Scott's Thoughts
Click title to jump to a section and ^ TOP ^ to return. Or just scroll like a normal person. And apologies for links that make getting back here annoying. We’re annoyed, too, but it’s an app limitation. And yes, Scott once had hair that could be combed.
Thank You for Showing Up
^ TOP ^
^ TOP ^
It needs to be said more often than I do: A super big-time thank you to all you FCCers who routinely show up to engage in worship, serve on the team, connect in a small group, pray and study the Bible, pursue generosity, identify with Christ, and tell the story. It’s your participation in any or all of the 7 Habits—seen or unseen—that makes this church go. I’m increasingly convinced that it’s not the especially gifted, talented, resourced, or visible few who make the most difference; it’s the everyday, boring faithfulness of those who show up time after time in the small and often unrecognized ways that most truly shape others’ lives. While there are many things I love about this church, one of the most consistent and beautiful blessings has been experiencing God’s Spirit as tangibly expressed in His people. Thank you for showing up.
New Great Questions Answered (GQA) Booklet: “Why Do Protestants Oppose the Concept of a Pope?”
^ TOP ^
^ TOP ^
(And still kind of new: “What is the Evidence for Jesus’ Death and Resurrection?” And a slightly older one you might have missed: “What is the Gospel?”)
One of the biggest problems with today’s endless stream of information is how it tricks us into thinking we don’t need to work hard to learn. We assume, “The info will be there when I need it.” And sure, an avalanche of content is available 24/7. But that availability doesn’t make the content reliable or make us better thinkers.
In fact, having everything at our fingertips often leads to shallow understanding. Much of what’s online is disembodied, disconnected from community, and filtered through algorithms that don’t care about biblical truth. Just because something’s accessible doesn’t mean it’s helpful—or that we have the time or tools to discern what’s real.
That’s part of why I’m convinced we need trustworthy theological resources at the local level. In a world full of faceless experts and impersonal content, we’re ironically more in need of truth that comes from people we know and trust. The modern “infowhelm” makes it harder—not easier—to think clearly and faithfully. If local churches and ministries aren’t teaching, discipling, and resourcing their people, anonymous online voices will gladly fill the void.
Think of it like the “buy local” movement: when it comes to truth, proximity matters. The people who know you are best positioned to help you grow.
(“So what you’re saying is, you’re gonna keep writing GQAs? Got it.”)
Yes, that’s what I’m saying. And honestly, I’m still working out my mini-theology of locally-trusted resources—so thanks for letting me think out loud here. (Sorry you’re the guinea pig. Also, I’m aware that GQA booklets are becoming mini-books, and might be more than a tad too long for some, (many, most, likely my own kids, for example, who hardly read much of what their own Dad writes.) Anyway, don’t worry, I’m not going to stop writing shorter GQAs, and I’m trying to keep the booklets to current size and smaller. (Because, of course, what everyone wants to know is my writing plans. Sheesh.)
Where to Find These GQAs:
In fact, having everything at our fingertips often leads to shallow understanding. Much of what’s online is disembodied, disconnected from community, and filtered through algorithms that don’t care about biblical truth. Just because something’s accessible doesn’t mean it’s helpful—or that we have the time or tools to discern what’s real.
That’s part of why I’m convinced we need trustworthy theological resources at the local level. In a world full of faceless experts and impersonal content, we’re ironically more in need of truth that comes from people we know and trust. The modern “infowhelm” makes it harder—not easier—to think clearly and faithfully. If local churches and ministries aren’t teaching, discipling, and resourcing their people, anonymous online voices will gladly fill the void.
Think of it like the “buy local” movement: when it comes to truth, proximity matters. The people who know you are best positioned to help you grow.
(“So what you’re saying is, you’re gonna keep writing GQAs? Got it.”)
