How to Bake a Good Sermon

Preachers need a bulls eye. What target are we trying to hit with the sermon? I offer a response to this question in an article I wrote recently for Christianity Today's Preaching Today. Here it is:  http://www.preachingtoday.com/skills/2015/june/how-to-bake-good-sermon.html

A Pastoral Confession and Apology to the Congregations I’ve Served

I have served small, mid-sized and large churches as a youth, assistant, solo and lead pastor. For the most part, I’ve loved those congregations with all of my heart and soul. They were, to be honest, easy to love. But, I have made numerous mistakes in each ministry role and context. I didn’t realize that most of those mistakes were actually mistakes until many years later, when I had the space for reflection. Here, now, is my untimely confession and apology.

To all the congregations I’ve served:

I’m sorry for using the task of preaching as a tool for revenge. I’m sorry for those times when I saw myself only as a prophet representing a holy God to sinful humanity instead also as a priest representing sinful humanity to a holy God. I’m sorry for those times when I succumbed to preaching what I did not believe or practice. I’m sorry for preaching life-application in place of Kingdom values. I’m sorry for those times when I gave you good advice without giving you God. I’m sorry for my inability to string together words to capture the beauty, mystery and majesty of “Christ in us, the hope of glory.” I’m sorry for those times when I preached to entertain more than I did to transform.  

I’m sorry for underestimating the power of my presence to make real the presence of Christ in your crisis. I’m sorry for those times when I wasn’t fully present with you in your pain, when I looked like I was listening empathetically but was really searching desperately for an escape so I could get to my next task. I’m sorry for offering small talk even when I sensed that meaningful, challenging conversation was what you needed most. I’m sorry for giving you therapy instead of theology.

I’m sorry for leading meetings that deteriorated into small-minded minutia instead of allowing space to dream God-sized dreams together. I’m sorry for allowing charts and graphs to blind me to the presence and power of God in our midst. I’m sorry for those times when I pushed you too hard to become what God never called you to be. I’m sorry for those times when I didn’t push you hard enough to become what God created you to be. I’m sorry for those times when I did not pursue the vision God gave us with passionate purpose. I’m sorry for those times when I was more consumed with what you thought of me than how I could join with God to love you.  I’m sorry for allowing my quest for an ego stroke to trump my desire to glorify God.

I’m sorry for those times when I critiqued you instead of praying for you. I’m sorry for fantasizing about pastoring other churches when I was married in ministry to you. I’m sorry for complaining about you to my pastoral friends when there was so much about you to commend. I’m sorry for any cynicism that diminished my hope in what God could make of you. I’m sorry for those times when I used you as a pawn in my ploy for power and popularity.

For these and all of my pastoral sins, I am sincerely sorry.

Survival Tips for the Guest Speaker

If you’re a pastor, chances are someone at some point will invite you to be a guest speaker at their church or special event.  Guest speaking occasions can provide some of the most significant opportunities for ministry impact. The guest speaking adventure is also laden with some dangerous dynamics. These guest speaker survival tips can help you navigate the challenges.

Explore the Context: There have been a few times when I was invited to preach in a context that I knew absolutely nothing about. Maybe that has happened to you. The person who invited you was in her 20s, so you planned a message for 20 somethings. When you arrived to speak at the event, you discovered that the large majority of people in the preaching context are in their 60s and 70s. None of your pop culture illustrations and quotes are going to connect with this crowd. You might as well chuck the Lady Gaga quote and Avengers movie illustration. If we take the time to explore the context, total disconnects like this one wouldn’t happen.

Nowadays, when I am invited to speak in a new context, I ask the person inviting me to complete a Ministry Request Form. On the form I request the following information: Describe the culture of the group with five adjectives. What is the demographic make-up of the group in terms of ethnicity, generation, socio-economics, education, and spiritual maturity? What is the purpose of the event? How many people will attend the event? What is the appropriate attire for the event? The response to these inquiries provides a sketch of the group and shapes the content and delivery of my message.

When I receive the completed Ministry Request Form I pass it on to members of my prayer team. They not only pray for my speaking events, but help me to discern which invitations to accept.  

Respect the Context: If someone invites you to speak at their event, then they want you to be you. You should show up at the event as your authentic self. After all, they want you to speak. But, without losing the essence of who you are as a person and a preacher, you should respect the context enough to adapt to it. I’ve seen too many speakers shoot themselves in the foot by disrespecting the context. They dress incongruently with the group. They use language that offends the group. Their message goes 20 minutes past the group’s listening capacity. It’s one thing to explore the context, it’s another to respectfully adjust to it. The needs of the listener must trump our personal preferences. We call this empathy and it is effective when genuine.   

