Article by Greg Pinkner

The passage of 1 Corinthians 1:18-2:16 is often summarized by theologians as “the scandal of the Cross.” “Scandal?,” some might ask, “isn’t it the Glory of God?” Two things can be true at once.

Modern objections of Christianity and Christianity’s tenets are founded in not understanding the scope of what the Cross did and what it means. Many modern theologians object to the notion that the Cross could be the instrument of a God filled with wrath at sin and its commissioners. Furthermore, many Christians are unable to reconcile the idea of Hell and the God they are told loves them; the One that showered them with grace and mercy.

But that is not the Scandal of the Cross.
The Scandal of the Cross is not that there are those that will be judged and condemned.
The Scandal of the Cross is that there are those that will not.
It is salvation that is the scandal, not damnation.

For those in Christ will not scream in fear when they see God but rather hold up our arms and say “Daddy” (Gal 4:6). While we were haters and enemies of God, He died for us (Romans 1 and 5).

How can the “children of the devil” (John 8:44) possibly be the “children of God?”
By the power of God unleashed in the Cross.
By the Judge becoming numbered with the condemned.
By the Creator taking the curse He pronounced on all sinners onto Himself and bearing the weight of the wrath of God.

There is only one person ‘worthy’ in the discussions around the topic of the Cross and wrath, sin and judgment, condemnation and salvation.

It’s the One on the Cross. Not the one before it on their knees.

Dying for their sins, He calls them brothers and sisters, tells them He is going to make a place for them; tells them there are rooms in His Father’s house that are being made ready for them.

Lead Teaching Pastor

I became a believer the summer I turned 20 years old. I was at home in Memphis for the summer, and my friend Olivia was spending her summer at a camp in Missouri. She invited me to do Beth Moore’s study on David with her, so once a week, we would chat on the phone about that week’s work.  
 
I had come home from college feeling exhausted in every way- physically, emotionally, spiritually. Chasing after the gods of comfort and independence had only left me wanting. But I felt there was no place for me with Jesus. My sins were too much.  
 
And so I studied King David, reluctantly but also desperately, hoping so much for a life that didn’t feel quite as sad as the one I was living. Hoping that somewhere in these pages, there would be an answer- does this gospel have room for me, a broken 20-year-old?

Many of us have an Olivia.  
That person who, through their faithfulness, led us to Jesus.  
She studied the Bible with me from 300 miles away.  
That fall, Olivia showed up in the lobby of my dorm every week to lead a Bible study.
She invited me to ice cream and on walks.  
She laughed at my dumb jokes and drove me to the grocery store.
She spoke the name of Jesus over and over again.
She shared the gospel with me by sharing her life with me.

Very few of us will have a large platform (or a desire to stand on a stage).  
But all of us will have a Sarah. Someone in your life who desperately needs you to show up in the small ways. Someone who needs you to remind them of the truth about Jesus. He is good. He is just. He is merciful.

Pastor of Connections and Women’s Ministry

On a recent Sunday, I spoke with a group that was walking through our Trellis book. I was asked to speak on the practice of Gathering. Honestly, it wasn’t easy to know how to speak on this outside of what the book said so well. Also, Fellowship does well at gathering on a Sunday morning. Our people hold this as a high value. So, what do I bring to this conversation?

My original thought was to discuss with the group the importance of active participation versus passive consumption. This has been the struggle of the American church for over a decade. Large gatherings. Dynamic speakers. Powerful experiences. Rich and creative music. Not to criticize these as “bad” but to caution that they can easily sway us into a consumer mindset. At Fellowship, we face the same temptation. Or I should say I face this temptation.

I brought in a simple concept, but I needed more clarity on the importance of active participation in Gathering as a practice. I needed a metaphor. My friend and colleague, Brent Crenshaw, knows the power of a good metaphor!

Then, through the wisdom of a child, it clicked.

A daughter was hanging out with her parents in this group. After I mentioned the quote, I asked, “Does anyone else like to look at birds as I do?” thinking that it made me “old.” Yet, it was this girl who shot her hand up with me.

She went on to tell the group how much she enjoyed watching the birds, especially the hummingbirds. She told us of a rare occurrence where she was able to see two hummingbirds perch. I asked her to tell us what she wanted to do when she saw an awesome bird. She said, “I want to tell someone!”

And within this story, I realized the importance of Gathering.

She taught me through her story that Gathering together for worship and hearing the word is important for SEEING AND SHARING God's goodness.

It is a child-like wonder that I want to have as we engage in worship together. I want to tell my brothers and sisters that our Father is good! Let us press into this.

1. We must be looking for the glory of God in the small as much as in the large. 
So much of our time in modern life is wowed by the extremes. Big dynamic movies. Technological advances. ChatGBT (No, Chat did not help me write this). We are distracted more than at any other time in history. We want bigger, faster, and stronger. Yet, God’s glory can be most seen in the slow, still, small, and quiet.

Notice that when Jesus “snuck away” and met with Moses and Elijah (The Transfiguration – Matthew 17), he was with just three men, high up on a mountain, away from all the chaos down below.

We must slow down enough to notice God’s glory.

2. Sharing the goodness of God with others is a practice needed to be practiced. It’s not like you can flip this on like a light switch. It’s not natural for us to be others focused. We are bent on consumption and self-focused behaviors. And so, like exercise, we must develop the skills to share.

“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.” 1 Corinthians 13:11

Children are naturally bad at sharing. My 6-year-old and 4-year-old can testify to this. Yet, as parents, we help them learn the benefit of sharing. Why do we learn this as a child? There is something deeply rich about sharing that benefits another but also benefits us. It brings joy to give away goodness.  

And so, here is what I would like for us to do as a body of believers: become like bird watchers. Observe. Marvel. Enjoy all that God gives you in the time of Gathering. But also share, celebrate, and tell others about the goodness of God.

I don’t remember this brilliant girl’s name, but she is the official founder of the Fellowship Audubon Society. The society that will tell of the beauty that we see of God’s goodness to each other… and also nerd out on some cool birds. Membership is open to anyone who would like to participate!

Coordinator of Men's Ministry

At our most recent Trellis night, we practiced Gathering. The most familiar of the Trellis practices, gathering is something as a church we do on a weekly basis.

Every Sunday, we come together as a church body- we pray, we fellowship, and we hear teaching. We practice gathering every Trellis night, even when the focus is on a different practice.

We modeled our night on Acts 2:42-47 “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.”

We dreamed that this Trellis night would be our own Acts 2 church.

The entry into summer allowed us that dream- a smaller, stripped-down Trellis night than we have had before.

          A few trays of cookies and brownies.
          Two microphones.
          An acoustic guitar.
          150 people around tables.

We fellowshipped around tables as we ate carryout and dinner out of coolers.
We listened to members of our body talk about how they have experienced God- how he has taken hold of their life. He took them from death to life. He healed a marriage that seemed irreparable. We heard how he has used the practice of gathering to draw a daughter closer to him. He used other people to show her more of his goodness and grace.

We responded in worship.

And then we moved.

The 150 people entered the main worship center, a space made for 1400, for a time to simply pray.

To pray for the seats that are filled each Sunday.
To pray for the teachers who stand on the stage.
To pray that God would move in our church & in our city.
To pray for those we love to come to know Christ.

Acts 14:27 says, “And when they arrived and gathered the church together, they declared all that God had done with them, and how he had opened a door of faith to the Gentiles.”

As an adult ministries team, we have been praying that God would open doors of faith for the lost in our lives. On June 4th, we had a door in the wings of the worship center, on which RD invited those gathered to write the names of the ones they love who are lost. The door symbolizes what we pray for, that God would open a door of faith.

Within minutes of hearing the invitation, the line to write names on the door was filled.
Brothers, sisters, moms, dads, sons, daughters. I don’t know the stories of the names on the door, but to each writer- they are not just a name but a soul. They have value and meaning to someone in our body.

This is why we gather.
Not to make ourselves feel good.
Not to check off a religious checklist.
Not to see and be seen.

The practice of gathering reminds us that the Church is both a big ‘C’ and a little ‘c.’ We, as believers, get to be a part of both. We get to sit around tables and share our lives with those who live in our city, but also, we get to pray that “the Lord continues to add to our number day by day those who are being saved” throughout the global Church.

The door currently resides in the adult ministry office. A daily reminder that our Sunday morning gathering is not just because we are a church, and that is what we do. Our Sunday morning gathering is to strengthen and encourage our hearts. It is for us to remember our Savior. It is for us to link arms with fellow believers as we journey through this life. The door reminds us that being the church to one another requires and allows us to speak names out loud, through tears, hoping and praying that they will walk through a door of faith.

Let’s remember that these practices are layered and cannot exist without one another.
We can gather, but without prayer and reading scripture, it is simply just a social event.
A spirit of generosity cannot flourish without a commitment to read and pray. And without that spirit, we can come into a gathering feeling obligated and frustrated by another thing on the schedule. As we walk toward July and our hospitality practice, let us move forward knowing we get to gather as the church, just like the believers in Acts 2.

Pastor of Connections and Women’s Ministry

My soul, be quiet before God, for from him comes my hope.
Psalm 62:5

Last weekend, My wife and I snuck away with some of our friends. You won’t be surprised, but there are three words that describe our time, and those words made it feel Trinitarian.
Slow.
Small.
Quiet.
We slept in. Had good coffee. A beautiful view. We confessed frustration with our kids. We shared honestly about our marriages. Ate good food. Went on a hike. Dreamed of a different kind of community and inviting others in. And ate some more good food.
 
On our hike, we shared that we had recently listened to the same podcast. On the podcast, they reported that there are currently 12 locations in the lower 48 states where you can go and be in silence for 30 minutes. No man-made noise for 30 minutes. The rumble of a far-off highway, a plane flying overhead, nothing. This was discovered by an acoustic ecologist as he attempted to get 30 minutes of uninterrupted sound in nature. Many are in remote national parks, and we can’t access them without some sort of investment.
Investing into silence.
 
What is my investment into silence? Clearly, it won’t find its way to us. We have created noise-canceling headphones, which we fill with music. We have white noise machines, and I almost constantly have ambient music on in the background.
 
Do you know what is opposed to silence? Fast, Big, Loud things.
Do you know what can facilitate silence? Slow, small, quiet things.
 
When was the last time we didn’t read a book but reflected on a book?
When was the last time we weren’t setting up a queue for the next podcast or audiobook but quietly sitting with what stirred in us from the last one?
When was the last time we didn’t flip the calendar to the next teaching, event, or program but just reflected on what the Lord spoke through the previous offering?
When was the last time we paused long enough for our mind to catch up with our heart… or vice versa?
 
