Years ago, I was facing a major life decision and my dad said, “Remember, all that glitters is not gold.” William Shakespeare offered this nugget (pun intended) of truth as a reminder to watch for counterfeits because outward appearances can be deceiving.

I’m concerned that many Christians, even pastors, are choosing glitter over gold, by embracing a false representation of the true power of God and a parody of his kingdom and how it advances in the world.

This is nothing new. When Moses was on Mount Sinai receiving God’s law, the people of Israel grew impatient. They wanted something they could touch, see and build for themselves, something that felt like real power. They needed a leader who would step up and fulfill their dreams to make their own god. Aaron acquiesced, collected their gold, melted it down, and formed the golden calf.

The people rejoiced, danced around it, sang songs and said, “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt” (Exodus 32:4). It looked impressive, it glittered and gave them a sense of control. But it wasn’t real. It was nothing but a lifeless idol, a substitute for the living God.

When confronted by Moses, the truth was revealed. Their golden calf had no power, no presence, and could offer no salvation. A collective group of people chose a leader to help make it happen. They gave generously to it, sincerely celebrated it, only to realize it was a false representation of something so much better. It was not only a distortion of true worship but a mockery of the real thing.

“Christians” or disciples?

Dallas Willard noted that it’s possible to self-identify as a “Christian” and not be a disciple of Jesus. The word Christian shows up three times in the New Testament while the word disciple appears 269 times.

Jesus only called disciples. The word, “Christian” has been hijacked and redefined, often by leaders, influencers and politicians, who have taken on the label and often not exhibiting the fruit of the Spirit.

God alone knows the human heart, but Jesus said there would be signs. Many Christians act as if the ends justify the means. In the kingdom of God, the means are always tied to the ends. The actions of God are tied to the heart of God. In a desire to accomplish the “ends,” we lose our prophetic witness when our “ends” don’t match up with the “means,” the way of Jesus and his kingdom. 

A mock kingdom or the real thing?

My concern is the building of an idol that’s not true gold. Worldly power makes us feel like we’re in control, even safe and powerful, but it’s an imposter.

When the church tries to act like the state, it always leads to a false witness. If the state tries to act like the church, it leads to a false kingdom. Jesus was clear before Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight…” (John 18:36). His kingdom does not come through worldly force.

Back to core Baptist distinctives

I am Baptist because I believe in the authority of the Bible. I believe that Jesus was perfect theology embodied and that Scripture applied looks exactly like him.

I believe in the autonomy of the local church, the priesthood of all believers, our two ordinances, individual soul liberty, saved membership, our two offices (with nuanced differences in various churches), and the separation of church and state.

I know many will disagree with my application of the last one and I understand why, but in this far-to-limited space to write or converse about it, I want to lay out some foundational principles that I hope will guide deeper conversations about two current issues. I offer my own humble opinion, trusting in the soul competency of each of my brothers and sisters.

I will not be endorsing any candidates from our pulpit

I come back to our core tenets of soul competency and the priesthood of every believer. I will preach about the kind of leaders we should want to serve us, but my members are free to vote as they will.

I will encourage a posture of submission to the authorities (Romans 13) while at times, if necessary, proclaim that “we must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). I will embrace my right to speak truth to power, according to the Scriptures, regardless of what partisan side they’re on.

Endorsing candidates will likely backfire and be used against us to lobby for the taxation of churches. Doing so would only create more division within our churches. Once the politician does something unbiblical (likely), I would be left having endorsed him or her.

I will continue to endorse Jesus as our only (already elected) king and preach that our allegiance belongs to him alone.

The state does not need to act like the church

When the state tries to be the church, it becomes a parody of the true kingdom. His kingdom advances through his people in every domain of culture in every nation on earth. For the state to try to force a particular religion, even Christianity, on the people in a liberal democracy, it presents an imposter of the real thing.

I love and seek to obey the Ten Commandments. But as one commentator noted, to a watching world, mandating they be put on the walls of public-school classrooms feels like a dog marking its territory.

Christ rules over everything and in the hearts of his followers. Forcing one’s belief on another is contrary to the gospel and the nature of biblical faith. We lose our prophetic witness when we try to force our beliefs on others.

I’ve talked with several attorneys who agree that the mandate seems like a direct violation of the historical interpretation of the Establishment Clause, which prevents the government from establishing, sponsoring, or endorsing any religion.

