I love living at the start of the Internet age. I don’t think we tend to appreciate how world-changing and culture-shaping the Internet is, or how recent its development is. We’re living in a time that’s not unlike the invention of the printing press in the 15th century. Human communication has been completely revolutionized, seemingly overnight.

Jake Raabe

I have no doubt the beginning of the 21st century will be remembered as one of the most important moments in human history for this reason. What a time to be alive!

As amazing as the Internet is, it unfortunately also tends not to bring out the best in people. The Internet, and social media in particular, can pose a real spiritual danger if we do not use it wisely and interact with it with our Christian convictions in mind.

We have the ability to speak to people we’ve never met and likely never will meet face-to-face, and we often use that ability poorly. If someone voices a left-leaning opinion on healthcare issues, we call them a “leftist” or “Marxist” and ignore what they’re saying. If someone voices a traditional view on marriage and sexuality, we call them “bigot” or “on the wrong side of history” and move on in a feeling of superiority.

Clouding discussions

Online, insults and partisan statements too often cloud important discussions.

Would we do these things face-to-face? If I were talking to someone and they told me they supported a single-payer healthcare option, I can’t imagine calling him a “Marxist” and walking away. I was raised better than that!

Why is it OK for me to do this on the Internet, then? The World Wide Web seems to bring out less than our best in everyone, Christians included. There’s a spiritual danger to the way we treat one another online, one that goes even further than rudeness and lack of civility.

The real spiritual danger of the Internet age is that it can encourage that oldest and greatest of sins—pride. When we dismiss and belittle the opinions of others without listening to them or considering their actual merits, we imply our own opinions are so obviously correct that no other ideas merit consideration. This amount of self-certainty is not allowed to Christians, who are called to humility and awareness of our fallibility.

More than rude

When we reject someone’s views by belittling them, we’re doing more than being rude: we’re rejecting the Bible’s admonition to “be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,” and we’re rejecting the idea we need to listen to others because we ourselves could be wrong.

It’s easy to toss out a random insult or degradation on an article we disagree with or a Facebook status we don’t like. But doing that has bigger implications than we realize. Calling someone a “leftist” or a “fundamentalist” implies our side always is correct, and we can reject any idea from someone who doesn’t think the same as us.

It essentially is claiming we are perfect. A perfect person is cannot be taught, cannot learn, cannot grow. Mistakenly claiming we or our group is perfect cuts us off from the opportunity for these things.

Called to challenge

A person who doesn’t think they need improvement or correction is a person who isn’t following God.

The church is called to be a challenge to the world, showing it a better way to live under Christ’s leadership. Our current culture is hyper-partisan and encourages us to reject anybody who doesn’t think or act like us.

The church should be an alternative to that, teaching the world how to have productive, mature conversations and to disagree with grace and consideration. We don’t all have to agree, but we do have to work together respectfully as members of Christ’s body.

Be careful what you type; the spiritual danger of Internet outrage is real.

Jake Raabe is a student at Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas and a writer. Follow him on his Facebook page.

What should be Christians’ attitude and action toward their rulers? The most common answer given to that question is likely going to be based on passages from the Apostle Paul’s letters (Romans 13:1-7, Titus 3:1-2), which talk directly about rulers and governing authorities and command believers to be in subjection. This biblical counsel is presented as a general rule or principle.

Patrick Adair

There are other possible Biblical answers to the question, however. Richard Hays, in The Moral Vision of the New Testament identifies four ways in which Scripture guides our moral thought and action:

• Rules—direct commands

• Principles—a more general framework for making decisions, such as “Do unto others ….”

• Paradigms—positive or negative examples

• Creating a “symbolic world”—a worldview that that helps us see who we are as humans and who God is

If we apply these categories to the question of Christian attitude and action toward government and rulers, we discover a range of possibilities.

Rules and principles

1. “Be in subjection”—Romans 13:1-5, Titus 3:1-2

Both the letters to the Romans and Titus instruct believers to be subject—obedient—to government. Paul includes commentary in the passage in Romans that describes human government as instituted by God to punish evil. It is important to note Paul here assumes the government in question—the Roman Empire, in his case—generally acts to reward good and punish evil.

2. Pay taxes—Mark 12:13-17, Romans 13:6-7

Both Jesus and Paul affirm paying taxes. Additionally, in Romans 13, believers are instructed to give custom and honor to those to whom they are due.

3. Pray—1 Timothy 2:1-2

Timothy is instructed, and it is implied, he should instruct others, to pray for rulers, specifically for the sake of peace.

Paradigms or examples

1. Denouncement—In the Old Testament, the examples of figures stepping up to denounce immoral behavior and injustice in government are nearly too many to name. Calling out rulers on their sin or on their apathy toward the poor—especially orphans, widows and immigrants—is practically at the top of the job description for a prophet. The prophets Samuel, Nathan, Elijah, Elisha, Amos, Hosea, Micah, Zephaniah, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel, among others, all did this.

In the New Testament, John the Baptist condemned the sin of Herod Antipas, son of Herod “the Great” (Matthew 14:3-4). Paul implicitly condemns the Roman Empire in 1 Thessalonians 5:3, quoting the boasts of the emperors who claimed to bring peace and safety. His description of the “man of lawlessness” in 2 Thessalonians 2:3-4 may be a reference to the Emperor Caligula, who planned to place a statue of himself in the Jewish temple. Paul’s general principle of following the law does not contradict his ability to critique the idolatry of empire.

Most interestingly, Jesus denounces Herod Antipas as well. Warned by the Pharisees—in an attempt to scare him into silence—that Herod Antipas planned to kill him, Jesus responded, “Go and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out demons today and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I reach my goal’” (Luke 13:31-32). This was not a compliment. It was, at the least, a critique of Herod’s character and a comparison of their power in which Herod came up short.

2. Defiance—In the Old Testament, the Hebrew midwives disobeyed Pharaoh’s command to kill male Hebrew babies. Moses kept returning to the court of Pharaoh to seek the release of the Hebrew slaves each time he was expelled. Rahab hid the Hebrew spies. Jonathan defied his father Saul’s foolish order. Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego defied the idolatrous orders of kings. And Esther defied custom and thereby risked her life to save her people.

