Jared Wilson on the “deceptive complexity” of Galatians 2:17.
Why is it that so many are completely against an artist using their creative and religious freedom to refuse to participate in a same-sex wedding, while they simultaneously celebrate the artist that refuses, on principle, to perform in a state in which there is legislation that goes against his deeply held beliefs?
For years I’ve struggled with a sinking sense of inadequacy.
This usually plays out in a disposition of deference: Why would I speak up when others could? Why should I teach a class when others are more capable? Why would I take that position when others are more worthy of it? Whether speaking, acting, or receiving, I let others go first. The self-designated (six-foot-six) runt among the litter.
Christians have spilled a lot of ink attempting to discern how we can know and do the will of God. Like many others, I have written about this often, including a little series called How To Know the Will of God. Today, though, I want to turn our attention to something that is related but a little bit different. I want to ask how Christians are to relate to the will of God. God has made his will known, so how are Christians to respond?
The struggles associated with pastoral ministry are well documented. It’s a hard job. There is ample discouragement. Pastors know this going in and learn it first hand as we serve. Here I don’t want to point out what we already know as much something that may be less obvious.
Ministry doesn’t need to be as discouraging as you may be letting it be.
I have two undergraduate degrees. I also have a nutrition specialist certification, and I’m a former certified personal trainer. I’m working on a MDiv (Master of Divinity) right now. I’ve probably done more schooling than I ever wanted to and, as a result, have had to learn how to study well. How do I study?
A favorite from the archives:
There are a lot of embarrassing things that can happen when you’re preaching. One time, and this was one of my earliest preaching opportunities, I completely blanked out. It was as though my entire vocabulary was lost, and I just stood there for what seemed like at least 15 seconds (which is a really long time to be silent when you think about it). Another time, I preached one of the worst messages of my life at a friend’s church. The entire thing was a scattered mess, and I felt like I wanted to die (especially when people were offering polite compliments).
There are some things I haven’t done, thankfully. (At least, not yet; there’s still time.) But you know what I expect would be really embarrassing? Being invited back to a church and preaching a message you’ve already shared.