Tagged: Baptist

Vocation and the Voice

Preached for the ordination of Andrew Taylor, Lawrencetown United Baptist Church, May 23, 2026

At that place [the mountain of Horeb] he [that is, Elijah] came to a cave and spent the night there. Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 10 He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts, for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 11 He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind, and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, 12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire, and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. 13 When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 14 He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts, for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” 15 Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. 16 Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel, and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.  (1 Kings 19:9-16, NRSV)

“Teaching about Christ begins in silence.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer told his students in 1933. Bonhoeffer, if you recall, was the German pastor and theologian who opposed the Nazis. This is a man of incredible courage and conviction, and he says, if you want to learn about Jesus, it begins in silence.

But what a weird thing to say! Maybe he had a particular unruly class, and he just wanted them all to be quiet. I often try to play the “quiet game” with my kids when I want them to settle down and listen. I’ve never had much success, however.  No, I don’t think that is what Bonhoeffer means.

There is something counterintuitive going on here: One would think that teaching involves action and obviously speaking. If you want to learn, you should start reading, studying, writing down thoughts and discussing them, maybe in a breakout room with other plucky seminary students—so get busy. But no. While all of those are important and profitable, Bonhoeffer says if you want to learn about Jesus, it must begin in silence.

Today, we are ordaining Andrew Taylor for pastoral ministry. It is such an honour to give the sermon for my friend Andrew. I’d say he is my student, and that is how I first met him at Acadia, but the truth is, in God’s kingdom and in our friendship, there are only disciples learning from each other.

Ordination is a recognition of a community of disciples of the calling God has on a person to be a preacher, a shepherd, a leader—you can say so many other things here: a companion, a nurturer, an advocate — of that community. How does he know this is what God wants for him? How does Lawrencetown United Baptist Church know this is what it wants to recognize? And more than that, where does a pastor draw his or her calling from? What confirms it and sustains it?

For those who know this passage, it takes place after a series of dramatic events in the life of the prophet Elijah.

Just before it, Elijah has a conflict with the prophets of the god Baal at Mount Carmel. Elijah confronts the king, Ahab, about his injustice and idolatry. Ahab has been killing the prophets of God, all the truth speakers and justice seekers. Elijah calls out this false god by challenging the 450 prophets of Baal, these yes men of tyranny, to a contest of sorts. Each chose a bull at Mount Carmel, and each was to pray to their god to see which god would honour the sacrifice and rain down fire from heaven. The god that did so would obviously be the true God. The other better close-up shop.

The prophets of Baal prayed and prophesied, yelled at the sky and even cut themselves trying to evoke their god, but nothing happened: a pathetic sight.

Then Elijah, so confident in the living God, tells his servants to drench his sacrifice with water three times over.

Elijah then turns and utters a simple prayer, and then, suddenly, the sacrifice erupted into flames from the sky.

You could not imagine a more decisive victory in the name of faith against delusion and oppression. Yet, it did not end up that way.

A humiliated Ahab turns to his queen, Jazabel, who then orders the execution of Elijah. Rather than believe and repent what they just saw, they turn to suppress the truth and get rid of anyone who contradicts their lies. Such are the patterns of those that prefer power to truth.

Elijah then has to run for his life, out into the wilderness, where he collapses from the elements. Elijah is defeated emotionally and physically. And he cries out, longing for death. Yet, it says an angel of the Lord brought food and water to him, and he musters enough strength to make it to a cave, a cave on the mountain of Horeb, the mountain on which Moses met God.  

He gets to the cave, but he is still wary. A cave is safer, but his heart is still broken. What he thought would be a decisive turning moment for his people made things worse. What would be a vindication of his work as a prophet had only made his life and message more precarious.

And so, there in that cave, he calls out to God. Perhaps you have experienced a similar moment, a moment where you are utterly exhausted and at the end of your rope. 

It is often in these moments that God finds us. And it says, there the word of God came to him: “What are you doing here, Elijah?” The voice is not just asking why Elijah is in a cave, but something much deeper. Why are you here? What is your purpose? But Elijah laments: everything has gone wrong, and now he is the last one left. The situation is hopeless.

And God tells him something, “Go out and stand on the mountain.” Go and meet me where Moses met me. Stand on the same rocks, breathe the same air, feel the same sun, look out at the same horizon. Elijah goes out, probably expecting to see God like Moses did: in a pillar of fire.

And something spectacular does happen: First, a powerful wind came, so powerful it could shatter stone, but it says, God was not in the wind.

Then an earthquake rumbled, shaking the mountain, but God was not in the earthquake either.

Then a fire blazed, a fire not unlike the one that consumed the sacrifice just a few days ago—surely God is in the fire, just like in the time of Moses—but no, God was not in the fire.

Then it happened. God was there. Not in the power of wind or rumble or fire—not in the most powerful things Elijah knew, but in a whisper. Or more literally, in the sound of sheer silence.

No words are recorded. Just that Elijah heard God in pure stillness.

The Voice in the Silence

What was this? This moment is as mystical as it is mystifying. What happened here? How do you hear silence? Why would God not be in the powerful displays that preceded this? The Quaker mystic Thomas Kelly wrote about encountering God in the silence. He writes this,

Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continually return. Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto Itself. Yielding to these persuasions, gladly committing ourselves in body and soul, utterly and completely, to the Light Within, is the beginning of true life. It is a dynamic center, a creative Life that presses to birth within us. It is a Light Within that illumines the face of God and casts new shadows and new glories upon the human face. It is a seed stirring to life if we do not choke it. It is the Shekinah of the soul, the Presence in the midst.(Kelly, Testament of Devotion, 9-10)

Perhaps God is teaching Elijah where God is truly found and where strength truly comes from.

In the silence, Elijah’s soul was laid bare, and there was God’s presence in the midst. In the silence, you are left confronting your inner thoughts and memories, scrutinizing what gives you confidence and what brings you doubt. In the silence, if we learn to listen well, the lies we are told and the lies we tell ourselves, all our worldly claims to status and significance, circle, spin, and sputter until eventually they run out of steam. And when that happens, we are left, left in that thin space where the Spirit of God that speaks from on high and the Spirit of God that calls out from the depths of our souls—the Shekinah of the soul, as Kelly put it—speak together as one, although often without words.

There in the silence, Elijah encountered the one who is beyond all things but in all things.

Elijah encountered the one who is beyond all thought and action, all institutions and traditions, all authorities and powers, yet the one who is present, faithful, and true.

Elijah encountered the one whom Moses encountered, the “I am that I am,” the one who simply is, the one who is with us.

And because of this, Elijah also found himself.

In this moment, it seems, Elijah received an ordination of sorts, a re-confirmation of his calling.

It is there in the silence, in those moments unmediated by any earthly power or authority, when we stand before God and are answerable to Spirit alone, there, as we Baptists would say, in the liberty and responsibility of our souls, the liberty and responsibility that is ours and no one else’s. It is in this space that we find our true calling.

As Andrew knows, I must have sketched half a dozen sermon outlines, pondering over which scripture to speak to you on today. Yet, I felt drawn, a pull from deep within, to this word.

