What follows, I acknowledge, will be a bit combative. I mean to spur, not to spar.

My mom has said more times than I can count, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.”

Yes, mom, and sometimes, a real sour pickle is what’s needed. And besides, I’m not out to catch flies today. I’m after something far more precious—one large part of the body of Christ.

That being said, my observation of now-decades in ministry among Baptists is the majority of Baptists don’t get too wrapped up in how their denomination functions, or even how their own church functions.

Oh, some in that majority of Baptists take time to criticize leadership and decisions made, to complain about this or that thing changing or not being to their liking.

But that majority of Baptists—for various reasons—often isn’t in the business meetings, isn’t part of the decision-making, and a large number are giving their best efforts elsewhere.

If you’re in that majority of Baptists and you’re reading this, bless you. Hang with me until the end of this editorial.

If you’re in the minority of Baptists fully vested in Baptist business and work and you’re reading this, bless you, too. But don’t think you’re (we’re) off the hook.

By the numbers

The following isn’t going to be scientific, exactly, but the numbers will be close enough to illustrate my point. I mean, why else would I choose these numbers?

I’m going to use the number of registered messengers to the 2025 Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting in Dallas as an example of why I say the majority of Baptists aren’t wrapped up in how their denomination functions. In this case, “the majority of Baptists” are Southern Baptists, but the principle holds true for all Baptists I know.

The SBC reported, by June 11, 10,599 messengers had registered their attendance at the 2025 SBC annual meeting. Messengers are sent by local SBC churches. The SBC reported 46,876 churches in 2024.

For the sake of argument, let’s assume each of those 10,599 messengers represented one church apiece for 10,599 churches. If that were true—and it’s not—then just shy of 23 percent of SBC churches would have been represented at the 2025 annual meeting.

Far fewer than even 8,000 churches actually were represented—2,648, as reported by Baptist Press, just shy of 6 percent of SBC churches.

Compared to the reported number of SBC church members in 2024—12,722,266—the 10,599 registered messengers were 0.08 percent of Southern Baptists. Hello!

Of the 10,599 messengers, 5,632—0.04 percent of Southern Baptists—voted on a constitutional amendment to bar from SBC membership any church that affirms, appoints or employs a woman as any kind of pastor or elder. And 60.74 percent of that number—3,421, or 0.027 percent of Southern Baptists—were in favor of the amendment. Double hello!

So, only a fraction of a fraction of Southern Baptists attended a meeting to vote on an amendment that supposedly is one of the most contentious issues in Baptist life today.

Not unusual

State convention annual meeting attendance fares better than the national convention, but attendees still are a minority of the whole.

Let’s start with the number of registered messengers from Texas who attended the 2025 SBC annual meeting—2,171. There are two state conventions in Texas represented in that number—the Baptist General Convention of Texas and the Southern Baptists of Texas Convention.

I’ll assume a generous 50/50+1 split of messengers between the BGCT and SBTC, since some churches are dually aligned with both state conventions—1,085 BGCT and 1,086 SBTC messengers, respectively.

Now, I’m going to shift the comparison. Let’s compare the two numbers from the national convention with the number of messengers attending their respective state convention annual meetings in 2024.

In 2024, 1,094 messengers attended the BGCT annual meeting, and 864 messengers attended the SBTC annual meeting. The numbers are roughly comparable. As I said, this isn’t exactly scientific; it’s illustrative.

The BGCT claims more than 5,300 churches, and the SBTC claims more than 2,800 churches. The point here is not which convention has more churches. For one thing, some churches are part of both state conventions. The point here is the level of involvement among Baptists.

As with my assumption about SBC messengers, if we assume annual meeting messengers to each state convention represent a single church apiece, then only 1,094 BGCT churches (about 20 percent) and 864 SBTC churches (31 percent) would have engaged in the business of their respective conventions—a minority of the whole in each case.

But, like the SBC, far fewer churches were represented at each state convention. Meaning, at the state level, only a fraction of a fraction of Baptists in Texas engage in denominational business.

It really is a sour pickle for some when looked at that way.

The whys

There are all kinds of reasons people don’t attend state or national conventions—or the business meetings of their local churches. Time, money and physical ability are the reasons stated most often. Apathy or lack of trust are at least as frequent but implied reasons.

Despite not attending meetings and giving the impression they don’t care, most Baptists really do care about certain things. They want Baptists to be seen and known for doing good in the world. They really care about people becoming followers of Jesus. They love baptisms.

They don’t like meetings, drama, controversy or shenanigans by their leaders. And they don’t like waste—especially wasting their time.

To the majority of Baptists who really do care but aren’t in the business, and who do have the time, money and physical ability to get involved, some of that business affects what you care about most. Don’t let the minority carry the day. If and when you can be there physically, be there.

If you don’t have the time, money or physical ability to be there, you still can make your positions clear to those making the official decisions—and then hold the decision-makers accountable.

To the minority of Baptists fully vested in Baptist business and work: Have we given the majority of Baptists the right reason to be more involved in Baptist business and work? Or are we so wrapped up in the formalities of running a denomination that we’ve lost sight of the whole point?

The point

The majority of Baptists do care. They care very much about the point, not so much about the formalities. The point of being Baptist is to love God and love people—to love God with our whole being and to love people as Jesus loves us.

And there’s the honey. The majority of Baptists know where the honey is. Too often, it’s not at our meetings. More often, it’s in one-on-one conversations and ministry moments outside our meetings. The minority of (us) Baptists so wrapped up in the formalities of running a denomination need to remember where the honey is.

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.

CORRECTION: Percentages have been corrected, thanks to the careful eye of a Baptist Standard reader.

Some of the best stories involve complex characters—heroes who aren’t all good, villains who aren’t all bad. Clint Eastwood is a master of these stories.

If the Southern Baptist Convention were a person, it definitely would be a complex character, though probably not in a Clint Eastwood movie. And complex characters can be challenging.

Much of what Southern Baptists have done during their history can be classified as heroic—things like faithful pastorates, disaster relief and sending missionaries all over the world. Southern Baptists celebrate and champion these kinds of things during their annual meetings.

On the flip side, Southern Baptists were birthed out of their early support for slavery, they engaged in a bitter battle over the Bible for the better part of two decades, and too many among them mishandled sexual abuse.

Additionally, Southern Baptists differ significantly from the broader society, other Christians and even some other Baptists on a range of social and moral issues, and they haven’t always expressed their differences with others with kindness and grace.

It’s that flip side that’s center stage in so much SBC controversy and for which the SBC and Southern Baptists are known by many.

SBC controversies have captured headlines over the years—and rightfully so. The topics involved are significant, evidenced by the degree and extent to which Southern Baptists have fought over them and disagreed with others about them.

And yet, controversy is not and never has been the sum total of the SBC.

Some key moments during the 2025 SBC annual meeting in Dallas might illustrate my point.

Featured controversies

I will start with the controversies that gained the most attention from messengers during this annual meeting. I won’t report them in detail. Reports are available here and here.

The two items anticipated to be the most contentious were the motion to abolish the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission and the motion to amend the SBC constitution to exclude churches employing or appointing women as pastors of any kind or as elders—which is why SBC President Clint Pressley skipped a raised ballot vote and went straight to a paper ballot on both.

What I will say here is the discussion on each motion didn’t rise to expectations—meaning, some of the people sitting around me anticipated “drama” (their word), and there wasn’t any.

