The 89th session of the Texas Legislature just started. So, let’s talk about politics.

No, not like that.

Let’s talk about praying for politicians.

No, not imprecatorily—calling down God’s judgment on them.

Let’s talk about asking God to surround the Texas state representatives and senators serving in the 89th Texas Legislature—all of them—with wise counsel and to give them clear thinking, discernment and a heart for what is good and right.

Actually, let’s not just talk about it. We talk enough about prayer without ever getting around to praying. Let’s pray.

And let’s not just pray, which all too often is detached from action. Let’s match our prayers with our own engagement with our elected officials.

If this is as far as you’re going to read, then you know my main point, and you know I’m calling you to action, a particular action. But I hope you’ll keep reading—at least a little farther.

Importance of connected prayer

What I suggest above sounds more like asking God to bless our politicians than to set them straight. I’m suggesting a far more expansive view than that.

When our politicians present bills with which we disagree, when they vote contrary to what we want or think is best, we often want our politicians set straight, not blessed.

But how often do we want them set straight enough to contact them by email, phone or in person ourselves? And how often, when we do contact them to set them straight, do they come away thinking we want what’s best more than we want their heads?

We need to connect our prayers to action, and we must connect our action to Christlikeness.

During the 88th Texas Legislature, I visited elected officials’ offices, most often engaging with their staffs since the various senators and representatives were in the thick of hearings. It might surprise you to know their reactions immediately were guarded upon hearing what we were there to talk to them about.

One staffer was immediately and visibly concerned when we told her the topic we were there to talk about with the representative she served. Ours was a hot topic, as in people were getting burned by it.

She seemed near tears when I told her we know their work is difficult and not everyone who communicates with them is friendly, and that we care about her and the representative she was serving. Which is true regardless of the politician and his or her position on issues.

When we pray and act, we must pray and act in the way Jesus taught. I don’t always remember that.

Connect prayer to the issues

Texas legislators need wisdom, discernment, clear and critical thinking, and a heart for what is right and good, because they will consider such things as education funding, elections, gambling and the content of higher education—among many other issues—during the current legislative session. They have much to weigh.

Texas House members already have submitted hundreds of bills.

Our lack of engagement with our elected officials sometimes is a result of our ignorance of the issues. And I don’t mean ignorance pejoratively. We can’t know everything, much less everything about everything. That’s just one reason we need as many of us as possible praying for and engaging with our legislators. Together, we can cover more ground.

Our legislators also can’t know everything about everything. That’s why they have aides and interest groups have lobbyists.

That’s why legislators need all the things I’m calling us to pray for as they wade through information and misinformation and so they are more able to resist the pressure to appease powerful interests. And there will be pressure. There already is and has been.

A legitimate pressure on legislators is the weight of how their votes will affect millions of people. Millions. Tens of millions. Possibly for years.

Under such circumstances, prayer for wisdom, discernment, clear thinking, and a heart for what is right and good isn’t too much to ask.

How to connect prayer

It’s easier than you might realize to connect your prayers with your engagement with your elected officials. You can engage with your elected officials by phone, email or by visiting the Texas Capitol or your legislators’ district offices.

If you’re not sure who your elected officials are, you can find that information in a few ways. The “Who Represents Me?” website is probably the easiest and is a capitol.texas.gov website. Texas Tribune also offers a simple and user-friendly directory.

When you determine your elected officials and go to their respective webpages, you will see their contact information and a link to email them directly through either the Texas House or Texas Senate websites. I’ve emailed my elected officials several times that way.

If you’re able to travel to Austin during the legislative session, you generally will find the legislative offices open, staffed and waiting for your visit. You will be asked to record your visit in a handwritten register, which speaks to the value legislators place on in-person visits.

Preparing yourself

While you pray and/or before you go to Austin, I highly recommend reading Texas Tribune’s article “Texas Legislature 101: How bills become laws—and how you can participate in the process.”

If you do plan to go to Austin, and if you’d like to visit the Texas Capitol with others, you can put Texas Baptists’ Christian Life Commission’s Advocacy Day and/or Pastors for Texas Children’s Advocacy Day on your calendar. Both will be in Austin.

On March 3, CLC Advocacy Day attendees will learn about policies under consideration by the 89th Texas Legislature. On March 4, participants will learn how to conduct an in-person visit at the Capitol and have the opportunity to make such visits. Schedule and registration information is available here.

Pastors for Texas Children’s advocacy training and Capitol visit will be held March 4, beginning at 9 a.m. Registration is free, but tickets are limited. Register here.

At a bare minimum, ask the Lord to surround our elected officials with wise counsel and to give them clear thinking, discernment and a heart for what is good and right. And not just when the legislature is in session.

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.

January 6 holds particular significance. It’s the day we remember a king learning he had a challenger. The day came and went this year, and I wonder if we thought much about it.

We need to give the day some thought, though, because there are at least three lessons in it for us. So, I’m circling back a couple of days.

To be clear, I’m not referring to the 2020 contest between incumbent President Donald Trump and President-elect Joe Biden—though the juxtaposition of Jan. 6, 2021, with what I am referring to is interesting and worth consideration. But not here.

I am referring to Epiphany, a day on the church calendar little known to less liturgical Baptists. I’m one of those “less liturgical Baptists,” one who has had a little exposure to more liturgical churches.

Maybe we lesser liturgical types don’t know much about Epiphany because it’s kind of a catch-all day, and we like things simpler than that. The magi’s visit to Jesus, the appearance of Christ to the Gentiles, Jesus’ baptism and the wedding at Cana—all are commemorated on January 6, with some Christians observing the day on Jan. 1 or 19.

Here, I’ll focus on the magi’s visit to Jesus.

While various festivities are part of Epiphany, gift giving might be the most familiar to us less liturgical types, who attach gift giving to Christmas, not Epiphany. But let’s set aside the gold, frankincense and myrrh and pay a little more attention to what we’d just as soon forget.

Pay attention to mourning

If we do observe Epiphany, we’re not likely to spend much time remembering the boys slaughtered by order of King Herod, though it’s a crucial part of the story captured in Matthew 2. That is, unless we join the more liturgical types in commemorating the Feast of the Holy Innocents, or Children’s Mass, variously observed on Dec. 27, 28 or 29.

Being that all three of those dates fall between Christmas and New Year’s Day, I bet there’s not many of us joining in that feast. And considering how little I’ve heard even mentioned in the churches I’ve attended and served about the “weeping and great mourning … heard in Ramah,” I’m confident we don’t think much, if anything, about it.

But that’s a mistake.

It’s a mistake not to listen to what the whole story has to say, or even to acknowledge how a troubled ruler reacts to the promise of an infant child. It’s a mistake to think we can celebrate Mary and Joseph, shepherds and angels, a newborn baby and wise men from afar without attaching ourselves to what that baby means.

It’s like a line written by U2’s Bono and sung by Johnny Cash: “They say they want the kingdom, but they don’t want God in it.” Not that God, anyway.

