In my work as Baylor University’s associate director of ministry guidance, I have the privilege of working with women and men discerning a call to vocational ministry.

It is a gift to hear their stories and to bear witness to God’s work in their lives. I especially love hearing about the mentors, ministers and church communities that formed them as disciples of Christ.

While my male students tend to receive praise and encouragement across the board, regardless of denominational tradition, the experiences of my female students unfortunately are more varied and measured.

Some of these women arrive on campus still searching for the language to describe what they feel called to do, and sometimes a church’s tepid or partial endorsement makes it more difficult for them to imagine what is possible.

Inevitably, my female students who are most confident in their calling are those who grew up in traditions or congregations where women were affirmed fully in all levels of ministerial leadership.

They had mentors, opportunities and examples. Because they saw themselves in their church’s pastoral teams, they did not have to question whether they could be called or reconcile their big God-filled dreams with human limits.

Usually, male and female students from these empowering environments also are more equipped for critical thinking, and their faith is less threatened by ideas that might differ from their own.

State of women in Baptist life

Baptist Women in Ministry’s recent State of Women in Baptist Life Report 2025 supports these observations, noting: “Congregational culture is where theology meets practice, and thus is where Baptist women in ministry are either empowered or undermined.”

The data presented reinforces the important role congregations play in forming and affirming the women in their midst.

More specifically, the report names six practices congregations that empower women share: (1) affirmation of women in various leadership roles, (2) intentionality toward gender in the world of the church, (3) non-hierarchical organizational structures, (4) support networks for women, (5) addressing gender issues and (6) creating egalitarian staff policies.

The statistics provided in Part Two of the report remind us we have work left to do truly to embody these practices.

One simple suggestion

I have one simple suggestion for moving us forward: If you support women in ministry, join a church that affirms, encourages and empowers them.

Perhaps that recommendation seems too rudimentary even to write down, but I am continually surprised by the people who claim to be advocates for women in ministry who nevertheless attend churches that exclude women from positions of ministry leadership and/or refuse to ordain women to the gospel ministry.

These individuals do not hesitate to offer words of support in an academic context or in their mentoring of female ministry students, yet they excuse themselves from the faithfulness of solidarity in their choice of a local church.

For the family

One of the reasons I hear often from these would-be allies of women in ministry is they have chosen to worship in a complementarian church for familial reasons. Perhaps these churches have robust youth groups or an excellent music ministry. I normally smile and nod politely, because careful and constructive confrontation is not one of my gifts.

But here is what I wish I could say: “I have children, too.”

Indeed, it is in large part because of my children that my husband and I intentionally have chosen to worship in spaces that affirm women.

We never want either of our children—one boy and one girl—to question God’s calling on their lives. Because the local church plays a large role in one’s theological formation, we wanted to be in a space that valued and nurtured the gifts of our son and our daughter equally.

We have witnessed firsthand the deep-seated faith, active curiosity and quiet confidence that accompanies college students reared in such faith communities, and we wanted that for our children.

But this choice has not come without sacrifice. The congregations that tend to be the safest, most supportive places for women are not usually megachurches with large youth programs. Far more often, they are small to medium spaces that demand a lot of time and energy from every member of the congregation.

We all pitch in our gifts to support and build up the body. And that work can be exhausting. We could use a few more laborers in the fields of harvest.

Imagine the possibilities

When someone proudly tells me they support women in ministry only for me to find out they have excused themselves from this work in spaces that need their life and witness, it can be difficult for me to reconcile. Not necessarily for myself, but for the church.

If everyone who claims to support women in ministry joined a congregation that empowers women, imagine the possibilities.

Think of what we would be teaching our children. Think of our witness to the community. Think of our faithfulness to support those God has called. Think of the students—male and female—we could assist in discerning a call to ministry and the foundation our combined efforts could provide them.

I implore you again: If you affirm women in ministry, please stop telling me and show me. Join a church that empowers women.

Mandy McMichael is associate director of ministry guidance and J. David Slover Associate Professor of Ministry Guidance at Baylor University. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

This editorial will be a bit meta, as the kids say. It will be about what news and opinion is—a reflection on where we’ve been. Reflecting on reflecting is the “meta” part.

The days are full and fast. Yesterday’s gone. Tomorrow’s a breath away. The news cycle churns.

What are we doing with the time we hold in our hands like sand? What are we doing with the present?

Some of us are adding to the churn. There’s work to be done. If the present is all we really have, there’s urgency. We have to keep moving, stay busy.

Some of us hard drivers think of Scripture like Ecclesiastes 3—a time and a season for everything—and Psalm 1 or 119—meditating day and night—as applying to other people or as something we can do on the fly.

But does it? Can we? Do we?

Yesterday may be gone, but its importance is still alive and well, informing our today and tomorrow. We must not rush past yesterday.

We must give space and time to reflection, but reflection with a purpose.

Biblical history

As Bible-believing, Bible-preaching people—who also should be Bible-reading, Bible-studying people—the idea of reflecting on the past should not be a problem for us. That’s what the Bible is—reflection with a purpose.

Part of the Bible’s authority is its record of God’s interaction in human history. We are supposed to learn from that record and shape our lives by it. At least, that’s what we say we believe we should do with the Bible.

Yet, how much of our present do we give to learning and being shaped … by Scripture? We give plenty to being shaped by the world. So much of what we do is evidence of that.

Reflect on this: How many people do you know who quit attending worship because of the music or something the pastor said? You might be one of them.

While you reflect on that, take a look at this story of church leaders in the Democratic Republic of Congo trekking as much as 45 miles a week through deep mud just to copy a portion of Scripture to take back to their churches for Sunday worship.

