Five - or possibly six - more tips for going to church with your family

Did you see yesterday's link to Christine Jensen’s Growing faith: Ten tips for going to church with your family? It’s such an excellent little post, it sparked a few reflections of my own. (I’d also like to second her point about letting kids see you enjoying church.)

Here they are, five six more tips for going to church with your family.

1. Choose a church where people love and pray for your kids.
This is more important than big Sunday Schools and fancy youth groups! Go to a place where people welcome your children into the church family; where adults make time to talk with children; where your kids will have big brothers and sisters in the faith. (But don’t just choose a church because it serves you and your family: choose a place your family can serve.)

2. Ask trusted older Christians to mentor your kids.
Ask a young woman to meet with your daughter, or a young man to mentor your son. Involve young adults in teaching Sunday School: it’s great training for them, and kids love it. Encourage children to grow strong relationships with the elderly. Make a single friend part of your family, and invite them to be a special person in your kids’ lives.

3. Get your kids involved in serving others.
We’re at church to serve. Our kids are too.¹  Involve them in welcoming people at the door and teaching younger kids in Sunday School. Cook meals together for someone who’s sick. Take your kids with you when you visit those in need. Teach teenagers how to follow up a new Christian and lead a Bible study.

4. Encourage kids to invite friends to church
We’re also at church – and in this world! – to share our faith. This is no different for kids. Encourage children to ask their friends to church: not just to kids’ club, holiday programs or youth group, but also to Sunday meetings. This is a great way to make church fun for kids too.

5. Invite church people into your home
Ask people over for a meal. Host a Bible study. Involve kids in setting up and serving, and don’t make them sit at a separate table. Let them stay up and hang out with the grown-ups for a while. Invite children and teens into your conversations. This helps kids get to know people from church and feel comfortable with them.

6. Oh, and let your kids doodle through the sermon if it helps them concentrate.
Seriously. You might be surprised one day when the doodles turn into sermon notes.

Do you have any other suggestions for going to church with your family?


1.John Nielson suggests that equipping kids and teens for ministry is key to helping them stay in church when they’re older: : Why youth stay in church when they grow up. ↩


This post first appeared today at The Briefing.

Wanted: more church invaders

A few years ago, our family of six left a congregation full of parents with young children, and joined a church made up mostly of university students.1 This wasn’t an ideological statement on our part: it was simply because my husband works in university ministry, and that’s where we needed to be at the time. But it’s made me aware of some of the benefits and costs of going to church with people from a different age and stage from your own.

It’s easy to spend your entire life going to church with people just like you. Many of us start out in our parent’s church: a place, perhaps, with lots of other kids and teenagers. We graduate to a university church (that’s what my husband and I did), to a worker’s service, to a family service (ditto), to a congregation full of empty-nesters and, finally, retirees. It’s not so simple for those who are single, childless, or divorced; but that’s how it works a lot of the time. Even churches with mixed-age congregations find they tend to become homogeneous: for example, families with young children often attend church in the morning, while young adults go in the evening.2

Then there are the ‘church invaders’, people who make a deliberate decision to go to church with people who aren’t like them. I’ve met some of them: an energetic lady in her 60s who goes along to the youth service so she can show an interest in young people. A woman in her early 20s who attends a church where she’s the only person under 40, because she believes older and younger Christians need each other. A childless woman great at relating to kids, who gives her time to reaching out to children and their parents. A couple with older children who feel a little out of place in a congregation full of younger families, but who go to provide encouragement, support and wisdom.

So what is it like, crossing the frontiers? I won’t deny that I found it hard at first, going to a university church. I worried about my children growing up without lots of Christian kids their own age. I worried that no-one would want to talk to me - after all, what 20-year-old wants to hang out with a 40-something woman surrounded by noisy children? My instinct was to retreat to the back of the church, serve supper, feed my kids, and talk to the few women my age: to leave the boundaries between age groups uncrossed and unchallenged.

I’d love to claim some great godliness that helped me overcome this self-absorption, but I can’t. What happened was that, one memorable morning, I prayed about my attitude to church, and God’s Spirit convicted me that I was acting like a spoiled child: self-centred, self-conscious, self-pitying. Too wrapped up in myself to love those around me. Too concerned about what people thought of me to be concerned about them. Too obsessed with my own needs to consider the needs of others. I wept, repented, and asked for God’s help to start again.