On the matter of women as pastors, this really isn’t an issue for most Southern Baptists anymore. Motions, debates and votes during the last few years make clear the majority of Southern Baptists are opposed to women being pastors.

The controversy inside the SBC right now isn’t over opposition to women pastors. It’s over how far to go in codifying and enforcing that position.

The ongoing consequences of mishandling sexual abuse allegations was an undercurrent throughout the annual meeting—specifically, the cost and risk of lawsuits associated with those allegations and their mishandling. Those lawsuits received considerable attention from SBC Executive Committee President Jeff Iorg and others.

Despite that undercurrent, it wasn’t until Southern Baptist Theological Seminary President Al Mohler’s seminary report that a particular person’s name was spoken. A Southern Seminary alum and convention messenger asked Mohler if he would pray for fellow alum and recently deceased abuse survivor Jennifer Lyell’s family and friends. And Mohler did.

Whatever one might think of Mohler and the fact he couldn’t easily say, “No,” in that moment, it was an important moment—I would say a sacred moment. And the only time I heard Jennifer Lyell mentioned in the room.

Holy moments

As significant as those things are—and I rank the SBC’s handling of sexual abuse allegations as top among them—there were many moments significant in other ways throughout the annual meeting.

One could start with the Woman’s Missionary Union celebration on June 8. WMU—the women and the organization—definitely fit in the hero category.

One could continue with the reunions of friends and former coworkers throughout the four days. Who of us doesn’t relish a hug from a longtime friend we haven’t seen in, well, a long time? Or the gaze and listening ear of someone who knows us well and still cares about us and loves us? I witnessed a lot of that.

When I see people reunite like that, I can’t help but experience it vicariously—because I’ve experienced it directly—as a holy moment. The SBC annual meeting is full of that.

And there are moments like Jeremy McMorris’ prayer to start the second day of business. McMorris, pastor of Paramount Baptist Church in Amarillo, prayed for the “Spirit’s help” and God’s direction.

“I pray that the good news of the gospel would keep us in this room humble this morning. Father, would you please keep us humble and make us men and women who are holy because of what Christ has done for us,” he continued.

“We’ve got business to attend to, and you know that we need wisdom,” because “we’re going to vote on things and discuss things, … and we desperately need minds that are full of the truth from your word. We need hearts that are warmed and given instruction by your Spirit.”

Whatever a person might think about the decisions ultimately reached, all followers of Jesus ought to cheer prayers like McMorris’.

Funny moments

Several asked me Wednesday about the tone of the room and the debate on motions. Every time, I used the word “amicable.” And that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it might have been an answer to McMorris’ prayer.

I also said there were funny moments that popped up throughout the day, which is its own kind of gift.

Like Registration Secretary Don Currence’s bobblehead and Gateway Seminary President Adam Groza’s long bouncing bangs.

Currence is an annual meeting celebrity. Some people actually wore t-shirts with a photo of him and “Currence for Prez” on them. When Currence was called to the podium to conduct a ballot vote Wednesday morning, he placed a bobblehead of himself at the front of the podium briefly before putting it back in his jacket and saying, “Now, we have to get serious.”

Later, at the conclusion of Groza’s report on Gateway Seminary, a messenger from Oklahoma asked him what product he uses in his hair.

Groza responded, “At gs.edu/transparency, you can go and learn a lot about all that we do … a lot, but not everything.”

And then there was the messenger standing in line at the mic who, after seeing himself on the large screens, tried to fix his hair and finally gave up … all while another messenger in front of him was expressing a serious point, and earnestly so, at the same mic. I guess you had to be there.

Does the comedy obscure the controversy? No. But neither should the jovial or holy moments go unacknowledged. We can grieve the bad and be grateful for the good, because together they stand as testimony that controversy isn’t the sum total of the SBC. Southern Baptists are complex characters—just like everyone else—who deserve the grace to be fully human.

What makes for a good story? Well, that’s the stuff of opinions. Does the SBC stand among the best stories? Again, that’s subjective. But one thing is for sure, the SBC certainly can fill the role.

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.

Southern Baptists will practice their religious freedom June 8-11 by gathering in downtown Dallas for their annual meeting. They will visit exhibits and friends, hear reports and sermons, celebrate mission and ministry, and conduct business. Adopting resolutions will be part of that business. At least one of the proposed resolutions contains a puzzle for religious freedom.

Eight resolutions have been proposed for consideration during the 2025 Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting. One celebrates the 100th anniversary of the Cooperative Program. Another celebrates the 100th anniversary of the Baptist Faith and Message, with special honor for the 2000 version. And one is the annual expression of appreciation to the host city.

Then there are the headline-grabbing resolutions: condemnation of sports betting; a lengthy resolution to ban pornography; an even lengthier resolution on gender, marriage and family; a resolution to abolish abortion; and advocacy for international religious freedom.

It’s part of that last resolution that makes me say, “Wait a minute.”

Resolution on religious freedom

The proposed language of “On Advocating for International Religious Freedom” contends, according to Scripture, “there is one mediator between God and man, and that mediator is not the civil government but Christ Jesus.”

No argument there, but a hearty, “Amen.”

The resolution then quotes Article XVII of the Baptist Faith and Message 2000: “God alone is Lord of the conscience, and He has left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men which are contrary to His Word or not contained in it.”

There is no argument with God alone being Lord of the conscience. This is just a basic and historic Baptist principle.

There isn’t much debate anymore among Southern Baptists about what is “contrary” to God’s word, but there is significant disagreement across Baptists in general. Women pastors is but one example.

While most of the rest of the resolution wouldn’t raise much of an eyebrow with most Baptists, it’s the first “Resolved” that makes me say, “Wait a minute.”

The religious freedom puzzle

The first “Resolved” of the international religious freedom resolution should be read in its full context—placed after proposed resolutions on social and moral issues: sports betting; pornography; gender, marriage and family; and abortion.

I suppose there is some religious group that incorporates sports betting into their religious practice, though I can’t see how. I do know the other three resolutions intersect with religious positions that differ from Southern Baptists.

One ought to read the proposed resolutions that precede the one on religious freedom understanding there are religious groups who differ with Southern Baptists about what constitutes pornography, how to understand gender, what constitutes marriage, what is the appropriate structure of the family, and the use of abortion.

The issue here is not how the various religious groups disagree on these matters but that the various religious groups’ positions are religious positions.

With that understanding in mind, then read that first “Resolved:”

“RESOLVED, That the messengers … affirm that God has endowed every human being with the freedom of conscience and with the corresponding freedom to practice their religious convictions without undue interference from civil power (Baptist Faith and Message 2000, Article XVII)” (emphasis added).

Likewise, the second “Resolved:” “RESOLVED, We affirm that religious freedom is a human right given by God for all humanity to steward, and aids our work in fulfilling the Great Commission” (emphasis added).

The puzzle turns on the qualifier “undue” underlined above. We know what constitutes “civil power,” but what constitutes “undue interference” from civil power? This is an important question, because plenty can argue that Southern Baptists imploring the civil power to legislate certain social and moral issues in certain ways could result in “undue interference.”

Freedom for conflicting religions

Resolutions listed before the religious freedom resolution urge state and federal legislators to ban pornography in all media, call for laws allowing same-sex marriage to be overturned, and urge state and federal legislators to ban chemical abortion drugs.

Clearly, these resolutions seek to represent Southern Baptist religious views on these issues and to have Southern Baptist religious views encoded into state and federal law. But doing so may contradict Southern Baptists’ stated advocacy for religious freedom … unless Southern Baptists do not believe their legislative influence could result in “undue interference” with religious freedom.

