Earlier this week, Covenant Christian School in Nashville suffered an act of unthinkable violence at the hands of a shooter who, though biologically female, had posted information publicly that suggested that she identified with the trans community and thought of herself as being transgender. And those of us who were not preoccupied with mourning were preoccupied with narrative. 
Some were quick to cast blame for the event on Republican lawmakers in Tennessee who had refused to put curbs on weapons, while putting legal restrictions on things like underage medical transitioning and drag shows. At a protest at the Tennessee Statehouse, a combination of gun control and transgender activists pointedly raised seven fingers: “seven fingers, seven victims,” making the shooter out to be more martyr than perpetrator.
But, on the other end of the spectrum, a lot of Christians and conservatives were quick to jump to some conclusions that no available evidence supports. There are reports that the shooter left behind a “manifesto” and we’ve been left to imagine what sorts of things it might contain. But we don’t know. And the surmise that the shooter may have begun taking testosterone as part of a medical transitioning regimen, a development which could partially account for the remarkably aggressive behavior from someone who’d never demonstrated it before, began to be reported by Christians as a matter of (unsubstantiated) fact. 
The whole thing is deeply unsettling and polarizing and none of us have any confidence in the media or authorities to fairly and accurately report the facts, and the media and authorities have no confidence in us to fairly and accurately interpret the facts they report. It’s an ugly and cynical impasse.
And it is even more fraught for us locally because of the VPA’s much publicized decision to exclude Mid Vermont Christian School from all VPA sponsored athletic and academic events going forward because of their decision to forfeit a women’s basketball game against an opponent who was going to have a transgender athlete on the court. This is close to home for those of us who graduated from Mid Vermont or who attend or work at Rutland Area Christian school.
Our church is committed to orthodox teaching on gender and sexuality and to being a warm and welcoming community for everyone who needs a personal relationship with Jesus. We’ve been doing our best to thread a very fine line with Spirit led deftness. But it is feeling increasingly likely that things will come to a head at some point, despite our preference for peace.
So what are we to do?

1. Spend time in prayer, cultivate wisdom, and get close to Jesus.
2. Tell the truth, and only the truth, and only such truth as edifies. Avoid memes and snark.
3. Learn. Do you know what a “TERF” is? I didn’t a week ago. I recently took some advice and began listening to the podcast, “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling” and, boy oh boy. There’s so much I didn’t know. One of my big takeaways so far: if you are a smart person who would like to drop your objections to the transgender movement, there are a lot of voices in the transgender movement who are more compelling and reasonable sounding than I would have thought. For content that is wise, informed, and shares our convictions, I would recommend material from the Center for Faith, Sexuality, and Gender. 
4. Talk to your children. A lot. They could get hours and hours of discipleship into the trangender movement from tiktoks to TEDtalks before you’ve gotten a word in edgewise.
5. Let the chips fall where they may, but don’t be the one to do the chipping. Be emotionally prepared for your principles to get costly. A certain amount of resignation is probably wise, but don’t court disastrous fights. Or shrink from them.
6. Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, because the anger of man does not bring about the righteousness of God.
7. Don’t let our perceived disadvantages blind us to the advantages we have. We have the indwelling Holy Spirit and the promise of wisdom on demand. That’s huge.

Let this be a bright hour for the church as we respond to our cultural moment by receiving God’s support, extending God’s grace, and embodying God’s love, with a steadfast adherence to what God has revealed.

​

I recently heard someone say “that a preacher will go across the country to preach a sermon, but won’t go across the street to hear one.” To which I replied “ouch!” I should say that that’s not true of all my colleagues, but it has been too true of me. I’m working on it though. 
During the worst days of the pandemic I decided that there was no reason why I couldn’t worship remotely myself and for an important season I was a regular “attender” at Love Chapel Hill, benefiting each week from Pastor Matt Leroy’s heartfelt and thought provoking messages. It was a godsend.
There’s no way I could be the only preacher you need or the best one you could ever hear. Even if your mom’s a good cook it would be a sad thing to go your whole life without eating something from someone else’s kitchen. 
I expect you to listen to other preachers. I want you to. At least I’m trying to want you to. 
The truth is that other preachers can trigger my insecurities (and that’s particularly true when their churches are close enough that you might be tempted to change your attendance.) It’s hard enough that I compare myself with those other preachers. It’s almost more than I can bear when you’re doing the comparing. So why would I encourage you to cue them up for your next drive home from work? Well, I intend, with God’s help, to overcome my insecurities. And I really am committed to your spiritual edification. And, fundamentally, I know that a lot of the value of my preaching to you is valuable because of my relationship to you. God can do all sorts of things in your life through a sermon preached a lifetime ago and a continent away (I’ve been moved to tears while reading the text of one of John Wesley’s sermons!) But there is something irreplaceable about hearing a sermon preached by someone you know, whose life you’ve been able to examine, and who is bound by the same cultural context in which you live. The real power of some sermons is not in the preaching so much as in the pastoring.
So, yes, I want you to listen to all sorts of other preachers. Well, not all sorts. And that’s the real point of this post. There are some preachers about whom you should be wary, some who are a waste of your time, and some who are far more entertaining than they are edifying. But rather than giving you a list of people you shouldn’t listen to, I’d like to commend some particular preachers to you by curating some suggestions from people I know and trust.

