Tag: faith

Week 28: Did He Just Say That? (Part 2 of 4)

by Searching For Jesus in America

Before we dive in: I’ve spent more time on today’s post than any other. I listened back through the recording taken from the event on January 26th… several times. I asked friends, who attended the event, to read over it and offer feedback. At the end of the day, I want to be fair and extend grace. But, I’m also reminded that Jesus’ harshest criticisms were to leaders in the church who misrepresented God, burdened others with hypocrisy, and led people astray. My hope is that this post reflects both truth and grace—honest in critique yet rooted in love. I’ve taken great care to ensure accuracy, sought multiple perspectives, and approached this with a heart for clarity rather than controversy. So, before we dive in, know that this isn’t written lightly.

I attended the Calvary Chapel’s Civics + Culture class on January 26th with a friend who is a member of the church, along with two others who don’t attend, but have a shared interest in the conversation around political engagement within the institution of church. This was a two hour event and to cover every aspect of what was said would take me days to unpack. So for the purposes of this post, I want to focus on something that doesn’t necessarily get much attention these days.

But it should.

In recent years, a growing number of American evangelical pastors have used their pulpits as platforms for political influence, blurring the lines between faith and partisan advocacy in ways that challenge long-standing legal and ethical boundaries. With unwavering confidence they present their own interpretations
not as perspectives, but as undeniable truths. Throughout the first hour of this particular class, this church leader stood on the stage not just as a teacher of scripture but as an arbiter of political and cultural reality, weaving his personal convictions seamlessly into his message. Rather than fostering discussion, his words functioned as declarations, leaving little room for nuance or dissent. Ideas that might have invited thoughtful engagement were instead delivered as definitive pronouncements, reinforcing a particular worldview without acknowledging its complexities or the validity of differing perspectives.

I will be covering a few of what I consider the more problematic comments, and positions, expressed by their leadership… as they relate to politics and culture. This isn’t a dissection of theological interpretation, or ideology, which would also be an intriguing topic to explore, but rather a look at how these statements influence public perception, policy discussions, and cultural narratives.

At the end of the day, TWO big issues are always front and center for me when it comes to the conversations around Christian Nationalism: the posture our church leaders are taking when presenting information (and the accuracy of that information), and potential violations of the Johnson Amendment of 1954. Today’s post addresses the former and next week’s post will cover the latter.

I also want to underscore that I took voice memos of all the presentations so I could go back and report on what was said, which is important for both accuracy and integrity.

In the opening remarks, it was underscored that the “marching orders” for the Civics + Culture ministry for the next four years came from a burden that was placed on their hearts four years earlier, specifically in September 2020 when Charlie Kirk came “to basically kick off the ministry.” For those who read the post about my Sunday morning visit to Calvary, you might remember the reference below:

Side note: Hosting Charlie Kirk at a Sunday morning church service, under a talk titled We the Thinking People—framed with imagery of the American flag and U.S. Capitol—signals a troubling fusion of faith and nationalism, replacing theological reflection with political ideology and redefining the church as a platform for partisan influence rather than spiritual community.

During the speaker’s explanation of world events during this time and the subsequent four years, he outlined a series of developments that, in his view, reflected a broader societal and political shift. He described organized efforts to escalate unrest, as well as government overreach, and ideological transformations affecting institutions and culture. The following list, while not exhaustive, highlights some of the things that were said at Calvary’s event on January 26th:

  • Referencing the George Floyd riots, he said that secret NGOs were delivering palettes of bricks all across the US to help instigate destruction.
  • The city of Seattle “fell… conquered by Antifa”.
  • Referencing the “transgender madness”, he said we have lost all understanding of what gender is.
  • The establishment of “race Marxism” throughout all of our institutions, specifically referencing DEI and Intersectionality.
  • “We had to face a stolen election, in my opinion.”
  • “We had to endure the invasion of our southern boarder.”
  • “Trump supporters were put on terrorist watch lists at enemy of the state.”
  • He inaccurately stated that within the first week of taking office for the second time, 118 Executive Orders were signed by Trump. (The actual number is 36.)

I’ll admit, after hearing a few of these statements, I turned to my friends and whispered, “Did he really just say that?” Some of the commentary was unsurprising, but some caught me off guard—statements that were outright false, conspiracy theories long debunked, and propaganda disguised as truth. Some were merely opinions, yet they were presented with the certainty of undeniable fact. I spent HOURS researching all of these comments and the rabbit roles were seemingly endless and disconcerting. In an environment where statements, no matter how unfounded, are delivered with unwavering confidence, they become self-reinforcing, shaping perceptions without scrutiny.

When propaganda is wrapped in the language of truth and authority, it ceases to be just misinformation; it becomes a tool of influence, steering entire communities toward a singular narrative while discouraging critical thinking. The result is an echo chamber where ideology replaces inquiry, and the need for certainty overrides the pursuit of truth.

Some, if not all, of these statements touch on topics that are deeply personal to many of us, shaped by our experiences, values, and the information we consume from sources we trust. (Whether that trust is warranted is a completely different conversation.) But no matter what “position” you hold on any of these issues, I keep coming back to this: Jesus teaches us to be curious about what people believe. He didn’t avoid hard conversations—He asked questions, told stories, and met people where they were, even when their perspectives were flawed or uncomfortable.

Jesus did it with grace… and without arrogance, contempt, or condemnation.

And while it’s natural for people of faith to engage with societal and cultural issues, doing so in a manner that aligns with Jesus’ teachings requires a posture of humility, love, and a commitment to gospel-centered transformation rather than political or ideological conquest. Bridging these two perspectives—concern for the world and the call to Christlike living—should be the goal for those seeking to follow Jesus faithfully in turbulent times.

If evangelical communities are to engage in meaningful cultural and political discourse, it is essential that they move beyond abstract debates and genuinely listen to the lived experiences of those whose realities they so often condemn. Without this willingness to sit face-to-face with the people behind the policies they oppose, their convictions risk being shaped by assumptions rather than understanding, leading not to truth and compassion, but to misrepresentation and harm.

Since attending the January 26th class, I’ve asked three members of Calvary to share their thoughts on issues related to gender identity, and they openly did. After listening to their perspectives, I then asked a follow-up question: Had they ever sat down and had a real conversation with someone who is transgender?

All three of them said no.

And that, right there, is a huge part of the problem.

It’s easy to form strong opinions from a distance—to debate concepts, make assumptions, or even pass judgment without ever engaging with the actual people those discussions affect. This is what the Pharisees did, and it’s antithetical to the way Jesus lived his life… and calls us to live ours. Real understanding doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens in conversation. It happens when we listen to lived experiences, when we move beyond rhetoric and into relationship. And perhaps the most crucial part is this: those three people were wrong about so much — Not because they were intentionally cruel or malicious, but because their understanding was shaped by secondhand narratives, assumptions, and a lack of direct experience. They spoke with certainty about things they had never personally encountered, drawing conclusions from sermons, news segments, and cultural talking points rather than from real conversations with real people.

This is where the disconnect happens. When we talk about people without talking to them, we risk getting it wrong—misrepresenting their experiences, oversimplifying complex realities, and ultimately reinforcing harmful misunderstandings. These three individuals may have believed they were standing on truth, but their certainty crumbled under the weight of their own admitted lack of interaction.

The question we have to ask ourselves is this: Are we truly seeking truth, or just reaffirming what we think we already know? Because if we’re not willing to engage, to listen, and to challenge our own perspectives, then we aren’t actually pursuing truth at all—we’re just clinging to comfort.

Okay… there’s no easy way to transition here, but I want to set up next week’s post and potential violations of the Johnson Amendment of 1954. Both presenters had a clear animosity towards the Biden administration, as well as local political changes, like “losing Red Bank” to Democrats, and their frustration was evident. The first presenter even went so far as to say that he believes you can be a Christian and “fit inside the Republican Party” but cannot be a Democrat and a Christian. He went on to say that if you know everything about today’s Democratic Party you cannot be for that and for Christ.

During one of his segments, he also talked about how families have been torn apart because of this and attributing it to a level of Satanic activity in our nation that we haven’t seen in our lifetime. His claim that Satanic activity is at an all-time high in the nation, while reflecting his deep concerns about moral and cultural shifts, risks leading believers toward a response driven by fear and division rather than faith and trust in God’s sovereignty. If the battle is already won in Christ, as the Bible teaches (John 16:33), then the role of Christians is not to fight a war against society but to live as faithful witnesses to God’s love and truth.

