by Jonathan Powers | Aug 4, 2026 | Uncategorized
Academies of Life
by Stephen Rankin
The philosopher and spiritual writer, Dallas Willard, of blessed memory, wrote the following exhortation in the introduction to his book, The Spirit of the Disciplines: “Our local assemblies must become academies of life as it was meant to be.” That phrase, “academies of life,” stimulates some thought.
What comes to mind when you think of an academy? Probably books and classrooms. The word “academic” conjures up images of tree-lined campuses and ivy-covered buildings, with erudite lectures and knots of students bent over books in the library, feverishly keying notes into their laptops, prepping for tests.
Willard joins “academies” with “life.” This is a crucial connection. Academies of life. Not book learning in isolation, but learning that is essential, existential, in our hearts, our guts, our bodies. Learning that matters in daily circumstances with all the joys and sorrows that, learning that makes us wise, gives us perspective, that holds us steady and makes us helpful to other people in their struggles. Learning that is not simplistic, not “dumbed down,” but adequate and continually refreshing as we negotiate life.
It’s one of the reasons I find Willard’s admonition intriguing. He served as a professor of philosophy at the University of Southern California for four decades and embodied so many of the qualities that we imagine college faculty embody, sometimes in stereotypical ways. He was an expert on Edmund Husserl, a German mathematician and philosopher well-known in modern intellectual circles as the father of modern phenomenology. You don’t get more “philosophical” than that.
At the same time, according to Willard’s biographer, he was an exacting and compassionate teacher who gave countless hours one-on-one to his students. About any time of the day, if you came to his hopelessly cluttered office, you’d find him engaged in probing conversation with a student. And they were not simply talking “philosophy.” They were discussing life. All of us have been in such conversations, but perhaps didn’t realize how truly philosophical they are, or how much they depend on substantive ideas.
Given the stereotypes about college professors, it may be a surprise that this demanding philosophy professor is best known in Christian circles for his work on the spiritual disciplines. I mentioned one such title already. There are others, like The Renovation of the Heart or The Divine Conspiracy. And if you haven’t heard of Willard, I’ll bet you have heard of Richard Foster and Celebration of Discipline. Foster was the John Mark Comer of his generation and he and Willard were extremely close. Iron definitely sharpened iron in their relationship.
In several pieces that I’ve written recently for Good News, I’ve been Johnny One Note, harping on the need to recognize that our intellectual lives live organically in our spiritual lives. The two domains cannot be separated. Ideas that you have gained through some form of study (reading, listening, discussing) directly contribute not only to how you think about a given topic, but also how you feel and respond. To think is to experience.
So much of what late-modern Christian culture says about the Christ life is easy to manage – the five-minute devotionals and the “Let’s have a quick prayer” moments and the six-week Bible studies with fill-in-the-blank answers. In truth, they demand next to nothing from us and they leave us unchanged. Jesus said that if we want life, we’ll go through the narrow gate, and take the hard way, not the wide, easy way (Matthew 7:13-14). Of course, he wasn’t’ talking about taking a theology class, but it is nonetheless true that, to follow Jesus requires serious intellectual engagement with him. Who is it that we’re following? What did he come to do? Is he mainly a teacher, sage, and prophet, or is he God Incarnate, who takes away the sins of the world? The answer matters. What we think about him shapes how we follow him. And you can’t answer such questions reliably without getting into some deep theological waters.
We need, therefore, exactly what Willard advocates. We need our assemblies (our local churches) to become academies of life.
For a long time, I have been meditating on how, in the early generation of the church, converts to the Christian faith were catechized into the faith. What sort of learning did they undertake? One example is the catechetical school in Alexandria, Egypt, led by the great scholar of the ancient church, Origen. A catechetical school was where converts studied, fasted, and prayed, in preparation to receive Christian baptism and enter fully into the life of the Body of Christ. I’ve read that the curriculum in this catechetical school could be thought of as akin to a solid university education for that day.
