Author Archives: Andy Stoddard

Andy Stoddard ~ Is God Our First Look?

It can be frustrating to do right. It can be hard to be faithful and to follow God, especially when you see so many others that, in your mind, are not. We see the wickedness. The greed. All the things that others are doing wrong.

It can be easy to give up, to say, “why keep trying?”

Why should I work so hard to be faithful when so many others are not? Or it can be easy to harden our hearts against others. To say, “they are all so wrong, but I am better than others.” It is easy to become like the Pharisee who prayed, “Lord, thank you that I am not a tax collector!”

How do we keep from falling into either of these traps? Listen to what we are told in Micah 7:4-7:

The best of them is like a brier, the most upright of them a thorn hedge. The day of their sentinels, of their punishment, has come; now their confusion is at hand. Put no trust in a friend, have no confidence in a loved one; guard the doors of your mouth from her who lies in your embrace; for the son treats the father with contempt, the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; your enemies are members of your own household. But as for me, I will look to the LORD, I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.

Micah sees sin and corruption all around. He sees how so many turn from God. He sees how so many live opposite of the way that God wants. It would be easy for him to either give up or harden his heart. What does he do?

Look at verse 7 – “I will look to the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.” Micah takes his eyes off of others, he takes his eyes off of himself, he looks at God.

Today, if you feel like giving up, if you question why should you keep trying when no one else even cares – are you looking first to God?

Today, if you feel judgmental towards others – angered at their unrighteousness – are you looking first to God?

Today, is God is our first look? Do we look to God, do we wait on him, do we turn first to him above looking at others and ourselves? If we keep our eyes on God, above everything and everyone else, we will find our path forward.

We will be able to faithful in a world that doesn’t feel faithful, and we will be able to love those who are walking in ways that we don’t approve.

When we keep our eyes on God first, we find our path forward to live.

Andy Stoddard ~ Preaching for the Long Haul: How to Find Your Voice

My first appointment out of seminary was the hardest appointment that I’ve ever had. It wasn’t because the people were hard to pastor: they were some of the sweetest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving. It wasn’t because the church was located in a bad place: it was out in the country, a beautiful church and beautiful parsonage. It wasn’t because the pastor I followed was troublesome: in fact, he became and remains one of my closest friends.

It was because I had not yet found my preaching voice. I, like most United Methodist preachers, took homiletics – preaching – in seminary. It was perfectly fine. I did fine in it. My lack of voice wasn’t the fault of my seminary education. It’s just that I did not know who I was in the pulpit.

The churches I served during my seminary years were wonderful, they loved me and I loved them. But my great responsibility there was pastoral care. In this appointment, I had to preach. The people there expected a good sermon. And my friend whom I followed is the best pulpit preacher in the Mississippi Annual Conference.

At that point, young in my ministry – and I’m not being falsely humble – I was not a gifted preacher. It wasn’t because I didn’t try: I did. It wasn’t because I wasn’t praying: I spent hours praying over each message. It wasn’t because I didn’t care: I worried about every word I would say.

I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t unspiritual. I wasn’t uncaring. I just couldn’t preach.

So what did I do? I kept at it. I listened to sermons of those I admired. I read books. I prayed. I worked. I tried things. I experimented. I got loud. I got quiet. I got high church. I got low church. I followed the lectionary. I preached through books of the Bible. I created themes. I did everything I could think of until one day I found it.

I found my voice.

My voice is this:

I love humor. I love CS Lewis. I love personal experience. I am transparent, but I do not treat the sermon like the therapist’s couch. I wander around, I don’t stay behind the pulpit. I preach without notes, but my sermon is not memorized: I say it is internalized. I really love Jesus, and I want you to as well. I believe in hell, but I’m not a hellfire preacher – Romans 2:4 says that we are driven to repentance by the kindness of Christ. I believe in transformation. I believe in grace. I believe that when the word is proclaimed, each time lives can be changed.

I found my voice. I have never departed from it. My wardrobe has changed; I’ve preached in suits, robes, and blue jeans. Many things have changed about my ministry. But what hasn’t is my voice.

How did I find it? How do I keep it?

