This year is our 140th anniversary as the Baptist General Convention of Texas. Those leaders and churches who first established the BGCT did so for the purpose of cooperating in evangelism, missions, benevolence, and Christian education.

Part of our legacy as Texas Baptists has to do with what we call institutions. By that we mean universities, seminaries, colleges, academies, hospitals, human care agencies, and others. Currently, Texas Baptists collaborate with 30 institutions and ministries.

This includes 15 educational institutions, five hospitals, four human care agencies, two financial services organizations, one news publication, two missions organizations, one ethics ministry, and one global Baptist body. This is in addition to Baptist encampments in Texas and local associations.

No other state convention relates to that many institutions. In fact, there are many national Baptist conventions that do not either. That makes Texas Baptists a very unique convention.

We believe these institutions and ministries are key partners in living out the Great Commandment and the Great Commission.

Historic scope of collaboration

Through Christian higher education, theological education, healing ministries, hospital chaplaincy, the care of vulnerable children and senior adults, the sharing of information, and engagement in missions, we are loving God, loving our neighbor, and making disciples.

Some of the institutions with which we cooperate are older than 140 years, such as Baylor University and Buckner International. Others were started by the BGCT.

Did you know Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary was started under the auspices of the BGCT in 1908?

During the first few years of the 20th century, San Marcos Baptist Academy (1907); Wayland Literary and Technical Institute, now Wayland Baptist University (1910); and the College of Marshall, now East Texas Baptist University (1912) were established. Many others were established during the rest of the 20th century.

See Leon McBeth’s Texas Baptists: A Sesquicentennial History to learn more about these and other Texas Baptist institutions.

Most, if not all, of the institutions Texas Baptists relate to have grown and matured in multiple ways. They have developed excellence in their mission and work. They have developed donors and grown their campuses. This evolution over the decades has led to multiple developments in the way the BGCT relates to them.

Collaborative relationships

The BGCT does not control nor own any of these institutions. They each have their own governing board. In some cases, the BGCT elects a simple majority of the institution’s trustees. In other cases, messengers elect a small minority.

Financial support from Texas Baptists varies according to the nature of the relationship and agreement. In some cases, the support consists of scholarships or advertising. In other cases, there is no financial support. And yet in others, the BGCT is the recipient of financial benefit.

That is another way in which Texas Baptists is different from many other state conventions. Our relationships are based on agreements between the organizations to collaborate for the sake of God’s kingdom. The Great Commandment and the Great Commission advance as we cooperate together.

When churches give through the Texas Baptists Cooperative Program, they get to have a part in these great ministries of evangelism, missions, benevolence, and education. We get to do more together for the glory of God.

That’s our legacy—140 years of loving God, loving people, and making disciples through education, human care, information, finances, and missions. Thank you for being a part of that.

Julio Guarneri is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas, known as Texas Baptists. Baptist Standard is the news publication referenced in paragraph three.

In my last opinion piece, I mentioned a concept—intellectual hospitality—that might be unfamiliar to some readers. I want to unpack the concept here and explain why I think it is relevant for our current political, social, theological, and evangelistic context.

Defining intellectual hospitality

Intellectual hospitality has been used by a wide range of writers to describe a disposition that welcomes others into our own mental and spiritual world. Such a disposition looks upon the narratives, questions, and convictions of others with openness and curiosity rather than suspicion and fear.

It recognizes we will disagree with the ways others interpret their experiences and construct their mental frameworks, but it sees these disagreements as opportunities to learn and grow.

To be clear, I use the term in an informal way, not intending to endorse or disavow the ways more disciplined writers construe this kind of hospitality. Nevertheless, I think the concept could be a helpful one as we try to engage a pluralistic society in a more wholesome and productive manner.

The utility of intellectual hospitality

The roots of my interest in intellectual hospitality run deep. I grew up as a culture warrior, but I also grew up with a temper and with a painful awareness my anger over political and moral issues put a strain on my relationships.

I knew I needed better models for handling conflict than I had, but I also knew I needed an intellectually defensible framework for guiding my conduct in public discourse.

So many people in my family and church took a combative approach to disagreement, and doing something different would bring me into conflict with these early shapers of my identity.

Many people in the same situation turn to civility as a descriptor of healthy public discourse, and it is not hard to understand why.

In his book Love Your Enemies, as well as in his Trinity Forum lectures, Harvard University economist Arthur Brooks argues civility is too low a standard for the Christian. For Brooks, treating others with anything less than the love Jesus demands is a betrayal of our faith and a danger to democracy.

I admit, sometimes Brooks rubs me the wrong way. Sometimes, I just want to give full vent to the rage that, in my own mind, is so well-deserved, and I don’t want some do-gooder egghead looking over my shoulder and judging my every word.

But whether I like it or not, Brooks is right. Even in the arena of intellectual combat, we are called to live out the high calling of God. Just as material hospitality has always been an essential part of the Christian ethic, so also welcoming the intellectual stranger and treating them the way we would want to be treated should be second nature to us.

Defending intellectual hospitality

Can we defend such a posture theologically? After all, as I observed in my last essay, Jesus’ rhetoric was often harsh by modern standards, and Paul could get pretty salty, too (see, for example, Galatians 3:1; 5:12).

Moreover, Brooks does not adequately address those instances where a person, an institution, or an ideology is completely eaten up with evil, and 2 Peter and 1 John are just two of the biblical books that condemn in the strongest terms those who distort the Christian faith.

Nevertheless, I am convinced we can defend the practice of intellectual hospitality on theological grounds.

First, all humans are created in the image of God. This means, among other things, all humans have the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual capacities to relate to God and to other people, to think critically about issues of importance, and to evaluate differing alternatives in terms of their conformity to the standards of righteousness and justice.

Doubtless, these capacities vary widely from person to person, which is why we must always practice discernment, a skill the Bible repeatedly recommends. Nevertheless, the fact God has made us in his image also means we are meant to figure out life together. We cannot do that if we do not listen to one another.

Second, humility is one of the most important virtues we can cultivate. In the intellectual arena, humility does not mean denying our own giftedness or de-emphasizing our own convictions. Sometimes, we are right, and retreating from what we know to be true only hurts our witness for Christ and our participation in the democratic process.

Rather, humility means properly assessing our knowledge vis-à-vis those with whom we are in dialogue. It means recognizing we are not the final authority in all truth, and our story is not the paradigmatic story for every human on earth.

Humility means being open to the expertise of others. It also means being sympathetic with their experiences as they describe their journey through a fallen and confusing world.

Intellectual habits matter

If you find all this talk about respecting others and listening with curiosity a little off-putting, please understand, I get where you are coming from.

Moreover, as a South African friend of mine observed more than 25 years ago, we Americans can be a little too sensitive to criticism and a little too quick to condemn good-faith efforts at constructive feedback.

Furthermore, I have some misgivings about my role in promoting intellectual hospitality. Those who know me well know I am not even close to a perfect representative of what I promote. There are still instances where my frustrations with those who can’t seem to “get with the program,” from my point of view, boil over.

Still, I am convinced we need a new approach to bearing witness in the public square. Whether we have access to the most influential platforms available in our society or only have the ear of those we love the most, we can all examine the habits that form our discourse.

