FACT: If your children can’t read by age four there is a 95% chance they will end up homeless and on drugs.
FACT: If your children eat any processed food there is an 85% chance they will contract a rare, most likely incurable disease, by age 12.
FACT: If you’re not up at dawn reading the Bible to your children, you are most likely a pagan caught in the clutches of witchcraft.
FACT: If your children watch more than 10 minutes of television a day there is 75% chance they will end up in a violent street gang by age 17.
Obviously, the “facts” listed above are not true (at least, I don’t think they are). But, I’ve noticed that the Internet has made it much easier for people, and moms in particular, to compare themselves to each other. Now, just to be clear, this is not a post against “mom blogs”, or whatever they’re called. If you write a mom blog, that’s cool with me. This is a post to encourage the moms who tend to freak out and feel like complete failures when they read the mom blogs and mom Facebook posts.
Moms, Jesus wants you to chill out about being a mom. You don’t have to make homemade bread to be a faithful mom. You don’t have to sew you children’s clothing to be a faithful mom. You don’t have to coupon, buy all organic produce, keep a journal, scrapbook, plant a garden, or make your own babyfood to be a faithful mom. There’s nothing wrong with these things, but they’re also not in your biblical job description.
Your job description is as follows:
Love God. This simply means finding some time during the day to meet with the Lord. It doesn’t have to be before all the kids are awake. It doesn’t have to be in the pre-dawn stillness. Your job is to love God. How you make that happen can look a million different ways.
Love your husband (unless you’re a single mom, of course). Your second job is to love and serve your husband. Husbands are to do the same for their wives, but that’s for a different post. If your husband really likes homemade bread, maybe you could make it for him. But don’t make homemade bread simply because you see other moms posting pictures of their homemade bread on Facebook.
Love your kids. Your calling as mom is to love your kids and teach them to follow the Lord. They don’t need to know Latin by age six. If they do, more power to you. But that’s a bonus, not part of the job description. Your job is simply to love your kids with all your exhausted heart, and to teach them to love Jesus. That’s a high calling. Don’t go throwing in other, extraneous things to make your life more difficult. If you want to teach your kids to sew, great. But don’t be crushed by guilt if your kids aren’t making stylish blazers by the age of 10.
Moms, Jesus want you to rest in him. He wants you to chill out. His yoke is easy and his burden is light. Don’t compare yourself to other moms. Don’t try to be something God hasn’t called you to be. If the mom blogs are making you feel guilty, stop reading them. Be faithful to what he has truly called you to do, and know that he is pleased with you. When your kids are resting, don’t feel guilty about watching an episode of “Lost”, or whatever your favorite show may happen to be.
Love God, love your husband, love your kids. Keep it simple and chill out.
It’s a good thing you were born at night. This world sure seems dark. I have a good eye for silver linings. But they seem dimmer lately.
These killings, Lord. These children, Lord. Innocence violated. Raw evil demonstrated.
The whole world seems on edge. Trigger-happy. Ticked off. We hear threats of chemical weapons and nuclear bombs. Are we one button-push away from annihilation?
Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were nightshift workers. The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was dark. Dark with Herod’s jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark with poverty. Dark with violence.
Herod went on a rampage, killing babies. Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt. You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene.
Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day. Won’t you enter ours? We are weary of bloodshed. We, like the wise men, are looking for a star. We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger.
This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us.
It’s been said that life is not about the breaths you take, but about the moments that take your breath away. An amazing sunset. A first kiss. A walk down the aisle. They all qualify. For our family, a stretch in time about two years ago contained a series of moments that took our breath away.
One of those moments has found a permanent home in my memory. It was the day we met our boys, Jonathan and Nicholas, for the first time. We had just finished an hour-long meeting with our caseworker that had given us their brief life history. Their story was fleshed out with some background details about their parents, grandparents, and a few aunts and uncles.
When that part of the meeting ended, she led us down a hallway and through a door. And that’s when it happened, a sort of surreal moment that seemed to be crawling in slow motion. About thirty feet away, in a different room, we saw our boys for the first time through a glass wall. I was supposed to be listening to our caseworker give us some final instructions before meeting them, but I didn’t hear a word she said. My eyes were fixed on my boys, a knot in my stomach, and a lump in my throat. The moment took my breath away.