First, I do my very best to be authentic. I don’t have a preacher voice and a real voice: I have my voice. I try to preach like I talk. I am just me. I like Marvel. I like Star Wars. I talk about them in my sermons. I try to just be a normal person who loves Jesus and loves people. I am unafraid to talk about what is really going on my life, while not airing my dirty laundry. I am simply Andy Stoddard and I try to preach while remaining who I am.

Second, I know that I am imperfect, and I am not afraid to try to get better. I talk too fast. I always have, probably always will. I work on it. I try hard not to. But when I get excited and start “hollering” (what my music minister calls it) sometimes I speed up. I know it and I work on it. The hardest thing for a preacher to hear sometimes about a message is criticism. It’s hard for me to hear, but I need it. I want people to know Jesus, and I know that the sermon is a great tool in that, so I want to know where I can get better. I want to know where I can improve. I don’t always like it, but I need it.

Third, I follow a plan. Sometimes it is the lectionary, but not always, and not normally. We’ve just finished eight weeks in Philippians at St. Matthew’s. We are entering into a series on fear and commitment now. Next month we’ll be in the lectionary and will stay with it through Advent. What I do not do is just pick a passage of scripture at the last minute. I pray about where my flock is at this moment. Where am I at this moment? I talk with my associate pastors: what do they think? What feedback do they have? And then I plan at least a month out what we will preach on.

Fourth, I know my people. Preaching is an act of pastoral care. For me to properly share the word with my people, I must know them and love them. They must know that I love them. I am their shepherd. Preaching flows from my love of God and my love of my people. What do they need to hear to grow? Sometimes it’s encouragement. Sometimes it’s a kick in the pants. But it always comes down to what I feel they need to hear. My pastoral heart guides my preaching. My people know I love them and because of that, they are more likely to listen to what God wants to say through me.

Last, I say what Jesus wants me to say. The scariest as well as the most exciting moment of ministry is when you get up to preach on Sunday and the Lord says nope, you’re not preaching that. In fact, you are preaching this right here. That has only happened to me about four or five times in twenty years of ministry, when God has upended my preaching. Even though it cuts against the grain of what I do, I always follow in those moments, because my preaching is not about me or what I want to say. One of my professors in seminary used to say that the preacher needs to be able to say, “thus sayeth the Lord,” knowing they are saying what God wants, not what they want. That is my mission each week in the pulpit. What does God want me to say? Will I say it? That’s my job.

In the end, I’m an adequate preacher. There are folks worse than me and there are many, many, many who are better than me. I have worked hard at this calling, though. The best words about preaching were said by Dr. Harold Bryson, Professor of Homiletics at Mississippi College: “Prepare like it depends upon you. Preach knowing it depends upon God.” I’ve tried to do that within my ministry and I believe it is key for all of us preachers. Let’s do our job. But we know that the harvest, the revival, is God’s.

Also, take heart! If God can speak through Balaam’s donkey, God can speak through any of us!

Andy Stoddard ~ The Limits of Leadership: Integrity and Incarnation

Note from the Editor: This week at Wesleyan Accent, as we scan, with grief, ongoing news from seeker-sensitive Protestant megachurches and Roman Catholic dioceses, we are reaching into our treasure trove of archives to reexamine different aspects of leadership. Our contributors over the years have written thoughtful, challenging reflections on leadership from a variety of perspectives.

Out of the gate, we highlight this Christocentric meditation from Rev. Andy Stoddard.

One of my great hesitancies when I first entered the ministry concerned leadership. I was afraid to lead. I had too many doubts. What if I choose wrong? What if I lead my people poorly? What if I make a mistake and it all falls apart?

As I was going through ordination in the United Methodist Church, my mentor suggested I read In the Name of Jesus by Henri Nouwen, and that introduced me to the life of leadership in ministry. And my heart was on fire! Now I love leadership. While there are many, many ways that I need continued growth, leadership is truly life-giving to me.

But at a pastor’s conference a few years back, something happened that caused me to stop and rethink this passion. The speakers kept hammering the theme, “leadership, leadership, leadership!” And I agreed with them in principle – but I turned to my youth pastor and said, “Honest question that I don’t know the answer to: is leadership the chief virtue you want in your pastor?” In the years since I have thought long and hard about that question. Is leadership the chief virtue we desire for our pastors?