In God’s very good timing – how often he brings us to the end of ourselves before he brings about a change in our circumstances! – the women in our church got together the following week. Older, younger, student, graduate, mother, teenager: we laughed and ate and swapped our stories. We met again, and talked about how we could better encourage each other. We met again, read Titus 2:3-5, and saw how God wants older and younger women to be involved in each other’s lives. Soon, I’ll start meeting regularly with two younger women to read the Bible and pray. It’s no coincidence that, at the very point I stopped worrying about whether I belonged, I felt a sense of belonging.

I’m beginning to see how important it is that I’m here, right now, in this church, being encouraged by and encouraging these particular women. In a few years time, when they get married and have kids, or wonder if they’ll stay single, or start out in work and ministry, I hope I’ll be beside them, helping them find the way into mature Christian womanhood. I look back to when I was a student going to a university church, and I’m deeply grateful to the older single people, couples and families who came along, modelled the Christian life for us, and taught and trained us in godliness. There’s a richness of encouragement that happens between Christians of different ages and stages that’s beautiful to see.

What about our kids? Is it fair to them, going to a church with only a few other children and teenagers?3 Our two younger boys are loved and cared for by a bunch of enthusiastic young people who enjoy having them around, and who are learning to lead as they teach them in Sunday School. Our older son enjoys hanging out with the godly young men who surround him. Our teenage daughter is excited about being mentored by a lovely young Christian woman. Our marriage and family are a lived-out, messy, week-by-week example for many who never experienced a Christian family growing up. In the end, it’s not the patterns of church that matter to us and our children: what matters is that the gospel is taught, and they are loved and prayed for by the members of our church family.

Not everyone is built to be a church invader. We know many Christians – single workers, couples with young children, retirees – who do their best ministry loving and serving people in a similar situation to their own. We’ve advised others, who find it hard to get to church at all, to go to a church that’s designed for their needs. But even if you don’t invade a church, do invade people’s lives. Be aware of the unseen boundaries that cross churches: old and young, married and single, privileged and disadvantaged, we’re all part of the body of Christ (Gal 3:28; Col 3:11). Think about who might feel in the minority, even if they hide it well. Invest time in younger Christians, and seek out the wisdom of older Christians. Invite people who are different from you into your life.

But perhaps you are built to be a church invader. Maybe you’re an older person who’s good at relating to young people, a member of a family who would like to reach out to single workers, or a young person who’s never seen a Christian marriage in action. If that’s the case, why not choose a church where you don’t naturally belong? Why not choose a church, not because it meets your needs, but because it needs you? Why not make a home for others in a place that feels far from home? Why not become a church invader? We’d love to have you along!


1. Actually, there were a couple of moves along the way, but I’m simplifying the story for the sake of clarity. ↩
2. I don’t want to comment on which approach to church is best: homogeneous or heterogeneous. I think there are benefits to both approaches. ↩
3. I’m often questioned about this. I was recently helped by an alternate point of view, offered by Kathy Keller in Why the city is a wonderful place to raise children. ↩


This post was first published at The Briefing today.

image is by The Arches from flickr

what church and place should I raise my kids in?

How do you choose a church and place to raise your children? There was an interesting discussion on my Facebook wall about this quote, which came from an article about the benefits of raising kids in urban areas:

I have often said that the best thing you can do for your teenage children is not to have them in a great big youth group (of other teens as clueless and confused as themselves), but to have lots of young adult, cool, ardently believing friends. - Kathy Keller Why the city is a wonderful place to raise children

Here's what people said (with names removed). Please add your thoughts to the discussion.

M said, "Thanks for drawing my attention to this post. Encouraging at SO many levels."

T said, "Lots of cool, young adults the best thing you can do for your kids? As someone who has spent the majority of his ministry ministering to 'cool, young adults' - even the 'ardently believing' kind - and raised three kids to near adulthood...well...I'm not so sure Jean."

I said, "Yes, it probably depends on the 'cool, young adults'!! I think she's got a point, though. There's a prevalent myth in Christian circles that your kids won't turn out as Christian adults if they don't hang around with lots of Christian teens when they're teens."

