Confession of Beliefs, Faith, and Confidence



1. The Bible

I Believe
that the Bible is the inspired, trustworthy, and authoritative Word of God, the supreme guide for what I believe and how I live.

I Am Confident
because its manuscripts are preserved with extraordinary accuracy, its history confirmed by archaeology, its prophecies fulfilled in Christ, and Jesus Himself affirmed its truth. The Bible continues to transform lives and cultures across centuries, showing divine origin and power.

Scripture
2 Tim 3:16–17; 2 Pet 1:20–21; Ps 19:7–11; Ps 119:105; Matt 5:17–18; John 10:35; Luke 24:27.



2. God

I Believe
in one God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—eternal, holy, sovereign, and love.

I Am Confident
because creation, morality, and human longing point to a personal Creator. Only the triune God revealed in Scripture explains reality fully and satisfies the deepest needs of the heart.

Scripture
Ex 3:14; Ex 34:6–7; Deut 6:4; Isa 6:1–5; Ps 139; Acts 17:24–28; Matt 28:19; 2 Cor 13:14.



3. Jesus Christ

I Believe
that Jesus Christ is fully God and fully man, the eternal Son who became flesh, lived a sinless life, died for my sins, rose bodily from the dead, and reigns as Lord.

I Am Confident
because the evidence for His resurrection is overwhelming: eyewitnesses, empty tomb, transformed disciples, fulfilled prophecy, and the rise of the Church. No other religious figure has claimed and proved divinity as He did.

Scripture
John 1:1–14; Phil 2:5–11; Col 1:15–20; Heb 1:1–4; Isa 53:5; 2 Cor 5:21; Rom 3:21–26; 1 Cor 15:3–8; Matt 1:23.


4. The Holy Spirit

I Believe
in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life, who convicts the world of sin, regenerates the sinner, indwells, seals, and sanctifies believers, distributes gifts for service, and produces fruit of holy character.

I Am Confident
because His transforming work is seen in changed lives across centuries and cultures, producing unity, gifts, and fruit beyond human ability. He continues to glorify Christ and empower the Church for mission.

Scripture
John 3:5–8; John 14:16–17, 26; John 16:7–15; Acts 1:8; Acts 5:3–4; Rom 8:9–16; 1 Cor 12:4–11; Gal 5:22–23; Eph 1:13–14.


5. Angels & Satan

I Believe
that God created His holy angels as servants and messengers, and that Satan and his demons are fallen angels who oppose Him but stand defeated at the cross and doomed for final judgment.

I Am Confident
because evil is not merely abstract but personal. Yet Christ triumphed at the cross, disarming the powers of darkness. Believers resist not in fear but in God’s strength, clothed with His armor.

Scripture
Heb 1:14; Ps 103:20–21; Gen 3; Matt 4:1–11; Luke 10:18; Eph 6:10–18; 1 Pet 5:8–9; Col 2:15; Rev 12:7–12.



6. Humanity & Life

I Believe
that man and woman were created in the image of God— to know Him, love Him, and reflect His glory.
Life is God’s sacred gift, beginning at the moment of conception.
The unborn are fearfully and wonderfully made, known and called by God before birth, and worthy of dignity, protection, and love.
Through sin, humanity fell, and now all have sinned and fall short of God’s glory.
Yet in Christ we are made new, restored as His image-bearers and called into fellowship with Him.

I Am Confident
because humanity’s uniqueness — conscience, creativity, worship, and love — cannot be explained apart from God’s image. Science affirms that life begins at conception, while Scripture insists on the dignity of every person. Christianity both exalts human worth and diagnoses human sin, giving the truest picture of man.

Scripture
Gen 1:26–28; Gen 2:7; Ps 8; Ps 139:13–16; Jer 1:5; Luke 1:41; Ex 21:22–25; Rom 5:12–19; Rom 3:23; Acts 17:26–28; 2 Cor 5:17.


7. Sin

I Believe
that sin is rebellion against God, corrupting every part of our being, separating us from His presence, and bringing death as its wage. But God, rich in mercy, forgives those who repent and cleanses us from all unrighteousness.

I Am Confident
because sin explains both personal failure and global brokenness. Scripture’s verdict that “all have sinned” matches reality. Yet God’s grace in Christ proves that sin’s curse is not the last word.

Scripture
Rom 3:9–23; Rom 6:23; Isa 59:2; 1 John 3:4; Jas 4:17; Rom 14:23; Ps 51; 1 John 1:9.



8. Salvation

I Believe
that salvation is by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone.
By His mercy we are justified, adopted into God’s family, sanctified by His Spirit, and kept by His power until the day of glory.
I believe He who began a good work in me will carry it to completion at the day of Christ Jesus.

I Am Confident
because the gospel is grounded in fact, not feeling. The cross satisfies God’s justice; the resurrection guarantees life. Salvation rests in Christ’s finished work, not human effort, making assurance possible.

Scripture
Eph 2:1–10; John 3:16; Titus 3:4–7; Rom 5:1–11; Rom 8:1, 28–39; 2 Cor 5:17–21; John 10:28–29; Phil 1:6.



9. The Church, Lord’s Day, Marriage & Mission

I Believe
in the one holy Church, the body and bride of Christ, set apart for worship, fellowship, and mission.
We are a royal priesthood, called to proclaim His marvelous light.
Christ gave us baptism and the Lord’s Supper as signs of His grace and our covenant in Him.
We gather on the Lord’s Day to worship, rest, and renew our devotion.
The Church is sent to the nations, and every believer is called to witness, to make disciples, and to live as Christ’s ambassador.
I believe God created marriage as the covenant union of one man and one woman for life, a holy mystery reflecting Christ and His Church, the foundation for family, fruitfulness, and faithfulness.

I Am Confident
because the Church has endured through persecution and failure, yet thrives across cultures. Worship on the Lord’s Day strengthens believers in faith. Marriage continues to witness to God’s covenant love. Evangelism through ordinary Christians advances the gospel powerfully.

Scripture
Matt 16:18; Matt 28:18–20; Acts 2:42–47; Acts 20:7; Rev 1:10; 1 Cor 12; Eph 4:1–16; 1 Pet 2:9–10; Heb 10:24–25; 2 Cor 5:20; Eph 5:31–32; Gen 2:24; Matt 19:4–6; Heb 13:4.



10. Stewardship

I Believe
that all I have—time, talents, and treasure—belongs to God, entrusted to me as His steward.

I Am Confident
because the earth is the Lord’s, and I am His trustee. Faithful stewardship glorifies Christ, blesses others, and brings eternal reward.

Scripture
Ps 24:1; 1 Cor 4:2; 2 Cor 9:6–8; Matt 25:14–30.



11. Peace, Justice & Liberty

I Believe
that Christ calls me to seek peace, pursue justice, defend the oppressed, and love mercy.
I believe in religious liberty, that faith cannot be coerced, and that church and state are distinct under God’s authority.

I Am Confident
because God’s kingdom is righteousness and peace. Religious liberty protects conscience, allowing true worship. Justice and mercy flow from God’s heart and remain central to the Church’s witness in the world.

Scripture
Micah 6:8; Amos 5:24; Jas 1:27; Matt 5:9; Rom 12:18; Eccl 3:8; Matt 22:21; Rom 14:5; Gal 5:1.


12. The Future

I Believe
that Jesus Christ will return in glory, visibly and with power, to raise the dead, to judge the nations, and to make all things new.
The redeemed will dwell forever with God in the new heavens and the new earth, where righteousness, peace, and joy abound.
The wicked will face eternal separation from Him.

I Am Confident
because prophecy fulfilled in Christ’s first coming assures His second. The resurrection of Jesus is the pledge of our resurrection. Hope in eternity provides courage and joy for the present.

Scripture
Acts 1:11; Titus 2:13; 1 Cor 15:20–28, 50–58; 1 Thess 4:13–18; Matt 25:31–46; John 5:28–29; Rev 20:11–15; Rev 21:1–5; 2 Pet 3:10–13.



13. The New Covenant of Love

I Believe
in the new covenant that Jesus gave: to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. On these commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.

I Am Confident
because love fulfills the Law, and the Spirit empowers what the Law demands. The history of Christian love — in hospitals, schools, abolition, reconciliation — testifies to God’s presence in His people.

Scripture
Deut 6:5; Lev 19:18; Matt 22:37–40; John 13:34; John 15:12.


