by Jonathan Powers | Oct 21, 2026 | Uncategorized
Pilgrimage as a Spiritual Possibility
By James R. Thobaben
This article first appeared in the March 2022 edition of Good News.
In 1864, as the American Civil War turned toward its inevitable (and proper) conclusion, Methodists in North Carolina published The Southern Zion’s Songster. Included in the work, albeit uncredited, was “I’m a Pilgrim and I’m a Stranger,” a poem written by Mary S. B. Dana Shindler and composed in the midst of war, as well as her own significant personal tragedies. Perhaps she was influenced by Methodist Mary Hamlin Maxwell’s 1849, and similarly named hymn, “I’m a Pilgrim and a Stranger.”
With slightly different words, but quite common sentiments, the two women drew from pilgrim imagery to describe their own revivalist spirituality. They were not alone. Highly influential 19th century hymnals, such as The Sacred Harp and The Southern Harmony, are filled with songs of pilgrimage. Life is a journey, and an uncertain one at that. Yet, it is not random, nor a matter of achieving a self-constructed purpose: there is an end, a telos, that draws one through a process toward a goal.
The song “I am a Pilgrim” – as it is generally known today – is a mixture of lyrics from the work of those two women and anonymous contributors along the way. It has been sung as an African-American gospel song (perhaps most wonderfully performed by the Soul Stirrers in 1965), as a Bluegrass / Appalachian music standard (memorably, by Doc Watson, drawing on the shapenote tradition), and by innumerable small country and inner-city church congregations.
But why? Why sing songs of pilgrimage? Why use the imagery? Did not Protestants give up on ‘pilgrimage’ as a spiritual discipline? Both the Anglican and Methodist Articles of Religion include a rejection of “Purgatory, Pardons, Worshipping and Adoration … of Images as of Relics, and also Invocation of Saints, [with any such action being but a] fond thing, vainly invented…”
The Protestant Reformers questioned the value of physical pilgrimage, with more than a few condemning the practice. They were picking up on suspicions that had begun to appear several centuries earlier, in the late Middle Ages. Some had been arguing that pilgrimages simply provided an opportunity for sin, as Geoffrey Chaucer described throughout Canterbury Tales. Others asserted they were spiritually insufficient – not worth the trouble – as seems to be the argument in William Langland’s Piers Plowman.
Looking back, it may be that a turning point was reached when pilgrimages to sites associated with Christ in Israel and places where martyrs had been killed or buried (such as Saint Paul’s Outside the Walls in Rome) were forced just prior to 1100 AD to compete with new sites associated with the Virgin (e.g. Walsingham in England, 1061 AD) and, then, eventually those places with “remaining relics of heaven” (e.g. remnants of the body of Jesus, like his umbilical cord, and pieces of the eucharistic bread, such as at Wilsnack in Germany, 1383 AD).
The proto-Protestants (that is, reformers before the Reformation) began openly challenging the value of such journeys. The true pilgrimage, they strongly argued, is the sojourn of the soul toward heaven. Therefore, physical pilgrimage is, at best, a distraction and, at worst, a corruption.
• For instance, around 1400 AD, reportedly Master William Thorpe told the Archbishop of Canterbury, “I call them true pilgrims travelling towards the bliss of heaven.” These will not “waste God’s goods in the vain pilgrimages, spending their goods upon vicious hostelars…”
• Similarly, church reformer Jan Hus condemned the Wilsnack pilgrimage site and comparables in no uncertain terms; it was one factor leading to his martyrdom. In 1403, he proclaimed: “True Christians should rather remember Christ’s words spoken to the doubting Thomas: ‘Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.’ Instead of running after false miracles they should turn to the resurrected Christ who is existent in the Holy Sacrament…”
Rejection of physical pilgrimage was all but required during the Reformation. For instance, the site of Archbishop Thomas Becket’s death in Canterbury likely had in excess of 100,000 visitors annually before the shrine was destroyed in 1538. The site of the supposedly inflammable, blood-stained eucharistic wafers at Wilsnack had drawn its own huge crowds, but suddenly closed down when a reforming priest demonstrated they would burn after all in 1558.
Within 50 years of Luther, the “de-physicalizing” of pilgrimage was generally accepted in Protestant regions. By the time Bunyan released The Pilgrim’s Progress in 1678, the single most important devotional work written in the English language, few English-speaking Protestants would have considered the behavior anything but blasphemous.
Does not “earning grace by a work-of-walking” create a sort of spiritual elitism? Yes. Does not required adoration of an object deny the ever-presence of God? Yes. When taken to an extreme, does it not seem more magical than spiritual? Indeed, yes. Could any earthly object or place act as an intermediary when God is directly accessible? No. And, hence the Anglicans and Methodists included that above cited article of religion. Reform was necessary.
