Reading Time: 4 minutes

It’s early in the morning and everyone in my house is still sleeping. I woke up hours ago. That’s pretty typical in our family. It seems that I’ve always been the early riser in the bunch. But in light of the realities currently facing our country, I feel like I’m the one waking up later.

The funny thing is that you don’t even know you’re asleep until you wake up and realize that you’ve been asleep. Even crazier is the fact that when some people sleepwalk, you and I would swear that they’re awake. The stories I could tell you about the sleepwalking episodes in my family alone would prove that true. And yet, sleepwalkers are, in fact, sleeping.

I think I’ve been sleepwalking around racism and the racial tensions and injustices in our nation. I’d see the videos and hear the names – Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Breonna Taylor, among others – and if you had asked me if I was outraged, I think I would have said I was. Emphasis on the word “think.”

And then George Floyd happened. Or rather, the same thing happened to George Floyd. I sat in the room where I spend my early mornings with Jesus and pulled up a video that I was already telling myself couldn’t be as bad as what it sounded like. And then I watched. I wept. I listened to his cries for help. For air. For his mother. I heard the cries of people begging the officer to check him for a pulse. To notice that he was no longer moving. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to jump through the screen. I wanted someone to do something. And in that dimly lit room, watching the sun rise as I watched a life fade, I woke up.

Admittedly, I may still be sitting on the side of my bed stretching and rubbing my eyes, but something shifted in me – and I think, in our country – as I watched George Floyd die. Something that was bigger than color, or slogans, or hashtags. This was un-human and it caused many of us to lift our sleepy heads, look into the mirror, and see the horror of who we have become and who we are becoming.

Most of us remember the unity that we all felt in the days following the horrific attacks on September 11, 2001. We heard the stories of brave men and women who entered burning buildings to save others at the cost of their own lives. One story emerged of Todd Beamer’s final words as he and others prepared to take the plane back from the hijackers. They were few – and the last two were simply, “Let’s roll.”

This past weekend, I walked the streets of my town with a hundred or so others and I listened to them chant: “I can’t breathe. No justice – No peace. Black lives matter. All lives matter. Say his name: George Floyd.” What struck me as the chants echoed in the streets was how familiar they were. I’d heard these cries before – albeit with different names – and yet I felt like I was hearing them differently, like when someone talks to you as you wake up from a dream. It seems the words are a part of the dream until you realize they were the very words that woke you up.

[Tweet “We are the human race, and if the human race is to also be a humane race, it’s going to take all of us waking up and standing together.”]

It dawned on me that I had seen 9/11 as something that happened to us, but all the racial injustice as something that had been happening to them. But this isn’t a fight that only one group should fight, because this is a reflection of who we have become as a nation, as a culture, as a race. We are the human race, and if the human race is to also be a humane race, it’s going to take all of us waking up and standing together against the forces that want to divide us (and believe me, there are forces at work in the natural and spiritual that want to keep us at war – but that’s for another post at another time).

[Tweet “If one of us can’t breathe, then none of us can breathe.”]

If one of us can’t breathe, then none of us can breathe. And when we see it like that, staying asleep – even sleepwalking – is no longer an option. It’s time to wake up, get up, and speak up.

The issues of social injustice, systemic racism, and racial inequality are bigger than any one of us, and defeating them will require every one of us. It will require that “their” slogans become “our” cry. As I’ve said to many leaders of color in my own city, I am deeply grieved at how long it has taken me to wake up, but I’m awake now and I hear you. I see you. And if you’ll allow me, I will be with you.

[Tweet “The issues we’re facing are bigger than any one of us and defeating them will require every one of us.”]

It’s time for action, and because this is a defining moment when we – especially the we that is the beautiful mosaic of the Church – must rise together against the demonic forces at work to destroy us, I’d like to close with the powerful, resolute, final words spoken by Todd Beamer:

“You ready. Okay, let’s roll.”

Reading Time: 3 minutes

I realize that I may lose some potential readers by titling this post as a targeted message to an audience as specific as “prophets,” but even if you read that and wondered what it meant, I’d encourage you to keep reading.

After all, we’ve all run into the people I’m going to be talking to, and my guess is it won’t be the last time.

Let’s start with an understanding: I personally believe in all things Holy Spirit: the empowering fire promised in Acts 2, the character-changing fruit produced in Galatians 5, and the ministry gifts left for the church by Jesus in Ephesians 4. So while we can all debate all day long about whether or not prophets exist today, I believe that the gift of prophecy is not only for today, but quite possibly has never been needed more than today.

Of course, as long as there are gifts, there will be people with them who forget that they aren’t the gift, and the sad reality is that it only takes a few of those self-appointed gifts to make the rest of us want to return the original gift!

If you’ve met a prophet who carried him or herself like that, then my guess is that you’re going to read these points and wish that they’d read them before you met them.

To those of you who are often used by God in the area of prophecy (and I have been, as well), may I offer these thoughts humbly and with a heart to help God’s gift through you bring Him the most glory possible.