I was also drawn to this passage because of the person Andrew is. You are free to compare him to the prophet Elijah if you wish, but that is not strictly what I mean. I was drawn to this passage because I know Andrew’s convictions and calling, Andrew’s sense of Spirit. We have had so many good conversations over the nature of God and the Christian life, the meaning of the church, often on my back deck, but also over food, usually at the Noodle Guys.

What can I say? God fed the Israelites manna for their spiritual journey, and for others, it seems to be Asiago shells or mushroom ravioli.

Sometimes we have talked for hours, laughed and joked, other times we have sat in the silence and watched the stars come out.

And in all these moments, in various ways, I have gotten a sense of God’s presence: in our friendship, in Andrew’s life, in the moments of stillness.

It is in the moments of vulnerability and honesty before God, when we dare to have them, that we know who we are and what we are called for.

For many of us, while we were on different career paths, we heard God’s call and, in doing so, realized who we were meant to be. We felt called to proclaim God’s word, to steward a community, to care for the vulnerable, realizing that walking with God and walking alongside others in their walk with God is our life’s calling. 

The Vocation in the Silence

Andrew, as you step forward in ordination, as this community of disciples recognizes this in you, and you continue to shepherd this flock, remember those moments in the stillness. Remember the moments you spend with God where you first understood your calling. You will need to draw on them for strength and practice them continually, for there will be times of discouragement which we all face.

So, it was for Elijah. If you can believe it, Elijah, one of the greatest prophets of God, doubted his calling.

Elijah, the man who saw fire rain down from heaven on a waterlogged pyre, the man nourished by angels, a man who for all intents and purposes should have had an ironclad faith and invincible sense of vocation—this Elijah we find here in a cave, on the run, disheartened: wondering where has God’s kingdom gone, wondering where are all those who stand up for God’s truth and justice, wondering how can God be all powerful in the face of such rampant tyranny and murder, wondering if any of his work made a difference, wondering how can God’s ways prevail when he is the only one left? Perhaps in these dark days, we have wondered similar things.

Yet, there he encountered God. Sometimes we expect God to speak in dramatic ways, but God does not speak in a vision or even in words in that moment. More perplexing is that it comes after three amazing displays of power that almost certainly should be interpreted as evidence of God’s presence. After all, God did appear to Moses in a pillar of fire, to Jonathan in an earthquake, and to Job in a whirlwind.

What happened in this moment seems more subtle but more profound than any outward display of power, more than any spectacle, no matter how supernatural.

Perhaps God was correcting Elijah. Perhaps, as many of us assume, Elijah had come to believe that God works through power as humans understand power: through grand interventions, through kings and armies, through numerical growth, through money, status, and awards. Perhaps Elijah lost sight of the more radical way God works: through the small things, through seemingly insignificant acts of authenticity, not in the noise and spectacle but in the calmness and stillness.

Elijah’s soul encountered the sheer presence of God. Before Elijah went out to the mountain, he was questioning; he was discouraged; he felt alone and afraid; he wanted to give up. But in that moment, something happened. He sensed something more powerful than all earthly power. And yet, it made no noise, nor could it even be seen.  Something so easy to miss. He felt the sense of the divine. He knew the presence of God. And that was enough.

God was enough for him as God is enough for us. God is enough for every struggle and every need we could ever have.

When we behold the presence of God, we know what we have to do. We know who we are. We know our purpose and direction.

In God, we know we are enough.

It says after this, God instructed him and sent him on his way. God tells him to go and raise up the next prophets and the next kings that will overturn the tyranny and idolatry of the current regime. His work has not been in vain. The resistance has not been snuffed out. God’s kingdom had not been defeated or usurped. It is alive within us. There is hope. With God, there is always hope.

Brothers and sisters, may we never forget this, for when we forget his presence, we can lose sight of our purpose.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. writes of encountering this same presence of God in times of discouragement. In his autobiography, Stride Towards Freedom, he writes of his work in combatting the injustice and evil of his day—evils that are sadly still with us today—but one night he got a death threat on the phone. It shook him to the core. He could not sleep, and in the long hours of the night, he grew afraid. He went down to his kitchen. He recounts,

I was ready to give up. With my cup of coffee sitting untouched before me, I tried to think of a way to move out of the picture without appearing a coward. In this state of exhaustion, when my courage had all but gone, I decided to take my problem to God. With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud. The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory. “I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I’ve come to the point where I can’t face it alone.”

He then writes,

At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced God before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: “Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever.” Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.”(King, Stride Toward Freedom, 134-135)

Sometimes I have noticed that the more meaningful the ministry, the more dogged the discouragement can be.  Opposition comes at the most pivotal points. The night, as they say, is darkest before the dawn.

In those moments, we must look to God. We must sit in the stillness of prayer and scripture. Look within to conscience and calling. Rest in the presence of our God, the great friend to humanity, the one who is perfect love and justice. The one who is our hope.

We can be tempted to measure our calling with earthly standards of success, but as the pastor who preached at my ordination, Tim Walker, said to me—and so, I pass this important advice on to you today—we are not called to success; our purpose is not to “grow the church,” we are not perpetuators of institutions, it is our job first and foremost to be faithful. We are not called to “success” but to faithfulness.

When we remember this, when we know and trust who God is, we know who we are and what we were meant for.

My charge for Andrew today is to hold tight to this presence.

Be who God has called you to be.

Be the one who you know before God you were meant to be.

Be the proclaimer of God’s word.

Be the shepherd of God’s flock.

Be the truth seeker, the justice advocator, the movement organizer, God has called you to be.

Know that your intellect, your emotions, your story, your character, your good humour—know that even the things you might not like about yourself, all are a part of who God is calling you to be.

You are ordained to the calling that is for you before God, God and no other, for the good work God had for you, you and no one else.

A Community Ready to Listen

Just know, Andrew—as I am sure you already know—that this hallowed calling, this sacred work, does not have to be done alone.

I remember the words of one Baptist leader, Kyle Childress (whom I had the pleasure of interviewing while writing my dissertation). He said that to believe the Baptist distinctive of soul liberty, but to do so in community, is to believe in the possibility—when community is done well—that there should be “no more lonely prophets.”

Of course, what he means by this is not that we wouldn’t go through times of discouragement in solitude. It means that if we hold that the Spirit of Christ as been poured out on all flesh, the presence of Christ is where two or three are gathered, that to be the church today, a community of souls responsible to God, covenanting together, discerning together, is to know that the work of pursuing God’s word and truth, spreading the gospel in word and deed, caring for others and nurturing the bonds of fellowship—this is not the task of one person.

This calling of listening and following God’s presence is not limited to the pastorate but is entrusted to the whole people of God.

Lawrencetown United Baptist Church, gathered disciples in the name of Jesus, we the people of God, ordain Andrew today, recognizing the Spirit’s empowering in his life, but this is not just Andrew’s ordination, but yours. Today, you also reaffirm your calling.

Will you be a people always committed to listening to that still voice of God?

