I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions. Mine never seem to be fulfilled, and I’m guessing I’m not alone there. But as I thought about the incarnation of Jesus this Christmas season, I decided to make one resolution for 2017.

Zac HarrelThe reason we celebrate Christmas is because it represents the incarnation of Jesus Christ, the Son of God made flesh. Jesus entered into the brokenness of our world, of our lives, in a manger in Bethlehem. There are times when we wonder if God is there, if he is good or if he loves us. The incarnation gives us the answer.

Ever-present Jesus

Jesus came for us. God is not “out there” somewhere. God is near. God is present. He is present every moment and through every struggle. The good news of Christmas, the news that gives us great joy, is the news of the incarnation. This is the good news of the ever-present Jesus.

Jesus didn’t shy away from the brokenness of this world. He dove right in. He does not shy away from our own personal brokenness. He is there. He is present. As his church, he calls us to be present, too. Thinking through Christmas this year, I realized I needed to be more obedient to the Great Commandment and the Great Commission, and for me, that means I need to follow the example of Jesus where he has placed me. I need to be more present.

As I look into and across this New Year, I want to be more present to my family, to my church, to my community.

Distraction cloaked as “community”

There is a lot of hurt, a lot of pain and a lot of suffering all around us. We easily gloss over the hurt and pain of our lives in our social media world. We have learned, or rather been formed, to be connected always and yet never to be truly present. Distraction is with us at all times, and this distraction cloaks itself as community in the form of social media and other connecting apps and websites.

Next time you go out to eat or shop, notice how many of us are consumed with our phones. I was at my daughter’s dance recital, and as I was videoing her performance I realized I was only seeing her through my screen. In a real way, we have traded the beauty and glory of the real world, of real presence for our phones. We have traded real community for online “community.”

My phone consumes me. I want to be present to my family. I want to put my phone down and play with my daughter and listen to my wife. I want to be present to my church, to their needs and hurts. I want to be present to the work of God in me and through me.

If I am honest, my spiritual life suffers the most from my addiction to my phone. Prayer is harder because I need to check Twitter or Facebook or because someone emailed me or I need to answer that text. How often am I just present, simply there, quietly before God?

Are you (fully) present?

I don’t want to burden your conscience unnecessarily, but let me ask you this question: Are you present? I’m not asking if you are there for your family, for your church, in your relationship with Christ. I’m not asking if you show up. I am asking if you are fully there, fully present in the moment.

Let me challenge you and myself:

Turn off the phone.

Play with your kids.

Have dinner without the interruption of a text or call.

Don’t experience life behind a screen. See the beauty of God all around you and be present in the moment. I have a feeling if, like the disciples, we asked Jesus to teach us to pray, his first response to us in 2017 may be, “First, turn off your phone.”

To be the spouse and parent we need to be, we must be present. To minister to the brokenness of our neighborhood and community, we must be present. To love God as we are called to do, we must be present.

I am making the resolution to be present in 2017. Will you make it with me?

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

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”—Luke 2:14

Eric BlackEvery family has a peacemaker.

You know the one—the person who can’t stand any tension in the family, the person who at the first sign of trouble does whatever it takes to smooth everything over.

When Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he wasn’t talking about family peacemakers. He was talking about so much more.

The family peacemaker deals in temporary fixes like a cook trying to keep a pot from boiling over. The family peacemaker tries to keep everything at a slow simmer.

Jesus came with the promise of so much more.

Jesus came into the world with the angelic promise of peace on earth. Later, when Jesus left the world, he left his peace that overcomes the troubles of the world. Jesus came in peace and left in peace, and neither without trouble.

What is this peace?

Our Christmas songs mislead us. They teach of peace like a calm winter snow, a beautifully lighted Christmas scene or the sentimental warm feeling of the season. This kind of peace is temporary and dependent upon our emotions and outward circumstances. This isn’t the peace of the angels’ song.

The peace about which the angels sang is the deep shalom of God. Shalom is an ancient word meaning wholeness, completion, perfection and welfare. Shalom is grounded in the solid rock who is God and does not need us to feel any particular way about it or our circumstances.

When the angels proclaimed peace, they proclaimed the birth of the One who would bring shalom. They sang of the calm in the raging storm and the unshaken ground in the earthquake. They sang of Jesus, who saves us and makes us whole.

Jesus is our peace.

Jesus and his disciples ran into rough water out on a big lake one night. Jesus was asleep in the front of the boat while his disciples frantically tried to stay afloat. Finally, they woke him, shouting: “We’re going to drown! Don’t you care?”

Jesus woke up and said to the wind and the water: “Peace! Be still!” And all the world was calm. (Mark 4:35-41)

After Jesus calmed the storm, he asked his disciples where their faith was. He wondered why they were afraid when the God of the universe was inside the boat with them, but the disciples didn’t know who Jesus was, and they were afraid. Jesus’ words—Peace! Be still!—were as much for them as for the wind and the water.

We, however, do know who Jesus is. He is Mighty God, Creator, Deliverer, Rock, Prince of Peace.

Jesus is our peace, and his peace is for the world.

As the body of Christ, part of our role in the world is to be agents of Christ’s peace. To be agents of Christ’s peace means we must do more than keep things at a slow simmer. We must actively make peace in this world.

Before we can make peace out there in the world, we first must make peace in here. Robert Morgan shares a war story illustrating what I mean.

