(RNS)—Juneteenth is sacred to me. It is not merely a holiday. It is a homecoming of the spirit, a holy moment of truth-telling, a faithful act of remembrance.

My ancestors were enslaved in Galveston by Michel B. Menard, the city’s founder. They were members of First African Baptist Church, now known as Avenue L, founded in 1848.

They were people of faith who believed one day their freedom would come, just as it did for the children of Israel. And when that day finally arrived on June 19, 1865, they rejoiced.

This year, however, Juneteenth carries even more weight. Through DNA testing, I recently uncovered an uncomfortable truth. I learned my second great-grandmother, Celestine, was born of rape. Her mother, Sarah, was an enslaved woman.

Celestine’s father was Watt W.C. Seawell, a white man who was the grandson of Virginia Gov. John Tyler Sr. and the nephew of U.S. President John Tyler Jr.

Sarah was legally Seawell’s property. She had no voice, no choice. She could not give consent. Her body, like the bodies of too many enslaved Black women, was a battlefield in America’s original sin. This is not just my family’s story. It is America’s story.

Yet today, powerful forces are attempting to erase that story.

President Donald Trump recently signed an executive order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.” In it, he called for the removal of what he labeled “improper, divisive or anti-American ideology” from our museums, textbooks and public institutions.

He is seeking to eliminate what he calls “wokeness,” by which he means the uncomfortable truths about race, power and injustice in America.

The truth set free

But I say this: The very truth Trump wants to erase lives in my DNA. It is my inheritance, and it is my sacred responsibility to tell it.

The rape of my great-great-grandmother is not divisive. It is a historical fact.

The legacy of slavery, resistance, Black faith and the struggle for freedom is not anti-American. It is what made America.

Truth is not the enemy of patriotism. Silence is. That is why Juneteenth is more important than ever. It is a day not just of celebration, but also of reckoning, a day to proclaim liberty and also to proclaim truth.

In Leviticus 25:10, God’s word declares: “And ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof: it shall be a jubilee unto you.”

My ancestors longed for that Jubilee—for the day they could be free, return to their families and rejoice without chains. In Galveston, on June 19, 1865, that day finally came. Union Gen. Gordon Granger declared the enslaved were free. Undoubtedly, they shouted, wept and gathered in places like Reedy Chapel AME Church to thank the God who had not forgotten them.

But freedom was only the beginning. The newly emancipated had to reimagine their lives.

My ancestors changed their names. Other newly freed African Americans built schools, churches and communities. They rejected the myth of the “happy slave” and lifted their voices with conviction, as the old spiritual declares: “Before I’d be a slave, I’d be buried in my grave and go home to my Lord and be free.”

Tell the truth

Now, 160 years later, we are called to do the same. It is my prayer that Juneteenth 2025 will move us to tell the whole truth about slavery, not just the sanitized version.

I pray we will be compelled to protect truth in our schools, in our churches, in our museums and in our memories. And I pray we will have the courage to confront those who would rather comfort the powerful than confront the past.

Too often, America still lives in the reflection of slavery. I think of the Bowieville Plantation House in Upper Marlboro, Md. Its reflection shimmers in the still waters of the pond before it—pristine, undisturbed and unchanged. And that is what we too often see in this nation: the quiet preservation of the very systems that should have been dismantled long ago.

But reflections are not reality. And Juneteenth reminds us Jubilee is still possible. Freedom is still worth fighting for. And truth, no matter how painful, is still what sets us free.

Rev. Kip Bernard Banks Sr. is pastor of East Washington Heights Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Every Juneteenth, Americans—especially Texans—gather to remember a delayed but powerful declaration of freedom.

On June 19, 1865, Union General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston and issued General Order No. 3, proclaiming the enslaved people of Texas now were free.

That freedom already had been signed into law two and a half years earlier, but it meant nothing until it was enforced. Until that day, thousands of men, women and children remained in chains—many never living to see the promise fulfilled.

Today, Juneteenth is marked with family cookouts, worship services, parades, music and moments of sacred remembrance. While I’m not Black or Texan, I find myself drawn to the deep, spiritual truth embedded in that day.

I’m from Palestine—the place where our faith was born and took root. And yet, in the very soil of that sacred story, freedom still feels heartbreakingly far away.

Dividing walls

When I was a boy, summer meant running with my siblings and cousins beneath the olive trees at my aunt’s house outside Jerusalem. Those trees were old—older than all of us—planted by hands long gone.

We used to imagine angels swaying in the olive branches, convinced Jesus probably had sat under one, or touched it, or eaten its fruit. But that grove is no longer open to us.

A towering 25-foot cement wall now cuts through it like a scar. Water that once ran freely to my aunt’s garden has been diverted to serve illegal Israeli settlements—populated by new immigrants from Ukraine, the United States and elsewhere—perched on the hilltops above.

The jasmine she once tended now wilts. She sits quietly most afternoons, sipping Arabic coffee in the shade, whispering prayers over dry soil, hoping for a cloud that never comes.

Delaying checkpoints

My friend Sally, a nurse in Ramallah, has to pass through an Israeli military checkpoint every day just to get to work in Jerusalem. She was born there. Her family is buried there. But she needs a special Israeli permit—constantly reviewed and sometimes arbitrarily revoked—just to enter her own city.

On Christmas Eve, a baby arrived at her hospital with a dangerous fever. Sally was stuck at the checkpoint for six hours. A journey that should take less than 30 minutes stretched into agony. By the time she made it through, the baby had developed sepsis. He lived. But his parents—Christians like us—since have left the country. They couldn’t bear the fear anymore.

Stories like Sally’s aren’t rare. And they aren’t told to stir pity. They’re shared in the hope someone will listen and remember.

The Jesus I follow

When Jesus stood up in the synagogue and read the words of the prophet Isaiah—“The Spirit of the Lord … has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives”—he wasn’t speaking from a place of privilege or ease.

He knew what it meant to live under occupation. He saw how power was wielded and misused. He walked roads patrolled by armed soldiers. He sat with people taxed, humiliated and cast aside.

That Jesus—the one who called the poor blessed and set the oppressed free—that’s the Jesus I follow.

