Everything about our country would be wonderful if it weren’t for those awful sinners.

Ever felt like that? It’s an easy assumption. Until we read Luke 13:6-9. I didn’t plan to blog on this subject, but my personal Bible study changed my mind. When Jesus tells a story and includes manure in it, it does make you think.

Anyway, this brief parable is worth some consideration. A man gets upset because his fig tree won’t bear fruit, and he tells the vinedresser to chop it down. But the vinedresser persuades the man to let him dig around the tree and fertilize it – and to wait one more year before he gives it the ax.

What’s going on in Christ’s story? In the immediate context, God’s people need to repent before they experience God’s judgment. Read it for yourself. It’s quite striking. Maybe we’re not used to illustrations so down-to-earth.

I’ll never forget what I was taught by an older pastor years ago: “When the plain sense of Scripture makes common sense, seek no other sense.” It’s a great rule of thumb for Bible study. It means that we should always accept a Bible passage at face value, unless the Bible itself demands otherwise. So, when it comes to understanding the meaning of words – these or any others in the Bible – the ordinary, the usual, and the literal is the best place to start.

Common sense. The Bible calls us to common sense. Folks in the South used to refer to common sense as “horse sense” in my neck of the woods. I still like that colloquial term, and it still fits when you and I take up God’s Word: We need horse sense!

The parable’s setting includes a vineyard, a fig tree, and an anticipated fruit harvest. All three should have been recognizable from the Old Testament Scriptures: 1. a vineyard, as a metaphor for God’s people (Isaiah 5:1-7); 2. a fig tree, also as a metaphor for God’s people (Micah 7:1); and 3. the expectation of fruit, which we see clearly in both. Back then, it was common to plant fig trees in vineyards, as grapes were grown on fig trees to support the vines.

We find the parable’s context in the chapter’s first few verses, where Jesus is told of a tragedy that must have taken place while He wasn’t around. We don’t know the details, except that Pilate killed some Galileans while they were offering their temple sacrifices. Maybe the victims were rebels, but we don’t know. What we do know is that Jesus knew that those who were telling Him this story were assuming that these Galileans had been judged by God for being particularly bad sinners. This was a common assumption among many people back then, particularly the religious types, an assumption shared by Jesus’ disciples – as evidenced in the account of the man born blind (John 9:1-3). Everyone in town assumed that something as awful as being born blind must be the result of some terrible sin on somebody’s part.

You and I are a lot like the people wanting to establish an immediate cause-and-effect relationship between the trouble of blindness and somebody’s else’s sin. Truth is, friends: We’re just not too skillful when it comes to identifying the problem when we look in the mirror. Surely I am never part of what’s wrong with the world!

It’s very dangerous to assume that somebody else “has it comin’ to ‘em.” Remarkably, Jesus adds another example of tragedy and makes His powerful point a second time: “Do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others? … No, I tell you, no; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”

I think that Jesus is confronting the same self-righteousness that He later challenges in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:10-14): “… For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Hmmm. I’m the one being called to humility. Moi. That’s the point. My concern should never be whether or not somebody else gets humbled. It’s my pride that’s the biggest problem. Back to the spreading of the manure in the pungent story told by Jesus, the vinedresser knew just what to do to enrich the soil – and I’m so grateful that God’s disposition toward us is the epitome of longsuffering. But, if you’ll allow me to apply the text personally for a moment, it’s my sin that stinks to high heaven.

As the Apostle Paul, quite directly, later asks the Roman Christians (2:4): “Do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” How easy it is for all of us, friends, to take for granted the patience of God! Let’s not do that.

This may sound crude, and perhaps it should: The manure has been spread, y’all. In a very earthy illustration, Jesus reminds us that He expects our lives to bear the fruit of His Spirit. Christ has saved us by His grace alone, through faith alone, but genuine faith produces fruit – including the fruit of repentance.

Today is a great day for us to recognize how readily – automatically, in fact – we see others as worse sinners than we. It’s quite natural to deceive ourselves in this way. It even feels good, temporarily. But our Lord Jesus will tolerate no such pride! (Isn’t it always easier to notice someone else’s pride?) The Apostle Peter warns us all (4:17): “For it is time for judgment to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God?” The best thing you and I could do today is repent.

None of us knows when our days on Earth are complete, so we must be ready at any moment. This is why Jesus calls us to have humble hearts before Him. You and I must admit that we deserve God’s judgment as much as anybody else.

Even those people.

Ah, the wonder of Christ’s grace. Here’s some horse sense: When it comes to my sin, grace is the only thing that makes any sense at all.

Pastor Charles

Does your Christian life make you feel like you’re fighting a losing battle?If it does, you’re not alone. You are so not alone.

Fellow pilgrims, the narrow way can be brutal. Our God is doing big things in us! To ready us for eternity, He is transforming us from the inside out. Such wondrous developmemnts of character and grit are seldom accomplished without blood, sweat, and tears.

