Suffering and Freedom

Several years ago I preached a series about freedom. Not “fife-and-drum” American freedom, but volitional freedom. Freedom of the will, if you will. Freedom has come to take a central place in my understanding of life. Freedom can help ease the pain and pressure of suffering and bring a sense of reason to what seems senseless. 

Whenever a terrible thing happens, most people try to make sense of it. They ask themselves why it happened; they want to know if there was some greater purpose behind it. This often leads to cloudy thinking, and may actually increase, rather than ease the suffering. The idea of volitional freedom actually helps me make a little sense out of all the garbage that happens in the world, and eases some of the pain when going through tragedy.

Many years ago a two year old at a church I pastored drowned in a creek. His grandmother attributed the cause to God “needing another angel in heaven.” She found comfort in that, and I wasn’t about to take that away from her. But really? “God kills people to populate his home?” I’m not sure what kind of god would do that, but with all due respect, keep that God away from me, please.

Instead, I have found that freedom provides all the reason that’s needed for much of what’s bad in this world. In January of 2017 my nephew died. He was driving fast, under the influence, on a mountain road, didn’t make a curve and ended upside-down in four feet of water. He and his passenger both drowned. He was 26. This was a horrible tragedy. My sister was devastated. Grief ripped through my family like a saw-toothed knife. Why did this happen?

I don’t believe there was anything that “caused” this to happen, apart from freedom. There was no “grand design” that stole my nephew from us. It was not simply “his time to go.” This terrible accident happened because God gave us the freedom to choose what we do. We live in a world where the consequences of our choices really matter. When we choose to drive impaired and too fast on curvy roads, it is possible that we will lose control of our vehicle and … well, you know. 

So much of the suffering I see in the world can be explained by choices that someone has made. Either our own choice or the choice of someone else. None of it has a “reason,” other than that God gave us freedom. What we do matters—eternally, actually. (Of course, other things can cause suffering, but I don’t have time to deal with those here.)

The comfort comes from not having to figure out a “reason” for the bad things that happen. They just do. They come with the territory of life, with being alive and being imperfect in a fallen world. All of us make choices. Some of them hurt us or others. But some choices bless, and that is a comfort. The same freedom that causes so much pain is also the freedom that allows all that is truly good to exist. Without freedom there would be no trust, no affection, no love. The foundation of all meaningful relationships is the freedom we have to enter into them. 

There is a further comfort. God promises to be with us when we suffer in our freedom. No matter how senseless our suffering, God is with us. He sees and knows our suffering; he suffered on the cross. But more importantly, in him we triumph over suffering. In Christ we share the power of his own resurrection! Therein lies our true comfort.

John Swope is an educator and leader offering pastoral care, leadership development, and church consultation through Parhelion Counseling & Care, LLC. He lives by the mantra, “Question everything,” and is known for seeing things from a perspective that others often miss.

Following on Dry Land

Six years ago I wrote this devotion as encouragement to follow Jesus closely, especially in times of “nothing special.”

My life is full of nice little things right now [in October 2019]. I have meaningful employment working with people I enjoy. This summer we finished all the major projects on our renovation of the house we bought at a sheriff’s auction, so now I have a little more time to relax. I have a little pontoon boat that’s just right for spending a little time with my beautiful wife on sunset cruises on our little lake. We have two adorable little dogs, I have all the food I need, and most of my clothes are comfortable. Aside from the glaring emergency every now and then, my world is largely made up of nice little things. 

Sounds great, doesn’t it? And it is. But sometimes I get the urge for the next “big thing.” Don’t get me wrong: I can, and do, enjoy a nice routine, but I’ve never been one to simply keep going through the motions. Most of my life has been spent asking God, “What’s next?” Often there have been huge milestones, such as buying and remodeling a house (we’ve done three), having and raising children (we’ve raised four), or progressing in my career and calling (there’ve been six different tracks [–now eight!]). Until I came to the seminary in 2012, the longest I’d ever worked in the same position was five and a half years. Luckily for me the first four years here involved a lot of change and innovation!