Whose attitude and behavior yesterday best prepare them for tomorrow? This is the purpose of reflection.

I tell you, we must not rush past yesterday.

Reflecting on history

Part of what’s behind this editorial is my reading of Ukrainian history over the last couple of weeks. I’m trying to have better grasp of what informs Ukraine’s present. It’s a complicated history, and learning just how complicated it is has opened helpful windows of understanding.

We owe it to our brothers and sisters in Ukraine and elsewhere to understand more about their history, particularly as they face current hardship and especially as we take steps to come alongside them in their suffering.

Also, part of what’s behind this editorial is my reflecting on the business sessions of the 2025 Baptist General Convention of Texas annual meeting.

I’m not equating the situation in Ukraine with anything in the BGCT, though both have complicated and contested histories.

The vote for BGCT president and the vote on a motion to investigate Baylor University were close. In fact, the vote on the Baylor motion was very close. BGCT leadership—and the rest of us—need to reflect on why. There is important information for who the BGCT is and where the BGCT is going in that reflection.

BGCT reflection

Since there’s no real campaign for BGCT president, we don’t know why people voted for either Debbie Potter or Kevin Burrow. We do know of the 750 votes counted, 57 percent were for Potter and 43 percent were for Burrow. That’s pretty close. And worth reflection.

The vote on the Baylor motion was even closer. After a raised-ballot vote was too close to call, messengers were asked to stand and raise their ballots to vote. From my front-and-center seat, the standing ballot vote looked just as close, but I could not see the room as completely as could those on the platform. They ruled the opposition carried, and the motion failed.

I’m not calling into question the determination of the chair. I am saying when a vote is that close, we do well to try to understand why and to learn from it.

Votes are important. They provide us important information about who we are, where we’ve been and where we’re going. We ought to reflect on votes and their outcomes. This is all the more true when votes are very close.

Those in favor of the motion to investigate Baylor represented a fairly broad spectrum of messengers to the 2025 BGCT annual meeting. The previous day, very few of them voted in favor of a motion to defund Baylor. What tipped the balance so much between the two Baylor votes, and what does that indicate for the BGCT as a whole? That’s worth reflection.

I don’t know the answers with certainty, but I guarantee they are connected to our history.

Those who lead the BGCT shouldn’t rush past November.

Reflecting forward

Some of us reflect to a fault. We go beyond reflection to rumination. We get stuck in the past, try to live in the past. We live out the opposite side of Ecclesiastes 3 from the hard drivers. We don’t move forward. Forgetting about the future, we’re not even in the present.

Our reflecting on the past must move us toward the future. And a more productive future, at that.

As people of the Bible—shaped by the Bible—this should be second nature. After all, Israel’s past and biblical reflection on it all pointed forward to Jesus. From there, all reflection points forward to the restoration of all things in him. Yes, reflection has a purpose.

Advent is a season of reflective anticipation. Or it’s supposed to be. How much reflection are you doing this December? Me? It’s hard to do much reflection in such cluttered times. But I must give space and time to reflect on the necessary things in a forward direction.

Don’t rush past yesterday. Notice it. Reflect on it. Learn from it. Grow from it. It points to our future.

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

In Part 5 of this series, I cited Karen Bullock’s Pinson Lecture on Baptist distinctives. One of the elements of Baptist identity she discusses some might argue is the most difficult to defend. It certainly has been the source of much controversy—both in the church and in the public square.

I am talking about the interlocking notions of soul competency and religious liberty.

Baptists assert faith is not something that can be compelled. Like love, humility and so many other Christian virtues, it only can be chosen.

Thus, the liberty to choose whether to believe in Christ not only is a cherished element of America’s political philosophy, but also is a core element of the church’s soteriology.

The problematic nature of religious liberty

In his recent series on Christian nationalism, pastor-scholar Nick Acker frames this core Baptist conviction this way: Both the church and the government have a role to play in a healthy society. The government’s role, among other things, is to restrain evil and promote good (see Romans 13:1-7).

But when the government uses the force of law to compel conformity to Christian dogma, it oversteps the boundaries established for it by God. In so doing, it corrupts both itself and the church.

There is plenty of evidence, both from history and from contemporary politics, to support Acker’s construal of the situation. But as Acker himself acknowledges, not everyone sees our plight as humans in this way. The problem boils down to the simple fact no legislation is either amoral or objective.

At the risk of offense, let me be both clear and emphatic. One of the most unhelpful sayings ever to catch on in our public life is, “You can’t legislate morality.”

It is true enough that moral laws do not guarantee moral conduct, and in a democratic society, it even can be argued legislation is a lagging indicator of that society’s moral health.

Nevertheless, all laws—and most administrative regulations—are moral in intent and quality, and that morality will not be religiously neutral. It will be informed by someone’s worldview—whether the Judeo-Christian consensus, enshrined in Sharia law, proposed by so-called “secular humanism,” or something else.

In turn, the perspective on the moral life that shapes our laws will shape our culture, and that influence will trickle down into the hearts, minds and hands of individuals.

Hence, we can put the logical objection to religious liberty this way. There is no “none of the above” option at the ballot box.

We must decide whose ethics will guide our democracy, and it is doubtful whether any worldview can be broad enough and nimble enough to accommodate a pluralistic society while simultaneously giving the necessary moral boundaries a nation needs to have a peaceful and profitable public life.

Remembering the past, acknowledging the present

Critics of religious liberty—and of its corollary, separation of church and state—need to remember this Baptist doctrine did not spring out of nothing. It was a reasonable reaction to centuries of persecution and corruption. Indeed, the church often was co-opted by the state, with disastrous consequences for the European continent.

