On Publishing a Book—Four Years Later

In 2011, high on being a college senior, I was invited to write a book for my college’s publishing wing on some research I’d been doing on social media and spiritual formation.

I. Thought. I. Was. Amazing.

On paper, it was—I wrote a book at 22, got it published, and get a check from royalties every six months. (Let’s just say it’s usually enough for my wife and I to have a meal at the local diner. I’m not talking Scrooge-McDuck-swimming-in-money royalties here.)

To be honest, I’ve not read the book since it was published. When I try, I usually can’t handle more than a paragraph, because it induces that feeling I get when I listen to an audio recording of my voice: ew.

Today I spent a couple of minutes Googling the book, and did what I shouldn’t do—read some reviews on Amazon. Here’s what I learned.

Taylor Swift is right: haters gonna hate. Seriously, people are nasty online. Good reviews are even a little tepid: “It was OK.” When it’s a bad review, I sound like a luddite ogre who thinks far too much of himself. Writing a book is hard—getting feedback is harder.

Once the book is done, it’s done. I look back and sometimes feel like people are right: I do sound like a luddite ogre who thinks far too much of himself. When I wrote the book, I was proud, I thought I was all that. I was a second-semester senior at a school of over-achievers given a chance to achieve big when I was given the contract. So of course the book drips with a sense of certitude. The problem is, I would write it differently now, but I can’t. Books are weird because they so reflect where you were in that particular stage of life, and the tone seeps through. Now it’s just awkward because people think of me as the me I was four years ago, not the me I am now: (hopefully) more nuanced, humble, and measured in my opinions.

Writing a book isn’t that big of a deal. People are publishing books all day, every day. What was once a stellar accomplishment, achieved by only a few, is now something any guy with a computer can do. So while writing a book feels like a big deal, it’s not. So if you’re an author, simmer down. If you’re a wannabe author whose blogging like crazy, don’t let a published book be the goal post. Because it will hit the shelves, you’ll cash the advance—and you’ll still be you.

Let’s be clear about something: I am tremendously, deeply grateful to those that picked my book and made it their project. But it didn’t change me the way I thought it would, and I’m still me—living my life, which is a mixture of up and down and great and OK and, sometimes, not great.

But every once in a while, I get a check in the mail and take my wife out to dinner at the diner down the street—and it’s always a good date.

2016, So Far—In Books

I read—a lot; when my mind isn’t engaging with new ideas, I’m not at my best. Here’s what I’ve been reading since the year started (and a few I read right as 2015 reached an end).

Bible and Theology

Most books on theology and Scripture are used as I prepare a sermon series—either so I can understand a key theme in the book I’m working through, or for my own personal engagement.

Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin by Cornelius Plantinga Jr.

Look to the Rock: An Old Testament Background to Our Understanding of Christ by Alec Motyer

The New International Version Application Commentary: Exodus by Peter Enns

The Five Books of Moses: A Translation and Commentary by Robert Alter

I first read Robert Alter’s text on Old Testament narrative in college; his translation and commentary of the first five books of the Old Testament are great fun to read, and his notes on the text are immensely helpful for understanding how Hebrew narrative works.

Mark (N. T. Wright for Everyone Bible Study Guides) by N.T. Wright

I used N.T. Wright’s guide for my own personal study and benefitted greatly. I’m now working my way through his study on Revelation.

Ministry and Leadership

Lately I’ve focused less on books on leadership and more on books on discipleship, preaching, and culture. Here’s some highlights.

Building a Discipling Culture by Mike Breen

This is the book that gives language to discipleship—the book I’ve been looking for.

515XatoWK1L._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg Preaching: Communicating Faith in an Age of Skepticism by Tim Keller

It’s been a really long time since I read a book on preaching, but boy am I glad I read this one. I devoured this volume in a weekend and it’s been tremendously helpful to my preaching in the last few months. It’s quick, helpful, and like all Keller books, filled with thoughts you just didn’t see coming.

Fool’s Talk: Recovering the Art of Christian Persuasion by Os Guinness

One-to-One Bible Reading by David Helm

This is the tool I’ve been looking for in making disciples for a long time.

Science Fiction and Fantasy

I’ve been reading sci-fi and fantasy novels since The Lord of the Rings captured my imagination in middle school. I usually read these novels before bed, to get out of my head and relax.