A similar weight

Juneteenth, for many, is a celebration of justice finally being carried out. But it’s also a sobering reminder of what happens when justice is denied—or even delayed. For two and a half years, freedom was law but not reality.

Imagine giving birth in slavery after freedom already had been declared. Imagine working someone else’s field while your liberty sat idle on paper.

We Palestinians carry a similar weight.

Since 1948, people like me—Christian, Samaritan, Muslim, atheist alike—have lived under military occupation. Our roads are broken up by checkpoints. Our farmland is taken or burned. Our homes are demolished or stolen. Our dignity is tested at every turn.

We carry ID cards that determine where we can go, whom we can marry, whether we can study, pray, work or receive medical care. Bethlehem is no longer just a Christmas hymn; it’s a city under surveillance.

One with the other

Some of you reading this may not be sure what to make of a “Palestinian Christian.” I get that. Come visit and see. I’ll take you to our Palestinian churches.

You’ll hear hymns and sermons in Arabic. You’ll see children lighting candles in ancient sanctuaries. You’ll taste our bread and wine, sit at our tables and realize we’re still here—living, worshiping and witnessing.

Supporting Israel doesn’t mean turning a blind eye to Palestinian suffering. It’s not betrayal to question policies and actions that strip people of dignity.

Loving the Jewish people—which I do—doesn’t mean silencing the cry of Palestinian mothers pleading for permits so their children can receive cancer treatment. Our lives are not threats. We’re not enemies. We’re neighbors who want to live in peace and feel safe as well.

Freedom for the captive

I’m not writing to accuse anyone. I write because I believe the gospel calls us to see each other as God sees us. Jesus didn’t ask to see permits before healing the sick. He didn’t build walls to keep the hurting out. He broke bread with strangers. He reached out to the marginalized. And he spoke truth to power—even when it cost him everything.

That’s what makes Juneteenth so sacred. It’s not just a historical milestone; it’s a theological one. It echoes through time: God does not forget the captive. And when people of faith act—even when it’s late—the chains fall.

So, this Juneteenth, as you lift your voices in worship and remember your ancestors’ long walk to freedom, remember also the people of Bethlehem, Ramallah, Jerusalem and Gaza. Remember the children born behind walls and under siege, the fathers praying for safety, the grandmothers watering dry soil with tears.

Christian solidarity

Let this be more than a holiday. Let it be a prayer. A reckoning. A commitment.

Pray for us. Tell our story. Invite a Palestinian Christian to speak at your church. Support ministries that bring healing and love to everyone—Israeli and Palestinian. Write your elected officials and ask them to uphold justice and dignity for all.

And when you sing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” next Christmas, don’t just picture a star and a manger. Think of a living town, full of real people, still longing to breathe free.

We’re still here. Still believing. Still holding on. And we wait for the day when we, too, will mark our own Juneteenth—a day when no one needs a permit to pray, when water flows where it’s needed, and when children run freely through olive groves their ancestors planted in hope.

Until that day comes, we ask only this: Remember us, love us and stand with us, as your forebears once stood for freedom.

Jack Nassar is a Palestinian Christian based in Ramallah, Palestine. He holds a Master of Arts degree in political communications from Goldsmiths, University of London, and brings professional expertise across multiple sectors, driving positive change. He can be reached at: jacknassar@aol.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

A quiet, introspective 14-year-old cousin in my family—we’ll call him Travis—suggested the biggest issue young men his age are facing are mental health challenges, and I’m inclined to agree with him. I was not certain of what challenges and circumstances Travis had to deal with on a daily basis, but I only could imagine.

At his age, I lived inside my head, often pondering concerns and issues that felt bigger than life. It often was a struggle to find adults who were open-hearted and open-minded about the invisible weight I was carrying through adolescence and adulthood.

For some of us, we’re still bearing the burden of the circumstances and challenges that pushed us into unhealthy thinking and unstoppable habits.

The Bible teaches us in Christ we are more than conquerors (Romans 8:37), we have victory (1 Corinthians 15:57), we are a child of God (Romans 8:16), and we are friends of Jesus Christ if we do what he commands (John 15:14).

And yet, many of us are wrestling daily with the feeling of being less than, ineffective, defeated and unworthy.

When we choose something or someone outside of the framework of our identity in Christ, things get unstable. We lose sight of who we are to God.

We may find ourselves attracted to people, places and things that deliver empty promises that sound like the answer we were searching for. We isolate ourselves. Sometimes, we even pose and put on a face that shows we have it together, praying nobody discovers our feelings of inadequacy and shame.

Blessing of other believers

I was fortunate to connect with a Christian counselor who made it her mission to point me to what it meant to have my identity rooted in Christ, using Scripture to affirm that truth. Between connections with family, friends, and brothers and sisters in Christ through church and groups, I realized I was not alone in this Christian journey.

My thought life was challenged because of other believers. I was affirmed in my identity in Christ and the unique gifts God gave me. And I was encouraged by others when I faced circumstances that threatened to bring back old, unhealthy beliefs about myself.

What if that shy, quirky kid heard over and over God loved us so much he sent his son to die for us, to pay for all of our sins past, present and future?

Or how about the teenager, striving to try and do everything right, only to fail on a daily basis, whether it was a thought that popped up or a word uttered. What a relief it would be to hear over and over they have been justified or made right by Christ’s blood (Romans 5:9), and when things got difficult to “stand firm in the faith” (1 Corinthians 16:14).

Pastoral encouragement

My pastor has been preaching a sermon series lately on being on fire for Jesus, and one of the points he made in the sermon was we must be courageous.

People need to hear the gospel, even in times and spaces both inconvenient and risky. Certainly, it doesn’t mean we walk around like self-righteous bullies, but instead tell the truth in love.

When I heard the latest message within the sermon series, it made me think about how much boldness and courage it takes to be the me God calls me to be, especially in Christ. In today’s society, that takes courage and bravery. It requires honesty, humility and transparency to admit you’re not perfect and you’re in need of a Savior, Jesus.

The world needs to see there are people in our world who are part of the daily struggle of thinking differently about what they think about, striving to learn to see themselves the way God sees them.

