Belonging is something I have thought about most of my life. It shapes our identity, who we are and who we will become.

It’s fitting to discuss what belonging means in November when we recognize National Adoption Month. This is a time we honor children who need a place to call home—a place to belong.

My story of belonging

While I was born in Corpus Christi, I grew up in Southern California in a Hispanic-majority neighborhood and attended school and church in a multi-cultural context. When I returned to Corpus Christi, my environment shifted to a bicultural context, mainly Anglo and Hispanic.

The phrase I heard growing up was, “No somos ni de aquí, ni de allá”; “We are neither from here nor there.”

We were not Mexican enough to be truly Mexican and not American enough to truly be American. Instead, we thought of ourselves as Tejanos, native Texans of Mexican descent.

In seminary, I learned another word for this: liminal. Liminal means occupying a position at or on both sides of a boundary or threshold. My own liminality is an advantage that helps me navigate two worlds at the same time.

And yet, my family always provided me with a strong foundation where I belonged with my own identity and community. I remember I am a product of my family. My parents and their families—who provided me with 74 first cousins—my wife and her family, my brothers and their families, and our sons have blessed me with a place to call home and a family to belong to.

Need for Hispanic homes

I think many of the more than 12 million Hispanic Americans in Texas—a little less than 40 percent of the state population—would agree with this search for belonging and identity. Family is an important anchor in that search. Unfortunately, many children—particularly Hispanic children—do not have a family to anchor them in that way.

According to the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services, more than 40 percent of children in the Texas foster care system are Hispanic. That means out of the 30,000 children in the system, approximately 13,000 are Hispanic. Out of the 4,700 children waiting for adoption in Texas, around 2,000 are Hispanic.

These numbers highlight the urgent need for Hispanic foster and adoptive families.

At Buckner, our primary goal is to place children in safe and loving homes. We also acknowledge a familiar cultural context and language can help children feel connected and secure. Buckner finds families for children, rather than finding children for families. That’s why we are working toward finding more Hispanic families who are willing to foster or adopt.

One family’s story

The Jasso family from Fort Worth is an example of a Hispanic family who chose to open their home to foster care.

Mike and Senaida Jasso grew up with strong ties to their Mexican heritage. Both are first-generation Americans whose families instilled in them values important to many Hispanics, one of which was the importance of family.

They married a bit later in life, and while Mike had two older daughters from a previous marriage, Senaida yearned for the opportunity to raise children, too. When a client of Mike’s told them about Buckner’s work in foster care, they were apprehensive of the idea at first.

Foster care is not as common in Hispanic cultures. The Jassos, like other couples, had many doubts. Interestingly, the main one came from a cultural emphasis on the importance of family: Why would you bring an “outsider” in when there are enough nieces and nephews or other relatives to give your love to?

Despite doubts, the Jassos’ strong faith compelled them to move forward with foster care. Senaida said they still had a lot more love to give.

It was a lengthy journey, but with Buckner at their side, eventually they received a foster-to-adopt placement—three Hispanic siblings ages 3, 5 and 7. They said the kids felt at home right away, immediately asking, “Which room is mine?” They were quickly comfortable with the affection Mike, Senaida and their extended families offered.

A similarity in culture or language between the children waiting to be adopted and the family placement can help the healing process, giving children a connection, security and a sense of belonging. The Jassos witnessed it firsthand and believe it was valuable for their children.

And it wasn’t just Mike and Senaida who opened their minds and hearts, but their large families, too. More than 50 people, many of whom were family, were at the courthouse on the day of the adoption. The judge was so impressed, she mentioned it was the most people she’d ever seen in the courtroom.

You can be that family

This is what Hispanic families can bring to vulnerable children through foster care and adoption—not just a family, but a whole community that can come around a child and love them well.

Hispanic families can provide unique support and understanding for Hispanic children in foster care. They offer a sense of cultural continuity and belonging through traditions, language and values familiar to the children.

If you are a Hispanic family wondering what value you would bring, the Jassos can be an example. For more than a year, they have been an anchor for these kids, and they would say the kids have done the same for them.

Consider how you may be that anchor for a child that needs it. You can be the place where they not only find a family, but a large community of people who look, talk and think like them. You can be the place for these children to finally say, “De aquí somos”; “Here we belong.”

Dr. Albert L. Reyes is the president and CEO of Buckner International. He is a member of the board of directors for the Christian Alliance for Orphans, Angelo State University Foundation, and Stark College and Seminary. He has written three books: The Jesus Agenda (2015), Hope Now (2019), and Never Alone: The Power of Family to Inspire Hope(2024). Reyes is the first Hispanic president in Buckner International’s 145 year-history.

I’ve read if a bumblebee flies into an open glass jar, it can’t escape. It will continue to beat its head against the sides of the jar over and over until exhaustion sinks in. Eventually, the bee gives up and dies.

That bee hasn’t suddenly forgotten how to fly. It’s been doing it its whole life. It still has its wings, and they are still in good flying shape. It flew into that jar and should know how to fly out, right? So, what’s the problem? Why can’t it escape? Apparently, the bumblebee simply can’t or won’t look up. If it only could or would look up, it would find its salvation.

Are there times in your life when you feel a little like a bumblebee trapped in a jar? Perhaps you are facing some pretty jarring circumstances right now, but you find yourself endlessly buzzing around, relentlessly banging your head against those circumstantial walls until, eventually, you become exhausted. Maybe, just maybe, you’re at the point of giving up.

If you want to be happy in life despite your jarring circumstances, if you want to be released from that jar that imprisons you, maybe you need to start by simply changing your behavior. That’s what that poor bumblebee needed to do.

Looking up to the Lord

Maybe it’s time to stop banging your head against your circumstances and start looking up to the Lord who is always there for you, always with you and always looking out for you.

God has given you wings to fly up and over your circumstances, but you have to learn to look up and keep looking up. You can choose to keep banging your head against the walls of your circumstances—most of which you have little or no control over—or you can choose to lift up your head and look heavenward for your help, your hope, your salvation.

Not surprisingly, the Bible speaks a lot about the importance of looking up and looking to the Lord, especially amid jarring circumstances.

Biblical encouragement

Maybe God is speaking to you today, telling you to stop looking around and start looking up. Try beginning with some of these incredible and freeing exhortations and encouragements from the Lord:

“Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing” (Isaiah 40:26).

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth” (Psalm 121:1-2).

“I lift up my eyes to you, to you who sit enthroned in heaven” (Psalm 123:1).

“My eyes are ever on the Lord, for only he will release my feet from the snare” (Psalm 25:15).

“Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame” (Psalm 34:5).

“Lift up your eyes to the heavens, look at the earth beneath; the heavens will vanish like smoke, the earth will wear out like a garment and its inhabitants die like flies. But my salvation will last forever, my righteousness will never fail” (Isaiah 51:6).

“But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me” (Micah 7:7).

“When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28).

“Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2).

I’m looking up, too.

For the past two years, I have found myself feeling trapped in the circumstantial jar of chronic pain.

Like the bumblebee, I started on this journey looking for an escape route, but I found myself looking for it in all the wrong places. I was looking for it in and through my circumstances. And like that bumblebee, I found myself hopelessly banging my head against the wall of circumstances I really had no control over.

But I soon discovered that important lesson of the bumblebee. Until I learned the daily discipline of continuously looking up, my “salvation” never was going to come. It’s been by looking to and feeding on that steady diet of God’s uplifting words that he has started giving me wings to fly up and over my circumstances.

I may never escape from my jar of pain. The walls of my circumstances may never change. My pain may never cease. But God’s word never changes (Isaiah 40:8). The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases (Lamentations 3:22-23). God’s promises never break (2 Corinthians 1:20).

And God’s great faithfulness (Lamentations 3:23) and his amazing, sustaining grace (2 Corinthians 12:9) are becoming the wings helping me to soar.

Do you want to be happy in life despite your jarring circumstances? Check your behavior. If you will develop a daily discipline of looking up, you will discover some unbelievably amazing, sustaining wings from the Lord that are going to help you fly.

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as bumblebees; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31, author’s paraphrase).

Jim Lemons is professor of theological studies and leadership in the College of Christian Faith and the director of the Master of Arts in Theological Studies at Dallas Baptist University. The views expressed in this opinion article are those solely of the author.

Joe and I married in seminary and had a three-room duplex in seminary housing. We had one air-conditioning window unit and a wall furnace that was as hot as Hades. Our floors were old wood, and we had a small cement front and back porch, and a big backyard with a clothesline.

Once I did a big load of laundry, and crazy seminary boys climbed our fence and stole my husband’s underwear.

Joe was always busy with school and working at the federal center nearby, and I constantly typed his papers, had his meals ready and then took a job with a group of Christian women cleaning houses for the affluent in Fort Worth.

Though I had a degree and teacher certificate, art teacher jobs in the area were not available. So, I scrubbed and vacuumed an assortment of homes, achieving the slimmest waistline I have ever had.

We found a church home, learning to sacrifice $10 a week for our tithe. That amount increased a bit as I found more work. Instead of cleaning one house a day, I found I sometimes could clean two.

Moving

After graduation, we moved to rural north Louisiana, into an old, white clapboard parsonage with nice big rooms. Finding a huge snakeskin under the sink was an unpleasant memory, but we painted the rooms and enjoyed the new brown carpet our little church had installed.

Joe had an office in the house with the church telephone and an odorous mimeograph machine from which he produced the Sunday bulletins.

Eventually, our parents bought us a new Sears washer and dryer. What bliss, even if housed in the storeroom under the carport.

At night, we held on to one another in our double bed as one holding on to a life raft. We could not afford insurance for a while, could not afford to get sick, and life was scary.

Still, we had fun. We had church members over to eat and made a huge amount of chili for New Year’s Eve. While that party was kind of a bomb, we tried our best. The older church members did not like to sit on our inexpensive folding chairs and stay up late. Home was their preferred place.

On weekends, we got on the rural roads and explored small towns in Arkansas, eating at humble establishments, and looked for old furniture and assorted bargains for the parsonage.

We found a shrimp and hushpuppy restaurant in Monroe, La. Then, in 1988, Walmart! Delicious and divinely convenient.

At church, we had a Halloween carnival and Vacation Bible School. We held revivals and took the visiting preacher to a different home each evening for dinner. He stayed with us in a guest room, as we had no motels for miles, and that was the local tradition.

In time, I found teaching jobs, and we were able to buy our first home a few years later and adopt a baby.

Advice

My mother watched me struggle through those years, and she gave me great advice, and plenty of help.

First, she and my grandmother gave us our small, home wedding and a wedding lunch. When we had no resources for a honeymoon, the family made our lake house available. I am sure my mom was behind the idea to gift us the washer and dryer, desperately needed, since no laundromats were in the cotton fields where Joe was a pastor.

Then, mom kept me going with encouragement about our small church. Whenever we came home to Dallas, our trunk was loaded with a million things mom thought we could use—furniture, clothes, canned food and spices she had gathered. She knew my size and was talented at picking out “church dresses” as she shopped around Dallas.

She was proud I led the music each Sunday at the church.

Most valuable of all was the advice she gave me about marriage.

She told me always to turn to Joe in our struggles. Our hard times would bind us together as a couple, and leaning on each other would cause our love to grow and endure.

Mom loved Joe and said he was very handsome and would grow into a great man. She saw intelligence and a sense of humor in her son-in-law, and she lived to see him get a doctorate. She did not live to see his counseling degree and Ph.D.

She was to him a support he never had experienced before.

Mom knew happiness was not found in having all the riches of life in one’s youth. She, as well as my grandmother and aunts, told me to enjoy finding each antique and refinishing my “finds,” making my home beautiful and unique, one piece at a time. My Aunt Louise gave me her old Singer sewing machine, and I was able to sew up valances for windows.

Being able to make a home, refresh it and change it was a way to show love. Cooking could be endlessly creative—and fattening. Homemaking was a privilege; that was the message from the women of my family.

Lessons

Like many Baptist ladies, I come from a long line of homemaker wives, and their collective wisdom has proved solid.

Though I have worked at a job for many years, my bond with my husband has grown as my mother predicted. And my love for our humble home is still tremendous.

It occurs to me that when she taught me to cleave to Joe and leave her, I only loved her more.

I loved her truth and bravery to face the dynamic of relationships within God’s plan. Her day was different than the prevalent culture many women experience today, and I accept that and realize we can learn from the lessons change brings.

Mama was smart, and of course, she learned it all at Baylor.

She also learned through experiences that did not work out so well for her, but her legacy was daughters who soaked up her soul and learned to mirror her heart.

We each have to find our place in the divine plan, putting God first in priority, and then our husbands and children and church.

If we are single women, God gives us more and more of himself and his calling to fill our lives.

Life in my later years overflows with memories, and the wisdom of loved ones moves across the screen of my mind like characters in a movie. God is in it all. His love is in every frame, and when we are married, his powerful truth brings our relationship to spiritual life.

