Six years seems like forever. Six years seems like yesterday. There is no timetable for grief.

Our family is coming up on six years since we suddenly lost my mom. I was not acquainted with grief. I didn’t know how to grieve.

That may sound crazy coming from someone who led a church, preached sermons at funerals, and walked with congregants through their grief. I did the best I could with concepts I learned from seminary and books, but I did not have the personal experience. I was like Job’s friends speaking words I thought were meaningful instead of just sitting and grieving, too.

That all changed the night of Oct. 15, 2013.

The questions of grief

In the last six years, I have picked up the phone countless times to call. I have forgotten she is gone. It’s easy to do when you live five hours away. I can disconnect from the reality of her absence. I have become adept at burying grief, but it always comes back.

We finally began to go through her things in the last few months. The dust collected on the pictures reminded me she is not there. The tarnish on the silver that hasn’t been cleaned since she left reminded me of the things she left behind, including us. The boxes her things are collected in represented the things she held on to and loved, what mattered to her but are not her.

There are still moments when I wonder why. Why could she not live one more year and at least see her granddaughter born? Why is she not here to celebrate with us? Why do others waste the time they have been given while I have no more time? In the beginning, I wanted answers. I demanded answers.

I have no answers. That’s the biggest lesson grief has taught me. We don’t have every answer. We don’t know why certain things happen. We won’t know what God is up to all of the time.

Before grief, I had verses to quote; now, I have hugs to give. Before grief, I was ready with platitudes; now, I am ready with presence. Before grief, I wondered inwardly why they couldn’t have faith; now, I have compassion because sometimes it is hard to believe. Before grief, I thought time made things easier; now, I have learned grief comes and goes, and there is no way to know when it will overwhelm.

Shadows and light

Last time I was home, riding the backroads of Northeast Texas to the cemetery where Mom is buried, passing through the shadows of the overhanging trees and into the light of the late morning, around every curve God reminded me this is the journey of life in a broken world.

The shadows—what Psalm 23 calls the valley of the shadow of death—seem so dark. In those moments, we can’t see where we are going. Our eyes haven’t adjusted, and we cling to whatever we can find to help us take the next step. It is easy to be overwhelmed by this darkness.

But the light always comes, the morning always dawns, the Good Shepherd leads us to green pastures. The glory of the light might blind us initially, but the beauty soon comes into focus.

I still don’t feel like I have it all together. The waves of emotion and loss still flood my heart. Grief is still hard.

I don’t have all the answers, but I trust the light of God’s love, his presence, and the hope of his promises. I trust him because of Jesus, the light of the world shining brightly in the darkness all around.

To those of you walking through grief, keep going. We are in this together. To those of you ministering to those in grief, give freedom for questions and emotions, and make sure we know you love us and are with us.

We will all walk through the darkness of grief. May God grant us eyes to see the light of his love and grace bursting through the shadows of grief around every curve.

Zac Harrel is pastor of First Baptist Church in Gustine, Texas. The views expressed here are solely those of the author.

On Wednesday, Oct. 2, 2019, an 18-year-old young man allowed the Holy Spirit to use him and demonstrate through him a level of mercy and grace often shown to average human beings on a daily basis by an all-loving God.

Many were baffled by the measure of humility and sincerity shown by a young man who had lost his “Big Brother” Botham Jean by the tragic actions of former Dallas police officer Amber Guyger.

By now, the story has been told over and over again, how this innocent young man was killed in his own apartment while sitting on his sofa eating ice cream.

Brandt Jean, the younger brother, shocked the world, the nation and the judge when he sat on the witness stand during the victim impact statements and offered convicted murderer Amber Guyger the opportunity to receive Christ as her Lord and Savior, along with verbalizing his desire that no harm comes to her.

Then to the surprise of onlookers, he sought permission to embrace the convicted murderer with a hug. He whispered words of encouragement in her ear.

In addition, Judge Tammy Kemp presented Guyger with a Bible and turned it to John 3:16.

Why is this so remarkable?

One answer is because forgiveness and mercy are two inseparable graces that have all but vanished in our present negative, profane and perverted postmodern society.

While I applaud this outward display of forgiveness and forbearance, I pray the universal body of Christ takes notice.

Let us take notice that in the midst of this divisive environment and cultural climate, God’s love, grace and mercy are ever-present. Let Brandt Jean’s and Judge Kemp’s gestures not be lost on the Christian community.

So many of us were so shocked because it was the last thing on our mind. Many have become infected by the pestilence of prejudice and political partisanship clouding our judgment.

While some are angry with the outcome of the case, angry with the jury’s decision regarding the jail sentence, and some even are angry that the case went to trial in the first place, all need to pause and look in the mirror and access the person looking back at you.

Why is this so remarkable?

It is remarkable because for Christians, Brandt Jean’s response should be the universal response of all Christian believers, and it is not.