14. Assurance of Salvation and the Life Ever After

I Believe
that those who trust in Christ have eternal life and cannot be separated from the love of God.
At death the believer is present with the Lord, awaiting the resurrection of the body.
In the age to come, God will wipe away every tear, death shall be no more, and His people will dwell in His presence forever in glory.

I Am Confident
because Scripture promises that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. Assurance rests not on feelings but on God’s promises, Christ’s finished work, and the Spirit’s witness. Jesus told the thief on the cross, “Today you will be with Me in Paradise.” Paul declared, “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” Revelation describes heaven as a restored creation: no curse, no sorrow, no night, for the Lamb is its light. This hope anchors the soul, conquers fear of death, and fills the believer with longing for eternity.

Scripture
Rom 8:38–39; John 10:28–29; John 14:1–3; Luke 23:43; 2 Cor 5:6–8; Phil 1:21–23; 1 Thess 4:16–17; Rev 21:3–4; Rev 22:1–5.



15. The Way of Salvation — Becoming a Christian

I Believe
that to become a Christian, a person must respond to God’s grace with repentance from sin and faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.
Salvation is not earned by works or religious effort but is received as a gift of grace.
Those who call on the name of the Lord will be saved, baptized as a public witness, and joined to the body of Christ.

I Am Confident
because Scripture clearly reveals the steps of response:

  • Hearing the gospel of Christ crucified and risen (Rom 10:17).
  • Repenting of sin and turning to God (Acts 2:38).
  • Believing in the Lord Jesus Christ with the heart (Acts 16:31; John 3:16).
  • Confessing Him openly as Lord (Rom 10:9–10).
  • Being baptized in obedience as the sign of new life (Acts 2:41; Matt 28:19).
  • Living as a disciple in fellowship with the Church, growing in faith and obedience (Acts 2:42).

This is the biblical pattern: by grace through faith, in Christ alone, sealed by the Spirit, demonstrated in repentance and baptism, and lived out in the community of believers.

Scripture
John 3:16; Acts 2:37–41; Acts 16:30–31; Rom 10:9–13, 17; Eph 2:8–9; Titus 3:4–7; 1 John 1:9; Matt 28:19–20.


Closing

This is my faith and my confidence—
what I believe and why I believe it.
Founded on God’s Word,
grounded in history,
confirmed by reason,
and lived by the Spirit’s power.
To God alone be glory,
forever and ever. Amen.


Sources:

  • Suggested by Dr. Bobby Waite
  • The Scriptures
  • Paul E. Little
    • Know What You Believe (1967) – a summary of essential Christian doctrines.
    • Know Why You Believe (1968) – addressing questions and objections to the faith.
  • The Baptist Faith and Message (2000)
  • Compilation & Expansions by Lewis McLain & AI

In the World but Not of the World: A Christian Call to Distinction and Engagement

By Lewis McLain & AI

Introduction: Living the Tension

The Christian life is lived in paradox. On one hand, believers are deeply embedded in the structures, relationships, and responsibilities of this world. We work, raise families, pay taxes, build communities, and live under governments. Yet Scripture repeatedly warns that our allegiance cannot be captured by the world’s systems. Jesus’ prayer in John 17 makes the distinction clear: “They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world” (vv. 14–18).

This passage highlights two realities: Christians belong to another kingdom, and yet they are sent on mission within this world. Faithful discipleship requires living in that tension—refusing assimilation into sin while engaging the world in love.


Biblical Foundations: The World Defined

The Bible uses “world” in two contrasting ways.

  1. The Created World – God’s good creation, which reveals His glory (Genesis 1:31; Psalm 19:1). Believers are called to enjoy and steward this gift.
  2. The Fallen World-System – The rebellious order under Satan’s sway, opposed to God’s rule (1 John 5:19). This world is marked by lust, pride, idolatry, and hostility to God (1 John 2:15–17).

The Christian calling is not to flee the physical world, but to resist the spiritual corruption of the age. Paul urges: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2).


Pilgrims and Ambassadors: Our Identity

Christians are pilgrims—temporary residents in a foreign land (Hebrews 11:13; 1 Peter 2:11). Pilgrims do not despise the land they pass through, but neither do they mistake it for their final destination. This imagery keeps believers from despair when they feel out of step with the culture.

At the same time, Christians are ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5:20). Ambassadors live in foreign territory to represent the interests of their true homeland. Likewise, the Church exists within the nations of the earth to represent the Kingdom of God.

This dual identity means Christians must engage the world with courage and clarity—neither assimilating to its patterns nor retreating into isolated enclaves.


The Discipline of Distinction

Being “not of the world” requires deliberate spiritual discipline:

  • Holiness – Resisting sin, cultivating purity, integrity, and obedience.
  • Renewed Minds – Forming thoughts through Scripture rather than cultural trends (Romans 12:2).
  • Alternative Allegiance – Refusing to idolize money, power, or popularity, embracing instead Christ’s call to humility and service (Mark 10:42–45).

Importantly, this distinction is not for pride but for witness. Jesus called His disciples “the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14–16). Distinctive lives expose darkness and point others toward God.



Confrontations with the World Today

The call to be “not of the world” is not abstract; it collides with the realities of our cultural moment.

1. Materialism and Consumerism

Our age glorifies accumulation and consumption. Advertising disciples us to believe that happiness lies in what we buy. The Christian response is countercultural generosity. Instead of hoarding, we give. Instead of self-indulgence, we practice contentment (Philippians 4:11–13).

2. Sexual Morality and Identity

Culture increasingly defines truth and identity apart from God’s design. Believers face pressure to conform or be silent. The biblical response is to hold to God’s created order with compassion and clarity—neither compromising truth nor withholding grace. Jesus modeled this when He forgave the woman caught in adultery but also told her, “Go and sin no more” (John 8:11).

3. Political Idolatry

Nations often demand ultimate loyalty. Some Christians are tempted to baptize political ideologies as ultimate truth. Yet Scripture reminds us that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36). Faithful Christians may participate in civic life, but they must never confuse earthly politics with the reign of God.

4. Truth in a Post-Truth Age

In an era of misinformation, propaganda, and relativism, Christians are called to bear witness to truth. Jesus declared, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). To live “not of the world” is to speak truth even when it costs us—whether about human dignity, justice, or the reality of sin and salvation.



Necessary Reactions: Courage and Grace

When confronted by the world’s pressures, the Christian response must be twofold:

  • Courage – Refusing to compromise when obedience to God conflicts with cultural demands. Like Daniel refusing to bow to Babylon’s idols (Daniel 3, 6), believers must be willing to stand apart, even at personal cost.
  • Grace – Responding without hatred or fear. Christians are not called to wage war against culture but to embody Christ within it. Paul reminds us: “Let your gentleness be evident to all” (Philippians 4:5). Our distinctiveness must be marked by love, not arrogance.


Hope: Our True Citizenship

The strength to resist the world comes from hope. Paul anchors believers’ identity in heaven: “Our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20). Christians endure because they know the world’s systems are temporary, but God’s kingdom is eternal.

This hope reframes suffering. Loss, ridicule, or persecution are not signs of defeat, but marks of fidelity. Jesus promised: “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me” (Matthew 5:11).


Conclusion: A Witnessing Presence

To be in the world but not of it is to live as holy exiles and faithful ambassadors. It is to work, serve, and love within our communities while refusing to bow to the idols of our age. It means meeting confrontation with courage and grace, proclaiming truth with compassion, and embodying hope when despair seems dominant.

In the end, Christians are not defined by withdrawal from the world, nor by conformity to it, but by their witness within it. As Jesus prayed, they are sent into the world for its redemption, bearing the light of a kingdom not yet fully seen, but one day revealed in glory.

A Turning Point in Heaven’s Light

A collaboration between Lewis McLain and AI
(Please distribute widely if you believe this writing is worthy)


Canto I – The Rise

In northern towns where prairies sprawl,
A boy first heard conviction’s call.
Not bred of wealth, nor crowned by birth,
Yet stirred by fire of higher worth.

With restless zeal, he seized his chance,
Where most saw chaos, he saw stance.
He stood on stages, sharp and plain,
A mind inflamed, a heart unchained.

No parchment crown, no ivy’s grace,
Yet destiny had marked his place.
And in the halls where doubters throng,
He forged his faith, he found his song.

From early days, the watchers knew,
This voice could shake, this word was true.
And those who heard, both young and old,
Would tell in time the tale retold.



Canto II – The Mission

He raised a banner, bold, untorn,
And Turning Point that cause was born.
Not ink alone, but flesh and flame,
The title spoke, became his name.