In the New Testament, Jesus’ statement on paying taxes also contains a limit to what can be offered a ruler. “Give to God what is God’s” means there are claims no human ruler has the right to make on a person. Jesus refuses to answer the Sanhedrin, Herod Antipas and Pilate at his various trials. Peter and John explicitly refuse to stop speaking in Jesus’ name (Acts 4:18-20). Each time Paul proclaimed “Jesus is Lord” or named Jesus as Lord was a defiance of the Roman custom of honoring Caesar as Lord. It even was printed on their money, “Caesar is Lord.” Again, Paul’s general counsel to obey the law does not contradict his ability to mark out some practices as idolatrous.

3. Violence—The issue of violence in the pursuit of justice in the Old Testament is too large a topic to treat here. In the New Testament, though, there is exactly one example of violence used against authorities, and it is a negative one. Peter’s clumsy sword swipe—nobody tries to cut off someone’s ear in a sword fight; he was aiming for his neck—at the high priests’ servant at Jesus’ arrest results in Jesus telling Peter to put away his sword and his healing of the servant (Luke 22:20-21, John 18:10-11).

Even in Revelation, a vision filled with violent imagery, it is noteworthy that the righteous never are called to take up arms. Although they repeatedly are challenged to “overcome,” their conquest lies in being faithful to follow the Lamb by holding to the truth and being willing to give up their lives rather than worship anyone else (Revelation 12:11).

Worldview

At the worldview level, the Bible is clear God is sovereign in history, and the resurrected Christ is the only true Lord of the world. The people of God are commanded to proclaim the gospel, to be salt and light, faithful to follow Christ’s example in loving God and their neighbor and speaking the truth.

The world as a whole does not recognize Christ’s Lordship, and so it is to be expected it will put in place rulers who are immoral, laws that are unjust or idolatrous, and customs not appropriate for the believer to follow. There will be Herods and Herodians who follow them until every knee bows and every tongue confesses Christ’s lordship.

The following is one attempt at a short summary of the range of biblical witness on a believer’s attitude and action toward rulers: Christians’ responsibility to government and rulers is to subject themselves to the authorities, provided that the law is for good and not for evil. This requires knowing the difference between good and evil! Christians are to pay their taxes. Christians are to pray that rulers would be instruments of peace. It is not a biblical mandate to denounce evil and immorality in government and in rulers or defy unjust law, but the Bible is filled with examples of such.

These examples are by no means exhaustive. Denunciation and defiance are not to be undertaken for the believer’s own sake or for any opposing party’s sake, but for God’s sake and the sake of the truth. The Christian is not to resort to violence. And the Christian must be ready to pay the consequences for any and all such behavior. Note how many of the examples were persecuted for their actions.

One final word on denouncing rulers: Those most interested in propping up a ruler will insist the only proper Christian response is the simplest. “Follow the rule! Honor those in authority and be subject. Simple.” We often prefer simple answers to complex questions. But, for grim humor, try to imagine the Herodians quoting something like Romans 13:1-5 to Jesus after he called Herod Antipas a fox. “Now, now, Jesus! Herod is your king. He may not be perfect, but we should try to support him instead of criticize him.” Not all rulers are equal.

We often prefer the simplicity of straightforward rules. If we find ourselves longing for such a thing in these days, I recommend 2 Timothy 3:1-5: “Realize this, that in the last days, difficult times will come. For men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant, revilers, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips, without self-control, brutal, haters of good, treacherous, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God; holding to a form of religion, although they have denied its power. Avoid such men as these.”

Patrick Adair is pastor of Central Baptist Church in Marshall, Texas.

It’s a glorious and beautiful day in Glorieta, N.M., where I’m attending Centrifuge along with the youth from my church. Before camp started, I had the “brilliant” idea to take the youth camping and backpacking nearby. We had a stupendous time, but I may have worn them out before camp even started!

Jonathan SmithTwelve youth accepted the hiking challenge. A strategic number? Of course! We even gave each disciple a nickname for one of the original Twelve.

Just before the hike started, I sat down with James, Peter, Nathaniel and the other disciples to discuss Jesus’s original call to many of the original Twelve. It was a simple teaching by Jesus: “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” As we headed up the mountain, we repeated the phrase many times, broken down into three parts.

Come, follow me

Jesus’s call to be a disciple was based on the ancient Near Eastern practice of apprenticeship. The invitation to follow Jesus was a practice found all over the ancient world. Apprenticeship was considered formal education. Interestingly enough, those 12 men already had been in an apprenticeship as fishermen, tax collectors and religious leaders. Jesus called them out of what was familiar and into a new path of life.

Notice Jesus called them into a rich relationship. By all appearances, Jesus and the Twelve were together most every day. They literally followed him so they could hear his teachings, observe his ministry practices and be equipped for their ministries.

Not limited to a classroom, Jesus called them into a relationship. Jesus’ style of disciple-making was every day, not just Sunday—well, Saturday for them actually. They cooked together, ate together, prayed together, traveled together, learned together, mourned together and experienced success together. As many have pointed out, they did so in “one accord”—because evidently, Jesus preferred Hondas. The discipleship of Jesus is personal, portable and practical.

“Come, follow me” and hear my teachings, see how I interact, observe my miracles, serve the least, learn about Old Testament interpretation, pick up exactly 12 baskets full of leftovers, “because one day soon, you will be doing the same, including asking others to follow you as you make disciples of the world.”

Let me ask you: Does “come, follow me” resemble the pathway of discipleship in your own life? Who are you following—and not just on Sunday? Who are you traveling with along the arduous path of being a disciple of Jesus? Who is there to pick you up? Is someone nearby to point out the cliff? And equally important, who are you leading to deeper “wells” rather than puny gods? To whom are you saying, “Come, follow me?”

And I will make you

Far too many church leaders have made discipleship about learning only. While the basic idea of a disciple is a learner, we’ve forgotten the reason Jesus had disciples to begin with—the furthering and completion of his mission. Jesus does the making! His life and ministry serve as the template for every disciple.

Many of you won’t like this next sentence, so know that I write it with a smile—an excellent practice when one is preaching hard truth: “If you aren’t being made into a minister and missionary, you are not a disciple of Jesus.”

Yes, bold! We have settled for making church disciples instead of making Jesus disciples. Church disciples sit and soak. Jesus disciples sit, soak and serve. They are “made” and equipped by pastors, teachers, evangelists and apostles because the fields are perpetually white unto harvest. Disciples of Jesus follow the practices of Jesus and the original Twelve. Novel idea.