One morning before we headed out on our hike, I found a book on the bedside table about wood splitting and firewood stacking. I was hooked. I love a good fire. I love seeing a good wood pile. As I looked over the different Norwegian styles of firewood stacking (yes, I read about this), one of the comments was, “You can’t stack the wood in a hurried manner, or it is bound to fall. Pay attention to the knots, inconsistencies, and ways that some pieces don’t naturally lay together… it will make for a better wood pile.”

Why do I want fast, big, and loud? Distractions are numbing at times. My inconsistencies are frustrating. The misalignment of my life is annoyingly repetitive.
 
I’ve had six different people- two middle-aged men, two young adult women, and two senior adult women reach out to me with texts or calls about some of the ways we did service a little differently on Sunday. We created space for prayer and confession. It was a great idea by Spencer and led well into Rick’s sermon. Six people who thanked us for our leadership, but I interpreted it as their spirit saying, “Thanks for asking us to slow down. Thanks for investing in silence.”
 
Slow. Small. Quiet.
The unhurried rhythms of grace I pray we can adopt and invite others into.
 
Sorry for the distraction of another post and another article.
Now go invest in silence at some point this summer.

I love summer. I run to it undignified and grill the fattened calf each year upon its prodigal return. Night drives, dusk on the lake, the Coppertone-chlorine scent after a day at the pool. All of it makes me feel fully alive. Similar to Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, I believe the beginning of the year should be the first mow of summer instead of New Years’ Day.

Yet, there’s an unnamed, unofficial holiday that awakens my soul even more. In late September (usually) there’s a morning where you see your breath for the first time. The crisp, debut of fall. The vapor of a new season. Where the flaunt of summer is eclipsed by Autumn’s final chapter.

Our lives are that breath….a fading vapor. As James states in his letter, “What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes (James 4:14). Because we are created for eternity, we all forget life’s thinness. Autumn comes.

With only eight words, two counselors have taught me the most important lessons on living. My friend, Dr. Clark Stevens taught me once that “death teaches us how to live.” Another, Dr. Phil Johnson, taught me the meaning of “memento mori.” Translated, “remember, you must die.”
Both exhort us to remember that our life will end, but that life must be invested not spent.

If death teaches us how to live, how should we invest our lives?

We turn from lesser things of little eternal value and align our lives with things that last into eternity. In essence, we do insider trading on the Kingdom of God.

Scripture teaches us that some things are passing away and carry little eternal weight. 1 Cor. 3 specifically admonishes us that God will test our life’s manifest work with fire to see if it holds up. There are four areas the Bible teaches us from which to shift away:

1. Our Physical Life – We’ve already seen in James 4:13-17 that our physical life is passing away. We only have one metaphorical horse to ride and should steward our bodies well, but if attaining an ideal physique or managing our grey is our focus, we’ve missed it.
2. The World System – The broken world system (think corruption) is passing away. 1 John 2:15-18 tells us if we love this broken, here-and-now world too much, the love of God isn’t in us. The world has shiny objects, but shiny objects rust.
3. The Ungodly Use of Wealth – Scripture calls the ungodly use of wealth mammon. We know money and possessions in themselves are not ungodly. However, the ungodly use of wealth is also passing away and won’t last. Matthew 6:19-24
4. Our Citizenship – Even though I daydream of being Italian and eating pizza every day on a veranda in Naples, as Christians, we are not ultimately Italians, Americans, Lithuanians, or Senegalese, etc. In Phil 3:17-20, Paul states that our citizenship is in heaven. So, even our citizenship is passing away.

While the four above are “passing away”, we know there is another building against which to lean our ladder of significance. There are at least three things that last into eternity and carry the weight of its currency.

1. The Word of God – Peter tells us all flesh is like grass and is wasting away, but the Word of the Lord lives forever. 1 Peter 1:22-25
2. The Glory of God – Colossians 3:18-24 encourages us that even our work can count for eternal worth if done for His glory. This passage is speaking to biblical era slaves. At best their work was likely menial. So, we know that our work (insignificant or not in the world’s eyes) carries over into eternal fruit.
3. The Souls of People – Jesus didn’t own anything of value, except maybe His seamless undergarment. Remember, the Roman soldiers shot dice for it and didn’t want it to be torn. He went to the cross unclothed and took no physical possessions with Him. However, He told the thief in Luke 23:32-43 that he would be with Jesus that day in paradise. Jesus took the souls of men and women into eternity. They were His treasured possession. He has also adopted us as the same treasured possessions (Ephesians 1:5).

At 46 I’ve now counseled hundreds of people as a pastor and counselor. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want their life to count. Yet, I’ve met many (me included) who’ve sought to make it count through misguided ways.

Dear one, if you are searching for significance, losing hope, or weary moving into your next phase of life. It might be that your life has been spent chasing the wind. However, it’s never too late. God loves comeback stories. Nothing is blocking you from immediately shifting your life to: putting the Word of God into your own life and others’, working whole-heartedly for God’s glory (even in a job you hate), and investing into the souls of men, women, and kids around you.

Memento Mori.

Pastor of Biblical Life Counseling Ministry

At our last Trellis Night on generosity, a donor came forward wanting to prompt generosity. They'd provided $50 to every person at our Trellis Night to be generous in some way this month.
Here are some of the stories you've shared with us:

Yesterday (5/17/23), I went to my cardiologist’s office for a pacemaker check. After checking in, I sat down beside a man named Jacob, who was waiting for his wife’s consultation to be finished (she recently had triple bypass surgery). I greeted him, and we engaged in an interesting conversation. He soon told me that the previous night’s thunderstorm blew down a 100 ft. pine tree, damaging his backyard fence and a few things in his neighbor’s yard. He was in the process of getting estimates from tree removal companies but was shocked to learn that it would probably cost him at least $5,000.  
 
Jacob just retired last year as a restaurant owner and was concerned about the cost of this tree removal. I assured him that God was more than able to help him if he trusted Him. That’s when he told me that he was a believer in Jesus and was praying that the Lord would give him wisdom and assistance to deal with this crisis. Just then, he received a call from his son, which he took outside. I didn’t know if he would return before I was called back to see my doctor, but as God orchestrated it, he did.  
 
While he was away, God indicated to me in my spirit that I should give $50 to Jacob. I told him that the Lord wanted him to have the money. He got a bit emotional and was deeply touched. So, we talked further, and I learned that he was a Palestinian Christian, born and raised in Jerusalem’s Old City (Jordanian side), which was taken over by Israel after the 6-day war in 1967. At the age of 25, he moved to the U. S., became a citizen, and began his restaurant business. He and his wife, Ronda, attend church here in Knoxville. When we said goodbye, he gave me a big hug. I assured him of my prayers for him and Ronda, for which he was very grateful. Please join me in praying for them as God’s Spirit brings them to mind.

My 15 year old son was with me at the Generosity Trellis Night. He chose to use his $50 to pay towards a friend's HSM Mexico Mission Encounter trip this summer. He noticed hardly any money had been funded toward his friend's trip so he felt lead to help. I love this!

I was praying about how to give my generosity funds from the Trellis Night. My family has some friends who used to pastor our church when we lived in Kansas City. The mom, Robyn, had several strokes about five weeks ago. She has been in rehab and is doing a lot better. Still, they were raising money to build her an accessible bathroom. As we shared this story at our table at the Trellis Night, others pooled their funds together, and Robyn has been fully funded for her bathroom! I praise God for the generosity of others.

It is fun to give. I could think of all sorts of ways to bless someone or support some ministry, but I really wanted to wait for the nudge. When it came on Tuesday morning, it was for someone I had not even considered.

I am a speech therapist, and one of my students is a 6-year-old with special needs. His dad is a pastor of a young church. His mom is a stay-at-home Mom. They adopted this little boy and two others through state adoption. The two other little boys are both 3 years old. (Whew!) This mom and dad work so hard to do everything these little guys need. All three have experienced trauma at such a young age. They are so blessed to be with their new mom and dad.

As they were getting ready to leave my office, the nudge came. My first thought was, "Yes, Lord! How perfect." I explained to Mom about Trellis and learning more about giving. I told her about the nudge. She was so touched. Someone who gives all the time was so encouraged to have something given to them. I told her to do with it whatever she liked. She was so thankful, and I could tell she felt loved, not just by me but by the Father.
 
I have to say it is especially easy to give someone else's money away. Still, it really helps you think about looking for the nudge all the time and experiencing the joy of giving over and over.
 Can't wait to see what comes next.

One week before the Trellis Night on generosity, my husband and I were critiquing our front yard when my neighbor walked by. I hadn't talked to her in a year, so I said I was glad to see her and asked how she was doing. In that small chat, she mentioned that she had purchased three peonies for $50 each and that two didn't survive the drought we had last June.
 
A week later, at the Trellis Night, I told my husband the $50 was for me to buy my neighbor peonies to replace the ones she had lost. So my husband and I went to a local nursery and purchased three Kansas Red peonies. I was slightly nervous because buying flowers to plant in the yard is rather personal. I didn't want to pick the "wrong" color. Anyway, I prayed and asked God to bless the Kansas Reds.
 
My husband and I dropped off the peonies with a note. Later on that day, I got a text from my neighbor. She said she was blown away and blessed that God had heard her prayers and answered them in such an unexpected way! All the places she had gone to get her peonies replaced were sold out. The Kansas Red peonies were the perfect color for her. To prove that God was entirely in this gift, she sent me a picture of the Kansas Reds blossoms cut from the surviving peony plant and placed in a vase on her kitchen counter.

I was truly blown away! God's greatness and goodness were evident. It became clear that God had orchestrated this entire interaction a week in advance. I am immensely grateful to Generosity Trellis Night for inspiring the act of giving, which brought glory to my Heavenly Father.

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope.” – Lamentations 3:21

Over the past several weeks, I have emphasized the importance of remembering and reminding each other of the truth. I’m especially struck by how often Paul tells Timothy what he remembers and what he wants Timothy to remember in his second letter. As Mother’s Day approaches, I feel especially convicted to “practice what I preach.” To do so, I must walk through grief, and I have to offer up my pride. Here is my attempt. The following are two letters to different mothers that have been dynamic in my life. My prayer is that they encourage all of us to remember and remind well.

Dear Mom,

Now, almost 13 years have elapsed since we last spoke. This thought alone catches my breath. You have been greatly missed. I wonder at times if you think about us. Or are you totally wrapped up in His glory? What does He look like? Would you even be able to describe it? Is He everything you said He would be when you told us of His goodness?