One great lesson in the struggle is cleave, hold on to your spouse in the adventures and drama of life. Let God carry and advance the marriage he knotted together.

It is his glory to be God for his people.

Ruth Cook is an educator assistant for an English-as-a-Second-Language class and is a longtime Texas Baptist. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Do you find it challenging to pray for a president you didn’t support? For many, it can be easier to critique our leaders on social media than to lift them up in prayer.

It may feel awkward—even contradictory—but when Gerald Ford assumed the presidency following Richard Nixon’s resignation, he didn’t just ask for political support. He asked for something far more powerful: prayer.

His message to the nation stated: “I am acutely aware that you have not elected me as your president by your ballots, and so I ask you to confirm me as your president with your prayers. And I hope that such prayers will also be the first of many.”

His humble request reveals a profound truth about leadership and faith we desperately need to reflect on today.

The U.S. presidency often has been called the world’s toughest job, and for good reason. Every day brings decisions that ripple through millions of lives, from economic policies to health care reforms, from international relations to matters of war and peace.

When was the last time you considered the weight of responsibility that rests on the shoulders of the person in the Oval Office?

In our sharply divided country, when the president’s name can spark conflicts, leading to rifts in friendships or heated arguments at family gatherings, the real challenge is whether we can put aside our political differences and earnestly pray for leaders with whom we may not agree.

What if, instead of protesting, we approached our political differences with a spirit of prayer?

The possibilities of prayer

The Apostle Paul’s advice to Timothy is remarkably relevant today: “I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession, and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority” (1 Timothy 2:1-2 NIV).

Consider the context: Paul wrote these words during the reign of emperors who actively opposed Christianity. He understood what we often overlook: God’s sovereignty transcends our political preferences.

But in a democracy where we have the right—and duty—to choose our own leaders, what does this mean for us? Imagine the spiritual impact if believers, regardless of political affiliation, committed to pray regularly for our president. Think of the transformation that could come from millions of Christians joining together in faithful prayer rather than political division.

Does praying for our leaders mean we endorse all they do? Absolutely not. Prayer is about recognizing God’s sovereignty and relying on his guidance, not endorsing specific policies.

As Billy Graham wisely noted, “Heaven is my home. I am just passing through this world.” This perspective helps remind us our true citizenship goes beyond any earthly nation.

Consider this: If you spent as much time praying for the president as you do discussing politics on social media, how might your prayer life change? What if you chose prayer over posting as your first response to a controversial policy decision? How might this shift in perspective affect your attitude and influence others around you?

A challenge and steps

So, here’s my challenge: Will you commit with me? Let’s decide to pray for our president, whoever that person may be, out of faithful obedience rather than political allegiance.

Here are some practical steps to get started:

• Set a daily reminder on your phone to pray for the president at a specific time.
• Join or create a prayer group dedicated to our country’s leadership.
• Keep a prayer journal focused on national issues.
• Whenever you feel compelled to criticize, refocus that energy into prayer.

Never forget: When we pray for those we disagree with, we demonstrate the love Jesus commanded us to show. Instead of building walls, we’re building bridges. Instead of fostering division, we’re choosing unity. We acknowledge God’s thoughts are higher than ours, and his ways are greater.

The question isn’t whether our preferred candidate is in office. The true question is: Will we remain steadfast in prayer, regardless of the outcome? Will we rise above political affiliations to embody what it means to be a Christian in a divided society? The choice—and challenge—is yours. How will you respond?

Joshua Longmire is assistant professor in leadership at Dallas Baptist University. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Three of four women of working age who sit in pews on Sunday go to work on Monday. They spend their weeks as physicians and politicians, educators and editors, bankers and business leaders.

According to U.S. Census data, 75 percent of women between ages 25 and 55 work outside the home.

As Millennial and Gex X women turn 40 and 50, they enter leadership positions and their peak earning years. Conversely, the younger women in churches recently began their careers.

McKinsey’s 2024 Women in the Workplace report reveals their priorities. Gen Z women want an equitable workplace and will leave for better opportunities—especially when they see more veteran women do the same.

In addition to quitting inequitable employers, Gen Z women have no problem leaving their religion. They depart church at higher rates than their male counterparts, according to a recent report from the Survey Center on American Life.

Women tell institutions what they value—with their feet. They reveal what they cannot stand by walking away. Workplaces and churches are left to ponder and communicate about gender roles—and they do so in vastly different ways.

Disorienting differences

Women encounter disorienting differences between their Baptist churches on Sunday and their workplaces on Monday.

For example, most Baptist churches proclaim men and women as equal before God and created in his image (Genesis 1:26–27).

Churches who hold to the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message go on to decree, however, restrictions on those same women: “The office of pastor is limited to men as qualified by Scripture,” and a wife “has the God-given responsibility to respect her husband and to serve as his helper in managing the household and nurturing the next generation.”

Meanwhile, secular employers increasingly embrace diversity and champion gender equality for all positions of authority. Apple, for example, commits to “inclusion that reflects the world around us” and publicly posts statistics for accountability.

Comparing Sunday to Monday

Church leaders that want perspective on women’s experiences on Sunday would do well to peer into their lives Monday through Friday.

Sunday

Let’s imagine one woman’s journey from church to work. We’ll call her Lydia, after the wealthy businesswoman in Acts 16 who financed Paul’s church in Philippi.

Our modern Lydia walks into church on Sunday morning, eager to worship God and minister to his people. She grabs coffee in the lobby, then enters the sanctuary where men greet and seat her.

She worships, led by a worship team consisting of men and women, her heart lifted along with the corporate praises to God. She receives both the offering plate and then a sermon—each given by a man.

Lydia “should” attend a Sunday school class, but she struggles to find her place there. She longs to use her gifts of wisdom and teaching in an adult class, but leadership instead encouraged her to volunteer in the nursery or children’s program.

Lydia leaves church unfulfilled, feeling like a consumer of her faith rather than a partner with God to minister to his people. She navigates a veiled and nuanced set of rules, barriers and taboos for women she finds—in the words of Lewis Carroll—“curiouser and curiouser.”

Her church places no restrictions on her attendance and greatly encourages tithing out of her weekday earnings, but then limits her areas of service and leadership simply because of her gender. Other than singing and small talk, she is silent on Sunday.

Monday

At work on Monday, Lydia manages a small team and budget. She started out with her company years ago as an individual contributor. Her employer noticed her skill, tenure and effort and promoted her to a manager position. From Monday to Friday, she now meets with her boss, her customers and the individuals on her team.