Will you be a people committed to following the truth of Spirit?

Will you be a people committed to growing the love of God, pursuing the justice of God, sharing the joy of God and to do this together?

Brothers and sisters, may we commit and recommit ourselves to this sacred calling, now, today, tomorrow, and always, knowing that Christ promises that he will be with us, even unto the end of the age. Amen.

The Election and the Choice of Empathy

I had a long and wonderful chat with my oldest driving home from volleyball about politics and the election. I felt so proud as a father that my son has taken an interest in matters of justice, to see him mature, care, and think (and also grace me with talking to his poor, uncool Dad). The conversation was spurn on by the fact that I had bought a used copy of a book by Jimmy Carter awhile ago, and I pulled it off my shelf that day looking for a quotation, all to find that it was actually signed by Carter itself. I felt a drive to read the whole book out of some impression of just how precious this work was, how pertinent for our time. I could not put it down, reading his wise and saintly words.

So, it spurred a conversation about why don’t all Christians think the same way about politics with my son. I tried to say there have been Christian influences in all the different political parties in Canada and it depends on what set of concerns some Christians believe are the most important. At University of Toronto, I had the pleasure of being the TA for Rev. Dr. Reginald Stackhouse for his course on the Ethics of Wealth and Poverty in the Christian tradition. He was a man who served at one point as an Anglican priest and a Red Tory MP before becoming a professor, and he got me to read Edmund Burke (the principle thinker of what it means to be “progressive conservative”: the notion that social progress can be enacted through traditional values and institutions), as well as the great Canadian philosopher, George Grant, who believed in a timeless good that must found our approaches to liberty and use of technology. Grant’s vision of a Canadian Nationalism against American corporate, empire-like forces is as important today as it was then. At a conference as U of T, I also had the pleasure of meeting and having a conversation with Nicholas Wolterstorff, and he lectured on his book, which shows how the liberal tradition and its commitment to inalienable human rights is actually, historically, based on the Christian commitment to humans being made in the image of God. Human rights were developed in Europe by Christians well before the Enlightenment, and Christians continue to taken up this logic: if humans have dignity being made in God’s image, there are certain things we will do to uphold that dignity and certain things we will not against that, whether that is banning the death penalty or refusing as best we can to violate the choices we all have to make as to what our convictions are and which God will we worship (or not). If God sees us all as having equal worth we ought to live towards a way of realizing that, despite as well as in and through our differences. I took courses at the Institute for Christians Studies—a wonderful learning community of Christian philosophers—and did course work on the Frankfurt school of critical theory: mostly Jewish philosophers that saw what happened in Nazi Germany and in Russia with Stalinist-Lenninist Communism and reflected deeply on the nature of oppression and authoritarianism in culture. Theodor Adorno’s work, Minima Moralia, is an attempt to ponder “all things broken awaiting messianic light” in a way that has the kind of brutal honesty a modern prophet should have. Also, I pastored a church that had historic roots in the Social Gospel: folks who walked with Tommy Douglas, fighting for unions and worker rights. Douglas believed in universal health care because if we need our bodies to be free, to make health based on one’s financial means was to directly say the rich are worth more than the poor and will thus always be more free. One lady in my church told me how her father, a union advocate for the mines in Sudbury, would at dinner read the Bible and the minutes of parliament and pray God’s kingdom come. The Social Gospel holds that salvation touches all parts of life, not mere souls escaping a hopeless earth to get to a blissful hereafter, and so, seeking a common life where violence is reduced, poverty is alleviated, and illness is healed are all parts of what it means to see “God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Yet, when I was pastoring in Sudbury, I was an active member of the Green Party, supporting them because I was very impressed with Elizabeth May. Green thinking around sustainability combines ethical and fiscal responsibility that deeply impresses me. The local Green candidate, who of course did not have a blessed chance at getting elected (the area is an NDP stronghold), was a friend, an organic farmer that helped the church build our community gardens, and I decided that supporting good people was more important than trying to vote for who I thought could “win.” Christians have all kinds of reasons and influences for thinking the way they do, and my own convictions have changed significantly over my life.

I tried to say that many Christians have not thought well about what convictions they see as applicable to everyone politically and what should be reserved for one’s conscience or their own religious community. Some think issues like abortion, traditional marriage, and somehow denying the realities of what transgender individuals face (much less the responsiblity to make society and church community safe for them) are so clear and uniform in the Bible and Christian tradition that they warrant being something Christians should seek to advance on behalf of everyone—even if others don’t want it (I must admit some frustration with these folks, if only because it feels like the loud default of so many—and let me be the first to say that theologically these matters are not as clear as they often claim). Some are solely concerned at preserving an individual’s liberty against any and all government interference as a chief good (I don’t know how that is possible in modern, interconnected society without this allowing corporations to take over our common life or this merely reinforcing a privileged class’ liberty against a marginalized one but okay). Meanwhile, others see issues of social justice and social rights, how we care for the most vulnerable and voiceless of society through our political and democratic will is really the more apparent convictions that Christians ought to advance as our witness (and of course, others would say these are only things for the churches and charities to do). Others see environmental sustainability as the primary issue effecting human flourishing today and for the future. Some see wars we need to support as essential to advancing good, while other Christians are pacifists, believing Christians should have no part in violence. The list goes on.

On top of that, there are practical complexities to voting in Canada: Does my vote support the local MP (their experience and character), the party and its policies, or the person who will be Prime Minister? How do we ensure an accountable democratic process, honest journalism, and rigorous education so that we can even be at liberty to vote and discuss these things that matter well? (I will here admit my frustration at the stuff being turned out by American-owned news companies in Canada like the Sun and the National Post as opposed to the publicly owned and funded CBC, which, while certainly not unbiased, still offers so much more balance and accuracy). Fundamental to this election for many is a candidate that is economically and morally qualified to stand up to Donald Trump and what Trump means as an existential threat to Canadian prosperity and global stability, but of course, people don’t all agree. There are some Canadians that really do believe Canada should become the 51st state and follow suit.

I hear those voices and I struggle. I struggle to see them as thoughtful, informed, and consistent, but it would be a sad error to believe all the people that disagree with me are obviously dumb or dangerous. And so, I tried to say something to my son that I hope all Christians in this election season can understand: it is not obvious. If you think things are obvious, you are probably doing it wrong. To understand just how complex people and politics are should always be, as a Christian, a cue towards gentleness and understanding. Christians should read, think, and care about their convictions (see the read list above of books that have influenced me), if only to resist the poisonous noice of outrage, scapegoating, and spin that the powers so much want us to drink up and accept as the way things are and should stay, despite it slowly killing us. Don’t listen to the pundits and sycophants. Listen to the great lights of the past for inspiration like Jimmy Carter or MLK, folks who walked with integrity, paid dearly to do what is right, and offer something that will feed our souls in this soulless age. Christians should passionately advocate for justice in our world, but understand Christianity is diverse, the Bible and tradition are many-voiced conversation of what God’s kingdom looks like and how we might see it. I ask myself continually: who am I privileging in thinking this way? Who could I be hurting if this is my vision of an ideal society? Are not those folks just as much God’s children as I? Can my vision of justice really be so if it is willing to leave someone behind? It is possible to be honest without being haughty as well as kind without compromising. In light of that, choose empathy over judgment.