But still, life is good. It’s full of nice little things. And God is using those little things to shape me in ways that are sometimes hard for me. Oswald Chamber’s makes a strange claim: “We do not need the grace of God to stand crises, human nature and pride … can face the strain magnificently.”* The real challenge, he says, is that we must depend totally upon the grace of God for the 24/7 moment-by-moment “drudgery” of being a disciple. 

I’m certain Chambers is not suggesting that following Jesus is boring, but daily life can be full of “ordinary, unobserved, ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus.” Drawing on the character of Peter, Chambers says that, “Walking on the water is easy to impulsive pluck, but walking on dry land as a disciple of Jesus is another thing altogether.” It was easy for Peter, in the heat of the moment, to follow Christ onto the sea. But on dry land, he “followed him from a distance” (Mk 14:54).

As I ponder the many little moments that make up my days, I wonder how closely I’m following Jesus “on dry land,” or do I follow him from a distance throughout the “drudge” of the day-to-day? I am encouraged that in every moment of every day, our Lord invites us to “come unto Me.”  

Galatians 6:9   And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

*My Utmost for His Highest, October 21.

Developing Chests

I’m a huge CS Lewis fan. So the other day my eye was immediately caught by the title, “What I Failed to Learn from C. S. Lewis.”* Its author, Jeff Dryden, confesses he had missed a significant point in Lewis’ book, The Abolition of Man. He had always thought Lewis’ main point in this work was the importance of objective knowledge. But through his years of teaching, he’s found that forming intellects isn’t enough. Informing minds does not make people in Christ’s image. Now he sees that Lewis’ model actually focuses on forming students’ emotions and affections—“teaching them to “love what is good and to disdain what is evil.” Or, “the head rules the belly through the chest.” The head’s role is to determine what is right (by intellect and reason), but by itself, it hasn’t enough power to control the belly (our desires). For that, we need the help of our “chests.” By that, Lewis means our deepest self, our will, which is fueled by our emotions and affections. These need to be trained to want what our heads have discerned to be good, right and true. 

For a long time I have pondered how the Holy Spirit forms us into the image of Christ and how we partner with the Spirit’s work. I share Dryden’s conclusion that often we’ve too much emphasized informing heads, and not enough forming chests. We all agree that knowing the right thing to do is no guarantee of doing the right thing. We have to want to do what we know is right. We need to train our emotions and affections in order to move our wills. 

Let me summarize: We have desires that may or may not be aligned with God’s best for us. These desires metaphorically come from our belly. Our intellect and reason (our heads) help us discern what is God’s best for us. But it is our will (our chests), driven by our affections and emotions, that determine what we will do. Without chests, we will never be able to do what we know is right (“Men without Chests” is the first chapter in The Abolition of Man). 

The key question is clear: How do we go about forming chests? Certainly, we need to start with our own. Even as we teach our minds to discern what is good, we need to train our emotions to value, love and long for what is “good and right and true” (Eph 5:9). Additionally, for those in Christian ministry, we are also concerned with helping others to shape their affections and emotions. 

How? To begin, we need to discover what stirs our hearts toward the things of God, and participate in them regularly. These “stirrers of our emotions” can be things like songs, movies or books. They may also be activities like Bible meditation, prayer, running, hiking, writing or composing music. Certain people can also stir our hearts toward God and the things of God. Chests form when we spend time with those who lift our emotions toward what is “good, acceptable and perfect” (Rom 12:2). The key, I think, is to intentionally devote time and energy to build up the strength of those loves and affections that draw us into Christ.

As we regularly partake of these practices, we can partner with the Spirit’s work to not only renew our minds, but to develop our hearts–our wills–in alignment with the heart of God. Similarly, by training and encouraging others toward practices that lift and inspire them to want God’s best for themselves and others, we can help them form chests that can move their wills in line with the desires of God. 

May Christ form the fullness of his heart within your chest. 

*Didaktikos November 2021, 5:2, 31-35; see also CS Lewis, The Abolition of Man, New York: MacMillan, 1947.

Remembering a Mentor

In my circles (ministry and education), “mentoring” has been in the spotlight for many years. Interestingly, I’ve never called someone my “mentor” at the time, but a mentor by any other name is just as sweet. There are many men and women who have filled that role in my life, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude for them. Each left a mark which has helped to shape me into who I am today. For a few, however, I continue to discover how deeply they impacted me and whose influence is ongoing.