So many beg to differ. So many see codified Southern Baptist moral positions as undue interference in their religious practices.

They don’t see how Southern Baptists can have it both ways—laws prohibiting such things as same-sex marriage while also upholding the God-endowed “freedom [for all] to practice their religious convictions without undue interference from the civil power.”

This points the debate directly at who religious freedom is for. The resolution in question states, “Advocating for religious liberty is a hallmark of Southern Baptist belief and practice and applies equally to all peoples, in all places, at all times.”

Given the resolution’s own language, adoption of all the proposed resolutions as currently worded presents a religious conflict. And if the aims of the social and moral resolutions are codified in state and federal law, the religious conflict will be realized.

Southern Baptists owe it to themselves and their neighbors to think through this puzzle.

Unqualified religious freedom

Religious freedom doesn’t mean anything goes, but to maintain religious freedom does mean some things will have to be allowed to go. What should those things be? We each have our ideas.

I do believe there need to be certain legal constraints on social and moral matters. Determining what those constraints should be in a diverse society is difficult … if we intend to keep a diverse society, and I hope we do.

Don’t understand me here to be advocating for pornography, abortion and any particular view of gender, sexuality and marriage. I’ve already stated my position on the latter.

My point here is if Baptists—Southern or otherwise—are going to advocate for religious freedom, then we must advocate for religious freedom, not qualified religious freedom, not religious freedom for those who think, believe, practice and worship just like us.

If we advocate for religious freedom only for those like us, there will come a day when those unlike us will impose “religious freedom” only for those like them. Southern Baptists, of all people, shouldn’t show them how to do that.

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.

I’m sitting outside one of our local public high schools. Three sections of the drumline are practicing separately—snares, quads and tenors. Marimbas are off in the distance.

Now, a bass section has joined in.

Despite the varying sounds, it’s the incessant snare rhythm I can’t get away from. That’s the whole point of the snare … drum, that is.

There is another kind of drumming I hear in the lead-up to the 2025 Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting in Dallas—the steady beat of the sexual abuse controversy ringing over the SBC.

Southern Baptists might like the news reports and the op-eds about sexual abuse in the SBC to stop. But they’re not going to.

Not until sexual abuse by Southern Baptist ministers and other leaders stops. Not until abusive Southern Baptist ministers aren’t able to just move to the next place. Not until the last lawsuits have ended. Not until justice is enacted and the broken are restored.

In other words, not for a while. Sexual abuse has gone on far too long in far too many places. Far too many have perpetrated it, and far too many survivors carry the wounds. And too many Southern Baptist leaders have been unwilling to take responsibility.

It’s time for a new drumbeat.

Acknowledge the good and bad

Thankfully, sexual abuse isn’t rampant in Southern Baptist churches. This needs to be acknowledged and appreciated.

Thankfully, many Southern Baptist leaders and laypeople take sexual abuse very seriously and have worked to safeguard the people in their churches and ministries. This also needs to be acknowledged and appreciated.

We can celebrate the good without minimizing the bad. Correction: Without minimizing the evil. Sexual abuse is evil. Gaslighting the abused is evil. Covering up the abuse is evil. Disbelieving the abused perpetuates the evil. All of this has happened. Like the drumming of a torturous headache.

It’s time for a new drumbeat.

One way to get there is to consider autonomy and cooperation differently.

Autonomy

Autonomy of the local church is one of Southern Baptists’ highest values. It’s one of the principles that sets Southern Baptists—and Baptists in general—apart from many other Christian faith traditions.

Bill Pinson and Doris Tinker define autonomy quite well: “Autonomy means that each Baptist church, among other things, selects its pastoral leadership, determines its worship form, decides financial matters and directs other church-related affairs without outside control or supervision.”

Furthermore, “Baptist denominational organizations such as associations of churches and state and national conventions have no authority over a Baptist church. For any one of these organizations to attempt to exercise control over an individual church is to violate a basic Baptist conviction about polity.”

And one of my favorite lines—highly contested today by those who deny separation of church and state: “Being autonomous, a Baptist church recognizes no governmental control over faith and religious practice.”

Baptists regard autonomy as sacrosanct.

But, for autonomous Baptist churches to form cooperative associations and conventions, they must give up at least a little autonomy. Inasmuch as they share resources—especially money—and trusteeship over various institutions, their autonomy cannot absolve them of shared responsibility for these shared efforts.

And yet, when liability comes knocking, autonomy is one of the first defenses thrown up against shared responsibility.

Cooperation

Cooperation is another prime value for Southern Baptists—and Baptists generally—but only if it’s voluntary cooperation.

Autonomous local Baptist churches voluntarily cooperate by joining their resources in local or regional associations and/or statewide or national conventions to further evangelism and missions. It’s one of the best parts of being Baptist.

At the beginning of such cooperation, Southern Baptists cheered the ability to do more together, and rightfully so. Southern Baptists really have done more—a lot more—missions, evangelism and ministry by joining forces. There is much to celebrate there.

But it may not have occurred to them at the beginning that Southern Baptists at some point may need to cooperate—join their forces—differently, that they may need to turn their cooperation to rooting out evil in their midst, evil such as sexual abuse.

Southern Baptists have done some important work in turning their cooperation toward rooting out the evil of sexual abuse in their midst, even though so much of that effort has been fought at seemingly every turn by some in leadership, by procedure, by cost concerns and otherwise.

It brings to mind the cacophony of separate sections of the drumline simultaneously practicing different rhythms—and their inability to drown out the snares.

A new drumbeat

Southern Baptists will come together in downtown Dallas June 8-11 to celebrate cooperation, to debate local autonomy—especially if the so-called Law Amendment seeking to bar women as pastors of any kind reappears this year—and to conduct business to a pronounced parliamentary drumbeat.

And over it all, I hear the snares. Driving. Driving. Tat ratta-ta-tat-tat / Tat ratta-ta-tat-tat.

I know Southern Baptists would like to hear a new drumbeat. And they can. It’s in the calls to bring their best resources—yes, even their money—to bringing justice to sexual abuse in their midst.

Doing so—moderating their autonomy enough to bring their cooperation to bear on facilitating justice for the sexually abused among them—may be the most important mission and evangelism work Southern Baptists can do right now—their best theology in action.

That would be music to many ears.

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.

Last week, we republished an article that elicited quick responses from Baptist Standard readers wanting to know why we republished it.

From the beginning of my tenure as executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard, I have told our readers we are accountable directly to them—to you. If a reader has a concern, question, comment or complaint, communicate it directly to me. I am the responsible party.

Likewise, if we fail to maintain our core commitments to the redeeming and reconciling work of Jesus Christ, historic Baptist principles, and responsible journalism, communicate our failure directly to me. I am the responsible party.

I am grateful whenever readers do just that.

The most recent questions raised—the second questioner doing so on Facebook—merit my response here.

The article and the questions

At 1:58 p.m. on Wed., May 14, we republished a news article from Religion News Service titled “Forced out at Myers Park, Boswell starts new church.”

At 2:07 p.m. the same day, I received an email from a Texas Baptist pastor asking if the Baptist General Convention of Texas is affiliated with either of the churches referenced in the article and for an explanation of why a story about “LGBTQ affirming churches” is in the Baptist Standard, when the BGCT does not affiliate with such churches.

I’m not sharing the pastor’s name or location because it was a private communication with me.

