Stories
Kudzu
Kudzu has been called “the vine that ate the South.” It can grow up to a foot in one day and canopy it’s tendrils over everything in its path. To say that Kudzu is an invasive species is like saying Martin Short is a little dramatic.
Like kudzu, bad theology creeps its way into homes, devours families, and kills the surrounding culture. How? It’s a shallow view of the gospel that can depend more on fear and shame as its mode of operation than hope. I witness this every day as I visit these small communities in Southern Appalachia.
Before I moved to these hills, I was told that small towns and rural places, though dotted with churches around every bend, were gospel deserts. Upon our arrival my wife and I couldn’t get away from gospel talk. It was in the music at thrift stores, around diner tables, and even in a local brewery. I began to doubt that we had moved to a place that needed Jesus . . . until we started visiting churches.
I want to be clear as I write this . . . Jesus is preached in many of these churches. Very emphatically we are told that we need Jesus and that He is the only way to salvation. But much of what we have heard is a half gospel. It’s half the good news. What is desperately lacking is a gospel that transforms lives through and through with a robust message of healthy and vital sanctification, or, growth in a relationship with Jesus.
Paul wrote to the churches in the region of Galatia (now Turkey), confounded by their lack of trust in the complete sufficiency of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection on their behalf. Their particular temptation was to listen to some Jewish folk who thought that to be a true follower of Jesus meant you also had to have the mark of a Jewish person . . . you had to be circumcised. Paul says that if circumcision is a requirement for salvation than you might as well cut yourself off from Jesus (Paul is quite the wordsmith):
“O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?” (Galatians 3:1-3 ESV).
“I wish those who unsettle you would emasculate themselves!” (Galatians 5:12).
Is Jesus sufficient or not? That’s the question at the root of Paul’s concern. Writing to the young pastor, Timothy, he says that there are those in the church who deny the power of Christ (2 Timothy 3:5) because they are adding their own power, as if their contribution makes the gospel better. They may be teachers, disciples, and professors of Christ but they are missing a vital component of who He is! They are attempting to add to what Christ did, thus diminishing the fullness of what He accomplished. Just because your vehicle needs oil, it doesn’t make your car run better by putting more oil than is necessary. In fact, it harms the car.
What is the harm done? If we are dependent on our flesh to perfect ourselves then we will produce a veneer of spiritual fervor undergirded by deep-rooted anger, bitterness, jealousy and outward works of gossip, backbiting, and self-righteousness. To maintain our outward appearance we must protect and defend at all cost leaving a wake of the destruction of others.
How do we beat back this deathly vine? It must be devoured, roots and all, by the truly powerful and sufficient fullness of Christ. That is the only remedy.
We must preach, teach, and lead people to Christ’s “It is finished” and away from their, “I can do more.” We must remember what Christ’s has fully accomplished and live in the freedom of that accomplishment.
These Inefficient Mountains
At a pastor’s gathering in the heart of downtown Atlanta a few months back, a friend of mine had come through our area en route to the gathering. Chuckling, he commented, “Mountains are so inefficient.” I get it. And . . . his comment triggered some thoughts.
Roads are relentlessly curvy. Cell calls are dropped frequently. Emergency services are limited. No one goes back to town after they go home for the evening. Four wheel drive is, many times, necessary. Your GPS route says 15 miles equals 40 minutes. Mountains are inefficient if you are attempting efficiency.
What is efficiency? One definition is “maximizing productivity with minimum waste of effort or expense.” Ministering within many contexts (maybe all contexts?), like the mountains, means embracing the inefficiency.
Twenty-first century church planting seems to accentuate efficiency. In the denomination in which I serve, a common practice I have witnessed is that a church planter is given three years of partial finances (the rest is raised by the church planter) before their core group should be self-sufficient and able to support a pastor and ministry budget. There is pressure to be producing and to be efficient.
This race to procure a fast return on investment, I believe, encourages re-gathering Christians from other churches and communities to start the church. When this occurs, the pastor and church become more about indulging the past re-gathered Christian’s experience with church offerings for their children, women, and men than about building relations with those who do not know Christ, introducing them to Jesus and His Church, and discipling them toward growth in grace. Often, the “maximizing productivity with minimum waste of effort and expense” becomes, simply, “maximizing productivity.” No expense of time, energy, or resources is spared as the church becomes ingrown and the pastor worn out as soon as it is up and running.
In this mountain context there is a forced slow-down. This snail’s pace has been a welcome and beneficial mode of operation for ministry. I’m finding that the inefficiency has actually provided mental space and heart space to learn the culture and people in a deeper and more reflective way than I have previously experienced. Drive-time has forced me to pray more and dream more about ways to serve these communities. I’m having more and longer conversations with people over coffee, in parking lots, and in driveways.
When did pastors lose the time, space, and ability to be present without the pressure of producing quick results and more “ministry programs?”
It has not been easy to adjust. I find myself trying to hurry and get to . . . whatever I feel like I need to get to (usually imaginary) . . . and drop whatever conversation I’m in. It has taken a conscience effort to tell myself, “What’s the hurry?” and live in the current conversation and relationship.
What does inefficiency produce? It depends on our definition of productivity. If it means quickly gathering people together, then maybe the ministry isn’t very productive. But if the definition is building wider, deeper, relationships built on trust, shared experiences, and conversations then the answer is the ministry is absolutely productive.
The produce of inefficiency means that my consistent weekly breakfast spot over the past year sees a single mom and server trust me enough to ask if I can sit with her young daughter until her grandmother arrives to pick her up. The sitter fell through and the breakfast rush is at a high. Inefficiency means a retiree sips a beer and tells me he’s agnostic but insists he’ll be praying a lot on his death bed. It means another single mother confides that much of her thought life is consumed with what her purpose for living is. It is having neighbors invite you into their homes and gatherings. Inefficiency is having a contractor confess his struggles to me and long for renewal. It is a local pastor inviting his deacons to be a part of a class I’m offering after months of earning the pastor’s trust.
If I am going to be an effective pastor in a parish of people who do not believe in Jesus and of those who do, I need to learn the benefit and beauty of inefficiency. I need to listen to the voice of the communities. I need to hear their stories and be a person they know can handle the weight of their stories without shame or guilt.
The Lord hears us. He is patient with us. He is long suffering toward us. Maybe our ministry needs some inefficiency to communicate His character through us.
Come and Die: Something to Live For
My wife and I were visiting friends in one of our favorite towns in the Southeast. It’s a thriving and very hip downtown with a lot of shopping and restaurants and breweries and outdoor recreation opportunities. As we were leaving, we stopped by a coffee shop to grab a bite and a cup of life-blood.
Can you over hype coffee and donuts? After our experience at this quaint shop, my answer is “yes.” The coffee was some sort of fair trade organically grown bean from some far off mystic land with pink monkeys and Dodo birds. It had notes of . . . . acidity and blah. My donut was coated in delightful pistachios and green frosting and was absolutely . . . bitter. Two bites in and we both threw away our over-priced treats and drove away staring into an abyss of unfulfilled expectations. I couldn’t help but wonder if the people with whom we shared the space laughing and smiling were also secretly regretting their purchases but unable to bring themselves to admit we’ve all been duped and we are all pretending that this is superior to Eight O’Clock and a Hostess frosted honeybun. Staring into cold wiper blades, my wife said, “The emperor has no clothes.”
