I'm Biased

I'm not objective when it comes to Pathfinder.

It's one of the best things we do at Good Shepherd, and I say that because I've been involved with it as a participant.

Pathfinder is our easy on-ramp to group life at this church. It's where community begins. It makes a big church feel small. You get the picture.

Our fall launch for Pathfinder groups is tonight at 7 p.m. There's still room to sign up, and child care is provided.

By the time the evening is finished, dozens of Good Shepherd people will have made new connections and friendships and they'll be anchored into a small group for the next six weeks. And what happens when those groups meet?

Well . . . it's not Bible study, though there is spiritual conversation, usually based on that week's sermon. It's not an accountability group, though people do pray for one another. It's not group therapy, though I've seen some amazingly therapeutic things happen in it.

To know exactly what happens, come out tonight at 7. You can pre-register here. There are a lot of you I want to get to know better, and I believe Pathfinder is the best way to make that happen.

The One Point Sermon

This past week, I received an email from someone who attended Good Shepherd for a season and then had to move to another part of the country.

Anyway, part of his email said that he and his family still remember and use the phrase "forgiveness is learned, so teach it well." It's a phrase I used in a sermon in 2006.

In fact, it was the one point from the very first one point sermon I ever delivered.

And by including it in his email -- sent three years later from over 1,000 miles away -- he demonstrated the power of the one point sermon.

See, for years I gave sermons that had three or four main ideas. We included a fill-in-the-blank outline. It's the way the majority of pastors prepare and deliver messages.

But I've never had someone send an email three years after the fact saying "hey, Talbot, I still remember those three points that all began with the letter P!" Never.

In 2006, I read Andy Stanley's Communicating For A Change and its simple logic gripped me. So I began the often arduous process of winnowing several main ideas into the one idea that must be preached -- and then crafting the best way to say it.

That sermon-from-the-email back in 2006 came from the Jacob-Esau reunion story in Genesis 33, and focused on the impact it must have had on young Joseph. Previously, I would have preached that passage and gleaned a four-step process for forgiveness. That time, I narrowed it down to one: Forgiveness is learned, so teach it well.

Yesterday's talk from James 2:1-9 focused on this: The favorites you play, play you.

The previous Sunday from James 2:14-26: Do something for nothing.

The final message in the Piece Of Work series: Your impact is greater than your memory.

From Psalm 23:5-6 in the Still series: God is a people chaser.

You get the idea. My prayer is that these sentences/phrases/truths will implant deeply in people's minds, thereby shaping their lives Monday through Saturday.

Because you can remember and live one thing much better than four things.

Rich Man, Poor Man

I like giving messages in which I know there are a couple of "I can't believe I'm gonna say this but I'm gonna say it anyway!" moments.

Week Three of Rubber, Meet Road has those moments.

It's called Rich Man, Poor Man and to get ready for it, read James 2:1-9.

And then help me say those things I have to say.

Sunday. 8:30. 10. 11:30.

Ministry Happens

I don't know if I heard it somewhere or thought of it myself (probably the former, hopefully the latter), but in any event I wrote it down:

Ministry happens when your fear of disappointing God is greater than your fear of disappointing people.

Whew.

As a recovering "people pleaser," that thought is compelling. And challenging.

People are visible. God is invisible. People are clamoring. God is whispering. People threaten. God promises.

But we're all headed toward a one-on-one encounter with our Creator. He's the one whose voice and will need to ring loudest and strongest in my life.

Is ministry happening where you are?

I Learned How To Read In Seminary

With all due respect to my mother who taught me to read when I was four or five, and with apologies to my undergraduate degree in English, I really did learn how to read in seminary.

As in close reading. As in learning to observe what's going on in a piece of literature before trying to figure what it means.

In short, I learned in seminary that how a piece is written is a large part of what it is saying.

For that learned skill, I have Robert Traina's classic book Methodical Bible Study to thank.

Little known outside that sometimes insular world of Asbury Seminary, Traina's work spells out the structural elements vital to any written work: contrast, causation, cruciality, interrogation, repetition, particularization and much more.

