I know that this is supposed to be the time of year when we focus on decking the halls and other fun stuff. But, today, something much more serious is on my mind. I really hate to refer you to this video, but I must. I think it serves as a vivid reminder that something is deeply broken in America. Please take a couple of minutes to watch to the end:

In what have typically been regarded as the highest strata in public life, particularly in academia, we have been robbed blind. While no one was guarding the goods, the Grinch has come and stolen what mattered most: the truth.

These universities are considered the elite among the elite. Can you even imagine a university president having difficulty condemning what would be obviously immoral if the question were posed in regard to African Americans or immigrants or members of the LGBT+ community. Here was the simple question asked by Congresswoman Elise Stefanik: “Does calling for the genocide of Jews violate [your university’s] code of conduct?”

Not one of the three presidents gave a clear “yes” in answer to that question. Not one. There appears to be no room in the inn for any clear distinction between right and wrong. Like you, I’m quite sure, I could hardly believe what I was seeing and hearing.

It appears that “tolerance” has led to anything but.

Under the banner of moral relativism, you see, every standard is up for grabs. When there’s no prevailing higher authority in place within a society, the collective morality devolves to the lowest common denominator – and we’re beginning to see just how low that can go.

Specifically, I think that we have a couple of “relativisms” on the loose right now in America. One I would call “Society Says Relativism.” This is when we allow unchecked government, media, and the entertainment industry (among other key players) to define morality. Next thing we know, we’re swimming in a stinky soup. The other form of relativism I would label “Because I Said So Relativism.” This kind might be even worse, because it allows for each one of us to determine ultimate moral standards, with no accountability whatsoever. It’s subjectivism on steroids, and we seem to be drowning in this too.

That’s what I think we’re observing in this video. Largely because of morally bankrupt politics, in my opinion, these key leaders refuse to issue a clear moral standard for their campuses. In fact, they appear to me to be offended that anyone would expect them to do so. Never mind that we’ve been sending and entrusting to them our brightest and our best students for years, if not generations, in the hopes that those students would enjoy the finest education on earth.

In a remarkably powerful and profound way, however, I do believe that all of this relates clearly to Christmas.

Our Lord Jesus came to this world to save us from morally bankrupt darkness (John 1:1-5). You and I are not to be angry at these academicians. Our petty anger would profit us nothing. Instead, this is our call to prayer. We ought to recognize the vastness of the spiritual black hole which is all around us, and we ought to cry out to God to bring to our land the revival of grace and truth which only He can send (John 1:14). Everybody needs Jesus, including us.

As you read these verses in John’s Gospel, I urge you not to miss that hope that is found in Verse 5: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” That promised light includes true wisdom, moral excellence, and knowledge of the ways and will of God. Faith in Christ opens the door for us to receive all of these immense blessings.

This Christmas season, let’s give the gift of Jesus to as many as we can. As we do, let’s keep front-and-center in our hearts and minds the fact that Christ loves the most unlikely candidates. Let every heart prepare Him room!

Pastor Charles

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” Or so they say. After all these years in pastoral ministry, I can tell you that the holiday season is a bona fide rough patch for many of the people with whom we interact on a daily basis. Said differently, “Merry” is not the universal mood as Christmas fast approaches.

And you and I, within the smorgasbord of emotions that mark these holidays that are upon us, have been called to love. We’ve been called to love deeply. We’ve been called to love like Jesus.

Colder and darker days are a contributing factor. So are unrealistic and unmet Norman Rockwellian expectations. Add to that enhanced awareness of loneliness and isolation. Then mix in financial pressure and insecurity. And we can all expect a heaping holiday helping of stress. For many, it becomes the perfect recipe for a pervasive sense of loss.

So here we are. Will we love? Christ has shown us the way. Our Messiah was “moved with compassion” when He encountered the harassed, the helpless, the lost, the sick, the hungry, the outcast, and the sorrowful (e.g., Matthew 9:36; 14:14; 15:32; 20:34; Mark 1:41; Luke 7:13). Lord, stir our hearts to love in action!

This will require us to sacrifice our own comfort. It’s much easier to pretend that everybody’s happy this time of year. But that’s not love. To love will mean that we, as best we can, choose to enter into the pain of our sisters and brothers and fellow image-bearers. We’ll have to ask some gracious questions. We’ll have to listen intently. We’ll have to dial down the judgment, and we’ll have to dial up the mercy. We may have to learn how to be a real friend.

