For the past couple years, I’ve been asked to share about Christianity as a part of an annual world religions seminar with local high school geography classes. I get 20 minutes to give the same introduction over and over to groups of the 900-plus freshmen. At the end, I always ask for questions. They vary greatly. But with overwhelming predictability, some form of the same questions comes back again and again: “Why are there so many different kinds of churches/Christians?”

Trevor BrownHaving heard my best effort to offer a unified narrative of the story of Christianity, there’s always this puzzled question related to the apparent diversity of churches. Division does not go unnoticed—not by our young people, and not by our world.

I believe people long for, and are created for, something better than that.

Consider what they see when they look elsewhere. We’re reminded of late that society can seem more polarized by the minute. The gap between opposing political parties in our recent election is a reminder, but this has long plagued America’s political process. On election night, I heard a political analyst pull together the attempts of America’s most recent presidents to address this:

• Bill Clinton, in his 1997 inaugural address, set out to be a healer of this rift. “They (the American people) call on us instead to be repairers of the breach,” he said.

• During his 2000 campaign, George W. Bush promised to be a “uniter, not a divider.”

• At the 2004 Democratic National Convention, then-Senator Barack Obama claimed no red states or blue states, only a United States.

We’ve seen many years of hoping, by vastly different presidents, to bring together what has only grown—as proven this election cycle—further and further apart. Recent data suggests voters in both parties say the opposing party makes them “afraid.”

Bewildered by all the discord, the church has an opportunity to stand in stark contrast. I would suggest this frustration may send people looking for a sense of unity that transcends the divisiveness they see on the news networks. Will they find it?

An opportunity to embody unity

With the world’s divisions in view, I am drawn to spend more time thinking about the opportunity presented for the church’s witness. Many opportunities are held before a struggling American church. One of these is unity. As the chasms that divide us are ever-widening, Christians ought to turn their gaze to this opportunity to reclaim their prophetic witness. The church needs to model for an increasingly polarized society what it looks like to experience unity in diversity.

We need to foster Christian communities that are consumed by cooperation, not competition. Our congregations and their leaders need to come together to lift up what they hold in common, rather than murmuring about their differences behind closed doors. We need to open avenues for the world to understand the unified community of Christ, rather than emphasize the uniqueness of one part, lest we forget our own affirmation of God’s reconciling work in the hearts of those outside our own tradition.

This task will require rethinking at the highest levels. Our denominations need to hold Christian unity over denominational distinctiveness. We need denominational structures that unite, not divide. But I’m inclined here to point us back to the bottom of religious circles, where demonstrations of the uniting love of Christ can be found more readily.

From the bottom up

I serve with a church staff that is committed to supporting kingdom growth above our church growth, to praying in worship each week for those who worship down the street or around the corner, and to building bridges with leaders in our city. Within the last month, I have been a part of multi-denominational efforts that enabled Christians to display the love of Christ through service projects for homeowners across our city and an area-wide collaboration that helped create worship experiences for the thousands of teenagers in our districts, and I met with ministers from other churches to support and encourage the work of the kingdom.

Is there space in your church’s life to celebrate the fact the kingdom of God is bigger than this Christian tradition or that one? Does our worship and communal life celebrate the rich theological and historical tradition so many hold in common? Do our Christian brothers and sisters have a framework of belief that leaves room for others who hold in common this faith in Christ.

If not, then our gospel isn’t big enough.

The kingdom is now—and will certainly be in its fullness—composed of a rich diversity of believers and traditions. If our Christian faith fails to embody this, then whose cause are we advancing?

The ears of ninth graders hear me tell the Christian story and immediately notice its contradiction with what their eyes are seeing. I remind them of a Christ who unifies us despite our plurality.

I hope I’m telling the truth. It is a truth our world is looking for. It is a reality the world will find nowhere else. Can it be found in your community?

Might we and our churches embrace Christ’s call to make known the love of God as we love one another.

Trevor Brown is minister to students at First Baptist Church of Round Rock.

God is not going to use the church to fix the race problem. God is going to use race to fix his church.—Mark DeYmaz 

Steve BeznerI recently spoke about God’s desire for racial reconciliation within the church. As part of that sermon, I mentioned some of the steps we hope to take as a church seeking to reflect our city’s racial makeup. I would invite you to listen to that sermon by clicking here, and to consider some of the following:

• If you do not have a friendship with someone of another race, begin praying and seeking one. If you do have a friend of another race, begin asking the “awkward” questions and seeking understanding.

• Pray for and seek to see how God’s image in other cultures might teach us aspects of his character. How does the way the ___________ culture worships teach us about the character of God? What can I learn from them? How should that affect the practices of my church?

• Pray and invite those who are from different cultures to become part of your life group or Sunday school class.

• Worship, serve and pray alongside members of other cultures.