One such mentor is a person who sadly passed away several years ago, Pastor Sandford Mitchell. I came to work for Sandy in 1993 as the “Youth Guy,” while attending seminary. Although I had several years’ experience teaching teens and volunteering with youth groups, I was new to ministry as a vocation. I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor, a role he filled amazingly well as he was also my boss. 

Sandy didn’t tell me what to do, he told what needed to be done, how it had been done in the past, and let me figure out how to get it done in ways that fit me. If I misstepped, he never called me into his office, but would come down the hall to mine, sat in front of my desk, and spoke to me “on my own turf.” He would clearly express what was on his mind, and invite me to respond. We’d work to resolve the issue, then he’d always say, “That’s all right; everyone here is allowed one mistake.” No matter how many times he had to talk with me, I was always allowed “one mistake.” I learned it was safe to go big, because it was safe to fail—safe, but discouraged. 

From Sandy I learned patience and persistence. I watched as he led the church board through decisions that sometimes took several years to come to fruition. He was never pushy, but with a gentle relentlessness, he would continue to move toward a goal that he thought was best for the mission of the church. And for Sandy, everything was about mission. How often we all heard the one centering question from his lips: “What is God calling us to do?” For Sandy, if we could answer that, then nothing else remained but to do it. Those are some powerful lessons.

Who can you identify as a “mentor” in your life? I encourage you to take some time to think about how they have influenced you, the imprint they have left on your life. Then, if you haven’t yet (or not recently), let them know how much you appreciate them for what they’ve done for you. 

But that’s not all—mentoring must form a chain. In scripture, Barnabas mentored Paul, Paul mentored Timothy. We have our mentors, and we are grateful. Is there a younger person in your life that you could help through your relationship with them? Pass on the legacy: be a mentor.

From Career to Calling

Believe it or not, I didn’t start out in the role I have now. I didn’t always work at a seminary. Neither have I always been in ministry. Actually, my first career was teaching industrial arts to middle schoolers—quite a shift! I got here through a long circuitous route. But the first step was making the decision to leave one career for a calling I couldn’t shake. 

After years of wrestling with what I thought God wanted me to do with my life, in the spring of 1993 my wife and I decided we were going for it: regardless of circumstances, that summer we would leave our home in south Florida and move to a small town in Ohio to attend seminary in the fall. Within a few weeks I resigned my tenured teaching position, we accepted a bid to sell our house, and promptly found out we were expecting our third child. There was a sudden catch of breath, some icy fear in the gut, a bit of panic about the great unknowns, and then a remarkable peace settled in. We didn’t understand how the terror wasn’t overwhelming, but we took it as a sign that the move was something that God was truly directing. We sold our house, packed all our belongings and two children in a rental truck, and drove 1200 miles north. Within three days of arriving in Ohio I had a job offer that proved to be one of the most satisfying ministry experiences of my career. Not only that, but the seminary I attended introduced me to the denomination that I served for over 20 years.

It is never easy to make the transition from an existing career to seminary and ministry. Even though things worked out well for us, it was still a difficult decision to make, and an even tougher one to step into. It illustrates a principle that I have experienced over and over in life: often God meets us after we’ve stepped out in faith. We see it when the fledgling nation of Israel crossed the Jordan River under Joshua’s leadership. God had promised to stop the water, similar to the Red Sea experience. Except this time the priests, carrying the ark of the covenant, had to actually step into the river. They literally had to take a step of faith and get their feet wet before the waters backed up and the people could cross.  

I think there are times like that in our lives as well. Times when we need to step into the water in order for God show up and show us the way. All I know is that when I left my career in public education to attend seminary to prepare for whatever he was calling me to, God met me. In powerful ways. I encountered faculty who were more concerned with me as a person than as a student. I was exposed to theological and historical perspectives that didn’t just fill my head with knowledge, they transformed how I thought and provided foundations on which to build. I discovered much about myself and how I relate to others, and how to position myself to serve and lead well. Of course, seminary didn’t prepare me for everything that I would encounter in the years of ministry and leadership that followed. But they provided a community which modeled a transformational model of discipleship that was centered in Christ, grounded in scripture, and open to the Spirit. I was overjoyed when, sixteen years after I had graduated, I was able to step into the role of a retiring professor who had been a beloved mentor to me. 