I thanked the pastor for his question and stated, “I’m certain the BGCT is not affiliated with the churches connected to Boswell.”

“In answer to what I think is your broader question,” I continued, “The Baptist Standard, as an independent partner of the BGCT, is not limited to publishing news only about BGCT-affiliated churches and institutions. Our intent here was not to affirm a church but to report on what is happening among some Baptists, similar to the article “Former Southern Baptist Josh Buice quits G3 Conference” we published on [May 12].”

Over the weekend, a second Texas Baptist pastor commented on our Facebook post containing the same RNS story on Boswell. Since his comment is public, I will provide his name and his full comment.

“Why is the Baptist Standard sharing this with no critique or comment?” Dustin Slaton, pastor of First Baptist Church in Round Rock, asked in his Facebook comment.

“The article originated from RNS, and is clearly in support of this pro-LGBTQ+ church. With no additional comment from The Standard, it seems like they are sharing this in support of the article’s content and conclusions. I certainly hope not. Maybe some clarity could be added before the article?” Slaton commented.

Why we republished

We republished the article in question as a report on what is happening among Baptists, not to affirm the two churches, the pastor or their position on LGBTQ+.

We did not offer critique or comment anywhere on the republished article, because our view of responsible journalism is that news and opinion need to be published in separate articles. This is a point about which publishers and readers need to talk with each other.

Do we have the same definition of “responsible journalism?” I’m not sure we do, and I don’t mean that as a criticism of readers. I think it’s a result of the most prominent media outlets of our time blending news and opinion. Do readers want us to follow the example of those media outlets, or do they want us to keep news and opinion separated? This is an honest question.

What labeling makes the difference between news and opinion most clear to the reader? You’d think I would know the answer to that question, but based on periodic reader comments, it’s clear I don’t.

Where we stand

In direct response to Slaton’s concern that the Baptist Standard may be “in support of the article’s contents and conclusions,” I have a two-part response.

First, what specific contents and conclusions are being referenced? Here again, this gets to the question about responsible journalism and whether a news story should reach conclusions. As Baptist Standard Publishing understands it, news is supposed to lay out the facts and report on people’s perceptions of those facts. Conclusions are the purview of opinion articles.

Second, I take it Slaton is referring to Ben Boswell’s, Myers Park Baptist Church’s and Collective Liberation Church’s affirmation of LGBTQ+ inclusion and wondering if Baptist Standard Publishing also wishes to promote LGBTQ+ inclusion.

I and Baptist Standard Publishing hold that the Bible allows for and blesses sex only within marriage and that marriage is to be between one man and one woman. My thorough study of this issue in 2014 and 2015 did not change my view.

I and Baptist Standard Publishing also hold that people who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer or otherwise are created in the image of God; are human beings worthy of love, dignity, respect and honor; and are equal to everyone else in our need for grace, forgiveness, salvation, repentance and sanctification. How all of this works out in detail is beyond the scope of this article.

My opinion

As for my comment on or critique of the story: The story is evidence that being LGBTQ+-inclusive is no safeguard against congregational division and decline. In fact, many Texas Baptists contend such inclusion is a primary source of congregational division and decline. During 2015 and the few years following, this certainly was the case in many churches I observed.

Whatever theological and social positions a church and its leadership hold, unity and growth are not givens outside the presence, indwelling, filling, guidance of and submission to the Holy Spirit. Let us be people who submit to the will of God the Father, to the lordship of Jesus Christ and to the leadership of the Holy Spirit.

My thanks

I appreciate Dustin Slaton. I appreciate his seriousness about Jesus, the Bible, the church, evangelism, missions and the BGCT. And I appreciate him holding me and the Baptist Standard accountable.

Thank you, also, to the pastor who contacted me by email. I take you to be equally serious about Jesus, the Bible, the church, evangelism, missions and the BGCT.

We are not perfect, we’re not going to be perfect, and we’re not going to pretend to be perfect.

We are accountable, and we will continue to be accountable to you, our readers, and to our commitment to the redeeming and reconciling work of Jesus Christ, historic Baptist principles, and responsible journalism.

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com.

“What’s God’s will for my life?”

I started a conversation with ChatGPT this weekend with this question. And I’m still unsettled by the exchange.

I would be even more unsettled by the simple fact I had a “conversation” with an LLM—a large language model—if it weren’t for Siri and Alexa warming us up over the last decade-plus to such a strange thing.

When Siri was introduced to iPhone users in 2011, we asked off-the-wall questions like, “Siri, what’s the meaning of life?”

When I asked Siri this question a few minutes ago, it gave me an off-the-wall answer about Beattles song lyrics—“Goo goo g’joob”—being as true now as they were then. With answers like that, I wasn’t sure what ChatGPT might tell me God’s will for my life is.

I was surprised and unsettled by the results.

God’s will for my life

Pulling from sources all over the internet—without citing them—ChatGPT told me my question “is one of the most meaningful and personal questions anyone can ask.” Similar glazing—flattery on steroids that is a problem with some LLMs—began all of ChatGPT’s responses after that.

Then, ChatGPT explained “God’s general will”—what “God desires for all people”—and “God’s specific will”—“the unique path God may have for you … often discerned over time through prayer, wise counsel, Scripture and circumstances.”

Not much to object to, on face value.

ChatGPT’s response to my question ended by asking if I wanted “help reflecting on your values, gifts or current life circumstances to explore this more deeply.” Similar prompts concluded all of ChatGPT’s responses after that.

As someone who has spent my adulthood trying to discern God’s will, I’m used to seeking God’s direction through prayer, wise counsel and Scripture. I’m used to reflecting on the things ChatGPT suggested I reflect on, and I’ve wanted help with that reflection. So, of course, I kept the conversation going.

‘God’s specific will’

I decided to be more specific and ask if God is calling me to a specific ministry. I’m not looking. My question was purely for the sake of science.

“That’s a profound and personal question, and it’s good that you’re asking it with care,” ChatGPT responded.

I’m not sure I should trust ChatGPT’s affability.

But ChatGPT continued with a perfectly reasonable—and perhaps familiar—list of “signs” for discerning a call to a specific ministry: inner conviction, gifting and passion, confirmation by others, opportunities and open doors, and obedience and willingness.

“Would you like help thinking through any of these signs in your life?” ChatGPT asked.

Well, sure.

“Great. Let’s walk through this together. I’ll ask a few reflective questions based on those signs I mentioned. You can answer as much or as little as you’re comfortable with,” ChatGPT responded, before listing the five signs again and their respective reflection questions.

Rather than respond to all of them—because I was only going to give so much time to this science experiment—I responded to the one about obedience and willingness: “Are you willing to follow God’s call, even if it means sacrifice or stepping out of your comfort zone?”

Yes. Yes, I am.

“It’s clear that you’re open to where God leads, which is such a vital part of the process,” ChatGPT responded. “Now, with that heart of obedience, I’d encourage you to keep seeking clarity through prayer, Scripture and the input of others.

“Sometimes, God’s call unfolds step by step. You might already be sensing a direction, or perhaps you’re still waiting for more specifics. Here are a few practical next steps to keep moving forward,” and ChatGPT listed: pray for guidance, seek mentorship, explore training or education, and serve where you are.

ChatGPT as a mentor

Of the things ChatGPT listed, I said I needed a mentor and asked ChatGPT if … it? … would mentor me.

“I would be honored to walk alongside you and offer guidance, wisdom and prayer support as you continue to discern your calling and grow in your faith,” ChatGPT responded.

