Voices: How to worry well

Numerous passages throughout Scripture instruct us about worry and faith.

For example, consider Philippians 4:6-7, which states: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and pleading with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (NASB).

What a beautiful and comforting passage! However, such texts from Scripture often are not the source of comfort they were intended to be. In fact, passages like Philippians 4:6-7 often serve as a source of guilt and—ironically—anxiety.

How can this be? Many Christians have been led to believe—through misguided sermons and/or their own readings of these texts—that worry and anxiety are sinful. To be stressed is “a sign of weak faith” or even a sign of “unbelief,” as some say.

For Christians who struggle from post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety disorder and other mental illnesses, this difficulty is compounded. Is it really sin, a sign of weak faith or even outright unbelief for a Christian to experience stress and anxiety?

I want to argue it is not necessarily sinful for a Christian to experience stress and anxiety—because Jesus himself did.

A dark night in the garden

The story of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane is about as well known as various Scripture passages about worry and anxiety, but in my experience, most Christians do not see this story as instructive for how to handle stress. To be sure, this story’s primary function is not a lesson on worry, but I believe it still is deeply instructive for us.

The story of Jesus in the garden appears in Matthew 26, Mark 14 and Luke 22. After the Last Supper, mere hours before his crucifixion, Jesus goes with his disciples outside Jerusalem to pray and prepare for what Jesus knows is next.

Jesus is “grieved and distressed” (Matthew 26:37). As Mark puts it, Jesus is “very distressed and troubled” (Mark 14:33). Both Matthew and Mark quote Jesus: “My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38; Mark 14:34). Jesus begs his Father, “If it is possible, let this cup pass from me” (Matthew 26:39; Mark 14:36; Luke 22:42).

Jesus knows he is about to be betrayed by Judas, arrested, abandoned by his friends, put through a farcical trial, brutally tortured, humiliated and horrifically murdered. Worst of all, Jesus is about to bear the full weight of human sin and its consequences upon his shoulders. Jesus is about to experience utter God-forsakenness.

Did Jesus worry?

Some may object the Gospels never specifically say Jesus was “worried” or “anxious,” but that’s pedantic. The Gospels are very clear Jesus experienced deep distress in his soul. Jesus experienced profound pain and inner turmoil in the face of horrific circumstances.

If we are operating with the everyday, common usage of words like “worry,” “anxiety” and “stress,” Jesus absolutely fits the bill.

And keep in mind, Jesus was utterly sinless. He never once disobeyed God. He never once violated the Father’s will (2 Corinthians 5:21; Hebrews 4:15; 1 Peter 2:22). If Jesus could experience “worry,” “anxiety” and “stress” without having sinned, so can we.

The possibility of sinful worry

There is more to say, however. It is true Jesus experienced “worry” in a sinless way. That does not mean worry and anxiety always are sinless. There certainly are ways anxiety can be sinful.

We need to look carefully at how Jesus handled the distress he felt in the garden. First, Jesus prayed. Second, Jesus obeyed despite his fear.

The very act of prayer is an acknowledgment of God’s sovereignty and goodness. Why would you appeal to God if you didn’t think he could do something about your circumstances?

Jesus didn’t go into the garden, curl up in the fetal position, and let himself be consumed by his emotions. He turned to the Father in prayer. In his prayer, Jesus did not insist on his own desires being fulfilled, but rather on the will of the Father being accomplished.

Jesus was utterly terrified of what he was about to face, but he resolved to face it all the same. Jesus experienced profound anxiety, but because he trusted the Father and knew the divinely predetermined plan, Jesus chose to obey despite his fear.

Jesus’ worry was sinless, because it did not cause him to fail to acknowledge God’s sovereignty and did not cause him to disobey the Father’s will.

Worrying well

Jesus provides an example for us. We all face various tribulations in this life. Some face horrific circumstances beyond what many of us could imagine.

Jesus shows it is normal and acceptable for us to experience stress, anxiety and worry in the face of such difficulties. That inner anguish is not sinful.

Jesus also shows us, however, the appropriate response to this inner turmoil is prayer and obedience. This response will not necessarily cause the anxiety to disappear, but it will keep us from “sinful worry.”

When we pray, we acknowledge God is in control. When we obey, we prioritize God’s will above our own.

Of course, we will fail at times. This is where the primary focus of the Gethsemane story comes into play.

Jesus is not just our example; he is our substitute. Jesus died on the cross not merely for our sake, but in our very place. He took the consequences of our sin upon his sinless shoulders. After putting our sin to death in his body, he rose again in victory.

We are not sinless like Jesus. Our sin nature will cause us sometimes to worry in sinful ways. Yet we have hope, knowing the penalty for our sins already has been paid once for all.

Where we fail, Jesus has succeeded, and God credits Christ’s success to our account if we simply have faith in him. This is the ultimate comfort for worried souls.

Joshua Sharp is a chaplaincy services assistant at Waco Center for Youth. He holds a Master of Divinity from Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. The views expressed are those solely of the author.




¿Cómo Sé que Dios me Ama?

Saber y Sentir que somos amados por Dios tiene un gran impacto en nuestra vida

Tony Miranda

La palabra de Dios nos cuenta del gran amor que Él tiene para con nosotros. Una de las canciones que aprendemos desde niños en la iglesia dice, “Cristo me ama, bien lo sé… la Biblia dice así”. Aunque tenemos esta verdad en su Palabra, por alguna razón las personas no sienten que son amadas por Dios.

La verdad es que saber y sentir que somos amados hace una diferencia en nuestras vidas. En mi rol como padre, no hay un solo día que no les diga a mis hijas lo mucho que las amo, para que ellas crezcan con la convicción de que son amadas y esto tenga un impacto en sus vidas. De forma similar, esto también sucede en nuestra relación con Dios.