So we learned how to read sections of Scripture by first paying attention to the structural laws at work. By looking at how the author put the words together . . . which usually opens up what that author is saying.

Twenty-two years after my first exposure to Methodical Bible Study, I'm still using its principles when I study passages to prepare my messages. It has been especially helpful in picking apart the book of James for the Rubber, Meet Road series.

So check out Methodical Bible Study. Perhaps you can learn how to read without ever going to seminary.

Scheduling The Unscheduled

If you're like me, you like things to run on schedule.

Trains, planes, automobiles . . . and work weeks.

In fact, I typically like to do the same things on the same days each week. So most weeks look a lot like the ones that came before and like the ones to follow.

Maybe you're the same way.

Yet I have found that some of the most important moments in ministry are unscheduled.

Like when you're visiting one family at the hospital and discover someone else is there as well.

Or the person who just "drops by" to say "hi" . . . but usually has something weighing heavily on his mind.

Or the random comment someone else says that you know has the seeds of a sermon in it.

Or simply the time to pause, open your palms to heaven and listen to what the Spirit is saying to the church.

So if you're like me and you like schedules, perhaps it's time to schedule the unscheduled into your life.

Faith Without Works Is Dead

We showed this yesterday to hammer home the idea that "faith without works is dead":



Fun to make, more fun to play on Sunday.

Thanks to Sonic for their inspiration.

And to WHAM for their timeless music . . .

Some People Think This Shouldn't Be In The Bible

Martin Luther's influence on Christianity is profound. And complex.

As a German pastor and theologian of the 16th Century, he re-discovered St. Paul's doctrine of salvation by grace through faith, based on passages like Ephesians 2:8-9.

He courageously stood up against the corruption of the state church.

He is regarded as the father of the Protestant reformation. Without Luther, for all practical purposes, there would be no Lutherans (obviously), Presbyterians, Baptist, or even Methodists.

Yet he also held highly objectionable and deeply offensive views of the Jews.

And he most definitely did not like the book of James, the subject of our series, Rubber, Meet Road.

I guess you could say that Luther liked Jesus, just not everyone in his family.

Luther's work has served to cast James and Paul as enemies and faith and works as contrasts. His influence has assured that James' theology is regarded as inferior to Paul's.

So Sunday's message will deal with the objections people raise to James. And then it will reach a highly practical and somewhat unexpected conclusion.

To prepare, read James 2:14-26.

Sunday. 8:30. 10:00. 11:30.

Growing Big People

Many years ago, Jack Hayford said this to a group of pastors in a conference I attended: "Don't worry so much about growing a big church. Grow big people, and the church will take care of itself."

Obviously, Dr. Hayford was not referring to body mass index.

He was speaking of people who are so caught by the Holy Spirit that they are able to live for something bigger than themselves.

So what does a "big person" look like? What kind of people do we want to "grow" at Good Shepherd?

A "big person" is someone who . . .

• Worships with enthusiasm
• Serves with eagerness
• Grows in their knowledge of Scripture and Christian teaching
• Consciously crosses boundaries of race and class in developing relationships
• Tithes
• Seeks the power of the Holy Spirit . . . even when that power comes in unexpected ways
• Tips well
• Treats people in the home with the same kindness as those in the church.

Have I left anything out?

Jack Kramer, 1921 - 2009

In the middle of the news of the death of Patrick Swayze and Jody Powell, as well as the antics of various tennis players like Serena Williams, one event barely registered a blip on the media radar screen: the passing of Jack Kramer.

Kramer won Wimbledon in 1947 and the U.S. Championships in 1946 and 1947 before turning pro in an era in which that meant a player could no longer compete in those international events. Upon his retirement, he was widely regarded as one of the five or six greatest players who ever lived.

Kramer was one of the inventors of what was called the "Big Game," meaning that he followed all his serves into the net area to win points with his volley. His first serve, first volley, and forehand approach shot down-the-line (to his opponent's backhand) were legendary.

