Today I’m sharing a few links from exotic downtown Dallas, where I’m preparing for the SBC Annual Meeting, which will feed into some of the links I share today.
This is good news.
Our mood as we approach this year’s convention is more somber than usual. The past few months have been difficult for the SBC. But even in the midst of the tougher season we are currently weathering, I believe God has great things ahead for this network of churches.
As I think through what this next week will look like, there are many highlights that I’m anticipating, even in advance. This is just a random collection of what I’m looking forward to.
Kevin DeYoung offers a post worth considering (I’m still processing the content so I don’t have a full opinion on it, but I appreciated reading it):
The “Toward” in the title of this post is important. It’s the academic way of saying, “I don’t have this all figured out, but maybe I have something helpful to throw into the mix, so here goes.” With my weasel word firmly in place, here are two suggestions for Christians as we formulate a theology of apology.
When a basketball player attempts to do too much on the court, the person is called a “ball hog” or chided for playing “hero ball.” Being a ball hog looks like not trusting your teammates, taking impossible shots instead of giving the ball to a teammate for a much easier one, and insisting that everything depends on your greatness. Ball hogs think they are great at everything all of the time. Too many leaders play hero ball—insisting that everything must go through them. When a leader is a ball hog, the leader fails to see his/her weaknesses and fails to trust the competence of others. Only foolish leaders think they are omni-competent. Wise leaders recognize their weaknesses. Here are three reasons why it is wise for leaders to be highly self-aware about their own weaknesses.
I’ve reached the point in my life where, for whatever reason, I spend a good portion of my time encouraging and coaching younger men. I relish the opportunity to speak whatever affirmation and direction I am able to give to these young men, however limited. Among the younger men I counsel, several of them are in the ministry—or hope to be at some point. During the course of our conversations, I am often asked about career path. Most pointedly, these men want to know: How do you get to become a Senior Pastor of an established church? What does it take?
The claim is not incomprehensible. It has some apparent, face-value support—and not just in Old Testament law regulations, but in New Testament epistles written by the very apostles of Jesus Christ.
A favorite from the archives:
One of the hardest parables of Jesus’, one of the most frightening for me, is the parable of the unmerciful servant. In it, Jesus tells the tale of a servant who is forgiven an overwhelming debt—something like 200,000 years’ wages— but refuses to forgive a comparable pittance owed to him by another. Instead, he threw the debtor in jail. But when the master heard about it, he said, “You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” Then he “handed him over to the jailers to be tortured until he could pay everything that was owed” (Matthew 18:32–34, CSB).