For the last year, every 10 days, I sit with three men in their twenties and bare my soul, heart, sin, weaknesses and triumphs. We laugh, cry, pray, eat, fish, encourage and study together. When we finally finish our season of life together, we are going hiking for three nights. It’s been one of the most fruitful practices of my 26 years of ministry.

But with great intentionality, I’m preparing these men to turn around and lead a similar group on their own. Within the next 18 months, 12 more healthy disciples will be made through this simple process. What if all of those disciples made disciples? Within a matter of three years, hundreds of healthy disciple-making leaders could be born because of one disciple maker.

I’m certain if Jesus had Twitter in his incarnation, his handle would have been @Simply_Make_Disciples.

Let me ask you: Who is preparing you for ministry, evangelism and making disciples of others? Are you a pew-sitter, or are you following Jesus up the mountainside? Is there anything cheap about your personal discipleship? Who could you invite into your life for disciple making?

Fishers of men

Disciple making—think about the ultra-small group mentioned above—has always been the evangelism plan of Jesus. He trained the Twelve for ministry, and you are reading this article because of their ministry. He didn’t make them fishers of information. He didn’t make them fishers of church consumerism. He didn’t make them fishers of committees. Jesus took everyday, ordinary, simple people like you and me and made them into world changers, fishers of many men.

And if you will let him, he will make you into one who fishes for him.

I’m not much of a fisherman, but I have a new friend who is an incredible bass fisherman. He keeps an arsenal of over 100 lures at all times. I watched him catch a bass on eight casts in a row just a few weeks ago. Oh, that we would allow God to make us such successful fisherman. Perhaps, if we would follow Jesus’ practice of disciple making, our churches would baptize every week.

Are you fishing for more Bible knowledge or the transformation of others? Do you have a proverbial arsenal of ways to present the gospel? Do you know the names of your neighbors?

A healthy church

The church I pastor had $1.06 in the bank 11 years ago. By God’s grace and his gospel, our church campus is now for sale, and we are relocating to accommodate growth. I’m often asked by pastors, “How has this revitalization happened?” That’s a long discussion, but let me share the one main idea. How do you make a dying church healthy again? Programs? Culture? Friendliness? Parking lot greeters? Maybe. But the secret sauce is much more simple: Want a healthy church? Make healthy disciples.

“Come, follow me. And I will make you. Fishers of men.”

Jonathan L. Smith is the lead pastor of First Baptist Church in La Grange, a revitalized congregation. He is pursuing a doctoral degree in church health and growth from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. Follow Jonathan on Facebook.

Is conversion the cure we need? If more people became Christian, would we make progress on the social issues like racism, violence and poverty?

Garrett Vickrey

Prominent theologians and politicians say, “Yes.”

When asked what she thought were the deepest, systemic causes of generational poverty in San Antonio, Mayor Ivy Taylor responded, “It’s broken people … people not being in a relationship with their Creator, and therefore not being in a good relationship with their families and their communities … and not being productive members of society.” Mayor Taylor was voted out of office.

In his book, Bloodlines: Race, Cross and the Christian, best-selling author and pastor John Piper discusses the biblical argument for racial reconciliation for Christians but suggests what is needed is simply conversion. He argues the solution to racism “is not government help or self-help, but the gospel of Jesus Christ” and “what is needed is a miracle.”

Gov. Matt Bevin of Kentucky urged residents of Louisville to commit to walk in small groups through high-crime neighborhoods, pausing to pray at each corner and chat with people they meet two or three times a week for a year. The plan is built upon harnessing the power of prayer and evangelism for the sake of transforming violence and poverty.

More than conversion

These plans for civil transformation assume conversion is the cure. It assumes Christians behave. It assumes Christians really will love their neighbor. Yet we need more than conversion.

We also need calling.

When we consider the transcendent moments of conversion in Scripture, they often are associated with a call to action. Conversion provides a means to transforming not only the individual but the community.

The blinding light knocks Paul off his high horse. The risen Christ calls him to ministry that includes reconciling Jews and Gentiles under the banner of Christ Jesus. The blinding light is only the beginning of the story.

When he sees God sitting high and lofty on the throne with the host of seraphs asking, “Whom shall I send?” Isaiah answers, “Here am I; send me!” This acceptance of the lordship of God and the response to God’s call is not the end of the story but the beginning.

When Jesus walks by the shoreline calling the fishermen to be fishers of men, they leave their boats and follow him on the greatest journey of all.

Not enough

Conversion in the Bible does not mean perfection. The disciples scatter before the shadow of the cross. Even the converted in Acts fall prey to greed and deceit.

Mayor Taylor, Rev. Piper and Gov. Bevin are not the first public leaders to suggest conversion as the key to solving social ills. Conversion as a means of social transformation of institutions is not a new idea.

Civil rights leader John Perkins believed incarnational evangelism and personal salvation were the most significant impetuses for racial reconciliation. But Perkins was a Baptist whose study of the Bible also led him to agitate for change to public policy.

Clarence Jordan advocated for social change by starting Koinonia Farms in south Georgia to live out the teachings of Jesus. He believed the best way to solve the ills of society was to form beloved communities shaped by the Spirit of Jesus. The presence of a community like Koinonia was a testament to the radical call of discipleship.

Just the beginning

However, Perkins and Jordan believed conversion is just the beginning. After we are converted, we are invited to follow. The “miracle motif” espoused by Taylor, Piper and Bevin appears to assume conversion is the end.

And even though they are evangelicals, their theology grossly underestimates the power of sin.

John Perkins was jailed in Mississippi and tortured all night long by Bible-believing Christians. Even in the heart of the Bible Belt, Koinonia Farms repeatedly was the target of drive-by shootings—shootings rarely condemned by local churches. When Jordan died, the county coroner refused to come out to the farm to issue a death certificate.

The men who perpetrated these acts were Christians.

It’s going to take more than conversion to make progress on social ills like racism, violence and poverty. It’s going to take more than individual piety to create a more just society. The highly individualized theology of American Christianity leaves us hamstrung to face the social problems of our time.

The conversion cure subtly assumes If everyone had the same experience of Christ as I do, then everyone would be like me. If everyone were like me, then we would have peace and justice.

This is no cure. This is baptizing selfishness and calling it gospel.

The line between good and evil runs through each of us. We see through a glass darkly. We need to be cautious of any suggestion for a miracle cure for society’s ills this side of the kingdom of God—even when that suggestion is made in Jesus’ name.