Still, as tends to happen, there was an overcorrection. Might not physical pilgrimage, properly conducted, be an instrument, a tool, a means of grace? Yes, it might. Analogically, even if the sacramental bread and wine is not “transubstantiated” into actual body and blood, is it not still the “real Presence”? Yes, it is. Can it not serve instrumentally as what is called a “means of grace”? It can. So, too, can physical pilgrimage.
It certainly seems that humans find instrumental spiritual value in journeying. Sometimes it is to a local church for prayer, sitting in the same pew one has used for years. Sometimes it is proclaiming the Gospel from the top of one’s own father’s grave, as John Wesley did when he returned to his home church in 1742. Sometimes it is journeying to early Methodist sites in Britain in what is called a “Wesleyan pilgrimage.” And, sometimes it is something almost identical to a practice of the Middle Ages, such as a journey to Jerusalem to walk in the steps of Jesus Christ on the Via Dolorosa.
Some 20 years ago, while coincidentally (or providentially) re-reading John Bunyan’s A Pilgrim’s Progress (1678) and using William Langland’s 14th century poem in a course I teach, I decided I really should walk a pilgrimage route. I chose the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Since then I have walked the Camino a second time (along a different route). In Ireland, I trudged up and down Crough Patrick and fasted three days and stayed awake through the night on the island of Lough Derg. My pilgrimage experience has included walking up a dusty road (with cars driving too fast) to reach Chimayo, New Mexico. In England, I’ve journeyed from Rochester to Canterbury (along the path walked by Chaucer’s pilgrims) and waded the tidal pool to Lindisfarne. Mostly out of academic interest, I’ve walked from just north of Berlin to Wilsnack. I am scheduled to go to Israel this summer, and some day – God willing – hope to visit Ethiopia, Armenia, and maybe Rome.
What have I gained? Nothing I might not have obtained through another means of grace. That, though, is true about all the spiritual instruments we use – none are necessary, for Christ alone saves. Walking toward a Christian destination, then, can be a means of grace, but is never a garnering of “spiritual credit” nor proof of spiritual heroism. Rather, physical pilgrimage makes known to us at the deepest level, that our true selves are not disembodied spirits (even in heaven according to I John) and that our Lord assumed this same corporeality.
Physicality matters spiritually. We all recognize that in a hospital room or at the quickening of a baby or when we see cruel injustice. Similarly, the palpable nature of physical pilgrimage reminds one with every step of the tangible nature of the Incarnation and of our journey to be like Him. Pilgrimage is just a tool for focusing one’s mind and will on what the heart should be, but it is a useful tool.
Here, then, are my five suggestions for Protestants interested in using this means of grace:
• The pilgrimage routes one chooses should be focused on Jesus Christ, the Incarnate God. Christian pilgrimage is not a trip to an interesting place, though it may be interesting to take the trip. The final purpose is not exercise, weight loss, seeing new places, wondering at beautiful art or architecture, or enjoying nature – it is Christ. Those other things may and will happen, but only properly if Christ is the focus – ideally of each step, but at least of the last few as the end is reached.
• A pilgrimage should be costly, but reasonably so. It may or may not cost money, but it must cost time and effort. This is not tourism. It is a spiritual discipline. Select a journey that is manageable, but requires effort – significant enough that one moves through discomfort to the recognition of both the cost of discipleship and the joy of walking with Christ toward heaven. By the way, this requires a balance of “means of grace,” so one should commit to the same cost in effort and money for “works of mercy” – some significant service to others – upon return.
• Follow a route that has a history – going where others have gone to worship our Lord. Even if their theology was not always perfect, it is essential to recognize and be part of the community of faith through time and space. Acknowledge one walks in the company of the cloud of witnesses, and seek out places where people knelt, where they gathered, where they stayed.
• The best way to keep that disciplinary focus is to simultaneously use other disciplines – especially, daily Scripture reading and focused prayer (remember, intentionally, those you meet who need Christ and those at home who miss you). Multiple times through the day, journal both as a diary of travel and as a record of spiritual struggle and of the felt presence of the Lord. Take communion. Serve others along the way. Be intentionally polite in accepting the gift of hospitality.
• And, enter into mutual accountability. Recognize that you, as a pilgrim, need the earthy community of saints. Seriously consider whose company you keep while walking. The criticisms in the late Middle Ages still have some validity – too many walking near you recognize they have a spiritual need, but are too ready to seek gratification in pleasures that are not true joy, but worldly and fleeting. Still, you will certainly have the opportunity to tell some confused and lost seekers why you walk and, thereby, speak the Good News. And, you thankfully will meet faithful others on the Way (just as did the character “Christian” in The Pilgrim’s Progress).
One final suggestion: do not listen to people who say “all that matters is the journey.” That simply is not true. You must want to “get there.” That is true about the physical peregrination and true about life’s sojourn to heaven. If this, or any supposed “means of grace” does not further your journey with Jesus Christ toward the goal of the kingdom of God, then abandon it and use something else.