As important as leadership is, it cannot be the driving force of ministry. So, then, what is? What is the virtue that we as pastors need to develop in our lives and that our people need from us most of all?

It’s a struggle to find the right word, but the closest thing I can come up with is incarnation. The goal of salvation is the recovery of the image of God that had been corrupted by the fall. Our very salvation is part of the process, whereby the Holy Spirit, through the means of grace, draws us closer to God and we grow deeper in his grace and love. Through that grace, we love God fully and love our neighbor fully. That’s the purpose of all our salvation, and in the end, our ministry.

I think that ministry today must be led out of incarnation. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1). Emmanuel, God with us. Through Jesus Christ, the fullness of God was blessed to dwell. He is true God from true God, begotten, not made, as we confess in the Nicene Creed. As we are filled with the Holy Spirit, Christ dwells within us. I think that this notion of ministry, flowing from incarnation, paints a path forward for us, and for the Body of Christ.

With so many pastoral leaders fallen in integrity breakdowns along with what seems to be the current unraveling of power structures within our society, we are beginning to see those without a voice now having a voice to speak truth to the power that has harmed them. When we see this and we see the (often) men at fault, it is easy to say, just stop it! Just stop being a cad, just stop abusing power, just stop.

Those words should and must be said. As a pastor who has been blessed to work with amazing female pastors and leaders, one of my main jobs as a leader is to help create a space where everyone, every voice, feels safe.

But for pastors, our ministry must not only be based upon morality; it must be based upon incarnation. To me, this means a couple of things.

First, to do ministry out of the Incarnation is to see the inherent worth of others. It is so easy for leaders in many fields to see people as existing only to serve whatever purpose they have for that leader. Eugene Peterson makes an analogy in The Contemplative Pastor that compares program-driven ministry to strip-mining the land: using others for our purpose or our goals and then discarding them when we are finished. Yet the Incarnation reminds us that Jesus died for the world: all of the world. And everyone, male, female, young, old, powerful, or powerless, everyone has an inherent worth that comes from being made in the image of God. If we do ministry out of the Incarnation, no one is an “object” to be used by the leader. Everyone is a beloved child whom Christ came to save. We must treat all with the radical love of Christ.

Let me say this again, and say it loudly: everyone has worth. No one is an object, and any ministry or leadership philosophy that leads people to deny that or not to see that inherent worth in others is wrong and not of God.

Second, to do ministry out of the Incarnation allows us to see the source of our strength. One of the things that constantly amazes me is how our society seeks to see spiritual matters through clinical terms. The answer to every ill our society faces is education, or jobs, or other “fixes.” While education, money, and resources are vital to living a life with hope today, they are not the fix. I have heard this quote attributed to C.S. Lewis: “Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil.”

Our education or even our values do not stand on their own. While yes, in how we treat each other, we need helpful guidelines that keep us walking together, in the end, we will not treat others with the respect they are due unless we see their worth and allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives, changing us, molding us, making us into the people God desires us to be.

Ministry, and life, in general, are not an act of willpower.

Ministry is an act of surrender to the Spirit who lives within us. We are called to live and to lead out of the Incarnation, the spirit of Christ dwelling within us. We are not called to stand up and fight, but to fall to our knees and surrender. The Incarnation reminds us where our strength comes from.

And lastly, to do ministry out of the Incarnation reminds us of the purpose of our faith. Jesus Christ died for the world. That’s why ministers do what we do. He loves all. All can be saved, and as Wesley said, all can be saved to the uttermost. And the church is not a Fortune 500 company. It is not a corporation. It is a living, breathing body. We are not here to build a more efficient organization; we are here to tend to and lead the Body of Christ. As Christ fills us, we fill the church, and the church fills the world. We live out that grace and hope. We are the protector of the weak, the widow, the orphan. We love, we serve, we give, all through the power of Christ.

Because that is what we are here for. Not to grow. Not to use people. Not for fame, attention, or power. But to live out the power of Christ within us, the mystery of God.

We have been called into Christ’s ministry. Our world needs the church and Christian leaders to live out of this calling now more than ever.

Read more of Andy’s writing here.

Andy Stoddard ~ Receiving the Value of Sabbaticals

I’m at just about the halfway point of renewal leave (i.e. Sabbatical).