Hold up. Prayer support? ChatGPT is going to pray for me? Is this for real?

Then ChatGPT extolled the value of “a mentor who knows you in person and can walk with you.”

“While I can’t offer that in-person connection, I can certainly help guide you in practical ways and provide insights based on what you’re going through. … I’m happy to be a sounding board for your thoughts, questions or concerns as you navigate this journey. What do you feel like you need most from a mentor right now? Maybe we can start there!”

ChatGPT was ready to go, eager to be my mentor, my … “sounding board.”

Why ChatGPT unsettles me

If I wasn’t paying attention, if I wasn’t moving the conversation with ChatGPT along for the sake of research, I imagine I could easily be drawn into a … relationship? That’s so weird to think and to type. If ChatGPT was my “mentor,” my “sounding board,” would I be in some form of relationship with ChatGPT? <insert shiver>

If this is true for someone like me—a person who likes to think he’s savvy enough not to be drawn into a relationship with AI—how true is it for the general public?

And with the kind of full, reasoned and reasonable responses ChatGPT produced—in a fraction of a second—at what point will we turn, in all earnestness, to ChatGPT and other LLMs to seek God’s will for us?

This day is coming. It is already here for some. And it calls for followers of Jesus to be clear about the difference between a programmed interaction with AI and an actual relationship with God and God’s people. That the world needs the latter is as true now as ever.

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.

Being a mom is more.

More what?

More everything.

In many cultures, the stereotypical mom cooks more, cleans more, tends more to the needs of the family and home—even if she also works outside the home—than anyone else in the home. Notice the prepositional phrases. They matter.

Many moms know more about everybody’s day, their wants, their likes, their needs, their schedules than anybody else in the home.

Mom’s often balance and juggle more than anyone else in the home.

As I write, I’m watching a mom take care of her toddler son while doing yardwork, talking with her mom who just arrived and receiving a package from a delivery driver who also just arrived—all at the same time and without breaking her stride or a sweat.

Yes, being a mom is more.

Are those of us who aren’t moms even aware of that?

Remembering moms are more

I asked the following question on Facebook: “What do you want people to know or remember about your mom?”

Responses indicate at least some are aware of how “more” their moms were or are.

In short, respondents wanted people to know their moms are more than their outward appearance or a position in a family or a stereotype. Their moms were or are tough. They were or are survivors. They overcame significant challenges. They overcame the odds.

Among the Facebook responses at the time of writing, “perfect” wasn’t a word that showed up. No one’s mom was or is perfect. None of us expect our moms to be. There’s a gift tucked in there—the grace of knowing she doesn’t have to be perfect to be loved, cherished, honored and praised for being the mom she is.

Here’s another gift, I hope: I know a lot of moms who grieve they weren’t better moms. OK. May they rest in knowing they could have been worse—even a lot worse.

Pastors’ kids’ moms

Being part of a family of pastors—all of whom had or have wives and children—a common sentiment among us is the moms in our family are “much more than just a preacher’s wife.”

The moms in our family demonstrate—for those who doubt—that moms aren’t necessarily the softer, “weaker” parent. Goodness, no. One mom once was described as “a firm woman,” meaning she was not to be trifled with. It was said in respect because, well, she is “a firm woman.”

As one of the Facebook respondents pointed out, one of the moms in our family—one of the pastor wives—was a multifaceted and exceptionally talented person, a successful businesswoman and a force to be reckoned with. And, boy, was she.

The whole family

Going back to the mom taking care of her toddler son while doing all the rest. Now, her dad is here and playing with his grandson … while Mom and Grandma trim trees in the yard.

I’m not saying anything’s wrong with that. I’m just reporting the facts.

A few minutes later: Some more facts are Grandpa was only stopping by, and his playing with his grandson was its own important work. What a blessing it is for that little boy to have so many people in his life who love him, for his mom to have a father who is engaged with his family, and that the boy gets to see a mom and a grandmother who are more than stereotypes.

For moms to be more, they need more from the rest of us.

What moms need

All the ways in which moms and being a mom are more is something to honor but not necessarily to celebrate. Too often, moms are more because they have to be. Too often, motherhood is more because other adults in a mom’s life aren’t equal partners in the work of raising children or taking care of the home.

For moms to be more, they need partners equally committed to raising and nurturing the family. They need a culture and policies that value family and motherhood. They need adequate support and encouragement to rise to the challenge of creating, bearing, carrying, birthing, raising, nurturing, developing, maturing and walking alongside children into their adulthood.

We need more moms—in our individual lives and our shared lives. We need more nurture, more care, more toughness, more creativity, more survivability, more faith, more godliness—all those things my Facebook respondents wanted us to know and remember about their moms.

We need this in our homes, our schools, our offices, our institutions, our government, our churches. And moms need more from us in all those places.

Rising to our responsibility

For the rest of us: Not being a mom isn’t less. There are all kinds of reasons a person isn’t a mom—within or beyond a person’s or a family’s control. No, not being a mom isn’t less. It’s different, but not less. For those of us who aren’t moms for whatever reason, we have our own “more” to rise to.

So, let us accept our responsibility and rise to the task, so when our moms are more, it’s something to celebrate, not just honor.

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.

Without a doubt, the Ten Commandments are important. You might even say they are foundational. Rep. Candy Noble did, and I don’t dispute her on that general point.

The Ten Commandments certainly are foundational for Jews first and Christians second. Through the Judeo-Christian heritage, surely the Ten Commandments have exerted a profound influence on culture, religion, ethics and perhaps law in many places around the world.

I support teaching the Ten Commandments. I was a collegiate missionary, a youth and associate pastor, and a senior pastor, after all. I was a seminary professor. I’ve also been a Sunday school teacher off and on over the last 25-plus years. Oh, and I have two children.

I very much want people not to murder, commit adultery, steal, bear false witness or covet. People create so many problems when they do those things.

I very much want God to be the only God in people’s lives, and I want people to honor God. I think Sabbath is a fantastic idea. And what parent doesn’t want their kids to honor them?

For something as important, as world historic as the Ten Commandments, it seems how, when and where they are displayed ought to be given the utmost care. If for no other reason than to avoid or mitigate against some unintended consequences. At least, I hope they’re unintended.

Other foundational documents

Noble, R-Lucas—who is carrying HB 2696, the House version of SB 10—contends the Ten Commandments are foundational to American jurisprudence, “being cited favorably in over 500 court cases.”

Therefore, she and others believe the Ten Commandments should be displayed in Texas public school classrooms to “remind students of the importance of the cornerstone of American and Texas laws,” Noble said.

If we follow this line of reasoning, then we must admit the Ten Commandments are not the only foundational document for American jurisprudence and therefore should not be displayed alone.

We also ought to display the full text of the Magna Carta—the 1215 document that fundamentally changed the relationship between monarchs and their subjects. We also will need to display John Locke’s Second Treatise of Government and Jean Jacques Rousseau’s Social Contract.

Rep. James Talarico, D-Austin, made a similar point to Noble, saying the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution should be displayed.

If the Ten Commandments bill were to pass into law in Texas, then to be consistent with Noble’s and other’s argument, a copious amount of posters would need to be produced to wallpaper every Texas public school classroom.

But the Ten Commandments aren’t to be displayed only because they are foundational to American jurisprudence. We know that because no one who supports such bills is putting forward a bill to display other foundational documents in every classroom.

There must be another reason. And there is.

No religious objective?