During World War II, ships carrying weapons to Europe ran into rough seas. One ship carrying Sherman tanks fell into desperate trouble. The tanks broke their moorings and began sliding back and forth inside the ship’s hold, slamming into the bulkhead. Their 20- and 30-ton weight was causing so much damage, the ship had to pull out of the convoy. Crew members had to go down into the hold, somehow get on the moving tanks, and fasten them down again before the ship could safely continue eastward.

Despite the raging storm all around the ship, the most pressing danger was inside. Once things were secure inside, the ship could face the onslaught of the waves.

Before we can face the troubles of the world, we must face the troubles of our own soul. This is an important work of Christ’s Spirit in us, as well as an important work of the church as we help one another find peace in Christ.

Yes, Jesus is our peace, and his peace is for the world.

The winds are howling, and the waves are rolling. The storm is raging, and the earth is quaking. Donald Trump is president-elect. Russia and China are beating their chests. Syria and the Sudan are imploding. ISIS and Boko Haram are rallying troops. The ship is taking on water. The pot is about to boil over.

How the world needs daring people who will go down into the ship’s hold to tie the tanks down again. How the world needs peacemakers!

Let us find peace in Christ so we may bear what the world so desperately needs, remembering the same Lord who is shalom for the world also is our shalom, our peace. May we remember he who said he will always be with us is still in the front of the boat.

Eric Black is pastor of First Baptist Church in Covington, Texas, and a member of the Baptist Standard Publishing board of directors.

By random accident of geography, over half the world’s population celebrates Christmas during a time of the year associated with winter. Actually, almost 90 percent of people live in the northern hemisphere, but about half the world live at a latitude that actually “feels” winter.

Craig NashMost of us know this cognitively, and we occasionally ponder how strange it would be to see Mr. and Mrs. Claus in board shorts and sunglasses. But I doubt we’ve given much thought to how this has informed the way we experience Christmas.

Advantages to winter

There are advantages to having a winter Christmas, when the days are shorter and the weather colder. Or, in the case of most of us Texans, less warm.

It lends itself to quiet reflection. The colder weather sends us inside in search of warmth, family and friends, as well as the comfort of sweaters and warm socks. Turning our attention to the Christ-Child, we carry that insular, introspective spirit with us as we reflect on the loneliness of Mary, the confusion of Joseph and the joy of the world. Both the minor keys of Advent and the major keys of Christmas allow us to process the Good News in our heads and in our hearts with reserve, as we ponder what it meant for our previous year, and what it will mean for the coming one.

Feels like “summer”

But for some of us, 2016 has made this Advent and Christmas season feel more summer-ish. The year has been an alarm. Not a fire alarm sending us running out the building, or a siren leaving us wondering what’s going on, but a wake-up call.

Cities are falling as innocent children dodge bullets to escape. Many of these children are being told by the wealthiest, most elaborate inn on the planet: “We are full here. Can’t risk what you may bring with you. Find shelter elsewhere.”

Some of our neighbors are fearful for their lives as they walk down the streets or are pulled over for broken taillights. Many tell them that this fear is irrational: “Do as you are told, and everything will be OK.” Sign the census, pledge allegiance to Caesar, and your anxiety will fade.

Other neighbors are labeled “violent,” associated unfairly with actual violent people who claim, erroneously, to practice the same faith. Regardless of how cooperative and kind they are, these neighbors often have to take different routes home, out of fear for what may befall them if they are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wake up and get busy

I’m writing this on the day before an anticipated 45-degree drop in temperatures and five days before the shortest day of the year in my corner of the world. But I’m not feeling that. I’m feeling summer, the time to wake up and do something.

In the next week, I’ll sing “O Come, O Come Emanuel,” “O Holy Night” and “Silent Night” in solidarity with my community, but what I’m feeling is the prophetic words from Isaiah, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you!”

I’m pondering the words of Mary, devastating to some and revelatory for others, that “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly, he has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.”

Friends, it may be cold and dark outside, but the sun is rising. May this Christmas be a time for us all to begin waking up and doing something.

Craig Nash is a child hunger outreach specialist and the No Kid Hungry regional coordinator for the Texas Hunger Initiative, based in Baylor University’s Diana Garland School of Social Work.

Recent weeks must have been at least a little unsettling for Russell Moore, president of the Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission, the Southern Baptist Convention’s public-policy and advocacy agency.

Jake Raabe

Late last month, former SBC Executive Committee Chairman William Harrell wrote a blog post criticizing Moore for his political activism and opposition to Donald Trump. Harrell also claimed to speak on behalf of “a number of pastors, particularly from larger churches, who are seriously considering escrowing their Cooperative Program funds until something is done.”

Soon after, the Louisiana Baptist Convention’s state news site, which featured a similar editorial earlier this year, linked to Harrell’s article. The subject subsequently came up at the Louisiana Baptist Convention annual meeting, where messengers overwhelmingly approved a measure to “study the recent actions of the SBC Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission with regard to issues of concern to Louisiana Baptists.” While this resolution is vague, it’s difficult not to read it in light of Harrell’s and Baptist Messenger editor Will Hall’s editorials calling for an end to Southern Baptist support of Moore and the ERLC due to his opposition to Trump and perceived hostility toward traditional conservative values.

Moderating voice

It would be naive to claim all of Moore’s political beliefs align perfectly with those of Southern Baptists at large. Speaking strictly in terms of politics, but not theology, Moore has been a consistent moderating voice in a convention that recently has been extremely conservative. However, silencing or dismissing Moore would be a grave mistake for Southern Baptists.

