Why We Keep Finding a Better Way to Follow Jesus

In a previous blog we discussed different types of spiritual formation to help us sharpen our faith as followers of Jesus. You can find that entry HERE and HERE.

I’ve noticed an interesting pattern among followers of Jesus regarding these areas of spiritual formation. We discover an approach to a spiritual formation that seems to provide something we’ve been missing. In the beginning, we’re excited about this new discovery. We experience some vitality in our spiritual life. We discover some areas of our spiritual life that were neglected. It’s great!

But, then eventually we discover its weaknesses. Soon we become disappointed. And sometimes we begin looking down on the very thing that once helped us. But, then we discover something new and the process starts all over again. It can be exhausting!

“This Is What I’ve Been Missing”

John Mark Comer is an author who has recently become popular. Most of his writings are around monastic parts of our faith, so Comer is tapping into the part of the soul that feels hurried, exhausted, stressed, and anxious. Enter Comer!

There’s nothing inherently wrong about creating some structures to our life where we practice spiritual discipline of solitude, fasting and hearing from the Lord. It’s a consistent part of our faith throughout Scripture.

But give it a few years. Eventually those practices will start to feel like a normal part of our faith. Sometimes we mistake the energy of discovery for the power of the practice. And, it’s possible those practices could lose some of their vitality, so that over time we can get stuck in this cycle of jumping from one spiritual formation to the next and not actually growing in our faith.

Discovery Isn’t the Problem

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with discovering another Christian tradition. In fact, it can be incredibly healthy. Sometimes another part of the church has been preserving something our tradition neglected.

A doctrinal Christian might genuinely need to rediscover prayer. A revival Christian might genuinely need to rediscover ordinary faithfulness. A contemplative Christian might need to rediscover mission. A justice-oriented Christian might need deeper theological foundations. A relational Christian might need solitude. We should be able to learn from each other.

The problem isn’t discovering something new. The problem is the story we sometimes tell ourselves afterward. “I used to believe that because I was immature. Now I understand what Christianity is really supposed to be.” That’s where spiritual growth can quietly become spiritual pride.

We Rewrite Our Own Spiritual History

Instead of saying: “My doctrinal background gave me a deep love for Scripture, but I needed to grow in prayer and dependence upon the Spirit.” We say: “I grew up in dead evangelicalism or my revival background focused too much on experience and emotion.”

Instead of receiving something new as an addition, we use it as an indictment of what came before. Then something interesting happens. We compare the best version of our new discovery with the worst version of our previous tradition. Of course, the new thing wins. Until we stay around long enough to discover its problems too. Then the cycle begins again.

Spiritual Formation Can Become Something We Consume

I wonder if there’s something deeper happening. We can end up becoming consumers of spiritual formation itself. We’re constantly searching for the teacher, church, book, practice, experience, theology, podcast, or system that will finally produce the Christian life we’ve been looking for. And every new discovery gives us something…NEW!

New ways of understanding problems we’ve felt but couldn’t explain. For a while, it’s energizing. Then the novelty wears off. And eventually we’re left with the same basic problem: ourselves.

No approach to spiritual formation eliminates sin, suffering, unanswered prayers, disappointment and unanswered prayers. And none eliminates the painfully slow process of becoming more like Jesus. Eventually every system leaves us standing in front of the same invitation Jesus gave to His disciples, “Follow Me.”

Maybe This Is Part of Maturity

Maybe spiritual maturity includes reaching the point where I don’t have to destroy what came before in order to appreciate what I’m discovering now. I can say: “That formed something good in me. This is showing me something I was missing. And neither one is Jesus.” That’s a very different posture.

It allows us to receive something from Christians who emphasize things differently than we do without constantly reconstructing our entire faith around our latest discovery. Maybe spiritual maturity isn’t finally discovering the right spiritual formation system? Maybe it’s becoming mature enough to receive what different parts of the church have to teach us without believing each new discovery has finally solved Christianity?

Because eventually the novelty will wear off. The system will disappoint me. The people will disappoint me. The leaders will disappoint me. But, Jesus invitation will be the same, “Come to Me, follow Me.”

Every Approach to Spiritual Formation Has a Shadow Side

In a previous blog we discussed different types of spiritual formation to help us sharpen our faith as followers of Jesus. You can find that entry HERE.

But each spiritual formation also has something about it that can become unattractive.

The monastic approach offers something many of us desperately need: peace, depth, and intentionality. But taken too far, spiritual formation can begin to sound like lifestyle management.

Revival Christianity offers an emotional connection with God. God isn’t merely someone we study. He’s alive and actively moving in our life through answered prayers. That’s awesome! But taken too far, spiritual formation can be built around emotion and dramatic encounters with God.

Compassion and justice-centered Christianity reminds us that following Jesus should actually make a difference in how we treat suffering people. That’s desperately needed. But it can also turn spiritual formation into activism and political commitments.

Then there’s the doctrinal approach. This is probably the world I know best. Experience and action are important but we need truth, Scripture, and biblical thinking to guide our decisions. But there’s an obvious danger here too. We can become incredibly skilled at evaluating Christianity without becoming particularly skilled at living it.

Obedience to God’s Word is important, but it can also become mechanical. Sometimes we can even feel like we are just making a list of rules of what to do and not do, so that we forget the emotional / relational connection to Jesus.

Lastly, relational spiritual formation is probably the one that shapes our values the most at North Village Church. We love the idea of people getting to know one another, but it can be overwhelming to open up your life to someone at a deep level.

Every Path Eventually Costs Something

Maybe that’s what all these approaches ultimately have in common. At first, each offers something attractive.

The monastic tradition says, “Wouldn’t you like peace?”
Revival says, “Wouldn’t you like to experience God?”
Compassion and justice say, “Wouldn’t you like your life to matter?”
Doctrine says, “Wouldn’t you like to understand what’s true?”
Obedience says, “Wouldn’t you like to develop new habits?”
Relational says, “Wouldn’t you like to be genuinely known?”

But keep walking down any of those roads and eventually something changes. Eventually every serious approach to spiritual formation interferes with the life we would naturally choose for ourselves.

The problem isn’t ultimately finding the perfect spiritual formation system. The question is much simpler. Am I actually getting to know Jesus? And, am I helping someone else follow Jesus?

