Facing evidence of it’s impending demise, the church in North America is scrambling for ways to attract new adherents by becoming more culturally relevant. “We’re not going to reach today’s younger generation by clinging to organizational habits and worship styles that were popular fifty years ago.” is the mantra oft-repeated by proponents of change. I have been sympathetic to this call. I believe that many churches have made an idol out of mid-twentieth century Americana: the church buildings, archaic language, and musical styles of a bygone era. Yet a revival of the church will require far more than trading one idol for another.

Today’s so-called ‘culturally relevant’ churches have offered up a new breed of ‘dude’ pastors with rock-star personas to reverse the decline of the church. They’ve eschewed classroom-based discipleship in favor of personality-driven activism. They’ve traded stained glass for multi-media and surround sound. They have auditoriums instead of sanctuaries, bands instead of choirs, and small groups instead of Sunday school classes. It seems like we’re emulating virtually everything Hollywood does to pack in the crowds and, if numbers are any indicator, it seems to be working in some cases. Yet could our new cultural relevance become a new idol?

What is the church doing to attract people that is different from what the entertainment industry does to attract them? After forty years of active involvement in Baptist churches and over twenty years of service as a pastor, I’ve discovered some things about myself that just might be my personal keys to understanding how we can reverse the decline of the church in North America.

• I’d rather be loved by ordinary people than entertained by superstars.
• I’d rather be annoyed by too much attention than lonely from inattention.
• I’d rather make one new friend that to be surrounded by a multitude of friendly people whose lives are too full for me.
• I’m more interested in being useful than in being comfortable.
• I’d rather be told the painful truth about myself than to be patronized and marginalized until I go away.

Are those who are abandoning the church much different from me? Perhaps the disease afflicting the North American church is not cultural irrelevance; perhaps this is just the symptom. Perhaps our real problem is that we just stopped loving people like we used to. Lord Jesus, have mercy on us!

I often talk with people who yearn for guidance from a Higher Power. Most work hard and live responsible lives. Yet they long to understand the greater purpose for which God created them. They desire honest appraisals of their talents and shortcomings. They seek direction in life’s crucial choices. They crave affirmation; they want to know that they’re on the right path. Theirs is not a self-serving hunger for success. Rather, they aspire to be faithful and useful. They want to please their Creator and add value to the lives of others. Yet they are restless, often questioning, “Could I do more?” or “Should I do something different?”

Sometimes I encounter people who are extraordinarily confident that they are doing exactly what God has destined them to do. Some use unequivocal language such as, “God called me to do this.” Others engage in bold enterprises with no doubt that God will bless their labor. Such people project an assurance that makes others hesitant to question their choices. When they succeed, they claim God’s favor. When they fail, they may re-frame their endeavors or blame others. A few will say simply, “I was wrong.”

Some people bounce from one thing to another, proposing that God is leading them to do this or that, yet never really establishing a consistent trajectory. They want to do what is right yet begin doubting their decisions almost as soon as they make up their mind. People with this mindset entertain grand thoughts about their futures. Typically they do just enough to get by. They end up living under-productive lives.

Our society is ruthless toward the indecisive yet suspicious of the overly self-assured or self-described “God-assured.” We applaud the successful who credit God for the gifts and opportunities they have been afforded. Yet we question those who promote themselves as chosen vessels for the Lord’s work. When the artist touts, “It wasn’t me; it was God!”, we muse, “Man, it was good but it wasn’t that good.”

Have you wondered what life would be like if God just told you what to do with an audible voice? All ambiguity would be erased; we’d have only one decision, to obey or to rebel. Would you be comfortable with that? Do you prefer the ambiguity, some “wiggle room”, so to speak.

While we may not have the advantage of audible directions from God, there are certainly ways we can increase our clarity and confidence when it comes to making life-directing choices. We can start by strengthening our relationships with fellow believers, being honest with them about our struggles, soliciting their observations, and listening. God often speaks through the counsel of the Body of Christ.