Doing so will push some of us to be more courageous in speaking on behalf of the truth, but my guess is, some of us will need to recalibrate how we come to terms with and respond to disagreement. And some of us may even need to decide ahead of time that we are going to talk less and listen more.

The radical pluralism that characterizes our society and the substantive disagreements it produces do not mitigate the need for intellectual hospitality. They intensify that need.

We cannot afford to expend precious political and relational capital on things that do not matter. People need to know, when we clinch our fists and angrily demand action, it is for a good reason.

Most of all, we need to rebuild the trust our neighbors once had for those most publicly devoted to Christ, reminding them we really are committed to pursuing the truth and promoting the welfare of all.

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

Imagine a gift.

You open the door one morning, and there it is on your doorstep. You would think it’s another Amazon delivery, but Amazon delivers brown boxes with the blue smile on them.

This one is a white-wrapped box with a red ribbon.

You check your Ring camera. You see no one recorded making the delivery. Yet, sometime in the night, someone dropped the thing off on your front doorstep, so first thing that morning, you’d find it as you headed out for a new day.

You pick the gift up. You shake it gently. There seems to be several things inside the box. You pull it to your ear to make sure there is no ticking noise. You check your hands to make sure there is no white powder falling from it. Of course, you are suspicious.

There is no note on the gift. You look both ways outside your door. You then walk down the front sidewalk, wondering if you can catch a glimpse of some nice neighbor who dropped something off for you. But again, there was no one on the Ring camera.

Opening the gift

With this, you go back inside your house, carrying the white package with the red ribbon. You lay the gift on your kitchen table. You take some scissors and cut the red ribbon. You then begin to pull open the shiny white wrapping paper. Beneath, you see a box.

You take the scissors and cut the tape holding the box flaps shut. Inside are all kinds of little gifts—little in size, but not necessarily little in value.

What amazes you is every gift inside the box is what you have been wanting, things you have been praying for.

You cannot get over the kindness of the stranger who dropped off the box. But then again, this could not be from a stranger, for no stranger would know what you have been needing and wanting. No, this must be from a friend or a loving family member. But who?

You will ask around. You will gently investigate over the rest of the day. But more, you will enjoy the gifts you have received in that white box with red ribbon.

You are so grateful: “How did they know? And what great timing!”

The gift of every day

Every day is a gift from the Lord—white in purity, wrapped with a beautiful red ribbon sanctified by the blood of Jesus.

With each gift of a new day, there are blessings awaiting us: answers to prayers, help in time of need, acts of love, opportunities to serve, new things of God to discover, fellowship with the Lord and others, longings fulfilled, problems to work through to see God’s goodness once settled.

Every day is a gift from God. As we unwrap the gift minute by minute, blessings overflow.

I have been praying each morning as I picture that gift wrapped in white, tied with a red ribbon. I imagine, as I begin my mornings, the satisfaction and unbelievable joy I will feel come evening time.

The Lord is good. His mercy never ends. He is the giver of all good things.

“Lord, thank you for the gift of this new day. Help me to serve you in it, to walk with you through it. I cannot wait to see the blessings you have for me today. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”

Johnny Teague is the senior pastor of Church at the Cross in West Houston and the author of several books, including his newest Thomas Paine Returns with Common Sense. His website is johnnyteague.com. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Oh sing to the Lord a new song,
for he has done marvelous things!
(Psalm 98:1)

Baptists are known as singing people.

I am a product of the Black Baptist church tradition. My parents often said I began vocalizing melodies after church services even as a toddler. Church music is a major component of my DNA. It has always been my passion, aspiration, and applied formal training.

I began formal piano training at age 12. Musicians were expected to be able to play and lead hymns. Therefore, in my ambition, I set out to play every song in the 1940 Broadman Hymnal used by my church at that time.

I knew little or nothing of composition and poetic metrical forms, origins, narratives, and composers of the hymns. In the early years, it was simply a love for the melodic tones, harmonies, rhythms, and select lyrics of the hymns. As musical training advanced, so also did my understanding of church music, particularly the hymns of the church.

Hymn singing is biblical

Speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs.
(Ephesians 5:19; Colossians 3:16 NKJV)

Hymn singing is biblical. The Book of Psalms is the hymn book of the Bible. Psalms were used for worship in the Old Testament. They were also sung in the New Testament. Jesus sang psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. The early church sang hymns.

Paul and Silas sang hymns at midnight in a prison dungeon. While we do not know exactly what psalms were used, the Bible notes, “The prisoners were listening” (Acts 16).

The singing of hymns is not only biblical. It is also doctrinal.

Our emotions are expressed in the hymn texts and tunes.

Surely, we are privileged to lift our voices in praise to our great and awesome God, our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.

Rich faith heritage of hymns

Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess his name.
(Hebrews 13:15 NKJV).

There are more than half a million hymns, according to knowledgeable estimates. What a rich faith heritage has been handed down to the 21st-century body of Christ.

Most of us received our initial theological lessons from the texts of hymns. This is particularly true for African Americans. Our generations of worship were expressed through the oral folklore, messages of hymns, and the spirituals.

Although the earlier Baptist hymnals did not include many of our African American faith traditional music, except for several spirituals and hymns, our biblical and doctrinal heritage were built on this genre.

Black hymns, spirituals, anthems and gospels were important to worship, community, civic, and social gatherings of African American communities in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s.

Rev. Charles A. Tindley

The 1940 Broadman Hymnal and 1956 and 1975 Baptist Hymnal included several hymns of the late Rev. Charles Albert Tindley (1851-1933), the father of Black church hymnody.

While he was a prolific hymnist, only some of his songs were included: “Nothing Between,” “Stand By Me,” and “When the Morning Comes (By and By).”

During the 1950s and 60s, Tindley’s hymn composition “I’ll Overcome Some Day” was adopted by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The song’s title was changed to “We Shall Overcome” and became known as the clarion call of the Civil Rights Movement.

Tindley’s “Leave It There” (1916) continues in popularity in Black churches for devotional music.

Thomas A. Dorsey

Tindley and his songs greatly inspired and influenced the late Thomas A. Dorsey (1899-1993), the father of Gospel music, who revolutionized sacred music.

Dorsey’s most popular compositions were “Precious Lord Take My Hand,” “Peace in the Valley,” “When the Gates Swing Open,” “It’s the Highway to Heaven,” and many more.

His compositions and performances expanded the musical genre for countless African American artists, including Sam Cooke, James Cleveland, Mahalia Jackson, Lucie E. Campbell, Doris Akers, Rev. Clay Evans, Billy Preston, Rev. C.L. Franklin, Aretha Franklin, Shirley Ceasar, Dorothy Norwood, and thousands more.

Black national anthem

Modern hymnals such as 1991 and 2008 Baptist Hymnal included the Black national anthem “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” This song is rich in heritage.

The poem was written by James Weldon Johnson and set to music by his brother John Rosamond Johnson. A school performance celebrating President Abraham Lincoln’s birthday debuted the song on Feb. 12, 1900.

“Lift Every Voice and Sing” was sung for the inaugural founding of the NAACP in New York City on Feb. 12, 1909.

This is only the tip of the iceberg of Black hymnody and hymnists. There is much more depth found in the study and performing of the great hymns of African American composers.