Alguna vez una persona me preguntó ¿Cómo sé que Dios me Ama? y ¿Cómo puedo sentir su amor? Hay muchas expresiones del amor de Dios a nuestras vidas. Son gritos de Dios diciéndonos cuanto nos ama. A veces estamos tan familiarizados con estas muestras de su amor, que no las percibimos. ¿Cómo sé que Dios me Ama? Las siguientes son algunas expresiones de su amor hacia nosotros.

1. Dios expresa su amor hacia nosotros por medio de la creación

Todo lo que Dios ha hecho y podemos apreciar en este mundo tiene un propósito. La creación es para la alabanza de su gloria y una expresión de su amor para nosotros (Efesios 1:11–12). Podemos disfrutar de lo que Él ha creado: la tierra, el firmamento, el sol, la luna, las estrellas, el mar, los animales, las plantas. Todo esto nos dice que Dios nos ama. Aun para aquellos que están lejos de Él son bendecidos por su asombrosa creación. Dios hace salir el sol para todos, como una muestra de su amor (Mateo 5:45).

2. Dios nos ha dado libertad de tomar decisiones

Dios no nos obliga a amarlo y obedecerlo, y nos da libertad para que nosotros decidamos si queremos seguirlo o no. Esta es una expresión de su amor. El verdadero amor no exige u obliga a alguien a someterse a una relación, sino que nos da la libertad de responder a ese amor. Cristo nos abre sus brazos de amor para tener una relación con Él, pero es en base a ese amor que elegimos venir a Él o no hacerlo. ¿Qué le impide acercarse al Señor? Usted tiene que tomar esa decisión.

3. Dios nos ha puesto en una familia

El diseño divino para que vengamos a este mundo es a través de una familia. Esto es una expresión del amor de Dios para nuestra vida. Él nos provee del amor que necesitamos al nacer y crecer a través de las personas que nos rodean. Piense en esto: cuando nacemos como bebés realmente no tenemos ningún merito para ser amados. Sin embargo, nuestros padres nos aman de una manera inmensa, simplemente por quienes somos y no por nuestros logros. Esto es una expresión del amor divino que Él ha puesto en el corazón de nuestros familiares. Aun para aquellos que no han recibido el amor adecuado de sus padres, siempre encontrarán apoyo a través de otras personas que Dios ha colocado en sus vidas. Además de una familia terrenal, Dios nos ha dado la familia espiritual que es su iglesia, para mostrarnos su amor.

4. Dios siempre está con nosotros

La Palabra de Dios también nos revela que no estamos solos. Dios siempre está con nosotros, y esto lo sabemos por su Palabra, y lo podemos sentir en nuestros corazones. Hay un gran número de versos en la Biblia que nos hablan de la presencia continua e ininterrumpida de Dios en nosotros a través de su Espíritu (Sal. 139:7–12). Dios demuestra su amor estando en todo momento con nosotros,  a lo largo de nuestra vida. Aun en las noches más oscuras, Él promete darnos aliento y nos sostiene (Deut. 31:6): aunque no lo podamos ver, Dios está presente.

5. Dios opera en nuestra vida a través de las circunstancias

Otra de las expresiones de amor de Dios es que el coloca eventos en nuestra vida que nos muestran su plan divino. A veces nos abre y nos cierra puertas para indicarnos su propósito para con nosotros. Su Palabra dice que para los que aman a Dios todas las cosas ayudan para bien (Rom. 8:28), así que aún en el dolor y la prueba, somos guiados por él (Sal. 23:4), por que nos ama.

6. Dios tomo nuestro lugar en la cruz

La muestra más grande del amor de Dios es en la cruz. Nos reconcilió consigo mismo cuando estábamos lejos de Él, nos atrajo hacia Él, y anuló el poder del pecado. Cristo tomó nuestro lugar en la cruz.

Aun cuando nuestras emociones sean fluctuantes o nuestra fe se debilite, eso no cambia la verdad que Dios nos ama. Le invito a que abra su corazón a ese amor tan grande que Dios tiene para usted. Estas verdades son suficientes para tener la certeza de su amor y sentirlo en nosotros todos los días. Sin duda, saber y sentir su amor tendrá un gran impacto en su vida.

Publicado el 2 de febrero de 2020 https://www.baptistpress.com/resource-library/espanol/editorial-como-se-que-dios-me-ama/  

 




Confía en Dios en el 2022

Era un tiempo de confusión.

Los discípulos acababan de pasar por el agonizante trauma de ver a su Mesías—y amigo—crucificado. Faltaba el cuerpo. Hubo informes de la aparición de ángeles, personas muertas caminando e incluso avistamientos de Jesús mismo. Algunos creyeron. Otros no.

Es un tiempo de confusión.

Después de las elecciones, el país está dividido y en medio de un caos político. La pandemia de COVID-19 sigue creciendo. Hay vacunas, pero también personas que han decidido que no las tomarán. Los problemas, argumentos, la división, y el caos se amplifica cada vez que abrimos Facebook o WhatsApp, y al ver vídeos y memes en nuestros teléfonos.

¿Qué hicieron los discípulos en medio de la incertidumbre? ¿Qué podemos hacer nosotros?

Confíe en la Paz de Dios

Jesse Rincones

Aunque no podían hacer “like,” compartir en redes sociales, reenviar mensajes, o usar Zoom como nosotros, los discípulos como quiera hablaban de las últimas noticias. “Todavía estaban ellos hablando acerca de esto, cuando Jesús mismo se puso en medio de ellos” (Lucas 24:36 NVI).

