Category Archives: Religion in General

No Tears Shed for the Pastoral Prayer, RIP

One thing I don’t miss is the pastoral prayer. It was a childhood bane, something I dreaded every Sunday. I’d stand there shifting from one foot to another as the preacher droned on and on, lifting up every health need, from heart operations to ingrown toenails, and every ministry of the church, and “everyone gathered here today,” and bestowed numerous flowery compliments on God for his sundry attributes and his patience with us ne’er-do-wells, on and on and on. Fifteen minutes seemed to be the minimum length, else it wasn’t worth God’s time to listen.

And yes, it was necessary that we parishioners stand while the pastor was talking to God on our behalf. God, evidently, looks askance at parishioners who sit down while someone else is praying, and he withholds his blessing from that church. It was as if it’s better to focus on your poor aching feet than on actually praying. Some preachers feel the same way about public Bible reading‚Äîthat everyone must stand when Scripture is being read, because it really impresses God and proves that we are spiritual warriors. If you read Scripture while sitting, it just means you don’t respect the Bible.

Maybe once every other month, six times a year tops, the pastor would allow us to sit during his pastoral prayer. As we proceeded through our usual routine of hymns and throw-away prayers, and the moment of the high-priestly pastoral prayer approached, I would find myself hoping, “Please, oh please let us sit today!” Alas, I was nearly always disappointed. But it’s good to have hope.

I grew up in the 1960s and early 1970s, when women wore very high heels to church because, I guess, guys liked them. So lengthy pastoral prayers could be quite an ordeal for women, though perhaps that was part of God’s plan‚Äîafter all, they have pain in childbirth because a woman sinned first, so standing for 15 minutes in high heels is just more of the same just punishment for Eve’s transgressions. One of my distinct, recurring childhood memories involves our family’s drive home from church, and hearing Mom say something like, “I didn’t think he would ever stop praying. My feet were killing me.” I suspect the same sentiments were voiced in numerous other cars as long-suffering high-heel wearers headed home to pot roasts.

Anyway, the churches I’ve attended since 1989 haven’t featured the pastoral prayer. I don’t know if God is glad about that, but I am.

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The Green Prosperity Prayer Cloth

Yesterday morning I woke up at 4 am and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I came out to the computer in the living room and worked a bit on my sermon for Sunday. But that’s not what I did first. First, I located the remote. Hey, I’m a guy. I checked the weather channel, then surfed around for a bit. And I stumbled upon a TV preacher named Don Stewart.

Don StewartHe was hawking his Green Prosperity Prayer Cloth, which would bring physical healing and financial prosperity. The TV showed crusades where numerous people were waving the amazing Green Prosperity Prayer Cloth, and they all seemed happy, healthy, and rich. This miracle-working cloth was available for free, just like salvation is free, so it’s obviously biblical. I checked out his website.

As I learned, this Green Prosperity Prayer Cloth has been personally blessed and anointed by Don Stewart. I don’t know if this anointing occurred before or after the actual cut cloth emerged in 12-inch squares from the Guatemala sweatshop; it would be a shame if the anointing occurred afterwards, and those poor workers, though in constant contact with these cloths, missed the value-added blessing and therefore remain destitute. But God doesn’t really care about those Guatemalans, because his focus is on making Americans happy and rich. And evidently some non-Americans, too, because the website says, “Thousands of people around the world have used this Biblical point of contact prayer cloth to receive abundant blessings of financial prosperity.”

I’m wondering if God awakened me at 4 am specifically to alert me to the power of Green Prosperity Prayer Cloths, so that I would change my sermon to fit this new discovery. Yes, I’m that impulsive. Since Indiana is a hard-core red state, maybe I could buy a bolt of red cloth, cut it into squares, and pass them out to people at Anchor as our own Red Prosperity Prayer Cloth. By the end of the year we would all be rich, and the church could hire more staff.

