Fuel for the Fight Against Sexual Immorality

Sexual temptation holds a specific place in the realm of sins. Jesus equates lust—a numbingly "simple" sin in the eyes of man—to adultery (Matt. 5:28), a crime punishable by death under the Jewish law. Paul commands us to flee from it (1 Cor. 6:18), and he says that it must not even be named among believers (Eph. 5:3). Paul lists sexual immorality among the "works of the flesh" in Galatians 5:19-20, and Romans 1:24-25 is certainly not an easy read for the hyper-sexual.

Pornography has deceived the Church. She has masked herself with blockbuster films and "Incognito mode" on our internet browsers. Lust has become an attitude, a demeanor, more than it has an act of sin. Ask any man what his three most-frequented sins are and I am positive that some form of sexual sin will be on the list, if not number one every time. She is a dangerous dance partner to have.

This problem is not exclusively plaguing men. Women, too, often find themselves forsaking their godly character, sacrificing piety for pleasure, giving their bodies over to be used instead of respected creations in the image of our Creator. Women are guilted into slowly inching their way to the "edge" of sexual boundaries. The biblical image of male headship and female submission are sin-sickfully abused, taken out of their right context, and completely redefined by sexual desires and hormone levels.

What I do not have is a solution. This is a problem that the Church needs to work out, locally and collectively.

I have found some ammunition to help get you through this week, though. In John Piper and Wayne Grudem's Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, Piper writes, "We will always have mountains of truly human Christ-likeness yet to climb, but sexual intercourse is not one of them. For He never knew it. And He is infinitely whole." This quote comes in the middle of an introduction explaining why the monumental work is important for the single and married alike.

And Piper is right. Singles far too often see their libido as a biological craving that deserves to be fulfilled. Singles tell themselves that, since they don't have a marriage partner to fill the (non-existant) gap in their nature, they are granted a free pass to look at porn just one more time or hook up with that girl for a final night of fleshly passions. But that simply cannot be the case.

Let me straighten this out: sexual desire is good. Sexual desire and physical attraction are good things that were put here for their proper, God-glorify, earth-multiplying purpose. But it is not a missing hole in the biology of a person without sexual satisfaction. Jesus Christ—the Only Whole One, the sinless Savior, the Visible Image of the invisible God—did not need sex to remain whole. The fullness of God incarnate did not need sex to be fulfilled, to be the perfect sacrifice.

This sounds silly, but think about it! Becoming more like Christ does not require you to hurdle or overcome your sexual desires but instead allows you to completely bypass them! 

So, as you exhaust yourself, one battle of temptation to the next, remember this: if the Son of Man— the pinnacle of human perfection and the standard for godliness—came to die, and He didn't need sex to be completely whole, then you probably don't either.

Disciples Underfoot

Sometimes we need a few minutes to ourselves. But those minutes are fewer and farther between once you have kids. Suddenly, those quiet moments spent with your wife, spent in spiritual devotion, or even just using the bathroom are invaded by a million little demands and concerns. “Daddy, can you help me?” “Daddy, can you do this?” “Daddy, can I ask you something?” Being the father of two little girls is time consuming. But that is the nature of fatherhood. Hopefully someone told you before you had kids that parenthood is servanthood; and if they didn’t, I’m pretty sure you found out really quickly. Being a parent necessitates having kids “underfoot” all the time. And being a spiritual parent is no different.

In his classic The Master Plan of Evangelism, Robert Coleman points out that Jesus and his disciples were in near constant contact during the years of His earthly ministry. Jesus lived, ate, traveled, and worshipped with the twelve disciples at His side. He spent nearly every waking moment with them. In the week of His passion the disciples are never more than a stone’s throw away, even during his prayer in Gethsemane, right up to His arrest.

I know this must have been trying on Jesus. Like all of us, Jesus needed times of rest, prayer, and quiet communion with the Father. He needed time alone. “But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray.” (Luke 5:16) Yet many times that quiet was interrupted by the needs of the spiritual children He had gathered around Himself (Mark 6:30-33, 46-48, Luke 11:1). However, Jesus knew, and we must learn, that that is simply the nature of parenthood; spiritual or otherwise.