The qualities that enable us to live fruitful lives are not developed in isolation. We discover our greatest value, and perhaps our greater purpose, in the context of community. As we observe the lives of people and engage them in meaningful conversations, we nurture our relational intelligence. We listen and become aware of people’s needs, their hopes, and their dreams. We give and discover what adds value to their lives. We develop our skills and learn to better meet their needs. This is the grand experiment: we fail; we succeed; we learn.

My challenge to you today is to seek and to nurture close relationships in a healthy church-community. As people get to know you better, they’ll see your strengths and your shortcomings more clearly. If you listen peaceably to them, you’ll find that they have valuable insights about you to share with you. Hear them and honor their voice as a means through which the Creator speaks to you. Even if you feel you must go against their counsel, you’ll still find value in their warnings. This kind of openness is scary but it is the pathway to clarity, confidence, and humility, qualities that contribute to a healthy, productive life.

Passion has several components; I’ll discuss three. First, passion is spiritual. It is breathed into you by your Creator. There is something in each of us that says: “I’m not an accident! I’m not some chance event created by a random assembling of molecules! I have design and purpose! I was born for a reason! The world needs me!”

Secondly, passion is prophetic. As you look this world, you are struck by a sense that something is broken. Something is wrong! Something in this world could be better! The feeling could be profound: assailing grief over abject poverty in sub-Saharan Africa, frustration over lives wasted for lack of opportunity in an urban slum, compassion over the plight of families of chronically ill children. The feeling might seem simple, even self-centered, yet suggest a larger value: “Man, nobody can get a good cheeseburger in this town!”

Thirdly, passion is visionary. It drives you to do something about the thing that is broken. Passion is the feeling that will not let you rest until you do something about it! It is the place to which your thoughts go constantly asking the question, “What can I do?”

It is not unusual for a person to ignore or to suppress her passions. God-given passions often emerge during adolescence, at a time when one is least likely to direct them constructively. Well-meaning parents and counselors may see them as unhealthy obsessions. They might encourage their youth toward more “practical” pursuits. Yet passion, when harnessed, is the foundation of a powerful and productive life.

The key to harnessing your passion is to connect it to a viable purpose. Passion asks the question, “What can I do?” Purpose answers the question, “What can I do?” Purpose factors your personality, talents, training, and experience. Turning your passion into purpose requires focus, discipline, and hard work! It solicits help from others, honest, even brutal feedback, and accountability. This is the narrow path. Those who choose it will find joy because they will make a difference in this world. Those who reject it will become bitter because they will always see the thing that is broken and never acknowledge any responsibility for it.

For discussion: What’s your passion? How will you turn it into purpose?

People who are powerful, successful, and highly regarded can be intimidating. Because of this, the rest of us may hesitate to hold them accountable, especially when we observe them in alleged “minor” offenses. I may have enough chinks in my own armor to make me think twice about confronting flaws I see in someone who has far more credibility and influence than me. Perhaps I fear that such a person could hurt me. Just a casual slight or dismissive comment from him could cause opportunities I might otherwise have had to vaporize. Faced with these fears, I just suck up to “the man”.

When a powerful person falls into sin, it’s not unusual for those who surrounded him to admit that they saw it coming. Little compromises, time and money unaccounted for, and the unexplained departures of previously trusted colleagues all pointed to trouble. Yet the loyal followers chose not to raise questions. For them it must have felt like a lose/lose proposition: “If I’m wrong, I’m humiliated. If I’m right, the gig is up. It’s safer to live in denial.” Yet I wonder how many great people could have been saved from disgrace if their followers had had the courage to hold them accountable.

So what do these observations mean for you?

If you are a leader, don’t be threatened by people who seek to hold you accountable. Don’t be put off by those who ask the hard questions, even if they come across as skeptical. These skeptics are giving you an opportunity to win their trust. They can become your most loyal supporters if you take the time to answer their questions honestly and transparently.

