God hates the worship of idols – He is truly jealous for our worship and that of us.  He wants all there is of us, not a portion – but our EVERYTHING!  I fear at times, we place the love for a song over the love for God.  Our worship cannot simply revolve around our emotions and how WE feel…We are to worship Him REGARDLESS of how we feel.  Perhaps that is the toughest thing to do, yet through discipline and perseverance, we can!

3. Songs Sung To Display Talent (The Concert Performance)
worshipWorship leader – beware!  Worship was never about how good YOU sing or how Awesome your Guitaring or Piano-ing is… Seriously, if all we do in worship is try to emulate a Hillsong or Jesus culture/David Crowder concert, then we’re going about it all wrong and we need to stop!

Jesus called the Pharisees praying loudly in the streets so that everyone could hear and see them – Hypocrites or Actors.  He certainly had a lot of harsh words to say to those kinds of people – people who knew better.  He even went so far as to call them a brood of vipers.  God abhors actors, fakers and hypocrites.  hypocriteOur worship of God ought not to be a circus displaying our vast array of talents for the world to see.  Real worship isn’t about a concert or our aspirations to be the next big thing in the Top Ten CCLI Worship Leaders.  All these things are earthly desires – as we strive for human accolades and praise.

Such things do not attempt to elevate the name of Jesus, but rather promote our name to the masses.  In the words of U2 “Then they put Jesus in show business, now it’s hard to get in the door…” (God Would Send His Angels, U2)

God hates performances by actors and hypocrites that should have been about who He is, not who the performers are.  Where is the depth of worship here?  I’ll tell you – it’s about an inch deep and a yard wide.  Do our best?  Absolutely!  But if what we do is called “Worship” but it’s not God we are adoring but rather the music and our abilities on stage, then perhaps it’s time to reassess and realign our motivation and goals once again.

Well, we have strolled lightly here today.
The Bottom line, God doesn’t want any substitutes or consolation prizes – He wants our hearts and our attention.  Are there times when we worship with a divided heart or mind?  Are our motivators God honoring or human praise seeking?

What do YOU think?
Something more to ponder today.
God Bless You!

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Dear Salvation Army – A Parable Of US…These are OUR People!!

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in…”  -Matthew 25:35

The Story:

In the frosted air of mid December, where ice is forming, melting in the midday sun, only to refreeze in winter’s kiss at dusk; a man zips up his camping tent for the night.  It will be another bitterly cold attempt at sleep, which has proven elusive and wrought with lingering aches in limbs and ligaments.  The man wraps himself up in multiple blankets of mismatched colors, extinguishes the insignificant blue flame from the juniper green propane camp stove, and settles in for another volatile night of shivering slumber as the constant freeway noise clambers on.  tent

As dawn slips past the horizon of the army green tent flap, which has been frosted and now baptized in a hopeful light; the man untangles himself from the layers of blankets and additional coats laid down in the middle of the night, a stop gap that offered little to no help.  Having survived yet another night languishing in hypothermic rest, the men unzips the tent and stretches out the pain of cramping muscles and battered tendons.  Shivering noticeably through the noise of his chattering teeth, he moves as quickly as his lumbering joints can move as he seeks out somewhere to warm his tired bones.

A few blocks away, the crimson glowing lights of a red shield inscribed with the words “Salvation Army” calls out to him.  The backdoor to the gymnasium has been opened, and there will be warmth within.   As he steps inside, the man encounters the soup kitchen cook, draped in a white billowing apron and a broad smile.  “Good morning friend!”  The cook says in a deep gravelly voice by way of greeting, “would you care for some coffee?”  The shivering man nods and shuffles towards an open chair as others also begin to arrive.  They too have anticipated this moment, and their search for warmth, food, coffee and conversation is at an end.
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The homeless man, still shaking off the bone-seeping coldness in his body, has finally found a safe haven, and with it – his dignity and hope once more…

…The Rest of the Story (As Paul Harvey used to say) 
This is just a glimpse into the lives of those we serve.   Some have had it better than others…
I have sat in our gym and listened to the stories some of our patrons can tell.
Some of them have truly been through hell on earth.
Some battle with constant addictions.
Some with physical or emotional trauma.
All are God’s…they are His…and He speaks to us through their stories of brokenness, pain and sorrow.
He also prods us to do something about their suffering.

homelessYes, Dear Salvationist, it seems like an impossible and never ending task because poverty, addictions and homelessness seem to be constantly knocking on our doors.  The situations are the same, but the faces change over time!   The question is – are we available to help and are we receptive to the Holy Spirit’s leading?  Are we here to be a light when the rest of the world has turned the light off, given up and walked away?  Can we still provide hope and love even if that person is stuck in the cycle of crisis?  Can we offer it without judgement?  Yes, we ought never put a band-aid on deep wounds, but can we serve first then minister?  Or can ministry truly be found IN the service and care of others?

Here is a reality check:  Some may never darken the doors to our sanctuaries on a Sunday morning, but are they not still a member of our congregation if they are at our facility EVERY DAY for a warm meal and a safe place to sit and rest?  I think we miss a far greater opportunity that can be found on Sunday morning if we don’t engage during these moments feeding and conversing.  Dear Salvationist, these are our people too!  They come to us because we are the harbor and they have been shipwrecked by life.   What we say, how we show love, and what we do – MATTERS!

The story I shared with you today, is real.
This man came to our corps and community center years ago, homeless, suicidal and at the end of his rope.  And because the doors to our gymnasium were open, and he found warmth in the company of people in our corps, he is alive today.  His life (literally his life) was saved!  I know that there are many more stories just like this one wherever a Salvation Army facility is located.   Doing the most good isn’t some prideful declaration to the public, instead is ought to be a phrase we ask ourselves every day both personally and organizationally – “Am I/Are We – Doing the most good”?   good

Make a difference in the lives you reach for Christ, and know that our “congregation” is so much larger than just our soldiery on Sunday mornings!

 

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