En medio de esta confusión, aparece Jesús.

En medio del caos, Él declara “Paz a ustedes.”

La Biblia registra que la reacción inicial de los discípulos fue a lo contrario: “espantados y atemorizados, pensaban que veían espíritu (Lucas 24:37 RV). Les tomó un tiempo acostumbrarse a la idea de que Jesús podría estar presente en medio de sus circunstancias.

¿Qué le está robando la paz? ¿Es una duda sobre el futuro? ¿Se preocupa por lo que va a pasar? ¿Son necesidades en su familia, sus finanzas o su futuro?

Jesús está aquí.

Él trae paz y la da gratuitamente a todos los que la acepten.

En medio de todo lo que está enfrentando, puede confiar en Dios: “Y la paz de Dios, que sobrepasa todo entendimiento, guardará vuestros corazones y vuestros pensamientos en Cristo Jesús” (Filipenses 4:7).

Confíe en las Promesas de Dios

Después de declarar la paz sobre ellos, Jesús les dice a los discípulos: “Cuando estaba con ustedes antes, les dije que tenía que cumplirse todo lo escrito acerca de mí” (Lucas 24:44 NVI).

Jesús les recordó lo que les había dicho mientras estaba con ellos. En tiempos difíciles, debemos recordar las promesas que Dios nos ha hecho. Esto requiere que pasemos tiempo con Él y con Su palabra.

Para recordar, debemos escuchar. Para escuchar, debemos estar cerca.

Jesús nos invita: “Permaneced en mí, y yo en vosotros” (Juan 15: 4 RV). ¿Está permaneciendo en Cristo y en la Palabra de Dios?

Cuando se acerca, sus promesas se revelan, sus palabras se aclaran. Usted va a descubrir cosas que va a necesitar más adelante: promesas, instrucción, dirección, corrección, estímulo.

Jesús les dijo a sus discípulos: “Ustedes son testigos de todas estas cosas” (Lucas 24:48 NVI).

En medio de la incertidumbre, los discípulos pudieron presenciar las promesas de Dios convertidas en realidad.

Las promesas de Dios continúan convirtiéndose en una realidad para los creyentes.

En el 2022, usted puede confiar en Dios—“Porque todas las promesas de Dios son en él Sí, y en él Amén, por medio de nosotros, para la gloria de Dios.” (2 Corintios 1:20 RV).

Publicado el 15 de enero de 2022 en https://www.baptistpress.com/resource-library/espanol/editorial-confia-en-dios-en-el-2022/




Voices: Overcoming partisanship through love

A recent Pew Research article states: “Partisan polarization remains the dominant, seemingly unalterable condition of American politics. Republicans and Democrats agree on very little—and when they do, it often is in the shared belief that they have little in common.”

Political disagreements within a society are nothing new, but the increased partisan divide has created a more toxic political culture, perhaps leading some to ask, “Where is the love of Christ?”

It’s one thing to have disagreements and discussions, finding common ground or staking out one’s point of view. But, in today’s society, our disagreements go beyond mere policy and often become very personal, to the point that common ground becomes seemingly impossible.

Is there common ground?

David French begins Divided We Fall stating: “It’s time for Americans to wake up to a fundamental reality: the continued unity of the United States of America cannot be guaranteed.”

He cites as some of the conditions driving us apart our lack of a common popular culture, a self-sorting of living near people who think just like us, and the increased dislike of people who differ from us politically.

French summarizes: “In plain English, this means that a person belongs to their political party not so much because they like their own party but because they hate and fear the other side. … At this point, huge majorities actively dislike their political opponents, and significant minorities see them as possessing subhuman characteristics.”

Sounding similar alarms, Ezra Klein states in Why We’re Polarized: “We are so locked into our political identities that there is virtually no candidate, no information, no condition, that can force us to change our minds. We will justify almost anything or anyone so long as it helps our side, and the result is a politics devoid of guardrails, standards, persuasion, or accountability.”

David Brooks describes it this way: “Politics is no longer about argument; it’s just jamming together a bunch of scary categories about people who are allegedly rotten to the core.”

Our Christians any different?

One might wish to assume Christians would be different. We would hope this unhealthy partisanship found in our politics today would not affect our churches. Yet, that is not the reality.

Again, turning to Brooks: “Christians are supposed to believe in the spiritual unity of the church. While differing over politics and other secondary matters, they are in theory supposed to be unified by their shared first love—as brothers and sisters in Christ.”

However, as Brooks points out, “Over the past couple of decades evangelical pastors have found that their 20-minute Sunday sermons could not outshine the hours and hours of Fox News their parishioners were mainlining each week.”

What happens to the message of the gospel when church members allow partisanship to invade every aspect of their lives, including theology and the church?

As Peter Wehner writes: “When the Christian faith is politicized, churches become repositories not of grace but of grievances, places where tribal identities are reinforced, where fears are nurtured, and where aggression and nastiness are sacralized. The result is not only wounding the nation; it’s having a devastating impact on the Christian faith.”

Where is love?

Where is love in all of this? How can we be salt and light in the world without falling into the political partisan nastiness that so defines our society? The answer is simple but perhaps difficult to put into practice: Be like Jesus.

In his final sermon before his assassination, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness.”

King was calling on us to look beyond our comforts, to look beyond our needs, and to serve and to advocate for the needs of others.

When we place others before ourselves, when we seek the good of others, when we seek justice for others, when we seek truth, peace and reconciliation for others, we do so not from a standpoint of partisanship, but from a calling to see the image of God in each and every person: the unborn, the refugee, the immigrant, the poor, the struggling, the mentally ill, the oppressed, the forgotten.