The very first commandment says, “You shall have no other gods before me.” That’s explicit. There’s only one God, and we are to obey him alone. Let’s pray for our Christian teachers and administrators who live out the gospel daily. We don’t need a secularist or non-Christian explaining to our kids what it means to worship him.

The church does not need to act like the state

Earthly kingdoms often are built on power, conquest, and the pursuit of earthly desires. King Jesus taught us that his kingdom comes through humility, service and love. It does not rely on worldly power.

The church is now one of the few places left where people can find refuge from the division in our culture. The church should be the place where everyone can come together with different ideas and partisan opinions and be one under Christ. His church transcends all temporal governments and institutions.

Like our Baptist forerunners we must fight for freedom and against the oppression of any religion. We don’t need the five pillars of Islam, the five-fold path of Buddhism, or some secular creed on the walls of our public schools either.

I praise God we live in a representative democracy, and it’s why I’m calling all Baptists to do what we’ve historically done: Let’s fight for the freedom of religion and keep the state from promoting any religion.

If we think we’ve gained a foothold for the gospel by force, we can be certain that it’s not the kingdom of God that has come. It’s a golden calf. All that glitters is not gold.

Jeff Warren is senior pastor of Park Cities Baptist Church, Dallas. The views expressed in this editorial are the responsibility of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the Baptist Standard.

R. Keith Parks was the Knute Rockne of Baptist missions.

If you ever heard Parks preach during a missions service, you left ready to run through a wall to see the world reached for Jesus, just at the famed Notre Dame football coach was known for charging up his players for a game.

Hearing about Parks’ death Aug. 27 at 97 brought back a flood of memories about his passion for missions.

I was 22 the first time I heard Parks preach. It was the commissioning service for the Foreign Mission Board’s Journeyman class of 1982-84 after six weeks of training, or as we called it, missions boot camp. Parks had taken the helm of the FMB just two years earlier.

Our group had just sung “Hear I Am, Lord,” a song so powerful itself that we were ready to blitz the world for Jesus.

“Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? I have heard you calling in the night. I will go, Lord, if you lead me.”

And then Parks ascended to the pulpit. I honestly can’t remember a word he said that night. But I’ll never forget his passion and the empathy in his voice when he talked about reaching lost people for Jesus.

Sent out

Our group of 99 young and eager missionaries spread out around the world shortly after that service. I went to Botswana for two years.

Returning to the U.S. in 1984, our Journeyman group reassembled at Glorieta Baptist Conference Center for Foreign Missions Week. That’s the second time I heard Parks preach and again, it felt like I was in a locker room getting ready to tackle the world for Christ.

I would hear him preach many more times in the coming years when he came to Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary where I was a student and then later served as director of public relations.

His impact on my life and thousands of other Southern Baptists is immeasurable. Even today, reflecting on the many times I heard him preach about missions, I realize the power of his passion for missions and how it affected me.

We’ve lost one of the greatest proponents and prophets of global missions with Parks’ death, but his influence surpasses his life on earth.

Scott Collins is interim editor of the Baptist Standard. The view expressed are those of the writer and do not represent the Baptist Standard.

In today’s news, the focus is often on economic sanctions, trade tariffs and currency fluctuations, neglecting the significant challenges faced by missionaries from the Global South due to political conflicts.

While debates continue about exports and changes in interest rates, missionaries from countries like Brazil, where I am from, disproportionately are affected in their daily lives. These individuals, who are dedicated to spreading the gospel and who already live sacrificially, find themselves caught up in global power struggles.

For instance, imagine a missionary from Brazil stationed in Europe, say in Portugal, France or Germany. They receive financial support in Brazilian currency, but their expenses for rent, groceries and transportation are in euros.

One euro currently equals nearly 6.5 Brazilian reais, up from 5 since August 2022, a 30 percent devaluation of the real amount due to trade disputes and political instability. That can make their monthly living costs unmanageable. Despite receiving the same support from backers in Brazil, the equivalent amount has now significantly less purchasing power in Europe.

This isn’t an isolated incident but a common challenge affecting many families sent from the Global South who are at the forefront of pioneering missions.

The unseen consequences

1. Forced return from the mission field:

Many missionaries quietly are going back to their home countries not because they lack calling, but because they can no longer meet basic needs.

2. Emotional and spiritual strain:

Fluctuating income, often without stable support systems, leads to isolation, fatigue and sometimes disillusionment.