I almost feel guilty to wonder if your mind is anywhere off Him – thinking about me – thinking I could be more important to you than Him.

There is a sad concept with grief that I didn’t believe at first – the idea that someone could forget their loved one. I must confess, Mom, some parts of you are hard to remember. Yet, on this Mother’s Day, I want to bring all I can remember to mind. I want to remember so we celebrate you and mothers like you. Gone, but not forgotten.

You were strength. Like a bear protecting her cubs, you didn’t flinch at danger. You were laughing. It filled the home. You were warm. Your embrace is one thing I miss the most. You and Dad were hope. You shared the gospel with Megan and me. You were dependent. You would claim you weren’t perfect, and I didn’t need you to be. You were dependent on Him to bring these things to our home. Thank you a million times for all that I remember and don’t remember you doing in my life.

I am confident that because of all you sacrificed for me, I am the man I am today. Your sacrifice and your strength were Christ in you. I see that more now as I have children. I feel the desires that maybe you felt for me. What a gift to know you in this way, even years after your passing. What a gift to remember you.  

I pray that I and others like me will spend time to remember well.

Dear Emily,

You are beautiful in every way. I struggle with words at times to describe my admiration. This letter attempts to remind you who I believe you to be and how I feel about you. Today, I want to talk about your beauty as a mom.

You are an amazing mother. I wish the kids were old enough to tell you their appreciation. Maybe one day they can, but right now, I will. You are firm and gentle. You keep even-keeled when the kids and I can be up and down. You make our home warm and light. You bring the gospel into our home. Christ is working through you. I’m so thankful for your partnership in bringing the truth to our kids.

You work. You volunteer. You care. You pursue. You laugh. You sometimes cry. You are dependent on Him. You pursue Him. You hope in Him. You are a true friend. You are so much fun. So true. So hope-filled. Such a gift to me.

I know at times you don’t believe these things about yourself. You don’t have to believe them to be true. I pray that God brings more people into your life to remind you of all the goodness God has birthed in you.

God has given you to our family. He knew what he was doing. We are so thankful for you!

Coordinator of Men's Ministry

Not a single Trellis Night goes by that I fail to find myself encountering a wild hopefulness carried by those in our body.
 
In March, when we spent time exploring the manifold practice of prayer, I heard the hum of voices lifted on behalf of friends and family who need the presence of Christ in their lives. Had the waves of prayer that went up been an actual wave, Hawaii's best North Shore surfers would've shouted in delight as they rode it toward the shore. The atmosphere in the room was electric, and several of us stood in the back, alternating between lifting our prayers and listening wonderingly to the raised voices of those in the room.
 
The following month when we explored the practice of Scripture, we spoke of how spending time in the Word of God would inevitably lead to memorizing portions of it. Toward the end of the evening, we challenged those gathered to stand and, beneath lowered lights, share a verse they'd learned in one season or another. A passage that had sustained and nourished their life in Christ. As is always true, the Word of God ushered in the presence of God, and person after person stood and proclaimed words from the Word which had, at one moment or another, lodged themselves deep in their heart.
 
· "And be not conformed to this world: but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." (Romans 12:2)
· "Not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit,' says the Lord God Almighty." (Zechariah 4:6)
· "Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalms 46:10)
· "My soul waits for the Lord More than the watchmen for the morning; More than the watchmen for the morning." (Psalm 130:6)
·     A voice cries: "In the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain." (Isaiah 40:3-4)
 
Scripture after Scripture filled the room, and those from Baptist backgrounds smiled as we heard the familiar "thees" and "thous" of the old King James. We all left encouraged and consoled, wrapped in the intimacy of the Word.
 
And so we came to Sunday night's Trellis Night on the practice of generosity.
 
At the end of a weekend containing a Taylor Swift concert and a King's coronation, arriving at the church on a Sunday evening to explore generosity felt like a hard sell. The topic of money often puts people on edge. And while you've been chirpily reassured that "you've not heard generosity spoken of like this!" you tuck your skepticism into your back pocket, certain you'll need it at some point.
 
Our evening began with worship as we sang of the goodness of God. We moved from new songs to old hymns and declared that "All I have needed Thy hand hath provided."
 
And then, we moved into exploring four aspects of generosity: time, knowledge, influence, and finances. Throughout the evening, our people gathered around tables and shared not how they'd given in these areas but how they'd received.
 
When Greg said in last week's sermon that "Generosity puts the glory of God on display," he spoke truly. We all reflect on our recent and not-so-recent memories of moments when someone invested time. When they listened to our hearts on a rainy and random Tuesday morning. When out of their knowledge, they taught us to change brake pads, knowing a bit of time and grease on our hands would save money and provide a sense of accomplishment. When their influence and insight helped us make a decision we wouldn't have made otherwise. All our recollections reminding us of His glory.
 
You see, it's all generosity. All of it lavish and all of it straight from the Father to us.

We didn't avoid talking about money Sunday night. In fact, we encouraged one another to dream about it. We asked: What has the Spirit drawn your attention to in recent days and weeks? What opportunities for giving have you been daydreaming about? What keeps coming to your mind when you've said, "If only…"
 
A man from my table shared with our group, "Every day when I leave the gym, I see a group of homeless people. I never carry cash, but I always notice them and want to help provide for them." I overheard a woman at a table next to mine share her heart for single mothers, and later, when we were asked to share the dreams we'd voiced at our tables with those in the bigger room, a young woman stood and said, "I work with an organization that serves those who've been affected by sex trafficking. If I had additional money, that's where it would go."
 
And on and on and on.
 
Three hundred stories rose to the heavens, and together we began to imagine a world made new as we dreamed about ways we'd invest deeply in the Kingdom.
 
Just before our night ended, we shared the news that a donor had come forward wanting to prompt generosity. We spoke of how they'd made a sum of money available to every person at our Trellis Night to invest in the dreams that had just been shared.
 
The news was met with quiet at first. And then… laughter. I'd, of course, known that the evening would end this way and had done my fair share of wondering how people would respond. Never had I expected laughter. A cheerfulness rippled across the room as people realized that they had the opportunity to bankroll what had, moments ago, been a dream.
 
As the evening concluded, I watched as person after person, moved by the Spirit, made their way across the room to the girl who'd tearfully shared about investing in women affected by sex trafficking. One person after another pressed their money into her hand, and as they did, her tears came along with a realization that He sees, He knows, and He provides.
 
A wild hopefulness. An unrestrained generosity. That's the DNA of Fellowship Church. We're a people who live the truth of "Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside."

Pastor of Spiritual Formation and Community

Woe to those who call evil good  
and good evil,  
      who put darkness for light  
and light for darkness,  
      who put bitter for sweet  
and sweet for bitter! 
    Isaiah 5:20 
 
We are watching as Western Civilization seems to be fraying and coming apart. It may or may not be, but the redefining of everything from gender to food is having a massive impact not only on how we see the world but also how we understand it. One of the most prevalent ways we see this is right before us and has big impacts on all sorts of places is regarding good and, especially, evil.  
            
Evil, as a concept and category, is largely missing from our culture. I know you are thinking, “No, we have people calling each other evil all the time.” But think it through- we largely call acts of misanthropy and violence as occurring because of trauma, mental illness, and poverty. The villains in our movies and stories are now misunderstood people, not agents of evil and moral corruption. Consider that in the 1980s, Darth Vader was added to the National Cathedral as a grotesque of evil. Now, he has a backstory that says he did it all for love.

When we boil down evil to a set of cultural issues or personality misalignments, we lose the ability to call people to good and to oppose evil. It puts us in a place of helplessness against evil. We believe that education, therapy, and reducing social stress points like poverty will eliminate evil from the world. It won’t. We, as Christians, know it won’t.

Christianity teaches us that evil has an existence in the human heart that won’t leave and must be resisted. The faith teaches us that we must not only resist the evil within ourselves but to teach our children to do the same, to call our government and neighbors and institutions to be in the process of making sure that which is evil is called evil and excised as evil.
 
Evil must be called evil. It must be named and identified. When evil is present, its greatest ally is silence. Our time has given us all the chances we would need to call people we disagree with evil but made us call mass murderers or violent criminals traumatized or put the blame of the crime on society itself.

There are all sorts of issues that will be tangential to this that would need to be addressed, but space does not allow. Issues like how to forgive, what must be forgiven, and how to walk with the necessary values of justice and mercy are just some of those topics.

The lack of clarity around evil is an evil. It keeps us from being able as a culture to say this action will cause us all to excise you from us. It is intolerable. It also calls us to a place of restraint. To not use evil quickly or as a throwaway line is to treat evil as a category that demands respect.
 
Our God is good. There is no shadow of evil in Him. He calls us to him and to understand that evil is everything opposite of Him. We cannot accept it. Without evil as a category, there is a piece of the Creation that is not accessible to us. We will feel lost. You can see it in our culture now.

To not call evil "evil" is evil. 

Lead Teaching Pastor

Yet again...

“A voice is heard in Nashville, lamentation and bitter weeping.
Mothers weeping for their children, refusing to be comforted,
Because they are no more.”

Chad Scruggs, Senior Pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church and father of Hallie Scruggs, one of the three children killed at Covenant School in the tragic shooting on Monday, asked this question in his powerful March 5th sermon “Death’s Conqueror” “How do we face death in our world, especially untimely deaths without the pain and confusion of death leading us to despair?”

The ages of the three children killed at Covenant School are the exact same age as my oldest daughters—9 years old.

There are, of course, no words that can capture the grief, horror, shock, and evil of this latest mass shooting. The reports of parents wailing and waiting as they waited to see if their children would walk off the bus, safe from the physical carnage but stained forever by the emotional and psychological trauma of this day. This is the deepest grief, the greatest pain—to not only lose a child but to lose a child in such a senseless and evil act of violence. In addition to the three children, three adults were tragically also killed, including the head of school, a substitute teacher, and a member of the custodial team.

God invites us to pray and to pray on behalf of others, and we know how very present the Lord is to those in the valley of the shadow of death. Psalm 34:18 says— “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”

There is a reason that the prayer book of the people of Israel, the Psalms, is filled with prayers of lament. Because there is so much in our world to lament and grieve. The Bible shows us the world as it truly is—filled with suffering, pain, and death. There is good and joy and beauty in the world. The Bible revels in that as well, but from Genesis 3 on, we see an absolute mess of humanity on page after page and a gracious and loving God entering into this very mess with us to give us real and actual hope in the very midst of it. The biblical authors do not say that God will spare us from every affliction but that God will be with us in every affliction.

