Pastoral Notes for Sunday, March 21, 2021


This week I asked Ben Griffith to tell us a bit about the book that the Tuesday Men’s Book Study has been reading:

This semester in our Tuesday Morning men’s book study we’ve worked our way through Dr. Irwin Ince’s The Beautiful Community: Unity, Diversity, and the Church at it’s Best. It’s a book about race and the church, written by an African American pastor in the PCA, and I would highly recommend it. It was a privilege to process and digest it around the table with a group of brothers who were committed to learning from each other, growing together, and being stretched and challenged in new ways around these weighty matters. I learned from Ince and I also learned from how other men learned from Ince, which is why we do this kind of thing. Shameless plug—men, we’ll be starting a new book soon, and we’d love for you to join us on Tuesday mornings! Stay tuned.

I want to briefly share with you one reason why I’d recommend you read this book and one of the major takeaways for me from reading and discussing it. To begin, I’d recommend The Beautiful Community because it will help you get to know the God of the Bible better. Yes, it’s a book about race and the church, a subject that has a long and ugly history and a painful and complex present. And yes, it’s about ways that Christians can be a part of the problem and are called to be a part of the solution. But it’s first and foremost a book about God—which is where this dialogue has to start and has to stay in order for true healing and hope to be possible. The “beautiful community” is actually God himself, who exists as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the perfect and ultimate expression of unity in diversity and diversity in unity. And we are made in his image and called to reflect this divine Beautiful Community! This is Ince’s driving theme throughout the book. The gospel imperative to pursue unity in diversity across lines of difference is rooted in the beauty of who God is, and the beauty of who he’s saved us to become. I was drawn closer to the “multicultural heart of the Father” by reading and wresting through the practical implications that Ince teases out of this doctrinal goldmine and was gently but clearly shown ways that I either forget or downplay this beautiful truth. Even as he leads his readers through some of the complex, sad, and sometimes overwhelming realities involved here, Ince keeps our eyes on our beautiful God and his beautiful gospel as the best and only resource available to us in our calling to pursue beautiful community.

One of the things that I’m taking away from The Beautiful Community is a renewed impression of two things: the enormity of the task ahead of us as Christians when it comes to race relations in the church, and the inevitability of the victory ahead of us. The task is enormous because people are sinful and the world is broken. It actually seems to grow more enormous the more I learn about myself, our history, and other people’s experiences. But the victory is inevitable because the beautiful community isn’t our idea—it’s God’s. We know that this beautiful and broken world is barreling through time towards Revelation 7 where we see “people from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” worshipping together in beautiful community before the throne. And Ince reminds me that I’m invited and called to practice for that inevitable eternity now, with my eyes on the One who made that eternity inevitable. As he says in the introduction, “What will enable us to actively resist the pernicious polarization that has been present in the church in America from the beginning? It will not be the fact that diversity is a hot topic in culture today. It will not be the pressure to appear viable or acceptable to the world. The pursuit is too hard. It is too perplexing and often too painful, if our commitment is not drenched in the beautiful truth that we are participating in the beautiful plan and purpose of our beautiful God.”

Pastoral Notes for Sunday, March 14, 2021

Dear Cornerstone Family,

As hard as it is to believe, today marks a year of COVID-19 disruption to our congregational life at Cornerstone. It was on Sunday, March 15, 2020, when we cancelled in-person Sunday morning services due to COVID-19. On that first Sunday, we sent out via email a modified worship liturgy for home use and a video sermon I preached several years earlier at another church. At the time, we thought the virus may affect us for a few weeks, maybe a month. We couldn’t have been more wrong.

As news reports about the deadliness of the virus spread, including projections of death tolls in the tens of millions, we began to realize that a “new normal” was taking shape. While virus numbers in Williamson County climbed quickly, a number of Cornerstone staff and members jumped into action exploring livestream worship. Within a few days, we built a make-shift livestream platform from scratch in order to worship online together.

On Sunday, March 22, our first livestream worship service happened. Though it went smoothly on the church end, we had trouble with the internet bandwidth that morning. Many of you suffered through the frustrations of a stop-and-start buffered worship service. It was so bad for others of you that you had to wait for the recording to be available later that day. But praise be to God, through fits and spurts, the first livestream-only worship service of Cornerstone was in the books.

Though livestream worship is not, in the truest biblical sense, corporate worship, under the circumstances we believed that utilizing a technological platform to “gather together” where the Word could be read and preached, prayers prayed, songs sung, etc. was critical to the spiritual health of the congregation. Though none of us were sure how long this stop gap measure was going to be needed, we felt a deep sense of gratefulness that we could share together even technologically in the forms of worship and continue to encourage one another in the faith during a time of great trial and turmoil.

