I grew up in a small town in East Texas and lived in Texas until recently.

As a young student, I was in a dual-language program in which I was placed in class with Hispanic English-as-a-Second-Language students. When they would learn English, the dual-language students would learn Spanish. I had more Hispanic friends as a kid than I had white or Black friends.

Before and after graduating from seminary in 2024, I had a hard time getting a job in Texas. My theological positioning on issues like women in ministry and other issues made it near impossible for me to get a job. After a year and a half of applications, a small church in North Carolina called me to be an associate pastor.

Not living in Texas has been a struggle, but what has been more of a struggle has been watching what Texas has become since leaving.

As a pastor in North Carolina, I have watched congregants lose jobs to government budget cuts, and health care and disaster relief put on hold for people in desperate need due to politicians hoping to score points off the suffering of others.

Those were painful things, yet it has been even more painful to hear of and watch friends I grew up with be separated from their families due to deportation or not knowing if they will be allowed to remain in the country, to watch them live in fear while waiting for their lives to change dramatically.

Pastors are meant to be community leaders, and it has been angering to watch my home be changed without any ability to do anything about it. I hope this is an opportunity to make my voice heard, even if I no longer live in Texas.

Immigration proof texts

The Bible has a lot to say about immigration. This debate has been played out over and over again.

Proponents of immigration and the rights of those who have fought to reside in this country have their proof texts—Leviticus 19:33-34; Deuteronomy 10:18-19; Psalm 146:9; the entire book of Ruth; Matthew 25:31-46; the story of the Good Samaritan and more.

Opponents of immigration who support Texas Gov. Greg Abbott’s policies of dehumanization and violence against immigrants have their proof texts as well—Nehemiah, for example.

My goal is not to settle this debate here, because that’s not going to happen. I want to offer a different take. This, to me, is not a political issue or an immigration issue. That debate is insufficient. This is an imago Dei and ecclesiology issue.

Immigrants in God’s image

In a 2024 PRRI American Values survey, “white evangelical Protestants (60 percent) are the only religious group among whom a majority agree that immigrants entering the country illegally are poisoning the blood of the country.”

“Poisoning the blood” is a phrase lifted directly from Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf.

According to PRRI’s survey results, 60 percent of white evangelical Protestants, 46 percent of white Catholics and 36 percent of white nonevangelical Protestants think immigrants are not made in the image of God, based solely on which side of an imaginary border a person was born. This is a major issue.

The Bible claims God made humankind—all humankind—in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27). One of the primary principles Nazi Germany sought to destroy in the German church was the imago Dei.

Once we lose the belief the human being next to us is made in God’s image, it becomes significantly easier to commit violence against one another.

The solution to the onslaught of political violence and hatred of immigrants is preaching and teaching the imago Dei. Our churches need to recapture being human is a value in and of itself, based solely on the love of God and the imago Dei, before we ever begin to discuss the “how” of immigration.

An immigrating church

Secondly, this is a church issue. Baptist life in particular has become so isolated from the global church, we forget many of those who travel to our country are brothers and sisters in Christ and often are members of churches in their country of origin.

As the American church dwindles in attendance, it seems impractical, at the very least, to desire the expulsion of our own church membership. However, churches have become more and more “purified” and isolated within their own echo chambers through social media.

As pastors, our job is to help our people grow. The best way we can offer growth is by exposing congregants to new ideas and people and challenging them to get out of their comfort zone.

That could mean joint worship services with churches outside of our denomination or ethnic group. It could mean learning ancient traditions that may not exist in our modern worship styles. Christ does not call us to sit in our churches mumbling about others outside of it.

I am a new pastor, but the challenges we are facing aren’t new. These issues have happened time and time again, and our churches have failed time and time again. It can happen in the United States if pastors do not do the work to help their congregants appreciate the value of God’s children. It’s time for us to do and be better.

True Head is the associate pastor of First Baptist Church in West Jefferson, N.C. He is a graduate of Baylor University and Baylor’s Truett Theological Seminary, and is native to Athens, Texas. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

You are a witness. What is your testimony?

I am a witness. What is my testimony?

…

Does the question give you cold sweats?

Depending on the day, the time, the situation, it at least gives me pause.

Maybe it’s that we’re unsure of what our witness should be or is or will be. Or we don’t want to hear how others perceive our witness. Actually, that’s what I’m really worried about—but only for one reason. See, my hope is people see Jesus in me and that the Jesus they see is true to who Jesus is and draws people to him.

I know how far off the mark I am, and that’s why the question gives me pause.

This has been imprinted on my mind since my visit yesterday to a memorial museum just off the National Mall in Washington, D.C.

As I descended the stairs to the lower level of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, I couldn’t help but see a seemingly simple statement on the expansive wall in front of me.

Just four words.

“You are my witnesses.”

And the reference—Isaiah 43:10.

To witness is to remember

Given the context, it is clear these words are intended to describe those who survived the Holocaust. But stated as such, these four words also make a claim on all who see them … in that place. And, indeed, the word “Remember” is repeated everywhere.

The hope is, all who see—witness—the museum will in turn give witness to the reality of the Holocaust.

So it doesn’t happen again. To anybody.

I support that hope.

I wanted to read the broader context of those four words. So, when I had the opportunity, I looked up Isaiah 43 on a Bible app. While I know you can look it up, too, I include it here, because it’s just that important.

Take the time to read—really read—the following words from Isaiah 43.

The witness of Isaiah 43:1-13

But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, Jacob,
he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.”

Remember where I was when I saw those four words and their reference—a Holocaust memorial museum. Let the reader hold that in stillness and reverence.

“For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; …
Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
I will bring your children from the east
and gather you from the west.
I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
Bring my sons from afar
and my daughters from the ends of the earth—
everyone who is called by my name,
whom I created for my glory,
whom I formed and made.”
Lead out those who have eyes but are blind,
who have ears but are deaf.
All the nations gather together
and the peoples assemble.
Which of their gods foretold this
and proclaimed to us the former things?
Let them bring in their witnesses to prove they were right,
so that others may hear and say, “It is true.”

“You are my witnesses,” declares the Lord,
“and my servant whom I have chosen,
so that you may know and believe me
and understand that I am he.
Before me no god was formed,
nor will there be one after me.
I, even I, am the LORD,
and apart from me there is no savior.
I have revealed and saved and proclaimed—
I, and not some foreign god among you.
You are my witnesses,” declares the LORD, “that I am God.
Yes, and from ancient of days I am he.
No one can deliver out of my hand.
When I act, who can reverse it?”

…

Sit with these words for a moment.

Remember where I saw four of them, standing out starkly on a museum wall—a Holocaust museum wall.