So here’s a question: Is a battle a victory only when it’s won? My short answer to that question is a robust “No!” And if you’re reading, and feeling quite weary in the battle today, consider this the whisper in your ear that you’ve needed in order to press on.

You see, in God’s economy, our noble failures can be far more more redemptive than our obvious successes. It is in the temporal losses of this life that you and I come to understand that to fight with all we’ve got is where the real you and the real me is forged. Like diamonds, we’re made strongest, and we shine brightest, after waves of intense heat and relentless pressure.

I contend that it’s not as much about victory on the battlefield as it is about victory in us, what might be described as our learning to stay true to who we are — who we’re called to be in Christ — all the way to the end. That’s called perseverance, and it’s of inestimable value.

Let’s face the facts. The Lord calls us to difficult — sometimes ridiculously difficult — assignments. Oftentimes, humanly speaking at least, the odds of our success are laughable. Tried forgiving the unforgivable recently?

Life is full of “losing battles,” we must admit, but that should never deter us from our mission. The victory department is not our department, but God’s.

How do you and I fight a losing battle without losing all hope? We remember whose we are. When the deck seems stacked against us, and when the attacks and the opposition seem insurmountable, Christ stirs something deep within us until we find ourselves rising above fear and anguish with an inexplicable desire to stand! To stand firm to the end.

Each and every child of God will experience moments, if not protracted seasons, of crippling despair. These are hard but necessary segments of our journey. We see an enemy’s cold hand stretched out to destroy us mercilessly, but — instead of taking the easy way of surrender — we grab our sword and strike back! When our armor is God’s, you see, it really doesn’t matter if we “succeed” or not.

The places of desperate danger are where you and I are being trained not just to survive, but to thrive. But we must lift our eyes.

In the Hall of Faith recorded in Hebrews 11, God’s Word recalls our broader and deeper history among His beloved covenant people, who “through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice … stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire.” They “escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign enemies to flight.” Spiritually speaking, you and I are descended from those who were “tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking … and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword.”

Apart from that, it was all fun and games.

In his unique style, G.K. Chesterton (1874 – 1936) offers us this word of encouragement: “The one perfectly divine thing, the one glimpse of God’s paradise given on earth, is to fight a losing battle — and not lose it.”

Strangely but wonderfully, when God is in it, to lose is to win.

Friends, an enduring faith in our risen Lord Jesus Christ is the ultimate victory — whether or not we evade all the bullets for now.

For the tomb is empty, and we have won.

Pastor Charles

“I wouldn’t give you two cents for all your fancy rules if, behind them, they didn’t have a little bit of plain, ordinary, everyday kindness and a little looking out for the other fella, too.” — Senator Jefferson Smith (Jimmy Stewart) in “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” (1939)

“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise and serpents and innocent as doves.” — Jesus (Matthew 10:16)

I’m no expert on international relations, but I do recognize how difficult it is for Christ followers to “set our minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Colossians 3:2). A thorough, Christ-exalting worldview isn’t easy to maintain, as it’s far easier to let ourselves be shaped by cultural winds and political jargon. So it’s always a good idea to remind ourselves of some of the central truths which ought to shape our understanding of issues as critical as those we see presently on the world stage.

For what it’s worth, I’d like to offer my pastoral perspective on a few of these matters. These aren’t meant as critique on any level, but are intended as food for thought, that the church may function as salt and light (Matthew 5:13-16) – just as you and I’ve been called to live faithfully in every season.

1. An honest look at American history reveals that we’ve been shaped by a somewhat unique understanding of human nature. I trace this back to our Judeo-Christian heritage. At its core, this includes a commitment to personal freedom as a God-given and intrinsic right – see the Declaration of Independence (1776) – with an understanding that freedom doesn’t come to any people without sweat and sacrifice. This foundational principle shaped the self-understanding of God’s people from the days of Moses and the Exodus, and found its way into our nation’s founding principles of self-government.

2. America’s longstanding commitment to order ourselves by way of a constitutional republic, housing three distinct yet interdependent branches of government, has stood the test of time at least in part because we inherited a realistic assessment of the human proclivity toward sin and selfishness. Given half a chance, I’ll enjoy my liberty while trampling over yours. Thus we’ve upheld wisely the need for checks and balances in government. You might say that the Bible’s clear description of our sin nature made its way into our American framework, and – despite our getting it wrong more than once – this has served us well.

3. As a nation, we have moral responsibilities to protect ourselves and our allies, but we’ve learned the hard way – I hope – that money, resources, and “democracy” on paper are insufficient to promote human flourishing in other parts of the world. Though the ideals may be noble, where there is a commitment to Islamic authoritarianism, there is de facto a drastically different and entirely antagonistic theological underpinning. In their basic presuppositions, our Founders were absolutely correct: freedom can’t be generated by government; it comes directly from God.