Through campuses where youth reside,
He lit conviction far and wide.
The student found a voice to speak,
The timid heart grew strong, not meek.

He carried faith from hall to hall,
And many bowed beneath its call.
For when he spoke, the air grew still,
He moved the mind, he bent the will.

And praise arose, like thunder’s roll,
From college steps to nation’s soul.
The farmer, teacher, preacher too,
Admired the fire his spirit drew.

And at his side, in kinship near,
The President lent voice sincere.
For Trump himself would often say:
“This Kirk inspires, he lights the way.”


Canto III – The Trial

But every prophet, every seer,
Must taste the weight of scorn and sneer.
His foes were many, fierce, and loud,
Yet still he stood before the crowd.

They mocked his youth, they scorned his creed,
Yet millions felt their spirits freed.
For each sharp jeer, a cheer was raised,
And countless souls their voices praised.

The college freshman, shy, unknown,
Would write, “He helped me find my own.”
The seasoned statesman, gray with years,
Would nod and say, “His strength appears.”

And when the storm grew dark with hate,
Admiring voices held the gate.
From kitchen table to marble dome,
They claimed his words, they called him home.

Like Daniel firm amidst the roar,
Like David standing once before
A giant’s sneer, a sharpened blade,
So Kirk in courage never swayed.

And praise, once whispered, now was sung,
From every heart, from every tongue.
And now, forever, shall it be—
His name remembered, praised, set free.



Canto IV – The Martyrdom

The hall grew hushed, the night grew cold,
As Charley spoke with courage bold.
He answered questions, sharp and grave,
And called the fearful hearts to brave.

But shadows stirred, a shot rang clear,
The silence broke with sudden fear.
From rooftop’s height the bullet came,
And darkness sought to quench his flame.

The students wept, the faithful cried,
The nation’s pulse was torn inside.
And yet, in Heaven’s courts above,
The gates flung wide with holy love.

For Christ, who bore the cross alone,
Received dear Charley to His throne.
No longer mocked, no longer tried,
The martyr lives, the saint has died.

And voices rose, both near and far,
“His life was bright, a guiding star.”
From college dorms to Washington,
The praise poured out: “Well done, well done.”


Canto V – The Legacy

Now history bends at this sharp turn,
A Turning Point where all must learn.
Not only name of cause he led,
But symbol where his blood was shed.

For Charley’s fight shall not be stilled,
His words endure, his hope fulfilled.
The youth he moved will yet arise,
And carry fire that never dies.

The farmer, worker, preacher, friend,
Will guard his mission to the end.
And even presidents will claim
The echo of proud Charley’s name.

For though the man lies still in rest,
His spirit marches, strong, confessed.
And now and evermore shall ring
The heaps of praise that people sing.


Epilogue: A Prayer

O Lord of mercy, Lord of light,
Embrace Your servant in Your sight.
Bless Charley’s kin, console their pain,
Let hope and comfort still remain.

Guard his dear wife, his circle near,
Dry every anguished, falling tear.
And for our land, so bruised, so torn,
Let healing in Your grace be born.

Turn wrath to peace, turn hate to love,
Rain down Your mercy from above.
Unite this nation, fractured, sore,
In faith and freedom evermore.

Through Jesus Christ, whose cross we raise,
Receive our thanks, our prayer, our praise.
Amen.

History vs. Heritage Are Two Different Things

This essay did not begin in isolation. It is the product of a long friendship and professional journey with my colleague and friend of 45 years, Dan Johnson. Dan is a retired city manager whose career I followed closely from start to finish. Though he often insists that I have been something of a mentor to him, being nearly eight years his senior, I have long considered him one of my most outstanding mentors.

Dan is unusually gifted: bright, articulate, persuasive, and approachable. He earned his undergraduate degree at a liberal arts school (Austin College) before completing a Master of Public Administration (UNT). Those experiences shaped his mind into a rare blend of philosophy and pragmatism. He thinks differently than most—able to reflect deeply on ideas while also commanding numbers, budgets, and analytics with clarity.


Dan & Lewis

This essay reflects the influence of his way of thinking. It was born from our conversations, his insights, and the questions he raises about how we remember the past. While I take responsibility for shaping and editing the writing, the heart of this piece owes so much to him. Dan is more than a co-writer in spirit—he is the spark that brought these ideas to life.

What follows, then, is not just an intellectual exploration. It is also a tribute to the kind of mentoring friendship that spans decades. Together we wrestled with how societies record events (history) and how they preserve meaning (heritage). Out of that dialogue came this essay, which I now offer with both gratitude and humility.


History: Chronos and the Record of Events

History lives in chronos, the measured unfolding of time. It examines cause and effect, documents and data, victories and failures. This approach often feels detached or clinical. A history textbook might describe the Great Depression in terms of unemployment rates and legislative acts, but not the emotions of the families who lived through it.

Yet this precision is valuable. By stripping away bias, history protects against myth and distortion. In the secular world, this means confronting injustices such as slavery, colonial exploitation, or political corruption. In the biblical world, this meant preserving accurate accounts of Israel’s rebellion as well as its faithfulness. As Ecclesiastes reminds us, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). History shows us those seasons with clarity.


Heritage: Kairos and the Power of Memory

Heritage lives in kairos—the meaningful, sacred moments (the aha moment of the prodigal son) that transcend mere sequence. It is less about what happened and more about what still matters. Heritage is the story told at a family table, the song sung on a national holiday, the heirloom preserved with reverence.

For secular society, heritage might mean fireworks on Independence Day, memorial ceremonies at Ground Zero, or festivals that preserve immigrant traditions. These moments are powerful because they stir emotion—pride, grief, gratitude, belonging.

Scripture also emphasizes heritage. God commanded Israel to remember His works not only with words but with rituals and symbols. Joshua set up twelve stones by the Jordan so that when future generations asked, “What do those stones mean to you?” the story of God’s deliverance would be told (Joshua 4:6–7). In the church, Communion is heritage as well as history—“Do this in remembrance of me” (1 Corinthians 11:24).


Individual and Collective Memory

History often surveys nations and systems; heritage lives closer to home. For a historian, immigration may be a set of numbers. For a family, it is a recipe, a language, a story of survival. Both are true, but they speak differently.

Psalm 78 reminds us, “We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord.” Secular society echoes this impulse when it says, “Never forget” after national tragedy. Whether sacred or secular, heritage moves us beyond knowledge to identity.


Risks on Both Sides

Neither history nor heritage is sufficient on its own.

  • History without heritage risks being lifeless. Facts alone rarely inspire sacrifice or unity. A society that only analyzes but never remembers can grow cynical or rootless.
  • Heritage without history risks distortion. Pride and nostalgia can drift into myth, or worse, propaganda. Jesus warned against traditions that obscure truth (Matthew 15:6). In secular life, we see this when heritage clings to symbols without acknowledging the injustices tied to them.

Both truth and meaning are needed.


Chronos and Kairos Together

The ancient categories of time help explain this balance. Chronos is measured, sequential time—where history operates. Kairos is meaningful, appointed time—where heritage thrives. Secular societies and faith communities alike need both.

  • Chronos ensures we know what happened.
  • Kairos ensures we feel why it matters.

Germany’s reckoning with the Holocaust illustrates this balance. History preserved the sterile record—dates, numbers, documents. Heritage shaped memorials, ceremonies, and vows of “Never Again.” Without one, memory would be incomplete.


Bridging for Today

The healthiest societies, whether secular or religious, integrate both.

  • Education should combine historical facts with heritage storytelling, so students not only learn but also connect.
  • Memorials should preserve accurate history while also stirring reverence. A wall engraved with names is history; the silence of those who stand before it is heritage.
  • Families and churches should preserve both genealogies (history) and testimonies (heritage), ensuring truth and meaning pass together from generation to generation.

Reverence as the Key to Balance

Reverence is the posture that unites history and heritage. It is more than respect; it is a deep humility before the weight of memory. Reverence does not strip away facts, but it refuses to treat them as dry data. It does not idolize tradition, but it cherishes it with gratitude.

Reverence is what makes a classroom moment of silence powerful. It is what causes a museum visitor to lower their voice instinctively. It is what compels families to handle an heirloom carefully or churches to guard their sacraments with solemnity. Reverence bridges the gap between head and heart.

Without reverence, history becomes cold, reduced to statistics on a page. Without reverence, heritage becomes sentimentality or even manipulation. But when reverence surrounds both, truth gains depth, and memory gains integrity. Reverence allows us to honor both the accuracy of history and the meaning of heritage without confusing the two.


