Rejection of critical race theory does not mean denial of systemic racism, and those who make that assumption are “bearing false witness,” the president of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary wrote.

Adam Greenway posted an open letter to “the Southwestern Seminary and Scarborough College Family” on the seminary’s website Dec. 22.

In it, he defended the statement by six Southern Baptist seminary presidents that declared critical race theory and intersectionality incompatible with the Baptist Faith & Message.

“While other voices of support for the [Council of Seminary President] statement have made their views known, greater attention has been given—especially on social media (where the sardonic and snarky seem to rule the day)—to critics who, among other things, asserted that we were reaffirming our commitment to whiteness, assumed that we are propagating fear to maintain control, announced that we are complicit with evil, and ascribed to us the pejorative label of theological architects of American slavery,” Greenway wrote.

“And this is just a mere sampling of the complaint, criticism and condemnation that has come our way, both publicly and privately.”

Greenway explains why he wrote the open letter

While criticism might be expected from outsiders who do not share Southern Baptists’ “convictional commitments,” Greenway wrote, he felt the need to address the issue after reading an opinion article by Ralph West, founding pastor of The Church Without Walls in Houston.

In the Dec. 16 article, West publicly announced he intended to withdraw from the doctoral program at Southwestern Seminary and disassociate from the Southern Baptist Convention. West also called on the six seminary presidents to “repent.”

“I only learned about my fellow Southwesterner’s plans the same time the rest of the world did: when the Baptist Standard published it. But once I read it, I immediately called him, and two brothers in Christ had a wonderful time of conversation sharing hearts and minds with one another in candor and charity,” Greenway wrote.

Greenway noted West’s article continued to circulate and was carried by numerous religious and secular news outlets.

“Regrettably, Pastor West has even been defamed as a ‘Marxist’ by some self-appointed defenders and definers of conservative Baptist orthodoxy,” he wrote.

A second reason Greenway said he wrote the open letter was an email he received from an African American student at Southwestern Seminary who questioned whether he is welcome at the seminary.

“My heart broke over the fact that this student would even contemplate that he should leave our seminary, but I also realized there are likely other African American and other ethnic minority students at Southwestern Seminary and Scarborough College who may be having similar internal deliberations but who haven’t sent me their emails,” Greenway wrote.

Not about ‘feelings and sentiments’

He insisted the statement by the seminary presidents had been misunderstood and “treated by some like a Rorschach test, where ultimate meaning is determined by the subjective experience of the recipient, not by the objective exposition of the statement.”

Much of the criticism has centered on how the seminary presidents’ statement made readers feel, he wrote.

“Feelings and sentiments are undeniably visceral, but not unimpeachably veridical,” Greenway wrote.

The seminary presidents’ statement “not only did not deny systemic racism, but reaffirmed denominational condemnations of it,” he insisted.

“I want to make this point as charitably but honestly as I can: misconstruing the (Council of Seminary Presidents) statement’s rejection of (critical race theory and intersectionality) as being synonymous with or code for the SBC seminary presidents denying systemic racism is bearing false witness,” Greenway wrote.

“One of my colleagues has even written specifically about how Christians should affirm the reality of systemic racism. Furthermore, when feelings become all-consuming and paramount in determining courses of action irrespective of the facts contained in plain language, we commit the fallacy of eisegesis, or reading into texts meanings we feel or interpretations we want to impose.”

Experiences don’t determine incompatibility to BF&M

Greenway also took issue with those who criticized the “optics” of six white males making a statement about critical race theory. The life experiences of the seminary presidents has no direct relationship to whether critical race theory is incompatible to the Baptist Faith & Message, he asserted.

“The reason is straightforward enough: human experience neither determines nor falsifies biblical and theological truth. The Scriptures are the spectacles through which our own experiences must be evaluated, not the other way around,” Greenway wrote.

Rather than being “a value-neutral collection of the insight about the individual and collective experiences of African Americans and other ethnic minorities,” critical race theory is “a comprehensive ideology that makes transcendent truth claims about creation, humanity and the social order that stand in diametric opposition” to the Baptist Faith & Message, he insisted.

The seminary presidents’ statement did not suggest critical race theory and intersectionality have nothing to contribute, Greenway added. He compared critical race theory’s decrying of racism to Islam’s adherence to monotheism and Mormonism’s emphasis on family—an element of truth in the midst of an otherwise false belief system.

Greenway noted he looks forward to the “time of dialogue and fellowship” when the seminary presidents meet with leaders of the National African American Fellowship of the SBC next month.

“It is entirely appropriate for Southern Baptists of various perspectives to deliberate matters of importance to our convention of churches and the broader cultural context in which we find ourselves presently situated. And that debate can—and perhaps must—be vigorous at times,” Greenway wrote.

“What it should never be allowed to descend into, however, is a disputation laden with inaccurate claims and irresponsible language, both of which take us further from settled conviction and enduring consensus during a time when our world needs the gospel message now more than ever.”

Greenway ended his open letter by affirming both his grief for African Americans who have experienced injustice and his commitment to a “high view of Scripture” and “confessional fidelity” alongside the Great Commission and cooperation as the core components of Southwestern Seminary’s “big tent vision. He insisted “these two positions are not mutually exclusive and contradictory.”