Garrett Vickrey is pastor of Woodland Baptist Church in San Antonio.

Recently, I attended the National Association of Baptist Professors of Religion annual meeting in Nashville, Tenn. Our host for the conference was Belmont University, which invited us to their lovely campus filled with soaring neo-classical architecture. Every year, the society meets, and its members present papers in our various disciplines, such as biblical studies, theology and church history. We also discuss pedagogy in a Baptist context.

Jeremiah BaileyAs part of our welcome dinner, we heard two special guests. One was documentary filmmaker Cliff Vaughn, a talented observer of religion in America, who reflected helpfully on truth-telling and producing documentaries. The other, to my delighted surprise, was an indie rock musician, Corey Bishop, who offered us an acoustic solo set.

Two gifts

We learned Bishop was a graduate of the school’s religion department. He related a longer version of his story, telling us about his one-semester stint at Candler School of Theology, then a name change and pursuit of music.

Bishop ultimately imparted two gifts to me that evening: His delightfully playful lyrical style and an opportunity for self-reflection.

The self-reflection came from something that played out over the course of his set. He made comments and exhibited body language that indicated, at least on some level, his disconnection from and discomfort with his setting.

At one point, he explained he and his fiancée decided he probably should not play this one song, but with a slight sheepishness, he asked the audience if it would be all right if he did, noting it made references to drugs. Someone in the crowd shouted, “We’re Baptist professors, not aliens!” He went on to play the best song of the night—a rollicking jaunt extolling the superiority of love to all other highs, clearly speaking from experience. It was a great set, and everyone had a good time.

No excuse

What really struck me about this exchange was this is someone who had been part of the Baptist community and still, after some time away, defaulted to an understanding of Baptists as prudish and obsessively boundary-policing. Reflecting on this fact, I must assume his experiences led to such caution.

Frankly, given the Bible we have, there is no real excuse for Baptists to be prudish and to shrink from the discussion of all manner of things in society.

The Book of Genesis alone has more sex, rape, murder, betrayal, incest, genocide, theft, drunkenness and prostitution than Game of Thrones. The records of the kings of Israel and Judah likewise are filled with plots, intrigues and assassinations. Not to mention that, erroneous allegorizing aside, we have an entire book of the Bible that consists of an extended poem to erotic love. If you ever want a congregation to be surprised by Scripture, explain to them what many scholars think the Song of Solomon really means when it says, “Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks blended wine”!

Stepping away from simply salacious examples—by modern American standards—this issue of communicating in an exclusively churchy way, an idiom of ecclesiastical prudishness, goes far beyond being able to talk about sex and murder and such. The Scriptures do not shy away from the full spectrum of human emotion and experience. In particular, I always have been struck by the humanity of the Psalms, which put on stark display much of what we as individuals often try so hard to hide.

Frank reflections

I do not think it is an accident our Bible contains in the Psalms and prophets frank reflections on the apparent injustice of the world, expressions of uncertainty and declarations of pain. Scriptures voice the doubts of the people about the promises of God and make no effort to hide even the ugliest expressions of their suffering.

When facing the loss of their nation and the difficult theological questions arising from the destruction of the temple, the Psalmist vents the rage of his people, crying out to God his desire that the infants of his oppressors should be killed. I do not take the presence of that Psalm in our Bible to be an endorsement of its ideas but rather an acknowledgment of the limits of humans to cope with suffering and their need to relate those experiences to God.

If God really did have a hand in forming our Bible, then we ought to acknowledge it is necessary for the church to make room for the full gamut of human experiences and emotions.

We need to make a space for people to ask honestly without a preconceived or pat answer, “Why do the wicked prosper?” We need to make space for people to express their doubts about God and their fears. And, yes, we need to make room for people to talk about sex and sometimes drugs—and rock and roll, too, if it is a part of their story.

Churches are for people, and people are complicated. We’re human, and the records of our faith have not flinched in the face of that fact, so why should our churches?

We’re Baptists, not aliens.

Jeremiah Bailey is a doctoral student at Baylor University specializing in the study of the New Testament and early Christianity. He attends Lake Shore Baptist Church in Waco and is writing a dissertation on First Clement.

“As I sit here on the eve of one of the greatest sporting events that we have in sports … race and what’s going on comes again.”—Lebron James

One of the most anticipated showdowns has come and gone. We’ve chosen sides, and with exacerbated angst, we have watched grueling head-to-heads, seeing two teams survive a head-on collision.

Dante WrightIn both teams, we find our hopes and dreams for greatness, we celebrate talent and relish in victory. We hear once again the “sideline coaches” quoting stats verbatim, analyzing years’ worth of film, predicting the outcome of a glorious battle on the court that is determined more by the heart of the team than by the skill of the players.

But this battle, this championship, this NBA Finals was overshadowed. Something far less glorious and far more sinister took the court.

Racism.

Lebron James sat down at a press conference to talk about basketball, but the first question he had to answer was that of race. The security gate that guards his Los Angeles home was violated with the word “NIGGER” spray-painted across its surface. This gate, while it protected his family from intruders, could not protect Lebron, his family, nor this country from a far more powerful intruder.

Racism.

Once again, racism

Instead of opening the press conference with questions about team preparedness, strategy or even competitive banter, we had to endure roughly three minutes of the race conversation. Once again, racism overshadowed one of our favorite pastimes.

My initial reaction was anger and frustration at the idea that racism stole the limelight from the NBA Finals. I have since had time to process these events and have determined it is not racism that interrupted the NBA Finals, but the NBA Finals served as a distraction from the issue of racism.

The fact we are upset that racism interrupts our fun is an indication we have our priorities mix up. However, there are few and far in between who notice we expend more energy trying to hide racism than we do actually grappling with this pressing issue. The common concern is not for eradicating racism, but for racism to stop interrupting our comforts, as if conversations around race have no business popping up in our sports, our education, our politics and our churches. In fact, it seems the common consensus is we have moved past racism, save for a few strongholds that make us look bad.

Ugly head

What this year’s NBA Finals taught us is that racism rears its ugly head anywhere and everywhere. Racism did not steal the thunder of the finals. Rather, the finals served as a distraction to the real problem of this country. Much like the gladiatorial events of ancient Rome served as a distractor away from the constant and costly wars, the heavy taxes, the immense poverty and the low national morale, we seek gladiatorialesque opportunities to silence conversations around race.