Yes, that’s what I’m saying. And honestly, I’m still working out my mini-theology of locally-trusted resources—so thanks for letting me think out loud here. (Sorry you’re the guinea pig. Also, I’m aware that GQA booklets are becoming mini-books, and might be more than a tad too long for some, (many, most, likely my own kids, for example, who hardly read much of what their own Dad writes.) Anyway, don’t worry, I’m not going to stop writing shorter GQAs, and I’m trying to keep the booklets to current size and smaller. (Because, of course, what everyone wants to know is my writing plans. Sheesh.)
Where to Find These GQAs:
- In The Hub (hardcopy)
- As a PDF:
- On the app (under “Pulse”)
- All past and present GQAs listed at fccgreene.org/gqa. (Forewarning: A few are in unfinished and bullet-point form. I’ve got another 8-9 in similar preliminary form.)
“So, What Do You Do All Day Throughout the Week Anyway?”
^ TOP ^
^ TOP ^
Every now and then, someone asks this question. And honestly, while it used to offend me a bit, I get it. It’s easy to imagine that Pastors spend their days praying, reading the Bible, writing sermons, and just generally exuding holiness.
And sure, there’s a fair amount of that—along with the usual pastoral work: planned and unplanned meetings, visits, outreaches, emails, texts, phone calls, counseling, crises, and so on. But in our unique multisite structure, the rhythm and responsibilities of my role as Lead Pastor are a little different than they used to be, and probably different than in many traditional churches. The variety and complexity of leadership, planning, oversight, and collaboration are broader and often more organizational than people might expect. And while I’m well aware that, likely, 90% of our folks hardly care much about my schedule, there are two main reasons I’m doing so: (1) Church members should know and care about how and whether their church’s staff and ministries are being stewarded toward Kingdom goals. (2) “People churn” (defined and dealt with here) means a bunch of FCCers may not know very well what my role is, what I do, etc., and I want to rectify some of that.
So, even though it feels a little weird to do this, I figured it might be helpful to give a peek behind the curtain and share what a typical week looks like for me:
Sheesh, this became absurdly longer than planned (‘and than needed, Scott!’ Granted—but I’m leaving it as-is, as an exercise in trying to pretend to not care what others think.) FWIW, while most of them have fewer “most of our Staff have similar rhythms—with hopefully fewer meetings, hours, and uniquely Lead Pastoral things like showing up a little to a lot of different ministry things—but often in the same general types of work. While we’re at it, as I have occasionally told them the last few years, I’ll put our church staff up against just about any you can find anywhere as sold-out for the Lord, all-in for equipping the body, and working hard to care for our people. Like I say in “Thank You for Showing Up” above, they do a great job, make this place go, and deserve to be recognized for their wholehearted commitment to “Helping People Find and Follow Jesus”!
And sure, there’s a fair amount of that—along with the usual pastoral work: planned and unplanned meetings, visits, outreaches, emails, texts, phone calls, counseling, crises, and so on. But in our unique multisite structure, the rhythm and responsibilities of my role as Lead Pastor are a little different than they used to be, and probably different than in many traditional churches. The variety and complexity of leadership, planning, oversight, and collaboration are broader and often more organizational than people might expect. And while I’m well aware that, likely, 90% of our folks hardly care much about my schedule, there are two main reasons I’m doing so: (1) Church members should know and care about how and whether their church’s staff and ministries are being stewarded toward Kingdom goals. (2) “People churn” (defined and dealt with here) means a bunch of FCCers may not know very well what my role is, what I do, etc., and I want to rectify some of that.