In Psalm 139, the Bible says that God knows every one of our days before they came to be. The larger context of the passage tells us that not only does God know every one of our days, but he has known about them since before the creation of the world.
That means God knew about July 18, 2005 long before I did. He knew that on a blistering hot summer day in a crowded hotel in mainland China, we would get to hold our little girl for the first time. He knew that on a cold rainy day on November 22, 2010, we would get to meet our boys for the first time. Psalm 139 means that before any of what we see around us even came to be, God knew the day I would be born. He even knows the day that he will call me home to be with him forever. And he knows the same about you.
But this night I realized something pretty amazing. On the way home from our visit with the boys, Stacey said that had we not moved to Niagara years ago, our lives wouldn’t be changing in the ways they are right now. That’s not what amazes me; even in my limited understanding, I was able to put that together. Nor does it amaze me that Jonathan was born on July 11, 2007, and only three weeks later we moved to Niagara.
What amazes me is that God knew all of that before it came to be. He knows the beginning from the end. What amazes me is that God is the grand orchestrator of all things, and in the midst of weaving together his perfect plan, he is gracious enough to give us these simple yet profound moments that take our breath away.
A visit at the boy’s foster home ended by putting them to bed, Jonathan in his Thomas the Tank bed, and Nicholas in his racecar bed. As soon as we got home, Katie was off to bed, too.
Only then did I realize something else pretty amazing. That night was the first night that I got ‘good nights’ from all three of my kids. First from Nicholas. Then from Jonathan. Then, from my little girl and new big-sister, Katie.
These are the ladies in my life for whom I will gladly stand in the gap. And these are the young warriors I will gladly train to stand in the gap for their God.
I’m a pastor at a church in southern Ontario, Canada, and I love what I do. Like most guys, I want my life to count for something and I want to help other guys learn how that can happen for them, too.
I love Jesus, my wife, my kids, my friends, the Bible, the Toronto Maple Leafs, preaching and teaching, writing, a good cup of java, being bald (kinda), a free cup of java, saying java, beautiful sunsets, romantic dinners, long walks on the beach . . . wait . . . what?
Whenever I start to get discouraged about the future of the church, I remember a conversation I had a few years ago with evangelical theologian Carl F. H. Henry on what would turn out to be his last visit to Southern Seminary before his death.
Several of us were lamenting the miserable shape of the church, about so much doctrinal vacuity, vapid preaching, non-existent discipleship. We asked Dr. Henry if he saw any hope in the coming generation of evangelicals.
And I will never forget his reply.
“Why, you speak as though Christianity were genetic,” he said. “Of course, there is hope for the next generation of evangelicals. But the leaders of the next generation might not be coming from the current evangelical establishment. They are probably still pagans.”
“Who knew that Saul of Tarsus was to be the great apostle to the Gentiles?” he asked us. “Who knew that God would raise up a C.S. Lewis, a Charles Colson? They were unbelievers who, once saved by the grace of God, were mighty warriors for the faith.”
Of course, the same principle applied to Henry himself. Who knew that God would raise up a newspaperman from a nominally Lutheran family to defend the Scriptures for generations of conservative evangelicals?
The next Jonathan Edwards might be the man driving in front of you with the Darwin Fish bumper decal. The next Charles Wesley might be a misogynist, profanity-spewing hip-hop artist right now. The next Billy Graham might be passed out drunk in a fraternity house right now. The next Charles Spurgeon might be making posters for a Gay Pride March right now. The next Mother Teresa might be managing an abortion clinic right now.
But the Spirit of God can turn all that around. And seems to delight to do so. The new birth doesn’t just transform lives, creating repentance and faith; it also provides new leadership to the church, and fulfills Jesus’ promise to gift his church with everything needed for her onward march through space and time (Eph. 4:8-16).
After all, while Phillip was leading the Ethiopian eunuch to Christ, Saul of Tarsus was still a murderer.
Most of the church in any generation comes along through the slow, patient discipleship of the next generation. But just to keep us from thinking Christianity is evolutionary and “natural” (or, to use Dr. Henry’s term “genetic”), Jesus shocks his church with leadership that seems to come like a Big Bang out of nowhere.
