Are you seeking God? Do you have questions about your relationship to him? If you are sincerely interested in knowing God, the following articles were written with you in mind. Please read them carefully. If you have a Bible, we encourage you to look up the references cited in the articles. These texts bear authoritative witness to God's free gift of spiritual life in Christ.

1. Safe God?
2. Why Jesus?
3. Resurrection: The Confidence Behind Our Message of Forgiveness
4. Thanksgiving
5. Bored with Church

"Who said anything about safe?"

Have you ever been reading and had a line jump off the page, grab you by the nose hairs, and refuse to let go until your body tingles, and your eyes water, with its meaning? That was my experience when I first read Mr. Beaver's classic retort to Susan in C. S. Lewis' fictional series, Chronicles of Narnia (Book 2: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, p., 86 in my copy).

In this classic tale - verbally shallow enough for children to wade in, philosophically deep enough for adults to drown in - Lewis creates the make-believe world of Narnia. In this mythical land, people and animals converse with one another, and Lewis chooses to cast a great lion named, Aslan, as the Christ figure.

A group of English children find themselves in Narnia, seated at a kitchen table, talking with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. Word has it that Aslan has recently arrived on a rare visit to Narnia and that arrangements have been made for the children to meet the "Lord of all the wood" (Mr. Beaver's description). Young Susan, in particular, is hesitant about meeting a lion. She queries:

"Is he quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking they're either braver than most or else just silly."

"Then he isn"t safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

Not safe; but good! In this elementary dialogue, Lewis crystallizes (in the mouth of Mr. Beaver) the essential balance of a biblical conception of God and his Son, Jesus Christ.

I say "biblical" purposefully. As a pastor, I talk to people about God for a living. In order to know what I'm talking about I read the Bible diligently - cover to cover - because in this book we find God's revelation. By "revelation" I do not mean that the Bible merely gives unique insight into life, which it certainly does. What I mean is that the Bible reveals truth about God and life we could never discover on our own, but which we absolutely must know nonetheless. And as I read the Bible, the reality that is impossible to ignore is that God is, in fact, not safe.

There are pages upon pages of the Bible which reveal that God is a God of judgment, punishment, and discipline. He is quite capable of intense, holy anger, and he means for us to be frightened by his severity (read Genesis 6:5-7; Numbers 25:1-9; Acts 5:1-11; Revelation 19:11-21; 21:8, et al.).

Further, the Bible reveals that following Christ means to let go of life as we know it and to embrace death to self (Luke 9:23,24; Colossians 3:5-10). That doesn't sound very safe!

That God is not safe is a truth few seem willing to consider, however. This is sad, and not a little dangerous. Certainly, none of us fancies a case of the knocking knees, as Mrs. Beaver put it. But we miss something very valuable when we twist our image of God into one that is innocuously safe. As God's Word makes it so plain, it is this dread fear of God that provides the necessary balance for us to perceive just how wonderful the counterbalancing idea of God's goodness really is. Indeed, this unsafe God is good!

The fearful part is that God is a holy God who judges sinners. The counter-balance to the equation is that this holy God is also good. In fact, the very reason Christ came to earth was not that he might judge us (venting his just anger), but that he might forgive and rescue us from our sin (demonstrating his immense love; John 3:17).

Jesus even took the just judgment of God against our sin upon himself and personally paid the penalty for that sin which was physical death in separation from the Father (1 Peter 2:24,25). Because he is perfectly just and entirely sinless, God could either damn us all, or die himself. He chose the latter, in the person of the Son.

Through personal abandonment of self into a relationship of trust in this divine work of love in our behalf, we can (through divine enabling) escape the wrath of God and enjoy the splendors of his goodness in heaven (Romans 8:1-4, 18). For a holy God of absolute purity and perfection to make such a rescue available to sinners was good of him. Or, maybe I should say, was good in him!

You may remember the days when our nation's media sources were obsessed with the dawn of the new millennium. It was difficult to pick up a newspaper, thumb through a magazine, or watch a thoughtful program on television at that time without encountering a list of the most influential people of the past year (1999), decade (1990's), century (twentieth), or millennium (second). The lists of names, pigeon-holed into one inventive category after another, seemed endless.

