Give him the jet; We made him

Share

Recently, several news networks carried the story of a Louisiana preacher named Jesse Duplantis who made a video appeal to his followers to help him raise $54 million dollars to purchase a new private jet (Thanks to my friend Heather for posting this story and bringing it to my attention). You can watch his full video here. According to Duplantis, the jet is necessary because his current jet is unable to go anywhere in the world on a single tank of fuel, whereas the new jet can. Therefore, being able to hop anywhere in the world "in one stop" will enable him to "preach the gospel all over the world" for cheaper.

Immediately after publishing the video, negative and critical comments started flooding in (rightfully so), enough that Duplantis appeared personally on news stations and even issued a second video on his website to defend himself.

We really shouldn't be surprised at the apparent greed of powerful men and the gullibility of their followers. Such realities have always existed both inside and outside the church. Selfish appeals from televangelists are also nothing new. Yet, while it's easy to condemn and criticize hucksters like Duplantis (and such criticisms are deserved), I couldn't help but wonder if we should go ahead and buy him his jet. After all, we are the ones responsible for his appeal.

Duplantis and his ilk do not arise out of a vacuum. The represent many of the values American Christianity and evangelicalism has come to extol, whether consciously or unconsciously.

First, American Christianity has always mirrored society in creating celebrity cults. Such celebrity worship is obvious in the broader culture. A perfect example is the recent multi-day hullabaloo over Roseanne Barr's racist tweet that led to her show getting cancelled. While an unfortunate reminder that racism is still very prevalent today, it was ridiculous how much airtime a single tweet received. Even more ridiculous was the fact that many respected news outlets talked about how the President of United States finally "broke his silence" about the tweet and the show's cancellation (as if the President has nothing better to do than weigh in on celebrity gossip and network lineups). The focus was not really about racism, but about the celebrity.

Sadly, the church is no different. We fill stadiums to witness the spectacle of preachers like Billy Graham, Joel Olsteen, Matt Chandler, Beth Moore, Rob Bell and countless others. Congregations are no longer satisfied with small communities, but must become "mega-churches" centered around a charismatic, well-groomed (often male) celebrity preacher. The best selling books in Christian bookstores are (not incidentally) written by pastors of said mega churches. Our worship leaders get major records deals and utilize the newest, hottest instruments, sound boards, and lights to give us spectacle worthy of U2 or Coldplay. We love our holy celebrities and are willing to pamper them like the kings and queens we believe they are. As such, we really have no right to critique Duplantis for acting like a celebrity when much of the country treats their own pastors the same way.

Second, American Christianity has implicitly taught that sharing the Gospel is the pastor/preacher's job. From the get-go, Duplantis assumes he needs a jet because he assumes it is his job to go across the world personally and speak about the "gospel." Sadly, such a perspective really should reflect a failure of his ministry more than a success in some ways. If his ministry were actually changing lives, then the fruit of that life change would be thousands or millions of folks who are also taking the Gospel into their own communities all around the world. He would not need to frantically fly all over the place. After all, Jesus only preached in a tiny square of the world, but his message is now reaching the ends of the earth because He created real, lasting, transformative change in His disciples.

However, before we criticize Duplantis, we must recognize that most of our churches operate in the same manner. It is the preacher's job to teach and preach, and our job to sit passively and absorb. We are instructed to "bring our friends" to worship services so they can hear the Gospel. Our pastors are seen as religious professionals and experts who do the "real work" of ministry. But this is not how it should be. A pastor's job is to equip the congregation to be the church in its community. Every member is a minister. As long as we continue to view our own pastors as the primary evangelist, teacher, and discipler, then we might as well support Duplantis in his effort to get a new jet because our ecclesiology supports his need to personally travel the world to accomplish his work.

Finally, American evangelicalsim believes in the same truncated gospel as Duplantis. Consistent in Duplantis' request is the idea that "the gospel" is all about "saving souls" in a spiritual sense. While the plan of salvation is certainly good news and of utmost importance, it is not identical to "the Gospel," at least not the one Jesus preached.

In short, the "Gospel" is the good news that the history of Israel is now fulfilled in the life, work, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ who is bringing His Kingdom to earth. This good news includes the plan of salvation, but is not limited to it. Implied in the gospel Jesus and His disciples preached is a demand to participate in God's Kingdom here and now, which means also working in physical, tangible realities, not simply abstract, spiritual truths. "Good news" means taking care of the poor and oppressed, standing up for truth and justice, and imagining creative ways to tell the story of God in our communities. It means confronting both the personal, invisible sins within each of us that keep us separated from God and confronting the societal, visible sins that alienate all of us from the good life God created in the beginning.

