Christians are not called to a life of fame, worldly greatness and fortune. Jesus is calling us to live what we know is right, to step out and do what we say we believe, to live our faith.

One person who acts on his or her beliefs is worth more than 10,000 with beliefs they only chatter and babble about.

We should be people of integrity and action. What we say and what we do should be synonymous. There should be no difference between what we say we believe and how we live.

Saying one thing, doing another

Most people’s actual lives and beliefs are not in sync. That also goes for Christians.

Think of all the largest corporations. They have slogans, mottos and logos about making our world better, serving our nation and working today for a better tomorrow.

They say you—their customers—and your well-being, safety and happiness are their top priorities, while their stockholders and CEOs grab and pocket as much of your wealth as they possibly can.

Think of all the world’s governments that talk of peace and meet in the name of peace and cooperation, while they keep spying on one another and spending their countries more into debt, buying weapons of war instead of plowshares for peace.

And there are those strident voices for peace who simultaneously laud the strength of their armies and subsidize huge corporations devoted to war and death, and export those weapons to other “peace-loving” nations.

Think of the Christians who say God’s love and love for their fellow man is the cornerstone of their beliefs, while they criticize and wag their fingers at those with different beliefs, talk negatively about their neighbors, yell at the driver who cuts in, neglect the emotional needs of their children, and daily whiz by the homeless on their way to the mall.

Most everyone believes no one should die of starvation, live in abject poverty, or live without access to proper medical care and clean water.

It has been said extreme poverty and much sickness could be erased from the Earth overnight if we would turn our creative abilities from preparing for war to teaching life skills and raising the living standard of the poor of this Earth.

Yes, we proclaim, publish and broadcast our beliefs in peace, prosperity, liberty and justice for all. Yet, we continue on with war, poverty, needless sickness, injustice and bare-sustenance living standards for much of our world.

“Never again,” we say. “The war to end all wars,” the slogan. “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.”

Love means being in sync

Do you see? Do you see how rare it is for a person’s life to be in harmony and in sync with his or her professed beliefs?

Many call this being in harmony or in sync “integrity” or “alignment”—when what you say aligns with who you are and how you live. When those three notes of your life are played together, that chord will resonate and cause others to want the same harmony running through their lives.

But when what you believe, who you are and how you live are not played together as one chord, the result will be a discordant sound that may rattle the bones momentarily but never will bring anyone to life.

As Christians, the words and example of Jesus should reign supreme and be lived out daily through each of us. We are called to a life of compassionate service and to be a force for good in the communities in which we live.

We are called to love the homeless, the widow and the poor, to be a voice and advocate for those with no voice, to welcome into our circle the disenfranchised, and to love those whom others disdain.

We are called to feed the hungry, educate the unschooled, give shelter to those with none, and treat each person as the divine creation they are, knowing, “Therefore, but by the grace of God, go I.”

We are called to love those who don’t love us, even to love those who hate us, even when we feel they don’t deserve love.

There are those souls who do these things and have stayed true to the voice of their conscience, but they are the few, not the many.

As Christians, we should be known universally in every nook and cranny of this good Earth for our love, giving, support and compassion, regardless of nationality, religion, color or political affiliation.

We are called first to love. Anything and everything else is secondary (Matthew 22:37-41).

Robert Ritzenhein, after retiring from full-time missionary service, volunteers at Friends Shizuoka in Japan, organizing Christian programs for area rest homes, and is the yearly Santa at the city’s hospitals. This opinion article was inspired by his reading “Christians urged to answer biblical call to peacemaking” by Ken Camp. The views expressed are those of the author.

(RNS)—Is there a reason survivors of sexual abuse at Southern Baptist churches and institutions continue to show up for meetings of the nation’s largest Protestant denomination?

It is a good question, one I often ask myself. I choose to attend, even though it can be costly.

Only in the past few years have amazing donors, many we never will know, given to a fund established by Jules Woodson and continued by Pastor Keith Meyer to make sure we can afford to go to the annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention to advocate for ourselves and others, for change.

Why would any survivor go?

It is walking into what feels like a den of lions. What is supposed to be a loving, nurturing fellowship of believers is instead, for many of us, “a trauma-inducing machine,” as survivor Christa Brown has often stated.

Yet, for years, survivors and advocates have held rallies at the annual gatherings and attended the Executive Committee meetings, despite near constant pushback and even harassment.

History of harassment

In 2018, headlines proclaimed the #MeToo movement had come to the SBC and documented the work of Cheryl Summers in organizing the first “For Such a Time As This” rally and creating space for survivors to be heard.

But, just a year later, survivors were told they could not gather in front of the convention, were not welcome inside, were left in the extreme heat next to smelly dumpsters.

In 2020, amid nationwide racial justice protests and a national pandemic, the rally was a virtual one. And it felt then like maybe people were beginning to see a different side of things and waking up to the reality things were not as they seemed, that maybe more could be done.

While I missed those earlier rallies for personal reasons, I determined at this point I would not miss another.

In 2021, I went to my first convention in person, arriving alone and checking into a nearby Airbnb, hoping to lay low. At the convention, it was surreal and painful to see people who had been so awful to me online, walking around, speaking from stage, crossing paths.

But there was beauty, too. I met fellow survivors and advocates, people I’d only known online. I heard their stories of grooming and abuse. I found a small army of people who, to this day, are standing for what is right and good, who have risked any and all relationships or possible platforming within the SBC to stand for and alongside us.

Yet, the general convention believed us to be part of the “woke” agenda of “liberal justice” troublemakers. We were not seen as the wounded sheep Christ commanded his people to care for. No, we were the problem. The people were instructed to look away and, for the most part, they listened and looked away, but they looked down on us as well.

Promises of change

In 2022, I chose to go again, standing with other survivors who—despite the lack of movement toward any kind of meaningful reforms—wanted to give it another shot.

A loop of videos, made by Carolyn McCulley of Citygate Films, played in our booth telling our stories as people walked into the convention hall. We were now inside, and it felt like maybe people were beginning to pay attention, to listen to us. Many people told us they were following our work and voting “Yes” for reform.

Could it be change was coming from the grassroots?

The messengers were listening. People were attending breakout sessions regarding abuse in churches, learning how to become safer spaces. The sea of yellow cards voting for abuse reform literally caught our breath.

We were photographed at the moment it all seemed possible the people were voting past the entities and roadblocks. The real voices of the SBC were breaking through—the messengers, not the gatekeepers.

But even in that moment of seeming victory, the cost was so high.

Continued harassment

What we had to endure from those microphones, from some “pastors” and leaders, was beyond horrific. Over and over again, they insisted there aren’t that many survivors, sexual abuse is not a crisis, reforms will cost too much, all of this is a “sham,” and worse.

It was trauma inducing. And there are survivors who refuse to enter that room again. I really do not want ever to be there again.

And we all knew we still had an exceptionally long road ahead.