In the midst of this barrage, I was struck with Time magazine's nomination for pivotal figure of the past millennium - Jesus of Nazareth (Time, December 6, 1999). Time views itself as an "enlightened" journal with wide circulation and is certainly innocent of any and all charges of pandering to religious zealots. So I was a little surprised by its acknowledgement of the significance of Jesus - surprised at such candor from a publication that so studiously ignores Christ's significance in the lion's-share of its endeavors. Be that as it may, I believe Time was right to recognize that no single individual has so influenced our world in the past millennium (make that two) as Jesus Christ.

Some, of course, still insist that Jesus never lived. They acknowledge the obvious influence of myths about Jesus, but insist that Jesus was an imaginary figure. This notion still finds a rare proponent now and then, although it is always promoted with a suspiciously cavalier disregard for historical facts. Substantial evidence gleaned from ancient Jewish, pagan, and Christian sources, serves unimpeachable notice that Jesus lived. For that matter, what greater proof of one's influence than the dogged lengths to which your detractors will go to prove that you never existed!

Others dismiss Jesus' significance by viewing him in light of the failures of his more notorious followers. Admittedly, it is not difficult to find people throughout history who have claimed to follow Jesus while failing miserably to honor his teachings. But the inherent danger in dismissing such followers (which ought to be done) is that one's image of Jesus can be easily distorted in the process (which is a tragic blunder).

Suffice it to say, every analysis of Jesus' followers must be tempered by this maxim: any teacher whose followers walk in strict, universal conformity to all of his teachings either does not have much to say, or is an immoral and tyrannical dictator. Jesus taught the truth (John 14:6) and it is not he who is judged by the response of his hearers, but his hearers who are judged by their response to his teachings.

Time commendably preserved its judgment of Jesus from these two errors (i.e., Jesus never lived and the crimes of self-acclaimed Christians through the centuries trump Jesus' influence). In consequence, Time's editors honestly acknowledged the tremendous influence Jesus has exerted on our world.

This does not, of course, indicate that the editors of Time acknowledge the claims of Jesus. Rather, the "enlightened class" typically dismisses such claims by maintaining they are nothing more than an inventive recasting of Jesus' teachings by his over-zealous followers. It is one thing, then, to acknowledge Jesus' influence (thank you Time); it is quite another to embrace Jesus as Lord and worthy of all honor and glory.

What compels some to move past an honest acknowledgment of Jesus' influence and to worship him? Consider three reasons - the first two, objective; the third (happily), subjective.

First, prophesy. Jesus fulfilled numerous prophetic statements made about him centuries before he was born. These prophecies were made by a number of individuals, many of whom were separated from one another by several centuries, thus precluding any coordinated deception.

They prophesied, for instance, that Messiah would be born to a virgin (Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:18-25), in the city of Bethlehem (Micah 5:2; Matthew 2:1-6), of the lineage of Judah's King David (Genesis 49:10; Isaiah 9:6-7; Matthew 1:1-17). The prophet, Daniel, pinpointed the very day Messiah would present himself as king and the specific mode of transportation he would employ to ride into Jerusalem on that day (Daniel 9:24-25; Isaiah 62:11; Matthew 21:1-11). Jesus himself prophesied that he would die a violent death on a stake and rise from the dead three days later (Matthew 16:21-28; 20:17-19). Jesus fulfilled all of these prophesies (and others like them) with stunning accuracy.

Second, resurrection. Historically speaking, there is one fundamental reason why I am a Christian: Jesus Christ rose from the dead. If this event is a grand hoax, I am without hope and without God (1 Corinthians 15:12-19). But there is solid evidence that Jesus did conquer death. Scripture reveals it (Luke 23:50-24:43; Acts 10:34-43). The historical record supports it. Investigative research confirms it.

The mid-nineteenth to early twentieth century Jewish scholar, Simon Greenleaf, was a renowned authority in jurisprudence at Harvard Law School. Greenleaf was known for repeatedly reminding his students to never decide a case until they had considered all the evidence.

In the course of a lecture one day, Greenleaf casually dismissed the resurrection of Christ as a myth. He was embarrassed when one of his students turned the professor's famous dictum back upon him, objecting: "But professor, have you considered all the evidence?" Greenleaf left the classroom that day determined to prove the resurrection of Jesus a hoax.