Baptists Preaching is a column from the Baptist Standard. It is not an effort to advance any one theology or style but to present what a collection of Baptists considers a word from God. Likewise, Baptists Preaching offers a repository of Baptist preaching for future study and research. To recommend a sermon to be featured in Baptists Preaching, please contact eric.black@baptiststandard.com.

Pastor Kan’Dace Brock: Designed with Purpose in Mind (Psalm 139:11-14)

Pastor Kan’Dace Brock, lead pastor and co-founder of The Message Church in San Antonio, encouraged her hearers to know they are designed by God for a purpose. Brock addressed God’s omnipresence and omniscience and detailed milestones of a baby’s development during pregnancy. She proclaimed: “God didn’t outsource the creation process. God didn’t use secondhand materials.”

Brock called her hearers to do as David did in response to knowing he was “fearfully and wonderfully made” by God. She exhorted them to praise God and to regard themselves as “fierce and fabulous.” Finally, she asked, “Do you know God for yourself?”

This sermon was delivered on Apr. 26, 2019, at a women’s conference at Resurrection Baptist Church in San Antonio. The theme of the conference was “Finding Her.”

A sermon script is available here.

My favorite musical artist is Childish Gambino. His music—like everything he makes and like the man himself—is thought-provoking, deep, insightful, incisive and painfully honest. This is nowhere better exemplified than in a series of handwritten notes he posted in 2013 leading up to the release of his album Because the Internet.

I read those notes for the first time recently. One line resonates deeply with me, playing on loop in my head like the hook to a catchy song for which I don’t know the rest of the words: “I got really lost last year.”

I think we’ve all spent more time lost than we’d like to admit. So much of life is wandering, and we have so little idea where we’re going or what we’re doing. I can say with certainty I don’t really know what I’ve been doing for the last year, possibly longer. I’ve done a lot of drifting and letting life happen.

I got really lost last year.

Not sure of ourselves

Working in youth ministry, I honestly got tired of hearing people talk about “finding your identity in Christ.” That’s the only thing people wanted to talk about at retreats, the only advice anyone ever seemed to give. I’m not entirely sure what it means.

Most of the time, I think it’s just more empty Christian jargon, pointless platitudes devoid of power or purpose beyond providing a palatable answer to life’s problems. But finding our identity in Christ still matters, because it speaks powerfully to us.

We don’t know who we are. We search desperately for meaning in so many places, futilely trying to find ourselves in a series of accomplishments, accolades, conquests or good deeds. We’re looking for something or someone to define us, and in all this searching we get lost.

The truth is, in our oppressively black and white views of the world, it’s OK if you’re lost for a little while—whether you’re 16 or 60. It’s OK if you’re not really sure who you are. It’s OK to be confused, mixed up, turned around, angry and surly, somber and anxious. Because in all of that, there is one thing that will remain constant.

God knows who you are. He knows where you are and where you’re going, and he doesn’t forget you.

Demo day and rebuilding

Deconstruction is a popular idea these days. Even more, it’s a relevant word at this time of year, as people return to the places they grew up, surrounded by a faith or culture or community they’ve become disillusioned with or even outright rejected.

Deconstruction is important or sometimes even necessary, but not more than the aftermath. It’s easy to tear something down to the studs, but far more difficult, more painstaking and time-consuming to rebuild it or to build something new in its place.

Far too often, what we end up building on the other side of deconstruction looks suspiciously like a reflection of ourselves, an idol crafted in our own image to which we bow down, as if the roles were reversed. But what else can we expect when we turn inward to find truth?

Finding our own truth is a temptation when we get lost, when all the directions we were given seem to be sending us in circles, when the glasses designed to clear our vision just leave our sight blurry and our heads throbbing.

We resolve to find our own way to truth and consequently to heaven, as though others had not blazed the trail before us, as though that path were not littered with the ruins of countless, futile Babels.

Be honest, head home

Whatever road down which your journey might lead, be honest. We’re really good at lying to ourselves, justifying and making excuses. It’s easy to convince ourselves something is the truth just because we want it to be, it feels good, or it’s easy.

Maybe the truth will be what you want it to be, but it will not be true because you want it to be. It will be true because it is the truth.

Be brutally, uncomfortably, deeply honest with yourself. Be contradictory, incomprehensible, confusing, confused, frustrating, messy, difficult, speechless—so long as you’re honest. And let honesty lead you to truth.

Find your way home. Home doesn’t have to be where you came from or where you started. It just has to be where your heavenly Father is, waiting with open arms, bursting with fond memories of his child, and still with plenty of room for new children.

I got really lost this last year, and I’m still finding my way back. But I’m confident I will, and I hope to find you there.

Your journey may be circuitous, lengthy, ugly, shameful or otherwise. This is the rare road trip where the destination is what matters most. Just come home. Your Father is waiting, patiently.

Trent Richardson is the singles associate pastor at The Woodlands First Baptist Church. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

EDITOR’S NOTE: “Justice looks like …” is a special series in the Voices column. Readers will have the opportunity to consider justice from numerous viewpoints. The series is based on each writer’s understanding of Scripture and relationship with Jesus Christ. Writers present their own views independent of any institution, unless otherwise noted in their bios.

You are encouraged to listen to each writer without prejudgment. Then, engage in conversation with others around you about what justice looks like to you.

Click here for more information about the series. Click here to read the full “Justice looks like…” series.

