Here’s what I’ve been wrestling with all week…Mark 10:35-45.
If James and John—the Sons of Thunder—showed up in our church today asking Jesus for the VIP thrones in His kingdom, what would we say?
We might high-five their ambition. “Guys, you’ve got vision! That’s the drive we need.” We’d probably hand them a leadership book and say, “Keep climbing—sacrifice a little now to go up later.”
In business, politics, and even too many church circles, we celebrate the climbers. Success looks like ascending the ladder.
But Jesus doesn’t applaud them. Right after predicting His own suffering and death—for the third time—He responds, in essence: “You have no idea what you’re asking.”
This passage in Mark 10 turns my idea of leadership upside down. Here’s where I’ve landed this morning: Kingdom greatness doesn’t climb ladders. It descends—through service, sacrifice, and ultimately the cross.
The World’s Way
James and John approach Jesus: “Teacher, do for us whatever we ask… Grant us to sit, one at Your right hand and one at Your left, in Your glory.” Thrones. Honor. Prime seats.
These are the same disciples who once wanted to call down fire on a rejecting village (Luke 9:51-56). Ambitious? Yes. Evil? Not really—just blinded by the world’s definition of success. And the timing stings: this comes immediately after Jesus warns them again about His coming rejection, death, and resurrection.
Jesus doesn’t scold. He asks, “Are you able to drink the cup I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I’m baptized with?” The cup is suffering. The baptism is immersion in pain and death.
They boldly reply, “We are able.” Jesus affirms they will share in that suffering (James martyred, John exiled), but the seats aren’t His to grant.
The other disciples hear and get indignant—jealousy erupts. Sound familiar? We’ve all wrestled with “Who’s the greatest?” in our hearts, families, workplaces, or churches.
Jesus gathers them and contrasts the world’s model: “You know that those considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them… But it shall not be so among you. Whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first shall be slave of all.”
In the world, leaders climb ladders. In the Kingdom, leaders carry crosses.
It’s one thing to wash feet. It’s another to carry a cross.
We read good leadership books—even Christian ones. John Maxwell’s Law #18 says a leader must give up to go up. Helpful principle. But for Jesus, sacrifice isn’t one law among many—it’s the only law. “Going up” isn’t the goal. Going down is.
The Jesus Way
Jesus doesn’t just teach this. He embodies it:
“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45)
The Son of Man—with all authority—didn’t come to be waited on. He came to serve. And the ultimate service? Laying down His life to ransom captives free. That’s the Suffering Servant of Isaiah 53.
Paul captures the full descent in Philippians 2:
Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant… he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:5-8)
The cross doesn’t just save us. It shapes us—how we live, serve, and lead.
A Little Confession
This passage has confronted me hard during Lent. For years in ministry, I climbed the ecclesiastical ladder. I started wanting to help people (that’s why I left law enforcement for pastoring—more room for grace). But I brought worldly expectations: success meant bigger churches, bigger roles, maybe even bishop.
The Church encouraged it—leadership seminars, conferences, principles adapted from the world. I rose to District Superintendent, then a large church. I eyed the next rung.
And yes, jealousy too—just like the disciples. Seeing others promoted to “big” churches, I wondered, “Why not me? Why hasn’t God blessed me that way?”
Lent is for repentance. Jesus never tires of leading us home. By grace, He’s reshaping that ambition in me—not perfectly, but continually.
What About You?
Everything rises or falls on Mark 10:45. Jesus didn’t climb a ladder—He descended to the cross so we could be set free. That ransom wasn’t for our comfort or status; it was so we could become like Him: servants who lead by laying down our lives.
So here’s the question: Will you lay down the ladder you’ve been climbing? Maybe it’s ambition for recognition in your family, workplace, church role, or your own heart. Will you pick up your cross instead—not dramatically, but in daily choices: to serve rather than be served, listen rather than demand, give rather than grasp?
The same John who chased thrones later wrote: “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters” (1 John 3:16).
If God transformed him, He can transform us.
Here is the prayer I’ve been praying all week: “Lord, I lay down my ladder. I pick up my cross. Reshape me like You.”
Would you pray it with me? Share your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear and pray with you.
Until next time, keep looking up…
(If this stirred something, feel free to share it. Lent is a season for turning toward the cross together.)
We live in a world of plenty. I don’t think any of us living in the United States of America could legitimately argue otherwise, the frequent conversations centered around homelessness, poverty and food insecurity notwithstanding. Even the poorest among us are considered rich by the rest of the world’s standards.
There are, however, signs around us that indicate even in this world of plenty, there is still something lacking, and that is truly sad. Those indicators are not tangible things like food, shelter, clothing and transportation. They’re much more intangible—things like identity, meaning, purpose and fulfillment. Dare I even say, “Salvation?” You know? All things that money can’t buy.
According to recent data from the National Alliance on Mental Illness and other sources, about 1 in 5 U.S. adults — over 60 million people — experience mental illness each year, with rising concerns around depression, anxiety, and suicide. This hits young people especially hard: Generation Z, despite unprecedented access to information via smartphones, reports some of the highest levels of mental health struggles among generations. We’ve experienced it in our own family, and it is heartbreaking.
Life is not a matter of having enough stuff. It’s a matter of having the right stuff. We can go through life achieving much success, status in our community, gaining financial security and all while being deeply sincere in our beliefs and our actions, and yet, we can still feel as though something is missing. That is a sad predicament, indeed!
A Rich Young Ruler
Lest I paint too grim a picture, though, let me remind us that there is nothing new under the sun. We’re not the first generation to wrestle with the nature of “stuff” and its impact on our lives. Remember that Jesus encountered a young man who came asking the deep question we’ve all asked at one time or another: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Mark’s record of the encounter begins this way:
As Jesus was starting out on his way to Jerusalem, a man came running up to him, knelt down, and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:17 NLT)
This encounter is recorded in the three “synoptic” Gospels—Mark, Luke and Matthew. When we put all three accounts together we begin to get a clear picture of the young man. Yes, Mark only says a “man,” but Matthew makes the distinction that he is “young,” and Luke even includes that he is a “ruler” of sorts, so this has become “the story of the rich young ruler.”
I find it interesting that he was young, and like the young people of our day, he was struggling with a deep existential question. I mention Mark’s account because there is one detail that Mark gives us that I believe we need to note if we’re to grasp the meaning of the entire encounter. I’ll “circle back” to that detail momentarily.
What do we know about this young man? Well, from Luke’s gospel (Luke 18:18-30), we know he was rich. We assume it from Mark and Matthew (Matthew 19:16-26) because it says he had “great wealth.” Great wealth? From that, it is safe to assume that he had some measure of success in his life, although I suppose he could have inherited his wealth. Even if he did inherit it, we know that most children from wealthy families do pretty well on their own. Whether he inherited his wealth or was a successful businessman, his success brought him a measure of status in his community because Luke tells us he was a “ruler.”
It’s unlikely that a Roman official would approach Jesus with a religious question, so the “rich young ruler” was probably a Jewish leader in the local synagogue or perhaps even a member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish court that dealt with religious issues in Jesus’ day.
Something is Missing
Success? Check. Status? Check. I think we can also say he was sincere. According to Mark, the man runs to Jesus and bows before Him. This was not some Jewish religious leadership set up of Jesus. No, this is not how they operated. In Mark’s gospel, the Scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees just show up and start questioning Jesus (see Mark 2 and Mark 7).