The Christian calling

Our calling as Christians is not beholden—and must never be beholden—to a political party or candidate.

We are called to live life in the shape of the cross: loving God (vertically) and loving others (horizontally).

Charles Wade describes it this way in The Jesus Principle: “The vertical beam of the cross of Christ reaches upward with love toward God. The arms of the cross reach outward with love toward others. Jesus is the nexus, demonstrating for us how we are to love God with our heart and love our neighbor as our self.”

He goes on to write: “If we follow the example of Jesus, we should know that Christians are expected to behave differently. The kingdom of God has not been established within any political party, be it Republican, Democratic, or Independent. Neither can the kingdom of God be legislated nor coerced through the pressure of religious tyranny. … The kingdom of God exists within the hearts of individuals whose sole allegiance and soul authority belong to Jesus Christ.”

Wade warns against confusing our allegiance to God with any political allegiance here on earth.

In our society today, where we are tempted to wrap the cross of Christ in an American flag, reorienting our lives with a proper Jesus perspective can be daunting.

At the risk of sounding too simplistic, certain steps can be taken: Turn off partisan cable news, limit social media, show abundant grace, read the Bible, worship holistically, be part of a diverse community of thought and background, and serve others as living sacrifices. When we do this, we will find ourselves in a healthier place, being the people of God we are called to be.

As Scot McKnight and Laura Barringer describe in A Church Called Tov: “A Spirit-formed, Christlike culture … nurtures truth, offers healing for the wounded, seeks opportunities to show redemptive grace and love, focuses on serving others (rather than being served), and looks for ways to establish justice in the daily paths of life. A Christlike church culture always has its eyes on people because the mission of the church is all about God’s redemptive love for people.”

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 of the author and not intended to represent any institution.




Editorial: Wisdom needed more than book challenges

NOTE: This editorial contains references to sexual violence.

Twenty years ago, Leonard Sweet told me over lunch: High schoolers don’t need more information; they need wisdom. Availability and access to information is not the problem; what to do with it is.

I was finishing seminary, and he was suggesting I become a high school teacher. As a church historian, philosopher, theologian, pastor and author of numerous books, Sweet had my ear. But I didn’t become a high school teacher.

Twenty years on, information is even more accessible, and high schoolers still need to know what to do with it; they still need wisdom. But wisdom may be taking a back seat to controversy over books.

When the government gets involved in book challenges—as State Rep. Matt Krause and Gov. Greg Abbott have done—wisdom tells us to be wary.

Two ironies of current book challenges

Current book challenges across the country are ironic in at least two ways. While adults are challenging books in public school libraries, many children and nearly all youth carry mobile devices provided by those same parents or guardians. Adults challenge one source of information while giving nearly free rein to a more problematic source.

Sweet’s point about information is pertinent here. Students might watch as every book containing any sexual or racial reference is withdrawn from their school library, but they’re more likely to watch far more tantalizing displays of the same material on their mobile devices.

Students have no problem accessing information about sex, sexual orientation, race, racism, violence and more, and we don’t seem able or willing to curtail that access. What we can and must be willing to do is instill wisdom in our children and youth for what information they are taking in.

A second irony of current book challenges involves the fact many challengers are Bible-believing, Bible-carrying Christians. The Bible they base their lives on includes content no less alarming than the books they want pulled from school library shelves.

Often lewd and abusive sex, horrific violence, vile racism and more—it’s all there in the Bible, that library of books we put in a child’s hand at church, that scandalous library we send home with children without much instruction on what to do if they stumble across two daughters getting their father drunk to have sex with him, the incestuous rape of Tamar, or the gang rape and butchering of a concubine. (Lord, don’t let them ask us what a “concubine” is.)

If book challengers and lawmakers ever determine cogent criteria for determining what books are permissible in school libraries, it’s reasonable to assume the Bible shouldn’t make the cut.

What would we do—some suggest we should ask, “What will we do?”—if the fervor over books like Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, which contains sexual and racial content, burned equally hot against the Bible? It may not come as a surprise that it’s already happened. The Bible was on the same challenge list as The Bluest Eye and many other books in Keller Independent School District.

Responding to problematic books

The world and its books are full of problematic and troubling stories. We need a better response to these stories than culling the books containing them. Such censorship is a tricky business. It’s too easy to draw the line in the wrong place.

If culling books is our best response, we will have no room to protest when Jesus’ resurrection triumph isn’t enough to keep stories of his brutal execution on library shelves. Said another way: Censorship can boomerang.

I’m not suggesting there aren’t any books in school libraries that shouldn’t be challenged. I know firsthand that there are books worthy of questioning. How we engage such challenges requires wisdom, the kind not always on display within fervent social and political moments.

Our kids started in a small school district with one library to serve elementary, middle school and high school students. When my son was in elementary school, he brought home a troubling graphic novel—a detective story with chapters illustrating in an almost educative way sexual abuse, murder and suicide, among other scenes elementary-aged children don’t need to ingest.

I met with the elementary principal and librarian. They were a bit embarrassed that the pastor and regular volunteer at the school brought this book to their attention. They decided—without my suggestion or direction—to remove the book. Wisdom might have separated the libraries like they had been in previous years.

I understand and appreciate some parental concern about what kids are encountering in school libraries. The book my son brought home wasn’t meant for him. Nevertheless, he was able to check it out, making our efforts at safeguarding his media intake seem like little more than a charade.

I also understand the scenes in the book are not exactly the same thing as narratives about gay, lesbian or transgender people; accusations and descriptions of systemic racism; or the Holocaust. That book’s content doesn’t confront the reader with socially relevant and politically problematic ethical questions. Wisdom questions the wholesale exclusion of such books.