In those days, when outsiders were trying to figure out what this new religion was, one of the points of comparison was with the philosophical schools that existed. They were schools of wisdom for life. No division between “the academic” and “the practical” existed. To study with a philosopher was to deepen one’s understanding of life’s meaning, to think about and practice what makes a good life. To study in a philosophical school meant to undertake the disciplines that led to true happiness.
In that catechetical school in Alexandria, new believers in Christ experienced the same sort of process. They knew that they were entering into a radically new way of living. They learned the scriptures. They faced the intellectual challenges of the day. They understood that, all around them were people who found their faith alternatively ridiculous and terrifying. To live well in such a world required both intellectual substance and the disciplines or means of grace of Christian piety.
The catechetical school was an academy for life, just as Willard exhorted us to try. We need the serious, systematic, careful, detailed experience of intellectual engagement with the rich resources of the church. We need to drink deeply from the well of our Christian theological tradition to develop a faith adequate for the times, that enables us to live with joy and confidence so that we can be a true blessing to others.
What if local churches were to take up this call to become academies for life? What if our church libraries became lively gathering places for people to read and think and ponder and discuss and try? What if our middle school and high school kids could go to any number of the grown-ups in their church (not just the pastor or youth leader) and ask the hard questions that they’re thinking about but afraid to ask? What would it do for their faith? What would it do for ours?
May God grant us the grace to take up Willard’s challenge. May our local assemblies become true academies for life.
Stephen Rankin is the Contributing Editor for Good News Magazine.
by Jonathan Powers | Jul 22, 2026 | Uncategorized
Worship That Brings Christ into Focus: What Robert Webber Can Still Teach Evangelicals about the Meaning and Practice of Christian Worship
By Jonathan A. Powers
Most of us who wear eyeglasses do not think much about them until they stop helping us see. A prescription that once brought the world into focus can gradually become inadequate. The glasses may still look fine, and they may even be stylish, but if they no longer help us see clearly, they are not serving their purpose.
Christian worship works in much the same way. It is like a pair of glasses that brings Jesus Christ into focus. Through Scripture, prayer, song, preaching, sacrament, and the shared actions of God’s people, worship helps the Church see again who Christ is and what Christ has done. When worship becomes distorted by personal preference, cultural pressure, or a fixation on style, Christ can begin to blur at the center. We may still gather, we may still sing, and we may still call what we are doing worship, but we can lose sight of the One around whom Christian worship is ordered.
Few twentieth-century evangelical thinkers understood this danger more clearly than Robert E. Webber. Webber is often remembered as the father of the “ancient-future” worship movement and as an advocate of “blended” worship. Both descriptions are accurate, but neither fully captures the heart of his work. Webber was not primarily interested in making evangelical worship older, more formal, or more aesthetically interesting. Rather, his great concern was that worship proclaim Jesus Christ and invite the whole congregation to participate in his saving story.
Searching for Something More
Webber’s concern grew from his own worship journey. Born in 1933 to missionary parents, he spent his earliest years in the Belgian Congo. His childhood faith centered on evangelism, conversion, and the call to bring people to Christ. After his family returned to the United States, that same emphasis continued in the Baptist churches of his youth. Worship typically moved toward a decisive moment: the altar call, a conversion, a rededication, or a call to missionary service.
Webber never abandoned the evangelical conviction that people need a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Over time, however, he became uneasy with worship that seemed designed chiefly to produce a decision. He later recalled a revival service in which an evangelist extended the invitation through emotional appeals, threats, and repeated verses of “Just as I Am.” When no one responded, the evangelist angrily declared that the opportunity was over. For Webber, the moment exposed the danger of confusing the work of the Holy Spirit with human manipulation.
He then encountered another model of evangelical worship, one centered on education. In this approach, the sermon became the “main dish” of the service. Worship was organized around explaining biblical truth and giving the congregation something intellectually substantial. Webber valued faithful preaching, but he eventually found this model inadequate too. Christianity could become a system to explain and defend rather than a life with God to enter and embody. In his own words, the story had become lost to him.