4. Our Judeo-Christian ethic reminds us never to lose sight of the truth about how lives are changed. External changes of behavior are of limited value; what God desires for us is a change of heart – change from the inside out – which only He can accomplish (Deuteronomy 30:6; Ezekiel 36:26). And the gospel of Jesus underscores this reality even more fundamentally: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). We who know the Lord, the “ambassadors of Christ” according to the Scriptures (2 Corinthians 5:20), know that true freedom comes only to transformed people – people to whom God has freely given a brand-new nature, and who are no longer defined by sin. Ultimately, you and I can’t look to politics to fix anybody.

5. The glorious and exhilarating “ministry of reconciliation” to which you and I have now been called, in our risen and reigning Christ (2 Corinthians 5:18-19), propels us forward to a life of humble service – despite our occasional or even regular frustrations stemming from widespread human depravity. We don’t hurl insults from the sidelines, but we pray for those in positions of power to be visited with wisdom from on high (1 Timothy 2:1-4). Our God is able, always.

6. Nor do we lose hope, sisters and brothers. We serve the great God who rescued the slaves in Egypt, and today our gracious Father is no less committed to the sanctity of all human life. Terrorism, totalitarianism, human trafficking – and other godless, lawless ideologies – may appear to be winning in many parts of the world, but not one of these will triumph in the end. This is God’s world. So you and I will speak the good news of Christ into every dimension of the brokenness that permeates Planet Earth, trusting our Sovereign Lord – often in spite of us – to do spectacular things for His own praise and glory (Matthew 28:18-20; Ephesians 3:20-21)!

7. So we who are blessed to run our race as the hands and feet of Christ must fix our eyes firmly on Him, “the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:1-2). In 1834, Edward Mote of England penned hymn lyrics still capable of stirring our exhausted and anxious hearts from apathy to action … “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness; I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name. On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand: all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.”

Pastor Charles

I finally went back to church.

We live and work in the Nashville area, and absolutely love it. Eileen and I have been blessed to live and minister from the East Coast to the West Coast, and nearly back again. We’ve enjoyed every place we’ve lived and served Christ, and we’ve loved the people the Lord has given us to embrace. That’s the adult part of my life. So I have a multifaceted answer to the frequent question, “Where ya from?”

The kid part of my life is no simpler. When people ask me where I grew up, I don’t find it any easier to answer. My childhood stretched from Texas to New Jersey, you see. My family put down important roots in more than one part of the country, so my answer usually takes longer than it takes to say, “City X.” I guess you could conclude that I’m from nowhere, and I’m from everywhere, all at the same time.

I’m a two-time graduate of the University of Kentucky with a particular affinity for the Bluegrass Region, but my school-age years included Grades 4 through 10 in Georgia. Last week, I went back to Moultrie, Georgia.

In some ways, going back was a surreal experience. Though nearly half a century has passed since I lived there, the depth of the powerful memories and cherished relationships was overwhelming. As long as I live, my friends “below the gnat line” will matter to me, for they were a critical part of my personal and spiritual formation. God used them to lay at least some of the bricks that were foundational to my self-understanding. These dear people helped me become the man I am.

Yes, I finally went back to church. I went back to my childhood church, which you see in this photo.

It’s a one-of-a-kind place in my estimation, as it housed the remarkable community of faith that painstakingly taught me hymns, Bible stories, and all the words of the Apostles’ Creed. Why do those early memories still hold such monumental significance in my heart? Because they’re some of my first recollections of being drawn into relationship with the living God!

As I’m still unpacking all my feelings, and reliving my past, here’s what I’m discovering. As I was growing up, my family’s need to relocate more than once meant that we we became soul-level accustomed to uprooting our lives and adjusting to new people, places, and circumstances. For me, that meant that most everything felt subject to change: house, neighborhood, school, church, friends, regional peculiarities … change became the constant companion of my childhood.

Though change can be more than a bit unsettling, God can use it for His glory and our good. Looking back, I consider my roots a unique smorgasbord of wonderful people, places, and cultures that helped shape and mature me. I’m grateful for my roots, difficult as they may have been to navigate at times, and difficult as they may be to describe in a single sentence.

But here’s the more beautiful part. The constant uprooting that I associate with my childhood has made me even more appreciative of the unshakable rootedness that is mine in Jesus Christ. I was a child when He first captured my attention in the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. That story first came alive to me in the church in South Georgia, in the children’s choir, when and where God used Mrs. Gammage as His conduit of grace and truth.

I know now that the God who stepped into the fiery furnace with Daniel’s friends has never abandoned me. Through every trial and through every transition, He who is “the same yesterday, today, and forever” remained. Every day, every place, every circumstance.

Christ has rooted me in Himself. Through His Word, through His people, and by His Spirit, He has held me fast, every step of the way. My ultimate security is in Him alone.

For those of us who are the Lord’s redeemed, our firm foundation is more than our past experiences, but our past experiences have served as some of the tools which our faithful God has used to solidify our comprehension of our permanent identity in Christ.

Though I don’t understand them all, I’m humbly grateful for each twist and turn in the road that has marked my journey. For I have roots that are strong enough and deep enough to endure forever. “Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving” (Colossians 2:6-7).

I once was lost, but now am found.

Pastor Charles

Were I to die unexpectedly, and my Spotify playlist to be discovered, what in the world would they think of me?