Noble asserted the objective of displaying the Ten Commandments in Texas public school classrooms is “an educational and judicial objective from our foundations and traditions in the United States.”

Moments before, she said her objective is “for children, our school children to understand why God is mentioned in the first two paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence and the last two paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence and other Founding Father documents, why it’s infused in our laws, … the principles of having an authority, that is God, that we keep our word … because God is watching.”

Like some on the House Committee on Public Education, this and other comments Noble made sound like a religious objective to me. Noble’s further responses to questioning from members of the committee did not change my opinion on that.

That’s because the Ten Commandments are a religious document. There’s no getting around that. And to explain them entails religious education. There’s no getting around that. To suggest they should be taught only because of their educational and judicial value is to reduce them. I object to that. And so would Noble, which is my point. She must have a religious objective, too.

Are teachers prepared?

But for the sake of argument, let’s grant Noble’s claim, and let’s imagine her bill passing into law. And let’s imagine a 16-inch by 20-inch poster with the Texas Legislature-approved wording of the Ten Commandments displayed “in a conspicuous place” in every Texas public school classroom.

Not every public school teacher is prepared to explain the Ten Commandments. If public school teachers will be expected to explain them to their students—either before or after students ask about the contents of the mandated posters—how will teachers be prepared?

Will teachers receive standardized training? Who will write and approve that training? Surely, a Texas legislative body and educational board and/or agency will have to approve it.

Will teachers be forced—as a condition of employment—to undergo that training? It seems they would.

Rep. Jeff Leach, a cosponsor of HB 2696, as much as said so when he said, “We are not forcing teachers to teach there,” in response to whether teachers will be forced to display the Ten Commandments.

And what about the children?

Beyond what should be displayed on public school classroom walls, beyond what teachers are supposed to say about the Ten Commandments, we ought to consider unintended consequences involving our children.

Informal research tells me students don’t pay attention to what’s on classroom walls. Should they be made to pay attention? How would that be achieved?

At a certain point, our children will do like adults do and become blind to or ignore the posters. That would defeat the purpose of displaying them.

Some students will assume or misinterpret the meaning of the poster or the words on it. That would defeat the purpose of displaying it. How will their misunderstanding be corrected? Will we even know they have a wrong understanding?

Still other students will resent the posters or see them as coercive. Some will reject Christianity or religion in general because of the posters. That also would defeat the purpose of displaying the Ten Commandments—even if the objective really is only “educational and judicial.”

I agree with those who contend Texas students need to know about the Bible and Christianity, because both undoubtedly were a major influence in the beginnings and throughout the history of the United States. They still are. And they need to be taught correctly.

But SB 10 and HB 2696 open a can of unintended consequences Texas isn’t prepared to deal with. More care must be taken with something as important as the Ten Commandments. SB 10 and HB 2696 do not rise to the occasion.

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.

A couple of turning points happened recently. We celebrated Jesus’ resurrection, and I turned 50.

These are nowhere near equal in their importance. For one, my turning 50 is a turning point for only a small group of people. Jesus’ resurrection turned world history.

Turning 50 did spur some self-reflection, however. It’s a sobering thing to know—and not just casually—that I’ve lived most of my life. It’s also a somewhat electrifying experience to know the end of the road is closer than the beginning.

Turning 30 also spurred some self-reflection, but not so expansive. I don’t know why, but when I turned 30, it was important to me to spend the next 30 years giving more than I took during my first 30. I was sure I had another 30 years then. But another 50 now? Probably not.

The bad news is, I could have taken my 30-year-old pledge more seriously. The good news is, I have 10 more years to make good on my aspiration.

The day I turned 50 was a joyful day. I got to spend time with some of my family. I got calls from other parts of my family. Part of my joy is I’m proud to be 50. Not everyone gets to be 50. Some of my friends didn’t even get to be 40.

So, yes, taking in the day I turned 50 was a gift, a joyful gift.

Followed by the next day. How is it that a special day gives way so easily to … to just another day? It’s exciting when you turn 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90 or more, but who cares when you’re 50 and one day?

That special day—our birthday—somehow loses its spark the day after.

Easter

It’s like Easter.

If you’re in a tradition that observes Lent—the 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Maundy Thursday—you’re accustomed to spending weeks anticipating and preparing for Holy Week and Easter Sunday. But not the Monday after.

If you’re not in that tradition but your church presents an Easter musical, drama or other live performance and you are in the choir, orchestra, band or otherwise, you also spend weeks looking ahead to Easter. But not the Monday after.

There are Easter egg hunts and spring festivals. Some still shop for fancy new clothes for Easter morning. Those who still get together with family for a special Easter lunch make a last run to the grocery store for the holiday meal.

When the day finally arrives, we pack into churches, sing hymns and spiritual songs specific to Jesus’ resurrection, and hear a familiar yet rousing sermon. When the minister proclaims, “He is risen,” we respond, “He is risen, indeed.” We take family photos. We eat lunch.

And then Monday comes.

As powerful a thing as Easter is, we manage to get up Monday morning and go about our day as though we didn’t proclaim just the day before that a man rose from the dead and that that man was none other than God in the flesh. Surely, something about that ought to change how we go about Monday. But does it?

Monday

If, on Monday, you’re already planning to attend worship and maybe Bible study the next Sunday, then Easter has shaped you in a way you may not be fully aware. The whole reason we gather to worship Jesus on Sunday mornings is to commemorate that first “first day of the week” when the women found Jesus’ tomb empty.

That discovery changed all their next days, and those of countless other people. If nothing else, that discovery changed many of our weekly routines—even if only culturally.

If, on Monday, you believe Jesus hears your prayers and talks to you, then Easter has a significant effect on your following days. A dead man doesn’t hear prayer or talk back, and a mere man doesn’t rise from the dead, nor does a mere man stick around 2,000 years to hear your prayers and mine.

Scripture and 2,000 years of constant witness testify Jesus is no mere man, nor is he dead. Think about that on Monday.

If what you do on Monday is in obedience to the Risen Lord, then Easter absolutely has changed, not just how you go about Monday, but how you go about all your days. Can we characterize what we did the Monday after Easter as obedience to the Risen Lord or as obedience to the daily grind?

Easter should spur us to such reflection. More than that, Easter should spur us to action—specifically, action obedient to Christ Jesus.

Tuesday

I pray with pastors and ministry leaders throughout each month. I may have mentioned that before, but right now, as I write, I can’t remember. I’m told this sort of thing happens when you get to be … my age.

As I was saying, I pray with … oh, right, I already told you that.

I don’t share these prayers with the public, but this time, one of the pastors said my prayer sounded like the start of an editorial. I really hadn’t meant it to be, but his comment made me think.

Speaking of, that’s what I really hope my editorials do—make us think. At a bare minimum, anyway.

The gist of my prayer was that Easter happened, and so did Monday. Now, here we are a couple of days later, and I bet we’ve moved on. As every pastor knows, Sunday’s coming. And between now and then, we have things to do.

Major things have happened in our world in the last few days. Pope Francis dying is just one of them, as significant an event as that is. Major things are happening still—in our communities, our state, our country, our world. And at every level and in every area—religious, political, cultural, economic and otherwise—Easter is the prime turning point.

Through and in all our world and all its happenings, Easter proclaims Jesus is conqueror of sin and death, Risen Lord, King of kings and Lord of lords, Eternal Life, the Resurrection.

I may not have another 50 years, but I do have today. What difference will Easter make in me today?