When the speaker disrespects the group she has been invited to address, the listeners can’t help but ear-muff the message. They’ll stop listening to what you have to say when they feel disregarded. If the group is going to be impacted by what God gave you to share, they will need to sense that you “get” and respect who they are.

Thank Your Host:  I’m often so eager to jump into my message that I forget to thank my host for cutting me loose in his people. About 5 minutes into my message I realize, as I make eye contact with the host, that I forgot to express thanks for the invitation and hospitality he extended to me. At this point, it’s too late. It wouldn’t be wise for me to say, “I interrupt this message with the following public service announcement- I want to thank your so and so for inviting me here today.”

Remember that while it’s important to thank the host, don’t overdo it, especially if you’re on a tight time budget. Make your comments brief and to the point. But please try to offer something a bit more creative and personal than the typical “thanks so much for having me.” Come on. You can do better than that.

Exalt Jesus: Although we must respect the context, we are called to proclaim Christ not entertain people. Our speaking should exalt Christ in a winsome manner. But, at the end of the sermon’s day, listeners should come away more impressed with Christ than with the speaker. If the host asks you not to mention the name of Jesus in your message, say at an inter-faith event, and you just can’t comply, be up front with your host. But, if your host doesn’t make such a request, proclaim Christ with love, respect and absolute gusto!

I was invited to the Pennsylvania State House of Representatives Session at the Capitol Building in Harrisburg to offer an opening prayer. I’m a Christian minister, so the content of my prayer was Christ-focused. No one asked me not to pray in the name of Jesus and I didn’t ask permission. I assumed that’s what they expected since I’m a Christian minister. I didn’t use my prayer to beat up on other religions. I didn’t pray, “and, God, we know that all Muslims and Hindus are going to hell” or anything like that. That would betray my rule about respecting the context. But, make no mistake, Jesus was the central point of my prayer. I thanked the Father for sending Christ the Son to be the ultimate public servant. One of the people who worked at the State Capitol Building said to me, “it was so good to hear a prayer from a Christian minister that mentioned Jesus.” I know, novel, right?  

Discussion

Now it’s your turn to share some wisdom with our readers. What tips for the guest speaker would you add to my list? Which of my tips do you want to challenge or confirm?

Miraculous Healing with Redemptive Scars

Setting:

I grew up in an Italian family in Philadelphia, PA. We were nominally Catholic. Some would call us “Chreasters” because we went to church only on Christmas and Easter. My family was a hard working, blue collar family in a city full of vice. We didn’t have much, but my sister, mom, dad and I had each other.

Strife:

When I was 12 everything changed. My older sister, Tammy, found a needle in the bathroom. We brought it to my dad and mom. And then the bomb dropped. My dad confessed that the needle belonged to him. He used it to shoot up drugs. He confessed that he had battled a heroin addiction since he was 17. The rug of my security was pulled out from under me. My dad was no longer my hero; he was a junkie.

But I still had my mom. My mom was the glue. But, a year after I found out about my dad’s addiction, she came unglued. She had what she called a nervous breakdown and began using drugs with my dad. She preferred to shoot up Cocaine. I was probably more crushed by my mom’s addiction than my dad’s. It’s a real shocker when the same hands that bake you cupcakes, fold your clothes, and rub your head, put a needle in her arm to get high.  

Well, you know what happens when two people start using hardcore street drugs. Every discretionary dollar we had went to the drug dealer. Now that my mom was no longer holding my dad somewhat accountable, since she was using with him, he went hog wild with his addiction. We were about to hit the rock bottom we thought we already hit.

My parents lost their jobs. We went on welfare. I remember my mom still trying to be a mom, so she packed my lunch for school. She made me a welfare cheese sandwich. You could tell it’s welfare cheese because it comes in a block and you have to carve off pieces. I remember going to school hoping none of my friends recognized my sandwich as a welfare cheese sandwich. Well, they did. “Lenny’s eating welfare cheese…Lenny’s eating welfare cheese.” I was humiliated. Shame would become my middle name through my high school years.