Morning Star: Book III of The Red Rising Trilogy by Pierce Brown

Where the second book in a trilogy is usually the weakest, Morning Star was the hardest book to slog through in this series.

The Autumn Republic: Powder Mage Series Book 3 by Brian McClellan

The Crimson Campaign: Powder Mage Series Book 2 by Brian McClellan

Caliban’s War: The Expanse Book 2 by James S.A. Corey

The Expanse is now a television drama on the SyFy channel; the first book in this series was tremendous, and each successive volume has been a great read.

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

Gatefather: A Novel of the Mither Mages by Orson Scott Card

Orson Scott Card has been a favorite author since high school, when I read Ender’s Game. The Mither Mages series is been classic card: imaginative, fun, with memorable characters.

On Becoming a United Methodist: The Opportunities Before Us

This is the third part of a four-part series in which I reflect on my journey toward becoming one of Wesley’s people—a pastor in the United Methodist Church. You can read part one, I’m not Crazy, right here. You can check out part two, Ringside with Calvin and Wesely, right here. Check out the third post, Hurdles to Renewal.

I recently came across a Wesley quote that I just had to sit with for a while:

I continue to dream and pray about a revival of holiness in our day that moves forth in mission and creates authentic community in which each person can be unleashed through the empowerment of the Spirit to fulfill God’s creational intentions.

As I said when I first read it: wow. As it turns out, Wesley’s dream and prayer is my dream and prayer—not only for the Methodist Church but for the Church Universal. When I think about the Methodist Church, I often have this gut feeling that there is so much potential for us to leverage.

Sure, that potential might be latent—but if we could recover Wesley’s vision for our movement, we could become a powerful force for spiritual renewal on a global scale. In fact, in some corners, we already are. Here are some opportunities that lie before us, that if we leverage appropriately, could make Wesley’s dream a reality.

1: There is a United Methodist Church in every county of the United States. OK, so I can’t substantiate this for the life of me, but I hear about it pretty much everywhere I go. I do know that we’re the third largest denomination in the US, with nearly eight million members. But let’s put it this way: there are a whole lot of Methodist Church buildings across the country, and if every one of those churches recovered the Gospel and chose to be others-focused… Wow. In other words, we have material resources up to our eyeballs—we just have to use them appropriately.

2: John Wesley is the original architect for service-oriented small groups. Long before Mars Hill’s Community Groups model took the nation by storm, or Adult Bible Fellowships became a Baptist standard, Wesley was organizing people into class meetings for mutual spiritual growth, accountability, and service. As I noted in my last post, the class meeting has been removed from the Book of Discipline, which was a punch straight to the sternum for our movement. But lying dormant in our DNA is a powerful tool for discipleship and service. If we recover this model and take it seriously, we can really make disciples for the transformation of the world.

3: The United Methodist Church is globally poised for global transformation. I’m not aware of any other church that only makes decisions as a global body—which means we had a global social network before Facebook was even a twinkle in the world’s eye. Because we make decisions as a global body, we have opportunity to become an international movement of disciples making disciples.

As C.S. Lewis once said, “There are far, far better things ahead than anything we could leave behind.” I often want to plaster this across my forehead when I talk to the man-on-the-street (or should it be, man-in-the-pew) Methodist: sure, we might have to change what church means to you for us to become a vibrant movement, but is that the worst thing that could ever happen? What lies ahead is far better than what we live with now.

What opportunities do you see the UMC needs to take advantage of? How would you suggest we do it?

On Becoming a United Methodist: Hurdles to Methodist Renewal

Having spent less than a year in Methodist circles, my more ‘conservative’ friends often ask me what stands between the Methodist church and a bright future of thriving ministry.

This, of course, is a loaded question. Like the question, “Have you stopped beating your wife?” it assumes a whole lot. In some corners, the Methodist church is thriving—I happen to be in a church that is, and I happen to know of a few that are doing really well.

Yet, the point remains, and it’s well-taken. When many people think of Methodists, they think of old, dying churches filled with old, dying people—and sadly, that might be true in some places. So where are the hurdles? In reality, they are the same hurdles that have tripped us up for decades—that is to say, the hurdles before us are the same as the hurdles behind us.