Reading ‘witness’ in context

I’m not an Old Testament scholar and certainly not on expert on Isaiah. There’s much I don’t know and much I can’t say about Isaiah 43. For that reason and others, I left out a portion of verse 3 and all of verse 4, because they introduce a problem I’m not equipped or have the space to deal with here.

But I am a student of, a reader of Scripture. I believe portions of Scripture should be read in their original context, that the original—and full—context of Scripture deeply informs the meaning of short portions.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” is a powerful question because of the context in which we most often encounter it. What we may not know is Jesus was quoting Psalm 22 and most assuredly knew he was. If you haven’t put Jesus’ question in the context of the full psalm, you should do that … after you read the rest of this editorial.

Returning to the four-word quote from Isaiah 43:10: “You are my witnesses” is a powerful statement in the context of a Holocaust museum, but read in the broader context of Isaiah 43:1-13, it challenges even further.

Why we are witnesses

The broader context of those four words from Isaiah 43:10 tell us we are not merely witnesses. Nor are we merely witnesses of horror and tragedy. Nor are we witnesses only so such things never happen again.

Isaiah, quoting the LORD our God, tells us we are witnesses of God. We are witnesses that there is no other god before, beside or behind God. We are witnesses that God delivers and nothing and no one else does.

We are witnesses of who God is and what God has done.

The power of our witness

“You are my witnesses” is a powerful statement in a museum that gives praise to the human armies that liberated the Nazi concentration and extermination camps. Certainly, we should cheer that liberation and give thanks for the liberators, but we mustn’t do so to the neglect or the diminishment of God as our ultimate deliverer.

“You are my witnesses” also is a powerful statement in a city where men and women promise they are our salvation. I assure you, they are not.

“You are my witnesses” is simultaneously a powerful statement of fact and a powerful call to action.

As a statement of fact: Like it or not, you and I are witnesses. Our lives speak. They speak of who we take God to be. What are our lives speaking about God?

As a call to action: If you and I claim the name of Christ, we are and will be his witnesses, in Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the Earth (Acts 1:8)—like it or not. We will witness in word and deed. What witness about Christ will our words and deeds give?

Yes, we are God’s witnesses in our politics, in our economics, in our business dealings, in our spending, in our giving, in our love life, in our friendships, in our family, in our driving, in our recreating, in our watching, in our listening. In all we do, we are communicating something about God.

In all we do, does our witness tell the world there is no god but God, nor has there ever been, nor will there ever be? That’s a bold testimony at the present time.

In all we do, does our witness tell the world God is the only Savior, the only Deliverer? That’s a bold testimony at the present time.

I admit this is more sermon than editorial.

I was a pastor. So, sometimes I preach.

Now, I’m an editor. So, sometimes I write.

I am a Christian. So, I’m always a witness.

Fellow Christian, so are you.

What God are we proclaiming?

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

“When I 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.

Working together for a better world

The United States was the only country to vote March 4 against a United Nations resolution declaring an International Day of Hope. The resolution was approved 161 to 1.

The U.S. delegate said the text “contains references to diversity, equity and inclusion that conflict with U.S. policies that seek to eliminate all forms of discrimination and create equal opportunities for all.”

Moreover, the United States was one of just three nations, along with Israel and Argentina, to vote against a resolution calling for an International Day of Peaceful Coexistence.

The U.S. representative expressed concern the resolution “advances a program of soft global governance that is inconsistent with U.S. sovereignty.”

If our worst fears regarding war do come to pass, our epitaph will read, “Ideology destroys Earth.”

John Paul Lederach, professor of international peacebuilding at the University of Notre Dame, wrote an essay in 2002 titled, “Breaking the cycle of violence.”

In the article, Lederach contends the most important question the United States and the West can ask other nations is, “How can we help you meet the fundamental needs of your people?”

It is a foundational principle in many religions that we are created in God’s image, and that every human life has intrinsic value and is worthy of respect.

Can we not just work together as human beings to build a better world?

Terry Hansen
Milwaukee, Wisc.

RE: Voices: The slow, tragic demise of evangelism

Your two-part series on the demise of evangelism in our time struck a nerve with me.

While a ministerial student at Wayland Baptist College during the summer of 1959, I hitch-hiked from New York City to Plainview, Texas, and then from Texas to North Bend, Ore. On both ends of that journey, I rode with Wayland student friends. I shared the good news of Jesus inside the vehicles of others over countless miles.

For a period of time, I pastored small churches in Texas, New Mexico and California while teaching full time in the field of education. For many years, members of my family engaged in Christian drama.

My wife Shannah and I have been involved in jail ministry in a variety of ways. Today, we still share the good news, but we and our Christlike relatives and friends, who are better examples than us, find it hard to witness in the age of Christian nationalism.

Many people now view evangelicals as hypocrites due to the mean-spirited actions of today’s religious zealots who are hungry for political power. Evangelicals now are viewed as members of a political bloc, instead of “the bearers of good news about Jesus Christ.” My wife and I no longer call ourselves “evangelicals.” We simply identify as “Christian.”

Satan is surely rejoicing about the bad news of Christian nationalism. Many of our friends and relatives support the movement because of their views about abortion and homosexuality.

Leon Blevins
Flower Mound, Texas

RE: Voices: What would you do if you were Esther?

I think this article you chose to publish might have been more than I can handle.

I think we need to be careful when trying to make comparisons of current politicians and events against those portrayed in the inspired word, especially when there is a political tint to the observations.

I sort of find the parallels drawn ludicrous and easily could make arguments that the author had it backwards. The author indicated we should find our own credible Ukrainian sources, rather than supply us with certifiable evidence.

This article never should have been published, in my opinion.

I’ve been a fan of the Baptist Standard since it was a small, paper magazine we picked up at church. This might well be the end of my interest in your publication. My intention is to unsubscribe. We’ll see.

Andy Pardue
Mesquite, Texas

It was dark as I headed to church one recent Wednesday evening. Traffic was heavy. Pedestrians were hard to see, crossing between cars, so I focused.

At the Westheimer and Dairy Ashford intersection for my turn-off, I was about five cars back from the traffic light. I could barely make out on the median a man with a cup and some sort of paper in his hand. He had a bucket to sit on, though at the moment, he was walking down the median, car to car, looking into each driver’s window soliciting for help.

The man was dressed in a pair of jeans, a pull-over shirt, a jacket and athletic shoes. There in the dark of night, in a not-so-safe and very busy intersection near 7 p.m., he was doing what he could to survive.

He came to my window, but I looked straight ahead. I pacified myself with the thought we help people like this man every day in our church.

As he moved down the median, I watched him in my mirror. The darkness cloaked his presence. I could make out his outline and shoes, nothing more.

His beginnings

I thought of this man’s beginning. He looked about 40 years old. I wondered about the day his mom gave him birth. I am sure it was in a hospital. I imagine the greatest care was given to him and his mom.

