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What an amazing thought that God wants to speak into your path — and He wants to speak into it in a way that would bring you the fullest life. He's not trying to cramp your style. He's trying to lead you to the fullest life.
He wants to disciple us — a word that slipped out the side door of the church a little while back. The word disciple means pupil. He wants to teach us, to show us. He wants to be our leader, and He's inviting us to follow Him.
He's not merely inviting us to show up at gatherings, although I love today. He's inviting us to follow His example, His footsteps, His teaching, His ways, His thoughts, His lifestyle, His destination, His priorities, His values.
"Come follow me, because I am the way, the truth, and the life."
I'm the way to the Father. I'm the way to what you want, what you need, what you were created for, what you long for, what you're looking for. I am the way.
That's not the only opportunity out there. A few weeks ago I asked ChatGPT this question: How does the algorithm control my life? Rather than having someone stand up here and explain it, let's just ask the machine.
Within a nanosecond it answered:
Algorithms control your daily life by acting as invisible digital curators that shape your habits, curate the information you see, and make automated decisions about your future. They influence what you buy, what you watch, how you work, and the opportunities you receive.
I highlighted a few of the core mechanisms it named:
In other words, the algorithm wants to disciple us. It wants to be our leader. It wants us to become the pupil of its design. It is staring us down every second of the day, and here's what we have to come to grips with: the algorithm knows what we like and what we want. So it feeds us us, and then pushes us further into us, in an attempt to convince us that that is the way, the truth, and the life.
If you're not on social media — congratulations, that's awesome. But you're still in the algorithm. Never watched Netflix? You're still in the algorithm. Your television knows more about you than you think. Your phone is listening to you. Why else, after you talked about canoes with your friend, did REI email you a coupon for a canoe — a blue one, just like you'd been talking about?
The world around us is attempting to lead us. That's why this summer collection is called Recommended For You — just like the platform you stream on will say, "Because you watched this, we think you'll want to watch this." Even a Delta seatback screen will eventually start telling you what to watch.
And so God is saying today: I would like to recommend to you the way to the fullest possible life.
Jesus said it this way in Matthew 5, where we were last week — talking about having a relationship with God that is real and authentic. Six different times in that chapter, Jesus helps us understand how the law of the Old Testament is transferred into a lifestyle in the New Testament:
"You have heard it said... but I say to you."
For example: you've heard that if you kill someone, you've murdered them. But I say to you, if you harbor hatred in your heart toward someone, it's just the same.
That's what He's doing in this collection. You've heard it said out there in the world, but I say to you. And today, I don't know how this is going to go. This may end up being the least-watched talk in the history of our church. Because here's what Jesus is recommending for you:
It's not about you.
The algorithm will never say that. The algorithm puts you center stage, in the epicenter of the orbit of life. But God is recommending something different — the unexpected path to the fullest and freest version of you.
Bear with me for a moment. I come from another generation, and I understand the one we're currently living in. What the culture — let's keep blaming the algorithm — wants to say is that your fullness, your freest self, is about self-help, self-care, self-improvement, self-actualization.
You used to walk into a large bookstore and find the Christian Living section — robust, but only this big. Then you'd turn the corner into the self-fill-in-the-blank section, and suddenly you're in a department store. Because most people didn't come looking to be discipled by Jesus. They came looking for a way to improve their self.
So when Jesus says, "I'm recommending to you that it's not about you," that is quite a different direction of the wind.
Now hear this clearly: making sure that we find the healing that is available to us in Christ, and the rest that being united with Him brings, is essential. Let me say that again — that is essential. We're not throwing that out the window. We're simply saying the pathway to fullness and freedom might surprise you.
You've heard it said that you must first take care of yourself. Maybe you say it out loud: my first goal is to take care of me. Or maybe you just live it out without articulating it. You wake up and go: How do I feel? What do I need? What do I think? What do I want? What are my options? And before we know it, we're in a loop of self.
But Jesus says: You've heard it said it's all about you — but I say to you, it's not about you.
During the government shutdown a few months ago, travel was terrible — four-hour TSA lines. I had a flight to catch and it wasn't going to work. But I knew someone, and the someone said, "I know a way."
They told me: meet me at the exit of the terminal — where you leave — not where you come in. Thousands of people were streaming into the entrance, certain that was the only way. But this person met me at the exit where not one single person was coming out.
For the next fifteen minutes it was mind-boggling. Elevators, double doors, a magic badge — swipe, swipe, swipe. A TSA checkpoint with nobody at it. Up, down, through the belly of the airport, out into baggage claim. "Just keep following me." Suddenly the door opened and I was standing at the gate, scanning my phone, getting on the plane.
What I learned that day is what God wants to set before us: sometimes the way to where you want to go is an unexpected way. It may look like everybody is going this way — but God says, "I know. There's another way. Meet me at the exit, and I'll show you the way."
This isn't new. Paul, at the very end of his life, writes to Timothy with marching orders for leading the newfound church:
"But mark this: there will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God — having a form of godliness but denying its power." (2 Timothy 3:1–5)
That was written over 2,000 years ago — no phones, no internet, no algorithm. Just hardwired from the fall in the garden to put ourselves at the center: How do I feel? What do I need? What do I think? What do I want?
And notice the worst part: they'll have a form of godliness but deny its power. They'll look right, but they won't have the power of God.
This is not a "sit down and shut up, nobody cares about you" message. It's radically freeing, because it tells us what we really long to hear: we are dearly loved and prized by God. Let me highlight a few thoughts.
It's amazing how down we can get on ourselves, how trapped in our own heads, how masterfully we get in our own way — and how stunningly we can live like paupers when we are written into the will of the King of Kings. How quickly we abandon the fullness orbit that revolves around Him and migrate to the full-less orbit that revolves around us.
