I tried to follow my own advice in Before You Go by asking as many good questions as possible and they did the same. Throughout the process, it became increasingly clear that Preston Road would be a great church for my family and that my family could serve and bless Preston Road. We are both humbled and honored by the invitation to join their team.

The timing is impeccable. We closed on the sale of Defiant CrossFit last week. The kids get out of school this week. We’ll transition, vacation, and pack in June and then move to Dallas in July.

We can’t wait!

Why can’t church be more like CrossFit?

What if Christ-Followers pursued spiritual fitness with the same tenacity and intensity with which CrossFitters pursue physical fitness?

What would it look like to take CrossFit principles and insights and apply them to training for Christ-likeness?

These are the questions that spawned the book you’re about to read.

In Train For Something Greater, Wade Hodges throws his passion for CrossFit and his desire to become more like Christ into the black box. The outcome is a humorous, practical and inspirational discussion about what training for physical and spiritual fitness have in common.

If you love CrossFit almost as much as you love Jesus, you’re going to love exploring the infinite connections between your two passions.

If you love CrossFit more than you love Jesus, prepare to explore a deeper meaning behind the phrase “ready for anything.”

If you’ve never heard of CrossFit, but are longing for a fresh approach to training for Christ-likeness, get ready to see spiritual formation from a new perspective, while also being overcome with a strong desire to pick up something heavy.

Buy it Now!

Don’t have a Kindle reader?

Not a problem. It can be read on any device (Macs, PCs, iPads, iPhones, Android devices and Blackberries) with the Kindle reader app. (Available here)

One of my faith struggles is trusting that God is actually at work in and behind and between my experiences, redeeming my poor choices and silly mistakes, while honoring my freedom to make my own decisions.

I am writing my own story, but I also recognize my need for an editor. Someone who can make sense of this incoherent mess of a first draft I’m turning in. Because that’s exactly how life gets lived. We are all writers frantically pounding out a messy first draft on our keyboards, while an unforgiving deadline looms over us.

Unlike writers, we don’t have the luxury of going back and cleaning up the first draft of our lives. We can’t edit the last day we lived like a writer can edit the last paragraph she wrote. All we can do is keep on living, moving forward, filling page after page with false starts, wrong turns, dead ends, faulty logic, weak structure, and awkward dialogue.

When our deadline arrives, we turn in our story. It’s not much, but it’s the best we could do with the time we were given.

What our first draft needs is an editor who understands the story we were trying to tell and who understands our limitations as writers.

We need an editor who can tidy up the messy details without losing sight of the larger story we envisioned in our heads, but failed to translate to the page.

An editor who sees the best parts of our story and draws them out, highlighting them in bold type, while weaving the unfortunate, unwise, and underdeveloped threads into a coherent subplot.

An editor who can take our story and make it better than we ever imagined without changing its essence so much that it ceases to be our story.

That’s the kind of editor I need for my life.

Any ideas where I might find one?

2. The graphics on ESPN inspire me to spend more time on my PowerPoint slides.

3. Playing Call of Duty improves my reflexes so that I can better respond to tough questions after my sermons.

4. I pray some of my best prayers in between shots on the golf course.

5. Jesus spent lots of time in a boat.

6. Watching Survivor helps me do a better job at elders’ meetings.

7. I read spy novels to learn how to build more suspense into my sermons.

8. I keep going to U2 concerts because I’m hoping to talk to Bono about our open worship pastor position.

9. Camping helps me better understand the plight of the homeless in our community.

10. I go to R-rated movies looking for new things to preach against.

I bring this up because several months ago, while sitting in church, I looked around mid-sermon and saw at least two iPads and two Kindles being put to use. These numbers are from a small sampling of the people sitting on my row or in the row in front of me. I tried to turn around and check the row behind me, but my wife thumped my ear.

These wonderful pieces of technology weren’t being used to read the scriptures the preacher was referencing in his sermon, nor were they occupying little kids who needed some help remaining quiet. They were in the hands of adults who were, ahem, multitasking during the sermon.

Preachers, the competition for the attention of the people sitting in front of you is fierce. Despite what you keep telling yourself, they’re not sitting out there reading their Bibles on their tablets while you preach. They’re checking email, reading novels, and sending tweets about what they had for breakfast. Unlike pulling out a four inch thick Steven King novel to read or pecking away at their laptop keyboard while you talk, their behavior is socially acceptable because they’re doing it on a tablet, e-reader, or smartphone.

How can preachers fight back against this onslaught of distracting technology that saunters into the gathering wearing its Sunday best and refusing to be ignored?