Well, I probably won’t do that, apart from heavenly thunderbolts. But I did feel compelled to send away for my free Green Prosperity Prayer Cloth. All I needed was to submit a prayer request. Turns out that Jordi, who loves being outdoors in the grass, has taken to meowing in protest when I bring him inside. Meanwhile Molly, the alpha cat, growls and hisses at Jordi a lot, and sometimes slaps him on the head with a paw for no apparent reason, other than to assert her dominance. This is most disturbing. So I sent Don Stewart this prayer request:

“I need wisdom regarding our two kids, Jordi and Molly, who seem to be entering a period of rebellion. Nothing I’ve done works. Jordi openly protests my authority, and Molly is sometimes abusive toward her younger brother. This is very upsetting. My wife and I are both frustrated. We feel we’ve been good parents, but something is happening which is beyond our control, so we need prayer for this situation which seems to keep getting worse.”

Turns out Rev. Stewart has a “Miracle Mountain of Prayer” where he takes prayer requests. I need to look into getting a prayer mountain for Anchor. It might be difficult to find one in Indiana.

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God Created. Beats Me How.

I honestly don’t know what I think regarding evolution and how God created the earth. I’ve never voiced that, partly because conservative evangelicals enthralled with this subject are quick to hurl charges of “He doesn’t believe the Bible.” Such charges make me want to, uh, hurl. However, much to my delight (and possibly to my detriment), this doesn’t threaten me anymore, which is why I’m outing myself from the evolutionary cave. So feel free to hurl away.

The honest truth is that none of the creation explanations work for me. In all intellectual honesty, I cannot ignore the fossil and geological and glacier record, continental drift, carbon dating, the new findings in genome research, and so many other things that point to a very old earth. So all of the “young earth” explanations don’t click with me, though people do make some incredibly acrobatic jumps through chaotically twirling hoops. This is very entertaining to watch and well worth the cost of admission.

The literal seven-day creation approach doesn’t satisfy me. Creation science doesn’t cut it, either. Theistic evolution actually strikes some positive cords with me, but it also strikes some resoundingly dissonant cords which I cannot reconcile with scripture. I like a lot of stuff in the Intelligent Design field, though those arguments don’t necessarily rely on a particular understanding of Genesis–just the realization that the complexity of the universe and of earth’s ecosystem required some god-sized thought. But how and when God did it–beats me.

So, accuse me of being a person who doesn’t “believe the Bible.” But I don’t think any of the explanations advanced so far have got it right. This will probably be one of those things that will have to wait for heaven, just as Job never received an explanation for why he underwent his trials. Or consider Jesus. The Jews knew all the Scripture about the Messiah, but never dreamed the Messiah would look and act anything like Jesus did–and yet, in retrospect, those very same verses fit Jesus, and the Bible’s integrity is reaffirmed. You just have to put the puzzle together in a whole different way.

In heaven, when someone asks God how he created the heavens and earth, he’ll probably say, “None of you were even close to getting it right.” Then he’ll explain it, and it’ll all make sense and be perfectly consistent with Scripture. That’s what I think.

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Recycling the Same Stuff

I really like the book “Velvet Elvis.” It’s author, Rob Bell, is pastor of the Mars Hill church in Michigan, a different kind of megachurch. We’ll be hearing more about him in the years ahead. He’s probably the Bill Hybels of the postmodern generation. But my first real exposure was through “Velvet Elvis.”

One part, though, made me mad.

In one of his later chapters, Bell described the educational system in Jesus’ day. This was fascinating. From roughly age 6 to age 10, kids studied the Torah (the first five books of the Old Testament) at the local synagogue under a rabbi’s teaching. By age 10, most students would have those five books memorized. So Jesus went through this process.

The best students went on to the next level, which lasted until around age 14. The other students “dropped out” and learned the family trade. No dishonor in that. By age 14, these better students might have the entire Old Testament memorized. Jesus, I’m confident, did.

After age 14 or 15, only the best of the best remained; the others went back to the family business. These best-and-brightest students would apply to become a disciple of a rabbi, learning to copy that rabbi in every way. The rabbi would grill the kid to see if he was worth the investment. If accepted, the kid would join that rabbi’s band of disciples and follow him everywhere.

Then, about the age of 30, you would be considered a rabbi and would begin your own teaching and training of disciples. That, of course, is when Jesus began his public ministry. But Jesus, instead of choosing from the “best of the best,” chose lowly fishermen who probably washed out at age 10. In the eyes of other rabbis, he probably chose poorly.

All of this is fascinating background and sheds enormous light on Jesus’ childhood and the whole nature and perception of his public ministry.