Again, Moore often is a dissenting voice within the SBC, a point both Harrell and Hall make in their calls for disassociation with the ERLC. Dissent is, however, a hallmark of Baptist history and identity. I’ve written before about the history of our denomination, which started as a persecuted group of dissenters from the Church of England. Historically, Baptists have striven to be a prophetic voice that stands apart from the dominant culture and calls it to faithfulness.

Harrell claims the ERLC has “egg all over their faces” because they were “completely out of touch with the reality of how the people felt” in the 2016 election. This defies Baptists’ oldest legacy. Should John Smyth and Thomas Helwys have stepped down from their congregations because the majority of Christians in England in the 17th century believed in infant Baptism? Baptists historically welcome dissent and caution.

Problematic approach

Of course, as Harrell argued in his column: “They must remember that the people in the SBC are volunteers. They don’t have to give their monies to fund such thinking.” No person within the SBC is compelled to support the ERLC financially. However, funding based upon whether a group espouses all of the same convictions as an individual is a deeply problematic way to approach church and parachurch ministry.

Should we withhold tithes and offerings from our church if we disagree with something the pastor preaches? To do so ultimately assumes we as individuals never need correction or alternative viewpoints, a sentiment that is prideful and has no place in the Christian life. To dismiss Moore because his political viewpoints differ with a large number of Southern Baptists is to assume those members of the convention are without need of correction or challenge, a spiritually dangerous claim to make.

To that extent, I wonder if Harrell, Hall and other critics of Moore and the ERLC could find a strictly theological issue they disagree with him on. Moore holds to biblical inerrancy, six-day creationism and complementary gender roles without apology. The opposition to him isn’t about theology or doctrine: it’s purely political and, specifically, about his opposition to Donald Trump. Claiming Moore doesn’t represent the SBC is claiming voting for a Republican candidate in every instance is a fundamental aspect of faith for the SBC. Additionally, it would place distance between the SBC and the large number of SBC church members who also did not support Trump’s presidency.

Collapsing the gospel

I write this because I care about Southern Baptists. This isn’t a hit-piece. Although I currently attend a Cooperative Baptist Fellowship-affiliated church, I previously served on staff at an SBC church, and two of my groomsmen in my recent wedding were young Southern Baptist pastors. I care about the SBC and don’t want to see them damaging their witness by collapsing the gospel of Christ into a certain brand of American politics.

When discussing this story, one friend asked what would distinguish the SBC from a Super PAC if they required all leaders to support specific candidates. I’m afraid I didn’t have a solid answer for him. The SBC’s response to these challenges to Moore will be an important test, and I pray convention leaders will be fully aware of the implications of any decisions they make.

Jake Raabe is a student at Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas.

This fall, I have been preaching through the book of Esther on Sunday evenings. What a challenge!

Zac Harrel

Esther is one of the most interesting books in the Old Testament. What makes it so intriguing is it never mentions God directly or indirectly. God’s name never is spoken, and he is not prayed to within the narrative.

Just reading through the book without the context of the rest of Scripture, it looks as if God is nowhere to be found. Through the persecution of his people, to the blatant idolatry of Haman, to the dismissal and abuse of Queen Vashti and countless other women in the Persian kingdom, you wonder: Where is God? He is not named. He is not mentioned.

Broken reality

Esther is an example of the broken reality of this world. If we are honest, in our own lives, sometimes it is hard to see God at work and hard to trust his plan and purposes.

With the help of the rest of the scriptural witness, we know God is there and God is working. We can know God is faithful, even when we don’t recognize his presence. Esther reminds me of that famous saying sometimes attributed to Charles Haddon Spurgeon, “When we cannot trace God’s hand, we must trust God’s heart.”

The reality of Esther has been helpful for me leading up to this Advent season. This life is hard, and sometimes, we wonder where God is in the mess of this world, in the mess of our lives. We may go days, weeks, months, years without recognizing the hand of God or mentioning his name.

Waiting for God

Throughout Esther, the reader is waiting for God to show up, for God to save his people, for God to intervene. And he does all that—through the faithfulness, courage and boldness of Esther and Mordecai.

Before ultimate salvation, the sense of anticipation throughout the book is palpable. We can relate. Advent is about this sense of anticipation. It is this palpable feeling of waiting for God to save, waiting for God to intervene, and he does through the faithfulness and obedience of Jesus. The story of the birth of Jesus is the story of God showing his glory in a time when many were wondering where he was.

Christmas reminds us God is right here. Jesus entered into the brokenness of this world, the brokenness of our lives. That manger in Bethlehem reminds us God has not abandoned his world or us. In the midst of idolatry, abuse and evil, Jesus enters into this world to make all things new. The anticipation we feel inside us for salvation and the groaning of the creation for redemption find their fulfillment in Jesus.

Know God’s heart

We can know God’s heart for us because we know Jesus left the throne room of heaven to put on flesh and blood, to become fully human with all our struggles and pain. He endured abuse and abandonment. We can relate to Jesus when he cries out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is the cry of our broken hearts, and the answer we can trust because of Jesus is that God is right here. You can trust his heart, even when you feel alone and abandoned.

No one will ever know the reason we go through pain and grief. There is no easy answer for the evil and suffering we experience in this world.

I cannot trace God’s hand all the time, but I do trust his heart. I trust his heart, because Jesus entered into this broken world and took all my sin and endured so much suffering so that he might redeem and restore not only me but also all his creation. Jesus came to make all things new.

Esther reminds me of the messy reality of life in this fallen world. Christmas reminds me God has not left us alone, and God is always working to redeem and restore.

In the brokenness of your life, trust his heart.

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

Recently, I’ve heard a lot of people say true Christian love requires telling people when they are sinning, so I thought I would offer a product to make it a little easier.

