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

Three Dog Night sang, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.”

I’ve been walking our congregation through the book of Ecclesiastes, and Chapter 4 has confronted all of us with the problem of aloneness. As I looked at the text, and as I looked in the mirror, I realized that the overwhelming emotions facing Solomon are universal. Loneliness stings. In fact, the problem of loneliness is as old as the human race. I backtracked and noted: “It is not good that the man should be alone (Genesis 2:18).” In the Hebrew Scriptures, that’s God’s first recorded “not good,” and I contend that it still applies to each one of us – whether we’re single or married.

You and I were never designed to go it alone.

Don’t get me wrong. At one time or another, everybody feels lonely. But the struggle can get intense. When feelings of aloneness become frequent, social isolation begins to increase. The American Psychological Association warns that social isolation is mounting in American society at an alarming rate. Several factors contribute. More people live alone than ever before. As people have fewer children, the average household size is trending downward, and at this point more than 50% of the population is unmarried. Simultaneously, meaningful connections to religious communities are decreasing. Even volunteerism is down in the U.S. as of this writing. When it comes to overall societal health and wellbeing, all of these trends are moving in the wrong direction.

People between 30 and 44 years of age poll the loneliest. 29% of people in this age range report that they’re “frequently lonely” or “always lonely.” And there are no substantial gender differences – it seems that men and women experience similar rates of loneliness. Nor do there appear to be major differences based on race or ethnicity. Loneliness can strike anyone, anytime, anywhere.

America is a lonely nation.

Harvard Graduate School of Education researchers have published data noting what they describe as “existential loneliness,” or a “fundamental sense of disconnection from others or the world.” Of those who self-identify as lonely, 65% say they feel “fundamentally separate or disconnected from others or the world,” and 57% say they are unable to share their true selves with others.

Existential loneliness.

I’d say it’s nothing short of tragic that you and I have friends, neighbors, and family members who feel like they can’t ever be themselves. You may remember the line from Shakespeare: “This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”

What I’m trying to say is that chronic loneliness is a serious problem. And the reality is that you and I can experience aloneness and loneliness even when there are plenty of people around. Maybe you’re there right now. We’re the constantly connected disconnected generation. We all know that technology is at least partly to blame for this unsettling phenomenon, but we don’t fully understand all the connections or ramifications.

Underlying much of our national anger is grief. And underlying much of our national grief is loneliness.

We’re tempted to think that the cure for our loneliness must be people, but God’s Word reminds us that people can’t – apart from the Lord – fix us. In fact, no person or power on Earth can bring us the “peace which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:6-7). When you and I look to other people to fill our loneliness void, exclusively, we’re like the woman at the well whose thirst was never quenched until she met Jesus. Christ will meet us in all our sorrows, including our loneliness, and only He can give our exhausted souls the rest we ultimately crave (Matthew 11:28-30). No human being – and not one of our expensive toys – can ever give us the supreme satisfaction that we discover only in Jesus Christ. You and I must never forget that we find our “completeness” only in Christ (Colossians 2:8-10).

That being clearly established, the people around me matter forever. The same goes for you. According to Ephesians 4:1-16, the Lord’s beautiful work of redemption extends far beyond our being reconciled to God – wonderful as that is! God’s amazing grace just keeps giving! Accompanying the arrival of the Holy Spirit of our ascended Christ are God’s gifts for His people – you and me – and these come to us in the form of other people. So, as we receive each other in love, and as we work together to build and protect the unity of the church, we celebrate the unique gift that is each other. No spiritual gift is a self-generated achievement. The truth is that each gifted believer – that includes every one of us who belongs to Christ – is a distinctive treasure sent by God.