She ponders her gender about as much as she thinks about the air she breathes. Perhaps because her company builds a culture of equality and prioritizes diversity and inclusion in their core values. Perhaps because she has work to do and simply sets about doing it.

She works alongside capable colleagues, both men and women. Fewer women than men hold positions at top levels of leadership, but her company views the discrepancy as an opportunity to further strengthen their multifaceted leadership. They measure and report on this statistic annually.

When she does think about her gender, she does so because her employer creates intentional and safe spaces for diverse discussions. Monday through Friday she lives and moves within systemic equality.

Different experiences

A closer look at the definition of equality aids our synthesis of the story of Lydia and women like her. Oxford Languages defines equality as “the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities.”

For working women, the different experiences from Sunday to Monday boil down to opportunities. A church that limits opportunities on gender-specific lines, by definition, does not practice equality.

Even if that church views men and women as equal in dignity before God, the practice of “equal (dignity) but separate (opportunity)” ends up feeling both separate and unequal.

As reported in the Baptist Standard, “Nearly two-thirds (65 percent) of young women said they do not believe that churches treat men and women equally.”

Unequal treatment—or the perception of it—on Sunday followed by equal treatment on Monday raises a dissonance women both young and old cannot resolve.

A more level path

What might a more level path look like? In an age of reimagining, perhaps we simply need to remember.

Lydia of Acts 16 proves women can speak with and to their brothers in Christ in God-honoring and persuasive ways. Acts records Lydia’s enterprise, resources and leadership of her entire household, all without revealing her marital status or number of children.

Like Paul did with Lydia, churches can recognize women as immensely capable and invite them into a partnership that builds Christ’s church. If churches chase that vision, they will offer women integrated lives with meaningful opportunities—on Sunday as well as Monday.

Lauren Roberts Lukefahr is a life-long resident of the Houston area. Her household currently includes a handful of beloved pets, plants and people. She is a senior director at Alvarez & Marsal, a student at Dallas Theological Seminary and a member of Houston’s First Baptist Church Sienna. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

From the beginning of time, religion has been part of being human. Humans always have looked for some force, power or being beyond themselves. This results in “synonymous thinking” between social and religious settings.

With synonymous thinking, if an individual or a group within society criticized the actions of the state, it was viewed by most people as criticism of the religion. There was no separation of church and state within society. Church and state were synonymous. Within Christendom, those who did not believe in Christianity sometimes were viewed as heretics worthy of death.

History of synonymous thinking

In the early days of Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Chinese and Jewish societies, religion played a major role in the life of the community. Synonymous thinking sometimes led to minor or serious forms of discrimination against individuals who did not meet the expectations of those in power.

Nations such as England, Italy and Spain adopted state religions, usually some form of Christianity. Criticism of the state was viewed as criticism or an attack on religion. Sometimes Christians did horrible things to force conformity upon others. There were the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition and the burning of so-called “witches” in Salem, Mass.

In the 1600s, Roger Williams and Anne Hutchinson fled Massachusetts because of religious intolerance. Williams often is identified as the founder of the first Baptist church in Rhode Island. Anti-establishment individuals, such as the Baptists, opposed public funds being spent on religions that held religious beliefs different from their own.

James Madison, Thomas Jefferson and other American colonists opposed the existence of an official religion. On the other hand, some colonies sanctioned official religions, such as the Congregational Church in Northern states and the Church of England in Southern states.

The men who met in Philadelphia developed a new form of government through the writing of the U.S. Constitution. Since it did not ban the establishment of religion, James Madison led in adding a Bill of Rights to ensure there shall be no “establishment” of religion, and there should be the right to the “free exercise” of religion.

The U.S. Supreme Court, primarily, has decided what actions of individuals or organizations violate these two clauses in the U.S. Constitution. A lot of that decision making has come about because of synonymous thinking.

Zealotry and synonymous thinking

Religious zealots, also called religious dogmatists, are among the strongest proponents of synonymous thinking. They believe they are the guardians of “the truth” and speak for God.

Synonymous thinking means everyone should think and act the same with regard to the reading of books, when engaging in sexual activities, with how and when people should pray or display religious images. All of these are deeply emotional issues, subject to conflict, and call for tolerance and for the acceptance of diversity within society.

It is all too easy for synonymous thinking to become discriminatory thinking and action. Ideological zealots who reject diversity and adhere to synonymous thinking are dangerous for a pluralistic society such as the United States.

A clear and compassionate understanding of the need for the separation of church and state is an important tool for social order and stability.

Three modern examples

What does all this mean for today’s world? I will cite three examples.

Iran has an official religion—Islam. To enforce public expressions and maintain synonymous activity, moral police monitor and enforce religious conformity. For example, all women are required to dress alike and cover all their hair in public.

Some people outside Iran believe all Iranians are alike. That is not true. Iranians are not all alike. In recent years, some Iranian women have risen in opposition to religious conformity. Some have been killed because of their rebellious actions.

The second example is the ongoing conflict between Israel and some of their surrounding Islamic societies. Synonymous thinking suggests someone who openly criticizes the Israeli government automatically is antisemitic and is criticizing Jews. In contrast, anyone who sides with the Palestinian people is viewed as supporting Hamas and its terrorist activities.

Not all Palestinians are terrorists, and not all who oppose actions of Israel are antisemitic.

Synonymous thinking is alive and flourishing today. It is expressed as part of a movement advocating the social and political dominance of a white Christian nationalist America.

For example, synonymous thinkers steeped in that racial or ethnic framework tend to oppose diversity programs designed to help individuals understand and appropriately interact with individuals of differing groups.

Such diversity programs flourished in recent years until white Christian nationalists gained enough political and governmental influence to cancel many public diversity programs.

What to watch for

All such synonymous thinking is wrapped in a dangerous explosive mix of emotional thinking, ready to explode at any time. Beware of anyone seeking a leadership position when he or she begins speaking by saying, “Everyone knows …” or, “It has always been this way …” Those phrases always have been tricks to get those listening to engage in synonymous thinking.

A secular government does not automatically make for a secular, nonreligious or “godless” society. The so-called Founding Fathers wanted a secular government that would permit a wide range of religious beliefs, institutions and activities. In that sense, they were progressive thinkers, not synonymous thinkers.

It is important that individuals choose and follow reasonable people and honest communicators as their leaders. May God help us all to find realistic and clear-thinking individuals who are not wedded to synonymous thinking. Such people are good at protecting the separation of church and state.

The freest people tend to be those who live where there is truly a separation of church and state.