In order to feed their addiction my once loving, unselfish parents who would do anything for me and my sister began to steal from us. I worked as a bus boy at a restaurant. I would get some tip money every night. A few times my parents found it and stole it to support their habit. I got better at hiding my cash. One time I put about $60, a good night’s pay, up in one of my neck ties. I thought, “they’ll never find it here.” They found it and took it. They hocked my guitar and Atari video game system. Drugs transformed my parents so that they were almost unrecognizable to me.

Within a year after my parents lost their jobs, we lost the car and the house, not to mention our dignity and hope. When we lost the house, we lost each other. My mom went to live with her parents, my dad with his mother, my sister with an aunt and uncle on my mom’s side, and me with an aunt and uncle on my dad’s side. All four of us were living in separate homes as I was going into high school.

I would still see my parents in the hood from time to time, pretty strung out. On one occasion my mom, in front of some of my buddies, chased me down the street begging me to give her money so she could get high. What happened to my mom? Who stole my mom? Where did my loving mom go?  

When I lost my parents, and our house, and our dignity and each other, I also lost myself. This one took a little longer. In order to escape my shame and pain, I self-medicated. I started getting drunk with friends when I was 13. By the time I was 17, I was getting drunk 3-4 nights a week. I dropped out of high school in my junior year since it was getting in the way of my lifestyle. While my friends were thinking about college or career, I was concluding that my life would never amount to much at all. I was a high school drop-out alcoholic son of two drug-addicted parents. That was my lot in life.

I wouldn’t say I was suicidal, but I had a bit of a death-wish. I did some crazy things when emboldened by beer. And my death-wish was almost granted. I was drunk and initiated a fight with someone for no other reason but the color of his skin. I threw a punch that landed. He started to run down the middle of the street. I chased him while my friends laughed. The guy stopped in the middle of the street and put his hands up. I put my hands up and threw a punch. I never saw the knife. He stabbed me. The blade plunged 4 inches into my body and punctured my lung. Blood was everywhere. I couldn’t breathe. My friends came to my rescue and got me to the hospital quickly.

Salvation:

My rock bottom arrived while my parents were coming off the bottom. I was falling apart in Philly when my parents were both in Syracuse, NY recovering in rehab. My dad was recovering at a Christian rehab called Teen Challenge. He was doing well, even taking on some leadership at the rehab. My mom was caught shoplifting. They gave her the option of jail or rehab. She chose rehab and ended up going into a Christian rehab for women in Syracuse. My strung out parents were sobering up in the savior’s love.

My parents were accessing the grace of God in the context of Christian community. They were being healed. They were being liberated from addiction. I never thought I would see the day when my parents were clean. Even my unconverted cynical eyes could see that this was a miracle. Shortly after I was stabbed, my parents talked me into rehab at the Syracuse Teen Challenge. I had some gambling debts hanging over my head and no money to pay. To escape the debt, I said yes and went into rehab.

It didn’t take long for me to fall in love with Jesus. I had lost myself in a sea of shame and sin between the ages of 13-18. Now, God began to restore his image in me. “He broke the bars of my yoke and caused me to walk with my head held high” in the dignity of discipleship. All of a sudden I was able to envision a life that was worth living.

If you would have seen us when I was about 16, you would have thought “this family doesn’t have a chance.” I know you would have thought that because everyone around us, including us, felt that way. Three years later, when I was 19, we were living life to the full together in a box of an apartment. We were like the demon possessed madman in Mark 5. He was running around in the nude, cutting himself and yelling out vulgarity. Then he meets Jesus. All of a sudden, he is clothed and sitting in his right mind. Jesus had exorcised our demons, a legion, and we were sitting together in our right mind, clothed in his love.

We were passive participants in a miracle of grace God was bent on doing.      

Scars:

The miracle we experienced had a lasting positive impact on our relationships with each other and with God. My mom has, sadly, passed on but my dad is one of my best friends.   

If this were a fairy tale, there would be no scars. But in real life there are scars. Jesus has healed my deepest wounds but the scars still remain, at least this side of heaven. Here are some of the scars that keep me perpetually and humbly dependent on God’s grace:

My mom died at age 54, nine years ago. You know how Italian sons are with their moms. I was so emotionally crushed by my mom’s addiction, that I shut down my emotions toward her. It was hard for me to get those back. I forgave her for the pain she caused me during my teenage years, but I’m not sure I communicated grace as fully as I could have done. I wish she was here so I could love her in a manner that did more to lift her shame. I live with that scar of regret.

