“What the world needs now
is love, sweet love.
It’s the only thing
that there’s just
too little of.”

I don’t argue with these lyrics Jackie DeShannon made famous.

I do think the world needs a particular expression of love right now. The world—and most everything in it, including the church—needs reconciliation.

Reconciliation in Scripture

I’m serving two roles this week—editor of the Baptist Standard and camp pastor for our church’s student ministry.

Baptist Standard Publishing’s three core commitments are, first, the redeeming and reconciling work of Jesus Christ, and then, historic Baptist principles and responsible journalism.

The theme verse for our student camp is 2 Corinthians 5:17—“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here.”

The verse following, 2 Corinthians 5:18, reads: “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.”

We spent time this morning meditating on Colossians 1:15-20, the end of which states: “For God was pleased … through him [Christ] to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (vs. 19-20).

Studying reconciliation

Paul declares the new creation results from Christ reconciling all things to God. Paul also declares God gives “us the ministry of reconciliation.” So, I guided our students through a study of the verb “to reconcile” and the noun “reconciliation” so they have a stronger understanding of the concept and its significance—since it’s to be our ministry.

Our students learned how to use an interlinear Bible, Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance, biblical commentaries and other resources to study Greek terms in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, to understand those terms in context, to think theologically with Paul and Scripture and each other, and to apply all of it in real time.

This is where you say, “Amen!”

Yes, these are students age 12 to 18 engaging in this level of biblical study. For those who wonder if youth have any interest in studying the Bible, who wonder if youth take such study seriously, if youth want to grow and mature in Christ, I tell you, our God is the God of hope—not just idealized, but also realized.

Again, can I get an “Amen?”

We learned “to reconcile” involves a decisive change. In the context of Scripture, that decisive change is between two or more people, namely, a change in the nature of their relationship to each other, and most especially, a positive change in a person’s relationship to God. “To reconcile” describes changing a relationship “from enmity to friendship.” It means restoring a broken relationship.

How great, that though we once were enemies toward God, God didn’t want that kind of relationship with us, but sent Jesus to effect the change in that hostile relationship through his own death, not ours, so we can enjoy peace with God forever! That’s reconciliation.

Surely, you can shout, “Amen” to that.

And God gives us this ministry. Incredible.

Meditating on reconciliation

We have spent hours meditating on reconciliation this week, because this wonder called reconciliation elicits awe and joy in those who receive it. As much as the students understood the concept of reconciliation and being reconciled, it’s probably more accurate to say the adults were more in awe of it than the youth, but that’s no slight against the youth.

We come to marvel at reconciliation when we are fully aware how broken the world and we who inhabit it are. So, we spent some time studying a couple examples of brokenness—the woman at the well (John 4) and the demon-possessed Gerasene man (Luke 8:26-39).

The students acted out both stories and learned Jesus restored each person to themselves, to God and to their communities. In each story, reconciliation reached beyond the individual’s personal, spiritual and mental life. It reached into their community, their corner of the world.

Also, in each story, the person Jesus reconciled—the woman at the well, the demon-possessed man—became a minister of reconciliation. One did so without being instructed. The other was sent to tell what God had done. Neither had formal training. Neither had become mature disciples. That by itself is worthy of our meditation.

And our meditation should move us beyond meditating, because ours is not to think about reconciliation. Ours, as those reconciled to God in and by Jesus, is to engage in the ministry—the service—of reconciliation.

Brokenness is everywhere in our world. This week, our students studied that Jesus repairs, restores, reconciles brokenness, not just inside us and not just between us and God, but as Paul puts it, in “all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven.”

This is our ministry. Our world needs it. Are we doing it?

Practicing reconciliation

A world full of broken relationships needs the ministry of reconciliation—the mending of relationships.

A world at war with itself, whether through nature or manmade weapons, needs the ministry of reconciliation—the restoring to the wholeness of God’s creation intent.

Reconciliation—that specific expression of God’s love for creation—is what the world needs now. But all too often, we who have been reconciled rehearse disrepair.

In 1988, Joel Gregory—then-pastor of Travis Avenue Baptist Church in Fort Worth—likened this practice of disrepair to a stone mason disassembling a treasured castle to build the protective stone wall around it. It took time to build that wall—one-stone-at-a-time kind of time. There were thousands of opportunities to stop and go the other way.

We, too, have thousands of opportunities to repent from our disassembling and to turn to the ministry of repair, restoration, reconciliation. And if we believe even half of what we say about what Jesus did for us in his death, burial and resurrection, we won’t be able to stop ourselves from running back to town, so to speak, excitedly calling others to receive reconciliation for themselves. That’s what the world needs from us now.