Whenever I’m tempted to despair about the shape of American Christianity, I’m reminded that Jesus never promised the triumph of the American church; he promised the triumph of the church. Most of the church, in heaven and on earth, isn’t American. Maybe the hope of the American church is right now in Nigeria or Laos or Indonesia.
Jesus will be King, and his church will flourish. And he’ll do it in the way he chooses, by exalting the humble and humbling the exalted, and by transforming cowards and thieves and murderers into the cornerstones of his New City.
So relax.
And, be kind to that atheist in front of you on the highway, the one who just shot you an obscene gesture. He might be the one who evangelizes your grandchildren.
Dr. Moore is the Dean of the School of Theology and Senior Vice-President for Academic Administration at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He also serves as a preaching pastor at Highview Baptist Church, where he ministers weekly at the congregation’s Fegenbush location. Moore is the author of several books, including The Kingdom of Christ, Adopted for Life, andTempted and Tried.
Someone once said the unexamined life is not worth living. I imagine that’s right. In the same vein, I would like to propose that the unexamined worship is not worth offering.
Worship that is not examined tends to sink to the lowest common denominator.
Being retired now and in a different church almost every Sunday, I see every kind of worship service you can imagine. Some give evidence of much thought, serious planning, and loving attention. Others appear to be the same form that congregation has followed since the Second World War, with even the hymns being unchanged.
Once or twice the thought has popped into my mind that it would be interesting to stop that deacon in the middle of his prayer or the song-leader in the midst of his/her exercise and say, “Hey! What is this all about? Why are you doing this?”
Those are good questions. I suggest anyone involved in worship leadership pose them (and a few others) to himself.
Why are we doing church this way? Why do we sing these hymns and not those? Why do our prayers sound the same week after week? What would happen if we changed the format? Why would I want to do that? What are we doing here on Sunday mornings? What is our purpose? What do we expect to get out of this?
Worship that is not examined tends to become routine quickly.
By “routine,” I mean the worship service is characterized by a sameness in form, a dullness in expression, a pointlessness in purpose.
C. S. Lewis once said something to the effect that he could worship in any kind of format so long as it was unchanging and unvarying from week to week. He clearly liked the sameness and predictability of his worship service. I expect he has plenty of company, but I’m equally certain this is not good.
The human mind needs to be awakened and challenged in church, not sedated. It needs to be redeemed and focused, not lulled into a lethargy.
When Hosea and later Jeremiah called on God’s people to “break up the fallow ground,” they were calling for a personal humbling and repentance before a Holy God. However, that command pertains to worship also. So easily do we fall into our ruts, offering up hymns and prayers mindlessly, giving offerings thoughtlessly, hearing sermons passively.
Worship that is not examined soon ceases to focus on God and turns its attention to man.
Listen to the congregation as they exit the worship facility. “I got a lot out of that today.” “I didn’t get anything out of that sermon today.”
Man-centered. The object of worship deteriorated into meeting the needs of the worshipers, a task no human agency on earth (the pastor, the staff, the choir) can meet. Only God can meet people’s needs at the deepest level. And those needs are met best through worship.
Recently, in an article on this website, I suggested many in our churches are going about worship all wrong. They go to church for what they can get out of it, rather than to “give unto the Lord the glory due to His name” (Ps. 29:2).
The reaction to that article was divided. Some sent notes of appreciation for awakening them to how they had been worshiping wrongly–coming to ‘get’ instead of to ‘give,’ putting too great a burden on their minister, and then blaming him when they were not fed adequately.
Others treated that line of thought as though it were blasphemy. One person (who did not write me; I found his blog accidentally) called it “utter nonsense.” The very idea that we do not “go to church to be fed spiritually.” I left a response, but have had no communication from him.
At no point did I suggest that we do not need to be spiritually fed. We all need to have our minds awakened and our hearts moved in worship. We all want to leave church different from the way we entered. However–and this is the point–it should be something God did, not the preacher. Something God gave us, not something we worked up. Something God chose to bless us with of His own will and for His own pleasure, not some kind of bargain we made with Him.