Case Study: Jericho as History and Heritage

Few places capture the interplay of history and heritage as vividly as Jericho.

History (Chronos)
Archaeologically, Jericho is one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world. Excavations at Tell es-Sultan reveal settlement layers stretching back 10,000 years, including stone fortifications and one of the earliest known towers. Modern historians can date, map, and measure its ancient walls and subsequent occupations by empires ranging from Canaanite to Roman to Islamic. This is history in its most ordered form—facts, chronology, and evidence preserved across millennia.

Heritage (Kairos)
For Jews and Christians, however, Jericho is more than stratigraphy. It is the city where God gave Israel victory, where walls fell not by human strength but by obedience and faith. That story is heritage—retold in sermons, children’s lessons, pilgrimages, and songs. In the New Testament, Jericho also becomes the setting where Zacchaeus climbed the sycamore tree to see Jesus, a moment that has been remembered not just as fact but as a symbol of personal transformation. Heritage makes Jericho alive with meaning long after the stones themselves have crumbled.

Reverence
Reverence ties these together. Visitors lower their voices at Tell es-Sultan, not just because of history, but because of what the site represents. Pilgrims stand in awe before the sycamore tree or ride the cable car up to the Mount of Temptation. Reverence prevents history from being reduced to ruins, and it prevents heritage from slipping into sentimentality. It anchors both truth and memory in humility before something greater.

Governance and Culture Over Time
Jericho also illustrates how governance and culture can change while heritage persists. Over its long history, Jericho has been ruled by Canaanite kings, Israelite tribes, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Muslim caliphates, Crusaders, Ottomans, the British, Jordanians, and now the Palestinian Authority. Its culture shifted accordingly—from Canaanite religion to Israelite worship, Byzantine Christianity, Islamic traditions, and today’s Palestinian Arab identity. Yet through all these changes, Jericho remained a living settlement, famed for its oasis agriculture and symbolic meaning. Its continuity as one of the world’s oldest inhabited cities shows how history records change while heritage preserves significance.

Jericho Today
Modern Jericho is a Palestinian city of about 20,000 people in the West Bank. It is both an archaeological site of global importance—now UNESCO-listed—and a living community with markets, schools, and festivals. It stands as a meeting point of history’s chronos and heritage’s kairos, where the past is carefully studied and yet continually re-experienced.



Conclusion

“History vs. Heritage are two different things.” History is truth-seeking, analytical, rooted in chronos. Heritage is meaning-making, emotional, rooted in kairos. History without heritage becomes detached; heritage without history becomes distorted. Together, they give us memory that is accurate and alive.

For the Christian, this balance echoes God’s call to remember His mighty acts with both truth and love. For the secular world, it reflects the need to learn from facts while also cherishing identity. In both, the lesson is the same: we must carry forward the past with clarity of mind and depth of heart.

Justice at the City Gate: The Bible’s Model for Civic Leadership

Introduction: The City Gate as Civic Heart

In the ancient world, the city gate was more than a stone arch or wooden doors. It was the civic, social, and spiritual heart of the community. Here trade was conducted, disputes were resolved, leaders rendered decisions, and prophets raised their voices. In Ruth 4:1–2, Boaz sealed his redemption of Ruth at the city gate before witnesses. In Jeremiah 17:19–20, the prophet was commanded to proclaim God’s word at the gates of Jerusalem. Kings themselves often received news and judged cases at the gate (2 Samuel 18:24).



The gate symbolized more than access—it symbolized justice, accountability, and leadership. It was the visible intersection of daily life and divine law. To uphold justice at the gate was to keep a city strong; to allow corruption at the gate was to invite decay.

Today, while we no longer gather at fortified gates, our societies still have civic spaces—councils, courts, and public forums—where truth must be spoken and justice upheld. The biblical model offers timeless lessons for leaders and citizens alike.


Biblical Vision of Justice at the Gate

The Old Testament consistently emphasizes the link between justice and the gate:

  • Ruth 4:1–2 — Boaz redeems Ruth at the gate, before the elders. Justice is made public and accountable.
  • Deuteronomy 21:18–21 — Difficult family cases were brought to the elders at the gate. The community upheld standards openly.
  • Proverbs 31:23 — The noble woman’s husband is known at the gates, sitting among respected leaders.
  • Amos 5:12, 15 — The prophet condemns those who oppress the poor and take bribes at the gate, calling instead to “Hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts.”

Justice at the gate was not abstract philosophy. It was visible, daily, and local. It ensured that decisions were made before witnesses, that leaders were accountable to their people, and that God’s law was upheld in plain sight.


Historical Parallels: Public Squares Through the Ages

The civic gate in Israel parallels many other traditions:

  • Greek Agora & Areopagus: Open-air marketplaces where trade mingled with debate. At the Areopagus in Athens (Acts 17), Paul proclaimed the gospel, demonstrating how truth entered the civic square.
  • Roman Forum: A bustling center of speeches, trials, and decrees—visible governance rather than hidden chambers.
  • Medieval Town Halls: Citizens gathered in open assemblies to make decisions and hold rulers accountable.
  • American Town Halls: Early New England communities continued this biblical pattern of public, local, accountable governance.

Each of these models affirms the principle: justice thrives in the open and fails when hidden.



Christian and Conservative Reflections

Theologically, justice at the gate reflects God’s character. He is righteous, impartial, and merciful. Leaders are stewards of His justice, accountable to Him as much as to their people.

From a conservative viewpoint, the gate represents subsidiarity—the principle that decisions should be made at the lowest competent level, closest to the people affected. Local responsibility preserves accountability and resists the overreach of distant power. Just as the gate kept decisions grounded in daily life, so too should modern governance empower local families, churches, and councils.

When leadership drifts from the gate—when decisions are hidden in bureaucracies or swayed by special interests—the vulnerable suffer first. The widow, the orphan, and the foreigner—so often named in Scripture—lose their advocates. To restore justice at the gate is to restore confidence in society itself.


Modern “City Gates”

What are the equivalents today?

  • City Councils and Courthouses: Our literal gates where ordinances, budgets, and verdicts shape daily life. Citizens must engage, not retreat, if justice is to remain upright.
  • Media Platforms: Though virtual, they shape public thought. Like the gates of old, they are places of influence, yet vulnerable to manipulation.
  • Churches and Families: The first gates of moral formation. If these falter, corruption soon seeps into public life.

The prophets’ words echo still: “Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!” (Amos 5:24).


Responsibilities of Leaders and Citizens

  • For Leaders: Uphold impartiality, refuse bribery, defend the weak, and ensure decisions are made openly. Insist on civility – more than demonstration – a change in the heart.
  • For Citizens: Engage the gate. Speak truth, vote responsibly, serve in local roles, and refuse cynicism. Accept the call to genuine civility. Silence allows injustice to thrive.

Like Paul in Athens, Christians must enter the gate—whether physical council chambers or digital platforms—with both courage and humility, speaking truth in love but refusing compromise with corruption.


Reflection Questions

  1. What are the “gates” in your community where justice is shaped?
  2. Do you see signs of accountability or corruption at these gates?
  3. How can you and your family engage more intentionally at these civic gates?
  4. In what ways does your church help form values that influence public life?
  5. How can local governance reflect both biblical justice and conservative principles of accountability and subsidiarity?

Conclusion: Restoring Justice at the Gate

The city gate was never just architecture. It was the place where truth was tested, justice was upheld, and leaders proved their worth. When justice ruled there, the city flourished. When injustice crept in, prophets cried out, and judgment soon followed.

Our communities today need leaders who will guard the gates with integrity—and citizens who will not abandon their responsibility to watch, question, and participate. Justice at the gate is justice in the light, where truth cannot hide and power must answer to principle.

If nations are to endure, their gates must once again be strong. For it is at the gate, before the people and before God, that societies reveal their true character.

The Weight of Words: When Speech Shapes Destiny

Introduction

From the opening chapters of Scripture, words hold power. God spoke creation into being: “And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light” (Genesis 1:3). The entire cosmos came into existence not by hammer or flame, but by a word. That same pattern continues throughout the biblical story—words bless, words curse, words bind, words heal.

Proverbs teaches: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21). James calls the tongue “a restless evil, full of deadly poison” (James 3:8). Jesus warned, “By your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned” (Matthew 12:37). In short, words are never neutral. They carry eternal weight.

In our age of microphones, cameras, podcasts, and viral clips, words travel faster and linger longer than at any point in history. The responsibility to use them wisely has never been greater.