Are we giving church members and onlookers the same? Are we dispensing enthusiasm and joy hoping they’ll see past the veneer of a broken world and stick to a pew for a while? Maybe tithe a little while here? Are we promising that, yes, really our children’s ministry is growing and we are waiting while the new van gets to the dealership to spark our seniors ministry? “Glad you asked. Our next outreach team meeting is coming up and that very topic is on the docket.”
But Jews came from Antioch and Iconium, and having persuaded the crowds, they stoned Paul and dragged him out of the city, supposing that he was dead.20 But when the disciples gathered about him, he rose up and entered the city, and on the next day he went on with Barnabas to Derbe.21 When they had preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch,22 strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.23 And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed.
Did you hear that? Paul was beaten so badly they left him for dead, got up, and hiked 60 miles to another town to keep telling people about Jesus.
Without a mocha Java and savory pastry?
I wonder how much we’ve undersold the cost of discipleship to would-be pastors therefore, in turn, our people. Have we promised coffee shops and craft beer and glossed over Jesus’ tears and blood and follow me and you’ll be persecuted and die a thousand deaths? Have we really given ourselves and our people something to LIVE for?
Memorial Day had me thinking; it’s the sacrifice that drives men (granted, not always) to be willing to serve and die for something they believe in. Maybe we’re not seeing more pastoral students because we haven’t expressed the cost enough? Maybe the deaths they see pastors (like me) dying for are family feud deaths, not proactive missional dying. Maybe younger men and women look at the church as anemic and think, “What’s the use? Who wants to die for more programs, small groups, COVID protocols, and fellowship meals?” There’s something about extreme cost in shared mission that is actually attractive . . . right? How much more so when it’s actually, not figuratively, the risen Savior we are following to death?
I do think the gospel is being preached. I also think we are preaching the gospel to ourselves over and over and over again in better and more beautiful ways. We’ve really got the gospel down. But are we exercising the faith that will take that gospel to people who haven’t heard it so that we have a common, compelling, working mission?
I’ve pastored a small church (60-80) and a medium sized church (200-300) and incurred some pretty severe wounds. So severe that I almost left the ministry altogether. Those were wounds inflicted by me and members of the churches over methodology. And honestly, these were mostly re-shuffled Christians from other past churches.
I’m currently working with a core group (re-shuffled Christians) developing a new church. We are wrestling through what our core values will be. Of course, being outward focused is at the top of the list. My wisdom-filled wife made the comment to me, “What church have we ever been involved in that was actually outreach focused?” That kinda stung since I had pastored a couple of those. As a friend noted, “whiteboards lie.” We can come up with all the tricks and programs and aspirations we desire and still be inept at befriending the friendless.
I heard a statistic this week that it would take 10 millennials to make up for the financial giving of one baby boomer. I believe it. I mean . . . coffee and donuts are expensive in these shops. But I don’t blame them. What have they been compelled to give towards besides their voracious and expensive desires? What have I communicated and toward what have I truly lived?
Could this be a result of not having a mission worth dying for? Or professing a Savior who bled and died, yet not following said Savior? Are we coddling and begging consumers who come to us with loads of better suggestions and excuses and not going to the highways and hedges where the people dwell who have never heard good news of the gospel? Do we walk past DQ for the greener bean of a Mystic Coffee?
I’ve spent a lot of time licking flesh wounds thinking they were the death of me. That’s not death. Death is a spear in the side, body weight tugging on wrists nailed with railroad-like spikes, and the face of all your friends and your Father turned away.
By dying to self and living by faith in Jesus, we actually find true life. And so do others.
Onward, Christian . . . ?
These Wholesome Towns
Verdant hills. Meandering streams. Bucolic fields. Local high school football. Sunday school dresses. Fried chicken. Homecoming. This is small town life . . . Right?
Hiding from that suicide
Painting houses, getting by
I read that book just like they said
Tried my best to raise the dead
But there's cracks in the walls in every room
Sweating and bleeding just like a wound
Just like a wound
Put me in a ten-by-ten
And let me sit with all my sins
Cigarettes and dirty pictures
Dreaming of that forked river
You can’t fill me up with your false hope
It won't never sink into my bones
I spoke them words just like you please
Tried my best to keep it neat
But there's holes in the floor right where we stand
Don’t tell me 'bout your promised land
Your promised land
Put me in a ten-by-ten
And let me sit with all my sins
Cigarettes and dirty pictures
Dreaming of that forked river
- 10x10, Pony Bradshaw
Pony Bradshaw is a very geographically powerful songwriter. North Georgia is not only his home but his lyrical backdrop for a dramatic culture pockmarked by a cocktail of religion and addiction. His words strike hard and hit deep. He seems to understand the shallow religiosity that fills the coves and shrieks from the mountaintops leaving behind even the closest of kin wondering what went wrong.
Richard Lovelace, in his book, Dynamics of Spiritual Growth, writes,
There is a deep and indissoluble connection between our appropriation of justification and our experience of sanctification. On the one hand, the conscience cannot accept justification without sanctification. Assurance of justification which penetrates and cleanses our consciousness of guilt is impossible to obtain without an awareness that we are in some measure committed to progress in spiritual growth. This assurance increases as we move forward in sanctification and weakens or vanishes as we move away from the light of holiness (2 Pet. 1:2-11)... On the other hand, the conscience cannot accept sanctification unless it is based on a foundation in justification. When this is attempted the resulting insecurity creates a luxuriant overgrowth of religious flesh as believers seek to build a holiness formidable enough to pacify their consciences and quiet their sense of alienation from God.
Unpacking that hefty quote we see that if a Christian attempts to grow without her roots deeply grounded in the fact that she is accepted in Jesus, on His merit and His righteousness and not her own, she will attempt gaining holiness through outward action and appearance. It’s an attempt to clear her conscience because she knows she is far from holy. The thought is, maybe covering up guilt and shame with good works will help. The result, unfortunately, is building a self righteousness that can be very ugly. It leads to a judgmental spirit, anger at how life is going, hypocrisy, and unrepentant sin . . . All under a thin, but colorful, coating of religious behavior. Jesus described the Pharisees as “whitewashed tombs”; painted on the outside but dead inside.
Jesus pointed out this danger in His parable in Luke 18:
9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt:10 "Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.12 I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.'13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, 'God, be merciful to me, a sinner!'14 I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted."
Pony Bradshaw also sees, feels, and delivers this all-too-common storyline in his music:
We throw paint on the canvas
And call it post-modernistic magic
On my Christ-haunted shoulders
I carry Jehovah like a soldier
- Jehovah
In these lyrics he echoes Flannery O’Connor when she writes, “. . . I think it is safe to say that while the South is hardly Christ-centered, it is most certainly Christ-haunted.”
What happens if a church culture feeds on such false pretense? The good news of the gospel is exchanged for following impossible rules. It is an impossible yoke to bear. Those who give up on attempting to live out the oppressive and impossible holiness are cast out, demonized, and cut off. Many of the hurt are left battered and abused and seeking refuge in sex, methamphetamines, and the evil’s of drink about which they were so often warned from the pulpit. The very preaching against these abuses can be the actual catalyst for these abuses. The message is certainly a concoction for running away from the church and it is prevalent in rural settings.
What is the solution for the brokenness? The message delivered must change. That message must be the truly good news of the Bible not more bad news from abusive people.
John 3:17 tells us the heart of God: “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Here it is in the King James version: “For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.” Jesus is a Rescuer.
