“Peace on earth, good will toward men.”

At the end of a particularly trying year, I share with you some particularly hopeful words. Those seven words were penned in 1863 by the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in Christmas Bells. The poem became a famous Christmas carol, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, which served to further popularize the words of Luke 2:14. That beautiful verse in the Christmas story records what those stunned shepherds heard in the night skies over Bethlehem: the good news of the birth of Christ miraculously announced by “the multitude of the heavenly host.”

Such holy fanfare was highly appropriate, for God had kept His word. Just as Isaiah had prophesied, the “Prince of Peace” had come! But we don’t get very far in any of the Gospel accounts before we realize that the peace brought by Jesus was not, and is not, the kind of peace that people expect. John particularly nailed it: “He came unto his own, and his own received him not.”

So I suppose that leaves us wondering what the peace of Christ is really all about. I’ll explore that in our last few days before Christmas.

The peace of Christ is spiritual peace. It is peace with God, after all, which means that it is intrinsically supernatural in origin. By the cross and resurrection of Jesus, God’s grace accomplishes for and in us a reconciliation the extent to which we never could have dreamt. Perhaps I should describe such extraordinary peace as supranatural instead. Especially in our most chaotic seasons, amid the chaos and clamor of whatever stripe, does not such peace sound like music to our ears?

The peace of Christ is otherworldly peace. It doesn’t get enacted into law. Nor is it ushered in by a conquering army, or secured by a powerful military. It is entirely and exquisitely divine. But it embraces us in our desperate inability to create peace on our own. Once I am born again and have peace with God, I can begin to experience peace with others. Not only that, but the omnipotent Spirit of God is able to make me, within my tiny sphere of influence, a peacemaker for God’s glory.

The peace of Christ is extravagant peace. No amount of money in the world can procure it. It is in fact utterly priceless. As you and I count our many blessings at the close of 2021, I hope that our hearts well up with praise when we think about all that “God with us” has done to make peace for us both a present reality and a future inheritance. Again, Isaiah captured it: “Of the increase of his … peace there will be no end.”

Longfellow’s “chant sublime” from an era of Civil War strife included the words “wild and sweet” to describe the hopeful sounds of peace. It’s interesting to me that newer versions of the song have changed the lyrics to “mild and sweet.” I like the older lyrics, personally, because I don’t ever want to lose sight of the untamed and uncultivated nature of genuine peace.

Peace is not of us. In fact, it is innately foreign to us. We are rebels and fighters by nature. If I am ever to know the peace that surpasses understanding, then my sinful human nature must be wrestled to the ground. My old ways must be killed, or they will kill me. Only a Sovereign God can accomplish such an impossible yet marvelous thing.

In the form of a tiny baby, that Warrior God has come to earth! He has loved us to death–His and ours–that we may have life. He has lavished upon us the sweetness of His abundant grace. Where there was no peace, He has made peace with and for us.

So I pray for you a Christmas wild and sweet.

Peace,

Pastor Charles

Etched in our memory ever since, Charlie Brown set the stage in 1965: “I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I’m not happy. I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to feel.” You likely know the message of the seasonal classic well. As the storyline unfolds, and thanks to Linus, Charlie Brown eventually discovers “what Christmas is all about.” For many of us, it’s a holiday favorite. We appreciate the simple story, and most notably its direct quote from Luke 2, but we also recognize the emotional dilemma disclosed by Charlie Brown en route to the skating pond: “I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to feel.”

We all prefer an overdose of merriment, but there’s nothing uncommon about feeling triggered or depressed during the Christmas holidays. In this fallen world, there are plenty of bonafide reasons for that. Don’t even get me started about the mental healthcare crisis in America. Add in the most destructive weather event in Kentucky’s history, and it might not be a stretch to predict more than our fair share of “bah humbug” this year. Acknowledging the depression caused by shorter days alone, Marissa Miller wrote in The New York Times: “All I want for Christmas is a nap.”

So what I want to propose today is that we allow ourselves to feel whatever we’re feeling. After all, fake happiness never helped anyone. And, strange as it may sound, some of the help we need might be found in the Christmas story itself. Let’s remember what really happened. God’s people were living in hopelessness and sorrow. The Roman Empire was ruthless. And God’s people were living in powerlessness and pain. They saw no way out because there was no way out.

In fact, the people didn’t even understand the depth of their predicament. Their sin was an even bigger problem than their sorrow. But that’s precisely the wonder of Christmas! In the form of a tiny baby, good news for the whole world was on the way. Born among us to show us the extravagant love of God the Father, God the Son was lying in a feeding trough. But you and I know that He was destined for a cruel cross.

