Millions of Christians and Muslims debate whether adherents of the two faiths worship the same god. Lately, I’ve been wondering if I worship the same god as some other Christians. For example, take Pat Robertson. Please.

On his 700 Club television program, the broadcaster and onetime U.S. presidential candidate discussed the devastating earthquake that leveled much of Haiti, leaving tens of thousands of people dead and many more injured.

“Something happened a long time ago in Haiti, and people might not want to talk about,” Robertson said. “They were under the heel of the French—you know Napoleon the third and whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said, ‘We will serve you if you will get us free from the prince.’ True story. And so the devil said, ‘OK, it’s a deal.’ And they kicked the French out. The Haitians revolted and got something—themselves free. But ever since, they have been cursed by one thing after another.”

Here are historical facts: The Haitian Revolution, led by slaves, took place from 1791 to 1804. The region, Saint-Dominique, was a French colony. The rebellion broke out in the aftermath of the French Revolution, which advanced the philosophy that all human beings are endowed with God-given rights. As the slaves launched their revolt, some of them turned to the only god they knew, seeking blessings in a ceremony led by Dutty Boukman, a Voudo (voodoo) priest.

Implications of the Haitian Revolution were enormous. Raymond Joseph, the Haitian ambassador to the United States, told MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow: The revolt eliminated slavery on Hispaniola, the island where Haiti is located. Haiti became the first democracy in Latin America, and democracy spread throughout the region. The revolution even strengthened the United States, because it led to the Louisiana Purchase, through which our country bought what became 13 states west of the Mississippi River for $15 million—or 3 cents per acre.

So, according to Robertson, God continues to “curse” Haitians in 2010 because their ancestors—impoverished slaves, yearning to breathe free—turned to the only god they knew anything about, leaning on beliefs that sprung from African animist folk religion. God drops buildings on children because of an event that took place 219 years ago. Oh, yeah, and back then, God took the side of slaveholders instead of slaves. And that same God plays favorites, allowing the United States to close the best real estate deal in history while punishing the Haitians for the very act that made the real estate deal possible.

That’s a god with which I’m not familiar.

Maybe Robertson worships a truncated version of the Old Testament God, remembering parts of verses, such as, “God stores up a man’s punishment for his sons,” (Job 21:19a) or “The fathers eat sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge” (Ezekiel 18:2b). Those verses don’t even reflect the God of the Old Testament, who forsook the notion that people are punished for the sins of others (Jeremiah 31:30, Ezekiel 18:4).

But I—and millions of Christians like me—worship God who loves, suffers and weeps with the poor. And since Haitians are among the poorest on Earth, we’re confident God’s divine heart breaks for them, as do ours. This is not a god who directs natural disasters to afflict the innocent. This is not a god who holds 200-year-old grudges. This is the God whose wrath kindles against the arrogance and mean judgmentalism of the proudly religious, like Robertson, but melts with the tears of Haitians.

Heaven only knows how much damage is done by the theological regurgitation of Robertson. But now, the rest of us must bestow Christ’s love upon Haiti. Please join my wife and me in supporting Texas Baptist Men or the Texas Baptist Offering for World Hunger to provide Haitian aid.

 
—Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks Blog.

Claims of persecution always deliver a jolt. That’s especially true when a U.S. Christian aspires to be the persecutee. In this context, “persecution” typically means one of three things: Either somebody disagreed with this particular Christian’s beliefs and said so. (What godless rudeness!) Somebody snickered at her religious behavior. (How mean!) Or someone with authority refused to allow him to exert his religious will upon others. (What’s this country coming to?)

Such protests of persecution might appear perplexing or peculiar. Primarily they’re paranoid and provincial. The cover package in this paper presents a broader perspective on persecution. Almost 70 percent of the planet’s population live where religion is highly restricted. Shocking as it may sound, zoning ordinances in American suburbs, banned Scripture signs at public school ballgames and store clerks who say, “Happy Holidays” don’t make the list. We’re talking about places where people are beaten, imprisoned, banned from the marketplace, denied education and even killed because of their faith. Beside them, U.S. Christians’ claims of persecution are pathetic.

As you might expect, one of the worst perpetrators is China, whose government is atheistic. Interestingly, however, the vast majority of religious persecution takes place in countries that are overtly religious. They’re all for practicing religion—but only their religion, observed only their way. The most strident are countries politically and/or socially dominated by Islam or some strains of Orthodox Christianity.

