I keep a 36-inch utility shovel in my church office. I use it to dig the graves that hold the cremains of our congregation's saints.
There's a subtext to lots of sermons I hear, and some I preach: Discomfort is avoidable. Here's my formula. It's the promise of all bogus religion.
When it comes to equal pay for women, the church should do better than employers generally, not worse.
We pastors are not likely to encounter Jephthah. But we might encounter someone like the young man who sought me out after a stint in jail.
Some churches have well-developed processes of assessment, support, and goal setting. Others have no review mechanism whatsoever.
What I miss most is not the preaching itself but the preparing, the rhythm, the demand, and the discipline.
My radiation treatment meant I'd lose my voice for six weeks, and our church couldn't afford pulpit supply. So the people decided to be my voice.
Each day in the U.S., nine churches close their doors for good. This isn’t news—but it’s hard to talk about when it’s your church.
Everyone is ready to bow a knee at the mention of Bonhoeffer’s name. Precious few of us have even heard of Ralph Hamburger.