I would not doubt a dad was somewhere nearby waiting with nervous expectation. Maybe a dad wasn’t there. Maybe his mother decided, in the father’s neglectful absence, she’d brave the task of raising a child alone. Maybe the woman’s mother was there for her, or a sister or a friend.

Let’s say it was on a March 5th when the woman gave birth to this man who is now making his way back toward my truck after exhaustingly searching for help from every car awaiting the light to change.

After she gave birth to a baby boy, she held him. She caressed him. Perhaps she even prayed for him and his future. She wondered what his life would be like, what theirs together might face.

I would imagine she was full of hope, even if she faced the harshest of realities. She had dreams for this baby son she held in her arms, all wrapped in the warm white and green-striped blanket, wearing a little blue onesie the hospital provided along with a little blue cap for his tiny head.

The mom soon would take him to her bare apartment. Again, maybe the proud daddy was in tow. Maybe not. The little boy would speak his first words, take his first steps, enter his first day of school. He would be in school choirs, play on school sports teams and go on school field trips with his classmates.

His present

I could not help but stare at the man with the cup and a piece of paper, in a pair of jeans, a pull-over shirt, a jacket and sports shoes.

I was struck with the question: “Is this what this mother envisioned for her son? Did she imagine him being homeless with no hope, no job, no one to lean on, depending on the kindness of strangers for each day’s sustenance?”

Just then, someone rolled down their window and handed him a bottle of water.

Walking back to his spot at the head of the intersection, the light turned green before I could give him the only dollar I had on me.

I drove forward heading to church, looking in my rearview mirror in the dark at the man I did not help.

What caused him to be in this situation? Was it a bad break or a bad choice. Was he raised in a home or put out as a teen? Were drugs involved or some mental illness? I prayed for him, but this seemed empty.

His presence

I was running late for church. I tried to justify not helping, but this did me no good. God gave me a story, a picture, a visible need, and I drove by. How could I face our church family and listen to Pastor Seye lead our Bible study, knowing I left a man without giving aid?

Do you know what? I turned my truck around. I got back into that traffic on Westheimer, first going in the opposite direction of church, then U-turning so I could get back in line for the light.

I wondered if the man would be there or if he had been an angel God used to test me. I prayed he was a man and still there. He was.

As he made his walk to my truck seven cars from the light, I rolled down my window immediately, waiting. I had my dollar bill in my left hand. When he came to my truck, I held it out.

He took it and said: “Thank you. God bless you.”

He made his way down the median in the dark of night.

The next morning, the Christian radio station I listen to played a new song called “Looking Up.” The song told of a homeless guy on a median in the dark, who was out of luck and had no way out but looking up to the God who cares.

My encounter was no accident. I pray we see with the eyes of God.

Johnny Teague is the senior pastor of Church at the Cross in West Houston and the author of several books, including his newest The Lost Diary of Mary Magdalene. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

I arrived in Muleshoe in 1991 at age 28. The changes to rural Texas have been drastic and rapid. Many of those changes impact both rural and urban areas.

For instance, demographic shifts, declining volunteerism, political division and religious disinterest impact all of society. However, some changes are unique to rural life. Many of these changes are unintended consequences.

Unintended consequences arise from societal choices, legislation, technological advances and more. They may be positive, neutral or negative.

For instance, the invention and proliferation of the cell phone enabled greater freedom in communication and data. An unintended consequence was the loss of privacy.

As Lee Child wrote: “Imagine the uproar if the Federal government tried to make everyone wear a radio transmitter around their neck so we can keep track of their movements. But people happily carry their cell phones in their purses and pockets” (A Wanted Man).

Unintended consequences come in all shapes and sizes.

I want to give you a small sample of the effects of unintended consequences faced in rural living. The issues I describe are not unique to rural Texas, but to rural America.

Speed

I am grateful for the 75 mph speed limit. Most of my hospital visits are 70 miles to the southeast and 100 miles to the northeast. I remember making those trips at 55 mph.

Sen. Phil Gramm argued in favor of raising the speed limit: “Most people traveling from Dallas to Lubbock give up before they get there.”

I am thankful for the additional speed. Higher speed limits allow people and goods to move from population center to population center more quickly. However, the 75 mph speed limit had unintended consequences that radically reshaped rural living.

The 75 mph speed limit allows people to live in urban areas but make a rural living. Farmers and dairymen now can live 100 miles or more from their land. Their families gain the advantage of a variety of shopping and dining, easier access to medical care, private school choices, access to university events and more.

However, a rural community deeply feels the loss of every family that moves to the city. The school system loses good students and involved parents, merchants lose valuable customers and churches lose good members. The 75 mph speed limit enables all of it.

Mechanization

When rural America was settled, there was a family on every 40 acres. As mechanized farming gained traction, fewer people were required to farm the same number of acres. Since the 1960s, the size and scope of farm implements have grown exponentially.

Before performing a funeral in a rural community, a proud deacon gave me a tour of their facility.

“This church was overbuilt the day it was completed. Eight-row equipment changed this part of the country,” he said.

Today, farmers use 24-row equipment. Satellite and cellular technology enable farmers to manage sprinkler systems from anywhere, allowing farmers to live away from their land.

The advances in agriculture feed and clothe billions of people but require fewer workers. Factory and dock workers worry about losing jobs to automation. Those unintended consequences came to the farm decades ago.

Health care

A topic too complicated for this brief article is rural health care. The perils of rural health care are covered extensively in regional and national media.

Rural hospitals struggle daily to provide care and cover expenses. The health professionals who serve rural patients are to be commended for their dedication.

Education

The Texas state legislature is debating a policy called “school choice.” For the last few years, the rural legislators have taken the blame for gumming up the works and denying “school choice.”

Rural school systems will feel the changes in student enrollment quickly. Rural districts are concerned by the potential loss of a valued student and a loss in funding. Every remaining student will feel that loss.

In a city filled with 6-A school systems, there might appear to be an endless supply of students to accommodate every educational circumstance. But in rural America, where every student makes a difference and contributes to the life of the school, the “school choice” debate is personal and will be filled with unintended consequences.

Community

I never would suggest rural challenges are more significant than urban challenges. They’re simply different.

If you gather rural pastors, they will speak of these issues and others. There is a strong commitment and calling among rural pastors. Christ is neither an urban nor rural Savior.

As I write this, I plan to have dinner with a young couple creating a path in the cattle industry. Their life choices are rural choices. They will raise and educate their children, encourage others and serve their Lord in our community. Our job is to ensure they have the fellowship of a Texas Baptist church that nurtures them along the way.

One unintended consequence of their choice is they never will be required to leave early because of the traffic. They may leave early because of snow, but never traffic.