Leon Blevins is retired professor of government at El Paso Community College. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

“We have a bum sleeping on our porch,” announced a thrift store volunteer one morning as the manager walked through the door.

Momentarily taken aback, the thrift store manager said, “His name is Ben, and God sent him as a guardian angel to watch over our store at night.”

Ben (not his real name) had been sleeping under the awning by the front door, next to a shopping cart filled with everything he owned. He had come to the Baptist Temple Food Pantry seeking food.

Ben sat down with a pantry minister who asked questions designed to help get to the roots of why he needed aid and help him to develop a plan toward greater independence. It turns out Ben, a disabled veteran, was living on the streets and probably had benefits available.

In the past, Baptist Temple would distribute food once per month. People would line up in the afternoon heat, hours in advance of the distribution, many attracted by the inviting logo on the side of the San Antonio Food Bank truck.

As soon as we were set up, they would sign in and receive a shopping cart filled with groceries. Speed and efficiency were our goals. Get them food and get them out. We were fast.

A better way

It troubled me that our rush prevented us from truly ministering to the people God had sent our way. Feeding the hungry is a good, Christ-honoring thing, but can we do it in a way that is more life affirming? Furthermore, people were given food they might not particularly desire, such as a 2-gallon bladder of latte or a case of frozen pie. There had to be a better way.

There was. We changed to a client-choice food pantry, open twice a week, out of our desire to make a better relational connection with our neighbors. Everyone who comes into the pantry sits with a minister to fill out the paperwork. If the client has other needs, further resources are provided or recommended.

More importantly, the ministers offer a listening ear, words of comfort and prayer in an unhurried atmosphere. Often, people who find themselves in grim circumstances feel unwanted and unheard.

After the interview and prayer, the client is awarded a number of points based on family size. The client then enters our little store and selects the items they want from an assortment of dry goods and fresh produce.

A better way for Ben

After a little research, the minister determined Ben did have benefits available. But for Ben to receive his benefits, he needed a bank account in which to deposit funds. That required an ID card. People experiencing homelessness need ID cards to find work, housing and federal benefits but often lack the supporting documents, residential address and money for fees.

Once the ID card was acquired, the next challenge was a mailing address to receive his debit card. So, Baptist Temple became his mailing address, and we diligently awaited the arrival of the plastic card that would lead to housing for Ben. Meanwhile, he slept under the awning.

It took a lot of steps to find housing for Ben. This would have been an overwhelming task to tackle alone. People living on the streets lack the connection of friends and family to help them through tough times. Life can be challenging to navigate alone as problems and setbacks snowball into catastrophe.

The Bible advises, “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, NIV).

Networking, a key component of business success, is essential for social survival. Baptist Temple stepped in, becoming that network for Ben.

Of course, the issue of homelessness is complex, especially when addiction and mental illness come into play, but there are some things we can do to help. Jesus taught us, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40, NIV).

Rev. Jorge Zayasbazan is the senior pastor of Baptist Temple in San Antonio. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

I am certain most of you have had to watch a loved one spiral down the path of self-destruction. Maybe you saw a friend succumb to a crippling addiction. Maybe you witnessed a family member break the law and ruin their life with a criminal conviction.

Whatever the specific details, I have no doubt virtually all of you have been forced to watch as, despite your best efforts, someone you love made terrible, self-destructive choices.

It’s precisely our love for these people that makes their self-inflicted ruin so painful. If we didn’t care about them, we wouldn’t be that bothered.

But if you’re a Christian, there is no terrible choice you can watch a loved one make that is more serious and devastating than the decision not to believe in Christ. No self-destructive choice should bring you more grief than seeing someone you care about decide not to trust in Jesus.

The passion of the Apostle Paul

There are numerous places in the Apostle Paul’s letters where he lays bare his soul for readers to see, where he exposes the profound inner agony and emotional suffering he has to endure. Paul was many things, but cold and closed-off was not one of them. And few passages show this more powerfully than Romans 9:1-5.

Students of Scripture often see Romans 9 primarily as the key battleground where Calvinists and Arminians like to duke it out. This is a shame. Although Romans 9 has significant, direct relevance to questions about divine election and predestination, this chapter is not primarily about those doctrines, at least not in the abstract.

No, Paul’s focus in Romans 9 (and Romans 10 through 11) is much more personal and painful. Paul was born and raised a devout Jew, a son of Israel. And Paul’s embrace of Jesus as Israel’s Messiah did nothing to dampen Paul’s love for his Jewish countrymen. Even though Christ appointed Paul as “Apostle to the Gentiles,” Paul desperately tried, again and again, also to persuade his fellow Israelites to trust and worship Jesus as Messiah.

But for the most part, it didn’t work. One of the great crises facing the early church was widespread Jewish rejection of Jesus. Even though Jesus and all of his earliest followers were Jewish, within the first generation or two of Christianity, the majority of Christians were Gentiles and the majority of Jews did not accept Christ.

Romans 9-11 represents Paul’s most detailed attempt to process this difficult fact. And this section of Romans begins not with the apostle posing a stimulating yet coolly detached intellectual question, but with Paul pouring out his grief. “I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart,” he says (9:2 CSB).

Perhaps most shockingly, Paul goes so far as to say, “I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the benefit of my brothers and sisters” (9:3). There’s a part of Paul that almost would be willing to give up his own salvation forever if it meant salvation for his fellow Israelites.

Do we believe what Paul says?

Paul serves as a prime example of how we ourselves should feel about our own loved ones who do not believe in Jesus Christ. Paul is full of emotional agony that nearly breaks him. Only the grace of God can sustain Paul through the pain of seeing people he desperately loves reject Jesus.

Why are more of us not like Paul in this regard? Why am I not more consistently like Paul in this way? One method I have seen Christians use to try to avoid pain like Paul’s is embracing alternative views of what ultimately happens to those who don’t trust in Jesus.

The traditional Christian view of the fate of those who don’t believe is eternal, conscious torment in hell. But there are many alternatives which some—including myself in the past—have been tempted to embrace.

Universalism teaches all people eventually will be saved. Annihilationism teaches those in hell eventually cease to exist. Inclusivism teaches there are paths to salvation outside of faith in Christ.

I don’t have space to refute these alternative views in detail, but many people have written much to that end. I’ll just ask this: If Paul understands there to be any hope of salvation and eternal life outside of believing in Christ, why is he so upset in Romans 9:1-5? If all his countrymen eventually will be saved, or they at least have a decent shot at salvation without faith in Jesus, why is Paul full of such emotional agony over their rejection of Christ?