There can be only one king. Herod knew it. In response, Herod demonstrated more resolve than so many of us who call Jesus “King.” He ordered the slaughter of all the boys 2 years old and younger in and around Bethlehem. He was taking no chances that one of those boys would sit on his throne someday.

But that possibility already had taken flight.

We must not overlook the fact that what has been good news for some has not been good news for all.

Pay attention to suffering

We make, break and joke about New Year’s resolutions while ignoring Herod’s resolve … and its failure. Ah, it’s failure. We get caught up in our own challenges without giving thought to how the very presence of Jesus in this world troubles others.

Consider this: At the beginning of Jesus’ life, the highest government official of the moment decided it was better for a generation of boys to be wiped out than for a king to have to vie for the throne. At the end of Jesus’ life, the highest religious official in the land that year—Caiaphas—said it is better for one man to die for the people than for a whole nation to perish.

Either way, when the powerful feel threatened, someone will suffer. First, it was Jesus’ neighbors. Then, it was Jesus himself. And then, for a while, it was Jesus’ followers.

Do we ever feel threatened by Jesus? We may not be the most powerful people of our day, but we have more influence over others than we may realize or want to accept responsibility for. How much will others suffer if or when we feel threatened by Jesus?

Meanwhile, what we have given all too much consideration is that associating too closely with Jesus will bring suffering to us. If so many are so bent on killing him, why should they feel any different about those who look just like him? Is that why we don’t look more like him?

To Herod and those who carried out his order, all those boys looked the same. Not one of us wants to get caught up in that.

No wonder we ignore Epiphany. Ignoring it is the easiest way to stay away from the troubling parts.

Pay attention to possibility

When we do pay attention to the story of the magi’s visit, we focus on the exotic and the gifts, as if to make Jesus more acceptable by making his biography more palatable.

When we do give attention to the magi’s visit, we do all we can to avoid the ethical predicament of Herod’s massacre, as if to issue God the pardon that will maintain God’s divinity.

By not giving the magi’s visit its due, we overlook something hurried past even here in this editorial. With all the doom and gloom, the slaughtering and suffering and mourning, we may not see possibility in our midst. In fact, it’s because of that doom and gloom that we need that possibility.

It’s that possibility that shines a light on Herod’s failure to kill it. It’s that same possibility that exposes Caiaphas’ error in forgetting all things are possible with God—even in the midst of doom and gloom and death. If that were not so, what would it matter, that possibility?

One last thought: Is it possible we want to sanitize Jesus’ story because we don’t want his to look too much like our own? But that would be to resist the possibility that Immanuel—God with us—actually means God is with us, completely.

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.

“O holy night, the stars are brightly shining …”

It’s long been one of my favorite Christmas hymns. Sung well, it gives me chills every time.

At the same time, the song is such a ubiquitous feature of the Christmas season that it easily can be ignored as so much seasonal background music.

And then comes along a unique arrangement of the well-worn classic that jars me back into the present. And that’s what happened to me Sunday morning during our church’s worship service.

Hearing a hymn anew

The song progressed as usual from the opening line through the first verse and chorus—a duet singing smooth phrases sliding from one into the next through “o night divine.”

The choir rose to sing the next verse, which happens to be the third verse. Nothing unusual so far.

The orchestra crescendoed.

“Truly
he taught us”

Staccato with a hard stop.

Smooth: “To love one another;”

Stop.

Smooth: “His law is love and his gospel is peace.”

The men only:

“Chains shall he break”

Staccato with a hard stop.

Smooth: “For the slave is our brother,”

The women joined in to sing the next phrase forcefully, crescendoing on the last word:

“And in his name all oppression shall cease.”

Hard stop.

Backed by the soft music of strings and wind instruments, a whole world opened in my mind.

How the hymn got me

I’ve always sung and heard sung the lyrics to “O Holy Night” as a celebration of fulfilled promise. The Messiah has come and will make all things right. Oh. Night. Divine!

But the phrasing and its delivery Sunday morning shifted the subject importantly. And here’s the gotcha.

I was being addressed.

Yes, his law is love and his gospel is peace. Yes, Jesus will break every chain. Yes, the slave is our brother. But …

“In his name all oppression shall cease.”

“In his name …”

“Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5 NASB).

Are we not those who pray in his name, gather in his name, claim to act in his name?

And yet, has oppression ceased?

You might think I’m overreacting, that I’m taking things too far. And I might agree with you if not for the previous line and its scriptural context.

“Truly he taught us to love one another.”

Yes, yes, he did. And he expects us to obey his teaching and to teach others to obey his teaching.

So, we gather in his name and pray in his name and identify ourselves with his name.

And yet, oppression has not ceased.

The chill is no longer the involuntary frisson of awe-inspired cold across the skin. The chill now is the bone-cold of holy fear.

Lord, we have taken your name in vain. We have proclaimed the wonder of your incarnation, the power of your death and resurrection, and the joy of your salvation. But though we have taken on your name, we have not done all you taught us.

How the hymn gets us

We have conformed to the principles and values of this world. In so doing, not only have we not broken all chains and ended all oppression, we have put many in chains, and we have fueled oppression.

We want the best price for ourselves, whatever it may cost someone else. We want comfort and security, whatever it may take from someone else. We want what we want, whatever it may do to someone else to get it, to have it.

Joy to the world, indeed.

Yes, Lord, the world lay long in sin and error pining. We, your people called by your name, have lain long in our sin and error, thinking we were exempt from such confession and repentance.

Hard stop.

How the hymn redeems us

If this were the end of the matter—or even just the end of the hymn—well, talk about a Debbie Downer just in time for Christmas.

Ah, but if this were the end of the matter, there wouldn’t be Christmas. And there wouldn’t be “O Holy Night.”

As the instrumental interlude gave way to the choir softly intoning, “Sweet hymns of joy,” my vision was swallowed up by the final proclamation:

“ … in grateful chorus raise we …
Christ is the Lord! O praise his name forever!”

No, all chains have not been broken … yet. No, all oppression has not ceased … yet. Nevertheless, his law and his gospel are not without effect and are still in effect. And his call still stands to carry forth in the character of his name.

Therefore,

Let us fall on our knees. “Let all within us praise his holy name.”

Let us not just sing “sweet hymns of joy.” Let us live them.

Let our words and our deeds, let our thoughts and our actions embody the hope, the peace, the joy and the love—the release from all captivity, the freedom from all oppression—our namesake Christ Jesus taught us.

May our lives be how “his pow’r and glory evermore” are proclaimed.

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.

It’s not easy to be a Christian, but where might surprise you.

We publish a lot of news and opinion articles about religious liberty—specifically, violations of religious liberty.

We publish these articles because one of our three core commitments is historic Baptist principles. And one of the most historic of Baptist principles is a dogged commitment to religious liberty.