We still see this process at work today. While some tout Vladimir Putin as a champion of Christian identity, this dangerous dictator continues his war of aggression against Ukraine and suppresses any voice inside his country that would hold him to account.

We may never know how many people Putin’s wars have killed, how many women have been raped by his army, or how many children have been forcibly removed from their homes and brainwashed with Russian propaganda.

Most disturbing of all is the role church leaders have played in the atrocities that have marred Western history. The Russian government seems particularly adept at subverting the church, but other ecclesiastical authorities in other times have cooperated with “the powers of this dark world” (Ephesians 6:12), usually for their own financial, political or sexual gain.

Christianity and democracy

I am sympathetic to the concerns raised by Christian nationalism. The United States of America was not founded as a Christian nation, but it is difficult to see how it could have been founded at all without the assumptions and predispositions inherent in the Christian faith.

It well may be not every culture provides fertile soil for the seeds of liberty to be planted, and it certainly is true secularism—both on the right and on the left—threatens to poison the soil in which our own nation grows.

Nevertheless, I believe freedom of religion and separation of church and state are indispensable elements of a democratic society and even may be required for any nation that wants to describe itself as “Christian.”

Judaism and Christianity share a common conviction that every human is made in the image of God and therefore possesses indescribable dignity and inestimable worth. Each person must encounter God herself or himself, and each person must decide how to respond to that encounter.

I am aware of the philosophical problems inherent in positing a religiously neutral government, and I also am aware of the ways certain people—mostly ideological liberals—have misused separation of church and state to blunt the moral influence of those with whom they disagree.

Nevertheless, my first concern is to preserve the freedom of individuals to respond to Christ with authentic faith. My second concern is to ensure the church’s freedom to speak prophetically to its government and culture.

The traditional Baptist doctrines of soul competency and separation of church and state may not help us win whatever culture war happens to be raging during a particular news cycle, but they will help us achieve these two far more important priorities.

Frankly, there will be elements of the Judeo-Christian worldview we simply must insist upon, and there are no secular equivalents for these distinctively Jewish and Christian ideas. But in so doing, we will be laying the foundation for the kind of open, free society America’s founders envisioned.

Wade Berry is pastor of Second Baptist Church in Ranger and has been resident fellow in New Testament and Greek at B.H. Carroll Theological Seminary. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

I am changing the story to protect identities.

Richard and Gina are two precious church members. They both work hard to make a living, to cover their bills and to give their offerings to the Lord each week without fail.

Richard lost his job. Gina works in the mailroom for a local oil and gas firm.

To help cover expenses, Gina, a great cook, bakes a load of goods each week for Richard to sell during the week to make ends meet. They needed a good central location. So, I let them sell their goods at church during the week until Richard gets a good job.

This is where mission creep sets in.

One thing leads to another

Before long, more and more come to the church parking lot to buy Gina’s baked goods.

Gina has built a great reputation for her cooking. Richard is a kind man who helps everyone who stops by. If people can buy the goods, he gladly sells them. But whatever is left, he gives to those in need.

Soon, their baked goods began to sell out. So, they added boxed lunches to their product line. They needed extra space to do all this, along with warmers, tables, take-out containers, utensils, bags, signage and chairs for those who want to eat on-site.

The sweet couple did not have all these things. So, they started using church equipment during the week to accommodate their customers.

They got tired of hauling things from their home. So, they started storing them in the church. Storing things in church takes away from the storage the church needs for its normal needs.

The couple started to put church stuff out behind the building, because they didn’t want their items to be stolen. The result? Church things were exposed to the elements and stolen.

When I found out, I asked Richard and Gina to please stop putting the church things out in the parking lot.

I knew they needed storage, but the church doesn’t have room to store personal items. This also was complicated when other church members asked if they could store things at the church because they didn’t have money for storage.

When I said they could not, the members would ask, “Why do you let Richard and Gina do it, if we can’t?”

Do you see the problem?

Pushing

Richard and Gina were so kind to accept my guidance. They did what I asked … for about two weeks.

Then, their things began to pile up inside the church again. They even began to use classrooms for their items, which meant on Sunday mornings, some of our Sunday school classes had nowhere to meet.

When I found out, I asked Richard and Gina, as kindly as I could, to please remove their items, to stop storing in the church, or I would not be able to let them use the church grounds for their business.

They agreed. Their business was booming.

Even so, they continued to abuse the privileges we gave. Nine times they abused the privileges, even sneaking around trying to do what they wanted where I would not catch wind of it. But our sins always find us out.

On a recent Sunday, I called them into my office to tell them they no longer could use the church for their baking/catering/dining business.

It is hard to be hard on people, but those who mistake kindness for weakness, who try to game the system—especially in the Lord’s house—must face consequences.

Forgiving

Monday, Gina asked for a private meeting.

It doesn’t matter what conflicts we’ve had. I always want our relationships to continue, never to stop worshipping the Lord together.

So, there was Gina in my office. She began to cry.

She said: “Pastor, we lied to you. We have abused the church. You gave us chance after chance, and we took advantage of you and the church. I am asking you to forgive us.

“Do you remember when Peter asked Jesus how many times he was to forgive?” she continued. “He wondered if seven times was too many. Jesus told Peter, not seven times but 70 times seven. Pastor, will you forgive us 70 times seven? Will you give us one more chance?”

She began to cry some more.

She got me. She was right. Because she admitted their sin. Because she was broken. Because she reminded me of the Scripture about forgiveness.

And mostly because I remember how many times I ask God to forgive me for the same sins I commit over and over, I could not not forgive. I could not help but give them another chance. And I have.