Examining our worship means to ask the right questions of ourselves.
1. Why am I here?
Today, as we enter God’s house for the umpteenth time, we will be doing much the same things we have done all those other times. We will sing the same songs, voice prayers similar to countless others we have offered, give offerings, hear sermons–most of them undistinguishable from thousands of others throughout our lifetime. Why?
How we answer that tells worlds about us.
If our answer does not center in God (the Father, the Lord Jesus, the Holy Spirit), then we are giving the wrong answer.
Here are three wrong answers to the question “Why am I in God’s house today?”
“I’m going through a hard time and need the Lord.” (So, once you get through this and back on easy street, you’ll not need Him any more, right? And we’ll miss you in church.)
“I’m facing a tough decision and need some guidance.” (The Lord is your counselor? That’s good. But when do you NOT need guidance?)
“I feel bad over what I’ve done and need God’s forgiveness.” (That’s good, too, as far as it goes. It’s just not enough. You’re treating the Lord like a confessional: get forgiveness, then you’re off to sin again?)
Any answer to the question “Why am I in church today?” that does not center in God Himself is inadequate.
2. Why am I doing what I’m doing?
Why sing these songs, pray these prayers, bring this offering, participate in this Lord’s Supper, hear this sermon? (Or, in the case of the pastor, why preach this sermon?)
Asking “why?” has a glorious tradition. God likes it when His children raise that question. Again and again He told Israel, “So it shall be when your son asks you in time to come ‘What is this?’ that you shall say to him, ‘By strength of hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.'” (Exodus 13:14)
(Other places where God says children will be asking these questions include Exodus 12:26; 13:8; Deuteronomy 6:20; and Joshua 4:6,21. You’d think we would figure it out by now, that it’s normal for them to ask and important for us to answer.)
Children have a way of asking pertinent questions. “Why do we have to go to church again this Sunday?” “Why is the sermon so long?” “Why is it so boring?” Rather than rebuking the little one, we should give a well-thought out answer.
If we have one.
The person participating in unexamined worship has no answer other than “this is how we do it in our family.” That sloppy response accounts for children growing up with a disrespect for the religious faith of their youth. They deserve an answer.
And that starts with your finding your own answer. Why do you bring offerings? Why do you sing hymns (and those particular ones)? Why do you sit and hear sermons? Why do the sermons last so long? And why is church pretty much the same every week?
3. What does our kind of worship say about God?
As a Southern Baptist living in New Orleans, I find myself wondering about people who pray so many “Hail Marys” every day. Bumper stickers urge worshipers to “Pray the Rosary.” What, I wonder, does this kind of mindless repetition say about God in the minds of those reciting such prayers? And does the Lord’s comment that “the heathen think they will be heard for their much speaking” (also called “vain repetitions”) apply here (Matthew 6:7)?
If it does, does that caution also apply to my prayers which have a way of sounding fairly like all the prayers of former days? Am I guilty of vain repetitions? And if so, what does that say about how I see God?
The Old Testament book of Malachi deals with this very issue. God in Heaven looked down at the sick offerings worshipers were bringing, the casual attitudes with which they went about His service, the boredom in their minds, and the impurities in their personal lives, and He announced He had just about enough of it. You have wearied the Lord with your words. (Mal. 2:17)
You priests despise my Name, God said (1:6). By offering defiled food on the altar, they were dishonoring the Almighty. When you offer the blind as a sacrifice, is it not evil? And when you offer the lame and sick, is it not evil? Offer it then to your governor! Would he be pleased with you? (1:8)
The overall thrust of Scripture from start to finish is that acceptable worshp to our God is not an interruption of our daily lives but a continuation of the holiness that characterized our daily walk. Here is the prophet Micah: With what shall I come before the Lord and bow myself before the High God? Shall I come before Him with burnt offerings? With calves a year old? Is that what God wants?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams? With ten thousand rivers of oil? A lot of people in that day thought so.
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? What could be a greater expression of devotion that offering up one’s own child as a sacrifice to God. That’s how pagans thought, and to their everlasting shame, a number of God’s own people bought into that heresy .
He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you,
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God? (Mal. 6:6-8)
Our worship activities should be an outgrowth of our daily life of devoted obedience to the Father, otherwise we are playing at worship and wasting our time.