Counter-intuitively, U.S. Christians who play the persecution card often argue against the policies and principles that ensure not only their religious freedom, but the dream that their great-great grandchildren will have the opportunity to worship and live out faith as they do today.

American religion is protected by the first two clauses of the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” Thanks to the 14th Amendment, which applied the Constitution to the states, this means no U.S. government can fund or promote religion, but neither can it limit religious practice.

Christians who rail against the status of American religion usually fault principles embedded in the Establish-ment Clause. Ironically, although these people tend to distrust government, the logical consequence of their desire is government involvement in religion. A couple of examples are public school sponsorship of prayers and government funding of faith-based initiatives. The records of other countries illustrate the dire consequences of such action: They range from the anemic state-sponsored churches of Western Europe, where vital faith languishes, to the predatory state-sanctioned religions of Eastern Europe and the Middle East, where persecution predominates.

To a lesser extent, some U.S. Christians decry the Free Exercise Clause. This particularly is true when religion seems just plain weird, such as polygamous sects and animal-sacrificing cults. But it’s also true when religion feels threatening, such as mosques presided over by radical imams.

To ensure religious liberty, not only now but for their descendants, U.S. Christians will support the First Amendment and organizations that protect it, such as the Baptist Joint Committee, and even ones with which they sometimes disagree, such as Americans United and the Interfaith Alliance.

Any nation’s religious freedom is only as secure as the liberty afforded its minorities. So, to ensure America never succumbs to religious persecution, we must protect our minorities. If this doesn’t appeal to you as a deeply moral, intrinsically ethical and historically Baptist endeavor, then let it appeal to your self-interest. Contemplate the possibility your Christian descendants will be in the minority.

 
Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks Blog.

Oh, I’ve always known Christmas is all about the birth of Jesus, “the reason for the season.” I imagine that, as a child, I probably fixated on the gifts I’d receive more than on the birth of Baby Jesus. But even then, deep down, I knew receiving and giving gifts weren’t the focus of Christmas.

Through the years, I reveled in the celebration of Christmas: The Gospel of Luke’s moving account of Jesus’ birth—whether recited at church on Christmas Eve, spoken by Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas or read by a member of our family beside the Christmas tree—always moves me deeply. So do Christmas carols and Advent candles. As does good cheer that seems to pervade, at least for a couple of days or so. And also gathering of family, stirring refrains of Handel’s Messiah, contributions to missions, and purchase of food and gifts for less-fortunate members of our community.

All of this is well and good. Terrific, even.

But more and more, I’m grateful for Christmas because I’m increasingly aware of how much we need it.

I’m not talking about the “… need a little Christmas” sung by countless choirs at the beginning of innumerable pageants. That’s about glad tidings and good cheer, which, of course, we can use by the boatload. I’m talking about how much we need Jesus involved in and influencing our lives. It’s because of his arrival that we celebrate Christmas, and so the real celebration is about Jesus’ presence and activity in and among us. Jesus the Babe is cute and cuddly, even if some crying he made. But more and more, I’m grateful the God-Man entered our world and interacts with our lives.

Jesus came to Earth to fulfill the Law. That was good news for a race of people trapped in a quagmire of rituals, rules and regulations that estranged them from any kind of real relationship with God. But Jesus’ transcendence of the Law also is good news for 21st century people who know better but still seek meaning and validation by trying to be “good enough”—if not for God, then for practically everybody else. Jesus came to show us we never can deserve love or affection or praise or heaven. So, we can relax and accept all that, and more, as a gift. This is the hardest spiritual lesson for Christians with a Pharisaical-Puritanical streak in them. But it’s still true.

Jesus came to be the Prince of Peace, and, boy, do we ever need peace. We all crave world peace, what with our nation embroiled in two wars and other nations engaged in more smaller conflicts than you could shoot an automatic rifle at. But, more intimately, we’re starved for personal peace. Economic instability, partisan politics, belligerent blogs and ranting radio tear at our souls. Life is unsteady, leaving us uncertain. But Jesus came to give us peace—not just the absence of conflict, but the deeply grounded sense that God is in control and, external evidence aside, all is well.

Jesus came to press the reset button on all of history, and we need to press it again and again. In his first sermon, he annonced he’s on the side of the poor and disenfranchised, which is about as counter-cultural to contemporary America as any concept ever presented. To his closest followers, he revealed the greatest leaders are the ones who put themselves last, the people who suffer most will rejoice best, and those who risk boldly will be rewarded outlandishly. To his severest enemies, he said not a word of defense but resolutely set himself up for what conventional wisdom called failure in order to recalibrate eternity in synchronicity with God.

