We ended yesterday’s blog with the pastor’s observation that

Stewardship decisions are not made in church; they’re made in the real estate office and on the showroom floor.

Stewardship decisions are also made in the everyday decisions to buy or not buy whatever category of goods that tends to suck you in. For Jason Gay, the brilliant, humorous sports columnist for the Wall Street Journal (WSJ), it’s sports gear. In the kind of article you don’t usually see in the WSJ, Jason explains How I Stopped Buying Silly Sports Stuff I Didn’t Need. He opens:

There was a period of my life, not long ago, when I could waste an easy hour and a half looking at cycling shoes on the Internet. Maybe more than an hour and a half. I would consider cheap cycling shoes and expensive shoes, white ones and black ones, blue ones and hi-visibility pinkalicious ones, custom shoes and shoes I could specifically contour to my foot by baking them briefly in the oven.

At the time I believed that every one of these pairs of shoes would make me better at riding my bike, or at least make me look cooler while riding my bike. Every once in a while, I would pull the trigger and buy a pair of new shoes…which, of course, did the exact same thing as the pair of perfectly fine cycling shoes I already had at home.

This is a condition known as sports gearaholism, and I will come right out and admit I am a slowly recovering sports gearaholic. I have been an addict for cycling paraphernalia, for golf stuff, tennis nonsense, fishing tackle, fitness equipment…

Sports gearaholics buy new sports gear because they think it’s going to make them better. I bought a new driver and three other specialty clubs a couple of years ago to improve my golf game. Guess what? They didn’t. And Jason explains why:

We’re deft online, clicking page after page of golf clubs, golf balls, golf gloves, each whispering a promise to raise performance and golf happiness. All of this is a lie. The only thing standing between us and golf happiness is golf itself, a cruel game created for the purpose of making contented people miserable.

It took me years to realize that I was the technology that mattered, and my tech is flawed. I’m an aging, deskbound non-athlete who, if I really want to elevate my performance, should lay off the peanut butter pretzels. (Emphasis mine. In the comments section after the article, readers pointed out that no one owns just one guitar. They buy new ones to sound like their guitarist hero, but, again, the limiting factor is the player, not the instrument.)

It’s the same advertising lie that Mike Metzger wrote about. Such lies may suck in the rest of the culture, but they shouldn’t suck us in. To apply Jesus’ words to this situation:

Don’t let people do that to you! (Matthew 23.8, MSG)

Paul was clear:

But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. (Ephesians 5.3, ESV, emphasis mine)

Let’s encourage each other in this battle:

You must warn each other every day, while it is still “today,” so that none of you will be deceived by sin and hardened against God. (Hebrews 3.13, NLT)

I was talking with a friend the other day whose mother had passed, and he spent a month cleaning out her house. So I asked the inevitable question: “Does that motivate you to clean out your house?” Answer, “Yes, but I haven’t started yet!” Same with me, we have all this stuff, and we owe it to our kids to get rid of as much as possible before they have to.

Unfortunately, we don’t always live as if we believe Jesus when he says, “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” (Luke 12.15)

Mike Metzger wrote about this phenomenon a few weeks ago in “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.” It’s a short article worth the read in its entirety. The main idea is that we live in an age of discontent. He quotes C.S. Lewis as saying,

[We live as if] the attainment of goods we have never yet had, rather than the conservation of those we have already, is the cardinal business of life.

We miss Paul’s clear teaching to the church at Philippi and to Timothy:

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. (Philippians 4.11, ESV)

But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content. (1 Timothy 6.6 – 8, ESV)

And there’s a cost to the discontent that compels us to buy what we don’t need. Mike explains:

Contentment means to be satisfied or pleased with what we have already. That’s rare today. Advertisers define “a living” as making as much as we can so that we spend as much as we can on new stuff that we feel will make us content. It fosters cravings for what we don’t have, driving us to buy what we feel will be satisfying, but leaving little leftover for giving.

