John 18:1-11

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Those eyes. They will never leave me…

I still can’t really explain it. It had been ordinary night orders, something reserved for rowdy criminals we wanted to catch by surprise, or ones whose arrest might lead to a public scene. This was the latter.

We had all heard the stories, even a few within our ranks claiming this man had benefitted them with miracles. If he really was doing what people said he was, why bother him? I mean, I get it. Civil unrest, peace between our subjects and our empire, potential militarization of the masses. But keeping me from bed for a craftsman from nowhere?!

Still, armor was donned, torches were lit, weapons made ready, and we marched. No activity in the streets, no sound save our foot falls, no light except ours and those through the distant trees growing larger and larger.

Then they were before us, only ten or so men all looking tired, anxious, frightened. All except for one. The money-loving traitor received a push in the back from our commander, then shuffled forward toward one, who stepped confidently toward him. A kiss was exchanged, our signal, as well as some words. We were ready to act swiftly, but before our orders were given, the man stepped forward again, past the traitor and towards us.

His was a face at rest, as content as though he were in his home, enjoying his family having just shared a delicious meal.

“Who are you looking for?”

His words filled the silent space around us, a presence to them that was claustrophobic and comforting at the same time.

After a significant hesitation, our commander replied, “Jesus of Nazareth.” His voice never seemed so small.

That’s when it happened. This man, Jesus, calmly spoke three words, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground, trying to catch my breath. As I squirmed in the dirt, I assessed. No one was behind or above me. His people hadn’t moved either, but seemed as shocked as we were. I rose to my knees, then to my feet, completely unsure of what to do next. I looked in the direction of my commander, but again Jesus spoke first.

“Who are you looking for?”

Every one of our company tensed, ready for the force behind his words, whatever it was, to knock us down again. We braced as our commander again said, “Jesus of Nazareth.” We were ready this time, gripping our weapons tightly and standing as though we were about to be charged by an oncoming army.

“I am He.” Jesus said it again, same as before, but nothing happened this time. I looked to my peers, but they were still on their feet, exchanging glances as their muscles lost some of their tension. Jesus continued, “I already told you that. If I’m who you’re after let these men go.” As he said that last statement, he gestured behind him, indicating that he was speaking of his men.

The image from that night that has stuck with me all of these years was not Jesus’ face, nor my view from the ground when mere words forced me to it. It is that moment when Jesus stood between us and his followers. Jesus walked calmly towards us, allowing himself to be restrained and led away by a Roman army. Our company began to move, but I was still frozen, staring intently into those eyes. They were still wide, having frozen the moment Jesus demanded he be let free, the hand of the leader sweeping across all of those standing behind him, protected by his presence, and not stopping before it came to rest on him, the traitor.

Those eyes, frozen in shock over their unbearable freedom. They’re still with me.

Fighting For Satisfaction

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Get stubborn. There is no chance of delighting ourselves in the Lord if we are not aggressive in our fight to do so. 

The whole world pulls with its entire weight in the opposite direction of Christ. Other gospels declare their “good news” relentlessly. Everything around us tells us that the good life is something else, anything else besides Jesus. Weight loss, love, intimacy, attraction, dominance, power, safety, comfort, approval, each with a million and one different ways to get there. Entire companies and billions upon billions of dollars are focused solely on preying upon your insecurities, feeding twisted visions of the good life, and convincing you that their product is the way to get there. Your addiction is their profit. Your anxiety is their gain. Your insecurity is their livelihood.

Our every effort must go into knowing and being close to Christ. What we see, listen to, say, read, watch, engage with in our free time, all of it must be exhaustingly spent on God. This may feel like burying our heads in the sand, foolish Christians ignoring the world around them and seeing only what they want to see, while actually remaining in constant peril and serving no purpose in the “real world.” But what we see is not the real world, and our heads are not being buried in the sand, but kept above the clouds in heaven. We do not ignore the world around us, but we become infatuated with God, who in turn gives us the eyes to see the world as it truly is; greatly valuable and utterly damaged. This is not a rescinding of social responsibility, but living from our rightful place at the right hand of God, where everything sits under our feet because of the victory of Jesus. Only from there can we properly see the world and bless it with the heavenly blessings given to us by Christ Jesus. Everything we do apart from this position is done in our own strength, lacking the power of God, and is akin to pouring gasoline on a fire while believing with all of our hearts that we are putting it out. We pat ourselves on the back for our great service to humankind, while in reality we are burning the world to ashes.

God help us. 

Help us to turn from the exhaustion that comes from the endless frustration of pursuing satisfaction anywhere else, and help us to exhaust ourselves in the only pursuit that matters, the pursuit of You.

Help us in every moment of our life to choose that which points us to you, despising all else.

Help us to keep you on our lips, in our thoughts, filling our hearts.

Help us to choose the company of others who will not let us off the hook when we fail to pursue you, but will lovingly encourage and point us back to you.

Help us to scorn every excuse and reason and distraction and “barrier” that keeps us from zealously following you.

Help us to LOVE your Word, delight in prayer, enjoy discipline, crave God-obsessed community, and cherish every step we take that conforms to your footprint, even as it leads us to self-denial, suffering, and death.

Help us to keep our head above the clouds.