There is a note to make with regard to forgiveness. The Lord says we must be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. We can forgive, but we also should do all we can to protect ourselves and prevent recurrence.

As a result, I forgave, but I had them sign a document stating they would not take advantage of the church again. If they broke their word, there would be no further discussion. With the next offense, all their things would be moved out without one plea.

I cemented it by having the couple come before the church as I stated our agreement publicly, since their offense had been public.

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. His website is johnnyteague.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Jane Kenyon was a poet and translator. She died young. Already, I am three years older than she was when leukemia took her. How many times in my life I also could have died young.

Her poem “Otherwise” is short. It is a powerful poem, because in simple, spare prose, it makes much of the overlooked and mundane. Through it, Kenyon expresses gratitude for everyday things many of us long since have taken for granted.

Things like getting out of bed in the morning, eating a bowl of cereal, seeing art on the walls of our home. Having a home.

You can listen to “Otherwise” here.

Kenyon knew it could be otherwise, all of it. She knew someday it would be. She wasn’t well.

I’m old enough now, I’ve experienced enough life, I’ve seen enough things go well enough to know and appreciate, to be thankful it wasn’t, it isn’t otherwise.

And I’m learning to be thankful still.

Thankful in all circumstances

One of our brothers returned to his home after the Baptist General Convention of Texas annual meeting in Abilene last week. His home is at war. It is otherwise for him. Yet, even in the midst of war, he and his fellow Ukrainians know it could be worse.

In so knowing, they teach us to be thankful in all circumstances.

Another of our brothers posted a video to Facebook last Thursday from an emergency room. On Tuesday, his wife had emergency gall bladder removal. On Thursday, he was back in the emergency room with his daughter after she was in a car accident. He was thankful for a seat belt.

“Yes … in spite [of] anything, we will be thankful. We need to be thankful. There is so much to be thankful for,” he said.

“Even if it’s hard, even if it’s unsettling, if life throws things at you, we come before the Lord, we pray together, we ask for help, and we thank [him] for things we already have,” he concluded, encouraging those watching to come celebrate with his church.

Our brother teaches me to be thankful amid all circumstances.

Are we thankful?

What about us? What do we take for granted? What, who have we grown so accustomed to in our lives that we have forgotten to be grateful for them, that we fail to imagine it could be otherwise?

We simply don’t see so much of what we ought to be, can be thankful for. Many times because we don’t look through the irritations, the inconveniences, the frustrations common to all of us. More than anything, that’s my problem when it comes to thankfulness.

Lord, thank you that the bad isn’t as bad as it could be, and thank you for the good that doesn’t have to be at all.

Some of what I’m thankful for

I am thankful for the Baptist Standard staff. Each person loves the Lord and cares deeply for people.

I am thankful for the Baptist Standard board. They are great encouragers, on top of being great leaders in their respective places of service.

I am thankful for our donors, who do far more than help pay our bills. They fuel us to pursue our mission.

I take none of them for granted.

Because I know it could be otherwise.

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 my mom died of leukemia, I was exhausted from the hospital stays, from moving into her home to care for her, and having her and her sitters live with me for a time. Our mother-daughter relationship was very close, and saying “good-bye”was anguish, stressful to the max.

When mother passed, it was a shock, as we thought she would live at least another few months. In fact, on the day she died, lab results showed her in remission from leukemia. Yet, she died from complications of the disease.

Life and death just cannot be predicted with certainty. They truly are in God’s hand, and we stand back in awe of his judgment and wisdom, weighing factors we do not know exist. To know God is to know he is purely love and mercy toward his children.

When we planned mom’s funeral service, I was half-numb and chose for a soloist to sing “Holy Ground.” I knew that was the right song but did not know why. Was this a poor choice, because we were burying our loved one in the ground? Were we thinking the burial site was holy? I surely did not mean to communicate that.

What is holy ground?

Recently I came to understand the concept of holy ground better. It is anywhere we meet God, where he speaks to us and transforms us—as God said to Moses at the burning bush, “Take off your sandals for you are standing on holy ground” (Exodus 3).

Holiness is where God stands and teaches us with tenderness and tough love. It can mean where God frees us.

Ann Voskamp has written we meet God in our “breaking”—which I take to mean our grief and deep sorrow. The God of mercy and love does not wish us to stay broken, but to be healed and refreshed in our relationship with him and ready to accept new life circumstances.

I stayed broken too long. I made God meet me over and over and carry me through years when I could have been more productive for his kingdom. But drawing me to intimacy and dependency on him, it was all holy.

Holy rebuilding

Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries with the empty chair—I have been there. Now, most of the chairs are empty.

New babies have been born into the family, but they do not replace a precious spouse, revered parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. We older folks are the “elders” now—the patriarch and/or matriarch in a long line of believing family.

It is wise to prepare for this phase of life and pray for every kind of leadership strength—physical, emotional, financial and spiritual.

Note to the young: Use every day of life to finish strong. The end requires of us all we are.

If you are alone or lonely this holiday season, if you feel broken by recent grief or grief that seems to last forever, remember: This can be your season of “holy ground” as God rebuilds you.

I see the picture of a broken, hardened pot reworked on the potter’s wheel and made even more beautiful and useful than before. That can be us with the touch of the master potter’s perfect pressure and heat.

There are some changes that only come through fire, a burning bush and the holiness of God. Refining fire changes the heart and life.

Ruth Cook is a longtime Texas Baptist. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

“The local church is the hope of the world.”

I heard this more than once during the last couple of days.

“The local church is the hope of the world.”

Sometimes, it’s hard to see that.

That’s a hard word, but I have to be honest. Church, sometimes we’re the problem.