Hymns as devotionals

I will sing praise with my spirit, but I will sing with my mind also.
(1 Corinthians 14:15b ESV)

I highly recommend the inclusion of the songs of the church as a part of daily Bible reading and personal devotionals.

Several songs by African American composers and included in the 1975, 1991, and 2008 Baptist Hymnal are a part of my personal, devotional, and testimonial experiences and musical repertoire.

The late Andrae Crouch (1942-2015) and several of his many compositions are found in modern hymnals. “Bless the Lord, O My Soul,” “The Blood Will Never Lose Its Power,” “My Tribute,” “Soon and Very Soon,” “I Don’t Know Why Jesus Loved Me,” and “Let the Church Say ‘Amen’” are church favorites internationally and globally.

Doris Akers’ (1923-1995) “There’s A Sweet, Sweet Spirit” is perhaps her most popular of the 500 compositions she published. The song was born out of a spontaneous prayer revival that originated during a regular choir rehearsal in Los Angeles in 1962.

That night, Doris was consumed by the thought of the Lord’s sweet, sweet Spirit. She got out of bed, picked up a pen and composition book, and began writing to completion the words and music, all in one sitting. The verses and chorus follow.

‘There’s a Sweet, Sweet Spirit’

There’s a Sweet, Sweet Spirit in this place;
And I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord.
There are sweet expressions on each face,
And I know that it’s the presence of the Lord.

There are blessings you cannot receive
Till you know Him in His fullness, and believe.
You’re the one to profit when you say,
“I am going to walk with Jesus all the way.”

Sweet Holy Spirit, Sweet Heavenly Dove,
You’re right here with us, Filling us with Your love.
And for these blessings, We lift our hearts in praise.
Without a doubt we’ll know that we have been revived
When we shall leave this place.

(Manna Music, Inc., copyright renewed, 1990)

*******

Dr. Roy Cotton Sr. is director of Texas Baptists’ Ambassador Program and has more than 60 years of church music experience. During college, he was the music chairman of the Baptist Student Union at the University of Texas. He is a graduate of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, served 10 years on the faculty of the Lucie E. Campbell Church Music Workshop of the National Baptist Convention USA, and was an adjunct professor of musicology and hymnology at the Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond, Va.

This year, political xenophobic attacks have focused once again on Muslim Americans—specifically, Sharia law.

In Texas, multiple candidates for U.S. Senate, governor, attorney general, and U.S. Representative have accused Muslim Americans of secretly attempting to enact an Islamic state, promote local control of cities, or seek to undermine Texas law.

Ultimately, these scare tactics, grounded in political expedient assumptions and prejudice, are false and harmful.

Meaning of ‘Sharia’

For a Muslim in America, “Sharia law” is not unlike what some might describe as religious orthodoxy for Christians, Jews, or any other faith.

“Sharia literally means ‘the way or path that leads to the source of water,’” Salih Sayilgan wrote in Exploring Islam: Theology and Spiritual Practice in America. For most Muslims, water is symbolic of spiritual peace or life.

Sharia, then, provides religious guidelines for how Muslims should live their lives ethically and through observance of their faith. Sharia is a spiritual practice, not a system of government for all to follow.

American Muslims oppose religious extremism at the same rate as Americans overall. Additionally, Muslims are quite clear in their teachings that they are to obey the law of the land. In the United States, that law is the U.S. Constitution. However, politicians have sought to exploit fears of this minority faith to procure votes.

Distorting Sharia for political gain would be akin to someone accusing a Christian candidate who claims to live biblically as having plans to stone children, ban certain foods, gouge out sinful eyes, or eat human flesh. These would be ridiculous claims and accusations that stem from proof-texting and misinterpreting Scripture.

The same thing is being done against our Muslim neighbors today.

We can disagree theologically, but we must always speak truthfully.

Political use of misrepresenting Islam

Politicians can afford to misrepresent Islamic teachings since Muslims account for only 2 percent of the population. It is political expediency to make this 2 percent into something sinister and scary in order to influence a majority of the other 98 percent. However, it is wrong to do so and bears false witness against our neighbors.

We must never let political power take advantage of the vulnerable, the oppressed, the minority, or the immigrant. As Christians, we should be on the forefront of the pushback against such untruths, standing in the gap for our Muslim neighbors. We must not reward this type of political malpractice by ignoring or dismissing the accusations as “just politics as usual.”

Unfortunately, when we look back through our history, these types of sordid attacks on minorities usually are politically effective. Whether the most recent xenophobic claim will succeed or not at the ballot box, the accusations against Muslim Americans run counter to truth, religious liberty, and acknowledging the Imago Dei in every human being.

False allegations threaten religious liberty

Baptists would be wise to reflect on how false allegations have impacted fellow Baptists in the past.

In 1774, Baptist ministers were imprisoned in Virginia for failing to conform to the laws in place in relation to tax payments for ministers of the established religious group. Baptists were accused of being a sect, as outsiders who were not assimilating to the established norm of society—some of the same attacks made against Muslims today.

Thankfully, James Madison* witnessed this assault on religious liberty, which compelled his later work on the “Virginia Declaration of Rights” and “Memorial and Remonstrance.” He was committed to protecting conscience and religious liberty, desiring to check governmental coercion and misuse of power against minority religious groups.

Madison’s willingness to stand up for a minority faith helped protect the free exercise of all faiths, leading to an enduring American legacy.

Our failure today to hold those accountable who spread false testimony against our Muslim neighbors imperils the present and future of religious liberty for all faiths.

Love our neighbor

Rather than participate in the fear of others and the misuse of power, American Christians should stand with the religious minority, the immigrant, the oppressed, and the persecuted. Not just in our words, but in our deeds. If we are silent in the face of distorted attacks against our neighbor, we fail to live out the fullness of the gospel.

As Erika Lee writes in America for Americans: “In both the past and the present, xenophobes have argued that immigrants are threats. But it is xenophobia, not immigration, that is our gravest threat today. It is time to reset the terms of the debate.”

Let’s speak truth to power and remember Jesus’ commands: Love God and love our neighbor. These commandments are not just for Sunday mornings, but for our political lives as well, not just for Christians we theologically agree with, but for all human beings.

Jack Goodyear is a professor of political science and a member of a Texas Baptist church. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

*******

* Joseph Loconte, “Faith and the Founding: The Influence of Religion on the Politics of James Madison,” Journal of Church and State, 2003.

The Ten Commandments are “ordered” by law to be posted in Texas public schools.

The intent? Because we supposedly “support Judeo-Christian values.”

Yet, the Ten Commandments are Mosaic, not Christian. Lawmakers intend Christian influence, which actually violates the intent of the Mosaic law that for 4,000 years was meant to be wholly followed—a whole package—not merely the Top 10.

While revered by all as God’s word and something most people cherish, ordering the posting of the Ten Commandments exposes adult hypocrisies in both lawmakers and schools who do not want to support the whole Mosaic law.

The intent of posting the Ten? To help elementary school kids know they are not to murder, steal, or commit adultery? Or to help high school students know the school demands they have only one God?