Words in Scripture: Creation, Covenant, and Consequence

The Bible presents a consistent theology of speech:

  • Creation: God’s voice orders chaos into cosmos. His Word is life.
  • Covenant: God binds His people through words—promises, commands, blessings. At Sinai, the Ten Commandments were not just laws but rather the terms of a covenant relationship.
  • Consequence: Misuse of words brings judgment. The serpent’s lie in Eden unleashed sin. The Tower of Babel scattered humanity through the confusion of language. James compares the tongue to a spark that can ignite a forest fire.

Speech reveals the heart. What we say cannot be detached from who we are. When Christians speak, we bear witness—either faithfully or unfaithfully—to the One whose Word is truth.


The Double-Edged Sword of Rhetoric

Speech directs thought, shapes culture, and determines destiny.

Examples of Life-Giving Speech:

  • Winston Churchill’s wartime speeches gave hope when Britain stood alone against Nazi aggression.
  • Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech elevated America’s conscience and called a nation to live up to its founding ideals.
  • Ronald Reagan’s speeches framed freedom as a moral calling and helped inspire the end of the Cold War.

Examples of Destructive Speech:

  • Adolf Hitler rose to power not through military might but through rhetoric that stirred resentment, fear, and blind loyalty.
  • Communist regimes perfected propaganda—lies repeated until they reshaped whole nations.
  • Today, misinformation spreads across the internet, dividing families, communities, and even churches.

Speech is a double-edged sword. It can build a nation or tear it apart. It can lead souls to God or away from Him.


The Christian Call to Speech

Christians are not free to use words carelessly. Paul exhorts believers: “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” (Colossians 4:6).

Key principles for Christian speech:

  • Truth: Our words must align with God’s Word, not with convenience or fear.
  • Grace: Even when confronting error, speech should aim to restore, not merely to win.
  • Courage: Silence in the face of evil can be as destructive as outright lies.
  • Order: Freedom of speech is a gift that requires responsibility. Christian liberty does not mean license to slander or manipulate.

The Political Call to Responsible Speech

Healthy republics depend on honest, principled speech just as the church depends on truthful proclamation. In a democracy, rhetoric is the bloodstream of self-government. Campaigns, debates, editorials, and legislative arguments all shape the direction of policy and the trust of citizens.

  • Honesty: Political speech should inform rather than manipulate. Without truth, public trust erodes.
  • Civility: Sharp disagreement is necessary in free societies, but respect must remain.
  • Accountability: Leaders must remember that promises are words, and broken promises corrode confidence in institutions.
  • Restraint: Free speech must be exercised with discipline—slander, exaggeration, and reckless accusations undermine liberty rather than protect it.

From a conservative perspective, the Founders understood this well. They enshrined free speech in the First Amendment not to encourage recklessness but to secure a space for truth, conscience, and accountability. The survival of liberty rests not only on what is said but how it is said.


Words in the Digital Square and the Areopagus

Today’s digital world multiplies the reach of speech. Tweets, podcasts, YouTube clips, and live streams have become the new “public square.” In biblical terms, it resembles the Areopagus of Athens—an open forum where thinkers, philosophers, and ordinary citizens gathered to debate ideas (see Acts 17:19–34).

When Paul stood at the Areopagus, he neither shrank back nor spoke recklessly. He engaged respectfully, quoting poets familiar to his audience, yet clearly proclaiming Christ as Lord. His model is instructive: engage culture on its own turf, but always direct the conversation back to truth.

Our digital Areopagus is chaotic—full of noise, competing voices, and sometimes hostility. Yet it remains a place where destinies are shaped daily by words. Christians and conservatives are called not to abandon it, but to enter it with wisdom, clarity, and courage.


Charlie Kirk and the Modern Rhetorical Arena

Figures like Charlie Kirk illustrate how modern rhetoric shapes culture. On college campuses, Kirk asks pointed questions that expose contradictions in progressive ideologies. His method—firm, articulate, unapologetic—shows the importance of confidence in public dialogue.

Yet his approach also raises questions. Strong rhetoric can embolden the like-minded but risk alienating opponents. The balance between conviction and persuasion, boldness and bridge-building, remains a challenge for all Christians engaging in public debate.

Kirk represents a broader principle: in a fragmented age, those willing to speak clearly and consistently often shape the direction of conversation. Silence cedes the field to others.


Reflection Questions

  1. Which words spoken to you—encouragements or criticisms—still shape your identity today?
  2. How do you test whether your speech reflects truth, grace, and responsibility?
  3. How can you use social media or digital platforms to build others up rather than tear them down?
  4. What examples of courageous, life-giving speech inspire you? How can you model them in your family, church, or community?
  5. Where are you tempted to remain silent when words of truth are most needed?
  6. In political conversations, do your words clarify truth and invite reasoned debate, or do they simply mimic the noise of partisanship?

Conclusion

Words are never weightless. They carry the power to create or destroy, to build up or to break down, to bless or to curse. Scripture reminds us that every careless word will be judged (Matthew 12:36). History testifies that nations rise and fall on the power of words. And our own lives bear the marks of things spoken long ago.

For Christians, the calling is to speak words of truth and grace that reflect Christ. For citizens, the calling is to speak responsibly, with honesty and civility, guarding the republic from the corruption of careless speech. In both spheres, the weight of words shapes destiny.

In a world drowning in noise, the faithful word—grounded in Scripture, shaped by love, disciplined by truth, and spoken with courage—can still change hearts and nations.



A Collaborative Plea: Churchill, King, and Reagan

Winston Churchill might thunder:
“In every age, civilization itself has hung upon the slender thread of speech. Words have been our armor and our rallying cry in the darkest hours. Let us, then, wield them with courage and precision—not as reckless shouts in the void, but as clarion calls to defend truth, freedom, and human dignity.”

Martin Luther King would then lift the vision higher:
“Yet words must be more than weapons. They must be instruments of justice and of love. A people divided by careless tongues cannot stand, but a people united by righteous speech can march together toward the Promised Land. Let us speak not only to win arguments but to awaken conscience, to stir compassion, to bend that long arc of the moral universe toward justice.”

Ronald Reagan would seal the appeal with hope:
“And let us never forget that words can light a candle in the darkest night. When spoken with faith and fidelity, they remind us that freedom is not fragile but enduring, because it rests upon truth. Let us speak in such a way that future generations say: here were men and women who did not waste their words, but used them to call a people back to God, back to courage, and back to hope.”


Closing Thought

Together, their voices would remind us: the weight of words is real. Spoken in fear, they can enslave. Spoken in truth and love, they can set a people free.

LFM Note: Even if I forgot to include. All of my posts of 2025 and beyond are collaborations between LFM and AI. While I am at it, please go to http://www.citybaseblog.net to see all of my posts in recent years.

The Digital Babel Consideration

Introduction: The First Babel

In Genesis 11, after the flood, humanity gathered with one purpose. They said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over the face of the whole earth.” The Tower of Babel was more than stone—it was a symbol of human pride, a declaration of independence from God. In their unity, people sought security, identity, and glory apart from Him.



God’s response was measured and purposeful. Rather than destroy, He confused their language, (the source for our words like “babbling”) scattering them across the earth. His judgment was both a limit and a mercy. By dividing their speech, He prevented prideful ambition from becoming oppressive tyranny. The lesson of Babel is that human invention, when unmoored from God’s order, leads not to flourishing but to fragmentation.

Today, our “digital towers” look different. Instead of bricks, we use pixels. Instead of mortar, we use code. The internet, social media, and artificial intelligence represent extraordinary tools—capable of blessing families, spreading truth, and even carrying the gospel to the ends of the earth. Yet, like Babel, these same tools can be bent toward pride and self-exaltation. The challenge is not to reject technology, but to constrain it within God’s design for community, truth, and order.


The Promise of Technology

Before we critique, we must acknowledge the good. Technology has reunited families across oceans, put Scripture into nearly every language, and given churches the ability to reach far beyond their walls. Missionaries use smartphones for translation. Isolated believers stream services in real time. Local leaders connect with constituents directly.

From a conservative standpoint, technology also reflects innovation and opportunity—values that can strengthen free societies. Properly directed, it allows enterprise and creativity to flourish, lifting people from poverty, broadening access to education, and advancing liberty. Christians, too, have reason to be thankful: the Great Commission now travels on fiber optic cables as surely as on sailing ships.