Unlocking Heaven by Giving Up On Yourself

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“Got any storms in your life? Stop fighting the storm and worrying about it; instead, fall on your knees and admit you need Mighty Warrior to save you. He waits every day for you to come to the end of yourself and start depending on Him.” - 50 Days of Knowing Him

I am constantly depending on myself. It’s pervasive, in everything I do, everything I say. And I can call out the ineffectiveness of this in other people, see with great clarity how their efforts have not gotten them what they want, have led them to destruction and despair at worst, or a half-life at best. I do it too, I just depend on myself “in the name of Jesus.”

No wonder I am so hard on myself. No wonder it is so easy for me to have standards I do not meet, and then feel anxiety when I don’t meet them. Because Jesus saved me, but now it’s my turn to work. It’s my turn to get better. I have to complete what Jesus started every day, or at least prove that I was worth His sacrifice. That is in direct opposition to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

All of my efforts are dirty rags before Him, including my efforts after I’ve been saved, MY efforts in HIS name. I was utterly dead in my sin, bound for eternal separation from God. I contributed nothing to my salvation. It was a free and lavish gift.

And in exchange for my ugly and shameful sin, God gave me eternal life and every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places. He gave me full access to Himself and His friendship, as well as full access to His resources. But if I don’t think I need them, I’m not going to ask for them. If I’m not going to ask for them, then I am not going to experience them. And if I am not experiencing them, I’m going to wonder what is wrong with me or with Christianity, because it promises on every page of scripture to be more than a fledgling and weak faith.

So, what does it take to live the good life, the fullness of life that Jesus has promised us? Giving up on yourself and asking for help. Total and utter dependence on God’s power and resources in every situation, every moment of your life. Getting really freaking good at saying, “God help me.” Thinking less of your abilities and efforts and ascribing limitless potential to God’s ability worked through your life.

The Forgotten Calling of Church Leaders

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We as leaders in the church are a called people, chosen to lead God’s people back to God on a daily basis, whether they are looking for him or not. But our calling is not what you might expect. We are not called to productivity or results. We are not called to strategies or success. We are not even called to the people we serve or the work God gives us.

We are called to God himself.

The leaders of God’s church have much work to do, plenty of things to keep them busy and occupy their time, and they are good things! The work God has for us is good and to be obeyed. However, before participating in the “work” of leading the church, we are called to intimacy with God.

When Jesus chose his twelve disciples, He called “those whom He Himself wanted, and they came to Him.” (Mark 3:13) Only after Jesus had called these men to himself did he task them with what they were to do, which was to preach, heal, and cast out demons. In short, they were to use words to say and miracles to display the kingdom of Heaven, but only after and out of their proximity to Jesus himself.

In the church, our calling as leaders is to be with Jesus. The command is come, follow him, and abide, for apart from Jesus we can do nothing. (John 15:5) Only out of rich union with the Father through Jesus can we pay attention to the work and words of the Holy Spirit in, through, and around us. No other way can we see the providential leading of God when a ministry is unable to gain momentum/finances/volunteers and others deem it a failure. No other way can we speak a difficult and unpopular truth when speaking something more palatable would be more sensible. No other way can we remain in the will of God immediately following a major breakthrough or move of God, when it is most tempting to celebrate and bask in the goodness of the gift when the Giver is already on the move, ready to do more good through us for someone else.

Abiding. Intimacy. Nearness. Entering into our calling to knowing and being with Jesus is the only way to accomplish the work God has for us in His way and His will. And be sure not to confuse our work with our worship. Just because you spend time doing the work of the ministry doesn’t insure you are vitally connected to the One who gave you the work in the first place. Personal prayer must come before professional intercession. Allowing the Scriptures to pierce us must proceed presentations of God’s Word to others. Constant conversation with our Savior has to happen before we counsel His people. Prioritizing our calling to connection with Christ can turn our work into worship, but if we miss this step, we will inevitably end up worshiping our work.

Seek First

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“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:33

Seek First. It’s really very simple. Before we do anything, anything at all, we are to turn our eyes to Jesus and look for his activity, his whereabouts, his way of doing things. Before we walk into a meeting. Before we get out of bed. Before we respond to our kids’ latest outburst. Before we sit down to go over the budget. Before we eat a meal, go on a date, begin a project, have a conversation, ask for forgiveness, go on a hike… Before we do anything, we are to seek Jesus first.

Why don’t we? Personally, it’s easier if I just flow through my day under my own strength and direction and power. It’s easier if I just work my tail off to get things done, even in the name of Jesus, making my own decisions and what seems best to me.

Yes, as we walk with Jesus our hearts and minds should look more and more like Christ’s, and we should have more heavenly wisdom working in and through us because we have been practicing the way of Jesus for an extended amount of time, and yes, these things do happen. But I haven’t experienced enough of that “over-time-transformation” in myself (or anyone else for that matter) to justify NOT seeking first before all things. I’ve never seen anyone get to a point where they are so Christlike that they don’t need to turn their hearts and minds to Jesus as often as humanly possible. Actually, anyone I’ve ever met or read about who could be considered the most Christlike among us are the ones who constantly and deliberately turn their attention to Jesus.

It’s like if you were to try to uncoil an incredibly strong spring. You might get it to move a little, and it might even begin to straighten out under the force of your strength, but as soon as you let go it returns to its original coil, every time. That’s you and me and the sin nature that we were born with. Don’t get me wrong, when Jesus saves someone through faith, they are eternally saved and he’s got them covered by his blood. But we still wrestle with that sin nature every day, and if we are not applying direct force to our souls every day, we will continuously spring back to our original bent towards sin and self-destruction. We must seek first, all day, every day.

