This coming Sunday is exciting for me. Dr. Ananthi Jebasingh will be joining us at Grace Resurrection. She is the founder and director of the Friends of the Good Samaritan School in New Delhi, India. In 2024, I traveled to the school, and that experience changed me in ways I am still discovering. It is a place where the Holy Spirit clearly dwells.

There are moments in life when you know something has happened before you are even ready to acknowledge it. Somewhere between Kentucky and New Delhi, I knew that was happening.

I left America with a ministry I had begun to struggle to relate to. I came home knowing I would never look at ministry the same way again.

The years surrounding the pandemic and the implosion of the United Methodist Church had taken a toll. Friends drifted away. Relationships changed. Some told me I had changed. We all had a story.

Ironically, our church was thriving. We were growing, had a strong budget, amazing worship, and a major sanctuary project underway. I was casting vision and dreaming about expanding from two campuses to three. Things looked great on paper.

But internally, I was struggling.

I had begun taking shortcuts I never thought I would take. I was choosing which battles to fight and keeping people in leadership because I wanted my vision to succeed. I was becoming more concerned with protecting the ministry than confronting the things that were hurting it.

I was trying to protect my machine.

On Easter Sunday 2024, I became convinced God was calling me to something else. I didn’t know what was next, but I knew I needed to leave. I had always been someone who stayed and fought for the church. This time, I wasn’t going to fight. I wanted to disappear quietly and move on.

God had other plans, of course. My departure was difficult, and the circumstances surrounding it brought me into a dark place for a season. I found myself sitting next to Natalie, asking God what He was doing.

I didn’t have all the answers. I just knew something had to change.

And then I flew to India.

After a 17-hour flight, I stepped off the plane in New Delhi. Everything around me was different. I smelled spices, exhaust, and body odor all at once. The streets were crowded. Smog hung in the air. Poverty surrounded us.

But something else happened.

Everything had color. Living color.

I wasn’t thinking about denominational politics, church growth, budgets, or leadership struggles. I was surrounded by people whose faith was costing them something. These believers worried about government restrictions and whether they would be free to practice their religion. They had few resources and little security.

Yet they followed Jesus with everything they had.

I grew up poor. I spent much of my childhood in the projects, and I thought I understood poverty. I didn’t.

We visited families living in one-room homes smaller than my kitchen. We visited schools where children were packed into tiny classrooms. Across the street from the school, we could smell the burning of bodies at the crematorium.

These people had so little.

They wanted to give us everything.

One day, my teammate Robert and I visited a family. We had been told not to eat or drink anything offered to us because our bodies might not handle the germs well.

We sat with the family, communicating through an interpreter. At one point, the mother said something to her young son. He ran outside and returned with an opened bottle of Coke.

She poured some for him and handed one to Robert and one to me.

We looked at each other.

We both knew what we had been told. We also knew what refusing would communicate to this family.

We thought about pretending to drink it.

We both failed.

Robert drank some, and then I did too.

That Coke probably cost her two days’ wages.

Two days.

She had almost nothing, yet she wanted to share something special with us. She wanted to show us hospitality.

I left that home thinking about more than a bottle of Coke. I was confronted by a woman who had so little but was willing to give something she could hardly afford.

I had spent years learning how to build successful ministries. I knew how to manage budgets, develop leaders, navigate difficult relationships, and create something people could admire.

But what had I learned about surrender?

As I walked back toward our van, children surrounded me, smiling and waving. They acted like I was famous. I couldn’t understand how people with so little could seem so full of joy.

I started crying.

I was embarrassed to let the rest of my team see me, but I knew I wasn’t the same person who had boarded that plane in Kentucky.

These believers didn’t have a Plan B. They didn’t have a denominational board, a retirement plan, or a safety net. They had Jesus, each other, and the faith to believe they could follow Christ tomorrow.

And I wondered how far I had strayed.

A pastor I knew in Eastern Kentucky had once told me that some people believed pastors shouldn’t be paid to serve the Lord. If you were paid, you were a hireling. I had always disagreed. Pastors have families and responsibilities, and churches should support those who serve them.

But that word came back to me in India.

I began comparing my comfortable life as a pastor with the lives of the pastors we were serving alongside. These were people who had given their lives to the Gospel despite having so little security.