So, even though it feels a little weird to do this, I figured it might be helpful to give a peek behind the curtain and share what a typical week looks like for me:
- Every Day: Up absurdly early, to read, think, pray, write my Dad’s Daily(ish) Devo (fccgreene.org/ddd), and do the bulk of my ongoing ministry writing: Sunday sermons; big picture vision, leadership needs, docs, msgs, etc.; Re:gen, Pillar, and 180 Q&As, Bible studies, sermons, Fireside Chats; Scott’s Thoughts; GQAs; ministry-adjacent stuff I’m being asked to do like additional preaching, the “In Awe of Your Words” Workshop (which we’ll be doing again this Fall/Winter), and a book I’ve just started working on called The Word Does the Work.) While I recognize that, in the conservative Christian world, this “up absurdly early” thing is often counted as some sort of spiritual credit, believe me—it’s mostly about practical survival. I wish I could say it developed because I’m just that holy and focused; but honestly, it developed because I am painfully introverted, incredibly easily distracted, and I tend toward laziness, indiscipline, and selfishness. Don’t get me wrong—I have grown to badly need this time with the Lord—but it’s personal and vocational survival. I am a wreckless jerk apart from a lot of personal quiet time in God’s Word and prayer. And in practical terms, my life doesn’t work well if I’m not doing a lot of this kind of work when others are asleep. Also, though a bit strange, I do 90% of the above while walking with my phone about 7-8 inches from my face, held strangely high so my back and neck don’t constantly hurt. So, while most wouldn’t count this as exercise, I get a good 6-7 miles a day, and I feel it in my “core,” as they say. (Also, when did stretching become exercise?!) Again, this is mostly survival. Plus, I just don’t care about being anything other than basically healthy. I’ve got too many verses to exegete and logical fallacies to wrestle to add “becoming buff” to my day.
- Mon – 7:30a to ~6:30p (avg), 6-7 mtgs: The meetings are personal, discipleship, staff, and occasional re:gen responsibility which often means pastoral high-fives every other week or so. A unique weekly mtg worthy of mention is our “M3PM,” which is where as many as 8-10 Staff, Residents, CBTS students, emerging young leaders, etc. gather to go through the “Sermon Worksheet” for about 8 weeks ahead of time. Aside from the obvious sermon prep, we use that mtg for curriculum planning and podcast prep.
- Tue – 6a to ~7:30p (avg), 10-12 mtgs: Marathon Staff Day of Elders, Brown Bags & Bibles recording, Various Staff mtgs (Life Groups, Senior Leadership Team, All-Staff, Staff Lunch, buncha 1:1s, Creative Team, Pillar Young Adults)
- Wed – 7a to 7p (avg), 7-8 mtgs: a few staff/church 1:1s and coffee mtgs, Weekly Bible Study Podcast Prep & Recording, Pastoral Mentoring, Lunch w Campus Pastors, occasional 180 or other Wed eve church events/responsibilities
- Thu – 8a to 6p (avg), 2-3 mtgs: couple/few people mtgs, extended time to work on sermon and other admin stuff that is always popping up, with the occasional evening mtg
- Fri – 8a to 6p (avg): Same as Fri, with Life Group in the evening
- Sat/Sun – Catch-up on important church things missed, finish up sermon, usually 2-3 church events (Sat special event, Sun church service, once monthly Next Steps)
- Misc:
- Pastoral Appearances/High Fives – I try to make an appearance at lots of things we do—and there are many!—to give pastoral high fives, keep ministry temperature, and to just generally be available. I don’t usually schedule those because it varies so wildly from day to day. But this falls into the strange category of Lead Pastor type stuff that often doesn’t fall onto the radar of most. (And it’s one of my favorite things, actually!)
- Btw, I am a husband and father, (‘Duh, Scott.’), and throughout the week and weekend, I do such things. (‘That’s profound.’) I’m simply not including any of that here.
- Btw, pt 2, I do take a day off a week over the course of a couple(ish) days.
Sheesh, this became absurdly longer than planned (‘and than needed, Scott!’ Granted—but I’m leaving it as-is, as an exercise in trying to pretend to not care what others think.) FWIW, while most of them have fewer “most of our Staff have similar rhythms—with hopefully fewer meetings, hours, and uniquely Lead Pastoral things like showing up a little to a lot of different ministry things—but often in the same general types of work. While we’re at it, as I have occasionally told them the last few years, I’ll put our church staff up against just about any you can find anywhere as sold-out for the Lord, all-in for equipping the body, and working hard to care for our people. Like I say in “Thank You for Showing Up” above, they do a great job, make this place go, and deserve to be recognized for their wholehearted commitment to “Helping People Find and Follow Jesus”!