Almost always, when challenged with something like this in Scripture, I immediately think of how I can apply it and practically live it out. And thinking of seeking first, I thought of my schedule, of reminders on my phone, of things written on the wall or even my skin to remind me to seek Jesus first at all moments of the day. But as I am writing this, I am growing increasingly convinced that one of the best and most important things that you and I could do to practically live this out is to do it together.

A pastor at my church recently revealed some truth about our resolve. He called out what we sometimes refer to as our “iron will” and the confidence that we have in our ability to change ourselves and accomplish things. But he called it a false confidence, saying that “iron will” is more like aluminum foil. He could not have been more right. How many times have we had New Year’s Resolutions that we forgot about by the end of January? How many times have we claimed we would never do that again, whatever “that” is for you? How many times have we wanted to do something positive and healthy for our spiritual life and been conveniently distracted by anything and everything around us?

But what if, instead of relying on our “aluminum foil will,” we worked together to seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness?

What if, when someone asked us to pray for something, we in turn asked them if they had sought Jesus yet? And if they hadn’t, then we sought Jesus together, right then and there, and prayed together for wisdom and God’s kingdom to come and his will to be done in the situation?

What if, at the start of the day, we texted each other to remind each other to seek Jesus first?

What if we reached out to each other and confessed when we really didn’t want to, or when we hadn’t sought Jesus first? What those friends then sought Jesus for you and with you?

And what if we DID do all of the things that would help us remember to seek first, but we did them together? Created art or graphics that we could keep in our homes, cars, offices, wallets that reminded us to seek first? Set reminders together to seek first? Looked at and prayed over and invited Jesus into our schedules together?

It might not result in an iron will, but several sheets of aluminum foil is definitely stronger than one.

The entire Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) seems to be an invitation to togetherness. We are all in the same sinking boat of sin, no one is perfect. We are all supposed to pray in the same way. We are all supposed to grow in faith in God’s provision. We are all supposed to work together to repair broken relationships and strive for unity. And while I think this can be done to an admirable degree on our own, I can’t help but see Jesus inviting us into a new level of faith and relationship with him, one that can only be lived in if we depend on each other.

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:33

What Do You Doubt About Your Faith?

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Q: What do you doubt about your faith/Christianity?

Life after death. 

Feels funny saying that out loud, especially as a pastor. But, like everything else in life, there is nuance to the answer.

I wonder if “doubt” is the right word, or if “scares the crap out of me” might be better? What scares me is that I could be wrong. Wrong about heaven. Wrong that there is an eternal life waiting for me after death. Instead of a glorified existence where there is no more pain or tears or suffering, it’s just infinite blackness. Like click, the lights go out. The end.

Isn’t that like the biggest selling point for Christianity, immortality? How on earth could I still be a pastor when this is the thing that I doubt? 

Well, first off, I don’t think anyone is 100% certain about life after death. Sure, there are stories of people dying and coming back to life who report seeing God or heaven or whatever, but I haven’t been there myself, so I’m still 100% sure. I don’t know that I would even trust a pastor who said they were 100% certain because they would probably have “evidence” that might make me think they were a crazy person. Or I’d always feel guilty for being a human with doubts when the leader of my church was positive about all aspects of faith.

But second, and I think more importantly, while I may have moments of fear about what is going to happen after I die, I have many, MANY more moments of assurance and confidence about my faith while I’m still living.

I have to say at the outset that I have a pretty high view of God, meaning I believe he can do anything. I don’t really doubt that he could have created the universe with his words, or that he can speak to us, or that he guided the Bible into existence through authors thousands of years ago, or that he lived on earth, died, and rose from the dead to give us the power to live new lives. If God is who he says he is, then all of those things are par for the course, in my opinion. God can do those things and I believe he did because of the biblical account, the archeological and anthropological findings that support them. And even without these “evidences” from other fields of study, I still find myself believing that we were created and that a relationship with God was the point.

Now, included in my beliefs is the belief in eternal life. However, the biblical description of eternal life is not simply life after death, though it certainly includes that (Revelation 21:3-4). The bible acknowledges that death still comes for us all, but that it is not the final reality of our existence (Romans 6:23, 1John 2:17). The eternal life we receive, however, is the existence that continues after death.

Most of the references in scripture to eternal life have to do with two things however: not dying/eternal life, and knowing God.

In one of my favorite verses in all of scripture, Jesus says it this way:

Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. John 17:3

I would be incapable of following a belief system that did not have practical implications on my day to day living, and this verse (among others) assures me that one of the tenets of my faith, eternal life, has current ramifications. Eternal life is not simply about existing forever. It is not solely about experiencing pleasure and good things for all of time. It includes these things, but it has far more to do with knowing God in real and tangible ways than anything else.

The God of the Bible is depicted as “slow to anger and abounding in love” as I have stated in another post, and we will discuss how to approach the places in scripture where this doesn’t seem to be the case in an upcoming discussion. But overarching it all, we may approach a relationship with God understanding that he IS love (1 John 4:8). He is the perfect example of what love looks like, how it behaves, what it values, and the way it orders a life. If we look at Jesus, we can do so knowing we are looking at a perfect representation of a life ruled by love.