There are some demons from my past that still haunt me from time to time. I bear the scars of inferiority and insecurity. Through most of my formative years, I was labelled by myself and others as a “loser, high risk, destined for failure, alcoholic high school drop-out, son of junkies.” So, on my worst days, the demon whispers in my ear when I stand up to preach or teach “you’re  a loser, a nobody, what could someone like you offer to people like this, you’ve got nothing.” I’m usually able to tweek him off my shoulder. But not always. Sometimes I will walk into a room full of capable people and catch myself thinking, “I am the person in the room with the least to offer.” I have doctoral degree, have been fruitful in ministry, have written a couple of books, and receive invitations to preach and teach all over the world. Yet, I still bear the scars of insecurity and inferiority. I few years ago I wrote in my prayer journal, “Lord, I still feel like there’s a 13 year old boy trapped inside of me who needs to get healed and get out.”      

Another scar is my trust issue. When the people you trust most, your mom and dad, disappoint you in big ways, it obviously impacts your overall trust capacity. When my parents came undone and unreliable, I made a subconscious choice to never put myself in a position to trust or need another person again. People are not trustworthy. So don’t trust them. I have forced myself over the years to trust people, even though I risk being disappointed or let down. I do this because I see a direct connection between the level of my capacity to trust others and the level of my capacity to trust God. In other words, learning to trust others helps me to trust God more.

Conclusion:

Well, that’s my story. I have been miraculously healed by Jesus, but scars remain. The scars that remain, though, are also redemptive. They keep me leaning on the everlasting arms of a God who is able “break the bars of my sin and shame, and cause me to walk with my head held high.”  

Augustine on Sermon Plagiarism

In every preaching class I teach, the crucial question always comes up. What do you think about sermon plagiarism? A junior high boy still lives inside of this man, so I offer a one word response. “Bad.” I teach at the graduate level, so my students won’t accept easy answers to complex questions. They want to know why I think plagiarism is “bad.” I’m not going to spell out my rationale here, since my thoughts on the issue are not really the issue. If you want to check out (or pick apart) my convictions, check out this article I wrote a while back:  http://lennyluchetti.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-thoughts-on-preaching-another.html

I am writing this article as a student not a professor. I want to probe one of my preaching professors on the topic of sermon plagiarism. The only problem is that my professor has been dead for more than 1500 years. He did, however, address my concern in his writing.

My professor is St. Augustine. I was recently reading, for about the tenth time, his book IV from On Christine Doctrine. This 4^th century theologian treats sermon plagiarism in a unique and hard-hitting way. What does Augustine think? He writes:

“For those who steal take what does not belong to them, but the word of God belongs to all who obey it; and it is the man who speaks well, but lives badly, who really takes the words that belong to another. For the good things he says seem to be the result of his own thought, and yet they have nothing in common with his manner of life. And so God has said that they steal His words who would appear good by speaking God's words, but are in fact bad, as they follow their own ways. And if you look closely into the matter, it is not really themselves who say the good things they say. For how can they say in words what they deny in deeds? It is not for nothing that the apostle says of such men: ‘They profess that they know God, but in works they deny Him.’" (chapter 29, paragraph 63).

Did you catch how Augustine defines plagiarism? He does not condemn the preaching of someone else’s sermon, as I often do in class. According to Augustine, if we preach someone else’s sermon but we’ve submitted our lives to the reality we preach, we avoid plagiaristic theft. This does not give us license to preach someone else’s sermon without giving that person credit. A few sentences before the section cited above Augustine writes, “Now, if such men take what has been written with wisdom and eloquence by others, and commit it to memory, and deliver it to the people, they cannot be blamed, supposing them to do it without deception.” “Without deception” is Augustine’s way of saying “give credit to whom credit is due,” to the one whose thoughts drive the sermon you preach.

What is plagiarism, then, according to Augustine? Sermon plagiarism happens not simply when a preacher preaches another person’s sermon. Sermon plagiarism can happen even if we preach our own original words. But if our lives do not align with the reality we preach, we plagiarize. In other words, plagiarism is a form of hypocrisy in which the preacher proclaims what she does not live. So, if I preach on the importance of submission to God but don’t practice it, I am a plagiarist. If I preach on giving generously to the poor but remain as stingy as the young Ebenezer Scrooge, I am a plagiarist. If I call people to racial reconciliation based on Gospel convictions not political conventions but embody exclusion, I am a plagiarist.