Due to our experiences with the secular powers that be, we will see this differently through our cultural lenses.

May the day come when the Christian community will see these tragedies and triumphs through the lenses of faith.

May the day come when justice has the same definition for all.

May the day come when all people deeply feel there is no need to terrorize, hate or discriminate.

Let it not be lost

Let it not be lost on those who applaud Brandt’s actions as thoughtful and kind that many people of color have a hard time sympathizing.

A not so silent group of men and women of color gasped when they saw the bailiff stroking the convicted murderer’s hair and the judge offering a warm embrace after sentencing. That is a glimpse of God’s mercy on display.

Unfortunately, criminal justice data reveals a different reality for many people of color.

The prayer is the day will come when all people will be able to relate and celebrate good’s triumph over evil. Unfortunately, that day has not arrived. The body of Christ is obligated to do better and to usher in that new day.

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 solely those of the author.

Another response to Brandt Jean’s victim impact statement can be read here.

teacher—one who causes another to know, who guides, who imparts

Jesus was called Teacher. The writer of Ecclesiastes was called Teacher. To be among such as these is a high calling indeed.

The great difference, however, between the Master Teacher—Jesus Christ—and all others makes this sacred trust a heavy calling, as well.

To those of you given this calling, we bless you.

Blessings on all you give above and beyond

Just this week, after what some mistakenly think is your extended vacation, you welcomed students back into the classroom for another school year. Before your students arrived, you prepared yourself and your classrooms.

You thought about your students all summer long, wondering how those from last year were doing and wondering what your new students would be like. You started work on your classrooms well before mid-August. You started your workdays before sunup and finished after sundown for days on end.

Some of your students can’t afford school supplies. You make sure they have them, even if it means you use your own money, and you don’t say anything about how that eats into your limited funds.

Some of your students can’t afford clothes that fit. Without embarrassing them, you find clothes for them, maybe even using some of what you have left after you’ve bought school supplies.

We bless you.

Blessings on all you know about your community

You know our communities better than we do. You know what the adults in our communities think, feel and do because you hear it from and see it in your students. That is a lot to know, and as hard as it can be, you hold what you know graciously.

The good stuff about our communities is not much trouble to carry. We all celebrate that. But you also know the ugly and hidden stuff about our communities. In the places where the community is hopeless, you shine hope by continuing to teach our children day in and day out. In so doing, you live the hope that things can be better.

We bless you.

Blessings on all you hold in one classroom

You see it all: the hungry child, the spoiled child, the confident and assured child, the abused and crushed child, the calm and easy child, the difficult and challenging child. You see the athletic, the popular and the cool; you see the invisible, the different, the anxious and lonely. You see them all, and sometimes you wonder if we see you.

You pour yourself into children and watch the news like the rest of us. You wonder what will become of those you spend hours, days, weeks and years with, teaching, training, shaping and loving.

They may grow up to hurt us, haunt us, help us or heal us. You don’t know what they will become, and yet you love them still. You care for them the same, and you give yourself to them the same.

We bless you.

Blessings on all you receive

You do all of this while receiving much less pay than many of your students’ parents. You do this sometimes receiving a little bit more than some of the students’ families, which is a different burden. When you have the strength to take it all in stride, it’s because teaching is your calling.

It’s easy for a calling to become a career, a joy to become a job. The world has a way of diminishing our souls that way. You deserve better than that from us.

Those of us who see you are in awe of you. We bless you to spread your wings and soar on the rising winds of your calling and joy.

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.

“Purify your hearts, you double-minded” (James 1:8).

The U.S. government recently announced an expansion of an existing rule which would deny green cards—permanent residency in the United States and a path to citizenship—to immigrants who make use of government-funded social programs, such as food assistance and Medicaid.

In other words, as some headlines report it, the new policy will “favor wealthy” immigrants.

My personal bias

I will admit freely to having trouble being unbiased about this change. I am biased because I know too many immigrants who once were on social programs and then worked their way into independent incomes. I know too many children, born here in the United States, whose immigrant parents depend on such programs to help feed and care for them and who came to this country specifically to provide a better future for their children. I know them from my hometown in East Texas, from the church I pastor in Mesquite, and from the churches we partner with in the colonias of South Texas.

Considering the facts

The justification for this policy change is that it will prevent immigrants from becoming a drain on government resources. This justification ignores the facts that the average stay of a family on social programs is 8-10 months and that immigrants provide a net economic gain over the long run.

This change is short-sighted, poorly justified, and, as Olivia Golden, an advocate for low-income people put it: “The proposal at its core says that work and family don’t matter; wealth and income are what matters.”

Beware of double-mindedness

The United States, as a sovereign nation, certainly has the right to determine by law and policy who is worthy of becoming a citizen.

But beware of double-mindedness.

