I accidentally arrived half an hour early to church one morning. While I wondered how to fill the extra time, a small group of people invited me to join them in prayer about human trafficking. The group members explained how they met every week to intercede in prayer against modern-day slavery.

Several years later, I am still a member of this group that upholds the mission of “Asking God to end human trafficking while bringing awareness to Galveston Island.”

Reflecting on our group’s beginnings, founding-member Becca remembers how she and her friend “felt called to start a prayer group [about human trafficking]. We saw a gap in the ministry of our church and a population that needed prayer.

“Very quickly,” she continued, “we learned that another couple was interested in joining our group as God had placed that same topic on their heart. It was a sweet and early confirmation that this group had a purpose and a place at our [church].”

As the group continued to meet, the Lord was gracious to provide specific topics for us to lift up, such as praying for anti-human-trafficking resources for Galveston Island.

Prayer and perseverance

I never will forget one particular Sunday morning. In the middle of asking God to bring victim resources to our community, two visitors from the church lobby interrupted our prayer time. They shared how they planned to move to Galveston to build a restoration center for human-trafficking victims.

I was shocked with joy.

This “God wink”—this holy interruption as an answer to our prayer—is one of the ways I see God demonstrating grace toward our group. He is working all things, including our prayers, together for his glory.

I later was disappointed to hear building the victim center was cancelled. Why would God answer our prayer so directly only for it to fail?

When seeing little tangible progress, I must remind myself “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12 ESV).

Prayer and dependence

Galveston is a city with evident spiritual darkness from the presence of witchcraft to signs of the sex industry. In this darkness, prayer can be discouraging.

For all my fellow “doers” and “fixers,” praying may feel disheartening, because it can feel like “doing less” than hands-on, frontline work.

As an unqualified person who wandered into a prayer group one Sunday, I have felt discouraged that “all I am doing” in prayer is making a request in the name of Jesus for God to move, for him to bring someone qualified to the frontlines. I have realized, however, feelings of helplessness in prayer are not unfounded.

Because prayer is both the acknowledgement of dependency on God and the means of communication with God, praying helps us recognize our own limitations while communing with a limitless God.

Praying is the most helpless and most helpful posture a believer can take.

Larry, a founding member of the prayer group, explains: “As we intercede, we have witnessed the power of God bringing transformation and peace to torn and restless hearts. In our weakness, we seek to align ourselves with his sovereign purpose, believing that his justice, mercy and redemption will prevail where human efforts fall short.”

Feeling helpless in prayer only becomes a problem if it leads to despair, rather than reliance on God’s sovereignty.

Prayer and God’s timing

In his plan and timing earlier this year, members of our prayer group sat in the Galveston County Courthouse to celebrate an agreement between the Texas Governor’s Office and the anti-human-trafficking organization Unbound Now. This collaborative effort intends to streamline resources to Galveston youth who are victims of commercial sexual exploitation.

David, a fellow church member who serves as an investigator on human-trafficking cases explains: “This is something that we all have been praying for. The group that meets on Sunday is a big part of this because of their standing firm in prayer.”

God is answering our prayers for this island community.

Joining in prayer

While continuing to pray against human trafficking, our group has been inspired to encourage other believers to form prayer groups within their own congregations.

In light of how God has answered and is answering our prayers, I encourage you to take consistent action in prayer.

While you may not feel stirred to intercede about human trafficking, is there other injustice you see but are unqualified to handle? Are there others around you who also feel called to pray about a particular topic? Is there a time you could meet consistently for prayer?

Through prayer, you have access to the God, “who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us” (Ephesians 3:20 ESV). He is the God of limitless resources. Prayer, therefore, should not be our last resort but our first.

To join us in prayer against human trafficking, please consider these topics our prayer group has shared within our own congregation:

• Recovery and restoration of victims.
• Those at risk of being trafficked.
• Children born into trafficking.
• Confusion of traffickers.
• Law enforcement fighting trafficking.
• Wisdom for victim service providers.
• Healing and salvation for all involved.

Mary Madison Weaver is a member of Coastal Community Church on Galveston Island off the Texas coast. She is a medical student with an interest in human-trafficking education for healthcare professionals. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

During such a remarkable and often deeply concerning time in the history of our nation and our world, it was refreshing to get away from the turmoil for a few days. Though that’s not what I thought I was going to do.

The Ascent gathering last week in Alexandria, Va.—just outside Washington, D.C.—was a reprieve not only from the troubles of worldly politics. It was also a break from troubling religious politics.

I wasn’t expecting that. I was there to work, to learn more about a developing cooperative mission effort. I was there to observe, not to be ministered to. I kept waiting for the business that attends every religious gathering like this. Business wasn’t avoided entirely, but it took a back seat to ministry.

The Ascent gathering brought together pastors and ministry leaders from several Protestant denominations for the purpose of connecting with, encouraging, learning from and ministering to one another. It was celebrative and refreshing. It felt like revival.

You and your church need to know there are vibrant efforts like this taking shape around evangelism and missions. And there’s welcome at the table.

Rupture

Chris Backert, senior director of Ascent, described the movement’s origin and future in three words—rupture, realignment and revival.

Protestant Christianity, known for its lifelong divisions, has undergone a new season of rupture reminiscent of its beginnings 500 years ago. The Southern Baptist Convention and its affiliated state conventions offer a prime example.

The Southern Baptist Convention was birthed in 1845 through division from Northern Baptists over the issue of slavery. Almost 150 years later, the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship split from the SBC in 1991 over a different set of issues.

Within a few years, Baptist state conventions in Virginia and Texas also ruptured. The more conservative Southern Baptist Convention of Virginia split from the more moderate Baptist General Association of Virginia in 1996. The more conservative Southern Baptists of Texas Convention split from the more moderate Baptist General Convention of Texas in 1998. You may notice a pattern there.

Baptist groups aren’t the only ones fracturing. Presbyterian, Lutheran, Episcopal, Methodist and other denominations have undergone their own ruptures over the last few decades.

Realignment

Many, including myself, saw these ruptures as causes and/or results of denominational decline. Indeed, interest in and knowledge about denominations has all but evaporated among the average churchgoer in recent decades. For many, a denominational label is a liability.

More recently, what I and others have observed is what I started calling “a realignment” across denominations. For example, we noticed polity and particular doctrine becoming less important for cooperation than stances on social issues or missions.

In the case of Baptists, some pastors and churches increasingly are finding more in common with some Methodists, Assemblies of God and other Protestant traditions than they do with fellow Baptists. And, no, this does not mean those Baptists have given up being Baptist.

Some Baptist churches, having been voted out of their historic national “home,” find themselves looking for a new one. They are finding options outside historic Baptist connections.

Ascent is one place where the denominationally disenchanted or disaffiliated can find a national “home”—a place to partner with other like-minded Christians, particularly those interested in evangelism and missions.