Miscellaneous Musings
^ TOP ^
^ TOP ^
Are You in Love with Your Experience Such that You are a Cult of One?
I want to share a thought I’ve been having a lot lately: we live in a self-manipulating world of material luxury and personal control that can, if we’re not careful, turn any one of us into a functional cult of one.
This idea came to mind again as I was writing a footnote near the beginning of the GQA booklet on Why Protestants Don’t Follow a Pope. In that section, I was establishing that Christian authority, throughout history, tends to follow a particular order of priority: Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.
That brings me to an important observation. Contrary to today’s self-centered illusion of control—which upends this historic order—one of the defining marks of every single Christian tradition has been the conviction that, in the most basic terms, Scripture comes first, followed by tradition, then reason, and finally, at a great distance, experience.
This isn’t just a theoretical issue. While the details vary across denominations and eras, the underlying assumption is consistent: whenever someone places experience anywhere near the same level as Scripture or the broader tradition—whether intentionally or not, and whether as part of a group or on their own—they’re participating in something cult-like. Often, a cult of one.
Even though there’s no verified record of the quote coming from him, and scholars doubt its authenticity, Martin Luther is often attributed with a line that feels painfully relevant: “I am more afraid of my own heart than of the pope and all his cardinals. I have within me the great pope, self.”
The Word as Filter for Words
I’m no Luddite, nor am I a pop-culture abstentionist. I enjoy a good movie or show from time to time. I even pay—reluctantly, since it’s owned by Disney (a company I lost respect for years ago)—for an ESPN+ subscription because it’s the only place to watch FC Barcelona games in English and catch the ESPN FC Daily show.
I’m well aware there’s no version of modern life where all our purchases maintain some perfect standard of moral purity. And I recognize that all communication—including my own—carries the bias of the communicator.
But I’m increasingly tired of the entertainment and marketing complex that moralizes performatively, according to hollow pagan standards, while openly mocking the good, the true, and the beautiful—those things that build lasting societal health. When someone is willing to lie with a smile for the sake of clicks or money, they’re confusing being watched with being virtuous.
Friends, if we aren’t regularly testing our life’s inputs through the lens of God’s Word, we become sitting ducks for the empty idols that catechize us, drip by drip. Their messages are subtle but relentless.
So pay attention to what your screens are saying. Let the Word filter the words. Because if we don’t, the choreography of the world will shape us before we even notice we’ve joined the dance.
I Hate the Perfectionism that Paralyzes
With apologies to my parents—who didn’t let my brother and me use the word that ends this sentence—and knowing full well that, according to most, being a Pastor means I should never admit the true depths of my sinfulness (let alone how I actually feel), I’ll say it anyway: there are some things about myself that I hate.
More days than not lately, I find myself telling my wife that I despise certain things about how God made me. I know how that sounds. Some will interpret it as a failure to live in my identity in Christ or chalk it up to lingering people-pleasing tendencies. And maybe they’re partly right. But I’m just being honest.
What I keep learning—over and over—is that faithfulness that moves forward in imperfection always beats perfectionism that never moves at all. Waiting to be perfect before taking action is just another form of pride. Obedience in weakness honors God more than polished performance ever could.
Sermon-Writing is Learning to Wrestle with God and Constantly Lose
(Not that anybody should care much about my theories of preaching, but…) I’ve long had a personal saying about preaching: if it doesn’t take you to the end of yourself, you’re not doing it right. I am more convinced than ever that James speaks profoundly difficult truth when he says that “not many of you should become teachers” (James 3:1). As far as I’m concerned, if anyone speaks with great eagerness or confidence to preach, they’re obviously new (or should be kept away from the pulpit entirely.) They haven’t yet been disabused of their awesomeness such that they are actually ready to preach. They need to do more wrestling and losing.