He also invoked war/battle terminology and symbolism stating that “We’ve won some elections, we’ve won some battles, but we haven’t won the war.” This perspective, while resonant in certain political and cultural contexts, does not align with the teachings of Jesus. Christ’s message was not one of earthly conquest, but of peace, reconciliation, and the transformation of hearts. When Jesus spoke of battles and struggles, they were spiritual in nature, centered on overcoming sin, extending love, and embodying the values of God’s kingdom.

Honestly, I feel like most of these leaders are more focused on the Jesus who returns with a sword than the Jesus who walked among us 2,000 years ago.

They seem drawn to the imagery of power, judgment, and triumphant victory—Jesus as the warrior King, coming to set things right with divine force. They preach about righteousness in terms of battle lines, about standing firm against the enemy, about a Christ who will one day return to conquer and rule. And while those themes exist in scripture, they fixate on them at the expense of something just as crucial: the Jesus who already came.

The Jesus who sat with sinners. Who touched the untouchable. Who wept with the grieving. Who challenged the religious elite not with force, but with truth spoken in love. The Jesus who laid down power instead of seizing it, who chose a cross instead of a throne.

When leaders focus more on the Jesus of Revelation than the Jesus of the Gospels, they risk missing the heart of his message. They start seeing people as opponents to defeat rather than neighbors to love. They speak of culture wars instead of kingdom invitations. They wield scripture like a weapon rather than a source of life.

But Jesus didn’t call us to win a war—he called us to love our enemies, to serve, to seek justice with humility. If we lose sight of that Jesus, we aren’t following him at all. We’re just waiting for a version of him that fits our desire for control.

For instance, in John 18:36, Jesus tells Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.” This statement highlights that Christ’s mission was not about political or cultural dominance but about spiritual redemption. His followers were not called to engage in ideological warfare but to spread love, grace, and truth.

Additionally, in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:9), Jesus blesses the peacemakers, not those who seek victory over perceived enemies. His teachings emphasize loving one’s enemies (Matthew 5:44), turning the other cheek (Matthew 5:39), and seeking reconciliation over division. Framing cultural shifts as a war to be won can contribute to a mindset of hostility rather than healing, contradicting the call to be ambassadors of Christ’s reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:18-20).

Moreover, the New Testament consistently presents the idea that the true battle is not against people or institutions, but against spiritual forces (Ephesians 6:12). Paul instructs believers to put on the full armor of God, which consists of truth, righteousness, faith, and peace—not rhetoric of conquest or political struggle.

I can go on with examples, but I think you probably get the point. The next post will talk more about Christian Nationalism, but I think it’s important to underscore the importance of humility in our conversations. If we truly seek truth and unity, we must be mindful not to let partisan politics take root in our churches. I’d go so far as to say that if we’re talking about Republicans and Democrats at all, we’re missing the point.

We’re missing Jesus.

Week 27: In Our Front Yard (Part 1 of 4)

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Me and a Few Friends

Church: Calvary Chapel Chattanooga

Topic: Christian Nationalism

Back in November, I visited Calvary Chapel Chattanooga. That experience turned into my longest post to date—for now. (My next one might take the title.) But more than just its length, that post sparked the most DMs I’ve ever received. Calvary Chapel has a reputation in our community. Depending on who you ask, that reputation varies—sometimes dramatically and the responses to my post made that even more clear.

People had thoughts.

Some messaged to share their own experiences—some affirming, some challenging. One person just wanted to say, “Thank you for putting words to something I’ve felt but never voiced.” And that response confirmed that this conversation—about faith, church culture, and the rise of Christian Nationalism in our front yard—is one people are ready to have.

So, a few weeks ago, someone showed me a screen shot of a public Facebook post about an upcoming event at Calvary Chapel. Apparently, the church gathers once a month for lectures, discussions, and biblical teachings through their Civics + Culture series. These classes address topics such as policy, legislation, law, and social issues, providing participants with resources to prepare them for important conversations, advocacy, and activism.

Full disclosure, I wouldn’t typically consider attending an event like this, but I was curious to understand how a church like Calvary Chapel approaches civics and cultural engagement. Given its reputation in the community, hearing firsthand how they discuss policy, legislation, and social issues through a biblical lens, as well as how they view current events and the role they believe the church should play in shaping culture, I thought it could be helpful when trying to engage in dialogue with those who agree with their stances.

It also needs to be said that the Facebook post had some rather disconcerting language. Some red flags, if you will:

“In 537 BC, a massive political shift took place that set the stage for one of the most important revivals in Israel’s history. When the political environment went from extreme hostility towards the Jews, to one of favor almost overnight – they knew it was time to act; but, it would require much work and sacrifice to achieve their revival.

“In a few days (please note: this was posted right before the inauguration), we will experience another massive political shift. The Church in the United States will no longer co-exist with a government hostile towards her; but, a government that stay(s) out of her way. Are we ready to make the sacrifice to do the work that God is calling His Church to do?”

There are several problematic aspects of this statement, particularly in how it frames historical and contemporary political events:

  1. Misapplication of Historical Context – The reference to 537 BC likely points to the Persian King Cyrus allowing the Jewish exiles to return to Jerusalem, ending their Babylonian captivity. However, equating this event with a modern U.S. political transition is historically and theologically questionable, at the very least. Ancient Israel was a theocratic nation, whereas the United States is a secular democracy with religious freedom for all. The comparison implies a level of divine endorsement for a political shift that is not theologically, or historically, sound. (Make a mental note about King Cyrus, because this will be mentioned in Part 2 and how leadership at Calvary Chapel equate Cyrus to Trump. Additionally, there is a growing contingent who want to see the United States become a theocracy.)
  2. Assumption of Political Favoritism by God – The quote suggests that one government is “hostile” toward the Church while another will allow it to thrive. This assumes that political favor equates to God’s favor, which is a problematic perspective. Christianity has historically thrived under persecution and hardship, and Jesus Himself warned that His followers would face opposition (John 15:18-20). The idea that a government that “stays out of the way” is inherently better for the Church oversimplifies complex religious and political dynamics.
  3. Exclusionary and Partisan Framing – The quote implies that only one political party, or government, can truly support Christianity, alienating believers who may have different political views. It also ignores the religious pluralism of the U.S. and the fact that many people of faith exist across the political spectrum. (The Calvary Chapel staff member leading this class made it VERY clear that he believes it impossible for Democrats to be Christians. This will also be discussed in Part 2.)
  4. Over-Simplification of Religious and Political Reality – The statement assumes that the previous administration was actively hostile toward Christianity and that the new administration will be entirely hands-off. In reality, religious freedom is protected by law, and policies affecting religion are complex and nuanced. The suggestion that Christians can now suddenly act because of a political shift disregards the ongoing work of churches and believers who have been active in their faith regardless of political leadership.
  5. The Danger of Christian Nationalism – The language suggests that the Church’s success is tied to political power, which aligns with Christian nationalistic thinking. Throughout history, whenever Christianity has been deeply intertwined with political power, it has often led to corruption, exclusion, and the oppression of others rather than the gospel’s message of love, justice, and humility.

That was a lot to digest, but I think it’s important—now more than ever—to take a step back and really examine what’s being said in our churches and by those who profess a faith in Jesus, particularly when it comes to the intersection of faith and politics.

Christian nationalism is not just about patriotism, or civic engagement; it’s a distortion of the gospel that fuses national identity with religious belief, often at the expense of the very teachings of Jesus. When church leaders and Christian influencers frame political power as proof of divine favor, or suggest that the church’s mission is tied to the success of a particular government or ideology, we have to ask:

  • Is this truly what Jesus taught?
  • Are we being led by the gospel, or by fear, power, and political ambition?
  • Are we shaping our faith around Jesus’ call to love, serve, and uplift others, or are we reshaping Jesus to fit a political agenda?

The danger of Christian nationalism is that it often weaponizes faith—turning it into a tool for exclusion, control, and, at times, outright oppression. It can lead to marginalizing those who don’t fit a particular political or cultural mold, rewriting history to serve ideology, and prioritizing power over the radical love and humility that Jesus modeled.

As followers of Christ, we have a responsibility to be discerning. That means not blindly accepting everything spoken from a pulpit, or platform, simply because it carries Christian language. It means examining the fruits of these teachings—are they producing justice, mercy, and humility, or are they fostering division, fear, and a thirst for control?