As that old revival hymn “I am a Pilgrim” says, “rough and thorny is the road … but it leads to God.” While that song refers to the pilgrimage to heaven, physical pilgrimage is a foreshadowing that can be a useful tool toward reaching the goal of the upward calling, but it is nothing more.
James R. Thobaben is the Dean of the School of Theology and Formation, and professor of Bioethics and Social Ethics at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky. He is author of Healthcare Ethics: A Comprehensive Christian Resource. In addition to his work at the seminary, Dr. Thobaben is co-pastor at Mt. Zion United Methodist Church in Mercer County, Kentucky.
by Jonathan Powers | Oct 14, 2026 | Uncategorized
Friends We Can’t Do Without
by Mike Powers
Recently, I was texting with four friends I have known since the mid-1970’s when I became the youth director in their church. Separated by miles we often text back and forth with running commentary during games involving our favorite teams. We love sharing the candor, humor, agony and, sometimes, the ecstasy of our passion for sports. On this particular afternoon, our conversation wandered back to when and how we first became acquainted. As we were raised in various denominations, one of the members of the group asked another, Bob, if he was predestined to join our Methodist youth group or did he come by his own free will. Since he did not know what a Calvinist was, Bob could not say one way or another. My response was, “Bob, if that wasn’t God’s sovereign plan, we’re glad you freely chose to join our tribe!” I will never forget Bob’s reply, “I am forever thankful he led us to you. Now I am crying. I love you all so much! I can honestly say every person on this text is a brother to me. That is rare, and I cherish it!”
Bob’s comment was quite remarkable. How rare, indeed, do men express themselves to other men with such personal, transparent and intimate language? How little did I imagine that I would have the high and holy privilege of having such friends 50 years after sharing life and Jesus with this group of teenagers? Such friendships are a sharp contrast to a culture that is increasingly becoming isolated, individualistic, defensive and private.
Consider the fact that very few of us know the first names of neighbors living within 500 yards of our homes. The average American family moves every 5 to 7 years even when the job does not force a move. With so many demands of school, sports, work, etc., there is very little time to build close friendships with others. In our free time, we tend to insulate and isolate ourselves from others on our iPhones, iPads, computers and televisions. We are very careful and selective with whom we share our time and space. This is especially true for men. According to one author (Alan Loy McGinnis, The Friendship Factor), only 10% of all men have any real friends. Barna Group research revealed that over 65% of all pastors (men and women) say they have no close friends or confidants outside the family. That is an alarming statistic. Too few spiritual leaders who are charged with the responsibility of creating and nurturing a dynamic, life-giving community of faith are experiencing such relationships themselves.
This fact remains: we are created in the image of God. The oneness of God, three Persons yet One, is Perfect Love, the ultimate expression of other-love: the Father loves the Son who loves the Father; the Son loves the Spirit who loves the Son; the Spirit loves the Father who loves the Spirit. We are created with a longing to experience and express such intimate, holy love. The possibility of our participating in authentic, loving community and deep, meaningful friendships emanates from the nature of God’s being. The good news is that this longing for intimate relationships is God’s idea, God’s initiative, God’s promise. Faithful is the one who calls you who also will do it (1 Thessalonians 5:24).
Soon after the creation of Adam, God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper for him” (Genesis 2:18). This relates directly to the creation of Eve, but it also points out that we are social creatures. No man is an island. No man stands alone. Contrary to the brilliant songwriter Paul Simon, no man or woman is a rock that feels no pain. Our personal and spiritual health is worked out in relationships. It is not good to be alone.
Jesus’ ministry model was centered in an intimate relationship with the 12 apostles whom he repeatedly called “friends” (John 15:15). There also was an inner circle of three with whom he formed an even deeper friendship and shared the deepest thoughts of his heart. We may respectfully refer to the disciples as “friends he could not do without.”
To be a Christian is to be in an intimate relationship with the Triune God, in Christ, with the Father, and with brothers and sisters born of the Spirit. The writer to the Hebrews gave the warning to “not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing” (10:25 NIV). That is a call to be there for each other. Friends don’t quit on friends. Friendship is not an option for a believer. Friendship is essential for every believer. “Two are better than one, because they have good return for their work…Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:9, 12).