Revival

One thing drawing different churches to Ascent is its focus on re-evangelizing North America. While denominational bodies feud over women in ministry, sexuality, money, power and bureaucracy, Ascent is singularly focused on what needs to be done to reintroduce North America to following Jesus.

Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Assemblies of God, Pentecostal and other churches can work together through Ascent to communicate the gospel of Jesus Christ, and without giving up their respective denominational distinctives.

This doesn’t mean Ascent is a better collective than <insert-name> denomination, and less still that Ascent is perfect. It does mean people and churches from very different Christian traditions and polities are already supporting and celebrating one another’s efforts to carry out the Great Commission in North America.

Their shared hope is, just as revival followed previous eras of rupture and realignment, revival will follow the rupture and realignment happening now. Rather than wallow in mourning diminished prominence, churches can celebrate and lend their hand to what God is doing now. This is the posture of Ascent I observed last week.

Like others in the room, I found this joyful and refreshing. And if that’s not revival, I don’t know what is.

Finding our place

Realignment is happening not only among churches. It also is happening politically, culturally, socially, economically, globally. It’s a disconcerting and destabilizing time. We know what the old connections are and what the expectations used to be. But everything seems up for grabs now. It’s no wonder anxiety is up and that it’s infected the church.

Follower of Jesus, we are to remember we are citizens of another kingdom. The stuff of this world comes and goes while our one allegiance remains the same. Our one allegiance is to Jesus Christ. Our unchanging obedience is to his commands. Our duty, then, is to find our place in his mission.

More and more I find, the people and places who keep Jesus’ mission front and center are the people I want to know and the places I want to be. Because there is life there. And enlivening purpose. I suspect you desire the same.

*******

Ascent is still forming. There are still questions that need to be answered. Those who feel more comfortable within a formalized structure may want to wait to partner with Ascent, while keeping the collective in consideration.

Those looking for distinctly Baptist connections as alternatives to historic connections on a national and global scale can consider GC2 and Baptist World Alliance, respectively.

*******

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

“Ask and see whether a man doth travail with child” (Jeremiah 30:6 KJV).

Yes, a man can “travail with child” say America’s judges, President Biden, Democratic senators by filibustering a transgender ban in women’s sports, and Gov. Tim Walz by mandating feminine products in boys’ bathrooms. Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson cannot define “woman.”

Yes, says America’s military, when the Air Force Academy prohibits cadets from saying “Mom” or “Dad,” calling for “non-birthing parent” instead, and when the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps promoted Rachel Levine as the first transgender four-star admiral.

Yes, say America’s doctors, hospitals and medical associations by approving gender-altering surgeries for minors when “medically necessary.”

Yes, says the National Institutes of Health through a $620,000 grant for transgender boys’ pregnancy prevention program.

Yes, say America’s schools with pre-K’s drag story hours and Draggieland at Texas A&M.

Yes, say the NCAA, professional sports and Olympics.

Yes, we promote this, say the news media, entertainment and big business.

Yes, said the Texas House LGBTQ caucus. On Transgender Day of Remembrance 2023, they honored a member of the “Ziz” transgender cult, “Emma” Borhanian, as a victim of transphobic violence. Yet Borhanian actually was killed by the man he and other cult members were viciously trying to murder and two years later did murder.

Yes, say America’s pastors and churches, from the National Cathedral after the 2025 presidential inauguration, to local churches that welcome and affirm transgenders.

The Bible says, “Let everyone that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity” (2 Timothy 2:19).

“They will not speak the truth. They have taught their tongue to speak lies.” “They proceed from evil to evil.” “Saith the LORD: shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?” (Jeremiah 9:3, 5, 9)

Micheal Ellis
Belton, Texas

Depression is a sneaky illness. I have seen it a lot of in my lifetime.

If you have been depressed, you likely have turned to the Bible for help.

In the Old Testament, we read about the depression of King David and the prophets. They seemed to have good reasons for stress and anxiety—David being chased and threatened with the javelin, the prophets being terribly sad because Israel was sinning and no one was seeking God.

My reasons for depression were not so spiritual. I was not thinking about the lost world as much as I was processing my own dreams and losses.

1 Timothy 6:17 tells us God gives us richly all things to enjoy. In Philippians 4:19, Paul writes that God will supply all our needs from his riches in glory in Jesus. Apparently, God’s will is for us to be joyful with nothing to worry about.

While that is God’s will, depression and its accompanying altered brain chemistry feels powerful enough to cancel all that divine plan. We even may feel beaten over the head with the good news, asking: “What is wrong with me? Of course, I want God’s joy!” But that is the illness talking, and not truth. The illness tends to be very talkative.

Once, I saw a psychologist for depression, and I made the statement in my therapy session: “We cannot proceed any further on how I feel. I have to go forward on what I know.”

Several times in my life, those words have guided me to walk toward truth and act on truth. Feelings were not reliable at those times.

Causes of depression

Not meeting expectations we place on ourselves is a common source of depression and low self-esteem. The media shows us prototypes of the popular teenager; the perfect homemaker and mother; the rising “professional;” the good-looking, young pastor with a huge church. Everyone looks healthy, gorgeous and rich. Many of us expected for our lives to be like that.

Sometimes, the expectations others have of us cause depression, such as when people don’t accept us for who we are. We feel unloved.

Myths we hold about other people, even heroes we deeply respect, are often misleading. All people have a human side with imperfections.

Often, we elevate certain people influential in our lives to a position they cannot maintain. We think they will take care of us, remain loyal, never choose self-interest over what is right. Then … bam! We are sorely disappointed with them and ourselves for naively trusting them. This can be depressing.

We find ourselves dealing with major disappointments, usually loss.

Depression can be caused by job loss, loss of a close relationship, business failure, extreme loneliness and/or feeling inadequate to take the next steps in life. Physical illness and decline are reasons for depression. Death of a loved one and prolonged grief may lead to depression, as well. The list of causation is very long, personal and individualized.

The bright side

A positive aspect is through these excruciating experiences, we learn about life, what to expect, what to do and how to cope. As we cope better, we tend to feel better.

Perhaps because of this life-long learning process, we are less depressed in later years, or we have different reasons for depression, reflecting our time of life.

Seeking help

Depression has felt like a shaking rhythm of nerves that will not quit. Since nerves are throughout our body, nervous symptoms can cause physical disruption throughout the body.

Nerves also get tired. I have experienced depression as exhaustion, depletion and excess sleep, as well.

Whenever we are feeling “off” with mental health, whatever our symptoms might be, a visit to our doctor is in order, so our overall health is assessed and other disorders are ruled out.

If you are depressed or anxious, you may need to seek a medical diagnosis; take medication as prescribed; engage in talk therapy or perhaps new treatments that help alleviate traumatic memory, such as EMDR—eye movement desensitization and reprocessing; or even therapy that electrically stimulates the brain.

Science is giving us new paths to healing every day. A well-trained physician will know what you need.