My stomach turned.

What does it mean to be a pastor? What does it mean to care for people? At what point did we start caring more about how ministry works than about the mission behind it?

I’m not saying pastors shouldn’t be paid. That’s not the point.

The question is whether we have become more invested in what ministry can do for us than in what ministry asks of us.

When I returned home, I knew I was leaving my church. We were thriving. We had plans, resources, and a future that looked promising. There were plenty of reasons to stay.

But I had begun to recognize something in myself that I couldn’t ignore.

I was choosing my battles based on whom I might upset. I was keeping people in leadership because I wanted my vision to succeed. I was trying to protect something I had built rather than trusting God enough to let Him do what needed to be done.

I had become very good at building a ministry.

I needed to remember how to follow Jesus.

For the first time in my ministry, I stopped fighting. I stopped trying to prove my point or convince everyone that I was right. I listened. I began letting go of the need to control every outcome.

God was asking me to surrender the very things I had spent years building.

I wasn’t comfortable with that. I was used to leading, talking, and doing. I was used to seeing results and receiving affirmation for what I could show others.

But God was teaching me that ministry isn’t ultimately about what we build, how many people attend, or how impressive our plans look.

It’s about following Jesus.

You may not have to travel to India to discover God’s plan for your life. But sometimes you do need to step away from the privileges, resources, and systems you have learned to depend on.

Jesus never promised us a bed of roses. He told us plainly, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

The believers I met in India understood something I desperately needed to rediscover. They weren’t following Jesus because it was convenient, comfortable, or professionally rewarding. They were following Him because He was worth following.

And somewhere between Kentucky and New Delhi, the colors came back.

I began to see ministry differently. I began to see people differently. Most importantly, I began to see Jesus differently.

I would rather lose the ministry I built than lose the reason I started building it in the first place.

Jesus never promised us an easy road.

He promised us Himself.

And that has to be enough.

In Christ,
James

AI is already affecting many aspects of our lives, from work and communication to learning. Many places are starting to integrate AI into their everyday operations, and the church will be no exception. What can AI do for the church, and how can we incorporate it into ministry?

Many things can excite us when it comes to using AI.

We can start translating messages into other languages, develop Bible studies, create social media content, and help the church reach beyond its four walls. Churches with smaller budgets can also benefit from AI, allowing them to complete tasks that might otherwise require several staff members. This can open up more time for pastors to care for their sheep.

There are also fun ways to incorporate AI and help us reach younger generations. We can use AI to develop Bible studies that are fun and interactive, make Bibles available at the click of a button, and create programs that allow people to search for information and ask questions. There are many ways we can use AI to better reach those around us.

However, there are some negatives that come with using AI as well.

AI can provide incorrect information, including inaccurate Bible verses or answers that seem correct but aren’t. Pastors can begin to rely on AI to write their messages without digging deeper into God’s Word or spending time in prayer. They may end up preaching messages filled with good sentences but lacking what God is trying to teach that particular congregation.

Another concern is privacy. Many things happen in our churches, including prayer requests, counseling sessions, and more. When we input that information into AI, are we putting others at risk? Churches should establish standards for using AI, including guidelines about what information can be entered into these programs.

We also run the risk of replacing what makes us human. AI can mimic caring for those around us, but it cannot replace a person. Visiting the sick or comforting a grieving family member requires a human connection. Technology can only take us so far when it comes to ministering to others.

We are called to love our neighbors and disciple those around us. We are called to help those in need and take the Gospel to those around us, no matter what advances are made in technology.

I don’t believe we should run from AI. We should educate ourselves about what it can do, just as we have done with every new technology that has come before us. AI can help the church, but it has some downsides as well. We need to continue using AI safely and responsibly.

We want to continue making room for our youth and helping them understand what we have to offer. They have so many questions, and we need to allow them to ask those questions. We also need to help them see that the church still has a purpose in this day and age. Technology can help us open those doors, but we want young people to know what it feels like to have a relationship with Christ.

We can continue to grow as a church and use AI to our advantage. We just need to make sure we are always following God’s Word and using common sense when incorporating AI into ministry.  Let AI help us reach people we might not otherwise be able to reach.