Certainly, the resurrection of Jesus is already in view, but don’t miss my point: sorrow has a prominent place in God’s story. You may be thinking that you can’t even relate to Christmas this year, but I’m suggesting that your present sorrow just might be your ticket to the most powerful Christmas you’ve ever known. Remember the people living in darkness. Recall the personal, fearful valleys through which Mary and Joseph had to walk. And remember those startled nighttime shepherds of whom the Bible testifies: “and they were sore afraid.”

Linus was absolutely right. Ultimately, it’s the angel’s “fear not” that is the only way out of the mess we’re in, emotionally and otherwise. But while it’s still more than a little messy this side of heaven, I pray that the “good tidings of great joy” will see you through to a brighter day.

Pastor Charles

Friends, as you prepare your heart for Christmas, I want to direct you to a single verse today. It’s Matthew 1:19, and it packs a powerful punch: And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.

Now, before you jump to any conclusions about an angel having visited Joseph to reassure him, I’ll simply remind you that the verse I’m referencing is before the angelic visitation. Even before there was any miraculous encounter for Joseph, Joseph’s character was such that he chose to show mercy to Mary. I find such grace both extraordinary and revolutionary.

You may remember that Mary and Joseph were betrothed. Much more official than what we think of as “engagement” today, betrothal was the legal equivalent of what was then the first stage of marriage. So by this point they were already “husband and wife” in a sense. In this betrothal period, they had not celebrated their union with a public feast, or physically consummated their marriage. But sexual relations with another would have been adultery, and it certainly would have appeared to Joseph that Mary had wronged him in this way. (Thus the need for the angel to straighten things out.)

From one key verse in the Christmas story, we discover something amazing: Joseph wanted to protect Mary in any way that he could. Small-town scandals were absolutely awful, then as now, and Joseph wanted no part of creating that for the young woman who was to have been his bride. It would appear on many levels that Joseph chose to honor a gracious God by demonstrating undeserved grace – by restraining himself from giving Mary “what she deserved” – and I think that we can all learn from Joseph’s righteous and selfless example. According to the law, Joseph had grounds to demand that Mary be stoned to death, but Joseph was a man of compassion and mercy. Despite his legal grounds for retribution, Joseph wanted to make sure that Mary was not made into a public spectacle of any kind. I think we can safely conclude that noble Joseph – despite his broken heart – truly loved Mary.

Friends, we know that love is really love when it overcomes anger. Let’s not sugarcoat this story: at this moment in time, Mary is the person who has wounded Joseph and shattered his dreams. You and I know that Mary did not commit the sin of adultery, but Joseph doesn’t know that yet. The culture of that day was a culture of honor-and-shame. Marvelously, even in his fear (which we know from the next verse), he chose to honor Mary – and to protect her from shame. This was perhaps the most vulnerable moment of Mary’s entire life. And, instead of judgment, condemnation, or revenge – which would have been the normal and natural course of human emotion and behavior – gentle Joseph showed her love. Supernatural love.

And Joseph’s life will be marked by such powerful love. In sheer obedience to God, he will take a pregnant Mary to be his wife. The public embarrassment and humiliation must have been overwhelming at times. I wonder if the stigma ever evaporated, and I doubt that it ever did entirely. And Joseph will go on to face even more stringent troubles. He will learn of Herod’s diabolical plan to kill Jesus. So this simple carpenter from Nazareth will be forced to flee from a murderous dictator and his army … to somehow make a way, as best he can, for his little family to get safely down to Egypt … and to face with steadfastness there the harsh demands of a strange people and government which undoubtedly landed squarely in Joseph’s lap.

Joseph will raise Jesus as His own, choosing by faith to work through and overcome all of the complex and difficult emotions that would come with that scenario for any man. But it will not be about Joseph, friends, any more than it will be about you or me. In fact Joseph will be nearly unknown in the New Testament.

When I grow up, I want to be like Joseph.

Pastor Charles

When it comes to the approaching holidays, C.S. Lewis wasn’t much on the frenzied consumerism of Christmas, but he called the birth of Jesus Christ “the central event in the history of the earth.” That’s quite a statement. I share it with you now that December has knocked on our door, and my hope is simply this: that you and I not miss the moment.

You see, friends, we can miss the moment while trying to find the moment. This time of year has a habit of deflecting our vision in such a way that the twinkling lights seem brighter than the Light of the world.