We can and must pray to the Lord when tragedies happen and not lose heart in coming before Him, pleading with Him to move in power. The church has always met the greatest moments of suffering with the deepest reservoirs of prayer, lament, and tears.

But prayer is not all God calls us to. Pray is an action, but it is not meant to replace other actions that may be needed for justice to roll down or for systemic issues to be addressed. Tears and righteous anger, lament, and laboring for the kingdom to come here and now are the way to respond to the world in all of its brokenness.
There are many different issues at play within these tragic mass shootings that we have seen in our country over the past 25 years. There is mental health, gun control, family dynamics, online behavior, spiritual oppression, social isolation, and others that help to form the web that is a mass shooting.

The church is not the state. We do not have the power to pass or enact laws, but that does not mean we should be disengaged from the state or from the issues of our day. We must advocate for policies that create a more just world. The 2nd Amendment to the Constitution takes center stage each time there is a mass shooting, and how exactly what the founders intended relates to the personal possession of the types of firearms we have today. That is a very important debate to continue to have, but that is not for this article.

Laying down your life, not taking up your arms, is the way of Cross-shaped people. This doesn’t mean that individual rights are unimportant, but that the American insistence on individual rights so often taking precedent over every other consideration is not what the New Testament teaches. What must drive followers of Jesus is the flourishing and well-being of others, not ourselves.

So, my encouragement and challenge to us is to pray and pray and pray.
And let love for others be the greatest ethic of your heart and hands.
And don’t give in to cynicism.
And know there is an evil power in the world that seeks to steal, kill, and destroy.
And weep. And sow in tears.
And know America is a country where there is much to be proud of, but it is not the Kingdom of God.
And pray specifically for deep repentance and revival in our country.
And ask the Lord to come soon and very soon.

Chad Scruggs ended his March 5th sermon with this profound insight, made more haunting now in light of what happened.

For third graders, Evelyn Dieckhaus, Hallie Scruggs, William Kinney, and adults Katherine Koonce, Mike Hill, and Cynthia Peak, Monday, March 27th, 2023, was their final day on earth, but not the final day of their life. They will be raised on the last day.

I was able to tuck my girls in last night. To say a prayer with them. To tickle them. To know they are in the room just down from my wife and mine. Many parents at Covenant School and, tragically, many other schools over the past decade have lost that nightly moment. So many moms and dads weeping for their children. We weep with them. As does our Lord. It is not all the Lord is asking us, but it is the right place to start. Sow in tears and pray…

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Pastor for Adult Ministries & Teaching

If we were to poll our church body on what Spiritual practice they wish they were “better at,” I’m willing to put my money on that practice being prayer. I’ve never met a single Christian, regardless of their maturity, who would say that prayer was a practice they were great at and had no room to grow in. Yet, prayer is drastically instrumental to our formation to Jesus.

Each month we focus on one of the practices of the Trellis, and prayer happens to be our practice for March. And our hope for this month is for each of us to be better equipped and empowered to pray. To pour gasoline on the flame that is our prayer life in such a way that our Church body is changed moving forward.

So, I ask the question, why is prayer often a practice that is lacking in our formation to Jesus?

We all can agree that it’s not just important but necessary for a healthy and holistic discipleship to Jesus. We know that Jesus himself called his Church a “house of prayer” (Matt. 21:13). We know that Jesus was known to wake up early in the morning to go to “desolate” places to pray and commune with His Father (Luke 5:16). We know that Jesus’ disciples, out of everything they saw Jesus say and do, asked for Him to teach them to pray (Luke 11:1).

So, why is this such a difficult practice for us?

We live in the most individualized, self-sufficient cultures in the history of human civilization. We have been discipled, formed by our culture, not to depend on anyone but ourselves. To “tie ourselves up by our bootstraps and get to work.” And prayer quickly orients us to the truth that we are desperate, needy people. Which our flesh wants to fight against.

In his book A Praying Life, Paul Miller says maybe one of the reasons we don’t pray is that “you are quietly confident that time, money, and talent are all you need in life to overcome.”
So, I’ll say it again. Prayer is for the desperate.

Those men and women in your life that you look up to as prayer warriors are where they are in this practice, not because they are more disciplined than you, but because they understand their need for God to show up and move for what they cry out for.

Are you longing for a deeper formation to Jesus? And you recognize that you have zero power in and of yourself to make that happen. Cry out to Jesus in desperation.

Do you have a friend who doesn’t know Jesus, and your heart breaks for them? Even after many conversations, they still seem to not yet understand their need for Jesus. Cry out to Jesus on their behalf in desperation.

Do you know someone in a battle with cancer or another health complication, and doctors cannot seem to help the situation? Cry out to Jesus, our great healer, in desperation.

Is your marriage struggling? Needing a miracle for restoration to happen? Cry out to Jesus in desperation.

Have an ongoing battle with sin that you just can’t seem to defeat? Believe the Gospel of grace and cry out to Jesus in desperation.

Only when we give up the phony notion that we are capable, powerful, sufficient beings can we begin to see change in our prayer lives.

The good news is that our God is eager to grant power to those who boldly approach his throne in desperation. He is truly capable. He is truly all-powerful. He is truly the only self-sufficient being. Now that is good news for us when we pray as those who believe it.

“I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore, I will call on him as long as I live.” (Psalm 116:1-2).

My only encouragement for those of us longing to grow in the practice of prayer is this: get desperate.

Pastor of CollegeLife

In his book, The Saving Life of Christ, Major Ian Thomas writes: "The only ultimate source of divine activity in all spiritual life is God Himself – 'Christ in you the hope of glory' (Colossians 1:27). The church is so slow to learn. It admires and seeks to emulate the example of the mighty but so seldom takes the trouble to 'turn aside and see' the reason why."

At seminary, reading Thomas' admonition to "turn aside and see" marked me. On December 4, when RD used the exact phrase in his sermon, it woke something in me, and for the past two months, the phrase "turn aside and see" has been the beat of my heart.

So, a month later, after stumbling across reports on the revival at Asbury, I found myself telling the Lord, "I don't know what's happening or if it'll even still be happening when I arrive, but I want to be the kind of person who's willing to turn aside and see what you're doing." An hour later, my husband Elijah and I found ourselves barreling north on I-75, through rolling farmland dotted with stately homes, and arriving at Asbury.

Turning onto the campus, we spotted Hughes Auditorium, snagged a parking spot between two brick buildings, and walked toward the chapel. Slipping in through the back door, we found ourselves in a crowded sanctuary filled with quiet piano music and the hum of prayer. Making our way up to the balcony, we squeezed into seats, took a moment to orient ourselves, and began worshiping.

For the past several days, I've tried to put words to my experiences at Asbury for others when they've asked what it was like. I've wanted to be careful of what I say – after all, how can one accurately describe God's movement and presence? Carefully. Reverently. Leaving room for awe.

As I reflect on my time there, I offer a few observations:

Worship plows up fallow ground
In some ways, worship at Asbury was both similar and different from how I’ve experienced worship in other settings. It was similar to how I’ve worshiped overseas – equal parts desperate and hopeful, exuberant and reserved. But it was different than how we in the West tend to worship. It was stripped down. Bare. There were no concerns for either lighting or lyrics and likely very little in the way of rehearsals. There were no visual cues between musicians directing songs and no sense of timed-out services or set lists. As I watched various people take the stage and lead, I felt they had one foot in the room and the other in the heavens. It was as though God Himself led, and we all followed along.

There was a moment when we sang the chorus of John Mark McMillan’s “How He Loves,” and to be caught up in continuing to sing “He loves us, oh how He loves us…” long after the musicians stopped playing was staggering. In one moment, God’s people moved past the idea of God’s love into the reality of it and couldn’t stop declaring the truth of it. And in so doing, the veil between heaven and earth lifted ever so slightly, providing space for them to know the love of God as never before.

The work of prayer is paramount
The atmosphere of worship provided fertile ground for the work of prayer. There was little thought about where praise ended and prayer began – they felt the same. I’ve watched my husband’s passion for worship and prayer throughout our marriage. As much as he loves to lead worship, he knows prayer is what’s central. I see the same thing in Spencer. And in Emily. And a host of others who lead us as worshipers.

Singing of and receiving God’s love for us as sons and daughters moved people to prayers of praising Him. Prayers of drawing near. I found myself moving from song to prayer and back again - receiving from the Lord a sense of His deep care over me to pouring out my praise before Him.

And at the hinge point was the work of confession.

Confession sits at the crossroads
During the time I spent at Asbury, there was little speaking or teaching from the stage. When there was, it was to prepare the people gathered for the work of confession. People were encouraged to stand and complete the simple sentence, “I confess _______.” As they did, the congregation would reply, “The blood of Christ covers you!”

When JC preached on February 12, he read James 5:16 and remarked, “Repentance brings forgiveness. Confession brings healing.”

I saw this firsthand. I saw the people who stood and confessed but do not remember their faces or form. I only remember that their confession was, in some ways, mine as well. For I, too, confess anxiety. I confess friendship with the world. I confess addiction. I confess fear.

And in confession, because He loves the brokenhearted, God came near.

Revival at Fellowship
In his book, The Pursuit of God, Tozer writes: “Complacency is a deadly foe of all spiritual growth. Acute desire must be present, or there will be no manifestation of Christ to His people. He waits to be wanted.”

He waits to be wanted.

Since coming to Fellowship, revival has been a constant thought and a cherished hope of mine. Not just because of my Southern Baptist roots but because of what happens when the people of God—and then the people of the world—experience the outpouring of God.

Could it happen here? Could our church be a place where the glory of God breaks through for a more profound experience of Him? And if so, how might we prepare for His arrival? Here are a few thoughts:

Plow deep.
Right after seminary, there was a year or more when Shane and Shane’s Song “Yearn” was on repeat. The chorus says:

“Lord, I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only You
Lord, I want to yearn….”

I don’t know that I was always aware of what I was singing, but I was mindful of being utterly captivated and undone by the work of God, at how He is both inscrutable and imminently knowable. Wherever you meet with Jesus, begin preparing the soil of your heart. Ask Him, “Increase my desire for you.” And if you’re low on desire, ask Him to help you want to want Him. It all belongs.

Pray hard.
Get quiet. And in the silence, ask God, “Do you love me?” And hear Him reply in the affirmative because He always replies in the affirmative.

For some, the question you ask might be gutsier, “Why do you love me?” If you’ve lived with hard-to-please parents or your identity has been shaped by your performance (as mine has), you need to brave the question because you need to hear the response.

