A Blog by Jason Salamun

Not too long ago, I preached on fear and anxiety.

Weeks later, I was full of fear and anxiety.

As the neurologist looked at my MRI, he saw the problem.

“Looks like you’ve got a ruptured disc between your c6 and c7 vertebrae in your neck that’s hitting a nerve.”

He then went on to tell me,

“What we’re going to do is make an incision in your throat, take out the disc, fuse the two vertebrae together, and screw in some metal plates.”

He then began to talk about the risks and the slight potential of being paralyzed from the neck down.

This wasn’t exactly great news, but it was what he said next that caught me off-guard.

He began discussing the greater chance that I could experience the loss of my voice because of the procedure.

It could be permanent, it could be long-term, it could return raspy, or most likely, once the swelling dies down, it could return to normal.

Not what you want to hear when your voice is your livelihood.

Now, I could lie, act all super spiritual, and tell you that I immediately trusted God and left the neurologists’ office without a care in the world.

But the truth is, I walked to my car, closed the door, laid my head on the steering wheel, and wept.

I was afraid.

The idea of losing my voice felt like losing a friend.

It hurt.

I’m sure you, a reasonable reader, can probably determine that the odds of losing my voice is quite small, yet that’s the very thing I chose to focus on.

Worrying has a way of turning a pebble into Pikes Peak.

Not in reality, but in our minds.

And that’s what was happening to me.

Most of my hopes and dreams involve my ability to speak.

So I prayed.

I prayed that God would let me keep my voice.

As I prayed, the thought occurred to me, “What if God doesn’t want me to have a voice?”

Perhaps He doesn’t?

Perhaps He does?

Then a bigger question popped into my mind, or rather, my heart:

“Do you trust me?”

That’s the real question I’ve been wrestling with.

I know the right answer…

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (Phil. 4:6)

…and I’m learning to live in light of it.

In a couple of weeks, I’ll go in for the neck fusion surgery.

I’m ready to have this great pain in my neck, shoulders, and back removed.

I’m looking forward to the numbness in my left arm to be gone and to feel my fingers again.

And I’m hoping my voice returns.

Who knows, it might even be smoother and sexier than ever.

But the greater surgery is what’s happening in my heart.

God taking his rightful place.

My hopes resting in my Great Hope.

Not in my voice or anything else.

Just him.

I know He loves me.

I know He’s mighty.

I know He’s in control.

It’s time to live like I do.

One of my favorite musical artists is Leonard Cohen.

He wrote a song titled, “If It Be Your Will” (Listen)

I’ve always loved it, and in this moment of my life, it’s taken on a deeper meaning.

Perhaps it will resonate with you as well.

‘If It Be Your Will” by Leonard Cohen

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before

I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you

From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice

Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light

In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will

Amen

“Sometimes you have to play a long time to be able to play like yourself.” – Miles Davis

We live in an amazing age.  The world has become increasingly connected and small because of the interwebs, cell phones, and nifty gadgets.

As a preacher, I’ve found that podcasts are incredibly useful.  Being able to listen to the best communicators in the world whenever I want is a real gift. Not to mention surveying the culture, listening to seminary classes on iTunes U, and keeping up with leadership stuff from people like Catalyst.

On a given week I listen to between 15-20 sermons to learn from well-known preachers like Tim Keller, Francis Chan, Matt Chandler, and Andy Stanley.  I also enjoy listening to preacher friends from around the country to stay up with their churches as well as other lesser known pastors who are further down the road than me.  When I think about it, I’ve probably listened to thousands of sermons and my life and ministry have been greatly enriched because of it.

But there’s a downside for the preacher.

We can end up sounding so much like those we admire that we don’t put the effort in to find our own voice.

For years, Mark Driscoll has been a can’t-miss podcast for me.  His blend of bible teaching, humor, and confrontational style appeals to my macho-man self.  Like many, I highly respect him and have learned a great deal from him through his preaching and writing.  However, last year I listened to a podcast of mine and noticed how much I sounded like him.

It was eerie and I didn’t like what I had heard.  Why? Because it wasn’t me.

I never wanted to be a cookie cut from someone else’s mold.  Just Jesus’. Yet that’s exactly what was happening.

Yes, we should learn from others. Yes, we are influenced by others. Yes, there are many who are better. BUT God has given me, and everything other preacher, a unique voice.  He has not called us to be the next John Piper, Rob Bell, Perry Noble, or Rick Warren. He has called us to be the first us!  Preachers are to follow Jesus, discover and use our voice, and make disciples who listen to His voice.

Instead, I sounded like a Driscollpalian. A Mark Driscoll clone.

So I took a dramatic step. I went on a three month Mark Driscoll fast. Yep, I fasted from Mark Driscoll. I didn’t read his books, listen to his podcasts, or view his tweets.

I know it sounds funny, but I was (and still am) on a journey to find my voice. It wasn’t about him, it was about me. I needed to recalibrate and get on the track to finding my voice.

Driscoll (and other gifted leaders) have remarkable ministries and younger guys like me can learn a lot from them.  But let us put aside the desire to be them. We are not. We are us!