We like to tell certain stories about ourselves as Americans. We say we are founded on Christian principles and should be governed by Christian principles. We say we are a land of opportunity. We symbolize it with a large statue in New York Harbor bearing an inspiring inscription inviting the exile, the poor and the homeless to join us in freedom.

In reality, however, we prefer independently wealthy people to be our neighbors, our co-workers and our children’s classmates.

Which makes us double-minded.

A Christian response

What would be your attitude if your pastor stood up this Sunday and said the church would not accept as a member anyone on government social programs? It would rankle most of us, though some would be pleased.

We know we are not to show partiality in the body (James 2:2-5). As believers, we instinctively should feel that wealth is a very dubious measure of someone’s worth. We should all have some notion of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s caution in Life Together: “Every Christian community must realize that not only do the weak need the strong, but also that the strong cannot exist without the weak. The elimination of the weak is the death of fellowship.”

Comparing the United States and the kingdom of God

Is the United States greater than the kingdom of God? The kingdom of God makes no distinction of citizenship based on wealth. In fact, Jesus said the greater the wealth the harder it is to get in.

The United States has the right by law and policy to limit its incoming citizens to the wealthy, but it cannot then claim to be governed by Christian principles. It cannot claim to be a land of opportunity for the tired, poor, wretched refuse, homeless.

What to do with the Statue of Liberty

As for what to do with the statue in the harbor? I have two suggestions.

Option 1: Leave it as is, but replace Emma Lazarus’ inspiring words with words more in the spirit of our laws and policies, such as the lyrics from Barrett Strong’s 1976 hit “Money (That’s What I Want).”

Option 2: Tear the thing down and replace it with a much larger version of the Wall Street Bull. And make it out of gold. Bronze just looks cheap.

Patrick Adair is the pastor of The Crossings Baptist Church in Mesquite, Texas. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

EDITOR’S NOTE: For an interview in which Ken Cuccinelli explains the new rule to NPR Host Rachel Martin, click here.

“Let’s talk politics and religion.” For many, this suggestion sounds the same as, “Let’s give each other 100 paper cuts.”

When these topics emerge in conversations, many instantly go into flight, fight or freeze mode. “How about them Cowboys,” is a classic example of flight.

Discussing politics combined with faith can be highly personal and immensely explosive. In our society today, we seemingly lack the ability to discuss the complexities of politics and religion unless we agree with everyone around us and just bash “the other side” together.

Discussions with others who differ from our views often don’t go well, including among Christians who disagree with each other. In the past few years, Christian leaders have referred to fellow Christians with whom they disagree politically as “spineless morons”—in the case of Robert Jeffress speaking of NeverTrump evangelicals—and as “theocrats”—in the case of Jim Wallis, in God’s Politicswhen he included Christian Fundamentalists with Al Qaeda and the Taliban. This type of incivility on all sides has detrimental effects on Christian witness.

Effects of Christian incivility

According to the research found in David Kinnamon’s UnChristian, non-Christians associate Christians with terms like “hypocritical,” “insensitive” and “judgmental.” These descriptions are opposite of how we should be known.

Why have Christians abandoned Christ-likeness for gutter politics? Perhaps we’ve abandoned understanding opposing points of view to embrace “fighting back.” Perhaps we’ve abandoned humility and embraced “owning the other side.”

Or maybe we’ve abandoned moral leadership for transactional politics and political gain. Maybe we’ve abandoned the eternal values of the gospel for temporary political expediency at any cost. And in the process, we’ve ceased practicing civility in our engagements with the culture in order to “win the argument.”

We must return to civility.

Returning to civility

Our witness as Christians is harmed when we are not civil.

Civility doesn’t require that we always agree. Christians can and will have different political viewpoints. So often, though, we convince ourselves that “true Christians” must hold a certain political view.

Our tribalism leads to harsh rhetoric and attitudes that do nothing to further the kingdom of God. However, no biblical mandate exists requiring Christians to agree politically. And no political party holds a monopoly on political positions.

We shouldn’t apologize for disagreeing politically but should seek to understand or humbly to persuade others while also examining our own motivations and biases.

The political issues we face are quite complex. We may try to approach each issue with a right or wrong position, but when examined, we find there is quite a bit of gray in each issue.

In his book, Love Your Enemies, Arthur Brooks stresses we should not agree more or disagree less but should disagree better by “engaging in earnest debate while still treating everyone with love and respect.”

The tension of civility

Because disagreeing better can be hard, we often are tempted to avoid controversial topics altogether. But that’s not civility. That’s abandoning our calling to be salt and light in the world.

The absence of tension or disagreement does not mean we are practicing civility. In fact, our silence on issues may lead to further incivility and injustice to those most affected by our silence

Concerning abandonment of political involvement, Jon Meacham, in The Soul of America, wrote, “Those who disdain the arena are unilaterally disarming themselves in the great contests of the soul … To believe something creates an obligation to make that belief known and to act upon it within the arena.”