Not since Sept. 11, 2001, has there been a more tumultuous year of the 21st century than this year—2020. Please consider the facts.

Sources of tumult in 2020

Our country has struggled with a global pandemic that has claimed, as of this writing, the lives of more than 300,000 people and counting. This once-in-a-century event has caused the restriction of religious gatherings, halted sporting events, closed school systems and placed a pause on life as we know it.

The pandemic, in turn, has plunged the country into a deep recession that has resulted in the loss of millions of jobs. In addition to the public health mayhem, the citizens of our country were made to witness and even experience the anguish and rage that has been a lingering cancer and disease in the Black and brown communities in America for more than a century.

Millions of people witnessed on national television the death of George Floyd, one more person of color who died while in police custody. George Floyd was not a celebrity of note. He tragically was one of many African American males who lost his life during an arrest attempt in a metropolitan city in our country.

As a result of George Floyd’s death, there have been demonstrations in small towns and in metropolitan areas nationwide; in many cases the demonstrations and protests persist. Just like spectators at a theatrical performance, we have witnessed the outpouring of emotions by thousands of people of all ethnicities, skin colors, socio-economic classes and levels of education.

The outcry of the masses has resounded in unison, saying that the disproportionate killing and harassment of Black and brown people groups must stop.

Still do not understand

While the events of the present day are shocking and appalling to many, I discovered a long time ago that many of my well-meaning friends and colleagues still do not understand the gravity of the situation.

• They do not understand that systemic racism continues to pervade our country today.
• They do not understand the disproportionate differences in criminal sentences for offenders of one race versus another.
• They do not understand, or maybe cannot understand, the pain of prejudice and bigotry.
• They do not understand that the phrase “Black Lives Matter” is more descriptive and personal than a political action group.
• They do not understand that the tears so many Black people cry emanate from a place deep within the souls of a people who must: (1) assimilate in order to be accepted, (2) whose male role models often are softened in the media and, in order to be tolerated or recognized, are forced to be seen as effeminate; and (3) who fear their child’s first traffic stop may be his/her last traffic stop.

Many really don’t understand our journey. Lost on so many are the words of James Weldon Johnson:

“Stony the road we trod,
bitter the chast’ning rod,
felt in the day that hope unborn had died;
yet with a steady beat,
have not our weary feet,
come to the place on which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
we have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
where the white gleam of our star is cast.”

What justice looks like to me

Justice looks like an America that can celebrate its diversity. It is a place where character counts, instead of the color or pigmentation of one’s skin. It is the full recognition, that as human beings, we are created in the “image of God” and are brothers and sisters co-equal and composing the human race.

Not until we see the utter humanity and commonalities that exist in all of us can we truly grasp the worth of all people.

As Christians, the lessons of loving one’s neighbor in the same manner in which one is to love him or herself should be easy. Unfortunately, we tend to be the people who seemingly are awestricken and confused by the outcry of people who have lived with systemic inequities.

Jesus makes it clear; he prioritized the worth of all people when he said, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40).

In the words of an unknown author: “We shall know the true meaning of justice when we come to realize that an injury to one is the concern of us all.”

Rev. Dr. Michael Evans Sr. is the pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Mansfield, Texas, and the president of the Baptist General Convention of Texas. The views expressed are those of the author.

Click here to read the full “Justice looks like…” series.

Jimmy Pogue has taught English at Cooper High School in Abilene more than 30 years. He is a member of Pioneer Drive Baptist Church in Abilene and a graduate of Hardin-Simmons University. From deep in the heart of one Texan, he shares his background and thoughts on being a Christian in public education. To suggest a Baptist General Convention of Texas-affiliated educator to be featured in this column, or to apply to be featured yourself, click here.

Background

Where else have you served, and what were your positions there?

Cooper High is the only high school I have served. I am an adjunct instructor of English for Hardin-Simmons University.

Where did you grow up?

Abilene, Texas.

How did you come to faith in Christ?

I grew up in the church. In June 1973, I made a profession of faith in Christ. I was raised by godly parents and was influenced by godly Sunday school teachers, Royal Ambassador teachers and choir teachers. When I felt “the tug,” sitting in our “assigned seat,” I knew that I knew the Holy Spirit was calling me.

Where were you educated, and what degrees did you receive?

Bachelor and Master of Arts degrees in English, Hardin-Simmons University, 1986, 1991

About education

Why do you feel called into education?

I always felt I was called to work with young people. I believe young people need a listening ear, someone who champions them and someone who can encourage them to serve others.

How does being a Christian influence your work in education?

It is the fabric of who I am. I think as a Christian we are called to serve others, and there isn’t a better place to serve others than in a public school.

What is your favorite aspect of education? Why?

Building relationships. I believe, at the core of education, you must build community with your students. My students know my class is a “judgment-free zone,” and it gives them the courage to ask and answer questions, and to discover things about themselves they may not otherwise have realized.

What one aspect of education gives you the greatest joy?

Seeing my students achieve something they didn’t believe they could achieve.

What is your favorite class to teach? Why?

I have been the student council sponsor at Cooper for 27 years. It is a service learning class. The curriculum is based on what we can learn through service and how we can build a stronger global community.

We have a 19-year partnership with Chinle Elementary School, a school in the heart of the Navajo Nation, where we travel each year to work with children to cross racial, economic, societal and educational boundaries. This year, my student council has initiated a food pantry on our campus to help with local hunger.