Why start with this question?

Because when you begin to know yourself as a beloved son or daughter, all bets are off. When you get close to the roaring fire of the Almighty and become convinced of His deep care over you and His Sovereign preference for you, you’ll be set ablaze. And whether or not revival fires break out across Fellowship, they’ll break out in your life.

But if we all become hearth fires? If we all began tending the fire in us, taking the dry kindling of our lives and touching them to the roaring fire of the Almighty? If we were all ablaze? Well then, nothing could hold back the movement of God in our midst.

Prepare for rain.
I was nearly on eye level from the balcony with the phrase “Holiness unto the Lord” emblazoned at the front of Hughes Auditorium.

It’s a phrase from the prophet Zechariah: “And on that day there shall be inscribed on the bells of the horses, 'Holy to the Lord.' And the pots in the house of the Lord shall be as the bowls before the altar. And every pot in Jerusalem and Judah shall be holy to the Lord of hosts….”

Holy. Set apart. Separate from what surrounds us. Not because of our ability or work but because of the work of the Holy Spirit.

I hope that it’s only a matter of time before our worship, praise, prayers, and confession tip the scales and He appears in our midst.

Do you have to go to Asbury? No. But if you do, you’ll realize that knowing and loving Him is far easier than we make it out to be and that revival is more accessible than we ever imagined.

He waits to be wanted.

Pastor of Spiritual Formation and Community

“We are not rich by what we possess but by what we can do without.” – Immanuel Kant

At some point last year, I removed myself from all social media. As an older Millennial, this was equally “on-brand” and “off.” It seems many are considering this exit as well. There is a growing discontent with what the platforms provide for our emotional, social, and spiritual lives.  The primary reason why I quit? Comparison.

As I have gotten older, I have become much more reflective of my past. I have noticed that much of my life up until this point has been driven by a desire to “live up” to the standards of others. I’m driven by a need not to let others down. While I now see this as poor relationship motivation, I used it as an essential element of many past relationships.

And through the past decade of my navigation of social media, I noticed this desire inflamed by platforms that promote self-focus and that ever-nagging question of, “Will they like this?” Can you imagine how many times I checked to see if my post received comments or likes? The red icon became a drug.

Now you might be asking yourself, “Is this Matt’s attempt to preach about the evils of social media?” When likely you are reading this on a social media account!
This is not a call for the disbanding of social media. Not yet, at least. It is a warning to the devices of this world that inflame our “unrighteous desires” and lead us away from God. A flame – all too familiar to many.

It is contentment that everyone longs for. We want to feel comfortable in our skin. We want to be in relationships with others – healthy and loving relationships. We want to be noticed by someone, and we want someone to see us deeply – to know us deeply. We want to make a profound, meaningful impact in our world. Were we not created this way?

Too many of us have searched for this place of contentment in others more than our maker. Social media has only expedited our ability to find it primarily in others. This is what creates comparison. We feel we can only truly find contentment when we are at the level of, noticed by, or surpassing our fellow humans.

To return to the levels of peace and joy we so long to have, we must consider two essential questions:

• Whom does God say I am? (Who I am)
• Whom does God say he is? (Who made me who I am)

Paul wrote these words to the Philippians, “I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance, and need. I can do all things through HIM who strengthens me.”

Paul’s belief in whom God said he was and whom God said HE was, led to Paul finding contentment. It doesn’t mean we will never feel pain. It just changes pain’s meaning.

May we lean deeper into the truth of who we are in Christ. And may this lead to the peace that we so long to have.

Counselor in Biblical Life Ministry

In the Brothers Karamazov, Dostoyevsky writes, “Hell is the suffering of being unable to love.”
Men’s engagement in the church has been a decades-long topic of concern for many church staff. It has been thought that church worship services appeal to women more than men. The concept of relationships through group formation typically appeals more to women than to men – “sitting in a circle and talking about feelings.” Gender stereotypes and sexuality play many roles in why men are not engaged in the church.

Yet, I want to attempt to answer this question differently.

To simply put it, we men have struggled to be engaged because of fear. This fear that I will be unable to do what I am created to do. Maybe this hasn’t been formed into words for most men, but the ache is there. Since Adam, men have such a pull to abdicate our responsibility of spiritual growth and the building up of others. Some have called this passivity. I don’t disagree, but I wonder if fear is the more appropriate word here.

In my own life, and within many of the marriages I have counseled, I have seen the common ache of the wife to get their husband to take ownership of the spiritual leadership in the family. Yet, so often, we men quietly back away.

Why is that? What happened to us that we are bent to passivity? Fear.

We struggle to engage in the hard things. We want intimacy and connection, yet they are often too difficult. So, we go to affairs and pornography. We struggle to lose or lose something that we love. So, we cheat and manipulate to hold onto “it.” We struggle to say the hard things. So, we quietly sit to the side. Fear keeps us hidden and stale, unfortunately hurting those that we love.

In his book, “Fully Alive,” Larry Crabb highlights the word Zakar as the Hebrew word for “male” as it was described in Genesis. – “In the image of God he created them, male and female He created them. (Genesis 1:27)”

What is so striking about this Hebrew word is that its meaning is “leaving a mark, or to make an impact.”

Even as I write this phrase, energy wells up inside of me, there is a deep desire to impact relationships around me in this world, to move others in a deep way.
This is why, so often, figures in movies are so inspiring to us. Men are drawn to men of courage who willingly go to war, superheroes, successful businessmen, even friends and family because these men have made such an important impact in others’ lives.

So the question then remains, “how do we get men more engaged in the church?” Below are three opinions that I have:

1. Shift formats of programing from consumer-centric to collaboration-centric.
Passivity increases from the ease of consumption. Yet, collaboration calls men into sharing with other men in the impact of others. We are training men how to love again. Which is their truest design.

2. Normalize the fear – remind men of their identity.
This world is terrifying. We feel inadequate to the call. This is okay! Fear is not the issue, and it is normal to feel the fear. If there was no fear, there would be no need for courage. Fear highlights our need for a Savior, not to suck it up and try harder. As we address the fear, speak it as reality, we can then be reminded of the truth. If He made us this way, we can truly impact our world by His strength.

3. Slow, Small, Steady.
I had a friend once remind me of the discipleship style of Jesus. He chose 12 men to follow him for three years. He invited these men into his life. He lived with them, taught them, laughed with them, and guided them to godliness. It was not a large event. It was not quick. But it was effective. He taught men how to impact others through sharing his impact with others.
I believe men will be engaged again because the Spirit is stirring the desire in men’s hearts to be who they were created to be. If hell is the suffering of being unable to love, Heaven is the joy of loving unrestrained.

Counselor in Biblical Life Ministry

“For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate… Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Romans 7:15-24

It might seem odd to you, but this might be my favorite passage in scripture. Let me share with you why this is.

In this section of his letter to the Romans, Paul lets us into his heart. Despite the profound knowledge he shares in this letter, he is not performative and cold. He could easily keep his authority, his pedigree (see Philippians 3:4-6), or his insight (see 2 Corinthians 12:1-5) at the forefront of his writing. Yet, he peels back the layer of his heart, showing weakness and confusion. This is not the only letter he does this (see also 2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

In doing so, he reveals something that I, as a follower of Christ, can relate with – the war that rages on inside.

Sometimes, it feels so jarring that I wonder if two personalities are inside of me. How could it be that these two persons that are so profoundly opposed to each other coexist?

Paul introduces these two persons as the flesh and the Spirit. First, our flesh or our natural self is bound to sin. This sin that, without the law, I would not even know existed. This self is consistently drawn to pleasures of the world and the satisfaction of gratification of self. This is the self that the enemy can so easily manipulate. This is the self that Paul calls us to “put off (Ephesians 4:22-24).”  

Conversely, the self he implores us to “put on” is the Spirit alive in us. “Born-again” does not carry the weight I believe happens when Christ enters us. Maybe we should say “Born-A-New,” for the Spirit that comes into us is new life! If you are a follower of Christ, this is your true self. This is a self that longs to worship God, longs to love, and longs for freedom.

Why do they remain together – and why the battle? Couldn’t we have the Spirit and be done with the flesh? One day this will happen but not yet.

I deeply desire to be done with the war. Yet, I see the war allows two things:

1. The war enables an intimacy with Christ. Jesus is the only human to perfectly fight the battle between the flesh and the Spirit. He was tempted but did not sin. Now we can come to Him and find mercy and grace in a time of need (Hebrews 4:15, 16). If we did not battle and rage inside, we might not feel the need for Him. I’m grateful for the need if only to deeper feel His embrace.
2. The war allows an intimacy with others. It still amazes me that I find commonality in the battle with such a great Christian as Paul. And I believe this commonality is one of the reasons Paul allowed himself to open up the veil to his heart and his struggle. When we share our journey, we can comfort others and find encouragement from others. We do nothing for our fellow humans to continue to show our well-decorated masks. I believe that our collective feelings of isolation and disconnection are tied to this resistance to show what is happening under the surface.

The last thing I’ll say in my fandom of this passage is the turn after the phrase, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” He immediately answers. “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

Through His mercy and grace, I now have the freedom to serve Him. And although the battle rages on, I know that no matter who wins out on that day or in that moment, I am still His.

“If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

Counselor in Biblical Life Ministry

“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him”
– Colossians 2:6

When it comes to life with Jesus, Christians are quick to confess their salvation is wrought by the person and work of Jesus Christ. His bestowing of grace and mercy on them, the underserving. That’s easy for us to believe and confess. And to call non-Christians to see their need for it.

But, we need the Gospel today just as much as we did the moment we believed. As Tim Keller says, “the Gospel is not the ABCs of Christianity; it is the A to Z.” What he means is that the Gospel of grace isn’t merely the ignition, the starting place, but it is the engine that empowers every aspect of our lives with Jesus.

You see, Paul, when writing to the Church in Colossae, one of the things he was seeking was to warn them about the heresy that promised growth, sanctification, and spirituality outside of the Gospel. Not only were they prone to forsake Jesus and return to a works-based religion, but to forsake Jesus and follow the Law as Christians as a mark of their spiritual maturation.

They need to walk in Jesus the same way they received him: by grace.

Our culture’s virtues are quick to sneak their way into our churches and theology. We live in a time, especially in the U.S., of “if you work hard enough, you can achieve anything.” Our individualized, consumeristic, “tie yourself up by your bootstraps and get to work” culture can begin to influence how we view our growth in and commitment to Jesus.