3. Setbacks in evangelism:

Progress made in establishing churches is hindered. With missionaries leaving, entire communities lose the steady guidance they once had.

4. Dedication of the less privileged:

Ironically, some of the most committed contributors to global missions are not wealthy donors from the north but humble believers in the south. I have personally witnessed this. Widows, domestic workers, farmers and laborers from Brazil give generously not out of abundance but out of faith.

It brings to mind the church in Philippi that Paul praised for giving beyond their means joyfully and in partnership for the gospel. He didn’t just receive financial help, but also companionship, trust and shared mission.

To churches:

1. Recognize the reality: Mission work is no longer solely from north to south. The south is rising and needs ongoing, specific support.
2. Review your financial approaches: Consider options like providing donations tied to the dollar or euro, emergency relief funds or financial education for your missionary partners.
3. Be an advocate: Raise awareness among your circles about this injustice. Trade disputes and currency policies affect spiritual endeavors too.

The Great Commission is influenced by global politics, but it can be strengthened through global cooperation. If we truly believe in a unified body, we must show it.

When one member suffers, all members suffer. And when a missionary is forced to return due to currency devaluation, the entire mission field faces setbacks.

Jair Campos is a Baptist missionary, pastor, and leadership coach from Brazil serving in Portugal. He is the executive director of Missions Connex, a nonprofit connecting churches and individuals with frontline missionaries from the Global South. The views expressed are those of the writer and not necessarily those of the Baptist Standard.

I remember the moment the gospel came into my life. I was 16 years old when I surrendered my life to Jesus. It was a beautiful, unforgettable moment. But the story didn’t start with me. It began with my grandmother, Carmen. She was the first person in our family to give her life to Jesus.

She was also the first to disciple my brother and me. She taught us how to pray, how to memorize Scripture and how to walk with God. Years later, those seeds bore fruit. The word of God truly transforms lives.

Since that moment of encountering the gospel, my life has been a journey of spiritual growth. But I still remember how, when I understood the gospel for the first time, I couldn’t keep it to myself. I shared it with everyone around me. I wanted the world to know about the salvation Jesus offers—and that only through him can we be saved.

Over time, however, something began to shift.

It’s easy to become comfortable just going to church, enjoying fellowship with our brothers and sisters in Christ. And while that community is beautiful and biblical, “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity” (Psalm 133:1). We can sometimes forget that there are still people out there who are lost, broken and heading toward eternity without Jesus.

It’s not that we stop caring—but comfort can distract us from the mission. The world outside our church walls is full of people who need hope, healing and truth. And we carry the only message that can truly save.

I’ve read articles and books about why many believers don’t share their faith. Some common reasons are fear, not knowing what to say, or feeling unqualified. But one reason that deeply impacted me was this: a lack of empathy within our churches.

All of these are real and valid challenges. But they lead me to ask: What gospel have we truly believed?

Have we embraced the soft, convenient version that society presents—or the gospel of the Bible that tells us we were once lost, headed to hell, and rescued only by the grace of God through Jesus Christ?

That’s why I want to share three biblical reasons why we must share the gospel:

1. Because we were headed for hell without Jesus.

Romans 6:23: “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Without Christ’s redemptive grace, you and I had a destination: eternal separation from God. If we truly believe that Jesus saved us from both physical and spiritual death, shouldn’t that fill us with urgency and compassion?

There are billions of people walking toward eternity without Christ. They need someone to tell them that there’s a God who saves, who transforms, who sets free.

2. Because it’s a command, not a suggestion.

Matthew 28:19–20: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” 

This is not a task given only to pastors, missionaries or evangelists. It is a mandate for every follower of Jesus.

Sharing the gospel is not optional. It’s a call to obedience, love and bold faith—empowered by the Holy Spirit. We were not saved to keep the good news to ourselves. Jesus saved us so we would point others to him.

3. Because the harvest is plentiful.

Carlos is a man from Cuba. He was born and raised in a family and culture where God was distant and faith was almost nonexistent. Growing up under a communist regime, his dreams were few and life was marked by struggle, sin and deep emotional pain. At one point, he even felt like ending his life.

Eventually, Carlos made it to the United States, where someone invited him to church. He wanted to seek God but didn’t know how. Sadly, the church he first attended led him not to Jesus, but to religious rituals, saints and traditions that distracted him from the gospel. He learned more about religious figures than about the savior.