Am I actually getting to know Jesus?

And, am I helping someone else follow Jesus?

Because Jesus didn’t simply invite us to know more, experience more, serve more, or develop better spiritual habits. He said: “Follow me.” And I’m increasingly convinced that one of the best ways to do that is remarkably ordinary: Follow Jesus with other people. Then help someone else do the same.

Conclusion

Maybe the uncomfortable part isn’t always a sign that something has gone wrong? Maybe sometimes it’s the very place where spiritual formation is beginning to do its work.

Silence sounds great until I have to sit with what’s going on inside me. Experiencing God sounds great until I have to trust Him when I don’t feel anything. Compassion sounds great until loving someone costs me something. Knowing truth sounds great until Scripture confronts something I don’t want to change. Obedience sounds great until Jesus asks me to deny myself. Community sounds great until someone knows enough about me to ask a question I would rather avoid.

That’s when we’re tempted to look for something else. But maybe the goal isn’t to keep finding a form of Christianity that feels better. Maybe part of following Jesus is staying long enough for the uncomfortable parts to actually form us.

That doesn’t mean every approach is healthy or that we should never change. It simply means disappointment isn’t always evidence that we chose the wrong path. Sometimes it means we’ve finally reached the part where following Jesus costs us something.

Why Sunday Morning Worship Doesn’t Feel Like A Comedy Show

If you haven’t heard, I dabble in stand-up comedy in Austin, TX as a pastor. It’s been fairly common when other comics see me do well in a comedy set and win over a room they naturally assume I would bring that same style into Sunday morning. In fact, many of them have said, “If you did that on Sunday morning you would see a lot more people attending your church.” Maybe?

But my goal as a pastor isn’t trying to get a lot of people to attend on Sunday morning. My goal as a pastor is to invite people to be known relationally, so that together we can grow closer to Jesus and eventually help someone else do the same.

Types of Spiritual Formation

Different Christians are drawn to different ways of following Jesus.

Spiritual Formation	Invitation	Practical
Monastic	Less hurried / stress	Reordering life around Jesus
Revival	Experience	Encountering power around Jesus
Justice	Action	Extending care toward others
Doctrinal	Knowing Truth	Articulating a worldview
Obedience	Self-Denial	Dying to self, living to Jesus
Relational	Community	Being known, helping others do the same

Some Christians are drawn toward one approach more than others. It isn’t that one approach is wrong, and another is right. In fairness, most probably involve a little bit of all of them, but it was helpful to me to see them distinguished from one another.

The Cost of Being Known

There are strengths and weaknesses to all of these spiritual formations, but there is something unique to what we are trying to build at North Village Church. You can practice solitude anonymously, you can attend an incredible worship service anonymously, you can protest injustice anonymously, you can read theology anonymously, and you can deny yourself anonymously.

But it’s much harder to follow Jesus with someone who actually knows you. Because eventually they ask a question. And then they remember your answer. And then you are left in a space of, “What happens next?”

When that happens, our faith in Jesus starts to intersect with actual life on life and that is both incredibly attractive and incredibly uncomfortable. It is uncomfortable for the person being asked and it is uncomfortable for the person asking the questions because in my experience our lives don’t dramatically change overnight.

Instead we are all entering into a season of long-suffering with one another as we take multiple “one step forward, two steps back” throughout the life of these relationships. It involves multiple layers of confession, multiple prayers, and sometimes seasons of waiting when we don’t really understand what the Lord is doing in our lives.

The Cost of Knowing Someone Else

And Then It Gets Worse, because eventually spiritual formation at North Village Church isn’t only about people getting involved in our life. North Village Church is wanting to build up a church family that is interested in all of us helping someone else.

This is where our faith in Jesus isn’t only something we consume from others, but we start asking ourselves, “How can I pray, encourage, teach, support, and care for someone?” Someone walked beside me during a painful season, which is great! But also asking, “How can I do that for someone else?”

That’s where a relational approach to spiritual formation becomes “Jesus is doing something in me, and Jesus wants to do something through me.” We need both. Without the first, our faith in Jesus becomes an activity of; schedules, serving, and experiencing without necessarily becoming more like Jesus.

Conclusion

In the end, maybe my comedian friends are right? Maybe I could use some of what I’ve learned in comedy to create more energy on Sunday morning? There’s nothing wrong with that. But winning over a room and forming a people aren’t the same thing. One can happen in ten minutes. The other takes years.

Finding Community in a City Full of People

If you live around The Domain, you probably don’t have to go very far to be around people. You can walk through The Domain on a Saturday night and pass hundreds of people between restaurants, apartments, coffee shops, stores, and sidewalks.

You can live in an apartment building with people above you, below you, and across the hall, and still not know their names, so that Austin is full of people. But being around people isn’t the same thing as being known by people.

The Local Church

The same thing can happen at a local church. You can show up on Sunday, worship, listen to a message, grab some coffee, and head home without ever really finding your place. That’s one of the reasons serving on a Sunday morning can be so important.

It might look like you’re giving up precious hours that can be used for other areas of your life that need attention, but something else happens when you start showing up for other people: you start becoming part of a community.

Sometimes taking steps to grow spiritually starts with saying yes to a serving opportunity. It is taking a step of ownership in your faith that says, “This isn’t an observational experience. This is a personal investment in an area of my life that is important.”

Most people don’t start serving because they feel passionate about a specific area. In fact, one volunteer described being intimidated when she first started working with children because she was afraid she might say the wrong thing. But then she discovered something freeing: it’s okay not to know everything. She didn’t have to be an expert. She simply needed to be willing to show up, learn, and care about the kids in front of her.

Over time, something started to change. The children began recognizing her with smiles in the hallways. Parents began to engage her more naturally. She shared common experiences with other volunteers. Faces she might have passed with a polite “Good morning” on Sunday mornings became people she knew.

Serving once a month in a particular area didn’t just give her something to do. It gave her people to know, so that there is a difference between attending a worship service on a Sunday morning and being known.

That’s especially meaningful in a city like Austin. People move here for work. Young adults relocate for jobs with companies around The Domain and North Austin. Families arrive without extended family nearby, so that it’s easy for people to build a life here surprisingly quickly while taking much longer to build meaningful relationships.