I mean, there’s everything on there from Michael W. Smith to Toto to Aretha Franklin to Electric Light Orchestra to Frank Sinatra to Lionel Richie to Alabama. From country to classical, and most everything in between.

Eclectic? Yes. Entertaining? Yes. Unpredictable? Yes! Highly. Hundreds of songs that I totally enjoy, with no apparent rhyme or reason. Except …

There is rhyme and there is reason.

As I think about it, each and every song – and there are hundreds on my playlist – is closely attached to an impactful and usually enjoyable moment in my life. For most of the tunes, I can articulate why the song is important to me, and I can tell you where I was and who I was with when I first liked that song. Even when the memory isn’t altogether enjoyable, the moment when I first liked the song was a moment in my life that mattered – and still matters – to me. And so, each song still matters to me. And I still listen and sing along.

For example … “Shower the People” by James Taylor. It’s on my playlist. When I was a kid, my cousin Dona had the “In the Pocket” album, which she played incessantly. Years later, after she became a mom of two, on a Labor Day weekend, Dona was killed in a tragic equestrian accident. I still miss her smiling face (to steal more of James’s thunder), and “Shower the People” always reminds me of my irreplaceable cousin – who was, by the way, very good at “showering the people she loved with love.”

Every one of my songs speaks a powerful memory. I’d fight you if you tried to remove a one of them from my list. They’re my songs. But they’re also something more. They’re windows into my soul, and they expose my deepest longings. More precisely, in fact, they expose one longing above all others: my deepest longing.

C.S. Lewis summarized the phenomenon like this: “These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire … for they are not the thing itself. They are only a scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.”

I’m longing for that country. That’s not fatalistic or pessimistic – but optimistic! I’m following in Abraham’s footsteps … “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:8-10).

You and I are following the in the footsteps of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob because we’re following in the footsteps of faith … “For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland … they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city” (Hebrews 11:14-16).

Thankfully, we don’t walk these steps of faith alone. We walk with the One who went before us – our faithful Shepherd who knows exactly what’s over the next hill. And when your scout is as competent as Christ, you don’t have to worry about the peculiar camp that lies ahead. But you can long for it, because it’s going to be far more spectacular than you and I could ever imagine! Our Lord has marked the perfect spot, and soon we’ll soon join Him there by the campfire.

In Christ, we can look expectantly and excitedly toward our ultimate home, because our exalted Jesus is the trailblazer par excellence! Because Christ willingly and sacrificially stepped into the line of fire on our behalf, and suffered the death penalty that we rightfully deserved, He has now stepped ahead of us into the next world. And, because Christ is there, risen and victorious, you and I can step confidently right up to the throne of the living God – right now – and bask in His mercy and grace (Hebrews 4:16).

When your song plays, enjoy the moment … but never forget the ultimate longing behind it. The delights of Paradise have been secured for us!

Remind me in my sufferings, Lord.

Remind me in my delights.

Remind me in my wildest dreams …

My deepest craving will never be met here, but only in the life to come. The songs in my ear, and in my heart, reverberate a foretaste of Heaven – where You, Lord, will make all things new.

Pastor Charles

“He has also set eternity in the human heart …” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

One summer’s day in 1647, in Paris, René Descartes, one of the best-known voices in the history of western philosophy – and the man who coined the phrase, “I think, therefore I am” – paid an important visit to a 24-year-old fellow mathematician who’d arrived recently in the city. The newcomer was Blaise Pascal, who was nothing short of a genius. Although the two men started on good terms, within a few years they’d taken polar opposite paths.

Mr. Descartes staked his intellectual claim, and in fact his entire life, on human reason and its ability to explain everything that matters. Mr. Pascal became persuaded that human rationality was fatally flawed by the Fall, and that ultimate truth could be found in none other than the historic Christian faith. Blaise Pascal faced serious illness and died before his fortieth birthday. One November night in 1654, eight years before his death, Pascal experienced a profound encounter with the living God, which turned his rather distant and arid view of the Sovereign into a gripping and profound devotion to Jesus Christ.

Among many other things written by Blaise Pascal, I’ll share one captivating quote: “Make religion attractive, make good men wish it were true, and then show that it is. Worthy of reverence because it really understands human nature. Attractive because it promises true good.”

As I think about Pascal’s challenge to us, embodied in those lines, I recognize how much it still fits the spiritual climate of our day. I would submit to you that we – as a culture, and as a civilization – are also drowning in a secularism that has failed to deliver. But I would also submit to you my belief that people are becoming disenchanted with a worldview which relegates God to the fringes of our human experience.

I believe that people are waking up from a dead sleep.

As I interact with people post-pandemic, I find – particularly among younger adults – a renewed sense of openness toward metaphysical reality. It seems that personal autonomy – as in, “I can chart my own course” – has not provided the happiness that was expected of it. The slogan, “No Rules, Just Right” may have worked well for Outback, but it hasn’t panned out well for sex, and many who’ve tried it are struggling with loneliness and anxiety.

