Heaven Is Local
Hope Unhindered
May 28, 2023 • Rev. Joshua Smith • Acts 28:16–30
Eleven years ago this weekend, Pentecost Sunday fell on May 27. I know this because Allie and I were expecting our second daughter and she decided to come before her due date. This is why I had to surprise my intern at 6 am with the news that he would be leading music in multiple massive services with no advance warning on his first day. He muttered utterances under his breath which I assume were “tongues” in the Spirit of the Holiday. Then I got in my car and headed to the hospital. Our church was on the cutting edge of livestreaming for those days, so we were able to watch the service unfold from our labor and delivery room. Andrew did a stunning job, providing sufficient evidence to support a theory I’m still musing on to this day: as far as my work goes, I am very replaceable. I cannot help but think of the reported final words of the late Dr. Timothy J. Keller, a personal hero of mine and legend in modern pastoral work. As my ministry friends and I watched our Twitter feeds last week for updates, we despaired at the thought that anyone could fill the void this man leaves behind. Maybe he wasn’t the same gift for everyone, but for us, Tim’s winsome, humble, incisive, gospel-centered-and-saturated approach to preaching and cultural engagement will remain unmatched. Yet his parting words of comfort to his family ring out to haunt the eavesdroppers: “There is no downside for me leaving, not in the slightest.” As we wrap up this Heaven Is Local series in the Book of Acts, we find the indomitable Paul in chains at the Ends of the Earth, and probably at the end of his life as well. He certainly writes like he’s running out of time – by no means anxious; just focused. He tells the Philippians, (among them his former jailer and forever child in the gospel), these chains are somehow a source of joy. That for him, to die would be gain. Those final sentiments were no doubt the inspiration for Dr. Keller’s words as well. And what unsettles us about these kinds of statements? Is it that they reveal a level of hope that is often foreign to us? What would it take to be able to say such things at the end of our lives? In the middle of them? I hope you’ll join us in hearing this weekend. - js
Shipwrecked!
May 21, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 27
Seafaring stories have long captured the imagination, and the Bible is no different. People might appear like gods walking on the firmness of Earth, but put them in even the largest ship on the vastness of the ocean and suddenly they seem small. Even the hubris that surrounded the Titanic, the “unsinkable” ship, was found wanting against the uncontrollable forces of wind and wave. So, of course, we find Paul caught up in a seafaring tale that includes a harrowing dance with death and a dramatic shipwreck. From a literary perspective, Acts 27 is gripping—you can feel the hurricane-like wind that rips them from the safety of the lee side of the island and sets them adrift in the wine-darkened sea, heading helplessly into only God knows where. You can see panicked sailors scrambling up the mast to reef the mainsail, lash cables around the beam, and drop sea anchors into the water to keep the ship from running too fast with the waves. You can feel a ship that is doomed. It feels like something I have read in Patrick O’Brian’s classic sea novels about Captain Jack Aubrey. (He was made famous in the movie Master and Commander starring Russell Crowe.) Sailing didn’t change much from the time of Paul’s adventure through the seventeen hundreds. What is the point of all of this great writing? The gospel, finding itself in the most unlikely community—Paul, as a living and breathing representative of his savior, in the midst of the saltiest community yet—sailors. It is as astounding as it is unlikely but, then again, God seems to delight in this sort of thing. Join me Sunday as we sail with Paul on a doomed ship and see the mystery of God’s providence and kindness in the strangest of places. Also, Sunday is a big day! We have lots of people joining, baptisms inside and outside—lashing people to the mast of this local expression of God’s kingdom, made real in Collierville. Blessings, Jim
Speak For Yourself
May 14, 2023 • Rev. Joshua Smith • Acts 25