We believe that the Lord wants to bring healing to his church by bringing every nation, tribe and tongue together under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. We are praying for the Lord to help us take those next steps in the days that are ahead. I hope all brothers and sisters of all nationalities and races will join us in seeking this healing.

Additionally, some of my brother pastors and I have written a statement regarding much of the division in our nation. This statement is brief, but it reflects or hopes for churches in the United States as we move forward. Here it is …

A Declaration in Support of Multi-Ethnic Churches and Racial Healing (presented by the Glocal Family of Churches):

“Over the last several years, a number of public events have taken place across our nation, highlighting the racial divide still haunting many of our cities. These events have sparked protests, riots, divisive social discourse and a spirit of anger among many of our citizens.

“In light of these events, the Glocal Family of Churches publicly declares these events will not divide our congregations. As pastors, we stand in our pulpits this morning—Asian, white, black and Latino—proclaiming that we are one in the Holy Spirit, we are all made in the image of God and we all carry equal worth and value.

“Jesus prayed for the unity of his church. In fact, he proclaimed the identifying mark of his divinity and our relationship as his children would be our unity in him and our love for one another (John 13:35, John 17:21). He did not suggest this unity would happen simply through preaching or programs, but that it would come as we intentionally live and worship together as one.

“Unfortunately, only 14 percent of churches in America are multi-ethnic. By choosing to be mono-ethnic, many churches lose credibility on this divisive issue, even though we unquestionably have the answer.

“We declare: This answer is the good news of Jesus. By his incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection, God made a way for all people to live in relationship with him. There is no division among people who have experienced this gracious love. 

“We further declare: The witness of the church is made credible when we choose to exist as multi-ethnic churches that seek justice for all, radically loving all people. We believe that the church must rise during this time in history by living and worshipping together as one, being unified in our racial and cultural diversity. By doing so, we display the kingdom of heaven.

“We further declare: We will strive not only to live as multi-ethnic churches, but also as churches who strive for justice, strive to celebrate and integrate all ethnicities and cultures, and strive to stand with the oppressed and broken. We do so with the hope that Jesus will be glorified so that the world will see that he is the Son of God, the hope of all people.”

Steve Bezner is senior pastor of Houston Northwest Church.

The election is over. Now thank we all our God, no matter who received our votes. You may have noticed that pundits no longer refer to an election season; they now speak of the election “cycle.” This seems apt, as the term evokes the Mayan calendar, in which a cycle lasts 5,125.366 years.

Ellen Di GiosiaDuring this interminable election cycle, the airwaves have been filled with divisive rhetoric, accusations of illegal and immoral behavior, and a shocking coarsening of political discourse. America seems to have completely abandoned civility.

Browsing Facebook is no longer a fun activity. For every adorable kitten picture, there are 20 political memes. As you scroll through your feed, you have to dodge auto-playing videos of crude and hateful speech. Perhaps it is time to add a Fifth Fragile Freedom to our cherished Baptist distinctives—the freedom to avoid the comment section.

Chaos awaiting?

Over the summer, as the election circus became increasingly nasty, I wondered what the consequences might be for our church. The congregation I serve, Woodland Baptist Church, is filled with people whom I admire and love and trust. But we disagree on many things—the role of government, tax policy, foreign affairs. Our congregation is a big tent politically, and it was troubling to think the chaos outside might seep into our speech or actions toward one another.

Then I heard Nichole Nordeman’s song, “Please Come” on a podcast about the Lord’s Supper. While I drove, tears spilled out, the lyrics reminding me of the gift that Jesus gave us for just such a time:

Somebody somewhere decided that we’d be better off divided,
And somehow, despite the damage done,
He says, “Come.”
There is room enough for all of us.

Demonstrate unity

We at Woodland didn’t want political differences to poison our fellowship. We decided the most fitting way for us to demonstrate our unity was to gather around the table that matters most, the communion table. We joined a movement called Election Day Communion, a 300-congregation show of unity in the face of political division and unrest.

We did not come to the table of Jesus because we ceased to be Democrats or Republicans there; we came to the table of Jesus because he is not Democrat or Republican. We wanted to proclaim our allegiance is first and foremost to the kingdom of God, as revealed in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. Perhaps more importantly, we wanted to remind ourselves where our allegiance should lie.

Around 40 members of Woodland gathered after the polls closed Nov. 8. We read Scripture together. We sang and prayed. We listened to words of wisdom. Then we got out of our seats and gathered around the table. There, shoulder to shoulder and face to face, we took bread and juice and remembered why we are a church. As we sang “For the Healing of the Nations,” we looked up from our hymnals at one another and felt the healing begin in us. It was an incredibly powerful service of worship.

But can I be honest? When I left that gathering, I thought the election would go my way. I hate to admit it, but it felt easy—magnanimous, even—to offer a place at the table to the “losing” side. As I chewed my fingernails in front of the television later that night, I wondered how I could sustain the warm, cozy feelings of unity and charity when, as it turned out, my allegiance was still far too divided.