Stacy Conner is pastor of First Baptist Church in Muleshoe. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

(RNS)—There’s a new sin on the block, and its name is Empathy.

Actually, people are painting it both as a sin and a threat.

As a sin: Joe Rigney’s new book The Sin of Empathy released late last month, tells us empathy “often leads to cowardice” and “frequently leads to brazen malice and cruelty.”

Rigney is a fellow of theology at New St. Andrews College and an associate pastor under Doug Wilson at Christ Church in Moscow, Idaho. Both Wilson and Christ Church have been in the news for, among other things, their advocacy of Christian nationalism.

As a threat: In a recent appearance on the Joe Rogan podcast, Elon Musk described empathy as the “fundamental weakness of Western civilization” and, like Rigney, expressed concern about “weaponized empathy” or, as he also describes it, “the empathy exploit.”

This is hardly the first appearance of the idea empathy might be sinful. Rigney himself began writing on it in 2019, with an article titled “The Enticing Sin of Empathy.” But I first encountered the idea, albeit not exactly under this description, in the 1990s, when I read Hannah Arendt’s famous book Eichmann in Jerusalem.

Adolf Eichmann

Adolf Eichmann was a key official in the Nazi party who played an important role in organizing Adolf Hitler’s “final solution.”

Arendt’s book recounts Eichmann’s trial in Nuremburg and dwells at some length on his sense of duty. Like most people, Eichmann was susceptible to humane feelings toward his victims, but he suppressed those for the sake of “duty.”

He, too, seems to have been worried that empathy might be sinful. Arendt talks about how he felt “uncomfortable” about two occasions when he made exceptions for Jews to whom he had personal connections.

She also talks about how, in his regard for the Nuremburg judges who went out of their way to try to understand him and to treat him with consideration, Eichmann mistook their “humanity for softness.”

‘Untethered empathy’

In Rigney’s book, weaponizers of empathy include persecuted LGBTQ people looking for compassion and support, people who accuse church leaders or their spouses of abuse and people who claim to be victims of racism. In one of many illustrations, he writes:

“Why is untethered empathy so destructive? [Earlier] we noted the way that weaponized empathy can be used to manipulate others. At the extreme end we can think of the way that the transgender movement uses the prospect of suicide to manipulate parents into ‘affirming’ their child’s ‘gender identity.’ ‘Would you rather have a dead son or a live daughter?’ This is a hostage situation filled with manipulation.”

Although Rigney does not invoke duty per se, he goes on to argue the path of virtue is to resist such manipulative ploys, ensuring one’s feeling for others remains tethered to the shore of truth and reality.

Rigney is careful to say it is not compassion he opposes, just empathy—and, indeed, just one kind of empathy. He identifies a morally neutral form of empathy, which he describes as emotion-sharing—feeling the feelings of another.

The vicious form is what he characterizes as “an excess of compassion, when our identification with and sharing of the emotions of others overwhelms our minds and sweeps us off our feet.” This is what he calls “untethered” empathy.

If this definition strikes you as unusual, you’re not alone, as Daniel Kleven points out in his paper “Empathy is not a Sin, Part 2: The Troubling Fruit.”

Cruel to be kind?

In connecting empathy with cruelty, Rigney focuses on the way empathy can be selective, privileging those with whom we empathize over others who may have just as much claim on us and our resources but, for whatever reason, have not garnered our empathy. This is a point many have made in writing against empathy and related emotions.

In addition to citing psychologist Paul Bloom’s well-known book, Against Empathy, Rigney also cites Arendt’s On Revolution, albeit selectively and missing her bigger picture. The money quote from Arendt, striking when taken out of context, is: “Pity … possesses a greater capacity for cruelty than cruelty itself.”

Bloom’s point, as well as Arendt’s, is founded on the idea empathy—or pity—involves significant feeling-sharing, which nobody does, or even can, manage to show toward everyone who might deserve it, and which some are inclined to indulge and amplify simply for its own sake.

Given their characterizations of empathy and pity, these are sensible points. If what it is for a field medic to empathize with a soldier who has just lost a leg to a grenade is to share his feelings—writhing in agony, feeling overwhelmed by the pain, and so on—then, please, let us have field medics who lack empathy.

But, at the same time, I doubt anybody outside the anti-empathy crowd really thinks of empathy in quite this way.

Rigney’s arguments notwithstanding, I think it is just obvious the fact empathy can be weaponized and can lead to “cowardice” or even cruelty in the ways he describes doesn’t make it sinful. It makes it risky. But a lot of good things are risky. Love is risky, and in precisely the same ways.

Irresponsible packaging

The “hostage situation” Rigney describes easily could be reframed in terms of love rather than empathy. In fact, it is reframed that way in a Gospel Coalition article by Justin Taylor that Rigney quotes immediately after the “hostage situation” bit.

Likewise for the point about unfairness: Love can lead us to treat people unfairly, privileging those we love over those we don’t, and it certainly can be overindulged simply for its own sake. One hopes Rigney is not preparing a follow-up book called The Sin of Love.

At best, Rigney’s arguments establish a modest conclusion, one most carefully expressed as something like “untethered feeling-sharing is risky in some ways.” Repackaging this under the flashy title The Sin of Empathy might sell books, but it is irresponsible and pernicious.

‘Common-sense empathy’

Normally when people talk about empathy, they don’t have Rigney’s “untethered feeling-sharing” in mind. Rather, they have in mind something like putting yourself in someone else’s shoes and doing your best to attend to and identify with their feelings, their interests and their desires as they themselves understand them. Call this “common-sense” empathy.

Now, return to Rigney’s illustration of the weaponization of empathy. His choice of case is telling. Whatever else might be going on when parents are being given suicide statistics in an effort to encourage them to empathize with and support their trans kids, untethered feeling-sharing is not what’s at issue. It’s not even on the horizon.

The typical situation where once-loving parents are rejecting, or considering rejecting, their trans kid—or worse—is one where feeling-sharing is largely absent, as well as common-sense empathy, compassion and even sympathy.

They are not in danger of being overly immersed in their trans kid’s feelings. Typically, and understandably, given they are not themselves trans, they barely even can relate to those feelings. What they are in danger of is hardness of heart.

By describing this situation in the terms he does—a hostage situation, emotional blackmail, a case where empathy is being weaponized—Rigney is discouraging any movement whatsoever from the status quo toward feeling-sharing, putting oneself in the other’s shoes, even simple compassion or sympathy.

Empathy suppression

Rigney likely would insist he is only advocating empathy be tethered to truth and reality. But relying on “truth and reality” as one’s only anchors is itself risky. How risky depends on the clarity of one’s vision.