Also, it was one book. Book challenges underway across the country involve hundreds of books. At that scale, wisdom tells us there is more going on than limiting access to objectionable material. Wisdom tells us to be wary.

In the end, wisdom

At the end of all the politics and publicity around book challenges, plenty of books will remain on the shelves that are just as problematic as whatever books are removed. In the middle of all the hubbub, will we have equipped our children and youth with the wisdom needed for reading the books that are left?

But that question assumes books are the only places our kids encounter the stories that trouble us. In reality, troubling stories are being lived out in the lives of our kids’ friends, families, neighbors and often in our kids’ lives themselves. Wisdom is needed for the true reach of our world’s ills.

Curating what our children and youth read isn’t the same as teaching them wisdom. Sweet was right. We need to give more attention to wisdom.

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.




Letter: Voices: Does the Bible teach universalism, that everyone will be saved?

RE: Voices: Does the Bible teach universalism, that everyone will be saved?

Joshua Sharp’s attempt to dismantle universal reconciliation notes Philippians 2:10 and 1 Corinthians 15. These passages clearly show all (Greek: pan) come into submission to Christ. He submits all to the Father, and God becomes all in all. None are excluded. Colossians 1:19 confirms that fullness.

In Romans 11:32 and 1 Corinthians 15:22, we encounter a contrast between two universal statements in which the first “all” determines the scope of the second.

If you read the words of the early Greek church fathers who lived closest to the time of Christ and who understood the ancient Greek, you will find they interpreted these Scriptures to mean the salvation of everyone.

Even some who reject the idea of universal reconciliation have conceded, as Neal Punt does, that “Romans 5:18 and its immediate context place no limitation on the universal scope of the second ‘all’ men.” Or as Larry Lacy said, “The most reasonable interpretation of Romans 5:18 would be that Paul was therein teaching universal salvation.”

Eternal conscious torment throws mud on God’s face and makes him out to be a cosmic torturer.

The same God who commanded us to love our enemies, “who wills that all men be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth” and “when lifted up, will draw (“drag” in the Greek) all men to himself,” will salt “everyone” with the fire of his purifying love.

Who are we like when we love our enemies? We are like our Father in heaven.

Brady S. Mayo
Houston




Voices: Christian faith is a shared life

Churches in my tradition commonly share what has been dubbed eloquently as “Wednesday night meal.” It is the only time I see some church members in an informal setting where we can catch up and visit about what is going on in our lives.

The church where I professed faith in Jesus had a small, but meaningful, Wednesday night meal gathering. We had two to three tables where people sat together. The youth group and children took up some of that space, and the adults took up the rest. No one was allowed to take their plate and eat in a different space in the church.

I don’t know how—maybe because it was not a big space—but we hardly segregated ourselves. The youth and teenagers sat interspersed with the adults.

The strangest part to me as a teenager was the adults acted like they really wanted to talk and listen to us. I was not sure why, but it made an impression on me. I had never participated in anything else where this happened.

Here is a challenge for you: The next time your church has a function where the congregation is present as a whole—a Wednesday night meal, a potluck, whatever—try to sit by a younger person if you are older, or an older person if you are younger.

It may be the only time you will sit and talk with this person throughout the week, or even the month. It may be the only time this person has a chance to eat with someone at all throughout the course of their week.

I know it sounds strange and a little uncomfortable, but if we cannot share our lives with one another, how do we ever expect we are going to share our faith with others?

Sharing the Lord’s Supper

At the beginning of COVID, our church temporarily changed the way we celebrated the Lord’s Supper. Instead of our traditional way of passing a plate person-to-person with the elements free to pick up, we called folks to get out of their seats and walk to distanced stations to retrieve prepackaged elements to open and consume when they got back to their seat.

This was not a hit with the congregation. Not only did they not enjoy having to get out of their seat, they struggled to open the packages with the thin flap over the bread and the thicker one over the juice. The bread tasted like Styrofoam and the juice like flat sugar water.

But from my perspective, it was interesting to watch our folks do this together. Some had to help others open their packages; some held them for others until they were ready; and instead of passing it from one to another, they shared in a walk together to receive it.

To me, the whole process actually was a beautiful metaphor of how we share our Christian lives of faith.

We are only able to share our lives with one another because of what Christ has done on our behalf. We are guaranteed we will mess up and need each other’s help and encouragement along the way.

Sharing our lives

When we share our lives of faith, people are transformed. The Thessalonians were transformed, because Paul not only shared words with them, he shared himself with them.

Read what Paul wrote to the Thessalonian Christians: “Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well” (1 Thessalonians 2:8b).

Paul is saying to them and to us the gospel compels us to share our lives with others. This is what motivated Paul and his companions to minister among the Thessalonians.

“Lives” means more than just our physical lives; it means our whole being.

By the time Paul wrote this letter, about a year had passed since he left Thessalonica. Timothy’s report of how the Thessalonians were doing prompted Paul’s letter encouraging them to stay strong and live ready in the Lord.

We need that same reminder if we are going to prioritize sharing our lives with others in the way Paul encourages.

Sharing involves sacrifice

It is important to note: Sharing our lives with others as the gospel compels sometimes demands sacrifice. Sacrifice is at the heart of the gospel and is displayed fully in the cross of Christ. If this is not your motivation, you eventually will quit.

In the relatively short time I have served in ministry, I have seen a number of Christians deflect from service when it became too sacrificial.

Sometimes it happened in the midst of conflict. Sometimes it happened when they experienced some kind of frustration in their personal lives. Sometimes it happened alongside bad or immoral leadership in the church. But it always had to do with what was motivating the person to go, serve and be involved in church and ministry to begin with.

