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).

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.