The message of rescue comes, not through external performance of duties and rules, but through heart transformation. That starts when we realize we cannot truly and fully do anything to merit Christ’s love. His grace is unmerited. We simply trust that Jesus is our righteousness, not we ourselves. When we grasp the depth of His grace on our behalf, it is a luxuriant growth of gratitude that begins to mark our lives. Rather than being judgmental, hypocritical, and mean, we become merciful, compassionate, and kind. It is from the springboard of our justification (the act of God’s grace in Jesus) that we are propelled into our sanctification (the work of God’s grace through Jesus).
Pony Bradshaw’s songs resonate through these hills. May the depth of the despair and trail of tearful spiritual abuse be healed through a greater message of hope in the perfect righteousness of Christ on our behalf. Then, living by the forked river of Eden will not be merely a dream, but a reality by the true river of life (Revelation 22:1-5).
Ballhootin
It’s a new term to me. A farmer was explaining to me that ballhootin is the local term used for a tractor skidding uncontrollably down a slick, wet hill. The driver can do nothing but hope it settles at the bottom with no consequence. In many ways our ministry relationships feel like we’re ballhootin.
We’ve gotten to know Lonz and Bessie. We’ve shared meals, kayaked together, and laughed loudly. We’ve had good conversations. Holly was able to share the good news of Jesus kindness and rescue with Bessie. She’s hesitant. That’s O.K. Where will those conversations lead us? We’re not in control.
Zack and Jon own a brewery. I go there once a week. It’s a part of my parish. It’s taken a year but recently they’ve asked for me to play banjo and I can now purchase chips, which means, I’m considered a local (by them) and can get my beer cheaper. Believe it or not, that’s huge progress. Zack recently opened up to me and told me is is not a Christian but he and his wife met because her parents were missionaries to the country from which he comes. That conversation is ongoing.
Clay is a local 6’6” three hundred pound contractor. His father left when he was young. Further, he was bullied for his size through his years of school and he is still haunted by it today. He wants to meet every week to talk. Where will this land?
Dear friends,
I love giving updates about Rural Church Development. I look out at my weeks and months before me not knowing how the Lord will work through what seem like silly and feeble efforts. I mean . . . building relationships with people by just being with them consistently and listening? How will that produce anything? How will Christ build and equip His Church that way? I look back on my weeks and months and find my mouth wide open in astonishment. Here is the latest:
Cartecay Gathering
Since Sunday, February 5, a sweet group of about 30 people have been gathering in Ellijay, GA at a community playhouse right off the downtown square. We have a steering team of five couples that are currently working through developing a mission statement and core values. It has been a delight to work with them, hear their dreams of a healthy church, and worship with them every Sunday. Yes, I am back to preaching every week until we find a church planter for this work. I haven’t minded it in the least! This is our church home and will continue to be.
Interns?
Many of you know about Will Davis. He is the young, local, multi-vocational Baptist pastor who is an intern with our presbytery and taking online seminary classes. As I am typing this, a church is meeting to call him as their pastor. He has had several churches in the area interested in him as their pastor (See the story HERE). His preaching and pastoring abilities have increased tremendously as he has started seminary and we have met weekly together. Please pray for Will as he grows in his understanding of his mountain Baptist culture and how best to minister while managing one thousand homes with his waste management business.
Besides Will, there are three more young men who are interested in pursuing some form of ministry. Two of these men grew up locally. One is supporting his family of five on an assistant 3rd grade teacher salary. The other is a newlywed trying to establish his own handyman service after the family business closed. The third grew up outside of Atlanta and is currently supporting his own family of five as a manager of a toy store. We meet regularly to pray, learn, and grow together. Please pray for these young men as they discern a potential call to ministry.
Rural Church Institute
Rural places often get the least of resources. That includes theological and practical. Rural Church Institute is a certificate program that I am developing to help men and women in the area to grow in their understanding of the Bible and practice. There is a real disconnect between what it means to know Jesus and how to live out the Christian life in a healthy and winsome manner. In May we will begin our first ten-week course. The first course is “How the Gospel Changes People.” Please pray that this course will be fruitful and be a resource for coming alongside the community.
Upon finishing the ten-week course, each participant will receive a certificate. They will then have the opportunity to take the next course.
Scaling the ministry
Can, or should, what we are doing here be duplicated elsewhere? I have had several conversations with folks from around the country about how this model of ministry could potentially help them in their rural contexts. This is a unique place in which I minister, but I do believe there are some principles that can be encouraged in other ministry areas. Please pray for laborers for the harvest willing to think and pray outside our typical methodologies in small town and rural places and for the conversations that seem to be growing.
I sure could use your help
To further ministry, I need to raise a sufficient amount of funds to meet my yearly budget. That budget includes my salary and programming expenses. When I began the ministry, the target number was $175,000/year. It still is. In the year and a half that I have been raising funds, I have reached a total of 156,000. Thankfully, I have been under budget in spending. As ministry needs increase, I’ll need to be financially more consistent. If you are not a financial partner yet, would you consider it? I invite you to read through my other stories and pray toward the potential of partnering with what the Lord is doing through Rural Church Development.
Whether you support the work or not, you are a valued friend. Your interest in the ministry is a strong encouragement and continues to lift my spirits and push me to be a better pastor. Thank you!
The Pelton’s
We are all growing in the respective places where the Lord has planted us. Miller continues to spruce up Tuscaloosa as he sends out men into the community with renewed confidence. His barbering and gift of gab has provided him with a tremendous place to build relationships and minister the gospel of Jesus.
Coffee conversations are blossoming into kingdom fruitfulness as Maggie meets with University of South Carolina students. The staff of First Presbyterian in Columbia, SC are seeing growing conversions and participation as they seek to love college students. Scientific illustration is still an interest that intrigues her. Maggie frequently takes the opportunity to exercise this gift and further her interest.
Lamps, computer mouses (mice?), kayaks, and water filters have never looked so fresh as Miles is about to begin his junior year in the Auburn product design program. This summer he will be keeping Alpine Camp boys afloat as waterfront staff and counselor.
Holly takes on jobs like a dog rescuer takes on fleas. She works part time at two different design stores in downtown Blue Ridge. She is tutoring children virtually who are struggling with learning disabilities. The tutoring agency has also employed her to help with marketing organization. Lastly (I think), Greenville, SC is home to two houses for which she is staging and flipping (virtually).
Me? I sit on the porch swing and play banjo.
Thanks for keeping up with us, y’all!
Mission Values
I was recently encouraged to come up with some values for myself and Rural Church Development. Being in the field and slowly learning about this ministry context, I’ve developed the following list as a start of values that guide my mission with RCD:
Pursuit
God sent Jesus, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him (John 3:17). My job is not to shame, condemn, or judge wrongly, but to push into relationships no matter the person or personality. Pursuit of people is what God is using to build the parishes in which I serve. Pursuing people is often awkward and uncomfortable. Yet it’s not because of the people, it’s because I am insecure and have to fight hard, by faith, to move past the awkward. I have found God faithful as He continues to amaze me in the relationships being built.
Presence
By presence I mean consistent proximity with longevity in the places and with the people of rural and small town communities. This means that I go to the same places to be with the same people over and over and over again. Being present consistently means that I get to witness, hear, and be a part of people’s joys, sorrows, and frustrations. I am developing a lasting and heartfelt love for these people. That love presses me to pray that hopefully, in time, they’ll have questions of temporal and eternal things.
Trust
I hope to build trusting relationship, over time, with a skeptical and reluctant culture. “I’m for you, not against you.” It would be easy to blast into this culture with my right way to do ministry and tell the gospel story to the loss of relationship. But that’s a sure way to destroy trust and build arrogance. Most people have had enough of that kind of ministry. Being for people means listening, being patient, and not jumping to demand conformity to my standards or even God’s standards. It means trusting that God is at work far more diligently and effectively than I am.