I know this stings. I know this hurts. The treatment often does, and I mean this as treatment, as medicine—to get better, to be well.

I also heard more than once, “The church at its birth was the church at its best.”

Oh, the jab of “was.” Is our best really “was?”

Lord, help us. May it not be so.

Can the church at 2,000 years be the church just reaching its stride?

Lord, help us. May it be so.

But, alas, there’s so much history—too much history—to the contrary.

Alas, church, we so often have been the problem.

Here. Take a sip of medicine.

*******

Like a person who wants to eat everything bad and live everything good and somehow stay healthy, we have come to think we can nod our heads at the preaching and go on ignoring the teaching, believing none will be the wiser.

But just like a person letting themselves go is obvious to anyone with eyes to see, so is the church’s neglect of its own Scripture obvious to the world.

Yes, we agree that to love God with our whole heart, mind, soul and strength and to love our neighbor is the greatest commandment, but we have yet to believe it with all that we do and think and feel.

Oh, yes, we proclaim going and making disciples of all people, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, is our greatest commission, but we haven’t cleared our schedules yet to do it.

It’s bad enough when it’s just me. It’s worse when it’s the church.

When it’s us together neglecting the doing of our professing, the gross effect is … gross. The Christ-deficient individual is magnified in the Christ-deficient church.

Who are you calling “Christ-deficient,” editor?

Sometimes, the medicine upsets the stomach.

*******

Our bickering, our complacency, our enculturation, our pride, our entitlement, our so-called faith without our faith in action—these are our Christ-deficiency.

These are the decay poisoning our blood, rotting our bones, atrophying our muscles, eroding our minds and our lives. These are the proof we are not remaining in Christ, that we are neglecting what we profess to believe.

We are Christ-deficient when we chase satisfaction and ignore sanctification.

We are Christ-deficient when anger overruns reason and fear siphons off courage.

We are Christ-deficient when we point the finger of judgment instead of extending the hand of compassion, when we are stingy with grace and mercy and liberal with condemnation.

We are Christ-deficient when we put more stock in worldly power than in taking the position of the worldly powerless.

A Christ-deficient church is made of Christ-deficient individuals. We are Christ-deficient when you or I am Christ-deficient. So, the cure is for me and for us.

Sip. Cough. Yep, the medicine is bitter. If we’ve lost the taste for grace.

There is grace here, and grace is powerful, even if the medicine is bitter.

*******

Grace is this: Christ-deficiency is absolutely curable.

Oh, the sweet grace of Christ-sufficiency.

The cure is confession—honest and specific confession.

The cure is repentance—full and complete repentance.

The cure is Christ himself.

“To live is Christ.”

“I no longer live. It is Christ who lives in me.”

“Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh.”

When we put on Christ, when Christ lives in us, we obey Christ’s commands.

When we obey Christ’s commands, we put on Christ, and he lives in us.

That bitter medicine is not so bitter after all. No, this is good medicine. And we must take it alone and together if the church really is to be the hope of the world, if the church again is to be the church at its best.

Oh, but grace is more.

Grace is this: Even when we don’t take the medicine, Christ is risen and alive and powerful and active and at work in this world. And that is grace for the world. Because Christ is the hope of the world. Even when the church isn’t quite there with him.

Ah, but when we are, my, my, my. When we are there with him, we are hope alive in the world, a light all can see through the darkness.

Grace is this: Even as some of us have yet to take the medicine, others have, and though they may not be completely cured yet, they are the radiance of Christ in the dark places all too common in our world.

That we would all join them.

*******

Church, while we celebrate what we have done right in the world, we also must not deny what we have done wrong.

We have enacted the Great Commission, however imperfectly, leading many millions to hope, to salvation, to life. We have embodied the Great Commandment, however incompletely, extending God’s compassion to multitudes. These are rightfully celebrated.

We also are right to examine our imperfection and incompleteness, acknowledging the Great Commission and Great Commandment are for us, too, that we are not finished being made disciples, nor are we finished loving the Lord with our whole selves or loving our neighbor.

Church, sometimes we have been the problem, but not always. Sometimes, Christ alive in us has been the solution when there was no other way.

Lord, may this be true in us again. And again and again, until there is no need anymore.

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.

The alarm clanged. I’m not a morning person, and I hated that loud thing.

Staggering through the house, I woke up kids. Three sleepy girls stumbled from beds, made their way to the den and turned on the television.

I kept my eyes on the clock and gave orders: “Turn off the TV. (These days, it would be “turn off the cell phones.”) Eat this, wear that, comb your hair.”

Mornings were chaotic at our house during those years with young children.

The frenzied activity halted for 15 minutes each day. Regardless of where our daughters were in their routine, their dad would say, “Come on, girls, it’s time.”

Planting devotional seeds

Dad, dressed in suit and tie, called us all to the living room. He chose the middle section of the sofa, and our three daughters argued over who would sit next to him, until we adopted the rotation system.

We put the hurry-scurry on hold while we spent a few minutes with the Lord. We had no clue how important this daily custom would mean to each of us in later years.

My husband, their preacher-dad, read a chapter from a children’s Bible. The children’s edition featured pictures and stories in modern, simple English.

After the story, we memorized a Scripture. He chose one each week for us from the 1972 edition of the Living Bible. The Living Bible is easy for children to understand and learn.

After the story, we recited the new Scripture in unison, and then we each prayed. Listening to our daughter’s prayers could be eye opening. We discovered their depth of understanding and heard their candid ideas and needs.

After the serenity pause, the dash-about activities began again. The youngsters ran to pick up lunches and rush out the door.