I’m sure you can imagine that church staffers have a general idea of what kind of crowd to anticipate on any given Sunday. Factors like civic holidays and weather have a way of establishing predictable patterns in large groups of people. But those arrangements have experienced a bit of a shakeup, especially over the past five or so years. Historically Mothers’ Day would see a bump in worship attendance, as diligent children and husbands honor the wishes of their pious matriarchs. This year? I really don’t know if that’s a thing we can count on anymore. And I don’t think COVID is to blame – it only accelerated something that’s been going on for about 30 years now. Yesterday I listened to a podcast entitled “Who Are the De-churched in America and Why Did They Leave?” The sociologists leading the discussion begin with a startling piece of data: thirty to fifty million Americans used to go to church but no longer do. Meaning, we are in the middle of the greatest religious affiliation shift in US history. The largest subgroups of those leaving the church over the past 25 or so years are: 1.) Nominal Evangelicals (attendance was cultural, not devotional) 2.) Dislocated Evangelicals (COVID/politics) 3.) Exvangelicals (harmed by institutions) 4.) BIPOC Evangelicals (successful minorities) 5.) Mainliners (found it didn’t make a difference) 6.) Catholic (similar to Mainline, + clergy scandals). And now, a shift that began in the 90’s in urban centers has finally overwhelmed our own bastion of cultural Christianity, the suburbs. If you know your neighbors, keep up with former classmates or extended family, you know folks who fit into some of the above categories. Maybe you’re even friendly, but the moment anything spiritual or church-related comes up, you have to tiptoe around the awkwardness. As people who grew up in a world where some kind of Christianity was the default worldview, it’s disorienting to suddenly find ourselves becoming a minority. Conversations take on a different tone. Our children ask very different questions than we did. O, brave new world with such creatures in it! How do we prepare to give an answer for the hope that is within us? Do we even experience that hope? As we start to wrap up this Heaven Is Local series, we’re going to see Paul giving his last great defense in the book of Acts. It’s addressed to a man who is the symbolic figurehead of a defunct people of God: someone who should know but doesn’t. The way Paul postures himself is a masterclass in sharing the truth in love to a post-religious person. I hope you’ll join us! - js
Citizenship
May 7, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 25
Citizenship The tension we face as believers in Jesus is that we have dual citizenship. Most of us here are citizens of the United States of America. And yet, as believers in Jesus Christ, we have citizenship in God’s new people. Christians are spoken of as a new people, a new nation. If you don’t see the tension here… well, I am at a loss. Increasingly, we feel this tension in our bones and imagination. The easiest thing to do to try to ease the tension is to either withdraw from the world — and this has been done in every generation since Jesus. Rather than be corrupted by the kingdoms of this world we move geographically away. Or we assimilate into our earthly citizenship and adopt its ethics, ethos, and machinations. And yet… The place Paul finds himself this week is with firm solidarity within his Roman citizenship. Over and over, he appeals to it. The question I keep asking myself, after living in the book of Acts since last August, is why so much time is spent on the five trials of Paul. They look pale in comparison to Pentecost or the trial of Stephen and the heavenly vision or the activities of Paul in his church-planting endeavors. But what if Luke gives us a way of resistance? I wonder if Paul in his prison cell is imagining for a church living in oppression how they will resist. Not outside of their earthly citizenship of Rome but within it. There are hints this might be the case, and Sunday we will talk about it. I can’t wait. Just a reminder, this Sunday is the last Sunday School of the semester before we move into summer rhythms! Blessings, Jim
Defending The Gospel
April 30, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 24