Then, one day, someone invited him to a different kind of church. With hope in his heart, Carlos went and everything changed. Someone took the time to guide him and introduce him to Jesus.

“When I used to read the Bible, I didn’t understand anything. It frustrated me. I would give up and read books about saints instead. But now, every Sunday I listen at church, and I understand. I understand the word [of God], and I feel loved. That makes me happy. Jesus forgave me and saved me.” — Carlos

Today, Carlos shares Jesus at his workplace and he’s praying that one day his entire family will come to know Christ.

The harvest is plentiful. The laborers are few.

“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore, pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest” (Matthew 9:37–38, ESV).

I pray that you and I can be the answer to that prayer—willing, faithful and ready to labor in his harvest.

There are people like Carlos all around us ready to receive, if only someone would speak.

Sharing the gospel isn’t just for preachers—it’s for all of us. It is the mission of everyone who claims to follow Christ.

We are responsible to share the gospel and make disciples. God is responsible for the results.

Let’s not keep silent. Let’s be bold. Let’s remember where we were before Jesus saved us and let that fuel our passion to reach others.

Because someone once did it for us.

Yamileth Gúzman Lopez is a River Ministry missionary, a graduate of Baptist University of the Américas and a member of the Baptist Standard board of directors.

I love churches. I love church buildings. I love to be in the house of the Lord when his people gather to worship him.

We come from different backgrounds and situations, but at least one time per week, we come with a single, sole purpose – to see the Lord, to love him, to sing to him, to hear from him, to be loved on by him. We were hardwired at our creation to glorify and commune with him.

The church building is the location where this happens weekly. Yes, we can come to see him with others by the side of a river, or in a harvested field, or on the shore of a lake. Jesus ministered in these places.

Revivals of old were held in such locations when there were so many people seeking the Lord that no building could hold them. The Whitefield and Wesley revivals in the U.S. come to mind.

Once full, now less so

Revivals, movements of God, have often caused people to come together and build these buildings to have a place to seek the Lord out of the elements.

Fine architects were hired for some. For others, farmers came together and raised a building like they would raise a barn or their homes as a community. Some were erected in a matter of weeks, where other sanctuaries like those in Europe took over 100 years to build. Some are ornate. Some are simple.

What grieves me is that a few buildings are full, but most are empty. My trips to Europe have shown this—a church drain if you will.

When you visit some of these historic cities, no doubt you will see glorious, spectacular edifices, churches of old. People make a point to tour them, to walk through them slowly looking at the grandeur all around. Brochures are given with the history of the building, when and how it was constructed, how long each took, the man-hours detailed along with the expense.

But visit these hallowed places on a Sunday morning. What do you see? A janitor pushing a broom. In churches that once hosted thousands for worship, now maybe five or 10 people come.

Imagine Reliant Stadium in Houston where the Texans play. Thousands come to cheer for their team. Imagine years from now, football as only a memory.

In places that once held 60,000 to 80,000 people, finding on game day, 10 or 12 people milling around, taking note of the artificial grass where young, rich men once played, the vendor stalls where food was purchased, shops where game-day jerseys were sold. Can you imagine it?

Go to the Coliseum in Rome where thousands gathered for entertainment and much worse. What is that place today? A tourist attraction where people go to say they have been there, visitors who try to imagine what the venue was like when in full-throttled activity. Now silent.

The building shows the need

In my weekly drive from Houston to my farm I see a lot of church buildings. Passing by the Heights, I see a church building that no longer holds worship but has been retrofitted into a wedding venue.

Going by Jersey Village, I see an old church building which now serves as the suburb’s city hall. The steeple was removed because people were offended by it. Passing through Tomball, I see an old church which is now used as an event center.

When I get near Hearne, an old church building is now a residence for a family. Between Hearne and Calvert, you will see a barn that was once a church.

Near Marlin, there is a church rotting to the ground—windows busted, front door off the hinges. I try to peer inside as I pass, nothing but darkness.

My wife visited our youngest daughter in North Carolina a few weeks ago. A restaurant moved two abandoned church buildings together—the larger one is the restaurant portion of the establishment and the smaller one is the bar. A woman was heard to say, as she entered the bar, which was once a church, “This is my kind of sanctuary.”

So, what should we do? Revitalize these old buildings? Claim them back for an unseen, disinterested congregation?

This article is not about buildings. It is about how we have left the Lord, so we no longer need places to come together to honor him. This is about the need for a radical, national revival.