Attractive as they may be, alternative views of final judgment and hell ultimately don’t do justice to Scripture, and they cannot be the way we calm our own troubled souls.

Let the pain push us to proclaim and pray

Many Christians do not embrace alternative views of hell, yet they still do not experience the same kind of inner turmoil Paul does over their loved ones’ unbelief. Why is that? I’m not a mind reader. I don’t know people’s hearts. But I have a theory: We just try not to think about it.

It is extremely tempting simply not to think about the eternal fate of our unbelieving loved ones precisely because those thoughts are so painful. We gloss over or simply ignore Scripture passages about final judgment and hell. We avoid talking about the wrath of God. We don’t outright deny the truth so much as we try to evade facing it head-on.

But Paul faces the truth head-on. He knows what awaits his beloved fellow Israelites if they don’t turn to Christ. And it brings him incredible anguish. But it also motivates him to proclaim the gospel all the more passionately and pray all the more fervently for the salvation of those who don’t know Jesus.

All of us should learn from Paul’s example. He accepts the hard truth, and it grieves him, but he does not let this grief paralyze him. Rather, he redoubles his evangelistic efforts. If we truly love people who don’t know Christ, we should do everything we can to persuade them to repent and believe.

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

“Wade, you have got to learn to let people be wrong!”

Like most rebukes, this piece of advice offered by an exasperated friend after another contentious seminary debate was not received with gratitude.

I had known the man who offered it for nearly a decade, and I knew he could be just as acerbic in his criticism of others as I was.

Moreover, I knew he had a penchant for controversial, or even heretical, viewpoints, and I was determined not to let him get away with even the smallest intellectual infraction. I even saw my combativeness as an obligation laid upon me by Christ when he called me to be a minister and theologian.

With 25 years of hindsight, I now realize my friend was right. As Steve Cuss has pointed out, what might pass for passion for truth is often a manifestation of unrecognized anxiety, and this certainly was true in my case. I needed to humble myself. I needed to change. Otherwise, I always would be an impediment to unity.

Humility and the Christian faith

I always have had a difficult time defining humility, but I know it when I see it.

I have another friend who modeled it for me without even meaning to do so. She is the most gifted person I ever have met—pretty, athletic, musical and able to master any intellectual endeavor, from cooking to calculus.

I never felt worthy of her. I even told her husband once, paraphrasing John the Baptist, “I must decrease; she must increase.” And yet, she always treated me as an equal.

Indeed, she called forth more out of me than I believed I was capable of, and she did so without minimizing the obstacles I would have to overcome to meet her expectations and without belittling me when I could not overcome them.

That’s humility. It is laying aside ourselves to elevate and celebrate others. It is also recognizing our limitations and that we are sinful, contingent beings that need correction from others.

But more than anything, humility is a way of life and a habit of the mind in which we lay aside our obsessions with self-protection and self-enhancement and find the placidity that can come only with absolute love for God and dedicated love for others.

If that sounds like the heart of the Christian ethical framework—or even the heart of the gospel itself—to you, then you have been reading Matthew’s Gospel in the way the writer intended.

Texts like Matthew 16:21-27, 20:20-28 and 22:34-40 (among many others) drive home the point that Jesus did not come simply to offer us a “get-out-of-hell-free” card. He came to draw us into a different kind of life, one that frees us from our obsession with saving ourselves and frees us to follow him on the road of sacrificial love.

It is Paul who makes the connection explicit between this life-orientation and humility (Philippians 2:5-11). Everything Jesus did was an act of humility.

He entrusted himself fully to God and became one of us. He endured the deprivations and tragedies of life, refusing to wield wealth or status as a shield against their devastating impact. He even endured the shameful experience of crucifixion.

And the mindset that motivated him to endure that kind of humiliation is precisely the mindset Paul wanted his converts to cultivate.

Humility and Christian unity

But what does all of that have to do with unity? As the argument of Philippians 2:1-4 suggests, everything.

Humility is not about lacking commitment to the truth. It is not about lacking the courage to take difficult stands. It is about rightly understanding ourselves, properly empathizing with the “other” and recognizing the ultimate sovereignty of God.

Humility shifts our focus from our own agenda to the agenda of Christ, from our own discomfort with disagreement to our compassion for others, from our desire to assuage our many and varied anxieties to our desire to see Christ glorified in all things.

Of course, there always will be those who refuse to embrace the Christian life as Paul understood it. They will weaponize humility for their own ends, using it to suppress dissent and elevate themselves.

But construing humility in the way Jesus and Paul model will help us discern who the real purveyors of pride are, and it will give us the ability to resist them both in word and deed. Moreover, it will give us the confidence to assert the authority Christ has given us for the protection of his sheep without overstepping that authority.

Humility does not require a denigration of our own calling or gifting. But, as Paul points out (Romans 14:4; 1 Corinthians 4:3-5), it does require us to keep in mind the limits Christ has placed on our authority and the limits on our knowledge that are inherent in being human.

A personal struggle

This is not an easy balance to strike. I struggle with it every day. And the struggle only gets harder when we find ourselves in the midst of a public controversy.

As the back and forth between egalitarians and complementarians has demonstrated, a theological issue does not have to be core to the gospel to have lasting and painful repercussions for the church.

Indeed, if N.T. Wright and Michael Bird are correct about the church’s function in the world, our misapprehensions of God’s will and misapplications of God’s word can have unpleasant consequences for the entire created order.

Still, I have come to realize this is more pressure than I can bear. Yes, I have been called and gifted by God for his service, but I cannot run the world—or even the church. Moreover, I too quickly cede the solid ground of God’s grace in favor of my longstanding anxiety that being wrong will send me, or the church at large, hurdling into divine judgment.

So, I keep working each day to better balance my calling to shepherd God’s sheep and protect them from the wolves with my need to leave the results of my work in God’s hands.

Like Paul, I’m not even the final authority on my own life. I certainly can’t guarantee your fidelity to Christ. All I can do is use my love, logic and whatever else God gives me to point you to him.

If we all lived out our calling with that balance in mind, unity would be more achievable and more desirable.

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

The Summer 2024 issue of Christian Ethics Today includes a sermon on affirming transgenderism by Ryon Price, senior pastor of Broadway Baptist Church in Fort Worth.

Price claims certain Bible verses provide for such affirmation. These verses are taken out of context, however. Christians need to be aware Price’s view is not as biblical as he claims.