Ellen Di GiosiaHere’s what I have in mind: A small card printed on one side with “Love you!” On the other side will be a list of personal sins with checkboxes. When I go out to dinner and see someone eating a third piece of fried chicken, I can simply check “gluttony” and drop it off at her table. I can leave a “greed”-checked card under the windshield wiper of the Porsche I often see parked outside my HEB. It might be best to have cards made with the “gossip” box pre-checked, as I will be handing many of them out at prayer meetings.

Drive-by judgment

Does that sound ridiculous? It’s not too different from the drive-by judgment we often exercise. Many Christians seem all too happy to spout off about the personal sins of people we don’t know. We rant and rave on Twitter, or we sneak into the comment sections of other people’s Facebook pages to get our two cents in.

When it comes to the fraught issues surrounding human sexuality and gender, Christians have a terribly nasty habit of weighing in where we are uninvited. We insist following Jesus faithfully means calling people out on their sin wherever and whenever we see it, which we politely term speaking the truth in love. “Yes, Jesus ate with sinners,” some say, “but remember that Jesus also said, ‘Go and sin no more.’”

Since that is widely considered the mic drop of these conversations, it’s helpful to examine it more closely. The gospels are full of stories of Jesus engaging with sinners. How does he speak about it?

What Jesus says/doesn’t say

In the Gospel of Luke, a sinful woman appears at a dinner party at a Pharisee’s house. Armed with an alabaster jar of ointment, she weeps at the feet of Jesus and anoints him with her tears. The outraged host is quickly put in his place, then Jesus turns to the woman and forgives her sins. Now here is where we might expect Jesus to tell the woman to do better in the future, but his surprising final words to her are not an admonition against sin. He dismisses the sinner like this: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

The famous sentence “Go and sin no more” is from John’s story of an adulterous woman. Having been caught red-handed, she is brought out by the scribes and Pharisees to be killed. Jesus stoops to scribble mysteriously on the ground, fielding continued questions from the elders. Jesus informs them that their own sin disqualifies them from carrying out the legally mandated punishment.

The Gospel writer tells us this is a test. The authorities want nothing more than for this itinerant preacher to mess up so they can charge him with a crime. This is a moment of great danger for Jesus and his followers. So, when Jesus tells the adulterous woman to refrain from sin, he only does so after he has put himself in harm’s way to defend her. Jesus puts his own body on the line to speak out against those who would judge her. How many of us would do the same?

The sinners Jesus denounces

The only sinners Jesus denounces in public are religious people who oppress others. He turns over tables in the temple and chastises leaders for their hypocrisy. He lambasts the scribes and Pharisees who “lock people out of the kingdom of heaven. For you do not go in yourselves, and when others are going in, you stop them” (Matthew 23:13). He criticizes those in power for laying heavy burdens on the people.

We say we aspire to be more like Jesus. We want to put ourselves into the gospel story and ask, “What would Jesus do?” But we largely ignore the systemic sin that plagues our churches, our communities and our nation. Instead of speaking truth about racism, sexism or unjust economic systems, we “love” people from afar by proclaiming them sinners. How unlike the man we claim to follow.

This is not to say we never address personal sin. But if we are speaking truth in love, we must have demonstrated that love already. We must earn the right to speak to someone about sin. No “sinner” is required to listen to us; we build credibility in the process of a relationship. Moreover, being in a relationship assumes mutual accountability. It does not exist solely for the purpose of one person judging the other in the name of the gospel.

Otherwise, when we place ourselves in the story, we are not Jesus, and we are not the shamed sinner. We are the men with stones in our hands, waiting for an opening in the fray.

Ellen Di Giosia is associate pastor of faith formation at Woodland Baptist Church in San Antonio.

The election has come and gone. Some will breathe sighs of relief, and some shouts of joy. I count myself among those who cannot do either, but wait with no small measure of fear as to what is to come—not for myself, but for those whose lives may be materially affected by policies grounded in campaign promises. I confess this fear, and am not ready to disown it yet.

Myles WerntzIt is appropriate, I think, that this season of waiting for the next president comes in the season of Advent. Advent is the season in which we wait for that which we do not know how to expect, in hope and in reverent fear. And for American Christians dismayed by the election results, Advent is the providential space we now enter.

As Christians, Advent is a time for repenting of vain hopes in all of the messiahs who did not come to pass. It is not some turn of history that we are waiting for, but God, the one who breaks into the house and throws open the windows of what we have hoped in.

Summoned to say yes

In this election, I confess, I hoped in political discourse, and in the giving and taking of reasons, that we as Christians would reject strong kings in favor of trust. If the election had turned a different direction, I confess, I would be not be seeing Advent in the same way, reminded the cycle of elections in the City of Man is eclipsed and enfolded into a different reality—the work of God, which reframes the events of history.

The fact I would not look at Advent in this way is perhaps a sign I need it all the more.

What Advent offers us is, at best, unnerving. For like expectant parents, we wait in Advent as those not knowing what it is we are waiting for, with both hope and fear. Mary and Joseph had received word of a child who would both break their chains and break their hearts, but with no idea what that would look like.

And so, Jesus’ birth came in an anticipation of a hope whose fullness they could not name, a waiting characterized by hope for their child and fear of what unknowns would come with him. Had they known Jesus would bring the persecutions of Herod, a flight to Egypt, the humiliations of a prophet cast out of his hometown, I believe—and hope—they still would have said yes. But this, too, is perhaps a grace, that in Advent, we wait for that which is unknown and are summoned to say yes to God in the absence of a defined future.