That being said, eternal life becomes about knowing Love himself, and that knowing starts now. I have had enough experience getting to know God, enough years ruled by love, enough times in prayer and in reading scripture and in conversation with others and in persevering through crappy life situations that I can affirm that God is in fact love, and that I know him.

Having known God for so many years I can confidently say I’ve been experiencing eternal life, and it is a good life. It is one that is ruled by love, one where the needs of others are a higher concern than my own yet my own needs are met every time they arise both by the hand of God and through the love of his people. It is one where I regularly lay down my life in an effort to display the compassion of God, and continues to be worth it even when I am ill treated and unloved by others. It is one where I am compelled by the God of justice to fight for the rights of the oppressed and downcast, while recognizing that I can minutely impact my small world and doing so anyways. It is one that is governed by grace, humility, and forgiveness, where I hold myself responsible for cleaning up the messes that I make but not for endlessly punishing myself with guilt and shame, living with a clear heart and free mind. It is one that commands me to love and be loved across all lines and boundaries and attempts we make at division and hatred.

It’s a good freaking life, and I don’t know how I could exist any other way as an imperfect human with other imperfect humans in an imperfect world. And if this is eternal life here and now, and the promise is that it will continue in perfection after I die, well then I’d rather spend my life holding out hope and living well than resigning myself to hopeless and selfish living. I’ve experienced God fulfilling his word to me enough times that I tend to think He’ll continue to do so after death. But if I get to the other side and it is all over, well I’ll be really satisfied with a life lived the way it’s meant to be lived for anyone who claims to follow Jesus. 

Don’t get me wrong, I think part of the journey of faith is wrestling with our doubts and taking them to God and asking for answers or peace, and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. But doubt isn’t sin. I believe hopelessness in the face of doubt is, because then we begin to disbelieve that God is good (Exodus 34:6) and that he is in fact working all things for good for those who love him (Romans 8:28).

And maybe you didn’t care about that entire conversation we just had, but more than anything you need to hear that it is ok to doubt. So, there you go. You’re human, welcome to the club. As for me though, I’m going to doubt towards faith, if you’d like to join me.

What Do I Do If I Know A Pastor Is Living In Habitual Sin?

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Question:

What do I do if I know a pastor is living in habitual sin?


*GASP* QUICK! CALL THE TABLOIDS! ALERT THE POLICE! WRITE A CLICKBAIT ARTICLE! A PASTOR HAS SINNED!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, now that that ridiculous corniness is out of my system, if you were sitting in the room with me and asked that question, I’d probably look at you blankly and say, “And…?”

I am not making light of the question nor the issue, but I do want to make sure we are realistic here. Pastors are people too. Shocking, I know. And since every pastor is a person, every pastor sins. Regularly. Every day in fact. You could even say they have a habit of sinning, just like every other person on the face of the planet.

You see, sin means “to miss the mark.” In Christianity what this means is that God made us perfectly and set up the world and our relationship with it perfectly. We were designed to live in unbroken trust of and relationship with God. But, thanks to Adam and Eve, that trust and relationship were both broken, and every human in the history of history has missed the mark of unbroken relationship with God.

That is fundamental, foundational, original sin, and our hearts are now naturally, in their resting state, inclined to move away from God instead of towards him. Even Christians. Jesus has made it possible for our relationship with God to be restored, and though we have a new heart and a new mind and a new life, we still have our natural urge to move away from God. This is the Already-Not-Yet theology you may have heard of, where we are currently saved by God and restored to a right relationship with him, but we also live in a broken world and in bodies and minds that want to distrust and disobey God. 

Discipleship or following Jesus, then, is at its core a daily reliance upon God to make the decisions and live the life that God intended for us, one in which our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors match His original design. It is a good and beautiful design too, one where life is valued and people are honored and property is respected and all are invited into friendship with God. But there are a million and one ways we can come up with to walk in the opposite direction of God, and most days we don’t even have to find them. They’re just there. Which is why following Jesus, while about the way we live life, must be founded and completely dependent upon God’s grace and favor and kindness.

We couldn’t have come back to God on our own, we wouldn’t have even wanted to, which we see demonstrated in our daily desire to go our own way. And we can’t live a perfect day even when we know the exact way God would have us live, because none of us is perfect. No one can go love every one of their neighbors as themselves, or love God with all of their heart, soul, mind, and strength every second of every day. So we rely upon grace and forgiveness, confessing our sins to God and each other, praying for healing, and moving on with our lives.

Every single thing I just said applies to pastors just as completely as it does to you.

We are not an extra-saved, extra-holy, extra-not-inclined-to-sin people. Pastors are humans, just like you. The only difference is while you have been called to love and serve the body of Christ, they have been called to lead it, and that is no small task.

Titus 1:6 and 1 Timothy 3:2 both outline the expectations of a leader in the church. If you read them both, you will realize it is no small list.