Never allow AI to overshadow what God is asking us to do. Technology can help us do ministry, but it should never replace the ministry itself.

We want to minister to the world God is preparing for us in the future.

In Christ,
James

People tend to get excited whenever news breaks that someone may have found Noah’s Ark. Well, that excitement has surfaced once again.

Recent studies have focused on the Durupınar Formation in eastern Turkey, near Mount Ararat. Researchers have conducted scans, collected soil samples, and performed core drilling. They believe some of their findings may warrant further investigation, including reports of unusually high levels of organic matter within the formation. They are awaiting further analysis before drawing any firm conclusions.

The Durupınar Formation has intrigued people for years. Its boat-like shape and dimensions have led some to wonder whether it could be connected to the Ark described in Genesis.

So, did they find Noah’s Ark?

I don’t know. But the question opens up an interesting conversation about faith.

There are reasons some people find the possibility exciting. The formation resembles a boat, and its dimensions have been compared with the measurements of the Ark recorded in Genesis. Researchers have also suggested that further analysis of the material found there may help determine whether it contains traces of ancient wood or other organic material.

Another interesting consideration is that accounts of a great flood appear in several ancient cultures. Some of these stories share similarities with the biblical account, including a catastrophic flood, a person who builds a vessel to preserve life, and the sending out of birds. These parallels are worth exploring, although they do not prove that Noah’s Ark has been found.

Of course, none of this establishes that the Durupınar Formation is Noah’s Ark.

There is another side to the discussion. Some scientists believe the formation is simply a natural geological feature that happens to resemble a boat. Geological characteristics observed in the area have been cited in support of that explanation.

And even if researchers were to discover ancient wood at the site, that alone would not prove it belonged to Noah. It would establish only that ancient wood was present. Determining its age, origin, and significance would require additional evidence.

In other words, something can look like a boat without being Noah’s Ark.

We need to be careful not to let excitement get ahead of the evidence. We can be people of faith without claiming to know something we cannot yet prove.

Does Our Faith Depend on Finding the Ark?

If you already believe the Bible, it is exciting to consider the possibility that one day we might discover physical evidence connected to Noah’s Ark. Such a discovery could give us more to investigate and discuss. It might even open the door to meaningful conversations with people who question the Bible.

But let me ask you something: What would happen to your faith if Noah’s Ark were never found?

Would you still believe?

That is where faith comes in.

Hebrews 11:1 says:  “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Faith does not mean pretending evidence is unimportant. It does not mean avoiding difficult questions or refusing to consider new information. Faith is not afraid of honest investigation.

Faith means trusting God even when we do not have all the answers.

We can ask questions. We can examine the evidence. We can listen to people who disagree with us. We can be excited about new discoveries while remaining honest about what those discoveries do—and do not—prove.

Our faith does not have to be threatened by unanswered questions.

Noah Had Faith.

When we read Noah’s story in the Bible, one thing stands out: Noah trusted God before he knew how everything would turn out.

Hebrews 11:7 says: “By faith Noah, being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house; whereby he condemned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith.”

Notice those words: “of things not seen as yet.”

Noah acted on what God had told him before he had seen the events that would follow. He trusted God enough to obey, even though he could not see the whole picture.

Noah had faith before he ever saw it rain.

Perhaps that is one of the lessons we can take from the search for Noah’s Ark today. We can examine the science. We can wonder whether the formation is connected to the biblical account. We can consider new findings and acknowledge when other explanations may be more convincing.

But we do not have to know everything about Noah’s Ark to have faith in the God who saved Noah.

If the formation turns out to be Noah’s Ark, God is still God.

If it turns out not to be Noah’s Ark, God is still God.

If researchers discover convincing evidence of an ancient flood, God is still God.

And if we go another thousand years without finding the answers we seek, God is still God.

Our understanding may change as we learn more, but our faith does not have to depend on solving every mystery.

It’s Okay Not to Know

Sometimes, as Christians, we feel as though we must have an answer for every question about the Bible. We may worry that admitting uncertainty will make our faith look weak.

But there is a difference between knowing what we believe and claiming to know things we cannot establish.

It is okay to say, “I don’t know.”

So, where do I stand on the question of Noah’s Ark?

I believe Noah was a real person.