I took my first church job in 1997, and ever since then, I’ve worked in the church. A couple of them were part-time, and then I took my first appointment at a pastor in 1999 to three small United Methodist Churches outside of Cleveland, MS. In other words, I’ve worked in the church for over 20 years and never really taken a moment to breathe.

First, let me tell you what I’ve done:

Spent time with my wife and kids. I feel like I’ve been more present with family than I have in years. Holly and I talk, really talk, more than ever. We’ve always been good, but I feel like we’re closer than ever. I’ve also done a lot of Mr. Mom: I’ve taken the kids to appointments, VBS, camps, I’ve been the taxi service this summer. It’s been fun to spend lazy time with them. I haven’t done that during their lives. Something (or someone) else always took importance over them. I’m doing my very best to focus on them and spend both quantity and quality time together. Sarah and I went to Hamilton and are going to another concert this summer. Thomas and I started playing golf together. I’m just trying to spend as much “present” time with them as possible. I know I can’t make up for missed time, but I can be present now.
Spent time with family. On the weekends we go south to either my parents or Holly’s parents. My mom is 89, daddy is 79. Just like the kids, I haven’t been present with them. I’m trying to take advantage of this gift and just be present with them as well.
Gone to church. While with family, we’ve gone to church with them. We’ve worshiped at Holly’s parents’ church and my home church. It’s been great to be on the same pew with family, and for the first time since 1997, I’ve been able to go to church with my mom and dad. I am thankful for that.
Prayed. One of the hardest things to do as a preacher is to read the Bible and pray simply for your own soul. So often when you go to the Bible and pray, you are looking to feed others, not to be fed yourself. I’ve been serious and intentional in my prayer life to not think about what God wants me to say to you. What does God want to say to me? And I am thankful because I’ve heard his voice this summer.
Exercised. One of my great weaknesses is that I am unhealthy in my lifestyle. I eat too much. I don’t exercise. This summer I have been intentional in this area as well; I’ve sought to walk, every day. It’s been good for my body and my soul.
Reconnected with old friends and mentors. I’ve had some dear friends and mentors in ministry that the last few weeks I’ve reconnected with. For this as well I am thankful.
Oh and I’m growing a beard. Just because. Thus far Holly hasn’t killed me. Yet.

Interesting observations:

The number of clergy persons older than me wishing they had done it. At Conference this year, I had many people come up to me and tell me that they wish that they had done this: taken a break and focus on their family and their health. Listen, I don’t want to sit here and tell you that being a preacher is harder than any other job. My daddy drove a truck for a living. But I will say this; preaching has a way if you are not careful, of burning you out. You put everything over your family. You live and die with weekly worship numbers. You put pressure on yourself to be perfect. You can’t have a bad day. You can’t mess up. It can just get inside your soul. I am not going to live like that any longer.
The number of preachers my age and younger that would love to do it. But they are worried about what people would think. What about their church? Their DS? Others? I can tell you is this, if taking a break is something that you feel like you need to do, do it. You will be more effective for the Kingdom by doing this.
Social media gets into your soul. One of the things I’ve done is gotten off Facebook. It’s been good for me. I am less anxious about a lot of things, I’m not as worried about so many things. Am I less informed? I still read the news and the newspaper. But I don’t feel the same onslaught that I have before. But at first, you don’t realize how much you are on it until it’s not there. I took the app off my phone, and for the first week I found myself going to it subconsciously all the time. That really surprised me.
I am thankful to be a Mississippi United Methodist. I have an amazing church, District Superintendent, and Bishop. They have all loved me enough to help me take this time. I am thankful for each of them.

What I’ve learned spiritually:

I care too much about what people think. For too long I have worried more about what people think than I do with being faithful and following the call of the Gospel. I have worried more about what people think than what is best for my soul, my family, and honestly, the church. Through God’s grace, I will not return to this way of thinking.
I have forgotten that Jesus is the main thing. I have focused on numbers. Success. Growth. All of these things. They don’t matter. What matters? Jesus. Being loved by Jesus, loving Jesus, and loving others through Jesus. That is what matters.
My spiritual life had become a chess game. If I am faithful spiritually, God will do amazing things. Or if I am not, God will not be. And if I mess up, God will get my family or me as punishment. If I read my Bible and pray, God will protect my family and grow my church. If I don’t, he won’t. And it will be my fault. But it’s not my church; it’s his. And he loves my family even more than I do. I was not seeking God to know his face and his grace, but for protection and blessing. I need to delight in him because that is where my life is found. For no other reason.