Here are a few suggestions.

1. Ask God to smite the first person who fires up his iPad for any reason other than reading his Bible this Sunday. This worked wonders in the early church (see Acts 5:1-16). If God won’t cooperate, station a sniper in the balcony with a Nerf gun. If this seems too harsh, I have other, less biblical, suggestions for you to consider.

2. Ban all technological gadgets from the gathering. In the old west, cowboys had to leave their guns at the door of the church before entering. (I have no idea if this is true, but if it’s not, it should be.) Some churches won’t let you take food or drinks into the auditorium. Why not add another line to the sign requesting people leave their technology in the car? I’m only half joking about this. Preachers should be challenging their churches to consider the addictive nature of their gadgets. If banning technology from the gathering seems Un-American to you, then you’ll have to work harder at keeping the attention of your audience, which leads to my next suggestion.

3. Employ the Seal Team Six method of sermon delivery. I plan on unpacking this more in a future post, but here is the summary.

Start off with a bang. Grab their attention in the first three minutes of your sermon. Shock, surprise, or bewilder them. Blow something up!

Attack with precision. Hit the ground running and purposefully make your way to the objective. Fire your weapon only when necessary. Don’t waste words or go on tangents. Stick to the mission. Have one big idea and communicate it with crystal clarity.

Get in and out as quickly as possible. If your sermon lasts longer than thirty twenty-five minutes you are jeopardizing the success of your mission. If you’re not sure a thought, point, or paragraph belongs in the sermon, cut it. No one will miss it. If you find quick-strike missions distasteful, then here’s my last idea.

4. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Give them something to do with their technology while you’re talking. Point them to some notes you’ve posted online. Ask them to tweet questions and feedback while you’re preaching. Have a contest that rewards the person who takes the best notes or comes up with the most clever sermon title for the podcast. Use what they’re bringing with them to your advantage.

These are my ideas, or at least the legal ones.

Please share yours in the comments.

*****

It was summer and the old man was curled in a fetal position under a heavy quilt. He was upset. He’d been having hard dreams that left him confused. He dreamt she was sick, but was going to get better. He dreamt she was about to die. He dreamt she had been dead for three days.

From each dream he would awaken to a new reality. He knew one of them was true, but he had no idea which one. He would speak his last dream to a nurse, as if it were true, and she would help him adjust to reality. He would grieve and then doze again only to awaken from another dream whose veracity could only be confirmed when spoken aloud.

His family walked into the room and gently nudged him awake. They would be going home soon, so they didn’t mind disturbing him.

He awoke with understanding. He knew where they had been. His wife had been buried just an hour before, while he was trembling in his bed. Alone for the first time in 65 years.

The family gathered around to say their goodbyes. He was enjoying a pocket of clarity that would last for a few minutes. He could remember names and faces and carry on a conversation.

Each member of the family took their turn, knowing this could be the last time they would ever speak to him: granddaughter, grandson, daughter-in-law, and then son.

The old man had something on his mind and he waited to tell it to his son.

“I’m worried,” he said.

“About what, Daddy?”

“I’m worried about your momma. That maybe she didn’t live right the last few days. That she won’t make it.”

The son’s gut tightened in sympathy for his father, while his heart pounded in anger towards the twisted religion that produced such a confession. His parents had been Christians all their lives. Not just occasional “Christmas and Easter Christians” either. They were “go to church every time the doors were open” Christians. Sunday mornings, Sunday and Wednesday nights, and special events and meetings. They were always there in the pew, demonstrating their faithfulness.

They were afraid not to be. They believed that to willfully miss a religious service would constitute rebellion against a God who loved them, but only up to the point of their obedience.

For God so loved the world he gave his one and only son, along with the Holy Bible, full of commandments, examples, and necessary inferences that must be obeyed by everyone wanting a fighting chance of going to heaven when they die.  This was the gospel they heard and obeyed. It’s the gospel they’d impressed upon their children, friends, and neighbors.

Their gospel said that the Bible tells us what God expects from us, and if we do what the Bible says, there is a good chance we will be saved, because Jesus died to forgive and save those who do their very best to please the Father, especially those who are passionate about restoring the ancient pattern of the New Testament church, as long as they are faithful unto death.

Good news shouldn’t have that many commas.

It was a grueling version of Christianity that left its adherents feeling superior to those who didn’t conform to their right way of reading the Bible, while at the same time leaving them feeling perpetually insecure about their future salvation.