There are at least four levels of friendships. (1) Acquaintances are those persons with whom we have occasional contact. Our conversations are general and safe: “Nice weather we are having.” “How about those Wildcats?” We are polite, kind and considerate of our acquaintances, but that is about as far as we go with them. (2) Casual Friends are those with whom we share common interests and activities. We can talk more specifically and personally with casual friends: “How’s that golf game?” “It was good to see you in Sunday School, Kiwanis, Garden Club last week.” Casual friends may see each other quite often because they spend time at the same events; they share common interests. (3) Close Friends make up our third level of friendships. Close friends share mutual life goals and participate with us in achieving those goals: families that go on vacations together, business partners, Bible study groups, AA and other support groups. Working together for the common good draws friends closer to one another. Most people conclude that having close friends is as good as it gets. (4) Intimate Friends is a deeper level of friendship that we all need yet few experience. These are friends who are more than merely polite, who can do more than converse about some topic or even work together for the same goals. Intimate Friends are committed to the development of each other’s character. Intimate Friends help each other with blind spots because honesty, trust and commitment are at the heart of these relationships. Intimate Friends have permission to polish off the rough spots as well as invade our space during the rough times in our lives. “One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24).
If there was ever someone who needed a friend, it was Jonathan, the son of Saul, King of Israel. The Philistines’ domination over Israel was so complete at that time there were only 2 swords in all the land: Jonathan’s and King Saul’s. While the nation was in the depth of despair, Jonathan believed that if God wanted Israel to be free, it would happen. Others looked down; Jonathan looked up, believing God was able. His bold leadership rallied the people to rebel against the oppressors, but his father’s sin and later rejection by God as leader of Israel left the people worse off than before… and Jonathan very much alone. He, too, became discouraged, thinking there was no hope…. that is until David entered the picture. It was David’s remarkable defeat of Goliath and his bold confidence in God’s strength and presence with him that indicated to Jonathan that David was a man after his own heart.
From that point, David and Jonathan became the best of friends. I Samuel 20:17 (NIV), “And Jonathan made David reaffirm his vow of friendship again, for Jonathan loved David as much as he loved himself.” I contend that there were four things that made their friendship one of the most celebrated in all literature.
First – Jonathan and David were like-minded. “After David had finished talking with Saul, he met Jonathan, the king’s son. There was an immediate bond of love between them, and they became the best of friends” (I Samuel 18:1). Literally that reads, “The soul of Jonathan became one in spirit with David.” Jonathan saw that David shared his heart for the Lord and his purposes. Deep friends do not have to always think alike, but they have a shared value system, shared dreams and hopes, and a shared desire to follow the Lord.
Second – Jonathan and David were devoted to each other. “And Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the robe he was wearing and gave it to David, along with his tunic, and even his sword, his bow and his belt” (1 Samuel 18:3-4). The king’s son, Jonathan, dressed this shepherd, David, in his own garments and symbolically stated, “We stand together, side by side, as equals.” A modern example of such devotion was seen in the life of Anne Sullivan who, as a twenty-year-old, committed her life to helping the blind and deaf seven-year-old Helen Keller. Within 3 years, Helen was writing letters in French to famous persons in Europe. She mastered 5 languages and stayed with Helen through her studies at Radcliffe. Anne Sullivan devoted most of her life to making Helen Keller the remarkable lady and leader she was known to be. Like Jonathan, her deepest desire was to make her friend “royalty.” Anne was “a friend Helen couldn’t do without.”
Third – Jonathan and David were fiercely loyal to each other. King Saul resented this remarkable relationship as he rebuked his son, Jonathan, “As long as the son of Jesse lives on this earth, neither you nor your kingdom will be established” (1 Samuel 20:31 NIV). Yet, as Saul spoke evil against David, Jonathan spoke well of David and even persuaded his father on one occasion to make an oath not to harm David. Loyalty is indispensable in deep friendships. Pascal said, I set this down as a fact, that if all men knew what each other said of the other, there would not be four friends in the world (Penses, 1670). You will never know a deep friendship without mutual loyalty and trust. Intimate friends are fully invested in each other.
Fourth – Jonathan and David were available to each other. Throughout I Samuel, David is constantly fleeing King Saul. On one occasion, David delivered a town from the grip of the Philistines, only to find out that they were plotting to turn him over to King Saul. David fled to the desert, disheartened and terribly discouraged, but Jonathan showed up in that lonely place and pointed him to the Lord who had been the Source of his strength all this life (1 Samuel 23:16). The wise man said in Proverbs 17:17, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” There is no substitute for a friend who shows up unexpected in an hour of need.
The dream that they would rule Israel together in peace one day was not to be. Jonathan, his brothers and father were killed in battle at the hands of the Philistines. David was crushed with sorrow, yet, with the encouragement of Jonathan’s devoted friendship at the significant, formative years of his life, David is remembered as a man after God’s own heart.
The late Dr. Andrew Gallman, a Methodist pastor and evangelist, led me to the place of
surrender of my life to the purposes of Jesus Christ when I was a senior in high school. Andy was a friend who kept showing up during those early, crucial, spiritually formative years. He was an intimate friend who once shared this bit of prose:
What is a friend? I’ll tell you.
It is a person with whom you dare to be yourself.
Your soul can go naked with him.
He seems to ask you to put on nothing, only to be what you really are.