Church can accidentally become another place we consume as another task to accomplish throughout the week. We find a service we like. We sit in a familiar section. We listen to a message we enjoy. And, we leave, only to get discouraged over time because we don’t feel like we are growing. But the church was never intended to simply be a crowd of people attending the same location at the same time. The local church at her heart is a family. And families know one another.

One technical volunteer described how serving changed his experience of worship: it wasn’t just about what he got out of Sunday morning but what he was able to offer on Sunday morning.

Counting the Cost

Of course, serving costs something. There will be Sundays when you’d rather sleep longer. Sundays when brunch sounds better. Sundays when you arrive at church and think, I really don’t want to do this today. That’s natural!

But serving others doesn’t something to our soul. It reminds us, even briefly, about the needs of others. In that moment, we stop thinking only about what we need and start noticing the people God has placed around us.

And in a city that constantly invites us to ask, “What do I want to do today?”, following Jesus invites us to ask a different question: “Who can I serve today?” We don’t have to serve the whole city. We don’t have to know everyone at church. We don’t even have to feel particularly gifted. Maybe we just start with one yes? Maybe it starts with learning someone’s name? Maybe it starts with sharing a little of your story? And somewhere along the way, you may discover that you didn’t just find a place to serve. You found a place to belong.

I Have a Hard Time Enjoying the Odyssey

I went to see The Odyssey expecting to watch The Odyssey. That might have been my first mistake. I knew Christopher Nolan wasn’t going to put Homer on the screen word for word. That’s not how movies work. I get that and I am fine with that, but somewhere during the movie I realized I wasn’t simply watching Homer’s story. I was watching Christopher Nolan have a conversation with Homer’s story.

And apparently, I’m the annoying guy sitting a few rows back wanting to raise my hand and say, “I’m sorry, but Homer didn’t say that.” Maybe it’s my age. I’m 51. I’ve lived in Austin long enough to watch this city grow into the global city it is today, and I’ve lived long enough to recognize some of the cultural conversations happening around me.

Modern Values, Ancient Texts

When Penelope talks about how men keep talking about an empty throne when she has essentially been ruling for twenty years, I don’t just hear Penelope. I hear 2026 moral values being pushed into a movie.

In that moment, the screenwriter is using a contemporary conversation about women, power and recognition placed into the mouth of an ancient character. The same thing happens with Odysseus and the Trojan Horse. Homer certainly presents Odysseus as emotionally affected by the Trojan War. But his cunning isn’t something he’s ashamed of in the original story. It’s part of what makes Odysseus a heroic story we still talk about today.

Nolan gives us something different in 2026. His Odysseus carries the Horse more like a moral burden he must overcome, which is interesting but not exactly Homer. It’s fine if Nolan wants to create a movie that addresses cultural conversations of 2026, but it feels manipulative to attach those values to an ancient story.

My Moral Dilemma

When I’m reading an old book, listening to someone explain the Bible, or hearing someone describe an historical event, my first question is usually something like, “But what did they mean originally?” I want to understand someone within their own categories before importing mine. Apparently, I want filmmakers to do that too. As you can imagine, my wife loves watching movies with me.

In the End

For me, I love stories that allow me to discover what they’re saying. I like realizing ten minutes later, “Oh. That’s what that meant.” But when a character in an ancient story suddenly starts articulating an idea that sounds remarkably similar to a conversation we’re having on social media in Austin right now, I stop seeing Penelope. I get taken out of the moment and the magic of movies is broken!

And maybe that’s the distinction I’ve been missing. My frustration isn’t simply that The Odyssey changed things from Homer. Every adaptation changes things. It’s that Nolan has made a revisionist adaptation of a classical epic.

He doesn’t merely ask, “How can I put Homer’s story on a movie screen?” Instead there are moments he’s asking, “What if we reconsider what Homer thought was heroic?” It’s like, “C’mon Nolan, go make up your own story instead of ripping off Homer.”

A Good Husband Makes His Wife Happy?

I live in Austin, TX and Austin has slowly become the wedding capital of Texas over the years. It might be vineyard in the hill country, a room at the Westin downtown or a bachelorette party at the Domain on a Saturday, but it is pretty common to see wedding events in Austin.

Over the years, I have noticed an increasing pattern of either young man avoiding marriage or feeling overly responsible for loving their wife in marriage. After all, is it possible to love your wife too much?

I am sure it is a version of marriage that sounds beautiful until you realize no human being could possibly pull it off. A husband loves his wife. He sacrifices for her by noticing what she needs. If she wants to talk about her day, he makes himself available to talk about her day. Or, if her car breaks down at 10pm, he gets out of bed and goes to get her. It’s called marriage!

But somewhere along the way, I think we’ve taken that beautiful picture of sacrificial love and added another expectation: a good husband makes his wife happy. But, those aren’t the same thing. And I wonder if the distinction matters more than we realize, particularly for young men trying to imagine marriage.

Marriage Is Going to Cost You

There is no version of a healthy marriage that doesn’t involve sacrifice. The Apostle Paul tells husbands to “love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” That’s an incredibly high calling.

Sometimes loving your wife means getting out of bed when you’re tired. And, sometimes it means listening when you’d rather solve the problem. And presumably the wife is learning to love sacrificially too.

The problem comes when sacrificial love quietly becomes responsibility for someone else’s happiness. Those are very different assignments. Imagine a husband and wife disagree about a major financial decision. She wants to buy the house. He doesn’t think they can afford it. He listens to her and takes the conversation serious, but when he looks at the numbers he isn’t comfortable moving forward. This isn’t being dismissive or controlling. This is being involved in a marriage and there is a possibility the wife will be disappointed.

What Does A Husband Do with That?

I think a lot of men have absorbed the idea that her disappointment means something has gone wrong. But there is another possibility. It’s the possibility that a husband can love his wife faithfully and at the same time she can still be disappointed.

A spouse being disappointed isn’t necessarily evidence of failure. The same is obviously true in reverse. That’s what happens when two actual human beings get married. This isn’t an argument for indifference. It’s an argument for realistic expectations that can go the distance to “Till Death Do Us Part?”

Marriage means your spouse’s happiness matters deeply to you. But caring about someone’s happiness and being responsible for someone’s happiness aren’t the same thing. One produces compassion. The other can produce anxiety. If I believe my job is to make my wife happy, then every negative emotion becomes a referendum on my performance.