Be willing to try more than one medical protocol. I can recall several medications that did not suit me because of side effects, but now, oddly, through cancer treatment, I found the perfect medicine for me.

Do what you can to be with other people and share what is in your heart. Talk to God. He has been my loyal companion through many a sleepless night, through weeping to joy in the morning.

God delivers

The Bible is rich with Scriptures that promise God’s unending presence and protection and his power to lift us out of the pit of depression.

Psalm 34:17 says: “The righteous cry out and the Lord hears them; and he delivers them from all their troubles.”

He hears us when we are too ill to form sentences, too weak to talk to anyone for a long time, or too unsure of ourselves to attend church. He hears in the Spirit.

God loves us, and he delivers.

Take heart. You are very important and loved just as you are.

Ruth Cook is a longtime Texas Baptist. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

The gospel is good news, so I want to start, not with opposition, but with sowing.

Three principles of sowing the gospel

There are three principles from Scripture about sowing the gospel.

1. Accessibility

The first principle we find in Scripture regarding sowing is accessibility.

Paul reminds us: “How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent?” (Romans 10:14-15).

Pretty straightforward.

Gospel sowing requires accessibility. In other words, we cannot sow the gospel from a distance. It won’t work.

God showed us the example. The Word became flesh and planted his tent among us (John 1:14). Accessibility.

2. Generosity

When we think gospel sowing, immediately, the parable of the sower comes to mind. This parable is central to the synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark and Luke.

According to the story—one sower who sows the seed of the word of God, which falls on four different types of ground. The result? The seed will only grow in one of the four soils.

We think, “What a waste!”

Although the passage doesn’t limit the reception of the word of God to salvation, it still maintains that for the word of God to take hold in someone’s heart, they need multiple exposures.

In other words, we should be sowing with generosity, not scarcity.

I find the passage in Ecclesiastes particularly informing in this regard:

“The who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap. As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the word of God who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good” (Ecclesiastes 11:4-6).

I love it. Don’t overthink it. Just sow. Morning, evening. In good times and in bad times. That’s exactly what the sower of the parable did.

3. Transferability

Accessibility and generosity ensure, at some point, the seed will fall into the right soil, and the work of the Spirit will bring the seed to germinate and to produce new life—30-, 60-, 100-fold.

The seed produces grain Matthew tells us are sons and daughters of the kingdom. Brilliant. The seed becomes a person, who in turn will take the seed of the gospel and sow into other soils. Transferability.

In every person in whom you sow the seed of the word of God is the potential of a future sower.

There is more. Transferability ensures greater accessibility, because more people can be sent. Full circle.

Full circle

Think of Philip the evangelist. He is in Samaria when an angel tells him to go on the road between Jerusalem and Gaza. So, he goes. Accessibility.

Next thing, the Spirit says, “Catch that chariot.”

So, he runs. Generosity.

Then he sows the gospel and baptizes the Ethiopian, who becomes a son of a new kingdom. Transferability.

What does the Ethiopian do? He brings it back to his own country. Accessibility.

You see the logic?

Sowing the gospel amid opposition

I come from Quebec, Canada. There are three numbers to understand in my context: 24, 1, 500.

• The percentage of Canadians who speak the language of Moliere is 24, roughly 9 million people.
• The percentage of evangelicals living in Quebec, which is 2.5 times the size of Texas, is 1.
• The number of evangelical churches in Quebec is 500, versus just the 10,000-plus Baptist churches in Texas alone.

The numbers point to the largest unreached people group in North America, just a 5.5-hour flight from Dallas.

I live in downtown Montreal. Montreal has beautiful architecture that goes back to the 1700s. Downtown Montreal has the highest concentration of students per square foot in North America. Staggering. Of the 100,000 people who live there, most are between 18 and 35, single and have no religious affiliation.

Guess how many evangelical churches you can find in downtown Montreal that speak the language of Moliere? Zero.

The principles in play

When you minister amid opposition, you like to complain, lament: “Lord, do something about this!”

And so, he did. He told me, “Why don’t you go?”

Absurd!

I am a denominational leader. I have other important things to do, like emails and meetings.

After a Jesus moment, I moved my family downtown.

Accessibility: 1. Raphael: 0.

When you minister amid opposition, the task seems impossible.

“Me against 100,000 people? Where do I start? Do I even know how to start? This seems like such a waste. I don’t know the neighbors. Am I to run after cars like Philip? Denominational leaders don’t have non-Christian Ethiopian friends, Lord.”

After a second Jesus moment, I moved my office to a coworking space.

Generosity: 1. Raphael: 0.

That move was really scary.

The owner of the place asked, “So, who are you and what do you do exactly? You’re a pastor? And why do you want to rent an office here?”

“To evangelize you. I am super nice, I promise.”

So, I started a micro-church right in the middle of the downtown district. We meet on Wednesday evening after office hours. Why Wednesday? Accessibility.

No one is downtown Sunday morning. Forget it. Folks work from home on Mondays and Fridays and come downtown for work Tuesday through Thursday. So, Wednesday it is.

I invited the owner of the coworking space to come along.

“What a waste,” I thought. “He’s never going to come.”

This is often what comes to your mind when you minister amid opposition.

But he came! Who knew?

We decided to do a series on the Sermon on the Mount using Dallas Willard’s Divine Conspiracy material. For three weeks in row, he came and even took communion for the first time. I couldn’t believe it. As if the word of God has the power to work in the life of Quebecers, too. Who knew?

The following Wednesday, we had gotten to the part where Jesus says, “The one who is great in the kingdom of God is the one who obeys the law and teaches others to do the same.”

He came to me at the end of the service and said: “I am traveling to France next week. I need to know what you will be teaching next week.”

I said: “Why do you want to know?”

He said: “Did you hear what you just said? I need to know what Jesus asks of me so I can teach others to do the same. Isn’t that what you just said?”

Transferability: 1. Raphael: 0.

Who’s the opposition?

Yes, I sow the gospel amid opposition. But sometimes, I become the opposition to the very gospel I want to sow.

So, don’t do it like me. Do it like Philip. Sow the gospel through accessibility. Sow with lots of generosity, and watch the seed’s power toward transferability. Believe Jesus, the Author and Sustainer of the gospel, who says, “I am with you always—even amid opposition.”

Raphael Anzenberger is the executive director of the French-speaking Baptist Union of Canada, the founder of the innovation hub Station M, the president for imagoDei and an adjunct professor of intercultural studies. This article is adapted from its original presentation to an Ascent curators gathering in Alexandria, Va., on March 19. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

I grew up in a small town in East Texas and lived in Texas until recently.

As a young student, I was in a dual-language program in which I was placed in class with Hispanic English-as-a-Second-Language students. When they would learn English, the dual-language students would learn Spanish. I had more Hispanic friends as a kid than I had white or Black friends.