My sense of things—and remember, I’ve been hanging around these folks for less than a year—is that the Methodist church is in decline because in many corners, the church became more about us than it did about them. We became social clubs and community centers instead of a living, breathing movement of God’s people making disciples for the transformation of the world. (Which is the UMC mission statement, by the way.)

In the face of a rapidly changing world, we turned inward. Many UMC churches represent that in their architecture: sanctuaries that look like a boat turned upside down, reminiscent of an ark that will shield us from the untamable cultural waters all around us. So we became about us, and did the things that feel like we’re being missional while never actually having to be.

The second hurdle is similar but different: we lost the Gospel. This is a remarkably easy thing to do in any church; we just did it a while ago and are finally realizing that we did it. The major contribution of the Gospel Coalition movement has been the insistence on simply using the word ‘gospel’ a whole lot. Sometimes this drives me crazy—if I read another blog post that ends with ‘believe the Gospel’ I’ll scream.

Yet, they have realized something key: the way we talk shapes reality, and by talking about the Gospel we become people who keep the Gospel central in our lives and our churches. I find that I’m one of the only Methodists who uses the word ‘Gospel’ with any frequency, and Gospel-centered ministry is a major part of the DNA of the new faith community I’ll be leading.

Here’s the freaky thing: Wesley predicted that this would happen. He said,

I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power. And this undoubtedly will be the case unless they hold fast both the doctrine, spirit, and discipline with which they first set out.

Scary, huh?

What Wesley realized is this: when you lose doctrine, you lose your identity—instead of being clear about our beliefs, the UMC has taken a stance of “openness,” trying to brand itself as a “big tent” in which anybody can find a place. But the problem with that is when you aim at everything, you aim at nothing. Clarity and conviction are compelling (ooh, sorry for that preacher moment) and there isn’t anything intriguing about being open to everything.

Further, we left behind the discipline when we decided that class meetings—the small groups at heart of Wesley’s vision for the Methodist movement—were no longer really necessary. Wesley was doing Gospel Communities, Life Groups, or whatever-your-church-calls-them centuries before we decided that was cool—the irony is that we got rid of class meetings right around the time when small groups grew into popularity. When we got rid of class meetings we denied our identity.

Wesley also comments on the spirit of the Methodists. What is the Methodist spirit? As I’ve alluded to before, it’s the drive to seek out the least, the last, and the lost as a loving community of disciples. In this case, the Methodist spirit lives, albeit in an unexpected way.

Remember, Methodism began as a fringe movement in the Church of England, and this fringe movement lives on in the Methodist Church. In my corner of the Methodsit world, that fringe movement is expressed through two weekend experiences: Walk to Emmaus and Kairos Prison Ministry. Hang around these organizations, and you’ll find the Methodist spirit lives on in ministries that seek to make disciples who live in community, serving the world together.

Our ability to become a vital church again rises and falls on our ability to get clear about the Gospel, be others-focused, and return to the doctrines, the spirit, and disciplines Wesley gave to us. It’s a hard road, but in the next—and final—post of this series, I’ll address what opportunities lie before us if we get back on the horse.

So, Wesley’s movement lives, but maybe not in the way you’d think. What obstacles do you see before the UMC—and how do you think we need to navigate them?

On Becoming United Methodist: Ringside with Calvin and Wesley

This is the second part of a four-part series in which I reflect on my journey toward becoming one of Wesley’s people—a pastor in the United Methodist Church. You can read part one, I’m not Crazy, right here.

When my mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I sent her an Amazon wish list with three items on it: Calvin’s Institutes, Fred Sander’s theological biography on John Wesley, John Wesley: The Heart Renewed in Love, and a collection of John Wesley’s writings.

Nerd alert!

While at Wheaton, I learned to love reading books by dead people. Throughout my program, I had at least one historical mentor, and it’s a practice I’ve chosen to continue. For 2014, and most likely beyond that, I’ve chosen to read Wesley and Calvin together, in conversation with each other.

As I’ve sat ringside with these men, watching them duke it out with their opponents, I’ve come to appreciate each more and more—and to have burning questions for each, too.

Here are the three things I’ve learned while reading Wesley and Calvin.

1: I want to be friends with Wesley. I’d avoid Calvin at parties. Here’s the deal: Calvin is kind of a jerk. He likes to insult his opponent’s intelligence and character, and is kind of reminiscent of the cool kids in high school that were just mean to everyone. (His favorite word for those who disagree with him is ‘miscreant,’ which you have to hand it to him, is a pretty cool word.) But Calvin is a jerk, and I think I’d feel awkward if someone said, “Hey, you’re friends with Calvin, right?”