Even a casual reader of Deuteronomy cannot escape Moses’ pleading many times for Israel to keep the whole law. For example, Deuteronomy 4:1-2 begins: “Follow them. … Do not add to what I command you and do not subtract from it.” Moses repeats that in many ways for 34 chapters.

Moses meant the whole law, from which the Ten were carved and representative. The Ten were even placed in the ark, not posted, while the whole law was written and taught.

When you see the Ten Commandments posted anywhere, if you respect Moses’ words in Deuteronomy, then you see the Ten as inextricably, inseparably, intrinsically, indistinguishably, and indissolubly part of the whole Mosaic law—a whole package in which the Ten rest.

What the whole Mosaic law requires

Consider the following laws from Deuteronomy:

If a son will not obey his parents, then the elders of the city are to stone that son to death (21:18-21).

If there is no proof of a bride’s virginity, she is to be stoned to death—part of the “law” posted in our schools that no one followed then and will go to prison for today (22:20-21).

If a man rapes a virgin pledged to be married, he is to pay the father 50 shekels, about $15 today (22:23-24). Oh, yes, a lot of men in Texas prisons wish Dan Patrick and Ken Paxton were truly serious about that part of Moses’ law advocated in posting the Ten Commandment.

If two men are fighting and the wife grabs the assailant’s privates, we must cut of the wife’s hand and “show no pity” (25:11-12).

Moses repeats: “The Lord your God commands you this day to follow these decrees and laws; carefully observe them with all your heart and with all your soul” (26:16).

Posting the Ten advocates the whole, if one reads what Moses said. Moses closed with a chapter of curses upon those who fail to obey the whole. Did our Texas lawmakers forget Moses’ chapter full of curses for not following the whole?

Clearly, few of the laws were followed in Moses’ or in Jesus’ time, and no one today wants to follow all of the Mosaic law. No one. Several are even illegal today.

Hypocrisy of Ten Commandments law

Why not make it a law to “love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself?” Order “love?” Ha!

The more practical words of Jesus’ summation of the law into two commands and his immensely useful Golden Rule—“Do unto others as you would have them do to you”—are so valued, they need no law. They are nearly universal to all religions and dearly loved.

Seriously, only the weird would try to encode “love.”

No one in their right moral mind would order “love.” Love can never be ordered. To order schools to post “Love Others Like Yourself” actually cheapens the very words and reveals a moral superiority alien to Jesus’ purest intent.

Worse than ordering “love,” posting the Ten Commandments with no intent to follow the whole demeans the Ten and makes the host schools hypocritical to Moses’ intent and, with respect to Moses’ meaning, obligates those schools to support the ugliest killings totally illegal today.

Worse, the posting law is hypocritical to old Texas laws—perhaps naïvely—making hypocrites of the “biblical” lawmakers.

Worst of all, the Texas law subverts Jesus’ summary and his codicil in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) that clearly says, “Forgive,” and goes against the Mosaic law of “take a tooth for a tooth.”

There is no one in Texas who wants to follow the whole Mosaic law. Yet, the majority of Moses’ words were thrown out by the Texas legislature while they surgically clipped for special attention the Ten, with no intention of giving the whole credibility.

That encoding makes our schools a mockery if an intelligent student asked about why Texas wants to kill girls who are not virgins or stone to death young boys. Very serious affairs.

What our kids deserve

That is sad and ironic, given Texas Monthly’s most recent “Bum Steer Awards,” including a “Top Ken List” about our Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton and U.S. senator wannabe.

The list includes Texas State Senator Angela Paxton divorcing the attorney general on “biblical grounds” and a jab at Angela by Ken’s mistress. There is a stupendous irony in Paxton filing a state lawsuit to post the Ten while boldly violating one.

Our kids deserve more integrity than to be forced to participate in adult hypocrisies, or worse, to be a part of the school’s endorsing the Ten which are a curse-bound part of a whole with laws all find heinous.

Michael Maness retired after 20 years as a Texas prison chaplain and is the author of many articles and books. He holds a Master of Divinity from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and a Doctor of Ministry from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author. A version of this article previously appeared in the Tyler County Booster.

Our current cultural and political climate has raised a persistent question for me: Do I need to be an expert in immigration law?

I am the son of two immigrant parents who dreamed, risked, and fought for what they understood to be the “American dream.” Whatever one thinks of that phrase, it remains deeply compelling to people around the world who simply want a way out of poverty, persecution, or war.

I am also a pastor in downtown Fort Worth. The current climate—ICE raids, shifting immigration policies, the posture of our federal government, the pain I see on the news, and the relentless churn of social media—has forced me to ask, not only, “What do I say?” But also: “What am I responsible to know? Do I really need to become an expert in immigration law in order to speak faithfully?”

Alongside that question is a quieter but heavier rumbling: “How do I speak up? What if I don’t know enough? What if I get it wrong?”

Those questions weigh on me as a Latino, a husband, a father, and a pastor trying to shepherd people through a cultural moment marked by fear, anger, confusion, and—if we’re honest—apathy.

The church’s citizenship

My experience is hardly unique. Many of us are bombarded with sensationalist headlines, ill-informed hot takes, and a flood of emotions: outrage, exhaustion, and fear. And yet, we were never meant to be experts on every social issue of our day. God has not called his people to provide a comprehensive answer to every political debate.

Although the church has something to say about every cultural and political issue, the church serves a higher purpose than simply reacting to the culture around it.

Being a Christian means you belong to the church—the ekklēsia—a word that historically referred to a political gathering of citizens. Scripture describes believers as citizens of another kingdom, a people whose ultimate allegiance does not rest with any nation-state but with the kingdom of God.

This reality orders our lives and shapes the lens through which we see the world.

As a Christian, I may never become an expert in U.S. immigration law. I am, however, responsible for being formed by the politics, values, and ethics of the kingdom to which I claim allegiance. That means every issue—immigration included—must be viewed not primarily through a partisan lens but through a kingdom one.

What kingdom politics means

Kingdom politics has something to say about how we treat immigrants, sojourners, and the vulnerable. Scripture is unambiguous on this point. God consistently identifies himself as one who defends the outsider and calls his people to reflect that same posture. Our first concern must not be whether a policy benefits us, aligns with our political tribe, or preserves our comfort.

I’ve watched immigrant families flee violence, navigate a maze of paperwork, and wait in fear of the next policy change. Their stories remind us, debates about “immigration” are never abstract. They are about image-bearers with names, faces, and futures.

As citizens of the heavenly kingdom, we live as temporary residents—the Bible’s language is “sojourners and exiles”—in earthly kingdoms, and our values will at times feel out of step with the dominant culture.

Our identity should shape how we engage our neighbors, especially the marginalized.

Language that dehumanizes entire ethnic groups of people, fearmongering toward specific people groups, or an obsession with preserving “heritage” at the expense of human dignity makes little sense for people whose citizenship is grounded, not in bloodline or border, but in a heavenly kingdom.

Kingdom politics leads us to lean in rather than shrink back from public life. But our actions must not be driven by blind loyalty to a party or personality.

We are called to live out our faith with wisdom, winsomeness, and hope. So, yes, vote, protest, raise concerns, call out injustice, and pray for our nation and its leaders—all in light of an eternal kingdom that will outlast every administration.