Applying his considerable abilities to a careful analysis of all the evidence, Greenleaf was shocked with his findings. He was forced to accept the resurrection of Jesus as historical. Eventually, he embraced Jesus as his risen Savior (cf. Simon Greenleaf, The Testimony of the Evangelists Examined by the Rules of Evidence Administered in Courts of Justice, 1874).

The resurrection of Jesus from the dead not only emboldened his first followers, it formed the central tenet of their preaching (Acts 2:22-32; 3:12-15; 4:8-10; 10:34-43). Often paying with their lives, the first Christians fearlessly proclaimed the resurrection of Jesus until their message dramatically stirred the Roman world (Acts 17:1-8; 19:10). It is a message which continues to transform lives today.

Third, personal transformation and joy. I am less a convert to the teachings of Jesus, and more a new creation in spiritual union with the risen Christ (Galatians 2:20; 2 Corinthians 5:17). I know not how else to explain what has happened in my own soul. I was once dead to spiritual interest and understanding and incapable of living righteously. But God acted upon me and opened my eyes to his truth and is patiently transforming me. And it all started with a realization that Christ is who he claimed to be and did what he claimed to do.

And this spiritual life I have experienced is radically transforming people all over the world. With regularity I read the reports from every continent. I see it in people's eyes. I witness it in our church. People once controlled by sin are unmistakably freed of its tyranny. And it all starts when they simply place their full confidence in a simple message: Jesus died to provide forgiveness of sin to those who trust in his redemptive work, and he rose from the dead to give life to his people (1 Corinthians 15:1-6).

Wow, I can't wait for Easter! Then again, I don't have to. A soul-feast is served daily. Thank You, Jesus!

On a recent trip to the East coast, my wife and I enjoyed a lively conversation with a young mother. Seated next to us on a crowded flight, she educated us on life as a New England potato and beef farmer. We found the conversation fascinating, laced as it was with local color and spiced with some of the more gruesome details of cattle management.

In course of time, she inquired concerning my occupation. I told her I was a pastor. That seemed to derail our conversation, but in the ensuing silence she was actually switching tracks from farming to spiritual realities. She was a meat-and-potatoes kind of woman in more ways than one - decorative parsley did not find a place on her conversational plate. And so, without notice, she jumped full length into a most difficult of topics.

"So, who is my husband in God's eyes?" she inquired earnestly. It seems that some spiritual shepherds to whom she had appealed gave counsel that her second husband was her real husband. Others had suggested that God saw her as married to her first husband. "In God"s eyes, am I married to my second husband, or am I committing adultery with him?" she asked pointedly.

I've never met an honest divorcee who hasn't dealt with guilt - no matter the circumstances contributing to the divorce - particularly when that individual has some sense of God's will regarding marriage (Genesis 2:18-25; Mark 10:2-12 etc.). Standing in the beacon of God's Word, you do not have to live long, or possess an overly active conscience, to realize you fall short of God's standard (Romans 3:10-23). And divorced or not, if you haven't gotten a sense of your sin and shortcomings before marriage, you should get one pretty soon after your wedding day. Marriage has a way of accentuating not only what we do best, but also where we fall shortest of God's standard (Ephesians 4:25-32; 5:22-33; John 4:13-20). And thus it was with the woman seated next to me.

Sometimes the best response to a question is to question the legitimacy of the question. Realizing that our new acquaintance's inquiry concerning divorce was only symptomatic, I explained that the root issue is not so much a matter of what God happens to think about this or that particular sin or circumstance. The more essential issue is that God is an absolutely pure, holy, and just God. By virtue of his very nature, he cannot tolerate or overlook any moral shortcoming on our part (Romans 1:18; Revelation 1:12-18; 20:11-15).

"How would you feel if a young child you loved was playing in her yard and a man walked into the yard and raped and murdered her before your very eyes? And how would you then feel if you sat at that man's trial and a judge simply excused the perpetrator's actions? You would condemn that judge as unjust. You would cry foul at such a miscarriage of justice, and so you should."

"Well, God is not that kind of judge. He is a just judge. He judges with absolute purity and with complete wisdom, meaning he knows every sin I have ever committed and demands just penalty for every violation of his will. He not only judges the murderer and rapist, but pile together every sin committed by every human being throughout all of time and realize that God does not dismiss, but comes down hard on all of it. He is a just judge."