  • Blameless as a steward of God, above reproach

  • Faithful husband to his wife

  • Temperate, sober, vigilant

  • Sober-minded, prudent

  • Of good behavior, orderly, respectable

  • Given to hospitality

  • Able to teach

  • Not given to wine

  • Not violent, not pugnacious

  • Patient, moderate, forbearing, gentle

  • Uncontentious, not soon angry or quick-tempered

  • Not covetous, not a lover of money

  • Rules his own house well, his children are faithful, not accused of rebellion to God

  • Not a novice or new convert

  • Has a good rapport or reputation with outsiders

  • Not self-willed

  • A lover of what is good

  • Just, fair

  • Holy, devout

  • Self-controlled

  • Hold firmly to the faithful message as it has been taught


These are the indicators that show that a pastor is living the way God commands them to, and one of these topics is probably what you are referring to when you refer to habitual sin.

Again, I believe pastors need grace like everyone else, which includes an understanding that they are imperfect as well. But when it comes to a habitual pattern of sin in one of these areas, what we should expect out of a pastor, rather than perfection, is a consistent effort to overcome the regular engagement of these issues, as well as a track record of victory.

Pastors are to set the example for the rest of the church, but their example will never be sinlessness, as I think many in the church are inclined to delusionally believe somewhere in their psyche. Instead, the example of a pastor should be consistent victory over sin, which comes by way of regular confession, accountability, and vulnerability with individuals they know and trust. It will require them to be brutally honest about their faults and defects, not with the whole congregation, but with select individuals who pray for them and spur them on. It will mean they need to have safeguards and habits in place that lead them away from their sinful appetites, which overall creates a lifestyle of godliness and holiness.

And just as in the Old Testament when the priests in the temple were required to sacrifice an animal for their sins before they could sacrifice animals for the sins of God’s people, the pastor must daily confess, repent, and receive forgiveness for their sins.

When a pastor is either unrepentant or unwilling to grow, or they have a habitual sin that is not consciously being confessed and worked on practically to be overcome, this is when there is concern for the church. If a pastor does not have systems in place to check their heart and life against the list above with someone else, this is when action needs to be taken to course correct. And like so much of our lives as Christians, the response and application is sure to be nuanced. It could require the pastor to take a leave of absence, or to simply introduce systems and habits in their lives that insure accountability and growth, or immediate removal from their position of authority.

But why does it feel like there is a difference between a pastor who is not patient and one that is sleeping with someone outside of their marriage, when both are included in the passages above? Well, that has to do with the rest of scripture, which speaks into various examples and situations of these sins in the church, as well as the severity of the negative impact and destruction these sins have. Scripture clearly states there is immense repercussion for someone involved in an affair, because “sexual sin is against one’s own body,” while none of the others are. We must consider passages like this when dealing with specific sins in a pastor's life, while also understanding that because the calling of leadership of the church is a high calling, the consequences of any sin should be greater for a pastor than a church member.

Above all, as with any other member of a church, we must be driven by love. 1 John tells us that there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear because fear has to do with punishment. When addressing sin in anyone’s life, the goal must be redemption and restoration for that person, an existence where they are free from the control and shame and guilt and fear and pain sin exerts over a life, and rich with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control in dynamic relationships with God and others. Too often we have thought of church discipline being designed just to punish, humiliate, or protect the rest of the church. But since the church is a place filled with imperfect humans, there is always risk involved when love is invested there. 

Love must always be invested in the church. In every season, scenario, and addressing of sin, love must be the ruling force, because, while we have been given many instructions on how to live, the two greatest commands involve loving God and loving each other. If you have prayed and sought wise counsel and believe you should approach someone in authority in the church about the pastor’s sin, then you should. Their leadership is their calling and they cannot fulfill their calling if they are actively rebelling against God in unhealthy ways, so they need loving, humble people who care about them to bring their sin to their attention.

But also understand that you probably do not have positional or relational authority in their life, and might need to approach someone who does like the elders or leadership of the church. Rather than attempting to discredit a pastor in the name of truth or justice, approach the situation knowing they are human like you, and are probably doing their best to honor God and people. Try not to villainize your pastor or anyone else needing to be free from sin, at least they’re asking for help (or were lovingly exposed by God) and have hope for healing, unlike so many of us who hide in our sin and shame.

Finally, take time to earnestly pray for your pastor's health, healing, holiness, and wholeness. We all sin, we just have the responsibility of helping others learn to live in freedom on top of fighting to do it ourselves, and we need your prayers and support as much as you need ours.

This is a serious topic, and we are meant to treat it seriously. But we are meant to do so with overwhelmingly love and a deep, deep commitment to speaking only the truth to one another in that context of love.

Can I Have Suicidal Thoughts And Still Be A Christian?

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Before we get into this piece, let me say that if you are currently having thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255. There is no shame in struggling with these thoughts or in asking for help. You are valuable to me and to so many other people around you, and the person on the other end of that phone number cares deeply about your existence. We love you. You are strong. Please make the call.Before we get into this piece, let me say that if you are currently having thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255. There is no shame in struggling with these thoughts or in asking for help. You are valuable to me and to so many other people around you, and the person on the other end of that phone number cares deeply about your existence. We love you. You are strong. Please make the call.


Question: Can I be a Christian and have suicidal thoughts? 

Absolutely. Otherwise I wasn’t a Christian for a recent season in my life.

I like to say that while my family is physically built like oxen, mentally we are like fine china. It’s a little extreme, but we are generally healthy in our bodies and have struggles in the chemical makeup of our brains. Among the mental struggles in my family tree are:

  • Bipolar disorder

  • Panic disorder

  • Depression

  • Anxiety

  • Personality disorder

  • Addiction


That being said, I have had a front row seat to some of the most courageous and selfless actions someone could take in those situations. 