The fate of a nation rests on it, as well as the eternity of millions. “Lord, please send a Great Awakening. We humbly pray, seeking your forgiveness.” 

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.

In a recent article I celebrated the magnificence of the pastoral life, and that is the prevailing sentiment of my life as a pastor.

But within the magnificence of this life is a pastoral burden carried by all pastors and their families. More pastors need to acknowledge this burden and all church members need to know about this shadow-side of ministry. So, I will attempt to give a quick glimpse here.

It’s always been hard

On a vacation to escape a particularly hard season of ministry, our family stopped at the battlefield where the Battle of Vicksburg had been fought.  I searched for the spot where my great-grandfather stood with the boys from his church during that horrific siege.

I understand that this subsistence farmer and Baptist preacher had walked with the boys from his church near Sikes, La., through Columbia and up the road to Vicksburg—around 125 miles. Anecdotal evidence indicates that many of the preachers were armed and lined up beside their boys that made up the Confederate defense against the Union forces led by General Ulysses S. Grant.

As I stood where my forbear stood on that battlefield, I remember thinking that his pastoral assignment was much more challenging than mine, but that the pastoral life has always been hard in some weeks, months, and even years.

I have never gone with the children of my churches when we sent them off to war. But I have experienced conflict in a church and will always carry with me the memories and emotional impact. Interpersonal conflict is one thing, but the conflict that can emerge and even erupt within a human system such as a church family is only one of the huge challenges a pastor faces.

A relentless rhythm

If there is one factor that drives more pastors from the pastoral life than conflict, it is the sheer relentlessness of the pastoral burden.

My moment of awareness came when a caring church member told me the pastoral pace and pressures looked relentless to him. I countered that he and others worked very hard and that all committed persons walked an arduous path.

He countered with this observation: “Pastor, you will notice that my family and I are gone one to two weekends a month several months a year, and I see you working 50 weeks and 50 weekends a year.”

The pastoral life is relentless for most pastors.  Now I know that some pastors are lazy and some find a rhythm that allows for many retreats and months on autopilot. But those pastors are in a small minority.  Most pastors experience a relentlessness of pastoral responsibility that wears down the strongest of us.

Many challenges

So, is that all? If I were designing a “scared straight” boot camp for young pastors I would address, among many topics, the conflict, the systemic tumult, the pull in so many directions, the stress on the family, the expertise required in several areas, the rebound from mistakes and misfires resulting from bad ideas, and on … and on.

If I were to go to the full extent of unpacking all dimensions of this sometimes-embattled calling, I would lead seminars I have designed and led on systemic pathologies and even evil plots that have unfolded among unsuspecting disciples. But that would be appropriate only for those who want to actually understand and do something about such situations.

A good and insightful friend of mine is soon to publish a much-needed book in which he deals with the unrealistic expectations of pastors. I needed that book when I started.  In my research on the pastoral life and talking with many pastors I have heard and seen the long-term effect of the pastoral burden and there are too many factors to mention briefly in this space.

The deaths

I will address one more area that wears as much on seasoned pastors as any factor I know. The deaths.

One of the pastors I most respect told me what keeps him up at night is “the cumulative effect of shared grief.”  Most seasoned pastors are under the burden of burying too many people they love deeply.

They live with compounded grief. They bury their dead but hold them in their hearts and vivid images are retained in the pastor’s memory like video running on an endless loop through their minds.

Pastoral orientation in the Bible

So, do pastors know what they are getting into? Do church members understand what they are doing in asking a pastor to bring a family and dive into their predicament?

I mentioned that the pastoral life has always been hard and any careful reader of scripture has observed the burden carried by such leaders of God’s peoples as Moses, Joshua, David, several of the prophets of ancient Israel and the Apostle Paul.

I will leave Job and our Lord Jesus for their own special consideration. The mantle that has fallen on the shepherds of God’s people sets the pastor on an arduous journey.

All young pastors would learn much by reading and reflecting on Jeremiah’s complaints, words I suspect took the lament movement in ancient Israel to another level ((Jeremiah 11:18 –12:6; 15:10-21; 17:14-18; 18:18-23; 20: 7-13; 20: 14 –18).

But the best primer on accepting the challenge of the pastoral journey is probably the entirety of Paul’s second letter to Timothy (see 2 Timothy 1: 8-10 and 11-12; 2:1-3, 8-10; 3: 10-12 and 4:5-6).