Both hard and real

Here is how it happened: The next morning, our church opened its doors for English classes, as it does four days each week. Woodlanders took food and flowers to the Center for Refugee Services. I sat down at my desk and made some plans for Sunday school. I prepared to make Advent art with our children. And that evening, as we gathered for our regular Wednesday evening meal, I sat at another table laden with food and looked into the eyes of people on the opposing political team.

What I saw that night was not magic. I saw tables full of people who disagree on many things, but they were reaching out to one another. In some cases, bear hugs followed, but in others it was more tentative. It was kindness. There was tenderness, a softened look in the eye, fewer forceful words. It was hard, and it was real.

It reminded me that communion is not magic, either. It is a practice, something we do over and over again because we know that it shapes and forms us. We cannot walk away from the table with high-fives and back pats, as if unity is guaranteed by one meal. It is a beginning that requires us to continue its work from bread and grape juice to green bean casserole and sweet tea.

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

Editor’s Note: Texas Baptist Voices columnist Kyndall Rae Rothaus hoped to speak to the Baptist General Convention of Texas motion that declared “any church which affirms any sexual relationship outside the bonds of a marriage between one man and one woman be considered out of harmonious cooperation with the Baptist General Convention of Texas.” She did not have that opportunity. Here is the speech she intended to deliver. A video of her remarks posted to Facebook can be viewed within this article.

My name is Kyndall Rothaus, and I am the senior pastor of Lake Shore Baptist Church. I am also a survivor of sexual assault. As recent events have made clear, there is an assault epidemic in our country. One in four women will experience assault.

So I stand before you today passionately against sexual sin. I am here to proclaim without doubt the primary sexual sin of our time is assault. Assault is absolutely contrary to all our Christian values.

While children are molested, girls are raped on college campuses, and men and women attend churches where they seldom, if ever, hear about rape from the pulpit, we squabble about the sexual choices of consenting, responsible adults. If the Enemy were trying to distract us from protecting our children, he has succeeded magnificently.

Our affirming congregations are not asking us to agree with their decision. But they are asking us to respect it, because that is what it has always meant to be Baptist—to respect the local autonomy of the church and the freedom of the individual conscience. If our reverence for autonomy is to languish, I cannot help but lament.

Given our current political climate, I would hope to see the church be a shining example to our country of how to work together despite our differences. What a strong, counter-cultural testimony that would be! The world doesn’t need more polarization, and the body of Christ doesn’t need any more amputations. When did our shared beliefs in the Triune God and our common hope in the life, death and resurrection of Christ become irrelevant?

We are not enemies. We are brothers and sisters in Christ, fellow members of the body, and when we cut off certain members, we cut off Christ’s own limbs. It is not our responsibility to police doctrine and practices or to purify them according to our standards. Baptists have never believed in authoritarian control. We have always trusted Christ to be our head and to be our heart, and we have left the judging to God.

If the BGCT chooses to abandon its commitment to the four fragile freedoms of Baptist polity, I will do my best to love you anyway. Even if today is the day our convention begins to split, I beg you, do not ignore the sin of sexual assault. Address it with at least as much passion and fervor as you have addressed the sexuality of same-gendered love.

Do not be so hypocritical as to talk sexual sin without talking rape. Do not ignore your daughters, your congregants, the 25 percent of women in this room who know intimately what sexual perversion is because we have been unwilling victims to its merciless onslaught. If you haven’t experienced sexual assault, do not assume you are the authority on sin. Ask Sin’s thousands of traumatized victims and see what they can teach you.

Church, if we’re gonna get busy addressing sin, let’s address assault. Thank you.

Kyndall Rae Rothaus is senior pastor of Lake Shore Baptist Church in Waco.

I wonder if anyone paid much attention to the discussion Nov. 15, during the second business session of the Baptist General Convention of Texas annual meeting in Waco. Messengers tried to follow the motions and countermotions and definitions of tabling motions. As we grumbled to ourselves and our neighbors, grousing about the growing complexity of two motions put before us, I dare say we were distracted from what was happening.

From my perspective, I saw something that ought to bring the Baptist General Convention of Texas fully awake.

I saw an older generation supporting a motion declaring “any church which affirms any sexual relationship outside the bonds of a marriage between one man and one woman be considered out of harmonious cooperation with the Baptist General Convention of Texas.” I also saw a younger generation communicating—and desiring to communicate—opposition to the same motion on the grounds of the Baptist distinctive of local autonomy.

Do you see what I see?

From my seat, I saw no one under about 50 years of age speak for the motion to remove churches whose positions affirm and provide full privileges for LGBT members. I also saw all those under about 40 years of age who spoke were against that motion, though not for reasons you might expect.

As a further observation, did anyone notice the gender gap between the for and against positions? If my memory serves me correctly, I saw no woman speak in favor of the motion to disfellowship. How do the men in the group feel about this?