Young Men Feel This More Than We Realize

I wonder whether this is one small part of why marriage can seem intimidating to some young men. Listen to everything we tell a young man a good husband should be; provide, protect, lead, sacrifice, communicate, emotionally mature, supportive, helpful, engaged, romantic, faithful, growing as a person and remembering every calendar event.

Again, almost everything on that list is good. But now add, “And make sure she’s happy at all times.” It’s an impossible assignment, because eventually she won’t be happy. She’s human! There will be seasons when she’s discouraged. And, at some point in the marriage, there will be things she wants that they can’t afford. The husband might try to solve some of those problems, but eventually there will be problems he can’t solve. That’s true in every meaningful relationship.

The Goal in Marriage Isn’t Happiness. It’s Faithfulness.

There’s an equally important message here for women. Your husband cannot carry the responsibility for your emotional well-being, and you cannot carry his. Marriage isn’t two people constantly monitoring each other’s happiness and adjusting themselves accordingly. It’s two people learning to love each other faithfully.

Sometimes that produces incredible happiness, and sometimes it means getting up in the middle of the night because the other person needs you. But, the question in that moment isn’t necessarily: “How do I make this feeling go away?”

Instead, the better question is: “What does faithfulness look like right now?” That’s a much more sustainable vision of marriage. My wife and I have been married 27-years, and I am increasingly convinced the desire for my wife to be happy has to sit underneath something more important than me.

When Our Neighborhood Schools Struggle, What Does It Mean to Love Our Neighbor?

Texas released its 2026 A–F school accountability ratings this week, and there was some encouraging news for Austin ISD. The district received an overall B rating, and many individual campuses performed well.

But here in 78757, the news hits a little closer to home. Burnet Middle School received an F rating for the fifth consecutive year. Webb Middle School received the same rating. Under Texas law, those results trigger state intervention that could ultimately include closing the campuses or replacing Austin ISD’s elected board with a state-appointed board of managers.

For those of us who live, work, worship and raise families in north central Austin, it would be easy to see this as simply an Austin ISD problem. But Burnet Middle School isn’t somewhere else. It’s right across the street from where we meet as a church family.

The students walking into Burnet Middle School are part of the same community we call home. And I think it’s possible to care deeply about those students while also asking difficult questions about how we got here, because caring doesn’t mean ignoring responsibility.

RAISING CHILDREN IN AISD

Our family spent more than a decade in Austin ISD. Over those years, we watched families leave for charter schools, private schools and other educational options. At different points, when I had the opportunity, I shared with administrators some of what I was hearing from parents and students about why they were leaving.

I didn’t always get the sense that those concerns were taken seriously. Obviously, the challenges facing Austin ISD are more complicated than any one explanation. Austin is changing. There are fewer school-age children in some parts of the city. School funding is complicated. The pandemic accelerated enrollment losses. Charter and private schools have created additional competition.

But at some point, leadership also has to ask why families who once chose AISD stopped choosing it. AISD now serves just over 69,000 students, more than 14,000 fewer than it did a decade ago. That’s not something we should celebrate. And it shouldn’t simply become another opportunity for people on different sides of the education debate to say, “See, I told you so.”

ACCOUNTABILITY AND COMPASSION

Instead, maybe moments like this require two things that we sometimes have difficulty holding together: accountability and compassion. Accountability asks, “How did we get here?” Compassion asks, “What do we do now?” We need both. An F tells us something important about academic performance. It doesn’t tell us everything about the people inside the building.

There are teachers walking into classrooms every morning trying to help students learn. There are parents trying to figure out how to help their children succeed. There are administrators carrying enormous responsibility.

And there are middle school students trying to navigate all the normal awkwardness of being 12 or 13 years old while also facing significant academic challenges. Those students didn’t make the decisions that brought Austin ISD to this point.

Neither did the teacher standing in front of them on Tuesday morning. So, perhaps the question for those of us living in 78757 isn’t simply: whose fault is this? Maybe there’s another question we can ask as a follower of Jesus? What does faithfulness look like now?

WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?

Jesus was once asked a fairly straightforward question: “Who is my neighbor?” His response was the story we now call the Good Samaritan. What’s interesting is that Jesus doesn’t spend much time explaining why the man was lying beside the road. He turns our attention toward the people who see him and asks what they’re going to do about it.

Loving our neighbor doesn’t require us to pretend bad decisions don’t have consequences. Compassion doesn’t require us to excuse poor leadership. And accountability doesn’t require us to stop caring about the people affected by it. We can do both. We can expect institutions to listen, learn and change. And we can move toward the people who are struggling right now.

At North Village Church, we’ve been asking a question lately: who are we becoming as a church family? I think moments like this give us an opportunity to answer that question. We want to become people who notice. People willing to ask hard questions without becoming cynical. It’s hard!

There will be plenty of conversations in the coming months about Austin ISD, the Texas Education Agency, school choice, funding and who bears responsibility for what has happened. Those conversations matter. But we don’t have to resolve every one of them before deciding what kind of neighbors we’re going to be in 78757.

WANT TO HELP?

We are in process of seeing how we can be helpful as a church family. It’s not the kind of help that will turn everything around overnight, but it is the kind of help to do something. If you would like to be involved with time or financial donation, email admin@northvillagechurch.com to get involved.

How Is Preparing For A Comedy Set Different than Preparing for a Sermon?

People often ask me which is harder: preaching a sermon or performing stand-up comedy. The answer depends on the week. Both involve standing in front of people with a microphone. Both require preparation. Both involve reading a room. Both involve ideas bring presented to an audience. But they are still both very different. Here’s what preparation looks like for each.

Preparing A Sermon: Start With The Text

When I prepare a sermon, I don’t begin with what I want to say. I begin with what God has already said. I’ll spend hours reading a passage over and over, looking for repeated themes, structure, historical background, theological connections, and how the passage fits into the larger story of Scripture.