I went back to the video archives and viewed part of that first livestream worship service. Boy, it made me grateful for Anneke Seely, the Steffens family, Maxwill Shell, Ethan Vroom, and others who stepped up and served early and often during the lockdown. I’m also very grateful for Greg Wilbur, Ken Carpenter, Charlie Lico, and Jeremy Steffens in helping us think through and troubleshoot matters related to livestream and filming. It was a steep learning curve, but with the help of these friends (and a lot of grace), we pulled it off.

The first livestream sermon text was Luke 7:11-17, the story of the widow of Nain. Returning to my notes this week, I was struck by this paragraph:

“If you just want COVID-19 to go away so you can get back to feeling like you’re in control of your life, then know this: God is not interested in that for you. If you’re a child of God today, then know that this crisis is nothing but the loving hand of your heavenly Father tearing you away from the things of this world; the things you tend to look to for life, stability, strength, joy, a sense of self-worth, etc. in order that all your trust will be in Him. In order that in Jesus Christ alone you would find life.”

I need to hear that again this week. Who am I kidding? I need to hear that every week! As virus numbers fall and as vaccines spread (and praise God for that!), may we not lose sight of the spiritual lessons God has been teaching us through the pandemic. Chief among those lessons—that our life is found in Jesus Christ. Let’s approach worship today with this in mind.

Your servant,

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Pastoral Notes for Sunday, March 7, 2021

Dear Cornerstone Family,

Let the reality of this next statement settle on you for a moment: you are going to die. It could be today or tomorrow, or maybe 60 or 70 years from now. For most of us, it will be sometime between now and then. Nevertheless, the fact remains, if the Lord doesn’t return before long, we are going to die. You are going to die. 

 In modern times, we work hard at not thinking of death. We’d rather focus on the temporal matters right before us and get on with it. But Christianity teaches that when we refuse to take death into account as we live, we’re destined to live deluded and deceived existences. When we stave off thoughts of our own mortality, we’re doomed to waste our lives on trivial matters. For, as Moses reminds us, we never gain a heart of wisdom if we don’t learn to number our days (Psalm 90:12). 

 Historically, the church understood this. If you’ve ever visited Europe or a historic U.S. city and had the privilege to tour some ancient churches, you’ve likely noticed a graveyard surrounding the church. Lining the pathways leading to the church’s entrance are tombstones with images of skulls, or skeletons, or angels. Bits of Scripture inscribed on the stones reminding you life is vain and fleeting (Ecclesiastes 1:2), to die in Christ is gain (Philippians 1:21), to lay up heavenly treasure—the only treasure that lasts (Matthew 6:19-21). 

 Aside from the fittingness of being laid to rest where you were most at rest in life—in the presence of God and His people—the graveyard served as a living reminder of mortality to the living. Each Lord’s Day, worshipers literally stepped over the dead on their way to offer a sacrifice of praise. They faced eternity on their way to meet with the Eternal.

 Now, lest we misunderstand, remembering that we are all dirt—and the dirt we’re made of has an expiration date—is not some dark, morbid reflection. Instead, it is intended to clear the mind’s eye, to help us see and live with eternity in view. When we remember our death, life is clarified and ordered. The things that seemed so important just a few moments ago disappear from view as eternal matters take the foreground.   

 Moreover, remembering our death leads us ultimately to Jesus Christ, for remembering our death is humbling. We come to terms with our weakness, our neediness. It brings us to our knees, to recognize our need for a Savior and the fact that we have one.  

 So, as we take time to remember death, let us recognize one more thing. Right at the center of all we believe is a cross and a resurrection—a death that put to death, death. Which is to say, when a Christian remembers death, he remembers Christ, and to remember Christ is to remember life. So, take heart, brothers and sisters. You are dust and to dust you shall return. But dust you will notremain. Let’s remember Christ—and live!

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Pastoral Notes for Sunday, February 28, 2021

Dear Cornerstone Family,

I’m often not very good at sitting still before the Lord when my heart is abuzz with the ache of longing and unfulfilled desire. To be in that soul space feels vulnerable and exposing, out of control and helpless. In my day to day life, I actually work hard to not feel that way. When I confessed this to an older pastor mentor ten years ago, he responded saying, “So, you’re working hard at avoiding your need for God and His grace.”

Ouch. I would have never said it that way to you, but as we spoke, he exposed how my uncomfortableness with my finiteness, my limitations, my weaknesses, and my general ability to satisfy myself with life, and I realized he was right. I also realized that in the flood of unfulfilled desires and disappointments, life’s many losses and crosses, God was saying to me, “Come to me, Nate. Come to me.”