2023 felt like a step backward. The far-right was stoking another fire to distract from the urgency around abuse reforms, redirecting energy toward a debate around female pastors. This, they said, was the “real” crisis to be averted.

We knew what the strategy was, and it hit its mark. It was a heavy blow. But the messengers held firm on abuse reform and carrying it forward.

The far-right will try again this year with the Law Amendment, another public-relations move to keep everyone sidetracked, unfocused, unbalanced, unsure where the issues lie.

‘But I will be there’

But I will be there. Not because I think my being there makes a difference, but because I have made a commitment to myself and others to be there until it does not feel right.

I see their games, and their hope is we will give up. They are relying on age-old war tactics: Wear down your enemy, reduce their resources.

But survivors will show up, some for the first time. Like last year, I will warn them of how traumatizing it is. I do not encourage it, but I will stand by and with any who choose it as part of their stand. There is something to it, being present, to standing against it in person.

And there is a visual component for the messengers. When they see us, we no longer are just the enemy online they attempt to portray us as—the fascist, feminist, woke, liberal, problematic voices. They see we are human souls, real people, men and women abused as children, as teens, even as adults.

We are united whether present or online and we will not stop. We will find a way. We will stand with survivors as they come forward, with churches who want accountability. We will name names, we will keep track, we will continue to say, “Enough is enough.” We are an army of survivors, too many to count, so many still coming forward.

‘Still coming forward’

After the 2022 convention, a gentleman wrote to me. I read his story with such reverence, as we do when holding another’s pain.

He was 74 years old at the time and had watched the convention from afar that week. He had been following me for years, he said, and had cheered on my and other survivors’ pushback.

And now, for the first time, he had just told his family he had been abused by his pastor’s son when he was 12. He carried it in total silence for more than 60 years.

He said, “There are intrinsic costs I don’t see too many people talking about.”

He wished he had begun the healing 50 years or more before and wondered what his life and relationships would have looked like if he had. I think it is so beautiful and courageous he is doing it now.

Tiffany Thigpen is an SBC abuse survivor and advocate for reform within the SBC. The views expressed are those of the author. This opinion piece has been edited for length.

It is strange to write about the death of the Baby Boomers because I am one of them. Indeed, this article was a reminder of my own mortality.

While the implications of the death of this generation go far beyond church life, we who lead and love churches should prepare for this unavoidable reality. Here are seven brief reminders of which we are reasonably certain from a simple demographic perspective.

1. Pastors will do more funerals.

The Baby Boomer generation kids were primarily the children of the World War II veterans and their spouses. When the veterans returned from the battlefields, they came home with a sense of hope and optimism. That positive outlook led to a desire to bring children into this world. They created a population boom not seen before.

Between 1946 and 1964, 76 million Baby Boomers were born. Now, the demographic reality is those 76 million will die at a similar pace. Currently, 2.6 million Boomers are dying each year. That number will approach 4 million each year by 2037.

In other words, there presently are more than 7,000 Boomer funerals every day. In just 12 years, the number of funerals a day will be almost 11,000 (U. S. Census Bureau).

2. Attendance will decline.

While this forecast is not inevitable for every congregation, it will be a reality for many churches.

Baby Boomers overall are the most active church members. An astounding 71 percent attend church either weekly, twice a month, once a month or occasionally. To put it another way, only 28 percent of Baby Boomers say their church attendance is “seldom or never” (Pew Research).

We are losing our most faithful attendees every day.

3. Attendance frequency will decline.

Church Answers was at the forefront of demonstrating a decline in attendance frequency was the single most significant factor for overall attendance decline. Sam Rainer and I began writing about it more than a decade ago.

Baby Boomers not only are the most committed generation to church attendance, they attend with the most significant frequency. Nearly 4 out of 10 (38 percent) Baby Boomers attend church once a week (Pew Research). No other generation is close to that level of frequency.

4. Giving will decline.

Though the research is not always consistent in this area, overall, Baby Boomers account for about 40 percent of church giving (42 percent according to churchstewardshipnetwork.com). Again, this point is not inevitable for all congregations, but we do know a good portion of church giving will die with the Baby Boomers.

5. Churches will miss out on the greatest transfer of wealth in history.

Cumulatively, the Baby Boomers will leave a lot of money behind at their deaths. Much of it will go to their family members and other individual heirs. Another good portion of it will go to nonprofit organizations other than churches.

But local congregations largely are missing out on this wealth transfer for one simple reason: They are not asking their members to consider this legacy giving to their churches.

In the meantime, colleges, universities, parachurch ministries and other nonprofits do not hesitate to ask your church members for legacy giving.

How large is this wealth transfer? I have seen estimates range from $53 trillion (Cerulli Associates, New York Times) to $84 trillion (Kiplinger).

6. Innovation and change in churches will improve.

Our team has conducted hundreds of church consultations. I did my first consultation in 1988.

We have a plethora of anecdotal data and church member interviews where we see Baby Boomers often are the most resistant to change. Indeed, in some of the churches, the Baby Boomer members decided to close the church rather than infringe upon their personal preferences (Church Answers Research).

Many churches likely will have new opportunities to make needed changes for greater congregational health as the Baby Boomers fade from the scene.

7. Institutional loyalty will continue to wane at an accelerated pace.

Baby Boomers have been the most institutionally loyal generation since the 1970s to today (sciencedirect.com). That is good if the institution is healthy. But institutional loyalty for loyalty’s sake is not always good.

It is incumbent on church leaders to demonstrate why the local church is a place that can make a difference in this world for the glory of God. As the Boomers die, so will their default commitment to the local church.

*******

The Baby Boomer generation changed the culture, the economy, politics and churches due to their unprecedented numerical presence. Now, the Baby Boomers are dying at a rate of more than 7,000 a day, a rate that will continue to increase over the next several years.

Local churches will have many challenges as a result of the fading of the Baby Boomers. But, likewise, those same churches will have an abundance of opportunities. May God increase his power in those churches that are ready to make a difference in this changing world and culture.

Are frozen embryos in a fertility lab human lives?

When, in the process of development, is biological life recognized by the state as a person deserving of protection from harm by law?

Those questions have thrust Alabama again into the international spotlight. It’s the story you’ve seen and heard about frozen embryos destroyed in a Mobile fertility clinic and the Alabama Supreme Court’s ruling this was a wrongful death. The Court ruled, by Alabama law, those frozen embryos are human—“extra-uterine children.”

Many cheered the ruling, while others charged it jeopardizes the opportunity of infertile couples to have biological offspring.

This story has caused me to ponder. Obviously, I’m neither a physician nor a biologist nor an attorney. But as pastor of First Baptist Church in Huntsville, Ala., I feel a responsibility at least to raise questions about a story so important to both my state and my faith.

Why is IVF suddenly at the center of the abortion debate? When does life begin? Should a judge cite the Bible and the wrath of God when issuing a legal opinion?

Question 1

Why is IVF suddenly at the center of the abortion debate?

In vitro comes from Latin and literally means “in glass.” In vitro in this conversation refers to fertilization of the egg outside the female body and in an artificial environment, as in a fertility lab.