When I am going on trips, as I am today, the first thing I do is to check out the local VRBO’s and Airbnb’s. I am looking for certain amenities and, of course, a killer deal. If it is for more than one day, it has to have good reviews. That is first and foremost to the savvy traveler. Then I search the posted photos for grills, places to linger (both outside and in), and the kitchen. Since this was an overnight trip with other guys from the church for a Presbytery meeting, it was mandatory that everyone have their own bed. (I don’t do double bunking!) Now obviously, when it is just my bride and me, the priorities are somewhat different. Paul, for most of his missionary life, depended on hospitality. He just stayed with folk he met in the towns where he was sharing the gospel. I don’t know about you, but that sounds a little creepy to me. I have been on mission trips where we did this, and I do have stories to tell. However, we are in the part of Paul’s story where, if I were him, even the poorest offer of hospitality would look like a stay at a nice hotel. I have often said, when Paul visited a new town, the first thing he did was not check out the VRBO’s or hotels, but he checked out the jails… because there was a good chance he might wind up there! Now, as a prisoner of Rome, he will go from jail to jail. His jail stint in this one lasted over two years. (Sounds like justice in Memphis, doesn’t it!) Anyway, what is fascinating is that there are two defenses of the gospel recorded by Luke. One is expected—he is being prosecuted by the folk from Jerusalem. The next one, however, is essentially very private, by a man and his wife. One is filled with courtroom drama and legalese, and the other one could have taken place in a living room. What happened, you might ask? Well, we will talk about it on Sunday! Hope to see you here! Blessings, Jim
Between a Rock and a Hard Place
April 23, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 22:30—23:35
It is an old saying and has passed into cliché perhaps, but we use it often to describe the feeling of finding ourselves in a situation in which there appears to be no escape. In The Odyssey, Homer captures this for our imaginations when Odysseus, in order to get home, has to navigate his ship through the narrow Strait of Messina. The problem is that on one side of the strait is Scylla, a monster with six heads mounted on long necks, each mouth filled with razor sharp teeth…and she is always hungry! On the other side of the strait, just a bow shot away, is Charybdis, a deadly whirlpool which will swallow a ship whole. To be caught “between Scylla and Charybdis" is to find yourself in an impossible situation with a bad outcome any way you turn. In our narrative this week, Paul finds himself is such a situation. On the one hand, his own people want to assassinate him; and, on the other hand, he is at the mercy of the oppressors of his people—Rome. Is God in this? Are there words of comfort for Paul? Or perhaps what we really want to know is, are there words of comfort for us, who—because we live in a fallen world and because we ourselves are fallen—often find ourselves in such places. I hope you are interested because, if you read the Bible with any degree of attention, it seems the lot of God’s people is to find themselves in places like this often. This Sunday, we will talk about it and consider what God is up to when we find ourselves between a rock and a hard place. Hope to see you then! Also, remember Sunday School for all ages starts at 9:15! Blessings, Jim
Your Testimony About Me
April 16, 2023 • Rev. Joshua Smith • Acts 21:37—22:29
https://mailchi.mp/stpatrickpres.com/this-sunday-at-st-patrick-hmflofzrlt-10088674?e=b77c6e6023 Your Testimony About Me I spent this past week with a few close fellow pastors studying the theology of wine. Yes, you read that right. My friends and I were awarded a grant that has enabled us to explore the ordinary elements of the Lord’s Supper and how they inform a life of feasting. We’re not only investigating bread and wine in their historical near eastern context, but also the physical cultural implications of these today. Does it “matter” what wine or bread we use? What about the process undertaken to produce them? How locally sourced they are? Is there something uniquely profound about the choice Jesus made to use bread and wine, or could he have used popcorn and beer? One of the things I’ve explored in this study is the tradition and nature of a drink offering. As far back as Genesis 35 we see Jacob pour out a drink offering as his first act after being renamed Israel. Remember, this happened at Bethel, just after his strange dream of a ladder to heaven. But a veil-piercing offering is not a uniquely Judaic idea. Pagans, too, made the connection