Sadly, I often stubbornly say in response, “Not yet.” I’m not yet ready to come to you. I’m not ready to humble myself and admit I can’t do it. As you can see, the “not yet” is pride. I still think there’s a chance I can do it in my own strength. At other times, the “not yet” shows up as despair. I know I’m defeated, but now my pride is wounded, and I’d rather just wallow in my misery than be honest and run to God. At still other times, the “not yet” is hypocrisy. I’m pretending like I’m being faithful when I know I’m not, or I’m acting like I’m bringing my sin and needs to God when—truth be told—it’s just an act. Whatever the reason for the “not yet,” the biggest problem I faced wasn’t all my problems, but the problem of not running to the Lord for help. That was what I must overcome or, more properly, repent of, before the light and easy yoke of Jesus can be mine.

To get to a place of soul where true, heartfelt repentance is experienced requires the grace of humble effort. Notice those words—the grace of humble effort. Each of us has the holy responsibility to come to the Lord with our burdens of sin and needs. At the same time, the ability to do that comes only from God. Coming to God is a matter of grace.

Let me illustrate this. Husbands are called to love their wives as Christ loves the church (Ephesians 5:25). At the same time, no husband (if he’s honest) can do this. That is, he can’t do it on his own. That little prepositional phrase, “on his own,” is key. When God calls husbands to love their wives as Christ loves the church, God never envisions or expects husbands to do that on his own. God knows we’re spectacularly needy of Him to work in us, so that we can do what He’s called us to do.

For starters, we need Him to graciously empower us with His Spirit; renew us in His love, so that we can love others with the love that He’s loved us with. Secondly, we’re going to need Him to cover our sin and forgive us when we fail to love as we ought. Notice, we need God on the front end for the ability to obey, and we need him on the backend for all the ways we fail to obey. In other words, we need Him all the time.

This gospel dynamic is at work in all true spiritual vitality. This is why St. Augustine would say, “Lord, command what you will and grant what you command.” Go ahead, call me to do whatever you want me to do, Lord, but I beg you—provide me with the grace I need to carry it out. For without you, I can do nothing, but with you, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26). As we worship today, let this truth humble you and give you hope; that together we might experience increasing wonder, love, and praise of our gracious God!

Your servant,

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Pastoral Notes for Sunday, February 21, 2021

Dear Cornerstone Family,

Both an accomplished scholar and a fiction writer, especially of children’s literature, C.S. Lewis also found himself as a leading apologist for the Christian faith during a particular tumultuous time in Great Britain.

In the thick of WWII, Lewis was being asked by the BBC to give five live radio talks on Sunday evenings concerning Christian belief and behavior. Those five broadcasts turned into 13 broadcasts over the course of a year and were later published in a book that became the one of the greatest defenses of Christianity in the 21st century, Mere Christianity. Though it’s been nearly 70 years since it was first published, Mere Christianity continues to top the list of most influential books of Christian apologetics each year.

Part of the reason the book has endured and even grown in popularity over the decades is Lewis’ ability to both rationally defend but affectionately persuade the reader of the truth of Christianity. One walks away from Lewis’ writing with a strong sense of the believability of Christianity but also, its beauty.

At 16 years of age, I was wrestling for the first time with intellectual doubts about the faith. One of my pastors at the time recommended Mere Christianity to me. As I read it, my questions about the faith were answered. For the first time, I was persuaded of the reasonableness of Christianity. More than this, however, I saw the compelling beauty of Christianity. Lewis didn’t just help believe Christianity was true; he helped me want it to be true!

During the snow apocalypse this week, I walked through a chapter in the final section of Mere Christianity with the family about living the Christian life. At one point in the chapter, Lewis identifies what he calls “the real problem of the Christian life.” He says, “It comes at the very moment you wake up in the morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them back; in listening to that other voice, taking the other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in” (p. 154).

Such good wisdom here from Lewis. Notice, our first job in the morning is to push back against the wild animals of our desires and listen to that “other voice”—that is, the voice of God. Historically, the church has encouraged Christians toward a wake-up strategy for listening to God’s voice first thing in the morning. It goes by alternate names. We may call it morning devotion or morning prayers or quiet time, but the goal is all the same—to invite the life of God’s transforming grace into our hearts to lead our day.

If you don’t have a wake-up strategy for meeting with God first thing, Lent is a great time to start something new! It doesn’t have to be big. For years, I’ve quoted Psalm 118:24 when I first get out of bed, “This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Something about the simple truth of those words sets the tone for me. Christy often keeps a memory verse taped to her mirror in the bathroom, so that the first thing she sees and hears is from God. What’s a small thing you could do to invite the presence and power of God into your life during this season?

Your servant,

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