The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

AllanStanglin.com

Category: Preaching (Page 2 of 25)

Hard-Found Humility

October 8, 2025 / / 1 Comment

Pastoring a church can sometimes be a brutal business. Congregational ministry is richly satisfying for me, but it’s also by far the hardest work I’ve ever done and sometimes kicks the stuffing completely out of me. Being the preacher means getting cut. Deeply. By people you love very much. Such sharp and painful cuts. Friends who leave. People who are lost. Unfounded accusations. Jumped conclusions. Confusing complaints. A million different betrayals. When I encountered one of my first set backs in my first year of preaching, a long time ago, someone told me that the church never loves the preacher as much as the preacher loves the church. I didn’t know what he meant back then. Stan Reid, the president of my seminary, wrote on my graduation card in 2007, God will use the good times to encourage you and the bad times to keep you humble; both are needed. Indeed.

But it’s not just what others do to us, it’s our own mistakes and mess-ups that keep us humble. Eugene Peterson wrote this in a letter to his son about being a pastor:

“We make far more mistakes in our line of work than other so-called professionals. If physicians and engineers and lawyers and military officers made as many mistakes as we do in our line of work, they would be out on the street in no time. It amazes me still how much of the time I simply don’t know what I’m doing, don’t know what to say, don’t know what the next move is… But I had a sense much of the time (but not by any means continuously) that ‘not knowing what I am doing’ is more or less what it feels like when I am ‘trusting in God’ and ‘following Jesus.’ 

I’ve never been so dependent on my time alone with our Lord in Word and Prayer every single day than since he’s called me to be a preacher. I find that more and more of what God is asking me to do and what the church expects me to do is completely impossible for me to do. I cannot do it. I have already messed it up. I am listening to you, Lord. I am following you. And we both know only you can do this.

Lastly, we preachers are humbled by trying to shepherd our churches in the name and manner of Jesus. He teaches us how to stoop, how to give, how to work with a bowl and a towel. He teaches us to lean in to the interruptions, to make the hospital visits, to listen for a really long time, to write the card or the letter, to ask for forgiveness, to show mercy, to exercise patience–the whole time looking for that little opening into someone’s soul.

I was invited to speak at First Baptist’s annual minister appreciation lunch here in Midland on Monday. Those pastors I already knew and some of the ones I met on Monday all concur that right now today may be the most difficult time to be a pastor in our lifetimes. It kills some guys. It makes them hard. They wear masks and lose their authenticity. They get guarded and stiff. Others graciously embrace the hard-found humility. They become more patient, more kind, more full of grace for others and for themselves.

I thank my God for the tremendous honor and for the lessons in humility. May my gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our most wonderful grandsons are three-months old today and they are even more incredibly awesome than you can begin to imagine. Look at these guys!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those two pictures were taken yesterday. The official  month-day pictures are always on the giraffe. Those came today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re gonna need a bigger giraffe.

Peace,
Allan

The Most Courageous Thing

June 18, 2025 / / 0 Comments

A good friend of mine at our church sent me a powerfully encouraging email this week related to last Sunday’s sermon. The sermon was about identity and belonging from the first part of Galatians 3. Our identity, like our salvation, is to be found in Christ alone. We struggle with this. We build our identities based on where we came from or where we live or how we vote or the size of our houses or the work we do. It’s even possible–easily–for a preacher to construct his identity around being a preacher.

The note from this friend very generously reminded me that I am doing what God created me to do: to inspire and encourage my brothers and sisters to give themselves fully to God in Christ. It was very nice. And timely. I get these kind cards and emails every now and then, and they always feel like they come directly from God. I’m so thankful to God for these Spirit-inspired encouragements. This time, the message came with a long quote from Richard Rohr, the author of several books on spiritual living.

I’m sharing the quote here in its entirety, but I want to emphasize the dynamic center of the whole thing: “The most courageous thing you will ever do is accept that you are just yourself.”