Price states his three core convictions for why he believes transgender and gender-fluid individuals should be welcomed and affirmed in the church and society:

1. “Everyone is made in the imago Dei—image of God.”
2. “The image of God is not biological, sexual, genital or congenital, but spiritual.”
3. And citing Paul: “If anyone is in Christ, therefore, there is a new creation,” (2 Corinthians 5:17) and “In Christ … there is neither male nor female; for [we] are all one [in substance] in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28).

Arguing from Paul

However, Paul’s discussion concerns salvation in Jesus. In other words, in matters of salvation there no longer is male or female, not in gender or ethnic roles. Paul is not claiming gender and race cease to exist, but rather the disunity that still exists can be united only in and through the salvific work of Christ Jesus.

Paul does not negate male and female (Genesis 1:27; 5:2), but as Cardinal Albert Vanhoye and Peter Williams argue in their commentary on Galatians, contends that in Jesus we are a new creation unlike the first creation.

Furthermore, and for reasons unexplained, Price adds the phrase “in substance” to Galatians 3:28. This phrase is not in the Greek text. According to at least one Greek dictionary, there are four words in Greek for ‘substance’: ouisia, huparchonta, huparxis and hupostasis. None of them are found in Galatians 3:28. Nor are they found in Greek interlinear Bibles.

Price uses the phrase “in substance” to link the idea of its plasticity to support the concept of gender fluidity. He claims, “There is mutuality, and there is diversity, and there is fluidity in creation because there is mutuality, diversity, and fluidity in God.”

Arguing from Jesus

Like angels

Price also refers to Jesus words in Matthew 22:25-30—“that people will not marry or be given in marriage in heaven, but instead, ‘they [are] like angels’”—to argue: “In fact, sex is not a definite or defining characteristic of angels. It’s not a fixed category. Neither is gender.”

“And my question,” he continues, “is in Jesus saying that people one day will be ‘like angels’ in heaven, was Jesus not more than just implying that the roles of sex and gender ought not be considered too definite, too fixed, and too eternal? That they will be changed?”

Commenting on Matthew 22:30, Bill Muehlenberg quotes Michael Wilkins argues: “Jesus does not suggest that humans become angels; rather, in the same way that angelic beings do not marry or procreate, the resurrected state ends the practice of marriage and issues in entirely new relationships between resurrected humans.”

Likewise, Muehlenberg quotes Robert Stein: “Since there is no longer death in the age to come, the need to procreate through marriage will have ceased (see Genesis 1:28). Thus marriage as we know it will cease to exist.”

Price’s view of comparing transgenderism with human beings changing to be like or as angels is not supported by his application of the text of Scripture.

Eunuchs

Price also cites Matthew 19:12, claiming: “Jesus himself said about such people: ‘There are eunuchs who were born that way … The one who can accept this should accept it.”

From Jesus’ words about eunuchs, Price goes on to say: “It is theological. And it is biblical. It is pastoral. And it is also Christian.”

R.T. France, in his commentary on Matthew, contended: “To be ‘born a eunuch’ appears to refer to those who are physiologically incapable of procreation.”

Clinton Arnold, in his commentary on Matthew, wrote: “Some Eunuchs have been born impotent … born without properly developed genitalia, like hermaphrodites.”

And Curtis Mitch and Edward Sri, in their commentary on Matthew, explain: “Jesus speaks of eunuchs by nature (men who were impotent, injured or suffered a birth defect.)”

Preston Sprinkle, on Theology in the Raw, wrote: “The Romans classified eunuchs into three categories: spadones, who were infertile males from birth; thlibiae, whose testicles had been ‘pressed;’ thladiae, whose testicles had been ‘crushed;’ and castrati, whose unit was cut off or lost altogether.”

Further on, Sprinkle notes: “Eunuchs were most often considered sexually male even if they didn’t always match up to the societal standards of masculinity.”

Conclusion

In conclusion, Price is not applying proper exegetical analysis of these verses, but rather is applying eisegesis to these verses as a way of implying Paul and Jesus claim some third gender or sex that exists somewhere between male and female, in sexless angels, and in some born as eunuchs.

Cristian Cervantes is an adjunct lecturer of biblical and theological studies at Baptist University of the Américas and a member of First Baptist Church in San Antonio. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

Many of us would agree with what a friend of mine recently said: “I think I’m ready to live in some precedented times.”

It is fair to say, even during the best of times, presidential elections bring out the worst in people. All too often, Christian engagement in contemporary American politics reflects the tendencies in the broader culture rather than a faithful Christian witness.

What follows are some suggested guidelines for Christian political engagement. These by no means are exhaustive. My hope is they might serve as helpful reminders as we navigate the highly charged atmosphere of the current political season.

The temptation for many Christians is to bury their heads in the sand due to the negativity and nastiness of contemporary politics. Instead, we are called to be active in the world to—in the words of Micah 6:8—“Do justice and love mercy” and to “seek the welfare of the city” as Jeremiah explains.

As N.T. Wright and Michael F. Bird declare in their new book, Jesus and the Powers, “Christ’s kingdom may not be of the world, but it is for the world.” It is our obligation, in other words, to be “salt of the earth” and “light of the world.”

Guidelines for Christian political engagement

In light of these considerations, what guidelines might Christians consider for political engagement?

1. Don’t make God a Republican or a Democrat.

It is important to recognize no political party has a stranglehold on truth or moral purity. Christians should remind themselves parties exist primarily to mobilize voters to win elections. Their purpose is to gain power.

Christians risk frustration—or worse, manipulation—when we baptize a particular party or political agenda.

What if Christians embraced a political agenda that transcended party loyalty?

2. Do not bear false witness against your political opponents.

This is particularly difficult to do in a polarized climate where demonization, fear mongering and conspiracy theories seem to prevail. Christians sometimes can be the worst purveyors of political lies and often adopt an “end justifies the means” ethic to rationalize their rhetoric.

What if Christians challenged false claims of both their political opponents and allies? What if they refused to engage in the politics of personal destruction?

3. Recognize politics is the “art of the compromise.”

Rather than insisting on ideological purity, Christians should accept compromise is at the heart of democratic governance. Not much can be achieved unless members of both parties reach across the partisan divide to get legislation passed.

While Christians should not ignore or set aside their convictions, they too often have let their religious ideals shape unrealistic policies, often making perfect the enemy of the good.

What if Christians were known for finding common ground on difficult political issues?

4. Take a holistic view when choosing candidates.

On July 4, 1827, Presbyterian minister Richard Ely delivered a sermon entitled “The Duty of Freemen to Elect Christian Elders.” Ely’s argument is one that would be echoed in many churches to this present day.