between a drink poured out and special access to another realm. If Odysseus wanted to visit the afterlife, he needed to find a thin place and pour out libations. So, for the pre-modern mind, the idea of blood in a cup was a preloaded image. Might there be a connection here to the cup of the new covenant, which was God’s wrath poured out and received by Christ, whose own spilled blood then opened the gate of Heaven? Well, I certainly think so. Our passage this week comes toward the dregs of Paul’s own cup. He had once told the Philippians that he himself was a drink offering being poured out for their benefit. By the time he writes his final letter from prison in Rome, Paul tells Timothy he has already poured himself out completely. He has nothing left. Given the level of unrequited heart-pouring he does in this text, I can absolutely see why he would say that. Fortunately, even though his life is a potent imitation of Christ, Paul’s mission (and ours) depends not on his own noble self-sacrifice, but the all-sufficient blood of the new covenant shed once and for all. -js
Living Under The Cross
April 2, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 21:17–36
Palm Sunday! Yes, we have arrived at the last week of Lent and thus the beginning of Holy Week. One of the things that, through the ages, people have tried to do is separate Jesus from the Cross. What I mean by that is, Jesus is acceptable as a great teacher, or a miracle worker, or revolutionary; but Jesus as a savior––as in, the cross has saving virtue––that is too much. Gandhi says as much in his assessment of Jesus: I could accept Jesus as a martyr, and embodiment of sacrifice, and a divine teacher. His death on the cross was a great example to the world, but that there was anything like a mysterious or miraculous virtue in it, my heart could not accept.” (Gandhi, An Autobiography) Paul knew this too, and that is why he said the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing. He goes on to say, Christ crucified is a stumbling block to the Jews and folly to the Gentiles. (From I Corinthians 1) And yet, as we follow Paul in the last fifth of the book of Acts, it is not his belief in Jesus as some great religious guru that gets him beaten, on trial, rejected, imprisoned and almost killed––it is the message of cross. The cross has infinite merit in achieving salvation for sinners––plus nothing. It seems that, just as the gospels are focused mostly on the death of Jesus, the book of Acts concludes with Paul, living under the same shadow of the cross. As our text will testify, the cross is the wisdom of God for those who believe and a stumbling block to those who reject it. That, or something like that, is what we will talk about this Sunday. We also welcome some more folk into our family this week and taste again that, while many rail against the cross, there are many others who are caught up in the dance and laugher of the redeemed. I hope to see you on Sunday. Blessings, Jim
Food For The Journey
March 26, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 21:1–17
https://mailchi.mp/stpatrickpres.com/this-sunday-at-st-patrick-hmflofzrlt-10088606?e=b77c6e6023 Food for the Journey “Man is a hungry being.” Thus, the great Orthodox theologian, Alexander Schmemann begins his book, For the Life of the World. He is trying to destroy both the those who spiritualize the material world and also those who see the material world as all there is. He goes to Genesis for this and looks at Adam, born with hunger—he has to eat to live. But he is also hungry for something more—someone like him to share the bread with. Indeed, we are born into this world screaming, both for food and affection. This week we see Paul hungry, as well. We are not used to that, some might even think that unseemly or demeaning. Paul is the leader; he started the church-planting movement that, centuries later, St. Patrick finds itself a part of. He is controlled, effective, focused, and gets it done. We don’t think of Paul as, well, “needy.” And yet for seventeen verses in our text, we see Paul not ministering to, but being ministered to! He is hungry, ravenous. He knows suffering awaits him in Jerusalem, and what does he do? How is he sustained? What is the food for the journey he needs? In a word, hospitality. Paul is literally a stranger to some of the places he goes, but again and again he is met with a place to stay, food for his hungry belly, and food for his soul—in people who, in a