Mark says the man both ran and knelt indicating he was sincerely seeking wisdom and an answer to his question. But, we also learn of his sincerity in his keeping of the law. Listen to the conversation again:
17 As Jesus was starting out on his way to Jerusalem, a man came running up to him, knelt down, and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (That’s a sincere question)
18 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus asked. “Only God is truly good. 19 But to answer your question, you know the commandments: ‘You must not murder. You must not commit adultery. You must not steal. You must not testify falsely. You must not cheat anyone. Honor your father and mother’.”
20 “Teacher,” the man replied, “I’ve obeyed all these commandments since I was young.”
The young man was a sincere seeker after truth. By every account, here was a man that had success, status in the community and financial security who was truly sincere in matters of faith. He was a good man seeking to do the right thing and live a good life.
And yet, something was missing. All of that was not enough. Let me say it another way: This man had achieved all he could hope to achieve. It was not enough. He was lacking in a world of plenty. I wonder if we don’t often find ourselves in the same position? Could it be that we, like him, have everything the world says should be enough…yet still walk away empty?
Personally, as a businessman, I know how easy it is to depend on the balance sheet and the P&L statement to define success and my achievement. I did the same thing when I was in full-time ministry.
Success is the measure of a man. Sincerity is a gauge for our goodness. Both are far from reality. The truth is we want to be achievers, not believers. We think we can achieve our salvation, and we do so through success and sincerity. None of our achievements merit salvation. Even the most sincere among us can be sincerely wrong.
A Little Love Goes a Long Way
I love Jesus’s response to him. Here’s that little detail Mark includes, which is so unlike Mark. Mark is a “just the facts” kind of guy. Mark’s inclusion of this detail signifies (I think) its importance. Verse 21 says, “Looking at the man, Jesus felt genuine love for him.”
Genuine love! Jesus responded to him with love. It is in love that Jesus corrects us all, and it is in love that Jesus invites us all. 1 John 3:16 says, “We know what real love is because Jesus gave up His life for us.”
Jesus wasn’t angry with the man. Jesus heard the man’s question and saw the man’s need, so He responds, “Here’s what you lack…go sell your stuff…give it to the poor…come, follow Me” (Lynn paraphrase).
Here’s the sad part: Mark tells us the man went away sad because he had great wealth. Yes, he had stuff. He had success. He had status. He had security. He even had sincerity. The one thing he lacked? Surrender! The man just couldn’t let go.
Jesus uses the man’s departure as a teaching moment for His disciples. Jesus says, “Hey guys. Do you know how hard it is for a rich person to make it into the Kingdom? It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich person to enter the Kingdom” (another Lynn paraphrase).
Let’s set aside the “camel and eye of the needle” for now. Focus on that and we miss the point. That’s called majoring in the minors. The point Jesus is teaching his disciples is the difficulty of anyone entering the Kingdom of God.
And, the disciples get the point! “If that’s the case, who can be saved?” It’s the same question the man was asking. So, Jesus brings the point home in verse 27: “Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But not with God. Everything is possible with God.”
And, there it is. The key to eternal life…for the man in the encounter…for the disciples…and ultimately, for us, too. Everything is possible with God!
Surrendering the Good for the Best
That which is missing for us who live in a land of plenty is surrender. Surrender to the Lordship of Christ. We’re all good people. We’re generally successful folks. Most of us have a good measure of financial security and we have sincerely sought to be good people…to do the right thing for the right reason. But we wonder, “Am I saved?” “Will I make it to the Kingdom?” There’s something unsettled in our spirits and we can’t quite put our finger on it.
Success. Status. Security. Sincerity. Those are all good things. Not a bad thing in the bunch. They are, however, not enough. One thing we lack: surrender.
The man loved good things more than he loved Jesus. There is the sin in this encounter. No, it wasn’t a sin that would make us go, “Oh! No! How could he?” Sin is much more subtle than that. It slips up on us and catches us unaware…so much so that we think it isn’t even sin.
The man kept the law. He wanted to keep control, too. Control rarely feels like control to us. It feels like responsibility. Yet, it kept him from following Jesus. What a shame. Letting a good thing keep him from the best thing.
Our success and our sincerity are never enough for our salvation. Salvation never comes until we surrender to Jesus. Surrender all the things that hinder us from following Him. There is no salvation apart from surrender. Don’t misunderstand me. Salvation is not a transaction. We are not saved because we surrender perfectly — we are saved because we trust the One who surrendered Himself for us.
We hold in our grasp many great and wonderful things…things we’ve worked hard for…things we’ve attained. They mean a lot to us. They are good and wonderful things. They are not the greatest thing, though, and in order to grasp the greatest thing, we have to let go of the good things.
Surrender is not dramatic first. It is directional. It is this: Lord, You get final say:
Over my money.
Over my schedule.
Over my reputation.
Over my ambitions.
Over my security.
Over my success.
We cannot save ourselves. Our success will not be enough. Our status will not be enough. Our security will not be enough. Our sincerity will not be enough. But what is impossible with us is possible with God. God has done for us what we could never do for ourselves. Fully. Finally. In Jesus Christ. Jesus is enough!
So, we do not achieve eternal life. We receive it. We trust Him.
The man walked away sad. We don’t have to walk away sad because Jesus is all the enough we’ll ever need.
I had another conversation this week with a member whose church was going through conflict. The member spoke of conflict the congregation was having with the pastor and about conflict the congregation is having within itself on the future direction of the congregation.
The conflict centered around a looming vote by the congregation on remaining independent or aligning with a denomination. The member stated, “If we stay independent, we’ll lose 3/4 of the congregation and if we align with the denomination, we’ll lose 1/4 of the congregation and the pastor.”
Where the church member I had the conversation with came down in the conflict is immaterial. Either way, the congregation is headed toward a split and that’s rarely a good thing, especially in a small church.
First, it sounds like the decision is already made. I mean, if that member thinks 3/4 of the congregation will leave if it chooses to remain independent, the likelihood of a vote to remain independent is between slim and none (if everyone shows up to vote, anyway). That only means there will be another small church whose pulpit will be empty.
Of course, the congregation is counting on affiliating with a new denomination to help with the pastoral search. Yes, it will help, but methinks the congregation is not being very realistic. The denomination cannot send what it does not have.
An Empty Pipeline
The ministerial pipeline is not full enough to provide pastoral leadership to all the congregations that are searching. There are not enough people entering vocational ministry to fill the gaps.
Seminary attendance is declining. Yes, people are still attending seminary, but fewer and fewer are doing so to fill a pulpit. Seriously? Why would they? An entry level salary for a full-time clergy is between $35,000 – 45,000 a year. That’s at a good church! It doesn’t make financial sense for a person to invest $70,000 in a seminary education for that entry level salary.
I graduated from seminary with $28,000 in debt (from undergrad and grad school). It took us ten years to pay off that debt on what were basically entry level wages. School tuitions have skyrocketed since I was in seminary. If I were a young(er) person contemplating a ministry calling, I’d be hard pressed to consider seminary.
One interesting thing that is happening is that of those who are attending seminary, 40% of them are not doing so to fill the pulpit. They’re looking at other ways of serving in ministry through non-profits or other specialized ministries.