The world needs it in our families, our neighborhoods, our schools, our workplaces, our governments, our economy, our culture, even in our churches. It already has begun in Jesus, and we must carry it forward, for this is our call:

“The ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God” (2 Corinthians 5:18-20).

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.

RE: Editorial: Tiny fraction of Baptists deciding for the whole

Thanks for the message of this article. It was needed. Here are a few more numbers.

The maximum number of messengers any Southern Baptist church can send to the Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting is 12, but only if they meet all criteria in Article III of the SBC Constitution.

So, at best, the maximum number of messengers that possibly could attend the meeting is 562,512. Can you imagine? So, the highest possible representative segment of the 12 million-plus SBC membership is only 4.4 percent.

The 10,599 registered messengers to the 2025 SBC annual meeting represent 1.8 percent of the maximum possible number of messengers.

I think the most troublesome conclusion in your article is only 6 percent of SBC churches sent messengers to the 2025 annual meeting. That’s sad.

I’m curious what the highest percentage ever has been. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get to at least 25 percent? But then, that would be almost 12,000 if every church sent one person.

Dustin Slaton, pastor
First Baptist Church, Round Rock, Texas

‘A people of unclean lips’

The Bible says, “Let no filthy, corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth.” From the Oval Office, Pentagon and halls of Congress, to playgrounds, the vilest, filthiest, “corrupt communication” spews forth (Ephesians 4:29; Colossians 3:8 KJV).

Americans are “a people of unclean lips” with “mouths full of cursing”—males/females, Democrats/Republicans, old/young, unbelievers/professing Christians. Profane language permeates TV, internet, movies, music, commercials, radio talk shows, bumper stickers, comics, greeting cards—even pulpits (Isaiah 6:5; Jeremiah 23:10; Romans 3:13-14; James 3:2-12).

Irreverently using God’s name is so popular that acronyms abound, including names of businesses—such as OMG! Tacos, Shoes, Nails and more.

“O, Lord, thou only art holy.” “Holy and reverend is his name.” Many join God’s holiness with the vilest things. “The foolish people have blasphemed” and “profaned thy holy name” (Leviticus 22:32; Psalms 74:18; 111:9; Revelation 4:8; 15:4).

Others take God’s name and attributes in vain unthinkingly with euphemisms—My Goodness, Good Lord, Gee (Jesus), Gosh, Golly, Gracious, Mercy and others (Exodus 34:5-7).

God’s Third Commandment warns, “Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain; for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain” (Exodus 20:7).

The Lord Jesus Christ, “who made man’s mouth” and created “language” said: “Let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay. Whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil.” “Swear not at all.” “Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment” (Genesis 11:1-9; Exodus 4:11; Matthew 5:34,37; 12:36-37).

“Let the words of my mouth” “be acceptable in thy sight, oh LORD,” “my Redeemer” (Psalms 19:14; 71:15).

Michael W. Ellis
Belton, Texas

“You never know what it’s gonna change
But it’ll always leave a mark
That’s the thing about praise”

(Benjamin William Hastings and Blessing Offor, “That’s the Thing About Praise”)

Scores of books and articles have been written to explain the role worship plays in the journey of individual disciples and in the life of the church. But rather than taking that approach to explaining the importance of worship, I would like to share a few episodes from my own journey with Christ.

I hope these episodes will encourage worship leaders in the midst of what can be a thankless job, remind pastors to support those in their worship ministries, and inspire believers to invest themselves—vocationally and devotionally—in the discipline of worship.

Beauty and heart

Growing up in a small, rural church as I did, I was around singing my entire life. My mother sang. My sister sang. We sang hymns in church. But most of this singing did nothing to stir my soul.

Part of the reason is, like most rural Baptist congregations of the time, my church had not yet learned to sing a dialect—to borrow language from pastor and church historian Dennis Wiles—I could call my own.

But there was a deeper problem. Our little congregation tried hard, but there was precious little beauty in its worship services.

I want to invite you to experience something through the eyes of my adolescent heart. I stand in the brand-new worship center of a historic Baptist church camp in Siloam Springs, Ark.

As I look around, I see an aesthetically pleasing, well-lit and acoustically sound space with views of the surrounding trees and the night sky. There are a thousand teenagers just like me, young men and women thirsty for something real, hungering for even just a taste of Christ’s presence.

On this night, we are introduced to “Shout to the Lord.” More than 30 years later, this song is known almost universally by Christians around the world, but back then, it was fresh and new. As we slowly pick up the words and tune, something amazing happens.