In my sin and selfishness, as I navigate the hardships of life, I can become so self-absorbed that I bail on the hard work of cultivating good, healthy, edifying, and Christ-honoring relationships. Perhaps that’s a danger you face too. Lord, help us! Millie Welsh writes: “Since we are made in God’s image and He values being known more than anything else, it stands to reason that it is very important to us as humans to also be known. Not only do we want to be known by God, but we have a high need to be known by others … There is something in us that makes us want to belong, to be known, and to be understood. We are made for relationship, which is a gift from God.” So, friends, let’s keep doing the hard work of relationship-building for God’s glory. The dividends are eternal.

“A threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12). I’m sure grateful for this promise. We desperately need God. We desperately need each other. And in that order.

Be encouraged.

Pastor Charles

I’m a big fan of green peas. Even the frozen kind that you nuke for 4.5 minutes right before dinner. With just a little butter on top, they fit almost every plate perfectly. Eileen and Josh don’t share my affinity for the petite verdant delicacies – at least not to the same degree – but we’re all fans of peas in a pinch.

Anyway, there’s an interesting and pithy bit of wisdom tucked away in Proverbs 15:17. It’s worded like this: “Better a small serving of vegetables with love than a fattened calf with hatred.” Wow. That’s a mouthful (pun fully intended). What good’s a party if the guests don’t even like each other? Where’s the fun in that?

I guess that’s the Bible’s way of reminding us that the food on the table isn’t nearly as important as the love around the table. Excellent point. Sage counsel for all of us pilgrims along the way. It is, after all, “the fear of the Lord” – just one verse earlier – that helps us find our contentment not in the stuff of life – but in the deeper matters of the heart. When Christ is in it, even a little daily bread can be received with delight and thanksgiving.

We’re all prone to hatred – as the Scriptures so clearly testify – but you and I don’t want to live there. We know better. So my goal today is to remind us how privileged we are to be the Lord’s ambassadors of love – even when and where lovelessness might seem to abound.

So how do we love?

Eleanor Roosevelt once notably quipped: “The giving of love is an education in itself.” The popular advice columnist, Ann Landers (her real name was Esther Pauline “Eppie” Lederer), defined love as “friendship that has caught fire.” And the American novelist and poet, John Updike, expressed the wonder of romantic love like this: “We are most alive when we are in love.” Across the pond and more than a century earlier, the English Victorian poet known as Alfred, Lord Tennyson captured the famous sentiment: “‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”

We know from Christ’s compelling story of the Good Samaritan that the human race is exceptionally adept at making excuses for why we don’t have to love this or that person – “Who is my neighbor?” asked the lawyer insincerely – but such smug self-righteousness doesn’t get us off the hook. Jesus was very clear: whoever needs us is our real neighbor. G.K. Chesterton said it well: “The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because they are generally the same people.” It was also Chesterton who penned: “To love anything is to see it at once under lowering skies of danger. Loyalty implies loyalty in misfortune.”

You and I are called to loyal love. It was Martin Luther King Jr. who preached: “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.” Sang rather melodiously Michael W. Smith: “Friends are friends forever if the Lord’s the Lord of them.”

Love is exhilarating! Exciting! Enduring! Fun and funny. It was Agatha Christie who noted: “It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.” The politician, essayist, and playwright of “Les Misérables” fame, Victor Hugo, keenly and rightly observed: “The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.” Indeed. And the French aviator and writer, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, offered his own insight into the mystery of love: “Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.”

Love is costly. Calvary’s cross is Exhibit A.

The business guru and motivational speaker, Simon Sinek, warns via Facebook: “Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and hoping they don’t use it.” From his professional experiences at Oxford and Cambridge, and from the pit of his own personal agony, C.S. Lewis – who had much to say on the subject of love’s inherent risk – left us with this sobering reality check: “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, perhaps the most influential writer in the German language, took a stab at the selfless nature of true love: “Love does not dominate; it cultivates.” That’s good. I truly enjoy people’s real-life definitions of love, but in a sense each definition falls short, because each one of them is – knowingly or unknowingly – an attempt to define God. I say this, friends, because “God is love” (1 John 4:8, 16).