But Kramer's most enduring legacy has little to do with what he actually did on the court.

It has to do instead with the racket that bears his name: the Wilson Jack Kramer Autograph.

Anyone who played tennis in the 60s and 70s used a "Kramer" at some point in their career.

I learned to play the game using a Kramer when I was 7, foolishly abandoned them at 10, and then returned to the fold at 16 and not coincidentally played the best tennis of my life at 17.

With the advent of graphite rackets with larger heads, the Kramer slowly but surely fell out of style before being taken off the market altogether in the mid-1980s. I still remember just how good a new Kramer racket felt in my hands, especially when it was strung tight with VS gut.

Even today, I have two frames in my closet for old time's sake.

The irony about the new, larger head rackets is this: when they first came out (1979-80), we all thought they would bring players' net games to new heights. I remember thinking, "I can never hit the ball past that guy at the net; his racket is huge!"

The reverse has happened. Because large headed rackets have a much greater hitting surface, and because the new composite materials are so strong, these days players' groundstrokes are unbeatable. Those who are brave enough to venture into the forecourt find themselves lunging helplessly as the topspin-laden ball whizzes past them.

So just as Jack Kramer's signature racket was rendered obsolete by technology, so did the very way he played the game.

Too bad on both counts.

Art. Flow. Teaching.

So here's how the service went yesterday as we began the series Rubber Meet Road.

After an energetic time of congregational singing -- with a praise set featuring a song written by our very own Chris Macedo -- we showed this home-grown video:



We followed that immediately with a nice version of "If I Could Be Like That" by Three Doors Down.

Next came my message, which focused on the theme of "envy" from James 3:13 - 4:10.

So: a video that combines both "rubber" and "envy," a song from the culture that speaks poignantly about how envy minimizes us, and then a teaching which noted that people in James' day called envy the "ulcer of the soul."

It was our hope that the artistic elements of video and music would support the biblical teaching which followed. I think we got this flow pretty close to "right."

That's why we do what we do.

Rubber Meets Road Launch

Some of my favorite series are those in which we drill down on one book of the bible for several weeks at a time, mining that book for all the treasures it contains.

In the past, we've done that with Philippians, Ecclesiastes, and Jeremiah, among others.

This time it's the New Testament book of James.

Along with Proverbs, James is among the most practical books in all of Scripture. It doesn't deal at length with theology, christology, soteriology, psychology or any other ology you can think of.

Instead, it looks at what happens at the intersection of faith and life.

In other words, where the rubber meets the road.

So that's the series: Rubber, Meet Road.

To get ready for the first message, a sermon called "Frenemies," read James 3:13 - 4:10.

Why would I start a series on a book in the middle of a book?

Come Sunday and you'll see.

You'll also see what we have in the lobby. I can't tell you that yet.

What Country Music Teaches Me About Preaching

Have you ever noticed that you can see a good country music song while you are hearing it?

I'm only an occasional fan of that genre, but I continue to be impressed by the word pictures most country songs make. Whether it is Carrie Underwood's vivid description of ruining her boyfriend's car in Before He Cheats or the masterful turns of phrase in Kenny Chesney's There Goes My Life, country songs are the most visual of any popular music.

Perhaps the most representative is Brooks & Dunn's Red Dirt Road:

"Red Dirt Road"

I was raised off of old Route 3
Out past where the blacktop ends
We'd walked to church on Sunday morning
Race barefoot back to the Johnson's fence
That's where I first saw Mary
On that roadside pickin' blackberries
That summer I turned a corner in my soul
Down that red dirt road

It's where I drank my first beer
It's where I found Jesus
Where I wrecked my first car
I tore it all to pieces
I learned the path to heaven is full of sinners and believers
Learned that happiness on earth ain't just for high achievers
I've learned I've come to know
There's life at both ends
Of that red dirt road

Her daddy didn't like me much
With my shackled up GTO
I'd sneak out in the middle of the night
Throw rocks at her bedroom window
We'd turn out the headlights
Drive by the moonlight
Talk about what the future might hold
Down a red dirt road

I went out into the world, and I came back in
I lost Mary, oh I got her back again
And driving home tonight feels like I've found a long lost friend

Notice all the nouns? The red dirt road itself, the church, the blackberries, the young girl Mary, the beer, the Pontiac GTO. You don't just hear the song; you see it as well.