Waiting in anticipation

The waiting that comes in Advent is not ultimately of a kind, though, that removes the people of God from the world of Rome, but one that moves us more deeply into it, for the God who comes to us in Advent is one who troubles the world, whose appearance is accompanied by the thunder of angels and the wrath of Herod. For in Jesus, we find a Messiah who would heal the blind and the sick, eat with the Gentile, raise the dead and cleanse the Temple, and who empowers his disciples to do the same things and then some.

The waiting for Christ was not ultimately one of resignation to whatever may come, but a waiting in anticipation to follow the Messiah, wherever that goes and whatever threats it entails.

Advent is, in other words, for all those with questions about what God is up to, a time of anticipatory hope, soberly and clearly seeing the world, and trusting in a God who will work in ways that cannot yet be seen.

The time of waiting is the time, as 1 Peter reminds us, for the people of Jesus to live lives of holiness and trust in anticipation, although we cannot yet say what that call of the future will look like.

Waiting to follow

It is a time for trust in a God who is coming, and whose arrival will shatter things we cannot yet see need to be shattered and who will call us into places that we cannot yet name. It is the season when the people of God prepare for the unknown future the ways we have always prepared—in prayer, repentance and worship. Advent is a summons to remember who we are as the people of God and that our hope is a different hope than that promised by even the best election.

As we walk through Advent, let us be people who wait for the coming of God, praying we will be people—sobered and chastened—who follow that God to the ends of the earth.

Myles Werntz is assistant professor of Christian ethics and practical theology and the T.B. Maston Chair of Christian Ethics at Hardin-Simmons University’s Logsdon Seminary in Abilene. Email him at Myles.Werntz@hsutx.edu.

My church is something of an anomaly. We’re a Baptist church that follows the church calendar and observes the seasons of the church year. Our denomination as a whole is not usually liturgically minded, but it’s one of my favorite things about our congregation: We run on our own calendar, distinct from what the rest of the (Baptist) world is doing. The church runs on its own schedule and in its own time.

Jake RaabeAlthough most Baptists don’t use a formal liturgy like my church, there’s one season on the church calendar that nearly all of us celebrate, and it began last Sunday, Nov. 27. When November draws to a close, most churches enter a time markedly different from the rest of the year. In the days leading up to the fifth Sunday before Christmas, sanctuaries change colors, music ministers open up new songbooks and preachers prepare to preach from a specific selection of texts and themes. When Advent arrives, something changes in church life.

“Coming towards”

The word “Advent” literally means “coming toward.” Advent actually is the story of two comings. We remember the first time God came to Earth in the person of Jesus in anticipation of the next time he will come near. Thus, our celebrations of Advent are multi-layered. Seeing the baby in the manger, we consider the next time we will see Christ. Hearing about the joy of those who first heard the announcement God had entered the world, we look forward to the joy we will feel when we experience this firsthand.

If ever a year needed an Advent, it’s 2016. This year has seen so much chaos and suffering, it’s hard to keep track of it all. The Zika virus, the global refugee crisis, the deadliest hurricane season in more than a decade, one of the most contentious presidential election cycles in American history, and so on. The feeling of disappointment with this year was perhaps best displayed by comedian John Oliver, who ended his third season by literally setting “2016” on fire. In a year of constant and fierce division, one thing has been agreeable to everyone: 2016 has been hard.

In the context of such a difficult year for so many, the message of Advent is even more pertinent. To observe Advent is to remember what God has done in anticipation of what God will do. As we see Hurricane Matthew devastating our brothers and sisters in Haiti, we long for a better world. When deep fissures are created in family relationships over political issues, we feel there must be a better way. In Advent, we remember God cared so much about much about our suffering that he entered into history to suffer alongside us and undo the evil we brought into the world through sin.

God with us

When Matthew sought to communicate in his Gospel just what happened in that stable in Bethlehem, he used a Hebrew word, Emmanuel, “God with us.” Although God always was with his people, in Christ, God became “God with us” in a new and unimaginable way that altered the course of history and the destiny of the world. Christ began a work in the world that he promises to bring to a completion himself.

As the Apostle Paul reminds us, “We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now and not only the creation, but we ourselves … groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved” (Romans 8:22-24).

Recapture Advent

This year has been hard. For that reason, we should recapture what Advent meant to the first Christians who celebrated it. As we change out the colors and the decorations in our sanctuaries, and as we swap out the décor in our homes, let us remember why we do these things: They remind us of God’s first entrance into the world and help us anticipate the second.

In 2016, let us remember the prayer of the anonymous hymnist centuries ago:

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Jake Raabe is a student at Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary in Waco, Texas.

What you do in your normal life, your everyday routine, is important to God. In our current church culture, we seem to focus on those who are doing “big” things for God. We praise those who can fill stadiums and church buildings, those who write books and make music.

Zac HarrelBut when we give in to a celebrity culture, we lose the power of ordinary faithfulness. The power of the gospel is not communicated most clearly in a stadium of 20,000. It is communicated most clearly when Christians live faithfully in their everyday lives.

Ordinary faithfulness

You can make a huge difference for the kingdom of God, just by being faithful to love God and love your neighbor in your everyday life. Ordinary faithfulness cannot be measured, but the difference it makes is eternal. God has placed you in the family you have, the job you work and the community where you live for a purpose. You don’t have to be a televangelist, a musician or a politician to do meaningful kingdom work.