We can love people with the love of Jesus simply by being available to others through conversations, the kind where we listen to others who are going through difficult challenges, walking with them through the messiness of it all.

We can take steps to utilize our social media platforms for good rather than evil, for uplifting and building one another up rather than participating in time-wasting, unhelpful online engagement.

And for ourselves, we can take time to stop everything we’re doing, and consider why we believe what we believe, why we think what we think, and biblically evaluate if any or all of it is truly God’s will for our lives.

Kendall Lyons is a writer, minister and cartoonist who publishes on his Substack page Kendall’s Comics. He is also the illustrator of Your Identity in Christ: Finding Who You Are in Who He Is by David Sanchez. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

“Can you explain how your work contributes to evangelism?”

This is a question I often hear when I share about our work supporting international religious freedom. It reveals an assumption—that advocacy and evangelism are separate disciplines, and that the latter is the calling of the church. This is far from accurate.

I believe defending religious freedom is part of the mission of God.

Throughout Scripture and church history, the growth of the church often has been accompanied by persecution. When ministries bear fruit, they frequently attract opposition. Churches are shuttered, pastors arrested and believers harassed—all for faithfully living out the gospel.

The response to persecution is part of ministry, too. To sustain the fruit of evangelism, church leaders often are called to push back against discrimination and injustice. Advocacy becomes a form of stewardship—protecting what God is growing.

How 21Wilberforce works

When 21Wilberforce receives a call or a WhatsApp message from a pastor whose church was closed, or who was visited by the police, or who is at risk of an unjust criminal prosecution, we answer by helping the pastor plan how to respond.

We pray, plan and carry out a response together as partners. We ask Christian leaders of persecuted churches, “How is God calling you to respond to this persecution, and how can we come alongside you?”

This partnership is obedience to the prayer of Jesus in John 17:20–23 that the church may be one in love and truth.

The response to persecution takes many forms. It can include:

• Peacebuilding and strengthening interfaith relations.
• Documenting rights violations.
• Public testimony and awareness-raising.
• Engaging with the offending government.
• Legal counseling and court cases.
• Reporting the situation to the United Nations Human Rights Council in Geneva.
• International advocacy and diplomacy.

21Wilberforce collaborates with indigenous Christian leaders in the discernment process and helps them navigate the diverse range of approaches and tools for addressing persecution.

Effectiveness of local efforts

Often the most effective responses are led locally by national Christian alliances and denominations, pastors, lawyers, humanitarian workers and Christian advocates who know their context intimately.

At times, international advocacy in places like Washington, D.C., or Geneva is needed. But it always must align with the discernment of local church leaders.

In fact, we sometimes decide not to initiate a public campaign, because indigenous leaders believe attention from the West could escalate societal hostility and would play into a false narrative that Christianity is the West’s religion.

Enduring hardship

Not every pastor or church leader is called to public advocacy. Many quietly endure hardship while remaining deeply faithful to the work of ministry.

Christians in some countries today are living out a story like the one in Acts 8: “On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria. … Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went.”

We must pray for wisdom and humility as we support these leaders who navigate challenges we in the West never may understand fully.

My challenge to you

To my fellow Christians, especially those in the United States and other wealthy nations, I urge you: Move beyond mission silos. Don’t separate evangelism from pursuing justice and religious freedom. Instead, ask church leaders on the frontlines how God is calling them to respond—and how you might walk with them in unity, courage and purpose.

Wissam al-Saliby is president of 21Wilberforce, a Christian organization advocating for religious freedom and human rights. This article first appeared on the 21Wilberforce website and is republished by permission.

Questions of gender and identity are front and center these days. For many Christians, it’s a time of cultural tension. Rather than responding with silence or self-righteousness, what if the church led with compassion?

For those who are transgender or born intersex, the church too often has offered judgment instead of understanding. Yet, the gospel calls us to walk with those who are hurting, offering truth without abandoning love.

I invite the church to consider how we can support those navigating gender and embodiment with biblical conviction and Christlike compassion.

Understanding the terms

According to Mark Yarhouse, a Christian psychologist, transgender is an “umbrella term for the many ways in which people might experience and/or present and express (or live out) their gender identities differently from people whose sense of gender identity is congruent with their biological sex.”¹

Transgender refers to individuals whose gender identity does not align with their biological sex.

Intersex describes people born with physical sex characteristics—chromosomes, gonads or genitalia—that do not fit typical definitions of male or female. This includes more than one hundred medical conditions where a person is born with one or more atypical features in their sexual anatomy.²

Intersex traits, according to a review in the American Journal of Human Biology, are estimated to occur in about 1.7 percent of the population, roughly as common as red hair.³

These aren’t hypothetical debates. They are lived experiences.

People ask hard questions: “Who am I?” “What’s wrong with me?” “Where do I belong?”

Sadly, too many hear only rejection. But what if the church responded not with blame, but with empathy rooted in biblical understanding?

Creation: The gift of embodied life

Scripture begins with God’s good design. Genesis 1:27 declares, “So God created man in his own image … male and female he created them.”

Our sexed embodiment—male or female—is not incidental. As Preston Sprinkle writes in Embodied: “Our sex is not arbitrary. It’s part of how we reflect God’s image in the world.”⁴

However, we cannot understand fully this design without considering what comes next.

Fall: The distortion of the good

Romans 8 tells us creation was “subjected to futility” and now “groans” for redemption (vv. 20, 22).

The Fall fractured not just relationships and morality, but our bodies and identities. This brokenness can manifest as chromosomal differences, hormonal imbalances or deep psychological distress, which some experience as gender dysphoria.

Yarhouse proposes three lenses to understand gender dysphoria. The integrity lens emphasizes the male/female moral order. The disability lens views dysphoria as a result of the Fall. The diversity lens stresses identity and community.⁵

The disability lens may be the most pastorally useful. It allows us to say, “This isn’t how it should be”—without condemning the person suffering.

Andrew Bunt expresses a similar sentiment when he says: “In terms of theological explanation, those born intersex [or trans] are no different to those born blind or with a limb which is missing or not fully formed. These things are all biological experiences of the brokenness of creation.”⁶

We need to remember we live in a fallen world where even our bodies, including our brains, are not the way they’re supposed to be. In other words, feeling out of sync with one’s body is not always rebellion, as some might believe. It’s often a cry for help in a broken world.