The Mayo Clinic describes IVF in the following words: “During in vitro fertilization, mature eggs are collected from ovaries and fertilized by sperm in a lab. Then a procedure is done to place one or more of the fertilized eggs, called embryos, in a uterus, which is where babies develop.”

Women, in an attempt to become pregnant, sometimes take drugs that stimulate the production of several eggs which are, in the IVF process, fertilized. Fertilized eggs are frozen and stored until such a time as the would-be-mother is ready for their implantation.

Unused embryos either are stored (frozen) indefinitely, discarded or donated for research or adoption. There are an estimated 600,000-plus such frozen embryos being stored in U.S. clinics today.

Here is the crux of the matter: Are these frozen, fertilized eggs human lives? The Alabama Supreme Court answered, “Yes, by Alabama law.” Specifically, the Court said, “(Alabama’s) Wrongful Death of a Minor Act applies to all unborn children, regardless of their location.”

Since then, legislation has been introduced in Montgomery that “would seek to prevent a fertilized egg from being recognized as a human life or an unborn child under state laws until it is implanted in a woman’s uterus.”

Significant debates are sure to follow.

Question 2

When does human life begin?

Conception occurs the moment a female egg is fertilized by a male sperm. Plainly put: “Conception (or fertilization) is when sperm and an egg join together.”

I believe the moment of conception is when human life begins. That seems clear to me, both biologically and theologically.

“So, Travis, why do you call No. 2 a question? Didn’t you just tell us you believe the moment the sperm and egg (ovum) unite, a human life begins? That sounds more like a statement than a question.”

I phrase it in the form of a question to acknowledge not all agree with me that true human life, complete with a soul, begins at conception. Many make a distinction between biological life (which begins at conception) and human life (some prefer “personhood”). They would contend human life—personhood—begins at some later stage of pre-natal development.

Many suggest human life begins with a detectable heartbeat or with brain-wave activity. Some assert the unborn becomes human when the baby is “viable,” or can live outside the womb. Others would say it is when the baby first moves inside the womb. Many contend a fetus develops a sense of consciousness at around 35 weeks, and that is the moment personhood begins.

The lack of consensus among those who want to pinpoint a moment at which the fetus takes on “personhood” is noteworthy. It seems to me the burden of proof is on those who believe human life begins at some time after conception. And who has the authority to make that judgment?

I believe the matter is so grave that any potential erring should be in favor of the assumption human life or personhood begins at conception. To me, it is rather audacious to gamble that in the mind of our Creator life begins at some subjective point in the development of the child.

An intriguing question I have come across is, “When did Jesus’ human life begin?” Was it not the point at which he was conceived by the Holy Spirit? If his human life began at the moment of the miraculous conception, then it seems to me all life begins at conception.

And yet my position is not without its complications, particularly in the case of IVF. I understand those who would say, “It is not human life outside the womb.” A number of pro-life people believe an embryo in a fertility lab is merely the potential for human life.

George Annas proposed the following hypothetical situation:

If a fire broke out in a fertility lab and there was only time to save a visiting two-month-old baby in a bassinet or a test tube rack containing seven embryos, most people would save the baby without hesitation. Yet carrying out the test tube rack instead could have saved seven people, if indeed each embryo were a person (Waters and Cole-Turner, eds. God and the Embryo, p. 82).

Annas’ hypothetical forces me to own up to the complexity of this matter.

I’m not the only one who is torn. Lots of folks are torn between their anti-abortion stance and their support of couples having IVF as an option.

It’s complicated.

Question 3

Should a judge authoritatively cite the Bible, Christian theologians and the wrath of God when issuing a legal opinion?

I appreciate Chief Justice Tom Parker’s devotion to the Christian faith, as well as his legal expertise. I read his concurring opinion regarding the case of the embryos, and I was surprised he would use so much ink in a legal document drawing authority from what I would call spiritual matters.

For several pages Parker cites verses from the Bible, quotes Christian theologians Van Mastricht, Aquinas, Augustine and Calvin, and, oddly to me, appeals to the Manhattan Declaration: A Call of Christian Conscience.

Parker raised some eyebrows with his own declaration: “(H)uman life cannot be wrongfully destroyed without incurring the wrath of a holy God, who views the destruction of His image as an affront to Himself” (Supreme Court of Alabama, SC-2022-0515, p.37)

Parker is not the simple-minded Bible thumper so many commentators have made him out to be. He grounds his comments solidly in the preamble to the Alabama Constitution, which states we all are endowed with life by our Creator.

And yet, it appears to me Parker confused the matter by bringing in so many of his personal religious beliefs. He also made lots of folks wonder how—and whether—his voluminous religious statements fit with the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which prohibits both the repression and the advancement of religion.

Early Baptists such as Isaac Backus and John Leland are given a lot of credit for the First Amendment, and that makes me proud to be a Baptist.

I said earlier I believe life begins at conception. And yet, I wonder if Chief Justice Parker’s injection of so many religious citations into his legal opinion was appropriate. You probably can tell I doubt it was.

In the words of George W. Truett, “Christ’s religion needs no prop of any kind from any worldly source, and to the degree that it is thus supported is a millstone hanged about its neck.”

Travis Collins is senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Huntsville, Ala. The views expressed are those of the author.

It was early on a Wednesday morning. There was a slight chill in the air. Not the kind of chill carried by fresh wind and fresh hope for a new day. No, this was the chill of cold metal ducts carrying cold air into cold rooms filled with bodies hoping to remain warm.

I stood underneath the over-bright lights designed to imitate daylight in a way that comes as close to sunlight as an Amazon Alexa does to the warmth of a conversation.

On this otherwise dreary Wednesday morning, amid the dull thrum of medical machinery, there sprung forth a raw energy, warmer than any blood-pumping heartbeat, and more akin to sunshine than any fluorescent light ever could dream of being.

I stood in the background as four pairs of hands, clasped in desperate hope and defiant courage, took center stage.

The life of a pastor is interesting. How is it I find myself sitting in on these holy moments?

A pastoral moment

Anne is a member of my church who was facing a major surgery to remove a tumor resting on her brain. Survival wasn’t an assumption. At a minimum, bad news from a closer look at the mass in her skull was anticipated.

I looked on as daughter gripped the hands of mother and father, who each gripped the hands of daughter and son, completing a circle of fear and faith, horror and hope. Would this be the last conversation they would share with their beloved? Would things ever be the same?

In the ministry of care, you will find yourself thrust into these moments—moments that feel intrusive to observe, much less participate in. And yet, in these moments, you will find yourself having a part to play.

Often it is in the most insecure times, when people are faced with their own mortality, that you will be expected to speak up, to have an answer. If this is a new space for you, you may find yourself wondering what to say when words feel like they never could be enough.

If that’s you, here’s the secret sauce: It’s not you who will make a difference. If that feels deflating, allow me to reframe. It’s not you who will make a difference, but there is someone in you who can.