How do you expect education to change in the next 10 to 20 years?

I think this year has shown us the importance of remote learning for the future of education. I would expect more emphasis will be placed on how we challenge remote learners. I also see how we are more career-driven—medical high school, technology high school—and I think we will see more schools like that in our future.

Name the three most significant challenges and/or influences facing education.

The first challenge is the reliance on school to be all things for all people. School isn’t just the place you go for “reading, writing and arithmetic” anymore. It is a place where community is taught, where children are fed, where students find counseling, where teachers find themselves oftentimes in a parental role.

The second challenge is to keep up with the ever-changing face of technology. It is said school is preparing students for “jobs that haven’t been invented yet.” However, finding the technology and funding is a major challenge.

The third challenge is simply acceptance. We always must accept a child as he or she comes to us, no judgment needed, and love on him or her as our own.

What do you wish more people knew about education?

It’s a daily challenge. Every day, I meet students face-to-face and remote at the same time—more than 160 of them—and each one presents a unique set of circumstances to me.

About Baptists

Why are you Baptist?

I believe in the triune God. I believe in Jesus Christ who was born of a virgin, died as a sacrifice for sin, was raised from the dead, and is coming back one day. I believe in the authority of God’s word, the Bible, and I believe in the priesthood of the believer.

I also strongly believe in the autonomy of the local church, and I support the Cooperative Program for missions.

What are the key issues facing Baptists—denominationally and/or congregationally?

We must be “on mission.” The Great Commission teaches us to “go and make disciples.” We always must be on the ready to share the gospel of Jesus Christ. I believe that is the key issue denominationally and congregationally.

About Jimmy

Who were/are your mentors, and how did/do they influence you?

My dad, James Pogue, who taught me the value of hard work and how to be a good friend.

My high school assistant principal and the man who was principal at Cooper and hired me, Lynn Mendenhall. He taught me the value of showing kindness to everyone I meet.

And a dear friend, John Gossard, who now lives in heaven, who showed how to see and celebrate God in everything.

What is the impact of education on your family?

Education is huge in our family. My wife Laura is an English professor at Hardin-Simmons, my son Jamie plans to teach and coach, and my daughter Katie is planning on going into the ministry.

Other than the Bible, name some of your favorite books or authors, and explain why.

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens is my favorite book to teach in English, because it tells the story of sacrifice and redemption of a man who is shown love by only one person.

I also love Bob Goff’s Love Does and Everybody Always, and John Eldredge’s Beautiful Outlaw.

What is your favorite Bible verse or passage? Why?

Psalm 3:3. “For Thou, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory and the lifter of my head.”

This verse speaks to me all the time, reminding me God always is with me, that he is my salvation, and the One to whom I constantly look.

Who is your favorite person in the Bible, other than Jesus? Why?

It’s actually a group—the four men who brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus. These guys inspire me so much. Theyknew their friend needed Jesus, and when they couldn’t get him to Christ, they cut a hole in someone’s roof to get him there.

It is inspiring to me, because I ask myself, “What am I doing to bring people to Christ?”

I need to be a better roof-cutter.

Name something about you that would surprise people who know you.

I love to watch birds in nature and consider myself a bit of a “hummingbird whisperer.”

What is the greatest blessing in your life?

The biggest blessing in my life would be my wife of 34 years, Laura, and our two children: Jamie, a senior at Hardin-Simmons, and Katie, a freshman at Houston Baptist University. Seeing both of them walk down the aisle, giving their lives to Christ, was an indescribable blessing for Laura and me.

Our country recently passed 300,000 deaths due to COVID-19.

300,000.

That number is unfathomable.

300,000.

Think about the sheer size of that number, the families who are grieving, and the communities that never will be the same.

Just imagine for a moment how this pandemic forever has changed us, and experts say this number will rise steadily throughout the winter.

Yet, it seems to me we have not even begun to reckon with the sickness and death. We have not looked at the reality.

Hope begins with reality

Instead, we have tried to discount the loss, make fun of restrictions and downplay the truth right in front of our faces.

Yes, we are people of hope and not fear. Yes, we should hold on to the truth of the sovereignty of God even in the midst of sickness and suffering, but we also must recognize the pain and hurt around us.

It is a time to honor those who have lost their lives, celebrate those who have fought this virus and sit with those who grieve.

Why have we had no national mourning for this pandemic? Why hasn’t the church pushed for this national mourning?

If we truly are people of hope, then we can face the hard reality of the brokenness and evil of this world and this virus, and we can comfort those who mourn with our presence and peace.

There is a time to rejoice and a time to mourn. Now, it is time to mourn.

We need pastors in this moment

As Christians, and especially as leaders within the church, we are called to comfort those who suffer and those who grieve, to be the hands and feet and ears of Jesus to the hurting around us.

I have noticed how many of the conversations around church leadership and the pandemic are about how to lead the church in the post-pandemic world. We are given how-to principles, and the leadership machine just keeps churning. But we don’t need entrepreneurs in this moment; we need pastors.

Before we move on to the next how-to, we need to stop and seek to be a pastoral presence to those whose lives feel like they may not move on from this pandemic. We need to be faithful to those who still are dealing with the effects of being sick, the grief of losing a loved one, the shock of not being able to be near a loved one in the hospital.

The how-to will be there, and the principles of leadership for the future can wait. Right now, we need pastoral care. We need compassion.