There isn’t a scrap of sheet music anywhere in that auditorium, at least among the worshipers. And yet, layer after layer of harmony emerges, each performed with astonishing clarity.

The high, sweet voices of sopranos and the rich intonations of tenors like me carry the melody, but mezzo sopranos and altos find their place, too. Then boys who never thought they could sing, or never thought singing was manly enough, find themselves carried away as their baritone, and even bass, voices join the chorus.

For the first time in my life, my heart bursts open, and tears flow down my face. I’ll never actually get to know most of these men and women, but for one night, for one week, we become one as we worship our risen King.

Just as importantly, I begin to understand God is not simply the author of conviction and judgment. He is the author of beauty, too. In that moment, men were men, and women were women, and yet they came together in a symphony of praise to the One who made them in his beautiful image and saved them through his beautiful Son.

I could not unsee what I saw that night. I could not unhear what I heard that night. The skeptic might chalk it all up to overactive amygdala, but that skepticism besmirches the beauty of that moment and misunderstands God’s purposes in creation.

The course of my life was altered by that experience of worship, and I don’t think God values it any less because I wasn’t a crusty old curmudgeon.

Unity and maturity

During the years that followed, worship was my refuge, my mentor and my comfort. I cherished my private moments of praise and lament, and I learned to lead congregations into the presence of God through song.

One summer, I sat in a field with tens of thousands of others as a parade of Christian bands played and sang. My seminary friends and I got to the concert early that morning, and we had a prime spot near the front of the assembled throng.

Behind us sat three teenage girls. They were not really that much younger than us, but it felt like a yawning chasm stood between us and them.

We spoke in low, relaxed tones about supposedly weighty matters, and we took frequent breaks from the broiling Texas heat. They, by contrast, talked incessantly. I don’t remember them moving all day. They just talked nonstop—no matter what band was on the stage.

Late that afternoon, it was Twila Paris’ turn to try and draw the attention of sweaty, tired people as they milled around looking for something cold to drink. Or there were the “kids” who, like our teenage companions, had more energy than sense.

For us, this particular performer was of special interest, for we knew of her history as a writer of worship songs. At first, she only performed her latest adult contemporary hits. Then, something remarkable happened—just as it did in that climate-controlled, architecturally pleasing chapel years before.

The mood on the stage became more subdued, and the chords of a familiar tune filled the air. It was “We Will Glorify,” and with the first note, the chattering behind us ceased. And then, those adolescent voices joined perhaps 70,000 or more others, covenanting together to “glorify the Lamb.”

There aren’t enough of those kinds of events. In that field, people from every race, denomination and generation joined their hearts as well as their voices. For one precious moment, unity was found. And in its shadow, three adolescent girls grew up a little. So did some seminary students.

Suffering and comfort

Worship gave me language to express my longings for the good things of God, and it coaxed me along toward spiritual maturity. But more often than anything else, I have experienced worship as a faithful, tender companion in suffering.

Cindy Morgan’s “I Will Be Free” was not, as far as I know, used in congregational worship, but its use in my private experiences of God’s presence carried me through times of deep personal pain.

Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Be Still” and Chris Tomlin’s “Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)” ministered to my family in the aftermath of my uncle’s suicide.

“The Goodness of God” was an anthem for my wife and me after she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

And Barlow Girl’s “Never Alone,” along with Cory Asbury’s “Reckless Love” and “Egypt,” helped me reinterpret my suffering as an arena for the expression of God’s fathomless love rather than as evidence of God’s disavowal of me and disdain for my pain.

But if there is one experience that exemplifies how God’s mercy has been expressed to me in worship, it is an event that occurred after a cancer support group meeting in the fall of 2022.

My wife and I walked out of the meeting, only to discover the church where the group met was having a praise night in the sanctuary. We walked in and immediately joined our voices with hundreds of others, many of whom had become precious to us during and after our time at that church.

They were singing Phil Wickham’s “Living Hope,” and before we knew it, we were crying and lifting our hands, just as we also lifted our voices.

I’ll never forget being embraced by a retired Air Force officer after the service, who loved us enough to add his tears to our own. My wife never will forget the encouragement she received from the pastor’s wife, who forcefully declared her soul-rending diagnosis would not end her life.

God and us

Sometimes, I hear pastors and theologians browbeating their audience with the dictum, “Worship is not about you.”

At one level, that certainly is true. We obey the psalmist’s exhortation to “enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise” (Psalm 100:4), because God is God and God is worthy.

Nevertheless, I fear, in our zeal to combat the narcissism so rampant in our culture and in our churches, we have misrepresented both God and worship.