I believe the Bible is true.

I believe God worked through Noah.

But I do not know whether the Durupınar Formation in Turkey is Noah’s Ark.

Those statements can stand together.

We can hold firmly to our faith while being honest about what we do not know. We do not have to exaggerate evidence or jump on the latest headline to defend what we believe.

Faith is not about knowing everything. It is about trusting God.

Think about Noah’s Ark. The Ark itself was not the source of Noah’s salvation. It was the means God used to preserve Noah and his family through the flood.

The Ark was the instrument. God was the One Noah trusted.

We should be careful not to become so focused on proving that we have found the Ark that we lose sight of the God who saved Noah.

Our faith should not depend on finding a particular piece of ancient wood, identifying a boat-shaped formation, or proving every detail of a biblical event through archaeology.

Our faith rests in God.

What Noah Can Teach Us Today?

So, did they find Noah’s Ark?

I don’t know.

There are claims and observations that some people consider promising, but the evidence described so far does not establish that the formation is Noah’s Ark. Further investigation may tell us more. It may confirm some ideas, challenge others, or leave us with more questions.

And that is okay.

Noah did not know exactly how everything would unfold when he began building the Ark. He trusted what God had told him and acted in faith.

We can learn something from that kind of trust.

Do we have to see everything to have faith?

No, we don’t.

Do we have to know all the answers to have faith?

No, we don’t.

Do we have to know exactly how everything will turn out before we trust God?

No, we don’t.

We just have to trust God.

Whether Noah’s Ark is ever found or not, God is still God. And the faith that sustained Noah is still a lesson for us today.

Perhaps the greatest discovery is not whether we can find Noah’s Ark, but whether we can learn to trust the God who called Noah to build it.

In Christ,
James

Artificial intelligence is becoming a bigger part of everyday life. We use it to answer questions, create images, write essays, recommend music, and even help with difficult problems. I’ve been thinking, journaling, and praying about my use of and response to artificial intelligence. As AI continues to develop, it raises an important question: What makes human beings valuable?

At first, this might seem like a strange question. Of course people have value. But as technology becomes capable of doing more of the things that once required human intelligence and creativity, it is worth asking where our value actually comes from.

Our culture often connects a person’s worth to what they can accomplish. We may feel valuable when we get good grades, succeed at work, create something impressive, or receive recognition from other people. But if our value depends on what we can do, what happens when someone can no longer perform at the same level? What happens when a machine can do something faster or better than we can?

The Bible gives us a different answer.

Genesis 1:27 says that God created humanity in His own image. This means that our worth does not come from our accomplishments, intelligence, appearance, popularity, or productivity. Human beings have inherent value because we were created by God and made in His image.

That changes the way we should think about artificial intelligence. AI may be able to imitate writing, art, conversation, and other forms of human creativity, but it does not change the value of the person who created those things. Technology can reproduce certain abilities, but it cannot determine what makes a human life valuable.

This also reminds us that Christians do not have to respond to new technology with either fear or blind excitement. We can approach AI with wisdom. It can be a useful tool, but it should remain a tool rather than becoming the source of our identity or worth.

Using AI wisely means making ethical choices in ordinary parts of life. In school, for example, a student might use AI to explain a difficult concept, suggest practice questions, or help organize ideas. However, submitting an AI-generated essay as if it were entirely the student’s own work would be dishonest. Christians are called to value truth and integrity, even when cheating seems easy or unlikely to be discovered. A wise student can use AI as a tutor without allowing it to replace personal learning, effort, or responsibility.

The same principle applies at work. AI might help an employee summarize information, brainstorm ideas, analyze data, or complete repetitive tasks. Those uses can save time and allow people to focus on more meaningful responsibilities.

However, workers should not use AI to create false reports, take credit for someone else’s work, manipulate customers, or make important decisions without checking whether the information is accurate and fair. Christians should also be careful with confidential information. Private details about clients, coworkers, patients, or businesses should not be entered carelessly into an AI system. Respecting privacy is one way to love our neighbors.

Creativity also requires wisdom. AI can help someone experiment with a design, develop a rough outline, or overcome writer’s block. It can be a helpful starting point, but Christians should be honest about how much of a project was created by AI. Copying another person’s work, imitating a living artist without permission, or presenting machine-generated work as entirely personal creativity can ignore the value of human effort and originality.