The Reality of Fragmentation

Yet blessings come with limits. Just as God restrained Babel to protect humanity, we too must set boundaries when technology divides more than it unites. Algorithms curate news feeds that isolate rather than connect. Political rhetoric grows harsher as groups live in separate “realities.” Even in the church, online preachers and influencers sometimes foster theological silos that erode shared biblical grammar.

The danger is not that technology is evil, but that it is not neutral. Left unchecked, it bends toward division. Like fire, it can warm a home or burn it down.


Biblical Parallels and Guidance

The Babel story warns us that scattering apart from God leads to confusion. Pentecost shows the opposite: the Spirit uniting diverse tongues to proclaim one gospel. Together, they reveal this principle—unity is only life-giving when grounded in God’s truth.

For Christians and conservatives, this principle means:

  • We respect the limits of human invention rather than assuming all progress is good.
  • We strengthen enduring institutions—family, church, and local community—that anchor us against digital drift.
  • We guard free speech and diverse voices while also calling for moral responsibility in how those voices are used.

Building a Shared Story in a Digital Age

To redeem technology, we must actively channel it toward what is true, good, and life-giving:

  • Scripture as shared language: God’s Word must remain the foundation, not one voice among many, but the truth by which all other voices are measured.
  • Embodied community: Online fellowship is valuable, but it can never replace face-to-face worship, service, and local engagement.
  • Discernment training: Parents, pastors, and teachers must equip the next generation to see through manipulation, resist division, and pursue truth.
  • Narrative stewardship: The church must retell the gospel as a grand story—creation, fall, redemption, restoration—stronger than any digital narrative.

Reflection Questions

  1. What examples in your own life show technology at its best—connecting, informing, or blessing?
  2. When have you noticed digital feeds pulling you away from truth or shared community?
  3. How can Christians today serve as “interpreters,” helping bridge the fractured dialects of our digital world?
  4. What practices—Scripture reading, fellowship, civic service—help you stay rooted in reality while engaging the digital age?

Conclusion

The Tower of Babel warns us that human pride unchecked leads to confusion. The digital Babel of our own day brings both promise and peril. Technology can serve families, churches, and civic life when rightly constrained—but without God’s order, it fragments into endless dialects of meaning.

The Christian task is not retreat but redemption. Like fire, technology must be kept within the hearth if it is to bring warmth. By grounding our digital lives in Scripture, community, and truth, we can resist Babel’s scattering and instead model Pentecost’s gathering: many voices, one Spirit, one story.


More on the Babel Story

The biblical account is found in Genesis 11:1–9. It emphasizes the confusion of languages and the scattering of peoples rather than the physical collapse of the tower. Later Jewish traditions describe fire, wind, or earthquake striking it, while some say only part was destroyed. Christian interpreters often saw the “fall” of Babel as spiritual pride, not literal rubble. The Qur’an does not tell the Babel story directly but contains echoes in Pharaoh’s tower-building arrogance (Surah 28:38, 40:36–37).

Historically, many scholars connect Babel with the ziggurat of Babylon known as Etemenanki (“House of the Foundation of Heaven and Earth”), a massive, stepped temple likely standing hundreds of feet tall. Ruins of Babylon near modern Hillah, Iraq, still contain remnants of such structures, though none can be definitively identified as “the” Tower of Babel.

The Heart and Soul of a Street Preacher

Linda and I were fortunate enough to assist French Teacher Diana Thelen take up to 106 Christian students, teachers and administrators to the UK and Europe over a 10-year period around the turn of this century. On one of our trips to London, we ended up at Picadilly Circus. If you haven’t been there, think Times Square in NYC. Busy. Flashy and memory-making.

At a distance, I could hear and see a street preacher. I remember him more clearly than anything else. While I can’t remember his exact words, his enthusiasm was heard and felt. More people walked past him than paused to listen. I thought to myself how they perhaps caught a word or phrase that stuck with them.

In our Bible Study group, as I’ve wrote a few days ago, we are delving into the Book of Acts. It is fascinating to read about Peter and Paul as they are at their very first steps of street preaching. You can easily feel their lightheadedness as they rise from a sitting position to share Gospel. Christ came to show us the way, died for our sins and then rose to join His Heavenly Father. Believe in Him, and you will have everlasting life.

So, based on these two images, today’s essay is again a collaboration between AI and me. LFM

Introduction

I am a street preacher. Some people admire me; others dismiss me as a nuisance. But my voice, my presence, and my message come from a place deeper than opinion—it is a calling from God. Behind every word I speak in the open air lies a journey of conviction, struggle, and faith, one that connects me to prophets, apostles, and countless heralds before me.


My Calling

I did not choose this work for comfort or convenience. The Lord placed His word in my heart, and it burns there like fire in my bones. I cannot hold it in. He has called me to the streets to speak of His Son, not because I am worthy, but because He chose me for this task before I was born (Jeremiah 1:5).

I go where the people are—bus stops, markets, sidewalks—because I am commanded to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. I cannot wait for them to come to me. Life is short, eternity is real, and the message is urgent. My heart breaks for the lost, and I carry their burden as my own.


My Motivation

I obey because He commands it, even when obedience costs me my comfort, reputation, or safety. I preach because love compels me—not love in word only, but the kind that risks rejection to rescue a soul. I stand in public where all can see, because even those who will not listen must be reminded that there is truth beyond the noise of life. My life is not my own. My time, my voice, and my reputation belong to Christ.


My Struggles

This calling comes with a cost. I have walked alone more than I can say. Many brothers and sisters in Christ do not understand my methods, and so the fellowship is sometimes thin. I have been mocked, cursed, and shoved. I have fought the temptation to answer in anger, and I have prayed for my heart to stay soft toward those who hate me.

The battles are not just outside—they rage in my mind. The enemy whispers that my words are wasted, that I am doing more harm than good. There are days when my body aches from standing, my voice strains from speaking, and my heart feels empty from pouring out. Yet I rise again, because the message is not mine to withhold.



A Day in My Life

I rise before the sun, my first thoughts turning to prayer. I open the Scriptures, looking for the day’s anchor—a word from God to carry into the streets.

I gather my tools: a small speaker, gospel tracts, a wooden cross, water, and a sign that says, Christ Died for the Ungodly. I know the weather may turn, but rain is no excuse to be silent.

At the bus terminal, I raise my voice above the hum of engines and footsteps. Most pass me by, but one man lingers, sharing the pain of his dying brother. We pray together, the noise of the city around us.

Later, teenagers jeer and throw trash. My flesh wants to snap back, but I remember my Lord’s example. I answer with gentleness and keep speaking.

Alone on a bench at midday, I fight the thought that nothing I do matters. I remind myself that I plant and water, but God gives the growth.

In the afternoon, a young man on a bike remembers what I said last week and confides his guilt over past sins. We talk. Seeds are planted.

By evening, I am weary, but I deliver one final message in a plaza. Someone watches from across the street for several minutes before disappearing into the crowd. I do not know if I will see him again, but I leave with hope.


My Place in History

I do not stand alone. I walk a path worn by those who came before me:

  • Noah, a preacher of righteousness.
  • Jeremiah, proclaiming truth at the temple gate.
  • Jonah, warning Nineveh in the streets.
  • John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness.
  • Jesus, preaching from hillsides, seashores, and city streets.
  • Peter, speaking to thousands in Jerusalem.
  • Paul, reasoning daily in marketplaces.

I share in the legacy of Francis of Assisi, the Lollards, Martin Luther, George Fox, Whitefield, Wesley, and countless others who took the gospel beyond the church walls. Their voices still echo through time, and mine is but one more in the same song.


My Creed

I am called, not by man, but by the voice of the Living God.
Before I was formed in the womb, He knew me; before I was born, He set me apart. My commission is not a career but a cross, not a choice of convenience but a mandate of obedience.

I will proclaim the truth in the open air,
as the prophets did in the gates of the city,
as John cried in the wilderness,
as Christ preached on hillsides and by the sea,
as the apostles spoke in marketplaces and in the streets.

I will not measure my work by the size of the crowd,
the applause of men,
or the absence of scorn.
I will measure it only by my faithfulness to the message entrusted to me.

I will endure the loneliness of this calling
knowing my Lord was despised and rejected,
a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.
When they mock me, they mock Him;
when they reject me, they reject the One who sent me.

I will guard my heart from pride,
remembering I am a beggar showing other beggars where to find bread.
The power is not in my voice, my skill, or my presence—
but in the Gospel, which is the power of God unto salvation.