Then, I ask, “What’s the main idea of the passage?” This main idea becomes the thread of the sermon that I want to pull throughout the sermon as I go verse by verse through the passage. Now, every story, application, and transition needs to serve the thread of the passage. After I identify the thread to pull throughout the sermon I generally use these 4-parts in every sermon:

What is the hook of the passage? Why should someone listen? What difference does the passage make in our lives practically?
Where is the tension of the passage? Where will people object? Why will they object? When will they push back?
Where is the gospel in the passage? The goal isn’t to leave with a moral code to accomplish. The goal is to see how Jesus rescues us from the weight of the passage so that He is our hope.
How does the passage lift our eyes to a greater vision? It might be the vision of our church family or our personal lives but I want to draw out the vision of the passage?

Preparing Comedy: I Still Start With A Biblical Idea.

My comedy doesn’t start with a passage in God’s Word, but it does start with biblical ideas. They are just packaged differently. In a sermon, the idea is front and center, but in comedy the idea is smuggled in so the audience never sees it. In fact, my main goal is for the audience to feel like they discovered the biblical ideas on their own. I am not sure I am always able to accomplish this goal in comedy, but that is my end goal.

It doesn’t mean my jokes are “Christian jokes.” It means the moment I let the audience know I am a pastor I am shaping the lens by which they hear everything. It means there is a biblical layer running quietly beneath the entire set.

First, I identify a biblical idea like marriage, money, faith, parenting, etc. Then, I look for inconsistencies in those areas in my life or in our culture. What’s bothersome? What’s frustrating? What’s discouraging?

After that, I want to look for the tension, so that I can create tension for the audience on some level, because laughter comes out of tension. Telling the audience at a comedy club that I am a pastor in the first 10 seconds of being on the stage creates tension.

Next, I start writing out those ideas to create a surprise or a turn for the audience. They know the idea. They are a little uncomfortable with the tension. Then you try to release the tension with a surprise. It’s really hard!

Most of the time I can write all I want but at some point I have to get up at an open mic and see how those words land on an audience. I will show up with 3-minutes of ideas and it’s a success if I can leave with 30 seconds of something that might be funny.

That’s one of the humbling parts of comedy. I may spend an hour writing three minutes, only to discover the audience liked one sentence. Then I go back, rewrite, perform it again, and hopefully build something worth keeping.

The Biggest Difference

In a sermon, I deliver one time. In comedy I will deliver an idea 30 times and maybe on the 50th time I start to see the timing that will make it funny. In a sermon, I don’t always know what lands, but in comedy I know immediately. When I preach, my responsibility is faithfulness to the passage. When I do comedy, my responsibility is to connect with the audience. Those are very different scorecards.

The Biggest Similarity

Oddly enough, both require a deep love for people. If I don’t understand what people fear…What they’re hoping for…What they’re frustrated by…What they’re ashamed of…I’ll struggle in both worlds.

Good preaching applies timeless truth to real people. Good comedy exposes real people to timeless truths about themselves. Both begin with careful observation.

Why I Love Doing Both

Well, sometimes I hate both of them. It can be agonizing to work on something over and over, and then not have the satisfaction of those ideas connecting. But, on Sunday mornings I hope people leave seeing Jesus more clearly. In a comedy show, I hope people leave laughing a little harder at life, and maybe the ideas in the comedy will linger a little longer. Because both remind me that people are searching for hope.

Sometimes hope comes through hearing God’s Word. Sometimes it begins with laughing at ourselves. And every once in a while, those two worlds unexpectedly meet. Those are my favorite moments.

Are You a Christian… or a Disciple? What’s the Difference?

Seems like a lot of people in the United States and parts of the world would identify themselves as “Christians.” But when we read throughout Scripture we don’t see Jesus calling us to be Christians. He calls us to be His disciples. At first glance those sound like the same thing. Biblically, they are. Every Christian is a disciple. Every disciple is a Christian. But I don’t find it helpful to tell people I am a Christian. Instead I tend to tell people I am a follower of Jesus.

The word Christian only appears three times in the New Testament. It was originally used by outsiders to identify the followers of Jesus.The word disciple appears over and over again. It was Jesus’ favorite description of those who followed Him. Today, “Christian” can mean almost anything. Someone might say they’re Christian because they grew up in church. Others because they vote a certain way. And, others because they believe in God or try to be a good person. The label has become so broad that it often tells us very little, because a disciple of Jesus carries specific characteristics.

Am I actually following Jesus?

That’s the invitation Jesus gave from the very beginning, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Everything we need to know about discipleship is wrapped up in that invitation, “Follow Me.” A disciple of Jesus is intentionally looking to follow Jesus with the whole of their life; financially, sexually, relationally, emotionally, mentally, physically, It doesn’t mean you are 100% following Jesus in those areas but you are intentionally looking for ways you can grow and get stronger at following Jesus in those areas, so that following Jesus isn’t adding Him to our lives. It’s making Him Lord of our lives.

Then Jesus says something else in that invitation, “And I will make you.” That’s encouraging because discipleship isn’t ultimately about self-improvement. Jesus never says, “Go fix yourself.” He says, “Follow Me, and I will transform you.” Our responsibility isn’t the transformation. Our responsibility is the faithfulness. That’s good news because all of us have areas where we still need to grow. None of us graduate from becoming more like Christ.

Then Jesus finishes off the statement, “Fishers of men.” In other words, disciples don’t stop with themselves. As Jesus changes us, He sends us, so that every disciple has been entrusted with receiving His grace and extending His grace toward others to help them follow Jesus. The only reason there are followers of Jesus today is because someone was following Jesus then! That’s always been the mission.

There’s one other piece we often overlook.

Jesus rarely discipled people one at a time. He called a group of friends. It might start with one, but it will typically involve a group coming together. They learned to follow Jesus together. That matters because we weren’t designed to grow alone. Following Jesus in isolation almost always leads to spiritual stagnation.

We need people who know us well enough to encourage us, challenge us, pray for us, and remind us of the gospel when we forget it ourselves. I experienced this personally in my twenties. I ended up at a university with a church that took the call of discipling others who disciple others who disciple others seriously. I read the book “Master Plan of Evangelism” by Robert Coleman and was hooked! Looking back, it changed the direction of my life.

Men and women in the church started to teach me and model to me what it looked like for the whole of someone’s life to come under the leadership of Jesus. They helped me learn how to study God’s Word. They helped me find words to talk to others about Jesus. I work as a pastor now, but that wasn’t the goal at the time. It was just the men and women living out what Jesus has taught us to do from the very beginning.