Instead, AI should support creativity rather than erase the people behind it. Our goal should not simply be to produce something quickly, but to create something truthful, thoughtful, and beneficial.

Relationships may be the area where wise AI use matters most. As a pastor, this is where I have the most concern. AI can help someone think through how to apologize, communicate clearly, or understand a difficult topic. But it should not replace genuine conversation, prayer, friendship, or pastoral care.

Sending an AI-generated message during a serious conflict may sound polished, but it can also feel distant or insincere. Sharing private conversations with an AI tool without another person’s permission can violate trust. Christians should remember that people are not problems to be managed by technology. They are individuals made in God’s image, deserving patience, honesty, compassion, and personal attention.

These examples show that the question is not simply, “Can AI do this?” A better question is, “Should I use AI this way?” Christians can ask whether a particular use is truthful, loving, responsible, and respectful of human dignity. We can also ask whether AI is helping us become wiser and more faithful or merely helping us avoid effort, responsibility, and personal connection.

There is also a responsibility that comes with being created in God’s image. We should think carefully about how we use technology and how our choices affect other people. If AI can help us serve, learn, create, and solve problems, those uses can be valuable. But we should also be concerned about dishonesty, exploitation, privacy, and using technology in ways that harm others.

Perhaps the biggest lesson is that our value does not increase when technology is less capable than we are, and it does not decrease when technology becomes more capable than we are. Our worth was never based on being the smartest, most productive, or most talented people in the room. It comes from God.

As AI continues to change the world around us, Christians have an opportunity to remember something that technology cannot change: Every human being is made in the image of God and therefore has a value that cannot be measured by performance. No advancement in artificial intelligence can replace the genuine connection of one human spirit to another.

In Christ,
James

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” —Jeremiah 29:11

Each year, when fall comes along, it tells us something. We see it when the leaves begin to change color. We feel it when the temperature starts to cool down. We experience it when our routines change. Fall tells us that things can change. But what it also tells us is that we can change for the better.

There will be times when God asks us to rest. There will be times when God asks us to grow. There will be times when God asks us to let go of things. And there will be times when God asks us to start over. It’s a good time of year to ask God what needs a do-over in our lives.

This is a verse that many of us know. We use this verse to encourage ourselves and others that God has a plan for our lives. But we need to know what this verse was written about. When God gave this message to Jeremiah, it was being given to the Jewish people who were exiled in Babylon. They didn’t have a choice about where they were and most likely didn’t understand why they were there. Things in their lives were different from the way they used to be. Everything they knew had been taken from them, and the future they saw was most likely nothing like they expected.

But God said to them, “I know the plans I have for you.”

What that meant was that God wasn’t done with them just because of what they were currently experiencing. They weren’t stuck where they were at that point in time.

Sometimes we look at where we are and think that we’ll always be where we are, whether it’s because of something we failed at or something that happened in our lives. Maybe it’s something we experienced that left us feeling like we can’t move on. But God is in the business of starting over.

One thing that we do when we are constantly moving forward is forget to ask if we’re moving in the right direction. We stay busy. Churches stay busy. Families stay busy. We, as individuals, stay busy. There are many good things we can put on our calendars and still not be doing what God wants us to do.

Fall can allow us to take stock of where we are. Where are we as far as our walk with God? How is our prayer life? Are we reading God’s Word? Are we worshiping, or are we just going through the motions? Are we serving? Are we building one another up? Are we allowing others into our lives who need Jesus? And, most importantly, are we willing to change what God wants us to change?

You can’t start over if you don’t know where you are.

Not only do we need to ask ourselves these questions, but we also need to ask them as a church. Churches go through seasons. Some seasons are amazing. There are times when your church will experience great growth. There will be times when your church will be stagnant, maybe going through rough times or just treading water.

We can’t always rely on what God did the day before yesterday. We can praise God for what He has done in the past, but we can’t be trapped in that. We can rejoice in what God has done but not rest on those good things.

So I believe this is the season for our church to ask, “What does God want to do?” Not what do we want to do. Not what has always been done. Not what will make us comfortable. But, “Lord, what do You want us to do?”