This brokenness includes intersex conditions and struggles with gender dysphoria. These are not sins but signs of a fallen creation.

And while the Bible doesn’t use the term “intersex,” Jesus acknowledges those who were “born eunuchs” (Matthew 19:12)—a category many scholars believe includes what we now would call intersex individuals. Jesus doesn’t exclude them. He recognizes them and gives them dignity.

Sandra Glahn points out, “We need to stop saying every human is clearly either one or the other, male or female, because Jesus is the Truth, and to say so is not to tell the truth.”⁷ It’s a potent reminder to all of us that not every body tells a straightforward story—but each is deeply known and loved by God.

Redemption: Hope for the whole self

In Jesus, God took on a human body. The incarnation affirms the goodness of the body, even one marked by weakness and suffering. Those living with dysphoria or intersex conditions can find comfort in a Savior who understands bodily pain.

Yet, redemption in Christ does not mean every confusion is resolved in this life. Colossians 3:3 says, “Your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

Our primary identity is not in our gender, our struggles or even our clarity, but in belonging to Christ. As followers of Christ, we are called to live in that tension, not to resolve every question, but to follow Jesus in the midst of it.

Restoration: The hope of the resurrection

Our ultimate hope is not found in transitioning or in perfect self-understanding. It is in resurrection. Philippians 3:21 promises Jesus “will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body.”

One day, our embodied experience will reflect fully who we are in Christ, without distortion, without shame.

To those who live with these complexities, hear this: Your story is not unwanted. Your body is not a theological problem to be solved, but a life to be embraced in light of Christ’s redemption.

A new approach for the church

The church must move beyond suspicion and silence. We must hold conviction and compassion together. Here’s how:

• Affirm complexity. Not every experience fits neatly into binary boxes. Let people tell their story.

• Hold truth and tenderness. Uphold God’s design for male and female, but acknowledge the pain the Fall brings to some people’s experience of that design.

• Center identity in Christ. Neither biology nor feelings alone define us. Christ does.

• Create safe places for struggle. People wrestling with identity need community, not condemnation.

The church must be a place that holds out hope, not just rules. A people who witness to Christ by how we carry one another’s pain, not by how quickly we solve it.

As Sprinkle notes: “Christ followers shouldn’t mock the swelling number of people identifying as trans [or intersex]. If that number keeps rising, then so should the number of trans [or intersex] people gathering in our homes and around our tables.”⁸

A word to the intersex and transgender community

To those reading this who are transgender or intersex: I’m sorry for the ways the church has failed you. Your story matters. You are not an afterthought to God.

Psalm 139 declares you are fearfully and wonderfully made. That doesn’t mean your journey is easy or not affected by sin’s distortion of God’s good creation. But it does mean God knows every part of you, even those that confuse or ache, and still calls you beloved.

And one day, your body—your whole self—will be everything God intended it to be, radiant and restored. Until then, your identity is not in the categories you fit into or don’t fit into, but in the Savior who calls you by name.

Taylor Standridge is a Christian podcaster and producer who loves to help people understand who God is and how to live faithfully according to his goodness, grace and generosity. His writing has been featured in Peer Magazine, Christ and Pop Culture, RELEVANT Magazine and NextStep Disciple. He holds a Master of Biblical and Theological Studies from Dallas Theological Seminary. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

*******

Footnotes

1. Mark Yarhouse, Understanding Gender Dysphoria: Navigating Transgender Issues in a Changing Culture (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2015), 20-21.
2. Glahn, Sandra. 2016. “What Is Intersex and What Does the Bible Say about It?” Bible.org Blogs. 2016. https://blogs.bible.org/what-is-intersex-and-what-does-the-bible-say-about-it/.
3. Anne Fausto-Sterling, “The Five Sexes, Revisited,” The Sciences 40, no. 4 (2000): 18–23.
4. Sprinkle, Preston, Embodied: Transgender Identities, the Church & What the Bible Has to Say. (Colorado Springs, CO: David C. Cook, 2021), 184.
5. Yarhouse, Understanding Gender Dysphoria, 122.
6. Andrew Bunt, “The Binary and Intersex,” Think Theology, February 15, 2019,  https://thinktheology.co.uk/blog/article/the_binary_and_intersex.
7. Glahn, “What Is Intersex and What Does the Bible Say about It?”
8. Sprinkle, Embodied, 223.

I don’t live in Texas, but I’m a frequent reader of the Baptist Standard. I appreciate the efforts the Standard has made to cover a broad range of faith-oriented news beyond the scope of Texas, the Baptist orbit and even its own orthodox beliefs and affirmations.

I value the Standard because I find many of the other readily available Baptist-based options to be unevenly handed, tilted clearly in a direction that blends news and opinion in just about every posting.

In one popular outlet, almost anything reported on related to a more conservative or evangelical context generally is treated with derision. In another outlet on the other side of the Baptist aisle, you rarely will find any reporting that isn’t positive toward its constituency.

It is for this reason the Baptist community in North America needs the Standard to maintain its current practice and posture, and those who are skeptical of the Standard need to consider whether we, as conservatives, may have eaten the medicine of liberals by opting unflinchingly into a hermeneutic of suspicion.

Influence of postmodern thought

I cut my teeth in ministry among college students and young adults in the late 1990s and early 2000s. During that time, much attention was given to the rise of postmodern thought.

Largely advanced by liberals in academic circles, a hermeneutic of suspicion was introduced as a lever to undermine commonly held assumptions, accepted truths and beliefs that had stood the test of centuries.

Several decades later, I can see the medicine progressives largely introduced into our cultural reality has driven many Christian leaders away—sometimes far away—from the core of the Christian faith they had once held. In some ways, that was predictable, though nonetheless painful.

I’ve known far too many leaders I used to count as those walking the same orthodox path as me who have chosen another route.

