Last week I shared an account of an experience I had at age 14.

After my bedtime prayer, I said softly to myself, “Nobody heard me.”

Immediately, a voice clearly replied, “I heard you.”

I believe God spoke to me. But I asked you to say what you think.

There are three possible choices: 1) I am lying. 2) I am mistaken. 3) You believe me.

Six people said I was mistaken.

One replied: I believe you think you heard the voice, but I doubt that the voice was really there.

Another said: Sometimes our internal voice can seem like an outside voice. I heard such an answer to prayer once, back when I prayed. It startled me, but it’s not enough to make me believe in a god.

Fifty-one people said they believe me, and some shared their own stories.

One wrote: I was trying to decide what to do with my life after college. I was walking late at night and praying. A voice clearly spoke to me, saying, “Seek first the Kingdom of God.” I had hoped for something more specific. The same voice spoke again, “Seek first the Kingdom of God.”

Another wrote: I was leaving for work when a voice said, “Watch for a red car.” The message came three times because I ignored it the first two times. I said, “Ok, I’ll watch.” And a red car pulling a trailer almost ran me off the road.

I have many accounts like these last two. We are loved and watched over.

And God can speak to us in many ways.

Next time, I have another challenge for you.

Worship is at 11:00.

Give it a try.

Only 69% of Americans say they are Christian. Five percent are agnostic, 4% atheist, and 17% “nothing in particular.”

When belief was common, there was a lot of pressure to believe. Now, the pressure is off.

Truth is, many people simply don’t know what they believe and don’t trust the church to help them decide.

Have you decided what you believe?

Have you?

In the first articles of the new year, I will be pushing you to decide—beginning with a story I have told many times.

(Stick with me here.)

When I was 14, God spoke to me. (Do you believe that’s possible?)

I went to bed depressed and, it seems, a bit surly.

I prayed as I did every night, but then mumbled to myself, “Nobody heard me”—my first expression of doubt ever.

But my statement of doubt was followed by a response.

Immediately, a voice replied, “I heard you.”

The voice sounded in my head, but I looked around the room for the source.

Nobody there but me.

The voice was clear. I had no question about it. It shook me up at first. But then I felt the wonder of it.

I prayed. God answered.

In first person singular: “I heard you.”

But now, I want to know what you think. There are only three options. E-mail me with your choice.

You would say to me:

1. You are lying.
2. You are mistaken.
3. I believe you.

Be honest. Respond right now. I will give the results next week.

Please know, if you choose number 3, the implications are huge.

Some time back I asked you to let me know you were still reading this little box each Friday.

It’s an expensive project. I don’t want to keep talking if no one is there.

I got a big response—too many e-mails to answer, but I read them all. We have signed the contract with the Star-Telegram for 2025.

Thanks for your support.

The church in America is in trouble. It is time for honesty. The lies Christians tell turn thinking people away from faith.

The biggest lie is that the Bible is infallible. It isn’t. And anyone who can read knows this.

The value of the Bible is not in its perfection. The value is in the truth of its message. And the Bible is not all equally true.

Let’s stop pretending that the Book of Revelation has anything to do with Jesus. It doesn’t.

It is a book filled with blood and vengeance. It undermines Jesus at every turn. Preachers need to stop piously defending this vengeful work in defense of “the canon.”

“Oh, it’s in the canon. We must be true to the canon!”

No! It is time to be true to the teachings of Jesus—the unique teachings of Jesus.

And it is time for preachers to proclaim that uniqueness. I was in theology school for years. Not one of my teachers mentioned the uniqueness of the message of Jesus.

Jesus was the first person in all the world to tell us to love our enemies because God loves his enemies.

Jesus was the first person ever to get God right.

And you are in for another year of me pushing a God of unconditional love for all people.

Happy New Year!

Some of us know what is coming.

We have before us a time of incompetence and

corruption like nothing we have seen before.

Imagine a nation where those in power are not

constrained by morals or a sense of decency.

But I do have hope.

They are expressed in the lines of an old carol, I

Heard the Bells on Christmas Day:

“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep. The wrong

shall fail, the right prevail.”

We need to know this.

We need to be reminded of this. That’s why I am

singing those words in the concert Saturday night.

Listen, over these next years, we are going to need

the church.

No, not that right-wing bunch with a theology that

makes them ignorant and vulnerable to would-be

dictators.

They brought us here.

We need a church built on the solid rock

that is Jesus the Christ.

Built on His love.

Powered by His grace.

A church that triumphs over corruption, racism,

and hatred of gays and immigrants.

In this space in the coming year, I will be offering

you opportunities for worship and study.

I am expecting a response.

The “mainline” church—for want of a better

name—along with honest journalism will be the most

powerful lines of defense against the darkness to come.

Help us—help us at St. Matthew make a witness in

dark times.

We have a concert Saturday night, Dec. 21, at 6:00 p.m.

We have a beautiful Christmas Eve service, also

at 6:00 p.m.

Help us make a witness.

Yes, of course.

We will sing White Christmas at our concert on Saturday, Dec. 21, at 6:00 p.m.

We must.

It is expected.

In fact, I sing it. But I won’t mean it.

What kind of fool do you think I am? (Don’t answer that.)

I’m a preacher. I don’t want a white Christmas. I want people in church.

No bad weather!

I’d like to see you (and all your kin) at our concert and at our Christmas Eve service. (We call it “the most beautiful service of the year”—‘cause it is!)

But back to the concert.

I sing a couple of things, but our great singers do the hard lifting.

Our Christmas Concert is a 25-year tradition with us. The music starts secular and moves into the sacred.

Then we eat, and Santa comes by with gifts for the kids.

(No, we’re not anti-Santa at St. Matthew.)

There’s a kids’ time during the concert.

We do have fun.

The heart of Christmas at St. Matthew is Christmas Eve. (Also at 6:00.)

I had an aunt who used to say to people she loved, “I’m just so hungry to see you.” And I would say I’m hungry for Christmas Eve.

Especially this year.

We need those “glad tidings of great joy.”

We need lifting. We need to be reminded that this is still God’s world.

As the old carol says:

“God is not dead nor doth he sleep.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail.”

Oh!—I’m singing that, also, at the concert.

The Casting Crowns version of I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.

Come, if you can.

Sat., Dec. 21, at 6:00.