I have watched family members go to intensive rehab, work to manage their addictions, and learn an entirely different way of existing in the world as they emerged from substance-induced fogs. 

I have seen loved ones go through the incredibly terrifying process of starting new medications, encountering horrifying mental side-effects, weathering physical side effects of dosage changes, and holding on long enough to find the right combination of drug and dose to live a “normal” life.

I have seen the death of pride, guilt, shame, and fear as someone has owned for the very first time their mental struggles and reached out for the help they’ve always wanted but were perpetually too afraid to ask for.

I have seen them get back up with the help of loved ones after they’ve attempted to take their own lives.

In this way, my family are my heroes, especially because I have seen all of the dark places they have been before they made their greatest feats of strength and courage.

I’ve also been there.

My first foray into the world of mental health was when I was in 8th grade. My family life had been complicated ever since  my parents divorced when I was 7 years old. They were trying to figure out their new normal in both healthy and unhealthy ways, and as young kids my sister and I experienced the repercussions of their choices. It was a very rough ride, to say the least.

I also felt incredibly lonely. I was a pretty awkward kid with very few buddies, none of whom I thought considered me a friend, and with not a few bullies. I was teased for my clothes, my hair, and especially my weight.

I felt big feelings, ones that I didn’t think anyone wanted to hear and I had nowhere to unleash and let go. When some students at school began discussing “cutting” and it got them some attention, I was intrigued.

One day I was sitting on the counter at my home and I held a steak knife to my wrist, lightly moving it up and down my flesh. I was too scared to follow through, but too sad not to try anything that might make me feel seen and valuable.

My sister walked in, she went and got my dad, and he walked briskly in to ask, “What are you doing?!” His tone, which then felt harsh but I now know was expressing love and fear, made me shrivel up inside.

I went to the school counselor the next day after no one said anything to each other in my house the entire night before, and told him what happened. Before I knew it, I was in a mental hospital on a unit with other disturbed youth. Over the 7 day stay I had there, I listened to them try to outdo one another in the harm they had caused themselves with sharp objects and household cleaning solutions. And as I sat listening, I had an incredibly clear thought:

“I’m not like them.”

Once the medical tests confirmed that I had no chemical imbalances at that time (I would be diagnosed with panic disorder after college), I realized that what I had been doing on the counter was looking for attention, however negative it might have been, and that there were better ways to get that attention. I didn’t discover the absurdly intense love of Jesus until the next year in 9th grade, and it was then that I started to understand that my life had value.

Your life and heart and mind and thoughts and emotions and entire existence is precious to Jesus, no matter who you are or what you have done. There was a moment in 9th grade when I had an image of Jesus on the cross, me standing underneath him, and he said, “Even if you were the only person on the planet in all of history, I would die for you so that you would know my love and we could be together for eternity.”

Please know that you are seen and loved by the God who knew your name before He created all things, and that there are people around you who care about you more than you know.


My second major season in which I had suicidal thoughts was much more recently, within the last year. That means it happened while I was a pastor and had been a Christian for over 15 years, and not one ounce of my being thinks I wasn’t a Christian while I wrestled with these things.

I had a resurgence of extremely negative thoughts towards myself, something I’ve gone to therapy for in the past. It is so intense that I would label it as self-hatred. Internally I would say horrific things about myself, declaring I was worthless because of my actions and disgusting to my very core. This was a coping mechanism, one that existed to help me learn from my mistakes and lead me towards perfection. I thought I was worthless at my core and that my imperfections caused others to think less of me or would eventually cause them to leave me. So I internally abused myself with silent verbal assaults to change my behavior, like a drill sergeant that is intent on breaking an individual in the cruelest and most vicious way possible, “for the greater good.”

I recognized the uptick in the presence and ferocity of these thoughts about myself and knew I should probably return to therapy to get help, but I was prideful and ashamed, thinking that I should have learned to love myself at the age of 12 or something.

However, with these thoughts rattling around my head constantly, affirming core beliefs I had about my worthlessness, it wasn’t long before the thoughts took a leap to the next logical step. I had a couple thoughts that said, “It would be easier for the people around you and for yourself if you weren’t around.”

I did not make a plan on how to kill myself, but I also refused to keep those thoughts stuffed inside. It scared the hell out of me. I told my wife, I told a friend, and I reached out to a therapist. I have started learning to love myself and to receive the value God has for me.

And again, I don’t think I was ever not Christian.

I think of Elijah the prophet, who was so depressed he just laid on the ground, napped, had a snack, and wished he were dead. I think of Moses, who murdered someone and then felt such despair that he ran away into the desert without a plan. I think of Jesus, who wept bitterly the night before his execution, asking God if there was another way but refusing to jealordize the plan of God and a relationship with us. 

Jesus is not scared of our deepest, darkest thoughts. There is nothing new under the sun, he has seen it all and experienced our pain. And that doesn’t lead him to roll his eyes and wish you would get your act together. No. It leads him to reflexively respond out of his incredible kindness. He loves you. He delights in you. And not even you can stop him from doing that.

Christians, no matter how hard they work to make you believe otherwise, struggle with an incredible amount of pain, wounds, sin, evil, disgusting impulses and thoughts that would make others squirm if they were said out loud. But I think that is where these things start to lose their power of shame and self-hatred over us: out loud. When we start to unveil some of these things with someone who loves us, we start to see how insubstantial and puny they are compared to God’s love. Maybe before we get that perspective we can at least see that our friends deal with blush-inducing thoughts as well.