Does anyone see what’s happening?

Gaps on display

I realize my perspective is my own and not without flaws. For instance, determining a person’s age simply by appearance is risky business. I realize, too, I cannot speak for those who did not speak. Therefore, I am only relaying what I saw without attempting a definitive report of facts.

We’ve talked about the generation gap for years when discussing social issues. With respect to the matter of LGBT and same-sex marriage, we have analyzed ad nauseum the difference between the ages of those who oppose same-sex marriage and those who do not. With respect to ecclesiology, when we had a chance to discuss a possible gap in our understanding of local autonomy, we were not permitted a substantive discussion. Even so, a gap was on display for Texas Baptists at the 2016 annual meeting. Did anyone notice?

As the BGCT looks to the future and seeks to maintain its distinctiveness and its longstanding tradition of mission and ministry, is the demise of the BGCT—as it has been known—within view?

Do the gaps in the midst of the BGCT sound the bells?

When Texas Baptists hear the bells this Christmas day, what will they hear?

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play
And mild and sweet their songs repeat
Of peace on earth good will to …

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

For the past two weeks, my Ministry Formations class has been talking about what it means to be a Baptist.

Meredith StoneWe have talked about our Reformation roots, our English roots, Smyth and Helwys, Roger Williams, the Great Awakening, the unfortunate circumstances surrounding the slave-era formation of the Southern Baptist Convention, other Baptist conventions, the SBC conservative resurgence, and the structure and ministry of the Baptist General Convention of Texas, from which these students receive scholarships and support.

This week, we looked at the Baptist Faith and Message.

Before diving into each of the individual topics addressed in the Baptist Faith and Message, I began by describing the differences between confessions and creeds.

Definitions

I told them: “A confession is something that a group of people have chosen to confess about their generally accepted beliefs. A creed is something that a group of people have decided will be necessary beliefs in order to be a part of their group.”

We went through some items in the Baptist Faith and Message and then began to discuss the article titled “The Family,” which is included in the 2000 version but not 1963. I described how the BGCT did not adopt the 2000 version of the Baptist Faith and Message, which included this amendment, but on its website the BGCT does emphasize resolution statements passed by the convention on homosexuality.

After we read through some of those statements I told the class: “For a church to choose to affirm same-sex marriage or advocate for full inclusion of LGBTQ persons in all areas of leadership in the church is a fellowship/non-fellowship issue for the Baptist General Convention of Texas. A church’s position on this issue is defining for their ability to cooperate with the BGCT.”

Innocent question

At that moment one of my students raised his hand. When I called on him he asked an innocent question, “If this is a fellowship/non-fellowship issue, then doesn’t that make it a creed?”

This student and the church he attends do not support biblical interpretations that affirm same-sex marriage or the full inclusion of LGBTQ persons in the church. Yet from his perspective, when a single issue becomes a matter of fellowship, then a move is made toward creedalism.

It is difficult to know on how much we need to agree in order to remain in partnership with one another. I am more than sure there are Texas Baptist congregations and congregants who do not agree with 100 percent of the words, doctrines and interpretations represented in the Baptist Faith and Message or every resolution passed by the convention. Yet most of them still choose to partner with and send support to the BGCT, and the BGCT still continues to accept their money and seat their messengers.

Drawing lines …

So how do we decide which issues are worthy of drawing lines?

If Texas Baptists continue to be a confessional people, we must consider the ramifications of the lines we draw for partnership, affiliation and fellowship.

Why is one issue more important than another? Should other issues also, or instead, be defining issues for harmonious cooperation?

Or if any issue is grounds for disfellowship, then are we defying the freedom that has defined our Baptist heritage and moving toward creedalism?

As my student illuminated with his innocent question, now is an important time to consider what it means to be a Baptist.

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 board of directors.

Two Texas Baptist churches have received letters from the Baptist General Convention of Texas letting them know they face removal from the convention. Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas and First Baptist Church in Austin were notified their welcoming and affirming stance toward LBGT members places them outside the bounds of harmonious cooperation. (In the case of Wilshire, the convention’s response remains conditional upon the church’s vote and, if approved, implementation.)

Garrett VickreyIn the interest of full disclosure, my father-in-law is pastor of Wilshire. Also, the congregation in which I was raised and where my father was pastor 27 years, Royal Lane Baptist Church in Dallas, was disfellowshipped by the BGCT in 2010 for ordaining gay deacons. One gay deacon was even given a missions award by the BGCT—an award eventually taken back. I assume the logic being only non-sinners are eligible for such a prestigious award.

All three of these congregations, along with many others, are separated from the Southern Baptist Convention because it consistently infringed upon the autonomy of local churches to direct their life and ministry.

Audacious interference

Now, the BGCT has inserted itself into a congregational discernment process by issuing this letter of dismissal in the midst of a churchwide vote at Wilshire. Before the church even made a decision, the convention sent this letter. This is an audacious interference in local-church life that should be a red flag to churches throughout Texas.