We must remain engaged as selfless, servant leaders seeking to promote the common good of humanity.

Three civil values

The prophet Micah shares three values God requires of us: justice, mercy and humility.

Do we see these values in our political discussions today? Not just on cable news, but in our interactions with others, do our conversations emphasize justice, mercy and humility?

Or have we solidified our views—even if those views are proven to be misinformed—and refuse to listen to others, thereby revealing arrogance, selfishness and hypocrisy?

Our responsibility to be civil

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “True peace is not merely the absence of tension, it is the presence of justice.”

In order to “do justly,” we will experience tension outwardly and inwardly. This tension is a good thing and not something to avoid.

We shouldn’t cover our eyes or ignore situations because we fear disagreements. Our silence in the face of injustice isn’t civil, but is an example of not loving our neighbor.

In his final message before he was assassinated, Dr. King shared his take on the Good Samaritan. Discussing the difference between the priest, the Levite and the Samaritan as they each pondered just what was their responsibility to the man on the side of the road, Dr. King said: “And so the first question that the priest asked, the first question that the Levite asked was, ‘If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?’ But then the Good Samaritan came by, and he reversed the question: ‘If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?’”

As Christians, we don’t have the option to avoid political disagreements in order to avoid discomfort. We have the responsibility to speak out for justice and mercy with humility.

Civility requires that we learn how to communicate, reflect and listen in uncomfortable situations, not avoid them altogether.

As Christians, we need to lead the way in practicing civility as we respond to Dr. King’s question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”

Jack Goodyear is the dean of the Cook School of Leadership and professor of political science at Dallas Baptist University. The views expressed are those solely of the author.

Do you remember how the Mary Poppins movies begin? Everything is going along as usual, and then the wind picks up, and it’s pretty clear that something different is about to take place. Well, that’s somewhat the way life is at our Texas Baptists offices right now. The winds of change are blowing through our staff.

Last fall, after 40 years of wonderful service, Bruce McGowan retired as state director of the Baptist Student Ministry. Fortunately, God had prepared Mark Jones to step into that role, and he is now serving us all so well.

Earlier this year, my dear friend Delvin Atchison left his position as director of the Great Commission Team to return to the local church as pastor of the wonderful Westside Baptist Church in Lewisville. I am grateful for his obedience to the Lord and his love for Texas Baptists and the church.

Back in May at our Executive Board meeting, our faithful and loyal servant, Dr. Steve Vernon, announced his retirement after many years as a BGCT pastor and the past 11 as associate executive director. I have so enjoyed the privilege of serving alongside Steve. He became much more than a colleague but a trusted friend and adviser. He and Donna will enjoy living in Central Texas when his service days conclude at the end of this year. Steve: Finish Strong!

A couple of years ago, our CFO Jill Larsen began to sense God leading her in a new direction but was unsure what that might be or where. She continued to work and pray for God’s leading. The Lord has brought to her a very unique opportunity to take on the challenging assignment of CFO of VisitDallas. She starts there on August 5. You will join me in wishing her well and know she’ll be a positive Christian witness in her new workplace. Please come join us for a “send-off” reception on Monday, July 29 at 2 p.m. in our Texas Baptists offices.

As the days move ahead, we will seek the right people to come on board and fill these roles and, perhaps, others. Thank you for praying for us during this season of change. We have been so blessed, and the Lord will continue to bless as we seek his will and way. God bless you all.

David Hardage is the executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas. The BGCT and Baptist Standard are independently related partners.

American incarcerations have been rising for decades and show no sign of slowing. Of all industrialized nations, the United States incarcerates more of its own citizens per capita than any other nation in the world. Though incarceration rates have fallen, according to the most recent Department of Justice report, America still locks up more of its population than any other country that releases these statistics.

Defining crime in the Dallas legal system

Recently, the district attorney in Dallas has fallen under scrutiny for his approach to this problem by proposing—in addition to other things—that the city no will longer prosecute theft of personal items under $750. Dallas County District Attorney John Cruezot’s approach on other things—such as eliminating some kinds of cash bail—are in line not only with recent Supreme Court rulings but also with a desire to decriminalize poverty.

Those in poverty who are arrested are unable to make bail under the cash bail system, meaning they languish behind bars for minor offenses, losing their jobs and becoming delinquent on bills as a result. Those with resources are able to get out and continue their lives, while those without financial means remain locked up for the same offense.

By deciding not to “prosecute theft of personal items worth less than $750 unless the theft was for financial gain,” the Dallas County district attorney was chastised by Texas Governor Greg Abbott, who proclaimed it now would be open season in Dallas and that this position by the district attorney made the laws meaningless.