Meanwhile, Wesley is just a cool guy. He’s now been added to my list of people that I’d like to eat a meal with if they could come back from the dead. Wesley is intense, but personable; focused, but understanding; passionate, but charitable. Of course, Wesley did just hate Calvinism, but he also once said, “I think on justification just as I have done any time these seven and twenty years, and just as Mr. Calvin does. In this respect I do not differ from him a hair’s breadth.”

2: Wesley is far more charitable than Calvin. Wesley never wrote a systematic theology—which is why some say, and rightly, there is not a theological backbone in the Methodist tradition. Wesley was a practical man, so the textbook for his movement were his Standard Sermons. Practical theology for a very practical people.

In that, Wesley is a very charitable man. That’s not to say that he’s without fiery retorts for those who differ from him. (OK, so he called Calvinism a heresy once…) But for the most part, Wesley’s fire was for people who distorted the Gospel—mostly preachers who taught a dull morality in churches instead of a robust, Gospel-centered way of living. He was rather charitable toward men and women of other traditions, and you have to remember, wasn’t setting out to start a new denomination as much as he was trying to renew the Church at that time.

3: There is something to be said for organization, clarity, and yes, systematic theology. Calvin’s contribution in the Institutes is an ordered, systematized theological way of thinking for Christians. Wesley’s lack thereof makes some of his thinking hard to understand; even the most intelligent Wesley scholars struggle to see what he means by ‘Christian perfection.’ (See Sander’s book for an excellent chapter on that!) It’s also hard to grasp what he was trying to go for when he teaches on works of righteousness.

Sometimes a book with bullet points and an outline is just easier to think through. I think the lack of a systematic approach, a blueprint, if you will, leaves the Methodist movement prone to theological wishy-washy-ness. (It may also explain why The Book of Discipline, our guiding document as a movement and a church, is so vague!)

So there you have it. If you haven’t, I’d again challenge you to read something by Wesley. A suggestion: try Wesley’s sermon, The Lord Our Righteousness, which is number 20 in the Standard Sermons. Don’t cast a stone without giving him a chance, and this is a sermon that, I think, far outweighs most of the historical sermons I’ve read in the Reformed tradition.

What do you know about John Wesley? Have you ever read anything by him? What has stopped you from reading him?

On Becoming a United Methodist: I’m Not Crazy

This is the first of a four-part series in which I reflect on my journey toward becoming one of Wesley’s people—a pastor in the United Methodist Church.

True confessions: when I tell people I work at a United Methodist Church, I feel a great urge to quickly follow it with, “But I’m not crazy.”

For many who know me, and many who don’t, I am an anomaly. Raised in a conservative Evangelical home, trained at two conservative Evangelical colleges, for many (including me) there is something wrong with this picture.

How did this guy become a Methodist?

People who know me, and people who don’t, often have a lot of questions. As well they should—it’s no secret that the UMC is in decline, and that it is a strikingly different tradition from the one in which I was raised and the one in which I studied. There are, rightfully, many concerns about the denomination’s stance on well, more issues than I’d like to admit (chief of which is the definition of marriage, and in some places, issues of biblical authority).

I often wonder if people think I went off the deep end. You might feel this if you knew me in years past, and now see that I’m pastoring in the UMC. You might feel this if you’re in the UMC and see me through more mainline eyes, and find out where I went to school.

So why become a pastor in the UMC? I could write about this for ages, and of course God’s leading had something to do with it. But if I were being honest, I came to the UMC not because of where I wanted to work, but for whom I wanted to work.

Rick and Brigitta at Our Wedding! My boss is one of my closest friends and most trusted counselors. I interned for Rick throughout my years at Moody, and he performed my wedding ceremony. We’re close, and had always talked about working together—though to be truthful, I never thought it would happen. But it did, and I really enjoy working for him.

Oddly, I’ve also grown to love being a United Methodist. In a culture of Evangelicalism that is inundated by the Reformed thinking of John Calvin and others, it’s hard to imagine anyone choosing a Wesleyan tradition. But I’m choosing a Wesleyan tradition, not necessarily because of his soteriology (read: his theology on how a person is saved) but because of his ecclesiology (read: his theory and practice of what it means to be the church).