“Harmonious cooperation” with the convention is based on three factors—giving, prayer and engagement in ministry. These three items have not been breached by First Austin or Wilshire but have been interrupted by BGCT staff. By announcing it will rescind checks from the congregation, the BGCT staff has taken unauthorized action and has ended harmonious cooperation that was continuing until staff action—not convention or Executive Board action—was taken.

As stated in governance, no resolution from the BGCT is binding on a congregation. Disagreement with a resolution position on marriage or any other BGCT resolution is only a minority opinion by a congregation and not grounds for sanctions. No church that allows LGBT people full acceptance into community life has said, “We disagree with the resolution, and we ask that all churches not sharing our minority opinion be disfellowshipped from the BGCT.”

Step toward creedalism

These churches are choosing to cooperate, even while holding to a minority view within the convention. Yet the convention demands conformity. The convention is confusing cooperation with conformity, which is a dangerous step toward creedalism.

The convention has overstepped its bounds in demanding conformity of belief on issues they are not ready to fully move on. The letter to the churches states: “We believe the Bible teaches that any sexual relationship outside the bounds of a marriage between a man and woman is sin. This includes same-sex sexual behaviors.” But this statement is not limited to same-sex behaviors.

Does this mean the convention is prepared to disfellowship any church whose pastor performs the marriage of a man and a woman engaging in sexual intercourse before marriage? I hope a convention that feels led by conscience, as they say, will follow through on their convictions with faith and fairness.

Or are LGBT communities simply an easy target for the convention to excise in order to keep to some perceived Pharisaic holiness branded as the “biblical way”?

Who gets to say …?

Who gets to say what is “biblical,” a convention or faithful followers of Christ in local churches? Turning the “Bible” into an adjective undermines its authority. Too often, “biblical” is a term used to bludgeon minority opinions. Scripture is too important to be leveraged as a means of silencing opposition. After all, the Apostle Paul says, “Who are you to pass judgements on servants of another?” This is one of the foundational scriptural passages for Baptist principles like the autonomy of the local church and soul competency.

This interference should concern churches on all sides of the human sexuality conversations. Even churches that lean toward the more traditional or conservative side of human sexuality issues should be concerned that the convention believes it has the authority to intervene in local-church life in this way. For this reason, my church, Woodland Baptist, has decided not to give to the BGCT next year.

When creedalism demands conformity, who says where the lines are drawn? Will conventions define faith for local churches? Or will congregations of faithful Christians cooperate together, trusting that Christ is the Lord of life and death? God is greater than our petty opinions and even our soundest doctrine. Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God.

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

I grew up in a family of “Yellow Dog” Democrats, the last of our kind in 1980s East Texas. My childhood political leanings could best be summed up in the lyrics of Alabama’s classic tune Song of the South: “Daddy was a veteran, a Southern Democrat/ They oughta get a rich man to vote like that.” We assumed government had at least some role in helping give a “leg up” to those without access to basic needs and services.

Craig NashWe knew many of the people in our church disagreed with this, which is why we got anxious when the preacher started to sound too “political” from the pulpit. We suspected we were on “enemy ground,” even amongst those in our family of faith.

However, I came of age spiritually and emotionally in the 1990s and enacted the requisite youthful rebellion from my family at a time when the “Christian Right” had consolidated most of its power into the Republican Party. I became a more Christian version of Alex P. Keaton, Michael J. Fox’s character in Family Ties, who countered his hippie parents by embracing the supply-side economics of Ronald Reagan. We (the Christian Alex P. Keatons) embraced the notion it is the job of the church, not the government, to take care of the poor.

‘Government or God?’

I have neither the intention nor the theological and biblical chops to answer the “government or God?” question when it comes to taking care of the poor and feeding the hungry. If I had to give you my current position paper on the subject, I’d say Christians are called by God to feed the hungry. We also have a biblical calling to exercise wisdom, and I believe it is wise to use every tool at our disposal to help realize the kingdom of God in our midst, and one of those tools, among many, is government.

I will say, though, that when our churches seek to replace or replicate government services in an effort to “put our money where our mouth is,” we often miss the point. We read the stories of Jesus feeding the crowds, throwing parties and sharing meals with undesirables, and we often see these narratives as a mandate for us to feed people, to give stuff away.

When we read these stories in such a way, we give ourselves an opportunity to warm our own hearts at our good deeds: Aren’t we such good people? We are doing the difficult work of feeding people.

What’s really hard

But I don’t think feeding people is the really difficult work Jesus calls us to. What is really hard is inviting people into our worlds, our homes, our churches as equals. When I read the “giving” stories of Jesus, I sense the real scandal was in his giving up his position of power (Philippians 2, anyone?) to be on equal footing with those who he came to serve. Many of our efforts at charity do nothing more than reinforce the notion that we are the “haves” and those we are helping are the “have nots.”