This is the stuff of real life that Jesus broke the power of when he died on the cross, and it is the stuff the church is meant to be a part of healing. Unfortunately, for too long we have hidden everything besides “niceness,” sweeping the raw and ugly parts of ourselves under the rug and allowing them free reign in our minds. But what is ridiculously encouraging to me is that the first step towards healing and freedom is not a huge one. It may be terrifying but it is not an insurmountable obstacle to scale. It is not simply repeating scripture until it is memorized and reflexive. It is not reading enough of the Bible. It is not volunteering or giving or praying our way into health. It is opening our mouths.

You can be a Christian and have suicidal thoughts, but Jesus invites you to open your heart to someone else and let these things no longer terrorize you as thoughts only in your mind. Instead they can become burdens that are shared by someone else, which in turn can help us realize they have been shared by Jesus, with love and compassion, all along.

At least, that’s what has helped me.

Dancing Through Minefields - An Introduction

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“The Bible is full of black and white truths that we have to learn to apply to an increasingly greyscale world.” - Me

While most people nod and agree when I tell them this, it is far more personally offensive than they might realize in the moment.

To those who agree because they are in agreement that the Bible is black and white, it is an offensive statement because mining the depths of Scripture to find the truth is much harder than simply listening to your favorite preachers, reading your favorite publications, or talking with your favorite friends and regurgitating what they say. Most of the time we cultivate circles of influence that affirm what we want to hear, even to the exclusion of what the Bible actually says, and to acknowledge that requires humility, and correcting it requires work.

The Bible is full of stories, poems, and era specific communication between God and humans that it takes great care to peel apart and discover the truth and what is applicable to us now. To do so requires knowledge of how to study the Bible and an understanding of faith traditions throughout history that together reveal eternal truth, not to mention wisdom to apply the truth to your world. Even the clear commands found in Scripture like “Love your neighbor” require work, because: Who is my neighbor? How do I love them? Is it enough to tolerate them, or just mentally agree I should love them? Is it only when I feel like it? And what about when they are unjust, because the Bible certainly cares about justice as well?!

To those who agree because they affirm that the world is greyscale and nuanced, it is an offensive statement because of the assertion that the Bible holds capital T Truth. We live in an age where we are encouraged to “live your truth,” and while the idea of affirming other people is biblical, it does not mean we affirm every decision they make or thought they believe to be truth. Think about it, someone can live their truth as long as their truth doesn’t hinder our lives. As soon as it does, we get agitated and cancel them and call it self-care. This leaves no room for choosing love over all else, where we make the decision to honor and value all people as made in the image of God by having honest conversation and doing the gritty, exhausting, and emotional work of cultivating steadfast and compassionate friendships. It is easier to caricaturize someone as mean, dumb, evil, intolerant, sexist, or anything else that entitles me to disregard them, rather than love them enough to know them, have conversation with them, disagree with them, and choose to love them still, even if they end up proving my initial assessment of them to be true.

I have been working in the church for 8 years now and in Christian ministry for 12 years, and the Lord has shown me one Truth that will always guide me and one aspect of my personality and heart that I care about deeply and want to bring to the church setting.

The Truth the Lord has shown me is this:

Love is always the right answer.

There is no higher calling on God’s people than to love God with our entire being and to love the people around us in the same way we love ourselves. The most beautiful thing is that this calling is not self-motivated, but responsive. God delights in the people he has created, and while he rejoices in the renewed relationships he has with people who put their faith in him, his heart breaks in love over those who have not. His first thought when he thinks about any human is not anger. His first reaction to us when we ignore him, walk away from him, or live life in ways he did not intend is not disappointment. His heart lavishes love on his entire creation. 

God is “slow to anger and abounding in love.” That means it takes a long time to get him angry while his reflex towards us is love, which motivates every word and law and command and conversation and relationship that God initiates. No matter who it is with. No matter what it is about. God is motivated by and acts out of love, which should be the ideal of the Church, all of those people who say they have faith in Jesus. However, because the Church is filled with imperfect people, we will get it wrong, probably daily for the rest of our lives. But true followers of Jesus will fight to make love their highest value each day, and will clean up the messes that occur when they get it wrong. Thank God he has made this faith run on grace and forgiveness, otherwise we’d either have to take the ruthless punishment we can inflict on ourselves and each other daily, or we’d have to give up entirely.

The part of my personality that the Lord has taught me to love and offer to the church is this:

I don’t tolerate B.S. very well. 

(Even though there isn’t a person alive who does not know what I mean, I’ve chosen to abbreviate this particular phrase to “B.S.” so that rather than writing emails about my word choice, readers can concern themselves with the point of the article instead.)

From a young age I have intensely valued honesty and transparency and have let that influence all areas of my life. For example, from the moment I started dating my wife I was in love and she was perfect. Too perfect. I actually sat her down and told her to be more herself around me because she was too cookie cutter perfect and I knew there was a goofy and real and imperfect human in there that I wanted to know. She did, and I loved what I found.

I have approached nearly every relationship in my life in the same way. I want people to be honest. Real. Vulnerable. Imperfect. Themselves. Human.