Baptists arose in a so-called Christian context in which fealty to a conjoined state church and government not only was expected; it was enforced. Some of our forebears experienced the ire of churches and governments who would not abide our beliefs and practices.

Some of our forebears were deemed rebellious, called Dissenters, and were imprisoned, tortured or even executed for believing—and practicing—such things as a person should be baptized only after making a personal decision to believe in Jesus.

Baptists see the lack of religious liberty for one person somewhere as a threat to religious liberty for all people everywhere. And so, we defend religious liberty, not just for ourselves, but for all people.

Much of what we published just this last week tells this story. These stories point to places where it’s hard to be a Christian—at least, in one sense.

Places Christians suffer

We tend to think it’s hard to be a Christian in places where Christians suffer for being Christian.

For example, many of us remember stories of severe repression of Christians in the Soviet Union, which included Ukraine. After the fall of the U.S.S.R. and Ukraine gaining independence, Christian churches and missions flourished in Ukraine.

Today, Baptists and other Christians in Ukraine worry about new religious repression there by Russia. Such repression already is happening in Russian-occupied areas of southeast Ukraine. Even so, Ukrainian Christians report the church in Ukraine is growing. Some say it’s thriving.

Christians in Palestine—the one in the Middle East, not East Texas—have endured significant pressure and worse, and not just for several days. They face a unique set of difficulties related to being Palestinian and Christian in Israel or Israeli-occupied territory.

In addition to news about what is happening with Christians in Gaza since the most recent war began, we have published the viewpoint of a Palestinian Christian living in the Middle East. Part of his view is captured in his Advent series you can read here.

A few days before we in America stuffed ourselves with gratitude, a Baptist in northeast India was arrested for violating the Assam Magical Healing (Prevention of Evil) Practices Act. The charge? That he preached the Bible to children.

Our brother remained in custody for 14 days—while we consumed the leftovers of our Thanksgiving feast.

Christians have faced persecution frequently in various places throughout India, as another story we recently published reports. Search our website, and you will find more recent and similar stories. And not just in India, but also in Nigeria, Myanmar/Burma and elsewhere.

Two senses

No doubt, it’s hard to be a Christian when to identify with Christ very likely will cost you your reputation or standing in the community, your relationships with family and friends, your business, your education, your freedom, your health and safety and that of your family, and even your life or the lives of your loved ones.

In this sense, there are plenty of places in the world where it is very hard to be a Christian.

And yet, we encounter story after story of people living in these places and facing these conditions—not the prospect of these conditions, but the ongoing reality of these conditions—whose trust in Jesus is unshaken, who testify of joy and hope, who praise God even while suffering.

These testimonies give witness to people unmoved from what it means to be a Christian—a committed follower of Jesus, no matter what.

Such stories suggest we may be using the wrong sense to define what makes it hard to be a Christian. Is there another sense in which it is hard to be a Christian, a sense many of my readers and I don’t experience and, as a result, ignore to the detriment of our souls? Yes, there is.

Where it’s hard to be a Christian

The other sense in which it is hard to be a Christian is less about suffering in the world than it is about the willingness within.

The place where I know it’s hard to be a Christian is within the person who rejects Jesus; the person who refuses to believe; the person who is apathetic about following Jesus; the person who thinks he or she has done all that is required; the person who has grown cold, cynical, jaded to Jesus.

It’s hard to be a Christian in a cold heart.

It’s also hard to be a Christian in a distracted heart.

It’s hard to be a Christian when a person doesn’t give a moment’s thought to Jesus; when a person is busy, busy, busy; when a person fills the time with scrolling, video games, and other entertainments and distractions.

God knows. Boy, does God know. God has known since at least the day he went looking for Adam and Eve in the Garden: “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9).

God knew all through the Old Testament: “These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isaiah 29:13).

God knew this when he gave his Son—Immanuel, God-with-us—who would be rejected, despised, crucified.

God knows this still.

We who live without struggle in one sense are filled with it in another sense. We may not experience religious persecution like our brothers and sisters elsewhere, but we may be taking our religious liberty for granted. And it may be showing up in a cold and distracted heart.

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.

On Nov. 22, the Texas State Board of Education approved controversial public education curriculum. But not unanimously.

The Texas Tribune reported a handful of reasons some members of the State Board of Education opposed the new curriculum, one of which is its religious content. While there is merit to the other issues they raised, the religious content raises particular concern for this Baptist editor.

Religious content

It’s not just that the newly approved Bluebonnet Learning curriculum includes references to the Bible and Christianity. That the Bible and Christianity appear in public school curriculum for elementary students, by itself, shouldn’t raise alarm in a country so profoundly shaped by the Bible and Christianity.

What ought to give us pause and what ought to have stood in the way of the curriculum being approved is what it says about the Bible and Christianity.

Bluebonnet Learning curriculum is available to the public for free. Anyone can read the content for themselves and come to their own conclusions about it. You don’t have to take my word for it.

That being said, what is this religious content people are so up in arms about? The story of creation from Genesis, a lesson on King Solomon, lessons on the Golden Rule and Good Samaritan, Daniel in the lions’ den, lessons on Esther and the beginning of Christianity, among others.

Your eyebrows may be raised. You might be thinking: “This is the problem? What in the world is wrong with teaching these things?”

For me, the problem is content and context. Lessons on the Golden Rule illustrate my point.

The Golden Rule

I think everyone needs to learn and live by the Golden Rule. I don’t have a problem with the Golden Rule … except that it’s so hard to live by consistently.

I don’t even have a problem with a public school teacher—who might not be a Christian—telling my children about the Golden Rule and that they ought to live by it. If I had a problem with it, the rule might not be so golden.

I also don’t have a problem with a public school teacher acknowledging the fact other religions teach a similar principle. There’s no use in denying that fact, and again, if the principle isn’t transferable to other religions, the rule might not be so golden.

I do have a problem, however, with the watered-down treatment of the Golden Rule. I have a problem with its being pulled out of its wider context in the Sermon on the Mount. And I have a significant problem with the insinuation that since other religions teach a version of the Golden Rule that all these religions teach the same thing. They do not. Not even about the Golden Rule.

While the curriculum for the lessons on the Golden Rule are available for free, they aren’t necessarily easy to find. Here’s a link to the specific teacher’s guide. The pertinent content begins on p. 17.

Generally right

On p. 18 of the Serving our Neighbors Kindergarten Unit 7 Teacher Guide, the curriculum reads: “Jesus said that the Golden Rule sums up all of the important teaching from scripture. ‘So in everything, do unto others as you would have done unto you.’”

Mm, in a general sense, perhaps. But this is one of those instances when I’m not satisfied with the general sense.

Matthew 7:12 reads: “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets” (NIV).

The curriculum leaves off “for this sums up the Law and the Prophets,” which might not be a big deal except that Jesus thought it was important enough to include.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” you might say. “The curriculum says, ‘the Golden Rule sums up all the important teaching from scripture.’ Aren’t the Law and the Prophets all the important teaching from Scripture? Isn’t the curriculum close enough?”