Augustine’s take on plagiarism is refreshing, because it’s unusual and more thoughtful than most. After the refreshing wind of his words hits my face I am struck by the loving slap of his challenge. Augustine is not asking us to be perfect. He is calling us, as far as I can tell, to be preachers who strive by grace to practice what we preach. If we don’t we are the worst kind of plagiarist.  

Sermon Conclusions: Putting a Cherry on Top

I recently enjoyed the four-course Festa Italiana at the Olive Garden with my wife and some friends. The meal included an appetizer, unlimited soup and breadsticks, an entrée (Smoked Mozzarella Chicken for me), and a dessert. All of this was only $14.99! A steal of a deal if you ask me. I tried to convince Amy, my wife, to get the same deal but she resisted. Oh well, her loss.

The Crispy Risotto Bites started the meal off with a bang. After an appetizer like that, my expectations for the entrée were high. I was not disappointed. The dining experience, up to this point, was delightful. Although my belly button was now flopping over the waste line of my jeans, I couldn’t wait to conclude with a delectable dessert. There’s always room for dessert, even when there’s not. The Festa Italiana included dessert and I didn’t want to be a bad steward of God’s money. I ordered the chocolate mousse which, in my estimation, is the ideal way to conclude an excellent dining experience.

Then it happened. The waiter brought to the table our desserts of choice. I thought it was a joke. My chocolate mousse came in this tiny, I don’t know, glass thing. That’s the best I can come up with since the “tiny glass thing” was too small to be called a bowl, dish, or cup. I finished the chocolate letdown in two bites. My wife, who resisted the Festa Italiana four-course “deal,” sat there gloating with her super-sized piece of Amaretto Tiramisu. My tip for the waiter was going to be “make the dessert better and bigger,” but I resisted and gave him money instead.

The joy of the first three courses was diminished by the disappointment of the final course, the dessert. I left the restaurant fairly full but with a taste of disappointment in my mouth. The conclusion soured me a bit toward the entire experience.

Preachers are sometimes guilty of doing to listeners what Olive Garden did to me. We leave a bad taste in the mouths of listeners during the conclusion of the sermonic meal. The introduction might be appetizing and the body a theologically substantive and contextually relevant entrée. But if we fail to finish of the meal with a delicious dessert, the entire meal will be diminished.

Let’s learn from Olive Garden’s mistake. Here are some things to keep in mind as you seek to finish the sermonic meal with a cherry on top:

-Avoid Summarizing: The goal of preaching is not merely to provide people with memorable information but transformational inspiration. If we preachers have done our job during the sermon, people will know more information about the Bible, to be sure. But when it comes to the dessert, the sermon’s conclusion, end with the sweetness of inspiration not merely the spinach of information. The American Church, as far as I can tell, seems well-informed but uninspired to apply what they already know. Try to overcome the advice given to the past few generations of preachers to, in the conclusion, “tell em what you told em.” No, tell em something that will inspire them to embody the Gospel. Summaries never inspire.    

-Don’t Manipulate: Most of us have experienced the painfully extended altar call, the one that forces people out of their seats in hopes that the preacher will shut up and conclude the sermon. The long drawn out altar call is one form of manipulation that occurs during the conclusion. Here’ another. I call it the bait and switch. The preacher will say, “With heads bowed and eyes closed, just between you and God, raise your hand if this sermon applies to you.” The listener raises her hand thinking she made a private acknowledgement. The preacher led her to believe that. Here comes the switch. The preacher says, “Now, if you raised your hand, please come forward to the altar.” Listeners want to be challenged, not manipulated. Sometimes the line between the two is rather thin. If the preacher crosses it, the meal will be spoiled.

-Land the Plane: The conclusion will determine, to an extent, how the listener perceives the entire sermon. Think through the finish. Make it concise and compelling. Don’t wing it or you’ll end up hovering over the landing strip. I remember a bad experience flying into Chicago. I’m not sure why, but for some reason the plane hovered over the landing strip for about 20 minutes. Perhaps there were some issues on the ground. I was frustrated, angry even. When the preacher hovers, refusing to land the plane, listeners become frustrating and angry. The listener will be finished with the sermon, even as the preacher keeps flying. This puts a bad taste in the mouths of listeners. Unless your conclusion is crucial to driving home your focus and extremely engaging, land the plane quickly when the strip is in sight.  

I will keep going to Olive Garden and hungry listeners will keep showing up on Sunday mornings to feast on a word from the Lord. When they do, we must carefully and creatively develop a powerful conclusion. A disappointing dessert can diminish a good meal. But a delicious dessert can improve a mediocre sermon.        