The turning point came in 1972, when Webber attended an Easter Vigil at a Roman Catholic church in Wheaton, Illinois. He entered a darkened sanctuary, joined a candlelit procession, listened as the great story of salvation unfolded through Scripture, witnessed baptisms, and shared in the celebration of the Eucharist. For the first time, he did not experience the resurrection merely as a doctrine to affirm. Through the words and actions of worship, he felt drawn into the movement from darkness to light, from death to life.
That service did not make Webber less evangelical. It helped him imagine a fuller evangelical worship, one that joined biblical proclamation and personal encounter with the historic practices of the Church.
More Than “Traditional” and “Contemporary”
Webber began studying the worship of the early Christians, especially the first several centuries of the Church. He found patterns that had endured across time: the reading and proclamation of Scripture, prayer, baptism, the Lord’s Supper, the Christian year, creedal confession, and the active participation of the gathered community. He became convinced that these practices could renew evangelical worship, not because everything old is automatically good, but because the historic practices of the Church have repeatedly helped Christians proclaim and inhabit the gospel.
This conviction eventually led Webber to speak of “ancient-future” worship, a phrase that is sometimes misunderstood. For Webber, ancient-future worship was not an attempt to recreate a service from the fourth century, nor was it a nostalgic retreat from the contemporary world. Instead, Webber wanted churches to retrieve the wisdom of the past and embody it faithfully in the present. The historic content of Christian worship could take fresh cultural forms, so long as those forms served the gospel and encouraged the congregation’s participation.
That is also what Webber meant by “blended” worship. He was not proposing a service in which the congregation sings two hymns for one generation and two praise choruses for another. Webber’s blend went much deeper than musical selection. He hoped to bring together the theological depth and sacramental awareness of liturgical renewal with the immediacy, participation, and expectancy found in Pentecostal and charismatic worship. Style mattered, but it remained a servant of something greater.
For Webber, the real question was never simply, “Should worship be traditional or contemporary?” The better questions were: Does this worship proclaim the saving work of God in Jesus Christ? Does it engage the whole congregation? Does it connect us to the Church across time and space? Does it form us to live as Christ’s people in the world?
Liturgical Recapitulation
The heart of the practical worship theology Webber developed and promulgated throughout his career can best be described as a “liturgical recapitulation.” While the language sounds technical, the idea is straightforward. To recapitulate is to gather something up and bring it back to its proper center. Webber believed evangelical worship needed to be gathered up again around the person and work of Jesus Christ.
This was grounded in Webber’s understanding of Christus Victor: Christ has entered the brokenness of creation, defeated sin and death through his cross and resurrection, and begun the renewal of all things. The gospel, therefore, is more than a private assurance that my soul will go to heaven. It is the announcement that Jesus Christ is Lord and that, through him, God is restoring his creation.
For Webber, worship tells this story again and again. Yet it does more than convey information about past events. The Church remembers Christ’s saving work in ways that invite us to participate in it. In baptism, we are joined to Christ’s death and resurrection. At the Eucharist we give thanks for his victory and share in the life he gives. Through the Christian year, we inhabit the great movements of his story, from expectation and incarnation, to cross, resurrection, ascension, and the gift of the Spirit. Through Scripture, sermon, prayer, song, and creed, we learn to see the world through the gospel.
Webber’s liturgical recapitulation approach can be summarized through four inter-related convictions:
First, worship should be historically rooted. The Church does not begin with us, and faithful worship does not need to be invented from scratch each week. The historic Church offers a treasury of practices that can anchor us when cultural fashions change.
Second, worship should possess a narrative quality. Every element should serve the story of God’s saving work, which reaches its center in Jesus Christ. Worship is not primarily the story of our feelings, needs, or aspirations. It is God’s story, into which our lives are graciously gathered.
Third, worship requires participatory engagement. The congregation is not an audience watching religious professionals perform. The people pray, sing, listen, confess, respond, come to the Eucharist, and are sent into the world. Worship is the work of the whole people of God.
Fourth, worship should nurture a genuinely evangelical experience. Webber did not want to eliminate personal encounter or emotion from worship; he wanted to reorient experience toward the living Christ. The goal is not to manufacture a certain feeling or experience but to encounter Christ through the gospel and be transformed by his grace.