Being a prophet doesn’t mean you get to be a jerk

I’ve met way too many mad prophets. Somehow they think smiling makes the message less intense, and yet we’re not called to mimic the Old Testament prophets in how we dress or how we speak to people. Even the Old Testament prophets who seemed angry were used by God to point people back to Him. Does God deliver hard truth and brutal messages to people? Absolutely. But we live on this side of the cross, and the redemption that the Old Testament prophets pointed toward in faith we can now point to in fact. To be honest, if we can point sinners to the cross where OUR sins were paid for and stay angry, we may have missed the point. Which brings me to my second observation.

[Tweet “If we can point sinners to the cross where OUR sins were paid for and stay angry, we may have missed the point.”]

Uncovering sin doesn’t make us like God; covering sin does.

When I think of the many mad preachers and prophets that I’ve encountered (and I’ve been those, too), I always think about the woman caught in adultery. I picture that mad mob of religious leaders who were all too happy to drag a naked woman to Jesus (while leaving the naked man in the shadows). They were proud of themselves for revealing her sin and her filth and I’m sure they raised their stones with a sense of accomplishment. All they needed to finish doing “God’s work” was a green light from The One. Only Jesus didn’t give it. He joined them in revealing the woman’s sin and then used the moment to uncover the sin in the accusers. But He didn’t stop there, because God isn’t pleased with just uncovering sin. God’s plan has always been to cover the sinner. That’s why Jesus went to the cross. Which leads us to the third tip.

[Tweet “God isn’t pleased with just uncovering sin because God’s plan has always been to cover the sinner.”]

It will cost us something to carry God’s message

Somewhere along the way in the course of modern church history, prophets turned into talking heads reading divine teleprompters. The goal was more the perfect delivery of the message rather than the purifying effect of the message and the end result of that was a message devoid of the power necessary to move people to the Father they so desperately needed. Jesus showed us the true intent of the Father. He didn’t come as a postal worker to deliver the mail with the good news. John 13:1 shows us a Savior who not only spoke of the Father’s redemptive love but also showed the disciples the full extent of that love. In short, Jesus lived the love of the Father and doing so actually cost Him His life. It will cost us something, too, because it always costs something to carry God’s message.

[Tweet “Jesus lived the love of the Father even when doing so would cost Him His life.”]

When you and I are willing to pay the price, we’ll be ready to speak with the voice of the prophet. The better news? Others will be much more likely to hear it.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

As a pastor, I’ve heard it for as long as I can remember: Easter is the Super Bowl of Sundays. It’s the day that we pull out all the stops, put out the extra chairs, and make sure we’ve got an overflow plan. It’s the day that we welcome new families and greet families that seem new because we haven’t seen them since, well, last Easter. But on a day that is marked by celebration, we don’t even hold that against them. Everyone is welcome and everyone – for the most part – is there.

It’s the one day a year that you can bet those pastors will be posting “those” posts to every social media outlet they can find. You know the ones: “Today at our church we had “X” number of people in attendance and we saw “X” number of people accept Jesus!”

Not that there’s anything wrong with excitement, of course, but as a pastor, I also know that the Sunday AFTER Easter is usually one of the lowest attended weeks and I’ve yet to see any pastor post about their numbers on those days. I wouldn’t expect them to, because that would kill the buzz that the Easter posts were supposed to generate.

I don’t mean to sound cynical. I don’t think that I am. It’s just that I’ve played the hype game, and what I’ve learned is that people need hope more than they need hype. I’ve also learned that hype isn’t bad, but that true hype is grounded in true hope. In fact, hype is Hope You’ve Personally Experienced.

[Tweet “True hype is grounded in true hope. In fact, hype is Hope You’ve Personally Experienced.”]

Have you ever been to an event that was full of hype and yet empty of hope? In other words, it completely failed to deliver what the hype made you expect? It’s the worst feeling, and the Bible even acknowledges it.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

Proverbs 13:12

I can remember being at sporting events for teams that were struggling at the time but had been successful in the past. The hype had the same format but it didn’t have the same effect. It was hollow because it’s just hard to hype a loser. You get your hopes up even though you know you’re going to have your hopes crushed. The truth is that no one does that for very long, and so when churches hype Easter with production, there is no sustaining hope when the production can’t achieve the next level week after week after week. Eventually, hearts that needed more hope than hype leave, and the verse we just read says that they don’t leave well.

[Tweet “True hope is grounded in something more than emotion and yet results in an explosion of emotion.”]

What’s the answer? Hope. Real, live, “grounded in something more than emotion and yet resulting in an explosion of emotion” hope! Nothing delivers that more than the Resurrection story – and there was no hype when the story was written. Just an angel or two knocking out some guards and rolling away the stone. There was an explosion, too, so I guess you could say there were some pretty cool effects. But no one saw it. No one. The greatest moment in history happened without anyone there to see it. The emptying of the tomb happened out in an empty garden without a crowd.

[Tweet “The greatest moment in history happened without anyone there to see it, but what started in front of no one has had an effect on everyone.”]

But what started in front of no one has had an effect on everyone. Think of it like this: the stone that was rolled away was like a stone dropped into the lake of time, and the ripple effects have been felt by everyone everywhere. Because He lives, we can live. Because He overcame, we can overcome. Because He won, we win. Now that’s something that we can hype because it’s grounded in real hope. Hope You’ve Personally Experienced.

It’s the hope that we need, and this year, God is using a virus to strip away everything else so that we can see past the hype that may have left us empty in order to see the hope that will fill us forever.