Letting the Holy Spirit flow

When someone looks to you to be the harbinger of hope, there is nothing more natural than to want to have the answers, to be the help they’re looking for. But to present yourself as the solution to questions of eternity is to present yourself as a god. That is a recipe for disaster. That is a burden you can’t possibly bear and a burden you don’t have to bear.

Does that mean you should stay quiet? By no means. These moments of care are moments to speak, moments to rise up. But not in your own strength.

As a Christian woman or man, something goes with you into every space, every conversation. That something is the infinite love, contagious joy and unexplainable peace of God through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. These are moments to let the power of the Holy Spirit flow through you in three simple ways—presence, Scripture and prayer.

Presence

Perhaps the greatest thing you bring to the ministry of care is the power of presence, of simply showing up. Being in the room with someone who is suffering can have an incalculable impact without even saying a word.

The wisdom of Ecclesiastes 4:12 reflects on this: “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

There is something woven into the fabric of our being that demands community. How wonderful is the presence of one who carries the presence of the One.

Scripture

However, you obviously can’t sit there in silence forever. At some point, you have to open your mouth and speak. While it can be tempting to try and come up with a profound bit of wisdom or some overused pastoral axiom, you never can go wrong by keeping it simple.

One helpful way to look at pastoral care is to look at it as a ministry of reminder. As the Holy Spirit reminds us according to John 14:25-26, we serve as God’s mouthpiece by reminding those in our care of the simple and wonderful promises of Scripture.

Maybe it’s a beautiful Psalm for the suffering or one of the promises of Jesus, such as John 16:33: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Whatever you choose, when you give someone Scripture, you give them something that can speak to them long after you leave and can speak more deeply and appropriately than you ever could (Hebrews 4:12).

Prayer

Finally, in these holy moments of care, as obvious as it may sound, you always should pray. To pray is to reach out to the source of everything you’re looking for.

Rather than directing people to the hope you bring, to pray—and to encourage the suffering to pray—is to remind people of the unfathomably intimate connection they have in relationship with the trinitarian community of love—Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

As the medical team came in signaling the time had arrived, there was one thing left to do. All the caregiving I had done for this family culminated in one pinnacle moment.

I stepped forward to the bedside, eyes pooling with hot tears. The chain-link circle of hands opened and shifted from a circle of blood to a circle of a different sort of family.

Warmth passed from hand to hand as I slowly looked each person in the eyes, finally landing on Anne, and said: “God loves you more than you can possibly imagine. He has promised to always be with you. Let’s pray.”

Zachary Anderson serves as discipleship pastor of Covenant Methodist Church, in The Woodlands and is working toward a Master of Divinity at Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. The views expressed are those of the author.

(RNS)—That’s what I posted on X a few days ago, and it’s still going viral.

By the way, the “biblical womanhood” industry is also a scam. But the situation that prompted my post—the firing of Aaron Ivey from his position as worship pastor at a Texas church over indecent texts with men—was yet another case of predatory sexual behavior by a pastor selling the message of “biblical manhood.”

Note: I didn’t say “biblical manhood”—how that is defined is an open question, hence the quotation marks—is a scam. I said the industry around it is a scam.

By industry, I am referring to a definition like this one in the Cambridge Dictionary: “something that is produced or is available in large quantities and makes a lot of money.”

Defining ‘scam’

Of course, not everything that’s produced or available in large quantities and makes a lot of money is a scam. So, why would I say the particular industry around “biblical manhood”—as well as “biblical womanhood”—is a scam?

First, because, as noted above, what constitutes “biblical manhood/womanhood” is not only not clearly defined, but its definition is highly contested. The term originated, after all, in order to make a boundary, strike a mark and create a brand as a reactionary move amid the culture wars.

Furthermore, the tropes most commonly invoked within the discourse around “biblical manhood” distort—or even misrepresent—what the Bible teaches about virtue and character for men as well as women.

David wasn’t a warrior wearing armor. He was a shepherd with a slingshot guided by the Lord. Samson’s strength came not from bench presses and leg lifts, but from the Spirit of the Lord.

Paul’s admonition in 1 Corinthians 16:13 to “act like men” means in the original Greek to be courageous, and it applies equally to men and women, just as all of the qualities of Christlike character do.

Second, just as women’s fashion magazines exist by creating needs and desires women wouldn’t have otherwise and then offering the “solutions” to these manufactured needs, Christian publications also can operate on similar capitalistic and consumeristic principles.

Certain topics—those that get at our core identities and callings, in particular—are more prone to manipulation. This vulnerability derives from basic human nature, but when a spiritual or religious layer is added on top of those basic human needs, the potential for exploitation rises considerably.

Stereotypes

Stereotypes around manhood and womanhood are rooted in both nature and culture. Like all stereotypes, they emerge out of something truthful. But the calling of the Christian transcends culture. The church is the last place where cultural stereotypes should be upheld as biblical truth.

The worship leader who doesn’t like football shouldn’t feel out of place in the church because of that. The sales manager who is a godly husband, father and Bible teacher shouldn’t feel less manly because he doesn’t enjoy the outdoors. The IT guy who does most of the cooking is just as masculine as the one who doesn’t.

Steve Bezner, pastor of Houston Northwest Church, shared these examples with me in a recent conversation. He said once he saw machismo was being confused with spiritual maturity, it changed the way he taught and ministered to men in his congregation.

Rather than relying on the warrior as a metaphor for manhood, Bezner said, he extols the character of Christ in all its complexity and finds the men in his church doing better as a result.

Defining ‘industry’

Certainly, the line between offering a creative work or product and becoming an industry can be fine. Lessons and sermons on character and godliness in all our roles are good and necessary. I think in particular of someone teaching principles of manhood to prison inmates or the fatherless and, in doing so, changing lives in important ways.

Moreover, the people who speak, write and teach these things certainly are worthy of their pay. The fact something costs something doesn’t make it an industry.

But messages that gather into a storm of books, conferences, videos, courses, workbooks, workshops, websites, podcasts and statements are inarguably an industry. Furthermore, when the industry is fronted by celebrities and personalities—often the sock puppets of bigger names behind the curtain—the message risks being lost behind the messenger.

And when the people behind the industry don’t live up to or even believe the message themselves, then it’s a scam. Even if the message is true. Like all machines, industries can eat people alive. And such machines distort or destroy the gospel message itself.

The industry cycle

In my recent book The Evangelical Imagination, I devote an entire chapter to the notion of “improvement,” showing how this early modern concept contributed to the rise of the self-help movement in the 19th century and has spilled over into Christian thinking and practice today. Many of the publications centered on “biblical manhood” and “biblical womanhood” are just a continuation of this Victorian—and secular—movement.

Indeed, as Daniel Vaca shows in Evangelicals Incorporated: Books and the Business of Religion in America, over the course of the 20th century, the publishing industry created a “commercial religion”—one in which publishers and booksellers create consumers’ desires, along with the authors and celebrities constructed to fill those needs. What follows is a vicious cycle that cultivates the demand that perpetuates the supply.