Jesus never sought political dominance. He never called His followers to secure power at all costs. Instead, He told them to love their enemies, serve the least among them, and seek a kingdom that is not of this world. 

If our churches are preaching something else, we need to ask: Whose kingdom are we really building?

SIDE NOTE: This is the first post in what I anticipate will be a four-part series. The next two posts will offer an in-depth look at two separate Civics + Culture events at Calvary Chapel Chattanooga that I personally attended. The fourth post will take a deeper dive into the Christian Nationalist movement—why it stands in direct opposition to the life and teachings of Christ, how it distorts the mission of his followers, and the ways we can challenge and counter a harmful theology that prioritizes political power over the gospel’s call to love, humility, and justice.

Week 26: What I’ve Learned Over the Last Six Months

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Liz and Kody

Church: City Collective

Lunch: Kenny’s

Topic: What is Church and will I attend a Sunday morning service after this project

Well, I made it to the halfway mark and I’m not sure where to start. Before I began this project, I made a commitment to myself to visit my “home church” every three months to stay connected and, honestly, I miss my people. So, today I went back to City Collective and then grabbed lunch with these two humans. To say I adore them would be an understatement. I genuinely consider them to be family. Liz was there with me during the very first week of this journey, and now, as she sits beside me at the halfway mark, it only feels right that she’s there for the final week, too.

Something people might not know about our family, we don’t have a very large inner-circle. We don’t trust a lot of people, for understandable reasons. But when we do, we hold onto them tightly. The people in our inner circle aren’t just friends—they’re the ones who have walked with us through the highs and lows, who have seen the messy, unfiltered parts of our lives and stayed anyway. Because, here’s the reality: What you see is genuinely what you get with our family. We don’t put on a show, we don’t sugarcoat things, we don’t pander to the “elite”, and we don’t pretend to be something we’re not. We love deeply, we protect fiercely, and we constantly remind ourselves that authenticity matters more than approval. (And, we screw up A LOT.) We’re not here to impress the right people or fit into a mold—we’re here to live with purpose and to stand by our values.

So, as I sit at my local coffee shop reflecting on the past six months, the only thing I can think about is something I told Kody during lunch: After this year-long project is done, I’m not sure if I’ll regularly attend a Sunday morning service ever again. I know that seems like a radical, maybe even heretical, statement, but it really isn’t. Over the past six months, I’ve met some of the most extraordinary people—fellow sojourners navigating the complexities of faith. A recurring theme in our conversations has been the growing tension with how the contemporary church has embraced a business model, often prioritizing growth metrics, branding, and polished performances over genuine community, discipleship, and the raw, messy beauty of authentic faith. And one of the questions everyone seems to be asking:

If not this, then what?

I won’t even begin to unpack all of that here, but I will say this—and I can only speak for myself. For far too long, I blindly accepted what was handed to me, never questioning the traditions, the systems, or the way faith was packaged and presented. But when I finally did start asking questions—when I started holding the modern, entertainment-driven model of church up against what I saw in the book of Acts—I was met with dismissal. I was told that the kind of church described in Acts was “all but dead,” an idealistic relic of the past rather than a blueprint for today. And that response only deepened my questions: Why had we strayed so far from it? And why was there so much resistance to returning?

The next few paragraphs provide a brief yet concise overview of how the early church was formed. While not an exhaustive account, they highlight some of the key moments and foundational aspects that shaped its development:

Before 400 AD, the early church looked very different from both the formalized structure that developed later and the modern Sunday morning experience. The church was more decentralized, relational, and often underground due to persecution. Christians primarily met in homes (Romans 16:5, Acts 2:46) rather than in designated church buildings. These were small, intimate gatherings where believers shared meals, prayed, worshiped, and discussed scripture. There were no official clergy as we think of them today. Leadership was based on spiritual gifting (Ephesians 4:11–13) and often included elders (presbyters), deacons, and itinerant apostles or prophets.

As Christianity grew, certain trends began to shape a more formalized church structure. Apostles and prophets gave way to bishops (overseers) who provided stability as false teachings arose (e.g., Gnosticism). By 200 AD, bishops were central leaders in most major cities. As Christianity spread, letters and gospel accounts were shared widely. To maintain doctrinal unity, church leaders began distinguishing inspired writings from others, leading to the development of the New Testament canon. Worship began to include more structured prayers, creeds, and sacraments (like baptism and communion) to unify believers across different regions.

Everything changed when Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity in 313 AD (Edict of Milan). Within a century, Christianity went from an outlawed faith to the dominant religion of the Roman Empire. Instead of meeting in homes, Christians began worshiping in basilicas (Roman public buildings repurposed as churches). Bishops gained more authority, eventually leading to the rise of the papacy in Rome. The church became intertwined with the state. By 380 AD, Emperor Theodosius made Christianity the official state religion (Edict of Thessalonica), enforcing doctrinal unity. To settle theological disputes, church leaders convened councils (e.g., Nicaea in 325 AD, Constantinople in 381 AD), establishing foundational Christian doctrines like the Trinity.

At the end of the day, I think the formalized structure was created for three reasons: to combat heresy, to maintain order, and to gain legitimacy. (This does not take into account any nefarious agendas.) But, when the church transitioned from a decentralized, organic movement to an institutionalized structure, several key aspects of early Christianity were diminished or lost:

  1. Intimate, Relational Community → Replaced by Large, Institutional Gatherings
    • The early church thrived in small, house-based gatherings where believers shared life together, breaking bread, confessing struggles, and supporting one another.
    • As church buildings and formalized services took over, faith became more about attendance rather than participation, leading to a loss of deep, personal relationships.
  2. Spirit-Led, Participatory Worship → Replaced by Spectator-Based Services
    • In the first-century church, everyone could bring something to the gathering—songs, teachings, prophecies (1 Corinthians 14:26).
    • Over time, worship became structured, performance-driven, and clergy-led, making most people passive observers rather than active participants.
  3. Radical Generosity & Shared Resources → Replaced by Institutional Funding Models
    • The early church lived out radical generosity, sharing all things in common (Acts 2:44-45).
    • When Christianity became the state religion, financial giving was redirected toward maintaining church buildings, clergy salaries, and institutional programs, rather than directly supporting those in need.
  4. Mission & Discipleship → Replaced by Doctrine & Authority Structures
    • Originally, Christianity spread through discipleship and personal witness, with ordinary believers carrying the gospel wherever they went.
    • As the church formalized, hierarchical leadership and doctrinal enforcement became the focus, shifting the emphasis from making disciples to maintaining theological orthodoxy.
  5. Countercultural Kingdom Mindset → Replaced by Political & Cultural Alignment
    • Early Christians were outsiders, often persecuted because their faith clashed with the Roman Empire’s values.
    • When Christianity became a state-sponsored religion (4th century), it gained power and influence—but at the cost of its radical, countercultural nature. The church started aligning with political structures rather than challenging them.

Again, this isn’t an exhaustive list, and it’s definitely an oversimplification of some deeply complex historical shifts. However, it highlights key ways in which the early church evolved—and, in some cases, drifted from its original intent. The goal isn’t to romanticize the past but to recognize where we may have lost something valuable and consider how we can reclaim the heart of authentic, transformative faith today.

So, as I begin the second half of this journey, here are a few of the things I’ll be pondering:

How Can We Recover What Was Lost?

  1. Rebuild Authentic Community
    • Shift focus from large services to smaller, more intimate gatherings where real relationships can form.
    • Emphasize discipleship over attendance, encouraging deep, personal investment in each other’s lives.
  2. Redirect Resources to People, Not Programs
    • Focus on meeting tangible needs rather than maintaining expensive buildings or extravagant productions.
    • Challenge the consumer mindset by fostering generosity and mutual support.
  3. Return to Grassroots Discipleship & Mission
    • Equip believers to live out their faith daily instead of depending on professional clergy for spiritual growth.
    • Shift from church as a place to go to church as a way of life, where discipleship happens everywhere, not just on Sundays.
  4. Reclaim the Church’s Prophetic Voice
    • Refuse to let political and cultural power dictate the church’s message.
    • Return to a radical, kingdom-centered faith that prioritizes justice, mercy, and truth over institutional preservation.

You know… easy stuff!

CHALLENGE: Spend some time thinking—and talking with others—about what you believe the church is meant to be. Is it a building? A gathering? A movement? A family? How does your understanding of church align with what you see in Scripture, especially in the book of Acts?