The church often talks about “doing life together.” But “doing life” means imposition. It means our spiritual children are going to infringe on our personal time, the same way our biological children do. That is not convenient, but there is no other way to do discipleship the way Jesus did. An assigned class or a designated meeting time can be fruitful, but to expect those limited encounters to develop fully functional disciples is unrealistic.  

My fear is that that is exactly why we as Christians, and especially as men, are reticent to enter into discipleship relationships. We know it will be costly. We know it will be an imposition. As our society grows increasingly individualistic, we recede from the communal bonds of neighbor, family, and friend. “I don’t want to be imposed on! I want to be left alone.” The truth is we value our freedom and convenience more than we value Christ’s commission to “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations…” (Matt 28:19).

Within the last month, I had a single night when I received two 3 A.M. calls about to two unrelated personal emergencies. The callers were people I have discipling relationships with. In all honesty, my typical reaction might have been annoyance, but by God’s grace it wasn’t this time. My first thought was “I’m glad they called me. I’m glad we are close enough that they would bring their problems, which were not insignificant, to me at that hour.” Sadly, I can count on one hand the number of non-family members who I would impose on in that way - with fingers to spare. I want my daughters to share their joys, struggles, crises with me, and I want my spiritual sons to do the same.

Discipling is work. In fact, I don’t think it is unfair to say that it is near all-consuming work, much like parenthood. But that is our mission. We need men and women who are willing to do the inconvenient work of bringing new and growing Christians under their wings and into their lives. We should make time for rest and quiet, but we should also expect that quiet to be interrupted. Disciples are going to be “underfoot”. That’s what you signed on for when you answered the call of Christ. If you wanted uninterrupted quiet, you should have been a Buddhist. 

Pressing into the Glorious Future: The Certainty of the Promises of God

“One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the lord and to inquire in his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock. And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord.”

Psalm 27:4-6 (ESV)

One of my favorite sermons by Jonathan Edwards is titled, “Pressing Into the Kingdom of God” (from which I adopted the wording of my title). In its introduction, Edwards speaks of Psalm 27:4, pointing out that the verse demonstrates both strength of desire and strength of resolution. The psalmist’s eternal heavenly rest is the one thing that he asks of the Lord and the one thing that he seeks. Edwards then makes the argument that both of these strengths are essential to our “pressing” into God’s Kingdom.

All week, I have been reflecting on the grand jury’s decision against indicting Officer Darren Wilson, the police officer who fatally shot 18-year-old Michael Brown in August. It has been hard to avoid the subject, to be honest. The night the decision was announced, there were riots—physically on the ground in Ferguson, MO and all over social media timelines across the world. The Ferguson predicament has certainly become something much larger than any of us could have anticipated. I’m sure Officer Wilson was not picturing car lots being set on fire as he pulled the trigger on August 9th.

As the son of a police officer, I have particularly struggled with some of the comments I have been reading. Though I concede that many of these remarks have come from people who offer no kind of Socratic good to the discussion, it gets a little exhausting hearing people make blanket statements about cops and race—especially white cops and black suspects. What I am not trying to do in this is state, argue, or convince you that Wilson was right or wrong. You can do a quick Google search and find all of the documentation of the evidence/testimonies that the grand jury deliberated over and form your own opinion on the case.

In a world filled with uneasiness, racial tension, and (most of all) uncertainty, I want to bring to the table something that is, and always will be, certain. While Twitter activists and media outlets encourage mob-like questioning from both sides of the argument, I want to show you that there is an answer for injustice.

It is truly amazing how applicable the Word and the theology that we interpret from it can be to our worldview. In the case of Michael Brown, I made a decision to press into the glorious future we have in the promises of God. Whether just or unjust, the life of a young man has been lost. Whether or not Brown was innocently surrendering or he was charging at Officer Darren Wilson, what has happened did, in fact, happen. Whether Wilson goes punished or unpunished, there will be a gaping wound for many Americans—black or white, majority or minority, entitled or poverty-stricken.

I want to turn our attention now to Joel 3.