And some are struggling with God. My friend, Greg Koukl, says: “You feel guilty because you are guilty.” Sadly, it’s true. Every person we know has done something wrong, and the conscience is hard to suppress. For some, their sin is so fresh in their minds that it feels like a horror movie on replay. They’re consumed with remorse, but don’t know what to do with it. People burdened by shame need to hear from us the truth: Jesus forgives sinners! “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).” For any of us, it just doesn’t get any sweeter.

And I must mention a rampant, Ecclesiastes-like sense of meaninglessness that’s undeniable. People are reporting a vacuum of the soul that no amount of human philosophy can erase or cover. Are some of these people still skeptical when it comes to the claims of the Scriptures? Yes, absolutely yes. But I do believe that we have a unique opportunity to speak into this widespread void of meaning and purpose. The people around us struggle with the reality of human brokenness and suffering. They have an innate longing to see the world restored and made right, but have no idea how that could ever happen. But you and I know. The day is coming when our risen, reigning Christ will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

But we must do more than speak. This is a great moment in history to open our doors, literally, to people who aren’t quite ready to take us up on an invitation to church. (There are many in that category right now.) In our homes, in rather simple ways, we can help people satisfy their hunger for acceptance and community. The type of “event” that we choose to host isn’t nearly as important as our genuine attempt to foster edifying relationships with our neighbors. Think of it as pre-evangelism if you wish, but this kind of hospitality is central to our kingdom influence in 2025. Let’s create an environment where real conversations about the real Christ can be ongoing as our relationships mature and strengthen.

Because God has called us into His story – the ultimate life-giving story – and called us to share His story with others, genuine awakening happens at the pace of genuine friendship. Beloved, right now matters for eternity.

Never forget the hope in Christ that is yours to share. You’re an embodied apologetic. You’re a living defense of the good news. As you pass along to others the core tenets of our faith, you help people confront their feelings of aimlessness and insecurity. In a real sense, without Jesus, we all struggle with those things. We all need a purpose and a mission that’s above and beyond us. One that isn’t generated by us, but given to us by our Creator. We all crave that identity.

Throughout his teachings, the Apostle Paul describes our conversion to Christ as a complete change of identity. Now, firmly in Christ, you and I are no longer who we were! Instead, we have “put on” a brand-new self, and we have been made a “new creation” in our Lord Jesus (Colossians 3:1-15; 2 Corinthians 5:17). Our old way of life has died, friends, and the Bible describes us as “hidden with Christ in God.” As the outworking of our marvelous union with Christ, we ought to live in a way that’s consistent with our new nature – evidenced by our compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, forgiveness, and love. Even when we sin, which we do with regularity, our story isn’t over – because it’s a story of totally undeserved grace. Such an other-worldly lifestyle brings Christ’s unique peace into our lives and our orbit.

As more and more people are awakened from a dead sleep, and recognize the nihilistic emptiness of secular humanism, may you and I be there with the hope of Christ’s glorious gospel. We have a great story to tell – the best in the world – and the best part about our story is that it’s absolutely true! The tomb is still empty!

I’m wide-eyed with you.

Pastor Charles

I’m seeing a lot of strong public comments being made by which professing Christians are impugning the character of others. The divisions seem to run so deep that we’re talking over each other … and around each other …  but not with each other. We’re not all going to agree on politics, nor should we – I guess that goes without saying – but I’d like to devote some time and energy today to the broad subject of how we view and relate to government.

I’m speaking directly to my fellow Christ follower now. Until our Perfect King Jesus returns – and the kingdoms of this world become the kingdom of Christ in the fullest sense (Revelation 11:15) – you and I are dual citizens. We’re citizens of the common kingdom, which includes everyone, but we’re also citizens of the redemptive kingdom – the kingdom of God. One day these kingdoms will be united as one, but for now we in Christ’s Church are dual citizens – though our highest loyalty is to the kingdom of God (Philippians 3:20).

We know from the Scriptures that, as believers, our posture toward the state should be one of subjection (Romans 13:1-7). God alone put the state into rightful authority, and our subjection to the government is an act of worship in the sense that we fear the Lord first. So it’s our reverence for Christ which leads us to “render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s” (Matthew 22:21) by way of respecting the law and paying our taxes and other debts. We humbly recognize that government exists for our benefit as it promotes societal order. It’s one of the many reasons why we respect and pray for those in authority over us (First Timothy 2:1-2). When Jesus returns, “the government will be upon His shoulders” (Isaiah 9:6). Until that Day, we’ll live under imperfect forms of government and imperfect leaders. Charity is required.