Before and after graduating from seminary in 2024, I had a hard time getting a job in Texas. My theological positioning on issues like women in ministry and other issues made it near impossible for me to get a job. After a year and a half of applications, a small church in North Carolina called me to be an associate pastor.

Not living in Texas has been a struggle, but what has been more of a struggle has been watching what Texas has become since leaving.

As a pastor in North Carolina, I have watched congregants lose jobs to government budget cuts, and health care and disaster relief put on hold for people in desperate need due to politicians hoping to score points off the suffering of others.

Those were painful things, yet it has been even more painful to hear of and watch friends I grew up with be separated from their families due to deportation or not knowing if they will be allowed to remain in the country, to watch them live in fear while waiting for their lives to change dramatically.

Pastors are meant to be community leaders, and it has been angering to watch my home be changed without any ability to do anything about it. I hope this is an opportunity to make my voice heard, even if I no longer live in Texas.

Immigration proof texts

The Bible has a lot to say about immigration. This debate has been played out over and over again.

Proponents of immigration and the rights of those who have fought to reside in this country have their proof texts—Leviticus 19:33-34; Deuteronomy 10:18-19; Psalm 146:9; the entire book of Ruth; Matthew 25:31-46; the story of the Good Samaritan and more.

Opponents of immigration who support Texas Gov. Greg Abbott’s policies of dehumanization and violence against immigrants have their proof texts as well—Nehemiah, for example.

My goal is not to settle this debate here, because that’s not going to happen. I want to offer a different take. This, to me, is not a political issue or an immigration issue. That debate is insufficient. This is an imago Dei and ecclesiology issue.

Immigrants in God’s image

In a 2024 PRRI American Values survey, “white evangelical Protestants (60 percent) are the only religious group among whom a majority agree that immigrants entering the country illegally are poisoning the blood of the country.”

“Poisoning the blood” is a phrase lifted directly from Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf.

According to PRRI’s survey results, 60 percent of white evangelical Protestants, 46 percent of white Catholics and 36 percent of white nonevangelical Protestants think immigrants are not made in the image of God, based solely on which side of an imaginary border a person was born. This is a major issue.

The Bible claims God made humankind—all humankind—in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27). One of the primary principles Nazi Germany sought to destroy in the German church was the imago Dei.

Once we lose the belief the human being next to us is made in God’s image, it becomes significantly easier to commit violence against one another.

The solution to the onslaught of political violence and hatred of immigrants is preaching and teaching the imago Dei. Our churches need to recapture being human is a value in and of itself, based solely on the love of God and the imago Dei, before we ever begin to discuss the “how” of immigration.

An immigrating church

Secondly, this is a church issue. Baptist life in particular has become so isolated from the global church, we forget many of those who travel to our country are brothers and sisters in Christ and often are members of churches in their country of origin.

As the American church dwindles in attendance, it seems impractical, at the very least, to desire the expulsion of our own church membership. However, churches have become more and more “purified” and isolated within their own echo chambers through social media.

As pastors, our job is to help our people grow. The best way we can offer growth is by exposing congregants to new ideas and people and challenging them to get out of their comfort zone.

That could mean joint worship services with churches outside of our denomination or ethnic group. It could mean learning ancient traditions that may not exist in our modern worship styles. Christ does not call us to sit in our churches mumbling about others outside of it.

I am a new pastor, but the challenges we are facing aren’t new. These issues have happened time and time again, and our churches have failed time and time again. It can happen in the United States if pastors do not do the work to help their congregants appreciate the value of God’s children. It’s time for us to do and be better.

True Head is the associate pastor of First Baptist Church in West Jefferson, N.C. He is a graduate of Baylor University and Baylor’s Truett Theological Seminary, and is native to Athens, Texas. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

You are a witness. What is your testimony?

I am a witness. What is my testimony?

…

Does the question give you cold sweats?

Depending on the day, the time, the situation, it at least gives me pause.

Maybe it’s that we’re unsure of what our witness should be or is or will be. Or we don’t want to hear how others perceive our witness. Actually, that’s what I’m really worried about—but only for one reason. See, my hope is people see Jesus in me and that the Jesus they see is true to who Jesus is and draws people to him.

I know how far off the mark I am, and that’s why the question gives me pause.

This has been imprinted on my mind since my visit yesterday to a memorial museum just off the National Mall in Washington, D.C.

As I descended the stairs to the lower level of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, I couldn’t help but see a seemingly simple statement on the expansive wall in front of me.

Just four words.

“You are my witnesses.”

And the reference—Isaiah 43:10.

To witness is to remember

Given the context, it is clear these words are intended to describe those who survived the Holocaust. But stated as such, these four words also make a claim on all who see them … in that place. And, indeed, the word “Remember” is repeated everywhere.

The hope is, all who see—witness—the museum will in turn give witness to the reality of the Holocaust.

So it doesn’t happen again. To anybody.

I support that hope.

I wanted to read the broader context of those four words. So, when I had the opportunity, I looked up Isaiah 43 on a Bible app. While I know you can look it up, too, I include it here, because it’s just that important.

Take the time to read—really read—the following words from Isaiah 43.

The witness of Isaiah 43:1-13

But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, Jacob,
he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.”

Remember where I was when I saw those four words and their reference—a Holocaust memorial museum. Let the reader hold that in stillness and reverence.

“For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; …
Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
I will bring your children from the east
and gather you from the west.
I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
Bring my sons from afar
and my daughters from the ends of the earth—
everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory,
whom I formed and made.”
Lead out those who have eyes but are blind,
who have ears but are deaf.
All the nations gather together
and the peoples assemble.
Which of their gods foretold this
and proclaimed to us the former things?
Let them bring in their witnesses to prove they were right,
so that others may hear and say, “It is true.”

“You are my witnesses,” declares the Lord,
“and my servant whom I have chosen,
so that you may know and believe me
and understand that I am he.
Before me no god was formed,
nor will there be one after me.
I, even I, am the LORD,
and apart from me there is no savior.
I have revealed and saved and proclaimed—
I, and not some foreign god among you.
You are my witnesses,” declares the LORD, “that I am God.
Yes, and from ancient of days I am he.
No one can deliver out of my hand.
When I act, who can reverse it?”

…

Sit with these words for a moment.

Remember where I saw four of them, standing out starkly on a museum wall—a Holocaust museum wall.

Reading ‘witness’ in context

I’m not an Old Testament scholar and certainly not on expert on Isaiah. There’s much I don’t know and much I can’t say about Isaiah 43. For that reason and others, I left out a portion of verse 3 and all of verse 4, because they introduce a problem I’m not equipped or have the space to deal with here.

But I am a student of, a reader of Scripture. I believe portions of Scripture should be read in their original context, that the original—and full—context of Scripture deeply informs the meaning of short portions.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” is a powerful question because of the context in which we most often encounter it. What we may not know is Jesus was quoting Psalm 22 and most assuredly knew he was. If you haven’t put Jesus’ question in the context of the full psalm, you should do that … after you read the rest of this editorial.

