Dr. Doolittle featured this rather improbable animal, aptly named the Push Me Pull You:


Hard to make a lot of progress in that kind of body, isn't it?

There are seasons of ministry life where I feel like that.

Specifically: many times the church needs me to lead and I feel the pull to pastor.  We've got decisions to make, ministries to launch, and calendars to fill.  A lot of those things can't happen without my input, if not my direct involvement.

But then there are people in grief, people in the hospital, people who simply need a reminder that they matter. Those types of functions are at the heart of what they taught us in seminary about representative ministry: when we clergy visit people in the vulnerable places of their lives, we in a sense Re-Present Jesus in their lives.

Push Me.  Pull You.

I think I'll stop writing and start trying to figure out today's answer to the dilemma.

I've been able to do a lot in my life.

I've been to Australia.  I've lived in Texas, New Jersey, Kentucky, and North Carolina.  I won some tennis matches that mattered.  I've been able to pastor among some terrific people.  This summer, I even published an e-book that resulted in a $37 royalty check this month.

However, there are a number of things that many people who share my age, health, and interests have done that I simply have never taken part in.  And probably never will. 

Here they are:  the top five things I've never done.

5.  Sky Diving.  Why not?  Because the helmet would mess up my hair, of course.






4.  Been To France.  The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Champ D'Elysee have managed this long without me.  I do like French Fries, though.





3.  Water Skiing.  The risk/reward ratio isn't in my favor for this one.





2.  Smoked A Cigarette.  Not even one!  My teenage rebellion wasn't quite so . . . rebellious. And for this "never done once," just think of all the money I've saved.





1.  Shot A Gun.  I know, right?  How in the world could a native Texan never shoot a gun (and I've only ridden a horse three times)?  My dad worked for the FBI during World War II and evidently was a good marksman, but he taught me more about forehands and backhands than gunpowder and safety locks.

Yesterday's Charlotte Observer contained this article on the Hope House, the home the people of Good Shepherd bought, renovated, and then gifted to On Eagles' Wings Ministry for use in the rescue and restoration of under-age girls victimized by the domestic sex trafficking industry (no digital version yet available):



Talk about loving it when a plan comes together . . .

So it's Week 2 of a series that's off to a really good start around here:  Not A Fan.

Already, more of the people of this church are opening up Scripture, signing up to serve, and preparing to lift up their hearts to the Lord in praise on Sunday.

Which we'll need to do. Because it's a message from the Gospel of Matthew and about the author of that Gospel, and what God did with the mess he'd made of his life.

I can't wait.

Sunday.

8:30.  10.  11:30.

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If you didn't see the "I am not a fan" video testimony that concluded last week's sermon, here it is:

In introducing the Not A Fan series, we wanted to give the people of the church some concrete next steps.  After all, what's the point of getting people motivated on a Sunday with no tangible way to respond on Monday?

And in particular, I wanted to offer a great next step to supplement the message from this past Sunday, which had this line as its refrain:  Jesus doesn't want you to admire him.  He wants you to pursue him.

So how could we give Good Shepherdites a tangible way to pursue the Lord?

Voila!  The Reveal class -- billed as a "reintroduction to the library we call the bible."

And last night, the plan came to fruition as upwards of 70 people gathered at our Corner Campus to experience the passionate biblical wisdom of James-Michael Smith.


About ten minutes into the class, I received a text message from someone who was in the room.  Here's what it said:

James-Michael said, "If you've been at Good Shepherd for at least one sermon, you've heard Talbot say that the bible is not a book, it's a . . . . . " and everybody said in unison said "LIBRARY!" 

At least they're listening.  To sermons and to plans.