God is love, which means God is always and eternally concerned about those whom he created. Worship is our opportunity to bring not only our praise, not only our lament, but also our whole selves into God’s presence. And when we do that, we should not be surprised when God does many beautiful and surprising things in, through and for us.

Wade Berry is pastor of Second Baptist Church in Ranger and has been a 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.

Many retirees—even if admitting only to slowing down to a lower gear—have a difficult time finding rocking chairs that fit.

Some don’t even try. Count me in that group, with entry into my 89th year now but weeks away.

A credo for many is choosing to “wear out” instead of “rust out,” and a sliver of potential retirees insists on the continuance of productivity and a commitment as fulfillment of their biblical obedience to feed the hungry.

One such man is Joshua Potter, an educator who spent 30 years in a teaching and coaching career in Texas high schools.

He’s now involved in the mortgage loan field, but a growing passion is sharing a simple concept about feeding the hungry.

Feeding the hungry body

Josh and Karla, his wife of 36 years and also a retired teacher, have developed a food giveaway method they hope will be duplicated throughout Texas and perhaps beyond. They’re distributing “hungry bags,” kept in their vehicles at all times. Recipients typically are homeless people, hoisting “will-work-for-food” signs at intersections.

“Our ‘Hungry Bag’ initiative is not for everyone,” Josh explains. “An easy ‘out’ is to think these folks to be beggars seeking money for alcohol and/or drugs, and a few likely are. But a high percentage are indeed hungry.”

He went on to say he and Karla have seen hundreds of hungry students wherever they’ve taught across the years—Kemp, Brenham, Angleton, Jacksboro, New Caney and Van—somber evidence the poor are with us always.

Since late last year, the Potters, children Seth and Sarah and their mates, as well as four grandchildren, fill “hungry bags,” a family ministry of food for both body and soul.

Feeding the hungry soul

Their intent is to raise awareness of drastically increasing food deprivation. “How could it be any simpler than handing these folks a brown paper bag that includes Scriptures stapled to the top?”

One reads: “This poor man called, and the Lord heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them. Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him” (Psalm 34:6-8).

Inside the bags are small Bibles, a 60-second meal called “Hormel Compleats” and bottled water. The project has been endorsed by fellow worshipers at Van First Baptist Church.

“I’m hoping and praying that retired educators will share this idea with their churches and begin in earnest,” Potter said.

He emphasizes common sense must prevail, and some people may not feel comfortable rolling down their windows to hand out the bags. He mentioned one alternative is to leave bags at vacant intersections. “They will be picked up,” he assured.

Who knows? Maybe entire congregations will see fit to help feed the hungry in this manner. One thing is for sure: They’ll always be with us.

That Josh has focused on this project is no surprise. I knew him and his brother, Jason—also an alumnus of Howard Payne University—during my tenure there as president.

Both “bootstrap pullers,” they were reared during most of their public school years in Cisco by an aunt and uncle. Both were outstanding student athletes, as they were later at HPU. Josh is the kind of Christian leader whose influence meant much to parents whose children were entrusted to his tutelage.

Teaching life first

Josh taught life first, ahead of subject content and football. I could not admire him more.

“Hungry Bags” could be filled and distributed by the tens of thousands, not only by retired educators, but also by others still in the work force. Maybe you should participate, and/or pass the idea along. The field is white already unto harvest.

Don Newbury, retired president of Howard Payne University, writes weekly and speaks regularly. This article is adapted from his regular column, ‘The Idle American.’ Newbury can be contacted via email: newbury@speakerdoc.com; phone: (817) 447-3872; Twitter: @donnewbury and Facebook: Don Newbury. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author. Published by permission.

Los líderes de la educación superior en Estados Unidos están trabajando con diligencia para hacer que sus instituciones respondan a las realidades demográficas. Una de esas realidades es el crecimiento de la población hispana.

Barry Creamer, presidente de Criswell College—institución en la que sirvo como vicepresidente de asuntos estudiantiles y comunicaciones, así como decano de estudiantes—ha dicho: “La misión de Criswell College es capacitar líderes cristianos para servir en toda la sociedad. Hace varios años, al comparar el 9  por ciento de nuestros estudiantes que eran hispanos con el 40  por ciento de nuestra sociedad inmediata que lo era, supimos que estábamos quedándonos cortos respecto de nuestra propia misión.”

En Criswell College, el compromiso con la causa de servir a más estudiantes hispanos no es solo aspiracional; es medible. En los últimos seis años, nuestra población estudiantil hispana ha crecido del 9  por ciento al 25  por ciento, lo que nos ha convertido oficialmente en una Institución de Servicio Hispano (Hispanic-Serving Institution).