Levi Price used to tell us in our pastoral ministry class at Baylor University’s Truett Seminary that ministry has the highest highs and the lowest lows. As good as the highs are, you cannot live for them.

You have to be motivated by the selfless love embodied by our Lord and Savior that makes all things possible. And often that selfless love embodied in us leads us to set aside our preferences in favor of sharing life together.

Matt Richard is senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Llano. His bachelor’s degree is from East Texas Baptist University, and he has a Master of Divinity and Doctor of Ministry from Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. The views expressed are those solely of the author.




Guest Editorial: Black history—my history—is American history

As I pause to reflect on Black History Month, my heart longs for the day we all can say without doubt, “Black history is American history.”

I am a Black man born and raised in America. When I enter a room, my blackness is on display before I speak. When I preach, my passion speaks as a Black preacher.

I am an American, yet America reminds otherwise.

American history is my history—all of it. We all were forced to be a part of it. American history called me “slave,” “three-fifths,” “colored,” “Negro,” “Black” and now an “African American.”

An attempt to ignore the fact our country has had two Americas is evident. This fact always is present, whether one is completing a form, an application or census data.

A dear, well-meaning, Christian, Anglo friend said to me recently: “People need to stop talking about race. John, when I see you, I do not see you as a Black man. I just see you as a man.”

He believed what he said, but his statement bothered me. It said, “Do not think or talk about your blackness anymore,” that he was content with the disparities, racism and injustice that continue to exist, that he was satisfied with Black history omitted in history books, and that voter suppression does not matter to him. He is OK, so I should be OK, too.

Furthermore, his statement devalued who I am. I am Black. Do not deny how God made me. The melanin of my skin is God’s doing. I am a man made in God’s “image” and “likeness” who happens to be Black.

His statement denied how America looks at me and treats me—minimizing my lived experiences: attended “separate-but-equal” public schools; in the first group of 68 students to integrate Wilmer-Hutchins High School; the first Black to serve as vice president of the student congress at the University of Texas at Arlington; and the first Black to serve as chair of the Executive Board of the Baptist General Convention of Texas.

When I was accepted into South Texas College of Law in 1976, I was one of seven Black people in a student body of more than 900. This is my history.

At the crossroad of history

If you had asked me a decade ago if we would be at a racial crossroad in America, I would not think it possible. Presently, the truth of Black history—American history—is dismissed by a large segment of Anglo-Americans who espouse the name of the Christian faith.

There is an ongoing move to suppress and silence further the ugly truth of American history. Critical race theory has been taken out of context and used as a cultural and racial wedge between white and Black people.

States passed laws against teaching the full truth of American history. States have enacted laws to prohibit instruction in our schools on anything in history that will make Anglos feel uncomfortable or guilty. Such suppression will hinder us from becoming “one nation under God.”

After the murder of George Floyd, it seemed our country had become enlightened and empathic toward the Black man’s experience, but it was short-lived. I hoped Black history would be taught and appreciated. I hoped we would be able to discuss race and racism intelligently and civilly, seeking to understand each other.

I hoped my Anglo friends would understand why I wore a Black Lives Matter t-shirt, why I went to the George Floyd march and funeral in Houston. I hoped they would understand my fears, because I have three sons and five grandsons. My hope was diminished by their silence and later their attack on me personally.

Recently, I ran for a fifth term on the Cy-Fair Independent School District school board. Being a strong pillar in this community and having served on the board for 18 years, living in the district more than 30 years, having raised four children and developed relationships—many white—and being a man who did not speak of his blackness, I felt American.

An ultra-right-wing political group sought to destroy my reputation because of my social media posts from my Black perspective of life and politics in America. I was labeled a racist even though my record showed I had been a consensus builder working hard for all children equitably.

I lost several “white evangelical” friends who could not value me having a Black perspective. Unfortunately, I lost my election. Some voting against me believed they were doing God’s will.

People of God, we are at a critical crossroad—a political, racial, moral and Christian crossroad. The future of America and possibly the church is at stake.

Will lies win? Will hate win? Will politics win? Will the church drift further apart racially? Will Black people continue to think or feel these words in Langston Hughes’ poem “Let America Be America Again:” “There’s never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this ‘homeland of the free.’”

All I am asking

I am asking Christians to practice the Christianity of Jesus with the ethic of loving your neighbor as yourself. I ask that we set up dialogue to bridge the divide, that justice be valued along with justification, that the heavenly Father be valued over the flag, that love abound, and that Christians lead a movement for diversity, equity and inclusion.

Broaden your awareness, and read one of the books in my personal library: Caste by Isabel Wilkerson; The 1619 Project created by Nikole Hannah-Jones; Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson; Begin Again by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.; Four Hundred Souls edited by Ibram X. Kendi and Keisha N. Blain; Strength to Love by Martin Luther King Jr.; Kingdom Race Theology by Tony Evans; Christians Against Christianity by Obery M. Hendricks; or One Blood by John M. Perkins.

“My people perish for the lack of knowledge” (Hosea 4:6). Face it and embrace it, so we can erase it from our future history.

Pastor John Ogletree is the founding senior pastor of First Metropolitan Church in Houston. He has provided leadership for the Cy-Fair Independent School District, Union Baptist Association, Baptist General Convention of Texas and the African American Fellowship. The views expressed are those of the author.




Editorial: Are we ready for a tighter near term?

In human terms, 2022 is going to be a challenging year on several fronts. Christians need to remind themselves: We are human, but we mustn’t face the challenges before us on human terms. Following Christ means we face them on God’s terms.

We’ve been under considerable and mounting pressure for two years. Indications are it’s about to get tighter, and not just financially. We will feel increasing pressure in almost every sphere of life, including physical, emotional and spiritual. Are we ready?