Family devotionals began with the birth of our first child. The habit continued until our grown daughters left the nest. The children’s Bible sits on our library shelf these days. It is a sweet memory of yesteryear.

Now, the two of us, husband and wife, keep the tradition. We read a passage silently from our adult Bibles and then discuss it.

Fast forward 50 years. Our daughters can still recite those Scriptures, and through the mountains and valleys of life, those godly words brought comfort.

Bearing devotional fruit

Our firstborn developed early-onset dementia before she reached age 50. For 10 years, we watched this smart, vivacious, young woman decline with this horrific disease.

One day, while she was in the early stages, we waited for a doctor. Sitting on the exam table, she said, “I’m so scared.” She knew what awaited her with this illness.

I replied, “Quote your favorite Scripture.”

She looked at me and smiled: “Don’t worry about anything, instead, pray about everything. Tell God your needs and don’t forget to thank Him for His answers” (Philippians 4:6 NLT).

It was one she’d leaned at her dad’s knee.

We discussed the Scripture and what it meant. Over the next few years, the ones where memory existed and she could still speak, she quoted this one constantly to herself over and again.

Another favorite verse she recited as long as she could: “Just as you trusted Christ to save you, trust him too for each day’s problems. Live in vistal union with him” (Colossians 2:6 NLT).

She learned others: Romans 8:28. Romans 8:38-39. Psalms 23. 1 Peter 5:7.

Her retention eventually totally failed, and I quoted them to her. Occasionally, a flash of lucidity entered her brain as her dad or I cited them, and she smiled. Deep down inside her frail body and deteriorated mind, the Scriptures spoke.

I often wondered how she would have coped without them. Or how would we? These Scriptures carried comfort during dark days.

Sustained by devotionals

In late October 2024, hospice gave us the sad words: “She is transitioning rapidly now. We can’t say when she will go, but it will be soon.”

I didn’t know when she was going, but I knew where.

On October 26, I stood by her bed and watched her tiny, atrophied body slip away. Oxygen helped the irregular breathing. Often the gasps stopped, but then breath continued with its slow, unpredictable irregularity.

I prayed Philippians 4: 6 over her, and I personalized each phrase:

“Don’t worry about anything, sweet girl. Don’t be afraid. You are going to heaven. Don’t worry about leaving us. We are fine and we will see you again in heaven.

“You and I are praying about everything, and God knows our needs. He’s taking care of us, and you will be well and happy again. He knows you need to laugh and hug again. God will provide your needs, and we thank him because he hears us.”

As I reworded the familiar Scriptures, too weak to open her eyes, she blinked. She heard me, and I believe God allowed her understanding in that moment we shared.

Those Scriptures she learned as a child brought her peace and encouragement during the death hour, as they did us.

The power of those family devotionals helped us through life and death. When we began the routine, we didn’t know how vital and essential these Scriptures would become to us.

Suggestions for family devotionals

1. Set aside 10 or 15 minutes each day for family devotions. Work out the best time for your family. Some may prefer morning, and others may prefer before bedtime.
2. Read from a children’s Bible and show the kids the pictures. Switch to an adult Bible when the children outgrow the children’s Bible. Read a chapter each day.
3. Let your children ask questions.
4. Choose one Scripture and recite it daily until all have memorized it.
5. Allow each one to pray after the recitation of Scripture.

Children will remember and cherish, and that alone is powerful.

Gay N. Lewis is married to Paul H. Lewis, pastor of Second Baptist Church of Rosenberg, and is the author of 15 Christian novels and two blogs. You can find her books on Amazon. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Letter: Editorial: What is the BGCT? Show up to shape it

I would like to offer a clear and gracious clarification in response to how my intentions were presented in this editorial. The article places the presidential nominations within the broader conversations surrounding women in ministry, ordination and pastoral titles.

While I recognize these ongoing discussions within Baptist life, I want to be clear that at no point have I ever made Dr. Potter’s gender, her ordination or the title she carries in her ministry role a factor in allowing my name to be put forth as a nominee.

As a committed Texas Baptist, I wholeheartedly affirm the autonomy of every local church to seek the Lord’s direction and govern themselves accordingly.

From the very beginning, my desire—even in considering allowing my name to be put forth—has been and continues to be to emphasize the importance of corporate prayer among Texas Baptists.

The Baptist Standard’s publication of my nomination, as well as my subsequent article “Voices: Pastoring through corporate prayer” clearly articulate what has motivated me to allow my name to be placed in nomination: a deep desire to call our churches back to the power and unity of corporate prayer. This has been—and remains—my sole purpose for allowing my name to be considered.

I am thankful for Eric’s wise words that once the annual meeting wraps up, we will all continue working together as Texas Baptists to reach our great state with the gospel.

Kevin Burrow, pastor
First Baptist Church, Eastland

Kevin, you are correct. I do not believe you or Debbie Potter have women in ministry as a main concern in accepting nominations for president of the BGCT. Both of you deserve consideration for the leadership you would bring to that role. I apologize to you and to Debbie for not taking additional space in the editorial to make that clear.

Thank you, Kevin, for correcting the record.

Our annual meeting is just a few days away. I say “our” because I am a Texas Baptist.

And by “Texas Baptist,” I mean I’m part of the Baptist General Convention of Texas.

Not because I’m the editor of the Baptist Standard. Baptist Standard Publishing is an independent partner of the BGCT, part of which means we have editorial independence and part of which means I am not a BGCT employee.

I’m part of the BGCT by virtue of being a member of First Baptist Church in Plano, a solidly BGCT church.

Since my family joined the church, I have been elected by First Baptist Plano to be a messenger to BGCT annual meetings. Before that, I was a messenger to BGCT annual meetings from the church I served as pastor.