These four convictions belong together. Historic practices without the story of Christ can become empty ritual. Narrative without participation can remain abstract information. Participation without theological depth can become activity for its own sake. Experience without roots can be governed by whatever feels powerful in the moment. Webber sought a worship in which history, story, participation, and experience converge around Jesus.
Webber’s Continuing Challenge
Webber’s work was not without limitations. His historical retrieval could be selective, and his account of early Christian worship sometimes suggested more uniformity than the historical evidence supports. His work also needs to be expanded through fuller engagement with the Holy Spirit and with the worship of global and minority Christian communities. In addition, an emphasis on Christ’s victory should never cause the Church to hurry past the suffering and sacrifice of the cross. The risen Christ is the crucified Christ.
Nevertheless, Webber’s central challenge remains urgent. Evangelical worship is still tempted to organize itself around the consumer, the platform, the personality, the impressive sermon, the musical brand, or the felt needs of the moment. Churches still divide over style while giving too little attention to the theological content and formative power of their worship. We can become so concerned with whether people enjoyed the service that we fail to ask whether they encountered the gospel.
Webber gives us a better question: Does our worship bring Jesus Christ into focus?
If it does, people will see more than a satisfying religious event. They will see the One who became flesh, bore the cross, conquered the grave, ascended in glory, and will come again to make all things new. They will not merely hear Christ’s story; they will find themselves within it. They will be gathered as his Body, nourished by his grace, and sent to join his mission in the world.
Ultimately, Webber’s ultimate goal was not simply to help churches plan better worship services. Instead, he wanted to help the Church form better worshipers, people whose lives proclaim the victory of Jesus Christ long after the final song has ended.
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.
by Jonathan Powers | Jul 13, 2026 | Uncategorized
Bearing the Name of Christ
by Pastor Omar
There are moments in ministry that remind us how desperately the world longs for hope. Living and serving in the Middle East has provided many such moments. They do not always occur in dramatic settings. More often they happen over a shared meal, while drinking tea with a neighbor, or during an ordinary conversation with someone who quietly asks questions about Jesus that they have carried for years. These encounters serve as a constant reminder that behind every face is a person created in the image of God, someone for whom Christ died, and someone who may never hear the gospel unless a believer is willing to speak.
In many parts of the world, sharing the gospel carries significant risks. There are places where openly professing Christ can cost a person friendships, employment, family relationships, or even personal safety. Yet it is precisely in these settings that the words of Jesus take on renewed clarity: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8). Notice that Jesus did not present witnessing as an optional ministry reserved for a select few. He described it as the natural vocation of every disciple empowered by the Holy Spirit.
Too often, however, Christians have come to believe that evangelism belongs primarily to pastors, missionaries, or professional ministry leaders. We applaud those who travel across the globe, support them financially, pray for their work, and rejoice when we hear stories of lives transformed by the gospel. All of these are important expressions of partnership in God’s mission. Yet there remains a subtle temptation to assume that because someone else has answered the missionary call, our own responsibility has somehow diminished.
The New Testament simply does not permit such thinking.
Before His ascension, Jesus entrusted His followers with what has come to be known as the Great Commission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19–20). These words were not spoken exclusively to future missionaries. They were given to the Church. Every generation of believers inherits this commission, and every disciple shares in its responsibility.
The Apostle Peter reinforces this truth by reminding ordinary Christians that they are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). Our identity and our mission are inseparable. We have been saved not merely to enjoy the blessings of redemption but to proclaim the Redeemer Himself.
Serving in the Middle East has repeatedly illustrated this reality. Many people here have never opened a Bible. Some have only heard distorted descriptions of Christianity through history, politics, or cultural misunderstandings. Others have met very few followers of Christ personally. For many, the first meaningful encounter with Christianity comes not through a sermon or a church service but through the life of a faithful believer who demonstrates kindness, integrity, humility, and genuine love.
This should not surprise us. Jesus Himself declared, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). Our lives often become the first testimony others encounter before they ever hear our words.