And this is where I believe government services, operated well, can help us more accurately model the call of Jesus.

If we can render to Caesar by demanding that our civil society better takes care of “the least of these,” maybe we can more effectively render to God by inviting people into our worlds without the burden of us being the “helper.”

Practical goal

Here’s a practical goal for our families and churches: What if for every ounce of energy we spend this coming holiday season to feed someone or to help a family with Christmas gifts, we dedicated an equal amount of effort next year to push for better public schools and higher-paying jobs, or to increase access to nutrition benefits, or to provide more funding for child nutrition programs?

What if this were a form of “emptying ourselves,” by asking someone else, and not us, to be the helper?

Whether we believe government is evil, neutral or a force for good, maybe being “wise as serpents” means using it to empty ourselves of our savior complex, so that we can practice the radical hospitality Jesus calls us to.

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.

Our level of discourse in our country worries me. When you turn on the TV or the radio or, heaven forbid, look on social media, you find name-calling and disdain that should offend us.

Zac HarrelWords matter, and the tone we use to say those words matters. Our public discourse is so hardened, I turn the channel from cable news when my 2-year-old walks in the room. I have no idea what they are going to say or what she may hear. This year’s presidential election only made this worse.

The disappointing truth is there is no real difference between those who claim the name of Christ and those who don’t when it comes to television or social media and the things we say. Pastors and Christian leaders go on cable news and sound as hateful as all of the other guests. If they took their title off the screen, you never would know the difference. And with social media, we all have become cultural critics; we all can broadcast our opinions on politics and the news of the day.

Gracious, gentle speech

The Apostle Paul tells us in Colossians 4:6, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” Is our speech gracious? Is it seasoned with the salt of the gospel?

In 1 Peter 3:15, we are told to be ready always to give an answer for the hope we have in Christ and to do so with “gentleness and respect.” When we speak the truth of God’s word, we should do so with gentleness and with respect for those to whom we are speaking. The way we as Christians talk should be completely different from the world.

Gentle and gracious talk is not weak. It is not waffling on the truth. To be gentle and gracious with our words, especially when speaking the truth, is to be like Christ. When we refuse to speak with condescending and self-righteous tones, we choose to be obedient to the commands of the New Testament, which call us to speak the truth in love with grace.

Don’t buy the lie

We don’t have to buy into the lie that the loudest person in the room is right. We don’t have to buy into the lie that to speak the truth means we speak with contempt and defensiveness. When we speak the truth of God in the public square, we should proclaim the truth of the gospel, and our conversations should be filled with joy and grace, hope and gentleness, love and respect.

Most Christians would agree with this call. We should speak with graciousness and gentleness. Yet when we sign in to our social media accounts, we see the exact opposite. Many times, the way we talk on social media and the stories we share do not reflect the love of Jesus. Our posts and stories we share do not show graciousness.

Jump the disconnect

Why do we have this disconnect? One reason is we don’t have to look someone else in the eyes when we make that post on Facebook. We don’t have to see the emotional toll our harsh words have on someone else. As social media connects us superficially to other people, it disconnects us emotionally and relationally.

When we think about the words we say and the tone we use to say them, we must remember the Great Commandment given to us by Jesus. Do our words and the way we say those words show our love for God? Do our words and the way we say those words show our love for our neighbor?

What we say and how we say it matters. Jesus tells us in Matthew 12:34, “Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.”

What do your words and the way in which you say those words say about the state of your heart?

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

Before Election Day, I was talking with one of my pastors about the 2016 election and what long-term consequences it might have for the church in America. He told me about a political ad he’d seen that ended with the tagline “(Opposing candidate) failed, and now the world is unraveling.”

Jake Raabe“How upsetting it must be to be a child or young person who isn’t equipped to handle a claim like that,” he remarked. He’s right. The message from both sides has been the same: If the other candidate is elected, something terrible will happen.

Regardless of the outcome of the election, American Christians need to give serious reflection to the last year and the way we interact with politics in general.

Consider political interaction

The election of 2016 has divided churches, stoked hostility and allowed moral compromise to creep into our way of interacting with the larger culture. Both sides advanced mocking and ridicule. Both sides relativized wrong by claiming to be “not as bad” as the other. And both sides repeatedly failed consistently to uphold the rights and dignity of all persons in all stages of life. In 2016, the church repeatedly succumbed to these temptations from both sides of the political aisle, and the full ramifications of this will not be seen for some time.

Knowing we did a bad job of speaking to our culture in this last year, we as followers of Christ in the United States must reconsider the way we interact with politics.

If we made any mistake in 2016, it was taking the election too seriously. Like the ad my pastor told me about, both candidates repeatedly advanced a vision of the world that stands in direct contradiction to the Christian gospel.