However, this country and this world have a funny way of making us come back to the conversation.

The race conversation is not the distraction; it is the pervasive problem we all seek to hide. This is the hard truth we must understand—we have designed a society that actively seeks to run away from its perpetual sin. We find other problems deemed more important and hide behind the adrenaline rush of action-packed sports filled with players who constantly combat racial stereotypes yet are told to be quiet because they are lucky to be paid millions.

We find ways to veto the voice of the dissenting because, after all, this is sports, not politics. There is no room to talk about race, only to enjoy the game.

But when will we actually turn our attention to the problem at hand? When will we reveal the true nature of our love for sports, news, politics and the like? Our love for these spheres of influence are but distractions, used to delegitimize the problem of race in our country.

Troubling history

In particular, sports has a troubling history of not only segregation, but also the classic “we’ve been good to you people” line of reasoning. For sure a micro-aggression, this logic falsely asserts that because a person of color reaches a certain level of economic, educational or professional achievement, their race and racism no longer apply to them. And where it does, it never should be spoken of in the public square.

In fact, “privileged” minorities never should bite the hand that feeds them. This logic asserts the benevolence of whiteness to the seemingly helpless minority. What arrogance to suppose that money earned and talent used is a gift from benevolent patrons whose primary stipulation is that you remain silent when racism rears its ugly head.

But we are called to speak truth to power, to use whatever talents and tools we have to raise into the consciousness of the culture the primary moral problem.

Race.

Let us be honest with one another: Everything from sports recruiting to environmental issues intersects America’s age-old problem with race. Muhammad Ali, Jackie Robinson, Jessie Owens, Serena Williams, Gabby Douglas, Lebron James, Colin Kaepernick, the University of Missouri football team, and many unnamed and forgotten others all have a single common problem. The thread of racism continually bombards their lives, despite their high level of achievement, and the suffocating thread of benevolent whiteness seeks also to guilt them into submission.

But the refrain from the likes of Lebron James and others is the voice of righteousness to a perverse world. They collectively say, “You must deal with this racist past and present, and deal with it now.”

Appeal of God

This is the appeal of God, who continually calls for us to confront our sins. God will not allow our distractions, our gladiatorial events to distract us from the real problem. God continually sends unlikely mouthpieces, suffering servants, unwavering voices their talents to speak to the pain of oppressed people.

The NBA Finals distracted us again, at least as best it could. Once again, we were frustrated at the insertion of race into one of our favorite distractions—I mean pastimes.

I don’t want to be distracted by the games I love. I want to be captured by righteousness wherever it manages to fight through the distractions. My hope is that we all begin to look with fresh eyes and hear with fresh ears the movement and voice of God when he is getting our attention.

Dante Wright is pastor of Sweet Home Baptist Church—known as the Pinnacle of Praise—in Round Rock.

When people think of the church, what images come to mind?

Bob Ellis

Some picture the church as a beautiful architectural space filled with smiling people dressed in their Sunday best. Such an image may lead to the notion of the church as a showroom for saints. Or perhaps some imagine the church as an intricately carved oaken china cabinet with leaded-glass doors, filled with the finest Wedgwood china and Waterford crystal. While there is great value in beautiful worship spaces that artistically glorify God, the notion of church people as fine bone china is sadly off the mark. If we are honest, those of us in the church must confess that instead of being fine china, we are all too often chipped, cracked, stained by the past and broken.

Perhaps a better metaphor for the church is that of a hospital for sick people. It’s a biblical image. Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” those “sick of soul.” And Jesus referred to himself as a physician who has come for sick people, for those who know they need help. While at the same time, Jesus recognized he has nothing to offer those who think they already are spiritually healthy.

Imagine your church

Imagine the church where you worship as a hospital for the spiritually ill. Or maybe think of it as an emergency clinic for those desperately sick of soul, or a spiritual rehabilitation facility for long-term recovery, or a treatment center for those who have relapsed into spiritually destructive addictions.

Or the image may be of the church as a waiting room, filled with people who have arrived for an appointment, yet unsure if they actually want to sign in and visit the doctor, who keep putting it off in hope of ignoring the pain. In such an ecclesial waiting room, some of us may be able to encourage the reluctant, giving testimony about how the Great Physician is helping us. Perhaps we’d even offer to go in to the appointment with them, to provide moral support.

The hospital metaphor might also suggest that, as a church, we need the soulful equivalent of ambulances that take us as spiritual EMTs to places in our towns where people are in acute need, hurt by life, wounded by sinfulness or confused about where to go for help.

Where is the greatest need?

With such an image in mind, we should ask: Where are the greatest needs around us? Maybe among the down-and-outs or the up-and-outs, the desperately ill or those numbed by pain into soulish lethargy. Where would your church find the most-needy people in your city, the ones most desperate for care? Likely, that is where we should be concentrating our attention.

If this hospital metaphor for the church is valid, then an obvious implication would be that under no circumstances could we ever turn someone away because her or his spiritual illness was too severe, or think someone has to change behavior or get healthy before becoming part of our community.

Think what it would be like if your local hospital turned sick people away because they weren’t already well. It’s unimaginable. Just so with the church—we dare not think anyone is unworthy of entering our doors because of their weakness, pain or failings.

Think of Jesus

Jesus often was accused of foolishness because he spent too much time with spiritually sick people. Instead of shunning the broken, he invited them into his kingdom. To be sure, he called those sick of soul to repentance and to move toward wholeness, all the while inviting them to come near to him. Jesus never turned people away because they were broken of soul or slow to heal.

Think of Peter, whom Jesus called “Satan” at one point and who denied Christ three times. And yet Peter, with all his failings, was part of the innermost circle of Jesus’ followers while he was spiritually broken.

Falling prey

By contrast, the only people Jesus responded to with harshness were the religiously respectable, who kept all the ecclesial rules and thought they were too good to be around people broken by life. Jesus called such religious folks hypocrites on their way to complete self-destruction.

Sadly, those of us in the church who have figured out how to live culturally respectable lives according to the norms of American Christianity all too often fall prey to the temptation of hypocrisy, thinking we are spiritually superior to others who aren’t already making progress in a treatment plan with the healer.

The truth, of course, is we all are poor of spirit, and when we humbly acknowledge that reality, we place ourselves in a position to become wounded witnesses, inviting others to join us in the hospital that is the church, all of us patients of the great physician.