Then, take it a step further: If you could strip away tradition, expectations, and modern structures, what would the church look like in its purest form? And what small steps can you take to live that out in your own community?

Week 24: Something to Hope for?

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Rachel

Church: Rise Church Chattanooga

Lunch: Starbucks

Topic: The difference between unity and uniformity.

One of the things I love most about Chattanooga is how deeply interconnected this community is. It often feels like there’s just one degree of separation between everyone—whether through mutual friends, shared projects, or local organizations. This tight-knit nature creates a sense of collaboration and belonging that makes it easier to build relationships, rally support for important causes, and foster meaningful change.

Of course, this interconnectedness has its pros and cons. On the positive side, it allows for stronger partnerships, faster word-of-mouth advocacy, and a greater sense of shared responsibility for the well-being of the city. But it also means that everyone seemingly knows everyone, and maintaining authenticity, humility, and grace in our relationships is crucial. In a community where faith is lived out alongside one another, trust is built—or damaged—by how we reflect Christ in our words and actions.

I met Rachel last month at a networking event at Chattanooga Girls Leadership Academy, and from the moment we started talking, it was clear—she’s one of those rare people who truly embraces life in a way that’s contagious. There’s an undeniable energy and warmth about her, the kind that makes you feel like anything is possible. Whether through her work, her conversations, or the way she carries herself, she exudes a sense of purpose and joy. And, honestly, I have absolutely no idea how the topic of church same up, but it did.

So, I invited myself to join her one Sunday and she enthusiastically agreed.

Rachel attends Rise Church in Red Bank, a newer church plant known for its commitment to service and outreach. With Sunday services taking place at Red Bank Middle School, Rise Church places a strong emphasis on community engagement, often partnering with local organizations to serve and support those in need. I also want to take this moment to say that churches meeting in community spaces are near and dear to my heart because they reflect the very essence of what the church was always meant to be—not confined within four walls, but embedded in the heart of the community. There’s something deeply meaningful about worshiping in a school cafeteria, an event hall, a coffee shop, or even a park—places that, throughout the week, are filled with the rhythms of everyday life. These churches create a tangible reminder that faith isn’t about a building; it’s about people, connection, and presence.

During our conversation after the service, Rachel and I spent a lot of time talking about the current political climate and its growing impact on the church. We talked about how politics has increasingly woven itself into the fabric of church culture, influencing not only the way people engage with their faith but also how they perceive and interact with one another. For instance, when I see someone wearing a red Make America Great Again hat when I visit a church, which has happened several times over the past five months, it immediately sparks a mix of thoughts. It’s not just a hat—it’s a symbol that carries layers of meaning, depending on who you ask. I find myself wondering: What does this person believe the church should stand for? Do they see faith and politics as intertwined? How do they view those who might not share their perspective?

It’s not about making assumptions, but rather acknowledging that political identity has become deeply embedded in church spaces, sometimes shaping theology just as much as scripture does. I wrestle with how to engage in conversations that are honest yet full of grace, seeking to understand rather than assume. Because at the end of the day, the church isn’t supposed to be a place where political allegiance overshadows the gospel, but a place where all people—regardless of background, party, or belief—can come together in pursuit of Christ.

Moments like this remind me why it’s so important to pay attention to what’s being said in our churches and by those who claim to follow Jesus. Are we shaping our faith to fit our politics, or allowing our faith to shape how we engage with the world? Are we making room for the hard conversations, or letting division quietly settle in? These are questions I don’t have all the answers to, but I do know that if the church is to remain a place of truth, love, and transformation, we have to be willing to ask them.

There’s no denying that the polarization we see in the world has made its way into many church communities, shaping everything from sermons to relationships to outreach efforts. Some congregations have leaned further into political identity, while others have struggled to navigate the tension between faith and partisanship. Rachel and I wrestled with questions like: How do we stay rooted in Christ when so many voices are trying to define what Christianity should look like? How do we foster spaces where people feel safe to wrestle with hard questions rather than pressured to conform to a political ideology?

It was refreshing to talk with someone who, like me, values both faith and critical thinking, who isn’t afraid to grapple with the complexities of what it means to follow Jesus in this moment. Conversations like this remind me that even in uncertain times, there are people who are committed to seeking truth, loving well, and keeping Christ at the center of it all. It was refreshing and encouraging to attend another church service where faith took center stage, rather than political ideology. In a time when so many churches seem to intertwine their theology with partisan beliefs, it’s a relief to walk into a space where worship, scripture, and community are the defining aspects of the church’s identity—not political affiliations or culture wars.

There’s something deeply meaningful about gathering with believers who are focused on Christ above all else, creating a space where people from different backgrounds and perspectives can come together in pursuit of something greater than political alignment. It reminded me that the church’s mission has never been about championing a particular party or ideology, but about embodying the love, justice, and truth of Jesus—a mission that transcends any political moment.

Rachel acknowledged that members of Rise hold differing political beliefs, but that the church has made a conscious effort to prioritize what unites them, rather than what divides them. The focus is on living out the teachings of Jesus, loving others with grace, and building community around a shared faith. This approach, she explained, allows people from all walks of life to feel like they have a place at the table, regardless of their political affiliations. 

In our current political climate, it can feel nearly impossible to avoid the pull of partisan politics, especially when so many churches have been swept into these divisions. But Rachel’s insight reminded me of the beauty of a community that chooses to focus on loving others regardless of where people stand on political issues. It’s this kind of church that offers hope—that regardless of the external turbulence of the world, we can still find unity, peace, and purpose in our shared faith.

Week 23: An Unexpected Invitation

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Robert

Church: The Gathering

Lunch: Panera

Topic: There are no coincidences.

It was only a matter of time before a stranger invited me to church… 23 weeks, to be exact.

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting at Velo, meeting with a videographer, when a man took the seat at the table beside us, waiting for someone to join him. Our conversation carried on for about ten minutes, weaving through ideas and stories, when I noticed my dear friend, Matt Macaulay, approaching our table. Or so I thought.

As it turns out, Matt wasn’t coming to see me—he was there to meet the man sitting just beside us. Introductions were exchanged in that effortless, serendipitous way that only happens in coffee shops, and that’s when Robert, Matt’s meeting companion, smiled and admitted something.

“I apologize, but I was listening in on your conversation.”

I had to laugh. It wasn’t the first time a stranger has tuned in, and it definitely won’t be the last. But, I love when people hear aspects of our story, or our work, and are moved to engage in conversation, or even get involved. And, in this case, Robert extended an invitation to attend church with him at The Gathering, in Ringgold, where he leads worship.

His pastor, an alumnus from the same seminary I attended, was teaching on Romans 7, which is always a treat for me. (Almost 10 years ago, I took a group of college-aged women through the Book of Romans…. every week for almost two years.) It’s one of my favorite books of the Bible, second only to James. And as I sit here in the coffee shop going through my notes, my bullet points, I’m struck by a few of them given where we find ourselves as a country… and a church.

  • When you try to please all, you please none
  • Be true to the truth; You will offend some
  • We want things to be simple, to be black and white, but they aren’t
  • One of the most complicated things on this earth is a Christian

I find myself nodding in agreement with each of these statements, yet I also recognize how, without the right context, they could be misused or misunderstood. Truth without clarity can be wielded as a weapon just as easily as it can be a foundation. And in a time when our world craves certainty, it’s tempting to distill complex realities into easy answers—when, in reality, faith often calls us to sit in the tension.

On my second page of notes, I have underscored and placed multiple asterisks by the following notation:

“When society is friendly, keeps the peace, things are “normal” – this is the grace of God. But when God pulls His hand from society… it goes nuts.”

I want to leave this quote as a marker for my next post because the pastor at The Gathering approached this topic in a way that stood in stark contrast to the church I visited later that evening. One thing I’ve become increasingly attuned to is how pastors weave politics into their sermons—sometimes subtly, sometimes unmistakably—making it clear not only where they stand but also where they expect their congregants to stand.

That was NOT the case at The Gathering. In fact, I had absolutely no idea where this pastor stood politically—and that, in itself, felt refreshingly rare. What I did notice, however, was the almost painstaking intentionality in his message. Rather than using the pulpit to push an agenda, he leaned into the tension of what it truly means to follow Jesus in today’s culture—a journey that is anything but simple, neat, or easily categorized. His focus wasn’t on drawing political lines but on illuminating the complexity, the cost, and the countercultural nature of discipleship.