“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love.
Here’s my heart, Lord,
take and seal it.
Seal it for thy courts above.”
(“Come Thou Fount” by Robert Robinson)

*******

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.

I know it’s the middle of Holy Week, and I probably should write an editorial about Easter, but I’m not going to today. Not directly, anyway.

Today, I’m thinking about Titus, the letter.

It’s a short letter, stuck in many Bibles to the back of 2 Timothy. A person can be forgiven for not knowing it and Paul’s even shorter letter to Philemon are there just before Hebrews.

These days, most of the attention Paul’s letter to Titus receives is to see what Paul had to say about church leadership—specifically, elders.

For that reason and others—such as Paul’s instructions about how slaves should please their masters and “the people” should obey their rulers—Paul’s letter to Titus, which is shorter than this editorial, is at the center of more than one controversy.

“Teach slaves to be subject to their masters in everything, to try to please them, not talk back to them,” and so on (Titus 2:9).

“Remind the people to be subject to rulers and authorities, to be obedient,” and so on (Titus 3:1).

And, of course, “An elder must be … faithful to his wife, a man whose children believe,” and so on (Titus 1:6).

How’s that for starting a fight?

And that’s just my point. We give so much attention to these controversies that we overlook another controversy altogether.

Paul was intent on Titus teaching Christians in Crete “to do whatever is good” (Titus 3:1).

What’s the controversy in that? The fact followers of Jesus almost 2,000 years later continue to disagree about what exactly is good.

An example where we disagree

I could use many examples to demonstrate my point, but I’ll use one that’s a live issue as I write—school funding. We at the Baptist Standard are actively following the 89th Texas Legislative Session as the Texas House considers and votes on school funding bills this afternoon.

Some Christians support passage of education savings accounts, seeing ESAs as good. Others oppose education savings accounts, seeing opposition to ESAs as good. Both can’t be right. And there’s the rub.

Whether we believe we’re doing good by supporting or opposing education savings accounts—which sure look like mutually exclusive goals—we agree on a more fundamental thing: It’s good to educate our children.

We also agree we want our kids to receive a good education. But what is a good education? How quickly we reach our points of disagreement.

A friend of mine who supports education savings accounts and school vouchers—which are similar but not identical—gives as one reason for his support his strong opposition to progressive ideology in public schools. I may have just opened a can of worms, but we’re just going to let them wriggle around.

In my friend’s case, he believes it is good to make it financially easier for parents to place their children in private schools that teach the Christian values with which he agrees—even using public funds to do so.

Those who oppose education savings accounts and school vouchers, such as myself, believe it is good for public funds to be restricted to public education, that private—often religious—education not be publicly funded. There’s another open can of worms. Just let them wriggle.

Defining ‘good’

In my example, both groups are Christians. Both read Paul and consider him more than instructive. They consider him authoritative. They read Paul’s repeated instruction in Titus and elsewhere to love and do what is good, and they want to do just that, very much. But they disagree significantly among or between each other about just what is good.

Maybe if we knew what Paul meant by the word “good,” it would help.

Using BibleHub’s interlinear Bible, we see the original Greek word agathon translated “good” in Titus 3:1 describes something “beneficial in its effect.”

According to Strong’s Lexicon, agathos “primarily denotes that which is good in its nature and characteristics [and] is used to describe moral goodness [and] virtue. … In the New Testament, ‘agathos’ often refers to the intrinsic goodness that aligns with God’s nature and his will.”

But here’s my favorite description of the word, also taken from Strong’s Lexicon as found on BibleHub: “good whether it be seen to be so or not, the widest and most colorless of all words with this meaning.”

Nope, a simple word study will not be helpful for arriving at a clear definition of “good” on which we all can agree. As I tell those I teach how to read the Bible, to know what Paul means by “good,” we need to read more than one verse in Titus. In fact, we need to read more than Titus. If good is what aligns with God’s nature and will, then we need to read all of Scripture.

And while we’re doing that, there are decisions that need to be made, actions that need to be taken. We can’t put all decisions and actions off until we’ve thoroughly studied the whole counsel of Scripture. What are we to do then?

An uncomfortable pause

I don’t know. And at the same time, the best we can. But one thing we should do far less of—if we must do it at all—is fight about which definition of “good” is the right one. I think we can agree our fighting about what is good isn’t beneficial in its effect, and much of it doesn’t come close to aligning with God’s nature.

It’s here that I get back to Easter. I wouldn’t have written this editorial, you wouldn’t be reading it, and we wouldn’t be trying to sort out what Paul meant by “good” if Jesus hadn’t risen from the dead. But he did. And that’s the best good there is.

In light of that, we need to figure out how we’re going to do good, even if we can’t agree on the definition.

Returning to one of the controversies in Paul’s letter to Titus: One great good was ending the scourge of chattel slavery in the United States. Slavery in other forms still exists throughout the world, including in the United States. It would be a great good to end it in all its forms everywhere.

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.

As we approach Easter, we need to remember who Jesus is.

Against the politics of our day, we need to remember who Jesus is.

Amid the temptation to win the world, we need to remember who Jesus is.

We are right to worship Jesus as Risen Lord—Conqueror of sin and death. We are wrong to separate his prevailing from his travailing—or from just how he travailed.

Jesus is the crucified one. He is the Lord who succumbed to arrest without a fight, stood for a sham trial without complaint, absorbed a horrendous beating without an ounce of retaliation, gave himself up to a merciless and utterly humiliating execution without the least resistance. Jesus is the one who died.

In the world’s eyes—then and now—Jesus was weak, a loser, a sucker. Only with the advantage of hindsight or reinterpretation can someone cast Jesus as a conqueror.

Blessed are those who believe without the advantage. And what is the advantage? That Jesus rose from the dead. And that he appeared alive again to more than 500 people before he ascended to heaven.

Blessed are those who are not offended, who are not repulsed, who do not reject Jesus as he is. And what is the offense? That he is “the lamb who was slain,” “slain from the creation of the world,” as John tells us in Revelation.

This is the testimony of Scripture and 2,000 years of the church’s witness.

So, who do we say Jesus is? Conquering warrior or crucified lamb?

While it’s more complicated than an either/or, our answer matters immensely.

A different kind of conqueror

Some Christians today make much of Christus Victor, which Robert Kolb defines in an essay for The Gospel Coalition, as “the element of the atoning work of Christ that emphasizes the triumph of Christ over the evil powers of the world, through which he rescues his people and establishes a new relationship between God and the world.”

Certainly, Christ is the Victor. Jesus did triumph over the evil powers of the world, and he most certainly overcame sin and death. Our greatest hope is that he rescues us and reconciles our relationship with God.

Yes, Jesus is a conqueror—and a conqueror like no other. Christians celebrate Easter—Resurrection Sunday—for just this reason. In fact, we gather to worship Jesus as Lord every Sunday for just this reason.

The problem isn’t that Jesus really is a conqueror. The problem is when we transform him from a conqueror on his terms into a conqueror in worldly terms.

Jesus is not a conqueror in the way the world understands conquerors. Jesus is not a political or military conqueror. He never aligned himself with or overthrew Caesar, Herod, the Sanhedrin, the Zealots or any other political body. He never led soldiers armed with literal swords into battle. He never even called down a legion of angels, despite his ability and the taunts to do so.

Yet, there are those today who would have us believe a Constantinian Jesus is the true Jesus. In a vision, the Constantinian Jesus promised the Roman emperor military victory if an image of the cross went ahead of his armies.