I like to answer a question with a question, and sometimes I like to be ornery in the asking: “Is 4.5 close enough to 2 + 2? Why would we settle for close enough when teaching Christian concepts, but demand exactness when teaching so much else?”

The broader context

For the record, Christians don’t typically teach the Golden Rule sums up all the important stuff in the Bible. We typically teach the Great Commandment does: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments’” (Matthew 22:37-40 NIV, emphasis added).

Jesus said this in reply to “an expert in the law” asking “which is the greatest commandment in the Law” (Matthew 22:34-36). Jesus went beyond the Law to answer what is most important in all of Scripture.

What Bluebonnet Learning leaves out—and this should matter immensely to Christians—is that this serving, caring for, loving our neighbors is in direct relationship to our love for, obedience to and worship of the One God and Lord. But including that probably would get Bluebonnet Learning a straight ticket to court.

Other religions

Perhaps I’m just being nitpicky or crotchety about this. Maybe I’m just looking for the tiniest flaw to smudge into a great big scribble. Mm, maybe. And then I get to the bottom of p. 19, and I say, “Hold up.”

“… there are also versions of the Golden Rule in the ancient books from other religions, including Hinduism and Islam. The Golden Rule suggests that every small act of kindness matters.”

OK. Yes, every small act of kindness matters. But that is not what Jesus was teaching. He was teaching something far more important than kindness. And frankly, public school teachers shouldn’t get into that “something far more important” in this context. We as our kids’ parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, pastors, ministers and Bible teachers should.

But the “versions of the Golden Rule” Hinduism, Islam and other religions teach are not equivalent to what Jesus taught. Nor are those versions within the same context as what Jesus taught.

I realize you can’t get into all the nuances of religious difference with a kindergartener—or maybe you can with enough time and patience—but Bluebonnet Learning’s gloss of this ought to bring into question what else the curriculum may be glossing.

I also realize public elementary school curriculum isn’t the place to get into the finer points of religious doctrine. Oh, wait. Then why set that can of worms in front of kindergarteners in the first place? And after doing so, why leave them with the impression that all religions basically teach the same thing?

And I haven’t even gotten to what the curriculum says about creation, Solomon, Esther, Daniel or Paul.

I don’t have time to get into how the door is now open for Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist and other scriptures—and their doctrines—to be taught in Texas public schools.

Bottom line

I appreciate the inclusion of important religious history and concepts in public school curriculum. If we’re going to raise well-informed citizens of the world, this content must be taught to our kids.

But how it’s taught needs to be accurate, and public elementary schools simply aren’t the place for that. Public middle and high schools may not be either.

Texas public school districts are not obligated to use Bluebonnet Learning. The choice is left to each school district. Each one should decline to use it, and not just for the limited reasons I’ve discussed here. They should look for stronger curriculum more appropriate for their setting, even if they forfeit the $60-per-student bribe from the state to adopt it.

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.

It’s almost Thanksgiving. So, like most of us, I’m thinking about giving thanks. In particular here, I’m thinking about how grateful I am for the many donors who make the ministry of Baptist Standard Publishing possible. But I don’t think about this only at the end of November.

My pastor Craig Curry has been thinking about thanksgiving, too. Sunday, he preached on it. In particular, he preached on the story as John tells it of Jesus feeding 5,000 men. There were many more thousand if counting the women and children present.

Curry focused on Jesus giving thanks before he broke the bread. He elaborated on what it must have been like to watch Jesus as he broke the bread and then continued breaking it until everyone ate their fill.

He exhorted us not to lose the wonder of that moment. But as much as I tried to suspend my familiarity with the story so I could behold it with fresh eyes, my attention mostly was on Jesus’ exchange with Philip.

As an executive director, I have to think about money quite a bit—where it will come from and how it will be spent. So, the exchange between Jesus and Philip struck a particular chord in me.

How are we going to pay for it?

“When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, ‘Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?’ He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.

“Philip answered him, ‘It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite’” (John 6:5-7).

Curry made the point that Philip didn’t answer the question Jesus asked. Jesus asked, “Where,” and Philip responded, “How much.”

I’ve been in nonprofit work most of my adult life—self-supporting missions, the church and now Baptist Standard Publishing. I’ve asked many times about where to go to find enough “bread” to pay for the bread. It comes with the territory in nonprofit work. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

When my wife and I started as self-supporting missionaries, I was … well, you could say I was terrified about having enough money to pay our bills. My wife wasn’t as concerned; she trusted God would provide. But I wasn’t used to trusting God for my salary. I was used to trusting my employers.

And God did provide. Not all at once, but through hundreds of donors over the several years we served as collegiate missionaries. It was wonderful. We still have relationships with some of our donors almost 20 years later. God did provide, and it was enough.

Jesus asked where to buy food. The response of faith is, “Lord, you will provide.”

Pray for it

My wife and I concluded our time as self-supporting missionaries in 2008. I became executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard in June 2018. Between the two, I served two churches, where I came to appreciate even more the sacrifices people make to support what they believe in.

Baptist Standard Publishing is a nonprofit and has been since 1915. Nonprofit is a legal designation, but in the years before 1915, when it was privately owned, the paper literally was nonprofit—meaning, it really didn’t make much money. Former Baptist Standard Editor Presnall Wood tells the story in Prophets with Pens.

For more than a century, Baptist Standard paid its bills through subscriptions, advertising and donations. Today, we meet our financial obligations through advertising, endowment earnings and donations. The second and third sources of income have considerable overlap.

Most of the endowment income is generated by long-term investments made by donors. As thankful as we are for these long-term investments—and we are thankful, very thankful—we also rely on donations to our current operating budget. God has provided through hundreds of donors. We celebrate each one.

In at least two recent instances, donors have answered specific prayers we didn’t tell them we were praying. In mid-December 2023, the staff asked the Lord to send us a large donation at the beginning of the following week. Little did we know, our prayer was already being answered.

In the mail at the beginning of that following week was a large donation. Mouth agape, I called the donor immediately, and I sent an email, and I wrote a note. It’s amazing when Jesus breaks the bread.

A couple of weeks ago, one of our staff members asked God for a specific amount to bring us up to a specific percentage of our annual donor goal. Little did she know, her prayer was already being answered.

A few days later, I received a check I didn’t know was coming. When I told the member of our staff the amount, she stopped me, and with tears in her eyes, she told me about her prayer—which I didn’t know about until she told me. I couldn’t wait to call the donor to share this story, and we celebrated together.

God doesn’t answer every pray that way, but God did answer two like that. We celebrate that just as we celebrate every donor and donation—regardless of the amount—because when Jesus breaks the bread, there’s enough.

Why we’re thankful for our donors

We celebrate donors because God answers prayers through them. God makes provision through them. God ensures ministry is accomplished through them.