I will love those before me, even if they hate me.
My words may wound, but only as the surgeon’s knife wounds to heal.
I will remember that every face I see is a soul that will one day stand before God.

I will not be silenced by fear, fatigue, or failure.
The enemy may bruise me with insults,
the law may restrain me with fines,
the weather may beat me with rain—
but I will rise again, for the message is not mine to withhold.

I will pray before I speak, and after I speak.
For without prayer, my words are wind.
But with prayer, the Spirit may carry a single sentence into the heart
and awaken the dead to life.

I stand in the tradition of the faithful—
from Noah to Paul, from Francis to Wesley, from Whitefield to nameless saints whose voices echoed through streets and alleys the world forgot.
Their reward was never here, and neither shall mine be.

And when my voice is silenced at last,
may it be said that I spent my final breath in obedience to the One who called me—
not as a celebrity, not as a scholar,
but simply as a herald, crying in the streets:
“Be reconciled to God.”


Conclusion

This is my life, my labor, and my love. I know the cost. I have felt the loneliness. But I also know the One who walks beside me, and His presence is worth more than the approval of the world.

So tomorrow, and the day after, I will take my place again in the streets. Not for applause. Not for recognition. But for obedience—and for the hope that even one will hear and live.

The Work That Holds Us Together

🛠️ The Work That Holds Us Together

I was raised in a blue-collar family. It is the best thing that ever happened to me. My dad was a very hard worker. He was a mechanic (an electro-plater) at Braniff and then would work on cars many nights after he got home. He had calloused hands with grease that never completely disappeared no matter how hard he scrubbed.

I started working as a paper boy at the age of 13-ish. From the paper route, I eventually worked at Holiday Cleaners due to a friendship with the manager I talked to many days on my route. I even chose to get out of school at noon during my senior year to work there on a work program for some who did not plan to go to college. On my paper route, one of my customers asked me to come to work as an office boy at Glidden Paint Company.

I eventually got promoted to be a paint maker in the plant on the night shift. Later, I became the assistant purchasing agent. I did start college during this time but lost a year when I joined the Texas Air National Guard and became a “weekend warrior.” After Linda graduated from UNT and started teaching, I quit to complete my last two years of college. She also had worked non-stop from her younger years until she retired.

I’ve often said that I may not be the smartest person in the world, but I can outwork just about anyone. Like with many in this world, I find sheer enjoyment in working. To create something, to process something, to feel the satisfaction for a job well done is a reward alone.

So, Labor Day is a meaningful holiday for me. This is my salute. AI helped with some history. LFM


I. Labor Day’s Hidden Roots

Labor Day began not as a vacation but a declaration: Workers matter. The earliest advocates didn’t ask for applause—they asked for justice. The 19th-century labor movement arose in a crucible of exploitation: 14-hour workdays, unsafe mills, child labor, and wages that barely fed a family.

In 1882, 10,000 workers in New York marched—not to protest a war, but to demand dignity in the workplace. It wasn’t until the violent Pullman Strike in 1894, when workers shut down rail traffic across the nation and faced federal troops, that Congress finally acted, making Labor Day a national holiday.

But the meaning of the day has always gone deeper than rest. It has been a cry from the ground: Do you see us?


II. The Divine Rhythm of Work and Rest

Long before factories, strikes, and unions, God ordained labor. The first command given to humanity was to “work the ground and keep it” (Genesis 2:15). Work was not a punishment—it was a partnership. Adam and Eve were not idle in Eden; they were cultivators.

But even in paradise, there was a rhythm: six days of work, one of rest. God Himself rested—not out of exhaustion, but to show us how sacred rest is.

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” — Mark 2:27

Work is dignified, but so is stopping. Rest is not laziness; it’s an act of faith. It says: I am not God. The world does not depend on my endless output.


III. The Laborers Jesus Saw

Throughout His ministry, Jesus moved among the working class. He did not call religious elites to be His disciples—He called fishermen. He Himself was a carpenter for most of His earthly life. When He told parables, He spoke of vineyard workers, shepherds, sowers, and servants.

And when He spoke to the weary, it was as a worker speaking to workers:

“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

His kingdom values did not mirror the marketplace. The first were last. The widow’s mite outweighed the rich man’s gift. The one who serves is greatest of all.

What would it mean to bring that vision into our economy today?



IV. The Unfinished Work of Labor Justice

Too often, our systems still devalue the laborer. Some work until their bodies collapse. Others labor invisibly—caring for children, cleaning buildings, stocking shelves—without benefits, praise, or power.

Even in church spaces, we sometimes glorify “calling” only in terms of ministry or leadership. But the Bible does not separate the sacred and the secular that way. Paul writes:

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” — Colossians 3:23

Whether one teaches, welds, drives, prays, or sweeps, it all becomes holy when done with faithfulness.

But faithfulness does not mean accepting injustice. It means confronting it. Like the prophets, we must cry out when wages are withheld (James 5:4), when sabbaths are ignored (Exodus 20:10), when workers are crushed under greed (Amos 8:4–6).


V. Labor Day as Worship

What if Labor Day were not just a long weekend, but an altar? A day to honor those who build bridges, bandage wounds, answer phones, hammer nails, code websites, change diapers, and sweep floors.

What if we lifted up the invisible hands behind visible life?

What if we slowed down enough to give thanks—not just with words, but with wages, policies, and prayers?

What if we remembered that God Himself worked—and called it good?


🕊️ Final Reflection: A Poem for Labor Day

The Hands That Hold the World

Not just the stars or thrones endure,
But hands that scrape, and sew, and cure.
The ones who kneel to fix the gears,
Who mop the floors, who calm the fears.

The mother rocking past her shift,
The courier through rain and drift.
The silent saint behind the glass,
Who rings up joy as hours pass.

The teacher grading after dark,
The welder throwing up a spark.
The unseen hands, the whispered grace,
That hold the world in every place.

So bless the calloused, wrinkled, worn—
The laborers both praised and torn.
For in their work, a truth is shown:
No kingdom stands by kings alone.

And may we build, with justice wide,
A world where labor walks with pride.
Where rest is sacred, wages fair—
And every worker knows we care.

Labor Day, 2025

Thoughts, Prayers, and Action: A Christian Response to Tragedy

Please Lord, watch over our community, especially our children.

When tragedy strikes—whether in a school, a church, or on the streets of our cities—Christians instinctively turn to prayer. We believe that God hears the cries of His people, and that no tear shed, no anguished word whispered in prayer is wasted. Yet in moments like the recent killings in Minneapolis, many voices rise in frustration, declaring, “thoughts and prayers are not enough.”

As a follower of Christ, I must confess that this critique deserves a hearing. If by “thoughts and prayers” we mean little more than polite condolences, quickly offered and soon forgotten, then indeed they are not enough. Scripture never intended prayer to be a substitute for action. James writes plainly: “Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?” (James 2:15–16). Prayer without action is incomplete; faith without works is dead.


The True Role of Prayer

Prayer is not meant to end our response; it is meant to begin it. Prayer is the act of bringing unbearable sorrow before the throne of God, confessing our weakness, and seeking divine strength. It is through prayer that we discern God’s heart for justice, compassion, and peace. It is through prayer that we ask for courage to move beyond words and into deeds.

Far from being empty, prayer acknowledges that human wisdom and political effort alone cannot heal the deepest wounds of the human heart. Prayer points us to the One who alone can turn hatred into love, despair into hope, violence into reconciliation. But if prayer never moves us to concrete acts of mercy and justice, then we have misunderstood its purpose.


Please Lord, Change the hearts of evil.

What Christians Ask for in Prayer After a Massacre

When we say we are praying for the families, school workers, and community after the massacre of children, we are not merely repeating empty phrases. We are interceding with specific and urgent pleas before God:

  • For the families of the children: that God would surround them with His comfort, the “peace that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7), when their world has collapsed. That He would give them strength to face the unthinkable days ahead—funerals, empty bedrooms, and grief that threatens to crush their very breath.
  • For the school workers and first responders: that God would bind up the trauma they carry in their bodies and minds after witnessing scenes that will never leave them. That He would guard them against despair, give them counselors and companions, and remind them that their labor to protect children is not in vain.
  • For the community: that God would heal the very soil of the city, that fear will not take root, that division and blame will not destroy neighbors, and that leaders would rise up who work for reconciliation and renewal. That the church would be a beacon of hope, providing food for the grieving, arms for the weary, and truth for the confused.

Prayer in such a moment is not resignation—it is petition. It is crying out to the Lord of heaven and earth to move in ways we cannot. It is asking Him to step into unbearable suffering and carry those who cannot walk.