Worth
Knowing people’s worth leads to a biblical and healthy world and life view. Our culture is filled with Christians and churches who pull away from the culture, thus communicating a message of value only if those in the world clean up or conform to our standards in the church. I need to be for the communities and inhabitants, not isolate from them. Everyone has worth . . . Christian/non-Christian, rich/poor, local/transplant. I am to seek and encourage transformation rather than isolation. Pulling away from people because they sin or are sinners, or aren’t like me in any way, is contrary to Christ who came, not to the righteous, but sinners.
Blessing
This entails listening for opportunities to speak God’s favor over people demonstrating their value as image-bearers of God. I am to seek opportunities to tell people their value, worth, and giftedness. “Everyone is looking for someone looking for them” says counselor Curt Thompson. I want to be that someone for others for the sake of Christ Jesus who came looking for me and who is the ultimate Someone for me and for them.
Thank God For These Baptist Churches
It is 13 miles from Hwy 76 to McCaysville along Hwy 60. There are 7 churches 👆within those thirteen miles. That’s a church every 1.8 miles. Best guess, that number doubles or triples if you take side roads. Not all of these are Baptist churches. Some are Church of God, Holiness, Independent, or other.
The steam was creeping up the floor-to-ceiling windows. The clank of plastic plates and din of conversation filled the space with activity. Coffee, eggs, and sweet syrup filled the warm steam and cleared our pores. Will (our seminary intern) and I were grabbing a late breakfast at Waffle House and talking through ministry options. The options were good. Either one would mean Will was in a church culture which tends to be marked by an insecure and fearful belief system; a place where the gospel is needed as much as it is needed in the unchurched culture . . . just like in my Presbyterian context. In the middle of our conversation, Will said something that struck me as thoughtful and helpful: “Thank God for the Baptist churches which pushed into these mountains.”
I say that I believe God has been at work long before I got here. And I do believe that. But there are times that I backslide into the arrogant trap of thinking I’m a sort of rural savior mimicking Mighty Mouse with, “Here I am to save the day!” How crazy is that? Will was right, of course. These small white and brick buildings dotting the landscape are filled with pastors and people trying the best way they know how to learn about Jesus. And I certainly don’t see any Presbyterian churches. The Baptists have been risk takers, pioneers, and willing to pastor for a pittance. Many are multi-vocational, preaching and pastoring simply because they love Jesus. They are here and they are trying. They are here, and have been here, consistently pointing people to Jesus for decades.
A value that I aspire to fully embrace is that I am here for these people; both the churched and the unchurched, the pastor and the parishioner. A great desire of mine is to be able to come alongside what God is already doing, to listen well, and be a help where I can. I’m certainly no savior. To the area pastors I am a fellow pastor.
Occasionally I get to join with other pastors at a monthly breakfast gathering of the Mountaintown Baptist Association. They have warmly welcomed me, fed me (not healthily but heartily . . . which is a funny word in this context), and have been a wealth of knowledge about the area and culture. In some ways they are more connectional than us Presbyterians who profess to be connected. They have a missional pastor who gathers them together and helps resource and encourage them. He is already doing what I hope to do within this Presbyterian mission as the Lord establishes churches in the area.
I have learned much and have much more to learn. Most certainly . . . thank God for these Baptist churches.
Cartecay Gathering
Signage? √ Bulletins? √ Coffee supplies? √ Clipboards for kids? √ Toys for nursery? √ Bibles? √ Instrument? √ People . . . people . . . will there be people?
Eight years ago a handful of folks tried to plant a PCA church in Ellijay, Georgia. After gathering to pray and having the necessary conversations, a potential church planter visited and passed on the opportunity. Defeated and tired the group dispersed into various existing congregations. When Holly and I moved to the area a year ago we began hearing about that work and caught a name or two of those formerly involved. I knew that one of those people was the owner/operator of Chick-fil-a. I Googled her contact info. Holly and I met with she and her husband for lunch. By June of 2022 we had met several more families, some of whom were a part of that initial group. In July we determined to pray together for three months “for clarity in starting a conversation about a potential church plant.” When the three months were over we gathered in a living room with five couples to hear the heart of the group. They all wanted to take a next step toward a potential church plant. In November we started a Bible study.
We initially met on Wednesday evenings at a senior center in downtown Ellijay. It was only one room but it was free. We now had seven couples and two handfuls of kids. To help the parents with children’s schedules, we moved to early Sunday evenings. A month in and we realized that we needed a larger space in order to invite and accommodate more people.
Our study was foundational. We learned the Church; what it is and its function in the world and community. We talked about its goals and principles and its relationship to the kingdom of God. We prayed about being an outward-facing transformational church rather than isolating from the surrounding culture and community. We dreamed about having a space that was close to downtown where we could visibly show Ellijay that we are for her and not against her.
Within eyesight, and about thirty paces from the senior center, is the George Link, Jr. Playhouse that hosts music, community events, yoga, and plays. It is right off of the downtown square of city center. It has a large foyer with sliding barn doors into the main auditorium which seats about 150 people. What if we moved our Sunday evening Bible study to Sunday mornings and began a small worship service? We could meet in the foyer with the hope that we would grow to need the auditorium. It was not only available to us, they actually wanted us there.
On Sunday, February 5 about 30 people gathered for our first worship service in Ellijay, Georgia.
We are three weeks into doing simple worship and life together. We sing, pray, and open up the Bible for teaching. We determined to not advertise or invite people too quickly so that we could ease into worship, yet every week the Lord is adding to our number.
Engineer, shop owner, organic farmer, social media influencer, retirees, young moms, pool repair . . . these are some of the spaces that our people inhabit . . . the places that the Lord has gifted with these, His friends, for the beauty of His kingdom and the good of Ellijay. Would you consider praying for Cartecay Gathering? We need wisdom on next steps as we begin looking for a church planter, seek to serve in the community, and grow together as a gathering of followers of Christ.
On Being a Parish Pastor
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.
- 2 Corinthians 5:17-20a
I know my calling as a pastor is not typical. I feel the awkwardness of my call every time someone asks me what church I pastor. I do not pastor a particular church. My call is to visit multiple communities weekly in order to build relationships, begin gathering those who are desiring to know about the Bible and it’s teaching, and eventually begin seed works in those communities for a pastor to start a church.
There are three towns I visit weekly. I view each of these towns as separate parishes. Being a parish pastor has changed my perspective on pastoral ministry and richly blessed me personally and the ministry collectively.
What does it mean to inhabit a town with people of varying degrees of belief and unbelief and care for them as their pastor? I believe that is what being a parish pastor is all about. A parish pastor is a pastor to all of those within his town whether they believe in Jesus or not, or whether they consider you as their pastor or not.
Parish ministry is not a fast re-gathering of people who already believe similarly to you. Parish pastoring provides a safe place for people who are not like-minded with you. The parish is comprised of not only Christians, but the skeptic, the de-churched, the un-churched, or the disenfranchised.
Counselor Curt Thompson writes that everyone is looking for someone looking for them. I want to be a parish pastor who is looking for the people who feel no one is looking for them. If you think about it, people everywhere are waving their arms, whistling between fingers, and jumping up and down to be seen by someone. It’s the waitress whose Instagram account is filled with glamour selfies. It’s the ink on the skin’s surface begging to tell a story. It’s the young man whose truck needs a ladder to enter and subwoofers that thump at surrounding cars. It’s the boy sitting off from everyone else with hood shadowing his face. Who do they have who really listens? Most people are too busy and too consumed with their own pursuit of getting someone’s attention that they are busy talking and rarely listening. That includes pastor types like me. As I am listening to others, I am often merely formulating my bright and right answers so that I will be heard. Am I then really a safe place for someone to confess their wounds, or am I a vending machine for advice? I want to learn how to be a parish pastor for the hurting. In the space that I now inhabit I am slowly learning.