How could you ever know that you were doing enough to please God? What if you made a mistake somewhere along the way that you didn’t catch, but God did? What if you sinned and never had a chance to ask for forgiveness before you died?

This is what the old man was worried about. Had his precious wife, in the last few days of her life, as she oozed in and out of consciousness, said, or maybe even thought, something sinful? What if she cursed God in a moment of pain? What if she doubted something essential to salvation in her final moments? What if in her delirium she had failed to confess her sins and died in a state of lostness? Had she been disqualified from the prize?

These were not the irrational fears of a senile old man. This was the code that had governed his life, and his son knew it. He recognized the insecurity in his daddy’s voice.

“All we can do is try our best and then hope that on the Day of Judgment we’ve done enough.”

“Take heed, lest you fall.”

“Faithful unto death.”

He’d heard his parents say these lines so many times that his heart was forever hardened against the church in which he was raised.

The son wasn’t sure what to say. He looked to the others for help, but they had nothing to offer but sad expressions. He knew it wouldn’t do any to challenge the old man’s beliefs this late in the game.

He also knew his daddy well enough to understand that he wasn’t just worried about his wife. He was worried about himself as well, that he wouldn’t remain faithful unto death. This was terrifying prospect for someone who believed in a God who refused to make exceptions.

“Don’t worry. Momma’s fine. She’ll be all right and so will you. You did the best you could. That’s all you can do. You get some rest and don’t worry.”

Soon enough the window of clarity would close and the old man would return to his dreams. His family slipped out of the room with moist eyes, knowing the old man would awaken later and relive it all over again. Their best hope was that if death didn’t take him soon, then senility would eventually envelope his religious insecurity in a random pattern of incoherent dreams and worry-free awakenings.

What do you do with a gospel that causes a frail old man to tremble in his bed because he’s afraid that his just buried wife of sixty-five years might not be waiting for him in heaven because she made a mistake on her death bed?

What do you do with a gospel that fills a dying old man’s mind with worry because after living a life dedicated to obeying God, he believes he still might lose the prize and fail to join his wife in heaven, assuming she was able to do her part to meet him there?

What do you do with a gospel that makes old men and women fearful unto death?

I say you call it false and cast it into the depths of hell, where it belongs and where there is plenty of room for it.

Just as there is plenty of room in heaven for two sincere, but spiritually tortured Christians like my grandma and grandpa.

Maybe after half an eternity with Jesus, they’ll finally accept that they have nothing more to worry about.

I’ve received a handful of responses from those struggling through a possible transition. I’m glad I wrote this book and I’m honored that others in the midst of difficult situations are finding it to be helpful.

Here’s some of what they’re saying:

“I just finished the book, and it has begun (or continued, rather) some ideas, healing, and understanding of the situation I’m in right now.  Just listening to your story helps me realize that others have been through similar junk before, and God will get us through it, most likely to bring us into a greater place of service to Him.”
—From a Reader’s Email

“Best things about the book: its simple structure, no nonsense directness, conversational style, regulated humor and practicality. This book is most excellent and will be helpful to many for years to come.”
—From a Reader’s Email

“Your writing is really straight forward without imposing guilt and shame. I never once flinched or felt like you were picking on preachers, or ridiculing, or belittling foolish decisions. I don’t know if I would have listened…but I wish I’d read it straight out of college!”
—From a Reader’s Email

“Just want to thank you for your book. It is a gift to me. It sheds a lot of light on my situation. Right before you have to leave you feel very lonely. You feel as if no one else can identify with you. This book came my way at such a time. Thank you so much for being a friend and someone who could identify with me at this awkward time in my life.”
—From a Reader’s Email

“I just finished it in one sitting. Literally couldn’t stop myself. I laughed (guffawed, really), cried, and definitely felt like he’d somehow been reading my mail. My wife and I are right in the thick of a potential transition and I found his work immensely helpful in determining our family’s next steps. Thanks a million, Wade!”
—David on Amazon

“As a ‘Veteran’ of full-time ministry for the past 28 years, I found your book to be pleasantly insightful, passionately inspiring, and personally challenging!!! There are two things that I plan to do with regard to this book: 1) HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT to as many people as I possibly can, especially those in ministry; and, 2) re-read this book on a regular basis (probably on an annual basis) to keep me grounded and honest with myself and my ministry!!!”
—Roger on Amazon

“This would have possibly saved me a lot of heart ache at my first vocational ministry. There is a great tension that lies between leaving to early and leaving long after you should have left. Wade delivers quick insight to help anyone navigate their current ministry and learn from a seasoned minister about the bumps in the road. I would highly recommend all college students read this before accepting their first ministry job and then current ministers should read to take a current inventory of their job status.”
—Lantz on Amazon

