I have a confession to make and I hope it doesn't make you think less of me. Ned Flanders and I have become friends. It hasn't always been this way. For years before I began to pastor a church I knew just what the problem was in American evangelical culture, and it wasn't sin, it was church people, it was Ned and his friends. The "frozen chosen" I think I have heard them called. They were old, tired, non missional, unmoved by the gospel, and thought the Left Behind movies were a great idea. They had driven our precious Lord's bride into the ground and deserved at least to be mocked in our young, hip, missional conversations and sermons and maybe even killed in some sort of Old Testament fashion. I used to think that when my time came to Pastor I didn't want or need any of them. I just wanted to see people saved. I didn't want to "swap sheep" in fact maybe we wouldn't let anyone join the church that was trying to come to us from another church in town. I could see us now, raw, gritty, authentic, and somewhat angry but not enough to be called sin, tattooed and rough around the edges. Ned would hate it, but we would reclaim the gospel he and his cronies had taken and perverted into this withdrawn, judgmental joke. We would see the lost saved and develop them ourselves.

I first met Kevin about eight years ago at a youth camp in North Carolina. He was 25, just had his first child and was married to a woman far too beautiful for him. Kevin was a gifted and passionate young man enjoying a very fruitful season of ministry in an exceptionally large church. In fact, up to this point everything he touched quadrupled in size, filled up with the Holy Spirit and turned to gold. The thing that impressed me the most about him was his passion for truth and his desire for instilling that in the people Jesus had asked him to lead.