Doubt it? In 2022, Americans gave just 1.7 percent of their disposable income to charity, the lowest share since 1995, according to a new Giving USA report. The reasons vary: economic uncertainty, inflation, and so on. But the underlying driver could well be the discontent that causes people to spend too much. As one pastor used to say, “Stewardship decisions are not made in church; they’re made in the real estate office and on the showroom floor.”

I would add, there are even more places to spend money. Stay tuned.

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6.19 – 21, NKJV)

Here’s an event from the life of Jesus that’s hard to understand unless one remembers that there is almost always a “second audience.” What do you think?

Now Jesus stood up and went away from there to the region of Tyre.

And when He had entered a house, He was wanting no one to know of it; yet He could not escape notice. But after hearing of Him, a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately came and fell at His feet. Now the woman was a Greek, of Syrophoenician descent. And she kept asking Him to cast the demon out of her daughter. And He was saying to her, “Let the children be satisfied first, for it is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered and said to Him, “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table feed on the children’s crumbs.” And He said to her, “Because of this answer go; the demon has gone out of your daughter.” And going back to her home, she found the child lying on the bed, the demon having left.

And again He went out from the region of Tyre, and came through Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, within the region of the Decapolis. (Mark 7.24 – 31, LSB)

Second audience? “Now Jesus stood up and went away…” Stood up from what? A conversation with the disciples (Mark 7.17 – 24). When Jesus goes to “the region of Tyre” to have this conversation with a Gentile woman, the disciples are with him. Point #1.

Point #2: It’s a good 25 miles one way from where he was to Tyre. They walk the 25 miles (8 hours?), have a conversation with the woman and heal her daughter, maybe spend the night – it doesn’t say – and walk 25 miles back. What do you think they talked about on the way back?

It was a hard lesson for good Jewish boys. Peter was still having trouble with it after the resurrection:

And [Peter] said to them [a room full of Gentiles], “You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a Jew to associate with or to visit anyone of another nation, but God has shown me that I should not call any person common or unclean.” (Acts 10.28, ESV)

I have set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. (Genesis 9.13, ESV)

I just learned that some people are choosing to recognize July 20 as National Moon Day in honor of the first moon landing, July 20, 1969. I remember it well, and I was privileged to meet several of the astronauts, including Buzz Aldrin about whom I wrote two blogs. Please check them out:

• Magnificent Desolation
• Humility

Buzz Aldrin preparing to salute the flag after the first moon landing

The moon landing was a magnificent achievement by tens of thousands of people over a remarkably short period of time: it was less than seven years from President John Kennedy’s “We Choose to Go to the Moon” speech until the first manned landing.

We choose to go to the moon. We chose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things not because they are easy, but because they are hard. Because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we’re willing to accept. One we are unwilling to postpone. And therefore, as we set sail, we ask God’s blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure that man has ever gone. – John Kennedy, September 12, 1962

“That goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills.” There’s power in attempting something hard…together, something God recognized way back at the building of the tower of Babel:

And the LORD said, “Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them.” (Genesis 11.6, ESV)

Are there worthy goals to attempt today? Either as a community of nations, the United States, or even the Church? It would require unity…which we’re not good at today at any level.

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. (Ephesians 4.1 – 6, ESV)

I promise this is the last blog (for a while) on the importance of the local church taking seriously its mission to make disciples. Yesterday’s blog pointed out that Hyundai knew what it was trying to do when it invested three years and $1.1 billion to build a factory in Montgomery, Alabama.

My friend Ron Bennett makes the same point satirically in his excellent book Intentional Disciplemaking. I offer this portion of Chapter Two with minimal comment:

Imagine a businessperson coming to a town to establish a new venture. He buys land and builds offices, warehouses, and production facilities. He impresses the townspeople with his industry, and they become curious.

After months of preparation, when the facilities near completion, a long-awaited “help wanted” ad appears in the local newspaper. Word spreads quickly that this business offers excellent pay and benefits, and needs all skills. The already low unemployment rate plunges to zero as anyone who applies gets hired. You even quit your job to hire on.