Where do I go? Saturday I went to a high school girl’s basketball game to celebrate the daughter of a family who scored her 1000th point. Tomorrow I’ll have breakfast at a local diner and ask the wait staff about their holidays, how they fared in the December freeze, and the current reprieve from tourists. In the afternoon I'll meet an organic farmer who wants to explore a wilderness area for the afternoon. Wednesday I’ll attend a Future Farmers of America pig competition. Thursday I’ll go to a local brewery to catch up with the bartenders. The places and people in a parish are endless and endlessly fascinating.
When do I know that parish pastoring is becoming a parish? When the waitress greets me by name and comments about my beard growth. When the bartender’s point of sale system designates me as “pastor” on the screen. When a new acquaintance, upon hearing I am a pastor, apologizes for cursing but your new friend sitting with you says to him, “It’s okay. He’s a pastor, but he’s safe.”
I have a pastor friend who, when asked the question, “What do you do for a living?,” answers, “I help people get to heaven.” I like that answer. It’s honest but also could bring an entrance of some humor into a larger and more serious conversation. As a parish pastor I am loving people by listening to them and, when asked, inviting them into a conversation about eternity. It’s a longview ministry. It takes time and frequent proximity to people.
God is reconciling the world to Himself through His Son who came into proximity with the skeptic, the de-churched, the un-churched, and the disenfranchised. He loved them. He demonstrated who He was. When asked, He told them who He was and what He was doing. Christ has ascended and commissioned us with the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.
I pray that churches will be developed in these towns where the pastors and people of those churches will value a heart, not just for each other, but for their endlessly fascinating parish. May the Lord bless these efforts and be pleased through us to bring many, many people into His eternal kingdom.
Maybe It’s Time to Let Your Pastor Go
Infidelity, addiction, burnout. We hear the sad stories far too often. Faithful pastors grow weary under the weight of expectations from their congregations and the condemning voices of “you are never enough” from their own consciences.
Having pastored in multiple cities and various size churches, I get it. My first call as a pastor into the local church was to a small mission church. About thirty people had been gathering for several years but were not yet organized with a full-time pastor or elders. I spent eight years in that community and we grew to about eighty members. We trained elders, organized, built a building, and met faithfully in weekly worship. I was a solo pastor. It was a relatively small town. Because of the size of the congregation I had the bandwidth to get involved in the community. I started a pub run, hosted concerts, implemented a music festival, and served on the farmers’ market board. That involvement made me a better pastor and was a life-giving source of encouragement.
My second call was to a larger community and a church that was pushing three hundred attendees and multiple staff. What I quickly learned was that the internal struggles were so great that outward facing personal ministry would need to be put on the back burner. After eight years, I was tired, depressed, discouraged and ready to call ministry done forever. So I did . . . at least, for a short time. After counseling, rest, and wise counsel from others, I realized I was burned out, not from ministry, but from ministry that did not play to my strengths as a pastor.
When the second church called me to be their pastor, I think that a large part of what they saw in me was my desire for community outreach through involvement. The reality was that love was sucked out of me through what felt like the corporate church. Meetings, committees, staff oversight, training . . . all of these were helpful to gathered Christians, but I felt like a pot roast in a slow cooker being torn apart over the long haul. My love for community involvement took a backseat and it about killed me and, I believe, about killed the church.
I suspect most would-be pastors enter seminary because their relationship with Jesus compels them to want to proclaim the good news to all people. I certainly had visions of going to the lost and winsomely loving them into the kingdom of God. I also suspect that, after graduation, most pastors get sucked into the vortex of either starting churches by re-gathering Christians, or pastoring churches that started as re-gathered Christians. Soon they find themselves wondering when their love for people and zeal for ministry deserted them.
May I suggest that we need to let our pastors go? We need to let our pastors go out into their parishes to be with the people in their communities for no other reason than to enjoy people and to listen to them. Maybe “letting them go” is too understated. We need to actively encourage and make the space for our pastors to be in the community. We need to expect them to be with people who don’t believe in Jesus. We need not to see them in the office all day. I suspect that this simple act will transform their ministry, their sermons, and their evangelism. In return, the church will receive the blessing of a pastor experiencing the joy of their calling.
Earning Back the Right to be Heard
A dear friend posted a video and photos of her young child’s gentle coaxing of a frightened feral kitten from under their house. His patience fueled by his desire to win the kitten into his embrace, coupled with a soothingly sweet voice, eventually earned the trust of his now affectionate pet.
Building trust requires a relationship built on safe ground. Humans require the same safe space in order to trust and receive another’s words and actions. A friend of mine recently posted this helpful quote by Edwin H. Friedman:
The colossal misunderstanding of our time is the assumption that insight will work with people who are unmotivated to change. Communication does not depend on syntax, or eloquence, or rhetoric, or articulation but on the emotional context in which the message is being heard. People can only hear you when they are moving toward you, and they are not likely to when your words are pursuing them. Even the choicest words lose their power when they are used to overpower. Attitudes are the real figures of speech.
Creating a safe emotional context is vital for healthy relationship. In today’s argumentative and heated environment, we need to be willing to hear, often long before we should speak. Decades ago I spent four years on staff with a ministry to high school students called Young Life. Their mantra in developing relationships with students was, as staff and leaders, we needed to “earn the right to be heard.” I believe that the church has been talking at the world with no safe context for so long that, in many places and on many subjects, we have lost the right to be heard. The Apostle Paul wrote that words with the wrong attitude are like a noisy cymbol clashing in the ears. For too long, and far too loudly, much of the church has been a grinding voice in the culture so that culture gives a big eye roll and no longer listens.
What’s the remedy? First, we must be overwhelmed with the pursuit and nearness of Jesus ourselves. We must see and experience the safe context He provides that has made Him a safe place for guilty, weary, sinful people like us to find rescue. Look into the Scriptures and see the actions of God the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. Witness the initiating work of His grace. In a world where the religious Pharisees were pointing out the woes of people’s sin and trapping them in legalistic teaching, the beat down and disenfranchised were hungry for someone to hear them and welcome them in. God in the flesh was and is their and our rescue. Jesus came not to save the righteous but sinners. After Adam and Eve sinned by eating the forbidden fruit, they were naked and ashamed. When we sin we too feel exposed and ashamed at some level. But God is the initiator in the relationship. He walks into the garden and Adam and Eve hear Him coming. Like us, their inclination was to hide. But He pursued them in order to rescue them. He came in gentleness walking in the garden. He asked them questions and listened. He did not use words to overpower them. That is the story of Scripture from the beginning to end. Every single patriarch, disciple, and follower of Christ experienced God as the initiator. Have we forgotten by whom we were engaged and changed? Have we forgotten the kindness of God? We must stop thinking that we are morally superior to the those outside the church and stop attempting to overpower them with our words and begin to listen to their fears, disappointments, dreams, temptations, and same entrapments of the world that we encounter. Empathizing begins to lay a foundation in our own hearts for understanding others.