We need to come together and accept the reality of the loss we collectively have felt. Those who have faced COVID-19 on the frontlines need to know we hear them, we love them, and we are with them.

A time to shine the light in the darkness

In this season of Advent, we recognize the darkness, and we look toward the coming light. We are in the middle of a dark season, and too many of us downplay the darkness.

This moment calls for a church that meets those in the darkness and points them toward the light.

It doesn’t need a church more consumed with partisan politics than with the hurting around us. It doesn’t need a church needlessly divided over small measures of prevention. It doesn’t need another social media post.

We are people of the light. May we go into the darkness of the moment, recognize the reality of the darkness and shine the light of Jesus. He came to us. He comforted us. He is with us.

As the body of Christ, may we mourn with those who mourn, and may we shine the light of the gospel into the darkness of this winter.

Zac Harrel is the network missionary for the Heart of Texas Baptist Network in Early. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

I was going to write on joy today, and then I woke up.

It’s not a country song.

In a month when we’re used to singing “Joy to the World,” but at the end of a year when joy seemed—seems—always out of reach, I was going to force myself to write on joy today.

Over dinner last night, my wife, children and I tried our best to answer our Advent question of the day: “What is your definition of joy?”

I vaguely remember saying something like, “Joy is something not dependent on circumstances.”

That was last night. This is today.

This morning, I woke up to technical issues that needed to be addressed right away. If you’re anything like me, technical issues never are a source of joy.

But no matter. I was determined to write on joy, and write on joy I would. If the technical issues would just quit long enough for me to collect my thoughts … about joy. If I could just unclench my jaw.

Really, though, how can a person even mention joy with all that’s going on right now?

With all that’s going on

A dear friend lost her brother in Fort Worth yesterday after a long fight with cancer and then COVID-19. We have published a lot of obituaries this year. Losing people we love is not a source of joy.

Every time we turn around, someone else is testing positive or exhibiting symptoms of COVID-19, and we worry. A dear friend’s uncle in West Texas is fighting for his life against the virus. This is not a source of joy.

No, there has not been much joy in health and medicine this year, not even in the promise of historic vaccines. Nor has there been much joy in politics or race relations. Or the job market. Or education.

Instead of this year being a wellspring of joy, it’s been more like a factory of fear, anger, worry and division. We’re worn out.

Many pinned their hopes on 2021 and the return of joy in a new year that isn’t 2020. But, alas, pesky reality keeps interfering. Millions will wait months to be vaccinated, and millions of jobs won’t magically return on Jan. 1. With ongoing friction over the presidential election and race, we’re not likely to build or mend trust between us by Jan. 1.

With all of this and more going on, we can’t collect our thoughts … about joy.

Even amid what’s going on

Joy isn’t dependent on circumstances? That’s a mighty good thing. Otherwise, this year would have done more than snuff out the flickering flame of joy. This year would have crushed the whole candle and taken the rest of the Advent wreath with it.

That joy isn’t dependent on circumstances means the flame of joy can alight anywhere, anytime. It means joy always is victorious.

But that’s the pastor in me talking. That’s the voice a cynic might say was paid to feed people that bologna every Sunday morning, a voice clearly out of touch with the real world.

It’s also the voice of someone who spent time in hospital rooms with families who shared laughter amid scary and uncertain circumstances. It’s the echoes of mourners who sounded much more like partygoers at their mother’s, aunt’s, cousin’s funeral. I tell you, I’ve never seen—or heard—so much joy as I saw there.

And I wonder: Have we ever really known joy at Christmas? Or have we just mistaken happiness for it?

Finding joy where I wasn’t looking

For the first time in more than 40 years of living, Christmas doesn’t feel happy this year. Instead, it feels like an obligation, a day on the calendar we’re going to acknowledge and get through no matter what. We’ve put up the decorations, we’ve lighted candles, we’re singing the songs, and we’re going to celebrate Christmas this year—we say through gritted teeth.

Where’s the joy in that?

No, this Christmas season doesn’t feel happy, and it makes me wonder if the “joy and wonder” of Christmas in years past was the actual “bologna.” If the lights and tinsel, the trees and ornaments, packages and bows, stockings and toys, songs and well-wishes, cookies and Christmas movies—if we mistake for joy all those things that only make us feel happy.

Now that I’m thoroughly depressed, I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to write about joy today, because I have to write whatever I’m going to write, and write it soon. The clock is ticking. If I could just collect my thoughts.

Maybe I’ll set this aside for a little bit. Stand up and stretch. Step outside for a breath of fresh air.

I know, I’ll spend some time praying for pastors. To say they are hard-pressed right now is to speak too mildly. This has been one of the hardest—if not the hardest—years of their ministries. Joy seems elusive for many of them; forget about happiness.

There’s something about praying for pastors. As unlikely as it seems, there’s joy there, dancing like a flame.

In what unlikely places might you find joy this year?

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com or on Twitter at @EricBlackBSP. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

I did not vote for Joe Biden. In fact, I always have voted Republican, except in a couple of local elections where I cast a ballot for a Democrat.

I have voted for winners and losers over the years. I voted for candidates who were losers in more ways than one.

There always is tension within my heart concerning the disconnect between the ideals for which we fight and the personalities for whom we vote. Character is an important issue, but elections require us to vote for principles, ideas and issues above the personality of any given candidate.