Yet witness involves more than exemplary conduct alone. While compassion opens doors, the gospel itself must eventually be spoken. Paul asks a series of penetrating questions in Romans 10: “How are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?” (Romans 10:14). The implication is unmistakable. People cannot respond to a message they have never received.
This does not mean every conversation must become a theological debate or that every Christian must possess extensive apologetic training. Faithful witness often begins with something much simpler: sharing how Christ has transformed one’s own life, offering to pray with someone in a moment of need, extending forgiveness when wronged, demonstrating compassion toward the lonely, or gently explaining the hope that sustains us through suffering.
Peter encourages believers, “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence” (1 Peter 3:15–16). The manner of our witness matters as much as its content. The gospel is never advanced through coercion, arrogance, or hostility. It is shared through truth spoken in love, with humility and deep respect for those made in God’s image.
One of the great privileges of ministry in the Middle East is witnessing how the Holy Spirit prepares hearts long before any missionary arrives. Conversations that seem accidental often reveal years of spiritual searching. Questions emerge that no one could have anticipated. Individuals who appear entirely uninterested in Christianity sometimes become the most eager students of Scripture. Again and again we are reminded that conversion is ultimately God’s work, not ours. This realization is profoundly freeing.
Too often Christians hesitate to share their faith because they fear rejection or worry they will not know how to answer every question. Yet Scripture never places the burden of conversion upon believers. Our responsibility is faithfulness; God’s responsibility is transformation. Paul captured this beautifully when writing to the Corinthians: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (1 Corinthians 3:6). Some believers plant seeds. Others nurture growing faith. Still others have the privilege of witnessing someone embrace Christ. Every role matters because every role participates in God’s work.
The Church must resist the temptation to measure evangelistic success only by visible results. Faithfulness cannot always be quantified. Many conversations bear fruit years later. Some seeds lie dormant until circumstances awaken spiritual hunger. Others may never produce visible results during our lifetime. Yet none of these outcomes diminish the importance of obedient witness.
Indeed, some of the earliest Christians understood this reality well. They proclaimed Christ despite persecution, imprisonment, and even death. Their confidence rested not in favorable circumstances but in the risen Lord who had conquered death itself. Their witness transformed the ancient world precisely because they believed the gospel was worth every sacrifice. That same conviction is desperately needed today.
Western culture increasingly encourages Christians to privatize faith, treating religious belief as something deeply personal but rarely discussed publicly. While wisdom and discernment are certainly necessary, silence can never become our default posture. Jesus warned, “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid… let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14, 16). Light fulfills its purpose only when it shines.
Likewise, Paul reminds believers that God “has entrusted the message of reconciliation to us” and therefore “we are ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:19–20). Ambassadors do not represent themselves. They faithfully represent the one who sent them. Every Christian, regardless of occupation, education, or stage of life, serves as Christ’s representative wherever God has placed them. That means our mission field may look different from someone else’s, but we all have one.
For some, it is the workplace. For others, it is a university campus, a neighborhood, a local coffee shop, or a family gathering. Parents disciple children. Students influence classmates. Retirees invest in younger generations. Business owners shape workplace cultures. Every believer occupies spaces where the gospel can be faithfully embodied and proclaimed.
It is easy to admire stories from distant mission fields while overlooking the opportunities God places directly before us each day. Yet the same Holy Spirit who empowers believers serving in the Middle East also empowers Christians serving faithfully in their own communities. Geography changes; the mission does not.
The Church has always grown through ordinary believers who understood that following Jesus necessarily includes bearing witness to Him. The spread of Christianity throughout history has depended not only upon famous evangelists or celebrated missionaries but upon countless unnamed disciples whose quiet faithfulness introduced friends, neighbors, coworkers, and family members to Christ.
Perhaps that is exactly how God intends His kingdom to advance.
As we look at the needs of our world, it is tempting to believe someone else will carry the message. Surely another church will reach that neighborhood. Surely another missionary will go to that nation. Surely another Christian will speak to that coworker. Yet every time we assume someone else will act, we risk neglecting the very opportunity God has entrusted to us.