Equal-opportunity influence

On the other hand, something surprising has come of the medicine of liberals that I did not expect or foresee. Now, conservatives often have taken the medicine of liberals and have eaten the hermeneutic of suspicion, often without any recognition they are playing into the very postmodern foil they likely would denigrate elsewhere.

It is now more common that our first assumption about any statement, article, sermon or other communication is that it is latent with a hint of something more deeply revealing—and disturbing—than what is there at face value. I get it, I really do.

I have witnessed many people make the progressive turn, and often it does show up in small snippets and bite-sized illustrations that reveal the direction they are heading.

For instance, I recall a very popular Baptist preacher some years ago lifting up panentheism in a sermon illustration as a way of thinking about God and the world. Now, they never explicitly endorsed panentheism, but the way they discussed the topic positively would have left many to believe such a view might be feasible within orthodox Christianity, if not preferable.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but over several years now I have come to see such an illustration was part of a larger pattern advocating for a more progressive Christian understanding. Like breadcrumbs for a mouse, they dropped those hints selectively along the way, so as not to be too obvious to those following them.

In defense of Baptist Standard

However, as a regular reader, I don’t believe the Baptist Standard has any such larger pattern and that those of us who fall within the more conservative side of the Christian house ought to give the team at the Standard the benefit of the doubt in a world where doubt is the default.

Let’s encourage them to report on news as news and to share opinion as opinion, just as they receive our opinions and publish some of them.

Chris Backert serves as senior director of the Ascent Movement attempting to advance a joyful, winsome orthodox witness to whole-life salvation through Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.

(RNS)—While our national discourse rightfully condemns Islamophobia and antisemitism, the systematic persecution of Christians around the world receives only a fraction of our collective outrage. This silence isn’t just a diplomatic oversight—it betrays the very principle that protects all faiths, including my own.

More than 365 million Christians, or 1-in-7 Christians globally, endure high levels of discrimination and violence, according to reporting by World Relief and Open Doors US.

As a commissioner with the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom, I’ve personally witnessed the anguish of Christians whose churches were burned in India, whose children were kidnapped in Pakistan, whose existence is criminalized under Taliban rule.

Their testimonies haunt me, not just as a human rights advocate, but as a person of faith who understands that religious freedom is indivisible.

When I knelt in prayer facing Mecca this morning, I did so freely and without fear. This simple act—a cornerstone of my faith as a Muslim American—is a freedom denied to millions of Christians around the world.

Persecution of Christians around the world

In North Korea, owning a Bible can be a death sentence.

In China, facial recognition cameras monitor officially sanctioned churches, while underground congregations face raids, demolitions and mass arrests. The Chinese Communist Party’s campaign to “sinicize” religion has torn crosses from church rooftops and banned religious education for minors.

In Pakistan, Christians like Asia Bibi have languished in prison over dubious blasphemy charges. Christian girls face the added horror of abduction, forced conversion and coerced marriage—often with impunity.

In Egypt, Coptic Christians—descendants of one of Christianity’s oldest communities—endure discriminatory laws and violent attacks.

In Afghanistan, since the Taliban’s return to power, the tiny Christian population, mostly converts from Islam, either has fled or gone underground. Many who sought refuge in the United States now face deportation back to potential imprisonment, torture or death under apostasy laws.

India and Nigeria

In two of America’s key allies, India and Nigeria, the plight of Christians is particularly alarming.

In India, rising Hindu nationalism fuels mob violence, church burnings and targeted harassment, often going unpunished. Anti-conversion laws criminalize peaceful religious activity, further suppressing the Christian community.

In Nigeria, Africa’s most populous country, Christians in the Middle Belt and northern regions live under constant threat from Boko Haram, Islamic State West Africa Province and armed Fulani militants. Churches are torched, pastors assassinated and entire communities erased, often while authorities turn a blind eye.

Christians killed in Nigeria make up nearly 90 percent of such deaths worldwide, according to 2023 Open Doors records.

Both India and Nigeria demonstrate how political extremism and religious intolerance, coupled with state indifference, can leave Christian minorities besieged.

Authoritarianism and religious nationalism

The global rise of authoritarianism and religious nationalism fuels intolerance. Silence becomes complicity, and ignoring the suffering of any faith invites the persecution of all. Just as we condemn the Uyghurs’ plight, we must defend Christians silenced and hunted for their beliefs.

I still remember the words of a Nigerian pastor whose church was bombed three times: “They can burn our buildings, but they cannot burn our faith.” His defiance reflects the courage I’ve seen from secret churches in Tehran to congregations rebuilding in Mosul.

Muslim standing with Christians

As a Muslim, I stand with persecuted Christians. We must transcend the divisions that plague our world. What threatens the cross today could endanger the crescent tomorrow. Those who silence church bells could one day silence the muezzin’s call to prayer.

History won’t just remember the persecutors; it will remember who looked away. I’ve met the victims. I’ve heard their stories, and I refuse to stay silent. Religious freedom requires our vigilance. Will we be bystanders to religious repression, or will we act decisively for those whose faith puts their lives at risk?

To every Christian targeted for their faith: We see you. We stand with you. We will fight for your right to worship, live and believe without fear—not someday, but now.

Asif Mahmood is a member of the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom. He practices pulmonology and internal medicine in Southern California, and resides in Pasadena. The views expressed in this commentary article are those of the author.

Russia is waging a war of annihilation against Ukraine using every force and means at its disposal. Among those tools are the religious communities of the aggressor state.

And this doesn’t refer only to Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill (Gundyaev), Muslim leader Talgat Tadzhuddin and Jewish representative Aaron Gurevich. Small but tightly organized evangelical churches in Russia quickly mobilized their resources to support the imperial war effort.

Evangelicals in service of Russia

Evangelical leaders are counting not only on the approval of the authorities, but also on certain trophies, having replaced the message of Christ with the commandments of the “Z-religion.” “Z” is the symbol of Russia’s so-called “Special Military Operation.”

Unlike the Russian Orthodox Church, which swiftly and centrally aligned its rhetoric and structures with the war machine, the evangelical churches were slower to adapt. Some leaders resisted; others left the country.

Yet three years into the full-scale invasion, Russian evangelicals have taken their place firmly in the ranks. Pastors publicly bless Putin and proclaim their support for the “Special Military Operation.”