However, both on the basis of Scripture and theological tradition, District Attorney Cruezot actually is on good ground.

Defining crime in the Ten Commandments

When we turn to the Ten Commandments, the command not to steal jumps out as an obvious objection to the district attorney’s approach. How can it be that Christians can support such a proposal? The reason lies in the distinction made between theft of personal items and theft for personal gain.

As the commandment about theft is described throughout the Old Testament, it becomes clear what is at stake in this commandment is not an absolute right to property, but rather that if a person is stolen from, it is a violation of the backbone assumption of the community: everyone has enough already.

In other words, the people of God were forbidden to steal because in doing so, they deprived someone of things needed to sustain their lives. When you steal a person’s clothes or animals, you are not simply stealing some excessive things, but their means of working and living (Exodus 22:7-9).

Defining crime in the whole Bible

This is not to say some kind of restitution doesn’t need to be made. In both the Old and New Testaments, the good of the community far outweighs our things, and our things are to be used for the sake of God’s kingdom. Therefore, when theft occurs, it is a breach of trust in the community which needs to be repaired.

For the Christian, the loss of goods always is to be viewed in light of God’s redemptive work in the world. Our losses may be repaid to us tenfold—but our possession of goods always has, for the Christian, the good of the neighbor in view.

But the assumption in both Testaments is in God’s kingdom, the things a person needs to survive—food, clothing, personal goods—already are provided and in abundant supply. In Israel, generous laws existed for the provision of the poor. Every 70 years, things lost over previous generations were to be restored to their original owners so that all had what they needed to be full participants in the work of God.

If a person had to steal to meet their needs, such theft was a sign—above all—that something was desperately rotten in his or her society. For if we truly live in a society where everyone’s needs are met, then theft of food, clothing, and necessities, presumably would not occur.

Defining crime in the Christian community

Beyond the Scriptures, Christian commentators through various ages and places continued to affirm this principle: Stealing what was needed to survive was not theft, but a sign something was deeply wrong in that society.

Thomas Aquinas—the most important theologian of the Middle Ages, John Calvin, Martin Luther, John Chrysostom and many others understood theft this way. What appears to us as a deep violation, an unthinkable thought, appeared to earlier ages as something we should pay attention to.

The distinction District Attorney Cruezot brings up is an important one: Stealing for survival is not the same as stealing for pleasure or personal gain. Stealing food and clothing, while wrong, ultimately is a sign that something far deeper is foul. It is a sign we have constructed a world that cannot think of existing in any other way than for some people not to have what they need except by stealing it.

Defining crime as judgment

For Christians, this is a challenging legacy: Some theft is, far from being criminal, actually a judgment on the society in which it happens.

If the kingdom of God were among us as Jesus intended, the proverbial twelve baskets would be left over from which anyone is invited to eat.

Outposts of the kingdom of God in the form of benevolence offerings and food pantries are the first step here, but it is not enough for Christians simply to be benevolent. Rather, following our Lord—who himself proclaimed freedom to the captives, sight to the blind and good news to the poor—we must ask, not what to do with those who have stolen necessities, but: Why do we live in a society where stealing necessities is the way some people have to find their daily bread?

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.

Kenneth Osbeck, in 101 Hymn Stories, tells the story of Robert Robinson, who wrote “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.”

Robinson was a barbering apprentice in London “associated with a notorious gang of hoodlums and lived a debauched life.” At age 17, he attended a meeting with his friends to mock the Methodist church where George Whitfield—popular for his pronunciation of “Mesopotamia”—was preaching. Robinson was so compelled by Whitfield’s preaching, he accepted Christ.

Years later, he felt a call to the ministry and joined the Methodist church as a pastor. When he moved to Cambridge, he became a Baptist pastor and began writing theological works and hymns.

At age 23, Robinson wrote one of the most popular hymns of the church. Sections of this hymn have been quoted in sermons and baptisms, weddings and funerals. In fact, this is one of the songs I want sung at my funeral.

‘O to grace how great a debtor’

A focal stanza for me is the last:

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy grace, Lord, like a fetter,
Bind my wand’ring heart to Thee:
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above. (Baptist Hymnal, 1991)

This song embodies the gospel message in a song!

The truth about us all is that we tend to wander from the loving arms of God. We know the love of God. We can recognize it in creation and throughout our lives; yet, something always pulls us away.

So, Robinson hands his heart to God and says: “Here’s my heart … seal it for [your] courts.” Isn’t that powerful?

Though we will not stop wandering because we can’t, we ask God to please attach us to God.

‘Let Thy grace, Lord, like a fetter’

In response to his wandering, Robinson wrote: “Let Thy grace, Lord, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee.”

Merriam-Webster defines ‘fetter’ as “a chain or shackle for the feet.” To say, “Like a fetter, bind my heart” is like saying, “Lord chain me up to you because I have this tendency to leave you, but I don’t want to.”