When you are with him, you do not have to be on your guard
You can say what you think, so long as it is genuinely you.
He understands those contradictions in your nature that causes others to misjudge you.
He understands. You can weep with him, laugh with him, pray with him –
Through and underneath it all he sees, knows, and loves you.
A friend, I repeat, is one with whom you dare to be yourself. – Anonymous
Brothers and sisters, the greatest witness we can give our children and their children, and their children, and all who are yet to be born is our life in Christ and the love we share with cherished friends we can’t do without. May it be so.
Mike Powers is a retired Elder in and the former President Pro Tempore and Conference Superintendent of the Mid-South Conference of the Global Methodist Church.
by Jonathan Powers | Oct 7, 2026 | Uncategorized
A Fountain of Life
By Stephen Rankin
“The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life, so that one may avoid the snares of death.” Proverbs 13:14
Across the years, I have benefitted tremendously from people who gave me their time, attention, and perspectives on life. As I ponder this proverb, several of them come to mind. They are among the wise, whose teaching has been a fountain of life to me.
It’s good to remember how godly wisdom most often comes to us. It comes through study, of course, and prayer, but perhaps most important, it comes through people. Embodied wisdom, the wisdom of Christ in real flesh and blood relationships. This part of life seems to be slipping away in our digitized world.
So, as a testimony, I want to mention two of the wise (apart from my parents) who for me have been a fountain of life. Time has stretched the distance between us (one is in heaven) but their impact on me remains. Their names will mean nothing to you, but I hope my mentioning them sparks your own thoughts about the wise in your life and may the memory of them provoke you to praise God’s goodness.
For me, Betty Jo Banks comes to mind first. While I was in high school, she gathered about thirty of us teenagers from several rural Kansas communities and formed a Christian singing group, called The Challengers. Betty Jo was “Big Momma” to us. With the help of our parents who hauled us all over the place, she organized trips to area churches, where we sang and shared brief testimonies. Under her guidance, we learned to be a fellowship, a real community of followers of Christ. She prayed and taught us to pray. She spoke from the heart and taught us to do likewise. She praised us and chastised us (ever so gently) when we needed it. She demonstrated patience, firmness, and steadiness. We watched her handle unexpected circumstances, like a car breaking down on the way to a concert or an unplanned gap in the program because someone was sick. By watching her, we learned how to live.
Jim Cook served as the Campus Director for our Campus Crusade group while I was in college. I was blessed to be in one of his small groups, so I got to know him well. He just seemed to know the right things to say, the perfect questions to ask. He candidly admitted when he didn’t know the answer to one of my questions. That was important, too. I remember asking him about politics. As a college student, I had come to realize that I knew virtually nothing and wanted to grow. It was a time of deep societal division and disenchantment after President Nixon’s resignation. Loud voices alternatively excoriated and praised President Ford’s pardon of his disgraced predecessor. I didn’t know what to think, so I asked Jim. He helped me think. I learned a little bit about “thinking Christianly” about important public matters.
Perhaps the most massive and troubling social change of the past thirty years has been the creation of digital technology that allegedly “connects” people but more often than not isolates us. By numerous experts’ analysis, it has contributed to significant loneliness. Various studies show that in the neighborhood of 2/3 of youth and young adults around the world(!) say that loneliness is a significant problem for them. One person whose research I follow is Dr. Jean Twenge. She has written about the year 2012 as a benchmark for the acceleration of a number of problems for teens, like loneliness, related to the internet and social media. That’s the year the first smartphones hit the market.
The dramatic increase in reports of loneliness, coupled with the dominance of digital technology in daily life, prompted my thinking about where people go to find wisdom. It has become less and less the case that wisdom is shared face-to-face.
One of the sources that keeps data on internet usage shows that currently there are in the neighborhood of 55,000 active Apple podcasts dedicated to what we would call “self-help.” That’s just Apple. It doesn’t include Spotify or YouTube. Think of all the self-help (or, perhaps more precisely, self-improvement) topics like time management, career development, relationship fixes or enhancements, physical health, and personal emotional or psychological help, just to name a few. The internet is flooded with podcasts on these subjects and many more.
I have a hunch that, in our individualistic and self-conscious age, more people use online sources like these podcasts for life-guidance, for wisdom, rather than talking with an actual in-the-flesh person. To be clear, I have in mind the more common life challenges that self-help resources address, not the sorts of things that might need counseling or therapy. The perceived anonymity of the online environment tempts people to think that they can find the wisdom they need without having to let anyone know they might be struggling with something.
The internet is a weird place, where self-exposure and anonymity co-exist in perverse ways. It reminds me of a notable aspect of my experience in higher education. College students have become masters at posing for the camera, at looking happy and on top of things. They feel enormous pressure to live up to the hype of “the college experience” and to demonstrate success, so they learn how to look “on” all the time, even when they’re riddled with anxiety and self-doubt.