T replied, "Both models, when offered up as panaceas, are myths. Give me a Christian community that loves, accepts and prays for my kids. Couldn't care less how young, cool or urban they are. The bigger issue is the flattering of certain demographics. Don't know about Australia but the American evangelical world is swimming in that right now."

M said, "I'm loving this conversation. Please keep talking! I think 'Give me a Christian community that loves, accepts and prays for my kids' is probably key here. But I think Kathy Keller provides a good corrective to 'Gospel + youth group = children growing up to be Christian adults.' But as you say, T, we need to make sure we don't just put something else in the Gospel + _________ blank space."

I said, "In Australia, it's the youth group paradigm that I hear all the time, and that's what caught my eye about what Kathy said - that, just possibly, there might be other ways to raise Christian kids. But I think you're right: what matters is that it's a 'Christian community that loves, accepts and prays for my kids', whatever the demographic. I find that a huge relief, because I've been told over and over that what matters is that our kids go to a family church with a big youth group (or else...).

"And on the suburban vs. urban issue - yes, again I agree; but once again, what Kathy is doing is countering a paradigm I'm all too familiar with: 'You have to bring up your kids in a nice suburb and send them to nice schools (or else...)'. Again, good to hear someone saying you can actually make Christian parenting work in a different kind of environment! Our suburb is neither 'urban' nor 'nice', but we are teaching and training our kids to live for Jesus in this place - and, I hope, in any place they may live in years to come."

L said, "Don't they see sin in the backwaters of Melbourne Suburbia? I just have to walk out of my front door to see selfishness, envy, lust and lawlessness: empty bourbon and coke cans strewn on my nature strip, rude neighbours, speeding, reckless cars on the way to and from work. I can go to church in my own suburb if I want to see adultery, unfaithfulness, greed, gossip and slander. Why waste petrol? I'm just sayin'."

I said, "Yeah, true! Or country Victoria will do it for you nicely as well. Although the 'sin' and the results of it in broken lives are more obvious in some areas than others, and Christian parents tend to avoid these places and live in the 'nice' suburbs. And I posted it 'cos I liked the bit about youth group..."

S said, "Jean, I would love to have the pros & con conversation about youth group. I am not convinced another program is going to disciple, encourage and challenge my kids. The stats of kids who are still Christians post youth group days is pretty discouraging."

JA said, "Well, one of my kids' friends from school became a Christian last night at a youth group thing. I'm happy they go to youth group and the young adults who lead are great role models."

G said, "What sort of youth group would they have had in Thessalonica? If they are so important, why aren't they mentioned more in the Pauline epistles or, really, anywhere? You could maybe stretch 1 Cor 15:33 to talk about peer group pressure. Parenting, however, gets spoken of a lot."

I said, "G, It occurs to me that, even though youth groups aren't mentioned in the Bible, neither are Bible studies or even church 'services' in the modern sense. What you say is a helpful corrective. But it doesn't mean that we can't create structures to teach and encourage God's people, including youth groups: just that they're not essential and shouldn't be treated as such.

"S and JA, I'm sure it can work out well for kids either way. I went to a very good church with few young people and a very bad youth group - you can guess which one helped me! But there are good youth groups out there and I'm more than happy for my kids to go. My problem is when a church with a certain demographic is made to seem essential to raising Christian kids - which it often is in pointed questions I'm asked about the church we take our family to."

G said, "Tangential I know, but so are many of the questions around raising kids as Christians, including whether the location is urban or not."

I said, "I gets lots of those kinds of pointed questions too *sigh*."

G said, "Shame."

And V said - in perhaps the most helpful comment of all -

What is a 'family church'? We wouldn't say a married couple who cannot have children are less family for the absence of children. Churches can vary greatly in their demographics, but it is relationship with Christ that makes the family.

I've never attended youth group, having become a Christian at 18 in a small church only two other young adults. As a new Christian, I was in a bible study with the spectrum of ages. I was taught, accepted and prayed for (not always perfectly). I have a friend who came to the church and to know Jesus through an invitation to largish youth group as a young teen. Both are acts of God's sovereign grace, the same sovereign grace that I pray is/will bring my children to know Jesus. How it will look in terms of place, people circumstance I don't know.