If you’re a loyal supporter, don’t be afraid to ask honest questions of your leaders. Ask with a positive expectation, not a tone of skepticism. A wise leader will take your courage to ask tough questions as an indication that you fully expect reasonable answers. He’ll know that you’re not one to live in denial and will view this as a sign of integrity.

If you’re one who feels like you’ve been marginalized because you’ve expressed concern to a leader, examine your motives. Were you motivated by the best interests of your organization or were you merely seeking to increase your personal power? Were you encouraged when a situation you identified was resolved or were you jealous when the leader heeded your warning yet choose to resolve the problem without your involvement? If you continue to be troubled because your concerns remain chronically unanswered, you should ask yourself the question, “Can I walk away peacefully?” You do have a responsibility to confront and to expose, if necessary, unlawful or immoral behavior of which you are aware. You do not have a right to broadcast every suspicion you might imagine just because your questions have not been answered to your satisfaction. Structures of accountability, especially in large organizations, must be reasonable, lest they place an undue burden on the leaders. You don’t necessarily have a right to know everything.

Finding cohorts and leaders with who you can build a high level of trust is not easy. First you must trust God; believing that He will protect you even if you get burned. Secondly, you must risk being authentic. Don’t reinvent yourself for the purpose of impressing a leader or fitting into a group. The best way to find your people is to be yourself. Third, you must take some risk by anteing trust to your cohorts, exercising patience, and letting trust grow. Trust grows at different rates for different people. Forth, you must forgive.

I’ve been asking myself these hard questions lately: Do I trust God? Do I trust Him enough to protect every opportunity to which He has called me? Am I willing to accept cheerfully the opportunities He gives me? Do I believe that my fate lies in God’s hands and not in human hands? Am I comfortable with the idea that God’s plans for me might involve suffering? Am I willing to hold others accountable, no matter how powerful or influential they might be? Am I willing to be an authentic person even if it means being marginalized by those in power? Am I willing to repent when I’m wrong? Am I willing to take responsibility when my failures are exposed?

Lord, please give me the courage to be all that you created and saved me to be!

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you. 4Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, 5so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. 6We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man’s gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his[b]faith. 7If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; 8if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully (Romans 12:3-8, NIV).

“So, this furniture isn’t even a year old yet, no dings, no scratches, nothing on them, *I’m a bit of a clean freak/neat freak when it comes to my things* I bought this set for over $4,000…”

This is the actual picture–a TOTAL “clean freak/neat freak”, wouldn’t you say?

As a young man I was thoroughly infatuated with my vision for life. I was driven to achieve and to produce. I believed that my achievements would validate my life. I learned to be articulate and persuasive, to be passionate about my vision and to infect others with that passion. Yet I was egocentric. I tried to love people but my thoughts always came back to me. I tried to listen to people but my mind always drifted toward the things that I wanted to get done. As I’ve entered midlife, I’ve begun to grieve over these tendencies because I know that I’ve hurt a lot of people by being this way.

Today I’m just trying to learn to love. I feel like I understand for the first time what Paul meant when he said, “If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal” (I Corinthians 13:1, NIV).

Perhaps the key to loving the person in front of you is letting go of the vision that is driving you. A friend recently told me that the way to love is to live in the present, not in the future. This is hard for someone who’s a Myers-Briggs “N” off the chart. Yet Jesus did say “do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:34, NIV). I guess I’m just starting to get this one too.

I still have vision but I try to yield it to God every day. If the vision truly is from God, He will bring it to pass as I live today, just as He did with Joseph. Jesus’ yoke is easy. Obsessing over the future just makes it seem harder.

So what do older guys have to offer? Perhaps it is just more experiences to confirm what we must acknowledge from the very start. It’s all grace, man!