When King Saul decided to do things his way instead of obeying the Lord–he was so sure that since he “meant well” the details did not matter–the Prophet Samuel announced, Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams. (I Samuel 15:22)
A similar theme is sounded after David’s sin with Bathsheba and the forgiveness he received with the Prophet Nathan in the wonderful 51st Psalm. For you do not desire sacrifice, or else I would give it; you do not delight in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart–These, O God, you will not despise. (Ps. 51:16-17)
Does God want our hymns and offerings? Our prayers and our sermons? Does the Father in Heaven desire our worship? The answer is: He does, so long as these are expressions of our love and faithfulness. He does, so long as they are not attempts to buy His favor. He does, so long as we are making ourselves available to Him–for whatever His will may be–and not seeking His approval on our disobedience.
A well-known preacher of a previous generation used to tell of the time when he was ten years old and experimenting with smoking. On a downtown street, he was puffing on a cigar butt he had found. At that moment, he looked up and saw his father coming down the sidewalk toward him. Thinking quickly, he stashed the burning tobacco into his pocket and rushed forward. “Father,” he said, “Did you see the posters? The circus is coming to town? Can we go? Please?” His father said, “Son, never ask your father for a favor when you are hiding a smoldering disobedience from him.”
Dr. Joe McKeever is a retired Baptist pastor who lives in New Orleans. His articles and cartoons can be seen at joemckeever.com
Give unto the Lord the glory due to His name (Psalm 29:2).
It’s Sunday around noonish. As the congregation files out of the sanctuary heading toward the parking lot, listen closely and you will hear it.
It’s a common refrain voiced near the exit doors of churches all across this land.
“I didn’t get anything out of that today.” “I didn’t get anything out of the sermon.” “I didn’t get anything out of that service.” “I guess her song was all right, but I didn’t get anything out of it.”
Sound familiar? Not only have I heard it countless times over these near-fifty years in the ministry, I probably have said it a few times myself.
This is like dry rot in a congregation. Like a termite infestation in the building. Like an epidemic afflicting the people of the Lord, one which we seem helpless to stop.
But let’s try. Let’s see if we can make a little difference where you and I live, in the churches where we serve and worship. We might not be able to help all of them, but if we bless one or two, it will have been time well spent.
1. You are Not Supposed to ‘Get Anything Out of the Service’
Worship is not about you and me. Not about “getting our needs met.” Not about a performance from the pastor and singer and choir and musicians. Not in the least.
2. Worship is About the Lord
“Give unto the Lord the glory due to His name.” That Psalm 29:2 verse atop our article today is found also in I Chronicles 16:29 and Psalm 96:8. It deserves being looked at closely.
a) We are in church to give. Not to get.
Now, if I am going somewhere to “get,” but find out on arriving, I am expected to “give,” I am one frustrated fellow. And that is what is happening in the typical church service. People walk out the door frustrated because they didn’t “get.” The reason they didn’t is that they were not there to “get,” but to “give.”
Someone should have told them.
b) We are giving glory to God. Not to man.
We know that. At least we say we do. How many times have we recited, “…for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory”? And how often have we sung, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow…”?
c) We do so because glory is His right. He is “worthy of worship.”
This is the theme of the final book of the Bible.
“Who is worthy?” (Rev. 5:2)
“You are worthy…for you were slain, and have redeemed us” (Rev. 5:9).
“Worthy is the Lamb that was slain” (Rev. 5:12).
3. Self-centeredness Destroys All Worship
If my focus is on myself when I enter the church–getting my needs met, learning something, hearing a lesson that blesses me, being lifted by the singing–then Christ has no part in it. He becomes my servant, and the pastor (and all the other so-called performers) are there only for me. It’s all about me.
We have strayed so far from the biblical concept of worship–giving God His due in all the ways He has commanded–it’s a wonder we keep going to church. And it’s an even greater wonder that our leaders keep trying to get us to worship.
The poor preacher! Trying to cater to the insatiable hungers of his people, even the best and most godly among them, is an impossible task. One week he gets it right and eats up the accolades. Then, about the time he thinks he has it figured out, the congregation walks out grumbling that they got nothing out of the meal he served today.