The state of things

Money often is the first thing to come to mind when we talk about tightening, because tightening invariably involves money. Also, money is easy to quantify; we have a sense of knowing what we’re dealing with if we know how much it will cost. Other things seem far more abstract and open-ended.

In the near term, money is going to get tighter. The financial pressures we’ve faced the last two years are likely to persist, if not worsen. The December 2021 spike in inflation—the fastest climb since 1982—has the Federal Reserve planning to raise interest rates “soon.” This likely will have a cascading effect on other areas of the economy—including investment portfolios.

Not only do we face the prospect of higher interest rates in the near term, we also face increased costs of goods and services, if we can even find the goods and services we’re looking for.

Inflation isn’t just a matter of increased costs. It’s also a matter of causation. Supply chain woes and labor shortages are a significant cause of current inflation. There’s less of what we want and fewer people to get it to us. This points to the deeper problem of inflation. It’s not the money; it’s the human cost.

One cause of labor shortages is the so-called “Great Resignation” seemingly caused by increased stress in the workplace paired, in some cases, with insufficient wages. Teachers, medical personnel, retail employees and other essential workers often have had their stress compounded during the last two years by an unappreciative and irate public. Staff still on the job are taking on extra work, along with the additional stress and pressure, sometimes without receiving additional pay.

In short, labor and supply woes are compounded beyond the money and aren’t likely to settle out in the near term. Until they do settle out, we will experience more tightening in the economy and workforce. And we may also feel more tightening in our chest or jaw.

We’re all affected by COVID in some way, even if we haven’t been infected, don’t have lingering symptoms, or haven’t lost a loved one to the virus. We also may have lost someone to something other than COVID. Even so, funeral homes are overwhelmed, so that COVID is affecting even the grieving process. The pressure isn’t just on our money; it’s also pressing on our hearts, minds and souls.

Broader pressures loom, including the upcoming midterm elections in the United States with its accompanying political tension, as well as the current concern over Russia and Ukraine, which will exacerbate global pressure if armed conflict breaks out. This is to say nothing about the other multiform pressures on nations and peoples all over the world.

Why all of this matters

We know all of this; so, why am I rehearsing it here? Because we need to pay attention to how all these pressures not only are tightening our material reserves; they also are tightening our human reserves—our mental, emotional, physical and spiritual margins—which are thin and evaporating, making it more difficult for us to navigate these pressures under our own strength and with kindness and civility.

These pressures won’t just affect the world out there; they will affect us as churches. They already are. Just ask your pastor.

As much as we want the pressure to ease, as ready as we are for relief, we need to ready ourselves for the opposite in the near term. In human terms, this is not what we want to hear; we’re already at or past our breaking point. But remember, we mustn’t face the near term on human terms.

Human terms—not in total, but in large measure—brought us to this point. It’s time for the church, of all people, to give up operating on human terms and to turn wholeheartedly to God’s terms.

Part of what this looks like is dropping the notion that being American is the pinnacle of human existence and exempts Americans, and especially American Christians, from travail.

As we address questions about what’s going to happen with our schools, our government, our courts, our jobs, our families, our churches and so much more, we need to learn from our brothers and sisters elsewhere in the world who have lived with multiform pressures greater and longer than anything we know directly.

While they are no more perfect than we are, they do have much to teach us. They can teach us how to live on God’s terms when government is fractured, when the economy is in ruins, when the social fabric is past frayed and is rending in two. Thankfully, we’re not at that point.

They can teach us living by faith when sickness is everywhere, and physical relief is nowhere in sight. Thankfully, we’re not at that point, either.

They can teach us how to follow Jesus against the flow of a culture thoroughly antithetical to him. We may know more about a culture at odds with us, the church, than a culture at odds with Jesus.

Another part of facing the near term on God’s terms is to acknowledge our ways tend to get us into more of the kind of pressure we are facing than they tend to get us out of it. Said another way: we must face the near term and beyond by humbling ourselves before God.

Yes, 2022 is going to be a challenging year on several fronts. Christians, we need to remind ourselves: We are human, but we mustn’t face the challenges before us on human terms. Following Christ means we face them on God’s terms. Are we ready?

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.




Voices: Respond to crisis by building bridges across faiths

The hostage crisis at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville Jan. 16 followed a theme that has become too familiar in our country. Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker welcomed a stranger in from the cold who then turned on the rabbi and three congregants in what the FBI is now treating as a terrorist act.

This is the third time since 1999 services have been interrupted by violence in a house of worship in Tarrant County. For me, this incident brought memories of waiting with parents of teenagers present at the shooting at Wedgwood Baptist Church in Fort Worth.

For the Jewish community, this event brings pain and frustration over another in a series of antisemitic acts of violence. And for the Muslim community, it brings the frustration of their faith being used as cover for a violent ideology.

As I listened to Jewish and Muslim acquaintances share these feelings last week, I became aware of how easy it can be, as a Christian, to have a different response than I would to a church shooting.

Do we have the same level of concern? Do we bring it up as a prayer request in our Bible studies? Do we pause in our worship services to pray for those involved?

In the parable of the Good Samaritan, the “expert in the law” wanted to justify himself by clearly defining the meaning of neighbor. He compartmentalized the concept of neighbor to separate out those he should love from those he shouldn’t worry about. Jesus used the parable to turn this view upside down.

Jesus’ parable and the Colleyville synagogue attack intersect for us as a call to consider how we love our neighbors well, especially those with a different belief system than our own.

Do we recognize and give attention to their pain? Do we choose to pass by on the other side of the road? Do we stop and show mercy?

Steps to building bridges

Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us.”