So let me ask you a question, “Do you see yourself as a Christian or a disciple?” Because those two words may sound similar, but they often produce very different ways of living. A disciple wakes up asking, “How do I follow Jesus today?”

How can Jesus keep changing them?
Who are others I can encourage to follow Jesus?
Where can I surround myself with others who are following Jesus?

That’s the life Jesus invited ordinary men and women into two thousand years ago. And it’s still the invitation He extends today. So ask yourself: Have I actually committed myself to following Jesus? Who is helping me grow? Am I allowing Jesus to change me, or am I simply trying to become a better version of myself? Who am I helping take one step closer to Christ? Because, Jesus never invited people to admire Him from a distance. He invited them to follow Him. And that invitation is still drawing people to Himself today!

3 Things I Learned Competing in Austin’s Funniest Comics 2026

A few months ago, I signed up for a comedy competition with 250 comedians in Austin at Capital City Comedy Club in the Domain. That means 250 people were trying to accomplish the exact same thing I was, make people laugh.

Stand-up comedy has a funny way of exposing you. It’s just you and a mic on a stage. The lights are bright. You can’t really see the audience. People are seated at your feet. And, everyone is there with an attitude like, “Make me laugh!”

When you do stand-up comedy there’s nowhere to hide. Every word, every breath, every pause, and every facial expression counts. There’s no PowerPoint to blame on technical difficulties. It’s just a room full of strangers deciding in real time whether you’ve earned another minute of their attention. As I walked away from my set, I realized I had learned lessons that have very little to do with comedy and almost everything to do with life.

1. You Don’t Have to Beat Everyone

You just have to do your job: When I first heard there were 250 comedians competing, it felt overwhelming. How do you compete with that many people? Then I remembered something important. I wasn’t performing against 250 comedians that night. I was performing in front of one audience. My job wasn’t to be better than everyone else. My job was to deliver the best 4 minutes I was capable of delivering. That’s true in almost every area of life. We spend so much energy looking sideways as we comparing careers, churches, businesses, social media, and accomplishments, that we forget our actual assignment. Comparison creates anxiety because it asks us to control outcomes we never could. But, preparation creates confidence because it focuses on what we actually can control.

Whether you’re leading a company, raising kids, preaching a sermon, or stepping on stage, your responsibility is the same: Prepare. I can’t control how audiences are going to respond. But I can work out those 4-minutes! I can run through those 4-minutes. I can imagine how the audience is going to respond. I can watch the audience as they prepare for the show. I can imagine how they might respond. I can prepare!

Failures Compound Faster Than Big Breakthroughs

The majority of laughs I got that night were from moments where jokes didn’t work, audiences didn’t respond, and timing was off. Each of those failures is an opportunity to improve. Do words need to change? I can swap the order. Where can I cut?

In sermons and comedy, most people just assume I am quick on my feet talking about topics off the top of my head. Not even close. The four minutes last night have been delivered 50 times over the last two-years and every miss was an opportunity to make it better.

Confidence Comes From Evidence, Not Optimism

Some comedians seem to not care if an audience laughs. I need the audience to laugh. It isn’t because I need them to like me. I want to get on the same page with the audience and if they are laughing at what I think is funny it tells me, “We’re all hearing the same thing.”

Before I get called up to a stage I can feel my heart beating in my chest. I am flooded with these thoughts like, “Why am I doing this to myself?” The only thing that quiets that voice is my faith in Jesus that give me the courage to pursue this area of my life and evidence that people have found these bits funny.

Real confidence isn’t pretending you’re not nervous. It’s remembering you’ve done difficult things before. I’ve found that to be true in comedy, leadership, and faith. Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s trusting what you’ve already learned enough to take the next step anyway.

One Final Thought

Competitions have winners and losers. But life isn’t a competition. Sometimes in life there are going to be moments where we advance and there are going to be moments when the fruit of the hard work doesn’t materialize.

Success in life isn’t about advancing. Success in life is about learning and discovering that you’re far more capable than you thought you were six months ago. For me, I’m grateful I advanced to the next round, but I’m even more grateful for what the process taught me. Because long after this competition is over, those lessons will still be shaping the way I live, lead, and step onto the next stage.

The Danger of Uncertainty

If you’ve ever driven around the Domain in Austin, you know how quickly things can change. One week there’s a new apartment complex going up. The next week another restaurant closes. Tech companies are hiring, then laying off. Traffic patterns change, so that sometimes morning traffic is at 7:30am and sometimes 9:30am. What?

Last Sunday, I stood in front of our church family, a church by the Domain in Austin, and realized we were living through one of those seasons. We are in the midst of a ton of questions. Where are we going to meet? How is this all going to work financially? New positions on staff are need and just like in any church, we need men and women who are taking ownership beyond attending on Sunday morning.

In addition, how do we stay focused on our vision as a church family in the midst of uncertainty. The temptation to give into apathy and indifference is off the charts. After all, what does it matter? This is the voice that echoes through our church family right now. You can feel it on a Sunday morning. It’s palpable! As the elders of our church family, we know we don’t have all the answers. The people in our church family know we don’t have all the answers. And, like most people, our first instinct in the midst of uncertainty is to find certainty!

“If I just knew what was going to happen…”
“If I could just get an answer…”
“If I knew how this relationship would turn out…”
“If I knew whether this job was going to work…”

Then I’d finally have peace, confidence, clarity and everything would be great! But that’s not what Scripture teaches. In Genesis 3, Adam and Eve didn’t lack information. They had everything they needed. They knew God. They walked with Him in the cool of the garden as friends. Can you imagine?

But something changed in their story. It wasn’t the information they possessed about God and one another. It was the uncertainty that entered the conversation when the serpent asked one simple question: “Has God really said…?” That question wasn’t about gathering information. It’s not like the serpent was genuinely wondering, “What has God said?” He knows! Instead the serpent was introducing uncertainty into the conversation.

Uncertainty Shapes Us

Here’s what struck me while studying Genesis 3. The greatest danger wasn’t that Adam and Eve had unanswered questions. The greatest danger was that uncertainty began shaping their relationship with God. That’s still true today. When uncertainty goes unchecked, we begin asking different questions.

“Can I really trust God?”
“Is He holding out on me?”
“Does He actually know what’s best?”
“Is He paying attention?”