From the right, we heard the world is moving in a downward spiral to destruction, and the left’s candidate would make that movement irreversible. From the left, we heard the world is headed in the right direction but would be halted by the candidate from the right, who would undo the progress the world is making. The two sides differ on the trajectory of the world but make the same claim: The movement of history depends on who is elected president of the United States in 2016.

Non-Christian worldview

The problem with speaking in this way is it presents a worldview separate from that of Christianity. Saying the world is headed for destruction is explicitly the opposite of what Scripture says the world is headed for. Saying we need a particular human being to save us from destruction is idolatry and mistrust of the living and active God, and I’ve seen an unfortunate number of Christians on both side of the political spectrum make this claim.

God can work through whoever is Americans elect as president, and claiming otherwise, no matter how much we dislike a candidate, is claiming a limitation on the power of God.

Future decided

The future of the world and the direction of history was decided 2,000 years ago on a hill outside of Jerusalem, when all of the powers of the world lost their control over humanity. The future of the world is settled; history already is written, and it doesn’t look like the picture that any political candidate has ever given us.

Christians must regain this perspective on the direction of the world if we’re going to engage our culture in politics in a way that is faithful to the gospel. We as followers of Christ should use every tool at our disposal to demonstrate his reign over the world through the betterment of the lives of all. Unfortunately, though, we far too often mistake the means with the ends and speak as though the history of the world depends on the latest election.

Believe it or not, the world will still be around in 2020, and there will be another election. Christians, let’s try to keep it in perspective next time.

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

People don’t think I see them.

Jason DuntonFor whatever reason, the people in my church consistently are shocked I notice them on Sunday mornings. I see them come in early. I see them come in late. I see them singing. I see them not singing. I see them yawning. I see them wearing faces full of frustration, anxiety, apathy and fear. I see their posts on social media, ranting and posturing, engaging with one another in ways that can at best be described as unhealthy and unhelpful.

I do see them—and my heart breaks for them.

Fear rules

These are troubling times. I’m only 31, and it might simply be due to the fact I’m getting older and becoming more aware of the world, but I just can’t seem to remember a time when fear ruled the day more than today.

Fear of election results.

Fear of church giving going down.

Fear of social agendas.

Fear of each other.

Anxiety-riddled, crippling, immobilizing fear. The church certainly is not immune to fear. In fact, in some areas, we seem to be leading the way, and that wounds me deeply.

It shouldn’t be a shock to us that life is difficult at times, right?

Jesus said this plainly in John 16:33: “In this world you will have trouble ….”

Three phases of life

A professor in grad school would always tell me: “Life consists of three phases, and they repeat perpetually. You are either heading into a storm, in the middle of one, or coming out of one.” We’re going to get knocked down. We’re going to get beat up. This world has plenty of trouble for all of us to pass around.

But!

Thankfully, Jesus didn’t put a period at the end of that statement in John 16. Instead, he continued on to offer an immense, immovable assurance to all who follow him by adding, “Take heart, for I have overcome the world.”

So it seems when faced with trouble, we have a really important decision to make. We can tremble in fear before it, or we can grab ahold of Christ’s wonderful assurance to us and take heart that he has overcome it.

So what exactly does this look like in the life of a follower of Christ? How can one choose to “take heart” when facing the most terrifying of opponents?

Knees bowed

“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or imagine, according to the power at work within us …” (Ephesians 3:20).

I’ve always had an active imagination. In fact, my mother loves to tell stories of how she would walk by my bedroom when I was a child and think it was full of children, but upon further investigation would discover it was just me—giving voice and life to every Ninja Turtle or Transformer at my disposal.

I often imagine what my future will look like in 10 years, 20 years, 50 years. I dream of retiring to Italy with my wife, of my daughter passionately embracing Jesus, of my ministry bearing eternal fruit for Christ’s kingdom. It’s easy for me to dream. I can imagine quite a bit.

These also are attributes of our heavenly Father. He is a dreamer. His imagination is unsearchable. Think about it. Everything we see, smell, taste, touch, experience—he thought that up!

The Rocky Mountains? He thought those up. The duckbilled platypus? All him. The flavors of the chocolate chip cookie? Praise his name, he thought that up! What’s also amazing is that he not only thought of everything, but he had the power to turn those thoughts into creation. What he imagined, he then created—from nothing. What power!

This is not news. God’s incredible imagination and indescribable power are literally the very first things we encounter in Scripture. The creation account in Genesis shines a spotlight on an almighty God who speaks and things come into being. He created the universe without lifting a finger but by simply saying, “Let there be …” and then filling in the blanks.

This is a power that should transform and fundamentally shape our prayer life. Our prayers should echo the immensity of that imagination and power. But more often than not, they become quite the opposite.

We struggle in praying for big things because we grossly underestimate the power at work within us. The same power that raised Christ from the grave now indwells us by his presence and Spirit. We do not have a little nine-volt battery of spiritual power inside of us, but an entire nuclear power plant of divine might.