Returning to the four-word quote from Isaiah 43:10: “You are my witnesses” is a powerful statement in the context of a Holocaust museum, but read in the broader context of Isaiah 43:1-13, it challenges even further.

Why we are witnesses

The broader context of those four words from Isaiah 43:10 tell us we are not merely witnesses. Nor are we merely witnesses of horror and tragedy. Nor are we witnesses only so such things never happen again.

Isaiah, quoting the LORD our God, tells us we are witnesses of God. We are witnesses that there is no other god before, beside or behind God. We are witnesses that God delivers and nothing and no one else does.

We are witnesses of who God is and what God has done.

The power of our witness

“You are my witnesses” is a powerful statement in a museum that gives praise to the human armies that liberated the Nazi concentration and extermination camps. Certainly, we should cheer that liberation and give thanks for the liberators, but we mustn’t do so to the neglect or the diminishment of God as our ultimate deliverer.

“You are my witnesses” also is a powerful statement in a city where men and women promise they are our salvation. I assure you, they are not.

“You are my witnesses” is simultaneously a powerful statement of fact and a powerful call to action.

As a statement of fact: Like it or not, you and I are witnesses. Our lives speak. They speak of who we take God to be. What are our lives speaking about God?

As a call to action: If you and I claim the name of Christ, we are and will be his witnesses, in Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the Earth (Acts 1:8)—like it or not. We will witness in word and deed. What witness about Christ will our words and deeds give?

Yes, we are God’s witnesses in our politics, in our economics, in our business dealings, in our spending, in our giving, in our love life, in our friendships, in our family, in our driving, in our recreating, in our watching, in our listening. In all we do, we are communicating something about God.

In all we do, does our witness tell the world there is no god but God, nor has there ever been, nor will there ever be? That’s a bold testimony at the present time.

In all we do, does our witness tell the world God is the only Savior, the only Deliverer? That’s a bold testimony at the present time.

I admit this is more sermon than editorial.

I was a pastor. So, sometimes I preach.

Now, I’m an editor. So, sometimes I write.

I am a Christian. So, I’m always a witness.

Fellow Christian, so are you.

What God are we proclaiming?

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

“When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less,” says Humpty Dumpty, defending his misuse of the word “glory” in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass.

Meanwhile, on this side of the Looking Glass, some people use the term “complementarity” to cover a broad—and sometimes incompatible and oppositional—spectrum of beliefs, spanning from hierarchy to mutuality.

But a word cannot mean what we choose it to mean. So, how should we understand and apply biblical complementarity?

An overview of opposing viewpoints

At the more fundamentalist end of the spectrum, scholars identifying as “complementarians” argue that while women and men hold equal value, they perform different functions, and women must fill separate, specific roles divinely designed to complement men.

They believe God ordained a permanent hierarchy granting men unilateral authority and assigning women subjugated roles. This includes prescribing that a wife “serve as [her husband’s] helper in managing the household and nurturing the next generation.”

Some theologians argue the term “hierarchy” would represent this position better, as it promotes an over/under dynamic between genders, rather than a mutual and complementary one.

In contrast, those identifying as “egalitarian” view complementarity through the lens of equality, unity and mutuality between the sexes. They argue hierarchical structures within complementarity mislead—and fundamentally contradict—the concept of complementarity.

Egalitarians decry that the trickle-down application of the fundamentalist perspective often perpetuates harm by affording women less voice, choice and dignity.

Since both the complementarian and egalitarian positions—and a wide array of ideologies in between—fall under the same banner of “complementarity,” the term requires parsing out.

The name says it all

Merriam-Webster defines “complement” as “something that fills up, completes, or makes better or perfect; one of two mutually completing parts.”

Based on this definition, true complementarity requires mutuality and results in the betterment of both parties, therefore rendering some usages of the term inaccurate and misleading.

For instance, any dynamic that—in practice—devalues, dehumanizes or disparages women falls short of “filling up” as true complementarity requires.

Likewise, any understanding of complementarity that fragments females and demands they live small, silent and subjugated lives proves incongruent with “something that … completes.”

And certainly, any ideology that perpetuates the harm, exploitation or abuse of another directly opposes “making better or perfect.”

Therefore, a construct that damages or divides cannot call itself complementarity.

And if the more theologically minded aren’t swayed or satisfied by Merriam Webster’s secular definition, the creation narrative and other Scripture passages lend further clarity to the proper understanding and application of complementarity.

The application of Scripture

The authors of Scripture lay down a path of wholeness, mutuality and unity wide enough for both men and women to walk along together, shoulder to shoulder. The path winds through the Old Testament into the New—from God’s perfect creation in the garden, through generations of human sin, and to his perfect restoration in the garden-within-a-city.

In Genesis 1:26–28, God creates man and woman—and thus all humanity—in his image. Jointly, man and woman exercise dominion and reflect the imago Dei. Together, they walk with God in the Garden of Eden—equal in dignity and purpose, though unique in form.

Sin and its associated curse enter the world and distort the God-human relationship and the male-female relationship. That tragic distortion fuels the narrative for the rest of Scripture but proves temporary.

Redemption ultimately will restore equality and flatten human hierarchy.

The prophet Joel describes an image of events that will occur in that time of restoring heaven and earth. Joel speaks for God, disclosing: “I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy … even on my servants, both men and women. … And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Joel 2:29–32, emphasis added).

The apostle Paul further confirms godliness neither is hierarchical nor tailored along gender lines. Thanks to Jesus, “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, nor is there male and female” (Galatians 3:28).

Both men and women submit to God the Father, follow the example of Christ, and walk in the Spirit. As children of God, both sons and daughters share in his suffering and share in his glory. (Romans 8:16–17).

Paul especially stressed the need for mutual submission between husbands and wives to achieve unity in marriage (Ephesians 5:21). Jesus even prayed for oneness for all who believe in him (John 17:20-23).

In his God-given glimpse of heaven, the beloved disciple John describes a vision of wholeness: “Every nation, tribe, people, and language” stands before the throne and praises God. No mention of gender. The “old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4).

God dwells with his people and his people with him. Finally, the curse brought about by sin is vanquished (Revelation 22:3).

Shifting back toward unity and wholeness

Prominent New Testament scholar N.T. Wright centers his philosophy on the idea God created the world in—and purposed it for—unity and wholeness.

Wright believes God divinely designed the dualities of creation—including heaven and earth, land and sea, male and female—to function in complementarity with one another. Divorced from the gospel’s overarching emphasis on unity, however, men and women will find themselves competing for power and dignity, rather than celebrating their unique differences.

Viewing the gospel as a narrative of God’s mission to redeem and unify creation, Wright posits Jesus’s life, death and resurrection inaugurated a new era for humanity. In this era, God has invited believers to partner with him in restoring creation to the wholeness—read: complementarity—he originally intended.