Recently I’ve been captivated by a quote from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: “Every heart has its secret sorrows, which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad.” Wow. That thought arrests me. I’ve studied Longfellow enough to know that he arrived at that knowledge, as do we all, via his own particular journey of loss and grief. In our affliction, God’s Spirit comforts us so that we learn to comfort others (2 Corinthians 1:3-7).

The distance between a person’s life and what I know about that person’s life may be a million miles. When I look out across my congregation, it would be wise of me to assume that there’s some pain in every pew. Within your sphere of influence, the same goes for you. The season of Christmas is our opportunity to love those whose sense of loss is so debilitating that they can’t even give voice to their sorrows.

Sometimes Merry meets Malaise. Sometimes Merry mingles with Malaise. Sometimes Malaise sends Merry packing. Sometimes Malaise drives Merry to the train station and whisks her far, far away.

But our high calling remains unchanged. We’re to love in an incarnational kind of way – moving right into the messiness of the human condition that is all around us. After all, we serve the Christ who – moved by infinite love – stepped right into our broken world.

Pastor Charles

Yesterday I experienced a stint in the emergency room. For all of us, I believe, those are the moments that remind us just how fragile we really are. There in the waiting room, I recalled the poignant words of James … “You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes … you ought to say, ‘if the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’”

“If the Lord wills.” I think that’s the part that you and I are most likely to forget. We tend to make our plans as if our plans are, by nature, His plans. Then, along comes life to remind us that the Bible was true all along.

So it is with thanksgiving. We are to give thanks for whatever comes our way (1 Thessalonians 5:18). When we read that verse, and take it in, we realize the connection between the will of God and our giving of thanks. Thanksgiving is always the right thing to do. It is always God’s will for us to be His thankful people. The temporal circumstances of our lives are not the main thrust of thanksgiving, but God is.

So, how do we give thanks in life’s most difficult seasons? When our moment of imprisonment comes, literal or figurative, how do we sing hymns of praise like Paul and Silas? When our fate is uncertain under a tremendous weight of injustice or unfairness, like so many of our Christian forefathers and foremothers have endured, how do we stay the course of faith with a grateful heart? When God doesn’t seem to be working on our behalf, and when our lives feel shattered by overwhelming grief, how do we bring ourselves even to utter, “Thank You, God.”? These questions lie at the center point of our walk with Christ.

If you’ll let me, I’ll share with you here what’s bubbling up in my soul today …

T – Take just a moment to think about how good the Lord has been. By now, He has a track record on our behalf. We have tasted His mercies. We have witnessed His deliverance. We have known firsthand His “working all things for our good” – even some circumstances in which, for us, no hope remained.

H – He, and He alone, is writing my story. I may not understand this particular chapter, but it’s part of a grand design that’s nothing less than perfect for me. Even when I can’t understand what He’s doing, I can trust Him, fully.

A – Ask Him to show you exactly what you need to know. That’s part of the way in which we “pray without ceasing.” For me, sometimes at least, that means giving up my insistence to know the details regarding the next ten steps that I will take. God’s Word will always be enough for me to know that I can take one more step in the direction of following Christ.

N – Never waste a tear. Perhaps this is one of those seasons for you. It’s not particularly cheerful or full of obvious good fruit. That’s exactly where our Lord does His best work in us. That’s where He matures us. That’s where He transforms us. That’s where He longs to draw us closer than ever to His “precious, bleeding side.” I believe that one day soon, here or in eternity, you will thank Him for this season.

K – Kindness is always God’s nature. “Slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” That’s who God is, and who He will always be. You and I are not leaning on thin air right now, but we are leaning on His everlasting arms.

S – Satan couldn’t stop the empty tomb! In history’s most startling example of the forces of darkness unleashed in their fury against the forces of light, we’re left with no doubt about which forces ultimately prevail. The same Jesus who died and rose for us is praying for us in this very hour. He has not left us, nor will He ever.

I pray that these truths are a blessing to you today, no matter what you’re up against. If we will but look around, we will see evidence of God’s faithfulness even in our most difficult circumstances. I remember the words of William Cowper (1774): “Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face!”