This is not to say we don’t need Christians who use their gifts to preach to huge crowds, to make God-glorifying music or to lead us politically. We need Christians in every sphere of life, but we must not take away the beauty and power of ordinary faithfulness and ordinary Christians.

The glory of the kingdom of God is you can make an eternal difference in your office, on the farm and in the school. God uses us where we are and with the gifts he has given to us. For instance, I pastor a small church in a town no one has ever heard of, but this church is an outpost of the kingdom of God, and here lives are changed eternally. In my church, there are men and women who are living faithful lives in their homes and in their jobs. They are faithful to God where he has planted them. You never will hear their names, but God knows them and he will honor their faithfulness.

Be who God has called

I long for the day when the church frees men and women to be whom God has called them and to be where God has planted them. The calling of the pastor and the church is to equip our people to do the work of the ministry. Churches must free people up to be faithful in their everyday lives.

We talk about men and women who have done “big” things and the “big” names of the faith from the past. They are great examples, but for many of us, we will not be known outside of our own ZIP code. Highlight those men and women in your congregation who serve God well day-in and day-out, who love their neighbor well day-in and day-out. Encourage them and challenge others to follow their example.

For the holidays …

The holidays give us a great opportunity to live out this ordinary faithfulness. Reach out to those who have lost loved ones recently. Just send them a note or card or give them a phone call to let them know you are thinking about them. Make a visit to a widow or widower or invite them to your table to celebrate with your family. These aren’t huge gestures, but they are faithful ones.

We don’t have to do big things for God. We just have to be faithful where God has placed us and with the gifts God has given to us.

When all we do is celebrate the big and so-called Christian celebrities, we are telling others their ordinary lives don’t matter, and they should leave the world changing-ministry to others.

The truth is world-changing ministry happens around our dinner tables and in our coffee shops. World-changing ministry happens with life-long friendships and co-workers in the next cubicle.

God wants to use you right where you are to show his glory and grace to your family and to your community. Your everyday routine matters to God, because it is through your everyday routine you can be faithful to love God and love your neighbor. Be faithful in what God has given you and where God has placed you.

Be faithful in the ordinary.

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

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” (Ephesians 2:4-6)

Jason DuntonWe are up to our eyeballs in Christmas preparation at our church right now. With everything from banquets, to decorations, to mission projects, to special Christmas services, we really have a lot going on.

I’m not sure whether it’s all of the activities of this season, or simply the busyness that surrounds it, but there is always a palpable buzz that permeates everything this time of year— and there should be. These are good things. It’s a great thing to celebrate with friends, family and co-workers at the end of the year. To celebrate the victories, to acknowledge growth through defeats, to express gratitude for one another and to the Lord for everything that happened over the last 12 months.

We should be excited when Christmas rolls around each year. The Advent of our Lord Jesus Christ is the foundation of our hope and something that should perpetually drive us to our knees in wonder and awe.

Anxiety, not awe

Unfortunately for so many, this time of year is not marked by wonder but by stress that comes from overloaded schedules, Christmas parties, school productions and gift shopping. Instead of awe, we find people gripped with anxiety as they prepare for the pressure that comes with family visits, meals to prepare and even more gift shopping.

I understand this. I really do. As a worship pastor, I feel the weight of this season every single year. I feel the pressure to put things before the congregation that not only are meaningful, but also bigger than last year, better than last year, different than last year, etc. I receive the flurry of emails from church members who all have personal and passionate stakes in what the decorations should look like, the songs that should be sung, who should be involved in the services and productions, and so on. There is a lot going on.

In a lot of ways, the Christmas season seems to come like a hurricane. I’ve found if you’re not anchored to something deep, you’re easily swept away by all of the activity, expectations and busyness.

“Do they know …?”

At one of our rehearsals for our Christmas service, one of the students who recently came to know the Lord and is also a part of our praise band came into the worship center and asked if it was OK to sit with me and listen for a while, to which I said “of course!”

After sitting and listening to a few songs, this student leaned over and whispered, “Do they know what they are singing?”

At first, I was a little confused at the question, so I pressed for clarification. “Do you mean, conceptually?” I asked.

She shook her head and then said: “What I meant was, do they know what they’re singing? I hear the words but I’m not buying it.”

Over the next several minutes, the Holy Spirit washed over me with waves of conviction and allowed the immensity of that insight to absolutely blow my heart to pieces. I found myself beginning to confess to the Lord about all of the times I recently spoke about the glorious grace of Jesus, but my attitude and actions were absent from that speech. I confessed that in the busyness of rehearsals, volunteer coordination and service planning, I had allowed my heart to become numb to the majesty of Emmanuel.

And for the follower of Christ, this is a tragedy.

Picture of reality

I’m a huge football fan. I especially love professional football. My Dallas Cowboys are having an absolutely fantastic year, even if it’s without Tony Romo, which makes me a little sad, but I’m not going to get into all of that right now.

One of my favorite parts of football is the pre-game ritual. This usually is when the team will circle up and a player, often a captain, will bounce to the center of the circle and yell at everybody to get them “fired up.”

One of my all-time favorite pre-game rituals is one the San Francisco 49ers used to do a few years back. During their pre-game circle, the “man in the center” would yell “Who’s got it better than us?” and the rest of the team would shout back to answer him with “Nobody!”

I love that. I’ve always thought that is an incredibly beautiful picture of the reality that we enjoy as believers. There are so many places in Scripture that illustrate this truth, but one only has to visit Ephesians 2 to be confronted with the immeasurable, glorious reality that the follower of Christ lives in. Our great hope, found in the person and work of Jesus Christ, affords us many gifts, and one of the richest gifts we receive through him is the unshakable joy of who we’ve become.