“So you shall know that I am the Lord your God, who dwells in Zion, my holy mountain. And Jerusalem shall be holy, and strangers shall never again pass through it. And in that day the mountains shall drip sweet wine, and the hills shall flow with milk, and all the streambeds of Judah shall flow with water; and a fountain shall come forth from the house of the Lord and water from the Valley of Shittim. Egypt shall become a desolation and Edom a desolate wilderness, for the violence done to the people of Judah, because they have shed their blood in their land. But Judah shall be inhabited forever, and Jerusalem to all generation. I will avenge their blood, blood I have not avenged, for the Lord dwells in Zion.”

Joel 3:17-21 (ESV)

I want to charge each and every one of you reading this—each and every one of you social media activists and bloggers: You are all human. You were made in the image of the Almighty God—the God of justice—and because of that, you should desire justice as He does. It is part of pressing into the glorious future.

That “strength of desire” that Jonathan Edwards spoke of some 200-something years ago still rings true for us today; however, I have come to think that the “strength of resolution” no longer belongs to us. As prophesied in Joel, the Fountain has come forth. This Fountain has been opened specifically for the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem for the cleansing of their sin and uncleanness (Zech. 13:1). As Matthew Henry writes of Isaiah 55:1-15, “Come to Christ, for he is the Fountain opened, he is the Rock smitten.” As Edwards bade us to do, press into the Kingdom of God, and in doing so, you will press into the promises of future glory won for us by Christ on the cross.

A case like the one in Ferguson, Missouri, invokes a picture of Christus Victor. While I cannot stand up for all of the views usually associated with Christus Victor, Scripture speaks of Christ humbly dying and through this act of submission to the will of the Father, rising to conquer the power of death (1 Cor. 15:54-57). In this sense, Christ is victorious. Too many times, we separate Christ’s victory from his death, associating it only with the resurrection. Christ’s death was a victory. With his death, he secures His sheep. This is certainly a victory.

Maybe I’m writing in circles here.

What I really just want to say is this: As Christians, we should be seeking out justice. I would never condone injustice or inequality, especially for the sake of white privilege—this coming from a suburban college student. The Bible does not condone these things; in fact, Scripture commands Christians to stand up for those subject to injustice, for they are the spiritually needy and poor (Prov. 31:8-9). But as you’re standing up for these people, don’t forget that the Fountain has been opened. Christ’s sacrifice was not in vain, and if we fail to trust in God the Justifier, then we disarm the power of the death of Christ (Rom. 3:26).

I have been praying over this situation. I have been praying for the family of Michael Brown, that they might find closure and peace in this troubling and infuriating time. I have been praying for Officer Darren Wilson and his family, that they would remain unharmed and that maybe life could return somewhat close to normal. I have been praying for the hearts of the protesters, that they might be softened and that they would act in peace instead of violence. I have been praying for blacks and whites alike, that the discrimination both socially and emotionally would be filled with the love of Christ.

But most of all, I have been praying for God to sovereignly work, that he might use the events in Ferguson for His glory and our good so that we might, in response, press into the glorious future of God’s certain promises.

Ferguson on the Trinity and Atonement

 "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith." — Romans 3:23-25

Read what Sinclair B. Ferguson writes about the demonstration of the Trinity in atonement:

"Here, the God who puts forward is God the Father, the blood is that of God the incarnate Son, the faith is the fruit of God the Spirit's ministry. The unity and harmony of the three persons of the Trinity in both accomplishing and applying redemption are evident. In this complex of activity no wedge can be driven between the purpose of the Father, the atoning work of the Son, and the effective purposes of the Spirit without compromising the coherence of the Trinity. By contrast, any form of indefinite (universal) atonement short of absolute universalism in effect limits the efficacy of the Son's work and debilitates the power of the Spirit's ministry."

- Sinclair B. Ferguson, "'Blessed Assurance, Jesus is Mine'? Definite Atonement and the Cure of Souls"

In preparation for advent, I've been reading through Crossway's From Heaven He Came and Sought Her: Definite Atonement in Historical, Biblical, Theological, and Pastoral Perspective. This collection of essays celebrates the doctrine of definite (limited) atonement through various aspects of Christian living (as if the subtitle wasn't clear enough). I recommend trying to get your hands on a copy before Christmastime. Reading about the atoning work of Christ simply reminds me that we have every reason to revel in Christ's birth.