Having established that point, it was then my privilege to explain that there is a strange and loving twist at this juncture. Two thousand years ago, God poured out his holy wrath against sin upon the head of his Son, Jesus Christ. In absolute, unimpeachable justice, God judged human sin by placing it on Christ and sacrificing his Son's life as punishment (1 Peter 2:24; Romans 3:21-26). In unfathomable love, God then graciously washes away the sins of those who place their faith in Christ's death in their place (Ephesians 2:7-9; Hebrews 10:11-14).

How can we know that such a message of forgiveness in Christ is real? How can I know God accepted Christ's death in my place? How can such ideas be proclaimed with confidence to a total stranger? There is only one answer: Jesus Christ rose from the dead! Jesus beat death, the final penalty for sinners (Acts 2:22-32; 3:12-15; 4:8-10; 10:34-41; Romans 5:12; 6:23).

Without the resurrection of Christ, all talk of forgiveness of sin is wishful thinking and absolutely vain (1 Corinthians 15:12-19). But history records what the Bible declares: a Jew living 2,000 years ago conquered the grave, thereby proving he had secured forgiveness of sin from a holy God.

This is the triumphant meaning of Easter and the glorious message genuine believers can proclaim with absolute confidence to a needy world. Indeed, the offer of forgiven sin is no myth but a confident assurance - and there's an empty grave to prove it!

In post-modern America, Thanksgiving Day has become something of an enigma. I'm a bit mystified by the logical inconsistency of slotting a national day for thanksgiving on the calendar of a nation wherein the state is presumably duty-bound to avoid any promotion of religion. Not to worry, Thanksgiving Day is quite secure on the annual slate of holidays, for at least two reasons.

First, establish an official holiday on which Americans are released from the obligations of work and school, can stuff themselves full with rich, succulent food, and can watch helmeted warriors traverse the gridiron all afternoon, and you have a holiday that is set in cement! The promotion of Thanksgiving Day is changing, no doubt. Quaint displays of praying Pilgrims, for instance, have been entirely elbowed out by commercial promotions of the next (and more consumer-friendly) major holiday on our calendar. Notwithstanding, Thanksgiving Day is just too good to cancel - despite the philosophical conundrums it generates.

There is a second reason this enigmatic holiday continues to survive the assault of post-modernism. In a regrettable irony, we have kept the food, and the football, and the day-off parts, while eviscerating the thanksgiving aspect of this day. How can a national government, vouchsafing never to promote anything remotely religious, insist on promoting a day for thanksgiving? We have solved the dilemma by learning to express thanks in nebulous terms. As applicable, we express thanks for families and friends, houses and jobs, health and opportunity, and for any number of other earthly joys. But curiously enough, we don't thank anyone in particular for these blessings.

It is axiomatic that thanksgiving must be directed to someone. Most of us are thankful on Thanksgiving Day, to be sure, but to whom do you express your thanks? Turning to the Bible of the Pilgrims, we find in the book of Acts (17:24-28) these words: "The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth . . . . And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. . . . For in him we live and move and have our being (NIV)."

The Bible teaches that God is your Creator and that he is also your Benefactor -the source of every good thing in your life. "Every good gift, and every perfect gift" writes James (1:17), "is from above, and comes down from the Father . . . (NKJV)." This means that whoever you are, you can, and should, express thanks to God. The book of Romans declares that a sure sign of moral degradation is an unthankful spirit toward our Creator (1:21). Such ingrates, the next verse declares, characteristically assert that they are wise, when in fact, they are moral fools (1:22). Simply put, thanksgiving cannot be nebulous, it has to be expressed to a benefactor, the true benefactor. And that is exactly what our Creator is - the true Benefactor of us all (Acts 17:28).

Allow me to elucidate the point. You may find yourself in awe of an architect who designs magnificent homes. But what if that architect said: "Let there be a house," and poof, a luxurious, fully furnished, house appeared before your very eyes? I'll tell you this much, you wouldn't mess with that house. You'd know it belonged exclusively to that architect and you'd make no claim whatsoever to it. And if that same architect decided to give that house to you, you would not fail to shower him with appropriate expressions of praise and thanks.