What to be experts in

Instead of trying to master every legal detail or outsourcing our formation to social media algorithms, we can begin with proximity. Learn about immigration through relationships, not just headlines. Find an organization in your city serving refugees, asylum seekers, or undocumented families. Volunteer your time. Open your home. Share a meal. Listen before you argue.

Do these things because your allegiance to the kingdom of heaven demands it.

Is it necessary for Christians to become experts in immigration law before we can speak with confidence and clarity on these issues? No.

However, we must become experts in welcoming the outcast, confronting injustice, defending the vulnerable, and recognizing the image of God in every person.

The deeper question is not whether Christians can recite immigration policy, but whether our politics—our posture, our language, and our actions—reflect the kingdom to which we claim allegiance and the neighbors Christ calls us to love.

Joel Suárez is the engagement pastor at Paradox Church in Fort Worth. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Nuestro clima cultural y político actual ha planteado una pregunta persistente para mí: ¿Necesito ser un experto en derecho migratorio?

Soy hijo de dos padres inmigrantes que soñaron, arriesgaron y lucharon por lo que entendían como el “sueño americano”. Sea lo que sea que uno piense, esa frase sigue siendo profundamente convincente para personas de todo el mundo que simplemente desean una salida a la pobreza, la persecución o la guerra.

También soy pastor en el centro de Fort Worth. El clima actual—redadas de ICE, políticas migratorias cambiantes, la postura de nuestro gobierno federal, el dolor que veo en las noticias y el incesante torbellino de las redes sociales—me ha obligado a preguntarme no solo: ¿Qué digo? sino también: ¿De qué soy responsable de saber? ¿Realmente necesito convertirme en un experto en derecho migratorio para hablar con fidelidad?

Junto a esa pregunta, hay un murmullo más silencioso, pero más pesado: ¿Cómo alzo la voz? ¿Y si no sé lo suficiente? ¿Y si me equivoco?

Esas preguntas pesan sobre mí como latino, esposo, padre y pastor que intenta pastorear a las personas en medio de un momento cultural marcado por el miedo, la ira, la confusión y—si somos honestos—la apatía.

La ciudadanía de la iglesia

Mi experiencia no es única. Muchos de nosotros estamos siendo bombardeados con titulares sensacionalistas, opiniones apresuradas y mal informadas y una avalancha de emociones: indignación, agotamiento y miedo. Y, sin embargo, nunca se supuso que fuéramos expertos en cada asunto social de nuestro tiempo. Dios no ha llamado a su pueblo a tener una respuesta integral a cada debate político o cultural.

Aunque la iglesia tiene algo que decir sobre cada cuestión cultural y política, la iglesia cumple un propósito más alto que simplemente reaccionar ante la cultura que la rodea.

Ser cristiano significa que perteneces a la iglesia—la ekklēsia—una palabra que históricamente se refería a una asamblea política de ciudadanos. La Escritura describe a los creyentes como ciudadanos de otro reino, un pueblo cuya lealtad última no descansa en ningún estado-nación, sino en el reino de Dios.

Esta realidad ordena nuestras vidas y da forma al lente a través del cual vemos el mundo.

Como cristiano, puede que nunca llegue a ser un experto en la ley migratoria de los Estados Unidos. Sin embargo, soy responsable de ser formado por la política, los valores y la ética del reino al que digo que pertenezco. Eso significa que cada tema—incluida la inmigración—debe verse no principalmente a través de un lente basado en nuestro partido político, sino a través de un lente del reino.

Qué significa la política del reino

La política del reino tiene algo que decir sobre cómo tratamos a los inmigrantes, a los forasteros y a los vulnerables. La Escritura es inequívoca en este punto. Dios se identifica constantemente como aquel que defiende al extranjero y llama a su pueblo a reflejar esa misma postura. Nuestra primera preocupación no debe ser si una política nos beneficia, se alinea con nuestra tribu política o preserva nuestra comodidad.

He visto a familias inmigrantes huir de la violencia, navegar por un laberinto de trámites y esperar con miedo el próximo cambio de política. Sus historias nos recuerdan que los debates sobre la “inmigración” nunca son abstractos. Se trata de portadores de la imagen de Dios, con nombres, rostros y futuros.

Como ciudadanos del reino de los cielos, vivimos como residentes temporales—el lenguaje bíblico es “extranjeros y peregrinos”—en reinos terrenales, y nuestros valores a veces se sentirán fuera de la cultura dominante.

Nuestra identidad debe moldear la manera en que nos relacionamos con nuestros vecinos, especialmente con los marginados.

El lenguaje que deshumaniza a grupos étnicos enteros, el sembrar miedo hacia grupos específicos de personas o una obsesión por preservar la “herencia” nacional a costa de la dignidad humana tienen poco sentido para un pueblo cuya ciudadanía está fundada, no en una línea de sangre ni en una frontera, sino en un reino celestial.

La política del reino nos lleva a involucrarnos, no a replegarnos, de la vida pública. Pero nuestras acciones no deben estar impulsadas por una lealtad ciega a un partido o a una personalidad.

Estamos llamados a vivir nuestra fe con sabiduría, gracia y esperanza. Así que sí: vota, protesta, denuncia la injusticia y ora por nuestra nación y sus líderes, todo a la luz de un reino eterno que existirá más allá de cualquier administración.

Cómo participar como ciudadanos del reino

En lugar de intentar dominar cada detalle legal u otorgar a los algoritmos de las redes sociales la responsabilidad de nuestra formación, podemos comenzar con la proximidad.

Aprende sobre la inmigración a través de relaciones, no solo de titulares. Busca una organización en tu ciudad que brinde asistencia a refugiados, solicitantes de asilo o familias indocumentadas. Ofrece tu tiempo como voluntario. Abre tu casa. Comparte una comida. Escucha antes de discutir.

Haz estas cosas porque tu lealtad al reino de los cielos así lo exige.

¿Es necesario que los cristianos se conviertan en expertos en derecho migratorio antes de que podamos hablar con confianza y claridad sobre estos temas? No.

Sin embargo, sí debemos convertirnos en expertos en acoger al excluido, confrontar la injusticia, defender al vulnerable y reconocer la imagen de Dios en cada persona.

La pregunta no es si los cristianos pueden recitar la política migratoria, sino si nuestra política—nuestra postura, nuestro lenguaje y nuestras acciones—refleja el reino al que decimos pertenecer y a los vecinos a quienes Cristo nos llama a amar.

Joel Suárez es el pastor de involucramiento de la Iglesia Paradox en Fort Worth. Las opiniones expresadas en este artículo de opinión son las del autor.

“All is fair in love, war, and politics.”

That seems to be the mantra guiding American political discourse these days. But when an election conspiracy video was posted to President Donald Trump’s Truth Social account that presented former President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama as nonhuman apes, that discourse sank to a new low.

The video was eventually taken down, and as so often happens when politicians mess up, the post was blamed on an unnamed staffer. But the damage was done. Millions of Americans saw their worst fears about President Trump confirmed, and they saw many of his allies running for cover or pretending this was no big deal.

Condemnation deserved

Let’s be very clear. This is a big deal, and it is deserving of every syllable of the condemnation it has received.