“Heaven and earth, it seems, are not after all poles apart,” says Wright. “[T]hey are different, radically different; but they are made for each other in the same way (Revelation is suggesting) as male and female.

“And, when they finally come together, that will be cause for rejoicing in the same way that a wedding is: a creational sign that God’s project is going forward; that opposite poles within creation are made for union, not competition; that love and not hate have the last word in the universe.” (Surprised by Hope, 116).

A full scope of Scripture—not merely a few proof texts—defines complementarity as a mutual partnership between men and women through which two parts together strive toward unity and wholeness. This definition and application of complementarity respects the dignity of both sexes and requires the subjugation of neither.

Biblical complementarity

Biblical complementarity reflects God’s image into the world, and while allowing for gender differences and individual identities, proves incompatible with hierarchy, patriarchy or sexism. Obscuring hierarchy as complementarity, then, proves misleading and can allow misogyny to masquerade under a more innocuous moniker.

Accordingly, we propose a clarification of terminology, the application of Scripture and a shift back toward a working definition of complementarity that compels mutuality, fosters the flourishing of both genders and promotes unity instead of hierarchy.

A word cannot mean what we choose it to mean. The definition we ascribe to complementarity determines the cultural connotation and trickle-down application. It also communicates our beliefs about the value and dignity of women and impacts their safety and status in the home, church, workplace and broader society.

Thus, if—as Scripture and Wright contend—God purposed the world for unity and wholeness and has invited believers to join him in creation’s renewal and restoration, we must accept God’s invitation to true complementarity.

Lauren Roberts Lukefahr is a life-long resident of the Houston area. Her household currently includes a handful of beloved pets, plants and people. She is a senior director at Alvarez & Marsal, a student at Dallas Theological Seminary and a member of Houston’s First Baptist Church Sienna.

Christine Crawford is an advocacy writer, theology geek and the founder of The Holy Shift, a ministry that explores the upside-down kingdom of God as the right way forward in faith and life.

The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the authors.

Working together for a better world

The United States was the only country to vote March 4 against a United Nations resolution declaring an International Day of Hope. The resolution was approved 161 to 1.

The U.S. delegate said the text “contains references to diversity, equity and inclusion that conflict with U.S. policies that seek to eliminate all forms of discrimination and create equal opportunities for all.”

Moreover, the United States was one of just three nations, along with Israel and Argentina, to vote against a resolution calling for an International Day of Peaceful Coexistence.

The U.S. representative expressed concern the resolution “advances a program of soft global governance that is inconsistent with U.S. sovereignty.”

If our worst fears regarding war do come to pass, our epitaph will read, “Ideology destroys Earth.”

John Paul Lederach, professor of international peacebuilding at the University of Notre Dame, wrote an essay in 2002 titled, “Breaking the cycle of violence.”

In the article, Lederach contends the most important question the United States and the West can ask other nations is, “How can we help you meet the fundamental needs of your people?”

It is a foundational principle in many religions that we are created in God’s image, and that every human life has intrinsic value and is worthy of respect.

Can we not just work together as human beings to build a better world?

Terry Hansen
Milwaukee, Wisc.

RE: Voices: The slow, tragic demise of evangelism

Your two-part series on the demise of evangelism in our time struck a nerve with me.

While a ministerial student at Wayland Baptist College during the summer of 1959, I hitch-hiked from New York City to Plainview, Texas, and then from Texas to North Bend, Ore. On both ends of that journey, I rode with Wayland student friends. I shared the good news of Jesus inside the vehicles of others over countless miles.

For a period of time, I pastored small churches in Texas, New Mexico and California while teaching full time in the field of education. For many years, members of my family engaged in Christian drama.

My wife Shannah and I have been involved in jail ministry in a variety of ways. Today, we still share the good news, but we and our Christlike relatives and friends, who are better examples than us, find it hard to witness in the age of Christian nationalism.

Many people now view evangelicals as hypocrites due to the mean-spirited actions of today’s religious zealots who are hungry for political power. Evangelicals now are viewed as members of a political bloc, instead of “the bearers of good news about Jesus Christ.” My wife and I no longer call ourselves “evangelicals.” We simply identify as “Christian.”

Satan is surely rejoicing about the bad news of Christian nationalism. Many of our friends and relatives support the movement because of their views about abortion and homosexuality.

Leon Blevins
Flower Mound, Texas

RE: Voices: What would you do if you were Esther?

I think this article you chose to publish might have been more than I can handle.

I think we need to be careful when trying to make comparisons of current politicians and events against those portrayed in the inspired word, especially when there is a political tint to the observations.

I sort of find the parallels drawn ludicrous and easily could make arguments that the author had it backwards. The author indicated we should find our own credible Ukrainian sources, rather than supply us with certifiable evidence.

This article never should have been published, in my opinion.

I’ve been a fan of the Baptist Standard since it was a small, paper magazine we picked up at church. This might well be the end of my interest in your publication. My intention is to unsubscribe. We’ll see.

Andy Pardue
Mesquite, Texas

It was dark as I headed to church one recent Wednesday evening. Traffic was heavy. Pedestrians were hard to see, crossing between cars, so I focused.

At the Westheimer and Dairy Ashford intersection for my turn-off, I was about five cars back from the traffic light. I could barely make out on the median a man with a cup and some sort of paper in his hand. He had a bucket to sit on, though at the moment, he was walking down the median, car to car, looking into each driver’s window soliciting for help.

The man was dressed in a pair of jeans, a pull-over shirt, a jacket and athletic shoes. There in the dark of night, in a not-so-safe and very busy intersection near 7 p.m., he was doing what he could to survive.

He came to my window, but I looked straight ahead. I pacified myself with the thought we help people like this man every day in our church.

As he moved down the median, I watched him in my mirror. The darkness cloaked his presence. I could make out his outline and shoes, nothing more.

His beginnings

I thought of this man’s beginning. He looked about 40 years old. I wondered about the day his mom gave him birth. I am sure it was in a hospital. I imagine the greatest care was given to him and his mom.

I would not doubt a dad was somewhere nearby waiting with nervous expectation. Maybe a dad wasn’t there. Maybe his mother decided, in the father’s neglectful absence, she’d brave the task of raising a child alone. Maybe the woman’s mother was there for her, or a sister or a friend.

Let’s say it was on a March 5th when the woman gave birth to this man who is now making his way back toward my truck after exhaustingly searching for help from every car awaiting the light to change.

After she gave birth to a baby boy, she held him. She caressed him. Perhaps she even prayed for him and his future. She wondered what his life would be like, what theirs together might face.

I would imagine she was full of hope, even if she faced the harshest of realities. She had dreams for this baby son she held in her arms, all wrapped in the warm white and green-striped blanket, wearing a little blue onesie the hospital provided along with a little blue cap for his tiny head.

The mom soon would take him to her bare apartment. Again, maybe the proud daddy was in tow. Maybe not. The little boy would speak his first words, take his first steps, enter his first day of school. He would be in school choirs, play on school sports teams and go on school field trips with his classmates.