Thus arose the “evangelical industrial complex,” a term coined by Skye Jethani in 2012. The phrase alludes to a similar one made famous by President Dwight Eisenhower in his 1961 speech warning of the unintended consequences of America’s unrestrained expansion of the military and its self-perpetuating arms industry: the military industrial complex.

Both the military industrial complex and the current-day evangelical version are driven by systemic economic forces, Jethani explains. In the case of the evangelical industrial complex, the driving economic power is the Christian publishing industry.

And the unintended consequence in this case is the endless proliferation of images of manhood—and womanhood—that ever expand an appetite they cannot satisfy, yet lead further and further away from the one and only One who can.

Karen Swallow Prior was research professor of English and Christianity and Culture at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary and is the author of several books. The views expressed are those of the author.

(RNS)—Not long ago, I stood in my front yard and did something I’d been procrastinating about for months.

I put up a yard sign.

It’s a simple sign—a heart, decorated with stars and stripes, sits on a background above five simple words: “Hate has no home here.” The message is repeated in five other languages—Urdu, Korean, Hebrew, Arabic and Spanish.

It’s a message so simple a child could understand it—in fact, the message on the sign was coined by an elementary school student from the north side of Chicago, where all those languages are spoken.

The signs, designed by a friend who is one of the student’s neighbors, went viral in 2017 during the protest over what became known as the “Muslim ban,” an executive order barring entry to immigrants from a number of countries, most with Muslim majorities.

The ban was seen as an attack on immigrants—and a sign of the greater polarization in the country, where we define ourselves more and more by who we hate.

We had a similar sign in front of our place in Tennessee, in part because my friend designed them. When we moved a few years ago, the sign got lost. It took me a while to order a new one. Then the new sign sat unopened for more than a year in its package on a shelf in my office.

Why?

Because I was concerned about living up to the words on the sign, which I have begun to read differently over the past few years.

To put up that sign meant claiming that hate has no home—not just in my neighborhood but in my own home. And in my own heart.

It’s one thing to reject hateful policies or actions. It is another thing to refrain altogether from hating the people behind those policies or actions—or to keep hate from driving my decisions, especially in a time when we Americans love to hate each other.

The function of hate

Hate makes so many things easier. No more trying to understand complex issues or attempting to see the world through someone else’s eyes or doing the hard work of understanding other people and their points of view.

Things become simple—I am good and the people I don’t like are evil. Anything I do that harms or dismisses or stands in the way of those evildoers is justified.

Let me be clear. There are trivial things I love to hate, like the New York Yankees. I was born and raised a Boston Red Sox fan. Or the fact I no longer can get a chocolate coconut donut at Dunkin’.

There are more serious things we should hate: cancer, or the harm done by sexual abuse in the church and church leaders’ sometimes callous disregard. We should hate intentional and systemic injustice.

But it is all too easy to go from hating things to hating people.

“Hate makes us feel righteous,” wrote social psychologists Kurt Gray and Will Blakey in an essay called “They Hate Me.”

Hate gives us license to feel good being cruel to others. This righteous cruelty drives much of our political discourse today.

There are whole industries of people who sow conflict and distrust for profit or, worse, for the dopamine hits that come with going viral on social media, where hate has become our favorite cash crop.

Wise or foolish?

One of the wisest parables I know comes not from the Bible or other book of wisdom, but from an episode of “Star Trek” called “The Day of the Dove,” which debuted in November 1968.

In this episode, the crew members of the Enterprise find themselves locked in a battle for survival against their fierce rivals, the Klingons. The Klingons believe the crew of the Enterprise attacked without warning. The crew members of the Enterprise thought they were betrayed while on a mission of mercy.

As the fight rages on, each side becomes more convinced of the righteousness of its cause—and begins to accuse its enemies of atrocities that never really happened.

It turns out they all are being deceived by an alien who feeds conflict and who likes nothing more than to feast on hatred, real or imagined. And when the two crews discover the deception—that they are being used—they lay down their weapons. In doing so, they banish the alien from their presence.

“Only a fool fights in a burning house,” one of the Klingons says, in explaining why he gave up hate in that moment.

I fear, in these present days, many of us are fools fighting in a burning house.

And I do not wish to be a fool anymore.

Bob Smietana is a national reporter for Religion News Service. The views expressed are those of the author.

(RNS)—A friend recently shared on Facebook an AI-generated image depicting four heart-warming scenes of Donald Trump and Joe Biden basking in one another’s company like two old grandpas.

In one, they are smiling side by side on a wooded hiking trail, an arm slung across the other’s shoulders. In another, they are luxuriating on the grass under a tree before a picnic spread.

Another shows them cooking together in a farmhouse kitchen laden with fruit, cake, flowers and copper pots. Yet another pictures them seated together in a cozy room in front of a table of yarn, pulling inextricably at the string, engrossed, rapt, wearing color-coordinated fuzzy sweaters.

It’s the sweaters that really get you. Sure, their broad smiles, the way they appear to be sharing an inside joke at the picnic, the aprons—it’s all surreal. But those sweaters are the kicker.

My friend’s post went viral. When I shared it, it did the same. To be sure, there’s plenty of fun to be had with these crazy AI inventions. Plenty of important questions about AI to be raised, too. And this post did all that. And more.

Caution about AI

First, my friend captioned the image with the coy disclaimer, “AI will fix everything.” This wink-and-nod was wise. Of course, AI won’t fix everything. It will likely make a lot of things worse, as was her point.

For one thing, as unbelievable as these images are for any number of reasons, there are certainly those out there who don’t recognize fake news as fake news. Such was the case before AI, but it’s only going to get harder now to distinguish between what is true and what is a deepfake.

This is an issue we must address intentionally in our communities, in our personal interactions and online, where these things spread the fastest.

The obvious fakeness of this meme (and my friend’s caption) gently but clearly warned that these fakes are going to be out there as we get deeper into the election season. Most will not be as benign as this one. It’s a fun way to offer the reminder that “seeing” is not necessarily believing these days.

I recently was interviewed by the folks at AI and Faith on some of these questions. Of all the questions AI raises, the religious ones are some of the most important and interesting. One of the greatest fears about AI is the possibility it will strip us or our faith communities of our humanity or cause us to trust one another less.

Surprises of AI

But this image of Trump and Biden as buddies demonstrates something else, something deeper and more poignant—about both AI and humanity.

Most responses I received to the image reflected the humor of it. Humor at its core arises when something deviates from what is normal or expected. If I slip on a banana peel, that’s funny because it’s not what’s supposed to happen.

Jokes that work well do so because the set-up leads to the unexpected in the form of a punchline. Comedy—low or high, gentle or satirical—operates on this principle of a gap between expected and unexpected.

These images of Trump and Biden as jolly old friends, dressed in basic clothing, doing normal things, smiling and laughing, offer the unexpected on multiple levels.