Bob Ellis is associate dean for academics at Hardin-Simmons University’s Logsdon Seminary in Abilene, Texas. This column was adapted from a blog featured on the website of First Baptist Church in Abilene.

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5)

Jake Raabe

The Apostle Paul wrote these words to the Corinthian church while making a sensitive request. The church in Jerusalem was in a desperate financial situation, and Paul was asking the Corinthians to set aside a special offering for them. Paul wanted the Corinthian Christians to give up their own limited resources—the early Christians were not a wealthy group—to assist a group of people they never met.

Even more, the Jerusalem Christians were mostly Jewish, and the Corinthian church was largely gentile. These two ethnic groups didn’t typically get along well, as the book of Acts attests.

Uncommon sense

When Paul told the Romans about the offering, he admitted he wasn’t even sure the Jewish Christians would accept gentile money (Romans 15:31). And even if the Corinthians did give and the Jerusalem church did accept the money, Paul was a controversial figure who would be traveling into a city where he was not particularly welcomed with a large sum of cash. Paul’s plan here doesn’t seem particularly well-thought-out.

If Paul came to one of our churches today to make a similar request, we’d probably tell him to use some common sense and drop the offering. We don’t want to give it, they don’t want to take it, and there’s a significant chance it will get you arrested or worse.

That’s assuming, of course, we would be willing to give to the poor in Jerusalem. We might also challenge him on that, and ask him why they can’t support themselves. Could they be making better financial decisions? Can’t they pick up some extra hours at work? If we give them money now, won’t that just enable them and start an endless cycle?

No worldly wisdom

Paul knew something that we would be forgetting—when God gives you something to do, you do it.

Paul was convinced God had told him to take up this offering, and no human reasoning, no amount of “common sense” was going to make him do otherwise. Paul was ready to “demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God.” When God speaks, there’s no “yes, but” for any reason. No matter how illogical or impractical it may seem, no matter how much it might not make sense according to worldly wisdom, “we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” Not “reason”; not “common sense.” Christ.

Those of us who live under the authority of Scripture have similar charges from God—to proclaim the Good News, to live a holy life, to provide for the poor, to seek peace. When we say “if we give money to the poor, then they won’t work” or “if we call this a sin, people won’t like us,” we’re putting human wisdom and arguments above the wisdom of God. When people submit themselves to the lordship of Christ, they forfeit their right to say “yes, but ….” Christian discipleship is all-encompassing, and it has no room for worldly wisdom.

Divine logic

I’m a hypocrite as I’m writing this. When Jesus says to “turn the other cheek” to one who has struck me, my first thought is “That’s impractical.” When I read in Deuteronomy that “there need be no poor among you,” I think to myself, “That’s too idealistic.” When Paul instructs us in Colossians to “rid yourselves of … anger” I pretend my anger actually is justified and acceptable. The list of commands from God that I ignore goes on and on.

I pray we as Christians would be more like Paul, who knew human logic and arguments have no standing before the word of God. I pray we would be people who do as God commands, rather than tell God why his plan needs adjustment.

When we make decisions, may we do so according to God’s wisdom. If he tells us to give to the poor, he probably knows what he’s talking about. If God tells us to be unified in respectful and loving fellowship with one another, it’s probably possible. If God commands us to take an offering from one hesitant church to another along a long, dangerous path, he’ll see us through it.

He’s God, after all. We aren’t.

Jake Raabe is a student at Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas and a writer. Follow him on his Facebook page.

Father’s Day is upon us once again. While it doesn’t receive the fanfare of Mother’s Day—and rightfully so—it is an important day for us to recognize the men in our lives who have shaped, loved, protected and provided for us.

Zac Harrel

When you look at the research, there is no doubt fathers are an integral part of raising children and providing stability to a family. In our broken world, we see so many examples of failures on the part of fathers, which means when we see godly fathers who love, encourage and build up their children, we need to praise them as much as we can.

As we come to Father’s Day, I want to challenge those of us who are fathers to be the father God has called us to be, and I want to challenge us to this in three ways:

Simply be present.

Be there for your kids, for your family, as much as you possibly can. Your presence means more than you know. As fathers, sometimes we have difficulty expressing our feelings and communicating with our children. Being present allows us to say more than any of our words ever could. Showing up is not always enough, but it is a start.

We will not get to the end of our lives and wish we had stayed at work longer. The regrets we carry with us will be not being present in the lives of our family.

Be present in the moment. Give your children your full attention. Put your phone away for a while and play with your kids, listen to your family, hug them and kiss them and let them know you love them.

We will not be perfect, but we can be present.

Protect your family.

I don’t just mean physically. In fact, focusing only on physical protection sometimes causes us to abandon our call to protect our children spiritually and emotionally.

I have a 3-year-old daughter. I want my house to be a place where she feels safe physically, but I also want her to feel safe emotionally and spiritually. She needs an environment where she knows her Heavenly Father and her earthly father love her. I want my daughter to have emotionally healthy attachments throughout her life, and that begins with me. I want to protect her emotions where I can. I also want to protect her spiritually from what she intakes into her mind and heart to seeing the simplicity of the spiritual life.

Our kids need models of what it means to love God and love neighbor. They need examples of humble faith. They need a place where they can ask questions and bring doubts and struggle with the brokenness of the world.

Our homes need to be places of safety for our kids physically, emotionally and spiritually. As fathers, we must set the tone.

Pray for your family.

Pray continually for your wife and for your children. Pray with them, and pray for them. Our children should know we are fighting alongside them and for them in prayer. This is our most important work, and from the fruit of this discipline comes presence and protection. Out of the overflow of a life of prayer, we can be the fathers God has called us to be.

Pray over your children, teach them to pray and let them see you on your knees before the throne of God. Godly fathers are praying fathers.

We should celebrate the fathers in our lives. We should celebrate those who have loved us so well, even when that love has been imperfect.

For those of us who are fathers, we should take this day to reflect on how we have done in our calling. Have we been present? Have we protected our children? Have we prayed for our families?

Zac Harrel is pastor of First Baptist Church in Gustine, Texas.

Summer is a great time to pile the family and far too much luggage into the car and head out to discover a new world.

Meredith Stone

But road trips today are different than they were a few years ago.

• Rather than maps, now we have GPS.

• Rather than being free to move all around the car at any time, now we have seatbelt and car-seat laws.

• Rather than counting on highway games, cards and sing-a-longs to pass the time, now we have gaming apps, movies downloaded from Netflix and even laptop computers to stay connected to our work.