His present

I could not help but stare at the man with the cup and a piece of paper, in a pair of jeans, a pull-over shirt, a jacket and sports shoes.

I was struck with the question: “Is this what this mother envisioned for her son? Did she imagine him being homeless with no hope, no job, no one to lean on, depending on the kindness of strangers for each day’s sustenance?”

Just then, someone rolled down their window and handed him a bottle of water.

Walking back to his spot at the head of the intersection, the light turned green before I could give him the only dollar I had on me.

I drove forward heading to church, looking in my rearview mirror in the dark at the man I did not help.

What caused him to be in this situation? Was it a bad break or a bad choice. Was he raised in a home or put out as a teen? Were drugs involved or some mental illness? I prayed for him, but this seemed empty.

His presence

I was running late for church. I tried to justify not helping, but this did me no good. God gave me a story, a picture, a visible need, and I drove by. How could I face our church family and listen to Pastor Seye lead our Bible study, knowing I left a man without giving aid?

Do you know what? I turned my truck around. I got back into that traffic on Westheimer, first going in the opposite direction of church, then U-turning so I could get back in line for the light.

I wondered if the man would be there or if he had been an angel God used to test me. I prayed he was a man and still there. He was.

As he made his walk to my truck seven cars from the light, I rolled down my window immediately, waiting. I had my dollar bill in my left hand. When he came to my truck, I held it out.

He took it and said: “Thank you. God bless you.”

He made his way down the median in the dark of night.

The next morning, the Christian radio station I listen to played a new song called “Looking Up.” The song told of a homeless guy on a median in the dark, who was out of luck and had no way out but looking up to the God who cares.

My encounter was no accident. I pray we see with the eyes of God.

Johnny Teague is the senior pastor of Church at the Cross in West Houston and the author of several books, including his newest The Lost Diary of Mary Magdalene. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

I arrived in Muleshoe in 1991 at age 28. The changes to rural Texas have been drastic and rapid. Many of those changes impact both rural and urban areas.

For instance, demographic shifts, declining volunteerism, political division and religious disinterest impact all of society. However, some changes are unique to rural life. Many of these changes are unintended consequences.

Unintended consequences arise from societal choices, legislation, technological advances and more. They may be positive, neutral or negative.

For instance, the invention and proliferation of the cell phone enabled greater freedom in communication and data. An unintended consequence was the loss of privacy.

As Lee Child wrote: “Imagine the uproar if the Federal government tried to make everyone wear a radio transmitter around their neck so we can keep track of their movements. But people happily carry their cell phones in their purses and pockets” (A Wanted Man).

Unintended consequences come in all shapes and sizes.

I want to give you a small sample of the effects of unintended consequences faced in rural living. The issues I describe are not unique to rural Texas, but to rural America.

Speed

I am grateful for the 75 mph speed limit. Most of my hospital visits are 70 miles to the southeast and 100 miles to the northeast. I remember making those trips at 55 mph.

Sen. Phil Gramm argued in favor of raising the speed limit: “Most people traveling from Dallas to Lubbock give up before they get there.”

I am thankful for the additional speed. Higher speed limits allow people and goods to move from population center to population center more quickly. However, the 75 mph speed limit had unintended consequences that radically reshaped rural living.

The 75 mph speed limit allows people to live in urban areas but make a rural living. Farmers and dairymen now can live 100 miles or more from their land. Their families gain the advantage of a variety of shopping and dining, easier access to medical care, private school choices, access to university events and more.

However, a rural community deeply feels the loss of every family that moves to the city. The school system loses good students and involved parents, merchants lose valuable customers and churches lose good members. The 75 mph speed limit enables all of it.

Mechanization

When rural America was settled, there was a family on every 40 acres. As mechanized farming gained traction, fewer people were required to farm the same number of acres. Since the 1960s, the size and scope of farm implements have grown exponentially.

Before performing a funeral in a rural community, a proud deacon gave me a tour of their facility.

“This church was overbuilt the day it was completed. Eight-row equipment changed this part of the country,” he said.

Today, farmers use 24-row equipment. Satellite and cellular technology enable farmers to manage sprinkler systems from anywhere, allowing farmers to live away from their land.

The advances in agriculture feed and clothe billions of people but require fewer workers. Factory and dock workers worry about losing jobs to automation. Those unintended consequences came to the farm decades ago.

Health care

A topic too complicated for this brief article is rural health care. The perils of rural health care are covered extensively in regional and national media.

Rural hospitals struggle daily to provide care and cover expenses. The health professionals who serve rural patients are to be commended for their dedication.

Education

The Texas state legislature is debating a policy called “school choice.” For the last few years, the rural legislators have taken the blame for gumming up the works and denying “school choice.”

Rural school systems will feel the changes in student enrollment quickly. Rural districts are concerned by the potential loss of a valued student and a loss in funding. Every remaining student will feel that loss.

In a city filled with 6-A school systems, there might appear to be an endless supply of students to accommodate every educational circumstance. But in rural America, where every student makes a difference and contributes to the life of the school, the “school choice” debate is personal and will be filled with unintended consequences.

Community

I never would suggest rural challenges are more significant than urban challenges. They’re simply different.

If you gather rural pastors, they will speak of these issues and others. There is a strong commitment and calling among rural pastors. Christ is neither an urban nor rural Savior.

As I write this, I plan to have dinner with a young couple creating a path in the cattle industry. Their life choices are rural choices. They will raise and educate their children, encourage others and serve their Lord in our community. Our job is to ensure they have the fellowship of a Texas Baptist church that nurtures them along the way.

One unintended consequence of their choice is they never will be required to leave early because of the traffic. They may leave early because of snow, but never traffic.

Stacy Conner is pastor of First Baptist Church in Muleshoe. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

(RNS)—There’s a new sin on the block, and its name is Empathy.

Actually, people are painting it both as a sin and a threat.

As a sin: Joe Rigney’s new book The Sin of Empathy released late last month, tells us empathy “often leads to cowardice” and “frequently leads to brazen malice and cruelty.”

Rigney is a fellow of theology at New St. Andrews College and an associate pastor under Doug Wilson at Christ Church in Moscow, Idaho. Both Wilson and Christ Church have been in the news for, among other things, their advocacy of Christian nationalism.

As a threat: In a recent appearance on the Joe Rogan podcast, Elon Musk described empathy as the “fundamental weakness of Western civilization” and, like Rigney, expressed concern about “weaponized empathy” or, as he also describes it, “the empathy exploit.”

This is hardly the first appearance of the idea empathy might be sinful. Rigney himself began writing on it in 2019, with an article titled “The Enticing Sin of Empathy.” But I first encountered the idea, albeit not exactly under this description, in the 1990s, when I read Hannah Arendt’s famous book Eichmann in Jerusalem.