You can get your hands on a copy from Amazon for just under $40.00 right here. If that's a little too much money, it definitely makes a great gift for you (or someone else if you trust my word on what a great resource it is).

Here's the book trailer that Crossway made in promotion for From Heaven He Came and Sought Her. I hope you'll join me in reading about the magnificent work of Christ's blood.

Why I Don't Hate Snarky Calvinists Anymore

For a long time, I hated Calvinism.

I didn't have anything in particular against the doctrines themselves. To be honest, I knew hardly anything about what "being a Calvinist" meant. All I knew was that a few young guns who had passed through our church suddenly began labelling themselves as "Reformed" or "Calvinist", and their attitudes became pretty annoying. Everything turned into a debate with them, they acted pretty edgy (by Southern Baptist standards, at least), and I was honestly just put off by their incessant snark, especially about books and music. Sure, I liked some of those old hymns too, but there was nothing wrong with some of the catchy songs that newer worship bands and movements had been producing.

That was almost two years ago, and over the course of the last few years I have come to terms with a few things.

First off, I have come to terms with the sovereignty of God in all things, including the doctrine of salvation. I fought with it for a long time, studying Scripture, reading through multiple resources with many points of view, and talking with many people on both sides of the spectrum. I now realize the importance of nailing down these ideas—I was always one for saying that it simply didn't matter. The doctrines of grace have since propelled me to live full-throttle for the glory of the God who controls the universe. But like I said, coming to terms with these beliefs was not easy. What did it take, other than my study?

You guessed it: snarky Calvinists.

My big theological turning point came at CROSScon, a new missions conference. You can do your own research, but one of the goals of the conference was to demonstrate how God's sovereign hand in the redemption of sinners is central to missions and evangelism. As John Piper said in the opening session of the conference, adopting the language of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, "The chief end of missions is the supremacy of God in the joy all peoples."

Now, I'm not about to call John Piper snarky. He isn't the snarky one.

While in Louisville, I was rooming with a good friend and two guys I had just met a few weeks before. I was new to the ministry that had taken the trip to CROSScon, so I didn't really know many people in the group. If it wasn't for these snarky Calvinists being willing to tone it down for one weekend, taking the time to open the Word with me, I don't know where I would be in my walk with Christ. If it wasn't for these snarky Calvinists bearing with me as I unwound some of the presuppositions I had made about God from my early years as a Christian, I would have a harder time wringing out the endless, glorious grace of God.

So, snarky Calvinists, I do still get annoyed by you. God chose many others to serve the Kingdom alongside you, and being chosen doesn't give you bragging rights. You aren't being picked for heavenly kickball based on your exegetical skill or your fluency in Greek; you're being picked to lay down your life—and it is only by the grace of God that you are even considered worthy to do so. But I appreciate you, I'm thankful for you, and I've certainly come to terms with you. For me, the doctrines of grace have become a weight hung around my neck, pulling me deep into the sea of the Father's mercies and plumbing me into the bottomless depths of Christ's unsearchable riches.

And it's as if snarky Calvinists are the ones who put the weight around my neck for me.

Christians and Video Games

Christians are starting to pick on video games. I've heard pastors say that being a christian man means you don't play video games. I've heard people report that video games are addictive behavior and has no place in a Christians life. It's a medium of entertainment under attack, but attacking video games is not only unjustified, it's unnecessary.

The general arguments against video games is anecdotal at best. They are a detraction from real life; They are not edifying. We can't waste our precious minutes on video games that we could use for the mission of God. On a surface level, I can see why anyone would buy these arguments. These arguments, however, are absurd when carried out to their logical ends.

To really ask the questions, "should a christian play video games?" certain things should be first clarified. First, video games are not addictive. No altering of brain chemistry occurs when a person plays video games. People don't develop withdrawal symptoms from leaving video games for a lenth of time. Video games can, in fact, be overly obsessed over, but so can football and stamp collecting. No Christian believes obsessing and worshiping the material is OK.