Sweet Holy Spirit, fill our hearts with thanksgiving! For us, may it be not just a meal, or even a holiday, but a lifetime of humble praise.

Pastor Charles

We all need someone to show us the way. Someone who’s been traveling the road a little longer than we, who’s become accustomed to the strange and sometimes unpredictable nature of the road itself. Someone who’s aware of the high points along the way, making possible their gorgeous vistas for all to enjoy. And someone who’s also familiar with the low points that are coming when we round the next bend, where the floodwaters often rise and where tears have been known to flow.

Discipleship is not tremendously complicated. In fact, Christ showed us its beautiful simplicity when He chose twelve unremarkable fellows to be apostles. These guys weren’t particularly wise in the eyes of the world, but they would change the course of history, because Jesus would show them what life was all about. He would live with them, and journey with them. Eat with them. Laugh with them. Cry with them.

Christ would be for those men love wrapped in human flesh. That would include affirmation and encouragement, and it would also include honest challenge and rebuke when the time was right. They wouldn’t always understand the purposes behind Christ’s every move, but He would never be for them anything other than the faithful friend that each of them desperately needed.

Sometimes, when our world feels upside down, we need someone older and wiser to remind us that “this too shall pass.” We might not believe it when they say it, but we still need to hear it. Because it’s still a fact. An older mom can restore the sanity of a mom with two toddlers still in tow. An older husband can save the marriage of a strapping young dude with a roving eye.

Sometimes, age has nothing to do with it. We just need a friend. A shoulder to lean on. An understanding heart. A listening ear. Someone to celebrate with us the most seemingly trivial milestone. Or someone to weep simply because we’re weeping.

And we always need someone whom we can count on to tell us the truth. The absolute truth. Such founts of integrity may be few and far between. We can’t even measure their value. When it comes to matters of faith, we never get too smart to be reminded of the first and most foundational truths we ever learned. Those reworked lessons, when we need them again, are often the most impactful – as we don’t often realize the spiritual truth from which we’ve subtly wandered.

May the Lord rescue us from the Lone Ranger syndrome! You and I were never meant to go it alone. That’s not how we’re wired. In fact, propping up some prideful notion of autonomy is how we finagle ourselves into the worst kinds of trouble. Honestly, you and I are finaglers at heart. That’s why we need each other all along the way.

The Bible says that “a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12). When I’m holding on by a thread, that’s the kind of thread that I want to be holding. A thread of human friendship, but a thread that’s nothing short of a divine entanglement. When the strongest of gale force winds come howling, such friendship may get frazzled and frayed, but it can hold in the fiercest of storms.

Like we have been so deeply loved, we ought to love one another to death. In Christ, the honor and privilege are ours to love each other all the way home. “Greater love has no one than this.”

Pastor Charles

I need a new vision.

I’m not getting much of a vision by scrolling on my phone. In fact, it’s making me depressed. It’s supposed to make me feel connected to the whole world, but I can’t handle the whole world. It’s too much. It’s too heavy. I quit.

I need a new vision of God. I need to feel connected to God again – to the One who can handle the universe. Like Isaiah, I need to see some things with new eyes. It was around 740 B.C., “the year that King Uzziah died.” The Lord graciously showed the prophet some critical realities which were sure to leave a lasting impression (Isaiah 6).

I need a lasting impression, friends. Deep within my soul, today, I’m finding consolation in an old Irish hymn …

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light!

I need to remember the smoke and the fire. There were seraphim, for goodness’ sake! “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” What was Isaiah thinking? What was he hearing? What was he smelling? Whatever it was, it was enough for him to recognize himself as the wretch that he really was. A wretch like me. I need to remember how awesome the whole experience of seeing the Lord must have been!

I need to remember the grace and the glory. “Woe is me! I am a man of unclean lips.” Yep. That’s me. But my God has already made provision for that. Just as He provided for Isaiah, He has provided for me, but even better. He has sent His Son, to live the life that I failed to live, and to die the death that I deserved. What love! Isaiah didn’t earn it, and he didn’t do a thing except receive that loving touch: “Your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.”

I need to remember my calling. “Here I am! Send me.” I’m not worthy, but that never stopped the Lord from calling a servant into action. He might even put me on the frontlines today. And, wherever He sends us today, He goes with us. He is always manifestly present with us. We are His covenant people. We are the sheep of His pasture.