As diplomats commissioned for service in God’s kingdom, what are some steps we can take to build bridges that fairly represent Jesus to our neighbors of other faith traditions?

The first step for me has been to look beyond the labels we apply to our neighbors and see them as individuals created in God’s image. Something changes for me in multi-faith relationships when we talk less about our disagreements and talk more about life, our different backgrounds and our families.

When we share our stories, we begin to see people beyond the labels and opinions we apply to one another. The disagreements are still there, but they exist in a shared sense of humanity rather than opposition. We start to become neighbors who care for one another as individuals.

This leads to the next step of listening and learning. We easily can be tempted to make assumptions about others instead of listening to them. I have discovered people of other faiths have no interest in being my evangelistic project. In fact, they suspect most Christians talk to them only in an attempt to convert them.

On the other hand, when I listen to them as human beings, they often express curiosity about what I believe and why I believe it. Most people are not offended by my faith in Jesus, but they can be offended by the thought that my only interest in them as a person is in converting them. When we listen carefully, we begin to build the trust foundational to building bridges.

The third step is intentionality. If we want to build bridges to people of other faiths, we must build them on intentional relationships. We don’t sacrifice any of our convictions by sharing a meal, having a conversation or working on a community project together.

True multi-faith relationships are not about watering down our faith commitments, we just express our commitments respectfully.

Respect goes a long way toward building authentic relationships. Listening, demonstrating respect and valuing the other person are vital tools for any relationship, and they are critical if we want to be bridge builders.

Otherwise, like the expert in the law, we can define our neighbor according to those who look or think most like us. Then it becomes easy to walk by on the other side of the road racing to our next appointment.

Caring for the whole community

As ambassadors for Jesus, Christians can and should demonstrate the way of Jesus by allowing him to turn upside down our understanding of neighbor. We can determine to see others in his image, listen to and learn from their stories, and intentionally build authentic relationships with our neighbors of other faiths.

The time to build these bridges is now, so when a crisis hits our community, we already have that network of relationships that can make our communities more resilient.

We work at Multi-faith Neighbors Network to build bridges of mutual trust and respect among faith leaders so, as Christians, we can demonstrate the love and grace of Jesus as peacemakers in our communities.

We invite you to join us March 6-7 as we demonstrate how this multi-faith work happens at the Global Faith Forum in Keller. You can learn more at https://globalfaithforum.com/.

John Thielepape is the director of projects for Multi-faith Neighbors Network.




Letter: Texas abortion ban remains in effect for now

RE: Texas abortion ban remains in effect for now

How can you call an abortion limitthe Heartbeat law—a ban? You sound just like the godless, liberal, secular media!

We—God’s elect—need to use truth, not demagoguery as the measure of our reporting.

I guess if you feel abortion is good and want to stir up contention by calling a limit a ban, that’s your First Amendment right, but why should I listen to you supposedly presenting information in accordance with a biblical worldview, if you’re going to take the same approach as secular news outlets?

I started monitoring the Baptist Standard and report observations to my senior men’s Sunday school class. Maybe I just need to read CNN instead!

May God inspire and enlighten you!

Jay Nesbitt
Marshall, Texas




Commentary: A ‘best friend’ during the long goodbye of Alzheimer’s

My next-door neighbor Vi lost a sister to Alzheimer’s. Realizing she was likely to suffer the disease, she took steps to forestall the effects.

She was meticulous with notetaking and routines. She looked normal to those who did not know her well. We who knew her best recognized that long “goodbye” and were saddened.

We hosted a dinner in my boyhood home right after we remodeled and updated it. Mom and her husband, my wife and me, and our dearest friend Vi. All seemed sweet and well. As Mom and her husband were driving away, Vi asked me, “Who was that woman?”

I was heartbroken to realize her friendship with my mom of almost 40 years and all the memories were lost to her. Vi was polite and sweet with her smile and presence. She was present bodily, but not “with us.”

A few days later, I saw Vi walking along the road and offered her a ride home. She reacted as though I was a stranger—perhaps a stalker, alien to her—and was afraid to approach me.

It was then I called her daughter and reported the details, with a recommendation to ensure her mother’s security. She and her husband promptly provided a secure apartment adjacent to their home, along with 24-hour caretakers.

A sweet long goodbye

Know the goodbye can be sweet. Do what you can to provide the little things the person still enjoys, especially quiet visits.

For a woman in Corpus Christi, it was milkshake. I visited a couple of times a week, bringing a milkshake or two—one for her and one for me. We would partake and talk about whatever came to her mind, and she would smile.

I recall a scene from Driving Miss Daisy. Miss Daisy was moved to a full-care home after her stroke robbed her of “the present.” Hoke, played by Morgan Freeman, visited often. He was the most welcome person in Miss Daisy’s life.

They had a rough beginning, as Miss Daisy did not want a chauffeur and did her best to run him off, but he wouldn’t be run off. After decades of his service and her now being in the vulnerable state of dementia, she looked up at him and said, “Hoke, you’re my best friend.” Imagine that.

Among the kindest, noblest services or charitable acts in life is to be that “best friend” to one who is fading. I was fortunate to be that “best friend” to my mother and dad, and among “best friends” to two uncles, helping with their hospice care at the close of their long lives. I feel blessed with joy in the memories.

I pray for all who are in the midst of “the long goodbye,” that you will surrender grief to God in prayer and find the peace of God that surpasses understanding.

And find your role as one of that person’s “best friends.” You will comfort your loved one, build a wealth of memories and find treasure in heaven.

Maurice Harding pastored three Baptist churches in Texas and was church extension director for Union Baptist Association in Houston. The views expressed are those solely of the author.