Adolf Eichmann

Adolf Eichmann was a key official in the Nazi party who played an important role in organizing Adolf Hitler’s “final solution.”

Arendt’s book recounts Eichmann’s trial in Nuremburg and dwells at some length on his sense of duty. Like most people, Eichmann was susceptible to humane feelings toward his victims, but he suppressed those for the sake of “duty.”

He, too, seems to have been worried that empathy might be sinful. Arendt talks about how he felt “uncomfortable” about two occasions when he made exceptions for Jews to whom he had personal connections.

She also talks about how, in his regard for the Nuremburg judges who went out of their way to try to understand him and to treat him with consideration, Eichmann mistook their “humanity for softness.”

‘Untethered empathy’

In Rigney’s book, weaponizers of empathy include persecuted LGBTQ people looking for compassion and support, people who accuse church leaders or their spouses of abuse and people who claim to be victims of racism. In one of many illustrations, he writes:

“Why is untethered empathy so destructive? [Earlier] we noted the way that weaponized empathy can be used to manipulate others. At the extreme end we can think of the way that the transgender movement uses the prospect of suicide to manipulate parents into ‘affirming’ their child’s ‘gender identity.’ ‘Would you rather have a dead son or a live daughter?’ This is a hostage situation filled with manipulation.”

Although Rigney does not invoke duty per se, he goes on to argue the path of virtue is to resist such manipulative ploys, ensuring one’s feeling for others remains tethered to the shore of truth and reality.

Rigney is careful to say it is not compassion he opposes, just empathy—and, indeed, just one kind of empathy. He identifies a morally neutral form of empathy, which he describes as emotion-sharing—feeling the feelings of another.

The vicious form is what he characterizes as “an excess of compassion, when our identification with and sharing of the emotions of others overwhelms our minds and sweeps us off our feet.” This is what he calls “untethered” empathy.

If this definition strikes you as unusual, you’re not alone, as Daniel Kleven points out in his paper “Empathy is not a Sin, Part 2: The Troubling Fruit.”

Cruel to be kind?

In connecting empathy with cruelty, Rigney focuses on the way empathy can be selective, privileging those with whom we empathize over others who may have just as much claim on us and our resources but, for whatever reason, have not garnered our empathy. This is a point many have made in writing against empathy and related emotions.

In addition to citing psychologist Paul Bloom’s well-known book, Against Empathy, Rigney also cites Arendt’s On Revolution, albeit selectively and missing her bigger picture. The money quote from Arendt, striking when taken out of context, is: “Pity … possesses a greater capacity for cruelty than cruelty itself.”

Bloom’s point, as well as Arendt’s, is founded on the idea empathy—or pity—involves significant feeling-sharing, which nobody does, or even can, manage to show toward everyone who might deserve it, and which some are inclined to indulge and amplify simply for its own sake.

Given their characterizations of empathy and pity, these are sensible points. If what it is for a field medic to empathize with a soldier who has just lost a leg to a grenade is to share his feelings—writhing in agony, feeling overwhelmed by the pain, and so on—then, please, let us have field medics who lack empathy.

But, at the same time, I doubt anybody outside the anti-empathy crowd really thinks of empathy in quite this way.

Rigney’s arguments notwithstanding, I think it is just obvious the fact empathy can be weaponized and can lead to “cowardice” or even cruelty in the ways he describes doesn’t make it sinful. It makes it risky. But a lot of good things are risky. Love is risky, and in precisely the same ways.

Irresponsible packaging

The “hostage situation” Rigney describes easily could be reframed in terms of love rather than empathy. In fact, it is reframed that way in a Gospel Coalition article by Justin Taylor that Rigney quotes immediately after the “hostage situation” bit.

Likewise for the point about unfairness: Love can lead us to treat people unfairly, privileging those we love over those we don’t, and it certainly can be overindulged simply for its own sake. One hopes Rigney is not preparing a follow-up book called The Sin of Love.

At best, Rigney’s arguments establish a modest conclusion, one most carefully expressed as something like “untethered feeling-sharing is risky in some ways.” Repackaging this under the flashy title The Sin of Empathy might sell books, but it is irresponsible and pernicious.

‘Common-sense empathy’

Normally when people talk about empathy, they don’t have Rigney’s “untethered feeling-sharing” in mind. Rather, they have in mind something like putting yourself in someone else’s shoes and doing your best to attend to and identify with their feelings, their interests and their desires as they themselves understand them. Call this “common-sense” empathy.

Now, return to Rigney’s illustration of the weaponization of empathy. His choice of case is telling. Whatever else might be going on when parents are being given suicide statistics in an effort to encourage them to empathize with and support their trans kids, untethered feeling-sharing is not what’s at issue. It’s not even on the horizon.

The typical situation where once-loving parents are rejecting, or considering rejecting, their trans kid—or worse—is one where feeling-sharing is largely absent, as well as common-sense empathy, compassion and even sympathy.

They are not in danger of being overly immersed in their trans kid’s feelings. Typically, and understandably, given they are not themselves trans, they barely even can relate to those feelings. What they are in danger of is hardness of heart.

By describing this situation in the terms he does—a hostage situation, emotional blackmail, a case where empathy is being weaponized—Rigney is discouraging any movement whatsoever from the status quo toward feeling-sharing, putting oneself in the other’s shoes, even simple compassion or sympathy.

Empathy suppression

Rigney likely would insist he is only advocating empathy be tethered to truth and reality. But relying on “truth and reality” as one’s only anchors is itself risky. How risky depends on the clarity of one’s vision.

Eichmann well might have said his discomfort on the two occasions when he spared Jews from being murdered was a result of allowing empathy to come untethered from truth and reality. To avoid harming others, we need all the tools God has given us—our capacity to discern truth and reality, for sure, but also our capacity for empathy.

I’ll be the first to acknowledge Nazi analogies are overused and polarizing, but Arendt’s study of Eichmann was a study in common humanity—the banality of evil and the potential for it in all of us. Part of what she showed us is mistaking humanity for softness is dangerous.

Musk is right about one thing: Empathy is an exploit—in the computer hacker’s sense of the term. It’s a back door through which people we have become hardened against actually might get through to us. Suppressing it makes it easier for us to remain hardened—to persist in taking advantage of them, abusing them, oppressing them.

Empathy suppression is what helped Eichmann and others steel themselves in the face of other people’s suffering to carry out their military duties.

It’s what Rigney pretty explicitly wants people to do when confronted with the demands of the people he describes as “weaponizers”—persecuted LGBTQ people looking for compassion and support, people who accuse church leaders or their spouses of abuse and people who claim to be victims of racism.

He wants us not to cave in to the “ideology of victimhood,” but in pressing this case in the way he does, he only risks encouraging us to victimize others further.

Michael C. Rea is the Rev. John A. O’Brien Professor of Philosophy at the University of Notre Dame and co-director of the Center for Philosophy of Religion. He is an honorary professor at the School of Divinity at University of St. Andrews. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.