Following the Buryat soldiers armed with rifles, the “missionaries” move in. On the ruins of Ukrainian houses of prayer, Russian “brothers” distribute humanitarian aid and sing praise songs.

Amid the rubble of Mariupol, Ukraine, Russian “missionary” Andrey Krysov recorded a video invitation to a missionary conference scheduled to take place in Yekaterinburg, Russia.

Krysov is listed as one of the speakers for the event. Alongside another “missiologist,” Pavel Puzanov, he will train Russian believers on how to carry out “missions on the liberated territories,” according to a since-deleted Telegram channel for the conference.

But the question of which God and which mission the Russian “Z-Christians” actually believe in won’t be raised at the Yekaterinburg conference—nor at any other conference, leadership summit or prayer breakfast across Russia.

Those who might ask such questions are imprisoned, exiled or eliminated. Those who remain are eager to snatch their slice of the cannibal’s feast.

Russian church leaders—Shatrov: bishop, deputy presiding bishop of the Russian Union of Evangelical Christians in the Northwestern Federal District; Dirinenko: bishop, deputy presiding bishop of the Russian Union of Evangelical Christians in the Central Federal District; Kolesnikov: chairman of the All-Union Fellowship of Evangelical Christians; and Karasyov: bishop of the All-Russian Fellowship of Evangelical Christians—proudly reported the growth of their congregations during a prayer breakfast in Washington, D.C., on Feb. 6, 2025: “Even under the difficult conditions of the Special Military Operation, our churches are multiplying,” according to some prayer breakfast participants.

And indeed, they are—just as they did after the occupations of Moldova, Georgia and Crimea.

Church growth strategy

The strategy is the same everywhere. First, security forces raid the homes and churches of local Christian leaders in occupied territories. Then come the bureaucrats, demanding the churches re-register under Russian law.

After them arrive emissaries from Russian Protestant church unions, offering a friendly deal: Join us, and you’ll gain official Russian registration. Those who refused were eliminated by the security services. Those who agreed now boost the statistics of Russian church growth.

The major instrument of these “mergers and acquisitions” is the Associated Russian Union of Christians of Evangelical Faith (ROSKhVE).

Early in the so-called “Special Military Operation,” ROSKhVE’s leader Sergey Ryakhovsky made the union’s stance crystal clear: “We are Russian citizens and patriots of our country.”

Speaking at a meeting of the Council of Religious Leaders of the Russian Federation, where the issue of the “Special Military Operation” in Ukraine was discussed, Ryakhovsky stated: “Today, we have no other way to defend the truth,” and added, “I am convinced that we are all moved by love.”

Russian evangelicals, of course, do not have the same influence as Moscow Orthodoxy, and compared to the “wolf” Kirill Gundyaev, their leaders appear more like “wolf cubs.” But the “wolf cubs” also want to profit from their support of the “Special Military Operation,” and therefore are ready to pray not only for Putin, but also to Putin.

During the years of war, the churches of the aggressor country have significantly “multiplied” thanks to the communities in the occupied territories.

Even their theology has shifted.

Change in theology

As early as 2014, right after the annexation of Crimea, some Russian Baptists—descendants of the unbreakable Soviet-era confessional Christians—issued a thoroughly servile appeal to Putin, thanking him for “defending and strengthening spiritual and moral values.”

Today, Russian churches have changed beyond recognition. They no longer resemble the historic Protestant witness that once dared to stand for the truth and speak it to power.

The language of the church—a reflection of its thinking—has quickly absorbed the vocabulary of the state. Phrases like “liberating military actions” and “liberated territories” now roll off the tongue without a second thought.

Sergey Kireyev, a ROSKhVE leader, proudly declared in a report titled Two Years of the SMO: The Contribution of Penza Protestants to Our Common Victory that “tremendous work has already been done—but even greater work lies ahead, both in Penza and in the new territories.”

Indeed, ROSKhVE and other Russian evangelicals still have a lot of work left to do. Their organizations are focused on the “newly liberated territories,” and their “missiologists” have devised a custom-built mission strategy—to settle and establish Ukrainian lands Russian troops have “cleansed.”

Persecution of Christians

The facts of Christian persecution for refusing to join the “Z-religion” are detailed in the report Faith Under Russian Terror.

According to Pastor Mykhailo Brytsyn, a co-author of the report: “On the Ukrainian territories occupied between 2022 and 2024, Russia orchestrated a sweeping religious genocide: hundreds of religious communities were destroyed; clergy members, after being arrested and interrogated, were brutally deported or forced to flee their homes; church buildings were seized by the occupation authorities and repurposed for their needs.

In Melitopol alone, more than 15 church buildings—most of them Protestant—were taken over. Not a single one was returned to the religious communities, even after they underwent the so-called “re-registration under Russian law.”

It is under these conditions that Russian church leaders launch their “missionary activity”—a grotesque operation that resembles destroying a beautiful park just to plant a few little trees.

And while all this unfolds, Russian church leaders travel freely around the world, convincing Western audiences Russia is a land of religious freedom, Christian values and vibrant church growth.

American preacher Rick Renner, who relocated to Russia, openly praises the regime and provides it with powerful media support. People believe Renner, Ryakhovsky, Shatrov and Dirinenko—because those who could have challenged them are rotting in prison, lying in graves, or branded as radicals and untouchables.

The example of the Third Reich

None of this is new to the history of Christianity. The “German Christians” of the Third Reich behaved similarly. Their ideologues clearly understood their role in the “final solution to the Jewish question”—just as today’s Russian “missiologists” understand their role in their “mission to the liberated territories.”

The leaders of the Reich Church deceived American Christians in much the same way the leaders of the “Z-Church” do now. And they were believed.

In 1936, Oswald Smith from the People’s Church in Toronto—a respected missionary with a spotless evangelical reputation—visited Germany and returned singing Hitler’s praises. His glowing report was based on conversations with fellow evangelicals. Germany, Smith claimed, had “awakened.”

“German believers say they are satisfied with Hitler.” And this sentiment was widespread: “Every true Christian is for Hitler.” See footnote.