So why do it?  Why take up the mantel of the pastoral call?  Why join the Apostle Paul in “suffering for the gospel” ( 2 Timothy 1:8, NIV)?  And why stay with it?

Those are great questions we’ll discuss in the future.

Ron Cook is retired from the faculty of Truett Theological Seminary at Baylor University. He also served as pastor and interim pastor in several churches. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Mark Twain once opined, “If Christ were here now, there is one thing he would not be, a Christian.”

While Twain’s cynicism toward Christianity is well-documented and often harsh, he makes us pause, given the optics and the way some Christians act today. From the obscene sex abuse scandals to the way we treat each other, it makes you wonder.

I started my career at Buckner International on June 6, 1994. The D-Day date is purely coincidental.

Less than three months earlier, I was director of public relations at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, which was like being cruise director on the Titanic. When Russell Dilday was fired March 9, I was immediately called into a meeting with the new board chair.

What followed was a series of calamities too numerous to mention here. I was put on a very short leash in bumbling efforts to silence the messenger. I thought I’d seen and heard everything until the cover-up by trustees got worse every day.

I was told I was being watched, and when we put our house up for sale within two weeks, the person brought in to watch me asked the next day why we were selling. We lived on a cul-de-sac. Go figure.

I saw and heard things that were hard to believe. At one point, a religion reporter at a major newspaper who had become a friend told me Southern Baptists could teach Washington politicians a thing or two. I winced, even though I knew it was true.

At 35, after almost 10 years of being embroiled in Southern Baptist battles, I was cynical and disillusioned. I knew what Twain meant. My faith in Christ was strong, but I had lost all faith in denominational Baptists and to some degree my fellow believers.

And then the opportunity at Buckner came along.

Texas Baptist mentors like Tom Brannon, Presnall Wood and Toby Druin were instrumental in encouraging me to take the job. As Wood told me, “Scott, Texas Baptists need to hear Buckner stories.”

His words were prescient. As an editor and Texas Baptist statesman, Wood knew the stories of Buckner and other Texas Baptist care ministries could be a suave for so many wounds. But what neither of us knew was how telling those stories for 30 years would become my spiritual suave.

Pure and undefiled

Technically, Buckner doesn’t have a theme verse, but if it did, it would surely be James 1:27. I’ve never been inclined to get a tattoo, but if I did, that verse would be it.

“Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (NASB).

That would be a long tattoo. Instead of putting it on our arms, maybe we should tattoo it on our hearts.

Texas Baptists are at our best when we are distracted by doing good. James knew what he was saying when he told us to focus on the needs of the most helpless and defenseless in society. A few things happen.

When we do good

First, it’s what Jesus did. We follow the example of Jesus when we serve the most vulnerable in our world.

Jesus’s human care ministry was healing the sick and lame, feeding the hungry and welcoming the poor and disenfranchised.

James also knew when we focus on serving the vulnerable, we’re too busy doing good and we can’t find time for other things.

I’ve watched hundreds of volunteers putting a new pair of shoes on children through Buckner Shoes for Orphan Souls, and I’ve never heard them arguing theology or squabbling over doctrine. And as I’ve quipped before, no child has asked if they are receiving Baptist shoes.

Ask any volunteer with Texans on Mission doing mud-outs, clearing trees with chainsaws, or cooking and serving hot meals for people whose lives are devastated by disaster and you’ll find they’re too busy to fight each other or fight over denominational issues.

In fact, the only time that seems to happen in the New Testament is when Pharisees show up and criticize Jesus and his followers for doing good.

Another thing that happens when we’re doing good is we demonstrate the gospel to a lost and cynical world, proving skeptics like Twain wrong.

I serve as a greeter at my church’s monthly food distribution, welcoming people as they drive through the line and the food is put in their vehicles. I love the conversations I have with them, but even greater is seeing and feeling their appreciation for this ministry. Our neighbors know the type of church we are.

Serving and trusting

I’ve been around Baptist long enough to know simple answers rarely work. I’ve seen the worst of who we can be, so I’m not naïve either.

Along with focusing on pure and undefiled religion by serving the vulnerable, let’s consider another solution for our occasional if not ongoing differences.

Texas Baptists instituted a system of trusteeship decades ago to govern our affiliated ministries. While this system has its faults and weaknesses, it nonetheless offers an effective platform to address serious issues with deliberations.

