It occurred to me this evening, as I was having a discussion with some Mormons, that one of the qualifications for elders and deacons in the church is that a man must be “a husband of one wife” (1 Tim 3:2, 12; Titus 1:6). This disqualifies Smith and most of the early Mormon leaders from being considered apostles, since they were polygamists and could not have even been a deacon or elder. How can one who is unable to be a deacon be considered an apostle? He can’t. End of story.

What are you living for and is it showing? Is it worth living for? Is there something better?

Are you living for an idol? Are you living for your own consumption? Measuring your life by how much you can get?

Are you living for your own glory? Or are you living for the unsurpassed glory of the King of kings? Does it show?

Dr. Albert Mohler, President of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, which I attend gave a speech last week on the future of the Southern Baptist Convention. He compared the SBC to shopping malls and General Motors, pointing out that each have gone from cutting edge business models, to being a thing of the past. GM is the largest corporate bankruptcy in history and there hasn’t been a shopping mall built in this country in 3-4 years.

This week, Dr. Mohler met with several other representatives of the SBC on the newly commissioned Great Commission Resurgence Task Force. The aim is to discover what changes can be made to the SBC to allow our churches to be effective in sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ with the world. The Task Force is asking questions, probing for answers, and attempting to leave no stone unturned.

I wonder in all this, if the answer is not right under our noses? I wonder if perhaps we are not getting the answers because for too long we haven’t been asking the right questions? Are we asking all the wrong questions?

Dr. Mohler posted to his Facebook status yesterday from the GCR luncheon,

Thinking big thoughts, hearing good discussion, and watching rain fall outside.

I wonder if our “big thoughts” are not themselves the problem. Have we gone too long attempting big thoughts of our own significance? Should we not think small, seemingly insignificant, foolish, Christ-like thoughts? Is it possible that our problem is not the ability to be something great, but our willingness to be small?

As I followed the GCR luncheon on the Florida Baptist Witness website, someone pointed out the lack of pastors/representatives from small churches on the Task Force. I will venture to guess that this is precisely our problem. We have become so enamored with our big churches; with their budgets and massive sanctuaries and flat screen televisions and mega sound systems. Have we forgotten that the gospel requires none of this? Have we forgotten that the church has nothing to do with any of this? That the church is life-on-life being poured out and ground up together?

We want to be more effective with the gospel. We want the Church of our Lord Jesus to grow, but it’s going to have to get smaller before it gets bigger. It’s going to take giving the pastor with 20 sheep a seat at the table with the super-shepherds. We may actually find that his sheep aren’t dying of starvation and getting carried off by wolves. It’s going to take giving the younger generation a seat at the table; and I’m not talking about the seminary student wearing a suit following his professors around. I’m talking about the student in shorts and a t-shirt who wants nothing to do with SBC politics; the guy who would be more comfortable with John the Baptist than with most pastors. Ask him and you may find your answers.

I can guarantee one thing: this is going to be painful. If it’s not, then we haven’t actually accomplished anything worthwhile! It will destroy many of our assumptions and sacred cows. We have to stop buying the lie that numbers equal success; that a growing church is a healthy church. It may take – heaven forbid - axing the Cooperative Program, the Executive Committee, or even convention meetings. We may have to tear down some high places and desecrate some altars. We may have to drink a glass of wine, dance, sell our buildings, talk about sex, drive a Chevy clunker, trade in the Cadillac, and get to know a gay neighbor.

Are we willing to ask the right questions? And are we willing to take the answers and act? Or will we continue with the same people asking the same questions and pretend we’re accomplishing something?

How long , O Lord? How long until You wipe away every tear from our eyes? How long until that last enemy, Death, is destroyed forever? How long until we stand before Your throne? Father, how long until You embrace Your little ones? How long until I no longer have to look into my brother’s eyes and weep with him for his dying mother? How long until cancer kills no more? Come, Lord Jesus!

I heard the saying often growing up: “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” But is it true? Is this really the case, or is this a cultural misconception? Is God squeaky clean?

Jesus didn’t wash his hands before he ate.

In Matthew 15, the Pharisees and scribes asked Jesus why he didn’t follow the tradition of the elders and wash his hands before he ate. He took this opportunity to share with them a simple truth about the kingdom of God.

Cleanliness is not next to godliness.

At least not in the way the religious leaders thought. They were so concerned with what was entering their bodies that they neglected what was coming out. They missed a very simple truth that is the heart of the gospel.

All have sinned.

All are covered in the stain and dirt of sin. Wallowing in excrement. Content in foulness. Rotting away.

Enter Jesus.

From his throne on high, he steps down. Walks toward you. Kneels down in his flowing white robes. Robes so white, bleach would stain them. Hot, glowing, blinding white. But he kneels down into the mud and filth. He touches you. He reaches out his hand and pulls you toward himself, embracing you in his arms. He doesn’t seem to mind that his robes are now filthy too. But the filth doesn’t seem to stick to him.

Up from the ground he pulls you. He motions to his servants, and they bring clothes. Clothes more perfect than anything you’ve seen before. Clean, starched white clothes. They lead you toward a place where you are washed clean.

As you look around, you see others. You weren’t the only one in the mire. These others have been washed also. There’s something about them. A fragrance. An air. Something you’ve never seen before. It’s Jesus. They smell like him.

Cleanliness is next to godliness.

But it is a different kind of cleanliness. The kind only Jesus can offer. Only Jesus can wash your stains clean. Only he has the power to remove sin, by his blood shed on the cross in your place. This cleanliness is not a result of any attempt to clean yourself. It is only by admitting sin and turning in faith to follow Jesus that you can be cleansed. Reaching out to take his hand. Receive the cleanliness that leads to godliness. Be washed by the water.