I am reminded of the thieves crucified with Jesus. One thief mocked and ridiculed Jesus, while the other thief was so full of remorse that he told the other thief to stop and asked Jesus to remember him. He did not demand that Jesus get him off the cross. He knew he had wandered from God. Instead, he asked Jesus to bind his heart to him and not forget who he was!

Jesus did even more than that, however. Jesus responded, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43).

‘Jesus sought me when a stranger’

What is the gospel but a Triune God fighting to get us back? Luke 15 depicts this Triune God leaving the 99 sheep to find the one lost sheep, tearing up her whole house to find the one lost coin, and running to his lost son when he returned from his wandering.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in a dark place, beyond what can be found, scared and alone. In those moments, I say: “Lord, bind my wandering heart to you. Shackle me to you.”

Another picture is an astronaut going for a spacewalk and remaining tethered to the ship. Even if the astronaut wanders off or floats beyond being able to grab something, he or she still will be connected to the ship and won’t be lost.

A friend suggested that rather than being bound to God with something like shackles and chains, we are bound to God by more of an umbilical cord. What an image! Like an umbilical cord provides a fetus with breath, nutrients and life, we are attached to God. This is what it is to be bound to God. This is what it is to have such a deep relationship with God that we are bound to the Lord in a nutrient-rich relationship full of breath and life.

A prayer for guidance

“O heavenly Father, in whom we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray thee so to guide and govern us by thy Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget thee, but may remember that we are ever walking in thy sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” — Anonymous, beliefnet.com

Jaci Garrett is a junior at Howard Payne University and is the interim pastor at Sidney Baptist Church in Sydney, Texas.

There are hills to die on, hills to bleed on and hills to keep walking over, the popular leadership maxim goes. For historic Baptists, religious liberty has been a hill to bleed and even die on.

Baptists began as a persecuted minority more than 400 years ago and have suffered the consequences: shunned from society, rotting in prisons or being put to death. Baptists know first-hand the consequences and cost of religious freedom.

Brent Walker notes that Baptists have experienced the pain of persecution. “From jail cells in England, to stockades in Massachusetts Bay, to whipping posts in Virginia, the historical litany is familiar to our ears.”

Baptists & religious liberty in American history

Leaders like Roger Williams—a Baptist for a season—came from England to Massachusetts Bay for the purpose of religious freedom, advocating for “a hedge or wall of separation between the garden of the church and the wilderness of the world.”

The Baptist John Leland boldly advocated for religious liberty and the separation of church and state. He played a crucial role in convincing our nations’ founders of the need to protect religious freedom through the Bill of Rights.

Other Baptists from Obadiah Holmes to Henry Dunster and Isaac Backus to the Danbury Baptist Association serve as a cloud of witnesses for advancing the cause of religious freedom.

Founding Father James Madison wrote in 1819, “The number, industry and morality of the priesthood, and the devotion of the people have been manifestly increased by the total separation of church and state.”

Religious liberty in Baptists’ reading of the Bible

Arguably, Baptists’ greatest contribution to Protestantism has been the principle of religious liberty.

Religious liberty flows naturally from our biblical understanding of human nature and how humans relate to God. Though the Bible does not explicitly delineate a doctrine of the separation of church and state, the seeds are present.

The history of Israel illustrated a God-given freedom to choose as the Israelites wavered between faithfulness to God and disobedience.

Jesus came to set the captive and persecuted free. Jesus said his kingdom is not a kingdom of this world (John 18:36). Jesus taught some things belonged to the emperor, and some things belong to God (Matthew 22:21).

Jesus never received a coin from Caesar or sought the approval of Herod in his ministry and mission. Jesus did not need government bureaucrats doing his work with the sword of the state behind them. Nor do we.

To be authentic, faith must be free. For faith to be free, government must keep out. Faith must be voluntary, and nothing but a voluntary surrender to Christ and voluntary service to him are acceptable.

Religious liberty, a free church & a free state

A free church in a free state moves in both directions. The state should not dominate, control or become entangled with the church, and the church should not take over the state in a way that uses the power of government to proselytize.

However, religious freedom does not necessitate a divorce of religion from politics or excuse Christians from their duties of citizenship. Separation of church and state for the purpose of religious freedom does not necessitate the church lose its moral voice. In fact, a church that is free can have a stronger moral voice.

Brian Zahnd writes in Postcards from Babylon: “When the church colludes with the principalities and powers, it can no longer prophetically challenge them. A church in bed with empire cannot credibly call the empire to repent.”

Russell Moore, president of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention argues: “External conformity, backed up by government power, is easier to achieve than Great Commission gospel advance. It also leads nowhere but to death.”

A church under the authority of the state is a neutered church. As Christians, our first allegiance is not to a flag, a country or a person. Our allegiance is to King Jesus and his kingdom!