A $54 million jet has rightly been condemned as a wasteful expense when the same money could benefit so many other ministries who are proclaiming the gospel in more holistic ways. How many hungry children could we feed in our communities with that money? How many expecting mothers could we house who are debating abortion because of financial fears? How many Bibles could we print? How many water wells could we drill? How many foreign missionaries already embedded in foreign countries could we support?

But, maybe we don't deserve to ask those questions because many of us believe in the same gospel as Duplantis. We believe in a gospel which says the only thing that matters is getting people to "believe" and say a prayer. All that matters is "winning souls." If that is our gospel, then of course it makes perfect sense to send a man all around the world, pack stadiums and parks full of as many people as you can, and use lights and emotional music to prompt them to come to the altar. I'm sure you can efficiently rack up a ton of "decisions" with a private jet.

So, why not? It may seem crass, but his request may be an honest presentation of our biggest faults we hide under the rug as American Christians. So, let's buy him his jet. He might be more effective than us at fulfilling our own vision of church and the gospel after all.

Share

Jail, Incarnation, and the Digital Age

Share

Every day sees new technology coming into our hands.  Moore's Law famously observes that computer processing can be expected to DOUBLE every 18 months to 2 years. The saturation of technology into our world feeds on itself to promote exponential growth. As computers get faster, they can accomplish new tasks we could never dream of previously. The current trend is for computer systems to be sewn into every fabric of our lives, sometimes quite literally. Smart watches, smart TV's, smart thermostats, self-driving cars--everything is becoming interconnected, and these trends show no signs of slowing down. As we speak, major tech companies like Google, IBM, and Facebook are rushing to perfect artificial intelligence, which will completely revolutionize the way we relate to and utilize technology.

With technology constantly invading every sector of society, it's no surprise that it's changing the way many jails and prisons operate. One particularly novel development is the advent of "video visitations." Instead of a visitor sitting down with an inmate, they stand in a booth with a phone and a video screen (or sometimes use their computer from home) and chat with the offender. Right now, about 500 jails and prisons are using this technology. (You can read more about video visitation from this NPR article).

At first glance, there seem to be many benefits to video visitations. For one, a family member can visit with the offender even if they live on the opposite side of the country. From a prison security perspective, digital visitations also prevent the exchange of contraband and can better record visits.

But some advocates have raised the ethical concern about what such visitations are doing to inmate health and to the human relationships involved. As we all know, there is a substantial emotional and mental difference between visiting someone on a screen and visiting them in-person. For instance, my brother has been out of the country for the past several months, and it has been a blessing to be able to Skype with him several times during his absence. Yet, despite the amazing capabilities of that technology, it will be 100 times better when he is home for Christmas and I can hug him and sit next to him while talking.

The importance of personal interactions is even more precious for inmates and their families. NPR quoted one mother as saying, "I can't stand it, because he's on the screen in front of me, and I can't touch him." One might ask, though, if it bothers this mother so much, why doesn't she just ask for an in-person visit. Here's the kicker. When her son's prison installed the video visitation system, part of their contract with the system's company was that they would end in-person visits and only use the video visitation system. So, even though her son is only a few hundred feet from her in the prison, all she can do is see him on a small screen and listen to his voice through a low-quality phone line.

When asked about these concerns, some detention administrators simply make the argument that this is another right that the offender forfeits when they break the law. You break the law; you pay "hard time," and sometimes this means not being able to sit face to face with your loved ones.

For Christians, this is an issue we need to think about. While the video visitation technology is an amazing development, it should only be used as a supplement to in-person visitations. Taking away flesh and blood visits strikes at the very heart of our faith. The Christian faith is relational and incarnational at its core.

In the beginning God existed not just as a single being, but as a triad of relationships. He is three-in-one; relationships have mattered since before the beginning of time. Likewise, physicality matters. God was not content to simply create a bunch of minds or a spiritual world. Rather, he took on the task of creating matter and a physical world filled with bodies of flesh and blood and bone.

Finally, as we currently walk through the season of Advent, we are reminded that relationships work best in-person. After all, Jesus did not simply offer His revelation to us as a voice from a cloud. He did not simply appear as an adult who just needed to die for our sins. Rather, "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." Jesus was messily born as a tiny infant, experienced all of childhood, and walked dusty roads with friends and enemies as an adult.