During lunch, Robert and I talked about ALL THE THINGS! Honestly, I love conversations like the one we had that morning. I appreciate a “crazy Jesus story” and Robert definitely has one of those. But, it’s also encouraging to be reminded of the ways God moves in unexpected places and through unexpected people. Hearing Robert’s story—his struggles, his doubts, and the moments where everything seemed to fall apart, only for grace to show up—was both humbling and inspiring. It’s easy to forget that faith isn’t always neat and predictable; sometimes, it’s wild, messy, and full of surprises.

Conversations like this remind me that we’re not alone in our questions, our searching, or even in the moments when we feel like we’re getting it all wrong. God meets us there. And sometimes, He does it in ways that make for the best “crazy Jesus stories” we’ll tell for years to come.

A few days later, I was having a conversation with a friend when she asked how I was capable of staying optimistic in the face of so much adversity. I had to laugh. She was talking about the kind of optimism that doesn’t always come naturally—the kind that feels less like blind hope and more like a choice you have to make every single day. She was talking about the way we keep pushing forward, even when the weight of the world feels unbearable.

I had to laugh because the truth is, I don’t always feel optimistic. There are moments when the problems seem too big, when the setbacks feel personal (and sometimes they are), and when the work feels endless. But what keeps me going isn’t the absence of struggle—it’s the belief that change is still possible. It’s the people I’ve met who refuse to give up. It’s the students who dream big despite their circumstances, the community members who show up for each other, and the small victories that remind me why we started in the first place.

Optimism, for me, isn’t about ignoring the hard things—it’s about choosing to fight for the good despite the hard things. And meeting people like Robert is a reminder that hope isn’t just an abstract idea—it’s something we build together, one conversation, one act of kindness, one moment of understanding at a time. Robert’s story, his resilience, and his willingness to keep going despite the obstacles remind me that change happens in small, steady steps. It’s in the way people show up for each other, in the communities that refuse to be defined by their struggles, and in the belief that even the smallest efforts can ripple outward in ways we may never fully see.

CHALLENGE: This week, the challenge is simple: REST. Take care of yourselves, my friends. Check in on your people.








Week 22: Finding Hope and Like-minded Christians.

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Gerry and Deonta

Church: Silverdale Baptist Church

Lunch: Cracker Barrel

Topic: Finding Hope in Uncertain Times and Planning for the Future

It was bound to happen eventually—my professional work would collide with this deeply personal project. And honestly, maybe it’s time I stop trying to draw a line between the two. Be The Change Youth Initiative is more than just a nonprofit; it’s an extension of our family and the values we live by every day. The truth is, even if the organization didn’t officially exist, we’d still be out there doing this work—advocating for change, uplifting communities, and empowering young people. It’s not just what we do; it’s who we are.

This week, we attended Silverdale Baptist Church with our friend Gerry and his family. Our connection with Gerry began last year during a two-day United Way workshop in Chattanooga—a gathering that started as a professional workshop, but quickly revealed itself to be a moment of divine alignment, where paths crossed for reasons beyond what any agenda could outline. Gerry’s warmth and authenticity stood out immediately, and over time, our conversations have evolved into a meaningful friendship. Attending church with him this week was a beautiful reminder of how the connections we make in unexpected places often end up shaping our journey in profound ways. It’s those unplanned, serendipitous moments that remind us there’s always something bigger at play, weaving people and experiences into the fabric of our lives.

But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. Before diving into everything else, I’d like to take a moment to talk about the church service itself, as it’s worth reflecting on. Let me preface this by saying I’m not entirely comfortable with the notion of attending a church once and then talking about the sermon. That has never been my intent. However, if there’s something that stands out—whether it’s deeply problematic or profoundly impactful—I believe it’s important to acknowledge it. If there’s an issue, it warrants thoughtful critique. Likewise, if something inspires me or leaves a meaningful impression, I think it deserves to be celebrated and shared.

One of the aspects I deeply appreciated about their pastor was his willingness to embrace science as a tool to affirm the existence of the Lord. Rather than viewing science and faith as opposing forces, he used scientific principles to highlight the intricate design of creation. He even went so far as to present a pie chart to the congregation, detailing the composition of our atmosphere. The chart showcased the precise and finely tuned percentages of elements like oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide—elements that are essential for life to exist. It was a compelling moment that underscored how such delicate balances could point to intentionality and design rather than mere chance. 

During our brunch, we had a meaningful conversation about the level of intentionality the staff demonstrates in their teaching approach. The use of real-world examples serves multiple purposes: it makes learning more engaging and relatable, it fosters critical thinking by showing students how academic subjects intersect with everyday life, and it equips them with the tools to apply their knowledge in meaningful ways. This approach reflects a commitment to holistic education—one that goes beyond the classroom and prepares students to become thoughtful and informed members of society.

Eventually, our conversation shifted to reflect on life and where we currently find ourselves in the United States, particularly in the context of the work we do with Be The Change Youth Initiative (BTCYI). As we discussed the state of the nation, themes like inequality and the growing need for intentional community building came up. We talked about how these issues are intertwined with our mission (and our faith) and why the work we’re doing is so critical right now.

In particular, we focused on the urgency of addressing food insecurity, not just as a logistical challenge but as a deeply human issue that reflects broader societal inequities. In the United States—one of the wealthiest nations in the world—it’s heartbreaking that so many children and families still struggle to access basic needs like food. We also reflected on how divided and polarized things can feel in the country right now and how that division impacts community-based work. BTCYI takes an intentional approach to bridge these gaps by focusing on collaboration—bringing together students, creatives, and local organizations to build a unified effort around many important issues, like food insecurity. The work is deeply personal, driven by the belief that creating small, impactful changes at the community level can ripple outwards to inspire larger transformations.

Ultimately, this part of the conversation reinforced a shared understanding: our mission with BTCYI (and as followers of Jesus) is not just about addressing immediate needs, but also about fostering hope, unity, and a sense of purpose in a time when so many people feel disconnected. By equipping young people to step up as leaders and inviting entire communities into this work, we’re creating a model for how change can happen—even amidst challenges—and how we can all bring something valuable to the table.

CHALLENGE: If you’re disconnected, or discouraged, in the current political climate, think about your community and how you can connect with people to create meaningful change together. Whether it’s volunteering at a local organization, starting a conversation about an issue you’re passionate about, or collaborating on a project that uplifts others, small actions can lead to big impacts. By working alongside others who share your values, you can build a sense of belonging, find renewed hope, and make a tangible difference in your community. Remember, change starts with connection—so take that first step today.






Week 21: Why Are Youth Leaving the Church?

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Piper

Church: First Centenary UMA

Lunch: Home

Topic: Youth Ministry and Why Our Kids Are Leaving the Church

We woke up Friday morning, and for the briefest of seconds, it felt like we had been magically transported back to Maine. A thick blanket of snow covered everything in sight. It was stunning—postcard-worthy, really. But unlike the Northeast, with ample amounts of salt and a fleet of snowplows primed and ready to go, our Southern corner of the world collectively hit the panic button. Schools closed, stores emptied of bread and milk like we were prepping for the apocalypse, and somewhere, a single snowplow coughed to life.

The snowstorm didn’t just bring the city to a standstill—it also led many local congregations to cancel their in-person Sunday services. Most churches quickly pivoted to online gatherings, embracing the beauty of technology (and maybe the comfort of preaching in slippers). So, I decided to tune in to the virtual worship service at First Centenary UMC and feeling a bit optimistic—or perhaps overly ambitious—I asked Piper if she’d like to join me. And the odds were most definitely not in my favor.

When I talk about my family and where each of us stands on this winding journey of faith, Piper is firmly planted in the skeptic camp. And honestly, I can’t blame her. Our kids—especially our three oldest—have witnessed some pretty tough, even unsettling, things over the years. And to be fair, most people probably would have shielded their children from the things we experienced for fear that it would ruin their faith. But, I hold to the hope that Jesus is bigger than all of that… and, in the end, their faith will be stronger because of it. And maybe that decision will show itself to be a disastrous one. But, I’m still betting on Jesus.

And the belief that knowing how to identify wolves in sheep’s clothing will also help them see those who are truly following Jesus. (And, YES, this is where Sydney and Brayden got the name of their band.)