Secondly, we must pursue each other with His grace and speak it to one another inside the church. If God’s kindness leads us to repentance, than us displaying His received kindness to each other as Christians should dissolve many of the divisions and quarrels of which we have become so adept. Laying aside our rights and desires for the sake of others is a biblical hallmark exercised by Christ Himself. Judgment begins in God’s house with God’s people. Introspection ought to start with us as we relate to each other within the church.
Thirdly, by the same grace He displays to us in the body of Christ, we must pursue others outside the church. Before we speak, we must pursue. Before we speak, we must listen. Only after much listening and empathizing to hear the wounds of another’s heart will any words of healing from us have a beginning place to be received. How can someone hear grace if they have not received grace? Finger wagging is never a winsome vehicle of communication for the gospel. Arguing is rarely, if ever, a life-changing strategy.
The church has a long road ahead of it if it wants to be a heard voice crying in the wilderness with any desire of having influence in that wilderness. It starts with you and me. Are we willing to listen to Jesus and follow after Him rather than mimic and encourage the cultural anger in front of us?
“So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth . . .”
- 2 Timothy 2:22-25 ESV
The stall
The optimal temperature for pulling a pork butt off the smoker is right around 203 degrees Fahrenheit. Knowing exactly when the luscious and juicy slab will reach that temperature is somewhat unpredictable. Many an aspiring pitmaster (pitminor?) experiences what seasoned chefs term “the stall” somewhere around the 160-180 mark. In a panic, the pitminor will either crank up the heat or pull the butt off the smoker because the meat temp says it’s sufficiently past the trichinosis danger. If they had waited out the stall and hit the targeted 203, the succulent meat would fall apart in delicious morsels and receive high praise from the voracious audience. Didn’t wait? Polite nods and quiet chewing will occur around the table.
The stall seems like a pretty good description of what I feel like in ministry about now. We hit the ground running, made initial contacts, and created somewhat of a routine for building relationships. It’s been five months since we landed. The Lord has provided paths to relationships I never could have imagined. Yet, now it feels like a waiting game as we grow those relationships, figure out where we need to invest more deeply, and wisely determine how and when to gather people together. Like the pitminor, I’m wanting to strike too soon even though I knew going into this gig that I would probably spend my first year just getting to know people. We have to remind ourselves that it’s only been five months.
I’m finding that the stall is vastly important. It’s caused me to reflect on where I have invested my time and energy and to delete some places that have felt unfruitful. It has pushed me into places I would not have considered . . . like hanging out at a laundromat rather than the Christian-infiltrated coffee shop or brewery. It’s made me take chances at an awkward open mic night in an awkward town squeaking out banjo tunes. It’s pressed me into relationships I never would have pursued otherwise. The stall has also made us more prayerful as we see our inadequacy for this ministry.
We’ll press on anticipating that God is at work even when it feels like a stall. We’re learning that small town church planting is like a good pink smoke ring; to achieve it, ministry needs to be low and slow. Building relationships, gathering people together, and resourcing them needs to be thoughtful and wise. I’ll let you know when the ministry hits 203, though I have a suspicion that’ll be at the marriage supper of the Lamb.
an offensive gospel
From The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss
We know that the message of Jesus is offensive to many. Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 1:23 that the message of Christ crucified is “a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” That’s what the unadulterated gospel does because it offends the sinful bent of a person’s heart attacking it’s self-made nature in order to challenge the sin with a dying to self and finding new life. A person becomes a Christian when they let go of their defenses and trust that the humility of Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection are the only true means of salvation. That assaults our idea of the self-made man.
There is another offense of the gospel. This one is man-made, and not from Christ. The manner in which Christians speak and live can make the gospel even less palatable to the hearer by being offensive themselves. That same self-righteousness that we leaned on before we knew Christ raises it’s ugly head to dress us again in the ugly garb to defend ourselves in our spirituality. As Jesus teaches in the Beatitudes, it’s one thing to be persecuted for the sake of knowing Jesus (clothed in His righteousness) and another for being persecuted for being belligerently self-righteous in the name of Jesus (Matthew 5:10-12). This offensiveness creates an ungodly dividing wall of separation between the Christian and non-Christian; the sacred and secular; the haves and the have-nots. Rather than celebrating the image of God in all mankind and seeking the welfare of the places we live, work, and play, we become separatists creating holy blockades from the profane world. That’s offensive. That’s unbiblical.
The offense of the gospel of which I am interested is an offense where we no longer take a defensive posture against the world, but push into our culture with the confident power of the gospel to change lives, institutions, towns, and the culture. It is a “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” posture. It’s not fearful of the culture and cowering into little enclaves. Rather, it humbly recognizes that Jesus came, not to condemn the world but to rescue it (John 3:17). We get to enter into God’s rescue story seeing Him work in restoring lives to what they were created to be.
Until we go on the offensive with the truly good news and active participation in our communities, we will continue to be reactive against the ills of the day and offer little hope to a world unwilling to listen to defensive (and offensive) people.
Let the gospel be offensive on its own. We don’t need to help it along. It will do its work to challenge the heart where God desires. It’s freeing to know that we can take the positive offensive position. It’s more in line with Christ’s message and demeanor. It’s also a heck of a lot more fun because it frees us to listen to, work with, serve beside, and enjoy people rather than always putting up our guard and being defensive.
Rural ministry: Not just any church
Over the last several weeks I’ve had multiple conversations about either church revitalization or church planting in rural areas. Some of the comments I’ve heard sound something like this:
“We need a strong conservative presence in this growing liberal town.”
”There is not a Reformed, traditional, Presbyterian church within miles.”
“We need a young Reformed pastor to revitalize our church.”
”Our community is no longer what it used to be. Many have moved away leaving a very different type of town. There is little to no hope for revitalization or planting a healthy church.”
If we are going to plant healthy churches in rural and small towns, or revitalize churches which are dying, we need a teaching and practice that are true and faithful to the gospel of Jesus. We need to foster a gospel culture that sees our communities, not as an enemy, but as opportunity to see our towns flourish. Not only do we need to pray for and strive for a gospel culture in these towns, but to raise up leadership that will perpetuate this culture. Here are some thoughts on what is needed:
Not just a Reformed church.
Orthodoxy is simply right doctrine. Orthopraxy (right practice) should flow from right doctrine. As we get nearer and nearer the teaching of Jesus, the more like Jesus our thoughts, words, and deeds ought to become (Colossians 1:9-10). Unfortunately we often lose sight of right doctrine by focusing on the rightness of it and fall prey to a heart filled with contempt, fear, defensiveness, and isolationism. Though we may claim right orthodoxy, a subtle drift can turn it into false orthodoxy by a betrayal of grace-filled and merciful practice. As a pastor, I have certainly fallen prey to it many times.
My wife and I attended a church where this false orthodoxy was palpable. All of the vital pieces of worship were in place: A call to worship the triune God. Check; worship in God-honoring praise. Check; confession of sin and a strong assurance of forgiveness of that sin. Check; a prayer for the people of the church, the government of our city, state, nation and world. Check; a scripture-filled sermon. Check; the sacraments rightly explained and performed. Check; a benediction from God’s Word to the people. Check. Yet the culture of the church was frigid and unwelcoming. We sensed an “us-verses-them” isolationism from the evil world out there rather than a “seek the welfare of the city” (Jeremiah 29:7) heart. The tenor of the church was not conducive to bringing your vulnerability and sins and finding forgiveness but rather a dress up, straighten up, and fly right rigidity. “Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, weak and wounded, sick and sore; Jesus ready stands to save you, full of pity, love, and power,” was sung but certainly not felt.