Oh, those billboards

Recently, my family and I hopped in the car and headed west. And even though our trip included all of the above comforts of the modern-day road trip, I noticed one thing hasn’t changed in road trips of the past few decades—billboards!

And when driving in east-central New Mexico on Interstate 40, one store wins the prize for billboards.

About 30 miles away from this particular store, we caught a glimpse of the first billboard for the Flying C Ranch. But then not a few minutes later, another billboard appeared, then another, and another. When we were within miles of the store, the side of the interstate was littered with Flying C Ranch billboards.

Apparently, the Flying C sells food, moccasins, fireworks, jewelry, ice, serapes, guy stuff, girl stuff and so much more. Each item was advertised on its own billboard of which there were at least 50.

Great expectations

By the time we reached the exit to take for the Flying C Ranch, you could imagine our expectations were pretty high. I just knew this place was going to put Buc-ee’s to shame.

Unfortunately, though, we were sorely disappointed. The Flying C Ranch was just a regular truck stop—a metal building with a small restaurant and a handful of gas pumps. Maybe it was a little bigger than most, but it was nothing special. It definitely was not worth 50 billboards! I even laughed at the absurdity of the amount of advertising dollars invested in this quaint roadside stop.

Later, it occurred to me, though, that maybe I underestimated the Flying C Ranch. We didn’t stop there and investigate, so maybe we missed something. After all, the Flying C Ranch must have been worth 50 billboards to someone. This establishment stocked with trinkets, gifts and food was someone’s everything. It was someone’s 50-billboard treasure trove, and I was just too calloused and surface-focused to see its value.

Another perspective

My experience with the Flying C Ranch changed my perspective on the rest of the road trip. Each time we passed an establishment that looked like it had been around since maps were sold, I tried to take off my surface-focused glasses and see the heart of the place.

I thought about the family who had invested and worked hard for many years so they could make a living. I thought about the legacy each store left on the memories of travelers. I attempted to look past the façade and see the value.

In our Netflix/apps/GPS-dominated world, we often miss the chance to see value. Our minds move as fast as the information we constantly parade in front of our eyes. But if we take the time to look, we might be able to see more than the surface. We might be able to find worth and value in the things, tasks, activities and people who are common to our everyday lives.

If we slow down long enough, we just might be able to find a 50-billboard treasure trove.

And perhaps the new world we discover on our next road trip just might be our own.

Meredith Stone is director of ministry guidance and instructor of Christian ministry and Scripture at Hardin-Simmons University’s Logsdon School of Theology. She is a member of the Baptist Standard Publishing board of directors.

On a Friday morning, I was seated at a restaurant bar, sharing breakfast with a Jewish rabbi and a Muslim imam. Since I’m an evangelical pastor, you might be wondering if this is the set up for a rather terrible joke. But, no, it’s actually what I was doing. Let me explain:

Steve Bezner

I was participating in a peace conference in Abu Dhabi. At the invitation of Pastor Bob Roberts of Glocalnet, Imam Mohamed Magid of the International Interfaith Peace Corps and Sheikh Bin Bayyah of the United Arab Emirates, 10 evangelical pastors, 10 rabbis and 10 imams were asked to gather and discuss religious freedom and tolerance in Muslim-majority nations and in the United States.

The sheikh is the primary force behind a document called the Marrakesh Declaration — a call for religious tolerance and peace in Muslim-majority nations. The document was finalized in January 2016, and participants at the peace conference hoped to find ways to incorporate the declaration into other Muslim-majority nations. Participants also were asked to find ways for us to incorporate similar thinking into our respective communities.

For three full days, we listened, probed, questioned, argued, discussed and workshopped some possibilities of constructive paths forward in a world that, for the foreseeable future, will be distinctly multi-faith.

We were treated to incredible hospitality— ranging from delicious food to gracious kindness, to top-notch accommodations — and saw the very best that Abu Dhabi had to offer. Sheikh Hamza Yusuf granted us impromptu lessons on the intricacies of Muslim history and culture; we tried all manner of fruit juices and a wide variety of dates—the fruit!—from across the Middle East; and we were treated as scholars and ambassadors from our respective religious traditions.

After the week, I walked away realizing we have some irreconcilable differences, and yet we also have a potential path forward, if we are to live together in peace. Here are my thoughts—from a Christian perspective:

Irreconcilable differences

1. The Incarnation 

Christians believe Jesus is God in flesh. This is a non-negotiable, as we believe it is our path to communion with God. My Jewish friends find this in direct contradiction to the Shema, and my Muslim friends believe Jesus was a great prophet of Allah, but not God incarnate. There is no way to solve this theological conundrum.

2. The New Testament

Christians believe the New Testament is the sacred text giving the pinnacle of revelation, because it conveys the life and work of Jesus. My Jewish friends believe the canon is closed outside of the Hebrew Bible, and my Muslim friends will read the Gospels within the New Testament because of their reverence for Jesus, but they will not find them to be of the same level as the Quran.

3. Grace through faith

Christians believe we have right standing and relationship with God through no religious efforts of our own, but through grace that is transmitted by the finished work of Jesus. We receive this by placing our faith in Jesus, but not through our religious work. My Jewish friends believe God’s righteousness is transmitted through either keeping the Law or by their innate Jewishness. This is my best understanding — please correct me if I am off-base here, rabbis. My Muslim friends believe God’s righteousness is transmitted through keeping the Five Pillars of Islam. In both Judaism and Islam, there is a direct connection between our actions and our reception of righteousness. The concept of salvific grace, as presented in the New Testament, is unique to Christianity.

After the theological conversations I had, there was certainly very little—read: no—possibility any of the rabbis, imams or pastors were planning to convert to another religion. Each of us has our reasons for believing our particular path to God is the correct one. From a theological perspective, many of us believe the others are condemned to a future apart from God, yet we couldn’t help but love one another.

In fact, I would say I have dozens of new friends. Nevertheless, I plan to remain a Christian, even though I love my new rabbi and imam friends — and look forward to taking them up on their offered hospitality in their respective cities.

The way forward

What is the multi-faith future? What does it look like when Muslims, Jews, and Christians decide we must retain our religious identities in the future? If our theologies are, in fact, not merely different paths to God, but are instead different theologies in which no more than one of us is correct, we must find a way to co-exist in a manner where we can foster the common good.