Great people do not need to concoct an identity for themselves; they merely try to discover, uncover, and enjoy the identity they already have. As Francis said to us right before he died in 1226, ‘I have done what was mine to do. Now you must do what is yours to do.’ Yet to just be yourself, who you really are, warts and all, feels like too little, a disappointment, a step backward into ordinariness.

It sounds much more exciting to pretend I am St. Francis than accepting that I am Richard and that that is all God expects me to be–and everything that God expects me to be. My destiny and his desire are already written in my genes, my upbringing, and my natural gifts. It is probably the most courageous thing you will ever do to accept that you are just yourself. It will take perfect faith, the blind ‘yes’ of Mary, because it is the ongoing and same incarnation. Just like the Word of God descending into one little whimpering child, in one small stable, in one moment, in one unimportant country, noticed by nobody. We call it the scandal of particularity. This, here, now, me always feels too small and specific to be a dwelling place for God! How could I be taken this seriously?”

I don’t know how you’re messing up your identity, where exactly you are misplacing the center of who you are, to whom you belong, and your ultimate purpose. But you might try the more courageous thing of leaning into who God created you to be and where he has placed you.

Peace,

Allan

The Issues of Your Time

June 4, 2025 / / 0 Comments

From my lectionary readings this morning, a passage from Richard J. Foster’s Freedom of Simplicity:

“Pastors need to take courage and share boldly and tenderly. People need the truth. It does them no good to remain ignorant… Martin Luther is reported to have said,

‘If you preach the Gospel in all aspects with the exception of the issues which deal specifically with your time you are not preaching the Gospel at all.’ 

We can no longer allow people to engage in pious exercises that are divorced from the hard social realities of life. Nor can we tolerate a radical social witness that is devoid of inward spiritual vitality. Our preaching and teaching needs to hold these elements in unity.”

Peace,

Allan

Not Up to the Task

April 17, 2025 / / 2 Comments

The title of today’s post is about preachers on Easter Sunday, but it’s also an appropriate description of the Dallas Stars as they begin the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs the day after tomorrow. The Stars closed out the regular season in Nashville last night by losing their seventh straight game. It’s the longest losing streak in more than a decade for a team most considered favorites to represent the Western Conference in the Stanley Cup Finals.

They’re in a bad way right now. Through these dreadful seven games, the Stars have been outscored 34-18 and out-shot by an average of 36-26 per game. They got Tyler Seguin back last night after he’s missed almost five months following hip surgery, but they lost Jason Robertson for the last half of the game with a fluke knee injury.

I don’t think you can just flip a switch Saturday and immediately remedy everything that’s gone so wrong the past three weeks with the Stars’ defense, their power play, their penalty kill, and blowing third period leads. I think momentum means something heading into the playoffs, especially when you’re facing the dreaded and feared Avalanche.

I’m hoping Robo’s knee issue is minor and won’t limit him for the postseason. I’m also hoping that my attitude and expectations will improve between now and Saturday night’s playoff opener. Right now, none of it feels very good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reinhold Niebuhr is quoted as saying that he would always attend a “high church” on Easter Sunday where there would be great music but very little preaching. In his view, “No preacher is up to the task on Easter.” I think he’s probably right.

John Updike wrote a poem called “Seven Stanzas of Easter” that perfectly and beautifully captures every preacher’s frustration leading up to Easter Sunday. One of the lines is “Let us not mock God with metaphor and analogy / sidestepping transcendence / let us walk through the door.”

It is a waste of time to try to explain the resurrection of Jesus. Some things can’t be reduced to an explanation and are greatly diminished in the process of trying. The task on Easter is proclamation, not explanation. On Easter, we preachers should offer an invitation to walk through the door, into a brand new world, where the ultimate reality is not death and dying, but everlasting life in the God Almighty of love and grace who brought our Lord Jesus out of the grave.