Listening to Listen: Abortion and Becoming “Pro-Voice”

Happy Belated Canada Day, everyone. When I originally signed up to speak with you a few weeks back, my obvious thought for a sermon was to speak on faith and our nation, seeing that it was right after Canada Day. I had that sermon ready to go.

But the events of this week south of the border have been on my heart and mind. It is an oddly Canadian thing to feel connected to the controversies in the United States. Some days Canadians follow politics in the States closer than our own, perhaps because our politics are just so much more respectful, we feel bored listening to it.

The United States Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, and that has us Canadians talking about it, even though it does not directly affect us. It has been all over CBC Radio, which I listen to on the way to work. For many of us, we feel connected to these events. Many of us have American family members. Many of my friends are American Baptist pastors. Many of us wonder whether something like this could happen here. Others of us hear the toxic rhetoric from our own circles.

Over social media, I have seen a disturbing mix of gloating on the part of conservatives and rage on the part of liberals, finger-pointing memes that attempt cute but all too simplistic “gotcha moments” like it is all one big game.

For conservatives, the gloating justifies why they supported Donald Trump, finally coming to fruition. Supporting an immoral man so that republicans could control the Supreme Court was worth it. For others, this marks a terrible victory for bigotry that is taking over the public discourse, where people have climbed into places of power using lies and demagoguery, pushing the United States closer to something like Margaret Atwood’s dystopia, Gilead.

For us, north of the border, I am very thankful that we have a completely independent judiciary, can I just say. I also feel like we are watching our neighbours, our closest ally in the world, pull themselves apart. The rage is palpable as the protests by both sides edge closer and closer to violence. I wonder if the US is on a collision course for another civil war.

And so, I told the organizers of the service this week that I would speak on the topic of abortion today. But let’s be clear about something up front:

This is not a liberal versus conservative issue.

This is a scriptural discernment issue.

This is a truth and compassion issue.

This is an issue that involves people.

When the world wants to shout, I think that is a good indication for us, Christians, that we need to stop and listen, but not to the shouting. We need to listen to the whispers of God’s voice in Scripture; we need to listen to the advice of our Baptist forebearers, but also, we need to listen to each other, especially to the cries of the lives affected, the voices of women.

So, I have entitled this sermon “Learning to Listen: Abortion and Becoming ‘Pro-Voice.’” The term Pro-Voice is based on an excellent book by Aspen Baker that I will reference later.

1.   Listening to Scripture

So, first, can we listen to what God might have to tell us in Scripture? I say that knowing that this is a debate where people love citing the Bible as if it is obvious and clear on the matter. However, let me survey some of the Scriptures people cite in these debates, and let me suggest that perhaps the voice of God might not be saying what people try to make it say.

This is a topic that cannot be discussed by just one Scripture. As I thought about it, there is really no other way to handle this than by going through a couple¾there are about half a dozen of them–that people bring up (there are others, but these are the most pertinent ones). So, that is what we are going to do.

Now, there are several scriptures that don’t say much at all about this issue that constantly get quoted. So, let’s start with those:

A.    Psalm 139

For instance, Psalm 139:13 says, “For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” There are similar ones in the books of Job and Jeremiah. I saw this on a billboard driving through the South one time, but it really has nothing to say about the legal status of a fetus. Technically, God knits all life together. So, already, one of the most commonly cited passages in this debate says actually very little.

B.     Luke 1

There are other Scriptures that are not as convincing but have some weight to them. One of these is how in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 1, Elizabeth, pregnant with John the Baptist, sees Mary, who is pregnant with Jesus, and it says that the “child leapt in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit.” You see this one often around Christmas time. Some have taken this to imply that, obviously then, all fetuses are children. Well, I don’t think that is really Luke’s point in this passage, but be that as it may, we also don’t know how far along Elizabeth was. To feel a baby leaping is something that would happen well into the second trimester, so if this text does speak to this issue, it does not seem to say anything about the condition of the unborn in the first trimester. In Canada, 90% of abortions happen in the first trimester before movements can be felt. So, this text doesn’t say enough.

C.     Genesis 1

A much more important text in this debate is Genesis chapter one, verse 27: “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

This term “image” is used later in the book of Genesis to speak about how Adam’s son, Seth, is like him in his image. It is a parental term. If you were to look at my sons, you might say they are chips off the old block. They look like me. They are in my image. Genesis 1 is saying that all humans are God’s children; God sees himself in them and them in him. Genesis 1 teaches that human life has inherent dignity and worth in God’s eyes, no matter the gender, the health, the mental ability, which should say something when we are placed in a position to decide what kind of human life is worth living.

However, as important as this passage is, this passage does not tell us when a human person, in the legal sense, begins. It tells us the worth of human life, but not its origin. So, it is important, but it is only one piece of the puzzle.

D.    Exodus 21

The only passage in the Bible that deals with the destruction of a fetus is Exodus, chapter 21. It reads as follows:

22 “When people who are fighting injure a pregnant woman so that there is a miscarriage and yet no further harm follows, the one responsible shall be fined what the woman’s husband demands, paying as much as the judges determine. 23 If any harm follows, then you shall give life for life, 24 eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, 25 burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

The laws of the Old Testament are made up of different types. You have some, like the ten commandments, that are direct: Do not commit adultery, do not lie, etc. Others, like this one, is a case law that work as applications: if this happens, you should do that.

This situation is a fight where a pregnant woman is struck, and a miscarriage happens, and if the woman is harmed permanently, the offender is harmed in retribution. It is not the case when a woman seeks an abortion. For in the Hebrew mindset, birth control of any kind was just not on their radar because the ideal was to have as many children as you could.

This is the only case where the destruction of a fetus occurs, and according to this passage, a fine is paid. It is paid to the husband because he, in that culture, was considered the patriarch and lord over his wife, who has his property. So, one quickly feels that this is a text written for its own time and place.

Nevertheless, the most important detail of this text is that a fine is paid. According to Old Testament laws, if you murdered a person, you got the death penalty, life for a life. The implication here is that if a miscarriage happens, and we are not told anything about how far along the pregnant woman is, the offender pays a fine. Thus, it implies a legal person has not been killed.

Some more conservative commentators have tried to argue that this is merely referring to a premature birth, that the word for miscarriage could mean something else, but that is not how it was understood in its own time or in later Rabbinical and Christian commentaries.

However, some later Jewish commentators argue that this case only refers to when it happens to a woman in the first half of her pregnancy, before the fetus is formed sufficiently. In the second half, it could be considered murder.

And so, some have argued that just as Scripture pushes God’s people toward equality between men and women as the biblical narrative progresses, so also does Christian tradition become more sensitive with regard to the unborn.

But the question remains, when does a fetus become a person? When does it become a legal person? When should the government protect what it can discern to be human life?