While the trustee system vests the responsibility of the institution with the current trustees, it should also engender real trust with constituents and key stakeholders.

I’ve seen what happens when boards take on agendas not in the best interest of the institution, but more often, I’ve seen the effectiveness of boards when they function as they were intended.

It’s ironic after my experience with the Southwestern Seminary board that I would voice support for the trustee system. But if I can trust trustees at our Texas Baptist ministries, surely anyone can.

After 40 years in Texas Baptist life, I would like to see us give trustees (and regents) the opportunity to address issues. That does not eliminate involvement from concerned and even passionate stakeholders who are not on the board. To the contrary, it gives us people we can share our concerns with.

Our love for each other is shown in how we work together to answer difficult questions and solve problems we face together.

But Jesus taught us our love for our neighbor is just as important. Serving others in a Christlike way proves even Mark Twain wrong.

Scott Collins is the retired senior vice president of Communications at Buckner International and currently serves as interim editor of the Baptist Standard. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

CORRECTION: Typo corrected in quotation of James 1:27.

RE: Voices: Sad for Texas Baptists

I am shocked and saddened by the publication of Voices: Sad for Texas Baptists in the Baptist Standard. I am troubled both by the harsh accusations Mr. Currie makes in his article and by the decision to publish such a minority‑opinion piece. The carelessness on display is astonishing—especially in light of the fact that the BGCT, and the institutions historically tied to them, have for decades publicly affirmed a biblically faithful view of sexuality.

I believe most Texas Baptist churches, including mine, disagree with Currie’s opinions. I am particularly appalled by his suggestion that those who maintain the biblical definition of marriage and sexuality are not “truly Baptist.” Labeling anyone holding historic Christian convictions as “fundamentalists” is a weak ad hominem attack, seemingly intended more to provoke controversy than foster honest dialogue.

Commitment to the authority of Scripture has long been one of the defining marks of Baptists. While we also affirm the priesthood of all believers and the autonomy of the local church, manipulating these convictions to justify accepting unbiblical positions is a grave misuse—one that is both disingenuous and dangerous to our witness and unity. There are clear doctrinal boundaries within our Baptist heritage, and to suggest otherwise misunderstands our historic commitment to the authority of Scripture.

This goes beyond differences in biblical interpretation—at its heart, it is about faithfulness to what Scripture clearly teaches. It is not a secondary matter on which we can simply “agree to disagree.” Scripture is clear in its opposition to all sin, including sexual immorality. Overlooking or excusing sinful behavior in any capacity is an offense to God. As the Apostle Paul writes, “May it never be!”

Mr. Currie—and anyone else—has the right to his opinions; I understand that. I also understand public criticism of those who stand for biblical fidelity is persistent and nothing new. What makes this most disheartening is that it comes from within our own tent. This was not a call for dialogue—it was a javelin thrown at anyone who disagrees. It is divisive, manipulative and unnecessary—and that truly makes this a sad day for Texas Baptists.

Cameron Strange, lead pastor

Impact Church, Schertz

RE: Lawmaker calls redistricting exodus an act of faith

Redrawing boundaries for the purpose of representative districts has been a contested affair for the history of our republic. This human affair is broken, as is every other human affair.

I am not ambivalent to the injustices political parties perpetrate against the opposing party, but the most alarming and terrifying thing in the article “Lawmaker calls redistricting exodus an act of faith” was the idolatrous prayer: “But we joined together hand in hand and said a prayer to the power of love and its ability to give us strength and peace and comfort as we embark on this journey on behalf of our constituents and the people of Texas.”

Do we see this statement for the idolatry it is? We are to worship God alone, the one true creator God. We are also to worship him rightly. The second commandment is not a repeat of the first. The second commandment warns us to worship God correctly and to not create some image or idea to represent him.

To pray to the “power of love” is blasphemy. Praying to the “power of love” to give strength to withstand criticism and opposition is no different than praying to Ba’al.

Brothers and sisters, we may have differing opinions about taxes, immigration, property rights and other matters, but we worship God alone and he demands that we do so rightly. The direst spiritual struggle I see represented in this article is praying to the idol of the “power of love.”

If my representation in congress is magnified or diluted, God is still the one to whom I pray and the one who redeemed my lost soul. This ambiguous “power of love” god may sound acceptable to the world but is an abomination to God.