The circumstances haven’t changed yet, but our hearts have started to look for something else in life to find stability. This is where the spiritual fight for our faith in Jesus goes live! The serpent never showed up with overwhelming power. He showed up with words and suggestions about truth.

He didn’t immediately tell Eve to rebel against God. Instead, he simply nudged her toward uncertainty. That’s how deception usually works. Rarely does it ask us to abandon everything overnight. Instead, it slowly erodes trust.

One conversation.
One thought.
One assumption.
One compromise at a time.

Responding to Uncertainty

One of the fascinating details in Genesis 3 is that Eve begins subtly changing what God actually said. God began with generosity in Genesis 2, “You may freely eat from every tree…” By the time Eve repeats God’s command, the emphasis on God’s generosity has disappeared. She even adds restrictions God never gave. That’s what uncertainty often does. It magnifies what we’ve lost while minimizing what we’ve been given. Uncertainty creates fear that becomes louder than gratitude.

In a city like Austin, it can give us this illusion of certainty. Tech companies keep moving into the city. Exotic cars keep appearing. We are surrounded by wealth and education in the capitol of Texas! It feels pretty certain! But it just takes a moment and any of those “certain” areas of life can change in a second. And, deep down, we know those areas of life are unstable and unreliable. Therefore, the goal isn’t to eliminate uncertainty in life. That’s impossible! The better question is, “Who am I becoming while I walk through uncertainty?”

This is critical because fear produces one kind of person. It’s the kind of person that gets wrapped up with insecurity. Fear stirs up passivity. Fear causes us to spend energy on something that might never happen. But, when we are in a place of trust it produces a different kind of a person. When we are layered in trust we will move toward people. We are clear in our thinking. One is controlled by outcomes, the other has a foundation.

The Gospel Speaks Into Our Uncertainty

Genesis 3 doesn’t end with Adam and Eve hiding forever. God comes looking for them. Read that last sentence again, “God comes looking for them.” That’s the gospel! Long before Adam and Eve searched for Him, He searched for them. Read the chapter for yourself and see. It’s amazing!

That story ultimately points to Jesus. Where Adam and Eve hid, Jesus stepped forward. Where they tried to cover their own shame, Jesus covered ours through His death and resurrection. The gospel isn’t simply that God gives us answers. The gospel is that God gives us Himself. That changes everything. Because certainty has never been found in perfect circumstances. It’s found in the unchanging character of God.

The future will still be unclear. Our economy will still fluctuate. Relationships will disappoint if we give them enough time. But the invitation of Jesus remains the same as He calls us to know Him, trust Him, follow Him, and invite others to do the same. Because, sometimes faith isn’t knowing exactly where you’re going, sometimes faith is knowing Who you’re walking with on the journey.

Praying for the Decision and to Become Someone Who Makes Wise Decisions.

Austin is full of people trying to optimize their lives. Which neighborhood should we move to? Should I leave my startup? Should we have another child? Should I buy the house or keep renting? Should I stay in Texas?

I think we should pray about every one of those decisions. Scripture tells us to bring everything before God in prayer. Our decisions matter to Him because our lives matter to Him. But over the years, I’ve realized there’s another prayer that is just as important.

“Lord, make me into the kind of man who makes wise decisions.”

Those two prayers belong together. One seeks God’s guidance. The other seeks God’s transformation. I think God delights in answering both. Here are some guiding points to consider:

1. Pray for wisdom.

When God invited Solomon to ask for anything, Solomon didn’t ask for success, security, or certainty. He asked for wisdom. That wasn’t an accident. Life is full of decisions where the answer isn’t immediately obvious. Parenting, marriage, work, finances, friendships, ministry, and leadership all require wisdom. James tells us that if we lack wisdom, we should ask God because He gives generously. Before asking God to remove every difficult decision, ask Him to make you wiser.

2. Pray for humility.

One of the greatest obstacles to wise decisions isn’t a lack of information. It’s pride. Pride convinces us we’ve already thought through every angle. Pride dismisses the people God has placed around us. Pride hears advice but rarely listens. Proverbs reminds us that wise people receive instruction. As you pray about a decision, ask God to give you the humility to hear what you may not want to hear.

3. Pray for a clean heart.

It’s amazing how quickly sin can distort our judgment. Unforgiveness, jealousy, selfish ambition, fear, and hidden pride all have a way of making bad ideas sound reasonable. David prayed, “Search me, O God.” That’s a dangerous prayer. But it’s also a necessary one. Before asking God which path to take, ask Him if there’s anything in your heart that’s preventing you from seeing clearly.

4. Pray for a renewed mind.

Every decision begins with the way we think. Romans 12 says we’re transformed by the renewing of our minds so that we can discern God’s will. The more our minds are shaped by Scripture, the better equipped we are to recognize what is wise, loving, and honoring to Christ. God doesn’t simply want to change our circumstances. He wants to change the way we think.

5. Pray for discernment.

Many of life’s hardest decisions aren’t between right and wrong. They’re between two good options. That’s why Paul prayed that believers would “discern what is best.” Discernment is the ability to recognize not only what is permissible, but what is most helpful, most loving, and most faithful. It’s a gift worth praying for.

6. Pray about the decision itself.

After all of that, don’t stop praying about the decision. Tell God exactly what’s on your mind. Ask Him for clarity. Ask Him to open and close doors. Ask Him for peace. Ask Him to direct your steps. Our Heavenly Father invites us to bring every concern to Him, including the decisions that keep us awake at night.

Prayer isn’t about informing God. It’s about walking with Him. The older I get, the more I believe every decision is accomplishing two things at once. It’s shaping my future. But it’s also shaping me. That’s why I never want my prayers to stop with, “Lord, what should I do?” I also want to pray, “Lord, who am I becoming?”

Conclusion

Because one day this decision will be behind me. But the kind of man I’m becoming will remain, so pray about the decision and then pray that God would make you into the kind of person who consistently makes wise decisions.

Anyone who has driven MoPac or I-35 during rush hour knows there isn’t always a perfect route Sometimes Waze sends you through neighborhoods you’ve never heard of. Sometimes you stay on the Lamar. Sometimes every option is slow.