I urge you to notice the spectacular change of seasons. If we lived in Miami, we might not be able to take in as much of God’s December artwork, but you and I have no excuse to miss it here. The migrating birds. The icicles protruding from the rock formations. The soon-coming snow.

I urge you to notice the places of needed grace. All around us are neighbors who are struggling and suffering. I always say that there’s pain in every pew. Christmas may feel like a time of indulgence for some, but for many it’s a painful reminder of what they’re missing: a loved one, a job, or a happier day gone by. For those of us in the body of Christ, this ought to be a time of intentional and incarnational ministry (we’re privileged to serve as Christ’s hands and feet).

I urge you to notice the sunsets. Simple but profound. Last night’s was extraordinary in fact, with its billowy pastel cloud formations, as Lone Oak Road appeared to be wandering off into colorful Narnia. All you have to do is open your eyes.

And, while you’re at it, I urge you to notice the smiles on the faces of the children with whom we’re privileged to share the season. For the little ones in our midst, these are special moments indeed. Show up. Be present. Give eagerly of yourself. We will blink, and they will be grown.

And early December means that winter will soon prevail. Just today I added a heavy coat to the supplies in the trunk of my car. We might have to bundle up, but let’s not miss a single opportunity to behold the glory of God. Of winter’s unique display of God’s grandeur and majesty, and also His providential care for us, Nichole Nordeman sings:

Everything in time and under heaven
Finally falls asleep
Wrapped in blankets white, all creation
Shivers underneath
And still I notice You
When branches crack
And in my breath on frosted glass
Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter …

Here’s the thing: strangely but surely, buried beneath the coldest and starkest landscape, is the certain promise of spring. “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’!” The glories of resurrection are as real now as ever.

So while we wait on all things to be made new (Revelation 21:5), savor these moments of beautiful December. They are spectacular moments, as is the God who grants them to us, one by one. And savor the Savior who has come to earth: HE IS CHRIST THE LORD.

Pastor Charles

This week we’re all mindful of the attitude of gratitude. We know something of how important it is to be thankful, and we know something of our natural propensity to be anything but.

When the returned exiles of Israel began rebuilding the temple, many of the older people wept. They still remembered the glory days of Solomon’s temple, and the newer temple project seemed like it was going to prove itself to be utterly disappointing by comparison (Ezra 3:10-13). They wanted to hang on to Jerusalem’s former glory, but they realized that those days were not to be relived. Zechariah’s response to the people’s widespread disappointment (4:10) is powerful: “Whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice!”

That gets me thinking about my own nearsightedness when it comes to matters of faith. I can talk up a storm about trusting God, you see, but it’s an entirely different thing when I actually have to trust Him. Perhaps you can relate.

So this holiday season I’m making it my aim to focus on “the little things.” By God’s grace and for His glory, I’m going to notice God’s goodness in the more hidden corners of my world, and in the places of my life that look less like a big splash and more like a subtle whisper.

I’m thankful for old friends. You know who you are. You’ve always been there for me. I know I can count on you, no matter what. Simply remembering what we’ve been through together, over many years now, warms my heart. (I’m not crying. You’re crying.)

I’m thankful for my quirky and beautiful little family of three. Some days we’re a trip, but every day we’re a treasure. We can complete each other’s sentences, and sing each other’s songs. We’ve got each other’s back. We’re on each other’s team. We’re not giving up on each other, but we’re choosing to cheer each other on until we cross the finish line.

I’m thankful for the work that I’m privileged to do. It’s hard work, and it drives me nearly crazy at times, but it’s a high privilege to be called to it. I’m even thankful for the multifaceted frustrations of pastoral ministry, for I know that in my Lord’s good providence they shape and sanctify me. No tear is wasted. No sleepless night is ultimately unprofitable.

I’m thankful for closed doors. (Yes, you read that right.) I’m thankful to know a God who knows better than I. I’m choosing to believe what I’ve always said I believe: His ways are not my ways. I’m choosing to savor the sweetness of a Savior who loves me too much to always give me what I want.

And those blessings are just for starters. By the way, if you’re reading this, I’m inviting you to join me on my simple journey of gratitude.

I have a hunch that one day we just may look up and realize that the little things were really the big things.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Pastor Charles

No, it’s not a picture of Santa Claus. Far from it.

The Acton Institute reports that about a third of all young adults in America have a favorable view of Marxism. Yes, you read that correctly. It’s hard to believe, but true. Someone, somewhere, is successfully propping up a whopper of a lie. And the recent statistics confirm for us the unfortunate news: it’s working.