I heard the story of one seminary graduate who applied for an open youth pastor position at a church who was offered $42,000/year with no benefits. When she asked for more money so she could afford to pay her student loans and still manage living expenses, the board got offended. The candidate eventually took a position as a school counselor making $55,000/year with full benefits.
More money and she still gets to engage with youth on a daily basis. She also has most weekends off, and the school doesn’t expect her to work 60 hours a week.
I know of another congregation that wanted its pastor to lead Sunday worship, mid-week Bible study, teach a Sunday school class, visit the shut-ins and attend monthly business meetings (where they would have no vote), and all for the hefty sum of $18,000/year. By my estimation, that’s about 40 hours/week between preparation and presentation. That doesn’t calculate drive time if the pastor doesn’t actually live in the community he/she serves.
Yes, I’m saying congregations (generally) expect too much for what they’re willing to pay. And, don’t come at me with the “Ministry shouldn’t be about money” retort. You’re right. It shouldn’t be, and for most clergy it isn’t. But, it is about being able to feed a family and meet basic living expenses.
I know the examples I offered are only anecdotal but they do reflect the reality of vocational ministry in the contemporary church. Local congregations who pay living wages are far more likely to attract viable candidates for their empty pulpits. Unfortunately, most congregations can’t (or won’t) afford full-time clergy going forward.
Like the congregation in the conversation I had this week, either way their congregation is going to be diminished. They will lose members. That means less money. Good luck finding that pastor willing to move across the state (or the country) to pastor a small congregation that has suffered deep conflict. That’s a special calling indeed.
Signs of Hope
Lest you think I’m being overly grim, I do want to offer what I see as two opportunities on the horizon (obstacles are only opportunities, right?).
First, is the shift to bivocational ministry. Yes, it’s what I’m doing. Honestly, I’m finding much more fulfillment as a bivocational pastor than I ever did in full-time ministry. That’s not a knock on full-time ministry. If you’re called to full-time ministry, go for it! I’m just saying there is a freedom in ministry when one’s livelihood isn’t dependent on the congregation.
Bivocational ministry will open doors to congregations to fill their empty pulpits. Of course, it means those congregations will have to adjust their expectations of what pastoral leadership looks like. Congregations can’t expect full-time ministry on part-time pay. It’s selfish and immoral. There, I said it. Deal with it.
Bivocational ministry also means denominations will have to adjust its “qualifications” for ministry credentials, seeing bivocational pastors as equals to “Elders in full-connection” (to use my current denomination’s terminology–my former one, too). Denominations will be seeing more bivocational clergy and fewer full-time clergy if current trends continue. Denominations must level that playing field going forward.
Bivocational clergy are not any less called than vocational clergy. The only difference is the way in which we are living out God’s call. And, I’m not thoroughly convinced that bivocational ministry isn’t closer to the biblical model. I’m thinking about Paul here who supported his ministry by making tents and Peter who went back to fishing after the resurrection.
The future looks much brighter for congregations who are willing to embrace the opportunities bivocational ministry affords them.
Second, is the opportunity for congregations to raise up their own pastoral leadership. Now this…this…is biblical in the strictest sense. For small congregations, the reality is that their next pastoral leader is sitting in the pew right now. I’m reminded of what the Apostle Paul wrote to the Ephesian church:
11 So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, 12 to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up 13 until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. (Ephesians 4:11-13 NIV)
Also, read Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12 where Paul reminds the local churches of the gifts of the Spirit and Peter, who reminds the local congregation of the priesthood of all believers in 1 Peter 2, and Jesus, Himself in Revelation calls the church a kingdom of priests. We are all ministers of the Gospel meant to live out our spiritual gifts in the body of Christ in the local congregation.
Small congregations must embrace the blessing of the ones sitting in their own pews. The church model of the past with paid ministry staff lulled most congregations to sleep, and made them willing to “pay” the professional to do ministry. That model is no longer sustainable. Here’s your chance to fill your empty pulpit internally and thus fulfill the first century image for the local congregation.
I know I’ve chewed this same dirt in blogs before, but the conversations I keep having keep me coming back to these realities.
I’m absolutely convinced the future for the Church/church is bright and secure. It’s just that the future I see isn’t going to look very much like the recent past. I think that’s a good thing. I also believe the Holy Spirit is in it.
A customer came in the shop last week and on the way out the door he went around to several of the staff and to me and gave us all a “little” Jesus. You know the one I’m talking about, right? Yeah, that little 1″ plastic Jesus you can keep in your pocket. That one!
My wife has one on the dashboard of her car. The pharmacy where I get my medicine has about a dozen of them across the drive-thru window (and a “little” Mary, too–for the Catholics, I suppose). And now, five of my staff and I have a little Jesus.
This is not meant to be a knock on the concept of the “little” Jesus. It’s actually a very heartwarming trend designed to remind folks of the message of love, hope and faith. Folks are purchasing these in bulk to hide in places like public parks, grocery stores, and, in some cases, the U.S. Capitol, as a way to share their faith and remind people that they are loved.
It’s quaint. It’s cute. It’s encouraging. I was grateful to the customer who gave them to us. I appreciate his effort to encourage us and remind us that Jesus loves us. It even gave me the idea that I should keep a bag of them in the shop to give to customers occasionally.
My fear, however, is that the “little” Jesus becomes a distortion of our view of the real Jesus–the One who was revealed on Mount Tabor (so says tradition) in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’s transfiguration (see Mark 9:2-13, Luke 9:28-36 and Matthew 17:1-8).
Peter’s View
What do I mean? I mean that I don’t want my view of Jesus to be like Peter’s view before the encounter on the mountain. What does Mark tell us:
5 Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” 6 (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.) Mark 9:5-6 NIV
It’s Mark’s parenthetical phrase that captures me–“He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.” Peter is not being profound. He is being scared. And when people are scared in the presence of something they cannot explain, they try to manage it.
Peter’s suggestion sounds spiritual — build shelters, preserve the moment — but underneath it is this instinct: Let’s contain this. Let’s freeze this glory. Let’s put Jesus on equal footing with Moses and Elijah.
We do the same thing. We want a “little” Jesus. Nope! The transfiguration blows that view out of the water.
When Jesus disrupts our assumptions, we try to domesticate Him. We turn Him into a manageable advisor instead of a sovereign Lord. We build theological tents that keep Him from challenging us. We say, “I’ll listen to Jesus — but also to culture. Also, to my preferences. Also, to whatever feels comfortable.”
Peter wanted three equal shrines. God the Father would have none of it.
No “Little” Jesus
Let us have none of it either. Let the “little” Jesus remind us of the Jesus revealed on the mountain. Let it remind us of the One who was from the beginning (John 1:1), and the One whom Peter remembered when he wrote the early Church:
16 For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. 17 He received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”[b]18 We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain. (2 Peter 1:16-18 NIV)
You and I do not live on mountains of visible glory. Yes, we have mountaintop moments in life. Like Peter, our lives are rollercoasters. The truth is we live more mundane Mondays and ordinary Tuesdays.
We live in doctor appointments. In business pressures. In strained relationships. In cultural confusion. But the command from the cloud still stands: “Listen to Him.”
There are so many voices competing for our allegiance. Voices telling us what matters most. Voices telling us what success is. Voices telling us what truth is. Voices telling us how to define morality. But when the noise clears (or the cloud, as it were), there is one voice that carries divine authority—Jesus only. Listen to Him.