Put aside for a moment the respect President Obama and his family have rightly earned or the disagreements we may have with him. Set aside for a moment his own record of transgressing traditional norms for public discourse. Absolutely no one should ever be subjected to this kind of offensive, dehumanizing, and dishonest rhetoric.

“Wait a minute,” you might object. “Didn’t the prophets, John the Baptist, and especially Jesus use dehumanizing rhetoric? Did not Jesus call his opponents ‘snakes?’”

It is true both John the Baptist (Matthew 3:7-8) and Jesus (Matthew 23:33) condemned their opponents in the religious aristocracy as a “brood of vipers.” It is difficult to overstate how insulting these taunts were. That is why I am not always persuaded by condemnations of harsh political rhetoric. Sometimes, the unvarnished truth needs to be told.

But what President Trump did in posting such an obscene image is not at all the same as what Jesus and John did.

For one thing, President Trump speaks from a place of political power. Jesus and John did not.

For another, the rhetoric Jesus and John chose was intended to break through the resistance of their recalcitrant opponents, so they could see themselves for who they really were. The video posted on President Trump’s account, by contrast, was designed to inflame passions among those still aggrieved by President Obama’s rhetoric and policies.

More importantly, it was an expression of the current president’s own malice, a window into the soul of a man who has been upfront about his desire to exact vengeance against those who have opposed him.

In other words, the harsh rhetoric of Scripture is redemptive in its aims, whereas President Trump’s rhetoric is petulant and vengeful. Moreover, it was flagrantly and indefensibly racist. Rather than establishing grounds for a more empathetic dialogue on race, it made such dialogue all the more difficult.

And all of this is beside the fact both President Trump and President Obama claim to be Christians. It is offensive beyond words to see one believer treat another in such a manner. Such public conduct cries out for the church’s united rebuke.

Opportunity for positive public witness

As a person, my first concern is for how this event has brought emotional distress to the Obama family, and my second is for the millions of Black Americans for whom this kind of rhetoric is all too familiar. They deserve nothing less than our unequivocal support and unwavering love.

As a pastor, my heart and mind cannot help but turn to how this incident affects the church. It isn’t just or even primarily that white evangelicals voted for President Trump in overwhelming numbers. Sometimes, we have to vote for candidates we do not like.

It is that we, the white evangelical church, are now associated with this kind of racist, heartless, and cruel rhetoric. And it burdens my heart how this incident has the power to divide God’s family even further.

But I would like to propose a more hopeful outcome. What if the American church—which has been hopelessly divided on any number of issues over the last century—finally spoke with one voice?

What if Christianity Today and the Christian Century published a joint editorial condemning Trump’s video? What if the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission and the Baptist Joint Committee got together and published a joint statement condemning racist and destructive political rhetoric?

Look, I’m a political and ecclesiological realist. Some of my oldest friends would even describe me as a pessimist. I understand the divides in American Christianity are unlikely to ever be healed. We all carry around with us a long list of grievances against those we believe have corrupted our institutions and distorted our society.

But unity will certainly not come if we don’t take advantage of the opportunities we are given to speak with a single voice. Moreover, institutional integrity will not come if we do not police our own side in “the culture wars.” Doing so does not mean we have compromised with the Enemy. It means we have side-stepped his trap and have walked faithfully with our Lord.

Our choice

The question for all of us now is, “What will we do?”

As individuals, congregations, and larger institutions, will we look away one more time as norms of decency are flouted and intellectual hospitality—the practice of treating those who disagree with us fairly and engaging their disagreements honestly—is demeaned? Will we choose to forget, opting for the easier and less costly way of citizenship?

Alternatively, will we gird up our loins, speak up against the darkness, and affirm by our actions our true citizenship is in heaven?

Will we stand shoulder to shoulder with every brother and sister of color who has suffered under the lingering injustice of race-based hatred, thereby bearing witness to the radical, reconciling work of God in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:11-21; Galatians 3:26-4:7; Ephesians 2:11-18)?

The choice we make may not change the course of history. It will, however, say much about who we are, and it may impact our ability to bear a credible witness for Christ in the future.

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

In the middle of the Super Bowl, one of the most watched moments in American culture, Benito—Bad Bunny to most of the world—turned a football field into a love letter.

It might have been the most energetic, cinematic halftime show in history. Every shot felt intentional. Every transition felt orchestrated. It wasn’t just a performance. It felt like a story being told with light and movement and bodies and rhythm. It was spectacle, yes, but it was also testimony.

I celebrate Puerto Rico. Their culture is beautiful. I love the island, and at the same time, I’m ashamed of how little we understand its history. I’m grieved by the abuses of power, the neglect, the ways we have benefited from people while failing to fully honor them.

My brothers and sisters from that beautiful island play an important role in our story, whether we’ve taken the time to learn that story or not.

Some people said they felt left out because they couldn’t understand the words.

Let me promise you: even those of us with mediocre Spanish couldn’t understand most of the words unless we’ve been singing these songs for years.

But you didn’t have to understand the words to hear the story. In fact, he put the message on a billboard for us, loud and clear: Love is the only thing stronger than hate.

You don’t have to agree with everything Benito has ever said to agree on that.

Desiring diversity

What struck me most was how winsome the invitation felt. This wasn’t scolding. This wasn’t shaming. It was joy. It was beauty. It was a wide-open welcome to embrace people of all cultures and all nations.

That invitation stirred a memory in me I didn’t expect.

When I was growing up in the church, we weren’t very diverse. It was a Baptist church: good people, faithful people, sincere people. But the truth is, we were mostly white with a little Latino and African American culture sprinkled on top. Even as a kid, I think we knew something was missing. Not wrong in a hateful way. Just … incomplete.

We knew—instinctively, scripturally—the kingdom of God was bigger than our sanctuary. Bigger than our zip code. Bigger than our music styles and potlucks and fellowship halls.

So we sang:

“Jesus loves the little children,
all the little children of the world—
red and yellow, black and white,
they are precious in His sight.”

It may not be the most politically correct language now, but the longing underneath it was holy. We wanted the world God loved to look like the world God made. We just didn’t know how to get there.

So, we did what a lot of churches did back then. We flew flags.

Expressing diversity

We hung them in the sanctuary, the gathering place of God’s people. If someone in the church had roots in another country, we flew that flag. If we went on a mission trip, we flew that flag. If someone had a cousin who once visited from another country, sometimes we flew that flag. If the janitor had migrated from Vietnam, we flew the Vietnamese flag.

It was imperfect. It was symbolic. It didn’t actually create diversity. But it revealed our hunger for it.

We were trying to say in the only language we had at the time, “All of God’s children belong here.” Even when most of them weren’t actually in the room.

Watching Bad Bunny fill the Super Bowl halftime stage with language, culture, bodies, flags, and stories that have so often been marginalized or muted in America, it felt like those flags finally came down off the walls and walked onto the field, not as decoration, not as aspiration, but as presence.

Celebrating diversity

I’m a pastor in the most ethnically diverse city in the United States. That means we have more culture and better food than almost anywhere else. It means we’re a beautiful, complicated, vibrant place to live. Our diversity isn’t our weakness. It’s our strength.