As a parent, I do have a responsibility and desire to make wise decisions by my children, but I suspect that decisions concerning our choice of church, school and neighbourhood can loom larger than they really are. The harder things I find are daily issues of living my life in relationship with Christ before my children, training, commitment to and love for other believers etc...

Continue the conversation here.

image is by AllStarsYouth at flickr

big M Ministry and little s service

The word ‘ministry’ just means ‘service’.¹ It's a fact I already knew, and perhaps one you know too; but earlier this year I came to see its implications.

I was walking along, praying about my Ministry. I was praying for the wisdom to know which Ministry to do, how much energy to put into certain Ministries, and when to stop one Ministry so I would have more energy for other Ministries. Suddenly, like a bolt to my brain from the rather grey sky (it was the fading end of a Melbourne winter), came the word ‘service’.

Ah. Service. It cuts out the middle-man, doesn't it? Instead of Me, Ministry, and You, there's just Me and You—and between us, love—a love which is more interested in your needs than in my grand plans for my Ministry.

When I think in terms of Ministry—with a capital M—here's what happens.

• I choose certain Ministries because they further my Gifts, my Visions, my Goals, my Passions, and my (although I don't use this word, of course) Ambitions.
• I choose my church because it fits my Ministry Plans.
• I regard people as interruptions; after all, I'm reserving my energy for my Ministry and for any Ministry Opportunities I may receive.
• I plan my Ministry with the precision of an American missile strike, constantly question whether I'm doing the right Ministry, and massage events so I'll be offered the Ministry I deserve want think is best.
• I worry about my Ministry: how many people are receiving it, whether it's growing, what its future will be, and how I'll cope if things fall apart.
• I'm filled with enthusiasm for exciting new Ministries—enthusiasm that fades as they become more familiar, more tiring and less interesting.
• I'm filled with exhaustion when it comes to old Ministries, and do them with dogged, grumbling perseverance (I'm good at dogged, grumbling perseverance) until I burn out and give up.

When I think in terms of service—with a small s—here's what happens.

• I'm set free from anxiety about my Gifts, my Visions, my Goals, my Passions, and whether I'll ever get a chance to use, pursue, achieve or fulfil them.
• I'm set free to look around my church and community, see what needs to be done, and do it, even when it doesn't play to my strengths, no-one ever sees me doing it, and I don't want to do it much anyway.
• I'm set free to serve you in love, right now, according to your needs, even if I'm not gifted to do what you need.
• I'm set free from worry about numbers, growth, popularity and success, for I remember that even if only two are gathered around God's word, his Spirit is at work in us.
• I'm set free to hold my plans for the future with an open hand, for it's God's plans which matter, not mine.
• I'm set free from having to pursue all my interests and use all my abilities (for God is incredibly profligate with his gifts), and can just get on with furthering God's kingdom.
• I'm set free to rest, for it's God's kingdom that's being built, not mine, and he hasn't advertised recently for another King or Saviour.
• I'm set free to follow the example of Jesus and pour myself out in loving service during times of hardship, discouragement, and fruitlessness, faithfully serving God in whatever situation he's placed me in.

Perhaps it's time I took a scalpel, cut the word ‘Ministry’ out of my vocabulary, and, instead, talked and thought in terms of the word ‘service’. Perhaps then I'd stop worrying about my Ministry (along with my Vision, Gifts, Goals, Passions and Plans) and just get on with serving God's people, and making Jesus known, whenever and however I can.

¹I'm talking about the Greek work diakonia, which is usually translated ‘ministry’ or ‘service’, and which turns up in places like 1 Corinthians 12:5 and Ephesians 4:12.

This post first appeared on Sola Panel yesterday.

images are from Bnet_efekt, Eva the Weaver and Leo Reynolds at flickr

changing churches

Six months ago, we left our church and helped to start another church. It's not something I could tell you about at the time, but it's made life pretty tough for me this year. It's good to be able to finally fill you in! Here's something I wrote about the transition.

A church is a family is a family is a family.