But there were times when the same Paul who insisted on our humble submission in general demonstrated the appropriateness of understanding and invoking one’s own legal rights. In Acts 16:16-40, Paul and Silas were accused of crimes by slaveowners whose income they’d gutted by freeing a fortune-teller from demon possession. The men stirred up a lynch mob, and Paul and Silas were beaten severely. Paul was a Roman citizen, a privilege enjoyed by less than 10% of the empire’s populace. Among a citizen’s rights were freedom from beatings without trial, but Paul had to stand up for himself in order to be treated with any modicum of decency. Years later, Paul averted a flogging by insisting that his civil rights be respected (Acts 22:22-29). Two years later, Paul was a prisoner at Caesarea, facing an unjust trial before the Jewish high court. To avert a prejudicial tribunal, Paul again demanded his due process (Acts 25:1-12).

We in these United States have been blessed with “certain unalienable rights” with which we have been “endowed by our Creator” – to quote the Declaration of Independence. Our Bill of Rights expressly tells the government what it cannot do, as our Constitution purposefully limits government to specified powers. Historically speaking, we enjoy unique freedoms in America. These liberties include, thankfully, our right to unhindered religious belief and worship (please note: both). As I’ve said many times, the best way to protect a freedom is to exercise it.

When infringements of rights go unchallenged, governments are de facto emboldened to push the envelope until the rights are eroded. The sad legacy of human government has been that ambitious and self-absorbed rulers, gripped by the lust for power, have gained more and more control over the people. This saying is not original with me, but it always fits: “Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.”

Whether we’re discussing government, or politics, or any other sphere of life, you and I – just like the Apostle Paul – are called to a ministry of love and truth. Friends, “grace and truth” are never an either-or, but they’re always a both-and (John 1:14).

So how do we who straddle two worlds love our neighbor – including our fellow follower of Christ – for such a time as this? I’ll offer four suggestions.

1. Keep yourself informed. Many of the issues in the public square are complex and nuanced, and they can’t be reduced to simple soundbites without obscuring the truth. At times throughout His earthly ministry, Jesus wore His lawyer hat. When He argued that the disciples were free to pick grain on the Sabbath, when He defended the adulterous woman, and at other critical moments, Jesus insightfully applied the law to uphold justice, to promote goodwill among people, and to spotlight the grace of God. If ever you and I needed godly wisdom, we need it now.

2. Be a model citizen. To live consistently as such citizens, you and I need constant fellowship with our Lord. Unless we stick close to Christ and stay in His Word, we’ll be blind to our own idolatry – political and otherwise. Good citizenship is part of good discipleship, and humble but vital engagement with our legal system can play a huge role in the health of our communities and in cultivating a context where the gospel can flourish. If I might add, right now especially, a Christlike tone is especially important among those of us who bear Christ’s name.

3. Be willing to get your hands dirty. It’s my conviction that the legal aspects of Jesus’ ministry are widely misunderstood. Surely Christ’s desire is that we His people use the law to secure the rights of others to hear the gospel and be set free from sin, shame, and spiritual darkness. If we’re going to serve others in our Savior’s name, then we’ll have to meet them where they are. Quite frankly, that means moving our influence into the muddiness of broken relationships among suffering image-bearers who might make us uncomfortable – at least at first.

4. Never forget the power of love. It should not be lost on any one of us that, after his most succinct treatise on the believer’s relationship to government, Paul devotes the very next verse to the “debt of love” which you and I owe to all people. The apostle goes on to conclude: “Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:8-10). Love for Christ and others is our secret superpower … our most exquisite tool of influence … and our scheme of greatest impact for the common good.

You and I, because of Jesus, see people through a unique lens. We accept the fact that we’re all fallen and fallible, and desperately in need of grace. We’re needy, one and all. And we look not to the methods and madness of this world to bring ultimate hope to any of us – only Christ’s gospel can do that. Even when politics serves us well between this world and the next, it’s just a temporary fix. But we’re heading in a spectacular direction, as we “look forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:10).

I’ll close by quoting the great theologian, Wynonna: “Love can build a bridge between your heart and mine. Love can build a bridge. Don’t you think it’s time? Don’t you think it’s time?”

Pastor Charles

Something happened 2000 years ago. Not just something, but someone: Jesus of Nazareth.

Since the dawn of human civilization, plenty of people have made plenty of religious claims about life and eternity. Many have claimed to know the secrets to the pathway to God. In and of themselves, these claims are just that: claims. They can’t be proven.

Jesus made unique claims about himself. For example, he professed plainly, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). These claims of divine identity are found in the earliest gospel narratives that nearly all critical scholars acknowledge can be credited to the historical Jesus.

Jesus also claimed divine authority (for example, Mark 2:1-12). We know from multiple passages of Scripture that these claims led eventually to his death. If these claims were false, then Jesus was either deceived or a deceiver. From the historical record, neither seems likely.

Jesus faced head-on the consequences of his claims. In fact, it’s difficult to describe how much injustice and viciousness against him were packed into the last week of Christ’s earthly life. After he was shamefully betrayed, and subsequent to his arrest, our Lord Jesus was pummeled like the ball in a pinball machine – trapped in the cruel space between the corrupt civil and religious authorities. Everyone wanted him dead, but no one wanted his blood on their hands.

They were cowards, one and all. The venomous accusers of Jesus indiscriminately leveled all manner of false accusations against him – from blasphemy to insurrection to terrorism. And, despite any compelling or substantial evidence, credible witnesses, or elements of a real crime, the Son of God was pronounced guilty and sentenced to death.