Our hope

When we were hopeless, God introduced himself as our hope. When we were lost in the dark, God introduces himself as the light of our world. When we were dead, God spoke into our tomb and raised us to life so we could walk out of it.

So, as we wade into the often-treacherous, stressful, anxiety-producing waters of this holiday season, may we wear faces that beam with an unshakable joy. May we not cease to share the reason for this great hope that we have. May our love toward one another answer any question of who we are and whose we are.

Because, who’s got it better than us? Nobody.

Jason Dunton is the contemporary worship arts pastor at First Baptist Church in Bryan, Texas, where he lives and loves with his wife, Joanna, daughter, Penelope, and English bulldog, Grubby.

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.”

Eric BlackHe took a little child whom he placed among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me.”

“Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”

“Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us. Truly I tell you, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to the Messiah will certainly not lose their reward. (Mark 9:35-41)

“Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.”

You mean, if we’re going to sign up for this Christianity thing, Jesus expects us to come in dead last, to serve everybody else? Well, that’s not a very good sales pitch for a ticket to heaven! Why would Jesus say that?

What Jesus said

If we zoom out and read what Jesus said to his followers right before, we may have our answer”

They left (where they were) and passed through Galilee. Jesus did not want anyone to know where they were, because he was teaching his disciples. He said to them, “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise.” But they did not understand what he meant and were afraid to ask him about it.

They came to Capernaum. When he was in the house, he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the road?” But they kept quiet because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest (Mark 9:30-34).

Jesus needed some private time with his followers to tell them one of the most important things he was ever going to tell them, “They’re going to kill me.” Then, all his followers could do was argue about which of them was the greatest, the most important, the best. I wonder what criteria they used to one-up each other?

Did anyone hear?

Did anyone hear Jesus say they were going to kill him?

Did anyone hear Jesus say if we are going to follow him, we have to be ready to die, too? (Mark 8:34-35)

Did anyone hear Jesus say if we are not even willing to die, if we do not give up everything we have, we cannot follow him? (Luke 14:27, 33)

We say we believe Jesus speaks the truth (John 14:6) and then proceed to shove one another down the mountain so we can be king.

Not one of us

In Jesus’ time, women and children were shoved down the mountain.

In Jesus’ country, Samaritans and Gentiles couldn’t even get to the mountain. They were despised and ridiculed and kept at the far reaches of polite society with the sinners and lepers.

Yet women and children, Samaritans and Gentiles, sinners and lepers were central to Jesus’ ministry. He went out of his way to care for them. He healed them and forgave them. He put his neck on the line for them.

We’re better than they are …

Today, our women and children, our Samaritans and Gentiles, our sinners and lepers are people with different-colored skin, people with different political views, people with different languages, people who were born somewhere else, people with different buying power, people with different health, people with different preferences, people who are just plain different from us.

We cut down the different people with our words, with the way we talk about them or to them. We cut down the different people with our actions, the way we treat them or ignore them or disown them.

We say we cut down the different people because we are right and they are wrong. What we don’t say is we think we are better than they are and need to cut them down so we can stay on top of the mountain.

So, we cut

We cut down the different wherever we find them.

It’s one thing for us to turn our noses up at those outside the church, those who are not a part of the body of Christ, though doing so still is not acting like Christ.

It’s another thing to turn our noses up at our own, to push down men and women, boys and girls who also claim Jesus is Lord but who are somehow different.

I’ve seen on Facebook how some of us think about others who are different. I’ve heard out of the mouths of some of the people in the church what they think about others who are different from them. I have seen and heard ungodly opinions about black people and brown people, poor people and rich people, gay people and promiscuous people, conservative people and liberal people—and all of it coming out of the mouths and showing up on the Facebook profiles of people who one moment heard Jesus say, “Take up your cross and deny yourself, serve each other, love each other”—people who one moment claim Jesus is Lord, and who in the next moment proclaim “truths” Jesus never preached.

The hardest part of this is admitting I have done the same thing. I have said uncharitable things about people who see the Bible differently than I do and who act on their view of the Bible in ways I don’t like. I have thought I am better and smarter than they are because I don’t do what they do. I have criticized these others who serve in Jesus’ name because they aren’t “one of us.”

Put away

It’s time to put away our divisive ways.

Such talk and behavior does not characterize a follower of Jesus, because Jesus said the greatest are servants of all.

Such talk and behavior does not unify the church—the body of Christ—but divides and diminishes it.

Such talk and behavior does not draw people to Jesus but drives them away and defeats the work of the church, which is to shine the light of Christ to the world so all may see our good works and praise God in heaven.

Others first

It’s time to put others before ourselves.

In place of such talk and behavior, in place of trying to secure our place at the table, in place of shoving others off the mountain, we who call ourselves followers of Jesus must do like Jesus and serve one another.

• We must speak of each other with the dignity that being created in God’s image demands.

• We must treat one another as Christ commands.

• We must do our work of advancing God’s kingdom in the power of the Holy Spirit, serving others through love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Eric Black is pastor of First Baptist Church in Covington, Texas, and a member of the Baptist Standard Publishing board of directors.

The Christian life is a journey lived over the long haul. It took the children of Israel 40 years to get to the Promised Land, and Jesus lived 30 years in Nazareth before starting his active ministry.