Somehow, by the grace of God, I now get to pastor a church as diverse as the city we’re in and as diverse as the world we are called to love. It’s beautiful. It’s compelling. People want to be a part of it. Not because we’ve figured everything out, but because embodied diversity—real community across lines of difference—feels like good news in a fractured world.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation in our country got reframed as if diversity itself was a threat. As if the presence of different languages and cultures somehow diminished us instead of deepening us. My hope—and my prayer—is moments like this help the pendulum begin to swing back.

Even beyond the halftime show, it felt like the whole broadcast was quietly whispering the same longing. Despite a mediocre-to-boring game, every entertainer, every commercial break, even the national anthem—sung so beautifully by Charlie Puth—and artists like Brandi Carlile, carried echoes of something deeper.

Two of the commercials even featured songs by my hero, Fred Rogers. It was as if the culture itself was saying: “We’re tired. We want a better example. We’re hungry for an invitation to love and unity, not hatred, bigotry, and division.”

Thanksgiving

The church I grew up in didn’t have it figured out. But we knew the difference between right and wrong. We knew, deep down, love was better than fear. My hope is we don’t forget that now.

For those who tuned out and watched a different halftime show: You might have missed something beautiful, a reminder the world is longing for an invitation to love and unity, not division.

Bad Bunny seemed to know all of this, and he filled his brilliant show with small, holy Easter eggs for those willing to pay attention:

• An actual wedding, officiated by a Latino Christian pastor.
• The gift of his Grammy to a young Puerto Rican version of himself, a reminder any kid is capable of changing the world.
• Tiny, defiant signs of dignity placed inside one of the largest platforms in the world.

This was the halftime show our country needed. Well, I can’t speak for the country.

I can only say this: It’s the halftime show I needed.

Thank you, Benito.

Chris Seay is the lead pastor of Ecclesia Houston. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

El clima migratorio actual en los Estados Unidos ha creado un profundo temor e inestabilidad dentro de las comunidades inmigrantes, particularmente entre inmigrantes indocumentados que no tienen antecedentes penales y que durante mucho tiempo han contribuido a sus iglesias y comunidades.

Esta situación actual ha herido profundamente a muchas congregaciones, incluyendo mi iglesia. Esto no es una declaración política. Es un clamor pastoral por ayuda.

Como cristiano y pastor, creo que es necesario reflexionar cuidadosamente sobre cómo el pueblo de Dios sirve y trata a las familias inmigrantes con fidelidad, compasión y cuidado práctico, mientras permanecemos arraigados en el evangelio de Jesucristo.

Creo que, como embajadores de Cristo, es más importante estar espiritualmente correctos que políticamente correctos. Hay momentos en la vida cuando tenemos que decir: “Esto no está bien. Esto no es de Dios”.

En este caso, a veces tenemos que decirlo con tristeza. A veces tenemos que decirlo con claridad y de manera directa. Pero como seguidores de Cristo, no siempre podemos andar con rodeos respecto a la verdad.

Un espejo moral

Comunidades ordinarias moldeadas por la fe pueden normalizar (ignorar) el sufrimiento cuando ocurre “cerca”, pero no directamente a ellas.

Con respecto a la comunidad inmigrante en los Estados Unidos, las iglesias evangélicas pueden ignorar el dolor humano a través de la política, el legalismo o el problema de alguien más.

Las detenciones, las separaciones familiares, el temor a la deportación y el efecto silenciador de la incertidumbre pueden convertirse en ruido de fondo: se oyen, pero rápidamente quedan ahogados por el miedo, la avaricia, la religión o las ideologías políticas.

A menudo conocemos el momento y el sonido del sufrimiento, y aun así elige mirar en otra dirección en lugar de cumplir con su compromiso. Así que desafío a las personas de conciencia, especialmente a las comunidades de fe, a preguntarse si están usando su voz para silenciar los clamores de ayuda o para abogar por la dignidad de los desprotegidos.

La historia sugiere que lo que perseguirá a las futuras generaciones no es solo lo que se hizo, sino lo que se ignoró. La pregunta, entonces, es si la respuesta a las injusticias de hoy será recordada como una compasión valiente o silencio e inacción.

Un espejo bíblico

A lo largo de la Escritura, Dios revela una preocupación particular por el extranjero, el forastero y el desplazado. Al pueblo de Dios se le recuerda repetidamente que su identidad está moldeada por la gracia y la liberación, no por el poder o el privilegio.

Deuteronomio 10:18–19 ordena al pueblo de Dios amar al extranjero, fundamentando este amor en la propia historia de vulnerabilidad de Israel. Levítico 19:34 instruye además que el extranjero debe ser tratado como un residente nacido en la tierra, enfatizando la dignidad más que una aceptación condicionada.

En el Nuevo Testamento, Jesús encarna esta ética. Comienza su vida terrenal como refugiado (Mateo 2:13–15), ministra entre los marginados y enseña que dar la bienvenida al extranjero es un acto de fidelidad hacia Él mismo (Mateo 25:35–40).

Estos textos no permiten que la iglesia permanezca neutral cuando las personas vulnerables son maltratadas. Más bien, obligan a la iglesia a actuar de maneras que reflejen la compasión y la justicia de Dios.

Cuando la aplicación de la ley migratoria resulta en detención prolongada, separación familiar o deshumanización de personas que no han cometido ningún delito, la iglesia debe responder primero como iglesia.

Hechos 5:29 nos recuerda que obedecer a Dios tiene prioridad cuando están en juego las convicciones morales. Esta postura no se basa en política, sino en un discipulado fiel moldeado por el carácter de Cristo.

Esto afecta a la iglesia

A través del panorama evangélico, líderes fieles al Reino de Dios han respondido a la crisis migratoria de distintas maneras. Muchos han optado por hablar públicamente, utilizando plataformas sociales para llamar la atención sobre la injusticia y abogar por las comunidades vulnerables. Creemos que este testimonio público, cuando se hace con responsabilidad, es valioso y necesario.

Como pastor, he hablado públicamente con cuidado. Mi énfasis principal ha sido la defensa práctica. Nos hemos preguntado no solo cómo hablar fielmente, sino cómo actuar fielmente—cómo pasar de las palabras a expresiones encarnadas del evangelio. Como nos recuerda Santiago 2:17, la fe que permanece solo en el discurso, sin acción, es incompleta.

En el último año, la crisis migratoria ha afectado directamente a familias dentro de nuestra iglesia. El temor a la detención ha llevado a una disminución en la asistencia, pues las familias evitan espacios públicos.

Varios miembros han sido detenidos durante paradas de tráfico rutinarias cuando la policía local contactó a Inmigración y Control de Aduanas (ICE), en lugar de seguir el debido proceso que dicta la ley.

Algunas personas en mi congregación fueron deportadas en cuestión de días, mientras que otras permanecen detenidas por meses a pesar de haber expresado su disposición a regresar voluntariamente a sus países de origen. Las personas detenidas han reportado fallas administrativas, vuelos perdidos y una incertidumbre prolongada.

En algunos casos, adultos mayores de la congregación con necesidades médicas permanecen detenidos sin plazos claros para su liberación o deportación. El costo emocional, espiritual y financiero para las familias ha sido significativo.