Second, one has to ask what category of distraction do video games rest in. The simple answer to that is, video games are a game. Webster's Dictionary defines games as "a physical or mental activity or contest that has rules and that people do for pleasure." Video games easily fall under that definition. From here, it's simple to see how the anecdotal arguments of disgruntled and misguided Christians quickly decay.

If video games are bad because they distract from real life, so is every game. The argument would have to attack every medium of entertainment. And really, where would the appropriate level of distraction be drawn? For that matter, anything that could potentially be a distraction. (eating, having friends, sleeping, art, music, literature ect..) Concerning general life activities, the scripture says "So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." (1 Corinthians 10:31) Video games are not a topic like murder or lying; they are not in a branch of activities God warns us to keep from. They just fall under the "life" category. Our time would be better spend asking, "how can we be sure we approach this medium with God's glory in mind.

The edification argument breaks down too. Unless your willing to say that football, (watching and playing), reading novels, or other pastimes should be be left alone, you can't attack video games in general.

For those who say it's a waste of minutes we can use for missions, others may equally argue that it's a gateway to a new mission field. Gamer's (as they are called) make up a global community. It includes most demographics. This shows a wonderful example of why Christians are called to be in the world, but not of the world. Given that we are approaching video games in a Godly way, it gives avenues of communication to a wealth of lost souls. We can reach those Satan has trapped in a virtual world. Games are largely a social experience. Even single player games result in conversation and cooperation with a larger community. Properly engaging in the medium would let Christians be a light in yet another dark corner.

So we can scoff at video games like the Puritan did plays, or we can treat them for what they are: a part of life. Instead of tearing down believers that play video games, our time would be better spend edify those who wish to serve God in whatever aspect of life they find themselves in. We should be helping believers understand a healthy approach to video games. We should be enjoying this beautiful art of story telling and community that God has let us find. Though, as with anything material, we keep 1 John 2:15-17 in mind:

"Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever."

Avoiding Discouragement in Evangelism

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”

Matthew 28:19-20a

The Great Commission, huh? If you’ve been around the church long at all, you’re more than likely numb to these verses. But let’s presume you’re all lovely obedient followers of Christ, and you heed His call to go and make disciples. Even still, you probably see this task as unfeasible—and not even because you don’t have the willpower to go. You may choose to read your Bible in public, hoping it will strike up conversation. You may be discipling younger believers in your local church. You might have gone on a short-term mission trip to another country, or you might be serving long-term. No matter what capacity you are trying to win souls for Christ, you (more than likely) have felt discouragement over not seeing the fruit of your efforts.

Please, stop. It isn’t about you.

I’m not trying to act like your story of fruitlessness is less important than someone else’s, but I’ve probably met the king of discouragement. This past June, I took a trip to northern Italy. While there, I had the opportunity to serve alongside some of the most God-centered men that I have spent a decent amount of time with. One of the church planters I met there was named Larry. Larry has been serving in the Aosta, Italy area for almost two decades now, and told me that he has performed somewhere (and I may get the number wrong) around twenty baptisms. For almost every single year he has served, he has seen one person come to Christ. Like I said, I am assuming you’re lovely commandment-obeying followers of Christ, so you probably don’t think this is as disheartening as I do. That’s simply an insane number in my eyes. But Larry was not discouraged. He didn’t speak as if his labor was in vain. Instead, I think Larry understood a couple points about evangelism that I haven’t understood until recently.

1. The authority of Scripture is not ours.
If we are preaching God’s Word properly, we should realize that the words we speak aren’t actually our words at all. Right before the Great Commission, Christ speaks, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matt. 28:18). He doesn’t say some or most; all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Christ. We couldn’t even have authority if we tried.

2. The power of the Gospel is not ours.
Think about the lordship of Christ: If one chooses to not honor Christ as Lord, Christ is still powerful over him or her, though they may choose to hide themselves from His authority, or give themselves up to earthly authorities alone. The same can be said of the message of the Gospel. Though we labor, it is not our energy being wasted. It isn’t our energy at all; the Gospel does the work for us. The Gospel is powerful, and (as Matt Chandler writes about in chapter 4 of The Explicit Gospel) it demands a response, whether one of acceptance or rejection. The power isn't yours; it’s God’s.