Kyle ChildressWe followers of Jesus do not run a sprint; we walk humbly with God, and that takes awhile. Many years ago, Catholic priest, peace activist and writer Daniel Berrigan came up with “Ten Commandments for the Long Haul.” After 27 years of ministry with one small congregation, I’ve come up with my own list:

1. Know where you’re going. Or as our sisters and brothers in the black church used to sing: “Keep your eyes on the prize. Hold on.” Over the long haul, it is easy to go off on detours or become distracted or end up on roads that initially looked like the correct route, so it is essential to keep our eyes on Jesus Christ and his kingdom.

We are to be centered in Jesus and only Jesus—not political leaders, not celebrities, not wealth, nor influence, nor power. As a result, many will consider us eccentric—literally, off-center—and we are. It’s just that our center is different from others. We are centered in Christ and keep our eyes on him.

2. Get in shape. Long-haul journeying means getting in proper condition so we can make it to the end. For those of us following Jesus, it means deepening our lives in Christ through corporate worship, prayer, Bible-reading, serving others and other classic spiritual disciplines.

When an old friend of mine was a young man, he told a veteran Catholic nun he was having trouble praying and asked if she might have advice for him. She said: “First, you need to shut up. And second, it ain’t about you.” In other words, deepening our lives in Christ means sometimes we must learn to listen to Christ and put aside our own jabbering and our own agendas.

3. Never travel alone. We Christians follow Jesus in community. There should be no isolated Christians going our own way. We have a guidebook—the Bible—but we are also to travel alongside others who help us read and interpret the guidebook, as well as remembering fellow disciples who’ve read the book and traveled the Way before us.

Traveling together is how the Holy Spirit works to encourage us, hold us accountable and transform us in becoming more Christ-like.

4. Make friends along the Way. Or to use New Testament language, we are to practice hospitality. Hospitality in the Bible is about receiving the stranger, the other, and being open to how God comes to us through unlikely friends.

If we only have conversations with others like ourselves, live in our own bubbles and social media world, and do not listen and learn from aliens, outsiders and those who are different, we will be in danger of missing out on God and therefore losing our way and more, losing our souls. It also means providing safe spaces for anyone in need.

5. We are not in control. Most things going on in this world we can do nothing about. Berrigan suggested, “When traveling on an airplane, watch the movie, but don’t use the earphones. Then you’ll be able to see what’s going on, but not understand what’s happening, and so you’ll feel right at home, little different than you do on the ground.”

In other words, lighten up about trying to be in control and solve every problem. The world is confusing, chaotic and full of change. So be it and remember No. 1 above. Besides, part of following Jesus is learning that not everything is a problem to be solved. Some things are mysteries into which we are invited to enter and abide.

6. Learn to say “No.” After my ordination many years ago, the old and wise preacher whispered to me, “You’re going to have to learn to say ‘No,’ and ‘Hell, no!’” which startled my young pastor ears. After nearly 40 years, I know he was right.

And saying “no” is not about boundary-keeping and prioritizing time and tasks. It’s about speaking a loud “Hell no!” over injustice and racism, bigotry and violence, and meanness and fear. For example, No. 1, No. 3, and No. 4 will teach us when to say, “No” and “Hell no!”

7. Celebrate. Laugh, eat together as much as possible, play music and practice Sabbath. Jesus was accused by the Religious elite of being a drunkard and a glutton and hanging out and having a good time with people of questionable morals; every time we turn a page in the Gospels Jesus seems to be at a table eating with others, just leaving a table, or on his way to a table.

Meals and partying are ways we enjoy and give thanks for God’s gifts of good food, good friends and good music; along with practicing Sabbath are reminders that it is not all up to us. It’s up to God, and we can trust that God is at work, even when we’re not.

8. Think little. In a world consumed with “bigness,” Jesus did lots of little things, like breaking bread, listening to children, healing persons and talking about yeast and mustard seeds. His disciples worked little jobs and came from small towns. While the Powerful were obsessed with Rome, the salvation of the world comes through Jesus, who was born in a stable on the other side of the tracks in a tiny town.

The testimony of the faithful across the centuries is that God works through the little, the local, the ignored and the marginalized.

9. Embrace weakness. Related to No. 8 above, we learn to trust the power of weakness and to see through the weakness of power. There are some things we cannot do if we are faithful to the suffering servanthood of Jesus. Power constricts us from being like Jesus. Furthermore, when things are going well, we are careful and humble and remember that what looks like good news to the powerful is most likely not God’s good news in Christ.

At the same time, we do not give in to despair when things go badly because we know God is still at work and the end is not yet.

10. Learn to say “and.” My friend Sam Wells says we must learn to ask, “What is the worst thing that can happen?” He suggests we consider that question and come up with some answers, and accept them.

But then we always ask a second question: “And what would happen then?” Wells says this second question is God’s question. The story is not yet over; the journey is still in front of us. This small “and” is a word of hope that although things look bad and perhaps evil has done its worst, God still has one more word.

God gave the children of Israel the original Ten Commandments to help them become a different people, a people who worshiped God and treated each other and treated their neighbors differently from the Egyptian Empire because of God. The Ten Commandments were a survival guide to ensure they could get through 40 years of the desert and arrive at the land of promise and still be recognizable as God’s people.

Today, we need the church to survive the journey and still be the church. Over the long haul, the church can easily become something else, such as the religious wing of a political party or a market-driven religious corporation. Or we can be true to our calling—to embody Jesus Christ and his Way in this hurting world.

Kyle Childress is the pastor of Austin Heights Baptist Church in Nacogdoches and is the co-author with Rodney Wallace Kennedy of Will Campbell, Preacher Man: Essays in the Spirit of a Divine Provocateur (Cascade Books, 2016).