Eichmann well might have said his discomfort on the two occasions when he spared Jews from being murdered was a result of allowing empathy to come untethered from truth and reality. To avoid harming others, we need all the tools God has given us—our capacity to discern truth and reality, for sure, but also our capacity for empathy.

I’ll be the first to acknowledge Nazi analogies are overused and polarizing, but Arendt’s study of Eichmann was a study in common humanity—the banality of evil and the potential for it in all of us. Part of what she showed us is mistaking humanity for softness is dangerous.

Musk is right about one thing: Empathy is an exploit—in the computer hacker’s sense of the term. It’s a back door through which people we have become hardened against actually might get through to us. Suppressing it makes it easier for us to remain hardened—to persist in taking advantage of them, abusing them, oppressing them.

Empathy suppression is what helped Eichmann and others steel themselves in the face of other people’s suffering to carry out their military duties.

It’s what Rigney pretty explicitly wants people to do when confronted with the demands of the people he describes as “weaponizers”—persecuted LGBTQ people looking for compassion and support, people who accuse church leaders or their spouses of abuse and people who claim to be victims of racism.

He wants us not to cave in to the “ideology of victimhood,” but in pressing this case in the way he does, he only risks encouraging us to victimize others further.

Michael C. Rea is the Rev. John A. O’Brien Professor of Philosophy at the University of Notre Dame and co-director of the Center for Philosophy of Religion. He is an honorary professor at the School of Divinity at University of St. Andrews. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

For the past few years, I have followed the developments within the Southern Baptist Convention as we have investigated allegations of sexual abuse and cover-up within our convention. To say I have very mixed and very strong feelings about it all would be a profound understatement.

However, I was encouraged to learn recently the Department of Justice closed its investigation into the SBC’s Executive Committee and other entities without filing any further charges than those brought against Matthew Queen.

Unfortunately, I was shocked and disgusted by some of the public comments I saw from prominent Southern Baptists in the wake of this news.

For example, Denny Burk, a professor at Southern Seminary, said: “So here’s the bottom line on the SBC abuse ‘crisis.’ There wasn’t one.”

Pastor and former Executive Committee chairman Mike Stone said, “It was all a political ruse within our own denomination.”

That was not all they said, and they were not the only ones who said it. But you get the idea. Numerous individuals jumped onto the internet to publicly declare there really never has been a sex abuse crisis within the SBC, and it was all just a bogus scandal engineered by leftists and liberals within the convention.

To be frank, these remarks are shockingly ignorant at best and outright dishonest at worst, and they are a slap in the face to sex abuse survivors, both within the SBC and beyond.

The scope of the DOJ investigation

It is bizarre that anyone would think the Department of Justice closing its investigation represents anything like an exoneration of the SBC regarding sexual abuse and cover-ups.

The DOJ investigates violations of federal law. The DOJ does not have jurisdiction over state or local crimes, and the DOJ does not bring charges against actions which are not illegal. The SBC became the subject of a DOJ investigation to see if there was any violation of federal law.

Most cases of sexual abuse are not federal crimes. Most cases of sexual abuse cover-up are not federal crimes. They can be federal crimes under certain circumstances, but they are not such automatically. The fact the DOJ brought no charges against the SBC or its entities does not mean no crimes were committed. It simply means no federal crimes were committed.

But even more importantly, many of the ways in which SBC leaders were accused of mishandling sexual abuse allegations and mistreating survivors were not illegal at all.

The most prominent example is probably Augie Boto, former Executive Committee general counsel, who has been accused of suppressing sexual abuse allegations and attacking sexual abuse survivors in ways which, while morally reprehensible, are (to my knowledge) not technically criminal.

The DOJ closing its investigation into the SBC is not an exoneration from anything except federal crimes. That’s it.

The money problem

One of the biggest complaints many Southern Baptists have expressed over this whole process has been legal expenses. The Executive Committee has spent more than $13 million on legal fees and other costs related to the sexual abuse investigation. This has left the committee nearly bankrupt and may force them to use Cooperative Program dollars to pay those bills.

Southern Baptists who faithfully give money to the Cooperative Program understandably are dismayed at the idea their gifts will be used, not for missions and ministry, but for paying legal fees.

However, critics of the sexual abuse investigation have sought to discredit the investigation because of these mounting legal bills. After calling the investigation a “political ruse,” Mike Stone continues: “Now, the Executive Committee is on the brink of bankruptcy … [and] the Cooperative Program is in serious jeopardy.”

Stone and others are saying the sexual abuse investigation was a waste of time and money, and that supporters of the investigation—such as Russell Moore—are responsible at least partially for the convention’s financial woes.

But you know who Stone doesn’t mention? Johnny Hunt or David Sills. Both men are suing the SBC and are responsible for millions of dollars of those legal fees threatening to bankrupt the Executive Committee.

Why are Hunt and Sills suing the convention? After all, both men have admitted to committing sexual misconduct. But they claim their sexual sins were consensual. Therefore, Hunt and Sills are suing the SBC—and GuidePost Solutions—for defamation, since both groups publicly called Hunt and Sills’ sins sexual abuse.

You read that right: Two self-admitted adulterers (and accused sexual abusers) are suing their fellow Southern Baptists (1 Corinthians 6, anyone?) for accusing them of sexual abuse. And that is a major reason for the Executive Committee’s financial woes. But somehow, those financial woes actually are Russell Moore’s fault?

A standard smear tactic

I have noticed a common tactic in many of the public attacks leveled against the SBC’s sexual abuse investigation—accusations of “liberalism.” I’m not sure if these critics mean political or theological liberalism, but they most likely mean a mix of both.

This is just a standard smear tactic certain activists like to use when they have nothing of substance to say. Make no mistake, I believe there are legitimate, substantive criticisms to be offered regarding how the SBC has handled this investigation. But throwing around accusations of “liberalism” and “Marxism” is pure nonsense.

Terms like those have become essentially meaningless, particularly in SBC circles of late. The idea any major figure in the SBC truly is liberal—in either the political or theological sense—is absolutely laughable. And that’s exactly the response such accusations deserve—laughter.

The SBC has plenty of flaws, both theologically and politically. I think some within the SBC are too lax on certain matters of doctrine and ethics. But that’s a different essay. However, there is nothing—absolutely nothing—inherently “liberal” in opposing sexual abuse and standing up for victims.

The SBC sexual abuse investigation is not above criticism, but to label the Southern Baptists who initiated and support the investigation as “liberals” or “leftists” is simply crazy. Such accusations belie an emotionally immature and intellectually vapid approach to debate that deserves no respect from anyone, let alone Southern Baptists.

And it is a slap in the face to survivors of sexual abuse everywhere.

Joshua Sharp is the senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Chappell Hill, and a graduate of Southwest Baptist University in Bolivar, Mo., and Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary in Waco. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

The last few weeks have been … interesting.