Sydney and Brayden, for all they experienced, still caught glimpses of the good that can come from our faith tradition: genuine community, moments of grace, and the kind of hope that feels like solid ground. But Piper? Piper primarily saw the cracks in the foundation. She saw the cycle of overly charismatic preachers selling a version of the gospel that, if we’re being honest, wasn’t real. It was Jesus repackaged—not for transformation, but for personal gain. (Usually in the form of a big, shiny building.) She watched leaders use His name to build their own little empires, twisting music into a tool for emotional manipulation, and wielding shame like a weapon, all under the banner of “it’s for your own good.”

So, her skepticism isn’t a surprise. It’s a response. A defense against a version of faith that promised light but often delivered shadows… and this is what I want to talk about today. Why youth have been walking away from the church for years… and why for the first time young men are out numbering young women in our congregations.

My seminary graduation project was an in-depth paper examining the challenges within youth ministry in the United States. It specifically focused on how Bill Hybels’ Willow Creek model—particularly its entertainment-driven approach at Sun City—contributed to fostering a form of “fake Christianity.” The paper explored how prioritizing attractional, performance-based programs over discipleship and spiritual depth led to shallow faith formation among youth, raising concerns about the long-term impact on their spiritual growth and commitment.

In addition to analyzing the impact of entertainment-driven youth ministry models, my graduation project also explored how witnessing parental hypocrisy significantly contributes to students walking away from their faith—often long before they ever step foot on a college campus.

Many young people observe a stark contrast between how their parents present themselves at church and how they behave at home. At church, parents may appear deeply spiritual—serving in ministries, attending Bible studies, and speaking about Christian values—yet at home, they may display anger, judgment, racism, misogyny, dishonesty, or indifference toward living out the very faith they profess. This disconnect sends conflicting messages to their children, creating confusion and disillusionment about what it truly means to follow Jesus.

This kind of hypocrisy can subtly erode a child’s trust in both their parents and the Church. Rather than viewing faith as a transformative relationship with Christ, students may begin to see Christianity as a social obligation or performance. Over time, they may grow cynical, believing that if faith doesn’t change how their parents live day-to-day, it must not be real or meaningful.

This internal conflict often causes students to emotionally and spiritually disengage from their faith communities long before they physically leave home. They might go to church every Sunday and youth group every Wednesday night, but they’re merely checking a box, keeping their parents satisfied while feeling increasingly disconnected from the faith being presented to them.

Over time, this routine participation becomes hollow—a performance rather than a genuine pursuit of spiritual growth. Students may learn how to say the right things and engage in church activities, but inside, they wrestle with doubt, frustration, or even resentment. They may silently question the authenticity of the faith they see modeled, wondering why it doesn’t seem to transform daily life in meaningful ways.

This quiet disengagement can be mistaken for compliance, making it easy for parents and church leaders to overlook the deeper struggles these students face. By the time they reach college or adulthood, they often feel free to step away entirely because their faith was never personally owned—it was inherited, not internalized.

Without witnessing consistent, authentic faith at home, students are left vulnerable to viewing Christianity as shallow, performative, or irrelevant to real life. This disconnect highlights the critical need for parents and the church to model genuine discipleship—faith that is honest about struggles, rooted in grace, and visibly transformative in everyday actions. Only then can young people begin to develop a faith that is resilient, meaningful, and truly their own.

By the time they reach college or adulthood, they’re not “losing” their faith—they’ve already distanced themselves from it due to years of witnessing inauthentic faith modeled at home. My paper argued that this issue, combined with shallow, entertainment-focused youth ministries, creates a perfect storm that leaves students spiritually unprepared and disconnected. Addressing this problem requires more than just rethinking youth programs; it demands a call for authentic, consistent faith within families. Parents must model genuine, lived-out discipleship at home, demonstrating grace, humility, and a reliance on God not just in public but in their daily lives.

For those unfamiliar with our story, there was a defining moment during our time church planting in Rhode Island that deeply challenged and reshaped our perspective. It was as if God placed a mirror in front of us, revealing the weight of a truth we could no longer ignore. Jamie and I were struck by the realization that we hadn’t fully embraced our responsibility to intentionally disciple our own children. This conviction led us to sit down with Sydney and Brayden—just 11 and 8 years old at the time—and offer a heartfelt apology. We confessed that we hadn’t taken our role in guiding them spiritually as seriously as we should have.

But that conversation didn’t stop at an apology. We took the next, more humbling step: we gave them permission to hold us accountable. With their own professions of faith, Sydney and Brayden were no longer just our children—they were our brother and sister in Christ. That truth changed everything. It reframed how we led our family, how we loved them, and how we invited them to walk alongside us in faith. From that moment on, our family dynamic shifted into something deeper and richer—a shared journey of growing in Christ together, where accountability, grace, and discipleship became central to our home.

It was the best and worst decision of our lives. (It was really the best and I highly recommend it.) Now to the other issue.

Historically, youth church attendance has been steadily declining, but in recent years, a surprising shift has emerged: more young men are attending church than young women. This unexpected trend has sparked a critical question—why?

One possible explanation lies in how some churches embrace more rigid, patriarchal interpretations of Scripture, creating environments where traditional male dominance is not only accepted but celebrated. These spaces often frame male leadership and authority as divinely ordained, appealing to young men who feel drawn to clear, hierarchical structures that affirm their power and control.

This trend is further fueled by the rise of Christian nationalism, where faith becomes tightly intertwined with political identity, often promoting ideals of male strength, dominance, and authority as central to both religious and national identity. In these circles, being a “strong Christian man” is equated with defending traditional gender roles, family structures, and political ideologies. This messaging can be particularly appealing to young men seeking belonging, purpose, and identity in an increasingly complex world.

Simultaneously, many young women are stepping away from church spaces where they feel marginalized, silenced, or burdened by harmful teachings. The lingering effects of purity culture, the minimization of women’s voices in leadership, and a lack of meaningful engagement with issues like gender equality, mental health, and abuse have pushed many young women to disengage. They are increasingly unwilling to participate in faith communities that uphold systems of oppression under the guise of biblical authority.

The widening gap between young men and women in church attendance reflects deeper cultural and theological problems and alienates those seeking authentic, inclusive expressions of faith. Addressing this imbalance requires confronting these harmful ideologies head-on and reimagining church communities as spaces of justice, equality, and true discipleship for everyone.

As I wrap this post up, there is one more topic needing to be addressed… and it honestly needs its own post.

Jesus’ ministry was radically inclusive and justice-driven. He stood with the marginalized, challenged oppressive systems, and called out hypocrisy among religious leaders. He defended the outcast, uplifted the poor, and showed compassion to the hurting. Yet many youth look around and see churches avoiding conversations about systemic racism, poverty, climate change, and gender inequality. Even worse, some churches actively resist movements for justice, dismissing them as “too political” or “divisive.”

This disconnect leaves young people feeling disillusioned. They wonder how a faith built on love, compassion, and justice can ignore or oppose the very issues Jesus cared deeply about. When churches prioritize comfort, tradition, or political alignment over the well-being of the oppressed, youth begin to question the Church’s relevance and integrity.

Many feel that by avoiding or rejecting social justice, the Church is missing a critical opportunity to live out the Gospel in real and transformative ways. They long for a faith community that not only preaches about loving one’s neighbor but actively works to dismantle systems of injustice and advocates for the vulnerable.

Without this alignment between belief and action, young people are left searching for more authentic expressions of faith—spaces where following Jesus means standing up for justice, mercy, and truth in both word and deed.

CHALLENGE: If you have children, no matter the age, spend some time talking to them about their experiences in their faith communities. WARNING: It might be tempting to take a defensive posture depending on their answers. Try to fight against the temptation and truly listen to what they say. If you need some prompts to start the conversation, I’ll provide a few below

  • Do you feel like the church encourages you to think critically about your faith and the world, or does it pressure you to accept certain ideas without question?
  • Do you feel like you have the freedom to question or challenge what’s being taught at church? Why or why not?
  • What kind of church or faith community would make you feel most connected to God? What would it look like?
  • Is there anything about our faith or how we practice it as a family that feels confusing or uncomfortable to you?
  • Do you feel like our church welcomes and supports people who are different—whether in gender, race, background, or beliefs? Why or why not?
  • Have you heard any messages at church that blend Christianity with politics or patriotism? How do those messages make you feel?

Week 20: What if the Church Looked Different?