I need to remember a sovereign plan that blows my mind. Some hearts God will soften, and some He will harden. Who am I to question His wisdom or His ways? I’m simply the ambassador of His good news. The way before us may seem steep, friends, and the spiritual terrain difficult to navigate. Like Isaiah, at times, we’ll feel like crying: “How long, O Lord?” But He is here, and He will answer.

God, fix my eyes on You. On You alone. Please drown out the news and the noise of this world. May I be left with You, and may I find my complete satisfaction in Jesus Christ.

Riches I heed not, nor vain, empty praise
Thou mine inheritance, now and always
Thou and Thou only first in my heart
High King of heaven, my treasure Thou art!

Friends, perhaps some of you can hear my heart today. You can’t see me, but you can hear my heart. May the same be true of your walk with God on this autumn day in 2023. Maybe you can’t see the Lord working in all the ways in which you desire to see Him work … but, in your heart of hearts, you know that He’s right there with you …

High King of heaven, my victory won
May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heaven’s sun
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, O ruler of all!

Pastor Charles

My soul longs. It always desires more. It hungers. It seeks. It thirsts. Indeed, it craves. My soul is like a yearning machine. This can take the form of selfish idolatry, in which case I am perpetually unsatisfied and ungrateful. Or it can take the form of a holy longing for that which is of eternal value.

I don’t always know which one I’m experiencing. I can’t trust my heart, exclusively, to guide me (Jeremiah 17:9). It can be as crooked as a rural road in East Tennessee. But some of those same roads can be the most beautiful. Here’s my point: though it can become severely misdirected this side of heaven, my byzantine heart has the capacity to deeply love that which is truly lovely. And, if you’re a follower of Jesus Christ, then I’m going to loop you into my musings today.

As believers under the New Covenant, you see, Jeremiah doesn’t tell our entire story. Thankfully, the New Testament adds some critical clarity for us. Please allow me to mention just a few key truths. First of all, God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit (Romans 5:5). Secondly, though we were once slaves of sin, now we have become obedient from the heart (Romans 6:17). Thirdly, we can draw near to God with a true heart in full assurance of faith (Hebrews 10:22). Fourthly, we can know that we are of the truth, and we can reassure our heart before God, who is greater than our heart (1 John 3:20). And, if our heart does not condemn us, we can have confidence before the Lord (1 John 3:21).

Yes, you and I are a bit complicated. We still have to wrestle with some of our old sinful and selfish longings. But, by the power of the Spirit who now lives in us, we also have some new and renewed and unselfish longings. After all, because of Jesus, you and I are nothing short of new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17).

WE LONG to feel fully alive. Though our actions sometimes suggest otherwise, none of us wants to remain in a state of perpetual boredom. We may like wasting a little time here or there, but it never satisfies in the ultimate sense. Our cell phones can hold our attention, but they can’t satisfy any of our deepest needs.

WE LONG for the true and beautiful. During different seasons of life, we may be drawn to music with dissonant sounds … or to “art” without rhyme or reason … or to various forms of entertainment which glorify senseless violence. We’ve all been there at one time or another. But, in the end, God has wired us with a profound appreciation for that which makes purposeful sense in its design and display – and which points clearly to God’s own perfections.

WE LONG to be known and loved. Every time I prepare a couple for marriage, I remind them that this is what they both want from the other. I’ve never had a person argue that point with me, because we all know it’s true. This is why the truth of God’s grace toward us is so revolutionary. It is beyond our wildest dreams that the one who knows us best is also the one who loves us most. Thanks be to God!

WE LONG to be understood. Not just the couples planning for marriage, but all of us. We want someone who knows us so well that they can nearly complete our sentences. We want someone who accepts us – warts and all – and who gives us the benefit of the doubt on a regular basis. We want someone who cares about what we think, and how we feel. We want to matter.

WE LONG to enjoy that which is truly enjoyable. We’re weary of lukewarmness. We’re hungry for passion. Left to our own devices, we’ll channel that energy in the wrong direction. So we long for a day when all of our passions will be spent for the glory of God. When our delight will be in Christ, and in Christ alone. When we will live for an audience of One.