The typical congregation in the average church today really does think the service is all about them–getting people saved, learning the Word, receiving inspiration to last another week, having their sins forgiven, taking an offering to provision the Lord’s work throughout the world.
Anything wrong with those things? Absolutely not. But if we go to church to do those things, we can do them. But we will not have worshiped.
Warren Wiersbe says, “If you worship because it pays, it will not pay.”
4. Evangelism & Discipleship, Giving & Praying, Grow Out of Worship; Not the Other Way Around
The disciples were worshiping on the Day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit filled them and drove them into the streets to bear a witness to the living Christ (Acts 2).
Isaiah was in the Temple worshiping when God appeared to him, forgave his sins, and called him as a prophet to the people (Isaiah 6).
It was in the act of worship that the two distraught disciples had their eyes opened to recognize Jesus at their table (Luke 24).
5. We are to Give Him Worship and Glory in the Ways Scripture Commands
“Give to the Lord the glory due His name and bring an offering.” So commands I Chronicles 16:29 and Psalm 96:8.
“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit. A broken and contrite heart–these, O God, you will not despise.” (Psalm 51:17)
Singing, praise, rejoicing. Praying, offering, humbling, loving. All these are commanded in worship at various places in Scripture.
The Lord Jesus told the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, “Those who worship God must worship in spirit and in truth” (John 4:24). That is, with their inner being, the totality of themselves, their spirit, not just their lips or their bodies going through the motions. And in truth–the revealed truth of how God has prescribed worship to take place. He is not pleased with “just anything” that we claim as worship.
We must balance our worship between spirit (the subjective part: body, soul, emotions) and truth (the objective aspect: all that God has revealed in His word).
6. We Are the Ones Who Decide Whether We Worship upon Entering the House of the Lord
Don’t blame the preacher if you don’t worship. He can’t do it for you.
No one else can eat my food for me, love my cherished ones in my place, or do my worshiping for me.
No pastor can decide or dictate whether we will worship by the quality of his leadership or the power of his sermon. Whether I worship in today’s service has absolutely nothing to do with how well he does his job.
I am in charge of this decision. I decide whether I will worship.
When Mary sat before the Lord Jesus, clearly worshiping, He informed a disgruntled Martha that her sister had “chosen the good part,” something that “will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:42). That something special was time spent in worship. Such moments or hours are eternal.
Lest someone point out that Martha could have worshiped in her kitchen by her service for Christ, we do not argue, but simply point out that she was not doing so that day.
7. Remember: Worship is a Verb
And it’s an active verb at that.
Worship is something we do, not something done to us.
In the worst of circumstances, I can still worship my God. In the Philippians prison, while their backs were still oozing blood from the beating they’d received, Paul and Silas worshiped (Acts 16:25).
Even if a church has no pastor and has to make do with a stuttering layman or some inept fill-in, I can still bow before the Lord, offer Him my praise, and give Him my all. I can humble before Him and I can bring my offering.
What I cannot do is leave church blaming my failure to worship on the poor singing, the boring sermon, or the noise from the children in the next pew. I am in charge of the decision whether I will worship, and no one else.
Someone has pointed out that ours is the only nation on earth where church members feel they have to have “worshipful architecture” before they can adequately honor the Lord. Millions of Christians across the world seem to worship just fine without any kind of building. Believers in Malawi meet under mango trees, according to retired missionary Mike Canady, and their worship is as anointed as anyone’s anywhere. (What? No stained glass!)
Our insistence on worshipful music, worship settings, and worshipful everything are all signs of our disgusting self-centeredness.
It’s disgusting because I see it in myself, and do not like it.
No one enjoys a great choir more than I. I love to hear a soloist transport us all into the throne room by his/her vocal offering in the service. A great testimony of God’s grace and power thrills me. And of course, being a preacher, I delight in hearing a sermon that you feel is direct from the heart of God.
But if I require any one or all of those before I can worship, something is vastly wrong with me.
My friends, something is vastly wrong with us today.
Dr. Joe McKeever is a retired Baptist pastor who lives in New Orleans. His articles and cartoons can be seen at joemckeever.com