We celebrate donors because they encourage us and partner with us. Together, we connect God’s story and God’s people to grow God’s kingdom. For more than 20 years, I have experienced the joy and wonder of that—first in self-supporting collegiate missions, then as a pastor and now with the Baptist Standard.

And so, I say, “Thank you.” Thank you to those reading this who have donated to the Baptist Standard. Whether you’re a long-time donor or a new one, and no matter the amount you’ve given, you have partnered with us and allowed us to partner with you. Thank you!

Not all our readers donate to us, but I know most—if not all—our readers donate to at least one person, organization or cause. Many give to more than one. And so, I say, “Thank you,” again. Thank you for the sacrifices and investments you make in others. May it be for God’s glory.

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.

My first direct experience with Southern Baptist Convention business was the 1988 SBC annual meeting in San Antonio. I was 13 and old enough to be appalled at the way adults who called themselves Christians talked to and about each other at the microphones.

I watched all I wanted to see of it—on the big screen, no less—from a theater seat in an overflow room of the San Antonio Convention Center. Within minutes, I left. As far as I was concerned, the adults should have been ashamed of themselves.

But I’m the adult now, with teenagers of my own. Am I any better? Lord, you know the truth I don’t want to confess out loud.

We don’t like to talk about it in public, but the fact is bitter division is a large part of our Baptist heritage and legacy. It’s who we have been, and it’s what we have passed down.

It didn’t have to be that way then, it doesn’t have to be that way now, and it sure doesn’t have to be that way going forward. But to leave a better legacy, we’re going to have to work together.

But we’re not together

I need to stop here for a moment to respond to objections I already hear.

Work together? We already tried that. There’s a reason we split. There’s a reason we don’t cooperate with them. They—whoever “they” happen to be for you—weren’t going to have it. They didn’t want to work with us. They excluded us. They left us.

Yes, more than once we have had strong disagreements over substantive issues. Our respective positions on these issues have been enough to make cooperation between us unworkable at times. We have separated over some of these issues, sometimes by necessity.

But the fact of those separations and the reasons for them do not excuse the grievous ways we have regarded each other because of our differences. We may not be able to change the substance of our disagreements, but we can change the tone of them.

By calling us to work together, I’m not saying we need to ignore what separates us and simply come back together in a kumbaya moment. I’m saying we need to change how we conceive of and speak about one another. Even if we can’t work together any other way—though I think we can—that’s where we need to work together to leave a better legacy.

I see glimpses of this happening within the Baptist General Convention of Texas after the motion to affirm the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message was defeated.

Still welcome

Following the close of the BGCT’s 2024 annual meeting in Waco, I was in the crowd waiting for the doors to open letting us into the room where the panel discussion on women in ministry would be held.

With the defeat of the motion fresh in the air, I overheard conversations about what the motion’s defeat might mean for churches that affirm and follow the 2000 BFM. Concern already had been voiced during floor discussion that those churches would feel or be distanced from Texas Baptists.

This concern was echoed in conversations I overheard in the hall. At least one person said some who opposed the motion communicated—not at the mic—that 2000 BFM-affirming churches should go to the other convention—the Southern Baptists of Texas.

The SBTC formed within the BGCT in 1995 before becoming a separate entity in 1998. The SBTC adopted the 2000 BFM soon after its adoption by the SBC. The BGCT has adopted the 1963 BFM, but neither the 1963 nor the 2000 “confession of faith is a requirement for inclusion in the BGCT.”

While churches that affirm the 2000 BFM always have been included and welcome in the BGCT, and their pastors and church members have served on BGCT committees and on boards of BGCT-affiliated institutions, several who voted against the motion want to make clear this is not a matter of mere toleration.

It’s a matter of continuing ministry that’s been shared for at least the last 24 years. It’s a matter of friendship and fellowship. It’s a matter of working together for the sake of God’s kingdom.

The “no” vote on the motion was not intended to end that welcome. Several are working to make sure the continuing welcome is clearly communicated.

Getting there

This communication will take time and will require clear and kind words. More importantly, it will require the right spirit and attitude—a spirit and attitude that has been absent far too often in all our disagreements.

Far too often, we have allowed anger, hurt, disappointment and pride to govern what we say about those with whom we disagree, and how we say it. Brothers and sisters, this must not be so.

If churches do decide to separate from the BGCT, they ought to go with blessing and not cursing. They ought to go with prayers for God’s kingdom to flourish in and through them. And the same should be given to those who remain in the BGCT.

The preference, however, is that there be no more separation, that those who disagree will work through their disagreement to a new place of deeper and more God-honoring relationship. This hard and sometimes long work doesn’t require compromising convictions. It requires time, grace, patience, kindness, love, prayer and God’s Spirit.

Baptists—like other Protestants—have a long history of separating. It’s part of our heritage and legacy we prefer not to spotlight, probably because it comes with a lot of heartache. When we do talk about it, we glory in our side—the one truly Christian and faithful to Scripture. But this isn’t winning converts—or our children.

As followers of one Lord, let’s work together to leave a better legacy, one our children will be eager to pass down.

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 few years ago, not quite in living memory, Paul encouraged Gentile Christians to partner with their brothers and sisters in Jerusalem. The Christians in Jerusalem were struggling, and Paul exhorted their Gentile brothers and sisters to come alongside them so they wouldn’t struggle alone.

As far as Paul was concerned, partnership was a strength of the early church.

As far as I’m concerned, partnership is still a strength of the church. And I’m not any more starry-eyed about it than Paul was more than a few years ago.

The Baptist General Convention of Texas demonstrated this strength during its 2024 annual meeting.

Partnering around the world

A highlight of the annual meeting held in Waco, Nov. 10-12, was the signing of partnership agreements during the report of Texas Baptists’ Executive Director Julio Guarneri.

This might not excite you, especially if you weren’t there. After all, what’s exciting about two people signing a piece of paper? Fair enough.

It’s what these signings signify that’s exciting. These agreements signify Texas Baptists’ willingness and commitment to join hands in ministry through financial, human and material resources.

Maybe that’s still not all that exciting to you. Again, fair enough.

Consider this: Agreements are usually signed one at a time in smaller and less-public venues. We usually learn about them in press releases published in places like the Baptist Standard. This time, though, eight agreements were signed at once in front of hundreds of people who shared in the celebration Monday evening of the convention.

And the joining of hands in ministry spans the globe. This is what really is exciting to me.

New and renewed agreements were signed between the BGCT and these eight ministry organizations: the National Baptist Convention of Mexico, the Brazilian Baptist Convention, the Ukrainian Baptist Union, the National Baptist Convention of America, the Baptist Convention of Argentina, the Baptist Union of Scotland, the GlocalNet church mobilization and multiplication movement, and the Baptist World Alliance.

What these agreements mean

Importantly, these are not one-way agreements. This is not well-to-do Texans swooping in to save the world from hunger and strife. This is a joining of forces, a bringing together of the gifts and resources God has given people in different parts of the world so they can pursue and accomplish their individual and shared calls from God.