The question is not whether the Church has been commissioned to witness. That question has already been answered by Christ Himself. The question is whether each of us will personally embrace that calling.
We need not fear because we do not go alone. The Great Commission concludes with one of Scripture’s greatest promises: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). The One who sends us also accompanies us. The Holy Spirit continues to empower ordinary believers to accomplish extraordinary work through simple acts of faithful obedience.
May we therefore refuse the comfort of passive Christianity. May we pray intentionally for opportunities to share Christ. May we live lives worthy of the gospel we proclaim. May our compassion reflect His heart, our words communicate His truth, and our actions point unmistakably to His grace.
Whether serving across the world or across the street, every follower of Jesus has been entrusted with the same sacred calling: to bear witness to the Savior who has redeemed us.
So let us not wait for someone else to tell the story of Jesus. Let us tell it ourselves. Let us bear His name with humility, courage, and love. Let us speak of the hope that has transformed our lives. And let us remember that every conversation, every act of kindness, every prayer offered in faith, and every faithful testimony may become the means by which another person encounters the living Christ.
The harvest is still plentiful. The gospel is still the power of God for salvation (Romans 1:16). The Holy Spirit is still at work. The question is simple: Will we be His witnesses?
Pastor Omar is a pseudonym used to protect the identity of a Christian missionary serving in a sensitive region of the Middle East. Because of the nature of his ministry and the security risks faced by local believers and gospel workers, his real name and identifying details have been withheld. He continues to serve faithfully among communities where following and sharing Christ often comes at significant personal cost.
by Jonathan Powers | Jul 7, 2026 | Uncategorized
Spiritual Leverage
by Mike Powers
Katherine Lee Bates was inspired to write the poem America the Beautiful after a visit to Pikes Peak in 1893 in a covered wagon with fellow teachers from Colorado College. Little did she know that those words would become one of the most patriotic songs in the history of our country. As we celebrate the 250th birthday of our nation, America the Beautiful is being sung with passion and pride in concerts, churches and ballparks across the land as a tribute to the highest ideals of our nation. The refrain is a supplication for God’s intervention:
“America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!”
Contemplating the familiar words of this refrain, one must wonder why should God shed His grace upon our country and crown our goodness with brotherhood? This is a proper prayer and noble notion, but as inspiring as these words may be, are they taken seriously? An adage goes, “Methodists don’t tell lies; they sing them.” When Americans sing America the Beautiful with such devotion and passion, do we sincerely desire the intervention of God’s Spirit and seriously yearn for unity across our nation or are these merely words we mindlessly sing in church on national holidays?
We also may ask why we dare to ask God to be gracious to the United States of America? We obviously need such an infusion of divine benevolence, but are we trustworthy of such gifts? Another adage advises, “Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it.” Jesus stated it very bluntly: “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted much, much more will be asked” (Luke 12:48, NIV). According to Jesus, we are stewards of grace, responsible for all the blessings God has lavishly shared with us.
The Experience of God’s Grace
Upon whom, therefore, is the grace of God shed? The biblical answer is quite simple.
But he gives us more grace. That is why the Scripture says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).
He mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble and oppressed (Proverbs 3:34).
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time (1 Peter 5:6).
He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way (Psalm 25:9).
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted (Luke 14:11).
Note the common thought in these verses: humility is spiritual leverage. Humility is the catalyst, a means of grace, the very power of God for the spiritual transformation of the individual, the church and the nation. The Word of God consistently decrees that God sheds his grace upon the humble. On the other hand, God resists, ignores, and opposes the proud. Pride is spiritual sabotage. Nothing hinders the presence of God and destroys human relationships (community) more quickly or completely than being self-serving, self-seeking, self-willing, self-satisfying. If we are serious when we petition God to shed his grace upon our nation, our communities, our churches, our families, ourselves, we choose the path of humility – God’s will, first and foremost.
Thy love divine hath led us in the past;
in this free land with thee our lot is cast;
be thou our ruler, guardian, guide and stay,
thy Word our law, thy paths our chosen way.