When the business opens its doors, all the employees eagerly show up for work. At first, they stand in awe of the wealth of resources amassed in this facility. The warehouse is full of the latest machinery and technology as well as plenty of building materials. Eventually, however, a question begins to sweep over the huge crowd of idle workers. It begins as a whisper and gets louder: “What are we supposed to produce?” No one knows. They forgot to ask, and upper management never announced it.

Finally, you volunteer to approach the owner. A polite, well-dressed secretary ushers you into the owner’s downtown office, and you find him sitting calmly at his glossy wood-paneled desk. “How are things going over at the plant?” the owner nonchalantly asks, glancing over the top of his bifocals while leafing through a stack of papers.

Fine,” you reply with your hat in hand. “We are all impressed with what you have built. We can’t believe the high-tech equipment that you set up, and we are eager to get to work. But we do have one question… What are we supposed to produce?”

“Produce?” responds the CEO incredulously. “Produce? Why, what difference does it make? Just get busy and produce something!”

Jesus wasn’t like Ron’s mythical CEO…

Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28.18 – 20, ESV)

I made the point yesterday, quoting Dennis Allen in The Disciple Dilemma that car companies don’t build cars. They build plants and equip team members so that they can build cars. I was living in Montgomery, Alabama, when the Hyundai Plant in Montgomery was built over several years and dedicated in May 2005. I watched the dedication on live television. At the time, I thought:

• The governor of Alabama was very excited about the presence of Hyundai. The economic impact today is $4.8 billion. But Hyundai’s purpose is not to improve the economics of the state of Alabama.
• Hyundai employs over 3,000 workers who make a good living at $67,000 – $100,000/year, but Hyundai’s purpose is not to provide a living for workers.
• The workers at Hyundai love their jobs and make friends among their co-workers, but Hyundai’s purpose is not to provide community.
• Make no mistake: Hyundai’s only purpose is to make cars. I toured the plant, and for someone who sits at a computer and pushes pixels around, it was very exciting to watch the process. A square piece was cut off of a giant roll of steel, a press came down, and bam! we have the hood of a car. And away the process went. During my tour, a car came off the line every two minutes. Today it’s more like every 45 seconds. In December 2006, after I moved to Colorado, I bought a 2007 Hyundai Sonata made in that plant. I’m still proudly driving that car.

Of course, while Hyundai is making money making cars, the economy of the state of Alabama improves and the workers make a good living and enjoy community. Focusing on the primary objective brings the secondary benefits along. Forget the primary objective, and the secondary benefits don’t happen.

Jesus said, “Make disciples.” Churches are ostensibly started to that end, but if we’re not careful, we start focusing on “building community,” and providing ministries to serve members, and disciple-making is either assumed or forgotten.

Sorry to repeat from yesterday (actually, not sorry!):

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up… (Ephesians 4.11, 12, NIV)

Jesus said, “You make disciples (Matthew 28.18 – 20), I’ll build the church (Matthew 16.18).

Yesterday we considered the promising-to-sad progression/regression of some churches attempting to carry out Jesus’ mission of making disciples:

• Man: Jesus
• Movement
• Mission [I think I would have put Movement before Mission.]
• Monument
• Museum
• Mausoleum

And it doesn’t take long, unfortunately. The first-century Church at Sardis (Revelation 3.1 – 6) had already gone full course:

I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. (Revelation 3.1, ESV)

The building is there. The lights are on. There’s probably activity – “you have the reputation of being alive” – but it’s dead. There’s no disciple-making going on. Such a state was John Wesley’s greatest fear:

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. – John Wesley in “Thoughts Upon Methodism,” emphasis mine

The Mission -> Mausoleum progression came from Jay Terrell’s article A Mission Not a Mausoleum. Another point Jay made was that disciple-making is local.