WE LONG to make a difference while we’re here. When it’s all said and done, will my impact upon this planet be for good? Will my time here have been well spent? Will my little ripples in the pond point anybody in the right direction? I’m so glad that the Author of my story is also the one who writes the final chapter.

WE LONG for perfect justice. There’s just something so broken about this place … we know that there are no human solutions … none of this injustice will be fixed without a cosmic miracle. “How long, O Lord?” We’re ready for the will of God to be done “on earth as it is in heaven.”

WE LONG to be liberated from a world of evil and strife. We recognize that no human being can broker the kind of peace that this world needs – in the Middle East or anywhere else. Our hearts crave the “shalom” which the Bile promises – the “peace which surpasses all understanding.”

WE LONG for the unbroken presence of God. Sooner or later, we tire of the mountaintop-to-valley spiritual rollercoaster ride. We don’t want another string of short-lived victories followed by another paralyzing defeat by our nagging sin. We get sick and tired of a spiritual journey where our growth in grace keeps getting punctuated by our own pride and ego. We’re ready to be done with all of the shortsighted and myopic spiritual amnesia which all too often has been ours. No. More. Sin. What we’re really longing for is home.

Perhaps C.S. Lewis summarized it best: “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Pastor Charles

As the beautiful days of autumn keep coming, our hearts are stirred to worship the gracious God who has allowed us to live in such a gorgeous part of His world. We ought to thank Him for each new day. Around this time of year, many of us used to sing, “For the beauty of the earth … Lord of all, to Thee we raise this our hymn of grateful praise!” I believe that, when we consider God’s bountiful care for us, we ought to praise Him for the freedom that is ours to make Christ known to others. I consider such freedom nothing short of a sacred trust, and a sacred responsibility.

Religious liberty matters for everybody. Just a few years ago, most people engaged in American political life understood this. It wasn’t that long ago, 1993 in fact, when Senator Ted Kennedy and Congressman Chuck Schumer advanced the Religious Freedom Restoration Act. That successful attempt to rearticulate the religious freedoms enshrined in the First Amendment was a political landslide, applauded by national leaders on both sides of the aisle. If you’re interested in the details, the RFRA passed unanimously in the U.S. House, and received only 3 “nay” votes in the Senate. And it was President Bill Clinton who signed it into law.

We’re now at a place where many, even within the church, are skeptical about the priority of religious freedom. I’m not entirely sure how we landed here so quickly, but we did. If you will allow me, I’d like to share with you why I’m praying for a revival of appreciation for what it means for you and me to enjoy the manifold blessings of a free church in a free state.

First of all, I feel compelled to remind you that religious liberty means so much more than what many today are labeling “freedom of worship.” Religious liberty surely includes the right to worship as we choose, but it also means that you and I are entitled to the freedom of conscience. We don’t have to think as we are told to think, and we don’t have to leave behind our personal convictions when we take a new job, or when we enter into a discussion in the public square. This freedom, I believe, is why we have been given a First Amendment, built right into the framework of American government. It is a remarkable blessing.

I am not at all claiming that you and I could not honor God, or live faithfully for Christ, without a First Amendment. That would be a ludicrous claim, as many of our brothers and sisters are serving our Lord joyfully under brutal dictatorial regimes across the globe, even as I pen these words. But I am saying that you and I should think long and hard before we abandon our religious freedoms by sheer neglect. After all, the best way to preserve a liberty is to exercise it. While we have such freedom, we ought to make much of Jesus wherever and however we can.

And I’m urging you not to fall for the deception that it is somehow inappropriate, at this particular point in history, for us to live as public ambassadors for Christ. There seem to be many in the culture who want us to leave our Christian ideology at home, but that’s not possible, friends. That’s not who we are. That’s not in keeping with our Lord’s marching orders for us. We must recognize that everybody, literally, brings their fundamental presuppositions into their discussions of important subjects. Buddhists and Muslims do it. Atheists and Marxists do it. So do followers of Christ. Expressing the beliefs that are most central to our souls is part of what it means to be human. It’s what God’s image bearers do by our nature. God communicates from the heart, and so do we.

It is a cruel thought that any government would seek to deprive any person, in any place or at any time, of such freedom. Such action would be far beyond the boundaries of any government’s God-ordained function as the state. While you and I have influence, surely we should speak up on this subject.