—Daniel C. Roberts (1876)
The Expression of God’s Grace
The Christian life has been explained as a heartbeat, the rhythmic expansion and contraction of the arteries as the heart pumps blood through the body. Which activity is more important: expansion as blood flows into the heart or contraction when blood is sent out of the heart? That rhythm of blood flowing in and then being pushed out is our lifeline. Both, of course, are needed to be healthy and alive.
Likewise, the normal, healthy Christian life is an experience and an expression of grace. Humility is the leverage point for a healthy heart spiritually.
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves. Philippians 2:3
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Colossians 3:12
He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8
In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus; who, being in the very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross. Philippians 2:5-8
If we genuinely desire to experience the grace of God and responsibly, as stewards, express our desire to be a “brotherhood” (an authentic, healthy, growing, loving community), it begins by having the heartbeat and mind of Christ who came to serve and not be served. Such humility gives leverage to grace in the daily stuff of life, beginning with our loved ones who are close and extending across our spheres of influence. God’s grace is shed generously through the Christlike attitude of valuing all others above ourselves. Another adage, popularized by President Harry Truman, goes: “It is amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets the credit.” God is ready and willing and able to shed his grace upon anyone and everyone who is ready and willing to humble themselves.
Impossible? Too naïve? Simplistic? Unrealistic? Several thousand years of human history confirm that humility is the road much less traveled while Scripture reveals that God’s ways are contrary to human wisdom. Jesus’ life and words affirm that true greatness is demonstrated in humble service. The apostle Paul noted, “God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” (I Corinthians 1:27).
An Example of God’s Grace: Radical Humility
Every now and then there is a clear witness of the reality of spiritual leverage. God shows up, and through a person or an event, we experience an uplift of grace. Many of us were blessed to observe such a moment at the Outpouring on the campus of Asbury University in February 2023.
Spontaneous revivals have occurred often throughout the years of Asbury University (College). Many books and articles have been written as scholars, Christian leaders, sociologists, et al have sought to understand and explain these spiritually awakening experiences. The availability to announce this latest movement of the Holy Spirit at Asbury across the world immediately on the internet created a phenomenon quite different from previous revivals when the communication and impact of the awakening were much slower. Within hours, thousands of people gathered in Wilmore from across the nation and around the world to experience God’s Presence in Hughes Auditorium and other venues provided for the overflow.
Almost as rapidly, skeptics questioned the legitimacy of this remarkable experience as an authentic spiritual “revival.” Several called for its excitement to be tempered and its value to be validated in terms of social justice and cultural transformation. I regret that these critics were posting comments from afar, having not been on campus nor engaged personally with anyone on site. As one who was present and involved with seekers and believers in Hughes Auditorium, the confirmation of the Spirit’s presence and power that I observed during the Outpouring can best be expressed in two words often repeated by others during those two weeks: radical humility. The authenticity, transparency, and vulnerability of the students broke our hearts as we heard their confessions, saw their brokenness, felt their pain, admired their honesty, and celebrated their joy as they humbled themselves before the Lord. Their radical humility was spiritual leverage for more than a college campus in a small town in Kentucky. As noted, thousands upon thousands of people descended on Wilmore with their brokenness, pain, and desperation. Students from other colleges arrived from all over the nation. People of all ages dared to fully surrender their lives and wholly follow the Lord. Eventually, they journeyed home with peace, hope and unalloyed joy, stewards of God’s grace shed abroad in their hearts. But he gives us more grace. That is why the Scripture says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). He mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble and oppressed (Proverbs 3:34). The legitimacy of the Outpouring continues to be affirmed through radically humble souls who have become a means of grace to a world desperately needing an uplift.
If we are serious when we sing patriotic songs, properly asking God to shed his grace upon us, and pledge our allegiance to become one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all, the leverage point is right there in front of us: Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time (1 Peter 5:6). Our greatness as a nation can never be determined nor adequately measured by our might or power, personalities or political proclivities. God will raise us up only at the point of truthfulness, obedience, faithfulness and radical humility. That begins with us who claim his name.