There are advantages to calling outsiders to fill staff positions. Often churches benefit from the fresh perspective that is brought by an outsider. Also, the culture dissonance that is created by an outsider can be a healthy thing if it is handled with wisdom and grace. Further, churches that desire to increase their diversity for the sake of Christ’s Kingdom can gain substantial momentum by recruiting leaders who come from a different cultural background. Even a bad experience with an imported staff member can be valuable if it helps the church clarify her mission and values.

Because we all have blind spots, it helps to have our worlds rocked by outsiders on occasion. Otherwise we can become victims of cultural inbreeding, where, “Everyone we know thinks just like we do.” Thus healthy churches raise up leaders from within and also are secure enough to risk calling leaders from without.

Clearly, those who founded our nation were guided by Christian values. Even those who were not Christians respected the moral precepts found in the Bible. For generations our laws were crafted in accordance with the teachings of Scripture because so many of our leaders were Christians. Yet, because the United States is a representative democracy, the character of her government and the substance of her laws are ultimately subject to the values of her citizens. If our citizens become less Christian, so will our laws.

Unfortunately, many of us take for granted the degree to which our culture is under-girded by Christian values. When we mail letters, we expect them to be delivered. We don’t think of bribing postal clerks to ensure their delivery. We expect our neighbors to tell the truth, to act responsibly, and to treat us respectfully. We expect creditors to pay their debts. We expect our government to enforce justice, to protect the innocent, and to restrain the wicked. When they don’t, we’re outraged. Thus we live in relative peace and prosperity. Yet this could all change if the influence of Christian values on our government is seriously eroded.

I’m grateful for the privilege of voting. When I cast my ballot, I vote unapologetically for candidates who most reflect Christian values. When I pray for public officials, I ask God to guide them to make decision that are consistent with the values of Christ. I believe that the values of Christ’s Kingdom facilitate the most just and most free society for all citizens.

I often hear well-meaning Christians say, “You can’t legislate morality.” This is a statement that collapses upon itself. Every law is based on some moral foundation, whether it be Judeo-Christian, or Hindi, or Sharia. A government could sanction the burning of a dead man’s surviving wives on his funeral pyre rather than allowing them to become indigent. Another would be outraged by such a practice and legislate against it. Every law enforces someone’s morality. The only question is, “Whose?” If you can’t legislate morality, you can’t legislate anything.

You might argue that sexual morality can’t be legislated but you are going to have to draw a line somewhere. A society that overlooks rising sexual promiscuity will be forced to deal with more victims of sexual exploitation. The Law of Christ is not without reason; His law is for our good.

In conclusion, I’m grateful to live in a country that allows us to choose how we will be governed. Democracy is our safeguard against tyranny. It is our opportunity to promote social justice. It is our grave responsibility. If we are to preserve the influence of Christianity in our culture, we must persuade our fellow citizens to embrace Christ the King… and challenge them to vote!

Let me illustrate: If you were considering hiring Penn State football coach, Joe Paterno, as a coach but did not know him very well, would you consider trying him out at middle line backer and, if he did well, making him a coach? Of course not. Joe has virtually no value as a line backer but extraordinary value as a coach. The question is: how do you discern that value when your own coaching experience is limited? To be continued…

The first error identified by JD is not limited to so-called liberals. It has become common for conservative evangelicals to align ourselves with other social conservatives in promoting our moral agenda through social and/or political action. While the church has a prophetic responsibility to expose immorality, we take great risk when we align ourselves with those who are not committed to the gospel. First, the lost are likely to perceive us as bullies. This is inevitable because so-called allies who preach moralism apart from the gospel are bullies. They are no different from the Pharisees whom Jesus condemned. Secondly (and this is the greater risk), Christians begin to lose the distinction between living out the gospel and living under the law. We start to look like the Galatian church: “After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?” (Galatians 3:3, NIV). Evangelicals are known historically for preaching the gospel and calling it evangelism. Shall we become known for preaching the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People and calling it discipleship? Does the gospel make any difference? I invite your comments.