Why am I a messenger? Because messengers vote. I want to have a voice in BGCT governance. I went to the annual meetings, and I voted. I will go and vote this year, too.

Before that, I attended BGCT annual meetings with my father-in-law Glenn Ward, who wouldn’t miss an annual meeting for the world, though he did miss one while undergoing treatment for pancreatic cancer.

My father-in-law believed in the BGCT so much that he invested in it for decades—serving it as an Executive Board member, serving with it through missions, promoting it and supporting it.

He didn’t just talk about the BGCT. He lived the BGCT. He didn’t think the BGCT was perfect, but he absolutely believed the BGCT was worth his investment.

The BGCT needs a lot more Glenn Wards.

We can start by showing up to the 2025 BGCT annual meeting in Abilene Nov. 16-18. Beyond showing up, those of us who are messengers can shape the BGCT with our votes.

What’s to shape?

Over the last few years, messengers have voted on statements of faith, institutional relationships, ministry roles, board and committee makeup, budgets, and leadership. Messengers decided it all—from the most controversial and consequential to the most mundane.

In recent years, messengers decided motions on affirming women in ministry, a motion on whether to affirm the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message, and a motion to amend the GC2 statement of faith. Even with these recent decisions, the same issues are still in play.

Two nominations for BGCT president are expected—Debbie Potter and Kevin Burrow. Anyone who’s followed the discussion on women in ministry within the Southern Baptist Convention, the BGCT and the Baptist Standard understands part of the significance of these nominations. For those who haven’t: Both are ordained. Both carry the title “pastor.” (See note at end of editorial.)

Some—like Kody Alvarez, pastor of Oak Grove Baptist Church in China Spring, dually aligned with the Southern Baptists of Texas Convention, and Jordan Villanueva, instructor of Christian Studies at Howard Payne University—still have questions about GC2 that may surface during the 2025 BGCT annual meeting.

Their questions revolve around denominational identity, doctrine, how GC2 is structured and language describing GC2—such as “centrist.” You can find a series of articles here on what “centrist” means.

Texas Baptists Executive Director Julio Guarneri has responded to questions about GC2, faith statements and women in ministry in his Oct. 15 and Nov. 7 weekly updates.

You can read his responses and decide for yourself if you still have questions. If you do, you can voice your questions during the annual meeting. If you are a messenger, you also can vote your convictions on these matters.

What to do

To vote our convictions on these and other matters, we need to know our convictions before arriving at the annual meeting.

We need to employ the historic Baptist principle of soul competency—“the God-given freedom and ability of persons to know and respond to God’s will,” as Bill Pinson defines it.

We need to read up on the issues. One way to do that is to read the various articles linked in this editorial. The linked articles don’t address all the issues, and they won’t answer all our questions, but they will provide some important information.

We need to study what Scripture says about the issues. We face these issues wanting to be obedient to Scripture, to walk in step with biblical conviction as guided by the Holy Spirit.

One of the reasons Baptists debate and even fight over some things—OK, so many things—is because we take the Bible seriously and want to be true to our understanding of it. Evangelism, missions, how we do church and how we do all of this together—we take these to be Bible issues, obedience to Scripture issues. So, yes, study Scripture before the annual meeting.

We need to pray—before and during the annual meeting. We need to ask the Holy Spirit to speak and to direct us. We need to ask for discernment, especially with the more heated issues.

We need to talk with others—those who agree with us and who disagree with us. We need to hear wise counsel from mature Christians.

We need to take all of this together, we need to show up, and we need to vote.

What I think

I have my opinions and convictions about the issues. It might be hard to believe, but not all Texas Baptists agree with my opinions and convictions. Thankfully, complete agreement isn’t necessary.

One reason I’m a Texas Baptist is because we who agree and disagree are going to meet together next week. We’re going to worship together, pray together, eat together, vote together, and my hope is we will leave together, not in lockstep, but still joined together in Jesus Christ and his Spirit to work together, communicating his gospel in word and deed.

May it be so.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Kevin Burrow commented on Facebook in response to this editorial, which is now published with permission as a Letter to the Editor. He correctly pointed out that I did not make clear his intentions for accepting a nomination for president of the BGCT.

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.

In my last article, I argued believer’s baptism is important because of what it says about the nature and composition of the church. The same is true for another Baptist distinctive—the priesthood of all believers.

This conviction—often derived from 1 Timothy 2:5, 1 Peter 2:4-10 and Revelation1:4-6—has been a source of tremendous encouragement for Baptists throughout the centuries. But when it is misunderstood, it also can be the source of much mischief.

Defining the doctrine

Millard Erickson describes the priesthood of the believer this way:

“All persons are capable of relating to God directly. … There is no need of any special intermediary. All have redemptive access to the Lord. And what is true of the initiation of the Christian life is also true of its continuation. Each believer can discern God’s will directly” (Christian Theology, Second Edition, p. 1096).

We learn from Erickson that the doctrine has two dimensions. Christologically, the doctrine insists Jesus is the only mediator between God and humanity.

As the writer of Hebrews insists, Christ is a sufficient mediator precisely because he is the perfect sacrifice—the sinless Son offered on behalf of a sinful humanity—and because his offering was made out of complete and willing obedience to the Father.

Ecclesiologically, the doctrine asserts every person has both the right and the responsibility to come before God.

As Erickson insists, this capacity does not extend merely to an individual’s initial prayer for acceptance into God’s kingdom through faith. It also includes the believer’s ongoing engagement with God.

Erickson couches this ongoing engagement in terms of the discernment of God’s will, but for reasons we will discuss below, Stanley Grenz locates the believer’s activity as priest first and foremost in her or his intercession for other believers (Theology for the Community of God, p. 647).