Personalities come and go in politics. I try not to vote for personalities, but to support candidates who most closely—but never perfectly—resemble my personal beliefs about government and society.

After the Electoral College vote this week, it appears I have voted for another losing presidential candidate. This comes at a time when our nation is so bitterly divided, and when I feel marginalized in the public forum because of my Christian faith.

I constantly am reminded that, as a Christian and a local church pastor, my influence in our culture is waning. How do I approach a future in this country and in my community where my voice no longer may be as influential as it once was?

Learning from the loyal opposition

Surprisingly, I may have found a way forward by learning more about the life and career of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, famous liberal Supreme Court justice. What does Ginsburg have to do with my presence in my country and community at the end of 2020? Her time on the Supreme Court was a model of the loyal opposition.

Ginsburg served 17 years on the U.S. Supreme Court before her death. She was on the losing side of many cases that came before the court.

When writing her dissenting opinions, Ginsburg explained clearly, and sometimes passionately, why she disagreed with the majority opinions. Ginsburg often would end her written opinions by stating simply, “I dissent.”

She remained active on the court until she died. She did not quit or give up. Some say her written dissensions were acts of hope that one day the court might read her opinions and be swayed in future cases.

I am impressed by her ability to remain on the court, even to develop a personal friendship with conservative justice Antonin Scalia, and to make losing arguments while also remaining hopeful.

Perhaps the Lord is preparing me for my role as the loyal opposition in my country and community.

Being the loyal opposition

First, I am going to be a loyal American, family member, pastor and friend. I am not going anywhere. It may be necessary to get some distance for a time, but I will not separate completely or permanently.

I commit to be present and express my ideas and beliefs as clearly as I can so they may be taken seriously. I will try not to vent my emotions and frustrations, but please forgive me when I do.

I commit to listening well and to taking your ideas seriously. By doing this, it is my hope we will find a way forward together as a nation, as a family, as churches and as friends.

The enemies of this country, as well as God’s enemies, do not want us to go forward together. I will not let them win in this case. America is too important, as are our families, friendships, churches and communities.

Second, it was the great Irish philosopher, Bono, who wrote, “We are one, but we are not the same.” I choose not to fret over our differences. But there are differences, and I dissent.

I do not agree with everything I hear or witness in local, state or national politics. I do not agree with how some people speak of one another and act toward one another. I do not agree with all the decisions made by my friends, family or church members.

By dissenting in a right and good way, I hope to be influential in the lives of others, but that is an unknown. Regardless, I must live according to my principles and beliefs. Currently, that means in much of society, culture, politics and, at times, in church life, I dissent.

As far as it depends on me, I will be engaged with others, even those with whom I disagree. I will seek to understand and to be understood.

I hope to persuade or be persuaded. Ultimately, I hope by engaging with others, God’s Holy Spirit will reveal Christ, convince of the truth, and lead sinners to repentance. I want to be a witness and reveal Jesus in all I do and say.

I am hopeful for the future of our country, families, churches and friendships. I am hopeful, because I personally have experienced God’s grace. If God has given grace to me, then there is hope for us all.

Scott Jones is the pastor of First Baptist Church in Rockport and a member of the Baptist Standard board of directors. The views expressed are solely those of the author.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)

I think we would all agree this Scripture is a summation of the work and mission of Jesus Christ. Jesus preached good news to the impoverished, the economically maligned. Jesus proclaimed freedom to those held captive. Jesus declared the blind would see, the oppressed would be released. He declared God’s favor had entered into human history. As Jesus’ witnesses, we share his burden.

I say “we,” but there are some concerns about whether or not the recent statement by the presidents of the six Southern Baptist seminaries hinders them from sharing in this burden.

To be sure, I do not offer a full-throated affirmation of all of the tenets of critical race theory and conceptions of intersectionality. I am fully aware these are secular theories, rooted in notions that suggest solutions are wholly secular. I know Christ is the answer to the world and all of its ills. Of this, I have no doubt.

But I take issue with the assertion such theories are “incompatible” with the gospel. As their brother in Christ, as an African American Christian, as a pastor in the Lord’s church, I stand against this assessment, and I strongly disagree with the seminary presidents.

Inconsistency

I am uncertain as to why these men found it necessary even to associate their affirmation of the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message with a rejection of critical race theory. One would expect, with their sincere rejection of racism, they would speak to instances of it in our culture. They would stand against our president’s attempts to maintain the names of Confederate generals on monuments and military bases.

One would expect they would stand against the rise of anti-Semitism and racism seen in groups like the Proud Boys. They would stand against police violence against Black bodies and stand in solidarity with the Black community. They would call the names of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery. But they have not done that.

Their stand against racism rings hollow when in their next breath they reject theories that have been helpful in framing the problem of racism.

Are these systems spiritual and on par with the biblical text? Absolutely not. But can one secular theory helpful in human flourishing be named that is not also equally lacking? One could look at economic theories, social theories, etc. Enlightenment conceptions have been upheld, despite having no root in the Bible, because they still offer us some value.

Hesitancy

And yet, in this time, these men chose to castigate a framework that points out a truth that cannot be denied. American history has been tainted with racism. America codified it. And more, our public and private institutions propagated it.