And here is the problem with rewriting history so that Karl Marx comes out smelling like a rose: every form of Marxism works against the inherent dignity of every person. Because Marxism demands fascism, you see. It is a worldview guided by the following cardinal rule: “If we like it, it must be made mandatory. If we dislike it, it must be banned.” It is the end of freedom. So, for example, commonsense gun legislation isn’t enough – all guns must be banned. Legalizing same-sex marriage isn’t enough – everyone must be a proponent of it. Respectful tolerance in the public square isn’t enough, because – if you disagree with me on any point – you must be shouted down, silenced, and canceled entirely. Those are the rules of the game, but it’s no game.

My guess is that Marxism looks attractive to the historically naïve because – at first glance – it feels like a viable way in which all people can be treated “equally.” But nothing could be further from the truth. Where Marxism really takes root, there always arises incredible inequality in the form of an elite class of government authorities who speak the language of equality, but who enshrine the mechanisms to ensure a ruling dictatorial class. How do they justify this? Well, simply put, they are so self-deceived that they are firmly convinced that they know better than the unenlightened populace beneath them. So the state gets bigger and bigger and bigger, all in the name of progress, while personal liberties fly out the window – until sophisticated thugs rule the roost. This tragic pattern has repeated itself in history over and over again, under the influence of many different people who thought their version of it was right. You’d think that we’d know better by now, but apparently, we do not.

And we must never forget that Marxism is a jealous god. It will never tolerate any notion of the one true and living God! We must never forget that Joseph Stalin and Mao Zedong made certain that they be regarded as God. If you disagreed with that idolatrous assessment, then you deserved death – the ultimate cancellation. Sadly and catastrophically, Marxism is the end of reason, the end of critical thinking, and the end of cultural flourishing. As a philosophical, political, and moral system, it is entirely anti-God. The utopian dream of Karl Marx has become nothing short of a global nightmare, as regimes built in his image have killed more than a hundred million people in the last century, while misguided ideological tyrants led the way.

I don’t have to tell you that anti-God is never the right way. Marxism, and all of the belief systems which flow from it, elevate man. Humanism becomes the be-all-end-all. It’s absolutely morally bankrupt. In fact, Marxist forms of government have failed miserably in every single part of the world in which they’ve ever been tried, and yet – somehow, strangely – Marxism still beguiles leading intellectuals, academics, politicians, and religious leaders here in our corner of the world.

Marxism is a false religion. Someone needs to be elevated, but it’s not us. You see, it is only the gospel of Christ which elevates God to His rightful position: JESUS IS LORD OF ALL!

Prejudice exists. Racism exists. Oppression exists. Indeed, all of these awful realities are realities indeed, because this planet is fallen to the core. But the solution is not Marxism of any stripe.

In his famous essay, Vladimir Lenin called religion “opium for the people … spiritual booze in which the slaves of capital drown their human image.” I would submit to you friends, the precise opposite: it is only the knowledge of God that can deliver us from our present cultural crisis. It is only the truth of Christ’s gospel that can promote any sense of human dignity within our current cancel culture. And it is only the love of God that can speak peace to our profoundly troubled world.

When I think of our young people being robbed of their right mind, and being cunningly convinced to believe a deadly lie, it breaks my heart. Just like in Jeremiah’s day, people are choosing to put their hope in “broken cisterns that can hold no water” (2:13), and leading many others toward the same place of spiritual bankruptcy. But you and I have the weapon of prayer, and that’s a powerful weapon! So arm yourself for this pivotal moment … draw upon the evidence of history … love with resurrection passion those who are trapped in deceit … and wait joyfully upon the Lord who does marvelous things …

Pastor Charles

You might have missed it, but it happened at the Forty-Third Kennedy Center Honors in Washington, D.C.

Garth Brooks, one of this year’s honorees, was looking on intently as Kelly Clarkson sang “The Dance.” If you’re not a fan of country music, you might not know that “The Dance” is Garth Brooks’ song, released in 1989 and a chart-topper in 1990.

Kelly and Garth are close friends, having encouraged each other through a number of the storms of life. As it turns out, this particular song helped Kelly make it through one of the toughest seasons in her life, and it inspired one of her own albums. Apparently, she was thrilled to be asked to perform it in honor of her faithful friend … “Oh, our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.”

The audience grew pin-drop quiet as Garth Brooks was visibly moved to tears.