Gregory of Nazianzus gave a theological reason why Jesus had to live the entirety of human life when he said, "What has not been assumed has not been healed." In other words, if we are saved through the person of Jesus, then only the parts of life that Jesus lived and experienced can be saved. Yet, it's telling that Jesus did not simply go through life stoically offering teachings. Instead, we see him caring for other lives, lifting the head of a dead little girl, touching a leper, sharing meals and partying. He lived out real-life, in-person relationships. It seems that personal human interactions were a part of life Jesus wanted to save.

When thinking about any new use of technology, people of faith need to be very wary of the possibility of dehumanization that is always lurking around. We see it in the crooked necks of our neighbors and family members glued to their phone screens. We see it in the redefinition of "friend" via social media. Massive data mining programs reduce individuals and personalities to ID numbers and a string of 0's and 1's. The siren call invites us to use technology to usurp authentic human relationships.

We also need to be wary of our natural lust for punishment and vengeance. It can be easy to dismiss the concerns by arguing that inmates and felons "don't deserve" in-person visitations. We lapse back into old arguments about how prison needs to be less comfortable and more punitive. Besides the fact that research suggests "hard time" is not effective at rehabilitation, such a mindset can actually add to the list of victims.

What often goes ignored is the negative impact on people besides the offender. What about the family and friends of the inmate? They didn't commit the crime. Is it fair or just to deprive a mother or a child of face-to-face interactions with their child or parent? Or what about those instances where a victim would like to face their offender and look them in the eyes? Will they be satisfied looking at eyes merely made of pixels?

These face-to-face interactions play a crucial role in our justice system. For both the offender and their visitors, these visitations can bring comfort, peace, understanding, grief, joy, and healing. When we strip the offender of human interaction, we also strip it away from others who may desperately want or need it too. We strip a part of their humanity. As Christians who believe in redemption, our goal for our justice system should be the rehabilitation of offenders and the healing of victims and family members. Punishment is not the Christian goal for justice.

We must seriously consider how the use of video visitation enhances or harms this goal of rehabilitation. If the incarnation of Jesus teaches us that there is something meaningful, and even holy, about interpersonal, flesh-and-blood interactions, then stripping away this dimension of human relationships will inevitably have consequences. We must ask whether taking away all in-person visitations will do more help or harm to all parties involved.

Defenses of only using video visitations are also foolish when they argue that the loss of touch and physical intimacy is simply a right that is forfeited in the course of breaking the law. For one, it naively puts too much trust in our justice system. Every defense attorney, judge, and prosecutor can point you to instances of wrongful conviction. There are many individuals sitting in prison who have been convicted of a crime they didn't commit because of some miscarriage of justice. Or what about in county jails (where such video systems are actually more likely to be used than in prison)? Most of those in county jail are awaiting a trial or plea deal and have not yet been found guilty. Is it just or humane to strip the wrongly convicted, the innocent, and those not yet guilty of the right to real human interactions?

Or should all crimes be treated equally in this manner? Even if we buy into the concept of "hard time," do a murderer and an occasional drug user both deserve the same punishment of not being able to touch or sit across from loved ones?

However, perhaps one of the most troubling aspects of all this is how dehumanization comes by way of the god of money. It's telling that the idea for going completely virtual with visitations did NOT originate with detention centers concerned about safety and prohibiting contraband. Rather, it seems to be an idea pushed by the tech companies involved. They are the ones requiring detention centers to only use their video systems. And it makes business sense--ending in-person visits means more money for the tech company.

Even worse, these tech companies invite jails and prisons to partake in this business by offering them a cut of the profits. While video-chatting at the jail is free, a family member who video-chats from home usually has to pay a fee, and this fee gets split between the tech company and the jail. In other words, the quality of human interaction is diminished, an extra barrier of cost is added, and detention centers can profit off of this. Similar to the risks involved with privately-ran prisons, the love of money and the need to make a profit can quickly eclipse human rights and dignity.

As Christians, this should alarm us. The incarnation and life of Jesus show us that relationships matter and people matter. So, whenever we see corporate profit being put above human well-being, we must stand up and speak. When the impersonal forces of money and business threaten to trump the personal dimensions of human relationships, we must object because we serve a personal, relational God.