This presentation of the doctrine can seem a bit two-dimensional and disjointed. But in the second volume of his Systematic Theology, James McClendon Jr. demonstrates the doctrine is neither of these things (Doctrine, p. 368.)

For McClendon, it is the direct result of Christ’s redemptive activity, resulting in “deliverance from the world of sacral authorities into the world of the good news.” Its consequences are nothing less than a radically reshaped relationship with status and power.

Jesus’ instructions in response to his disciples’ jockeying for position is not merely a commentary on effective leadership. It is an expression of the church’s essence and a call to live out its implications (Mark 10:35-45 and parallels). It even bears witness to a new set of metrics for judging human conduct (Matthew 23:1-12).

Defending the doctrine

But can the doctrine be defended from Scripture?

As I indicated above, the Christological dimension of this doctrine is beyond doubt. The old priesthood has been replaced by a single High Priest, one whose reign and service are eternal and whose sacrifice is qualitatively superior to those provided by the old sacrificial system (Hebrews 6:19-10:22).

But what about the ecclesiological dimension? 1 Peter 2:4-10 is the only text that explicitly associates believers with a priestly identity, and as Michelle Lee-Barnwall points out in Neither Complementarian Nor Egalitarian, the accent in that text is on the identity of believers as a whole, not on the identity of any individual believer (notice the phrase “royal priesthood” in vv. 5, 9).

Hence, it could be argued that Peter’s emphasis is on how the church as a whole fulfills a priestly function in its cultural context.

Grenz and McClendon, however, do not base their reflections upon the doctrine in 1 Peter. They do what the venerable apostle did, turning to the Old Testament—and especially to Exodus 19:5-6—to enrich their understanding of this core Baptist conviction.

It is true enough that God eventually instituted a priesthood within Israel, but McClendon implies this was not God’s primary intention.

Rather, Israel was to stand apart as a “holy nation” with one King, a people who by their words and by their lives pointed other nations to God. In that sense, they performed the most basic function of priests—interceding between God and humanity—and served as forerunners for those who believe in Jesus.

This is why Grenz highlights intercession as the primary—though not the exclusive—arena of priestly activity. When believers pray for one another, they are entering the very presence of God on behalf of their brothers and sisters in Christ. In so doing, they are enacting Paul’s model of the church as a spiritual family, advocating for one another out of love.

In turn, they listen for God’s voice. God can, of course, decide not to speak. None of this negates the revolutionary assertion that any person is capable of hearing from God, and God may decide he only wants to speak to the person directly affected by the church’s prayers. But the church is a family, and sometimes we are too emotionally compromised to perceive the truth.

We need a loving brother or sister to come alongside us, put his or her arms around us, and help us receive from our Father in heaven what we otherwise may not have the strength to bear.

Concerns, questions and contributions

Despite the ways religion has changed in the West over the past 2,000 years, the priesthood of all believers still can feel like an oddly fitting suit of clothing for some.

There is comfort in assuming our spiritual welfare is someone else’s problem. More importantly, it is frightening to think God has entrusted the teenaged metalhead or the back-row gossip with the responsibility of representing Christ to the world.

Our fears about this doctrine are not entirely unfounded.

As Karen Bullock points out in her Pinson Lecture, the priesthood of all believers is not a license to do whatever we want, and it is not a claim that individual people are sufficient to the task of reconciling themselves with God or living a God-honoring life. She has to issue these warnings because people sometimes have construed the doctrine in these ways.

Nevertheless, we should not underestimate the importance of the priesthood of all believers.

It coheres nicely with the presupposition all humans are created in the image of God, and it reminds us Christ had a particular preference for children and other outsiders—people who lacked the credentials to wield spiritual, moral or political authority but who received the message of the coming kingdom with faith, hope, joy and love.

The truth is all of us are the supposedly misguided teenager or the annoying old person. We all are the recipients of that shake of the head that says, “Lord, I think you’ve lost your mind this time.”

And yet, Christ not only receives us into his kingdom, but also appoints us as his priests. We are entrusted with the sacred responsibilities of bringing our broken, distorted selves to God for forgiveness and healing, of weeping in his presence on behalf of our brothers and sisters in Christ, and of sharing his good news with those—both inside and outside the church—who need to hear it.

Of course, there always will be questions related to this doctrine. For example, how should it affect our understanding of the pastoral office?

And there always will be those who wield it as a defense against accountability.

But when properly understood, the priesthood of all believers is one of the Bible’s most profound affirmations of human dignity, and it can encourage us to hang in there when the fight for godliness seems utterly without purpose, benefit or end.

Wade Berry is pastor of Second Baptist Church in Ranger and has been resident fellow in New Testament and Greek at B.H. Carroll Theological Seminary. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

It will be a huge mistake if Florida state lawmakers pass a bill requiring all of Florida’s public state universities and colleges to rename one roadway on their campuses after the assassinated conservative activist Charlie Kirk.

The party of Trump and Turning Point USA are portraying Kirk as a righteous martyr. From 2015 to 2024, Kirk used God (Jesus) and Holy Scripture to win votes for an immoral, greedy, autocratic politician, Donald Trump.

God is not fooled when we use God (Jesus) to promote our selfish pursuits of taking our country down the wide road of white Christian nationalism. God doesn’t choose our political leaders. In a democracy, we the people elect them.

It is wrong to lionize Charlie Kirk. Kirk should not have been assassinated. It was an evil act that took his life. No one should celebrate his death. Everyone can pray for and empathize with Kirk’s wife and two young children. May we do so.

Paul Whiteley Sr.
Louisville, Ky.