Life feels like that, too. God doesn’t promise to remove every difficult decision. But He does promise wisdom for those who ask, peace for those who trust Him, and His presence wherever the road leads. So pray about the decision. But don’t stop there. Pray that, wherever you end up, you’ll become the kind of man or woman who reflects Jesus a little more than you did before the journey began.

Leading Through Uncertainty

There are moments when leadership isn’t about having the answers. It’s about creating space for people to hear from God. A few months ago, our church found ourselves in one of those moments.

Our lease was ending. The rent on our building was increasing from $13,000 a month to $17,000. We knew we weren’t going to sign another long term lease. That meant we had a decision to make: Was North Village Church coming to an end, or was God inviting us into a new season?

On a personal level, there was a temptation to answer that question for everyone else. Instead, our elders decided to do something different. We asked our church family not to decide immediately. We asked them to pray.

Rather than holding one emotional meeting, we created a month long discernment guide. Each day people reflected on a different question. Not logistical questions. Heart questions.

Do you still resonate with our mission?
Do you still believe in the values that have shaped this church?
Would you follow Jesus into an uncertain future even if it meant setting up chairs every Sunday in a temporary location?
Would saying “no” bring relief… or would it feel like you were walking away from something God was inviting you into?

NVC Update_May 2026 Download

By the end of the month we asked everyone to honestly land in one of three places:

“I’m in.”
“I’m exploring.”
“I’m out.”

Notice what we weren’t asking. We weren’t asking people to stay because of friendships. We weren’t asking them to stay because they felt guilty. We weren’t asking them to stay because they liked me as their pastor. We wanted them to follow Jesus, wherever He was leading.

Freedom Is Better Than Pressure

One sentence from the guide became especially important to me. We told people that if God was leading them elsewhere, we wanted them to feel completely free to go. That sounds simple. It’s surprisingly difficult.

Leaders can often feel pressure to retain people. Attendance becomes a scorecard. Every family that leaves feels personal. But churches aren’t built through pressure. They’re built through conviction. I’d rather have someone joyfully say “yes” because they believe God called them than reluctantly stay because they felt obligated.

The Response

On June 1, after a month of prayer and reflection, 40 men and women committed to moving forward into the next season of North Village Church. Not because we had all the answers. Not because everything was settled. Because they believed God was leading them.

For me, that number represented far more than attendance. It represented ownership. Shared conviction. People choosing mission over comfort. As a pastor, I don’t know exactly what the next chapter will look like. But I know this: I’d rather lead forty people who have prayerfully discerned God’s direction than a larger crowd that simply drifted into the future.

Personal Application

This experience reminded me that leadership isn’t always about persuading people. Sometimes it’s about slowing everyone down long enough to listen. In a culture that rewards quick decisions and confident predictions, leaders have an opportunity to model something different.

And perhaps that’s true far beyond church leadership. Whether you’re leading a business, a family, or simply trying to discern your own next step, the question isn’t first, “What should I do?” It’s:

“Lord, where are You already at work, and how are You inviting me to join You?”

Sometimes that question changes everything.

When Anxiety Starts Growing

I tend to get overwhelmed easily. My brain will focus on a conversation and I will replay the conversation in my head over and over. Pretty soon my worries have evolved like a Pokemon evolution into a whole new problem that is always bigger and scarier than the original problem.

When I find myself in that place, I try to center my thoughts on three areas:

What is my responsibility.
What isn’t my responsibility.
How to move forward.

Then, I make a list of what is my responsibility. I can take a shower. I can get dressed. I can spend time in God’s Word and prayer. This initial movement alone gets my brain out of the “ideating” stage where I loop stress and anxiety and helps me start taking steps forward.

What Is My Responsibility

When I start to think about the specific conversation or event that is causing me stress I try to write down the details of those events. Who is involved? What happened? What was said? Again, these steps help me identify the nuts and bolts instead of getting swept up in emotion. I call it, “Taking Inventory.”

As long as the stress stays in my head the stress is always a blob of emotion swirling around, but simply writing down the nuts and bolts of the stress help me find this stage to be more manageable. I start to catch my breath. I start to see a path forward. I start to feel a little bit of hope in an area that felt hopeless.

What Isn’t My Responsibility

At this stage it helps me to clarify what I can’t change. I can’t change how someone responds. I can’t change how they are responding to the event / conversation. But I can show up prepared. I can listen well. I can reconsider based on what I learn from this interaction.

This little exercise takes only a few minutes. I typically write it into my phone in a text or Notes App. But I can feel my physical body start to relax as I go through this process. Most of my anxiety and stress comes from different scenarios in my head that might or might not happen. Most of the time, my anxiety isn’t coming from the stress of the event, but stress from something that is only happening in my head.

How to Move Forward

Now, I can focus on doing the best work I can bring to the table. If I don’t go through this process I can get stuck. But going through this process gives me a roadmap. I might get overwhelmed again, but now I have a reference point for me to come back to and re-evaluate.

The interesting thing about anxiety is that it usually wants to pull me away from the present moment. My mind starts racing toward outcomes, assumptions, worst case scenarios, and conversations that haven’t even happened yet.

But this process helps bring me back to reality: what is actually happening? What is my responsibility? What steps can I take forward? Sometimes the situation still feels hard. Sometimes the conversation still doesn’t go the way I hoped. Sometimes I still feel overwhelmed later in the day.

But now, instead of spiraling in every direction, I can focus on the next faithful step in front of me.

Clean Comedy Show – May 30, 2026

We are bringing together local and national talent for a cause that matters. All proceeds from the evening will support GirlStart, an Austin-based nonprofit committed to empowering girls in STEM!

Purchase Tickets: HERE

The show will be headlined by Cam F. Awesome, who was a national boxer, but recently been taking his experiences to the stage to provide inspiration and laughter to audiences around the country. Joining him on the lineup:

The event will be held at North Village Church, offering a welcoming environment for an unforgettable community-centered night of laughter.

This show continues the growing tradition of Austin comics partnering with local organizations to bring joy, build community, and make a tangible difference in the community.

Event Details:
Date: Saturday, May 30, 2026
Time: 6:00pm
Location: North Village Church, Austin, TX
Benefiting: GirlStart

Purchase Tickets: HERE

For additional information, interview requests, or media inquiries, please contact:
admin@northvillagechurch.com