There is something about sitting down a foot or two from another human being. When you can see, hear, touch, and smell them, something holy occurs. It's a precious space no technology can replace. I believe God designed us to crave and require such intimacy. And when that personal intimacy is removed, that's when we see people consumed by the demons in their heads and devolve in the monsters of our darker nature.

It doesn't matter who the person is--upstanding citizen or murderous felon. Jesus showed no favoritism. His incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection remind us that all are welcome to partake of redemption. So, may this Christmas season remind us that we were made for more than simply screens and phones and social media. We were made to touch and hug and love. And may we be a people of character and conscience who see trends like this and stand up for the most broken ones of our society.

God is with us, may we learn to truly be with others.

Faith and Economy

Share

This past week a study was released that estimated the economic impact of religion on the U.S. economy. The study concluded that the annual revenues of faith-based organizations totaled more than $378 Billion each year, making religion a bigger business than Facebook, Google, and Apple combined! If you read the actual study, you'll also see that the number could even be as high as $4 TRILLION, or nearly one quarter of America's GDP as the good folks over at Get Religion noted. Those are massive numbers!

While listening to NPR yesterday, one of the segments referred to this study. Since the study included organizations as varied as church congregations, social service agencies, and charities, the radio hosts asked the audience if they give to faith-based organizations. The responses were quite eye-opening.

Many (in fact most) of the callers I heard stated they did NOT give to churches or faith-based charities. The reasons given were several: Churches spend too much on themselves; faith-based charities don't offer anything non-faith based charities don't; I want to pay to help people, not to have someone preach; not enough money actually gets to people in need; there's not enough oversight or transparency. I was struck by the repeated cynicism.

However, my shock was likely due to the fact that I live within Christian circles. I have grown up around and worked with many Christian institutions that have done amazing good in communities. But perhaps these responses to the radio question reveal that much of our society does not automatically share that assumption. What do we do with this? What do we take away?

First, it would be rash to simply dismiss the criticisms. We could easily point to the fact that these faith-based charities have helped millions of lives. Or we could point to the largest faith-based sector--healthcare. An estimated 1 in 6 hospital beds in our country belong to a Catholic health system. One response to point out that religion both boosts the economy and helps millions of lives. However, maybe we should approach these criticisms with a bit more humility. Is there any truth to their concerns?

I think many of the concerns I heard on the radio were valid. When it comes to faith-based charities, I think many Christians will blindly give because an organization claims to be "Christian" without doing enough research into how effective the charity actually is. There may indeed be secular organizations that are run more effectively and have better research to support their methods, but sadly many Christians will give money to the one with the "Christian" name.

The same applies to media and entertainment. A "Christian" movie with sub-par plot and production values will be released and Christians will dump their wallets for it because it has a "Christian message." Or we will choose to donate money to Christian radio stations in order to hear more overly-produced, shallow theology, lacking-creativity songs, rather than donate to a public radio station that often prizes journalistic integrity and meaningful, original discussion.

The correlation between religion and money should give us pause, particularly when we see these tendencies among Christians. It is far too easy for Christians to be duped into a shallow commercialism as a substitute for our faith. Greed among both Christians themselves and those marketing to Christians is too strong a temptation. Yes religion is big business, but maybe it shouldn't be quite as big.

Second, we need to listen to the hesitations about giving to faith-based institutions when it comes to local congregations. After faith-based health care, one of the next largest economic segments was individual church congregations. Americans give nearly $75 billion per year to individual churches and religious congregations. In listening to the comments on the radio, this was the type of giving about which people seemed to have the greatest reservations.

But, truth-be-told, I too have big reservations in this area. It's no secret that the majority of the budget for most congregations is spent on the building and grounds. Whether it's a small, dying church overpaying to maintain an aging building, or a megachurch dropping millions for a new state-of-the-art facility complete with stage lights, smoke machines, and a coffee bar, the mentality is the same. I find this a particularly uncomfortable position when I read passages in Scripture, such as Acts 7 where Stephen is killed for challenging the idea that God can be contained to a physical building.

For years churches have assumed that people would give money to them. Or, when giving has waned, we have relied on a good sermon on "tithing" to guilt people into giving. However, those days may be fading fast. If congregations want people to give money, particularly younger people like myself, they will need to re-evaluate how they are spending that money. If congregations continue to spend the vast majority of their budgets on buildings, salaries, and internal programs rather than on ministry to their community, it will be harder and harder to justify the morality of such giving to its members or to the world.