So, I have a couple of reasons for you, follower of Jesus, Christian, why YOU need to hear the Gospel today:

First, we are prone to forget.
We suffer from Gospel Amnesia. When the trials of this world, burdens of life, or ongoing struggle with sin weigh heavy on our souls, they can cause us to forget the Gospel that saved us quickly. We’re no different than Israel in Psalm 106:

“At Horeb, they made a calf and worshiped the cast metal image. They exchanged their glory for the image of a grass-eating ox. They forgot God their Savior, who did great things in Egypt.”
We, too, find ourselves forgetting the good news of God’s generous grace towards weary and broken sinners. If Israel had to be instructed over and over to “remember their God and his wonderous works,” how much more do we need it?

If you’re reading this and losing in an ongoing fight with sin, what you need is to be reminded of Jesus’ mercy towards you and his desire for you to come to him. Jesus isn’t ever tired of extending his invitation of grace towards weary and broken sinners.

If you’re reading this in a season of suffering, what you need is to be reminded of Jesus’ commitment towards you and that he is with you in it, using it to form you deeply.

And if you’re reading this and life is going great, what you need is to fight the urge of self-sufficiency and reliance and to be reminded that Jesus is your life and hope. That every good gift comes from him.

Remind yourself right now of the Gospel.

Secondly, the Gospel is not only the power for salvation but formation.
Our hearts’ tendency is to be like the Colossians – believing that growth can be produced primarily through our means, our works, and our strength. Or our tendency is to believe that God by grace saved us, but now we have got to play our part.

I know because it’s my heart’s most natural heresy. How quick I am to believe that if I do A, B, or C, then growth will happen. How quick I am to believe that if I believe the right thing or make the proper changes to my life, then sanctification will take place. How quick I am to believe that I need to hold up my end of the bargain or God will finally be fed up with me.

As Hebrews 12:2 declares, we need to “look to Jesus, the author (founder) and perfector of our faith.” Jesus isn’t merely the one who inaugurates our faith; he achieves it. But he’s also the one who perfects, shapes, matures, and completes it.

We tend to believe the lie that if we can have the right behavior patterns, or we are growing in theological and doctrinal depth, or have the right ‘kind’ of emotional and spiritual sensory experience, that growth will happen.

Now, these things are all good and are all included in our spiritual growth, but they aren’t what cause formation and growth – real growth goes deeper.

As Dane Ortlund in his book “Deeper” says, “growing in Christ is not centrally improving or adding or experiencing but deepening.” We go deeper into the beauty and depth of the Gospel, in Jesus’ heart and disposition towards sinners, and that’s where the real formation, lasting change happens.

We will not see real depth and growth in our formation to Jesus through a “quick fix,” behavioral modification, or a self-reliant hope in a “trying harder” approach to sanctification. We need our hearts to be ever-captured by Jesus’ heart towards us and seek his face. He promises to transform us as we see him as he really is (2 Cor. 3:18).

My hope in this short article was to help each of us see our need to wake up every day and remind ourselves of Jesus’ steadfast love towards us, to really believe it, and to go deeper in mining the depths of it, and to repeat it the next day until eternity.

The Gospel isn’t merely what saves you, but it is what keeps you. It is what sustains you. It is what will transform you.

Pastor of CollegeLife

Sometimes I rediscover favorite artists' albums and become slightly obsessed with that album for a few weeks. My recent "rediscovery" is Switchfoot's album, "Vice Verses." Jon Foreman has long been one of my favorite lyricists. Each album he writes seems to open the door to a season of his life. And this album feels like it was written for my current stage of life.

Specifically, I am in love with the song "Where I Belong." Here are just a few of the lyrics:

"Feeling like a refugee
Like it don't belong to me
The colors flash across the sky
This air feels strange to me
Feeling like a tragedy
Take a deep breath and close my eyes
One last time
Storms on the wasteland
Dark clouds on the plains again
We were born into the fight
But I'm not sentimental
This skin and bones is a rental
And no one makes it out alive
Until I die, I'll sing these songs
On the shores of Babylon
Still looking for a home
In a world where I belong"

At one point, recently, a close friend looked at me and said, "Matt, you seem restless." He didn't mean fidgety. He saw something in my eyes that felt lost. As we talked, I came to the realization that I keep looking for a home – through friends, my career, even where I live. Somewhere I belong and feel "right."

Yet, the beauty of that conversation was not to identify in this world where I would feel at home, but that it was okay for me to feel – restless. Now, I admit, I do not like this feeling AT ALL. After these past few months, I long, even more so, for a place to be at peace. But, the peace I began to realize was that my "home" is not here. Not of this world.

I think this is why this song grabs my heart. It's like someone else knows this feeling and was courageous enough to write down these words and sing this song. I'm thankful for Jon's courage in that.

I write this to you, dear brother and sister because your restlessness might be good. I want us to consider what we are restless for. Peace? Contentment? To be pain-free? Affirmation? Love? Attention?

We are refugees in a wasteland of this life. We are the Israelites, captive in a foreign land. We are souls wrestling in sinful flesh. And yet, the recognition that we are not yet home can bring us peace.

Let's be honest, if this world was it, that it was all we had to look forward to, we would be in despair. And so many of us feel this way.

Yet, for those in Christ, this is not the end.

Even as I write this, I recognize a pull in me to be at balance. Because, as much as I long for my home, I have to remember that I'm not called to that home… yet. Why? There is something here that I am called into. And for this, I begin to consider my purpose in this world. God, in His divine sovereignty, keeps me in this world – at least for this day. And so, to worship Him, to speak life into another, to plant a seed, I remain here – with you – as the church.

You see, if we have a clearer picture of our true home, we will have a clearer picture of our purpose in this one. We can better understand mission. We can have hope that He is not left us or forsaken us. We will go home – just not yet.

And so – until I die, I'll sing these songs, on the shores of Babylon. Still looking for a home – in a world where I belong.

Counselor in Biblical Life Ministry

Our God is a God who speaks. And this God has made it clear to us that words matter and our tongues have power (James 3:1-12). Over and over in the scriptures, both old and new, we see the exhortations from our God to harness our mouths and how he cautions us about the words we use.

This is such a needed conversation in our current cultural moment because we live in an age where words are easily shared, and opinions are easily known. And while this age, we find ourselves in loves to proclaim the power of words and their consequences, all the while not afraid to quickly speak and offer their “two cents” in any conversation or topic. I think Proverbs 18:13 can describe our current moment, “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.”

We can so quickly begin to give ourselves over to this way of living if we’re not careful as God’s people. We can become more and more conformed to the pattern of this world.

“But that is not the way you learned Christ!” (Ephesians. 4:20).

What if one of the ways Jesus makes us new people is in the way we speak? What if one of the ways that we are made new people is in how we interact with one another? What if one of the ways we image Jesus to a broken world is in our ability to listen rather than speak?

I am preaching to myself in this article in a lot of ways. And the point of this article isn’t to give you the “how-tos” of being better listeners, but more of what being better listeners and humble speakers bring to our world.

Listening Brings Dignity
One of the aspects of Jesus’ interactions with people that astonishes me is how he brought dignity to those he spoke with. I can think of the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4, the shame and condemnation she must’ve felt coming to draw water alone. And how Jesus, through the way he dialogued and listened to her, brought an outcast dignity. Jesus knew everything about this woman, even the deepest pain and sin in her heart, yet did more listening in the conversation than counseling or preaching. Most of John 4 is the woman speaking, not Jesus. And you can see this in many of Jesus’ interactions, an eagerness to listen first before speaking. Even though he knew he was all-knowing and in the right every single time, he chose to honor and dignify the other person more than himself.

Even if we totally disagree with what they have to say, think they are morally wrong, or believe our side is more persuasive, listening to them is loving them well.

Listening Adorns the Gospel
In a world that is quick to speak, being a person who actively listens makes the Gospel more attractive. Being a people who are humble enough to lay our opinions aside and hear out those who may have a different opinion than we do imitates who we say we follow. How counter-cultural would it be if we never sought to be the first to speak in a discussion or debate? What if we didn’t have to tweet out our side regarding some issue or hot topic? It shows the watching world that Jesus really is in the business of making people new. It reveals that we take the power of our tongues seriously and choose to honor Jesus with them rather than the world. It makes us radically different.

Let us be a people who are marked by humility, patience, grace, and self-control. What an apologetic to a watching and dying world longing for dignity, hope, and peace.

Pastor of CollegeLife

As I have wrestled with the concept of grief and my own grieving process, two people have challenged me — Martha and Habakkuk. They are two individuals in the Bible who don't get much mention. So, why these two?

Martha, for one, seems to need someone to stand in her corner regarding her comparison to her sister Mary. I don't want to justify all her actions, but I do want to empathize with her. She gets the claim of "not choosing the better portion," as her sister did. This is true… Mary sat at the feet of Jesus. Martha got angry and brought her complaint to Jesus, and Jesus gently rebuked her.
Yet, she kept coming to Jesus. This is what I want to celebrate in Martha. She was relentless in her pursuit of Him. In John 11, after her brother died, she repeatedly came to Jesus with her complaint and her grievance.

"Now, when Jesus came, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Bethany was near Jerusalem, about two miles off, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them concerning their brother. So when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, but Mary remained seated in the house. Martha said to Jesus, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now, I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you." Jesus said to her, "Your brother will rise again." Martha said to him, "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day." Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he dies, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?" She said to him, "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world."

Not only did she come to Christ as the person to whom had the answers, but she also brought her sister with her.
 
"When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary, saying in private, "The Teacher is here and is calling for you." And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him."


Now, we all grieve in different ways, and we need to respect the process for each person. However, it has always stuck out to me how John writes the difference between the two women. Both women were grieving, but only one continually came to Christ. There is something to be celebrated in Martha's persistence to bring her complaint before the Lord. Not only this, but she chose to return for Mary.

So, what about Habakkuk? In reading Habakkuk, you may notice that he has a similar attitude that we need to consider. First, his letter of prophecy is laid in a way that explicitly outlines his complaint. In Habakkuk's time, the Assyrians had already occupied Israel, and the Babylonians were on the way. The road before Habakkuk and the Israelites was only going to worsen.

We are not the Israelites. Yet, if you read Habakkuk, I can often feel similarities in the grievance he shares. I appreciate this letter because it shows me how grief is not just the loss of a person but also the loss of anything. A job. A move. A way of life. A season of heartache. What a pandemic has taken away…

Habakkuk had every reason to grieve, and I believe we get to witness this grieving process through his prophetic letter. In a Job-like fashion, we get a call and response type interaction between him and God. Yet, as challenging as God's responses are, notice how Habakkuk keeps returning to the Father.