I’ll write more on this later—I’m spending this year reading Calvin’s Institutes and a collection of Wesley’s sermons and other writings at the same time, and coming to surprising conclusions. But for now, here are three things you might not know about the United Methodist Church, and why I’m coming to love it.

1: The United Methodist Church is an explicitly global church. Unlike other mainline denominations in the US, the UMC can only make practical or theological decisions when gathered as a global church every four years at the General Conference. This is why the UMC hasn’t ‘officially’ changed their policy on marriage—Conferences in the Global South, especially in Africa and India, refuse to go with the West’s cultural flow.

2: The United Methodist Committee on Relief is an incredibly effective organization. Hang around the UMC long enough and you’ll dissever we can out-acronym any Bible college in the continental US. UMCOR is one of the largest relief organizations in the world (I’ve heard it’s the largest, but I can’t substantiate that fact yet). It serves more than 80 countries—and get this: 100% of money given to UMCOR goes right to those in need. If you know anything about relief organizations, this should stun you as much as it did me.

3: A rich tradition of Gospel-centered ministry expressed in a deep concern for the least, the last, and the lost. Anyone who balks at the Wesleyan tradition, Arminian theology, or just thinks that they are a Reformed smarty-pants hasn’t read Wesley’s A Plain Account of the People Called Methodists. No one, and I mean no one, in the history of the church developed a more robust, relational, Gospel-focused movement of discipleship. From the earliest moments of the Methodist movement (which began as a renewal movement within the Church of England) there was a concern for those in need—spiritually and materially.

I recently began the process to become a candidate for ministry in the UMC, the first step toward ordination. These reasons, and more, have compelled me to become one of Wesley’s people. There is a tradition here that still lives, in some corners, to be about the Gospel and about the business of saving souls.

That’s why I’m becoming a United Methodist—not because I’m crazy. Or, maybe, because I’m just crazy enough.

What has been your opinion of the United Methodist Church? How does this post inform the way you think of the UMC?

Don’t Be Embarrassed Because You’ve Said ‘No’

A little over two years ago, my book, Unfriend Yourself, hit the shelves. In it, I tried to help people—particularly Christians—see what lurks in the unseen depths of social media, and to think critically about how they use social media like Facebook and Twitter to talk about themselves and to communicate with others.

What I wanted to accomplish was to discover a vision for a Christian use of social media that went beyo

nd posting Bible verses, song lyrics, and blog posts. Thinking about it now, my question has become clearer: is there a ‘holy way’ to use social media in our daily lives?

Remember that ‘holy’ has two meanings: first, perfection, and then something like ‘to be set apart.’ Can we create habits of digital living that are holy—different, quirky, even odd? I think so—and I think one of the best ways we can do this is by giving up social media for Lent.

In case you missed it, Lent began yesterday—an annual journey of denying excess in order to make room for God. In Advent, we sing the song that declares, “Let every heart prepare Him room.” Lent makes a similar declaration, inviting us to give up, to let go, and to press in as we crawl out of winter toward spring, out of the darkness and into the Glorious Light of His Resurrection.

Yesterday, and in the days leading up to it, I saw more and more friends letting their digital friends know that they w

ould be giving up Facebook for Lent—often with a note of apology, or even embarrassment. (Jon Acuff, in his usual cheeky style, wrote a hilarious post on this just today.) I suppose my question is this: why are we embarrassed to give up social media?

It’s no secret that people spend untold hours online—it fills our lives to overflowing. You know it and I know it—it’s not even necessary for me to give you a link to a piece of research. That’s why I’m so confused about being embarrassed about giving up our social media for Lent—in Lent, we’re invited to make room for God, and to do so by removing an overriding distraction. Social media, it would seem, fits the bill.

It’s key to remember that Lent is not only a season of disengagement, but of engagement. To cast something off is to pick something up; the real question of Lent, then, is not what you’re giving up, but what you’re taking on.

In that case, the real question is: How will you fill the time away from the digital world with God?

Or, perhaps: How will the absence of social media in your life make your future use of it more holy?

Don’t be embarrassed by the absence of social media, be gladdened by it. Rejoice in the absence of something so needy, in order that you may know the One Who longs to know you and be known by you. In the Bright Sadness of Lent, be free—repent, and believe the Gospel.