If you’re reading this, you may be sensing a similar calling. It might be clear as mountain air, or foggy as a west coast morning. But you just can’t escape a sense that God is calling you. Maybe you’re in a job that isn’t fulfilling. Or you may be wonderfully successful in your career, but you sense that you should be doing something else. It might be merely a niggling in the back of your mind. You have a career, but you believe you have a calling.

The truth, of course, is that every Christian is called—we are called to be witnesses, bearers of the truth of Jesus Christ, examples of his love, and servants to those around us. But there is also this sense of “a calling.” A feeling some people have of a direction God wants them to move, or a goal he wants them to pursue. We see it clearly in many of the leaders in Scripture. Moses had the burning bush; Gideon had the threshing floor. Many were reluctant, like those two were. Then there are others, who are eager, like Isaiah: “Here I am, send me!” The point is that even though all followers of Christ are called, not all have a calling to leave what they are doing and do something else. 

I think it’s harder when your calling is undefined. “Go tell Pharaoh to let my people go!” is pretty clear. But what about Abram? “Leave your home and everything you know, and go…well, I’ll tell you when you get there.” What is God doing here? Why would he call someone without a clear indication of what they’re stepping into? Maybe a little ambiguity is necessary to position the men and women he’s calling, so they are prepared to step into service and leadership regardless of its setting. In a church? Sure. But also in non-profits, community development, social-help agencies, and other non-church related fields. And maybe you are part of what’s needed. Perhaps God is calling you to prepare, to train, to become equipped, for the yet to be discovered needs of the people that God loves so much. 

It’s scary to leave what you know. Or even to shift your routine. It’s a sacrifice to give up the familiar and comfortable for the unknown and the challenging. But if you take that step, if you get your feet wet, you will be amazed how God shows up. 

If you’re sensing a call, but aren’t sure of the next step, we’d like to talk with you. I’d like to talk with you. Every person’s journey is different, and only you can make that decision. But sometimes even a brief conversation can offer a direction that you never even imagined. And sometimes, when you turn in that direction, you end up living a life you never dreamed. 

Contact me. I’ll tell you about one of those conversations that changed my life. Maybe you’ll have one, too. 

John Swope is an educator and leader offering pastoral care, leadership development, and church consultation through Parhelion Counseling & Care, LLC. He lives by the mantra, “Question everything,” and is known for seeing things from a perspective that others often miss.

Helping Others with Their Calling

In my roles in ministry and education, many have come to me seeking help to discern their “calling.” The whole idea of Christian “calling” can be confusing, and can create stress for people who sense a call from God, but aren’t sure what it is or how to respond. My own vocational path has been long and circuitous—certainly not a straight shot at a clearly determined end goal. Along the way, I’ve learned a lot about how God calls and equips his servants for the work that he has dreamed up for them. I’ve also learned much from years of walking alongside people of all ages, who were seeking to follow where God was leading. I’d like to share some of what I’ve learned, in the hope that it may help you guide others along the path of discerning their calling.

Listen to their story

Each person’s path is unique. The range of call-stories in Scripture portray a wide array of ways that God calls his servants, and a vast scope of the types of service. The best way to begin to help someone who is struggling with a sense of calling is to let them tell you their individual story. Listen to their experiences; ask them what they have discerned so far. Probe a bit into why they feel and think as they do about their calling. This information will help you adapt any insight or advice directly to their situation, and avoid generalized platitudes. 

Provide assurances

It may help to begin by letting them know they don’t need a clearly defined mission statement. Often a person approaches their calling from the perspective that it must be some specific goal, such as a type of ministry or service in a certain place or to a people group. It may be, but in the vast majority of callings that I’ve encountered, it is rarely so well-defined. Some people get the Moses-call: “Go do this specific thing for these particular people.” But more often I think they get the Abram-call: “Just go. I’ll tell you where and when, and let you know when you get there.” Assure them that they don’t need to have a clear final goal. The key is if God is calling them to do something (other than what they are currently doing), they should respond.