“From When to Leave, Wade issues humorous declarations shuffled alongside sobering ponderizations. One thing about Wade Hodges that has remained true from the get-go; regardless of personal injury and pain, he never quits imagining what God might do to guide us to our best. I like that about my friend.”
—Terry Rush on his blog

“Wade Hodges new book is probably one of the most quietly significant books that I have read in quite some time. This book is going to go into my rotation of books that I need to give to people.  This short book is an excellent framework from which to start wrestling through whether it is time for you to move on or not.  Reading the book with an open mind will give you a series of questions that every pastor should be asking himself (and those he trusts) on a regular basis… and probably should read before starting at a new church.”
—Matt Steen on his blog

“If you are a minister and you are considering leaving your current church (either by testing the waters with a few carefully submitted resumes or by responding to a few recent nibbles on your line), you ought to give Hodges’ book a read. It’s quick. It flows. It’s cheap (Amazon Prime members can download it for free, it’s $4.99 for the rest of you). And, most importantly, it’s honest. It’s full of the kind of wisdom you’d like to think you have swimming around somewhere down in your own gut, but even if it’s there, it’s more likely to surface if you let a book like this dredge it up.”
—Shane Alexander on his blog

You can download When To Leave here and Before You Go here or get a combined copy of both books here.

Just about every Christ-following CrossFitter I know struggles to manage the tension between being in love with a sport in which every second, every rep, and every pound counts and embracing a way of life in which our identity and sense of self-worth is found in the risen Christ rather than our performance at the gym.

This tension has been anchored deep in our psyche by a culture that continually broadcasts the message that our value as human beings and our achievements are inextricably connected. Many of us heard this message at a young age and believed it.  How could we do otherwise? The rewards for making good grades or excelling in sports were substantial.
It didn’t take long to figure out that self-improvement was the key to capturing the attention of our parents, teachers, and coaches and essential to gaining popularity among our peers.

I remember when I discovered in Jr. High that being the best basketball player on the court was the secret to making my dreams comes true. The more points I scored the more compliments I got from adults and the more notes I got from cute girls. In the eighth grade, my popularity skyrocketed because of basketball.

Throughout High School my identity was rooted in being a good basketball player. I took pride in being a four-year varsity starter, one of the leading scorers in the region, and for having the best free throw percentage in the state of Texas my senior year (91.9%).

It is unnecessary to share everything I just wrote in the previous sentence. Yet I felt compelled to include it because I desperately want everyone who reads this post to know that back in the day I was a legitimate athlete. I discovered CrossFit fifteen years too late to be a great CrossFitter, so I have to find other ways of validating my place in a roomful of fire-breathers. So I tell stories about the good ole days that pre-date Google and can’t be checked for accuracy.

Why do I find it necessary to do this? Because even though I’ve been a Christ-follower my entire life, I’ve always struggled to embrace the idea that my worth as a human being is determined by God’s love for me and not my athletic performance.

There’s an story in Bible about a group of people who get together to pool their wisdom, resources, and technology and start building a tower that reaches into the heavens. Their motive for undertaking a project that God says is a bad idea? “So that we may make a name for ourselves.” (Genesis 10:1-9)
Some things never change.

Our attempts to make a name for ourselves with our achievements stretch beyond ancient architecture and modern athletics. We can root our identity in our grade-point average, the number of people we slept with during college, how much money we make, the size of our house, the kind of car we drive, the label on our clothes, the level of knowledge and expertise we demonstrate in our work, and our religious activity.

One can argue that our desire to make a name for ourselves has led to countless achievements that have advanced our civilization and improved the human condition. One can also point to numerous examples of wildly successful people who are profoundly unhappy. Achievement is a great way to build a reputation, make money, and maybe even make the world a better place, but it’s a shaky foundation on which to base an identity.

You can read more about the connections between CrossFit and spiritual fitness in Train For Something Greater, available in Kindle format.

Read the following list out loud as many times as necessary (AMTAN) until you believe what it says.

Ready?

3-2-1 Go!

• I am not my “Fran” time.
• I am not my max snatch.
• I am not my ability to do a muscle-up.
• I am not the number of unbroken double-unders I can do.
• I am not my body fat percentage.
• I am not my position on the CrossFit Open Leader Board.
• I am not my performance.
• I am not my achievements.
• I am not my resume.
• I am a child of God.
• I am created in the image of God.
• I am loved by God regardless of my Fran time, max snatch or body fat percentage.
• I am saved, forgiven, and empowered by the Holy Spirit because of what Christ accomplished on the cross, not because of what I have done.
• I am a new creation in Christ.