When we are deciding whether to forgive or hold a grudge — don’t think we have a little Jesus. We have Him who forgave us completely. When we are tempted to cut ethical corners — don’t think we have a little Jesus. When suffering enters our life and we do not understand — we don’t have a little Jesus.
When fear creeps in about the future — we don’t have a little Jesus. We have a Jesus who is big enough to hold our future in His hands. When we wonder what really matters at the end of our life — we have a Jesus who is as big as God because He is God.
Eventually everything else fades. Careers fade. Health fades. Applause fades. Even religious systems fade. But, when the cloud lifts, and the mountain empties —there is Jesus! Larger than anything in this life. That’s the Jesus for me!
Keep your “little” Jesus (seriously, I mean keep him–I will), but keep him because he reminds you of the One who saves us from our sins, reconciles us to the Father, rose from the dead and will come again in the same glory that was revealed on the mountain that day.
Driving affords me the opportunity to listen. I do a lot of both! As I was driving last week, I was listening to a podcast. One of the points the podcast made was concerning a trend in the contemporary church. The point? Evangelism must move from the seats to the streets.
An Old Model
What do I mean? For generations now, the method of evangelism of the church has been to invite people to church (meaning a congregation), let them hear a presentation of the Gospel and lead them to a decision of faith. For generations of believers that method worked reasonably well. That method is not working anymore.
How do we know that method isn’t working? It’s not working because less people are attending church. That’s among Christians. As a matter of fact, the only demographic that is increasing is among men in Gen Z. Every other demographic in the U.S., is decreasing in terms of church attendance.
While it is great news that young men are coming to church more, it is still disturbing that others are not. Here’s your statement of the obvious: If even Christians are attending church less, then non-believers are attending less than that. Duh!
If non-believers are not hearing the message of the Gospel, how will they know Jesus? By taking the Gospel from the seats of the church to the streets of daily life.
That is as it should be. That is how the Gospel message spread in the beginning. I suppose that means the way forward is by going back…back to the beginning of Jesus’s ministry.
John the Baptist
I’ve been reflecting on John’s account of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry this week (John 1:29-51). Now, that’s some rich Scripture right there! I tell ya’ what…that John the Baptist…he’s got it going on. No, seriously. He really does. He was the first person to take evangelism from the seats to the streets.
Think about it. John the Baptist came from a priestly line. His father, Zechariah, was a priest. That means John was in the priestly line and would have been trained to follow in his father’s footsteps. He was trained to be a Temple priest. As we see in the Gospel accounts, John’s temple was the wilderness and his altar was the Jordan River. Talk about from the seats to the streets!
If anyone knew the significance of a sacrificial lamb, it would be a temple priest. When John the Baptist pointed to Jesus and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God” (John 1:36), it announced the purpose of God in the life of Jesus, and the end of the Temple era and its on-going sacrifices. His was an announcement of the new and living way to life…a new and living encounter of God.
And, John pointed his disciples in the direction of Jesus. That is the role of evangelism…pointing others to Jesus.
As a pastor, I appreciate John’s selflessness, even if I struggle with what that selflessness means. I mean, as a pastor, I want to point others to Jesus, but I don’t want them to follow another preacher in doing so! Revealing my own insecurities here, aren’t I? Jesus’ appearance on the scene meant John was loosing followers. John knew, however, that he wasn’t called to make disciples for himself.
Perhaps that’s a lesson we pastors need to learn. We’re not making disciples for ourselves. We’re not making disciples of our preaching or teaching. The purpose of posting our sermons on YouTube or writing books (or blogs) is not to create a following or build a “platform,” but rather to point others to Jesus.
We would do well to remember our purpose. People come and go in our congregations (they seem to be going more these days). Unless we’ve done something intentionally to drive them away (shame on us if we have), we need to have the humility to not take it personally. We simply ask the question:”Was I faithful in pointing them to Jesus?” That is what matters most.
Here’s the truth pastors: If people are looking for a great preacher, they can find one better than you and me on YouTube (or the internet generally). They can find a more polished preacher. They can find a more charismatic preacher. They can find a better looking preacher, a more educated preacher, a more…well, you fill in the blank.
Pastors, let’s just use the gifts the Lord gives us to point other to Jesus. That’s the model.
Andrew and Philipp
See? Andrew pointed his brother Simon (Peter) to Jesus. There’s a sermon in Andrew’s attitude, too. We’d discover by reading the rest of John’s Gospel that he had a knack for pointing others to Jesus (and he didn’t do it by inviting them to the Temple). And, Philipp too! He pointed Nathaniel to Jesus.
That’s how evangelism works! For evangelism to work properly it must move from the seats of the church to the streets where we live.
I think we missed the lesson we should have learned from the Covid pandemic. Most churches pivoted to online and social media connection. They were forced to shift their focus from the seats to the streets. Once the pandemic passed, many of those same churches reverted to their old ways, hoping everyone would return to their seats. It didn’t happen, and based on current trends, it won’t in the future.
Don’t misunderstand me, though. Don’t stop inviting others to church. It is still true that 80% of the people who attend a church for the first time do so because someone invited them. Invitation still matters.
What will be more impactful in today’s world is for those committed disciples of Jesus Christ to engage others daily with the saving message of life in Jesus Christ in the places where they live and work. Point them to Jesus because of the relationship you have with them.
Evangelism is about relationship. Our relationship to Jesus and our relationship to others. John could point Andrew and John (who would become the Apostle) to Jesus because of their relationship. Andrew could point Peter to Jesus because of their relationship. Philipp could point Nathaniel to Jesus because of their relationship. See why it matters?
Here’s the thing: relationships happen in the streets, not in the seats.
Oh, well! I ramble on. Here’s your takeaway: Wherever you are today, point others to Jesus. That’s your task. The redemption of the world depends on it.
Here I sit in the cold. The ice is covering the ground. My truck is iced in and the roads are impassable. There will be no gathering of the body of Christ at Haughton Methodist Church because no one can get there. Even so, we will worship. Worship is not limited to the gathering of the body of Christ, though it is best when the body is gathered.
I thank the Lord that I still have electricity. There are many in the region who are not as blessed. That will be my starting place for worship this morning. That I still have electricity makes it possible for me to post a blog this morning. I suppose writing is a mode of worship, as well.
I’m reflecting this morning on the lectionary passage for the third Sunday after the Epiphany (that’s today!) as part of my worship.
12 When Jesus heard that John had been put in prison, he withdrew to Galilee.13 Leaving Nazareth, he went and lived in Capernaum, which was by the lake in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali— 14 to fulfill what was said through the prophet Isaiah:
15 “Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— 16 the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”
17 From that time on Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
18 As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 19 “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.”20 At once they left their nets and followed him.
21 Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, 22 and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.
23 Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people. (Matthew 4:12-23 NIV)
Rich stuff, right there! Prophecy. Healings and miracles. Repentance. Wow! What grabs my attention most this morning is “calling.” I see three distinct callings in this passage: the call to faith, the call to discipleship, and the call to ministry.
The Call to Faith
By Matthew’s account, this is the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. He’s been baptized by John and led into the wilderness to be tempted for forty days by Satan. He gets the news that John the Baptist has been arrested, so he heads back to civilization to begin his ministry. It is as Jesus begins his ministry that I find the first calling on a person’s life—the call to faith.