3. The response of the calloused is not ours.
Frequently I find myself equating the negative response other people have to my sharing of the Gospel message to my own spiritual life. According to Romans 9:16, a repentant heart “depends not on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy.” There’s nothing we can do to draw one to repentance, for only the Father draws (John 6:44). We must make ourselves readily available for God to use as a means of winning souls, but we need not question ourselves when we don’t see repentance.

A Light to the Gentiles

Mass media is typically filled with all kinds of sensationalist headlines, soundbites, or rumors—things that news and journalism companies manipulate to turn into revenue. But every now and again, there is a world crisis that demands our attention...and right now it seems like that crisis is the terrorist group known around the world as ISIS, or the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria.

The global response to ISIS has been astounding, really. Awareness seemed to have been raised relatively quickly, and many Western countries are either taking action or preparing to take action against this group.

As Christians, however, our response has, well, disappointed me a little bit.

Don't get me wrong here; I believe there is a time and place for wartime efforts (a la Ecclesiastes 3:8), and what I'm not saying is that the steps we are putting in place to try to topple ISIS by force are wrong. I support them. I believe most of America supports them.
I would go as far as to argue that even the Bible would support just war. Look at Deuteronomy 20:1-4. Look to 1 Samuel 15:3 or Joshua 10:25. Sometimes action is necessary.

But I've been thinking about something concerning ISIS lately: Where are the prayers? Are we pleading to God for the souls of ISIS to be reconciled to God? Are we praying regularly that God might soften the hearts of these sinful people so that they too may be "a light to the Gentiles"?

Look at the conversion of Saul to Paul.
If he was around today, our news stations might be covering this ferocious, Christian-killing, powerful Jew. Saul could have been one of the FBI's top 10 most wanted terrorists, if he was given the technology that modern-day persecutors were.
But then God stepped into the picture. No longer did this man—now known as Paul—murder Christians. No longer did he have a heart that sought to commit heinous deeds; no! Instead, God intervened and radically changed the life of a dangerous man.

Just pause for a moment and imagine what kind of influence such a man might be for the Kingdom of God if a "Paul" arose out of ISIS. Imagine the people that may have never been reached with the Gospel taking off their masks and laying down their guns so that they can surrender to the call of Christ to take up their crosses and make His name known to all the nations of the earth. What a joyous occasion that would be!

Don't for one second think I'm being overly ambitious; to disqualify what I'm saying right here is to have a weak view of God. The same mouths that sing, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me!" cannot rightly shout, "Those peoples are beyond the grace of God!" in the same breath.

I'm not saying action physical, military, authoritative action should not be taken to combat ISIS. There are lives on the line. Innocent people—Children of God—are dying at the hands of these people. All I'm saying is that maybe we should pray for the souls of these lost people as we're gearing up.
The moment we forget the sovereignty of our God is the moment we become idolators, worshiping self. And if the Old Testament shows us anything, we should see that idolatry is never a battle plan that pleases God.

Five Things that Can (and Should) Affect Your Prayer Life

This year, I attended T4G for the first time. After hearing some of the most renowned preachers of this era, one sermon resonated with me the most: David Platt's 'Relenting Wrath: The Role of Desperate Prayer in the Mystery of Divine Providence'.

To quote Platt, "Prayer is a huge hole in the canvas of the Reformed resurgence."

I could not agree more, Pastor (or should I say President) Platt. But I don't only see the hole in the canvas of this movement; I see this hole in my own life. In the life of the church. Prayer isn't just lacking in Reformed circles. Prayer is missing. And we are missing it everywhere.

So many times, we start to "heap up empty phrases" as Jesus warns us not to do in Matthew 6:7.

But as I begin to examine how our Savior prays in the (ever-so-aptly-named) Lord's Prayer—the model we all seem to turn to for prayer—there are five places where the Church typically misses the mark:

We lack reverence in our prayers.
Since we are already there, look at the Lord's Prayer. "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name."