No considero la crisis migratoria como una oportunidad ministerial, sino como una obligación del evangelio. Compartir el evangelio incluye tanto la proclamación como la presencia—hablar la verdad bíblica y, a la vez, atender necesidades reales en momentos de crisis.

La crisis migratoria presenta a la iglesia un momento decisivo de testimonio. Creo que la iglesia debe responder, no con temor ni silencio, sino con una presencia fiel, amor sacrificial y claridad teológica.

Continúe leyendo para ver cómo está respondiendo mi iglesia.

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Cómo está respondiendo mi iglesia

Apoyo de emergencia para familias

Cuando quienes sostienen económicamente a la familia son removidos sin previo aviso, las familias quedan sin ingresos, sin seguridad alimentaria y sin tiempo para prepararse. Establecimos un fondo de emergencia dedicado a ayudar a familias que enfrentan separaciones repentinas por detención o deportación. Este fondo permite que la iglesia responda de inmediato con compasión y estabilidad durante crisis inesperadas.

Alianza con el Consulado de México

Durante los últimos 12 meses, hemos recibido al Consulado de México en nuestro campus cuatro veces y hemos apoyado a más de 2.500 personas documentadas e indocumentadas que necesitaban prepararse para lo peor, porque lo peor está ocurriendo.

Estos eventos brindan a las familias orientación profesional sobre su estatus migratorio y les ayudan a renovar pasaportes y otros documentos esenciales.

Las familias viajan desde toda el área metropolitana de Dallas–Fort Worth y el este de Texas para asistir a estos eventos, lo cual refleja la confianza depositada en la iglesia como un espacio seguro y accesible.

Apoyo de consejería informado por trauma

En alianza con Re-Therapy Counseling Services, estamos ofreciendo dos sesiones gratuitas de consejería a familias impactadas por la crisis migratoria. Esta iniciativa brinda atención profesional a niños, cónyuges e individuos que experimentan trauma, ansiedad y depresión, afirmando el compromiso de la iglesia con una sanidad integral.

*******

Animamos a los seguidores de Cristo con una visión centrada en el Reino a enfrentar este momento con valentía y compasión, recordando que nuestro llamado no está definido por la lealtad política, sino por la vida y las enseñanzas de Jesucristo, quien llama a su iglesia a amar, no con una mentalidad política, sino con un amor sacrificial hacia el extranjero y con cuidado por los vulnerables.

El Dr. Pablo Juárez es pastor de First Baptist Church of Kaufman en español. Las opiniones expresadas en este artículo de opinión son del autor.

NOTA DEL EDITOR: La segunda sección del artículo original fue revisada el 11 de febrero de 2026.

The current immigration climate in the United States has created deep fear and instability within immigrant communities, particularly among undocumented immigrants who have no criminal record and who have long contributed to their churches and neighborhoods.

This current situation has deeply hurt many congregations, including my church. This is not a political statement. It is a pastoral cry for help.

As a Christian and a pastor, I believe it is necessary to reflect carefully on how the people of God serve and treat immigrant families with faithfulness, compassion, and practical care, while remaining grounded in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I believe, as a Christ-ambassador, it is more important to be spiritually correct than politically correct. There are times in life when we have to say: “This is not right. This is not of God.” In this case, sometimes we have to say it sadly. Sometimes we have to say it clearly and directly. But as followers of Christ, we can’t always beat around the bush about the truth.

A moral mirror

A biblical mirror

Throughout Scripture, God reveals a particular concern for the foreigner, the sojourner, and the displaced. The people of God are repeatedly reminded their own identity is shaped by grace and deliverance, not by power or privilege.

Deuteronomy 10:18–19 commands God’s people to love the stranger, grounding this love in Israel’s own history of vulnerability. Leviticus 19:34 further instructs the foreigner is to be treated as a native-born resident, emphasizing dignity rather than conditional acceptance.

In the New Testament, Jesus embodies this ethic. He begins his earthly life as a refugee (Matthew 2:13–15), ministers among the marginalized, and teaches welcoming the stranger is an act of faithfulness to himself (Matthew 25:35–40).

These texts do not permit the church to remain neutral when vulnerable people are mistreated. Rather, they compel the church to act in ways that reflect the compassion and justice of God.

When immigration enforcement results in prolonged detention, family separation, or the dehumanization of people who have committed no criminal offense, the church must respond first as the church.

Acts 5:29 reminds us obedience to God takes precedence when moral convictions are at stake. This posture is not rooted in political defiance but in faithful discipleship shaped by the character of Christ.

This affects the church

Across the evangelical landscape, faithful leaders have responded to the immigration crisis in different ways. Many have chosen to speak publicly, using social platforms to call attention to injustice and to advocate for vulnerable communities. We believe such public witness, when done responsibly, is valuable and necessary.

As a pastor, I have spoken publicly with care. My primary emphasis has been on practical advocacy. We have asked not only how to speak faithfully, but how to act faithfully—how to move from words to embodied expressions of the gospel. As James 2:17 reminds us, faith that remains only in speech, without action, is incomplete.

Over the past year, the immigration crisis has directly affected families within our church. Fear of detention has led to decreased attendance as families avoid public spaces. Several members have been detained during routine traffic stops when local law enforcement contacted Immigration and Customs Enforcement instead of following due process.

Some individuals in my congregation were deported within days, while others remain detained for months despite expressing a willingness to return voluntarily to their home countries. Detained individuals have reported administrative failures, missed flights, and prolonged uncertainty.

In some cases, older adult congregants with medical needs remain confined without clear timelines for release or deportation. The emotional, spiritual, and financial toll on families has been significant.

I do not view the immigration crisis as a ministry opportunity, but as a gospel obligation. Sharing the gospel includes both proclamation and presence—speaking biblical truth while also meeting real needs in moments of crisis.

The immigration crisis presents the church with a defining moment of witness. I believe the church must respond, not with fear or silence, but with faithful presence, sacrificial love, and theological clarity.

Keep reading to see how my church is responding.

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How my church is responding

Emergency support for families

When primary wage earners are removed without warning, families are left without income, food security, or time to prepare. We established a dedicated emergency fund to assist families facing sudden separation due to detention or deportation. This fund allows the church to respond immediately with compassion and stability during unexpected crises.

Partnership with the Mexican Consulate

Over the last 12 months, we have hosted the Mexican Consulate on our church campus four times and supported more than 2,500 documented and undocumented people who needed to be prepared for the worst, because the worst is happening.

These events provide families with professional guidance on their immigration status and help them renew passports and other essential documents.

Families travel from across the Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex and East Texas to these events, reflecting the trust placed in the church as a safe and accessible space.

Trauma-informed counseling support

In partnership with Re-Therapy Counseling Services, we are offering two free counseling sessions to families impacted by the immigration crisis. This initiative provides professional care for children, spouses, and individuals experiencing trauma, anxiety, and depression, affirming the church’s commitment to holistic healing.

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We encourage kingdom-minded followers of Christ to engage this moment with courage and compassion, remembering our calling is shaped not by political allegiance, but by the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, who calls his church to love, not with a political mindset, but with a sacrificial love for the stranger and care for the vulnerable.

Dr. Pablo Juárez is the pastor of First Baptist Church of Kaufman en Español. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

EDITOR’S NOTE: The second section of the original article was revised, Feb. 11, 2026.