It is the gospel good news of Jesus that fuels all true love, and which liberates us from loving in all the wrong directions. St. Augustine prayed humbly before God: “He loves Thee too little, O Lord, who loves anything together with Thee which he loves not for Thy sake.” Love for God is our only starting point, and – without it – we are lost in pursuit of a fantasy. With a love for God, however, all of the love which we can express here on Earth becomes a signpost for amazing grace.

“For God so loved.”

So I shall let God speak for Himself. He used the Apostle Paul to summarize exquisitely the matter of our high calling in Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 13:4-7): “Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.”

Peas be with you.

Pastor Charles

Ephphatha!

Even if we could pronounce it correctly, it’d be a strange sound in our ears. But it’s a word recorded in the Bible – so it’s a word that will always matter. In fact, it’s a word that should always remind us of the incredible love of God.

“Ephphatha” isn’t something we hear every day. It’s the Greek form of a Syro-Chaldaic or Aramaic word that means “Be opened.” It was spoken by our Lord Jesus – as He “looked up to heaven” – as He healed a man who was suffering from deafness and its accompanying speech impediment (Mark 7:34). It’s somewhat characteristic of Mark in his Gospel to include Aramaic words spoken by Jesus.

The man was made whole. He could hear, and he spoke plainly. Such a marvelous miracle!

“Be opened!”

At this time in history, the deaf man was helpless on his own. He could see, but the first standard form of sign language was more than 1600 years away. I include that detail just to remind you that no one could explain this miracle-worker named Jesus to a disabled man who desperately needed Him. The unknowing man would have to be brought to Jesus for a personal encounter. The understanding would have to come later.

This is a fascinating account, and I urge you to read all the verses carefully (Mark 7:31-37). In the course of interaction between Christ and this deaf man, Jesus puts His fingers into the man’s ears, and Jesus touches the man’s tongue. I don’t have to tell you that this isn’t everyday behavior. Maybe your toddler kids put their little fingers in your ears on occasion … and perhaps a doctor looks in with an instrument as part of your checkup … and maybe you got a couple of “wet willy’s” in your survival of childhood … but to have another person touch us in these ways would be startling – to say the least.

Clearly, Jesus doesn’t need to touch people to heal them. There’s no rulebook that requires Him to stick fingers into ears or touch tongues. In fact, we know clearly from the Scriptures that Jesus doesn’t even need to be in the same geographical location as the person in need of a miraculous healing. Christ’s word is enough to heal. It’s always enough. Christ’s word is, after all, the same word that spoke the entire universe into being. There simply is no higher power or authority than the word of Christ.

He could just say the word, and all would be well.

So why does Jesus do it like this?

I think the answer is simple. Jesus does all of this because the man is deaf.

Of course, Jesus could just say the word. He could just say “Be opened,” and the deaf man’s ears would be opened and his tongue loosened instantaneously . The man would be set free immediately form his afflictions, from the very moment the words were spoken.

Jesus’ words can do that. But Jesus loves this man far too much to do it that way. Jesus wants to make absolutely sure that this deaf man knows the full extent of the extravagant grace of God that is aimed squarely in his direction. Bullseye! All-wise Jesus is making it crystal clear that He is bringing to this desperate man a deliverance, a salvation, a future, and a hope that could come only from the Lord God!

Jesus wants none of this glorious message to get lost in translation. So Christ – full of grace and truth – communicates in the language of this man’s lonely soul: physical touch. Friends, I’m so glad that you and I have a Savior who knows us so well – and who loves us so individually and so deeply – that He chooses to speak our language.

If you’re hurting today … or confused … or lost … or angry … or terrified … or sad … or struggling to make sense of something that makes no sense …

Christ can meet you right there. Right where you are. He speaks your language. He’s the Author of your heart.

We sing it at Christmastime, but I’m in the mood to sing it in March …

Be opened!

Pastor Charles