Yes, we need a lot of Christmas. But it has little to do with whether store clerks say, “Merry Christmas,” who arrives for dinner or what’s under the tree. It has everything to do with how our lives conform to the life that Holy Baby lived.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog.

The tension between Christian compassion and the duties of citizenship—particularly the responsibilities of public officials—has been in the news lately. Maurice Clemmons was free to walk into a Lakewood, Wash., coffee shop and murder four police officers because former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee, who was a Baptist pastor before he became a politician, let him out of prison about a decade ago.

Counting Clemmons, 1,033 Arkansas prisoners were pardoned or had their sentences reduced by Huckabee during his 10 1/2 years in office. An Associated Baptist Press article reports Huckabee apparently had a soft spot for prisoners who told them they had become Christians and had turned their lives around, as well as inmates whose pastors vouched they had experienced life-changing spiritual commitments. In fact, Huckabee granted twice as many clemencies as did his three immediate predecessors combined.

So, the fifth victim of Clemmons’ shooting spree may have been Huckabee’s presidential aspirations. Clemmons’ rampage eclipsed the carnage of Willie Horton, who committed robbery and rape while out of prison on a furlough program supported by 1992 presidential candidate Michael Dukakis. The “soft on crime” label stuck on Dukakis and contributed to his defeat.

Ironically, the Clemmons clemency leaves Huckabee in the same boat with another famous Baptist politician, Jimmy Carter. Huckabee is a conservative Republican; Carter is a moderate-to-liberal Democrat. Carter’s critics, particularly those with some theological understanding, accused him of being too naive, even too kind and decent, to lead the free world. They claimed his grace-shaped worldview did not serve him well on a planet filled with dictators and despots. And now Huckabee’s critics from both parties are questioning whether his sense of Christian compassion makes him too quick to offer second chances to felons.

The Carter-Huckabee comparison raises the question whether religious faith, or certain religious viewpoints, should prevent adherents from holding specific offices. The U.S. Constitution guarantees “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.” But practically, could religious belief—however noble its aspirations—disqualify someone from public office? For example, should a person whose convictions oppose capital punishment run for governor of a state like Texas? The governor is required to uphold the laws of the state, and Texas is the foremost practitioner of the death penalty.

Extremists stake out opposite ends of the spectrum, with some saying religious perspectives have no place in public policy and others claiming religious views should trump all others. But most citizens come down in the middle. We realize faith is integral to people’s lives and cannot be banished. We also recognize no religious tenet or organization has the right to dominate others. The tension of the extremes holds a tightrope we must walk as we balance competing perspectives.

Yet balance them we must.

If we realize faith is a vital component of full humanity, then we should be neither surprised nor disturbed when political leaders hold strong religious views—even when they differ from our own. In fact, we should welcome and foster clear dialogue about the role religious understanding plays in the decision-making processes of our leaders and would-be leaders. This will be a key issue in the next presidential election, whether Huckabee runs or not. (And 2012 is closer than you think.)

Baptists—whose 400-year heritage champions the autonomy of every soul and religious liberty—should be excellent facilitators of dialogue about the place of faith and the role of belief in public policy.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks Blog.

Once again, the Baptist General Convention of Texas has confirmed its conservative stance on sexuality. With few, if any, dissenting votes, messengers to the annual meeting in Houston declared Texas Baptists “maintain the consistent position of past convention statements and actions which affirm the biblical sexual ethic of fidelity in marriage and celibacy in singleness, and … the biblical image of marriage as the union before God between a man and a woman.”

The resolution specifically cited similar BGCT votes from 1982, 1992, 1996 and 2005 that said homosexuality, as well as any sexual activity outside of marriage, is contrary to God’s plan and sinful. So, Texas Baptists have stated our position clearly: Homosexual activity is (a) outside the will of God and (b) sinful.

In a simple world, that might settle this issue. Still, questions remain: How should churches relate to homosexuals? And how should the convention relate to churches with various responses to homosexuals?

The latter question prompted the biggest story leading up to the annual meeting. This summer, the Southern Baptist Convention removed Broadway Baptist Church in Fort Worth because of its perceived toleration of homosexual members, even though the church has not violated the national convention’s constitution by voting to endorse homosexuality. Subsequently, Baptists wondered if the BGCT would take similar action. At least one motion regarding whether to seat Broadway’s messengers was bound to come up in Houston. But the church decided to register its representatives as visitors, not messengers. That decision provided a grace-gift to the convention, since it avoided a contentious debate.