What are we going to do the rest of the summer?

Spend more time with family. We’ll be heading south to see our family some more. We’ll get to go to Homecoming at Johnston Chapel, worship with our family on the coast, and just spend some time together.
Go to the coast for a short vacation. We don’t have big plans, just spending time together.
See Imagine Dragons. Sarah and I have gone to Hamilton and later next month we’ll go to an Imagine Dragons concert together. We are having a good time.
Golf with Thomas. Thomas and I have been going to the driving range a good bit, and I’m looking forward to some more.
Go to Church. We’ll worship with family, probably go to church with a friend who serves here in Madison, and worship with one of Sarah’s friends, whose dad is a pastor in Jackson.

I’ll be back in the office August 1 and my first Sunday back in the pulpit is August 5. I am thankful for this summer, this renewal. I really believe it is making me a more faithful follower of Christ, a better husband and father, and hopefully a better pastor.

Andy Stoddard ~ To Observe a Holy Lent

As we prepare to enter into the season of Lent, there is always a call to fasting. That is one of the definitive features of this time of Lent. It is a time to pull back from all the abundance of our life, particularly for those of us in the West, and to refocus ourselves upon God, on our great need for him, and on the mercy that he provides over and over again.

We see this call with the Ash Wednesday Service Liturgy within the United Methodist Church:

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church,

to observe a holy Lent:

by self–examination and repentance;

by prayer, fasting, and self–denial;

and by reading and meditating on God’s Holy Word.

I’ve always had a little bit of an awkward relationship with Lent. On one hand, I know that it’s necessary. I know that we must repent of our sins, turn from them, refocus and shift our lives towards God. We need this.

But for me, one of my key verses is Romans 2:4, “Or do you despise the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience? Do you not realize that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” We repent because of the kindness of Christ.

So Lent can leave me feeling a little uneasy. We need to focus on sin. We need to focus on fasting and discipline. We need to focus on our great need for God.

But we also need to remember that as much as we search for God, God is calling out for us. We are loved. We are valued. We are of sacred worth.

We fast to refocus. But refocus on what?

Not our human frailty.

Not our human loss.

Not our human weakness.

We focus on the goodness of God.

The grace of God.

The love of God that does not beat us down or break us apart.

The love of God that does not make us feel inadequate or unworthy. No, that’s not the love of God.

The love of God reminds us that we are made in his image. We are called by his name. We are him.

The love of God builds up.

We fast to clear away the noise and the pain and the hurt. We fast to tune our hearts to his grace. We fast, even in the midst of our pain and brokenness, not to be torn down.

No, we fast to be built up. To be reminded of what matters and where life is found. We fast so that our ears can properly hear that voice of God, calling out to us.

In this season of Lent, no matter where you find yourself, may we all commit to a holy Lent. May we fast. May we pray. And may we hear the voice of our God calling us back, once again, to the healing power of his love.

May this be for us all a holy Lent.

Andy Stoddard ~ The Limits of Leadership: Integrity and Incarnation

But for pastors, our ministry must not only be based upon morality; it must be based upon incarnation. To me, this means a couple of things.

Ministry, and life, in general, are not an act of willpower.

And lastly, to do ministry out of the Incarnation reminds us of the purpose of our faith. Jesus Christ died for the world. That’s why ministers do what we do. He loves all. All can be saved, and as Wesley said, all can be saved to the uttermost. We are not here to build a more efficient organization; we are here to tend to and lead the Body of Christ. The church is not a Fortune 500 company. It is not a corporation. It is a living, breathing body. As Christ fills us, we fill the church, and the church fills the world. We live out that grace and hope. We are the protector of the weak, the widow, the orphan. We love, we serve, we give, all through the power of Christ.

Because that is what we are here for. Not to grow. Not to use people. Not for fame, attention, or power. But to live out the power of Christ within us, the mystery of God.

We have been called into Christ’s ministry. Our world needs the church and Christian leaders to live out of this calling now more than ever.