That could change everything about our church.

Maybe God wants us to pray more. Maybe He wants us to reach out to our community more. Maybe He wants us to focus more on our young people. Maybe He wants us to help people with their marriages and families. Maybe He wants us to reach the broken. Maybe He wants us to step up and serve in areas where we haven’t served before. Or maybe He just wants us to be more faithful in what He has already asked of us.

Whatever it is, we need to be open to it.

Fall is a great time to evaluate where we are. What about your prayer life? Maybe your relationship with God has become routine. Maybe you’ve been disappointed so many times that you don’t believe God will ever do anything for you again. Maybe there is something you failed at that you think God will never let you do again. Maybe you’ve become complacent.

There are things you may need to let go of.

Starting over doesn’t mean everything is going to be easy. It means that we are focusing on God again. Some of us just need to tell God that we are ready to change what needs to be changed. And we may not like everything that God shows us.

When we grow, we have to change, and when we change, we have to let go of things.

Look at the trees in the fall. They let go of their leaves. There is something beautiful about that.  We want God to give us something new, but we won’t let go of something old. We want to grow in our faith, but we won’t change our ways. We want our church to grow, but we won’t change our mindset. We want closer relationships with others, but we won’t open up. We want God to use us, but we won’t step out of our comfort zone.

Sometimes, to move forward in what God wants for us, we have to let go of what we had in the past. It could be a mindset. A bad habit. Something you’re afraid of. Holding onto someone or something that’s not good for you. An old disappointment. Something that we’ve been doing that isn’t working anymore.

Or maybe it’s believing that we’ll never be able to move past something.

Sometimes we need to let go of some things to start over.

Just because Jeremiah 29:11 says that God has plans for you doesn’t mean that it will happen tomorrow. In fact, the people God was talking to were told that they had to live out their lives until the time when He would show them what He had planned.

That’s something we need to remember.

We live in a world that wants instant gratification. But God doesn’t always work that way. There will be times when we have to wait on Him. Waiting to see what God has for us can take time. Whether it’s your life, your church, or your walk with God, don’t think that you aren’t moving forward just because you can’t see it yet.

God can be doing something in your life that you are not aware of.

Instead of asking how fast we can get to where God wants us to be, we should be asking if we are doing what He wants us to do to get there.

If we believe that God has a plan for us, we can’t sit on the sidelines and wait for Him to do everything. We have to live with hope. And that means we have to take action.

Maybe this fall we need to pray more. Serve more. Worship more. Love more. Forgive more. Give more.

Invite someone to church.

Reach out to someone who hasn’t been to church in a while.

Serve where there is a need.

Open your home.

Encourage someone who needs it.

Read your Bible more.

Make prayer a priority.

Do what God is asking of you.

We don’t have to know what every step is going to look like. Just take the next step that God puts in front of you.

So, fall is here. Maybe it’s time for us to change as well.

We don’t have to change because of something we did wrong. Maybe God is just trying to get us ready for what’s to come.

So, let’s embrace this fall and start over.

Let go of what we need to let go of.

Rebuild what we need to rebuild.

Grow where God wants us to grow.

And know that He has a future for us.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord…. “to give you hope and a future.”

Maybe this fall is that time.

In Christ,
James

Over the years, I’ve mentored many pastors and have been blessed by many pastors who have mentored me. From those who have mentored me, I’ve learned one thing about pastors: They go through more loss than most people will ever know about.

Everyone can see the pastor standing on the stage on Sunday. Not many people know what they go through. They can see them preach but may not know about the late nights spent preparing to preach that message. When my kids were in school, they used to complain when they had to write a term paper or a book report. I always told them, “Well, I have to do that every week!” Of course, they probably didn’t appreciate it then, but now, as adults, I think they understand what I meant.

The congregation may see the smiles but not know about the tears that preceded them. They see pastors pray for others but may not know about those times when the pastor needs prayer.

Please hear this: Ministry is beautiful. There is no better feeling than helping someone through some of the most significant times of their life. Joyful times. Sad times. Prayers answered. Times when there isn’t certainty. Babies born. Marriages. Burials. Breakthroughs. And times when there’s nothing else left to hang on to besides your faith.