The future of religious liberty

According to the Speak Freedom Center, a group that advances religious freedom internationally, 108 countries persecute Christians, 100 countries persecute Muslims, and 81 persecute Jews.

The Pew Research Center found 83 percent of people live in a place with high or very high levels of religious persecution. The world needs Baptists today to bleed and die on the hill of religious liberty.

Looking forward, the ongoing temptation will continue to be aligning the church with the power of the state.

Only one offer for political power is issued in the New Testament, with Satan himself asking for the allegiance of Jesus in exchange for power. Baptists—and other Christians—must refuse Satan’s bait to align ourselves with the kingdoms of this world.

Additionally, we must be careful not to fall into the trap of advocating “religious freedom for me, but not for thee.” Religious freedom is like free speech: If you only support it for people whose views you like, you don’t support it.

Roger Williams, when standing up for the right of an unpopular minority in New England not to christen their babies said such freedom must extend to “the most paganish, Jewish, and Turkish.” Not only is religious freedom for Baptists, but it is for all faiths, including Muslims, Buddhists and those who choose no faith.

Monumental religious liberty issues continue to loom. Whether it’s the right of a baker to follow faith-based convictions, using public money to finance religious schools, teaching sacred texts in the public classroom, or standing up for the rights of oppressed Christians worldwide, the world needs Baptists today to stand tall for freedom of conscience and religion.

In 1820 George W. Truett preached on the Capitol steps words that continue to ring true: “Baptists have one consistent record concerning religious liberty throughout all their long and eventful history. They have never been a party to oppression of conscience. They have forever been unwavering champions of liberty, both religious and civil.”

Religious liberty has been a great gift Baptists have given at the cost of blood, sweat and tears. Who will steward the gift of religious liberty in the decades to come, and how?

John Whitten is lead pastor of the gathering, a minister of Pioneer Drive Baptist Church in Abilene, Texas, and is a member of the Baptist Standard board.

Rev. Tamiko Jones has been the executive director and treasurer for Woman’s Missionary Union of Texas since November 2017. She finds her current role to be rewarding through the many relationships built across Texas, the country and the world.

What do Texas Baptists look like from where you are?

I view Texas Baptists as a tapestry of many races and ethnicities, woven together by our love for Christ.

Understanding that our journeys are unique, I agree with a statement made earlier this year by WMU Executive Director Sandra Wisdom-Martin, “Your view depends upon where you are standing.”

We may not always agree, but we should always seek to understand.

As we pursue God in order to reach our state through missions, it is imperative that we seek to reach people where they are standing.

What Baptist principle means the most to you, and why?

In this season of my life, especially as I serve in missions, I refer often to the priesthood of the believer.

The Baptist emphasis on the importance of every baptized believer of a local church body serving as a minister is a guiding principle for the work of WMU.

Based upon the Great Commission found in Matthew 28:16-20, the mission of WMU of Texas is making disciples of Jesus Christ who are courageously obedient to live on mission.

Each believer is accountable to God for living out the Scriptures. As a ministry, it is our hope to live our lives making disciples who make disciples.

Describe a formative experience that guides your ministry.

As a high school freshman, I experienced the love of God through believers who answered a call to serve.

After a Friday night football game, in which my brother was a star player and I was a member of the drill team, my parents were involved in a tragic car accident returning home from the game. My mother suffered minor injuries; however, my father’s injuries were severe and permanent. Until his death 10 years later, he lived with limited mobility, requiring the use of a wheelchair and assistance from my mother for daily tasks.

For months after the accident, my father remained in a rehabilitation center, and this is when the church became real in my life.

Through the kindness of believers—many of them strangers, I further understood how to live a missional life and that we must serve in missions, not just across the world, but also across the street. Their actions toward my family during our time of physical and spiritual need strengthened my resolve to serve God and others for the rest of my life.

Our local newspaper in Brenham has a section of excerpts from previous editions. Recently, I was reading this section, and I came to an excerpt from 1943 about the new pastor coming to serve at the same church I currently serve, Brenham’s First Baptist. The pastor’s name was N.E. McGuire, and he previously had served 14 years at Emmanuel Baptist in San Angelo.

The excerpt read, “McGuire says he is happy to be in Brenham and will give his best efforts toward serving not only the Baptist congregation, but the entire town, to the best of his ability.”

After reading this, I searched a list I have of previous pastors and noted McGuire served here from 1943 to 1945. Serving a two-year pastorate is not a long time, especially given the fact he previously had been at another church 14 years.

I decided to go online to see what else I might learn about Pastor McGuire. At the time of writing, I have not found anything about him—not even an obituary.