And that’s what makes me mad.

Why hadn’t I ever heard this before? I’ve sat through thousands of sermons and Sunday school classes and seminars, and I’ve never heard this. This is a fundamental understanding of Jewish culture and rabbinical ministry, and it illuminates so much of what was happening with Jesus and his merry band of followers. Do we just keep regurgitating the same information? Hadn’t anyone bothered to explore education in Jesus’ time?

I’ve got a stack of books by Christians about how to lead small groups. They all say basically the same thing‚Äîsame principles, same advice, same methods (except for Em Griffin, who does plow new ground). One time I was in a public library and discovered some secular books on small group dynamics. I browsed through a couple and discovered all kinds of stuff I’d never seen before. Fascinating insights into group behavior. Do Christian authors just keep recycling and repackaging stuff already written by other Christian authors?

Well, thanks, Rob Bell, for teaching me something truly new. Assuming that your info is accurate.

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Hippies, Tongues, and Missing the Point

My first real exposure to the Jesus Revolution came in 1972, sometime during my 9th grade year. That experience also taught me that sometimes, even the wisest adults don’t know squat.

I lived in Lake Havasu City, Ariz., and attended a vibrant, growing UB church that was doing most things right. I loved the youth group, and loved my youth pastor, Jack Wade, a former Campus Crusade worker who influenced me significantly.

One night we all bundled into cars and traveled the 40 miles to Needles, Calif., where a Christian rally was being held. That’s Needles as in, “Well I headed for Las Vegas / Only made it out to Needles.” Pastor Marvin Price, Jack Wade, my dad, and probably several other adults accompanied us to Needles High School, where a bunch of sound and music equipment occupied the middle of the football field.

The music was loud Christian rock music, something new to Sheltered Stevie. Our church was progressive in many ways, but not in music. But it was not a concert. It was more of a worship service. For probably the first time in my life, I sang worship songs to the accompaniment of a full rock band. I tell you–it really grabbed my heart, like nothing I had experienced before. It connected. The preacher, probably just another hippie who found Christ, spoke not necessarily with eloquence, but with conviction and urgency. Again, my heart leaped with something I couldn’t explain. I caught glimpses into a whole new level of Christian living, and my heart yearned for it.

An altar call was given. As people went forward, the band sang and the preacher prayed and talked. And as he talked, he occasionally lapsed, just briefly, into another language. It was my first exposure to speaking in tongues. He didn’t make a show of it. A few words, then it was gone. And I remember the words, burned into my mind like it was yesterday. It sounded just like this: “Shone alamos.” Whatever that means.

But that was a sideline, not something I focused on. Rather, I found myself overwhelmed with the newness of this whole experience–the drums and screaming guitars, the long-haired hippie preacher, the urgency and depth of his message, and the overwhelming way in which I sensed the Holy Spirit’s presence in that gathering. It was incredibly real to me, unlike anything I had experienced before (though I’ve had many such experiences since then).

Well, afterwards we headed back to Lake Havasu and were directed into the fellowship hall, where we sat around on the floor. Dad told me, while we were still outside, “Pastor Price wants to talk to everyone about something.” “What?” I asked. “About speaking in tongues.” And I wasn’t even sure what he meant.

Some denominational tussles over tongues in our California churches had embroiled Pastor Price to some extent. Now his whole youth group had just been exposed to someone speaking in tongues, and he felt compelled to talk to us about that. So he did. Now, I heard years later that Pastor Price himself prayed in tongues, but it was purely a private thing; he never emphasized it, never preached about it, never encouraged it publicly. He just privately practiced it. So he knew what he was talking about. We teenagers received a doctrinally sound, balanced presentation about speaking in tongues. Pastor Price did a fine job. He beautifully answered questions I wasn’t asking.

You see, this incredible man of God totally missed the point. So did Jack Wade and my dad. The three most influential men in my life at that point. My mind was still back on that football stadium, still wondering:

“What was that?!?”

I was thinking about the incredible new way I sensed the Holy Spirit in that meeting, and how much I loved experiencing worship with my generation’s style of music. The adults totally missed this. Lousy antennae. The style just wasn’t their cup of tea, or maybe the Holy Spirit simply didn’t target them.