Ministry can be costly as well. It will cost you friendships that will never be the same. Some people will walk away from you. There will be words that hurt more than you know, expectations you’ll never be able to meet, and disappointments you’ll never preach about. At times, you are the one who needs encouragement, but you’re used to giving it to others.

What I have found, though, is that God knows when to send a friend with a text, phone call, card, or a simple, “I care about you and your family. I’m praying for you.” To some, this may mean nothing, but to the pastor who is going through a rough time, it can mean the world. It can remind them why they chose ministry in the first place and that they’re doing something meaningful.

If you notice your pastor has changed—maybe they’re not talking as much as normal or they seem more tired or withdrawn—there could be something going on that you’re unaware of. They may have lost someone or been disappointed by someone. Maybe they’re going through something and trying to allow God to heal that area of their life.

You may never know what your pastor is going through, but know that you can love them during that time. Pray for your pastor. Encourage your pastor. Take time to ask them how they’re doing, and when they tell you, leave room for them to be truthful with you. Let them know they don’t have to know everything. They don’t have to fix every problem or always have a positive attitude. There should be someone who ministers to your pastor as well. Remember, they’re human just like you.

I’ve had very few situations where I was treated unfairly or poorly. I’ve served some salt-of-the-earth people—but once in a while, I run into a little pepper! But even those people have taught me something. They weren’t malicious but maybe lacked wisdom or empathy.

Please also hear this: I was a District Superintendent at one time and supervised more than 100 pastors. I know firsthand that pastors can also be difficult, and pastors can also hurt people. I’ve probably done that myself over the years, though it was always unintentional.

As a community of faith and followers of Jesus, we must have immeasurable mercy and unconditional love for people, even when it hurts. Those are the very times when God can do miracles in a congregation and among people who are in relationship.

As Pastor Appreciation Month comes up in the next few weeks, I always like to encourage people to reach out and encourage their pastor. It may sound self-serving, but it’s not, because I have an abundance of support and love from parishioners, staff, friends, and family. But I have dear friends who are pastors who live and work in difficult ministry situations. Very often, a pastor has nowhere to turn to talk.

So when that one person comes to them in a very genuine way and wants nothing more than to encourage them, I can tell you it means the world—and just may keep a pastor from resigning on Monday morning!

They have a life outside of the pulpit that they are navigating. Pastors are shepherds. But pastors are also sheep who have the same struggles all humans have.

Whatever pastor has come to your mind as you’ve read this, give them a call or drop them a note this week.

And this is important: If you’re struggling with something about your pastor, don’t write an email, letter, or text. Talk with him or her directly about it. Open communication is one of the greatest healers we have, and we use it very little.

Real relationships will sometimes have conflict. It’s okay. Christians need to be honest with one another. Most pastors can talk with you without becoming defensive. Some of my greatest lessons have come from a church member honestly and kindly sharing a blind spot or difficulty with me.

If you’ve read this far, thank you! As the Church models health for the world, God will use it to bring us closer to one another and closer together as the Body of Christ.

God bless you as we stand together, unified in faith.

James

As you know, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking and praying about current events in Iran and the Middle East. I watch the news like many of you and find myself consumed with trying to make sense of all of the politics, military strategies, competing claims, and opinions. Everyone has explanations. Everyone knows who is right and wrong. Everyone thinks they know what should happen next. But then I read about the face of a child. And for me, everything changes. Discussing war from a distance is easy. We talk about military targets, retaliation, deterrence, national security, victory or defeat. All of those terms are fine as long as we remember that underneath all of those words are mothers, fathers, grandparents, sons, daughters, and children. Children who are dying.

As a pastor and as a Christian, I cannot sit by and watch the death of innocent people, particularly children, and simply view their deaths as collateral damage or the consequence of war. Those children have a mom. They have a father. They were loved by someone. But more importantly, those children were created by God and loved by Him. The Bible tells us in Genesis 1:27 that we were created in the image of God. Notice what else that verse doesn’t say. It doesn’t say Americans were made in God’s image. It doesn’t say Christians were made in God’s image. It says humanity. All of us. An Iranian child is created in God’s image just as much as an Israeli child or a Palestinian child. An American soldier is made in God’s image just like the mother afraid for her children because explosions are happening outside her door. Their nationality does not make them valuable. Their religion does not make them valuable. Even their government’s policies do not make them valuable. God already has. Sometimes I think Christians can lose sight of that.