In like manner God created the heavens and the earth by the word of his mouth (Genesis chapter 1). And in his grace, he permits you to enjoy aspects of that creation every day of your life. Thank him. Whoever you are, give thanks to him because "he causes the sun to shine on the just and the unjust" (Matthew 5:45).

And speaking of the just, let me pause to say that although everyone can, and should, thank God for his common gifts, there is a special gift from the Creator that transforms thanksgiving from a mere moral necessity into an exquisite pleasure. God's greatest gift is the gift of himself.

On a Roman cross nearly 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ, God's sinless Son, bore the sins of the world and paid the penalty the Father exacted for those sins - death. When Jesus rose from the dead, he made his victory over death available to sinners. Accordingly, God promises to cancel the debt of sin for anyone who places his or her full trust in Christ's work as the sinner's substitute. When such faith is placed in Christ's death and resurrection, Christ's righteous standing is imputed to the sinner's account. God can do that justly, because he paid the penalty himself. The sinner can receive this gift freely, through faith alone, because the price for sin has been fully and completely paid by Jesus (Romans chapters 1-5).

When such an awesome gift is received in simple faith, one's heart is filled with joy and longs to express thanksgiving. Not thanksgiving in nebulous terms, and not thanksgiving as an obligation, but thanksgiving in specific terms - addressed joyfully and willingly to the true Benefactor. When God washes away your sins in this way, every day is a day of thanksgiving - in a very specific and most fulfilling sense of the word.

In the past two decades, a broad swath of Christendom has undergone a radical transformation in the way church services are conducted. Somewhere in the late 1970's or early 80's, it would seem, word leaked out that a most sinister disease was eating away at the foundations of the Church. Self appointed ecclesiastical physicians arose to sound the warning sirens. With impassioned concern they assured us that nothing less than radical measures had to be taken immediately and that nothing less than the survival of the church was at stake.

The malignant scourge that threatened the Church, we were told, was boredom. North Americans, in particular, were becoming scandalously bored with church, and any local assembly that ignored the warning signs of this advancing disease, or refused to resist it, was destined to wither and die.

So with straight faced earnestness, the experts prescribed the healing balm. "Make church fun and relevant to all" was the new mantra. One expert counseled me in his book that my sermons should be limited to twenty minutes, peppered with warm, affirming stories, and free of "heavy theology." Church music needed to be "updated" so that it immediately appealed to the visitor and skits and movie clips, you must understand, would communicate truth much more effectively than preaching. (And be sure to go light on that "truth" part!).

Living in an age of information in which the sound bite is the trade language, living in an entertainment rich world of which fun and recreation are the warp and woof, there was only one hope for the Church's survival: eliminate boredom at any cost. Like an immoral affair, the partnership between church and boredom simply had to end, immediately.

This counsel from the "boredom-killers" had a thread of truth woven into it. Many churches can be justifiably criticized for putting people to sleep. Some have rendered boredom an art form. Bereft of spiritual vitality, sedated by dead ritual, and shackled by meaningless traditions, many churches have proven utterly bankrupt of all interest to even the most enthusiastic visitor. In this sense, the warning sirens should be heeded.

But pull that single thread from the message of the "boredom killers" and the fabric unravels. Their message is fatally flawed on numerous counts, but to focus here on just one deficiency, it unconscionably drops the heavy load of responsibility for boredom at the feet of the local church while entirely ignoring the role of individuals in the equation. Churches are chided for their bad performance while individuals are viewed as little more than morally neutral responders to group stimuli.

The error in this approach is that a church attender's relationship with God is viewed as inconsequential to the equation, while at the same time his or her opinion about what should happen in a church service is given near biblical authority.

Perhaps two vignettes may open a window to a more balanced approach. Periodically, children from the neighborhood will wander into my church office to say hello. The only reason I can assign for young children visiting a middle-aged man working at a desk in the middle of the day is a profound case of boredom. Busy about my work, I'm not usually the greatest company, but now and then I stop to chat.

On one such day, a young boy found me typing out the words to Charles Wesley's great hymn, "O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing." My young visitor inquired as to my intentions. I explained the song would be sung in our church on Sunday.