However, it did not settle the issue. Even if Broadway never returns, it is not the only church with homosexual members. While no BGCT church has endorsed homosexual activity, homosexuals are members of many Baptist churches—even very conservative ones, and even Southern Baptist ones. Will we start “outing” churches every time someone from outside a congregation identifies a member as gay or lesbian?

Let’s be clear: Texas Baptists have called homosexual activity sin, and that has been affirmed on this page before. But is homosexuality the only sin or the unpardonable sin?

If Texas Baptists are to be consistent, either we must offer some grace to congregations with which the majority of our convention does not agree (remembering the congregations themselves are not of one mind on this issue), or we must start removing congregations that are home to known sinners.

If we take that route, let’s begin with churches whose pastors blog about Texas Baptists—gossiping and sowing discord. They harm the BGCT far worse than has Broadway. Then, maybe we should remove churches with adulterous deacons, followed by churches with fornicating teens. And if we have any congregations left, why don’t we turn the dinner tables and deal with gluttony? Maybe gossip and gluttony don’t seem as heinous as homosexual sex, but will we blink at heterosexual sex outside of marriage?

Of course, the unspoken theme is fear of what others think. Over and over, we kept hearing worry about how churches from a competing convention would react if the BGCT seated Broadway’s messengers. But decision-making based on fear is unsound and unworthy of Texas Baptists’ consideration. We must be propelled by principle rather than pragmatism.

We now face an opportunity to demonstrate how a convention can maintain its Bible-based beliefs about sexuality while also cooperating to expand the cause of Christ, even as we disagree about some aspects of church practice. We can’t afford to lose fine churches like Broadway. Texas Baptists have reiterated our conservative theology; let us now demonstrate we are liberal in love, grace and cooperation.

 
Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks blog.

A Texas Baptist called the other day, seeking help for a new pastor in his community. Just a few years ago, the pastor’s church burst at the seams with members and bustled with activity. Then the neighborhood changed. Anglos began to die off or move away. Yet the church remained distinctively Anglo. So, the Hispanics who bought or rented the vacated homes have shown little or no interest in the once-booming, now-struggling Baptist church.

Is it a church with persistent, perplexing problems, or is it one with plentiful, promising possibilities? The answer depends upon how the members respond and how their new neighbors react.

One thing is certain, though: This congregation sits at the crossroads of Texas. It’s smack in the middle of a demographic intersection, and the barreling traffic of humanity won’t slow for years.

Ironically, Texas Baptists are proportionately—and perhaps psychologically—much better suited to come alongside this church than we were just a decade and a half ago. The Baptist General Convention of Texas’ changing ethnicity highlights research conducted by BGCT information analyst Clay Price and profiled in this edition of the Baptist Standard.

In 1995, the BGCT was 75% Anglo, 14% Hispanic, 7% African-American, 3% Asian and 1% other. By last year, the convention was 57% Anglo, 20% Hispanic, 15% African-American, 3% Asian, 2% Western heritage and 3% other.

Part of the shift can be attributed to the loss of 1,069 congregations—the vast majority of them overwhelmingly white—to a competing convention. But the other part of the trend is racial and ethnic increases, such as gains of 452 African-American and 318 Hispanic churches.

“The compund effect of starting new BGCT non-Anglo churches and losing about 1,000 Anglo churches to the other convention has helped create a very large, ethnically diverse and culturally rich state convention,” Price explained. “The need to continue this trend is evident in demographics. Anglo children and youth in Texas are now declining in number as Hispanic children and youth skyrocket. Baptist churches that once had many baptisms of persons under age 18 are now challeged to reach more Anglo adults as well as turning their attention to children and youth who are non-Anglo.”

Many Texas Baptists may study Price’s numbers with alarm. After all, many older churches and Anglo churches are stagnant or declining. This can be dispiriting, especially if it’s your church.

But we must embrace the reality of demographic shifts and, more importantly, embrace all our neighbors as people created in God’s image. Sure, we want all churches to grow, but we can’t be so concerned that they remain a particular kind of church as they grow. The more tightly we grip what once was, the more surely we strangle what will be.

Now is the time to make sure Texas Baptists look like Texas, not to mention the kingdom of God. And that means doing everything we can to help all our churches mirror their neighborhoods, even when those neighborhoods are very different from what they were not long ago.

The implications are myriad. We must:

• Welcome newcomers of all races and ethnicities into our churches and modify worship to meet the needs of changing communities, while honoring longtime members whose churches have changed before their eyes.

• Equip some churches to become truly multicultural and others to transition from one ethnicity to another.