Note: featured image is “Follow Me, Satan: The Temptation of Jesus Christ” by Ilya Repin.

Andy Stoddard ~ When You Don’t Have the Words

Have you ever felt like there was something that you needed to say for Jesus, but you didn’t have the words?  You didn’t know what you should say or how you should say it?  I’ve been there.  I think we’ve all been there. At times, we talk ourselves out of witnessing to someone or saying something to someone, because of fear within us about what we should say.

That feeling is okay.  That feeling is natural.  That feeling doesn’t make you a bad person or a weak Christian.  It makes you normal.  Listen to what Jesus tells his followers today in Matthew 10: 17-20:

Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; and you will be dragged before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them and the Gentiles. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.

Jesus says this – you won’t always know what to say.  And that’s okay because your Father will.  He will send the Spirit to speak for you in those times.  Not everyone will like you.  Not everyone will respect you.  Folks will disagree with you.  And that’s okay.

Because with your words, your actions, your very life, you will give witness to the one who died for everyone – even the folks who aren’t acting with grace towards you.  You will be that witness, for everyone to know, see, and experience Jesus’ grace.

And if you don’t know what to say, that’s alright. Listen. Speak. Trust.  God will give you the words. Not having all the words is okay. It’s not up to you.  It’s up to him.  And God will be faithful today.

Follow the Spirit today.  God will lead you where he wants to and will speak through what he wants. Even when you don’t have the words.

Andy Stoddard ~ What’s the Point of Freedom? Self-Expression vs Self-Control

Recently I read a quote that has stuck with me: “looking at our culture, you’d think self-expression, not self-control, is a virtue.”  I’ve thought a lot about that: there is a lot there.  Today’s reading from 1 Corinthians 8: 9-13 brought it back to my mind:

But take care that this liberty of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak. For if others see you, who possess knowledge, eating in the temple of an idol, might they not, since their conscience is weak, be encouraged to the point of eating food sacrificed to idols? So by your knowledge those weak believers for whom Christ died are destroyed. But when you thus sin against members of your family, and wound their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if food is a cause of their falling, I will never eat meat, so that I may not cause one of them to fall.

In Paul’s day, there was much debate in the church about what you could and could not eat.  Should you eat food that has been dedicated to idols?  Should you not?  What should you do as a Christian?  This is something that we see over and over in the New Testament.  What should a Christian do?

Paul really lays it out here.  You know what?  Sure, you can.  It’s your right.  You can do it.  But, if you harm another person, as a Christian, should you really do it?  Is it worth it?

That’s why Paul says, if food bothers someone, then I’ll never eat meat.

People matter more than meat.  They are more important.

In our culture, you and I doing what we want is the most important thing.  Or at least that is what we are told over and over again.  But according to the Bible, being willing to sacrifice myself for you is the most important thing.

It’s not about me. Rick Warren starts off his book The Purpose Driven Life with that statement: “it’s not about you.”  It’s not about you and me.  It’s about loving others more than we love ourselves.

I should love you more than I love doing what I want.  I should lay down my life, my preference, for you.  Because you matter.  Jesus died for you.  He loves you.

And if I get what I want but harm you, have I really accomplished anything?

Self-control is a virtue.  It is a fruit of the Spirit.  And it is an awareness that it is really not all about us.  And here’s the awesome thing.  That’s where freedom comes from.  Freedom is not doing what we want all the time, living for ourselves.  Freedom is living under the grace of God.  Because then we are truly free.

Today, let’s remember that self-control is a virtue.  Let’s remember that just because we want to do something, or we can do something, doesn’t mean that we should.  Let’s live for God.  Let’s live for others.

And in that, let’s find true freedom.

Andy Stoddard ~ If You Can’t Say Nothin’ Good

Sometimes when we read scripture we wonder, “what can this passage be saying to me in this moment?  How can I understand it?  What may God want me to do with this truth at this time in my life?”  Sometimes it can be hard to understand, hard to deal with.

And then there are other passages that are so simple they leap off the page.  Today’s passage, to me, is one of the “leap off the page” passages.  Listen to what we are told in James 3: 7-10:

For every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, but no one can tame the tongue – a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.

Like our mamas said growing up, “If you can’t say nothin’ good, don’t say nothin’ at all.”  Today, the way we “say” things may be different, though.  Sometimes we “say” with our mouths.  