Este crecimiento ha venido acompañado de una expansión deliberada de la representación hispana entre nuestro personal, en niveles ejecutivos, medios y de entrada. En conjunto, estos esfuerzos nos colocan en una posición privilegiada para servir, orientar y empoderar de manera efectiva al grupo demográfico de más rápido crecimiento en Estados Unidos.

Criswell College ha contado con el apoyo de HACU (Asociación de Colegios y Universidades) para “desarrollar liderazgo y personal hispano”, lo que, según el presidente Creamer, “nos ha ayudado a nivelar el terreno, de modo que nuestra población estudiantil refleje mejor la totalidad de la sociedad a la que nos proponemos servir”.

Superando los retos

No obstante, nuestro trabajo colectivo no está exento de desafíos. Recientemente, el fiscal general de Tennessee, Jonathan Skrmetti, presentó una demanda cuestionando la legitimidad y equidad de los fondos federales asignados a las Instituciones de Servicio Hispano.

Como alguien que ha visto de primera mano el impacto transformador de estos fondos, debo expresar respetuosa pero firmemente cuán críticos son estos recursos.

El requisito principal para convertirse en una Institución de Servicio Hispano es que al menos el 25  por ciento del alumnado se identifique como hispano. Este umbral no excluye a otros; simplemente reconoce y apoya aquellas instituciones que han hecho esfuerzos intencionales para reclutar, retener y graduar estudiantes hispanos. No se trata de preferencia, sino de progreso.

La reciente demanda del fiscal general de Tennessee contra el Departamento de Educación de EE.UU. debilita décadas de avances hacia el desarrollo de liderazgo de estudiantes hispanos.

Las Instituciones de Servicio Hispano no son excluyentes; son respondedoras. Estas instituciones atienden a casi dos tercios de todos los estudiantes de pregrado hispanos en Estados Unidos, la mayoría de los cuales son los primeros en su familia en asistir a la universidad y provienen de entornos económicamente desfavorecidos.

La realidad

Las subvenciones federales a Instituciones de Servicio Hispano no desplazan a estudiantes de otros grupos, sino que empoderan a las instituciones para cerrar brechas de equidad, mejorar la culminación de títulos y reforzar la capacidad en comunidades con pocos recursos.

Solo en 2023, más de 228 millones de dólares en subvenciones a estas instituciones permitieron impulsar iniciativas críticas en áreas como educación STEM, asesoramiento académico y desarrollo de infraestructura.

Estas subvenciones han permitido a instituciones como Criswell College ofrecer apoyo académico especializado, mejorar los resultados de éxito estudiantil y construir la infraestructura necesaria para preparar futuros líderes y ciudadanos que enriquecerán y servirán a nuestras comunidades.

Dado que los hispanos constituyen ahora casi el 20  por ciento de la población estadounidense—y siguen creciendo—esta inversión no solo es estratégica, sino esencial.

Empoderar a las instituciones académicas para servir a una población creciente no debe ser temido ni bloqueado, sino alentado.

Una perspectiva bíblica

Desde un punto de vista bíblico, las expectativas de Dios para su pueblo son claras: “¿Qué pide el Señor de ti, salvo que practiques la justicia, ames la misericordia y camines humildemente con tu Dios?” (Miqueas 6:8).

Esto no es una sugerencia; es una exigencia divina arraigada en el carácter de Dios.

En Criswell College, definimos a los líderes como cultivadores y pacificadores: personas que no solo piensan teológicamente, sino que también viven de forma redentora. En ese espíritu, creemos que la reciente demanda no es simplemente una cuestión de política pública, sino una prueba de convicción moral y espiritual.

Negar la oportunidad a una comunidad históricamente marginada es rechazar la justicia y la bondad que Miqueas nos llama a perseguir.

Luis Juárez es el vicepresidente de asuntos estudiantiles y comunicaciones, y decano de estudiantes en Criswell College, y exalumno de La Academia de Liderazgo (2024-2025) de HACU—Asociación de Colegios y Universidades. 

Leaders in American higher education are working diligently to make their institutions responsive to demographic realities. One of those realities is the growing Hispanic population.

Barry Creamer, president of Criswell College—the institution I serve as vice president of student affairs and communications and as dean of students—has said: “Criswell College’s mission is to equip Christian leaders to serve throughout society. Several years ago, when we compared the 9 percent of our students who were Hispanic with the 40 percent of our immediate society which was Hispanic, we knew we were falling short of our own mission.”

At Criswell College, the commitment to the cause of serving more Hispanic students is not just aspirational; it is measurable. Over the past six years, our Hispanic student population has grown from 9 percent to 25 percent, officially designating us as a Hispanic-Serving Institution.