Paradoxically, young people also remind us of the truth of our proverb. Once they find a trustworthy, humble, transparent, wise adult, they come seeking wisdom.
I dream of congregations where the wise are identified and people know them to be “a fountain of life.” And don’t sell yourself short on having wisdom to share. If you’re an older Christian (like I am), reach out to the youth in your church or social group. Get to know them. Learn about their likes and dislikes, their joys, and worries. Invite that young couple with the new baby out for a meal or to your home. If it helps, invite more than one couple. Make it a little group (but keep the preparation manageable), so that no one feels singled out or responsible to carry the load for a conversation.
You don’t need special training to be among the wise. You don’t have to have it all together. You need firm faith in Christ, a humble, teachable heart, a love for other people, and the courage to share your life with someone. That’s it.
I am so thankful for people who shared their life with me, people like Betty Jo Banks and Jim Cook. I hope you can name at least a handful of people who have been wisdom for you. And I hope, further, that we can take this proverb more deeply into our hearts. The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life. If ever there was a time when people needed this wisdom, the time is now.
Stephen Rankin is the Contributing Editor for Good News Magazine.
by Jonathan Powers | Sep 30, 2026 | Uncategorized
The Last Twelve Feet
By Steve Wilson
One evening, as I was walking in our neighborhood, I saw friends from Sudan cooking dinner in their garage. When I greeted them, they offered me a plate of food. I had already eaten and wasn’t hungry, but knowing how important it is to receive others’ hospitality, I gladly accepted.
Our family had recently returned to the United States after living and serving in Costa Rica and Mexico for about four years. We settled in a diverse neighborhood in Atlanta where students at our local elementary school represented more than 40 nations. Besides the Sudanese family, our neighbors included people from Eritrea, India, and Mexico.
Across the United States, neighborhoods are changing rapidly. In many communities, people from around the globe are living next door, and followers of Jesus increasingly find themselves forming friendships with people whose cultures and religious traditions differ from their own. People have traveled 12,000 miles and moved across the street from us. To begin loving our multicultural neighbors, we need only cross those last twelve feet, introduce ourselves, and get to know them. Cross-cultural and interfaith encounters are increasingly becoming part of ordinary life.
Pew Research Center reports that 61% of U.S. adults have at least some friends from a different religion than their own. Proximity to people of other faiths is now the rule, not the exception. Yet only about three in ten Americans say they talk about religion with anyone outside their family as often as once or twice a month.
For followers of Jesus who want to share their faith, that can raise a very practical concern: “I don’t know where to start, and I’m a little afraid of saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing.” Those fears can leave us hesitant to reach out, but we do not need to have every answer before we begin building a relationship.
We begin with a conviction that has not changed: Jesus is the good news. Across cultural differences, our goal is to point people to Him in ways they can understand. That means approaching our neighbors as learners, listening to their stories, asking thoughtful questions, and getting to know what matters to them.
Going as a Learner
When we lived in Atlanta, I walked across the street one day to visit our Indian neighbors. They welcomed me into their backyard and showed me their vegetable garden. Everything they were growing was unfamiliar to me, so I asked them about the vegetables and what advice they could offer for my own garden.
That simple conversation opened the door to an ongoing friendship. We began sharing tools, and they would stop by to ask, “Do you have this? Could we borrow it?” Those everyday exchanges gave us opportunities to talk, and little by little, we got to know one another.
They knew we were followers of Christ, and as our friendship grew, I looked for ways to share the truth about Jesus in everyday language they could understand. Because we knew their struggles and what was happening in their lives, we could speak about how the good news of Jesus offered hope in the circumstances they were facing.
A willingness to learn, an open home, and a growing friendship do not, by themselves, constitute evangelism. They do, however, help us know and love our neighbors so that we can share the good news of Jesus with sensitivity to their circumstances and discernment about when to speak. That requires attention to the cultural context of our conversations. We may need to learn unfamiliar social cues, recognize different expectations, and reconsider assumptions about how to discuss faith. Contextualizing the gospel means communicating the truth about Jesus in ways our neighbors can understand, with care for how our words and actions may be received.
Peter had to learn this, too. Though he had been close to Christ, he still needed what I call a “cross-cultural conversion experience.” He stayed in the home of Simon the tanner (Acts 9:43), whose work carried associations with ritual uncleanness. Later, he entered the home of Cornelius, accepted his hospitality, and proclaimed the good news (Acts 10:24–48).
But God was at work before Peter ever entered Cornelius’s house. Cornelius was already praying when an angel of God told him to send for Peter (Acts 10:1–8). Meanwhile, God was working in Peter, confronting assumptions that would have kept him from entering a Gentile’s home (Acts 10:9–23). By the time Peter crossed Cornelius’s threshold, God had prepared both men for the encounter.