So what does that have to do with preaching? Everything.

A good sermon, I believe, is not something people merely hear. They see it. A good sermon is full of concrete language, vivid descriptions, and word pictures that involve multiple senses. Such messages engage people's minds and involve practical, daily application.

So preachers: prepare and deliver sermons the people in the church can see.

And worshippers: watch for the message your pastor delivers this Sunday.

Just like country music.

Feed Your Head

We are so proud of our Passage School Of Theology at Good Shepherd.

It is our attempt to make sure that the church is not only large but deep. We want to give the people of the congregation all the resources they need to stretch their minds, deepen their commitment, and grow their faith. We work hard to make sure the semester-based classes in Passage have quality content so that the people of Good Shepherd become strong in their knowledge of Scripture and of historic Christian teaching.

Here are the classes we're offering this semester, starting next Sunday, September 13:


Sunday Classes at 10 am:

New Testament Study - 1 Peter
Old Testament Study - Exodus
Gifts of the Holy Spirit

Wednesday Classes at 6:30 pm:

Financial Peace University
GriefShare
DivorceCare
Bible for the Rest of Us
Love & Respect - Women’s Bible Study
First Step

Thursday Class at 10:00 am:

Invitation to the Psalms

You can sign up for the Passage class that best suits you here.

Rhythms Of Ministry

Last week provided an interesting case study in the rhythms of life in ministry.

Monday-Wednesday: I spent the first half of the week at a conference for pastors of the largest United Methodist churches in the country. We stayed in luxury. We re-connected with old friends and made new ones. We talked about ministry in the local churches. We didn't do any of that ministry, mind you, we merely talked about it. And as I soaked up the wisdom of pastoral leaders who have had greater numerical effectiveness than I have, it seemed that there are two elements to being a good pastor in the 21st Century: 1) come up with really good ideas for sermons series; and 2) start satellite campuses for your church.
The conference was so enjoyable that it was tempting to make it last longer. But remember . . . we simply talked about ministry without actually engaging in it.

Wednesday night - Sunday: Reality hit as soon as we arrived home from Charlotte. Voice mails and answering machine messages all letting us know there had been an unexpected death of a young man connected to the church. Immediately, I had to change from "conference" mode to "grief" mode. Then the young man's father died two days later -- not an unexpected death, but a terrible blow on top of a terrible blow. Then there were several difficult counseling sessions, an appointment with a family to deal with some custody issues, and grief visits to another family who had suffered a loss. And I couldn't forget the dear Good Shepherd people in the hospital. On top of all that, we hosted Olympic High School's Overtime program on Friday night. So: counseling, refereeing, funeral preparing, praying, resting. No time to talk about ministry; high time to engage in it.

Seldom have I had a week with such extremes. It is tempting -- even seductive -- to stay in conference mode permanently. It is a calling -- a high one at that -- to return to local pastor mode and stay there.

Reflections On 100 Pastors

On Monday, I posted about my attendance at The Leading Edge, a gathering of the pastors of the 100 largest United Methodist churches in the United States based on average worship attendance.

A benefactor underwrote most of the cost of the meeting, so we were able to stay at a gorgeous resort near Jacksonville, Florida while incurring very little cost ourselves.