Even in a time when laws were passed in this country to overturn the legalization of racism, America truly did not atone for it. No steps were taken, not in the 1870s nor the 1970s, to say to Black people America was sorry. No recompense was given to the formerly enslaved, their immediate descendants, or to the victims of Jim Crowism. No apologies, no recognition of harm, nothing.

It was not until the 1990s that the SBC apologized for the wrong done. The House of Representatives did so in 2008.

In all this time, do you believe, with this rampant resistance to repentance, that somehow things automatically were better? Yes, voting rights were given and Civil Rights were established. Yes, redlining was disrupted. Social moods shifted slightly. But repentance still was lacking. There still was a lack of acknowledgment of the harms done.

As Christian ministers and theologians, these six men are aware that when there is no repentance—especially for such a long time—worse things can happen (Matthew 12:43-45). The Bible requires wrongs to be righted.

No real, sustained and meaningful attempt to right the wrongs of the past ever has been made in this country with God’s Black children. So, when social theorists find in this country a racist undercurrent, they do not see it for nothing.

As Christians, we know what they do not, that sin has been reigning and has obfuscated our vision to obey the second great commandment. We cannot love our neighbors as ourselves because we, like the lawyer, are asking smugly, “Who is my neighbor?” In this country, for many years, Black people have not been neighbors. Therefore, love, respect and acceptance have not been necessary.

Equality

As it pertains to the gospel, we believe Christ has died for our sins, was buried and was bodily raised on the third day. He lives forevermore. Thus, he reigns over all things in heaven and on earth. He now sits at the right hand of God. He will come back to judge the living and the dead in righteousness (Acts 17:31). And only through him can one attain unto eternal life.

How is this truth at all diminished by anything claimed in critical race theory or intersectionality?

Theorists within both frameworks, we can be assured, deny various aspects of the truth of the gospel, but so did Thomas Jefferson. He was an Epicurean. And yet, SBC seminary presidents all boldly proclaim “all men are created equal.” They say it because it is true; it aligns with the fact that Jesus as Lord reigns over a creation made in the image of God.

But you cannot, at the same time, condemn systems of thought like critical race theory and intersectionality for enlightening us to the realities of wrongs done to tarnish the imago Dei.

If Jesus reigns in righteousness and Jefferson, though a denier of the faith, made statements in agreement with that righteousness, then we are justified to repeat him. Jefferson’s claims were in response to injustices done to the colonists in the context of an imperial framework.

What difference is there in pointing out the flaws of the American system that have for most of its existence and most of the 20th century justified injustice towards people of color?

Determinacy

My dear brothers’ bias is apparent to all of us. Instead of reaching out to fellow brothers and sisters who have lived with the reality of racism in formulating their view, these six men took it upon themselves to dictate how we should think about racism.

Saying they condemn all racism makes them, in effect, no different than the Supreme Court that ruled in Plessy v. Ferguson that all are equal while still being separate. You cannot claim to uphold equality without attacking the very systems undermining it. The Supreme Court also thought they believed in fairness and justice.

A general condemnation of racism is insufficient in a time when there are specific instances of it that go unaddressed. These men have covered their eyes and ears from seeing the faces and hearing the voices of those who know the truth of it. And thus, these men have given away their authority to speak on these matters.

I am their colleague and a member of the Southern Baptist family. While spending many years in affiliation with and in service of Baylor University, I still have maintained a strong connection to the SBC. I even recently returned to Southwestern to pursue a Ph.D. because of my desire to see Southwestern expand and return to its former state.

When I came back “home” to Southwestern, I even encouraged other ministers to do the same. I took President Adam Greenway’s invitation to return as a statement of good faith, that the seminary wanted to welcome me and many other Black ministers to contribute to its legacy.

The statement on critical race theory and intersectionality has soiled that good faith. I cannot maintain my affiliation any longer and therefore am withdrawing from Southwestern Seminary. Nor will I associate with the SBC any longer.

In the future, my primary seminary affiliation will be with Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary. There, I have been an affiliated faculty member since 2008.

Truett Seminary courageously continues to diversify. Truett boldly engages with the crucial issues concerning students and faculty of color in their community. This is what the body of Christ needs right now.

What the SBC seminary presidents have done has brought division and confusion to the body of Christ. They must repent and seek reconciliation with those who can properly inform them of the wrong they have done. They must ask the Lord to open their hearts to hear the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ and how Jesus’ reign truly should impact our society.

Rev. Dr. Ralph D. West is the founder and pastor of The Church Without Walls in Houston. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

The season of Advent and the Gospel of Mark often do not find an enthusiastic reception in Baptist churches. Advent—and the rest of the traditional church calendar—sometimes is seen as a “Catholic thing.” And Mark historically has been the least popular of the four Gospels across the entire church.

But both Advent and Mark’s Gospel are quite relevant for all Christians today, especially this year in the time of a pandemic.

Introduction to Advent and to Mark

Many Baptists are largely unfamiliar with Advent. Anglican Compass helpfully summarizes: “Advent is the beginning of the Church Year. It is a time of anticipation, a time of preparation, and a time of remembrance. Advent and Christmas are often confused. The confusion arises because most North Americans begin celebrating Christmas before it arrives.”

Unlike Christmas, Advent is somber and subdued in tone. The Old Testament prophets and John the Baptist figure prominently in the Scripture readings used for Advent, as they are the primary voices that anticipate the coming of the Messiah, Jesus Christ.