Deeper still, look at the language he uses to seek the answer of the LORD at the beginning of chapter 2!

"I will take my stand at my watchpost
and station myself on the tower,
and look out to see what he will say to me,
and what I will answer concerning my complaint."

Habakkuk shows the unrelenting reliance on God for his answers, even when they don't come at first, even when they don't make sense, even when they hurt. He is not leaning on God for the answers that make him feel good; he is leaning on God for THE answer.

Listen, I know it's been a painful couple of years, where so much has been lost. We have all lost something or someone; I believe it's time we collectively grieve and continue to grieve. Grief has too often been rejected and labeled "bad ." I'd like to reframe grief as good, as needed, as a collective. But, this grief has to be held before Christ to say, "we don't understand, but we want to understand!"

Lord, I believe… Help my unbelief.

We, like Peter, stand upon the waves with eyes fixed on Jesus. Yet, so often, I notice the waves and begin to sink. And often, with Peter, that is what we focus on. "Oh, Peter… he took his eyes off Jesus and sank."

However, first, he stood.
This, at least, is what I want to strive for.
I have grieved a lot in my life. I will continue to grieve more. I know more will come. This world, these years, and all that it holds will continue to offer moments of grief. I'd like to call us into this grief process together.
My friend and mentor Kevin Huggins calls this "Grief Work ." I believe this to be an accurate word choice. It is work, and work can often be hard. But, work can also be extremely rewarding! The paradoxical truth of grief is that joy resides within it. Joy. Not happiness. Happiness comes and goes, but joy is eternal.

Read the close of Habakkuk. May we follow in his and Martha's footsteps as we grieve together at the feet of Christ.

"I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble to come upon people who invade us.
Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places."

Counselor in Biblical Life Ministry

“A voice is heard in Uvalde, lamentation and bitter weeping.
Mothers weeping for their children, refusing to be comforted,
Because they are no more.”

Yesterday, I went to visit my girls, both in 2nd grade, to eat lunch with them. It was the last full day of school, and I wanted to see them at their school, with their friends, enjoying those last moments of the school year—so carefree and fun. As the last days of the school year should be for every child.

Yesterday, at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, I am sure parents went to eat lunch with their kids as well, to celebrate the final week of school. But right around lunchtime, the gunshots began to ring out in one classroom at this school, and minutes later, 19 children and two teachers were dead.

There are, of course, no words that can capture the grief, horror, shock, and evil of this mass shooting. The reports of parents wailing outside the school as they heard the news about their children shook me to my core. This is the deepest grief, the greatest pain—to lose a child and to lose a child in such a senseless and evil act of violence adds another vicious layer of devastation.

As followers of Jesus, we must be at the forefront of praying and asking the Lord to provide deep and felt comfort to the families. We must not become cynical about prayer, even when it can feel so woefully inadequate for the moment. God invites us to pray and to pray on behalf of others, and we know how very present the Lord is to those in the valley of the shadow of death. President Biden quoted Psalm 34:18 last night in his address to the nation— “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”  

There is a reason that the prayer book of the people of Israel, the Psalms, is filled with prayers of lament. Because there is so much in our world to lament and grieve. The Bible shows us the world as it truly is—filled with suffering, pain, and death. There is good, and joy and beauty in the world, and the Bible revels in that as well. Still, from Genesis 3 on, we see an absolute mess of humanity on page after page and a gracious and loving God entering into this very mess with us, to give us real and actual hope in the very midst of it.

But prayer is not all God calls us to. Pray is an action, but it is not meant to replace other actions that may be needed for justice to roll down or for systemic issues to be addressed.

There are many different issues at play within these tragic mass shootings that we have seen in our country over the past 25 years. There is mental health, gun control, family dynamics, online behavior, spiritual oppression, social isolation, and others that help to form the web that is a mass shooting. It is not just one thing, and so there is not just one solution, but there are surely more solutions available to us as a nation to push back against these shootings.

The church is not the state. We do not have the power to pass or enact laws, but that does not mean we should be disengaged from the state or from the issues of our day. We must advocate for policies that create a more just world. The 2nd Amendment to the Constitution takes center stage each time there is a mass shooting and how exactly what the founders intended relates to the personal possession of the types of firearms we have today. That is not for this post.

The 2nd Amendment is important, but it is not as important as the 2nd part of the Great Commandment, to love your neighbor as yourself. Loving others is the controlling ethic of the New Testament, not individual rights. This doesn’t mean that individual rights are unimportant, but that the American insistence on individual rights so often taking precedent over every other consideration is not what the New Testament teaches. What must drive followers of Jesus is the flourishing and well-being of others, and not ourselves. What is it costing you to truly love your neighbor?

So, my encouragement is to pray and pray and pray.
And let love for others be the greatest ethic of your heart and hands.
And don’t give in to cynicism.
And know there is evil in the world that seeks to steal, kill, and destroy.
And weep.
And know America is a good country, but it is not the Kingdom of God.
And pray specifically for deep repentance and revival in our country.
And hope in the Lord.

I was able to tuck my girls in last night. To say a prayer with them. To tickle them. To know they are in the room just down from my wife and mine. 19 sets of parents did not get any of that last night and never will again. So many moms and dads weeping for their children. We weep with them. As does our Lord. It is not all the Lord is asking us, but it the right place to start.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Pastor for Adult Ministries & Teaching

I first fell in love with the blues because of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s second appearance on Austin City Limits. I didn’t know that level of virtuosity existed. Shortly after that, I bought B.B. King’s cd boxset and fell in love for the second time. I was nineteen. Months later, I naively bought tickets to see B.B. at a venue in Memphis. At that point, he was close to 80 years old. But once the tickets came, it was a twenty-one and up entry age. He could play at 80, but I couldn’t attend at nineteen. Having just come to faith in Christ, I chose not to go the fake i.d. route. I crowded under an autumn night sky to see him at World’s Fair Park a few years later. It was the closest I’ve been to a front-row concert of anyone who mattered. I could see Lucille’s sheen when she hit the stage lights just right (Lucille is the name of his guitar). His brass section danced in step, and B.B. sang and played his guts out wearing a cabana shirt. The thrill wasn’t gone from that night.  

What’s the closest to a “front-row” experience you’ve had?

Recently, I’ve been absorbed by the Wedding of Cana (John 2). A front-row experience of Jesus’ first miracle. Jesus, the life of the party. The spiritual and banquet beggary of wine running out. Hints of Genesis – the Father creates, the Son- re-creates. Certainly, this miracle underscores the truest Wine filling earth’s deepest longings. However, I’ve remained gripped for some time over John’s parenthesis. In 2:9, it reads, “the master of the feast…did not know where the wine came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew).” The servants knew.

What is it about these servants, that had a front row to the first miracle of Jesus? The passage doesn’t tell us. It seems to imply that they knew because they were… servants.

To all of us, Moses is most known for moments of grandeur: the burning bush, the Red Sea, being portrayed by actor Charlton Heston, manna, and receiving the Ten Commandments. Yet, in Numbers 12:3, it reads, “now the man Moses was very meek, more than all people who were on the face of the earth.” Later the chapter states that God spoke to Moses mouth to mouth. I believe this is because God called him “my servant” (vs. 7). Moses had been raised as the prince of Egypt, but now he was God’s servant. The sheen from his face would shine from being in the presence of the Lord of Hosts (Exodus 34:29).  

Ten chapters after Jesus’ sommelier moment, Jesus said a kernel of wheat must fall and die before it becomes fruitful (John 12:23). He also taught, “the greatest among you shall be your servant,” as he criticized the religious leaders of the day, for they had been acting as posers at the place of Jewish legal law, called “Moses’ seat” (John 23:3). This doesn’t sound like the Moses above.

Ideas to serve:
•serve your roommate by cleaning your dorm during finals week
•serve your kids by tuning into their hobby you don’t care for
•serve your spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend by the doing the chore they can’t get to
•serve your toddler with extra snuggles
•serve your boss with a card of encouragement thanking them for leading
•serve your subordinates by investing more in them than you ask them to do for you
•serve your aging parents by helping them with the technology that is outpacing them
•serve your teen by letting them play the instrument louder
•serve your friend in a tough spot by baking them muffins or taking them to lunch
•serve your church by volunteering for a role they have trouble filling

The desire we have for a front-row experience, such as a concert, manifests a lower glory on display. It is likely an indicator that our souls really long for greater glory. This greater, water-to-wine-type glory is only drawn and poured by servants, of whom Jesus is foremost.

Pastor of Biblical Life Counseling Ministry

Why do showers and bathtubs need to be cleaned?

The thought obsessed me as a child. One of my early chores was to clean the showers and tub in our house. Why? It made no sense. The core collective of my understanding of cleaning involved two things: hot water and soap. These were the magic elixirs of cleanliness. How could something that had hot water and soap in it every day need cleaning? My mother seemed to be obsessive about it. Much like her nonsense stances like "no BB guns wars" and "don't jump off that cliff into the water," this seemed to be part of her ways where she didn't, or couldn't, understand the logic.

In college, I moved into my first apartment. It was then I began to truly, deeply understand the whole "clean the shower" thing. Not that I didn't before, it was just that I experienced it. The roommate had a different set of priorities than, say, cleanliness. I was convinced the shower was protected by some sort of EPA or National Park edict, like the Everglades or Death Valley. The lifeforms therein were sure to be an advancement of microbiology or provide some form of super antibiotics. The scrubbing. Oh, the scrubbing. (Side note: it became obscenely obvious other guys had not had the education in cleaning that I had.  Dear male college student or young adult- the most important part of the dating relationship you hope to develop with the girl you are seeing is when she sees your apartment for the first time, especially the bathroom. If you thought everything was going fine, she went to the bathroom, got an emergency text from a "friend," rushed out, immediately went to the store, and bought all the products with bleach.)

What do you do when what you thought was the cleanest part of the house is not really the cleanest part? You think about the presumption you had that the "should be clean" part isn't and wasn't. "What made me think that?" is the question of the day. "How did I miss that?"  "Why did I miss that?"

The Gospel asks a question of you. Resolute. Imperious. Its statement over us is that we are filthy and in need of saving. The Holy Spirit's work of showing us the truth of the charges God makes against us is shining a light on the sin of which we know we are guilty. That's the easy part. "Easy?" you ask, "I've struggled with sin 'x' for years!" Of course. It's difficult. But there may be a bigger problem.

Because you don't think you need it.