These agreements are recognition that places with perhaps fewer material resources, places where Christians face persecution, places torn apart by war are not without their own strengths. Despite the real struggles fellow Baptists endure in some of those places, they are leading many people to follow Jesus, they are planting churches, and they are training others in ministry.

These partnerships aren’t and won’t be perfect. They will be challenging at times. There will be disagreements, misunderstandings and disappointments. Some may not last. Even so, they will enrich the whole body of Christ simply for having been attempted.

What these partnerships are is an acknowledgement that we can’t and aren’t supposed to carry out by ourselves the work God gives us. That acknowledgement is a show of strength.

Partnerships within Texas

There is another set of Texas Baptist partnerships to celebrate. These are the joining hands of the BGCT and the African American Fellowship, African Fellowship, Cambodian Fellowship, Chinese Baptist Fellowship, Japanese Baptist Fellowship, Korean Baptist Fellowship, Laotian Fellowship, Vietnamese Baptist Fellowship, and Hispanic Baptist churches either through Texas Baptists en Español or Convención Bautista Hispana de Texas.

Not to mention the partnership ministry carried out by Texas Baptists’ Intercultural Ministries with numerous ethnic, national and language groups not listed above. Many of their ministries are thriving, multiplying and worthy of emulating.

Too often, we underappreciate the significance of these partnerships within Texas—if we’re even aware of them at all. In my observation, these fellowships often are the growing edge of the church as a whole and Baptists in particular. They should not be overlooked but celebrated as part of our strength.

Partnership isn’t easy

All of this about the excitement and value of partnerships may seem too bright. Given everything that transpired during the annual meeting, maybe it’s too much spin. I understand.

When we come together in a room with strong disagreement over significant issues—like which iteration of a statement of faith is best—the tension and tone sure seem to undercut the coziness of partnership. Words spoken in disagreement can carry the minds and conversations inside and outside the room far away from partnership. May the heart not be carried, also.

This is where the shine of partnership meets the grit of life together. No, we do not all agree. We do not all interpret the same words on the same page in the same way. We do see the world differently, sometimes very differently. And we still are one body in Christ, baptized in one Spirit.

More specifically, we who gathered Nov. 10-12 in the Waco Convention Center to carry out our shared business share in the legacy of the Baptists who went before us—all of that legacy, good and bad. And we share in the whole legacy we will pass to those who come after us.

Let us look to our one Lord—who is our ultimate strength—for how we can continue to partner even amid disagreement over statements of faith, struggling alongside each other more than we struggle against each other. That is a show of strength our descendants need.

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.

Donald Trump has won the 2024 U.S. presidential election. How should Christians respond to that?

Based on my social media feed and phone conversations on this day after the election, the answer is obvious. “We should rejoice,” some say. “We should mourn,” say others. Still others are conveying a different response, one I hope to communicate here.

Those who take Paul’s instruction seriously to rejoice with those who rejoice and to weep with those who weep will be busy—and exhausted—following yesterday’s election. But the occasion calls for a deeper and more prolonged response than rejoicing or weeping.

We need to remember two things: Our government is not our hope, and all people are to be treated as bearers of God’s image.

Out of these two things, we need to pray, seek the welfare of our society, care for all the vulnerable, worship the Lord and communicate Jesus’ good news.

Ground hope in Christ.

So much hope was pinned on the 2024 election. Among other hopes, so many saw the outcome as decisive for the future of our democracy. Maybe it was or will be, but such hope is too easily misplaced in politicians and policies.

One important response to this election is for us to be clear-eyed and single-minded about where we are to place our hope.

Christian, we are to place our hope squarely in Jesus Christ, who made all things and in whom all things hold together. He—not any politician or policy—is to have “first place in everything.”

Jesus Christ is the ultimate subject and object of hope, because he is hope’s source and fulfillment. Politicians and policies are like grass—here today and gone tomorrow.

Obey the greatest law.

How we as Christians are to conduct ourselves in light of the election isn’t determined by who won it. Our conduct is governed by a greater and higher law. We are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength, and we are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.

Loving God wholly and with our whole selves involves the way we regard and treat other people—all other people. If we are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves, we must fix in our minds that each of us is created in God’s image, and to disparage God’s image is not merely an affront to a person but is contempt for God.

Pray for others.

Sometimes it’s difficult to appreciate the image of God in another person, especially if that other person believes, behaves, looks and acts differently than us. Asking God to do for them what we want God to do for us—praying for them—can change our view of them.

That other person for whom we pray may be the current president or the president-elect, as Joshua Longmire encourages in his Voices article published this week.

Praying for the president isn’t just a nice thing to do, nor is it meant to be patriotic. As Longmire reminds us, praying for the president is consistent with the scriptural exhortation—again from Paul—to make “petitions, prayers, intercession … for all people—for kings and those in authority” (1 Timothy 2:1-2).

Work for society’s welfare.

While we do not have an earthly king, we do elect people to positions of authority. Our prayers for them, while possibly changing our view of them, also may lead to “the welfare of the city.” “Pray to the LORD on its behalf,” Jeremiah said, “for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (Jeremiah 29:7).

The above verse is not a universal command, but is a more specific instruction to the Hebrews who were taken into exile in Babylon. Even so, it exhibits a principle found elsewhere in Scripture of God’s expectation that God’s people will work for the well-being of others.

Ours is a divided society in which people are convinced others are working against their well-being. What an opportunity for God’s people to demonstrate God’s goodness by seeking the good of others.

Care for all the vulnerable.

Scripture is replete with commands to care for and look after the needy, orphans and widows; to welcome foreigners and give them shelter; to feed the hungry, clothe the naked and free the oppressed. Every part of Scripture—the Law, the historical books, the wisdom literature, the prophets, the Gospels, the letters—every part communicates this expectation of God.

So, whoever holds office, whatever party holds sway, our job, Christian, is to do as God expects.

Jesus said the vulnerable and needy would always be with us. Some try to say that means our efforts to care for them won’t change anything. I say, “Tell that to Jesus,” who made clear what difference it makes. You can read it here.

Worship the Lord.

Whether we celebrate or mourn the outcome of this election, neither response must take the place or stand beside the glory due only to the Lord our God—not to politicians, policies or parties.

The fear, anger, resentment, bitterness, suspicion and cynicism so prevalent among us these last several years are evidence of misappropriated worship. We have allowed things of this world to bend our knees. By contrast, when we worship the Lord alone, joy, love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control will be evident.

Christian, we must worship the Lord, not because of who won or lost an election, or whether there was an election at all. We must give the Lord our heart, mind, soul and strength—our all and our very best—because: “Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise” (Revelation 5:12).

His name is above every name, and at his name “every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:9-11).

Communicate Jesus’ good news.

Politicians can do only so much. Jesus, on the other hand, “was with God in the beginning” and “through him all things were made.” He is “the beginning and the end.” He “became flesh,” lived among us and laid down his life, so “whoever believes in him will not perish but will have eternal life.” In him, our pardon is purchased, our sins are forgiven, our eternal life is secure.