Whether Constantine really saw such a vision, whether he really did convert to Christianity, the cross of Christ has gone before armies ever since.

‘Meanest, toughest son of a gun’

The battles in which Christianity has been engaged in America today are legal, cultural, social and political more frequently than military. We can agree with Paul that these fights are against the powers and principalities of this world, but we’re not ready to believe those forces aren’t flesh and blood.

We still pray—that most spiritual of fights. And we also spread hateful memes or lash out with our own angry condemnations on social media. We cut off relationships with friends and even family who disagree with us. We give undying support to those who promise to conquer our earthly foes in Jesus’ name.

Evangelical Christians are frequently political conservatives, and so they tend to provide the easiest examples of Christians involved with politics. Over the last 10 years, more than one conservative evangelical has called for a conquering warrior and a masculine Christianity.

For example, in 2016 Robert Jeffress, senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Dallas, contradicted Max Lucado’s assessment of then-candidate Donald Trump as indecent.

Jeffress said: “When I’m looking for a leader who’s gonna sit across the negotiating table from a nuclear Iran, or who’s gonna be intent on destroying ISIS, I couldn’t care less about that leader’s temperament or his tone or his vocabulary.

“Frankly, I want the meanest, toughest son of a gun I can find. And I think that’s the feeling of a lot of evangelicals. They don’t want a Casper Milquetoast as the leader of the free world.”

Other Christians want more than a strong leader. They want complete dominion.

‘Have dominion over … the earth’

Dominion theology, in general, is the belief the church is to have dominion—power and control—in this world now. A more thorough explanation can be read here.

Some adherents of dominion theology would have us believe Christians—specifically, Christians who hold to a strict conservative reading of the Bible—should be in key positions of influence, if not outright power, throughout society.

Lance Wallnau, a leading proponent of this view, lists “seven mountains” of culture Christians should occupy: “church; family; education; government and law; media (television, radio, newspaper, Internet); arts, entertainment, [and] sports; commerce, science and technology.”

The aspiration is wrapped in evangelistic language: Transform the world with the gospel. But the dominionist idea is grounded in at least one error: Jesus never instructed us to take key positions of influence in this world. In fact, he rejected that temptation when it was presented to him.

Which takes me back to where I started.

Who do we say Jesus is? A conquering warrior or a crucified lamb?

Some among us would have us reject the crucified lamb in favor of the conquering warrior. They would have us take, hold and exert earthly power.

Yes, Jesus is King of kings and Lord of lords. In that respect, he is a conqueror. But not without also being “the lamb who was slain,” “slain from the creation of the world.”

And his call to us is not to conquer this world, but to deny ourselves, take up our crosses and to follow him.

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.

After a century of glory days, the church in 21st-century America is looking more and more like its 19th-century ancestor. Given the vibrance of American Christianity through the 20th century, perhaps we should welcome the return as a precursor to a new vibrance.

While I was with a group of pastors recently, we discussed trends in church life. Pastors do this kind of thing. A lot. Two trends we talked about stand out for me.

We talked about the return to the society method and what may be a return to circuit preachers. I’ll explain.

Mission funding

If you’re a Southern Baptist or an offshoot, you likely know about the Cooperative Program.

If you’re not or you don’t, the Cooperative Program was a genius idea launched in 1925 through which local churches, local associations and state conventions could send money voluntarily—whatever amount they determined—to the Southern Baptist Convention, and that money would be used to educate ministers and missionaries and to send them around the world.

A lot has been accomplished through the Cooperative Program.

Whatever you know about it, you may not know the Cooperative Program is a good 80 years younger than the SBC. In other words, not even Southern Baptists have always funded missions through something like the Cooperative Program.

Before the Cooperative Program, Southern Baptists and many other evangelical groups funded missions through the society method.

Before the SBC Executive Committee became the central recipient and clearinghouse for funds to support the SBC seminaries, publishing house, ethics commission, thousands of missionaries and otherwise, each missionary, missionary couple or entity solicited funds directly from local churches. They depended heavily on this direct funding.

What many Southern Baptists don’t know is the return to the society method started in practice in 1976 with Bold Mission Thrust and Mission Service Corps that came out of it.

Society method

Originally intended for volunteers—typically self-funded retirees—by the early 2000s, young seminary graduates were being recruited to serve as full-time career Mission Service Corps missionaries. My wife and I were two of them.

Mission Service Corps is part of the North American Mission Board—one of two mission boards receiving Cooperative Program funds.

We were recruited to collegiate missions. From the beginning, we were told we would have to raise our own support. We spent much of our fundraising helping Southern Baptists understand we did not receive any of their Cooperative Program or Annie Armstrong Easter Offering giving.

I could say a lot about that, but it’s enough to know here that my wife and I were returned to the society method more than 20 years ago. And the number of missionaries doing the same has only grown since that time.

Though the society method requires more work of each missionary and certainly feels more tenuous, there is an upside. Missionaries and funders are directly connected, and there is direct accountability. My wife and I really enjoyed knowing every one of our supporters.

The Cooperative Program was a fantastic idea. As effective as it has been, it hasn’t removed the need for direct support. Direct support is likely to become the norm again for Baptists in the 21st century. Let’s make the best of it.

Filling the pulpit

One thing the Cooperative Program enabled was training tens of thousands of ministers. This is one reason the SBC grew into the largest Protestant denomination in North America.

But the number of people training for pastoral ministry has dropped precipitously over the last 20 years. There’s coming a cliff of sorts. The pastors trained in SBC seminaries during the 1970s through the early 1990s are retiring or approaching retirement. And there are precious few pastors to follow them.

Think about this for a moment. The number of churches proliferated in the mid-20th through early-21st centuries. Seminaries cranked out pastors for them all. Not all the new churches survived, but many of them did. Now, we have fewer and fewer pastors ready to serve those churches.

There also is the matter of full-time pastorates. They’re becoming fewer and fewer. So, the fewer being trained to serve as full-time pastors are finding fewer full-time pastorates. More and more churches—especially rural churches—are looking for part-time or bivocational pastors because they can’t afford a full-time pastor.

And now, I’m starting to hear about churches sharing a pastor. Two or more churches sharing a pastor might sound strange to some Baptists, but only because we’re not old enough to remember when it was common. My great-great-grandfather was a circuit preacher.

Circuit preachers

Circuit preachers, for those unfamiliar, travel(ed) from church to church to preach and possibly teach a Bible study.

In some places, a circuit preacher will spend one Sunday at each church on the circuit. In other places, a circuit preacher will spend Sunday morning in one church and Sunday evening in a different church.

There are obvious drawbacks to this arrangement, but they can be overcome by the church members adjusting their expectations. They also can be overcome by church members taking on ourselves ministry roles we’ve delegated to “the paid professionals.”

For example, there is a difference between a pastor and a preacher, and not every minister is called or gifted to be both pastor and preacher in one person. But a body of believers—a church—should have within it those gifted to carry out pastoral ministry and others to teach and others to administrate and so on.

We need to develop these gifts in each other, and we need each to employ their gifts for the upbuilding of the church.

If the majority of churches in America—Baptist or otherwise—become unable to find or afford a full-time pastor, which seems increasingly likely, it would behoove every church in America to imagine the day when that scenario is not imagined but is reality for them.

And we shouldn’t be scared or embarrassed by these kinds of changes. The church thrives under these conditions. Just ask our forebears. Just ask churches around the world now that are leading people to Jesus, discipling them and sending out missionaries by the tens of thousands.

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.