matter of days, go from being strangers to family. This Sunday, we see hospitality in action as we welcome a bunch of people who not long ago were strangers to us; but over time they have become family, and we are making room in our hearts and home for them. We will flesh out what we see in our text through a service of vow-taking and oath-making. It is all rather glorious. Before that, however, we will feast tomorrow on ditch bugs, shrimp, and hot dogs for the uninitiated. If you have not learned the sophisticated art of eating crawfish, we do have lesser fare until you find delight is this most lowly and delicious crustacean. A weekend of feasting, in body and soul—truly food for the journey… Blessings, Jim
Between Beginning and Becoming: A Long Obedience
March 19, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 20
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! It is a shame it comes during our Spring Break Week…cooking corned beef for hundreds would be a blast! Oh well, such are the accidents of history. Speaking of Spring Break, Teri, Addy and I just got back in town a couple of days ago. We are glad to be out of the grind for a few days, as I am sure most of you are as well. Anyway, we are back to Acts this Sunday, where we encounter the strangest thing – a passage about a boy falling asleep in church, along with a moving passage about Paul's charge to church leaders. As you know from last week, Paul is heading to Jerusalem but he goes north instead of south and revisits churches he has started, to encourage and strengthen them. Why? Well, because what happens between beginning in the Christian life and becoming a thriving disciple in Jesus has a lot to do with the kind of places we often find ourselves. So, we will look at it this Sunday. Are we in the kind of place that will help us become more like Jesus? That is the question before the house this Sunday. Hope to see you there. Remember Sunday School is back in full swing as we make our way through this Lenten Season and on toward the Resurrection. Blessings, Jim
The Right Side of History
March 12, 2023 • Rev. Joshua Smith • Acts 19:23–41
Start a Riot Every time we do something “feasty” at St. Patrick, I inevitably hear someone say something like, “This is amazing; we should do this more often.” I love that response so much. This weekend, when it came up around the fire pits of the Men’s Retreat, I told the fellas that I personally do this all the time. They were a bit surprised, but it’s true. For one thing, the guys in my community group get together for “Smoking Club” several times a semester. Now, this is not a church program. It wasn’t my idea, I don’t have anything to do with organizing it, and it happens whether I can make it or not. A couple of our guys just caught the vision for gathering around fires for better food and deeper fellowship, and they started living it out for themselves. They didn’t ask permission; they didn’t wait for me to plan an official church event; they just set the table and extended invitations. Let me ground this in the Text. Not long before the first Temple of Artemis was built at Ephesus, (more on that this weekend), another temple was in its development phase. David had already established his kingdom capital and now dreamed of building a worthy house for the worship of his glorious God. But Yahweh told him, it doesn’t really actually work that way. I’ll make you a house, He said. A thousand years later, Paul was drawing on that legacy when he told the Athenians that the one true God doesn’t dwell in temples made by human hands. Rather, humans are the temples made by God’s Hand. The Lord doesn’t need us to build him a house for the same reason he doesn’t need us to make images of Him: He already has them. Humans are the dwelling place and representatives of God’s presence in the world. That makes those who are in Christ an all-in-one complete package of temple, image, and priesthood. So, it’s our job to take whatever Heaven we’ve had access to and make it as local as we can, to whoever will accept the invitation. What we’re doing in the gathered church around Word, Sacrament, and Prayer is a model and an invitation: for true disciples to go and do likewise as scattered houses of the holy. When we worship and feast as a wider church body, we’re attempting to set a pattern for you in what it means to hallow our parties, swing open the doors, and let gracious love be the order of the everyday. - js
But who are you?