Sounds like a paradox. But once you're fully on board with how blessed, valuable, loved, and prized you are, you can simply forget about self and move on in life. Paul wrote it this way:
"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves." (Philippians 2:3)
Notice he first tells the churches who they are — how rich, blessed, and new they are in Christ — and then says, "Now forget about self." Don't do anything motivated by How do I feel? What do I need? What do I think? What do I want? What are my options? Instead, consider others more important than yourself.
This talk is deeply challenging to me personally, and to anyone who really wants to follow God. I kept asking, What's a good example? And then it hit me — she's sitting right there. My wife is the example. She's not perfect — but imagine living with me for a couple of decades; that's perfecting for sure.
For over 40 years I've watched her constantly think of someone else, serve someone else, stand in the shadow and make a way for someone else. That could be said of every mom in this room, and so many dads. Time after time you've said, "If it were up to me, I'd do A through G — but I've got these two kids I'm committed to, and I'm going to do what's best for them." Not a hundred times, not a thousand — tens of thousands of times. That's the picture God wants us to see.
So while the world says put yourself at the center, Jesus says:
"Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me." (Matthew 16:24)
He didn't say, "If you want to come on the way, take care of yourself first." He said, "Deny yourself." Because self will always want the easy way, the me way, the it's-all-about-my-thoughts way. And you'll have to deny that — but I'll show you how.
A friend, in a tribute to America 250, said something beautiful and prophetic:
"Real freedom is not the liberty to do what we like, but the power to become what we ought."
That's what God is offering you and me today.
We have the opportunity to embrace our role in a kingdom story — to understand that it isn't about me, but I'm part of something great and I have a role to play. It's about the we of the kingdom and the we of the common good.
I've been reading the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, the amendments. I couldn't get over the opening: "We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union." You'd think in a nation known for individualism and self-expression, our very birth moment would begin with I. But it began with we. There is a power in the we that is greater than the me. That's what kingdom living is really about — not hating yourself, but understanding you're in a big story, the story of God, and we all have a role to play.
So succeed, do great, win, achieve — awesome. But kingdom.
Everybody's got World Cup fever right now. Have you ever heard people sing their national anthems as loud as in the last few weeks? Every nation trying to out-sing the others. When England played the DR Congo here in Atlanta, Harry Kane came through and saved the day. And what does he do? He runs to the corner, grabs his jersey, and kisses the crest. What is he saying? One of the greatest living footballers is saying, "We did it."
Footnote: many of these countries are in shambles — economies in the tank, inflation, broken systems. But there's a we underneath the current. We may not be perfect, but it's not all me — it's we. That is the mindset of a follower of Jesus. Yes, I knocked in the goal — but kingdom of God, glory of God, name of God, fame of God, Jesus first. That we mindset is getting lost to the algorithm of me.
Last week we talked about private lives versus public lives — how what happens in private ultimately fuels what happens in public. Jesus would steal away with the Father, disappearing so the disciples couldn't find Him. And yet He ultimately did the greatest thing ever done right out in public, at 3:00 in the afternoon.
Please don't email me, but He put a new spin on work-life balance. He didn't say, "I've got to be home by five." He said, "This is why I'm here." He put a new paradigm in play: love works. His private life, which He fought for, fueled His public obedience — the sacrifice that freed the world.
On June 6, 1944, 2,400 young men from our nation died on Omaha Beach. At the top of the bluff are 9,386 graves. There was a mindset of we and a willingness to deny self.
Jesus went on:
"For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in His Father's glory with His angels, and then He will reward each person according to what they have done." (Matthew 16:25–27)
The world keeps telling us: Save it. Protect it. Manage it. But God says: Give it away — that's where you'll find it.
When I was in high school and college I had a hero named Ian North. It'd be hard to even find much about him online today. He was an amazing missionary leader who ran an Atlanta-based organization that trained pastors in hard-to-reach countries — many where preaching the gospel could get you killed.
He was in the same church as me but hardly ever there, because he was always somewhere else in the world. Occasionally he'd preach, and sometimes I'd get a little time with him. At a retreat he invited me to, we talked for maybe thirty minutes, and I said, "Tell me the secret to life. Tell me the secret to you and Dorothy."
In his incredible Australian accent he said, "Well, our marriage got off to a very challenging start. My ministry was focused on the people of India, and it was imperative for me to be there, raising up churches and leaders. This was the 1950s — traveling back and forth was hard. So in the first two years of our marriage, we lived on different continents."
Did you hear that? Find that in a book. You'd think, "Man, he must have wrecked his family." But his kids — my age — are now leading the organization he founded, evangelists like their dad. Because they understood what he understood: the mission is mighty. The freest, fullest, best version of me does not come when the mission is me. It comes when I understand I'm part of a mighty mission — and sometimes it costs. But at the end of that cost is where life is found.
Of all the people I've known, fewer than five have been like Ian North. From my observation, he has very little regret in heaven — and a monstrous reward.
That used to be a normal message. Come to the altar. Surrender your life. Go to the nations. Get on your knees. Give sacrificially. Anyone old enough to back me up on that? I would go down to the front and say, "God, I surrender my life. Jesus, here I am — send me."
But over time the algorithm slid into the story, put us at the center of the orbit, and convinced us that comfort is where life is found. And it's robbing us blind of the opportunity to become the best version of us we could ever be.
God is recommending to you today — and to me: It's not about you.
Oh, you are prized and blessed more than you know. Don't get down on yourself today. But life comes when you lay it all down and say:
Amen.