Third, the criticisms of faith-based giving should illuminate a false assumption the church has helped promote. In listening to the various comments on the radio, there was a latent assumption in many of them that faith-based work was somehow inferior to government or secular social services. Embedded within this assumption is the belief that faith-based groups and congregations are primarily focused on "the spiritual." "Yes, churches may give back to their community, but that's not their primary calling," or so the thinking goes.

But churches have also unwittingly pushed this belief. By taming the Gospel down to a mere mental agreement with a set of propositions ("I'm a sinner"--"Jesus died for me"--"If I believe in Him I can go to heaven"), and by reducing our eschatology to an escape to a non-physical dimension called "heaven" we have set up the narrative that the church (and anything relating to faith) is only secondarily concerned with the physical world and with societal concerns. We reason: If it doesn't relate to something "spiritual" or pertain to saving a person's soul, then it doesn't matter.

This is a gross misunderstanding of the Gospel Jesus preached. The Gospel Jesus preached is not about getting into a spiritual realm called heaven; it is about declaring a new allegiance to a Lord and a Kingdom that challenge the empires and powers of the world. A proper understanding of the Gospel should teach us that faith is as much about physical manifestations of grace, mercy, and forgiveness in the world as it is about the personal, inner manifestations of those dynamics of those things. If the church itself could recapture this Kingdom vision of the Gospel, then perhaps the world around us would be less likely to believe the false division between faith, spirituality, and work in the real world.

Finally, this study and the resulting comments should prompt the us to remember religion's broad impact upon society. Our faith not only impacts people's lives in a personal, inward manner, but it has also profoundly shaped our culture for the better. If it were not for religion, there would be far fewer hospitals in our country. If it weren't for the role of faith, countless additional Americans would go hungry and be homeless each year. If it weren't for people and organizations of faith, many orphans and refugees would not be alive today.

The cynicism I heard on the radio tended to too quickly dismiss the massive force of this positive impact. But I can't help but wonder if it's because we as Christians have also neglected this aspect of our faith. As mentioned in my previous point, we have relegated faith to the realm of the personal and metaphysical. Studies like this one should remind us that there is so much more to our faith than that. It should inspire us to continue the work of social justice and compassion for our neighbors. It should drive us to become even more creative within our culture. We can't force outsiders to our faith to accept the positive role of religion in society, but we can live out our faith in such a way that it makes it impossible to ignore this positive impact.

In summary, this study should cause people of faith to both be thankful and to practice introspection. We may be thankful that our faiths have contributed so much good to society. However, we should also take a hard look at our practices and use of money to see when the criticisms of outsiders may in fact be warranted. To do any less would be to forsake our calling in the world.

Imagination for Construction

I just came across an article discussing the Air Force's new stealth bomber that is in development. Not much is known about the plane beyond the fact that it will be stealthier, have the ability to fly manned or unmanned, and will be able to drop bombs deep into enemy territory without detection. Oh, and we have this teaser photo released by the Air Force.

My initial reaction was to drool a little bit. As a kid I was always fascinated with the F-117 and B-2 stealth aircraft. They reminded me of something out of a sci-fi movie, but they were real planes. Couple that with my initial interest in aerospace engineering in high school and I found myself looking at the above pic thinking, "Sweet."

However, that sweetness also comes at a cost--$550 million A PLANE! The Air Force plans to build 100, which will bring the total cost to roughly $55 billion (and that's a conservative estimate).

This led me to step back and think. We are going to spend half a billion dollars (probably closer to three-quarters of a billion dollars when it's all said and done) for a single plane that's sole purpose is destruction. Because, at the end of the day, unlike troops themselves or many other aspects of our military that can be used for engineering purposes or nation building, a stealth bomber only really has a single purpose--to spy and destroy.

At this time, I don't want to get into discussions about just war, drone strikes, pacifism or the like. That discussion is always with us. And of course, we could get bogged down in whether or not our government is justified in spending that kind of money (to protect our security, to protect the world, to ensure freedom, etc.) But instead, I want us to focus on something else.

Rather than debating the rightness or wrongness of military force or of potential excessive government spending, I want to imagine an alternative reality. What could possibly happen in our world if the Air Force decided to build 99 of these planes instead of 100, and chose to donate the extra $550 million elsewhere? What else could that same money be spent on?