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Allison and Grey

Church: Sojourn Community Church

Lunch: Lo Main

Topic: Who Can Take Communion; Living OUT Church vs Going TO Church

About a month ago, Sydney and I were speaking at a monthly “networking” event when I was approached by Allison, who found my blog and expressed an interest in talking more about it at some point. We exchanged numbers and made a tentative plan to grab coffee in the New Year. But, when my plans to visit a church fell through a few weeks ago, I posted on Instagram asking if anyone was open to letting me tag along. Almost instantly, Allison sent me a DM, and just like that, our timeline got fast-tracked!

So, the Sunday before Christmas I visited Sojourn Community Church in the North Shore/ Hill City community. It was the last week of Advent and, honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but all the notes I had would eventually take a back seat to what happened during communion. This sacrament has always felt complicated to me. On one hand, it’s deeply personal—a reflection of grace, sacrifice, and our relationship with Christ. But on the other, it’s tied to the broader relationship one has with the church, and for me, that relationship has felt strained. Over time, communion began to feel more ritualistic than relational, like a practice I went through without feeling fully present in its meaning.

But in all my years of taking communion, across the country and around the world, I heard something during this service that I’ve never heard before. The pastor invited all believers in Christ to participate, but with an important qualifier—not if they were under church discipline. There was no explanation, which led me to have so many questions! (I’m hoping to connect with this pastor to have a conversation about the proclamation, but the lack of context has also provided me space to process my own thoughts, from my own experiences.)

Communion is not merely a ritual or a private exchange between us and God—it’s also a public affirmation of unity within the body of Christ. By excluding those under church discipline, he wasn’t being exclusionary for exclusion’s sake but was instead (I think) pointing to something vital about the heart of the Gospel: reconciliation.

While it might come across as gatekeeping the table, it could also be about honoring the purpose of communion—a celebration of Christ’s sacrifice that brings healing and unity, both with God and with His people. Communion is sacred, not just in its symbolism but in its implications. If someone is under church discipline, it’s often because there’s a significant break in their relationship with the church or its leadership, and taking communion without addressing that brokenness can feel contradictory. Communion is a time to reflect on grace and forgiveness, and part of that reflection involves confronting areas in our lives where reconciliation is needed.

This perspective can be challenging. How often do we think of communion as merely about our personal faith, forgetting its communal aspect? The pastor’s words remind us that the body of Christ is not just a metaphor; it’s a living, breathing community of believers bound together by love and accountability. To take communion while disregarding those connections would cheapen its meaning.

This connection to community was also something we talked about during lunch. In the South, the question “Where do you go to church?” is almost as common as asking about the weather. It’s a question that carries cultural significance, often serving as a gateway to connection or shared values. But it also raises a deeper question: Is church really something you can go to?

At first glance, “going to church” makes sense—it’s shorthand for attending a service or being part of a local congregation. But when we think about the essence of what the church is, the phrase feels incomplete… or outright wrong. The church isn’t a building, a Sunday morning service, or a place you check in and out of like a doctor’s office. The church is the people—the body of Christ, a community of believers united in their faith and purpose.

When we reduce the church to a location, we risk missing the richness of what it means to BE the church. Scripture consistently reminds us that the church is not about bricks and mortar but about lives being built together in Christ (Ephesians 2:19-22). It’s about relationships, discipleship, and living out the gospel in everyday life—not just for an hour on Sunday.

So instead of asking “Where do you go to church?” maybe the better question is, “Who are you doing life with?” AND “How are you living together as the church?” (And, personally, I think that last question is key!) These questions shift the focus from a physical place to the relational and spiritual essence of what it means to follow Christ.

These questions could also make a lot of people feel very uncomfortable.

Perhaps the most important question isn’t whether we go to church, but whether we are the church wherever we go. The idea of “going to church” can unintentionally create a passive mindset, where faith is compartmentalized into a weekly event. But when we see ourselves as part of the church, it becomes an active, ongoing participation in God’s mission—caring for others, seeking justice, and growing in faith.

And yet, to take it a step further, I believe one of the collective challenges in the contemporary church is our dependence on leadership to create those opportunities for local outreach. We often look to pastors and ministry directors to guide us, plan for us, and essentially carry the weight of creating the opportunities. While strong leadership is vital, this dependence can inadvertently rob the church—the people—of its call to take initiative in the everyday spaces where we live, work, and interact.

The Great Commission wasn’t given exclusively to church leaders; it was given to every follower of Christ. But in many cases, we’ve adopted a consumer mindset, where we wait for someone else to organize, fund, and lead the way in serving others. This creates a gap between what the church is called to be and what it often becomes: a group of people who attend but rarely step into their own agency as disciples actively living out the mission of God.

What would happen if we flipped that script? What if we stopped waiting for opportunities to be handed to us and started asking, “How can I be the church today?” What if, instead of looking to leadership to define our mission, we looked to our communities and identified ways we could personally engage—whether it’s loving a neighbor in need, advocating for justice, or sharing hope with someone who feels lost?

The truth is, being the church isn’t limited to organized programs or large-scale missions. It’s found in the everyday acts of kindness, the small sacrifices we make for others, and the courage to live out our faith in a way that reflects Christ. When we embrace that call, we empower the church to be what it was always meant to be: a living, breathing movement of people working together to make the love of Christ known in the world.

So perhaps the question isn’t only whether we are the church wherever we go, but whether we are willing to take personal ownership of the mission, instead of waiting for someone else to lead us there.

CHALLENGE: Take time this week to honestly reflect on your involvement in living out the mission of the church. Ask yourself:

  • Is my engagement in local “missions” dictated primarily by the opportunities presented by my church leadership, or am I actively seeking ways to serve and love others in my daily life?
  • How often do I rely on organized programs or events to fulfill my call to be the hands and feet of Christ?
  • In what ways am I personally taking initiative to reflect God’s love in the spaces I already inhabit—my workplace, neighborhood, school, or family?

Week 19: The Incongruence of Our Faith and Our Politics

by Searching For Jesus in America

I’m writing this in the early morning hours of January 6th after living through the worst “vacation” of my life. Jamie and I have spent the last three nights in a separate hotel room from our kids, quarantined away because I haven’t been able to keep anything down, hardly able to leave the bed…which has given me MORE than enough time to experience my fill of political commentary over the past few days. And after hours of tossing and turning in the early hours of this morning, I decided to do something I told myself I wouldn’t do… write about politics.

This is a topic our family often discusses—the incongruence of our faith and our politics. It’s a complex and deeply personal conversation, but I’ll start with a simple truth: no political party fully represents my faith, and no system of government can encapsulate the essence of what I believe. Faith, in its truest form, transcends the limitations of human institutions.

You’ll often hear statements like, “Jesus would be a socialist.” And, while I understand the sentiment—that Jesus valued care for the poor, community, and justice—the statement itself reveals a misunderstanding of His mission. Jesus wasn’t here to advocate, or live, for a particular political ideology; He was here to transform hearts, lives, and the way we relate to God and each other. Reducing His radical love and teachings to a political framework, whether socialist, capitalist, or any other system, misses the point.

Faith calls us to something higher, something that exists beyond the confines of political constructs. It challenges us to engage with the world in ways that reflect grace, compassion, and justice—not because of a political platform but because of a kingdom perspective. And when our politics conflict with our faith, it’s an invitation to reassess, realign, and remember that our ultimate allegiance lies not with any party, but with the God who calls us to love others as He has loved us.

Having said that… I feel today is an anniversary that needs attention, especially when it comes to my project.

Four years ago, January 6th became a turning point that reshaped the fabric of American life. It wasn’t just the day itself—the violence, the chaos, the stark display of division—but the ripple effects that have continued to unfold since. It marked a moment when deep political divides became impossible to ignore, driving wedges between loved ones, testing relationships, and challenging long-held beliefs.

Christian nationalism surged into the spotlight, blending faith with political ideology in ways that left countless Christians questioning what it truly means to follow Jesus in a polarized nation. I still remember sitting on our couch, watching the day unfold, and periodically seeing huge posters of Jesus—some even depicting Him wearing the infamous red “Make America Great Again” hat. It felt surreal, like I was watching a scene from a dystopian movie where faith and politics had been twisted into something unrecognizable. The Jesus I had grown up learning about—the one who preached love, humility, and service to others—seemed so far removed from the figure being co-opted and displayed as a symbol of power, dominance, and exclusion.