There’s been a major news story just about every day, and each one has stirred up strong reactions and responses. I know. I’ve had some of my own.

Strong reactions and responses have been warranted, but not barbed responses, particularly not from Christians—no matter how strong our convictions or opinions.

Barbs do more to turn us against and away from each other than they do to win anyone over. Barbs focus us on our disagreements and distract us from who we are called to be. Left unchecked, barbs will grow into daggers, and we will wield the blades to harm one another and to sever our ties to each other.

The world doesn’t need us—the body of Christ—divided right now. We must dull the blades, remove the barbs and disagree civilly. Because there’s important work to be done, work we were commanded and commissioned to do.

Where we disagree

Our disagreements run the gamut. Here are just a few.

The Feb. 28 Oval Office incident, as I’ll call it here, drew swift and charged reactions. And those reactions elicited more reactions, which spurred still more. One we published March 8 sparked a fire among some by making an analogy between Esther’s advocacy for her people and Ukrainian President Zelensky’s advocacy for his.

Every analogy breaks down, and the author knows that. His aim was to bring Esther forward in time, to cause us to consider what we would do if put in her position. Yet, simply making the comparison was a bridge too far for some.

Mid-February, the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board approved an agreement with the Southern Baptist Convention’s North American Mission Board related to church planting funds. This also generated responses, and responses to the responses, a few of which we published.

Knowing the terms of the agreement now enables individual Texas Baptist churches to make a more clearly informed decision about whether to send funds to NAMB or allocate those funds elsewhere. No barbs needed.

This week and last, Texas Baptist pastors and ministry leaders visited the Texas Capitol to advocate for their positions on various bills under consideration during the 89th Texas Legislative Session.

One of those bills—HB 3—would establish an education savings account program. Hundreds from the general public registered to testify against the bill during a March 11-12 hearing on it.

Rural Republican and reporter Suzanne Bellsnyder commented on X (formerly Twitter): “More than 12,500 public comments over 2,995 pages submitted on HB3. The Comments are Overwhelmingly opposed. A Capitol Insider tells me ‘I have never seen anything like it.’”

Texas Baptists are not all of one mind on this issue. In fact, some of us hold completely opposing views to each other. I’m always glad when we don’t let our disagreement get in the way of working together.

How we disagree

I should clarify that I don’t mean the Oval Office incident was a mere disagreement, or that the tension between the BGCT and NAMB is just a petty little squabble—although some see it that way—or that how public and private schools should be funded in Texas is only a matter of not seeing eye to eye. No, each issue entails serious and substantive matters of difference.

Nor do I mean to equate the seriousness of all three of these issues. They aren’t equivalent. For example, the Oval Office incident is a matter of life and death for millions of people. That’s a very different thing than whether a BGCT church can get money from NAMB to plant a church or whether Texas sets aside public funds for private education.

Rather, I am calling to account how we communicate our opinions and convictions about these things, and how we communicate to and about those whose opinions and convictions are different than our own.

Christians have been at least as harsh as the world. The world has enough examples of people verbally tearing each other apart, without Christians modeling more of the same. What the world doesn’t have enough of are people disagreeing civilly. Christians ought to be the prime examples of how to do that—especially if we say we take Scripture seriously.

Disagreeing civilly

We live in a time of significant and pervasive disagreement. More and more, we seem less and less able to disagree civilly.

As our society polarizes—we hope not to the point of fracture—too many Christians are going right along for the ride. Some are even leading the way. I’ve been accused of that.

Our disagreements are political, economic, social and religious—and that’s just among Christians. Too often, our disagreements as Christians have led and are leading us to division.

Christians, of all people, need to pull back from our divisions. Or at least from the heat and vitriol of our dividing.

Rather than follow Paul’s example and part ways with our co-laborers in Christ (Acts 15:36-39), we need to follow Paul’s instruction to “live at peace with everyone”—if possible and as much as it depends on us (Romans 12:18).

We need to give up the kind of sharp disagreement that resulted in Paul and Barnabas’ separation, and we need to model civil disagreement.

This is a call to all Christians. More specifically, this is a call to Baptists—and more specifically still, Baptists of a Southern extraction—as we continue our own particular disagreements.

The world doesn’t need our infighting. The world needs the good news we are commanded to communicate in word and deed. This doesn’t mean we quit disagreeing—although that would be nice—but that when we disagree, we disagree civilly.

If only it were that easy.

But that’s why we must model civil disagreement, because it can be so hard.

This is not just my call. This is my aspiration. Because the truth is, I have strong opinions about certain things and can air them just as sharply as anyone. Lord, help me.

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Explainer

Some readers have noticed how few letters to the editor we publish. There was a time when each issue of the Baptist Standard contained a full section of letters. Now, we can go months without a single letter.

Throughout my tenure, I have been asked if I publish every letter to the editor I receive. I publish letters to the editor for which the writer provides his or her name and location—including those letters that criticize me and the Baptist Standard.

The simple fact is, social media and the desire for anonymity have resulted in the very low number of letters to the editor we publish. Social media allows anyone to say whatever they want to say, and immediately and sometimes anonymously. Many times, those who send me emails that read like letters to the editor do not want them published or do not want to be identified, which precludes their publication.

And then, there are topics like the relationship between the Baptist General Convention of Texas and the North American Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention, and the relationship between Ukraine, Russia and the United States that generate a lot of conversation and, by extension, more letters to the editor.

So, for the first time in a long time, I present you, the reader, with a full Letters to the Editor.

Eric Black, executive director/publisher/editor
Baptist Standard

RE: Voices: Correcting misunderstanding about BGCT/NAMB agreement

I appreciate Dustin Slaton’s answer March 5 to my earlier opinion piece in the Baptist Standard. My only response is:

The Baptist General Convention of Texas in November 2024 voted convincingly not to affirm the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message.

The Texas Baptist Executive Board in February 2025 approved a plan to accept $300,000 annually from the North American Mission Board to help finance new churches that will approve the 2000 Baptist Faith & Message.

Anyone else see any inconsistency in those actions?

Toby Druin
Waxahachie, Texas

Love of money evil’s root cause

Elon Musk and Donald Trump are two of the greediest persons on earth. Their love of money is the root cause of the evil they are inflicting on our nation’s people and the rest of the world. Both are using their powerful positions in government to enhance their own personal wealth. Doing so is wrong and totally unacceptable.

Spineless U.S. House and Senate Republicans, along with a dominant conservative U.S. Supreme Court enable Musk and Trump to do their thing by failing to hold them accountable.

Mid-term elections in 2026 cannot come soon enough.

Paul L. Whiteley Sr.
Louisville, Ky.

RE: Voices: What would you do if you were Esther?