As Jesus awaited his fate, he was bullied, slapped, spat upon, interrogated, harassed, and beaten to a pulp. The authorities humiliated him at every turn, and stripped him naked. They mocked the claims of his deity, ripping his flesh with a savagery unimaginable, and stabbing a crown of thorns into his head. They wrapped God the Son in a purple robe as they laughed with their vile hatred.

There on Calvary’s lonely cross, none other than God incarnate was brutally executed. The very Light of the world was tortured until his life was eclipsed by the blackest darkness of human sin. On that day, the cosmic forces of evil eked out an apparent victory, as the breath of Love Divine came to a full stop: “It is finished.”

But the story isn’t over …

On Sunday morning, a critical report began to spread. What had started as a respectful visit to Jesus’s tomb resulted in a shocking announcement that would shake the planet: “… the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay’” (Matthew 28:5-6).

Wonder of wonders. Miracle of miracles. The heart of “God with us” was beating again.

One by one, Jesus’s disciples came to the settled conviction that he had risen from the dead, and they kept circulating this incredible news – even at the expense of their own lives. If Jesus wasn’t in fact raised bodily from death to life, they also were either deceived or deceivers. Again, history doesn’t support either option.

So, here we are – you and I – wondering what to do with such claims. Can we really believe this amazing story? Did Jesus really rise from the dead? What in the world can explain the unstoppable movement of Christianity – and the immense blessings that have flowed from it – from Jerusalem to the farthest reaches of human civilization?

The most reasonable possibility is that the story is simply true. Jesus is God. He is the Messiah. He is the Christ. And he did rise from the dead. The whole time, Jesus was telling the truth. And so were those who believed in him.

Friend, you don’t need 100% certainty in order to believe. God can handle your honest questions and doubt. You just need enough faith to come to Jesus as you are right now. Come!

Because, if this story is true, it not only answers our ultimate questions, but it leads to our ultimate joy. God loves us so much that he was willing to die to forgive us and make us his own. What had been “finished” was not Jesus himself, but God’s marvelous plan to rescue and redeem us for eternity.

Not only that, but the good news of Jesus Christ is more than enough to sustain us in our deepest valleys and darkest seasons. Death has lost, and love has won. Not only is Christ’s love inextinguishable, but it transforms us with the ever-increasing hope that we need for the tumultuous times in which we live. The undeserved grace of our risen, living, reigning Christ breathes God’s certainty into our uncertainty.

He’s still breathing. So what will you do with an empty tomb?

Pastor Charles

I was told by the mission team that recently accompanied me to Armenia that this is their favorite photo of me from our trip. I suppose it captures both our purpose and our joy. After all, we traveled to the other side of the world to serve people in Christ’s name – to humble ourselves in love before them in whatever ways would be required. And this would mean getting tired and sweaty and dirty and – at least in my case – covered in the paint that would brighten our playground construction project.

In Romans 1:1, the Apostle Paul self-identifies as “a slave of Jesus Christ.” Most modern English translations employ the word “servant” in that verse, but “doulos” is a strong word used in the Scriptures to describe one who has given up his or her will in service to another. The idea is that the “slave” has surrendered the self-interests that come naturally to us.

In fact, the Bible calls you and me to joyful surrender to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

We’re tempted to read quickly through Paul’s introduction to Romans without feeling the weight of what he’s saying here. This is radical, friends. As a faithful Jew, Paul could lean on his spiritual pedigree or accolades – but he does the very opposite. His mode is full surrender. He leans only on Jesus.

We must remember that the Israelites were descended from a long and awful period of brutal slavery. The often-merciless powers of Egypt ruled over them for 400 years. So to be called a “slave” in any context would have sounded abhorrent in the ears of a Jew, as slavery would have invoked the worst aspects of their history and conjured up their most bitter feelings of shame. So it’s nothing less than shocking that Paul readily embraces this title of “slave,” with all of its implications of servitude and humility. He embraces the title because the attitude accompanying it is essential not only for the preaching of the gospel – as we seek to carry out the Great Commission – but for the foundation of our faith.

Let me say it again: Christianity is, by its very nature, real-life submission to Christ as Lord.

We tend to be drawn to the idea that Christ humbled Himself for us. We like that. That God loves us to the infinite degree is a beautiful truth indeed, and the Cross is our Exhibit A. We tend to find such amazing grace both captivating and stirring, as we should. That Christ would humble Himself and die for me is more than wonderful! Among my highest and greatest thoughts, I know nothing more wonderful than this boundless, undeserved, and reconciling love.

By contrast, we tend to struggle with the notion that our Lord calls us to a life of Christlike sacrifice. That’s often a hard pill to swallow. It’s often the case that, sometimes without even realizing it, we’re balking at the responsibility that is ours to take on the identity of one who is truly “in Christ” – the identity of one who is truly trusting in Christ. Whether we know it or not, we’re pushing back against the reality that we’re no longer the proverbial master of the ship. We’re no longer in control. There is a boss, but He’s not us. In fact, it’s no longer about us. Such a redefinition of ourselves – in our own stubborn thinking – doesn’t usually happen overnight. Dying to self tends to be a slow death.