Fundamentally, friends, this is not an “American” concern. Tertullian, the prolific African thinker and writer who was born in Carthage in 160 A.D., rightly understood that religion arises from inner conviction, not from external coercion, and that the inherent freedom of the human soul must be cherished and protected. I contend that you and I ought to deeply desire that fundamental freedom for every person on Planet Earth.

I’m not advocating for any kind of hostile takeover. You and I must live humbly and respectfully in our lane as well. I’m simply advocating for a little more “robust winsomeness” on our part. Like that term? I just made it up. This is how I see the Apostle Paul conducting his ministry in Athens in Acts 17. He isn’t foaming at the mouth with anger, but he is right there in the Areopagus, in the middle of all the action. He isn’t despairing because he has to function within a broad marketplace of competing philosophies, but he shows tremendous compassion and grace by seeking to understand where the people around him are coming from. He doesn’t speak down to the crowds or try to silence the voices of his detractors, but he does share the saving gospel of Christ when the moment is right. This is LOVE. So, I suppose, I’m calling us to love.

As followers of the Lord Jesus Christ, you and I are His salt and His light (Matthew 5:13-16). We preserve the truth. We stall the decay. We shine a ray of hope into the darkest places here on earth. Will this be an easy road? Hardly. Far, far from it. It was never intended to be easy.

But we do not travel this road alone.

Pastor Charles

It was a cosmic invasion. Two millennia ago, our Creator invaded space and time. He who had decreed, “Let there be light” … came to be the light. To lead us out of darkness. To give us the light of life. To give us Himself.

I was the arrogant and volatile warmonger, blindly desperate for a heavenly intervention. I was the wayward rebel who needed to be captured. Myself the last to know the truth, my prognosis was fatal. I supplied only the brokenness. He subdued me, using only the weapons of mercy and kindness. Sacred weapons. Sacred weapons indeed.

And my capture would mean my freedom. Nothing on earth could have liberated me. No philosophy or ethic or power. No slick or sophisticated political maneuver. No impressive religious observance.

But the lover of my soul ran to redeem me. I had spent all of my time distancing myself from His perfections, but He bridged the gap that I couldn’t even see. He embraced a militant enemy. He made me someone new.

And He keeps invading. He cherishes even foolish wanderers like me. Sooner or later, He helps me see what human eyes can’t see.

I see a world in need of what can only be freely received. It can’t be bought or earned. What we need is like the wind. It’s as real as real can be, but it comes from another place.

We need a light in the darkness. We need the one who is the only hope of shepherds and presidents and kings. We need God with us! And, in every corner of our Father’s world, we need an explosion of His grace. We supply only the brokenness.

It’s not yet Christmastime, but the words of an angel army still ring true. They beckon us to a renewed and desperate compassion for a broken and war-torn planet …

“Peace on earth, goodwill to men.”

Pastor Charles

I’m observing quite a bit of conflict, including sharp disagreements among sincere Christians, stemming from events in the Middle East. Here are my thoughts. They don’t fall neatly into any one camp, but I don’t mind.

1. The church has not replaced Israel. The church is the continuation of Israel. We Gentiles are the ingrafted branches, by faith, into the same tree. Surely we have fondness for Abraham, one of the spiritual fathers with whom God has blessed us all.

2. There aren’t two paths to salvation, Jewish and Gentile. There is only one way, and Christ is that Way. There is no other way.

3. Some of the promises God made to Israel find their fulfillment in the church. Other promises were made to ethnic Israel. This is not a contradiction, but a matter of God revealing the good news of His kingdom at different times and in different places. But it’s all the telling of one story, and that story leads to none other than Jesus Christ.

4. The “end times” described in Scripture were not given to us to frighten us. Nor were they given to puff us up with pride because “we’ve got it all figured out.” We don’t. There is mystery in the ways of God, and that’s as it should be. He is God, and we are not. What we can understand about eschatology was given to make us bold and confident in Christ, our gracious Messiah, even in a day of relentless distress.

5. Regardless of our particular theological camp, we ought not live as if we’re destined to escape suffering here on earth. We should expect to suffer. No teaching of “rapture” should work in us any mindset other than the passionate desire to remain faithful to the end.