Thank you for publishing Dr. Semikov’s article. I’ve served for 28 years as a U.S.-based missionary, having made 60 visits to Ukraine—four since Feb. 24, 2022.

The parallels between the account of Esther and her advocacy for the Jewish people and President Zelensky’s advocacy on behalf of the Ukrainian nation are numerous. Dr. Semikov’s analysis is compelling.

I know many Christians voted for President Trump, but the betrayal of Ukraine by the current administration cannot be defended on biblical, moral or democratic principles.

It is imperative Christians across the United States stand up for what is right and rise up on behalf of a nation fighting for the same values Christians in the United States hold dear: faith, family, freedom to worship, the right for self-determination, and an emphasis on value and dignity of each human life.

Ukraine has one of the largest evangelical populations in all of Europe. They have been a bastion of evangelical Christianity since their independence from the Soviet Union in 1992, with more than 2,200 Baptist congregations—though hundreds of church buildings have been destroyed by Russia. In the middle of the war, these churches have opened their doors to their communities, providing sanctuary, humanitarian and medical aid, in addition to meeting spiritual needs.

Missionaries from Baptist churches in Ukraine currently serve in more than 22 countries around the world in places as far away as Africa, Australia and South America.

Abandoning Ukraine now in favor of Russia isn’t only a shift from religious freedom to support of a dictator, it is an abandonment by the American church of our brothers and sisters in Ukraine.

I urge American Christians to contact their senators and representatives and speak up in support of Ukraine. Our voices matter.

Stephen Benham
Lawrence, Penn.

Thank you for publishing Dr. Semikov’s article, “What would you do if you were Esther?” I found the parallels between the biblical story and current international events thought-provoking.

As an early scholar of the Bible, I appreciated learning more about Esther’s story—an example of a leader facing a difficult choice between personal risk and standing firm for her people. History repeats itself, and today, we see leaders navigating similar dilemmas, including Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.

The recent confrontation between our national leaders has sparked intense emotions and debate. Some find it troubling to compare Ukraine’s fight for survival with biblical struggles, as morality, political views and understanding of the war shape perspectives. Yet, for those who grasp the history of this conflict, the right side to support is clear. It is unsettling when prominent leaders hesitate to stand against evident evil.

The question of compromise is complex: Do you surrender and risk annihilation or keep fighting despite great costs? Is true courage about defying enemies, or does it also mean challenging allies? While national interests matter, moral responsibility cannot be ignored.

Dr. Semikov’s article raises important questions about leadership, morality and international responsibility. Thank you for publishing this thought-provoking piece. I look forward to future discussions on this topic.

Sergiy Nesterenko, M.D.
Lubbock, Texas

Annie Armstrong, a historical figure in Southern Baptist life largely responsible for the creation of the Woman’s Missionary Union and known for cooperative missions, has an offering named after her that supports the work of the North American Mission Board.

She is credited with blazing a path for women to serve in the Southern Baptist Convention when our society did not allow women to vote, and notably gained support for two of the first Black female missionaries.

For this reason, I took notice when news was shared that NAMB will continue to be exclusive in its distribution of its offering funds in Texas, only allowing them to be utilized by churches willing to plant other churches that affirm the Baptist Faith & Message 2000.

Exclusivity in sharing the gospel is not part of Annie’s legacy, and I find it difficult to imagine her being pleased with this situation.

NAMB’s theological position notwithstanding, you can be sure many gave what once was considered sound biblical and theological reasoning to oppose Annie’s work to include women as both missionaries and organizers of mission work.

Over time, however, these secondary theological issues took a backseat to the primacy of gospel cooperation in a previous era of SBC history.

Today, I serve a conservative, cooperative, autonomous Texas Baptist church that recently voted to cease giving to the Annie Armstrong Easter Offering due to NAMB’s continued insistence my church’s values be excluded in its church-planting partnerships.

On being conservative

While many associate conservatism with numerous ideas and movements, when used in a positive sense in Baptist life, it typically is associated with theological orthodoxy and a prioritizing of the Bible.

Before I was called to my current church, they went through a two-year, intentional-interim period in which they identified “Bible-teaching, preaching, and practicing” as one of their core values. From this value comes a self-identified mission “to serve, evangelize, and disciple individuals while loving God, and loving others.”

For us, a large part of being conservative is to prioritize the Great Commission and the Great Commandment.

When being interviewed by the search committee, I was “grilled” by the oldest member of the group, a matriarch of the church, about which version of the BFM I affirmed.

I told her I affirmed the 1963 BFM for three reasons:

1. Unlike the 2000 BFM, the 1963 BFM does not purport itself to be an instrument of doctrinal accountability.

2. The 1963 BFM favors a Christocentric view of Scripture, which more naturally lends itself to a prioritizing of the Great Commission and Great Commandment.

3. And the 1963 BFM does not seek to tell churches who they can or cannot call as pastors in fulfilling the Great Commission.

She responded, “That’s what I needed to hear.”

On being cooperative

Does this mean our church is ready to hire a female as its next pastor, since the 1963 BFM does not prohibit doing so? Likely, not. We do not even have female deacons at this point.

We reflect the typical, traditional values you would expect in a small-town, county-seat community.

We do not largely think of ourselves as “progressive,” nor do we strive to “rock-the-boat” on most theological or political issues.

That being said, when push comes to shove, we value and protect the importance of cooperation due to our history and how we have seen God use this value in our midst.

We have had members serve and support Texans on Mission—formerly Texas Baptists Men—short-term mission teams across denominational lines, and individual missionaries and organizations without worrying about whether we were in full agreement on secondary issues, because we were confident in our unity in the gospel.

Perhaps, we understand this most intimately and regularly on a local level, where we get the privilege of being a “community church” that not only connects with numerous kids and youth from non-churched backgrounds during our mid-week programming, but also utilizes and welcomes volunteers from other gospel-oriented churches in sharing Jesus with them.

In an effort to celebrate this cooperation, I have “pulpit-swapped” with the pastor of our local Methodist church and even allowed him to baptize—by immersion, in the Llano River—a child whose family attends our church, since she received Christ at camp with him.

On being autonomous

Autonomy is a buzz word in Baptist life, but the profile that described my church to me as a potential applicant demonstrated it was much more to our people. While the profile recognized the spiritual leadership and call of the pastor, it also affirmed the role of committees and other groups and individuals in bringing decisions before the church during conference.

As if this did not make it clear enough, the profile summarized and clarified their intent by affirming: “We are committed to congregational church governance.”

For reasons outside the purview of this article, autonomy can be overlooked and compromised in Baptist churches. Whether in an effort to “kowtow” to the charismatic personality or authoritarian demands of a dynamic pastor, or in the name of efficiency and relevancy, processes and systems that promote autonomy under the lordship of Christ sometimes are done away with in an effort to “get things done.”

