Matt Chandler - The Depth of the Gospel

Good morning! How are we all? If you have your Bibles, I would love for you to turn to this passage; I’m going to focus on it for the next 40 minutes. This week and next, I want to review some things that I think we know, but I need to ensure we understand before we move into the fall series. I don’t know how you’re organized or put together, but I learn things slowly from the Lord. What I mean by that is the Lord tries to tell me something, and it’s often difficult for me to pick up on it. Then, all of a sudden, there’s a moment that catalyzes it, and I think, «Dang it!» Is anyone else like that? If your hands didn’t go up, we were going to switch spots, so I’m glad they did! I had this moment about 13 years ago. A lot of you actually know about it; it’s not the brain cancer, nice try! But it truly changed how I viewed ministry and how I understood how God was leading me to live my life and step into this space of vocational ministry as He handed it to me. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it coming, but I’m just grateful the Lord shone some light on it.

It started with my first memory, where I thought, «Dang it, I should have seen that.» It was back in the old HV building, where the entire front had stairs. Right now, I’m up, and there’s a moat and a couple of machine gun nests; we learned over the years that we needed some kind of protection. But back then, we sort of all piled on top of each other. I would sit on the front row, walk up to preach, and afterward walk down to counsel and pray. I met this man— I can still see his face. His life and marriage were falling apart, and to quote him, Jesus wasn’t working. I started asking questions, and the more he talked, the more concerned I became because I realized this man did not know the gospel and therefore could not be a Christian.

I shifted our conversation and started to ask him when he surrendered his life to Jesus—what was going on in that space when he understood what Christ was calling him to do. Without trying to be funny, he looked me dead in the eyes and said, «I was born in San Antonio.» If you’ve never been in that situation, you have to watch your face! I wasn’t trying to shame this brother; I was just surprised. I asked some more questions, and this poor man, who had been in church for a long time, thought that because he was born in Texas to believing parents, he was a Christian. I was able to guide him in clarifying what the gospel was and what it wasn’t. As awesome as Texas is—and it truly is awesome because people are moving here—some might not believe that but it doesn’t stop them from coming!

To encourage you, I met three families who all moved here—one from Southern Oregon, one from California, and one from Seattle. None of them moved here to change our state; all of them moved to breathe a little, if you will. Let’s just be careful before we keep an eye on them. I’m not saying not to watch them; I’m saying welcome them into the family, hug them, say «we love you, ” but watch yourself! So anyway, the number of people in those early days who had some sort of church background or moral conservative bent and equated that to Christianity was happening so frequently that I couldn’t see it. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it, but here was the moment: some of you are actually in this room. I see a couple of you here; I know you were there that night. It was a Saturday night; we were having a celebration service. I walked in, sat in my normal seat, and a young man in his early to mid-20s came up and grabbed me for a hug. Now, if I don’t know you, I’m not a chest-to-chest hugger! If you’re a man and we don’t know each other, I’m not pulling you in—I’m going to keep a distance.