• Make sure young people of all races and ethnicities get an education through college—and, in the case of ministers, seminary—to ensure trained leadership far into the future.

• Integrate new leadership through every sphere of church and denominational life.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks Blog.

If—as some observers claim—flames of spiritual awakening are fanning across the globe, then why have they seemingly leapt over the United States?

Titles of two great books provide a clue: At Ease in Zion by Rufus Spain and Churches in Cultural Captivity by John Lee Eighmy. These classic volumes cannot be summarized in just one paragraph. But it’s fair to say they address a vital question: Since the South was dominated by pious, church-going Baptists, why did it remain a regressive backwater, where human rights, justice and personal liberty stagnated for a century following the Civil War? The answer lay within the tight parameters by which provincial Baptists proscribed their faith. They measured themselves by narrow pieties—in those days, refraining from liquor, illicit sex and gambling—and failed to ponder the broader realm of moral rectitude. In fact, as far as justice and civil righteousness were concerned, they merely copied the selfish concerns of their surrounding culture.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Oh, we may be “right” on race now (although, were it not for black Baptists and liberal mainline Protestants, one could doubt racial attitudes would have changed a smidge). But the church in America—not merely Baptists—continues to be defined by what it is not instead of by what it is. So we decry the horrors of crime, the media’s glamorization of sex and violence, and the dangers of substance abuse, gay marriage and abortion.

Unfortunately, the church in America—particularly Baptists, mainliners and evangelicals—still mirrors its surrounding culture. We’re no less consumed by materialism than are our communities. Most of the time, we handle authority and power no better than the businesses, schools and governments nearby. In fact, we often handle power worse than other institutions. For example, our conflict-management processes typically look more like no-holds-barred political grudge matches than opportunities for Christians to practice redemption and restoration.

What’s more, as individual Christians, we’re doing no better than our churches. Except that we’re programmed to say the right things, and the most vocal and/or active among us protest gay marriage and abortion, we offer little evidence that what happens in our church buildings on Sunday morning makes any difference in our lives on Tuesday night or Thursday afternoon. We lust for power just like the next gal. We’re just as seduced by things as the next guy. Our marriages fail and we lie at about the same pace as everybody else. We have the same problems with our kids as our neighbors.

And we’re comfortable with it. If we weren’t, we’d do something about it. We’d change. We’re a church at ease in secular society; we’re captive to our culture.

This edition of the Standard contains a package of articles on spiritual awakening. I hope you’ll read it. I particularly resonate with an observation made by Jim Denison: Awakening doesn’t happen until Christians get desperate. We can spiritualize that idea, but it tracks basic human nature. People don’t change deep habits, addictions, customs or beliefs until they finally realize something’s wrong and they get desperate for difference.

Spiritual awakening is bypassing America because we’re comfortable in our consumeristic, class-driven culture. Nothing’s likely to change until we get fed up and desire change more than comfort and security. Many Christians have been fretting about the future, and mostly what they mention is the economy—their financial future. While no sane person would desire fiscal calamity, spiritual poverty is more serious than financial fragility. Likewise, while my theology doesn’t allow me to believe God causes an economic depression, God certainly can use one to achieve broader and deeper purposes.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks blog

America is growing more secular, but don’t start writing a eulogy for the church.

A new report produced by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago compares at least 17 studies that have examined religious trends in the United States during the past 40 years. The 346-page report acknowledges the national tilt toward secularism but notes the overall shifts in Americans’ attitudes and feelings toward religion are “quite varied.”

The surveys show declines in four religious factors over the past four decades:

Editor Marv Kox

• Identification with a religion. Citing “none” as a person’s religious preference was stable from 1972 to 1991, ranging from 5 percent to 7 percent of the population. But the “nones” more than doubled—to 16 percent—by 2006.

• Attendance at religious services. Around 36 percent to 37 percent of Americans claimed to attend church about weekly in the early 1970s. The size of that group dropped to as low as 30 percent by 2006. Meanwhile, survey respondents who said they never go to church climbed from 9 percent in 1972 to 22.5 percent in 2006.

• Religious attachment. People who said they were “strong” members of their faith included 40 percent of respondents in 1974-75, peaked at 45 percent in 1984 and declined to as low as 35 percent to 36 percent in both 2000 and 2006.

• Belief in God. The report notes the “basic level of belief in God is high” but points to a “moderate, but clear” decline over 50 years. Belief in God registered 95 percent of respondents in the 1940s, 99 percent in the ’50s, 97.5 percent in the ’60s, 96 percent in the ’80s, 95 percent to 93 percent in the ’90s, and 92 percent in this decade.