The call to faith is the call to change our mind, and it is the call that all of us, at some point, must answer. Literally, Jesus’ first word in ministry in verse 17 is “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
The New Living Translation says, “Turn from your sin and turn to God.” That is the translator’s interpretation of the meaning of repent. The word means “to change your mind,” and Jesus begins ministry with the call for everyone who hears his voice to change his/her mind. It is a call to turn from sin. It is a call to turn from unbelief to belief. It is a call to turn from death to life.
It’s not vogue to talk about sin. After all, we’re all sinners, and we’re not supposed to judge, and if we talk about sin, we might get too close to judging and we’re good Methodists, so we don’t want to do that. Of course, the alternative is also a possibility. We don’t really think we’re sinners. Culture and modern psychology teach us that we’re good people. It’s the “I’m okay, you’re okay” mentality that makes us say we don’t need to repent…we don’t need faith. Or, we think we’re not as bad a sinner as someone else.
When we think of sin, we think of the Big 10—murder, stealing, lying, adultery, covetousness, those types of things. Or, we think rape, or child abuse, or some other crime that’s easy to acknowledge is wrong. Mass shooters and child rapists? Yup, they are sinners. Me? Naw, I’m not a sinner. I’m a (wait for it…) good person!
Sin, though, as the Bible defines it is anything that misses the mark. That’s what the word means—missing the mark. That image should never diminish the seriousness of sin because the reality is there was a mark and we missed it. We miss the mark in so many areas of our everyday life. Surely, we’re not murdering, or stealing, or lying (at least I hope we’re not), but what about the small things that also reflect on our character?
I think about what our Catholic brothers and sisters have called the seven deadly sins—greed, gluttony, pride, anger, lust, sloth, and envy. The belief is that at the heart of all sin lies one of these. I can think of the times in my life I’ve been greedy, and let’s not even get into gluttony knowing how much I love to eat. I could do my own bullet list for each of these, and I come to realize that even still, I’m one who needs to repent as a matter of faith.
Repentance opens us to grace that God desires to pour into our lives. Repentance is our acknowledgement that something is wrong, that something needs to change. I don’t believe any of us can watch the situation in Minneapolis without thinking there must be something wrong with the world–I don’t care what side of the political aisle you’re on.
We must all answer the call of Jesus to turn from our selfish, sinful ways, to consider the claims that Christ makes, and determine whether we will believe, or continue to go down a path that is ultimately destructive to us and those around us. It’s a call everyone must answer.
Just an FYI…refusing to answer is an answer.
The Call to Discipleship
I see a deeper call in this passage this morning. It is the call Jesus gave to Simon, Andrew, James and John in verse 19. Jesus tells them, “Come, follow me…” This is the call to discipleship.
There are a lot of people who answer the call to faith. They consider the claims of Jesus and find them valid, but then just sort of leave the information there and never go deeper in the life of faith. Jesus’ call to these fishermen was a call to a deeper life, a changed life. We might say that if the call to faith is the call to change our minds, then the call to discipleship is the call to change our lives.
If we read John’s Gospel (which doesn’t record this particular episode) it’s possible that Jesus has already encountered Andrew and Simon, and perhaps even John, as well. Andrew was a disciple of John the Baptist. One day, Jesus walked by and John the Baptist said, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” John the Baptist was saying, “This is the guy I’ve been telling you about.”
Andrew and another disciple scholars believe was John, the son of Zebedee, followed after Jesus. Jesus asked them why they were following him. Let me make a long story short. They hung out with Jesus for a while, then Andrew went and found his brother, Simon, and told him, “We’ve found the Messiah,” and Peter went to meet Jesus. That’s when Jesus told Simon his name would be Peter. Yes, it’s likely they knew Jesus, and more importantly, Jesus knew them, and he called them to a deeper life—to be disciples.
The call to be a disciple is a more challenging call than the call of faith. Jesus said, “Follow me.” It was Jesus’ way of saying, “Do what I do. Walk the way I walk. Imitate me.” The way Jesus was walking was the way of selflessness and sacrifice. Jesus would take the basin at the end of his days, wrap a towel around himself and wash the disciples’ feet, and then go to the cross.
It was not an easy life to which Jesus was calling these men. Discipleship is costly. Discipleship is about making the kingdom of God the priority of our lives. It is a leaving the old life and beginning a new life of faith, hope and love.
There are a lot of people who hear, and even answer, the call to faith, but fewer are the people who hear and answer the call to discipleship, though the call goes out to everyone who answers the call to faith.
Jesus called ordinary, common, hard-working fishermen. Commercial fishing was hard, dangerous work (still is), and the men who did it were simple, not highly educated, hard-working men who only sought to make a living for their families.
It is a reminder to me that Jesus isn’t necessarily looking for well-educated, well-qualified persons to be disciples. Jesus is looking for willing persons, persons who are willing to hear the call to faith and the claims of Jesus, and then be willing to join him in transforming the world. That’s the call to discipleship, and he’s calling all of us to be his disciples.
The Call to Ministry
I see one more deeper call still as I reflect this morning: the call to ministry. I’m not thinking about vocational ministry, but of service in the kingdom of God. Every person who answers the call to be a disciple is called to ministry. Jesus, after inviting these men to “follow” him, adds that he will “show them how to fish for people.” He gave them a job to do. That job? To tell others the Good News.
If the call to faith is a call to change our minds, and the call to discipleship is the call to change our lives, then the call to ministry is the call to change the world by telling others about Jesus. Don’t you think if Jesus could call a few common fishermen to change the world, he could call you and me, as common, ordinary and unprepared as we are? Jesus doesn’t call the qualified. He qualifies the called. Will we answer the call?
Jesus needs Christian businessmen and women who can reach non-Christian businessmen and women. Jesus needs Christian law enforcement officers who can reach non-Christian law enforcement officers. Jesus needs students, and grocery clerks and doctors and nurses and teachers who will go into the places of their lives and witness to His saving grace. Jesus called these hard-working fishermen to reach their community. He’s calling us to reach our community.
Some of you may be afraid that Jesus’ call means you’ll have to pack up and leave your job and family, so you resist. It may mean that for some of us, but the more likely proposition is that he’ll use us right where we are. If we look at the later life of these fishermen, we find after the crucifixion and resurrection they are back mending their nets and fishing. Most of them never ventured far from home, nor gave up their trades. They did, however, make a difference in the Kingdom because the Kingdom became their priority. Telling others, serving others, sharing the Good News became their priority.
Answer the Call
Jesus is calling us to faith, to discipleship and to ministry. He’s calling us to change our minds, to change our lives, and to change the world. Maybe you’ve already answered the call to faith. But, just in case you haven’t, Jesus is calling you to faith today. Answer the call!
Perhaps you haven’t answered the call to discipleship. You know he wants you to go deeper, but you’ve been afraid of the cost of going deeper so you’ve resisted. Answer the call!
Others of you may have gone deeper and fell in love following Jesus, but have resisted serving because you felt you weren’t capable. You are. I can only offer this advice: Answer the call! It will change your life. It will change the world.
It is no secret that I hate reports. When I left full-time ministry, I said to myself, “Self, you’re done with reports.”
