Interrupted: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity

by Jen Hatmaker

When we focus on the message only, what are we saying to people? Maybe that they really aren’t dear to us? Is it possible that to share four great truths about God without giving the listeners a part of our lives might communicate the wrong thing? Paul knew that a message without an attractive

tangible person embodying and delivering it would fall on deaf ears or be lost amid all the other faiths of that time. What makes the gospel good news isn’t the concept, but the real-life person who has been changed by it.[2]

When a Christian consistently treats someone with compassion or demonstrates integrity at work,

the gospel wins a hearing. We can continue to invite unbelievers to church, but we must first invite them into our lives.

The spirit of mission means that we serve our neighbors long before they are brothers or sisters in Christ.

We inherited a kingdom that cannot be shaken; we are an unthreatened people. God will stay on His throne without our rigorous defense. Halter and Smay wrote,

Jesus didn’t, and we shouldn’t. He doesn’t need us to stick up for him; he needs us to represent him, to be like him, to look like him and to talk like him, to be with people that he would be with, and to take the side of the “ignorant” instead of those in the “know.”[3]

Love has won infinitely more converts than theology. The first believers were drawn to Christ’s mercy long befo...

Believer, your pastor or your church can never reach your coworker like you can. They do not have the sway over your neighbor who has been entrusted to you. No one better than you can love your wayward brother.

genuine relationship with a Christ follower on mission can reframe the kingdom, making a fresh perception possible. Then that person discovers that

“Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible”

mankind. The literal implication of slave means we behave “as a real slave”—labor as one, defer to those we serve, are diligent to please and not offend, and act as if we have no privileges at all—to win as many as possible.

When we lead with doctrine before love, we brutalize the spirit of the doctrine we’re prioritizing.

Insisting that unbelievers or disoriented believers defer to our convictions is the quickest way

to repel them from God. Even if our posture ...

broadcasting our extreme Christian principles without sensitivity makes us seem so weird that we...

Theology very naturally follows belief, but belief very rarely follows judgment.

I am overly sympathetic to disoriented sojourners and unfairly impatient with conservative evangelicals. My tolerance for silly rules and fear-based legalism is low, and I struggle with a very unmissional response to believers who lean toward the law.

If people are offended by God Himself, by His authority, His Word, His Son, His history, there is less we can do about that. They will ultimately have to wrestle with Him. But if they are offended by our representation of God, then we’ll answer for our arrogance. We can help that, and we had better do it.

All things to all people, not bound by convention, public opinion, appearance, legalism, or even His own rights.

is such a pleasure to represent a new expression of faith.

I get to skip all the church-speak and level with people authentically.

we all deliberately invite people into our homes—nothing revolutionary, just dinner, laughing, connecting. Willing to redefine “what counts,” we joyfully legitimize the hours spent investing

in people.

These moments are no less valid than two hours a week at an or...

contextualize the gospel through incarnational community.

selfish. They’d jump from church to church, hoping the void would be filled. Many are now looking outside the church.

focus: We’re trying to fill the void with something that will never be sufficient. There will never be enough knowledge to fill the cracks of Christian maturity without the fruit of selfless service manifested in our lives.

fullness that is found only in love.

If we’ve been in church for years yet aren’t full, are we really hungry for more knowledge? In our busy lives, do we really need another program or event? Do we really need to be fed more of the Word, or are we simply undernourished from an absence of living the Word? Maybe we love God, but are we loving others?

In Ephesians 4, Paul wrote that if we prepare ourselves for “works of service,” we will become mature, complete, perfected, and not lacking in anything (verse 12; James 1:4).

“This is our group for us to do life together.” “Our six families have been together for four years.” As small-group pastor for years,

Brandon observed that

community groups structured mainly for the benefit of their members have about ...

I believe more than simply losing interest, small groups like this evaporate because they aren’t on mission, and frankly, that gets boring and unfulfilling. How long can we sit in the same living room or Sunday school class with the same people talking about the same stuff? How many discussions can we have about Sunday’s sermon? How long can we sacrifice a night a week for a basic repeat of the last gathering? It runs out because we weren’t created to serve ourselves; we’re not wired to take the role of master, but slave. Blessing blessed

people eventually leaves us empty, and despite a church system designed to meet our needs, these words come out of our mouths: “I’m not being fed.”

believe the largest factor in feeling unfed is no...

another sermon. I couldn’t count the sermons I’ve heard, yet almost none of my transformational moments took place in a church pew. Are you kidding me? I’ve been a believer for thirty-four years—pastor’s daughter, Baptist college student, pastor’s wife, Bible teacher, Christian author, church/camp/conference/revival enthusiast, Christian poster

transformation. A little refining? Sanding some rough edges? Sure. But transformation? I don’t mean to be condescending, and by that I mean talking down to you, but you must not know me and my track record.

Transformation came in the form of dirty homeless men and abandoned kids. It came through abused women and foster children. It came through neighbors crying at my kitchen table. Transformation began with humility, even humiliation. It started with conviction and discipline. It increased through loss, not gain.

If an endless array of Bible

studies, programs, church events, and sermons have left you dry, please hear this: living on mission where you’ve been sent will transform your faith journey.

family); they meet one week for mission work with our nonprofit partners in the city; and they spend the last week apart to intentionally live on mission: inviting neighbors over for dinner, going out for coffee with a coworker, hosting poker night at the Hatmakers.