Some have argued, based on this passage, that a person is a person when they take their first breath after birth. When the first human in the Bible, Adam, was made a living soul, this occurs in Genesis 2 when God breathed into him the breath of life. With the first breath after birth, the human person is identifiable. This was the view of Palestinian Jews in ancient times, and in modern times, this argument was made by the Baptist ethicist Paul Simmons.

However, is breath the real mark of life with dignity? After all, there are lots of creatures out there that are alive but don’t have lungs and acquire oxygen in other ways, and we believe in animal rights. A fetus gets oxygen through the blood in the umbilical cord. Does that count?

If the first breath is the mark of personhood, can a pregnant woman have an abortion right up until labour starts? Late-term abortions are very rare, and in Canada, they are really only done when the life of the mother is at stake. In Canada, abortions after the 21st week of pregnancy account for 0.59% of all abortions.

On the other side of the spectrum is the view that a human person begins at conception. This is probably the one we are most familiar with, often called “life at conception,” but that is a misnomer in the debate. No one is debating whether life begins at conception. In fact, the sperm and ovum are also alive before conception. The question is rather does a fertilized zygote, a set of multiplying cells, which does not have thought, a nervous system, or a heart, so small it could fit on the end of a pin, growing to about the size of a lentil as an embryo–should this be considered a legal person? Baptist ethicists like David Gushee and the late Glenn Stassen hold that the sanctity of human life compels them to refuse abortion even at this early stage.

Early Christian writers like Clement and others support a similar view. They held this view because they assumed the philosophy of Plato. What does that mean? Plato believed that humans have souls in the sense that what made the person truly a person was not based on their bodies or brains but was based on an eternal substance of the mind that could be divorced from the body and brain. That is a bit different from the earlier Jewish belief in the soul that would say that while we have a spiritual dimension to ourselves, it is always in connection to our bodies. One writer put it that we don’t so much have a soul. We are a soul, a holistic unity of spirit and flesh. We are enspirited bodies.

So, several early Christian writers adopted this more Platonic notion that separates mind and body, soul and flesh, and by this, a zygote from the beginning of conception has a full soul, the same as a fully developed human. And this position became Catholic dogma and, by extension, the default setting of most of Christianity, including the modern pro-life movement.

Now, as I said, the early church and Judaism had two wings in the spectrum of their views: one was personhood beginning at first breath, the other, beginning at conception. However, there was a diversity in the early church and Judaism.

The most common view was a middle-ground view. Thinkers like the Alexandrian Jewish writers but also important Christian writers like Tertullian, Origen and Augustine (if you don’t recognize these names, let’s just say they are heavy hitters in theology). They believed that a fetus was a person somewhere in the second trimester, corresponding to the degree of the formation of the fetus.

Now, we know today that a fetus’s heart is discernable at six weeks. But does a heartbeat define a human person?

We know that somewhere around the 12th week, the fetus has a formed nervous system and thus, probably can feel pain. Does the ability to feel pain indicate to us that this is a life we need to protect? 80% of abortions in Canada occur before the 12th week.

We know that the fetus becomes viable around the 24th week, which means if it was born then, it’s probable that it would live. Is this the point where the government has the prerogative to say an abortion should not take place unless the life of the mother is at risk? As I said before, late-term abortions are very rare in Canada.

2.   Listening to Our Baptist Principles

As you can see, this topic is one that leads to more and more questions. What do we do with that? I have learned that the principles of our Baptist tradition were devised in many ways to aid the believer in walking these difficult paths, where the road ahead comes to a blind crest. So, what might our Baptist principles tell us?

While I don’t think Baptists are automatically the “best” Christians, much less the “only” Christians, I do think our Baptist principles can be virtuous practices that can help us navigate this complex post-Christian, post-modern world we live in.

A.    Humans have Rights and Freedoms

One principle that all Christians share is that we believe that because we are all made in God’s image, all human life has dignity and has been bestowed rights and freedoms. Baptists have particularly emphasized rights and freedoms.

Now, someone might pipe up and say then what about the rights of the unborn? Here is a tension between the rights of the pregnant woman and potentially the rights of the unborn.

B.     Separation of Church and State

In this case, I believe it is important to keep in mind the second Baptist principle: separation of church and state.

That is to say that if we believe that life begins at conception, and by that a full person because a full soul is imparted at conception if this is a premise based on the beliefs of Christianity, a particular belief about the soul, my Baptist faith cautions me from imposing this view on others who might not share it.

Again, someone might say that imposing this view is necessary when human life is in danger. Many would insist that a fertilized zygote is a potential human being, and by the sanctity of human life in any form, it ought to be protected.

But this conversation must admit that what it means to be a person and when a person begins legally is not clear, both in public discourse and in Jewish and Christian theology. As we have been asking: Is it at conception? An established heartbeat? The development of a nervous system? Fetal viability? Or at first breath after birth? Arguments can and have been made for all of these with no clear winner.

If we cannot prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that one option is the obvious standout, we ought not to be insisting that the government enforce one view, particularly not the earlier ones that impose so much on a woman against her will.

C.     Liberty of Conscience

In this case, another Baptist principle is important to keep in mind: we believe in the liberty of all people to decide matters based on their conscience.

Now, this is not an absolute liberty. This does not mean we ought to be free to do anything we want. I did not have the right, as we have seen in the pandemic, to jeopardize the health of my neighbours or co-workers or people I interact with in public spaces but refuse to wear a mask or show vaccination information. Governments and organizations do have the right to regulate spaces based on health and safety.  

And if the nature of the unborn was obvious, as some think it is, I can see a better case to say why it ought not to be left up to choice.

While it is not a person’s decision that makes a fetus into a person, it is up to people to recognize another person, and the question is, who has this power? Who has the right to pronounce when a zygote, an embryo, or a fetus becomes a person when the matters are not clear?

If these matters are not obvious, it is appropriate then that the power of this decision lay neither in the hands of the state nor the church nor the biological father, who simply does not have the same bodily risk in the matter, but rather the power of this decision should reside in the hands of the person who will be most affected by that decision, namely the pregnant woman herself.

This does not mean that we have to view a decision always as the right decision. There are lots of bad reasons to have an abortion, but at the end of the day, the responsibility falls on the woman herself to make this difficult choice.

3.   Listening to Each Other, especially Women

If we can understand these things, this issue takes on a different character. It is quite possible for Christians to occupy a muddy middle ground that sees abortions as a tragedy but is not interested in imposing our convictions on another person using the laws of our nation.  

We can ¾in fact, we must¾resist the either-or of our polarized culture and its toxic, corrosive effects on honesty, decency, and thoughtfulness. We can be profoundly and fervently committed to the dignity of all human life but admit that there is a right way and a wrong way to go about that.

A.    Accepting the Diversity of Voices

In the midst of a world that is divided and diverse and even a church that is as well, I know people who take their views and live them out graciously. I know people who are pro-life that have chosen to adopt the babies of unwanted pregnancies. On the other end of the spectrum, I know Christian social workers who are pro-choose that have worked at deep personal expense to help women out of abuse and poverty through education and empowerment. I think the church would be impoverished if we refused to see the good character of either of these people.