March 5, 2023 • Rev. Joshua Smith • Acts 19:1–20
Jim and I were just gearing up to feed a couple of packed-out lodges full of men this weekend at our Men’s Retreat. Part of the rationale for this gathering is what we sometimes call “subverting suburbia.” If suburban food is efficient, this is going to be decadent. If suburban schedules are hectic, this is going to be slow. If suburban relationships are competitive, these are going to be gracious. Why? Because we believe the gospel tells a better story than the world does about what it means to be a man who can thrive and become a blessing to those around him. Part of what makes that story so good is that it’s told not merely in Word but at Table. We’re going to taste and see something otherworldly. I’ve thought a lot this week about the danger wounded men pose to a community. For example, this Sunday we’re also resuming our Narnia book club with Prince Caspian. Talk about the potential for damage! In that story we see kingdoms at war, and not just two, but as many as six kings interacting with one another: negotiating terms, partnership, and boundary lines. How it doesn’t all end up in nuclear annihilation is a sheer miracle. Somehow, there is something more royal in the way some of these men honor and serve one another as comrades in arms than in the backbiting political intrigue of the eventual losers. It all comes down to what we think actually “works” in this world. Which Kingdom we’re serving – ultimately, which King – determines the economy of trade, that is, what is actually worth anything. Where do we pour our energy and treasure? We’ll see a kind of new citizenship and loyalty this Sunday, as we celebrate baptisms and new members at St. Patrick. We’ll also look at a passage in Acts 19 where folks are struggling with how to proceed when it seems like the things that “should” work, aren’t working. The veil is pulled back slowly, but surely enough that we can know Heaven is Local, even as the world wages war against it. I hope you’ll join us! -joshua
The Cross in the Marketplace
February 26, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 17
Much has been written about how believers relate to the culture around them. Some look at the culture and say, “It is so evil, we will just withdraw.” Others tire of the tension between what God says is true and what the culture says is true, and so they just assimilate into it. Some look at the culture and are so furious they speak about it with either condescension or disgust. Then there are those who look at the culture and see much beauty in it; they are angry at the marred image, but long to see human thriving everywhere and, in compassion, seek to contend for the faith. How we see ourselves relating to the prevailing culture and thought modes around us will affect our posture toward it and will also inform our mission to the world. This week, we move from synagogue to market place, where we see Paul at Mars Hill. One thing about it, Paul marches into the center of cultural influence and plants the cross of Jesus right in the middle of it. How he meets and contends for the truth that he knows in Jesus is both telling and instructive. I woke up on Tuesday morning about 2:00am exhausted. I had lived most of Monday in this text, and I suppose it affected my dreams because I had been church planting in my dreams all night and nothing was working out. But it hit me in a new and fresh way—Acts is the primary source on how believers and the church should engage the culture around us. What a comfort, God has given us everything necessary for life and godliness! I hope to see you Sunday, as we are starting our journey through Lent as a family. I pray it will take us deeper into the cross and the heart of the One who died there. Blessings, Jim
What Story is the Gospel Telling?
February 19, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 16:11–40
My mind was everywhere this morning. Teri and I were checking in this morning over breakfast about times for the Mardi Gras Feast at the church tonight; I was calling out spelling words to Addy while cooking sausage, pancakes and biscuits; and I was mentally going over the various places and tasks I had to do. Two were primary: pondering God’s work in Philippi and what story that new church there must be telling, and the three bottles of passion fruit syrup that I set out to put in my car to be part of a liturgy I would enact later to tell a story of deliciousness! When I stepped outside, it was to a world of glory. Against the backdrop of a bleak and overcast winter day that is trying to push back what all nature is telling me—that spring is on its way—it was snowing! I pondered to myself as Addy opened the door for Piper to jump in—even nature is telling a story, and how glorious that I get to not only have a front row seat to watch it play out, but I get to participate in it. In Paul’s second missionary journey, perhaps his most famous, we see this week in Philippi three different conversions of people from vastly different backgrounds and, that is not all, those three people wind up in the same church. Against the backdrop of this Macedonian city which is part of Roman Colony, I kept thinking, what kind of story was this new society of people telling? What must people who know Lydia, who is a successful businesswoman, think when she suddenly has essentially one of the city’s freak shows and a stoical jailer as regular house guests? I can’t wait to talk about it on Sunday, but before then I must attend to that deliciousness for our feast tonight! Blessings, Jim
