MK Gantt Ministries

He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.  [John 8:44]

The most potent lie is a lie that is almost true.  A truth spoken without proper context can be a powerful tool of deception. 

Many years ago, I was in downtown Manhattan. Passing by a newsstand I spied a newspaper headline over a photo of Billy Graham standing outside a pornographic bookstore. The headline, in large bold print declared: “Billy Graham says, ‘Pornography is the greatest!’” I couldn’t believe my eyes and of course, I grabbed a copy off the newsstand and paid the vendor. Leaning against a nearby building I hurriedly turned to a page near the middle of the tabloid which immediately told the “rest of the story.” 

Graham’s actual statement was something along the lines of “Pornography is the greatest threat to American culture.” The headline was a deliberate ploy to sell newspapers. Billy Graham certainly spoke the words that were in the headline, but the lead didn’t include the context. It was a lie. Period.

The most effective liars don’t necessarily fabricate, choosing rather to prevaricate. The really good liar simply tells the truth in a nuanced manner . . . leaving out important context or key words. They suggest an interpretation of circumstances that leads their victim to a skewed interpretation of reality. 

I am going to be honest. I have hesitated writing this piece because it requires a level of personal transparency which is really uncomfortable and a little embarrassing. However, I feel I need to risk the exposure . . . simply because there may be somebody else who reads this . . . and gets it.

I have been in active pastoral ministry for some 55 years now. I think most would consider me to have been moderately successful in my endeavors in the ministry. I am generally regarded as an effective preacher, a better than average teacher, effective administrator and possess reasonably effective people skills. I have served the same church for almost 45 years. Several years ago, I stepped back from my role as Lead Pastor, turning those responsibilities over to my eldest son. It was time. He was ready. I was happy to do it. 

Over the past few months, there has been this incessant whisper in my ear. “You aren’t really needed here.” They were whispers that suggested ideas that while absolutely true, came in such a way that I felt wholly diminished by them. I was feeling as if I had become irrelevant and unnecessary. I was starting to believe that I have little value to offer the church; completely overlooking the fact that it’s a good thing that church life does not revolve around me because we have built an effective ministry team with many various personalities shouldering responsibilities for the life of the church. It may matter that I’m here, but it’s not necessary that I’m here. Instead of being elated by this truth, I found myself becoming depressed by it. 

I am a preacher; I have been for a long time. However, there is another preacher who carries the load in our pulpit now. My son is an amazing musician who has developed an anointed worship team around him and who has become an engaging teacher of the Word of God, a respected and valued leader in the church and community, a man to whom the congregation looks to for the future. Instead of rejoicing in being able to witness something that many pastors never get to experience, I have been moping around feeling as if I am no longer wanted or needed.  

I am a content creator on social media. I stream two weekly podcasts to four different social media platforms and have followers from all over the US and in many countries around the world. A little over a year ago, my daughter started to develop her own video podcast. (Blooming in a Cage) It’s a great program! She has an amazing group of followers and is growing every week in popularity. Recently, I would watch her show and think, “Man, she is really, really good at this. So many lives are being encouraged.” Then the whispers would start, “You know, she really is better at this than you are. Look at all of those lives she is touching.”  What should have been making my heart glad was in fact making it sad and I could feel the depression growing. You see, it’s not necessarily the words that make the lie; sometimes it’s the tone, the suggestion. 

I am a writer. I have written several books over the past few years. They are good books that have been well received and lives have been impacted. I have served on the faculty of two Christian writers conferences and have gained more than a little respect among Christian writers. Then, out of the blue, my third born child –– a son, tells me he is writing a book. He asked for advice on publishing, marketing, and such. I had him send me some of his stuff to read, and I suggested to him that he should start a blog and post some of his writing as a means of building a platform from which to market his book when he eventually is able to publish. He did; and I got jealous.

This kid is good. I mean he’s really good. He is raw, fearless, and gets right to the bone of a matter. He is going to impact so many lives. He is going to encourage so many who are feeling lost and abandoned. He is going to infuriate so many religious stuffed shirts and become such a powerful change agent in the church. This is the truth. ( saltlightandhospitality.com )

But, what I was hearing was, “You are old, tired, and out of date –– a relic of a bygone generation that just needs to get out of the way because you’ve got nothing to contribute.”

You see, the enemy didn’t lie to me. He got me to lie to myself. 

The fact that my church will move into the next season with a new generation of strong and effective leadership is a good thing . . . a thing for me to celebrate. 

The fact that I have a son who now stands at the helm I once held with grace, anointing, and the blessing of God is a good thing . . . a thing for me to celebrate. 

The fact that my daughter is touching the lives of so many hurting folks through her own place in the ministry, especially to women, is a good thing . . . a thing I ought to celebrate. 

And the fact that I have a son who can pen words that will set captives free, minister healing to men and women who have been injured and rejected, and bring down religious castles that have been built in place of expanding the Kingdom is a good thing . . . a thing for me to celebrate. 

Lesson learned . . . lesson shared. The enemy is a liar and if he can’t convince you to believe his lies, he’ll convince you to believe the lies you tell yourself. In the words of a son that I admire greatly . . . Stay Salty.