But the surveys show a couple of faith-based increases:

• Belief in an afterlife. The proportion of Americans who believed in life after death grew from 69.3 percent in 1973 to 73.0 percent in 2006, with the increases occurring by the end of the mid-’80s.

• Frequency of prayer. The practice of daily prayer fell from 54 percent of Americans in 1983 to 52 percent in 1989-90, but rose to 59 percent in 2004-06.

The surveys also turned up three other positive factors about Americans’ beliefs:

• Centrality of God. In both 1999 and 2005, polls showed about 75 percent of respondents said “having faith in God” was “very important” to them, contrasted with about 8 percent to 9 percent who said faith is “not very important” or “not important at all.”

• Contact with God. Americans’ sense of God’s presence on most days rose from 57 percent in 1998 to 62 percent in 2004.

• God’s closeness. In 1981, 80 percent of Americans said they felt extremely or somewhat close to God. By 2004, 17 percent said they were “as close as possible” to God, 36 percent were very close and 89.5 percent were at least somewhat close.

The National Opinion Research Center report calls the changes in Americans’ faith patterns “complex and nuanced.” It also notes the research results question belief in the “inevitability of secularization.” And it observes Americans have shifted toward a perspective in which they describe themselves as “spiritual, but not religious.”

The numbers can help us on a couple of levels.

First, they reveal trends. We can do a better job of developing and implementing our evangelistic and mission strategies when we study our culture.

But second, they reveal people. Beyond the statistics, they remind us our fellow Americans individually determine their religious beliefs. The true study of culture is the study of our friends and neighbors. And we can guide them to faith when we know them so well we understand them.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks blog.

Texas Baptists Committed’s board of directors must decide what to do with the organization, the most potent political force among Texas Baptists for the past quarter-century. The answer will have profound consequences for the Baptist General Convention of Texas.

When TBC launched about 20 years ago, a titanic battle for the soul, and future, of the Southern Baptist Convention was all but settled. A focused, well-organized force—they called themselves conservatives; others called them fundamentalists—had set out to take political control of the national convention and turn it hard to the right. By 1990, their victory was complete.

Within this context, an architect of that “takeover” or “resurgence” movement threatened to gain control of the BGCT, Baylor University and the Baptist Standard. Some Texans took this threat seriously. They created Texas Baptists Committed to prevent what happened nationally from occurring in our state.

Texas Baptists Committed succeeded by implementing two key political tactics. It conducted rallies to discuss the controversy that consumed the national convention and to warn it could take place in Texas. It also endorsed slates of BGCT presidents and vice presidents, who won victories every year. Their elections controlled the process for nominating board members of about 27 agencies and institutions affiliated with the state convention, plus the BGCT Executive Board. These steps rebuffed efforts to steer the BGCT in the direction of the national convention, an endeavor that succeeded in most other state conventions.

Along the way, Texas Baptists Committed collected its share of critics, who lambasted the organization for controlling the state convention’s political process. The criticism escalated about a decade ago, after churches that favored what had happened in the SBC and opposed the BGCT’s resistance pulled out and formed a competing convention. It echoed in recent years, amid claims that, since our state convention defeated fundamentalism, TBC’s guiding hand no longer was needed. Some critics seemed to forget the original threat and condemned TBC’s very existence.

Criticism aside, we owe a debt of gratitude to Texas Baptists Committed. Thanks to TBC, our state convention has not endured the upheaval and redirection that afflicted the national convention and many other states. Our state convention stands as a bastion for historic Baptist principles, such as soul competency, the priesthood of all believers, local church autonomy, the primacy of Jesus, and the separation of church and state. We have had Hispanic, African-American and female presidents. Thank God and TBC, our strong and vital institutions have neither fallen to fundamentalism nor forsaken our convention.

But now David Currie, TBC’s only executive director, has stepped down, and its board must decide what to do next. Some Texas Baptists want them to keep on plugging, while others would prefer they pull the plug. Neither is the correct answer.

Texas Baptists Committed must reinvent itself, as some observers hoped it would do a couple of years ago. The BGCT does not need TBC to endorse its officers or rally folks to attend meetings. But our convention and all freedom-loving Baptists need TBC to help them become all they can be. TBC—or something much like it—must become a first-rate educational organization. Baptists need to know our heritage. We need creative methods for instilling our principles in the lives of our people. And even though the heat of battle has chilled, we need wise and winsome warnings about the clear—if not imminently present—danger of fundamentalism. We also need advocacy for our mission and ministry, for our institutions, and for all the “least of these” who will not receive the gospel and experience wholeness if we do not reach them.