I read the words to him: "O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer's praise, the glories of my God and King, the triumphs of his grace." He assured me he had no idea what those words meant or why anyone would find such an old hymn particularly interesting. He hated church and to suffer through such a song would, for him, add new meaning to the word "boring." I took up the challenge and questioned him, basically as follows.

"What would happen," I queried, "if you went to a Twins game - not just any Twins game but the seventh game of the World Series. The game is tied in the bottom of the ninth. With two outs, two strikes, and no one on base, your favorite Twins player hits a towering home run and wins the series! Would you cheer? The roar of the crowd would be deafening, yet you would add your voice to the thousands of fans screaming at the top of their lungs. And tell me, when you got home that night, would you tell anyone about your experience? Of course you would. You couldn't wait to tell your friends all about the game."

I continued: "That's kind of why I want to sing "O For a Thousand Tongues" in church on Sunday. One day, Jesus washed my sins away and made me his child. He redeemed me, rescuing me from hell and giving me a home in heaven. And there are times I wish I had a thousand tongues to sing praises to such an awesome Savior! I don't find this song boring because it helps me express my heart's passion and love for God."

My speech failed to persuade my young friend who looked at me as if I had been speaking Latin for the last few minutes. Come to think of it, perhaps his expression mirrored that of many church visitors during the singing of Wesley's great hymn - a look of confusion that betrays an inability to "relate" to such an outdated mode of expression.

I care not to address the wisdom of retaining or discarding old hymns. My point is simply this: does not the responsibility for boredom with a church service rest, to a significant degree, on the shoulders of the worshiper? Should a hymn, which has endured the test of time, be stripped away from God's people merely because it does not appeal to the ear of individuals who do not love God?

After the brief exchange mentioned above, my young visitor dropped in again, this time with a friend. While pecking away at my keyboard, I asked the friend if he ever thought of coming to church. Absolutely not, I was assured in no uncertain terms. Pressed to give a reason, he dropped what he apparently fancied the logical equivalent of an atomic bomb on my solicitation. "Church is boring," he announced with an air of finality, as if his charge trumped all argumentation.

Knowing a little of the boy's circumstances, I asked if he thought visiting his mother was boring. Did it bore him to spend time with her? Did it bore him when she talked to him, made him a meal, or wrote him a letter? "No way," he assured me. He loved spending time with his mom and was somewhat offended that I would suggest otherwise.

"Here then is your problem with church," I said. "Why does relating to your mother not bore you? Because you know her and you love her and so you get excited about being with her. Why do you find church boring? Because you do not have a relationship with God. You do not love him and so you find talking about him and to him rather boring."

His flippant demeanor changed to one of contemplation and I assured him God was interested in changing his state of affairs. It crossed my mind that I needed to pray for this boy's salvation. It never crossed my mind that we should design our church services to his liking. What does someone who does not know God know about worshiping God? What does someone who does not think God's thoughts during the week know about what makes for a good sermon on Sunday?

In fact, I'm not at all convinced church services are ideal opportunities for unbelievers to seek God. Church services are a time when people who already have a relationship with God come to worship him in community and to deepen their walk with him (Acts 5:13-14). Might not such services be expected to "bore" people who do not enjoy a vibrant relationship with God?

Rather than entertaining unbelievers in the church and nudging them ever so pleasantly to salvation, the church should be spiritually strengthened in its meetings to go out from the assembly and to reach people on their own turf (Acts 2:47; 5:28). Once redeemed by Christ, new believers are equipped to attend church with a newfound capacity to appreciate distinctively Christian worship.

If I wanted to personally meet one of the Minnesota Vikings, I would not go to a game where he is on display in front of thousands of fans. I might meet him there, but I'd have a much better chance of meeting him if I could find someone who already knew him and was willing to introduce me to him. And if I met him, and came to know him as a close friend, how much more interesting Vikings games would become for me, even those games that others found boring.

In like manner, those seeking God should seek out someone who knows him and ask for an introduction (1 Peter 3:15; John 4:1ff). And once people are introduced to the Savior, and come to know him intimately, boring church services have a way of being transformed into exciting encounters with the living Lord of heaven and earth.

This is especially true when those services are designed by passionate believers, for passionate believers. In my experience, such worship services prove far more God exalting than those marketed by the spiritually alive for consumption by the spiritually dead.