If my congregation is not willing to sacrifice the value of autonomy in its ordinary operations, it most certainly will not stand for it from a denominational entity.

My conservative, cooperative, autonomous church gave up on Annie’s offering because NAMB gave up on the spirit of Annie’s legacy.

Matt Richard is pastor of First Baptist Church in Llano.

This article originally appeared in The Dispatch and is republished by permission.

Two hours before the fireworks in the Oval Office between Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and U.S. President Donald Trump on Feb. 28, I met with a delegation of Ukrainian church leaders from Kyiv.

Their visit long had been planned, and it only happened to coincide with the high-stakes presidential meeting. The pastors’ goal was simple but urgent: to thank the United States and encourage continued American support for their beleaguered nation.

Our discussion was a somber one, held in a beautiful space across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. With my past diplomatic work focused on international religious freedom, I welcomed the opportunity to learn about conditions on the ground.

The pastors shared firsthand accounts of Russia’s indiscriminate killing, religious persecution and the kidnapping of Ukrainian children. Ukraine, facing an existential threat from its much larger neighbor, needs the world to understand what is truly at stake. And especially Americans of faith.

Role of religion

Three years ago, Russia launched its brutal invasion of Ukraine, triggering a humanitarian catastrophe. Russian President Vladimir Putin invoked religion as part of his justification, believing their shared Orthodox Christian history lent credibility to his imperial ambitions.

But Ukrainians begged to differ. Their courage, combined with U.S. and European support, thus far has prevented Putin from erasing Ukraine from the map.

Ukraine, in many ways, is a religious success story compared to its Russian neighbor. No country is perfect, and antisemitism and Islamophobia exist, as they do in many parts of the world.

Many were concerned, including myself, about a religion law passed last fall banning the Russian Orthodox Church and organizations tied with nations at war with Ukraine. The law laid out a process for review, which has not resulted in widespread Russian Orthodox church closures as some feared. Different expressions of Orthodoxy coexist peacefully.

Protestant denominations, the Catholic Church and Judaism all have found a place in Ukraine’s social fabric. Islam is practiced freely. The parliament just established a national day of prayer.

Religious freedom

Compared to the former Soviet Union, Ukraine stands out as a model of religious pluralism. The Ukrainian government has protected space where faith can be expressed freely without fear of repression. Ukraine looks more like the United States in its approach to religious freedom than it does Russia.

In comparison, Russia remains lightyears behind, both with how it treats religious freedom domestically and in occupied Ukrainian territory. Russia’s abysmal domestic record on religious freedom demonstrates what is at stake should Putin prevail in Ukraine.

In a rare area of agreement between the first Trump administration and Biden administration, both have designated Russia as a religious persecutor in every year since 2020.

Others agree. The International Religious Freedom or Belief Alliance, a coalition of countries committed to religious freedom launched during the first Trump administration, issued a statement on the anniversary of the invasion outlining many of Russia’s transgressions in the occupied territories and targeting within Ukraine.

As one Ukrainian monitoring group reported, “Over 630 places of worship, including churches, mosques, synagogues, and houses of prayer, have been destroyed or damaged by Russian shelling.”

UNESCO, the United Nations agency tasked with preserving cultural and religious heritage, also has verified damage to 149 religious sites due to Russian attacks.

Three messages from Ukraine

The Ukrainian delegation carried three key messages for America’s faithful. First, they wanted to dispel Russian misinformation. Ukrainians enjoy full religious freedom.

Second, they sought to correct the misplaced concerns about persecution by the Ukrainian government. The real persecution is happening in Russian-occupied territories.

Finally, and most desperately, they begged for help in recovering the 20,000 Ukrainian children kidnapped by Russia.

One evangelical leader put it bluntly: This war is not about land, which Russia has plenty of. This war is about identity. Russia wants to erase Ukrainian identity from existence. It is an existential struggle.

Several pastors drew an alarming comparison to ISIS. Like ISIS, Russia has kidnapped children, brainwashed them and forced them to fight against their own people. Like ISIS, Russia has developed religious justifications for genocide.

One pastor compared Patriarch Kirill of the Russian Orthodox Church calling for a “holy war” like ISIS calling for jihad. Kirill has provided religious justification for Russia’s war crimes, using faith as a weapon to subjugate and destroy.

Ideology instead of logic

A Baptist leader explained, while the West views the war through a logical lens, Putin sees it through an ideological—even spiritual—framework. In other words, the United States is trying to discern Putin’s motivations based on logic and reason.

However, they explained, Putin believes in the doctrine of Russkiy Mir—Russian World. Putin wants to revive the old Russian Empire, with the state and the Russian Orthodox Church working in tandem to oppress all other religious expressions. Nowhere is this clearer than in occupied eastern Ukraine.

The pastors shared how, in occupied Ukraine, religious leaders who refuse to bend to Russia face a grim fate. Many pastors have been “taken to the basement”—a chilling euphemism for torture and likely death. The delegation knew of at least 36 ministers from different denominations who had disappeared this way.

What’s next

Now, after Friday’s disastrous Oval Office meeting between Zelensky and Trump, what’s next?

Ukraine is not asking for American soldiers. It is not asking for America to fight its war. It simply asks for continued support in its struggle for survival. It hopes for a partnership to develop Ukraine’s natural resources and a stronger balance of support among the U.S. and European allies.

If negotiations with Russia do not include the return of occupied territories, the pastors implored that the United States insist on religious freedom in occupied areas and the return of the kidnapped children. The Trump administration maintaining Russia as a “country of particular concern” for severe religious freedom violations is also crucial.

As one Baptist leader put it Friday: “The United States has been blessed by God to be a light to the world. By helping Ukraine, you are being the United States. We are praying for a coalition of good to stand against the coalition of evil—Russia, China, Iran and others.”

Ukraine’s fight is an existential battle, but most Americans do not realize it. Ukraine is fighting for its survival, but also for the very values America holds dear—freedom, democracy and faith.

If the world fails Ukraine now, it will not be long before Putin and his allies set their sights on other targets.

When asked about trusting Putin, the pastors I met with were unequivocal. “All of history speaks against that stupidity,” one said. They urged America not to rely on promises from Putin.

For the Ukrainian delegation, the message was clear. This is not just a war of weapons. It is a war of survival, a war of identities and a war for the soul of a nation. Millions of Ukrainians are praying for U.S. support. America, they implored, must not turn away.

Knox Thames served in a special envoy role at the U.S. State Department during the Obama and Trump administrations, focusing on religious minorities in the Middle East and South and Central Asia. His book Ending Persecution published in September 2024. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author. This article originally appeared in The Dispatch and is republished by permission.