I think of the conviction of former US president and evangelical Baptist Jimmy Carter. He writes in his important book, Our Endangered Values, that during his presidency, he believed that the Bible taught the sanctity of all life, so he was and still is, personally, against abortion. However, he also believed in the separation of church and state. He believed it was the right of a nation to choose its values democratically. So, instead, he funded programs to help young women and mothers–things like sex education, birth control, free contraception, testing, funded daycares programs, work programs, etc.–so that if a woman truly wanted to keep her baby, she could feel supported. The result was that abortions were lower doing his presidency than during the two Republican pro-life/anti-abortion presidents that came before him and him after.

The right way to go about this issue involves giving people the space to work out for themselves what quite possibly could be the most difficult, life-altering, haunting decision a woman could make in her life.

The right way is to listen to and support people medically, financially, and emotionally–people who are vulnerable and scared and only then do people feel empowered to make an informed decision because they know they are not alone.

B.     Listening and Walking with Women

Aspen Baker formed an organization that is devoted to doing just that. Her philosophy, the title of this sermon, is called “pro-voice.” Look up her Ted Talk on this subject. Her organization is a helpline devoted to listening to the needs of women who have had abortions. She believes that one of the most important things we can do in this debate is to listen to the experiences and needs of women without judgment.

And this does not mean all women will think the same way. What she found was that there were many on the pro-choice side that valorized abortion as liberating. Feminists that when they got pregnant, just could not bring themselves to have an abortion or when they did have one, they found themselves experiencing regret, guilt, and anguish.

On the other side, she handled calls by women, fathers, husbands, and pastors who were adamantly pro-life before, but because of certain complicated circumstances, they ended up considering that abortion might be the necessary path, and they felt deeply unprepared to consider these things.  

Aspen Baker, in her book, speaks about navigating life in the areas that are gray, where the questions do not lead to clear and definite answers. The question we have been asking (although there are many other questions in this debate) is when does the fetus become a human person, a person in the legally definable sense? How do we live this out? And when we have surveyed the most pertinent Scriptures, we come up short of complete answers.

Now, I am sure you all want me to solve this issue for you. I could tell you where I feel most comfortable drawing that line. But I am a man that has never experienced anything a pregnant woman might face. It is not my decision, nor is it an obvious decision. Let me just tell you that some issues are not easily solved. In fact, they shouldn’t.

Can I tell you I have so badly wanted these questions to have an easy answer? When I was in my first year of Bible college, I had a friend that knew me as a Christian and as a Christian that always had an answer for things. She came to me quite troubled. She was pregnant. She was pregnant with twins. However, one twin died and became what is called a molar pregnancy, essentially becoming something like a tumour that kept growing. Doctors said it should be removed as it could cause serious health risks (infertility, even cancer, later on), but to do this, the other baby–that is the term she used¾had to be aborted and removed.

What would you do if that were you? What would you say to her if you were me? If you can believe it, in Bible College, I was a member of the pro-life club, and my answer as the plucky and ultra-pious, know-it-all Bible college student was: “Don’t do it. Abortion is wrong. Pray and have faith.”

This woman–fortunately–did not listen to me. She went ahead with the procedure, and because of it, she is healthy today and has gone on to have a family.

That experience impressed me that life and faith might be more complicated than I want them to be. Anyone who says the solution is obviously this or that is usually someone who has not really come to grips with the complexities of life and the intricacies of the Bible. Life and morality are not always an obvious thing.

It can be frighting thinking about just how messy and grey the world can be.

It can feel scary not knowing what to think, especially if you believe that your salvation depends on believing and doing the right things.

This can cause many of us to retreat into easy answers, black and white thinking that permits neither questions nor alternatives.

But it is here in reality, in this messy thing called life, that our humanity is found.

And it is here that God’s grace finds us: not despite our humanity but in it.

C.     The Character of Grace

If we can realize this, we must know that to become a mature follower of Christ in this complicated world involves moving from partisan politics and obsessing over having the right position or policy (although these have their place) to simply dwelling with people, hearing their stories, and being a gracious presence there in their midst.

I have learned the difficult lesson as a theologian, who has devoted my life to reading Scripture and the great works of theology, all to strive to synthesize the best answers on doctrinal topics in our pursuit of truth (which I believe is a pursuit we all must do). I have learned that some issues don’t have clear answers–that’s the truth–and sometimes in life, the point of things is not having the answer, but meeting these difficult situations with a certain character, that difficult balance of honesty and empathy, conviction and compassion, and that this is the only way to live with a clear conscience in this corrupted world.

If this is the case, we might listen and hear the voice of God from Scripture say something else beyond the Scriptures we just surveyed. In all the ambiguity of life, the Word of God might simply be saying something like this:

“Let everyone,” says the Apostle James, “be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to become angry” (James 1:19).

Or it might be what Paul simply advises, that in all the fragmentation and division in this world, he simply says, “Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” (Eph. 4:32)

Or it might be what the Prophet Micah said, “What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8). When life gets complex, sometimes the only thing we can do is be fair and forgiving and admit that in all of life’s moments, whether moments of success or failure, joy or tragedy, we need God. We need the grace revealed in Jesus Christ. We need the one who has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Deut. 31:6).

No matter what our views on anything, all we can do, all we must do, from beginning to end, is to trust that.

“What Do You Want to Be Known For?” My Final Sermon at First Baptist Church of Sudbury

first-baptist-church-sudbury-ontario

What do you want to be known for?

Interestingly you can take courses online on how to be known for things. They are called personal branding courses. They are marketed to business people, and the theory is just as a company should be known for a motto and a certain style, so you should be too. The course essentially gets people to think in simple terms:

Because I am x, I am known for doing y.  Or Since I do y, I am x. Answer that yourself. Think about it.

What do you want to be known for? What does First Baptist want to be known for? It is something I have thought about this week.

A few people have asked me, “Now that it is your last sermon, you get to say whatever you want, because you are leaving.” Like I can now air out a list of grievances that I have kept to myself for five years, like this is Seinfeld’s Festivus: “I got a lot of problems with you people and now you’re gonna hear about it.” [Spoken in Jerry Stiller’s voice, of course].

I have to admit, I really don’t have grievances or axes to grind or anything of that sort.

As I looked through the scriptures, I came to 1 Cor. 2, which actually had Paul reporting to the Corinthians what he resolved to do and be when he was with them, and therefore, I think, what he wanted to be known for.

I think it is the right answer. It is the answer that we should all strive for. He writes:

“I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” – 1 Cor. 2:2

I have resolved to know nothing, except Jesus Christ and him crucified. Paul wants above all else to be known for the Gospel. I do not want my last sermon to be about me (although I will tell a story or two). As I planned out my final sermon, I have resolved to center it on the most important thing I can be about and First Baptist can be about: who Jesus is, the Gospel.

The Gospel is our salvation, our purpose, our unity, our joy and hope.