I want to be a part of a church that recognizes that disciples are made at the local level. No General Conference has ever made a disciple of Jesus. I’ve never known a Jurisdictional or Annual Conference that has introduced someone to Christ. The local church is God’s Plan “A” to transform this world and usher in the kingdom of God, and there isn’t a “Plan B.” – Jay Terrell

In the Methodist Church the “General Conference” and “Annual Conference” are the denominational and district-level governing bodies. Terrell is saying that disciples aren’t made there. They’re made “at the local level.” With that I agree.

But how are they made? Here’s a provocative quote from The Disciple Dilemma by Dennis Allen.

General Motors, Tesla, Ford and the other car companies don’t build cars. Not one. Boeing does not build airplanes, and Apple does not manufacture iPads and iPhones. What those companies do (by way of their leaders) is articulate a specific mission, build a reinforcing culture to execute on that mission, and organize so people can make the things the companies want to produce. (page 249, emphasis mine)

GM doesn’t build cars…their people do. The “church” does not make disciples in some magical way. Their people do. And if the people don’t, I would question whether or not disciples are being made. Disciples cannot be made just by conducting Sunday morning services. That would be like trying to teach piano by taking kids to concerts. The pastors can contribute, of course, through public teaching, but they ought also to contribute by example, training people who will train others. Paul wrote to “Pastor Timothy:”

And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others. (2 Timothy 2.2, NIV)

Paul also wrote about the church leaders’ job description:

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up… (Ephesians 4.11, 12, NIV)

I made this point four years ago in General Contractors or Trade Schools?

Jesus said, “You make disciples (Matthew 28.18 – 20), I’ll build the church (Matthew 16.18).

I’m a sucker for alliterative outlines, especially when they make a really good point…

I was in a Presbyterian church in Alabama when the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) broke off from the Presbyterian Church US, minimally involved at the local church level. I was at First Presbyterian Church in Colorado Springs when the senior pastor, Jim Singleton, was one of the major leaders in forming a new Presbyterian denomination, the Evangelical Covenant Order (ECO) of Presbyterians. And I’ve been watching friends of mine spearhead creating the Global Methodist Church (GMC), breaking away from the United Methodist Church (UMC). Breaking away and forming a new denomination is an enormous expenditure of time and energy.

Anyway, I’m still on the mailing list for the precursor organization to the GMC, the Wesleyan Covenant Association, and one of their pastors just shared a sermon that made a big impression on him.

The Rev. Jay Therrell’s article with the provocative title A Mission Not a Mausoleum starts this way:

There are four or five sermons that I’ve heard in my lifetime that I can remember almost every word. God used the preachers that shared them to speak into my life. Those words have shaped and formed who I am in Jesus and what I do for Jesus.

Bob Coy preached one of those sermons. He was the lead pastor of Calvary Chapel in Ft. Lauderdale. At the time, Calvary Chapel was the largest church in Florida. A member of the church I served almost 20 years ago gave me a CD of Coy’s sermon, and it had a profound impact. The sermon was called “The Museum of Sardis” and it was based on Revelation 3.1 – 6, the passage where Jesus warns the church at Sardis that they are almost dead.

Coy shared the idea that Christianity started with a man, Jesus Christ. That man inspired a movement; a movement of men and women that began to form a church. That movement grew into a mission that moved worldwide and today includes over 2 billion people. It is a mission that included a church in the ancient city of Sardis (present-day Turkey). That mission located in Sardis was alive. It was making new disciples. It was transforming the city…until the church got comfortable. It began to care more for its own preferences than the lost outside its walls. Eventually, it turned from a mission into a monument.

Jesus squarely warned this remaining monument of what would happen unless it fanned into flame the few remaining embers:

Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you. (Revelation 3.2, 3, ESV)

The Christians of Sardis weren’t willing to repent and return to the mission of making disciples. Instead, they chose death.

Choosing death, the monument of Sardis turned into a museum pointing to a past mission. Eventually, the museum became a mausoleum. Today, Sardis is in ruins. Not only was the church not successful in transforming the city, but the city is no more.