Christian, we are the ones who, in believing this good news, have identified with Jesus in his death, burial and resurrection, and are to lay down our lives in imitation of him—and no one else—to proclaim his good news so others might follow him.

This is how we are to respond to this and any election.

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 was a pastor of a small, country church, I often wondered if what I was doing mattered. I wish I’d known then what I can see now.

A word of encouragement to discouraged pastors: Pastor, your work will outlive you.

I didn’t have those words until I was finishing a news story we published yesterday about Arabic Church of Dallas. Learning the history of the church and its pastors shined a new and encouraging light for me on faithful pastoral ministry. I’ll return to this at the end.

To know your faithful labor in service of God’s call will live beyond your ministry is great encouragement to a beleaguered pastor. It is joy, maybe even tears of joy. But first, the tears.

The call

Pastor, you sensed a call to ministry at some point. It may not have been entirely clear what shape your ministry was supposed to take, or God may have spoken to you as if to Moses, delineating your call in unmistakable terms. Whatever the case, you know God called you to ministry.

If you were called while young, you may have gone to college or seminary full time to be faithful to God’s call and to prepare for ministry. Meanwhile, your friends pursued more prudent—read: lucrative, marketable—degrees and careers.

If you were called later in life, you may have given up a good career—if not lucrative, then at least secure. Your friends and colleagues may have thought you lost your mind for walking away from a perfectly good job. But you did it anyway, because you wanted to be faithful to God’s call.

Or you may be one of the growing numbers of bivocational pastors who serve a church while maintaining other employment. Your church is small, and you don’t have much—if any—free time, and you often may feel invisible. But you are determined to be faithful to God’s call.

You may not always be fully aware how important God’s call is for you. You may not be cognizant in the grind of the moment how it gets you through tough times, but it does.

The doldrums

Sometimes, when the budget’s tight, when expenses are going up and receipts are going down, you may wonder if you’re doing the right thing.

When the attendance numbers fall far below the membership numbers, when your sermons or Bible studies don’t seem to make a difference, you may wonder what it’s all for.

When your church isn’t growing, when baptisms are few, you may start to think your friends were right and wonder if you’re doing any good.

Intellectually, you know you won’t always see the fruit of your labor, but it would be nice to see some more fruit than you are seeing. You preach and teach eternal rewards, but an earthly confirmation here or there wouldn’t hurt your feelings.

Intuitively, you may have known life would be different when you became a pastor, but you may not have known just how isolated and lonely it can be. You sacrificed a lot for ministry, and your family probably has, too.

You may find yourself contemplating the ledger of life and think the debits of ministry far outweigh the credits of your ministerial efforts. You may think God is telling you to do something else. Maybe you’re looking for that something else.

Pastor, your work will outlive you.

That may not be a comfort. That may be precisely what you’re afraid of, that ministry may be the death of you. For some, this is humorous. For others, this is serious, and it’s OK for you to seek and receive help.

However fruitless your ministry may appear to you, the fruit of your faithfulness to God’s call will live beyond your ministry. Arabic Church of Dallas’ founding pastor Imad Shehadeh’s description of the church he planted 40 years ago helped me see that.

The celebration

“The Arab Church of Dallas is a living testimony of God’s faithfulness and the faithfulness of the leadership that served in it,” Shehadeh said in reference to the church’s recent 40th anniversary celebration.

Given the struggles the church has faced during its 40 years—money and membership among them—it would be easy and even natural for the church’s pastors to be discouraged from time to time. Most pastors can relate.

Even so, a ministry started and carried out in the face of significant challenges has continued beyond the tenures of four previous pastors. What’s more, their ministries have lived and are living—to turn the phrase a little—outside their local congregation, spanning the world. Yes, pastor, your work for the gospel will outlive you.

You may not see it now, but your faithfulness to God’s call has led others to follow Jesus, to praise the Lord, to study the Bible and to proclaim the gospel themselves. Your work—however far in the past—is producing good fruit still.

Pastor, your faithful work will outlive you.

Pastor appreciation

Pastors, like most of us, want their work to matter, but in a qualitatively different way. They carry the weight of eternity in what they do. They know their preaching, teaching, relating, officiating, administrating, leading and living affects souls not only in this life, but also in eternity. So, yes, they want their work to matter.

If your pastor’s work has produced good in your life, it won’t hurt to let your pastor know. If you can remember what your pastor said or did that produced good in your life, you can honor your pastor in two ways: (1) tell your pastor, if it’s still possible, and/or (2) share it with someone else who may need good in their life.

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 believe in the separation of church and state, which I understand to mean neither the church nor the state should exert authority or control over the other.

Many would agree blatant attempts by the church or state to control the other are not good for the state, the church or society. Some see it differently, though, arguing blatant Christian influence over the state—maybe even control—is good for church, state and society.

But what amount of influence rises to the level of authority or control over? Does a politician addressing a church from the pulpit as a politician and during a Sunday morning worship service constitute an attempt to exert authority or control over the church?

Local churches and communities—Baptist and otherwise—do not answer this question the same way.

Bill Pinson and Doris Tinker state it well in their Baptist Distinctives: “To work out what the concept of separation means in an ever-changing world is an abiding challenge. … Baptists are not oblivious to the gray areas in the relationship and the various interpretations of what separation means.”

At least three factors in the United States suggest we need to work out the concept: (1) increasing diversity, (2) continuing influence of the church, and (3) the challenge to separation of church and state from Christians who oppose or deny the idea.

Here, I will only touch on church-state separation and diversity.

Harris at the pulpit

Going back to my question above: I am not a fan of politicians addressing the church—as politicians—from the pulpit on Sunday mornings. In fact, I’ve been downright critical of it, particularly so when Robert Jeffress gave Donald Trump the pulpit during a “special Christmas Sunday” in 2021.

But at least Trump wasn’t given the pulpit right in the middle of the service. Nor did he speak from a higher position than the pastor, as happened Oct. 13 at Koinonia Christian Center in Greenville, N.C., when Vice President Kamala Harris addressed the congregation there.

To be fair, Bishop Rosie O’neal—the senior pastor of Koinonia Christian Center who founded the church in 1989 and presides over 22 congregations in the United States and abroad—generally preaches from the floor in front of the platform. Furthermore, the U.S. Secret Service probably has more say over where the vice president will stand to speak than even a bishop does.

The following Sunday, Oct. 20, Harris addressed the congregation of New Birth Missionary Baptist Church in Stonecrest, Ga., again from the pulpit in the middle of the worship service.

Harris’ message in both places focused on community, seeing a neighbor in the face of a stranger and putting one’s faith into action. Her use of Scripture in both messages was no more out of context than can be heard by some seminary-trained pastors.

Crossing the line

Harris is strongly opposed by many Christians for her strong support of abortion and LGBTQ rights. For these Christians, it’s simply too much even to think of Harris speaking from the pulpit on a Sunday morning.