There’s something inherently human about seeking to avoid pain. Believe me, when I go to the doctor’s office, I’ll choose the oral medication over the shot every time. I don’t do pain well.

And there are the much more painful pains. The pains of a broken heart. The pains of a shattered dream. The pains with a sting worse than death. That’s why all of us can relate to those simple song lyrics. We know what it’s like to be hurt. We know what it’s like to be disappointed. We know what it’s like to be betrayed. And we know what it’s like to do everything in our power not to be hurt again. But the point of the song is that real love is worth the risk.

In The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes: “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.”

Jesus wept (John 11:35). Jesus wept because Jesus loved, and His love cost Him everything. Let that sink in! The Sovereign of the universe so identified with the painful plight of humankind that He entered into our grief to the nth degree. So you and I must not imagine for one second that it will cost us nothing to love as we’ve been loved. We have to remember in whose footsteps we’re following, and that we’re walking the way of the Cross. The way of love can be a painful way – a way of suffering.

I believe that Garth Brooks cried because God has blessed him with a warm and authentically human spirit. That gift envelopes his artistry, and so it’s no surprise that Brooks has expanded the profile of the country genre perhaps more than any other singer-songwriter in the world. Looking back over the course of his life and his successful career, I’ll quote directly from Mr. Brooks: “The hope is to have contributed to humanity like my heroes have, to inspire us to be the most we can be as individuals, global citizens, and a part of human history. But most of all, to simply laugh, cry, love, and dream through music … I have been blessed to do just that.”

“Vocation” comes from the Latin for “calling.” So, dear friends, what God has given you to do, do it with all your heart! Do it for an audience of One! Do it for the glory of God! Don’t miss your moment.

Your mission will cost you if it is our Lord’s mission. You can count on that. Like Brooks, you will shed some tears along the way. Not only the tears of suffering but also the tears of recognizing the frailty of your humanity … recognizing the painful journey that you’ve shared with another person … recognizing the painful task to which you’ve been commissioned by God … or simply acknowledging the tenderness of your own heart. But would you really want it any other way?

So don’t miss the dance. It will hurt, sometimes, when you dance for Jesus. But please don’t miss the dance.

Pastor Charles

With his two-run homer, Dansby Swanson helped the Atlanta Braves win their first World Series in 26 years. We can learn a lot from a shortstop.

“God’s always got a plan,” says Swanson with a reassuring tone in a major media interview. I think you’ll agree with me that there aren’t many wiser words to live by, friends: God’s always got a plan. In fact, that is the wisdom of God Himself (Proverbs 16:9): The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.

I take great comfort in that great truth, because – whenever I make my plans – my sin gets in the way. I’m a mixed bag, you see – a mixture of pure motives and selfish impulses. This side of heaven, that’s likely to be an accurate descriptor of what you get when you get me: a mixed bag. But not so with God! The Lord is unending in His perfections, and in His perfect knowledge of what ought to happen, so my ultimate trust must be in Him. Yours too. And here’s the deal: it is the Lord alone who ultimately governs my path. Yours too.

God is not just a predictor. God is a doer. God is not just a knower. God is a Sovereign. To understand those important – and heartening – distinctions about God is the difference between being a deist and a theist. Nowhere in the entire universe is there even one random baseball soaring through the air.

Is there any uncertainty about tomorrow? With me, yes. But not with God. He’s never surprised or caught off guard by any unexpected change. That’s so unlike me that it’s not even funny. Can you relate? Like the Israelites who walked before us, you and I often completely forget the faithfulness of God, especially when a new surprise comes our way. And it will be no surprise when I tell you that life sometimes feels like surprise after surprise. We don’t mind surprises like baseball-victory surprises, but you know those other kinds of surprises of which I speak.

That’s right where some of us are living. Right now. We’re just not so sure what God is doing. When it comes to matters of faith, sometimes a season of not knowing can drive us to want to throw in the proverbial towel. Every Christ-follower I know has experienced at least one of those dark seasons. But don’t you dare give up on God, as He has certainly not given up on you! I wish that I could have met Corrie ten Boom because I think that it was Corrie who expressed it best: “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.”

Are we hapless victims of life’s whimsical twists and turns? It may feel like it at times, but the answer is a thousand times “no!” Nor are we driven along by some impersonal and haphazard force. Nor are we battered by circumstances beyond all control. And here’s why: God remains fully in control. There is not a single moment in history when that statement is untrue, and that includes now.

Even now, Christ’s gracious hand guides us. His gracious hand protects us. His gracious hand provides for us. This is true when we win a game, and this is true when we lose a game. Because the tomb is empty, win or lose, we win!