If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and heal their land (2 Chronicles 7:14).
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 | Jun 29, 2026 | Uncategorized
The Spiritual Consequences of Intellectual Impatience
by Stephen Rankin We live in a society that assumes that faster is (always) better. In the 1950s, computers used vacuum tubes or transistors to process a thousand to several thousand bits of data per second. Today, the micro-processing speed of computers is a billion times faster than seventy years ago. (And yes, since I know next to nothing about computer technology, I used AI to come up with this little tidbit of information.) The Internet functions much faster than it did in the 1990s. And we like it. It seems like a time-saver and saving time is a good thing, right? Not always. Research on the impact of digital technologies on learning has rendered some surprising results. In the classroom, typing notes into a digital device is obviously faster and just seems better for learning than physically writing things down, the way we used to have to do it back in the dark ages. Studies are showing, however, that the physical act of putting a pen or pencil in one’s hand and writing down notes engages a specific area of the brain not activated by keying the exact same information into a device. The physical act of writing helps one to retain content better than typing. There is a specific kind of tactile experience in the physical act of writing that makes a significant difference for learning. The old-fashioned act of writing does more than help us remember. It enhances our capacities for language, which deepens our ability to express our thoughts. Again, the studies show that the tactile act of drawing out the letters gives us an experience of building words into thoughts that typing does not. We need words to understand almost everything about human existence. The better we are at using language, the more capacity we have for understanding others and expressing ourselves. Physically putting pen to paper activates our minds and stimulates a richer awareness of our internal states. These research results have important implications for Christian life. We suffer a kind of intellectual impatience with spiritual consequences. It’s too easy these days for people to seek the desired outcomes, but to assume we can get those outcomes with a foreshortened process. If I can get the right idea and save time doing it, why not? If you’ve read other pieces I’ve recently written, you’ll recognize my underlying assumption, that, to grow spiritually, we need to grow intellectually. The intellect is another word for the understanding. Not many people outside the academy think of using “intellectual” for themselves, but I want to change that tendency. We all need to recognize that, to grow toward maturity requires that we increase in the knowledge and grace of God, as 2 Peter 3:18 says. To grow in knowledge of God is to grow in our understanding of God’s nature and ways. To grow in understanding is to grow intellectually. It’s an absolute must for Christians to grasp this truth. True understanding so important in Christian discipleship is more than simple cognitive grasp. One common way to put the matter calls to mind the adage about the need for gospel knowledge to travel the eighteen inches from the head to the heart. I confess, I don’t love this old saying because it assumes a separation between head and heart that doesn’t exist, but it does make the point I’m trying to make. Much of the problematic shallowness in Christian discipleship afflicting the church these days seems to me to be analogous to keying words into a digital device rather than writing them out physically. It yields a degree of learning, but it doesn’t produce the results of spiritual maturity we find inscribed in scripture. Why? Because, under the influence of “faster is (always) better,” we are predisposed to a vexing intellectual impatience. But most of the Christian faith is slow. It is analogous to putting that pen between your fingers and thumb and scrawling out the letters. If we accept that the time-consuming work of learning is best served by the slower but more effective physical acts of writing over typing, then we can accept the reality and necessity of the time-consuming work of Christian discipleship. It is daily. It requires practice, persistence, and a degree of discipline that goes beyond what most of us think is necessary. It demands close attention, tackling topics that are complex and multi-faceted, with shades of meaning that cannot be overlooked if we want to draw near the truth. This process takes time. There is something deeply satisfying about the experience of learning, once we accept that most of us need to slow down, once we, enabled by God’s grace, bend our wills to the truth that Christian growth just takes time. It’s worth every bit of time that it takes. But, of course, getting to this point of acceptance is not easy. It’s much easier to succumb to our impatience and to keep hurrying through those spare times we do devote to study for spiritual growth. Recognize this temptation for what it is. It’s the devil’s deception to think that you can skip the effort and get the result.
Stephen Rankin is the Contributing Editor for Good News Magazine.