I realised the implications of this (I'm a slow learner) when I read Simon Flinder's article "When it’s time to go" in The Briefing. He says leaving a church should be hard: it's like leaving a family. It's not something to be done lightly or easily.

Sometimes, leaving a church is unavoidable. That's where we've found ourselves this year: between churches (for reasons I won't go into here - but, let it be said, not because our old church was a bad one), and now starting (or re-starting) a new church family. We began with a small group of people we know well, but we left many familiar faces behind. Some I'll see in my Bible study until the end of the year; others I may not see again for a very long time.

So what did I feel? Shock. Heart-ache. Grief that still pulls at me. Fear. Doubt. Anxiety about what the future holds. Uncertainty. Homelessness. A deep longing for familiarity and stability.

One of the hardest things was being between churches. It felt exciting at first - such a relief not to have to lead Sunday School or feel responsible for people! - but quickly lost its novelty. After 4 weeks of going to other people's churches, I woke up one Sunday morning and knew I couldn't do it anymore. I sat up the very back of my friend's church and cried (very embarrassing!), longing for a church family I could call my own, a place to love and serve and belong.

A few months ago, our new Bible talk began (we weren't yet calling it a church) as twenty people met in our living room. There were no frills - no songs, no welcome team, no stained glass - just a bunch of God’s people sitting on the chairs and floor of our home. Our home – what a privilege! In all the chaos of cleaning, cooking, setting up chairs and clearing away the mess, there was great joy. The joy of being back with our church family. The joy of hearing our own pastor bring God's word to us. The joy of homecoming.

Our minister put it perfectly: no matter how small and simple the gathering, when God's people gather around God's word, something amazing happens.

Since then, there have been ups and downs. We now have a name and a place to meet. We're on the way to getting a logo and a leadership team. We're growing in numbers, and there's a real buzz about the place as people become Christians and are established in their faith. It's taken me a while (did I mention I don't cope well with change?) but I'm starting to feel at home, as if, yes, this is my family.

I know the excitement will fade. The day will come when I'll feel like grumbling about the work to be done, when the glow of enthusiasm gives way to tired familiarity, when it seems we can't go on. On that day, I hope I won't forget to look around me and thank God for the immense privilege of being part of this part of God's family on earth.

image is from stock.xchng

how we change (12) supporting each other

I often think of change as a solo effort. I change by examining my heart and filling my mind with God's truth and growing my faith and practising my repentance.

But change isn't something I do on my own. Change happens in the community of God's people. It happens as we speak the truth in love to each other (Eph 4:15, 29). It happens as, together, we grow into a community which displays the likeness of Christ.

The church is a better place for change than a therapy group, a counsellor's office or a retreat centre.

Here are four things I've found help me change in community.

1. Be honest about your sin.

Sin thrives on secrecy. The most stubborn sins are the ones no-one sees: self-pitying thoughts; harsh words behind closed doors; things we do to escape. But sin isn't meant to be kept private. God says, "confess your sins to each other and pray for each other" (Jam 5:16).

When we hide our sin, we cut ourselves off from encouragement, accountability and prayer. It's a vicious cycle, because when we keep silent, others keep silent too. Everyone assumes everyone else has it together, and we feel defeated, isolated and ashamed. "You don't have to tell everyone. But tell someone."

I love honesty, but I've learned the hard way that it must be helpful. Only tell others about your sin when it's loving and won't lead them astray. “Tell everyone you struggle; tell some people what you’re struggling with.” Confession is better upwards or sideways than downwards: confess to a mature Christian, not a young Christian.

When I feel too embarrassed to tell anyone about my sin, I remember God's words: “No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to [wo]man" (1 Cor 10:13). In my experience, mature Christian women welcome honesty and are eager to help me fight sin. A little embarrassment is worth it if it helps me change!

2. Seek accountability.

I have two friends I can count on to ask me the hard questions. When we get together, we ask each other, "How's your prayer life going? Are you loving your husband sexually? What about that sin I know you struggle with?" We don't gossip, but we do talk honestly and encourage one another. We've agreed to SMS each other to pray during times of temptation.

If you struggle in a particular way, seek out a mature Christian, tell them the details of your sin, and ask for their advice and prayer. Give them permission to ask the hard questions - often! Organise to call or text them the moment you're tempted so they can pray for you.