What Can Be Done to Prevent Such Tragedies?

Christians must also look upstream: what can be done to prevent massacres like this from happening at all? While we cannot erase the reality of evil in a fallen world, there are faithful steps we can take:

  • Spiritual formation and discipleship: Our homes, churches, and schools must raise children in love, teaching them to value life, to resolve conflict with peace, and to find their worth in God rather than in violence or power.
  • Stronger communities: When young people are isolated, wounded, or neglected, seeds of destruction can grow. The church can invest in mentoring, after-school care, youth ministries, and safe spaces where children and families are supported.
  • Care for mental health: Christians can advocate for accessible counseling and trauma care, remembering that Jesus Himself ministered to the brokenhearted.
  • Moral courage in public life: We can encourage policies that protect human life and limit access to instruments of mass violence, while still affirming human dignity and responsibility.
  • Peacemaking witness: In a culture saturated with anger and division, Christians can model reconciliation—speaking truth with grace, rejecting hatred, and showing the world that the way of Christ is the way of peace.

No set of actions will completely eradicate violence. Yet, by God’s grace, we can restrain evil, cultivate peace, and create communities where tragedies are less likely to erupt.


Responding to the Critique

So when someone says, “thoughts and prayers are not enough,” my Christian response is not to be defensive but to agree in part. They are right: prayer is not enough if it remains mere sentiment. But they are also missing the deeper truth: prayer is more than words—it is the lifeblood of action. Without it, we risk striving in our own strength, detached from God’s wisdom and power.

As Christians, we should embrace both sides: authentic prayer that intercedes for the grieving and the broken, and faithful action that works for justice and peace. Prayer without action is hypocrisy, but action without prayer is arrogance. The world needs both.


A Prayer for the Families, School, and Community

Heavenly Father, our hearts are broken before You. Children have been taken in violence, and we struggle to even breathe under the weight of this loss. Lord, we lift up the families whose lives are torn apart. Hold them in Your arms as a mother holds her child. Give them strength to face the hours ahead and hope to believe that life is still worth living. Surround them with friends who will not leave, with churches that will not abandon, with a peace that does not vanish when the tears come at night.

We pray for the teachers, the school staff, and the first responders who saw the unthinkable. Lord, heal their minds, protect them from despair, and let their courage not be forgotten. Wrap them in Your love and remind them that their work is holy in Your sight.

We pray for the community of Minneapolis. Drive out fear, drive out division, and plant seeds of healing where the soil feels barren. Raise up leaders who will stand for peace and neighbors who will look after one another. May the church rise to its calling: to comfort the hurting, to weep with those who weep, and to shine the light of Christ in the darkest of nights.

And Lord, we pray not only for healing but for prevention. Teach us as a nation to value life as You value it. Lead us to build homes where love is strong, schools where children are safe, communities where the lonely are not abandoned. Show us how to break cycles of violence and how to offer young people hope before despair hardens into destruction.

Come, Lord Jesus. Heal our land. Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. May Your kingdom come, and Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, we pray. Amen.Thoughts, Prayers, and Action: A Christian Response to Tragedy

When tragedy strikes—whether in a school, a church, or on the streets of our cities—Christians instinctively turn to prayer. We believe that God hears the cries of His people, and that no tear shed, no anguished word whispered in prayer is wasted. Yet in moments like the recent killings in Minneapolis, many voices rise in frustration, declaring, “thoughts and prayers are not enough.”

As a follower of Christ, I must confess that this critique deserves a hearing. If by “thoughts and prayers” we mean little more than polite condolences, quickly offered and soon forgotten, then indeed they are not enough. Scripture never intended prayer to be a substitute for action. James writes plainly: “Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?” (James 2:15–16). Prayer without action is incomplete; faith without works is dead.


The True Role of Prayer

Prayer is not meant to end our response; it is meant to begin it. Prayer is the act of bringing unbearable sorrow before the throne of God, confessing our weakness, and seeking divine strength. It is through prayer that we discern God’s heart for justice, compassion, and peace. It is through prayer that we ask for courage to move beyond words and into deeds.

Far from being empty, prayer acknowledges that human wisdom and political effort alone cannot heal the deepest wounds of the human heart. Prayer points us to the One who alone can turn hatred into love, despair into hope, violence into reconciliation. But if prayer never moves us to concrete acts of mercy and justice, then we have misunderstood its purpose.


What Christians Ask for in Prayer After a Massacre

When we say we are praying for the families, school workers, and community after the massacre of children, we are not merely repeating empty phrases. We are interceding with specific and urgent pleas before God:

  • For the families of the children: that God would surround them with His comfort, the “peace that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7), when their world has collapsed. That He would give them strength to face the unthinkable days ahead—funerals, empty bedrooms, and grief that threatens to crush their very breath.
  • For the school workers and first responders: that God would bind up the trauma they carry in their bodies and minds after witnessing scenes that will never leave them. That He would guard them against despair, give them counselors and companions, and remind them that their labor to protect children is not in vain.
  • For the community: that God would heal the very soil of the city, that fear will not take root, that division and blame will not destroy neighbors, and that leaders would rise up who work for reconciliation and renewal. That the church would be a beacon of hope, providing food for the grieving, arms for the weary, and truth for the confused.

Prayer in such a moment is not resignation—it is petition. It is crying out to the Lord of heaven and earth to move in ways we cannot. It is asking Him to step into unbearable suffering and carry those who cannot walk.


“Here I am, Lord, send me!” Isaiah 6:8

What Can Be Done to Prevent Such Tragedies?

Christians must also look upstream: what can be done to prevent massacres like this from happening at all? While we cannot erase the reality of evil in a fallen world, there are faithful steps we can take:

  • Spiritual formation and discipleship: Our homes, churches, and schools must raise children in love, teaching them to value life, to resolve conflict with peace, and to find their worth in God rather than in violence or power.
  • Stronger communities: When young people are isolated, wounded, or neglected, seeds of destruction can grow. The church can invest in mentoring, after-school care, youth ministries, and safe spaces where children and families are supported.
  • Care for mental health: Christians can advocate for accessible counseling and trauma care, remembering that Jesus Himself ministered to the brokenhearted.
  • Moral courage in public life: We can encourage policies that protect human life and limit access to instruments of mass violence, while still affirming human dignity and responsibility.
  • Peacemaking witness: In a culture saturated with anger and division, Christians can model reconciliation—speaking truth with grace, rejecting hatred, and showing the world that the way of Christ is the way of peace.

No set of actions will completely eradicate violence. Yet, by God’s grace, we can restrain evil, cultivate peace, and create communities where tragedies are less likely to erupt.


Responding to the Critique

So when someone says, “thoughts and prayers are not enough,” my Christian response is not to be defensive but to agree in part. They are right: prayer is not enough if it remains mere sentiment. But they are also missing the deeper truth: prayer is more than words—it is the lifeblood of action. Without it, we risk striving in our own strength, detached from God’s wisdom and power.

As Christians, we should embrace both sides: authentic prayer that intercedes for the grieving and the broken, and faithful action that works for justice and peace. Prayer without action is hypocrisy, but action without prayer is arrogance. The world needs both.


A Prayer for the Families, School, and Community

Heavenly Father, our hearts are broken before You. Children have been taken in violence, and we struggle to even breathe under the weight of this loss. Lord, we lift up the families whose lives are torn apart. Hold them in Your arms as a mother holds her child. Give them strength to face the hours ahead and hope to believe that life is still worth living. Surround them with friends who will not leave, with churches that will not abandon, with a peace that does not vanish when the tears come at night.

We pray for the teachers, the school staff, and the first responders who saw the unthinkable. Lord, heal their minds, protect them from despair, and let their courage not be forgotten. Wrap them in Your love and remind them that their work is holy in Your sight.

We pray for the community of Minneapolis. Drive out fear, drive out division, and plant seeds of healing where the soil feels barren. Raise up leaders who will stand for peace and neighbors who will look after one another. May the church rise to its calling: to comfort the hurting, to weep with those who weep, and to shine the light of Christ in the darkest of nights.

And Lord, we pray not only for healing but for prevention. Teach us as a nation to value life as You value it. Lead us to build homes where love is strong, schools where children are safe, communities where the lonely are not abandoned. Show us how to break cycles of violence and how to offer young people hope before despair hardens into destruction.

Come, Lord Jesus. Heal our land. Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. May Your kingdom come, and Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

In the name of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, we pray. Amen.