Yet, theological litmus tests for political leaders are problematic as many of our most consequential presidents—Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt and others—might not fit the Christian mold some seek.

This is not to say the personal character of a political candidate does not matter. At the very least, Christians should demand politicians possess leadership virtues, such as wisdom, moderation, humility, courage and selflessness.

What if Christians demanded integrity from all of our leaders, no matter their party affiliation or political ideology?

5. Avoid oversimplifying complex issues.

Most public policy issues are complex and defy easy solutions. Can foreign policy, health care, immigration and the economy really be addressed in a political sound bite?

Christians in particular should avoid the temptation to oversimplify public policies and affirm Paul’s recognition that we all “see through a glass darkly.” Recognizing complexity might soften our stances and make us willing to dialogue more honestly with those with whom we disagree.

As former U.S. senator and Episcopal priest John Danforth has said: “The problem is not that Christians are conservative or liberal, but that some are so confident that their position is God’s position that they become dismissive and intolerant toward others and divisive forces in national life.”

What if Christians exemplified humility in the public square, rather than self-righteousness?

6. Pursue policies that reflect love of neighbor and advance the common good.

The old adage about American politics is people vote “according to their pocketbooks.” This remains the case today, as the economy ranks high among voters in this presidential election year.

To be sure, taxes and other economic policies matter and have a significant impact on the wellbeing not just of ourselves, but of others. Yet, as we consider economic and other policies, are we concerned primarily about our own welfare or the good of others, especially the poor and powerless?

What if Christians prioritized policies that benefited “the least of these”?

7. Model active and informed citizenship.

Political apathy and ignorance are widespread in the United States. The average citizen often is disengaged or ill-informed. Information is abundant, but too often what we encounter online is not intended to inform.

Too many of our preachers, pundits and politicians are ramping up fear and manufacturing outrage, rather than encouraging us to “come and let us reason together.”

The easy approach is to gravitate toward news sources that confirm our biases, while informed citizenship requires persistence and discernment.

What if Christians practiced fair-minded and fact-based political advocacy?

8. Pray for all nations and their leaders.

In some ways, Christians in the United States have triple citizenship. We are citizens of the kingdom of God, citizens of the United States and global citizens.

Naturally, we tend to invest our emotional energy in the issues of our own communities and country, to the neglect of the very serious challenges faced by people around the globe. Christians should strive to foster a greater global awareness that may put our parochial political disputes in perspective.

What if Christians saved their moral outrage for the persistence of poverty, famine, civil war and genocide around the world, rather than petty partisan squabbles?

*******

None of these guidelines are meant to suggest Christians should be passive participants in American politics. To be sure, there are times when Christians should express righteous indignation in the face of injustice, as well as call out political leaders when they fall short.

At the same time, Christians often do not cultivate, in the words of theologian Miroslav Volf, “habits of wise reflection.”

What if Christians modeled a political engagement that reflected wisdom and honored Christ?

*******

J. David Holcomb is professor of history and political science at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor and a member of Meadow Oaks Baptist Church in Temple. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.

I drive by it at least once a month—the old First Baptist Church in Glen Rose.

The old sanctuary is on Barnard Street. The building still stands, though it no longer is used by the congregation of people who form the actual First Baptist Church. After all, the church is not a building. It is a gathering, and that gathering outgrew the old sanctuary. They now meet on Highway 67. The church thrives to this day.

But the building still stands as a sentry on Barnard Street. The First United Methodist Church bought the building and now uses it for a fellowship hall and day care, if I am not mistaken.

I pass by this building with its light brown brick, tall steeple and huge concrete steps leading from the street up to the front doors of the church. When I was a kid, those steps were a lot taller.

The building indeed was the largest church building in the little town of 1,554 people. I know the population back then, because working for the Texas Highway Department through college, I replaced the old population sign with a new one that listed more people.

The building was much larger when I was a kid. Is it possible it shrank over the years like my height from the wear and tear of 60-some-odd years? I doubt it.

Church services

In my mind’s eye, I walk back into the sanctuary, which had an overflow room adjacent to the foyer. It also had a balcony that would be full. It had four sections of pews on the main floor, light brown in color.

The carpet was red. There was a pulpit on stage with the piano to the left, an organ to the right. There was a huge choir loft of red chairs and red carpet behind the pulpit. Above the choir loft was the baptistry, where I was baptized not once but twice.

Man, I can still see the crowd. Every pew was filled with people.

The deacons were led by Howard Brawley. The ushers by Sid Mims. The choir by Marcus Goehlke. The building cleaned by Olene Stout. The Sunday school led by Emmit Tidwell. The organ played by Mrs. Connally. The piano played by Sue Goehlke, I think, and sometimes by my mom.

I can hear the special music sung sometimes by a little girl named DeLayne Finley. She was probably a second grader.

I still hear her sing the song requested often: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, all the days, all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever, and I will feast at the table spread for me. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me, all the days, all the days of my life.”

Scripture memory

Then the preacher would step into the pulpit. Not a tall man, but a healthy man named Bro. Dewayne Finley. He had a gift all in the town recognized. He could preach.

God would use his voice to cut into the hearts of the listeners, drawing them to a true, sincere walk with God. I know. I saw it with my own eyes.

There was something else he did that has followed me all the days of my life. He taught us a memory verse he had us repeat each Sunday—Jeremiah 33:3: “Call unto me and I will answer thee and show thee great and mighty things which thou knowest not.”

I can still recite that verse to this day.

A few years ago, I was helping my Uncle Jerry. I did not remember him being in the church back then. But then again, in my mind, how could I see him among the thousands each Sunday. The congregation was much bigger in my mind. I bet there were only a few hundred, really.

Anyway, I was helping Uncle Jerry, and he began to reminisce about Bro. Finley. Then he quoted Jeremiah 33:3, mind you 50 years afterward. He said he never would forget that verse we were taught.

A bigger God

I visited the old sanctuary a few years back with the permission of First United Methodist’s janitor. The sanctuary is used as an activity room for kids. It was much smaller than I remembered. No way thousands ever fit here.

In the silence, as the janitor left me to myself, I could hear DeLayne singing. I could hear the congregation rise from their seats to quote Jeremiah 33:3, then see Bro. Finley open God’s word to preach.

Everything was bigger then. Nothing was as big as my little mind believed. But the God I serve, the One who beckons me to call upon his name, he is bigger than I remember. He is bigger than I conceive now. He always will be bigger than anything I ever will face. He is God, and above him there is no other. Call unto him, and he will answer you.

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