One of the most infuriating parts of the human experience is the reality of constraints.
Despite living in a culture that tells us we can become anything we wish to be, our day to day experience proves the absurdity of the “chase your dreams” project. Even as we seek to impose our will on the world, the very effort required to do so reveals that we are profoundly limited. We have a particular body, a certain skin color, a pre-assigned set of skills and preferences which, while malleable, are also stubbornly and surprisingly innate. We have a particular location, and only one location, at all times. Even our social media personas fail to fulfill our yearnings for omnipresence, a sad fact repeatedly proven with each wave of FOMO we attempt to suppress.
We’re a society that affirms the prevalence and struggles associated with mental illness. Thank goodness.
Yet we’re also a society that says, “Do whatever feels right; listen to your heart”. These two values contradict one another, and their contradiction exposes deeper problems underlying a purely secular take on the world.
The worst advice you can give a depressed, postpartum mom is, “Just listen to your heart; do what feels right”. In her case, that which feels right may be smothering her infant to suppress his unrelenting colic.
When we tell someone to “follow their heart”, we’re generally encouraging them to trust their most basic, visceral sense of what is best. We’re telling them to trust themselves, to look inward for inspiration and guidance.
The problem for clinically depressed, anxious, anorexic, or otherwise mentally ill people is that they can’t trust themselves. When they look inward, they don’t see truth. They see lies.
What a world swimming in mental illness needs is not more admonitions to follow your heart. Rather, we need an objective, external, immovable point of reference to provide an anchor for our wayward hearts. What we need is the presence of God and the hope of Jesus Christ.
This is what I shared in church on Sunday – with a few tweaks for this context.
Why should we mention a ruling like this on a Sunday morning at all? The calling of a pastor is to apply the whole counsel of God to all aspects of life. Clearly, the political realm falls within the purview of “all aspects of life”. Whether it’s through social media or headlines, we’re all being confronted with perspectives on this ruling. Part of my role as a pastor is to help you think through these perspectives and be equipped to think and live in a Christlike manner in the midst of them. Therefore, while speaking about such issues is fraught, we must speak about them.
We all want to see growth. We dream of seeing many students come to know Christ for the first time. Up and to the right is our preferred trajectory.
But the reality on the ground is something different. Up and to the right…then a hard downturn, down, down…a slow trickle back up…then we’re not even sure what’s happening. Is this even worth the effort?
I’ve certainly found myself asking this question. Many of my years in college ministry have been spent with ministries of between twenty-five and fifty students, meanwhile ministries three times our size met simultaneously across campus.
In light of the fact that many college ministries are not particularly large, I want to name one huge benefit of leading a smaller college ministry.
I posted several responses on Facebook over the last week. For my handful of friends who are not on social media, and so I can keep track of these posts for future reference, I’m also publishing those responses here:
Last week I taught on the topic of God’s sovereignty at a college ministry. We covered why God’s sovereignty matters for decision making, but I also wanted to cover the topic of trusting God amid tragedy.
Tragedies consistently cause us to question God. They make us skeptical of his goodness, his power, and his claim to be in control of all things. If God is sovereign, then why would he allow a forest fire to consume a neighborhood?
In response to these questions, scripture provides at least three reasons to trust God.
If you spend a lot of time inviting people to things, then you’d better be prepared for rejection.
As a church planter, I would know. I’m basically a professional at being turned down.
But of course, I’m not alone. Talk with anyone in sales, donor development, marketing, start-ups, or any other line of work that requires a lot of invitations, and they’ll assure you, the only thing certain is that rejection will come, often in large, unrelenting quantities.
Through the hundreds of rejections I’ve received in the last few months, I’ve noticed a pattern. The most common way of being told, “no”, comes in the form of, “I’m sorry, I’m just really busy”.
I want to help us understand the dynamic occurring when someone declines your invitation in this way. Because, I think, we’re confused. We’re missing the truth of what’s being communicated in that interaction. At first, I was, too. But now, being the seasoned vet of rejection I am, I see things more clearly.
You ask a question. A good question. A simple one, even.
And the response?
Someone’s stomach growls. A guy gets up to use the bathroom. A girl fake coughs in an effort to break the awkward silence. You begin to wonder if you have a piece of cilantro in your teeth, considering that no one dares look at your face.
Who thought small groups were a good idea anyway?
Leading a small group is a bizarre, inconsistent, often bewildering experience. Thankfully, over the years, I’ve picked up two approaches that have helped me immensely in prompting productive group discussions. Each tool is incredibly simple. No specialized degrees necessary.