The Gospel of Mark includes both Old Testament prophets and John in a very brief prologue. This type of brevity characterizes Mark’s Gospel and explains Mark’s historic neglect. Why focus on Mark when you have much longer accounts of Jesus in Matthew, Luke and John?

But Mark’s brevity is key to his message. Unlike the other three Gospels, which take their sweet time telling the story of Jesus, Mark is intense and fast-paced. The Greek word translated as “immediately” (eutheōs) has 51 appearances in the New Testament, and 41 of those are in Mark alone. Mark writes with a sense of great urgency, very appropriate for 2020.

“Prepare the way of the Lord”

After providing a brief “heading” for his Gospel in verse one, Mark launches his narrative (1:2-3) with a citation of two Old Testament prophets—Malachi 3:1 and Isaiah 40:3. Mark connects these two texts. Malachi predicts a coming “messenger” who will prepare the people of God for God’s coming. Isaiah 40:3 announces a coming “road” in the desert for God.

The combination of these prophecies foretells a messenger who will arise in the wilderness and prepare the way for God, who himself will come on this desert highway set up by the messenger. At this point in Mark’s narrative, the identity of this messenger is unclear. Will it be Jesus?

No, this messenger is not Jesus. Rather, this messenger is John the Baptist (1:4). With no background information given, John simply “appears” in the wilderness, seemingly from nowhere. He preaches “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,” which prompts “all the country of Judea … and all the people of Jerusalem” to come be baptized by him in the Jordan River (1:4-5 NASB).

John’s baptism has no clear precedent in Jewish practices of his day. While Gentiles seeking conversion to Judaism would be baptized, and Jews who had been rendered ceremonially unclean would ritually wash themselves, Jews had no practice of letting another person give them “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Something new is afoot.

“One is coming who is mightier than I”

As exciting and unexpected as John’s appearance may be, his ministry of preaching and baptism is not an end in itself. Rather, John has come as the forerunner of another, greater figure.

John says: “After me one is coming who is mightier than I, and I am not fit to bend down and untie the straps of his sandals. I baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (1:7-8).

John’s purpose is to point to another figure, to prepare the way for the Lord himself. Bending down and untying the straps of another person’s sandals was considered a humiliating task, reserved only for the lowest of slaves. John uses this imagery to emphasize just how much greater this coming figure is.

But John’s remark about baptism of the Holy Spirit emphasizes the coming figure’s superiority even more. In the Pillar New Testament Commentary on Mark, James Edwards writes, “That is an extraordinary declaration, for in the (Old Testament) the bestowal of the Spirit belongs exclusively to God” (33).

While Mark never comes right out and states it quite this bluntly, he uses various hints and implications to indicate Jesus, the figure for whom John serves as forerunner, is none other than the incarnate God himself. Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah, also is the embodiment of Israel’s God.

Mark 1:1-8 and Advent

In eight short verses, Mark has set up an incredible sense of anticipation for the coming of Jesus Christ. And when Jesus arrives on the scene in the next verse, he “immediately” (eutheōs) sets to work.

Mark may not give us nearly the level of detail we find in the other three Gospels, but his unique depiction of the days immediately prior to Christ’s coming is very fitting for Advent this year. The pandemic, combined with horrendous examples of racial injustice and with political turmoil, has left me feeling like the prophet Isaiah, crying out to God, “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down” (64:1).

Mark writes with a sense of urgency and crisis that resonates deeply with the time in which we live. The chaos and devastation of 2020 has torn away illusions of prosperity and peace, exposing the depth of our need for Christ and his salvation.

Advent is not only about the first coming of Christ; Advent connects anticipation for Christ’s first coming with anticipation for Christ’s second coming. I imagine many Christians this year are shaking with anticipation for Jesus Christ’s deliverance from sin and death. I would encourage us to read and meditate upon Mark 1:1-8 as we wait for the coming of our Lord.

Joshua Sharp is a writer and Bible teacher living in Waco. He holds a Master of Divinity degree from Truett Theological Seminary. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

Baptists Preaching is a column from the Baptist Standard. It is not an effort to advance any one theology or style but to present what a collection of Baptists considers a word from God. Likewise, Baptists Preaching offers a repository of Baptist preaching for future study and research. To recommend a sermon to be featured in Baptists Preaching, please contact eric.black@baptiststandard.com.

Zach Tharp: To Samaria and Beyond! (Acts 8:4-25)

Zach Tharp, pastor of First Baptist Church in Alice, Texas, points to what Christians can learn from Philip’s experience in Samaria. Persecuted Christians scattered from Jerusalem into surrounding areas, taking the good news about Jesus with them. In Samaria, Philip’s words and actions pointed to Christ and brought “much rejoicing in that city.” Not all words and deeds are from God; therefore, Christians must be able to recognize false teachers, who point to themselves.

The gospel has power to change hearts and lives, and it must be proclaimed. Tharp challenges his hearers to be available for God to speak and act the gospel through so others can hear it. He concludes by explaining that the Holy Spirit is a gift who cannot be bought.

This sermon was delivered on Sept. 13, 2020, for the morning worship service of First Baptist Church in Alice as part of a series on the Book of Acts.

“I believe the Lord led us to study Acts, because 2020 has been the year of trying to answer the question, ‘What do we do now?’” Tharp said.

Zach Tharp’s sermon script is available here.