Based on that recognition, I began to imagine the way forward for us in the United States — and perhaps globally — will most likely look something like this:

1. Minimize differences

I don’t mean we ignore differences. I mean we don’t focus on them. If I focus only our differences, I will never be able to work with someone who is different than me. If we are going to forge a path of the common good, then we must look beyond our differences toward something that we can agree upon.

That thing, I believe, is a human society with the goal of flourishing. The problem, of course, is that each of the representative religious traditions will have a variety of ways to define “flourishing.” We are, as it were, back to our differences. So, we must not only focus on flourishing, but we must do so in a way that does not focus on the differences between those traditions and their respective definitions.

2. Maximize common ground 

We must, instead, find the common values and virtues that are the outworkings of our faiths and use those as building blocks for societies that will be receptive to peace and religious freedom.

Over three days I spotted a few common values and virtues:

• Respect: Each of the groups mentioned a desire to welcome all people into a healthy society, giving them a voice free from persecution at the hands of the government.

• Freedom: All groups agreed individuals ought to be free to worship without fear of government persecution or reprisal.

• Social justice/sanctity of life: All groups agreed their texts emphasize the sanctity of human life—in various ways—and that ought to be highlighted in public policy toward the impoverished, the outcast, the unemployed and the unborn.

• Marriage: Marriage is valued by all groups and ought to be fostered within society, as healthy families create deeper peace.

• Peace: All representatives sought a world where there was not only an absence of conflict, but also a true working to help individuals grow toward success.

• Education: Part of success is educating. All groups value education, and all groups have their own internal education systems ensuring their values are taught to their adherents.

I am certain there are more, but these values jumped out at me as we discussed our dreams for the future.

3. Build a moral vision. 

With common values and virtues, I think the three monotheistic Abrahamic faiths could potentially construct and present a moral vision that would be helpful in imagining jurisprudence, educational values, social services and the like in Muslim-majority states.

Furthermore, I believe such a common moral vision could be of great benefit in the West, specifically in the United States. As our nation becomes increasingly tribal in its thinking and behavior, we must seek out places of agreement, even among those who have deep and irreconcilable differences.

I would argue, in fact, that among those who have deep and irreconcilable theological differences, the moral vision must be born. People of faith care deeply about the moral structure and direction of societies, so it must be among those same people of faith that the moral vision ought to be forged, precisely because they care so deeply about the moral structure and direction of society.

To reiterate, this will not be a unified theological vision — such a vision is impossible in a multi-faith world — but it will instead be a moral vision that builds upon areas of commonality from the distinct theological traditions each faith brings to the table.

If we can, indeed, craft such a moral vision, there may be a path forward for civic life in the West — and beyond. If not? I do not know how long a solely secular civic philosophy can carry the weight of a society slowly fracturing into self-absorbed interest groups.

Can such a moral vision be created? God alone knows. But after my time with my new friends, I am convinced that if we do not push for the common good, the forces of division will win the day. I pray we will work together, despite our theological differences, find a common moral vision, and create a world that will be stable and peaceful for future generations.

Steve Bezner is senior pastor of Houston Northwest Church.

Marv Knox’s editorial “Christians: It’s time to knit safety nets” gave a helpful overview of the massive cuts to federal social safety-net programs proposed by the Trump administration, as well as the challenge to the church’s witness such cuts have potential to bring.

Jake RaabeThe budget is highly unlikely to pass in its current state, but many have defended it nevertheless. “Taking care of the poor is the church’s job, not the government’s” has been a consistent refrain from Christians in support of the cuts. Knox challenged churches to begin to take that sentiment seriously, and many readers indicated a readiness to do so. Can the church really take on the entirety of poverty response in America?

Brad Williams at Christ and Pop Culture did the math on this a few years ago. Take WIC—Women, Infants and Children—a program that provides funds for food and healthcare to the neediest and most vulnerable members of society. This program spends about $6.6 billion a year. Given that evangelicals typically give about 4 percent of their income to their church and make up about 24 percent of the population, every evangelical church in the country would need to spend around 17 percent of its budget in order to provide the same coverage WIC currently does.

Budget hikes
I’ve worked in several churches, and none of them has ever had one-fifth of its budget free and available for immediate use. Something would need to be cut significantly in most church budgets to be able to spend an additional 17 percent on benevolence. For most churches, this likely will have to come from ministers’ salaries, typically the largest non-building expense. Given that most churches spend 40 percent to 50 percent of their budgets on salaries, evangelicals would need to tithe around twice as much as they currently do or reduce their ministers’ salaries by half to make up for WIC alone, which only provides basic food and health care to women in poverty with children under 5 years old.

This is just one program for one group of people in need. These numbers don’t take into account benevolence for disabled people, elderly people, the recently unemployed or families with children over age 5.

What would it look like for the church to take on the full extent of poverty relief in the United States? According to an article in the Washington Post, America spends about $212 billion per year on welfare services. Determining total annual U.S. church contributions is difficult, but one estimate from 2007 put the number around $97 billion for all religious institutions combined. This means the church taking on full responsibility for U.S. poverty alleviation would require all American Christians to give more than double what they give currently—triple, if they want their churches to be able to operate in more or less the same way they do now.

Triple giving?

Would your congregation be prepared to triple its total giving in order to alleviate poverty? Maybe it is. Maybe the church really can end poverty in the United States. We should be realistic in what this would require, though. Most churches struggle to increase yearly giving enough to keep pastors’ salaries in line with inflation. If we’re willing to claim poverty alleviation is the exclusive work of the church, are we willing to drastically adjust our giving accordingly?

Of course, some might question if we should be spending as much as we currently do on social services. I would answer yes, for two reasons. First, most evidence suggests abuse of social services happens significantly less than we’re led to believe by politicians and media outlets with budget-related agendas. Does welfare abuse exist? Of course. Is it rampant and out of control? Not by any means.

On that note, the second reason: Which will Christ be unhappier with us for—giving to someone who didn’t need it, or not giving to someone who did? Which will God judge us more harshly for—giving to one person who didn’t need it, or denying it to 99 who did? Better to err on the side of generosity than neglect.

Can the church in America support our country’s poor? If we all gave a lot more, maybe. I’ll put my money where my mouth is. If the White Houses’ proposed cuts pass, I’ll find a way to triple my church giving. Anyone with me?

Jake Raabe is a student at Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas and a writer. Follow him on his Facebook page.