What I hate more than reports? Lying to myself! I lied to myself when I said I was done with reports because I just finished my “Pastor’s Report” for the small church where I serve. I suppose if I didn’t want to do reports then I shouldn’t have signed on to pastoring again–even part-time.
I will admit that I was convicted by the report, which I suppose reporting is meant to accomplish. The report asked the question, “What is the Lord currently speaking to you about your personal discipleship?” I must say that I didn’t want to answer the question.
Here’s the answer I gave: “The primary place the Lord is challenging me is in my personal accountability. Since beginning to serve as pastor at Haughton, it has been difficult to stay in a meaningful relationship with my accountability partners. Time and distance have prevented those relationships other than the occasional phone call. The Lord is convicting me to be more intentional in staying connected.”
A Means of Grace
Accountability. That’s my growing edge. Accountability is much easier in full-time vocational ministry. As a bi-vocational pastor, I have struggled to maintain any legitimate accountability relationships. The accountability of reporting brought that reality front and center. Ironic, huh?
I could offer several excellent excuses (time, distance, blah, blah, blah) as justification for allowing my accountability relationships to fall by the wayside, but the truth is personal accountability simply became an afterthought after stepping away from full-time ministry.
I don’t know why that happened. I’m nothing if not Wesleyan in my understanding of grace, and for Wesley, accountability (he called it Christian conferencing) is at the heart of faithful discipleship. Accountability is a means of grace–a means of experiencing the sanctifying grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. I suppose I haven’t been a very faithful disciple in recent years.
Of course, accountability partners are useless unless there is honesty in the process. It’s easy to be dishonest when there’s an issue you want to cover-up. Maybe not even cover-up…one simply doesn’t want to deal with it…so, just don’t say anything.
Accountability and a Fall from Grace
The necessity of honest accountability was brought home, not simply by the accountability of filling out reports, but also by the news that another (yes, one more) popular Christian leader had fallen from his lofty perch. Author and speaker Philip Yancey announced that he was leaving public life after confessing to an eight-year affair.
The news was heart-breaking for me, not only because another prominent Christian was found to be a sinner (like me), but because Yancey’s books were meaningful in my own spiritual development. His book, “What’s So Amazing About Grace?” was published while I was in seminary and was seminal in fleshing out my own understanding of God’s grace. When I left full-time ministry, I actually wrestled with giving my copy of the book away (alas, I did). So, to say the news was disappointing is an understatement.
Of course, the news made me wonder about Yancey’s own accountability. Apparently, it didn’t matter (at least not for eight years), but then again, it only matters if we surround ourselves with true accountability partners and surrender ourselves to the process. See, accountability is real easy to talk about. It is much harder to accomplish.
Surrender to Accountability
I think one reason accountability is so hard is because we have to surrender to it. When we surrender, we are no longer in control, and we like nothing more than we like control. For many of us surrender is not in our vocabulary. Yet, surrender is exactly what we must do if we are to live faithful, Christian lives. Surrender is the essence of becoming the “living sacrifice” that the Apostle Paul mention is Romans 12: 1-2–
“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. 2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
I’m not going to be mad at Yancey for being a sinner (like some people I’ve read). I’m going to remind myself about the grace of which he wrote. I’m also going to remember that Truth is still true even if the Truth is spoken by a flawed messenger. We are all flawed messengers. That’s why we all need grace.
I’m also not going to be mad at God. God didn’t have a thing to do with Yancey’s fall. It was all on Yancey (well, and whoever he had the affair with). This was a them problem, not a God problem. It won’t lessen my faith in Him. If anything, it may strengthen it. It will certainly remind me of my continual need for Him.
What I am going to do is reflect on my own sinfulness and put in place those measures necessary to guard my own heart and mind–surrender means both the mind and the body (see Romans 12 above)–against any possibility this could happen to me. Let’s call it what it is–accountability–honest, frequent, personal accountability. I need it. We all do if we’re going to live faithful lives as disciples of Jesus Christ.
So, I guess those reports that I loathe so much are useful after all. Perhaps my accountability can include confessing to those higher up the food chain than me that I hate their stupid reports. Maybe that will keep me honest to the process? No, probably not. I need to be a little more intentional than that. I need to be a little more surrendered than that.
Let me establish upfront that I am no great prognosticator. As a matter of fact, as best I can remember, I’ve never made a list of predictions before in my life. It is presumptuous, and that is one thing a follower of Jesus Christ should never be. I’m reminded of what the Apostle James wrote to the early Church:
13 Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” 14 Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 15 Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.” 16 As it is, you boast in your arrogant schemes. All such boasting is evil.17 If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them. James 4:13-17 (NIV)
Image created using AI
We can’t predict the next hour with great certainty much less the next year, so it is a bit bold to attempt a list of predictions as we roll into this new year.
So, why embark on such a fool’s task? Well, one, I’m probably a fool, but two, because I have followed the Christian landscape fairly closely over the past few years and I see some things on the horizon that I’m concerned about. Perhaps, then, they are not so much predictions as they are points of interest to watch or look for as the year progesess. I share them so that you might watch with me.
So, without further ado, here are FIVE BOLD PREDICTIONS CONCERNING THE CHURCH IN 2026 (in no particular order):
5) The United Methodist Church will continue to decline.
I hope this doesn’t sound like sour grapes, nor do I wish you to think I relish in this prediction, but this one really is a no-brainer without the direct intervention of the Holy Spirit. The trajectory over the past few years is relatively clear–it’s down and to the right.
That trajectory was hastened by the “disaffiliation” process the denomination instituted a few years ago. Statistics for my old Annual Conference shows a total membership of 53,085 in 2024 (the last year available) and total weekly attendance of 22,281. My final year as a member of the Annual Conference (2019) showed 105,992 membership/104,501 attendance. I’ll grant that Covid occurred in the interim, but so did disaffiliation. Between the two, the Annual Conference saw severe decline.
The number of congregations constituting the Annual Conference also saw a significant decrease during that same period. The denominational statistical website (UMData.org) lists 267 congregations in the Louisiana Annual Conference at the close of 2024. Likewise, at the end of 2019, there were 486 congregations.
By my math (which ain’t great, by the way), that equates to approximately a 50% drop in membership, an over 80% drop in attendance, and a 45% drop in the number of congregations. None of those are encouraging numbers.
According to Google, between 7,600 – 7,900 congregations departed the denomination since 2019. That’s over 25% of all the congregations that once constituted the United Methodist Church. The numbers also don’t tell us how many members were “quiet departures”–meaning they simply left their congregations without fanfare.
Hey? This isn’t new information. The United Methodist Church was in decline pre-Covid and pre-disaffiliation. Both only hastened the process. Long before Covid or disaffiliation, economist Don House warned UMC leadership that collapse was inevitable.
Honestly, the UMC is only going the way of all mainline denominations. The Pew Research Center has catalogued this decline for years. Count the decline to whatever reason you will (there are many and it is complex), failing the Holy Spirit’s intervention, this prediction is rather easy to make.
4) Large churches will get larger and small churches will get smaller.
This prediction, too, is a safe one. Researchers say that overall church attendance is down while megachurch (over 2,000 people in attendance) is up 10%. Here’s what’s happening: Many believers are leaving the small congregation and migrating to the large one.
It’s another example of “consumer” Christianity. For better or worse, it’s a fact and we need to acknowledge it. Church members migrate to the larger churches in favor of programming, activities and events that smaller congregations can’t or don’t have. Also, many people embrace the anonymity that comes by being a part of a large church. One can slip in and slip out un-noticed, and if they leave the congregation no one notices.