3. Speak the truth and accept it from others.

How do you respond when someone tells you about their sin? Too often, I make light of it. "You think that's bad? You should have heard me the other day!" "Yeah, we all do that." "That sounds really hard!" We can be great at sympathy, but not so good at speaking the truth in love (Eph 4:15).

When someone tells me about their sin, it's important not to play it down. I find it helpful to talk about how God has helped me with a similar sin. When possible, I ask about when they struggle and what lies and desires drive their sin, work out some practical strategies, pray for them, and follow up on the conversation later - and always, always, give them God's grace.

And if someone rebukes me, I'm learning not to laugh or shrug it off, but to listen with a humble heart. Even if their criticism is wrong, there's probably some truth in it. I pray about it and, if they're right, repent.

4. Be part of an honest community.

Christians can be very good at pretending. It's easy to look around your church and think everyone else has it together. No wonder messed-up, broken people don't feel at home there! I love Chester's concept of church: a messy place full of broken people who are open about their struggles.

What if my church isn't like this? I can't change anyone else, but I can change me! Maybe after the service when someone asks how I am, I can talk about my struggle with impatience. Maybe during my next small group I can confess the discontent I've been battling. Maybe I can phone someone and ask them to pray for me when I'm tempted to impurity. If I'm more open, it will help others to be more open too.

Have you got any other ideas? How does the community of God's people help us to change? Have you told a mature Christian about the sin you're struggling with? What's one step you could take to seek help from other Christians as you battle sin?

Quotes and ideas are from chapter 8 of Tim Chester's You Can Change; final quote is from Chester Captured by a Better Vision 120.

images are from stock.xchng and from ShaZ Ni, rocket ship, lanuiop and Andrew Kirkley at flickr

sisters for those with no sisters

I grew up with one brother and no sisters. I love my brother, and never longed for a sister - unlike my daughter, who loves her three brothers, but has always wanted a twin sister! But I've always wondered what it would be like to have a sister.

I know now. You see, I have many sisters, and they are as dear to me as any sister of blood could be. God is good, and "sets the lonely in families" (Ps 68:6) - not just blood-families, but church families. I look around my church, and I see sisters, brothers, mothers (Mk 3:35, Rom 12:10, 1 Tim 5:1-2, Heb 2:11). God gives fathers to the fatherless, mothers to the motherless, and brothers and sisters to those with no brothers or sisters.

As I've grown to love my sisters in Christ, I've learned that loving begets love. Just like a blood-family, you don't choose your church family. You might choose your church, but you don't choose the mix of personalities in it. A church is not a friendship group, built on mutual liking. A church is a family, and it's only as you love and serve that you come to love the people in it.

Loving begets love. When I don't invest much in others I feel little for them. But when I care for others I grow in love for them. When I teach Sunday School, I become fond even of the kids who are hardest to love. When I encourage the women in my small group, even on mornings when I'd rather stay home and rest, we grow closer together in God.

I have all kinds of sisters now. There's my little sister who is light where I am dark: extrovert to my introvert, she excels in hospitality and has the warmest welcome I've ever seen. There's my big sister who gives me wise advice when I'm confused about which path to take. There's my strong-minded sister who teaches me courage, my generous sister who motivates me to serve, and my struggling sister who inspires me to faithful perseverance.

The other day two of my sisters and I cried together about a mutual sorrow. As we sat side-by-side, disembowelling a box of tissues and comforting each other with prayer and a cup of tea, I realised how precious my sisters have become to me, and I thanked God. I pray for my daughter that one day she will look around and rejoice that although she has three brothers and no sisters, she has many sisters in Christ.

This post appeared on Monday on Sola Panel.

images are from discoodoni and sisidahl at flickr

growing up in the Christian community

One of the great blessings of being part of a Christian community is watching your children grow up surrounded by people who love Jesus. We went to a conference for Christian uni students the week before our Bright holiday (I'm still catching up on my posts, as you can see!).

Ben spent his whole time on the shoulders of the (very patient) young men at the conference, having a fantastic time and learning how to be a Christian man. Here he is with Ollie.

Being a man, apparently, includes watersliding into a freezing cold lake in the middle of a Melbourne winter (believe me, it was COLD!).