It is possible to love America with all of our hearts and still mourn when innocent lives are lost in another country. It is possible to believe that governments have a responsibility to stand up to evil and still insist that innocent life be protected. It is possible to disagree with the Iranian government without allowing our hearts to become hardened against the Iranian people. In fact, if we truly love Jesus, those things aren’t contradictions at all. They are us taking our faith seriously. Jesus had a unique ability to notice people that everyone else ignored. When others wanted the children pushed away, Jesus replied in Matthew 19:14, “Let the little children come to me.”

Throughout Scripture, God reminds His people to care for the vulnerable and those who have little power to protect themselves. Proverbs 31:8 tells us to speak up on behalf of those who can’t speak for themselves. Psalm 82 instructs us to defend the weak and needy. Nowhere do we find the Scriptures telling us to only care for those who look like us, worship like us, vote like us, or live within our borders. Far from it. In fact, Jesus goes much farther in Matthew 5:44 when He tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. That is a beautiful verse until you have enemies. When that happens, it becomes extremely difficult to live it out.

When we love our enemies, Jesus isn’t saying that evil doesn’t exist. He isn’t asking us to ignore injustice. Evil is taken very seriously in the Bible. So is justice. In fact, Romans 13 talks about how governing authorities have a responsibility to restrain evil and maintain peace. But if we ever allow biblical justice to cause us to lose our compassion, then we have misunderstood justice altogether.

As Christians, I believe we should be able to hold two truths in our heads at once. We can condemn evil no matter where it happens and mourn the death of innocent people no matter where they die. We can pray for America, and we can pray for Iranians. We can pray for Israel, and we can pray for Palestinians. We can pray for soldiers who might be put into impossible situations and civilians who find themselves in the middle of a conflict they never wanted. We can pray for justice and still pour out our hearts to God on behalf of mercy. That isn’t weakness. That is what it looks like to follow Jesus.

When war goes on for any length of time, my greatest fear is that we begin to stop seeing people. We begin to view entire nations as “them.” We draw lines on maps, and suddenly everyone who lives on the other side is the enemy. Families become statistics. Dead children become distant numbers on the bottom of a TV screen. You know who never saw people that way? Jesus did not. He saw the hurting boy that everyone else just walked past. He saw the woman nobody else seemed to care about. He saw Zacchaeus when everyone else despised him. He saw children when his disciples tried to shoo them away. And hanging, dying on a cross, he looked at the very people who were killing Him and prayed, “Father, forgive them.”

The cross is why I cannot divide the world into those who deserve my compassion and those who don’t. So how am I praying? I pray for the Iranian mother comforting her child. I pray for the Israeli parents wondering what the future will bring. I pray for Palestinian mothers who just want their children to grow up in peace. I pray for American servicemen and women who may be asked to put their lives at risk. I pray for our president and our leaders here in Washington. I pray for Iranian leaders and leaders throughout the Middle East. I pray God will give them wisdom that is greater than politics, pride, retaliation, or fear. I pray God will restrain evil and protect the innocent. I pray that children will be spared.

And when I pray for peace, I pray that every leader has the courage to pursue it whenever possible. I pray for our enemies. Not because I think they’re right. Not because I want evil to win. And not because I am naive about what is going on in the world. I pray for them because Jesus loved them enough to die for them, and He tells me to pray for them too. If we begin to pray like that, if we allow the cross to teach us how to love our enemies, then we have started down a path that the world desperately needs.

Brothers and sisters, the next few days (or perhaps weeks) are going to be full of opinions, political debates, and propaganda on both sides. Please don’t let the side that loves Jesus best be the side that forgets that there are human beings on the other side. On both sides. When you hear Iran mentioned, remember they are people. They are grandparents gathering around kitchen tables. They are moms kissing their kids goodnight. They are dads worrying about how they will provide for their families. They are teenagers wondering what their future will hold. They are boys who love to play ball with their friends and girls who love to giggle and play with dolls. They are children. Children who have absolutely nothing to do with the conflict. They are the vulnerable. They are valuable. They are the Kingdom of God.

In Christ,
James