Jesus isn't asking for some kind of cosmic permission to make God holy. How many times do you approach God realizing who you are talking to? Read some of the characteristics about our God:

• 1 Chronicles 16:25 and Psalm 96:4 tells us of God's greatness and how He is to be "feared above all gods."
• In Ezekiel 36:23 God tells us of His own greatness.
• Psalm 136:4 tells us that He alone performs great wonders. 

The completely holy God of all creation is taking the time to listen to our human prayers. He loves us. On second thought, maybe I got the emphasis wrong on that. He loves us. It is absolutely incredible.

We lack reactivity to our prayers.

There is a tendency within the Church to forget to read Matthew 7:7 in its entirety. The verse says, "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you."

What this verse is not saying is that we can pray and the Lord will certainly fulfill any of our requests, as if God is some kind of wish-granting genie. This is no prosperity gospel. Instead, we are to ask, seek, and knock. We have to press our actions into our prayers and faithfully seek out to find God's answer to them.

We lack authority in our prayers.

Christ placed authority in His prayer. Matthew 6:11 has this phrase, "Give us this day our daily bread," which is better translated, "Give us our bread that is intended for tomorrow, today."

There's an underlying sense of promise and certainty that God will hold to that promise in those words. 

Gideon learned this lesson the hard way. In Judges 6:36-40, we see doubtful Gideon asking God for some kind of sign that he can believe in. God ends up showing Gideon twice that He is certainly at work and answering the prayer of Gideon. Shortly after, Gideon leads his army of men over the Midianites and over Zebah and Zalmunna.

We lack honesty in our prayers.

Still speaking in respect to prayer, Christ then moves from the Lord's Prayer to talking about fasting. In Matthew 6:17-18, Jesus tells the crowds that they should anoint their heads, so that the Father will "see" it.

Clearly, Christians will uphold the idea that God is omniscient, so why would He need to "see" this honesty in our prayer and fasting in order to honor it?

Perhaps I can't give you an answer, but Scripture seems to point to this idea: God does not  respond to a hardened heart. Be honest and soft-hearted in your prayers, for you have been commanded to do so.

We lack dependency in our prayers.

Coinciding with our lack of honesty is our lack of dependency.

I know that I routinely find myself trying to justify the state of my prayer life (perhaps to myself or to God) by saying that I have it together, and that I pray more than I realize. The words that are so sacred to the Jewish people, the "Shema" (Deut. 6:4-8), remind us that we need this dependency. We need to depend on Him as we go in and out of our homes. We need to depend on Him as we wake and as we sleep.

We have to depend on Him.

An Open Letter to Our Tech Savey Leaders (Whom We Love)

From a little Brother,

To the Elders,

Tell me what it’s like to be moved with compassion.  I know sympathy; teach me empathy.  Teach me what it's like to see a stranger, diseased and repulsive, and to not rest until he is made well.  Tell me what it’s like to be moved by them, to make their interest my own.  Teach me how to be ever content in Christ so I may forget my own woes and bear the burdens of my brothers. Model compassion for me out of compassion for me.

I read of the life of Christ and a fire burns in my bones.  I want to love like that! I know his compassion for me. I see how great of a dive it is to pull me from the depths of my grave I dug, and I am thankful.  I can’t replicate it.  When a mite of compassion sweeps through my veins and a love for my neighbor swells in my heart, I freeze.  I am cold.  Can I be taught to move?

I hear you teach theology and it calls to me.  The knowledge of God beckons me to love.  I revel in it! Don’t count me a one who rejects wisdom’s invitations.  I sit at the lowliest seat of her banquet, hoping to be pulled higher.  But brothers, do you draw for us a map to the heart of God and not expect us to go running towards it?  Have you seen yourself?  I know you have.  You must know how it feels to have great intent and weak pursuit.

What I’m trying to say to you (those of you with names on books, those of you who hold the nation's ear, who bear the face of evangelicals) is: I can be a jerk on twitter too.  That’s easy.  I need you, we need you, to help us with something hard.  So I beg you, like a child full of pure need, to have compassion and please, as James reminds us, to think before you tweet.