For Peter, crossing that threshold meant crossing a boundary he had previously believed he should observe. Once inside, he acknowledged what God had shown him: “God has shown me that I should not call anyone impure or unclean” (Acts 10:28). Peter then began to speak about Jesus, and while he was still speaking, the Holy Spirit came upon those who heard the message (Acts 10:34–44).
This was a journey for Peter, and it will be a journey for each of us, too. Crossing cultures in the name of Jesus may expose things in us that Christ still wants to transform.
Conversations That Point to Jesus
As I spend time with people from different cultures and faiths, both around the world and at home, I continue to learn how to speak about Jesus in ways that communicate good news. Whether across the globe or across the street, God faithfully guides us as we learn how to point each person to Jesus.
On the road to Emmaus, Jesus came alongside two people and asked what they were discussing as they walked. He noticed their sadness and invited them to share their story (Luke 24:17). Something holy can happen in these moments when we draw near, ask questions, and listen.
Paul offers another picture in Colossians 4:2–6. He calls followers of Jesus to devote themselves to prayer and asks them to pray for opportunities to speak about Christ. He urges them to live wisely among those who do not believe and to make the most of every opportunity. Their conversations should be gracious, so they know how to answer each person.
As my friend Jorge Acevedo has written, “Prayer creates awareness of ‘divine opportunities’ that God’s prevenient grace is preparing and is already at work in the lives of our neighbors and friends.”³
Prevenient grace means we do not bring God into an encounter with our neighbor; God is already at work before we arrive. In Acts 10, we see that grace at work in Cornelius before Peter visits, even as it prepares Peter to go. We, too, are invited to participate in what God has already begun.
Recently, on a long flight, I had a wonderful conversation with a young Muslim woman from Manchester seated in my row. We talked for hours, listening respectfully as we shared our beliefs. As I listened, I began to recognize signs of God’s work in her life—signs I could help her notice and consider.
There is much we can learn about communicating the good news to people from different religious backgrounds. As we pay attention to God and to our neighbors, we learn how to speak about Jesus in ways that connect with their particular questions, hopes, and struggles. Through prayer, listening, and gracious conversation, we can help our friends recognize the good news of Jesus in their own lives.
Crossing the Last Twelve Feet
Crossing those last twelve feet begins with a willingness to say, “I have something to learn from you.” As we listen, build trust, and come to know our neighbors, we also find opportunities to say, “I have something to offer you.” In the give-and-take of friendship, we learn how to share the good news of Jesus in ways that speak to their lives.
These everyday encounters connect us to a much larger story. God’s mission, from everywhere to everyone, is on our doorstep. We belong to the global body of Christ, and we are invited to participate in the unfinished work of making Jesus known That invitation still calls us across the globe. We need to partner with churches, sometimes 12,000 miles away, to reach people who have never heard the good news. Yet we do not have to travel far to begin following Jesus into His mission. Our next step can take us just across the street.
As we cross those last 12 feet, we may discover that God has already been preparing the way, working in our neighbors’ lives and opening our hearts to them. And we may find that our neighbor’s life is not the only one He intends to transform.
Steve Wilson serves as Senior Director of Global Church Engagement at
TMS Global. He holds a master’s in intercultural studies from Fuller Theological Seminary and is the creator of
Who Is My Neighbor, a six-week curriculum for churches that want to begin engaging in spiritual conversations across cultural divides.
by Jonathan Powers | Sep 23, 2026 | Uncategorized
When God Meets His People
by Jonathan A. Powers
The CBS television interviewer, Dan Rather, once asked Mother Teresa of Calcutta: “When you pray, what do you say to God?” Teresa replied, “I don’t say anything, I listen.” Rather pressed further: “Well okay, when God speaks to you, then, what does he say?” Teresa answered, “He doesn’t say anything. He listens. And if you don’t understand that, I can’t explain it to you.”
Mother Teresa’s response here is quite cryptic, but if we sit with it for a moment, we can see that it says something profound about prayer. Prayer is, at its core, an act of attention. It is not just about speaking but about listening, about being fully present before God. It is a turning toward God and an awareness that God, in love, attends to us.
Worship shares this character as prayer. When we gather to offer God our praise, prayers, and devotion, we turn our attention toward God. But worship does not begin with our decision to turn toward him. Rather, it begins with the God who has already turned toward us.
That truth matters in a world where attention is continually divided. Screens, responsibilities, anxieties, and the ordinary demands of life leave many of us restless even when we enter a place of worship. However, to worship is to turn our hearts and minds toward God once again. As we sing, pray, listen to Scripture, and come to the Lord’s Table, we make ourselves attentive to the One who sees us more fully than we see ourselves.