Some of these same Christians do not express the same outrage—or any outrage at all—when someone who supports greed, hatred, sexual misconduct, lying or other sins speaks from the pulpit. And I’m not necessarily referring to Harris’ political opponent.

The strong feelings for and against Harris may obscure a more subtle problem I see. In both of her messages, she used Scripture and faith language in service of a political agenda—her own presidential campaign. Her aim was more explicit in Georgia than in North Carolina.

In her opening, after thanking New Birth Pastor Jamal Bryant for traveling the country “to encourage people to register and to vote,” Harris praised the leaders who went before for teaching “that faith and good works go hand in hand, and that is especially true when it comes to protecting our sacred right to vote and getting souls to the polls.”

Surely by drumming up the vote from the pulpit in the middle of Sunday morning worship services, a sitting vice president running for president crosses the line of church-state separation. But not all see it that way because of the broader context, which is one area where we need to work out the concept.

Differing views

Some congregations and communities have a different relationship with political leaders—and leaders in general—than others do. Some congregations celebrate, honor and identify with leaders in a way others do not.

Does this mean the different congregations have differing definitions of church-state separation? Does one value the principle more than the other, or even believe in the principle at all?

Given the difference between how different churches interact with political leaders, is it possible to arrive at a definition of church-state separation that is at once meaningful and also encompasses the differences? We won’t know without a robust conversation.

I’m Baptist enough to chafe at politicians addressing the church from the pulpit on a Sunday morning in their political capacity. In my view, Harris did that two Sundays in a row. I’m also Baptist enough to accept and champion the autonomy of each local congregation to decide for itself who will be in its pulpit on Sunday mornings and for what purpose.

And I’m Baptist enough to exhort Baptists not to give up the principle we’ve championed for centuries—that neither the church nor the state is to exert authority or control over the other. As our diversity increases, Baptists need to bring our diversity to the table to work out a concept all of us can champion far into the future.

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.

For more than a century, Hispanic Baptists have been a transformative force in the spiritual and social fabric of Texas, leaving a lasting legacy. Their unwavering commitment to evangelism, education and service has impacted lives across the state profoundly—from the rural border towns to the bustling streets of urban centers.

Through tireless dedication, Hispanic Baptists not only have built thriving congregations, but also have propelled significantly the mission of organizations like the Hispanic Baptist Convention of Texas and the Baptist General Convention of Texas. Their influence continues to resonate, shaping communities with the enduring light of the gospel.

At the heart of this legacy is a deep commitment to holistic ministry, grounded in the conviction that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:17, NKJV).

This vision arises from the Great Commission and the Great Commandment given by our Lord Jesus. It is evident how Hispanic Baptists continually have addressed both the spiritual and physical needs of their communities, embodying a mission that remains as essential today as ever.

Hispanic Baptist Convention of Texas

Founded in 1910, the Hispanic Baptist Convention of Texas—or Convención—has been instrumental in uniting and supporting Hispanic congregations across the state.

What began as a resource for Spanish-speaking churches has grown into a robust network of more than 1,100 congregations, each deeply committed to spreading the gospel and meeting the needs of their communities.

Convención’s mission has expanded to encompass church planting, leadership development and social outreach, empowering churches to serve as agents of transformation in their local contexts.

The reach of these churches extends far beyond the pulpit, addressing not only spiritual hunger, but also critical social and economic issues. From providing food and shelter to promoting education and health care, Hispanic Baptists have lived out the words of Philippians 2:4—“Let each of you look not only to his own interests but also to the interests of others.”

These churches’ holistic approach to ministry, fostered by Convención, has empowered them to shine the light of Christ, especially in the most challenging times.

Partnership with Texas Baptists

The partnership between Convención and Texas Baptists has played a vital role in expanding the influence and reach of Hispanic Baptist churches.

Together, they have equipped congregations to meet the diverse needs of their communities—whether through after-school programs and health services or responding to natural disasters, addressing economic hardships or navigating immigration crises.

Leadership development is a cornerstone of this collaboration. This commitment to nurturing leadership ensures Hispanic Baptist churches remain vibrant and effective for generations to come, sustaining the vital work of ministry across the state.

Many Hispanic Baptist pastors are bivocational, balancing the demands of secular employment with the call to shepherd their churches. Texas Baptists en Español provides critical training and resources to these leaders, enabling them to thrive in their dual roles.

Park Cities en Español, Dallas

Park Cities en Español—a Spanish-language ministry of Park Cities Baptist Church in Dallas—stands as a powerful model of holistic ministry.

A commitment to holistic ministry, as reflected in 1 Peter 4:10—“Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace”—has enabled the church to meet both the spiritual and material needs of its community during a time of crisis.

Located near neighborhoods such as Vickery Meadow and Bachman Lake, where economic hardship and immigrant communities face daily struggles, Park Cities en Español has embraced these areas as mission fields.

When the COVID-19 pandemic struck, Park Cities en Español responded swiftly by launching online services, distributing food and providing resources to families affected by job loss and isolation.

A key part of this outreach has been the church’s partnership with the Buckner Family Hope Center in Bachman Lake. Through initiatives like parenting and spiritual development classes, this collaboration resulted in the formation of a satellite worship service, now celebrating its first anniversary.

Additionally, the establishment of the Herrera Center in Vickery Meadow, where Park Cities en Español has hosted another satellite service for the past two years, has expanded the church’s reach further, providing vital resources and spiritual support to the community.

These partnerships not only address immediate needs, but also empower families with the tools and resources they need to build a brighter future. The work of Park Cities en Español embodies the message of Matthew 5:16—“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Iglesia Bautista Emanuel, McAllen

Iglesia Bautista Emanuel in McAllen, led by Pastor Edson Lara, serves as another powerful example of faith in action. Pastor Lara’s work embodies the call to action found in James 2:17—“Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.”

Situated in a community heavily populated by migrant workers and their families, the church addresses the deep-rooted issues of poverty and job insecurity many face daily. Pastor Lara’s ministry goes far beyond traditional church services to provide food distribution, medical assistance and educational support to those in need.

By actively engaging with the physical and spiritual needs of his community, Pastor Lara has created a church that serves as both a refuge and a resource. The impact of Iglesia Bautista Emanuel is felt throughout the region, as the church remains a constant presence in the lives of the families it serves, offering them hope and tangible support.

A lasting legacy

The enduring commitment of Hispanic Baptists in Texas to faith and service has left an indelible mark on the state, bringing hope to the forgotten, comfort to the suffering and the light of the gospel to those in need.

Their faithfulness to God and their communities has been a testament to his goodness, and their legacy of faith and service undoubtedly will continue to shape the future of Texas for generations to come, all for the glory of Jesus Christ.

Dr. Rolando D. Aguirre is chair of the board of the Hispanic Baptist Convention of Texas and associate pastor of teaching and Spanish language ministries at Park Cities Baptist Church in Dallas.