A Hollywood Movie that can Inform the Church's Response to Homosexuals

I recently viewed the 1993 film, Philadelphia, starring Tom Hanks and Denzel Washington. This is only the second time I have seen the movie. Tom Hanks plays Andrew Beckett, an up and coming lawyer who for years has managed to keep his homosexuality a secret from the partners in his law firm. One of the partners in the firm sees a lesion on Beckett and assumes, rightly, it’s caused by AIDS. The law firm fires Beckett, they say because of his incompetence but it’s really due to his homosexuality and disease. Beckett wants to sue the law firm for AIDS discrimination. He hires a lawyer named Joe Miller, played by Denzel Washington. Miller is admittedly homophobic, but eventually and reluctantly agrees to take the case.

I saw this film when it was first released. Being from Philadelphia I couldn’t help it. I was 21 years old at the time and a fairly new Christian. I had not thought much about homosexuality, let alone a Christian response to it. To be honest, I was repulsed by the film. I was angry that a movie apparently endorsing homosexuality was named after the city I loved, the city that raised me. All I could say at that point in my Christian journey about homosexuality is “the Bible says it’s wrong.” Obviously, I wasn’t the most thoughtful 21 year old.

I managed to avoid watching the movie for another 21 years. At the age of 42, I found myself prepared to view the film more critically, empathetically, and theologically. For the past two decades I have had friends who’ve “come out of the closet.” I have pastored and counseled people who were either seeking to overcome their sexuality or looking for someone to affirm it. I’m no expert on the topic. I’m still trying to figure out how Christians can respond with grace and truth, redemptively and biblically. But I think Philadelphia presents a helpful picture that can inform the Church’s response to homosexuality and, more importantly, homosexuals.

Joe Miller, played by Denzel Washington, offers a better response to this tough topic than Christians have generally responded. If you are an all-grace type of person, Joe Miller will offend you. If you are an all-truth type of person, Joe Miller will offend you. “Jesus came from the father full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Truth without grace is no truth at all. Grace without truth is no grace at all. Joe, like Jesus, embodies both. The Church can learn a lot from a fictional character named Joe Miller.

• Joe Miller maintains his convictions about homosexuality. Though Miller certainly softens toward Beckett, the former never embraces or endorses homosexuality. Throughout the movie we anticipate that Miller will chuck his convictions out the window for the sake of tolerance. He does not. His convictions might be slightly modified, but he never denounces what he believes to be true. Sweeping his convictions under the rug would be, in my opinion, dishonest and unloving. His convictions, however, never become a license to hate a human being. This brings me to my next observation.
• Joe Miller humanizes the homosexual. Miller does not speak a denigrating word to Beckett or anyone else because of Beckett’s sexuality, except for early in the movie while joking with his wife. But as the story progresses, Miller’s words to and about Beckett are empathetic and humanizing, not cold and dehumanizing. We would not find Miller outside of a court house holding up a sign that reads, “God hates fags.”
• Joe Miller develops a friendship with the homosexual. It’s easy to hate someone from a distance. But, when we get up close and personal to another person we realize that, despite our drastic differences, we are bound by virtue of our common humanity. While Miller’s outward appearances, preferences and practices differ significantly from Beckett, they both know what it’s like to love, to hurt, to hope, to struggle, to doubt, and to fear. Miller is able to locate the common human experiences that bind him and Beckett together beyond their differences. Their common humanity becomes the ground of their friendship, despite the divergence of their sexual orientations.
• Joe Miller seeks justice for the homosexual. Again, Miller does not endorse the sexual orientation of Beckett. He does, however, seek justice on Beckett’s behalf. There is a way to seek justice for the homosexual without endorsing homosexuality. Few Christians know how to do this as well as Miller. A hardworking lawyer should not be fired from his job simply because of his homosexual orientation. Miller knows this to his core and does something about it, even at the expense of his own reputation. 21^st century American homosexuals are human beings living in a free country. While you and I may not celebrate their sexuality, like some gay lobbyists want us to, we are called, in Christ, to seek justice for all.           

Joe Miller has found a way to embody, in equal measure, conviction and compassion. The Church must find a way to do the same in response to homosexuals and homosexuality. Check out the movie. It’s free if you have Amazon Prime. More importantly, read the Gospels with me as we seek to embody the Christ who “came from the father full of grace and truth.” More compelling than a fictional character in a movie is the ongoing witness of the real Church in the real world.

Still a work in progress with you,

Lenny