Questions about a forgotten pastor

Not knowing anything about McGuire except the years he served and his initial vision when he arrived in Brenham leaves me with questions:

• Why was he here for only two years?
• While his vision for serving the church and community is wonderful, how did that take shape during his two years here?
• Were his years here filled with mostly joy or disappointment?
• What came of him and his family?

Taking stock of my own pastorate

The odds are I never will know the answers to most of these questions. The reality is N.E. McGuire’s service to Brenham’s First Baptist Church has been forgotten mostly. The fact that a pastor’s service can be forgotten so easily caused me to step back and be reminded of some important and sometimes challenging truths.

A pastor ultimately is called to serve in a way glorifying to God and seeking his affirmation. When pastors base their service on trying to build a platform, win a popularity contest, seeking to be famous, or being remembered, they forget none of these efforts ultimately matter. What matters most is receiving from the Chief Shepherd “the crown of glory that will never fade away” (1 Peter 5:4).

Given enough time, most pastors will not be remembered by anyone except God. While there are pastors remembered throughout history—Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Spurgeon and others—most pastors will not be remembered. Most pastors, if they are fortunate, will have their name and dates of service on a list of pastors for a given church. This can be hard to hear, but it can help pastors maintain perspective about themselves and how they will be remembered.

The church belongs to God. It does not belong to pastors, deacons or members. Pastors, like everyone else in the church, come and go. Therefore, pastors are called to steward—and steward well—what God owns.

Unless the pastor is the first pastor of a church, most pastors inherit the legacy of previous pastors. This looks different in every church, but every pastor who came before left a legacy of some things that were done well and some things that could have been done better. Every pastor, in other words, left the church stronger and weaker in some ways. The same will be true once the current pastor leaves. It is important, therefore, for pastors to look ahead and think about how they will leave the church and what legacy they will leave for their successors.

Ross Shelton is senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Brenham.

I am using your pew as a metaphor, a placeholder for something else. I need you to know that so you can be fully engaged with me from the beginning.

It’s a longstanding tradition among churchgoers to sit in the same place in the sanctuary Sunday after Sunday. If attending church services in an old enough building (or in the new building of a church insisting on tradition), then that place is a specific spot on a specific pew. In newer buildings, that place is some form of chair.

Everything experienced during the worship service comes from the vantage point of that seat: the view of the platform and the preacher; the sound of the music; the surrounding people, who also sit in the same place Sunday after Sunday.

With enough time, worship itself becomes tied to that spot, so much so that if asked or forced to move, the inhabitant may undergo a crisis of faith right there in the middle of the sanctuary.

It’s true. You’ve either seen it or done it. So, laugh with me.

On a recent Sunday, some of our extended family attended worship with us. We arrived a little early, before most of the other worshipers, and took up residence on one of the pews.

Two individuals arrived a few minutes later, one sitting next to me and the other sitting just in front. The person in front turned back to the other and said, “You filled your pew this morning.” The other replied, “They were here when I got here.”

As a pastor, I had my pew. It was the front pew, the one no one else occupied other than the pastor’s family, and not because no one dared take the pastor’s pew but because no one else was about to sit that close to the front. I didn’t have any sense of ownership of that pew. Anyone could sit there, but few rarely did.

As a pastor, I tried to challenge people’s possessiveness of their pews. I tried to help them move past tradition to something else. I didn’t succeed.

Now that I’m one of the rank and file church members, I experience pew possession differently—and I see the problem in a way I didn’t before. Rather than a pew being mine, rather than merely tolerating people who must sit in my pew, I can envision where I sit in a whole new way—and so can you.

So, let’s talk about your pew.

What does it mean to call it your pew?

Is it your pew? Did you pay for that pew? Is your name on it somewhere? Do you hold title to it? If so, we need to talk about what a church building actually is.

If you don’t hold title to the pew, if it is not adorned with a plaque with your name on it, if you simply call it your pew, then why do you use the possessive pronoun to talk about a piece of furniture in the church?

Is your pew yours and yours alone? Do you stare or glare at anyone—friend or stranger—who sits in your pew? Do you give intruders the silent treatment? Do you take a position at the very end and block passage to anyone willing to sit in the middle of the pew?

Do you see your pew as your property or as your responsibility? How are you using your pew?

Are you using your pew for your own benefit and comfort?

Or are you using your pew to draw others to Christ?

Do you go out looking for people to sit with you? Do you stand at the end of your pew before church starts and invite people to sit beside you?

How can you make your pew the most inviting place in the entire sanctuary for people to join you in worship? What would that look like?

Remember, your pew is a metaphor, a placeholder for something else.

Your pew represents your power, personality and possessions. Your pew represents your time, talents and things. Your pew represents all God has given you—which is everything—to be used for God’s glory.

Regardless of how you answer all the questions posed here, one thing remains true. In the end, it’s not your pew.

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard and a former pastor. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com or on Twitter at @EricBlackBSP.