Consider Paul's words in Philippians 3:7-11. He's just come from discussing all the things that he used to think made him righteous in God's eyes. All his own "goodness," or his Judaism, "cleanliness." In Phil 3:7, he says, "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ." In v8, he calls all the things he clung to before a loss and calls them "rubbish."

What Paul knew, and we struggle with, is the idea that even our goodness isn't good enough for God. God demands perfection from us, and our goodness is just, well, goodness and not perfection. What if you have to repent of your goodness as well? To find everything, even your own goodness, in Christ? A closer inspection will cause us to see that sometimes, our goodness was just to make life easier. Better to be thought of as a "good guy" or "so sweet" lady. Goodness performed is on par with evil. It's not from the heart that treasures right as a reflection of God.

In Christ, our goodness is found IN Him. The good we do is counted as perfect because our hearts are being renewed. We need not force ourselves to be good but examine why our hearts resist. The places we thought were clean may hide more pride than anything else. Remember and believe the Gospel harder when confronted with the place you thought was clean but turned out much worse than you could have imagined. The Gospel came to free us from sin- all of it.

Lead Teaching Pastor

I woke up this morning to a string of texts and emails. In a digital instant, the American population was told in advance of an upcoming landmark decision by the highest court in the land. The leak was unprecedented and deeply troubling all on its own; however, it was not merely a leaked draft that brought people to the front steps of the Supreme Court in protest. It was the decision itself. The draft indicates the court’s intent to overturn Roe V. Wade, the historical case in 1973 that constitutionally protected a woman’s right to an abortion prior to fetal viability.
For many pro-life advocates, this will be seen as a major step in protecting innocent human life from the brutality of abortion. Many have been faithfully praying for this moment for 49 years and counting the 62 million babies who have died along the way. For many pro-choice advocates, this decision will be seen as a move toward fascist tyranny, plunging our country into the patriarchal, enslaving, dark ages. Unfortunately, I do not expect the social media conversation to be reasonable or productive. Expectations of an ideological civil war are trending.

I want to offer three helpful principles.

CHRISTIANS ARE CALLED TO BRING CLARITY
First, we are called to bring clarity to moments of confusion. God commissions us to provide cultural clarity and moral guidance. Many of our friends will understand the trending issue through 15-second sound bites and 30-second TikTok influencers. We must not take the same road. We must reflect the Kingdom of God in our day by helping our community ask the right questions while offering the good and true answers of God’s design. We can lead the conversation around these questions and provide our neighbors with the beautiful, created order of God. His intended ordered world is an invitation to the fullness of life for all children, men, and women.
Culturally, what would an overturn of Roe V. Wade mean? If Roe V. Wade is indeed overturned, it will NOT mean a nationwide ban on abortion. The decision will throw the question of abortion and rights back to each state. We may expect cries for national legislation, state-by-state challenges, and community-based movements intended to keep abortion accessible and easy to obtain. This will mean an ideological battle in each state. Some states have trigger laws intended to severely restrict or ban abortion immediately upon a Court decision to overturn Roe V. Wade. Tennessee is one of those states.
Morally, each state will have to wrestle with two fundamental human questions:

QUESTION #1: What is the unborn?
I put safety latches on all my cabinet doors when I had my daughter. My daughter did not know what dishwashing fluid was or the purpose for which it was made. It would have been catastrophic to allow her to discover the nature of dishwashing fluid by trial and error. Until we know what something is and what it is made for, we do not know what to do with it. Until we know what the unborn are, we cannot possibly know what we should do to them.
The science of embryology gives us a clear answer to this first question. At the earliest stage of development, we were all living, distinct, whole, and human. If you were to walk into my home and see my now 8-year-old daughter’s ultrasound on the refrigerator, you might say something witty like, “She was adorable even then.” The comment would be fitting as we would easily recognize the photo on the fridge as the very same little girl running around my house playing with her dolls.

She was living and not dead at the earliest stage, just as she is now. She was distinct from me, down to her very DNA. She is still distinct. She was whole and in need of nothing externally to develop. She is still whole. Her development needs no additional parts. We do not supply her with hands and feet, constructing her like a Frankenstein. She was human in her first moments of existence, not canine or feline. Yes, she is still human. She was a person, just like me. She is still a person.
There is also no difference between her in the womb and at two years old that would justify killing her then and not now. Yes, she was small, but she was small as a toddler. Yes, she was early in her development in my womb, but she still has some development yet to go, even now. We are looking for her adult molars and anxiously awaiting puberty. Yes, she needed a safe environment and food, but she still needed me at two years to provide her food and keep her safe. She still needs a safe place to grow. Even though it does not belong to her, my home is that place and is owned by me. Yes, she depended on my body as a small embryo, and she is still dependent. Any mother can attest to the bodily labor that we sacrifice for the care of our children. Can I kill her at two years old or even now because my home, time, bodily labor, and stuff belong to me? Can I kill her because I am afraid of what tomorrow may bring as I feel the weight of caring for two people instead of just one?

QUESTION #2: What can we rightfully do to another person?
I am reminded of my first visit to the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia, when I consider this question. I walked into the Rembrandt room and was overwhelmed by the mastery of this 17th-century painter.
Consider a simple question: Who has the right to touch the Rembrandt painting on the wall? Certainly not me, a mere spectator. However, a curator or an art restorer would be allowed to repair or restore the work. They are commissioned to care for the painting. Does anyone have the right to walk into the museum, take the Rembrandt off the wall, and burn it? We may be tempted to think that no one does, but there is one person who has the right to do anything with the painting: Rembrandt himself. He has this right simply because he is the Creator of the masterpiece.
This is what the doctrine of Creation gives our picture of humanity. God alone has the right to give and take life because everything He creates belongs to Him, not us. We have no “right” over another person. We are not allowed to use them for our own purposes, own them as property, or take their life on the altar of our own desires or convenience (Genesis 1-2).

Simply, we do not own what we do not create. I do not own my body. I do not own anyone else’s body. Being created by God is not the only anchor in our understanding of humanity. We are also created in His Image, giving all human life value. With God as the Creator and human people as image-bearers, the mistreatment of another is an affront to God himself.
“Whoever mocks the poor insults his Maker.” – Proverbs 17:5

CHRISTIANS ARE CALLED TO UNDERSTAND THE CULTURAL MOMENT
This historical and biblical understanding of humanity has given us human rights, dignity laws, medical ethics, and moral guidance for generations. When we have eroded this understanding of human life, we have propelled ourselves into all forms of abuse, trafficking, and slavery. Without a transcendentally sacred understanding of human identity, there is nothing left to guide our decisions as a society around equality or fair treatment. One life becomes more important than another because a person can do more, have more, look better, or be in the majority. History is replete with evils perpetrated upon those society has determined as lesser. The first step is always to redefine who qualifies as a worthy human.

In previous generations, we have faced the question of human value and dignity. The people of God did not only listen to the conversation or just participate in the conversation. His Church has always been known as those who LEAD the conversation and model the way of Jesus.
Our image-bearing lives are intended to reflect His glorious goodness in the world. He placed his work of art (our world) into our stewardship. Much like a curator or art restorer, he has commissioned us to shape and create the world and the people around us to be repaired and restored to the original design. We are not meant to be spectators of one other in an isolated existence of voyeuristic living. We are meant to be curators and restorers. We must be committed to learning His original design and how we can winsomely bring it to our cultural moment.

CHRISTIANS ARE CALLED TO MODEL THE WAY OF JESUS
If Roe V. Wade is indeed overturned, we have the momentous opportunity to serve women in crisis, women in pain, children in need of homes, and policymakers at every level. Pregnancy centers, adoption services, post-abortive healing work, and overrun foster care systems become the front lines to model the Kingdom of God in the flesh. We must be generous with our time, resources, and very lives. We must bring grace, forgiveness, healing, and truth to this moment.
Today, my prayer is that God will call, equip, and empower His children to bring a better way to our friends and neighbors, calling them home to the good Creator, King, and Father. If you would like to learn more about the biblical case for life, visit https://prolifetraining.com/ . The work of Scott Klusendorf has been an invaluable resource for my own training. To become part of our community, equipping believers to bring the Gospel of Jesus to this cultural moment, please contact Stacie Johnson at sjohnson@fellowshipknox.org.

Former Pastor of Equipping & Worldview Formation

Why does God allow us to stay in a place of suffering for extended periods of time? Is God good? Is it about my sin, or is something else going on? Does he even care or hear me? These are just a portion of the questions we continually ask as we face the most difficult aspects of this world. Death. Loss. Pain. Grief. Unwanted desires. Unmet expectation. Unfairness. All feel more than we can ever bear.

As a man who has both suffered and sat with the suffering, I wrestle with these questions.

As one might notice from time spent with me, I often ponder songs and their meaning. Songs seem to capture the essence of a thought with the weight of the emotion. Recently I have been captured by the simple phrase of one written by Taylor Leonhardt and Jess Ray of Mission House. The song is called "Take Heart." In the bridge, the words are written as such:

Our joy is born in labored pains
Love suffers long, but not in vain

This counter-cultural message strikes at my heart and understanding of joy. As one who has experienced the birth of my children, but not the pain of childbirth, I can say I do not fully understand the pain-to-joy relationship that my wife has experienced. But I have seen it. I have seen the light immitted from my wife when those children were placed on her chest after hours of anguish. I saw deep, unrestrained, and unfiltered love come from my wife to those beautiful children.

This topic seems too lofty for me. Even in my experience sitting with those who have suffered and suffering myself, I find myself becoming too simplistic in my writing—almost feeling insensitive in attempts to connect dots of suffering and joy.

Yet, through that fear, I find myself being drawn to a passage in 2 Corinthians. Paul comments that suffering has a unique purpose in the life of a follower of Christ.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.

We often go to the comfort of this passage, but maybe not as quickly to the calling of empathy towards another. "For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation…"

Empathy is born through suffering. Sympathy and pity can be given by witnessing the pain of another. But real empathy sits in the intimate knowledge of the pain. If you have ever experienced the opportunity to comfort another in their affliction, you will hopefully understand these next sentences. To share empathy with another produces joy in you. To share empathy with another shows love to the person suffering. Empathy is not a one-time act. It is a long road of "withness" with one who is suffering.

Love is a long road.

I cannot fully answer the questions posed at the beginning. I still have so many questions. What I can say is that long-suffering produces a love that is not in vain if one will use their suffering for the good of another.

If love is a long road, then the valley's road is a road of love. I deeply believe that the truest of loves happen in the valley. May we see the call ahead of us, and may we take the road less traveled.

Counselor in Biblical Life Ministry