Being a man also means learning how to dance.

Ben also got to meet our prime minister, Kevin Rudd.

Well, maybe not. But he did learn heaps about being a Christian man. How grateful I am that he is growing up with such fantastic role models!

To MP3 or not to MP3?

Don Carson. John Piper. Mark Driscoll. Tim Keller. Mark Dever. Josh Harris. CJ Mahaney. Rip. Sync. Play.

Remember when you had to read Desiring God to know what John Piper thought? Remember when you had to buy JI Packer's sermon collections on CD? Remember when you had to travel to a conference to hear John Stott speak?

How things have changed! Now every mega church has its main webpage, every famous preacher has his downloadable sermons, and every well-known Christian leader keeps a blog.

These days, if you see a slightly daggy middle-aged man walking along, ear buds in place, with a frown of concentration on his face instead of a swing in his step, he may be listening to a sermon on his portable MP3 player. And that harassed Christian mother in the playground might be keeping an eye on her children to the background sound of talks from the latest American female speaker.

Last year, my husband gave me an MP3 player for my birthday, and suddenly my mental life became filled with new voices. I've listened to John Piper expound the Psalms, Don Carson preach on spiritual warfare, and Carolyn Mahaney teach women from Titus 2.

The unique dangers of this wonderful new world of accessible sermons didn't occur to me until the day I listened to a talk on Psalms 42-43 by the minister from our previous church, Neil Chambers. ...

Read the rest at Sola Panel

thirsty for church???

There's nothing like a churchly-drought to make you appreciate church.

Thirteen weeks teaching Sunday School during the longest term of the year - thirteen long, hard, enthralling weeks - left me feeling dry, parched, dehydrated, and thirsty to hear God's word preached.

You can listen to Bible talks on iPod, you can read Christian books, you can browse encouraging blogs, but there's nothing like meeting with other Christians!

I know, I know, it doesn't always feel like that. Often it feels boring, repetitive, difficult. Often you sit there fiddling with your hair, bemoaning the stain on your pants, and wondering why the person in front of you chose that hairstyle. Often - especially if you're a mum - a crying baby scatters your attention, or your hormone-fuddled brain keeps skittering off topic.

Often familiarity makes me forget what an amazing thing it is to sit there, week after week, surrounded by God's people receiving God's word.

Here's the profound conclusion of this dehydrated desert-wanderer: church is good. It's good to meet with God's people. It's good to encourage each other in song. It's good to pray together. It's good to hear God's word faithfully taught.

Next time you're in church, why not take a moment to appreciate the miracle.

n.b. "church" in the bible isn't a building, it's people. God's people meeting together to encourage each other. In case you were wondering.

BTW your minister is doing a hard job with little thanks. Give him some noddies.

brothers and sisters

I was sitting in church last Sunday, feeling sick (I had some fluey thing), sitting up the back fanning myself with a program (it was well over 30 degrees in there), and observing everyone vaguely through a cloud of dizzy achiness.

Thoughts drifted through my head: hmmm, that hawaiian shirt is awfully bright ... that is one cute baby ... there's that old guy again, he's lovely, but boy can he talk, I hope he doesn't corner me after the service ... how can anyone look so beautiful when they're 8 months pregnant? ... I think the drummer's got his timing a bit off today ... those new people look intellectual and stand-offish, wonder what they're making of the sermon on God's judgement? ... I like those shoes, but I couldn't walk in them ...

Suddenly it occurred to me, as the hawaiin-shirted guy walked past me for the third time: hey, he's my brother! (which is not a reference to a popular music ballad, wikipedia notwithstanding).

I might not know his name (even though he comes every week), I might not be all that keen on his taste in polyester, but we're both part of God's very large family, and he's as close to me as the brother I grew up with for 18 years.

Which means what? That I should treat him as well as I treat my own brother? I guess it depends how well I treat my brother. And I have no doubt that I, like most of us, could do better at that.

But I can't imagine a close family member in hospital or prison, and me not visiting; sick or depressed, and me not praying; in need of food or shelter, and me not helping to provide it; celebrating a great event, and me not rejoicing.

Which means I have a lot of thinking to do about how I treat the other members of my family.