This attention is more than an exercise in concentration, however. In worship, we remember that we do not have to strive to earn God’s notice. We come before a God who knows and loves us, who hears both our spoken prayers and the needs we cannot yet put into words. Such an encounter can reshape our sense of who we are. Our achievements and failures do not have the final word about us. We belong to the God who receives us in grace.
The Manifest Presence of God
Scripture assures us that God is always present. “Where can I go from your spirit?” the psalmist asks. “Or where can I flee from your presence?” (Psalm 139:7). Yet Scripture also describes particular occasions when God makes his presence known to his people. His glory fills the tabernacle in Exodus 40; Isaiah encounters him in the temple; and at Pentecost, the gathered disciples experience the coming of the Holy Spirit.
These accounts are good and important, especially as they help us distinguish between affirming that God is present everywhere on the one hand and becoming aware of his presence in a particular moment on the other. When Christians speak of God’s manifest presence, they are speaking of this gracious disclosure of his nearness. Worship offers a setting in which we turn toward God with the expectation that he may make himself known to us.
The 2023 Asbury Outpouring in 2023 brought this distinction and a longing to encounter such manifest presence into view. What began in a chapel service continued for sixteen days as people gathered in Hughes Auditorium to pray and worship. Many traveled long distances and waited for hours to join them. They came because they longed for an encounter with the living God.
Of course, the Outpouring was a particular event, and no congregation can arrange for the same experience to happen again. God’s manifest presence cannot be manufactured through music, atmosphere, or the removal of every distraction. Nor is God confined to an auditorium or an extraordinary gathering. Yet the desire that drew people to Hughes was familiar to the church across its history: the desire to meet with God. The Outpouring invited many of us to ask whether we approach ordinary worship with that same expectation.
Worship as Homecoming
The desire to encounter God is bound up with another deep human longing, i.e., the longing to be known and loved. Many people come to worship carrying loneliness, disappointment, or a diminished sense of belonging. Some have been hurt by the very communities in which they hoped to find welcome. In this context, the promise of God’s presence is more than an abstract assurance but speaks to the longing for a place where we can come as we are and be received in love.
Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son gives us a vivid image of that kind of welcome. The son returns home uncertain of how he will be received, but his father sees him while he is still far away and runs to meet him. The son’s homecoming begins with the father’s gracious and loving character and his desire to be present with his son.
Worship can be understood in a similar way. We come before God with all that we carry and discover that he has already come toward us in grace and mercy. We hear again the story of his faithfulness. We confess our sins and receive the promise of forgiveness. We join our voices with others and remember that we have been gathered into a people. At the Lord’s Table, we receive the grace of Christ, who gives himself for us.
To call worship a homecoming, then, is to say it is meant to be more than a service that offers comfort or a sense of belonging. Instead, it is an encounter with the God who welcomes us into communion with himself and with one another. In his presence, we are reminded who we are and whose we are.
Making Room to Meet with God
Those who plan and lead worship have a responsibility to help their congregations attend to worship as a meeting between God and his people. We gather with the expectation that God may make his presence known to us, drawing us into deeper communion with him and with one another. This expectation changes the questions we ask when planning a service: Do our postures, practices, and patterns help the congregation recognize and respond to God’s presence? Do our songs and prayers give people language for praise, confession, lament, and thanksgiving? Does the reading and preaching of Scripture invite them to hear and answer God’s Word? Are we making room for silence as well as speech, for receiving as well as offering? These questions concern more than the shape of a single service; they concern the kind of worshippers we are helping people become.
Over time, such worship forms people who come prepared to offer themselves to God and receive his grace. We can cultivate expectancy by reminding people that God is present and active among them. We can shape services so that prayers, songs, readings, preaching, and silence draw attention to Christ. And we can model attentiveness ourselves, listening for the Spirit rather than treating each element of worship as something to complete before moving to the next.
This work also calls for trust in the practices Christians have received through the centuries and how God meets us in and through them. The church has gathered around Scripture, prayer, praise, confession, and the Eucharist through seasons of renewal and seasons that felt quite ordinary. In these familiar acts, we learn to listen for God’s Word, bring our whole lives before him, and receive the grace Christ offers his people. Their value does not depend on whether each gathering feels extraordinary. God has met his people through these practices across generations, often in ways that become clear only as their lives are shaped by them over time. We cannot use them to summon or control God’s presence, but can only return to them with faith, trusting that the God who has promised to be with his people will meet us there.
Mother Teresa’s answer to Dan Rather returns us to the heart of the matter. In prayer, she listened and knew herself to be heard. In worship, the church does the same, though never in silence alone. We sing, speak, listen, confess, and come to the Eucharist because we believe the living God meets his people and wants to be with them. Whether his nearness comes with extraordinary intensity or through the steady grace of familiar words and actions, worship invites us to turn regularly and continually toward the One who has turned toward us in Christ.
Jonathan Powers is the Associate Professor of Worship Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, KY and the Editor-in-Chief for Good News magazine.