Help them broaden their possibilities. It’s important to remind them that all Christians are called to follow and serve Jesus, so it may be that someone’s calling lies outside of what most would consider a “ministry.” They don’t need to be thinking inside the box of pastoral, or even exclusively “Christian” service. Many Christians are called to what are considered “secular” vocations. 

Explain that a calling isn’t an end point on a journey. It’s the journey itself. Simply put, our calling was voiced by Jesus to the first disciples, and hasn’t changed: “Follow me.” If we are doing our best to follow Jesus each day, then we can trust him that we are fulfilling our calling. Any changes we need to make in life will arise out of the events and decisions in our daily lives. I was fulfilling my calling when I taught middle school. I was also fulfilling it when I did youth ministry during seminary. In each stage of life that led me to where I am now, my calling was to do what God called me to at that time. Our calling includes every day of every year of our lives. 

This leads to a key principle for fulfilling our calling: you only need to know the next step. God rarely shows us the end at the beginning; but he does shine a light on the path right in front of us. If you can help them determine what their next step is, they’re making progress.

Finally, assure them it’s not something they can “miss” or “mess up.” God’s plan already includes “all things” (Rom 8:28-29), so trust him to work out his calling in his timing. We are not required to follow God’s plan perfectly; just to trust and follow him as best we can. He’ll take care of the rest (see Phil 1:6). 

Offer some practical tips

Once you’ve allayed their fears, move to some practical advice. Be sure to tailor your comments to their personal call-story that they’ve shared. Help them identify types of things they do well or have done well in the past. Then brainstorm with them the types of service that match those skills and tasks. Always relate this back to what they have already shared about their interests and hopes. 

Help them identify what aspects they enjoy most about what they do now (or have done). Look for ways to see how those dynamics they enjoy might be present in other types of service (relevant to what they’ve shared with you so far).

Work with them to assess what resources and opportunities are currently or easily available to them, that could become part of their “next step.” These could be things such as training opportunities in nearby churches, attending a conference, or completing a certificate or degree at a seminary or Bible college. It may be an opportunity to volunteer in a ministry in order to gain perspective about the type of work they feel called to do. You might simply encourage them to do some independent research in an area to explore options for a good next step. 

Gently introduce any additional ideas that you think might be helpful to them. Because all people’s paths are unique, our help needs to be adapted for each individual. But I’ll leave you with two things that I think are vital for every situation. First, from James 1:5: “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.” Assure them that God eagerly desires to share his wisdom with us; it’s a promise! Second, remind them that living out our calling is a lifelong process that God promises to fulfill. God wants us to walk in the works he’s prepared for us to do (see Eph 2:10). In other words, God is on our side; he’s not trying to keep you from fulfilling your calling. He’ll walk you through it. All the way.

John Swope is an educator and leader offering pastoral care, leadership development, and church consultation through Parhelion Counseling & Care, LLC. He lives by the mantra, “Question everything,” and is known for seeing things from a perspective that others often miss.

Stepping into Your Dream

I’ve always dreamed of being a writer. I wrote my first book in first grade. A sentence on one page with an illustration on the next, for several pages. It was a proud moment. When I was eleven I started my first novel (my sister was my editor). I got about six pages into it before I gave it up. Even so, I’ve been writing ever since. Funny, though, not much published. It seems you can’t get published unless you submit something to a publisher. I’ve always dreamed of being a writer.

In the summer of 2024 I lost my job at the seminary that I fell in love with as a student. After years of ministry and a PhD, I was fortunate enough to return there and serve as an administrator/professor (non-tenure track) for twelve years. It was extremely rewarding (and challenging). Having to leave threw me into a tailspin of transition. It’s not been fun. It’s also not the first time God has led me into a period of doubt and difficulty. Amazingly, he’s provided for our needs (I’m not sure why I’m amazed–he’s God after all). And there’s evidence that he’s leading us through this (but not as quickly as we’d like). During this time of transition I keep running up against the idea it may be time for me to write–really write. 