I think about that as I’m around today’s teens and young adults. I may participate in a gathering and find myself concerned about some theological issue, or perhaps a lack of Bible content, or something else. That may be all I see, as a 49-year-old, and I may downplay the event’s value. Meanwhile, a 20-year-old could be experiencing direct contact with the Holy Spirit and wondering, “What’s going on here?!?” Where I see shallowness, he may be thinking, “Wow! They are so genuine! So real!”

So on one hand I can take some pride in five decades of accumulated wisdom, experience, theological knowledge, and general spiritual discernment. But on the other hand, I need the humility to recognize that in contexts related to today’s emerging generations, I can sit amidst them and yet be totally blind to what God is actually doing. If a spiritual giant like Marvin Price can miss it, then I sure can.

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The 1300

Yesterday at the ChurchMedia.Net conference, I heard an amazing message which, even now, chokes me up. A guy named Paul Clifford, a techie who says he speaks in public probably three times a year, talked about developing a passion for evangelism. Paul is a skinny guy with long gray hair and sincere eyes. I sat in an earlier seminar in which he spoke for a bit, and I glimpsed a man with a real heart for God. As Paul began this keynote, I shot up a quick prayer, asking God to inspire me through Paul. My goodness, did God deliver on this one.

Paul mentioned that he spends Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights at the church or doing church-related things, and then comes to church on Sunday at 6 am and doesn’t leave until 2 pm. He’s working behind the scenes. That’s where you find the techies. The “Men in Back.”

Paul said, “People ask why I follow this kind of schedule, why I give so much time to my church.” He said he produced a little video which explained why.

The video was entirely text, no pictures. It began with a brief message saying that Quest church, during its seven years, had seen 1300 people come to Christ. Then the screen changed, and all you saw was the month. I think it started at “June 1999.” Then it switched to “July 1999.” Then “August 1999.” At some point–I don’t remember the month–a name flashed horizontally across the screen. That was a person who had found Christ. This continued, month by month, and while there were still months with no names, they became infrequent, and the number of names in a single month might be 20, 30, or more. The names would quickly cross the screen, both left-to-right and right-to-left. Month by month, year by year, we watched‚Äîspellbound, in my case‚Äîas we saw the names of people who had come to Christ. Sometimes it was just a first name, usually a whole name.

By the time we came to 2006, scores of names were flashing across the screen every month‚Äîjust a big blur of names. In March, during two Sundays, over 100 people found Christ. We finally came to “June 2006,” and the video ended. We all looked at Paul. He was choked up, but after a few seconds he got control of his voice and told us, “That’s why I do what I do. It’s such an honor to be part of something like that.” Paul told us that 89% of their converts are adults. Wow.

Even as I write this, my eyes are watering up, and I could probably just start bawling without much effort. Who wouldn’t want to give everything they had to be part of something like that?

FYI, this is Quest Community Church, in Lexington, Kent. They describe their passion as “transforming unconvinced people into wholehearted followers of Jesus.” The website says, “Today at Quest you’ll find people at all points along their spiritual journeys: cynics, skeptics, seekers, and followers of Jesus. Most are attracted by several things: authentic relationships, people who live beyond themselves, creative communication, and a ‘come as you are’ spirit. Do these things appeal to you as well? Welcome to Quest.”

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The People in the Background

This Church Media conference can be a crack-up. It was supposed to begin at 10 am with a worship band, but the event leader said, “In true media ministry fashion, we’ll start a little late because some new songs are being added at the last minute.”

This is a conference of techies, guys who really know their stuff. But they had sound hiccups, some video issues, a guitar that didn’t want to connect with the sound system. I even spotted a misspelling on a PowerPoint slide.

But I tell you–we had a great time of worship. I loved it. The bass guitarist reminded me a bit of Adam Clayton, the way he moved. And speaking of moved–I was. Moved, that is. It’s nice, occasionally, to be in the audience.

Pam and I both love this conference. Today was superb. I heard three messages dealing with using metaphor in worship. Just outstanding. We’ll head back down to Indy in the morning for the final day. Again, it’ll start with worship, and I’m really really looking forward to it. The band wasn’t anything special–I’ve heard better. But there’s something about it….