Some random reflections:

• It is funny to me how most of us never really get out of high school in terms of making friends and joining groups. The pastors there generally hung out with other pastors of churches the same size. So the 3,000s-on-a-Sunday had one kind of camaraderie, the 2000s-on-a-Sunday had a different kind, and those of us slogging it out at 1500 or so had another. I admit it: I was much more comfortable with a group of "peers" than with trying to impress someone with a really big church and a bigger name. Human nature, I guess, but it was still a hoot to watch and be part of.
• While we were listening to Adam Hamilton say something that was yet again filled with wisdom and insight, one of my table mates turned to me and said, "You know, I believe that if Jesus himself was in the back of the room hearing this, even he'd be impressed."
• An inordinate percentage of these largest United Methodist churches were from three places: Houston and its suburbs; Atlanta and its suburbs; and Florida. Yet some of the very, very largest congregations are in the Midwest: Kansas City, South Bend, Indiana, and central Ohio.
• Mecklenburg County has four churches on the list: Matthews UMC, Davidson UMC, Myers Park UMC, and Good Shepherd.
• A majority of the churches represented in Ponte Vedra offer contemporary worship as their primary style on Sunday mornings.
• There is great momentum among this group of pastors for a denomination-wide moratorium on voting & politicking around the volatile issue of homosexuality. The group would be delighted in a General Conference in 2012 that focused on worship and strategy rather than the most divisive issue of them all.
• I continue to realize what a privilege it is to serve the people of Good Shepherd and the community of southwest Charlotte.

Pain Revealing Beauty

This past Sunday during the Piece Of Work series, we talked about how God brings pain to reveal beauty.

I have a friend who had beauty revealed by the pain she endured. Here's her story, which we showed at the conclusion of my sermon:




I like how the video turned testimony into art.

I also like how Melissa was courageous enough to bring blessing to the church.

U.S. Open Memories & Prevenient Grace

Back in July, I posted that Wimbledon is the most wonderful time of the year.

Actually, it's the U.S. Open instead. The surroundings aren't as picturesque, but there's no trans-Atlantic time change to wrestle with.

Plus, hard courts are a truer test of greatness than grass. Or clay.

But with the U.S. Open in the middle of its first week, it makes me think of the two years in the mid 1980s when I worked for the US Tennis Association, the organization that runs the tournament. My title was "Coordinator of Recreational Tennis," which meant that I was to work with parks and community centers to get tennis programs going in new venues. Our office was in Princeton, New Jersey.

As it turned out, the best part of my job back then was getting tennis accepted as an official sport with the Special Olympics International. I actually helped write a guide book on how to teach tennis to Special Olympians. Several years later, when I was serving as a pastor in Monroe, NC, I volunteered to teach Special Olympics tennis. The volunteer coordinator said, "Great! Here's a guide book that will show you how to do it!" It was the one I'd written!)

Something else about my job with the USTA: it helped me sense a call into ministry. In my position, I learned how to manage projects, keep files, and organize events. They don't teach any of that in college! I realized in 1987 that those skills I'd learned at the USTA would be essential in any kind of church work. That realization, along with some other things God was doing in my life at the time, led me to Asbury Seminary and ultimately to parish ministry.

So God was working in my life all along, even in ways I didn't expect.

We Methodists call it "prevenient grace" -- the grace that goes before. Look for it. It's all around you.

Polarizing Effectiveness

A couple of years ago, Guy Kawasaki, former Apple executive and current venture capitalist, told some of the leaders of Good Shepherd: "It's good to polarize people."

Those are scary words to hear.

Pastors and church leaders naturally want to comfort people, not polarize them.

But Kawasaki's next line put it all in perspective: "Mediocrity comes from trying to please everyone."

Wow.

So we've slowly but surely tried to move away from mediocrity and towards effectiveness. To get there involves . . .

• Not asking the question, "but who will this make mad?" quite as often;
• Remembering that we have the goal of "de-weirding" Christianity to a world that all-too-often sees us as judgmental and out of touch;
• Reminding each other that people matter to God, especially ones "missing" from him;
• Honoring the adrenaline rush that comes from saying or singing or projecting something unexpected and provocative;
• Showing extravagant love to those people who have been with Good Shepherd forever and stick with it even when it stretches them. I think many of them would rather be part of a church that is alive yet uncomfortable than a church that is predictable but dying.
• Celebrating all the new people who say, "I can't believe you all did that in church . . . and that's why I'm coming back."

So whatever your venue of ministry, you can polarize your way towards greater effectiveness.