Proclaim the resurrection–that’s what the apostles did. And that’s what we need to do Sunday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m really looking forward to our annual 4Midland Maundy Thursday service this evening, hosted this year by our brothers and sisters at First Methodist. We’re changing things up a bit tonight with more of a Tenebrae vibe than a Maundy Thursday vibe. We’re not sharing the communion meal, deciding instead to focus on the events following that last supper, from our Lord’s prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane, through the trials and the crucifixion, to his burial. The service will flow from the Scriptures, lots and lots of Scripture, punctuated with dramatic visual and audio effects to immerse us in the sacred story. The combined choirs of our four churches will bless us with some special music, but we’re also going to sing some old familiar hymns together like O Sacred Head, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, and Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross.

Anytime our four churches get together for worship or service, it’s a powerful witness to our city that our Lord lived, died, and was raised to eternal life to break down all the barriers between us and him and between us and one another. That will happen again tonight and it will be glorious. By God’s grace and his Holy Spirit, we’re also going to be drawn closer to our Lord this evening. And to each other.

If you live anywhere in the Permian Basin, I invite you to join us at 7:00 this evening at First Methodist in Midland.

I thank God for our 4Midland partnership, for the holy friendships I enjoy so much with these three pastors, and for the ways our churches are learning from one another and growing together in Christ.

Peace,

Allan

Magic Carpet Ride

January 23, 2025 / / 0 Comments

Okay, I’ve got a new little weird obsession that I’m really excited about. I am substituting the word “sermon” or “preaching” whenever I see the word “poem” or “poetry” and it is opening my heart to new ways of expressing what it’s like to be a preacher. The exhilarating anticipation. The tyranny of the Sunday sermon. The dread. The burden. The indescribable joy and blessing. The honor. The eternal power of the Word that is impossible to harness. The frustration. The surprise. Poetry and sermons have much in common, and so do those who write them.

I’ve come across a short poem from someone named Bill Knot. The poem is entitled “To Myself.” The first word is “poetry,” which I have changed to “preaching.”

Poetry
can be
that magic
carpet

which you say
you want,
but only
if you

stand willing
to pull
the rug out

from under
your own
feet daily.

Doesn’t this poem speak deeply to the sense of adventure there is in preaching? Yes. The mystery. The possibility. The certainty that your apple cart is going to get turned over without warning. The paradox of entering a sacred text hopeful for answers, only to come away with more questions. Continually feeling off balance. Daily.

Peace,

Allan

Poems (Sermons) Hide

January 7, 2025 / / 0 Comments

I was recently introduced to a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye entitled “Valentine for Ernest Mann.” I know nothing about the poet or the context of the poem or the title. But the poem struck me as important truth. It’s about poems and poetry but, more than that, it’s about life and living. It’s about perspective and intentionality. Oh, it’s good.

While reflecting on the truth contained in these short verses, I naturally thought about preaching. And sermons. I replaced the word “poem” in the composition with the word “sermon,” and the whole thing became more profound and much more personal.

Here it is, with my unauthorized substitutions. Where you see the word “sermon,” Nye used the word “poem.” Same thing, in many ways.

You can’t order a sermon like you order a taco.
Walk up to  the counter, say, “I’ll take two”
and expect it to be handed back to you
on a shiny plate.

Still, I like your spirit.
Anyone who says, “Here’s my address,
write me a sermon,” deserves something in reply.
So I’ll tell you a secret instead:
sermons hide. In the bottoms of our shoes,
they are sleeping. They are the shadows
drifting across our ceilings the moment
before we wake up. What we have to do
is live in a way that lets us find them.

Once I knew a man who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn’t understand why she was crying.
“I thought they had such beautiful eyes.”

And he was serious. He was a serious man
who lived in a serious way. Nothing was ugly
just because the world said so. He really
liked those skunks. So, he re-invented them
as valentines and they became beautiful.
At least, to him. And the sermons that had been hiding
in the eyes of the skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.

Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us,
we find sermons. Check your garage, the odd sock
in your drawer, the person you almost like, but not quite.

And let me know.

I pray this poem inspires you like it does me, to commit to “live in a way that lets us find” the sermons and the poems that are hiding all around us in plain sight.

Peace,

Allan

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