Sometimes we say it with our Facebook posts and comments.  Sometimes Twitter.

Sometimes Snapchat or Instagram.

Sometimes texting.

As Christians, we cannot do this.  We cannot be in the business of tearing each other down.  The world does a good enough job of that.  We’ve got to build up.  We’ve got to speak kindness.  We’ve got to speak grace.

Now, I’m going to get on my soapbox that I’ve been on for a while now.  I’m not saying we have to agree with each other.  I’m not saying, honestly, that we’ve even got to like each other. But we’ve got to realize and live into what James says here – they are made in the likeness of our Creator.  Everyone.  Folks we like, folks we don’t. Those who are right, those who are wrong.  All of us are made in God’s image.

And we’ve got to treat each other that way.

We’ve got to speak to each other that way.

We as Christians must season our language with grace.

Today, may God’s grace tame our tongues.  May we speak grace to one another.  May we speak grace to those we agree with, and to those we don’t agree with.

May we treat everyone as they are, someone made in the image of God.

Andy Stoddard ~ Why Ministry?

You can read all kinds of studies out there showing that ministry is isolating. You see the stats that pastors experience burnout in staggering numbers. I remember sitting in class and hearing that many of the people to your right and your left will not be there in a few years. I remember laughing and thinking to myself, oh, not us. We will be just fine.

I was wrong. They were right.

Ministry is hard.

I’m sitting here drinking coffee kicking myself for being short with my wife last night because of the stress of five different situations I’m dealing with in our local church and Annual Conference. Thinking through these things distracted me from my family that I am leaving in a few days for a week-long mission trip. My daughter and I had a conversation this morning on the way to school about our moves in ministry, how they’ve affected her. She doesn’t like them, but there’s nothing she can do about it either.

Ministry is hard.

I had a professor in seminary say once we should never allow another clergy person to be buried, or bury a loved one, alone because we each understand the calling and the effects of the calling.

But – I wouldn’t trade my calling for anything in the world.

Because it is just that, it is a calling. It’s something that gives me life. I get to tell folks about Jesus! I get to see the light come back into someone’s eyes when they make that decision to follow Jesus. I get to hold the hand of the sick and the dying. I get to build bridges across race and culture. I get to speak peace to a hurting world. In a world that often calls us to our darker angels, I get to call us to our brighter angels.

As Jeremiah said – I’ve got a fire in my bones. I have something that compels me, that pushes me, that won’t let me go. It’s that very word I used early on. A calling.

I ran from it at first. I first felt that call at Camp Wesley Pines as a student. But I knew that was just my extroverted self, wanting to be around people all the time. So I ran from it and did some things that I’m not proud of. Eventually, I found my way to God, or better put, God’s grace kept seeking me.

I started speaking in churches, camps, all kind of places. But I knew that I couldn’t be a preacher. I was raised to be a doctor. I was majoring in chemistry. I was president of the American Chemical Society at Mississippi College. My entire future was built around going to med school. It was what I thought everyone wanted for me.

I wasn’t happy. It was more than that, though. I wasn’t fulfilled. I knew there was more. I did. I knew there was more. So one day while reading Galatians on the porch of a camp on the Mississippi Gulf Coast that’s no longer even around after Hurricane Katrina, I felt God tell me – Andy, this is your calling. This is what are you supposed to do. This is what I made you for.

I surrendered my life to God’s will at that point. I accepted my calling. Here I am, twenty years later, having served churches across the state. And I am thankful.

It’s been hard. It’s been a challenge. It’s brought tears to my eyes, my wife’s eyes, my children’s eyes. But I wouldn’t trade it for all the world. As Martin Luther said, “Here I stand: I can do no other.”

Now, how I came back to ministry in the United Methodist Church is a whole other story for a whole other time.

You may remember the movie Chariots of Fire. It’s the story of Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams. It’s a story of faith and overcoming, a powerful movie. In it, as Liddle is thinking through his conflict between ministry and his running, he says this: “God made me fast. When I run I feel his pleasure.”

That’s how ministry makes me feel. I feel God’s pleasure. No matter the challenges that may come through it, I know that I am doing exactly what God has created me to do. I feel God’s pleasure.