What if we used that money to build infrastructure and bring aid to the people of Syria and Iraq who are oppressed by ISIS? Might this undermine ISIS's legitimacy so we don't even need that bomber?

What if we used that money to address childhood hunger, either at home or abroad?  And not just throwing money at a problem, but using the money to actually research how to deal a death blow to hunger.

What if that money were used to bring thousands of people across Africa clean drinking water, or assistance to help with farm sustainability to reduce famine? After all, lack of food is a primary cause of war, poverty, and unrest in the region, and water-borne illnesses kill hundreds of thousands of people each year.

What if the money were used to redo city infrastructures in impoverished areas? Or provide funding to domestic violence shelters or child abuse centers? What if it were used to provide 0% interest loans to promising entrepreneurs and businesses that hold the potential to improve society and our world?

The possibilities are endless, and all it really costs the Air Force is 1 plane. Do we really need 100 of these machines in the world, or can we get by with 99? Can we sacrifice the lethality of one weapon to use the money to bring more peace and wholeness to our world than any single plane could destroy?

Of course, this will probably not happen. But I believe a key part of the Christian social ethic is imagination. We need to imagine a world that looks different than the status quo. We need to tap into the creative inspiration of the Creator Himself to imagine alternatives to violence, hate, racism, partisanship, and other evils that plague our world. We need to imagine because we are called citizens of a Kingdom that is slowly invading our world. If we fail to stretch our imaginations, then we will find ourselves giving into the narratives and logic of worldly powers.

So, what are your ideas. If the Air Force sacrificed one plane and handed you $550 million, how would you use it to build God's Kingdom and construct a better world?

Faithfulness or Ambition

I'm at an interesting point in my life right now. I finished my master's degree right at a year ago now and have thought a lot recently about future plans. At the same time, many of my friends have also recently finished their degrees and are moving on to new jobs and new cities. And yet, I am still here in Marlin working two jobs, one of them being the part-time youth pastor job I've have for 4 years now.

I would be lying if I said there weren't days when I wonder if it's time to move on and pursue a new job. After all, there are many reasons to start a new phase in my life. I could consolidate into a single (better paying) job. This would also free up time to spend with my family. I could find myself at a bigger church in a bigger town with bigger opportunities. I have a better degree than four years ago which could open up new possibilities. And, we could move closer to family to have free babysitters (aka grandparents).

However, despite all the reasons to leave, we are still here. Why?

Because I want to believe in faithful ministry. Yes, it would be easier to pack things up and seek a new, great opportunity for me and my family, but part of ministry means considering those to whom you are actually ministering. In the case of my church, my family feels a need to stick around a little longer. When I came, the church had seen 4 pastors in the previous decade and as many youth and children's pastors. Needless to say the church has grown accustomed to pastors coming and going every few years.

But I can't help but wonder if this is good. Sometimes I wonder if pastors are truly driven by God's call on their life or if they are driven more by ambition.

I suppose some could accuse me of having a lack of ambition. "Why don't you go pastor your own church? You've got a degree, do something with it! You've got so much talent, why waste it on little old Marlin?"

But I know my own heart, and the truth is I have too much ambition. I lust after those dream jobs. I dream of becoming a famous pastor, writer, teacher, etc. It's too easy for me to salivate after a community that would "actually respond". Yes, there is plenty of ambition in my heart, but I know what I also need is faithfulness.

Too many pastors are adept at the art of "church-jumping." They see an opportunity that is attractive (and just so happens to pay better as well) and find themselves resigning from their current church because "God is calling them" to such and such a church.

Now, I'm not saying that every pastor who leaves a church is like this. I believe there are many genuine calls from God to move. However, I also know it can be very easy to confuse God's voice with our own lusts, whether they be for power, prestige, or money.

Why do I stay in Marlin? Call it an experiment in faithfulness. I want to believe that God is found as much in the weak and little places as in the big and powerful places. I want to believe that amazing things can happen when we stick it out through the tough times and remain faithful. But most of all, I want to be very wary of "following my heart" before following Christ.

I'm sure one day God will call me and my family to someplace else, but when that time comes I want to make sure of a few things. I want to know for sure that it is God's voice and not simply mine, and I want to know for sure that I have done all I can do in my present location and ministry. And perhaps the American church could benefit from faithfulness like this. Maybe we as pastors need to stop bowing to the celebrity cult our churches want and bow down the the Messiah who conquered sin and death with a cross--a tool that stands for weakness, humility, and foolishness.