The Ministry of the Cross
February 12, 2023 • Rev. James M. Holland • Acts 15:36—16:10
The Ministry of the Cross I was in my study on Wednesday afternoon, pondering a sermon for Sunday and a vision talk that night, as well as what time I needed to be home to prepare the chicken for the grill, when I got a knock on my door. It was one of our ministry partners—one who is more than a partner, she is a beloved friend. We hadn’t had a chance to catch up since we’d wept together after she got the news some members of her church were killed in a plane crash. After a warm embrace, I told her to come in and have a seat. We exchanged pleasantries and talked about ministry and, after listening to her talk of all the challenges and brokenness she faced in her ministry, I said, “It is just bewildering, isn’t it?” She said, “Yes, it really is; and oftentimes, you just don’t even know what to do or if there is even a fix.” My head was already spinning from our text this week and, after looking at the three episodes we will talk about Sunday, I too was just baffled at how difficult ministry really is. Our text starts off with Paul and Barnabas about to make a victory lap to give the good news of the Jerusalem church to these recent converts, both Jew and Gentile; and, lo and behold, a disagreement arises of such magnitude that they both go their separate ways. It doesn’t get any easier, as Paul and Silas take on a disciple of mixed race, and we get a case study in essentials and non-essentials. Then we come to a problem of guidance—what do you do if God keeps saying “no” to the ministry plans you are sure are the right ones? As I said, bewildering! The center piece of a gospel ministry is the cross. It is really all we have—the good news about what Jesus accomplished for us on the cross. It is what the whole Bible is about. But when I say, “The Ministry of the Cross,” I mean it in another way—ministry is the cross! Real ministry is hard, bewildering, baffling, and is so far outside what you can do in your own flesh that your only recourse is to run to Jesus. It is a broken hallelujah. I keep coming back to this phrase. The hallelujah of the gospel is so great that God’s people have always been willing to sacrifice greatly and move into the most broken places. We will talk about it Sunday, and I can’t wait. Come early and bring your family. Whether you are a newcomer, been around a while, or just curious, we have a class for you—a place where we talk about not just the difficulties of a life of faith but the glories as well. Blessings, JimThe Ministry of the Cross I was in my study on Wednesday afternoon, pondering a sermon for Sunday and a vision talk that night, as well as what time I needed to be home to prepare the chicken for the grill, when I got a knock on my door. It was one of our ministry partners—one who is more than a partner, she is a beloved friend. We hadn’t had a chance to catch up since we’d wept together after she got the news some members of her church were killed in a plane crash. After a warm embrace, I told her to come in and have a seat. We exchanged pleasantries and talked about ministry and, after listening to her talk of all the challenges and brokenness she faced in her ministry, I said, “It is just bewildering, isn’t it?” She said, “Yes, it really is; and oftentimes, you just don’t even know what to do or if there is even a fix.” My head was already spinning from our text this week and, after looking at the three episodes we will talk about Sunday, I too was just baffled at how difficult ministry really is. Our text starts off with Paul and Barnabas about to make a victory lap to give the good news of the Jerusalem church to these recent converts, both Jew and Gentile; and, lo and behold, a disagreement arises of such magnitude that they both go their separate ways. It doesn’t get any easier, as Paul and Silas take on a disciple of mixed race, and we get a case study in essentials and non-essentials. Then we come to a problem of guidance—what do you do if God keeps saying “no” to the ministry plans you are sure are the right ones? As I said, bewildering! The center piece of a gospel ministry is the cross. It is really all we have—the good news about what Jesus accomplished for us on the cross. It is what the whole Bible is about. But when I say, “The Ministry of the Cross,” I mean it in another way—ministry is the cross! Real ministry is hard, bewildering, baffling, and is so far outside what you can do in your own flesh that your only recourse is to run to Jesus. It is a broken hallelujah. I keep coming back to this phrase. The hallelujah of the gospel is so great that God’s people have always been willing to sacrifice greatly and move into the most broken places. We will talk about it Sunday, and I can’t wait. Come early and bring your family. Whether you are a newcomer, been around a while, or just curious, we have a class for you—a place where we talk about not just the difficulties of a life of faith but the glories as well. Blessings, Jim