I want to share a thought I’ve been having a lot lately: we live in a self-manipulating world of material luxury and personal control that can, if we’re not careful, turn any one of us into a functional cult of one.
This idea came to mind again as I was writing a footnote near the beginning of the GQA booklet on Why Protestants Don’t Follow a Pope. In that section, I was establishing that Christian authority, throughout history, tends to follow a particular order of priority: Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.
That brings me to an important observation. Contrary to today’s self-centered illusion of control—which upends this historic order—one of the defining marks of every single Christian tradition has been the conviction that, in the most basic terms, Scripture comes first, followed by tradition, then reason, and finally, at a great distance, experience.
This isn’t just a theoretical issue. While the details vary across denominations and eras, the underlying assumption is consistent: whenever someone places experience anywhere near the same level as Scripture or the broader tradition—whether intentionally or not, and whether as part of a group or on their own—they’re participating in something cult-like. Often, a cult of one.
Even though there’s no verified record of the quote coming from him, and scholars doubt its authenticity, Martin Luther is often attributed with a line that feels painfully relevant: “I am more afraid of my own heart than of the pope and all his cardinals. I have within me the great pope, self.”
The Word as Filter for Words
I’m no Luddite, nor am I a pop-culture abstentionist. I enjoy a good movie or show from time to time. I even pay—reluctantly, since it’s owned by Disney (a company I lost respect for years ago)—for an ESPN+ subscription because it’s the only place to watch FC Barcelona games in English and catch the ESPN FC Daily show.
I’m well aware there’s no version of modern life where all our purchases maintain some perfect standard of moral purity. And I recognize that all communication—including my own—carries the bias of the communicator.
But I’m increasingly tired of the entertainment and marketing complex that moralizes performatively, according to hollow pagan standards, while openly mocking the good, the true, and the beautiful—those things that build lasting societal health. When someone is willing to lie with a smile for the sake of clicks or money, they’re confusing being watched with being virtuous.
Friends, if we aren’t regularly testing our life’s inputs through the lens of God’s Word, we become sitting ducks for the empty idols that catechize us, drip by drip. Their messages are subtle but relentless.
So pay attention to what your screens are saying. Let the Word filter the words. Because if we don’t, the choreography of the world will shape us before we even notice we’ve joined the dance.
I Hate the Perfectionism that Paralyzes
With apologies to my parents—who didn’t let my brother and me use the word that ends this sentence—and knowing full well that, according to most, being a Pastor means I should never admit the true depths of my sinfulness (let alone how I actually feel), I’ll say it anyway: there are some things about myself that I hate.
More days than not lately, I find myself telling my wife that I despise certain things about how God made me. I know how that sounds. Some will interpret it as a failure to live in my identity in Christ or chalk it up to lingering people-pleasing tendencies. And maybe they’re partly right. But I’m just being honest.
What I keep learning—over and over—is that faithfulness that moves forward in imperfection always beats perfectionism that never moves at all. Waiting to be perfect before taking action is just another form of pride. Obedience in weakness honors God more than polished performance ever could.
Sermon-Writing is Learning to Wrestle with God and Constantly Lose
(Not that anybody should care much about my theories of preaching, but…) I’ve long had a personal saying about preaching: if it doesn’t take you to the end of yourself, you’re not doing it right. I am more convinced than ever that James speaks profoundly difficult truth when he says that “not many of you should become teachers” (James 3:1). As far as I’m concerned, if anyone speaks with great eagerness or confidence to preach, they’re obviously new (or should be kept away from the pulpit entirely.) They haven’t yet been disabused of their awesomeness such that they are actually ready to preach. They need to do more wrestling and losing.
Posted in Scotts Thoughts