Silenced opposition

Today, there are Russian Christians who do not share the euphoria of leaders like Ryakhovsky or Kireyev—but their voices are silenced and go unheard.

All that remains is the loud singing at conferences and worship services, echoing the haunting image Erwin Lutzer describes in Hitler’s Cross, where German believers kept singing as the trains passed by:

“A railroad track ran behind our small church and each Sunday morning we could hear the whistle in the distance and then the wheels coming over the tracks. We became disturbed when we heard the cries coming from the train as it passed by. We realized that it was carrying Jews like cattle in the cars!

“Week after week the whistle would blow. We dreaded to hear the sound of those wheels because we knew that we would hear the cries of the Jews en route to a death camp. Their screams tormented us.

“We knew the time the train was coming and when we heard the whistle blow we began singing hymns. By the time the train came past our church we were singing at the top of our voices. If we heard screams, we sang more loudly and soon we heard them no more.”

Just as before, the participants of the upcoming “missionary conference” in Yekaterinburg, Russia, will sing “even louder”—before heading off to workshops on how to carry out missions “on the liberated territories.”

Will there be a faithful remnant?

Christianity in today’s Russia has morphed into “Z-Christianity”—a religion of assimilation and absorption, of conquest wrapped in praise choruses.

Will there be found among the Russian church the “seven thousand who have not bowed the knee to Baal” (1 Kings 19:18)? Only the Lord knows. Only he knows whether new leaders might yet rise from among Russian evangelicals—leaders able to resist, to discern his will and to remain faithful.

As for the rest—for the “Z-Christians” who have traded their witness for propaganda, who pray to empire and sing to silence the sound of suffering—the prophetic words of Longfellow toll like a bell:

“Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small;
Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all.”

*******

Source of quotes on Christians in Hitler’s Germany: Oswald J. Smith, “My Visit to Germany,” The Defender 11 (September 1936): 15. David A. Rausch, A Legacy of Hatred (Chicago: Moody, 1984), 101.

*******

Denys Gorenkov is a minister of the New Life Evangelical Church in Kyiv, Ukraine, and a lecturer at the Military Chaplaincy Training Centre of the Military Institute of Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Our world is full of boys and men who never have experienced the joy of being a son. Though they were born here and are made in the image of God, the love of a father is nonexistent for far too many.

There are also those who have experienced having a father and it left them feeling empty, traumatized and lost.

For others, there are boys and men who have had fathers who were physically in the home, but emotionally and spiritually absent.

Some of us could only imagine what it feels like to be fatherless.

For me, being a son meant access. It meant being able to ask questions. It meant I could trust my dad with specific things. But it also meant if I made a mistake, I had a choice to come clean about it.

In early April, my dad Willie Lyons passed away, and such an event caused me to experience both deep grief and reflection. As I walked through the good and bad of all the memories, one of the things God spoke to me during this time was: “Learn how to be a son.”

Being a ‘good boy’

I spent a large amount of my early Christian years, even while growing up in the church, striving to be a “good boy,” thinking, “As long as I didn’t mess up or fail, God is happy with me.”

The goal was to be free and clear of life’s challenges I thought only resulted in just bad decisions. A few years of good, accurate Bible teaching and sound theology taught me no one was excused from the challenges and troubles of this world, especially those who are in Christ.

The issue with the “good boy” life is it holds to the idea that somehow good people will not endure trials and tribulations. When personal struggles and matters pertaining to my fallen nature came into play, the “good boy” motif failed to offer what only Jesus could.

When God told me I needed to “learn how to be a son,” I immediately knew what he meant. Rather than spending so much time looking for my earthly father to teach me certain things, I needed to lean even more into my heavenly Father to meet my past, present and future needs.

Boys and men carrying the question, “Who am I?” can rest their identity in Christ. One of the identifiers for guys in deep need of the acceptance and affirmation of their identity is being a son to God the Father.

Being God’s son

Those who believe in Christ receive the right to become children of God (John 1:12).

Sonship means we are “led by the Spirit of God” (Romans 8:14). Sonship also means we “received the Spirit of adoption as sons” (Romans 8:15). Galatians 4:6-7 shows us, because we are sons, God sent the spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba, Father.” The Aramaic term Abba means “Daddy” or “Papa.”

The benefits are life-changing and transformative for those who are sons in Christ. As a son, you have the same nature as the Father, because you also partake in his divine nature, whereas a servant does not (2 Peter 1:4). A son can obey out of love, not out of fear.

Being a son also meant I had to let go of this idea I could somehow be a “good boy” for God. And that’s great, because God offered me something far better—being justified (made right) in Jesus Christ. In Jesus, I’m good, which means no unnecessary masking as a “good boy” in a man’s body.

Sonship also means we will experience discipline. We are reminded not to regard the discipline we go through lightly, and not to grow weary when we are corrected. The Lord disciplines the one he loves (Hebrews 12:6-11). We are encouraged to endure discipline, and it is in his discipline of us that he’s treating us as sons.

Our need for a father

Perhaps this truth is what boys and men are needing to hear. People who experience life without a father may find discipline, self-control and order either to be too stifling or limiting. Others may find the idea of being disciplined and challenged by God to be cruel and unusual.

When we are faced with those thoughts, we can find within the word of God multiple Scriptures that point to God’s good, righteous, faithful, trustworthy character. Hebrews 12 further tells us God disciplines us for our good, so we may share in his holiness.

Also, God knows we would find those periods of discipline unpleasant, but it yields the peace of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

Being a son means we are receiving our identity from God the Father and through our relationship in Jesus Christ, not earning it through the world’s model of manhood with all its hustle culture, performance and all manner of unbiblical masculinity.

Kendall Lyons is a writer, minister and cartoonist who publishes on his Substack page Kendall’s Comics. He is also the illustrator of Your Identity in Christ: Finding Who You Are in Who He Is by David Sanchez. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

God allowed every experience I had as a boy becoming a man. It nearly left me bitter, broken and confused. But instead, the Lord used it to make me a better man and to share with others that they can experience the same.