It’s a good outline:

• Man: Jesus
• Movement
• Mission [I think I would have put Mission before Movement.]
• Monument
• Museum
• Mausoleum

It’s not a pretty progression after #3. Rev. Terrell, of course, applies the outline to the Methodist movement under John Wesley. He would say that the UMC is well into the downward part of the progression:

I’m done with monuments and museums. I want to be a part of a movement and a mission. I haven’t surrendered my life to Jesus personally and vocationally to be part of a dead sect. I want to join the Light and Hope of the World in reaching the least, the last, and the lost and introducing them to the saving way of Christ! – Jay Terrell

I wish Jay and his colleagues well. I hope they succeed in “reaching the least, the last, and the lost” and disciple them. Jay firmly believes “that disciples are made at the local level.” I agree, but maybe not in the same way. More on that tomorrow.

Today, I’d just like to observe that once the church building gets built, you have entered the “Monument” phase whether you want to or not. And it will take very intentional effort to maintain “Movement” and “Mission.” I wrote about this last year in a 4-part series on movement stoppers beginning here.

And to the angel of the church in Sardis write: “The words of him who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. ‘I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead.'” (Revelation 3.1, ESV)

Our son Mark took us to a live one-man play about C.S. Lewis: Further Up, Further In. Highly recommend it if it’s ever in your area. Among the highlights was C.S. Lewis’ description of his coming to faith after long conversations with fellow Oxford professors and authors J.R.R. Tolkien and Hugo Dyson. A couple of months after one such conversation, Lewis visited the zoo with his brother. He wrote:

When we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God; and when we reached the zoo, I did.

Lewis was in his early 30s then, and I couldn’t help but reflect on a long thread I had just read on the neighborhood website NextDoor. A lady in our area posted:

I have noticed since moving to Colorado Springs that everyone I meet ends up asking me about my faith, if I have “found a church” yet, etc… don’t get me wrong, I have no issues discussing matters of faith with others or my own faith journey, but it has honestly been surprising to me because I was raised in a manner and culture where it is very rude to push religion (and politics), especially with people you have literally just met. Is it culturally acceptable here to just meet someone and assume they are looking for religion and need your help finding the “right” one?

This spurred a flurry of comments, most along the lines of this sample:

Well, here in the springs the #2 “industry” is religion (#1 is military) so…while I never experienced that it isn’t surprising. Is it rude I dunno. Like someone else said Bible Belt area is commonplace to ask that. Maybe they are asking so if you don’t have that commitment yet you can join them. Try not to be offended by it, it’s how they show they care, and come up with your own witty response.

I absolutely hate it. No! I don’t go to church and I don’t want to, far too lazy and love to sleep in. Also, keep your political stuff to yourself. I hate talking about politics. I vote for who I vote for, it’s no one’s business and I’m going to like you for you. Not for who you voted or if you do or don’t believe in god.

yes. I feel this. Religion is such a personal thing and I can’t imagine trying to change someone’s very personally-held beliefs, or even their lack of religion. Because that is also a personal thing.

“Religion is such a personal thing and I can’t imagine trying to change someone’s very personally-held beliefs…” But J.R.R. Toilken and Hugo Dyson didn’t mind trying. Of course, they were close friends, while the thread mainly talked about having the conversation with near strangers. And the point is that C.S. Lewis did change…as an adult. He gave up one deeply held belief for another and spent the rest of his life trying to bring others around.

Why? Near the end of the play was this haunting excerpt from The Silver Chair, book 6 of the Chronicles of Narnia series. It’s a conversation between the Lion (the Christ Figure in the series) and a little girl:

“If you’re thirsty, you may drink…If you’re thirsty, you may come and drink…Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.

“I am dying of thirst,” said Jill.

“Then drink,” said the Lion.

“May I — could I — would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill.

The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.

The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.

“Will you promise not to — do anything to me, if I do come?” said Jill.

“I make no promise,” said the Lion.

Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.

“Do you eat girls?” she said.

“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.

“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.

“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.

“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”

“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.”

Jesus was clear:

On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. (John 7.37, ESV)

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. (John 14.6, ESV)