This is a bright season for the Braves, and I hope that they – and their fans – savor every moment. And, at a moment when the tone could be braggadocious – and who would even question it? – we hear nothing from Dansby but the words of a humble servant: “The good Lord – He’s blessed me so much. I wouldn’t be here without Him. Just the peace that He gives me is remarkable, especially in moments like this. You can never go wrong in trusting in that … I’m just so thankful to be here.” Those are nothing short of (pun fully intended) words of grateful praise.

May his tribe increase. God, give us such grateful hearts.

Pastor Charles

I’m sending you some pics from Manomet Point, just south of Plymouth, Massachusetts. Eileen and I have been literally in the bullseye of the Nor’Easter that just barreled through this part of the world. Our house is on the ocean. We have no electricity. Sustained winds have been 60 miles per hour, with gusts up to 102. And this has been a 36-hour event. Meteorologists are calling it a “bomb cyclone.”

I apologize that the photos have such little definition, but that’s what we’ve been seeing: a near-whiteout of water, fog, and loud mystery. Last night our house felt and sounded like we were riding on a train. Unbelievable.

I won’t write much except to say that the God who commands these tumultuous waves and hurricane-force winds must be an awesome God! He is to be feared, and revered, by His creatures. He is absolutely unfathomable in His power and greatness.

But I must also tell you that this omnipotent Lord of the universe is more than great: He is good. The seals out there are frolicking without concern, as are the seagulls above and the whales below. In fact, the few birds I can spot seem to be soaring effortlessly.

Wind or no wind, I can rest in God’s goodness too. Christ has come to this troubled planet, shown us the infinite love of our Father, and ravaged death forever by a bloody cross and an empty tomb. What else have we to fear? Hallelujah! He’s the real Bomb of history.

This Jesus demonstrated His sovereignty over the stormy sea with three simple words: “Peace! Be still!” That’s more than enough for me. I am simply undone in the glorious presence of One that wonderful.

So today I choose to stand with King David: “The Lord is good to all, and His mercy is over all that He has made” (Psalm 145:9). I hope you’ll stand with me.

Because you and I are safer than seals.

Pastor Charles

I’m having a hard time believing that I’m typing these words, but Mike Stone has sued Russell Moore in federal court. Just when you thought politics and tribalism couldn’t get any uglier in the Southern Baptist Convention, here we go. If you’re unfamiliar with these names, Pastor Stone is the former chairman of the SBC Executive Committee, who failed this year in a run for the SBC presidency; Dr. Moore is the former president of the SBC Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, who left that post in May.

The lawsuit filed Monday comes on the heels of the resignation of Dr. Ronnie Floyd, who had served as the president of the Executive Committee, and who had become embroiled in controversy over investigations of sexual abuse within the denomination. For purposes of this blog posting, I am not going to report or comment on the specific allegations raised by these men, but in general, they range from damaged reputations to “psychological terror.”

Floyd’s resignation was accompanied by a wave of departures by other top leaders, indicating deep fissures in the denomination. Our public witness for Christ is suffering. Our people, including our leaders, are struggling with discouragement and depression. Our statistical vital signs are steadily weakening. In short, we are in trouble.

There is no doubt that our God has called us to unite around the glorious gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ! But our enemy’s greatest tactic is a spirit of incessant strife. Satan’s perversion of our identity and our mission causes us to ostracize and shame one another. When we distance ourselves from one another and disparage one another, evil can flourish in our most sacred spaces. The mutual ministry of encouragement, which ought to permeate our shared life together, can be eclipsed by our foolish pride. Factions breed factions, and there will never be united hearts where there are not forgiving hearts.

Here’s the reality: a divided church is an oxymoron, for we are the very body of Christ. We are saints. And we are sanctified. That means that we are “set apart” for God’s own holy purposes. Take a close look at First Corinthians 1:10. It is the Apostle Paul’s remedy for a divided church: in essence, stop dividing! Corinth had more than its share of relational troubles among the people, but Jesus offers more than enough hope for an overriding unity in Himself.

Friends, the courts ought not to have to be settling among us what has already been settled by the blood of the Lamb. He is more than enough!

The out-and-out spiritual warfare that is engulfing our churches right now is nothing short of unbelievably intense. So please do your part as a prayer warrior and as a gospel peacemaker. And I will strive to do mine. Let’s not mimic the national trends, but in a totally countercultural way let’s lead by love. The world is watching. And so is the Lord.

Pastor Charles