We should anticipate with great confidence that God will overcome big sins, knock down insurmountable walls, and make us into radiant images of his Son. He is the calmer of the storm. He is the mountain mover.

Hands high

Nothing is more powerful than a hand raised in worship when the water is rising, the enemy is closing in or your heart has just been ripped out.

If you don’t agree, read about Horatio Spafford, the author of “It is Well with My Soul,” and try to be unmoved by a man who lifted his soul to the Lord in worship as the horrors of hell danced around him.

Worship is the response to who God is and what he has done.

In the darkest of nights, worship is the wrecking ball that shatters the gates of our enemy.

Charles Spurgeon said, “Prayer and praise are the oars by which a man may row his boat into the deep waters of the knowledge of Christ.” The mind of Christ is at peace in the assurance that there is none in heaven and earth like our heavenly Father, who is full of perfect strength and perfect love. And we know from 1 John 4:18 that perfect love casts out fear.

Follower of Christ, as we face of the cares of our day, the mountains that seem insurmountable, and the giants that shake our souls with fear, let us anchor our hearts to this: As long as he desires to get glory through the church and in Christ Jesus, we can be sure that God, in ways that are beyond our imagination, will magnificently exceed our expectations—to his everlasting honor and to our everlasting joy.

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.

As Civil Rights hero and Baptist pastor Martin Luther King, Jr. once stated: “We are not makers of history. We are made by history.”

History is important; it shapes our views and opinions in more profound ways than we ever realize. We are products of our context, and our context is a result of historical developments. Our history as a people both warns us of our inherent “blind spots” and destructive tendencies and encourages us with reminders of who we are and where we have found success in our past.

As my dad says, it’s important to remember where you came from.

Baptist beginnings

So, where did Baptists come from? This question is fascinating and requires far more detail than can be provided here. The short version is this: In the latter part of the Protestant Reformation, a small group of ministers and parishioners in England became convinced baptism should be limited to confessing believers, rather than infants, and only baptized and regenerate believers were true members of the church, as opposed to everyone living within a certain region. These early believers faced fierce persecution from the Church of England, who saw these claims as a threat to both church and societal order.

Baptists in America didn’t fare much better. The Puritans who fled persecution by the Church of England sought to create a model “City on a Hill” that would inspire the rest of the world to follow their example. When dissenters began to question the practice of infant baptism, Puritans, like the Church of England, that a basic tenet of their new society was being threatened and responded accordingly. Early American Baptists like Roger Williams, John Clarke, Obadiah Holmes and others faced heavy fines, jailing, banishment and beatings.

In both England and America, religious authorities sought to “stamp out” the small and slow-growing Baptist movement.

Obviously, these attempts failed. Baptists in England faced significantly less persecution following the 1689 Act of Toleration, and American Baptists achieved significant religious liberty nearly a century later following the Revolution.

Avoided political power

To oversimplify a long and complex history, Baptists generally were wary of seeking political power for the next 200 years. In fact, no Baptist became president until Warren Harding in 1921. While they remained involved in individual issues such as slavery, prohibition and Civil Rights, Baptists largely avoided entrenched political power until the Modernist and Anti-Modernist movements of the 20th Century.

Today, through a series of cultural changes and struggles to adapt, Baptist life seems to have become centered around politics. From our early persecution to our struggles against—and unfortunately, for—slavery and segregation, Baptists historically have worked in spite of the government.

Why then, in 2016, are we speaking and acting as if we can only reach the world through elected officials?

Grasping for power

Listening to various “Christian” political radio programs and reading columns by various leaders, it’s been hard to escape a few common refrains. According to a multitude of prominent evangelical figures, Christians are losing political influence and must re-establish it by electing politicians who will further “Christian” causes through legislation. Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump has explicitly played off of this fear, promising that, if elected, “Christianity will have power.”

This is what I have found the most troubling in this particularly contentious election cycle: My Baptist brothers and sisters are seeking after political power.

We’ve been down this road before. Baptists were born out of a reaction against the mingling of religion and political power, which doesn’t work out well for anybody for very long. Christianity is designed in such a way that it does not need “power” of this sort to survive and grow. Jesus didn’t say Congress was the light of the world; he said we are. He did not say the Supreme Court is a city on a hill; he said we are.

Hinders the gospel

Christianity’s witness to the world cannot be furthered by political means; if Baptist history shows us anything, it’s that political power only hinders the gospel.

Should Christians be politically active? Of course. Baptists have a proud tradition activism against societal evils such as slavery and segregation. But there is an important difference between using our political voice as a tool to better the lives of others—as Myles Werntz recently wrote about—and seeking to become an entrenched political power.

Baptists should be the first among Christians to realize this, because our very existence is a testament to what happens when the two are confused. Baptists, remember your roots in 2016. Let’s avoid the mistakes and repeat the successes of the past.

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