6. When it comes to these great doctrines, we can agree to disagree about some of the finer points. We all have blind spots, and we all unknowingly operate under false assumptions. The reality of eternity calls us to humility. This much we know for sure: the Lord is coming again!

7. To love God is to love God’s people, and to love those who are not yet God’s people. Christ wept over Jerusalem. Christ wept at the grave of Lazarus. On the eve of His sacrificial death for you and for me, Christ wept in the garden. He weeps over human sin and suffering, and His weeping crosses every ethnic boundary. May we weep whenever God’s image-bearers are slaughtered or oppressed, be they Jewish or Gentile, and may we pray for Christ’s own peace – His gorgeous and glorious “shalom” – to reign in every heart.

Pastor Charles

I’ve made multiple trips to Armenia over the last couple of decades, where I’ve served Christ alongside the Armenian Relief Mission – mostly in the cities of Yerevan and Vanadzor. (ARM was born after the devastating Spitak earthquake of 1988.) On a couple of those trips, Eileen has been able to join me. We fell in love with the gracious Armenian people. When delivering food to people living in abandoned shipping crates, we learned just how far a family can stretch a bag of potatoes to prepare for brutal winter conditions. ARM has built a number of playgrounds over the years. This photo was captured in 2006, and you can see why Eileen and I left part of our heart in Armenia.

Armenia’s history includes a number of exceedingly tragic chapters. Perhaps the harshest example is the Armenian Genocide of 1915-1916, when the Ottoman Empire annihilated as many as 1.2 million Armenians. In fact, in the vocabulary of international law, the origin of the term “genocide” dates back to that horrrific event on the world stage. Turkish authorities, supported by auxiliary troops and sometimes civilians, perpetrated the vast majority of the murders.

But there has always been a gospel light in Armenia! You can sense this when you’re there among the people. Many historians trace Christianity in Armenia back to the apostles, and there is evidence of a Christian community in Armenia prior to the fourth century. In fact, Christianity was declared Armenia’s official religion in the year 301. I have found it thrilling to preach the gospel, train pastors, minister to refugees, and deliver medical supplies on my various mission trips to the land where Mount Ararat – the resting place of Noah’s Ark after the flood – remains the national symbol. So I wish I could report to you that all is well in Armenia, but that is not the case. It is, yet again, a country threatened by hostile forces and plagued by relentless turmoil.

Here’s a synopsis of the present crisis in that part of God’s world. Azerbaijan is forcibly blockading the small statelet of Nagorno-Karabakh. This is the Armenian region of Artsakh, and it’s a mountainous territory in the South Caucasus. (Think of where Eastern Europe meets West Asia.) The blockade is threatening more and more lives, as the Armenians are being prevented from receiving necessary food, medical, and fuel supplies. Ilham Aliyev, the president of Azerbaijan, seems drunk with power. Aliyev is capitalizing on this humanitarian crisis to stoke the flames of longstanding racial prejudice and to push Azeri (Azerbaijani) forces further and further into Armenia. This is nothing short of the same demonic sort of ethnic cleansing that the people have faced before. Remember, Armenia is a Christian nation completely surrounded by Islamic nations. On top of that, Armenia is totally landlocked.

For Armenia, all of this means more and more refugees living in desperate conditions. Right now, by way of example, there are displaced families crowded into the orphanage that sits adjacent to one of the medical clinics operated by the Armenian Relief Mission. The conditions are heartbreaking.

I’m inviting you to partner with me in bringing hope and joy to some Armenian children this Christmas. Similar to last year’s project, we will make holiday boxes available to you and your kids, which you can supply with personal expressions of love and care. We will give you a packing list with your empty box, and you will return the box filled and labeled by age and gender. For the children who receive these boxes – each box hand delivered by evangelical followers of Jesus – you will have made a colossal impact for good in what is otherwise a very difficult season.

As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.
1 Timothy 6:17-19

Despite the sobering nature of this blog posting, we can be certain that “God seeks what has been driven away” (Ecclesiastes 3:15). The Armenians have endured bitter treatment and harsh conditions for much of human history, but we trust that our sovereign God – who is not bound by time or space as we are – is writing a larger story of deliverance and grace.

Within the next couple of weeks, we’ll start packing our Christmas boxes at Green Hills Community Church. I hope you’ll join us.

Pastor Charles