Yup, in a megachurch, one never has to look another person in the eye. In a small church, a newcomer may have to navigate (or hope to avoid) every person in the congregation. Talk about no longer living in a culture where that possibility is comfortable is understatement.
Additionally, smaller congregations are “graying,” meaning its members are getting older. When we get older, we don’t attend as often. Illness and mobility limit our participation. It’s a fact of life. Smaller congregations are finding it difficult to replace those graying members. The reasons are, again, diverse and complicated. Failing the Holy Spirit’s intervention, this prediction, too, is an easy one to make.
3) Artificial Intelligence will become more prominent in Christian worship.
I’m really going out on a limb with these predictions, aren’t I? Though it is an easy prediction to make, this one concerns me more than the rest. Why?
The use of Artificial intelligence removes the human element and removing the human element from Christian worship distorts the reality of Christian worship.
Consider this: recently, the number 1 song in Christian worship was written by AI and performed by an AI generated personality (see the story here). There is no Holy Spirit engagement, no human struggle, no human/Divine interaction, no witness/testimony. Each of these are necessary in authentic worship of the Lord.
Yes, I know. The integration of AI is just another use of “technology” in the worship experience, but is it a good one? How about AI writing your pastor’s sermons? Good idea? I don’t think so!
I’ll confess. I have utilized AI in my sermon preparation. It is a great tool to use for research. When I left full-time vocational ministry, I sold (or gave away) the lion’s share of my library. AI has kept me from having to repurchase volumes and volumes of commentaries, dictionaries and the like now that I’m serving bivocationally. As a tool, AI is great. As a replacement for prayer, study and preparation, not so much.
Honestly, AI can probably write a better sermon than I can. I tried it one time (read the results here). It was a very good sermon. No, I did not preach it.
AI can read all the Bible commentaries in the world in seconds, categorize their meanings and spit out a 2,000 word sermon in under a minute. What pastor wouldn’t love to free up 8 – 10 (or more) hours per week to devote to other responsibilities? But, using AI to write one’s sermon is equally as bad as a pastor plagiarizing another pastor’s sermon (which happens far too often, anyway). Then again, wasn’t it Mark Twain who said, “The key to originality is the ability to conceal one’s sources.” Ouch!
Let’s not even mention the impact that AI is going to have on the use of resources that could otherwise be used to promote human flourishing. Do you know how much energy (electricity) these AI data centers are going to need? WE ARE NOT PREPARED FOR THE FULLY FUNCTIONING AI EXPERIENCE!
AI will be the death of the human race. That’s a far more bold prediction than predicting it will be used more in Christian worship. Pastors and lay persons need to seriously assess the use of AI in the body of Christ. We need the Holy Spirit’s intervention if we are to be faithful stewards of this transformative technology.
2) Christian persecution will grow in 2026, especially in the United States.
It was November of last year that saw gunmen enter St. Mary’s Catholic School in Nigeria kidnapping over 300 students and a dozen teachers. Only a few days earlier, attackers targeted a church in Nigeria, killing two and injuring 38 more (story here). These types of attacks are increasing in frequency, so to predict more in 2026 is yet another easy call (see how bold I am?).
For a sampling of areas of persecution, see the Wikipedia statement below:
A little more bold prediction is for the type of persecution that is happening around the world is going to increase in the United States. What some call persecution, others call inconvenience. I see inconvenience soon becoming persecution with the increasing secularization of western culture, and the encroachment of Islamic influence and socialist/communist polices and politicians in our nation.
Examples of the “creeping” nature of this persecution are when churches were forced to close in 2020 while casinos, bars and strip clubs remained open, and the recent legal suits against Christian business owners who refused to serve LGBT+ customers. Okay, so I would have made the cake, but I shouldn’t be forced to or made to pay if I refuse. Need I even mention the targeting by the IRS of Christian non-profits?
Of all of my “bold” predictions, this is the one that is least likely to come to pass (at least I hope it is), but it is, nonetheless, a legitimate possibility.
And for my final prediction…
1) Jesus will continue to save the lost.
Talk about the no-brainer of no-brainers. The Holy Spirit will be active in the Church to make a difference in people’s lives and bring them to a saving relationship with Jesus Christ.
Our task, as disciples, is to live faithful, obedient and holy lives so that the Holy Spirit might actually use us in that process.
Evangelism is a cornerstone of the growth of the Kingdom of God and will be integral to the work the Holy Spirit will do if predictions 4 & 5 are to be avoided in 2026 and beyond. Unfortunately, I am afraid evangelism is no longer in the theological wheelhouse of the mainline church, or in many small congregations (regardless of affiliation).
Let us be diligent in sharing the Gospel because we know the Lord Jesus Christ is still in the saving business. His grace is enough.
I’m 100% certain of this prediction because no liberal, mainline theological drift, no congregational decline, no technology and no persecution can change the power of Jesus Christ to save a life. He is the One who builds His Church. He is the One who transforms lives. The Church, that invisible, eternal body of Christ will continue to grow and make a difference in this old world. How do I know? Because Jesus Himself said so:
“And I say also unto thee, ‘That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it’.” Matthew 16:18 (KJV)
That, my friends, is good news, indeed!
So, none of my predictions were really that bold after all. Well, anyway, here’s to a blessed 2026.
I spend a lot of time looking through my windshield. To pass the time, I listen to a lot of podcasts (and I mean a lot!). I came across one recently entitled “The Roys Report” that peeked my interest, so I gave it a listen.
I came across The Roys Report months ago when I was following news of the fall of several prominent megachurch pastors. I won’t say I’ve been a regular listener of the podcast, but if one pops up that sounds interesting, I give it a listen.
Okay, so the book was a page-turner for me. It is well-written. Latta’s writing style is quite engaging and easy to read, and I would recommend this book to pastors and church leaders who are on the front-lines of ministry in contemporary culture.
Hard Conversations
There are few topics more difficult for Christians to talk about than the failures of the church. I love the church. I’ve been formed by it, baptized in it, comforted and corrected by it. Yet, my own history and experience have taught me that love does not require blindness. Sometimes love requires truth-telling.
Latta attempts to shine light on a truth that many folks find difficult to talk about. Nevertheless, it is a conversation worth having. Reading the book caused me to ask the question: Are we worshiping God, or have we learned to worship the machinery built in His name?
Let me confess that Latta and I are not of the same “tribe.” He is one who is in the process of “deconstructing” his faith (or has completed the process–I’m not really sure after reading the book).
This is not a review of the somewhat new and novel idea of “deconstruction” of one’s faith, but if you’re unfamiliar with the term, you can Goggle it to learn more. Simply put, it is exactly what comes to your mind when you hear the phrase “deconstructing one’s faith.”
Though not of the same tribe, I found some value in reading the work. It does us good to get out of our echo chambers to hear other voices. They cause us to think and possibly find some common ground upon which we might build a relationship.
When Growth Becomes the Measure of Faithfulness
Latta reflects on the rise of the modern megachurch and the ways large congregations have learned to thrive even as church participation in America declines. He points out in the introduction that overall church attendance has fallen by about half over the past 25 years. Yet, while overall attendance has fallen, attendance in the megachurch (weekly attendance greater than 2,000 people) has increased by 10% between 2015 and 2020.