This growth has been complemented by a deliberate expansion of Hispanic representation across our staff at the executive, mid-level and entry-level tiers. Together, these efforts place us in a prime position to serve, mentor and empower effectively the fastest-growing demographic in the United States.

Criswell College has been helped by the Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities “in developing Hispanic leadership and staff,” which “has helped us level the playing field, so our student population better reflects the whole of the society we seek to serve,” President Creamer has said.

Challenging the challenges

However, our collective work is not without challenges. Recently, Tennessee Attorney General Jonathan Skrmetti filed a complaint  questioning the legitimacy and equity of federal funding allocated to Hispanic-Serving Institutions.

As someone who has seen firsthand the transformative impact of this funding, I must express respectfully and firmly how critical these resources are.

The core requirement for becoming a Hispanic-Serving Institution is to have at least 25 percent of your student body identify as Hispanic. This threshold does not exclude others. It simply recognizes and supports those institutions that have made intentional efforts to recruit, retain and graduate Hispanic students. It’s not about preference; it’s about progress.

The recent complaint by the Tennessee attorney general against the U.S. Department of Education’s support for Hispanic-Serving Institutions undermines decades of progress toward leadership development for Hispanic students.

Hispanic-Serving Institutions are not exclusionary; they are responsive. These institutions serve nearly two-thirds of all Hispanic undergraduates in the United States, most of whom are first-generation college students from economically disadvantaged backgrounds.

The reality

Federal grants to Hispanic-Serving Institutions do not displace students from other groups but empower institutions to close equity gaps, improve degree completion and build capacity in under-resourced communities.

In 2023 alone, more than $228 million in grants to Hispanic-Serving Institutions enabled critical student success initiatives in areas like STEM education, academic advising and infrastructure development.

Federal grants to Hispanic-Serving Institutions have empowered institutions like Criswell College to provide tailored academic support, improve student success outcomes, and build the infrastructure necessary to prepare future leaders and citizens who will enrich and serve our communities.

Given that Hispanics now make up nearly 20 percent of the U.S. population—and growing—this investment not only is strategic, it also is essential.

Empowering academic institutions to serve more of a growing population should not be feared or blocked, but should be encouraged.

A biblical perspective

From a biblical standpoint, God’s expectations for his people are clear: “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8).

This is not a suggestion, it is a divine requirement rooted in God’s character.

At Criswell College, we define leaders as cultivators, laborers and peacemakers—people who not only think theologically, but also live redemptively. In that spirit, we believe the recent complaint is not simply a matter of public policy, but is a test of moral and spiritual conviction.

To deny opportunity to a historically underserved community is to reject the very justice and kindness Micah calls us to pursue.

Jesus described this type of leadership in the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10). It was the outsider, not the religious elite, who stopped, saw the brokenness and acted with compassion. He became the cultivator of healing, the laborer who took responsibility and the peacemaker who restored dignity where it had been stripped away.

In the same way, the Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities’ Leadership Academy cultivates and equips leaders from Hispanic backgrounds to walk into places of power, including Capitol Hill and college presidencies, often for the first time.

Now, more than ever, the Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities deserves our full support. It is one of the few national organizations boldly standing in the gap, developing leaders, influencing policy and calling our country to invest in its largest growing minority population.

Luis Juárez is the vice president of student affairs and communications and dean of students at Criswell College and a 2024-2025 alum of the Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities’ La Academia de Liderazgo/Leadership Academy.

Like many people, I was disappointed to hear the allegations against Contemporary Christian Music artist Michael Tait, formerly of dc Talk and the Newsboys.

Tait parted ways with the Newsboys in January 2025 without going into much detail as to why, but many have called it the worst kept secret in Nashville.

According to an investigation by the Roys Report, Tait is accused not only of using alcohol and drugs, but also of grooming and sexually assaulting young men.

After the allegations were made public, the fallout began. The Newsboys released their statements acknowledging the rumors but denying firsthand knowledge. Then, K-LOVE, America’s largest Christian radio network, made the decision to remove dc Talk and the Newsboys from their song rotations, at least temporarily.

On June 10, Michael Tait issued a public confession and apology. He confessed: “For some two decades I used and abused cocaine, consumed far too much alcohol, and at times touched men in an unwanted, sensual way. I am ashamed of my life choices and actions and make no excuses for them.”

Since his public confession, six more men have come forward with similar allegations, some claiming to be minors when the sexual abuse occurred.