This may be the longest, hardest WOD we’ll ever do. It’ll take many of us a lifetime to successfully complete, because no matter how many times we work our way through this list, there will always be a part of us that struggles to believe that what we’re reading is true.

Just about every Christ-following CrossFitter I know struggles to manage the tension between being in love with a sport in which every second, every rep, and every pound counts and embracing a way of life in which our identity and sense of self-worth is found in the risen Christ rather than our performance at the gym.

How do you manage this tension?

(This post was inspired by a post Jake wrote last week.)

You can read more about the connections between CrossFit and spiritual fitness in Train For Something Greater, available in Kindle format.

******

What Does Your Discernment Community Say?

“If you’re dumb, surround yourself with smart people. If you’re smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you.”
—Aaron Sorkin

What comes next is idealistic, unrealistic, naive, crazy talk. You probably won’t have the guts to implement what I’m about to describe.

Tragic.

But I understand why you won’t.

It could get you fired.

One autumn evening I called a meeting with the elders. I also invited our associate minister who was a trusted friend. We met at the home of one of the elders and sat in a circle on the back porch.

I spent the first few minutes summarizing the major events of my ministry there and being honest about my frustrations. I told them I was seriously considering other ministry opportunities.

Then I asked them, “Do you guys think it’s time for me to move on to something else?”

This is a dangerous question to ask an elder board. We’ve all heard the horror stories.

A pastor entertains a conversation with another church about an open position. Somehow the elders hear that he is visiting with another church and they call an emergency meeting to fire him. Sad and pathetic, but all too common.

You may be at a church where if you even hinted to your elders that you were thinking about leaving they would expedite the process for you, but that wasn’t my situation.

When I asked my elders if they thought it was time for me to leave, I wasn’t worried about being fired on the spot. I didn’t call the meeting to warn them or negotiate for a raise. I wanted them to help me discern what God might be wanting for me and my family. I valued their input and needed their wisdom. I trusted them to tell me the truth. I didn’t trust myself to make such an important decision in isolation.

I’ve never been involved in a discernment conversation that was crisp, clean, and certain. Most are a messy mix of meandering questions, crooked trails, and loose ends. This meeting was no different. After I posed the question, we went around the circle and everyone asked me a few questions and gave their opinions. We talked the sun down behind the horizon and kept the palaver going until the evening chill forced us inside.

I can’t remember everything that was said, but I remember leaving the meeting knowing that it was time to move on. Not so much because the group told me it was time to go, but because no one had said I definitely needed to stay. The questions they asked and the way they asked them helped me see that I had stayed too long.

I chose to include my elders and a co-worker in the discernment process. That made sense for me. We trusted each other. That may not be the right move for you. I would, however, encourage you to invite a small group of trusted people to join you in discerning what to do. Don’t ask them to make the decision for you. Let them ask you tough questions and do your best to give them honest answers. Ask their opinion about what they see and listen to what they have to say.

Also, pay close attention to what they choose not to say. They can help you make sure you’re not taking the easy way out or getting ready to run at the first sign of trouble.

Here’s a proposal: I’d like to see more pastors include their elder board in the discernment process when they’re interviewing with another church. (Cue gasp!)
Wouldn’t it be great if every ministry transition were governed by what is best for the Kingdom instead of by a spirit of competition or selfishness from church leaders who don’t want to lose their pastor to another church?

Super-duper crazy talk alert: What if, when a pastor was considering moving to a new church, he invited leaders from both churches to interact with each other as a way of discerning where God wants him to serve for the next few years? This seems so much better than clandestine conversations with search teams at out of the way Mexican restaurants. What an amazing vision it would require for the leadership teams of two churches to come together and discern which church the pastor should serve for the good of the Kingdom.

Okay, enough unreasonable craziness.

Do yourself a huge favor and include a group of people you trust in the discernment process. If you pick the right people, people who love you and want what is best for you, even if it isn’t what’s best for them, you’ll improve your chances of making a good decision.

What you think about my absurd proposal?

You can read more from When To Leave by downloading the Kindle version from Amazon.

Don’t have a Kindle reader?

Not a problem. It can be read on any device (Macs, PCs, iPads, iPhones, Android devices and Blackberries) with the Kindle reader app. (Available here)