I will never be Leonard Sweet, Erwin McManus, Steven Furtick, or any other well-known preacher. I will be Jason Salamun. I will (by the grace of God) grow as a communicator of the gospel by opening my bible and pointing people to Jesus.

While I’m at it, Project Church will never be Mars Hill, LifeChurch.tv, Mosaic, or any other well-known church. We will be Project Church. And while we worship the same God as these wonderful churches, our fingerprint is our own.  So is yours.

So how do you find your voice?

I’m still learning but the only way I know of to find your voice is to preach and preach some more.  It doesn’t just happen, it takes work. “Swinging ’til your hands bleed” I heard someone say. Everyone starts somewhere.  (Ever notice how Driscoll’s early sermons in the mid-90’s aren’t even listed on their media page?)

It might also be helpful to listen to yourself (as painful as that might be) and ask people you respect to give you honest feedback.

We live in a funny time. Because of the availability of messages online today, people will compare you to their favorites and criticize you against that standard. Be cautious about who you listen to. I’m much more apt to listen to a wise mentor or trusted friend than some internet sermon savant who knows little about me or my community.  I’ve had my fair share of those know-it-all bible school students who want to haggle over secondary matters in a church they aren’t even connected to.  Don’t go down that road. You’ve got better things to do (like loving people).

If you’re a preacher, let me remind of this: you are called! Be humble and learn, be patient and grow, and be faithful and preach. You have a mighty task and stand in a line of imperfect people God has used to change hearts and history.

Find your voice my friend.  The world needs you to bring Jesus.

And if you’re the critic, cut the preacher some slack. They might be working a full-time job while planting a start-up church, leading a family of four, dealing with stress and burden of being a leader that you’ll never fully understand, while pouring their heart and soul into helping jacked-up people take their first and next steps in following Jesus. If they aren’t a straight-up heretic, then the least you can do is nut-up, pray them up, and offer up some freakin’ encouragement because trust me pal, they could really use it!

I was standing before my church community, teaching on the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount, and came upon the phrase, “He saw the crowds.”

This small phrase is significant to understanding the Beatitudes and is repeated later in Matthew 9:36, “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”

Jesus didn’t just talk to a crowd.

He saw them, stepped into their story, and spoke directly to them.

Then it hit me!

My eyes were opened.

And I finally saw the crowd.

Suddenly, the mass of humanity became a sea of faces.

Faces I knew the stories of.

Faces I really care about.

Some are exploring Jesus for the first time.

Some are prodigals.

Some have suffered great heartache and pain due to broken relationships.

Some are giving love another shot.

Some have no clue as to how they’re going to pay their bills.

Some will blow their excess on a shopping spree on things they don’t need.

Some are drowning in confusion about their future.

Some know full-well what they’re to do but lack to courage to go for it.

Some have been neglected by those they love.

Some are neglecting those they love.

Some are oblivious to their self-righteousness.

Some can only see their depravity.

Some are theological snobs who think they know it all.

Some have never studied the scriptures at all.

Some are recovering from their addictions.

Some are denying they have one.

Some feel overwhelmed by life.

Some feel their life is empty.

Some desperately need the gospel.

Some desperately need to remember it.

In a moment, God took me from talking to a crowd to seeing them.

From speaking to a general audience to preaching to a particular people.

My heart melted.

My mind understood.

My soul awakened.

To preach like Jesus is to see the crowds.

And my preaching will never be the same.

Evangelist.

Almost sounds like a dirty word, doesn’t it?

It’s not supposed to be.

Sadly, the biblical term evangelist has been cheapened.

Why?

Manipulation.

Don’t get me wrong.

There are many honest and winsome evangelists who really know and love Jesus and really want others to know and love him too.

But.

There are the other kinds.

The shamwow evangelists.

Often their aim is fame.

Not so much of Jesus.

But of the evangelists themselves.

Yowzers!

When you see evangelism holding hands with manipulation…run.

The Gospel doesn’t need manipulation, just proclamation.

With our words and lives.

The Spirit of God does the rest.

Shamwow evangelism is a shape-shifter, taking on many forms.

It contains one or more of following symptoms:

No one is offended by the message.

There’s a scant mention of sin (or none at all).

You hear a Pedro Promise (all your wildest dreams will come true).

The pitch is more about going to heaven than knowing, loving, and following Jesus.

Salvation decisions are motivated more by a fear of hell than a love for Jesus.

The viewer/attendance numbers matter more than the disciples-made numbers.

There are commercial breaks to plug the evangelist’s products.

The cross is not preached and folks aren’t called to live Christ-centered lives.

As a communicator of the gospel, I point this out because I care about you.

I really want you to know, love, and follow Jesus.

It’s embarrassing how many of us preachers have turned the beautiful gospel into a slimy sales pitch.

It’s so much better than that.

Jesus is so much better than that.

An evangelist is one who brings good news.

THE Good News.

It’s all about Jesus.

It’s that simple.

It’s that beautiful.

It’s that controversial.

It’s that true.

It’s that good.