Michael Tait’s influence

I have been a Michael Tait fan since at least 1990. The music of dc Talk and the Newsboys provided the soundtrack for much of my time in youth ministry and beyond. Their music was entertaining and engaging.

However, I would not consider the lyrics of their original songs to be divinely inspired. True, lyrically, the songs are positive, often Christ-centered, and good, sometimes even very good.

But these bands were not worship leaders called and employed by any church or religious body. They were not ordained ministers given the responsibility and accountability of shepherding any flock.

They were entertainers. They were part and parcel of the Contemporary Christian Music industry that made money—a lot of money. These entertainers also made money and saw their fame and influence increase over the decades.

I concede, their music was and is meaningful to me, and my testimony is God used their music in my life in a devotional sense. So, I don’t want to minimize their importance, but I don’t want to overstate their importance either.

What should I think about all this?

As a long-time fan who contributed to the growth and widespread success of the Contemporary Christian Music industry and of artists like Michael Tait, what am I supposed to think about all this?

I know how I feel. That is not my question. I want to know how I am supposed to think and reflect on many issues involved in this situation. The fallout will and should be felt by many. It should be serious. It should cause us to ask tough questions.

I would like to ask some of those questions. Before I do, I want to say I am not here to judge or condemn Michael Tait. I hope his confession is sincere and he gets the help he needs.

I also want to support those who come forward with allegations. People should be allowed to tell their own stories. I want them to feel heard. I want to respond with compassion.

Finally, I do not know what justice should or could look like for Michael Tait and everyone else involved. I do not know what repentance and accountability should look like, nor do I know whether restoration is possible or wise in this case.

Tough questions

At this point, I don’t have good answers, but I want to ask good questions. Here are some I think are worth asking.

1. I feel hurt and profound disappointment, as if what Michael Tait did involved me personally. Why is that? What did he mean or represent to me?

2. For what do I need to forgive Michael Tait?

3. Is it possible I have put Michael Tait and other CCM artists on a pedestal and held them to an unwarranted standard? If so, how did that happen? Did the CCM industry and parachurch organizations that made use of CCM artists encourage this kind of idol worship?

4. Should Michael Tait, dc Talk and the Newsboys be cancelled? Who should do that cancelling? Should I stop listening to their music? Why would I do that? If I applied those standards to all CCM or worship music, how many more singers, songwriters and worship leaders would I need to cancel on moral, ethical or scriptural grounds?

5. If a Christian songwriter/singer/artist has a moral failure of some kind or has less than ideal character, but the art he or she has produced is profoundly beautiful and useful in the work of the church or parachurch organizations, would it still be acceptable to make use of the art? Do the ends justify the means?

I haven’t seen anything where Michael Tait has come out of the closet as gay. But, if he does, and if he says he always has been gay, is it possible Michael was victimized by a CCM industry that likely knew he was gay but used him anyway to make money—for a very long time?

Reconsidering my role

As I said, I am still reflecting and praying over these things and don’t have good answers right now. I do think the time has come for me to reconsider my relationship as a Christian consumer to those who sell me Christian entertainment, including worship music. Like it or not, I may be part of the problem. Now, I should allow myself to face the music.

Scott Jones is senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Rockport and a member of the Baptist Standard board of directors. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

What follows, I acknowledge, will be a bit combative. I mean to spur, not to spar.

My mom has said more times than I can count, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.”

Yes, mom, and sometimes, a real sour pickle is what’s needed. And besides, I’m not out to catch flies today. I’m after something far more precious—one large part of the body of Christ.

That being said, my observation of now-decades in ministry among Baptists is the majority of Baptists don’t get too wrapped up in how their denomination functions, or even how their own church functions.

Oh, some in that majority of Baptists take time to criticize leadership and decisions made, to complain about this or that thing changing or not being to their liking.

But that majority of Baptists—for various reasons—often isn’t in the business meetings, isn’t part of the decision-making, and a large number are giving their best efforts elsewhere.

If you’re in that majority of Baptists and you’re reading this, bless you. Hang with me until the end of this editorial.

If you’re in the minority of Baptists fully vested in Baptist business and work and you’re reading this, bless you, too. But don’t think you’re (we’re) off the hook.

By the numbers

The following isn’t going to be scientific, exactly, but the numbers will be close enough to illustrate my point. I mean, why else would I choose these numbers?

I’m going to use the number of registered messengers to the 2025 Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting in Dallas as an example of why I say the majority of Baptists aren’t wrapped up in how their denomination functions. In this case, “the majority of Baptists” are Southern Baptists, but the principle holds true for all Baptists I know.