1. The Gospel is Our Salvation

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. 10 In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.” (1 John 4: 7-10)

“Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David—that is my gospel,” (2 Tim. 2:8)

I admit, 1 John 4 is probably my favourite chapter in the Bible. I had to mention it on my last sermon! God is love because God was found in the person and work of Jesus. That is our Gospel.

Our Gospel is that God is love. God is our creator. He made the world out of his generosity.  He has made every human being in his image and likeness, as his children even though we, as prodigal sons and daughters, have failed to realize him as our Father.

We worship a God that made us, loves us, and will not see any of his creation be lost. We do not worship a God that only loves some of his creation or only seeks to save some of his creation, but a God the loves perfectly without limitation.

We know God is love because God is a Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, an eternal community of love in one being. Before the world began, before creation and sin, God is love.

God came in Jesus Christ, in human form, in sinful flesh, to show the loving solidarity of God with all sinful humanity, and the restoration of God’s people in him.

God in Jesus Christ died on a cross, died a cursed death, the death of a sinner for all sinners, to show us sinners, he has died our death. It is the mystery of our faith that constantly baffles me: God in Christ loved us more than his very bodily self. God is that kind of self-less love.

God our Father raised Jesus from the dead to show a love that is victorious and powerful. As Jesus has taken on our flesh, now in Jesus, we all have the hope that the very worst of this world, the very things that have stolen us away from his love – these things do not have the final say.

As my friend, Brad Jersak was saying this week, “God is love. God is not love but also just or holy or wrathful. God is love period.”

God’s love is holy because it is pure. God is infinite because his love is immeasurable. God’s love is powerful because it is unfailing. God’s love is just because he is in equal measure merciful. God’s love is capable of anger because God’s love passionately cries out to a world gone astray, hoping that we would change and come back to him.

We understand all of God through Jesus. We understand all of God through Jesus’ cross. If there is an idea of God that contradicts the display of a God who would willing give up his very life for us because of his great love for us, we simply have departed from the God of the Gospel.

God’s love is not simple or sentimental, it is complex and mysterious, surprising even uncomfortable, but it always comes back to love. It is always understood through love.

If we can define God in any way other than love, as I have found, we will inevitably find ourselves without a Gospel that offers salvation to us sinners.

We stand on the Gospel that God is love. If God is not a God of consistently personal, perfect, and powerful love, we simply do not have a Gospel. Period.

One pastor told me that preaching is the fine art of being a broken record. If I have been a broken record these past five years, I have also learned that this truth is so counter-intuitive to our limited, sin-soaked minds, that we have to constantly remember it, re-hear it, re-tell it, and re-live it.

Otherwise we simply forget it. Never forget this, First Baptist Church.

2. The Gospel is Our Purpose

“To live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Phil. 1:21).

The Apostle Paul writes this to the Philippians saying life for him is serving Jesus, walking with Jesus, being willing to die for Jesus, death being nothing in comparison to having Jesus.

When you know what you are about, you have purpose, nothing else matters.

Funny story: I know a person that put that as their high school year book blurb, and the school called the police because they were worried he was suicidal.

We ended up going to college together. He is now a pastor in BC. He is not suicidal, he just believes in something this world does not understand. Although he probably has gone a little nuts since he has a big batch of kids like I do. As long as I have known him, he has lived with purpose.

When we rest in Jesus Christ, when we draw close to him, when we resolve to know nothing but his Gospel, we are captivated by the beauty of what he is, and we want to live that love out to others. That is our purpose: We live to see what the Gospel can do in us and others. That is what gets me up in the morning (other than screaming babies).

Sharing the Gospel can take on implicit and explicit ways. I have gotten to share the Gospel on Sunday mornings, at weddings, at funerals, in times of blessing and in times of tragedy. I have gotten to share the Gospel over coffee and over board games, on the street and in my office. I am always surprised at when people say they are reluctant to share their faith since they are worried about a negative reaction. When we set out to live and speak good news for others, saying and doing something good to them and for them – without an agenda of trying to force them to become a Christian or come to our church or believe this or that, but simply being there for them, to listen, to give hope, and share ourselves, my experience has been overwhelming positive.

Yes, a lot say no thanks. A lot say they want to but there is no follow through. It does require patience.

I think of our McCourt meals and taking people to the food bank on Tuesdays. This simple an act of service and fellowship has openned doors for me to sit and pray with dozens of people, many of whom as shut ins are too sick to come to church, but are precisely the kind of people that God has a special heart for. Or others are people that face terrible mental illness. Many times I have gotten the privilege to be an ambassador of Christ to be the first person that sees them as a person of value and worth, and when they ask, “why do you do this for people?” I get to tell them why.

Sometimes sharing the Gospel is quite explicit and decisive, other times it is a simple act of kindness or service.

Or it can be planting a community garden to promote community and food healthy food in our community. That lead to Alexander Kuthy to start coming here. Remember Alex? He sadly passed away a little while ago, but he shared his testimony with us. An irreligious man that hated the church growing up because a priest tried to sexually assault him. He lived most of his life completely unconcerned with God until he had an accident and he said, “All of a sudden I was aware that I needed God.” Alex would stroll into my office and chat with me. In five years, I can probably count on my one hand how many appointments I had at my office that were actually booked in advance. That’s just fine, my life is far more interesting for it. Alex lived with a new purpose. You saw that in him. He said he lived all his life for himself, now he was making up time living for God. He believed in devoting his life to “spreading peace” as he said it often.

I hope everyone goes home, reads some scripture, meditates, and prays upon it, and asked themselves, “What is my purpose? Is my purpose living the Gospel, completely without reservation? Is my reason for being alive walking in God’s love, worshiping in God’s love, showing others God’s love?”

If it is and the person next to you agrees, that is the church, brothers and sisters. That is what we are doing here together.

3. The Gospel is Our Unity

“If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Romans 10:9)

It is such a simple phrase. Jesus is lord, and salvation is in trusting that work of the resurrection. Jesus is our unity. We so often make it Jesus plus a hold lot of other stuff, or Jesus can only mean the way I relate to Jesus.

I have spoken before that I was raised with a very fundamentalist faith. My grandfather was a fundamentalist Baptist pastor, and that is what formed me growing up. Fundamentalism is a lot of things. While many come by it sincerely, as I did, at its very worst, it is an arrogance that all my thoughts and interpretations are the right and infallible ones. It is often obsessed with control and certainty and simple pat answers; that affective sense of certainty in essence shields the reality that since most fundamentalists do not believe God loves all people perfectly, there is a deep sense that God might actually not love them either, unless they do and think a certain way. It is also oddly then obsessed with very specific and convoluted doctrines, whether about creation, the Bible, the atonement, how Jesus will return, you name it, and perfectionist behavior, usually obsessed with sexuality above any other sin. Each doctrine or behavior is then turned into a litmus test of who is truly a Christian and who is not, disregarding the historic creeds of our faith and that our communities must embody grace. It also sees everyone who believes differently and acts differently as dumb, delusional, or dangerous.

I know this not because I look down on fundamentalists, but because I used to think that way. I really did not know any other way to be honest.