I couldn’t shake the disconnect. The juxtaposition of violent rhetoric, stormed barricades, and claims of divine endorsement left me questioning how we had arrived at this moment. It was as if the core message of Christianity—grace, mercy, and sacrificial love—had been buried beneath a heavy layer of nationalism, fear, and political tribalism. And in that moment, I couldn’t help but wonder how many people watching this unfold might walk away from faith altogether, unable to reconcile this version of “Jesus” with the one they’d once believed in.

And, in the years that followed… the answer was way more than I ever could have imagined.

For me, that day became a turning point. It forced me to examine what it means to truly follow Jesus in a world where His name is so often used to justify actions that seem completely contrary to His teachings. It sparked an uncomfortable but necessary journey of reflection—on faith, identity, and the ways we’ve allowed politics to shape our understanding of God instead of the other way around.

Family gatherings became battlegrounds for debates about truth, values, and loyalty, with political affiliations often taking precedence over shared histories and relationships. The idea of unity felt increasingly elusive as communities fractured along ideological lines.

This wasn’t just about politics, though. It was about identity and core values—about who we are as individuals, families, and a nation. Questions that had simmered under the surface for decades boiled over: What does it mean to be a Christian in America? Can faith and politics coexist without compromising one or the other? How do we rebuild trust when so much of our shared foundation feels shaken?

In the years since, these challenges have forced many of us to reevaluate everything—our relationships, our priorities, and even our faith. The events of January 6th didn’t just reveal what was broken; they offered an unflinching look at the work that lies ahead. And here I sit, reflecting on all of this in a hotel room far from my kids, sick in body but also in heart, realizing how much healing our families, communities, and nation still need.

Last night, I moved myself to the living area, curled up in a chair, and told Jamie the most hopeless, but honest, thing I’ve said in a while: “I just don’t know if it’s ever going to get better.” The weight of everything—politics, division, the state of the world—felt like too much to bear. It wasn’t just the big, global issues either; it was the everyday, relentless drumbeat of tension and uncertainty.

And the truth is simple… it might not.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt the sting of how raw they were. I’ve always been someone who holds on to hope, even in the darkest moments, but this time, I couldn’t muster it. Jamie didn’t say much; he didn’t need to. Sometimes, the most powerful response is just sitting in the silence together, acknowledging the heaviness without trying to fix it.

But even in that moment of despair, something unexpected happened. As the quiet stretched on, I started to think about the little glimmers of light that still break through the cracks—the genuine conversations I’ve had with neighbors, the small acts of kindness I’ve witnessed, the resilience I see in people determined to make their communities better.

And that is where hope lives, not in some sweeping, magical solution that fixes everything overnight… like the election of a politician… but in the small, steady reminders that goodness still exists. It’s in the choice to keep showing up, even when it feels futile, and in the belief that light, no matter how faint, can grow.

So while I may have been honest in my hopelessness, I’m also determined not to stay there. Because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that hope often starts as a flicker in the darkest of rooms—and sometimes, that’s all we need to keep going.

Week 18: Another Unexpected Surprise… or Two!

by Searching For Jesus in America

Who: Shannon

Church: The Well (Seventh-day Adventist)

Lunch: It was a night service so we went back to Shannon’s house.

Topics: What IS a Seventh-day Adventist? What is the ecumenical church?

A few weeks ago, my friend Shannon asked if I had any interest in attending a Seventh-day Adventist (SDA) Church because one of her regular customers at Niedlov’s is a pastor at The Well. Obviously, I was. But, my knowledge/association with this denomination is limited. Honestly, I only have three: 1) When I bought my first house, I couldn’t close on a Saturday because it was their Sabbath; 2) I’ve spoken at a Death and Dying class for the the past three years at the local Seventh-day Adventist college; and 3) My seminary was adamant that the SDA church is a cult.

So… there you go. SIGN. ME. UP.

I don’t want to waste a lot of time discussing the cult accusation, but I do feel like it needs to be addressed. The perception often stems from misunderstandings, theological differences, and the historical context of the denomination’s development. So, I’m going to geek out for a couple of paragraphs (for those who are interested). But, please note, this is a 100,000ft snapshot and will not go into great detail… and feel free to skip the next two paragraphs if you’re not interested.

The Seventh-day Adventist Church emerged from the Millerite movement of the 19th century, which incorrectly predicted the Second Coming of Christ in 1844. This event, known as the “Great Disappointment,” led to understandable skepticism. Some critics associate the SDA Church with the broader millenarian and apocalyptic movements of the time, which were often labeled as fringe or cult-like. Additionally, Ellen G. White, one of the SDA Church’s founders, is regarded as a prophet by Adventists. Her writings are highly respected within the denomination and often used alongside the Bible for guidance. Critics sometimes argue that SDAs elevate White’s writings to the level of Scripture, which they view as heretical. Adventists, however, assert that her writings are subordinate to the Bible and serve as an inspired commentary.

Some Christians conflate SDAs with groups like Jehovah’s Witnesses or Mormons due to a lack of understanding. These groups differ significantly in doctrine but are often lumped together as “cults” by those unfamiliar with their beliefs. But, when it comes to the biggest differences from more traditional Christian denominations, there are a few – Sabbath Observance:
SDAs believe the biblical Sabbath is Saturday, not Sunday, and emphasize its observance as a key aspect of faith; Investigative Judgment:
SDAs teach that Jesus is currently conducting a heavenly investigative judgment that began in 1844. This doctrine is unique to Adventism and can be seen as unorthodox by other denominations; Health Practices and Lifestyle:
many SDAs advocate for vegetarianism, abstaining from alcohol and tobacco, and maintaining healthy living as part of their faith. While many Christians value healthy lifestyles, some view these practices as overly prescriptive.

So… what was our experience?

To be fair, this wasn’t a typical church service. It was more a celebration of the Advent, including a potluck meal, a few Christmas carols, and the telling of the Christmas story by the youngest members of the congregation. From the moment we arrived, we were greeted with open arms. Mike, the pastor, was visibly surprised—but deeply moved—that we had chosen to join them. Over the next hour, we connected with some of the warmest, most genuinely curious people I’ve encountered since starting this project.

Continuing a trend I’ve come to treasure, it didn’t take long before I crossed paths with someone I already knew from the community—the professor from the Death and Dying class where I speak each year. The surprise on both of our faces was priceless, and I honestly couldn’t tell who was more shocked to see the other. What followed was a shared laugh and a warm hug, a moment that felt like more than just a coincidence. It was a beautiful reminder of the deeper connections that fuel my why for this project—the power of community, shared experiences, and the unexpected ways our paths intertwine.

As I delve deeper into this project, I find that the larger questions surrounding the ecumenical church increasingly center on themes of unity, diversity, and purpose within the broader Christian community. Drawing from my experience as a lens, here are some of the key questions that have repeatedly come up:

  1. What does true unity in the church look like?
    • How can churches across denominations come together in meaningful ways while respecting theological, cultural, and liturgical differences?
    • Is unity about agreement, collaboration, or something deeper, like mutual love and understanding?
  2. How can the church celebrate diversity without losing its shared mission?
    • In what ways can diverse traditions, practices, and interpretations enrich the ecumenical movement?
    • How can churches avoid letting differences become barriers to collaboration while maintaining authenticity in their individual beliefs?
  3. What role does community connection play in the ecumenical movement?
    • How can churches remain relevant and connected to their local communities while working toward broader unity?
    • How does encountering familiar faces in unexpected places (like the professor) remind us that the church exists beyond walls and doctrines?
  4. How do we define the ‘why’ of the ecumenical church?
    • What is the ultimate purpose of the ecumenical movement: to foster unity among Christians, to better serve the world, or to witness to the Gospel in a divided society?
    • How does a focus on shared mission, such as serving the marginalized or promoting justice, help to bridge divides?
  5. How does the ecumenical church navigate the tension between tradition and modern challenges?
    • How do we honor centuries-old practices and teachings while addressing contemporary issues like mental health, inclusivity, and societal polarization?
  6. What does success look like for the ecumenical church?
    • Is success measured in theological consensus, shared worship, collaborative service, or simply in the relationships built between people of faith?
    • How do we celebrate progress when unity feels elusive?

These questions invite reflection not only on theological or organizational challenges but also on the heart of what it means to embody Christ’s prayer in John 17:21: “that they may all be one.”

CHALLENGE: Take one of the six questions above and start a conversation with someone in your circle. Bonus points if it’s someone engaged with a different denomination… or holds a different political view?