We seldom if ever see either of these men look this way or act this way. Biden perhaps does so more, which only adds to the layers of the unexpected: Seeing Biden act affectionately toward his son, as he has been famously depicted as doing, is one thing; toward his sworn political enemy is another.

On the other hand, there is no context whatsoever within our social imagination for seeing Trump in the way he is depicted in the image. So, the first unexpected thing the picture offers is this: these two particular men appearing this particular way, and with one another.

That leads to an unexpected thing. One of my friends commented that he found the picture strangely affecting. Others made similar observations. If we didn’t know who these two people were, we’d think this image was simply one more bad, sentimental example of unsophisticated AI art (there are clues—check out the hands and the yarn in that last scene) depicting a Hallmark-worthy scene of two old men passing their days in a lovely retirement home.

Promises of AI

But seeing these two particular men in these kinds of scenes taps into a sense of yearning some of us perhaps didn’t know ran so deep: We have missed normalcy these recent years past, and we desire normalcy so very much.

If only these leaders were this human. If only we all were. These images remind us it is—or once was—possible for political and ideological opponents to be kind, to take hikes, to play a game together, to wear soft, colorful Cliff Huxtable sweaters.

But no. Even Cliff Huxtable is fake. To drill home the point, the man who played him, Bill Cosby, has been convicted of sexual assault and accused of more such crimes by dozens of women.

Figuring out what is true and what is a lie has been an ongoing problem, one long before the development of AI, one that continues to plague us. But sometimes the fictions and the fakes serve to remind us of what we rightly desire—and rightly ought to pursue.

Karen Swallow Prior was research professor of English and Christianity and Culture at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary and is the author of several books. The views expressed are those of the author.

Franklin Graham recently expressed his reservations about the Church of England’s decision to conduct trial blessing services for same-sex couples.

On Nov. 21, 2023, Graham shared on his Facebook page that it was “a sad day for the Church of England,” basing his disagreement on his belief in the biblical definition of marriage.

However, this moral stance faces scrutiny when juxtaposed with his support for Israel’s actions, particularly in the ongoing Gaza war—a situation widely condemned as a form of genocide against the Palestinian people.

Graham’s support for Netanyahu

Graham’s recent meeting with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu during a tumultuous period in the region has come under intense scrutiny. Despite the extensive losses and destruction in Gaza, Graham portrayed Netanyahu—seen by many as a war criminal—as the one in need of prayers and support. This raises concerns about the selectivity of Graham’s compassion, especially given the severity of the situation.

A perusal of Graham’s Facebook page and the Samaritan’s Purse website, where Graham serves as president, reveals a substantial focus on Israel and a notable absence of coverage on Palestine. This not only impacts Graham’s Christian authenticity, but also questions the credibility of the organization as an objective evangelical Christian humanitarian aid group.

While not suggesting a shift to “hating” Israelis or halting aid, it is crucial to be objective, credible and honest when addressing the Palestinian people, their cause and their suffering.

Furthermore, Graham’s unwavering endorsement of Israel’s actions in the ongoing Gaza war, despite numerous allegations of human rights abuses, war crimes and genocide, contributes to the perception of inconsistency in his actions.

By aligning himself with the oppressor and praising Netanyahu without addressing the origin of the conflict and the suffering of the Palestinian people, Graham’s stance raises profound questions about the universality of his compassion and the moral compass he adheres to.

Betrayal of Palestinian Christians

“Sometimes you look and say, ‘Why?’ Or you look and say, ‘Lord, what can we do?’ The need is so great. But we serve a big God and he’s familiar with suffering. … So, we’re going to do what we can to help the people here in Israel. And do it in Jesus’ name,” Graham said during his recent visit to Israel.

His statement not only is a betrayal to all Palestinians and Arabs, but it also is deeply hurtful when viewed through the eyes of Palestinian and Arab Christians. This also disrespects the millions of Christians globally who sympathize with the Palestinian cause.

The irony deepens when contemplating the plight of Palestinian Christians, who have faced substantial losses during the ongoing war, encompassing killings, ethnic cleansings, destroyed homes, businesses, hospitals and churches.

Graham’s failure to acknowledge the suffering of these Christians and his apparent alignment with Netanyahu, the one accountable for their oppression, contradicts the principles of compassion and justice inherent in Christianity.

Significantly, Graham’s apparent disregard for the challenges faced by Palestinian Christians, who according to Christian doctrine do not fall under the category of enemies, raises concerns about the consistency of his genuine care and support for all individuals affected by the conflict.

The absence of advocacy for specific prayers for Palestinian Christians, especially those sharing the same church community, is unsettling and prompts inquiries into the depth of his compassion. Was there even any consideration for their emotions, pain and suffering?

Why not pray for all parties?

This prompts the question: If Graham genuinely believes in the efficacy of prayer and adheres to Jesus’ teachings, why not extend prayers to perceived enemies?

Underlining the necessity to pray for the well-being and safety of all parties involved, including Palestinian Christians and churches, could contribute to a more inclusive and compassionate narrative.

The apparent dichotomy of compassion displayed by Graham raises important questions about the consistency of his beliefs and actions. The selective focus on certain issues and the neglect of others, particularly regarding the suffering of the Palestinian people, challenges the integrity of individuals claiming to speak on behalf of God.

As Christians, it is essential to embody the teachings of Jesus with an unwavering moral stance that upholds the principles of compassion, justice and inclusivity.

Action beyond prayer

Christians possess both spiritual and political influence, granting them a pivotal role in advocating for enduring peace, equality, liberty and justice. Mere prayers are not enough. We must take bold and resolute action to prioritize the well-being of all parties involved.

This commitment necessitates unwavering condemnation of violence; the eradication of occupation, apartheid and discrimination; and the unwavering advocacy for equal rights and dignity, free from any form of prejudice.

Let us passionately engage in initiatives that propel lasting peace, steadfastly uphold human rights and ardently foster justice, leaving a tangible and significant impact on a more equitable and peaceful world. Let our actions embody the teachings of Christ.

By critically examining influential figures such as Graham, we can navigate the complexities of global conflicts with a clear moral compass rooted in Christian principles. Consistently adhering to these principles allows us to strive for a world where compassion, justice and inclusivity triumph over selective compassion and global hypocrisy.

As an Arabic proverb wisely suggests, the depth of our admonishment reflects the depth of our love for others.

Jack Nassar is a Christian in Ramallah, Palestine, who strives to foster positive change in the public, private, nonprofit and academic realms. The views expressed are those of the author.

UPDATE: As reported by the Associated Press on Jan. 11, an Ohio grand jury declined to return an indictment against Brittany Watts for “abuse of corpse” following her miscarriage that took place at home.

(RNS)—The justice system finds itself in a new world when it comes to abortion and the rights of women.

Last month in Texas, Kate Cox, pregnant with a nonviable fetus that threatened her future fertility, sued the government to gain a medical exception to the state’s near total ban on abortions. After the Texas Supreme Court barred her access to an abortion, she fled to obtain the medical procedure across state lines.