The Netflix series “Adolescence” gave me a glimpse, not only of what boys today are going through, but what men are becoming as a result of their boyhood years. Today, boys and men are being guided by self-proclaimed “real men” on YouTube, social media, online message boards, and toxic masculinity cultures and subcultures antithetical to the life and teachings of Christ.

The series reminded me of what could have happened to me, as well as what I had to endure as a result of the same type of faulty masculinity within the culture.

My boyhood experience

Memories flooded back, reminding me of the challenging relationship with my earthly father and mother, who inadvertently sowed concern and doubts over my masculine development.

I was bullied often during my elementary and middle school years, and I’m a survivor of child sexual abuse. I even had the unfortunate experience of church members questioning my masculinity, because I simply believed in having character and integrity.

Growing up, I knew I was different. I struggled with fitting in with other boys, especially since I wasn’t into sports, and I didn’t embody much of the stereotypical behaviors of my peers.

When I was a kid, I was bullied a lot. The bullying consisted of a daily dose of verbal comments about the way I talked, walked and dressed.

In middle school, the verbal and physical bullying turned into something more heinous and calculated.

Boys as well as girls would tease some of the guys who were not considered “man enough,” daily insinuating the boys who were not displaying the behavior, bravado, misogyny and immaturity as other boys were not like the other guys. I was called “gay” or referred to as a “punk” for not fitting the stereotypical role of boyhood.

The piercing words that challenged my manhood left me wondering if I truly was capable of being the man God wanted me to be. Was I so different, so awkward, so unfit, that I couldn’t possibly fit in the world of men, much less other boys? Bitterness and brokenness began to set in.

It wouldn’t be until my adult years that I would learn I absolutely was like any other guy … understanding all of us are going through the same kind of suffering (1 Peter 5:9).

I’m thankful to God for even the small moments in my lifetime when he affirmed me, even in moments I strongly doubted my own growth into manhood.

Like many boys going through puberty, I always was happy with a girl or two who noticed me. One summer, at 11-years-old while on vacation in Colorado, a girl my age told me she thought my Texas accent was “cute.” I was the happiest kid alive.

Questioning ourselves

As an adolescent boy, concerns regarding girls, popularity and masculine identity come into question. As a preteen and teen, the question boys are asking is if they have what it takes. Like me, some ask if they simply are normal. Do they have “rizz,” if I were to speak in today’s slang.

But what happens when boys who feel rejected, powerless, bullied, incapable, isolated, purposeless and without direction grow up to become men? What happens when they grow up being raised to believe treating women as objects, looking down on underserved communities, and having unhealthy views of oneself is the standard?

What happens when boys and men start seeing Jesus as weak and the church as too feminine?

Many of these boys grow up with a view that says their very existence, their past struggles, their gender and their privilege should award them access to the front of the line of life. Some become world leaders. Some become teachers. And some become ministry leaders.

A world of boys and men are desperate to be loved, heard and affirmed. Though many run to false idols and versions of Jesus that affirm power and glory within themselves, the body of Christ has an opportunity to share the gospel to those within and outside the walls of the church.

Boys and men need other males to challenge them, to give them a chance to see an abundant life outside the isolated, dark, desolate and toxic life. Discipleship through relationships with godly men and a biblical understanding of who we are in Christ can make the difference for all boys and men.

Being discipled

My dad taught me the proper, medical things necessary as I navigated, like every boy, a changing body. But I needed more guidance than that. My dad did the best he could with what he had. But imagine how impactful it would have been to hear about the importance of self-control, discipline and a healthy, biblical view of my body and identity.

During college, when my parents separated and my father and I grew distant for a time, the Lord blessed me with one wise, Christian man after another to give me guidance.

One man taught me how to live holy. One man taught me how to be empathetic. One man taught me how to preach. One taught me what it meant to value and respect women.

They taught me how to “do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8).

It didn’t matter if I could throw a football, fix a car or if my dating status was single at the time. I was shown love and compassion by men who were mature in Christ, challenging me to walk in that same unity and maturity (Ephesians 4:13). Their practical wisdom, merged with biblical counsel, helped me to grow up during my 20s and 30s.

When boys and men are challenged in this way, there’s little to no room for prejudice, perversion, supremacy, misogyny and hatred of self or of others. Discipleship keeps us accountable and helps us tackle sin issues together.

As I grew in my faith, I gained the courage and conviction to share the gospel and engage in discipleship with other boys and men. God also is using the very thing I was bullied for—my love for art and creative expression—to reach souls for Christ.

Who I am in Christ

Anything outside of Christ used to define a man’s masculinity will come up short.

I learned I’m one of God’s sons in Christ. That also means we also will be disciplined as one of his sons, and even when it is painful for a time, God—who isn’t like our fathers on Earth—disciplines us so we may “share in his holiness” (Hebrews 12:10).

I’m also chosen (Ephesians 1:4). I may not have been chosen for any sports teams or a certain position at a company, but Christ chose me, and that’s the only validation I need.

Kendall Lyons is a writer, minister and cartoonist who publishes on his Substack page Kendall’s Comics. He is also the illustrator of Your Identity in Christ: Finding Who You Are in Who He Is by David Sanchez. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

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

Three principles of sowing the gospel

There are three principles from Scripture about sowing the gospel.

1. Accessibility

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

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

Pretty straightforward.

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

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

2. Generosity

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

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

We think, “What a waste!”

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

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

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

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

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

3. Transferability

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

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

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

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

Full circle

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

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

So, he runs. Generosity.

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

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

You see the logic?

Sowing the gospel amid opposition

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

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

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

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

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

The principles in play

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

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

Absurd!

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

After a Jesus moment, I moved my family downtown.

Accessibility: 1. Raphael: 0.

When you minister amid opposition, the task seems impossible.

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

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

Generosity: 1. Raphael: 0.

That move was really scary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he came! Who knew?

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

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

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

I said: “Why do you want to know?”

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

Transferability: 1. Raphael: 0.

Who’s the opposition?

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

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

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

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

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

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

An overview of opposing viewpoints

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

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

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

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

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

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

The name says it all

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The application of Scripture

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

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

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

Redemption ultimately will restore equality and flatten human hierarchy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shifting back toward unity and wholeness

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

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

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

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

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

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

Biblical complementarity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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