The church has done a wonderful job of collectively agreeing that imperfection is intolerable and we must do whatever we can to convince ourselves and everyone around us that we do not have flaws, we never sin, and we have zero doubts about our faith.

But that is a lie, and didn’t the one we are lying in the name of call himself “the Truth”?

I am convinced that Jesus has something to say to the deepest hidden places in our hearts and minds.

I believe he has tenderness towards our doubts and will provide us the answers or comfort that we need when faced with them.

I believe he has love towards us when we sin and forgiveness for the atrocious things we do and think and say to each other.

I believe he has compassion towards our flaws and grace to help us grow and become better versions of ourselves than we currently are.

If not, if these things are not true, then what was the point of Jesus hanging on the cross?

I believe to the core of my being that the world would be a better place if people felt the comfort and love of Jesus in such great measure that no topic or conversation would be off-limits. We would know that we could approach a Christian and ask them a really hard question, and whether they knew the answer that moment or not, we would never be judged or shamed for asking. And even as the conversation progressed and the list of disagreements grew larger and larger, we could be safe knowing that at the end of the discussion the person sitting across from us would love us earnestly and practically.

When we live life together following after Jesus, there has to be a foundation of Truth and Love that guides all of our days together, and this project is an attempt to build some of that foundation. I am imperfect. I will get things wrong and have to go back and correct them. You will disagree with me at some point. You might not like my tone or sometimes silliness. You might not like what the Bible has to say or the way I interpret it through my study of it. And you probably won’t like that I will not give you an answer that you can either affirm and love me for or reject and hate me for. If you want to continue to engage with the topic you will probably find that you'll have to do your own work to learn and study and grow and have conversations with other humans.

But I won’t beat around the bush. I won’t choose the “Right Christian Answers” without reason. And I will never choose anything other than love as my foundation and final answer every single time.

So many of you have already submitted so many anonymous questions to the prompt “What question would you never ask a pastor?”. I thank you for that and say “Keep Submitting!” (the link to do so is below). If you choose to walk with me as we engage the questions of real life, know that at the end of the day these two things will be true:

  1. These questions will be answered because I won’t tolerate B.S. or superficiality, and instead will choose to be honest and address difficult or taboo topics, even to the point of making us both uncomfortable, because Jesus loves you in those messy places within you just as much as in the pretty ones.

  2. These answers, at their core, will always be the same, because I believe that Love is always the right answer.

“God is love.”

1 John 4:8

Screaming In Faith

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There was a parking lot on the edge of campus right along the main bike and walking paths, across from the Student Resource Building (SRB), that my friends and I used to skate down. We’d take the elevator to the top, longboards in hand, and see how much speed we could get coming down. My last year at school I found another really great use for the structure.

When I came back from my final trip to Turkey (I had gone four times throughout college), several things happened all at once that sunk me into a depression. For the longest time I didn’t realize it was depression, I just felt numb, and sad, and lonely, and my heart just kind of ached. It was actually really confusing, especially since I’m such a fixer and I couldn’t figure out what to do to fix it.

A guy I knew was going through depression, and we were talking one day with a couple other people, and as he talked about it I thought, “Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. Maybe I’m depressed.” So I listened to the ways he was processing it and existing through it, and I began doing some of those things.

They included writing and conversations with others and long walks and going to the gym, but one of the most conflicting things I did happened on the top level of the SRB parking lot.

It started with a walk by myself, which took me all over campus and on the beach, and I stopped at the parking lot before I headed home. I didn’t know why, but I just wanted some space and at least a few minutes where I probably wouldn’t run into other people.

I sat up there and started talking to God, laying out all of my feelings and frustrations and hurts and confusion. At the core of me I had some really big doubts about my faith and my relationship with God and what he actually thought about me, and these things were eating away at me. Not only was it hard to feel so out of control, but it was also scary not knowing if everything I had given my life to was going to be upended by the answers I got (or didn’t get) from God.

I was so worked up and feeling so many painful emotions that I ended up screaming a cuss word at the top of my lungs. Tears began running down my face, and with every intention of being heard by someone somewhere, whether it was God or not, I let the profanities fly.

They weren’t personally directed at God, but I wanted him to hear it. I wanted him to know the level of pain and despair I felt. I wanted him to know I felt lost and alone. I wanted him to know I was angry, knowing he could fix it all with a flick of his wrist and yet there I was, suffering. I wanted him to see my tears and feel the heat in my face and wrestle with the strain in my vocal cords.

Once I had totally exhausted myself I fell into a heap on the ground, curled up and wiping snot and salty tears from my face. And I realized my heart felt a little emptier, which was so welcome because it was constantly full of uncomfortable emotions. My shoulders relaxed a bit, and I walked home with a little bit of breathing room.

I did this again a couple more times, appreciating the cathartic quality of the experience, while also continuing those other practices to try and move forward out of the fog of depression. And I did make it out, after a time.

I’ve become convinced that those rage sessions on the top of the SRB parking lot probably showed, far more than any easy or light or productive season, the most faith I’ve ever had. I tested my faith that God already knew what was in my heart and could handle the audible expression of it. I tested my faith that I could be honest, not perfect, with God. I tested my faith that stubbornly put my emotions in front of God and pleaded with him to deal with them. I tested my faith that I couldn’t scare him off by misbehaving. I tested my faith that he could not only hear me, but was listening.

He was.