Yet the story that haunts me most is that of 33-year-old Black Ohio woman, Brittany Watts.

Watts miscarried at 21 weeks and five days of pregnancy into her home toilet. Earlier that week, a doctor had informed her that due to her preterm labor, the fetus would not survive. She miscarried at home. Then she flushed both the fetus and the afterbirth.

But she kept bleeding, even after keeping an appointment with her hairdresser. So, she went to an emergency room at a nearby Catholic hospital. That’s when a nurse called the police, suspecting she’d performed an illegal abortion.

Police charged Watts with “abuse of corpse,” a felony that could result in a year of prison time. An Ohio grand jury will decide her case this month.

Agony of miscarriage

Miscarriage is an agonizing experience even without a litigious system peering over your shoulder.

A pro-life Christian, a mother of two myself and a former birth doula, I believe God creates each baby that exists and God knows each zygote from before its conception.

Yet, I am also flummoxed about the lack of compassion and empathy shown by pro-life activists and policymakers toward women put in such precarious circumstances that affect both them and their offspring.

Whatever the circumstances, a late-term abortion due to a life-threatening pregnancy complication is a last resort, the worst possible option for every woman I know, whether pro-life or pro-choice. A woman must undergo all the suffering of pregnancy, labor and postpartum without the reward of a child to make the pain worth it. She then must grieve additionally the loss of her child.

The “choice” is agonizing: Will she choose her own life or her child’s? In the case of miscarriage, the loss of control exacerbates the situation. Often women feel as if their own bodies have betrayed them. The grief is profound, and the physical suffering is worse for it.

Watts’ case

At the time Watts miscarried, more than halfway through pregnancy, a fetus of that gestation would be big enough to induce real childbirth, with the hallmark lengthening contractions, hormones, impossible pain and exhaustion.

Watts’ health records show she experienced days of labor symptoms without pain medication. When she finally passed the baby, she must have felt relief, terror and grief.

But the case hinges on what happened after the miscarriage: Watts flushed. And then she continued with her day, going to a hair appointment … until she no longer could ignore the bleeding.

A nurse, who had encountered Watts in her previous hospital visits, asked what had happened, and Watts answered truthfully, apparently adding she had tried to dispose of the fetus herself—unsuccessfully. Police later discovered fetal remains lodged in her pipes.

The nurse assumed the worst: a live abortion. But even after a forensic pathologist’s autopsy determined the fetus had died before labor, having experienced no injury during or after labor, Watts was charged.

Watts’ lawyer, Traci Timko, insists though Watt’s actions sound callous, she had done what most women do when they miscarry at home. What else would you do with a miscarried fetus?

Since Watts’ intentions seem to be on trial, it’s worth noting she has said though her pregnancy was unintended and she hadn’t informed her family of it, she planned to keep her baby.

She also had made multiple trips to St. Joseph’s Hospital in Warren, Ohio, not to get an abortion, but to save her baby. Her miscarriage proceeded without the oversight of the medical practitioners only because, according to her lawyer, hospital staff had deemed her case too legally risky to take on.

For this, Watts faces criminal charges, even though Ohio law does not clearly define the “abuse of corpse” statute, and current laws do not define how a miscarrying person should dispose of remains.

Miscarriage and law

As Timko has pointed out: “Women miscarry into toilets every day. If the state of Ohio expects these women to fish those remains from the toilet and deliver them to a hospital, funeral home or crematorium, the laws need [to be] changed.”

What is law in Ohio is the right to abortion, a right Ohio citizens recently voted into their state constitution.

According to The Associated Press, studies show Black women seeking prenatal care at hospitals were 10 times more likely than white women to have their cases referred to the authorities.

The callousness of our legal system toward women like Brittany Watts is astonishing. What does our country gain by dragging these women into court? What precedent will Ohio set by putting Watts into prison? And how many other women will receive delayed treatment—or be denied treatment outright—while hospital administrators debate liability risks?

A Christian response

Whether we believe in the right to abortion or not, Christians, who are in the forefront of pushing for abortion bans, must allow for exceptions in situations of miscarriage, rape and sexual assault and life-threatening circumstances for both mother and fetus.

We must seek to understand the situations of those forced to make the most agonizing decisions of their lives. And we must extend empathy to the grieving. If we do not, we will find ourselves guilty of the judgment of Ezekiel 34:4: “You have not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. … You have ruled them harshly and brutally.”

Let those of us with power instead govern with mercy.

Liz Charlotte Grant was a certified birth doula and is an author and essayist. The views expressed are those of the author.

Amid a cascade of profound theological declarations in Romans 8, the Apostle Paul pauses to pose this probing question, “What shall we say then to these things?” (v. 31). This is the question being asked of me vis-a-vis Denny Burk’s recently posted Baptist Press op-ed.

My answer is, “Rather a lot.” But like the writer of Hebrews, I do not have the time or space to say all that might be said (Hebrews 11:32). So, allow me to say what I believe needs to be said in the limited space allotted to me.

Background to Burk’s op-ed

A charitable reading of Burk’s article reveals his desire—as a Southern Baptist Theological Seminary employee and president of the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood—to clarify for Southern Baptist Convention-insiders the considerable confusion that has arisen regarding the so-called “Law amendment” and its impact upon “friendly cooperation within the SBC.”

For those who do not participate in or follow SBC life, a word of explanation is in order. This past summer, messengers to the SBC annual meeting held in New Orleans voted by a wide majority—roughly 88 percent—to amend Article 3.1 of the convention’s constitution to include, and thereby stipulate, only “churches that affirm, appoint, or employ only men as any kind of pastor or elder as qualified by Scripture” may be adjudged to be in “friendly cooperation” with the SBC.

In June 2024, the SBC convention will gather in Indianapolis. They will vote again on this proposed amendment, which first was brought forward as a motion by Virginia pastor Mike Law—thus the “Law amendment”—at the annual meeting of Southern Baptists in Anaheim in 2022. Should a super-majority of messengers to the 2024 annual meeting also be found to favor the motion, then the constitution would be amended.

For his part, and in contrast with, for example, well-known North Carolina pastor and former SBC president J.D. Greear, Burk believes such an amendment is a natural and necessary outgrowth of what the Baptist Faith & Message 2000 affirms, to wit: “While both men and women are gifted for service in the church, the office of pastor/elder/overseer is limited to men as qualified by Scripture” (Article 6, “The Church”).

Summary of Burk’s op-ed

In his op-ed, Burk invites SBC-faithful not to take their eyes off the proverbial ball. The issue at hand, he insists, is not “whether women may serve in church staff positions.” Neither is it, he maintains, “whether women should teach mixed-gendered Sunday school classes.”

Burk is even willing to bracket off complementarianism, despite his dogged devotion to the same. To be sure, the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, over which he presides as president, is predicated upon complementarianism.