I have learned the simple biblical truth that, as James McClendon has put it, “Fundamentalism just isn’t fundamental enough.”

When I came to First Baptist, I did see something different. First Baptist, like many other historic First Baptist Churches in North America, has a long history, enduring all the movements over the last century. Some of our members have been in this church for over 50 years. It has learned to endure diversity. Many of the First Baptist Church family when I came had lived together as a community for so many years they just resolved to keep being a family together, no matter what.

Being committed to being historically Baptist we have upheld the liberty of the conscience of members of this church to interpret the Bible for ourselves in community as our denomination on the whole upholds that our churches are autonomous yet partner together for the Gospel.

For the last five years I have marveled at just how diverse First Baptist is, the different faith backgrounds and experiences, the different doctrines and ideas of faith and how they have functioned in people’s lives, and the sincere commitments to keep learning the Bible together.

That is rare. It is difficult to live out, but it is refreshing in this divided world we live in.

It has been oddly refreshing to lead a Bible study hearing all these perspectives come out, and sometimes quite heatedly, but then have a recognition that we are all sincerely trying to follow Jesus together, and he is our unity.

First Baptist is a diverse place, we all don’t think the same, and we have to reckon with all our diverse backgrounds and experiences and ideas, whether on theology, politics, or on what color the carpet should be.

But if Jesus is our unity, we are bound by blood as family.

As we do this within our walls, we have a vital witness outside our walls. The Gospel has been our unity with all the other churches here in Garson and Coniston. I don’t think you realize the high regard we are held in by the other churches. And it has been an honor working with so many excellent pastors and priests.

One of the most powerful moments in my years here was when we gathered for worship with St. John’s, Trinity United, and the Anglican churches.

I remember the second ecumenical service I participated in here, we went to St. John’s. That year the liturgy called for each person to pair off with a person from another church, and come to a font of water, dip your fingers in it and make the sign of the cross over the other person’s head, asking forgiveness for the sins we have done against each other.

I have never seen the Spirit move so powerfully. People broke down crying in repentance and hugged right there.

That moment was not of ourselves. That was the Spirit moving as we, Christians from very diverse traditions, simply came together to worship Jesus.

The Gospel, the simple Gospel, is our unity. Nothing else should be or can be.

4. The Gospel is Our Hope

“But Christ, as the Son, is in charge of God’s entire house. And we are God’s house, if we keep our courage and remain confident in our hope in Christ.” (Heb. 3:6)

When you are able to be there and see our God working. It is the best thing in the world.

While pastoring can be quite difficult, it is propelled along by the conviction that God never gives up hope on people and neither do we.

One more story: Some of you remember Jered. He does not live around here anymore. A troubled young man, who had been in and out of prison, with so much chaos in him you could immediately tell just from hearing him talk.

The chaos and pain with him was so bad, he once told me he resolved to stop believing in anything because his mind was so unreliable he just had had enough. If you can imagine living like that and being at that point?

I remember coming home that day shook-up by his words. “How can the Gospel reach someone that unstable?” I thought. How can our Gospel mean anything if it can’t bring hope to someone like him?

A few days later, I remember seeing him at the residence.  He came up to me: “Spencer, I had a really difficult night. I was in a really dark place…Then he showed up.”

“Who?” I asked. Jered just pointed upwards. “He did. I can’t be an atheist anymore,” he said. God showed up for him in a time of need, far beyond what I or anyone is capable of. In that dark moment God appeared and told him he had worth and that he was loved and that there was hope.

That is the hope of our faith. God does not give up on people. He has not given up on me; he has not given up hope on you; therefore he will not give up hope on anyone. He simply will not give up on this broken world.

Because of this – this good news – we live with purpose, with unity, with joy and hope.

Let us pray…

Benediction:

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

Martyr’s Mirror: Living the Cross: Dirk Willems

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“For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.” – Phil. 1:21

Like good Protestants, but bad students of church history, we are going to have to jump 1500 years into the future, to the dawn of the Reformation. In this room here, I imagine we have Christians from different denominational backgrounds like Lutheran, Presbyterian, Reformed, Mennonite, Pentecostal, even some Catholics as well. And some of you even know what those words mean! Those words tend to mean less today not just because we don’t know our church history, but also I think because we have a deeper recognition that we are all one in Christ Jesus, despite minor doctrinal differences in how we interpret our Bibles. It was not always so…

The first Baptists, called by their enemies, the “Anabaptists,” were radical Protestants that saw all the wars of religion, killing between Protestants and Catholics, and the concluded that faith has to be free and voluntary. They were committed to non-violence and refused to let the government legislate religious belief one way or another. This is what Baptist call the separation of church and state – more accurately it is the separation of faith from power.

Again, most Christians now affirm this in one way, shape, or form, but back then, the Baptists who preached freedom of religion and conscience, something we take for granted now as our un-revocable right as a citizen. However, back then, they were deemed enemies of the common good by the established churches and their governments, both Protestant and Roman Catholic. And so, authorities hunted the Anabaptists. This was a dark moment in European history, Catholics killing Protestants, vice versa, Protestants killing Protestants. Christians who all believed in the same Jesus, executing other Christians. What were they killing over?

Baptists held to believer baptism, Reformers and Catholics to infant baptism. In hind sight that is a terrible thing to fight over, let alone kill. It was petty. Yet, where state-religions were strong, so also was the need to control people to get them to believe, and so the Anabaptists, who dissented from this, were chased. Their punishment: they were often dragged to bridges and lakes and flung into the water to drown as a kind of ironic punishment for being re-baptized.

One man was arrested by the Dutch authorities for his Baptist convictions. His name was Dirk Willems, and he was imprisoned purely for saying he no longer believed what other Christians of his day believed. He never hurt anyone. The accounts say that he managed to escape the prison, slipping out of an unbarred window. It was winter time, and so, in order to evade his pursuer, he ran arose a frozen lake neighboring to the prison.

The guard chasing him, being a bigger man, fell through the ice. Dirk was home free. But then he stopped. What would Jesus do? His conscience pricked him, and he was moved with compassion on his persecutor. At great risk to himself, he dragged the man out of the icy water, warming him with his own body heat. Dirk carried the man back to the prison, accepting that if he retuned, he would be re-arrested. Sure enough, some prison guards did not care about his very obvious compassion and bravery, let alone the injustice of his charges to begin with, and sent him back to his cell.

For being a Baptist heretic and because he refused to let his own enemy die rather than escaping, Willems was burned at the stake 16 May 1569.

Can you imagine his thoughts? Turning to save the man that would imprison him, knowing that it mean confronting prison and the death penalty?

It seems difficult to imagine, but that is what Jesus did for us. While we were still sinners [still his enemy], Christ died for us.

Father, we pray for Christian unity, as Jesus prayed “May they be one as we are one.” Empower us to end our petty squabbles and focus more on you. Remind us that the only way we will show the world your son is by having the same reconciling love Willems modeled for his own pursuer. You teach us to love our neighbors as our selves and may we love even our enemies the way Christ loved us, counting their lives more important that our own.

Amen