What preaching shadow does the departure leave?

As an employee, I’ve left multiple churches. Most under good circumstances. Not all.

I’ve been involved with many churches where a staff member has left. 

Amicably. Graciously. Beloved. Disgraced. Disgruntled. Bitter. Sudden.

But, no matter what circumstances surround a departure, the one who leaves usually doesn’t stick around.

They start working for another church. They move away. They go on holiday. They take a break or a “step away.”

Either way, everyone else is left behind.

Other ministers. The congregation. Those who loved the departed. Those who are glad to see the back of them.

And another Sunday is on the way…

So, do those who leave churches consider the preaching legacy they leave behind?

Do they wonder what effect they will have on the Sunday after they are gone?

Do the ones making a hostile firing give thought to how this will shape the following Sunday? 

The Sunday service, and sermon, should always reflect - at least in part - the context it is found it. 

It should be influenced by world events.

It should be relevant to local circumstances.

It should connect with what is going on in the congregation.

I wonder, especially now that many services and sermons are recorded and accessible for anyone, do those who’ve left listen in?

Does the, now, permanence of the words spoken influence what is shared?

When the bible reminds you how much you don’t actually know

I’m currently in the first segment of a multi-year, self devised, bible reading plan.

The gist is pretty simple. I read, chronologically, segments of the bible. I start by reading the passage first slowly, then looking in depth at passages I didn’t understand.

At the moment, I’ve reading Genesis 1-25 until the end of next week.

If you asked me at the start of the year how many passages I’d be stumped by, them I’d probably guess around a half dozen.

This isn’t because I’m an Old Testament scholar.

But, I’ve got a bachelor of theology. I’ve been reading the bible for more than a few decades. I’ve written over ten years of Tiny Bible Bits. I’ve taught hundreds of scripture lessons.

I would think that I’d, at least, be familiar with much of the first few dozen chapters of the bible…

Nope.

Turns out the list of things to look deeper into is actually fairly extensive.

Genesis 4, 5, 6:18, 9:18-27, 10, 11:10-32, 12:10-20, 14, 16, 18:16-33, 19, 20, 21:8-21, 23, 24 & 25.

In a way, I’m a little disappointed. I feel like I should know more.

But, at the same time, it’s refreshing to be reminded that I - in fact - know far less than I often suppose.

It’s a good reminder, especially if I’m still going to have another half century of following Jesus - and thus reading the Bible - ahead of me, that there’s still a lot of things I need to dig into and a lot more to learn.

The question every Christian private school must wrestle with

Leading up to the new school term I’ve had a number of interviews about teaching positions for the upcoming year.

Included in this merry-go-round has been a series of conversations with private or independent Christian schools.

Near the end of each interview I’ve asked the following question…

In light of the cost of your tuition, how does your school reconcile the social justice gospel mandate to include and reach out to the poor, widow, orphan and downtrodden?

I think every wealthy Christian church or school must wrestle with this question.

How to they balance their wealth and/or privilege with a God who especially cares and caters for the least?

How do they reach out to the poor when none, realistically, are within their school or congregation?

How do they give a message of indigenous reconciliation or acceptance, when none in their midst are Aboriginal or Torres Straight Islander?

On most occasions, the schools I’ve had a chat with have been honest and admitted (unsurprisingly) that this is an issue they struggle with.

The challenge, constantly, before churches and wealthy Christian institutions must be the gospel of uncomfortable generosity, compassion and justice.

Why?

Because within these places are some of the people who can, and will, make a dramatic difference in the social justice movement.

They just need their eyes and hearts opened to see and feel the need…

The test of Christian maturity you’ll inevitably face

Do you need to know all the details?

I can think of a number of occasions when the details of a situation have not been shared with everyone.

Everyone in a family doesn’t need to know about what is happening within a marriage.

The children shouldn’t know every detail of their parents lives.

The congregation shouldn’t know every detail that plays out behind-the-scenes.

People don’t need to hear about the mental health issues of their staff members.

Some issues should remain private.

A good indicator of your Christian maturity will be not knowing. And, inevitably, you’ll be in a situation when you don’t know…

Because you don’t need to know all the details.

Sometimes, not knowing is because it’s none of your business.

You need to be ok with that.

Sometimes, not knowing is because the leadership of the church has handled it internally - with appropriate checks-amd-balances. 

You need to trust them.

Sometimes, not knowing is because letting certain information out - whilst involving nothing illegal - will harm others physically or emotionally.

A mature Christian… a mature adult… will understand this.

A child will struggle with it…