If such issues are not in view, then what are “the precise issues in dispute?” For Burk, when the smoke clears and the dust settles, the ongoing debate, which he hopes against hope soon will be resolved once and for all, revolves around “whether the Baptist Faith & Message [2000] allows for women to be pastors” and “whether the Baptist Faith & Message [2000] should be the basis for friendly cooperation within the SBC.”

As Burk sees it, the Baptist Faith & Message 2000, which he understands to be biblical, does not allow for churches to call women as pastors. Neither does he think it advisable, to say the least, for cooperating churches to do so.

Thus, according to Burk, churches who call women “pastors” and to serve as such, be they “senior” or “associate,” are in open defiance of the Baptist Faith & Message 2000, the convention’s “statement of faith,” and thus cannot be regarded in friendly cooperation with the SBC.

In what amounts to a get-out-and-vote-for-the-amendment stump speech, Burk is at pains to convince and convert those who are wavering or might be inclined to think there is room for compromise regarding women serving in pastoral roles other than “senior pastor.” To no one’s surprise, for him, there is no “middle way” here. Such is only a mirage, he maintains.

Because Burk is convinced a pastor is one and the same as an elder and overseer, only men may serve in such a capacity, and that the Baptist Faith & Message 2000 faithfully enshrines such biblical truth, he necessarily concludes there is no room in the SBC for churches who think and practice otherwise.

The deleterious impact of such renegade SBC churches—on SBC mission agencies and seminaries—who fail to walk in lock-step uniformity with every jot and tittle of the Baptist Faith & Message 2000, not least with respect to who may and may not be called “pastor,” should not be underestimated, he warns.

What is a stake? Rather a lot, Burk believes. In his way of seeing things, any SBC church who calls a woman to be a pastor of any type is in clear defiance of the measure of all things pertaining to faith and practice for SBC churches—the Baptist Faith & Message 2000.

Thus, they should be regarded as non-cooperative and, by way of logical extension, excluded from the SBC—such as Saddleback Church and Fern Creek Baptist Church were at the New Orleans convention. One can be forgiven for wondering what has become of the historic Baptist principle: “No creed but the Bible, no Lord but Christ.”

The convictions and commitments that lead Burk—and those of his tribe—to such conclusions are crystal clear. The Baptist Faith & Message 2000—as they would interpret it—is to be perceived and employed as the unassailable authority for doctrinal and ethical accountability in SBC life.

Relatedly, there is no room whatsoever for variation or difference on how best to regard and to refer to women engaged in ministry. They are not to be pastors or called such, because the Bible and Baptist Faith & Message 2000, as they read them, tell them so. One cannot help but wonder if the Baptist Faith & Message 2000 has become the “norming norm” for the SBC.

Five points for Texas Baptist churches to consider

As a life-long Texas Baptist writing primarily to Texas Baptists, some of whom might also regard themselves to be Southern Baptists, I would be remiss if I failed to make at least the following points in response to Burk’s earnest plea to SBC loyalists:

1. On the Texas Baptists website, one finds the following regarding beliefs: “The 1963 Baptist Faith and Messagehas been adopted by messengers of the Baptist General Convention of Texas annual meeting. Some BGCT churches use other confessions of faith, including the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message. Neither confession of faith is a requirement for inclusion in the BGCT.”

If strict adherence to neither the 1963 nor 2000 Baptist Faith & Message is a prerequisite for involvement in BGCT life, the same cannot be affirmed by Burk regarding SBC life, where the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message is meant to reign supreme.

That being said—and this should not be swept under the denominational rug—there is only one Baptist Faith & Message BGCT messengers have approved formally, namely, the 1963 Baptist Faith & Message.

2. Given the priority of the 1963 Baptist Faith & Message among Texas Baptists and the latitude allowed cooperating churches within BGCT life with respect to confessions of faith, how Southern Baptists in general and Burk in particular might perceive or respond to a given BGCT congregation need not be a cause of anxiety, unless, of course, a given BGCT congregation also wants to be regarded in “friendly cooperation” with the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message-directed SBC.

Were the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message to be used in the fashion Burk envisions, all BGCT churches who are not also 2000 Baptist Faith & Message churches—both in principle and practice—no longer should be considered SBC churches in friendly cooperation.

3. Being misguided by the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message, Burk—and not a few others in SBC circles—unnecessarily conclude the terms and titles “pastors,” “elders” and “overseers” are more than less one and the same. Meanwhile, a careful study of the New Testament evidence, which unfortunately is not possible here, reveals the terms are not used interchangeably.

Whereas the term “elder” (presbyteros) occurs regularly within the New Testament with reference to a leadership role and/or office within churches (see, for example, Acts 11:30; 14:23; 15:2, 4, 6, 22, 23; 16:4; 20:17; 21:18; 1 Timothy 4:14; 5:17, 19; Titus 1:5; James 5:14; 1 Peter 5:1, 5; 2 John 1; 3 John 1), the word “overseer” or “bishop” is used sparingly (Philippians 1:1; 1 Timothy 3:1, 2; Titus 1:7), and the term translated “pastor” (poimenas), which is paired with “teacher” (didaskalos), appears but once in the entire New Testament witness (Ephesians 4:11).

Furthermore, there are any number of New Testament texts that unequivocally refer to women actively engaged and integrally involved in gospel work and witness and in ecclesial leadership and service.

While neither those women nor their male counterparts are explicitly given the title “pastor” within the New Testament, terms such as “deacon” (diakonos), “co-worker” (synergos), “sister” (adelphe) and perhaps even “apostle” (apostolos) are employed to refer to such women as Phoebe, Prisca, Apphia, Junia and their numerous female pastoral counterparts.

Truth be told, pastoral/ministerial roles and responsibilities for women and men in the first century church do not map easily or perfectly onto the 21st century church, and vice versa. Thus, careful exegesis, hermeneutical humility and faithful discernment are required.

4. Regarding women pastors, be they “senior pastors,” “associate pastors” or other types of “pastors” for that matter, thankfully they exist in considerable numbers in Texas Baptist congregations—so, too, in Baptist General Association of Virginia churches and in other Baptist fellowships the world over.

It is my hope and belief women pastors called by God and BGCT churches will continue and increase in the coming days, even if outside of the SBC, which may well be the case. For my part, I will continue to work toward the good, gospel end of training and encouraging women grasped and gifted by God for pastoral ministry.

5. Finally, now would be an opportune time for any number of BGCT churches to discuss and to discern whether they also are SBC churches, and if not, to begin to decide where they might want to invest the financial and human resources they have been sending to the SBC through the BGCT year after year.

Furthermore, for those BGCT churches who have women pastors on ministerial staff, it might well be wise to be proactive. If the perspective of Denny Burk wins the day, then those Texas Baptist churches will sooner than later be on the outside of the SBC looking in because of their “defiance” of the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message, to which churches in “friendly cooperation” owe unalloyed allegiance, especially when it comes time to determine who may and may not be called “pastor.”

Whatever happened to local church autonomy and authority to determine such a matter, one wonders?

Todd Still is dean and professor of Christian Scriptures at Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. The views expressed are those of the author.