Yes, as Latta points out, the pie is getting smaller, but the megachurch’s piece has gotten larger.
Growth itself, of course, is not the problem. Scripture celebrates growth when it flows from faithfulness. But Latta raises a necessary concern: when numerical success, branding, and influence become the primary measures of God’s blessing, something essential is at risk of being lost.
From a pastoral perspective, this is not simply a critique of church size or style. It is a call to remember that the church is not a product to be managed but a body to be shepherded. Efficiency and excellence can serve the gospel—but they can never replace presence, humility, or accountability.
Listening to the Wounded
Perhaps the most sobering parts of the book are the voices of those who were hurt within church systems that should have protected them. Latta shares stories of people who experienced spiritual manipulation, silencing, and abuse, and who found that institutional loyalty often outweighed compassion, truth and accountability.
These stories deserve our prayerful attention. My pastor’s heart reminds me that the credibility of the church is not measured by attendance numbers or production quality, but by how we treat “the least of these”—especially when listening is inconvenient or costly. Repentance, not reputation management, is the way of Christ.
Of course, my more pragmatic (or cynical) self wants to say, “There are two sides to every story.” We only hear one side of the story in Latta’s book. In fairness, according to Latta, churches and pastors were given opportunity to comment, but most did not respond.
Faith, Power, and Allegiance
Latta also explores the uneasy relationship between some megachurches and political power, particularly the blending of Christian language with nationalist ideology. Viewed through my pastoral lens, my concern is not about political disagreement, but about ultimate allegiance. When loyalty to leaders, movements, or ideologies begins to eclipse allegiance to Christ, the church’s witness becomes distorted.
The church has always lived in tension with worldly power. The danger comes when that tension disappears—when the cross is replaced by the quest for influence, and when winning matters more than loving.
A Call to Self-Examination, Not Cynicism
While Gods of the Smoke Machine is clearly critical of the state of the American megachurch, I think Latta painted with a very broad brush. The focus of the book really is upon a very few megachurches and their pastors. He says very little about the majority of churches (there are approximately 1,800 megachurches in the U.S.) and pastors who are faithful to the Gospel and do their best to love one another.
Not to despair, though. The book became for me an invitation to self-examination. Not every church is a megachurch, and not every leader is compromised—but every Christian community must regularly ask hard questions about power, transparency, faithfulness and yes, accountability (there’s that word again).
This book challenges pastors, elders, and congregants alike to consider whether our structures reflect the character of Christ or simply the efficiencies of modern institutions. It urges us to remember that the Spirit of God is not manufactured by lighting cues, smoke machines or emotional crescendos, but is present where there is truth, repentance, and love (oh, and accountability).
Reading with Hope
Ultimately, Gods of the Smoke Machine is a book best read slowly, prayerfully, and with humility. It may stir grief, anger, or recognition. But it can also stir hope—hope that the church can still choose a better way, and that reform is possible when the people of God are willing to listen, repent, and return to the simplicity of the gospel.
For pastors, church leaders, and thoughtful Christians, this book offers an opportunity not to abandon the church, but to love it more faithfully—by seeking the health of Christ’s body rather than the success of its machinery.
There is a bit of the prophetic in the work. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), that prophetic word is coming from one outside the church (well, one who left the church). I don’t know if that makes him an outside insider or an inside outsider. Either way, it will do we leaders well to listen to that prophetic word and take it seriously.
I’ve been reading and praying over Micah’s prophecy this Advent season:
2 “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.”
3 Therefore Israel will be abandoned until the time when she who is in labor bears a son, and the rest of his brothers return to join the Israelites.
4 He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness will reach to the ends of the earth.
5 And he will be our peace…
I don’t know whether to call it divine providence or serendipity that it so happened as Advent is drawing to a close that this passage is part of my “Bible in a Year” reading plan. I shouldn’t be surprised because Micah’s prophecy lies near the end of the Old Testament and the year is almost gone, so..
I still prefer to think it divine providence, though.
God in the Small Places
Bethlehem seems like such an odd place. It really wasn’t known for much of anything in those days, so much so that Micah even says it was “small among the clans of Judah.” It’s that idea of small that has captured my attention this Advent.
When I think of Bethlehem, I can’t help but think of Eros, LA, that place I served my first full-time appointment in ministry. There wasn’t much in Eros (still isn’t) in those days. Not a stop light. Stop light? There wasn’t (isn’t) even a flashing caution light. Not many people either. A couple of hundred as best I recall. Simply a little country town with little significance. That was Bethlehem, too.
Bethlehem reminds me that God chooses to do His greatest work in the most unlikely places. The “small” places of life.
We live in a world obsessed with size, speed, power and recognition–a world where young people want to be known as “influencers” and we all want more “followers,” and we want to grow our “platform.” Bethlehem reminds me that God will do His deepest work in quiet obedience, unseen prayers and simple acts of kindness that only heaven sees.
Presence over Power
Bethlehem also reminds me that peace doesn’t come from power–it comes from presence. Micah says, “And He will be our peace…”
We live in a world where anxiety runs rampant. I am reminded that peace is not the absence of conflict but the presence of Christ. We can live in Bethlehem-sized circumstances (small paycheck, small church, small town, small family, small circle of friends), but we can have peace that is vast and deep when Jesus reigns in our hearts.
Bethlehem reminds me, too, that the humble road is still the holy road. Humility is the soil where redemption grows. I am reminded of what James said–“God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6).
In every generation, He looks for people willing to say, “Lord, I am small but You are great. Use me however you will.” When we accept our smallness, God’s greatness shines through.
Living in Bethlehem
Bethlehem, this small little hamlet tucked deep in the heart of Judah, was part of God’s unfolding plan. Granted it was just one chapter, but what an important chapter it was. Bethlehem reminds me that the Church is the continuation of what began there. Just as Jesus was born in Bethlehem through Mary, Jesus is now revealed through us, His body. We are called to be spiritual Bethlehems–places where the presence of Christ is made known to the world.
I like to believe the presence of Christ can be made known through the small church. The church I pastor is a small church, indeed, but I believe the power of God that was present in Bethlehem will be present in us if we live in humble, faithful obedience to the Lord Jesus Christ. I look forward to seeing the great things He will do with our little church.
The Bread of Life
Finally, Bethlehem reminds me that the world still needs the “bread of Life (John 6: 35). Bethlehem means “house of bread.” Out of the house of bread comes the bread of life. Our world is starving—not for carbohydrates, but for meaning, peace, and truth.
Every Christian today bears the calling to feed the hungry hearts around them with the Bread of Life. Whether you’re a teacher, mechanic, pastor, or parent, your life becomes a Bethlehem when Christ uses you to nourish others with His love and truth.
Bethlehem isn’t just a quaint Christmas scene, but rather a reminder that God’s unstoppable, unshakable Kingdom comes in un-noticed ways and un-noticed places. Bethlehem was the first stop on the way to the cross. Bethlehem was the first stop on the way to the resurrection. We can’t get to glory without Bethlehem.
It is in Bethlehem that the small becomes sacred and the ordinary becomes eternal. If your faith feels small this Christmas I have one word for you–Bethlehem! Jesus Christ is still in the business of entering dark nights with shining light and bringing peace to all who welcome Him.
Not the Perfect Pastor 