TBC should not die. But it must be reinvented.

–Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks blog here.

Once upon a time, I attended a church—and you’re probably familiar with the type—where longtime-and-savvy members intentionally planned weekend trips about this time of year. They knew October was “stewardship month. “ That, of course, meant four Sundays in a row when the pastor bombarded us with sermons about tithing. Most of the church-skippers, or at least a solid minority of them, already tithed and believed in tithing. They just didn’t want to hear about it every Sunday for a month.

Those fellow church members who carefully planned fall-foliage excursions to evade tithing sermons came to mind recently. Our New Voice Media partnership decided the cover package for this edition of the Standard and our partner newspapers would focus on stewardship. Oh, great. You probably don’t want to think about tithing and/or church-giving, either. And some of you will write letters arguing that tithing isn’t even appropriate for Christians.

Still, we all need to think about stewardship from time to time. Thinking about what stewardship means and how we plan our budgets—as families, as churches and as religious organizations—is good discipline, particularly during periods of economic difficulty.

So, since we’ve raised the issue, I’d like to channel our thinking to three aspects of stewardship:

• Money. “Show me your budget, and I’ll show you your priorities,” a wise seminary professor once told his students. “If you say you value something but don’t allocate your budget to make sure you get it done, then it’s not as important to you as you claim.”

He was correct, of course. Baptists are good at knowing what to say about our values, but sometimes we fall short of performance when we fail to put our money where our mouths are. If we say we believe in missions and ministry and evangelism but fail to support those vital tasks with our personal and church budgets, then we prove we don’t mean it. This has been glaringly clear the past few months, as the nation debates what to do about health care. Many Christians argue care for those whom Jesus called “the least of these” is “the church’s job.” But very few churches have mobilized their budgets to provide that kind of support for anyone in their community, much less the state and beyond. So, do we mean what we say? Do our budgets validate our beliefs?

• Natural resources. Sometimes, when we discuss environmental issues, we get sidetracked by the debate over global warming. But more and more, people of care and goodwill are setting that debate aside and focusing on preservation of natural resources. Call it a parental—or maybe a grandparental—impulse. We don’t want to be the generation that irreparably fouled the air and polluted the water.

So, we’re seeing a green revolution. It’s a civil action in an incivil society. And increasing numbers of churches and Christians are getting involved. It should be a testimony of our call to creation care.

• Time. At its root, how we spend our time is the stewardship of our lives. Time is our most nonrenewable resource. Spend it, and we never get it back.

So, as a matter of Christian stewardship, we must think about how we utilize the gift of the moments that aggregate into our lives. This requires balance, because not only should we work and work hard, we also need time for fellowship with family and friends, worship and ministry, sabbath relaxation and rest, and reflection upon all we hold important.

But we don’t have time to waste, because wasting time is wasting the life God gave us. As we recognize the holiness of being created in God’s image and the value of the life entrusted to us, we become prayerful, thoughtful and careful stewards of not only our years, but also our seconds.

What will our nation do about health care? That question dominates the American social and political landscape this autumn.

But another question hovers in the mists of that landscape. It’s almost as important and perhaps even more troubling: Will U.S. Christians be part of the health care problem, or will we contribute to the solution?

Judging by what we saw this hot, hazy summer, Christians probably will exacerbate the issue. Time after time, we watched as people simultaneously trumpeted their faith and blasted opponents who disagreed with them about how to ensure and insure health care. It wasn’t a pretty sound. And I fear for the damage done to the reputation of Jesus Christ by the vitriol spewed by his followers.

In an effort to dissipate heat and shine light, the Baptist Standard and our New Voice Media partners—Associated Baptist Press, Virginia’s Religious Herald and Missouri’s Word & Way—have prepared a package of articles on health care, which we’re introducing on page 1 of this paper. Our reporters and editors have worked hard to help you base your decision about possible solutions on facts and informed analysis of the status of health care in our country.

At the outset, let me say that I’m not advocating a specific solution. I think we should be able to build consensus around two parallel ideas: Solid health care should be available to all Americans. And something must be done to stem the rising costs of medical treatment, which not only crimp coverage, but also threaten to cripple the economy.