Here’s an extra rub: when I finished my dissertation in 2010, God made it clear he wanted me to write. I did and I have. Over the years I’ve written thousands of pages for school assignments, curriculum plans, online courses, retreats, conferences, sermons, presentations, committee reports and accreditation reviews. I have three finished books tucked neatly away on my laptop. Thousands of pages. I even submitted an article once. I’ve had a few friends proof a couple manuscripts. I am confident in my writing skills. Others have affirmed my ability to write well. Why have I never been published? Fear. I can write anything for my students or my colleagues in the church or academy. But baring my writing for all to see? Terrifying. 

That’s the point. I think many of us have something we feel led to do. We want to do it. We may even feel God is calling us to do it. But we’re scared. I get that. Fear of failure is one of my best-worst friends. Often our fears convince us to kick our dreams further down the road. We put off doing what we most want to do. Years go by, and we may begin to think it’s too late to start. Sometimes that can almost be a relief, except that it’s too depressing to accept the death of our dream. So I’ve decided it’s time to write. Not just write, but surrender what I write to an audience that is not captive (a classroom) or controlled (people I know). 

And I’m writing this to encourage anyone else out there who might feel like it’s too late to step into your dream. It’s not.

A mentor of mine once told me whenever he encounters something that rings true but goes no further, in his notes he writes: YBH? (for “Yes, but how?”). So when I say, “It’s not too late to start on your dream,” you might say: “Yes, but how?” How do we start on a dream that we’ve been hiding under bed instead of setting it out in the sun to grow? That, of course, depends largely on the dream. Each person with a dream needs to start where they are. And the next steps for each of us will vary widely. But there are some steps that can help us get past the fear that stands between us and our dream. These are steps that need to be done before we begin stepping toward our dream. Pre-steps, I suppose. What are the pre-steps? We need to get past, get over, and get free from our fear. (Here it is again: YBH?!)

Trying to be fearless won’t work. Fear is a gift for survival; it keeps us from doing things that will get us killed. Fear is not the problem, it’s the lack of courage to overcome our fear. How can we muster the courage to pursue our dream regardless of our fears? Below are three questions that can help us overcome our fear to begin making our dream real.

First, ask yourself, What will I lose if I try? My response looks something like this:
“Nothing (or next to nothing).” Sure, it’ll cost me the time and energy to write. If I put something out there, and it doesn’t connect with others the way I hope, that’ll hurt. But I already feel like a failure for not trying before now, so that can’t be avoided. If I don’t try at all, that feeling of failure will only get worse. If I try and fail, then at least I can take solace that I faced my fear and put myself out there. So I’ve got nothing to lose. You may never get your estimated loss down to “nothing,” but it should be less than what you’ll lose if you don’t try. What will you really lose if you try?

The second question is: What else do I have to do? This one’s important. If you have other commitments that in the long run are more important than your dream (such as significant relationships or family), you need to think carefully about when to launch. Be patient. If you sacrifice everything pursuing your dream, you may find that what you sacrificed was more important than even the most successful dream. For most of us, loving relationships trump dream-chasing any day. Odds are that no time will be perfect. But “as good a time as any” is better than a “bad time.” This may not be a good time; that’s up to you to decide, but ask the question. Once you’ve determined the timing is right, it’ll be easier to walk right past your fears along the dreamroad. Is now the time?

Finally, ask yourself, Do I have a plan? I’m not asking what your plan is; I’m simply asking if you have one. One of the greatest causes of fear for most people is uncertainty. Stepping toward your dream is one big uncertain journey. A simple plan can help take the edge off your fear. Start with small, clear steps in the immediate or very near future. Plan some flexible benchmarks in the mid-range to keep you focused. And hold some long-range goals loosely (it’s ok if they’re a little fuzzy). The plan doesn’t need to work out exactly as you intend. It’s simply a guide to ease your fears as you discover what stepping into your dream will be like as it becomes reality. 

So, what have we learned today? (Any TaskMaster fans out there?)

Most of us have a dream that we’re afraid to put into action. 

Although the steps to begin pursuing our dream depend on us and our dream, we can begin moving forward in spite of our fear if we can:

• Realize that what you have to lose if you try is not as bad as what you have to lose if you don’t.

• Determine that now is the best time, or as good a time as any to do it.

• Have a plan to make it easier to succeed, with clear steps to move you forward. 

I hope this helps you move toward your dream in spite of your fear. I always dreamed of being a writer. What’s your dream?