Let’s face it: it’s not easy to wrestle our old prideful nature to the ground. On our own, we’re powerless to do it. But, filled with the Spirit of the risen Christ – this is the magnificence of the rest of Paul’s letter to the Romans – we’re steered toward embracing our new and far better identity in Jesus.

You see, what makes us happy isn’t nearly as important as what makes us holy. But the truth is that, where Jesus Christ is Lord, happiness and holiness are no longer enemies. In fact, the greatest joy we’ll ever know or experience is our surrender to the Master who loved us enough to purchase us by the shedding of His own blood.

Friends, independence is vastly and desperately overrated. The happiness that you and I are craving is found in Christ-dependence. Our sense of “independence” can be sinful rebellion in disguise, but surrender is where our hearts can truly soar with a delight that only a child of God can understand! Our restless souls find this a bit counterintuitive, but our surrender is the ultimate way of peace and satisfaction.

Are we willing to surrender? This is the million-dollar question that we must answer. And only a Sovereign Savior can help us answer it honestly. Make no mistake about it: as we yield our will to the will of the One who’s truly in charge, we will walk through some personal sorrow – perhaps even some gut-wrenching agony. It’s not an easy road that you and I’ve been given to travel, and it’s no easy calling to give up the reins of control that we’ve found so seductive with their false sense of security.

And living sacrifices tend to crawl off the altar. But we are not alone, and our God will help us – as He always does. As we learn to surrender, I’ll remind you of what C.S. Lewis wrote of the losses that we suffer in this life for Christ: “Heaven will work backwards and turn even agony into glory. Like waking up from a nightmare … whatever has been lost will be that much sweeter when it is regained.”

Yes, Jesus loves me. And we can trust our faithful Shepherd, for He loves us with a passion that painted His own body red.

We are marked for the gospel!

Pastor Charles

You’re looking at my view late Monday from the Armenian village of Ujan, about half an hour from Yerevan, where my fellow mission team members and I are building a playground for children. The photo can’t do justice to the loveliness that’s emanating from the horizon where the earth meets the sky. The awesome snow-capped peak encircled by impressive clouds is Mount Ararat, where Noah’s Ark came to rest after the great Flood.

I’m struck by the grandeur and the artistry, and I don’t want to miss a moment of it. How magnificent is our Creator’s handiwork! That being firmly articulated, we have lots of work to do here this week, so I won’t spend a whole lot of time blogging.

If you want my opinion, the story of Noah is a word of great hope for all of us. Noah’s life and calling were anything but easy, yet his story continues to whisper in our ears a testimony of God’s sovereign grace. In the words of Genesis 9:1, “And God blessed Noah and his sons and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth.'” What should have been total disaster for the entire human race had become an undeserved fresh start.

I suppose there are reasons why many people question the validity of the Bible’s record in regard to Noah, but I’m not among numbered among the skeptics. From my perspective, it’s simply historical narrative that’s rich with theological truth and beauty.

In Matthew 24:36-39, Jesus references the account of Noah, and I suppose that’s simply enough for me. Christ had every opportunity to explain the ark as mere fable or symbolism, but He did not. The story includes symbolism, of course, but it’s so much more. It speaks of people who actually lived, and of events which actually transpired.

In an amazing and supernatural way, Noah represents the grace of your glorious salvation and mine in our Lord Jesus Christ. The sparing of Noah’s family prefigures the sparing of all who place their trust in Christ.

As the ark withstood the deadly storm and carried all its passengers to safety, so does Christ faithfully and fully see us through to the other side. He is “the Way, and the Truth, and the Life” (John 14:6). There is no other way out of our sin and the righteous wrath of God.

And please consider this. Almighty God, by placing the gorgeous rainbow of light in the sky for Noah and his descendants, aimed His weapon of war and judgment directly at Himself. How can this spectacular sign of the covenant be anything less than a prelude to the cross, and to the gospel of grace which sets us free?

So, Beloved, praise be to God for the unmatched victory that is ours in Christ!
“Let all things now living a song of thanksgiving
To God the Creator triumphantly raise,
Who fashioned and made us, protected and stayed us,
Who guideth us on to the end of our days.
His banners are o’er us, His light goes before us,
A pillar of fire shining forth in the night,
‘Til shadows have vanished and darkness is banished,
As forward we travel from light into light.
His law He enforces: the stars in their courses,
The sun in His orbit, obediently shine;
The hills and the mountains, the rivers and fountains,
The deeps of the ocean proclaim Him divine,
We too should be voicing our love and rejoicing,
With glad adoration a song let us raise,
‘Til all things now living unite in thanksgiving
To God in the highest, hosanna and praise!”

Friends, because of Christ, I’m so blessed to be traveling with you from light into light!

Pastor Charles