Personally, I’ve been fascinated by proposals that would eliminate for-profit insurance companies in favor of not-for-profit insurance organizations. I’ve also been intrigued by ideas that eliminate administrative costs of both health care and insurance coverage, emphasize preventive care, guarantee insurance portability and protect people from having their coverage summarily denied, particularly through no fault of their own. And I would love to live in a country where everyone has a right to a healthy and decent level of basic medical care and where all Americans can insure themselves to ensure they receive the most comprehensive and excellent health care in the world.

By now, steam may be streaming out your ears because you have projected one model or another of health care upon the ideas I’ve just shared. If that is the case, I have one plea for you: Calm down. The First Amendment guarantees free speech. The social construct of our country calls for a civil exchange of ideas—a concept that seems lost in 2009.

I hope and pray Christians and other people of faith would lead the way toward finding a solution to this vital issue by embracing three principles outlined in the sixth chapter of the Old Testament book of Micah:

• Act justly. If we truly believe all people are created in God’s image and are of equal worth, then justice demands that we guarantee access to adequate medical care, and that it not be offered only to those who possess special status. We have developed a consensus regarding the human right to food, clothing and shelter. Well, shelter should include at least a decent level of protection from disease and physical malady, as well as protection from the elements.

• Love mercy. This may be the hardest part. Mercy extends to those who are different, those we don’t like, and even—or especially—those we don’t think deserve it. Frankly, we can identify plenty of people who, we think, don’t deserve full medical care. But the prophet didn’t include an opt-out clause for mercy.

• Walk humbly with God. Lord, do we all need humility. Especially when we’re worried and scared. But humility with God—extended to others—can help us find a solution.

 
Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks blog here.

Could you skip a meal a month to alleviate life-threatening hunger? Or, if you don’t think you can stand missing a meal, would you match the cost of one dinner to provide food for someone who otherwise might not eat all day?

If Texas Baptists would take either of these tiny steps, we could walk a long way together toward Christlike ministry to the people Jesus called “the least” in our state, across our nation and around the world.

Hunger dwells very near each of us. More than 3.1 million Texans are food-insecure, meaning they don’t know where they will get the groceries or money to supply their next meal, according to the Center for Public Policy Priorities. Beyond that, almost 900,000 Texans suffer from outright hunger. They don’t receive enough nutrition to sustain healthy bodies.

Texas is home to the highest percentage of food-insecure and hungry families in the nation, the Texas Baptist Christian Life Commission reports. Texas’ poverty rate is 25 percent higher than the national average, and impoverished people in Texas comprise almost 10 percent of the national total.

Other Texas hunger statistics:

• Almost one of every six Texans lives in poverty.

• Ten of the nation’s 30 poorest counties are in Texas.

• One in 10 Texas children under age 12 is hungry.

• Almost one-third of Texas children are hungry or at risk of hunger.

• One in four Texans along the Rio Grande is poor.

• The vast majority of Texas’ hungry are from working families. More than 80 percent of poor families with children and almost 60 percent of poor families and individuals without children include at least one adult who works.

• Hunger and poverty are racial issues. African-Americans and Hispanics are three times as likely to live in poverty as are their Anglo neighbors.

Of course, hunger does not confine itself to Texas. More than 36 million Americans—10 percent of the entire population—live in households that experience hunger or food insecurity. Of those, 13 million are children. No matter how you feel about their parents, can you blame the children for their poverty and hunger?

Worldwide, the situation is even worse. More than 1.4 billion of Earth’s inhabitants live on less than $1.25 per day, according to Bread for the World. One of every five people on the planet subsists on less than $1 per day, the Christian Life Commission adds. Nearly half the population ekes out an existence on less than $2 per day.

Texas Baptists have determined to do something about hunger. As part of our Texas Hope 2010 endeavor to spread the gospel and alleviate suffering, we’re trying to raise $2 million through the Texas Baptist Offering for World Hunger, beginning this fall and running through the end of next year. Allocations will include $700,000 for worldwide hunger and developement ministries this year, $700,000 for those ministries next year, $250,000 to fight urban and rural poverty, $150,000 for Texas-Mexico border ministries, $100,000 for disaster relief and $100,000 for Christian Women’s and Christian Men’s Job Corps.

These are terrific, but the goal is too low. Texas Baptists actually can count 1,532,735 resident members. Suppose all of us would skip a not-chinchy-but-not-extravagant meal per month at $10 and contribute it to our world hunger offering. In one year, we could raise $183,928,200 to fight hunger. (For the faint of heart, halve the participants and the price of lunch; you’re still at $38,318,375.)

Just imagine what we could do to save and improve lives. We cannot comprehend the impact on time and eternity that would derive from saving many of their souls.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com .