Mathew St. John, pastor

First Baptist Church, Anson

RE: Sad for Texas Baptists

In response to David Currie’s Voices article, Sad for Texas Baptists, I disagree with the premise of his argument. The hermeneutical gymnastics undertaken by the generation of one’s great-grandfather to justify devaluing a people group to the point of making them property is not the same as refusing to do flips to appease the culture. The gymnasts in this ongoing culture war are those who are trying to convince us that the plain teaching of Scripture is anything but.

So, to Mr. Currie’s point, if the cost of widening the Texas Baptist tent comes at the expense of acceptance of a liberal theology so liberal that it balks at the established order set forth by our Creator. then it’s time to decide that the tent stakes move no further or admit the tent is not for revival but the circus and forget staking the tent down at all.

The Texas Baptist tent is either a tabernacle where we meet our One God in three persons who has made clear his perfect will on human sexuality and relationships, or we admit we want it to be large enough to fit three rings instead, and we call in the clowns.

Truth divides, and right truth divides rightly. I cannot perceive the hearts of men as Mr. Currie evidently can, but I know that for most of us, we don’t fear or hate the LGBTQ+ community. We love God, and so we love them enough to say that to enter into his tent, one must love him more than one’s sin.

To mix analogies, the gardener rips and keeps out weeds from the garden, not because of hatred of weeds, but out of love for the roses. We, too, must choose what grows or goes.

Nathan Feinberg, pastor

Adamsville Baptist Church, Lampasas

As I’ve read the back-and-forth about Baylor University turning down a grant from the Baugh Foundation regarding a study that desired to nudge churches to “courageously” embrace those who see LGBTQIA+ as a biblically allowable lifestyle, I have been mostly encouraged— encouraged about what the Baptist General Convention of Texas (BGCT) continues to stand for in our present culture.

All of our BGCT-affiliated and related universities state in their beliefs and policies that marriage and sexual intimacy are designed solely for the covenant marriage relationship of a man and a woman. The BGCT (Texas Baptists) itself considers any sexual relationship outside of this definition, including same-sex relationships and adultery, to be outside of God’s intended, biblical design. This stance is based on Scripture’s interpretation and application and has been affirmed through many resolutions and motions passed at the conventions and BGCT Executive Board meetings over several decades.

Looking at our goal

Back in 2016, a high estimation of Scripture was awakened in many pastors and leaders in the BGCT, and it caused a movement that desired to honor biblical sexual ethics no matter the culture’s redefining of them and the ever-growing acceptance of alternative lifestyles including LGBTQIA+.

David Currie’s opinion piece in the Baptist Standard Voices: Sad for Texas Baptists was well written by a good man with deep convictions. However, I submit that he missed a very obvious point, namely, that both sides of this particular argument say, “I’m right, you’re wrong. and if you don’t agree with me, you don’t believe the Bible.” And if conservatives and progressives are saying that same sentence regarding opposing views on sexual ethics and biblically permissible lifestyles, we have reached an impasse in cooperation.

But cooperation isn’t the highest goal. Fidelity to God’s word is! Freedom of personal conviction isn’t the noblest virtue. Adherence to God’s standard is! Historic Baptist principles cause us to cling tightly to God’s best, God’s order and God’s word, even with a swelling tide that says those are archaic, non-inclusive, and too small a tent.

An inward look at beliefs

You can add biblical sexual ethics to the list of blood atonement to satisfy God’s wrath, the flawless nature of God’s word, a literal hell, salvation through Christ’s cross alone and abortion that cause a no-man’s-land between conservatives and progressives. Both sides can and certainly should be kind to one another, love one another, pray for one another, and converse with one another. However, the six dividers above are not reconciliatory topics.

Currie proverbially shoots himself in the foot when he himself writes in his op-ed that the Baptist tent is not big enough for those leading in the Southern Baptist Convention, for those who believe a homosexual-affirming church is not in lock-step with the BGCT, for those who convictionally are complementarian in church leadership, and for those who believe sexual activity outside of a man and woman marriage is sin. I just described, I believe, the majority of Texas Baptists who hold several of those positions … and Currie just moved us out of his tent!

I applaud the BGCT in the conserving of their beliefs regarding biblical sexual ethics, and I applaud Baylor and President Linda Livingstone for making a difficult but good decision.

Certainty about sin is only error if wrong, but it’s biblical conviction if grounded in truth.

John Durham is the senior pastor of Highland Baptist Church, Waco, Texas. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.