A thread I’ve heard several times from speakers concerns servanthood. These tech guys serve behind the scenes, out of the limelight (unlike us musicians, whom they make sound good). They emphasize having the right attitude, doing it for the ministry, not for recognition. Several have told about how they get to church at 6 am and don’t leave until 2 pm. And hardly anyone is aware of the time they put in. These are extremely capable people, volunteering gobs of time out of passion, and not caring about getting credit. What a wonderful example.

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Does Your Christian Life Require an Explanation?

Jordi has an insatiable appetite for being outside. If we are home, and there is an ounce of daylight, he believes he is entitled to be outside. And he meows incessantly until we (usually I–Pam’s tougher than me) give in. Jordi cannot be allowed outside unattended, because he will wander into neighbors’ yards, or run full-speed into them in pursuit of a rabbit or chipmunk. So we put a purple collar on him, with a bell which alerts us to his movements, and then go sit on the patio or in the grass to watch him while he stalks innocent animals, occasionally ushering him back within the boundaries of our property.

Thanks to Daylight Savings Time, we spend enormous chunks of time outside watching Jordi. A thunderstorm is a welcome treat, because he detests getting wet and shows no desire to go outside. But those are rare treats, it seems. And besides, I actually enjoy watching him. I grab a book and pen and go lay in the grass out back.

I spent a big piece of Friday outside with Jordi. Pam gets off at noon on Friday and I get off at 1 pm, so that’s nice. The temperature was in the 90s, too hot to do yardwork. So, with Jordi following me around the house, meowing and rubbing against me–not so much marking his territory as trying to subjugate it–I chose a new book, located a pen, and headed outside. And whiled away much of the rest of the day there, just laying in the grass. (Jordi, by the way, raced into the neighbor’s yard and caught a robin, which we convinced him to release after he had proudly carried it into our yard. It appeared unharmed.)

The book was Jim Wallis’s Call to Conversion, a 1981 book which he updated after 9/11. I read the whole thing on Friday. Now, I’m not gonna give it a ringing endorsement. The first chapter, the foundational chapter, didn’t totally click with me. And neither did the last two chapters. But in between was some great stuff, particularly as Wallis addressed poverty, injustice, peace-making, and the church in general. I’ve always appreciated Wallis’s writings. He founded the Sojourners community in Washington D.C., a “commune” type thing which focuses on social matters while remaining doctrinally evangelical (though many evangelicals dismiss them as liberals). He’s good on TV news shows. I’d much rather have him representing Christians than Dr. Jerry.

His second chapter deals with how Christians and churches have conformed to the world. And he takes this to an extent which would make most United Brethren either uncomfortable or guilt-ridden. Walls says what we’ve all heard countless times–that the lifestyle of Christians isn’t much different than that of nonChristians. He then calls for the church to be a community of believers that is noticeable to outsiders, noticeable because they are different–different enough to require an explanation. We notice the Amish; people ask questions about how they live, and the reasons behind their lifestyle must be explained. But who asks questions about how Christians live? NonChristians can look at the typical evangelical church without ever thinking, “These people are different. I wonder why?” Very little about us cries out for explanation.

It would be easy to gang up on the larger, richer churches, pointing to them as having conformed to the world. I certainly felt the world’s seductions (materialism, status, pride) more strongly at a large church. But I admit–very reluctantly–that there’s nothing special about how people at my smaller, poorer church live. Nothing about us that hints at a “peculiar people.” I doubt that unsaved visitors leave our doors wondering, “What makes Anchor people so different?”

Wallis says, “Modern evangelists must go through endless contortions to convince people that they are missing something that Christians have. Without the visible witness of a distinct style of life, evangelists must become aggressive and gimmicky, their methods reduced to salesmanship and showmanship.”

Wallis isn’t calling for Christians to adopt legalistic rules or for everyone to form communes. He’s more interested in Christians emulating the love and community of the early Christians, who “were known for the way they lived, not only for what they believed.” At Anchor, we’re probably known for being friendly and accepting, but I doubt that we as a people are known for how we live. Walls says our contemporary worship includes God, but also includes other “gods” with which we’ve made Christianity compatible, particularly the pursuit of wealth (which you do see more in some churches) and a sense of being culturally relevant. “We want God’s life, but we want the good life, too. We seem to believe that we can pay homage to our many cultural idols and still retain our integrity as God’s people.” I don’t know about you, but that cuts deep in my niche of the world.