Small towns and rural places are full of churches that produce this kind of ingrown culture. What we need are churches with a gospel culture where people feel relieved when they enter the doors of the church. Burdens should be lifted. A new step should lead them back into their world with a new song and fresh hope for themselves and confidence to speak it to others.
Cultivating leadership from within.
There is a shortage of good doctrinally sound and gospel-driven pastors to fill the pulpits and shepherd well the people in our communities. We need to be raising up men with these characteristics from the communities which we serve. I believe that they are there, we just need to look for them and encourage them. Often it in is high school or college that young men start thinking about the possibility of a lifetime of ministry. We can start early, by gathering young men together in studies or cohorts to help them explore their gifts and to see if God is calling them to pastoral ministry. I was in college when the Lord began developing my heart for ministry. A church and pastor took an interest in me and helped me think through ministry. We need to cultivate now the next generation from our own ministry areas. Through NxtGen Pastors (www.ngpastors.com) and the Wisconsin network of PCA churches, the presbytery in that state currently has 30 young men in their pipeline for potential church planting. It can and is being done!
Many of our rural towns are changing their ethnic demographic and we are bemoaning the change rather than seeing the opportunity for leadership development. Yes . . . Christians are bemoaning the change. It is an anti-Gospel and anti-Christ sentiment. We ought to see with new eyes and pray to the Lord of the harvest for opportunity to be coming alongside these towns. We should have been doing it decades ago.
Being kingdom-minded.
Often, we are tribe-oriented rather than kingdom-minded. What I mean is that we often do not look at the bigger picture of what God is doing outside our own denominational box. I am mentoring a young Baptist pastor. He is exploring the Scriptures as he begins seminary. Am I more concerned with him becoming Presbyterian or a faithful pastor who serves his people well? Yes, I have strong biblical convictions that lead me to be Presbyterian, but some of those convictions have been debated for centuries (paedo-baptism primarily) and are not crystal clear. My hope is that this young man will be used in the kingdom of God for His glory and the benefit of many, many others. I fear that the churches tendency toward tribalism stunts a healthy mission overlooking what God is doing in His larger kingdom.
Continuing in prayer.
I am far too independently-minded and self-made to not rely on prayer. The Lord goes before us to accomplish His good purposes. I need to be in prayer so that I am gospel-minded, Christ-oriented, and kingdom of God focused. We need to be in prayer if we are going to see God at work to raise up Godly leadership and healthy churches in small communities and rural places.
What was what?
Holly and I were fresh transplants to the sweltering city of Jackson, Mississippi when a friend and fellow seminary student invited us to dinner. He and his wife were living in the affordable townhouses inhabited by many students not a half mile from the campus. Burgers on the grill, we were enjoying an evening of conversation and laughs after our intensive summer Greek course. Above the cacophony of cicadas and sizzling beef fat, a distant rumble began to harmonize with our ambiance. Soon, the distant rumble became the deafening roar and rattle of a freight train that cut all other sounds from existence. We could feel the train. Our conversation had to pause until the iron horse passed.
My question, of course, was how in the world could you live with that as a constant life interruption? Our friends shrugged and nonchalantly said that they really just didn’t hear it anymore. It had become a mere background nuisance that, if asked, “What was that?” they might respond with, “What was what?”.
I’m afraid that the awe-inspiring, life-or-death message of the gospel has become a “What was what?” . . . in many of our rural areas and small towns.
Many of the churches host pastors who have very little prep time for their sermons and even less instruction on how to prepare a sermon that honors the whole story of God’s heart of rescue. So they resort to what they know, which is typically a “You need Jesus now” message, amped up with zeal and fervor and decibels, with little regard for how a relationship with Christ impacts all of life. The “gospel” gets preached much like a freight train; loud, long, consistent, and on a track to deliver goods but not to me or anyone in the vicinity. Their people become inoculated to the noise of an ineffective and abbreviated story. They nod, say “amen,” and feel good that at least they went to church. But then they go about life as is. There is very little transformative engagement with Jesus.
A small town pastor friend of mine told the story of a salesman with whom he worked. This colleague had been married six times and was currently dating a woman. His summer weekends were spent partying on the lake, but his weekends were cut short as he needed to be back to serve his church Sunday morning. He is a faithful churchgoer. Not only that, he is an elder (leader) in his church. Where is the disconnect between his professed relationship with Jesus and his seemingly unchallenged lifestyle that so obviously transgresses the Bible, contradicts God’s character, objectifies women, and dismisses the gospel he says he believes and seeks to serve? Where is the challenge from his pastor and fellow leaders to exemplify the qualifications and character of a biblical leader?
Rural Church Development seeks to enter in and come alongside, where the Lord is already at work, to assist in equipping people with a tangible Jesus who really does transform lives in real and remarkable ways. How? Through the gracious generosity of our donors and Tennessee Valley Presbytery, we are offering online seminary for young men desiring to become pastors . . . or better pastors. We hope to develop preachers who not only become better communicators of the good news of Jesus, but better pastors who can enter in to people’s lives and see that good news at work in the heart of people with transformed lives. We are seeking to create a gospel culture where people are gathered to worship to know the love of Christ and be so enthralled with His love for them that they can’t help but live out His transformative power in them. We want people to hear God’s Word in such a way that they walk our of a Bible study or service of worship not asking, “What was what?” but proclaiming, “That was none other than God Himself speaking to my heart.”
Preaching angry
I left the house defensive and exasperated. I should have known by my reaction that she was probably right.
Wayne and Madge were an increasingly frail couple from the Western Sizzlin and Shoney’s Big Boy era. He always wore slacks and she a broach. Generally these pastoral visits to their home were pleasant enough. After they kenneled their feisty daschund and invited me in the house, we would sit in the floral den with coffee and pound cake. The conversations were almost predictable. Madge would be out on a worry limb fretting about some culture shift. In 1999 this worry led her by the heart to listen to a conspiracy theorist and send her poor husband stockpiling for the coming year. I was sure this conversation was about some new clothing style, music genre, or popular television program gone to the devil. I would listen, assure her of God’s kind and providential care of His people, and listen to her talk through it slowly and climb down the tree touching the ground with her toe as if the earth could still be lava hot. By the time I prayed and left, Madge was a smidge less worrisome. But this visit was not the typical visit.
The worry that Madge wore on her countenance on this visit had to do with me. After the general niceties and catching up on their health, Madge launched into her question: “Why are you preaching mean?” Mean? I had not been accused of preaching mean since my last year of seminary when our instructor (another elderly lady come to think of it) asked us to do a righteous indignation speech. My speech was a tongue in cheek (sort of) repudiation of the name of our seminary cafeteria. My argument was that Solid Rock Cafe was a transgression of the third commandment; “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.” A cafeteria named after the triune God? There was nothing transcendent about that cafe but for the endless games of pool we played in the back room to ease our studied minds. Nevertheless, like the words from my seminary instructor, I now heard the same words from Madge . . “You’re mean.”
I left frustrated. When I arrived back at my office, one of the church elder’s wives was there tidying up for the coming Sunday. To ease my conscience I asked her if I had been preaching mean? She assured me I had not and said there are times we need to hear hard truths. She then coddled my defensiveness by agreeing with my assessment that Madge was sliding down in her mental health. That’s it! Madge was the crazy one.