The SBC reported, by June 11, 10,599 messengers had registered their attendance at the 2025 SBC annual meeting. Messengers are sent by local SBC churches. The SBC reported 46,876 churches in 2024.

For the sake of argument, let’s assume each of those 10,599 messengers represented one church apiece for 10,599 churches. If that were true—and it’s not—then just shy of 23 percent of SBC churches would have been represented at the 2025 annual meeting.

Far fewer than even 8,000 churches actually were represented—2,648, as reported by Baptist Press, just shy of 6 percent of SBC churches.

Compared to the reported number of SBC church members in 2024—12,722,266—the 10,599 registered messengers were 0.08 percent of Southern Baptists. Hello!

Of the 10,599 messengers, 5,632—0.04 percent of Southern Baptists—voted on a constitutional amendment to bar from SBC membership any church that affirms, appoints or employs a woman as any kind of pastor or elder. And 60.74 percent of that number—3,421, or 0.027 percent of Southern Baptists—were in favor of the amendment. Double hello!

So, only a fraction of a fraction of Southern Baptists attended a meeting to vote on an amendment that supposedly is one of the most contentious issues in Baptist life today.

Not unusual

State convention annual meeting attendance fares better than the national convention, but attendees still are a minority of the whole.

Let’s start with the number of registered messengers from Texas who attended the 2025 SBC annual meeting—2,171. There are two state conventions in Texas represented in that number—the Baptist General Convention of Texas and the Southern Baptists of Texas Convention.

I’ll assume a generous 50/50+1 split of messengers between the BGCT and SBTC, since some churches are dually aligned with both state conventions—1,085 BGCT and 1,086 SBTC messengers, respectively.

Now, I’m going to shift the comparison. Let’s compare the two numbers from the national convention with the number of messengers attending their respective state convention annual meetings in 2024.

In 2024, 1,094 messengers attended the BGCT annual meeting, and 864 messengers attended the SBTC annual meeting. The numbers are roughly comparable. As I said, this isn’t exactly scientific; it’s illustrative.

The BGCT claims more than 5,300 churches, and the SBTC claims more than 2,800 churches. The point here is not which convention has more churches. For one thing, some churches are part of both state conventions. The point here is the level of involvement among Baptists.

As with my assumption about SBC messengers, if we assume annual meeting messengers to each state convention represent a single church apiece, then only 1,094 BGCT churches (about 20 percent) and 864 SBTC churches (31 percent) would have engaged in the business of their respective conventions—a minority of the whole in each case.

But, like the SBC, far fewer churches were represented at each state convention. Meaning, at the state level, only a fraction of a fraction of Baptists in Texas engage in denominational business.

It really is a sour pickle for some when looked at that way.

The whys

There are all kinds of reasons people don’t attend state or national conventions—or the business meetings of their local churches. Time, money and physical ability are the reasons stated most often. Apathy or lack of trust are at least as frequent but implied reasons.

Despite not attending meetings and giving the impression they don’t care, most Baptists really do care about certain things. They want Baptists to be seen and known for doing good in the world. They really care about people becoming followers of Jesus. They love baptisms.

They don’t like meetings, drama, controversy or shenanigans by their leaders. And they don’t like waste—especially wasting their time.

To the majority of Baptists who really do care but aren’t in the business, and who do have the time, money and physical ability to get involved, some of that business affects what you care about most. Don’t let the minority carry the day. If and when you can be there physically, be there.

If you don’t have the time, money or physical ability to be there, you still can make your positions clear to those making the official decisions—and then hold the decision-makers accountable.

To the minority of Baptists fully vested in Baptist business and work: Have we given the majority of Baptists the right reason to be more involved in Baptist business and work? Or are we so wrapped up in the formalities of running a denomination that we’ve lost sight of the whole point?

The point

The majority of Baptists do care. They care very much about the point, not so much about the formalities. The point of being Baptist is to love God and love people—to love God with our whole being and to love people as Jesus loves us.

And there’s the honey. The majority of Baptists know where the honey is. Too often, it’s not at our meetings. More often, it’s in one-on-one conversations and ministry moments outside our meetings. The minority of (us) Baptists so wrapped up in the formalities of running a denomination need to remember where the honey is.

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.

CORRECTION: Percentages have been corrected, thanks to the careful eye of a Baptist Standard reader.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The truth set free

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tell the truth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dividing walls

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

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

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

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

Delaying checkpoints

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

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

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

The Jesus I follow

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

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

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

A similar weight

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

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

We Palestinians carry a similar weight.

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

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

One with the other

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

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

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

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

Freedom for the captive

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

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

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

Christian solidarity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessing of other believers

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

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

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

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

Pastoral encouragement

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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