In our quest for converts, we water down the gospel, make it easy and attractive. But Wallis points to the conversion of Zaccheus, who immediately made reparations to the poor. Zaccheus obviously heard, from Jesus, more than “accept me into your heart and you’ll go to heaven.” He turned his life over to Christ, but also radically changed his lifestyle. And for years to come, people no doubt asked, “I’ve known Zaccheus for years. What made this change in his life?” An explanation was needed.

Do people ask why I’m different? Why my church is different? Is an explanation needed?

Well, that was among the best chapters in Call to Conversion. I can’t begin to describe the power and prophetic nature of his chapter on injustice.

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Can’t See the Neighbors for the Trees

I’m a bit disturbed right now. I’m spending the morning at home, waiting for the water softener guy to come. And out back, behind the house to our south, two guys are chainsawing two perfectly good trees and grinding them up in a noisy wood chipper. This makes no sense to me. I almost went out and told them that. “Those are superb trees. Leave them alone.”

But now only stumps remain, and all is quiet.

When we moved into this house, a field was in back of our property. That afforded privacy not always available in the suburbs. But during the past six years or so they’ve been building houses in the field. One of the few lots left is directly behind us. And it looks like they’re getting ready to build.

We knew, years ago, that this day would come. So we’ve been planting trees and bushes at the back of our property, a privacy barrier between us and our eventual neighbor. We have bushes on the side of our house to shield us from those neighbors. They’ve planted similar bushes. This is the valuable function that plants provide. Welcome to the suburbs.

And now, some idiots have cut down two mature trees, two wonderful privacy barriers. What’s with that?

Then I thought of a few paragraphs I read last night in The Irresistible Revolution, a highly subversive book by Shane Claiborne which I fear will chainsaw my conscience for a long time. He said that as our culture makes personal property “private” property–meaning, our home is a sanctuary, and we don’t want to be disturbed there–then corporate meeting places become more important. Which is why we spend millions on our sacred shrines. The early church of Acts met in homes, they shared, they were hospitable. Lots of home-to-home stuff. No castle sanctuaries there. So they didn’t need separate buildings. Homes sufficed.

Claiborne writes, “So as congregations build larger buildings, gyms, and food courts, we find ourselves less likely to meet in homes and kitchens and around dinner tables. We end up centralizing worship on corporate space or ‘on campus.’ Hospitality becomes less of a necessity and more of an optional matter, a convenient privilege. On the other hand, as members open their homes and yards and share vehicles and recreation spaces, less and less corporate property is necessary.”

I suspect that the early apostles would have chainsawed those trees, just to increase their access to the neighbors.

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George Barna Invents a Revolution

I finally got around to reading George Barna’s “Revolution,” a controversial little tome. Our bishop sent a copy to all UB pastors, and it upset some of them. Which I can understand. The book upset me. Barna, in a passive-aggressive way, basically cheers for the demise of the local church. He predicts that in the next 20 years, today’s churches will lose a huge percentage of their people, as those parishioners seek spiritual fulfillment outside of the church. This is his “Revolution,” a fundamental change in the American religious landscape. In this new world, Barna seems to contend, the truly spiritual warriors will be the people who abandon the church. What a delightful theory.

This is not a new idea to me. In 1993 I read William Hendricks wonderful book “Exit Interviews: Revealing Stories of Why People are Leaving Church.” The book told the stories of a number of actual people with real names (something Barna doesn’t do), helping us understand their spiritual journey and why they left the church, and how they keep the flame alive. It greatly broadened my view of how God sometimes chooses to work.

[Warning: This is a long post. Excrutiatingly long. Full of half-baked opinions flavored with heaping tablespoons of ignorance, subjectivity, and general immaturity. You’re advised to stop. Right now. Seriously.]

We’ve all met nonChristians who say, “I’m not interesting in becoming a Christian, because I’ve known so many Christians who are hypocrites.” And we say, “Don’t give up on Christianity because of Christians.”

Barna basically affirms the thought, “I’m not interesting in being part of a local church, because too many local churches are ineffective.” To which I say, “Find a good church. They exist everywhere.”

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