It took years of ministry for me to realize and admit that Madge had been right. My anger was not obvious. It was subtle and couched in gospel truth. Madge was intuitive. Looking back I realize that there were things that I expected the church to be and do that, in my estimation, the church was failing to accomplish. If the church wasn’t becoming what I wanted it to be, what did that say about me? The church was making me look bad. What did I do? I know that I still preached the good news of Jesus. But I also know that I nuanced the good news with my own attempt at producing some sort of guilt in the hearers to control them and produce what I wanted to see. That doesn’t work. People don’t experience lasting change through outward conformity to demands, but by internal heart change that has encountered the kindness of Christ.
That was fifteen or more years ago. The church in that town survived my bouts of meanness. They have since had pastors who have led them further and deeper and more graciously than I could have ever led. I am thankful He leads me in His kindness and that, as the saying goes, He uses crooked sticks (like me . . . and you) to draw His straight lines.
To Catch a Fisherman
@coreypeltonphotography
It’s a funny phenomenon to watch the social media banter between trout fishermen. There is often animosity between those who fly fish and those who use bait (corn, worms, powerbaits); those who catch and release their quarry, and those who keep their catch. If a person were to post a picture of nine trout on a stringer, well, get ready. The limit (in Georgia) is eight and judgments begin flying like a million dusk bats from Carlsbad before the judges have heard testimony. That stringer could actually be a day’s hard-earned catch of nine different people but the accused will most likely not have a fair trial from their peers.
Judgmental trout fishermen are just a tiny microcosm of our human dilemma. We are all fast to speak and slow to listen. We assume quick ill of others because we have a ravenous appetite to feel superior. James, a disciple of Jesus, addresses our hearts on this issue:
“Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.” - James 1:19-21
James is writing to Christians; those whose hearts have been changed to reflect the heart of Christ himself. Yet James knows that those who know Christ often live out of line with their changed hearts. A changed heart means that the righteousness of God can really and actually come forth from the Christian. The anger of man (that which is quick to bring wrong judgment) ought not hold place with the Christian. But it does . . . often. What are we to do? James says to put it away and receive something altogether different.
Every Christian has access to the “power of God unto salvation” which is the gospel . . . the good news that our old sin nature that ruled us no longer rules us. We don’t have to live by its sway any longer. We don’t have to allow anger, leading to a judgmental heart, be the dominant force in our lives. When we do allow a judgmental heart, our hearts experience soul-death.
Think on this story of two fishermen:
Déagol and Sméagol were cousins and best friends. To celebrate Sméagol’s birthday they hiked together to a favorite fishing hole in the Gladden Fields. It was there that Sméagol found the ring. It was a ring of power that seduced the wearer and corrupted the wearer’s heart. Under the ring’s corruption Sméagol became the grotesque and well known Lord of the Rings character, Gollum. Gollum felt a deep need to protect his precious ring and saw everyone else as a threat. Sméagol killed Déagol.
That’s what a corrupt heart does. It becomes paranoid, angry, self-protecting, and feeds on the neglect and demise of others. For the Christian, it strikes at their own vitals while bringing harm to others. Exercising the corrupt heart is soul-killing. The reverse is also true; receiving the grace-given and implanted Word - that word which tells us we have no need for boasting, rightness, self-preservation, etc. - brings soul-life.
By accessing that constant and ever-present grace given to us through His Word and in Jesus Christ, our soul can experience the salvation we were meant to find and exercise. I need His word of grace daily to combat my angry, judgmental, heart and to lead me by the hand to a response to others that brings true life.
The witch tree of tilley bend
@coreypeltonphotography
The blank tombstone rests beneath the tree from which she was hung. The hillside is dotted with simple stones born of the wombs she cursed.
Feeling light and refreshed by the warm spring evening, Holly and I decided to wind down unknown roads. A sign had indicated a canoe launch along the Toccoa and I am always up for a trip to the river. Miles into our wanderings found us deep in the oak canopy and cresting a ridge before we would drop down into the rhodedendron-laden river bottom. To the right, away from any seeming civilization, was Tilley Baptist Church. Unlike the typical rural white clapboard churches that dot the North Georgia landscape, this church was a deep, dark brown with windows that had been boarded up presumably guarding the internals from vandals. It was too enticing to not stop and explore.
The small hill behind the church revealed the centuries of family loss as tombstones gave way to dates going back to the early 1800’s. Old deeply-wrinkled names like Pollie, Enoch, and Gilbert were etched and chiseled into marble and limestone. A large tree stood in the middle of the yard. Beyond, there were the small stones, blank of any markings. Short graves. Shallow holes. Little people. Children. Stillborns. We spoke briefly and somberly noting how numerous these stones. Silenced by our unexpected find, we drove off toward the river.
What was an intriguing stop along a pleasant drive became a haunting story of feuds, witchcraft, a rope, and a limb.
The week after our brief sojourn through the twisting roads, I was speaking with a young Baptist pastor whose family goes back six generations in this wild Appalachian area. I mentioned our stop. “Oh, that’s where Elizabeth Tilley was hung for witchcraft.” WHAT? I thought the witchcraft trials were an isolated hyper-Puritan event in Salem, Massachusetts. I thought the scarlet letter was a New England thing.
From a history account by Clay Ramsey:
On the other side of the ridge from Tilley Bend, the Stanley family, originally from western North Carolina, formed a Settlement. Over the years, friction developed and then violently erupted at the turn of the twentieth century when a group of Stanleys shot into the Tilley Church during services, killing the minister and several of the congregants, among them a daughter belonging to Elizabeth Jane Tilley Bradley. In retaliation, a band of Tilleys invaded the Stanley Settlement, murdering several of their number, including the husband of another of Elizabeth Bradley’s daughters. Elizabeth, of Creek ancestry, reportedly put a curse on both families.
For a full year, no babies survived in either settlement. Every child was miscarried, stillborn or died in early infancy. Only a witch could have that power, they believed. So a mob strung her up in a tree at the center of the Tilley cemetery. Before she died, she promised to return. They buried her at the foot of the tree where she fell. She was supposedly buried facing west, not accorded an eastern orientation by Christian tradition. Another year passed with the same degree of infant mortality, so the same mob killed her sister-in-law Mary, believing Elizabeth’s dark soul had found a haven in Mary’s body and continued her vindictive project from beyond the grave.
@coreypeltonphotography
The short decades through which I’ve lived have seen a lot of change. I write this haunting account on a MacBook. On it I can not only write, but research any topic from how to hand whip finish a pheasant tail nymph to the location of a particular grave site in Southern Appalachia. I can communicate with anyone, anywhere in the world and actually see them in real time. While typing I can speak over my shoulder . . . “Alexa, play Billy Joe Shaver” . . . and Billy Joe is immediately filling my living room telling me I’ll miss him when he’s gone.
Though we have new technology, we have the same sort of heart haunts and curses as Tilley Bend. Meth has replaced moonshine. Abuses fill communities. We blame and murder even within the church which is commissioned with a message of reconciliation. Human nature marches on leaving in its path a swath of stories both beautiful and broken. I want to take note and listen to the stories. Learn from them. We are the product of community stories for good and for ill. Knowing our communities, and our place in the community, helps us to know how to interact. If we are willing, we can be open to hear the hurts, desires, divisions, and needs. It’s easy to stand outside the communities we do not understand and take pot shots into the unknown. Rather than firing into sanctuaries or conjuring curses against others, we can become avenues of grace and mercy to heal rather than harm.
@coreypeltonphotography
“Hear, my son, and accept my words, that the years of your life may be many. I have taught you the way of wisdom; I have led you in the paths of uprightness. When you walk, your step will not be hampered, and if you run, you will not stumble. Keep hold of instruction; do not let go; guard her, for she is your life.”
Proverbs 4:10-13