Reverend Abson P. Joseph, PHD, the VP of Academic Affairs at Wesley Seminary says that Steve DeNeff and Christy Lipscomb are some of his favorite preachers. Steve DeNeff showed up again and again as I quizzed Wesleyan pastors and leaders and he’s definitely worth a listen.

Michael Jordan, the Dean of the Chapel at Houghton College says that he thinks some of the best preachers preaching right now are Otis Moss, Tom Long, Crystal Kirgiss, Steve DeNeff, and Alistair Begg. 

Dr. Eastlack, our District Superintendent and Joel’s pastor commends Steve DeNeff.

Pastor Joshua Tate, Pastor Joel’s brother commends a list of preachers who mostly reflect his reformed theological perspective: Toby Logsdon, Ortlund, Dever, Keller, MacArthur, Chan, John Piper, Dane Gordon, and Randy Alcorn. (Josh listens to a lot of preaching!)

Abbey Elliott, our director of Tech ministries listens to a lot of sermons by  Steven Furtick of Elevation Church on her commute.  

Keith Piontek, who was our summer ministry intern this past summer has John Piper for a companion on his long rides from Benson to West Rutland where he teaches. 

And the Wesleyan Pastors Group on Facebook provided these varied responses (with, again, lots and lots of votes for Steve DeNeff)
Kyle Brown, Steven Whitlow, Alistair Begg, Brad Gray, Carmelle Fils-Aime, Jenn Petersen, Damon Richardson, and Andy Stanley. 

None of these pastors are people with whom I would agree all the time and some of them are people that I would frequently disagree with. And I’m not even saying that I trust all of them. Some of the recommendations I’m passing on are of pastors with whom I have only a passing familiarity at best. No, I wouldn’t say I trust them. Or you. Or even myself. But I do have a lot of confidence in the Holy Spirit and the power of the Holy Spirit to make use of these broken vessels. 

So who do you listen to? Are there preachers who you thought should have made this list?

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Our annual Wesley Covenant Service prompted this good question from Lindsay Cote: "Deep question as a response to your testimony today: Can zeal be quiet? Does it have to be "on fire" or can it just be firm and resolved, moving forward according to plan?"
Perhaps you were wondering the same thing. I myself have often felt threatened, insecure, or just "turned off" by the zeal I see in others. So here is my response to Lindsay's question for your consideration.
"That’s a good question, Lindsay, and I grapple with it too. The Greek word “zelos” from which we get the word “zeal” is a word that has to do with heat, and that’s why our English word “zeal” has the connotation of fervency and ardor. Some of the places where it is used in the NT, it is used negatively. So zeal is a matter of passionate intensity. The thing about passionate intensity is that some people are more naturally suited to it than others, and none of us can demonstrate it all the time. In John 2:17 when it says “His disciples remembered that it is written: ‘Zeal for your house will consume me,’” the picture is of someone who opened himself up to holy flame and provided himself for the fuel. That phrase I used, “passionate intensity,” I stole from Yeats. In his poem, The Second Coming, he says at the end of the first stanza that “the best lack all conviction, while the worst / are full of passionate intensity.” It makes you ask, ‘what would the world look like if the people of God were the fervent ones?’ But the quality of steadfastness is also a biblical quality and Paul’s portrait of the idealized Christian life in 1 Thessalonians 4:11 seems incompatible with zeal. So here’s how I’ve come to think of it: you know how the speedometer on your car seems kind of ridiculous when you consider the range of possibility that it suggests? 160 mph?!!! Wise operation of my car would seldom ever give me a reason to go above 80 mph at most, right? But it would be equally unwise for me to allow, through neglect or modification, for my car to be in the condition where it could not exceed 80 mph, or for me to refrain from exceeding 80 when an urgent situation arises. For much of the time my commitment to zeal is not going to be expressed in zealous behavior so much as in a careful cultivation of my capacity for zeal. That being said, as someone with a naturally placid demeanor and an aversion to emotional extremes, I can not hide behind my nature to excuse me from my responsibility to be, in general, a more fervent person."
What do you think? Is zeal a required quality in the life of a believer? And must zeal always be zealous?

A lot of year end content is retrospective and that’s fun. I enjoy critics' lists of the 20 best movies and the 15 best albums and so on. 
But the end of year content that intrigues me the most are the prospective ones, the ones that try to pull back the curtain to take a peek into the future. 
Of course they’re often wildly, laughably wrong. Things written at the end of 2019 about what sort of year 2020 would be make us wince now in retrospect. 
So why bother? For the fun of it, certainly. But also because it’s a valuable exercise. Even if weather forecasting is imprecise and occasionally very wrong, it’s still wise to look at the day’s forecast before getting dressed in the morning. 
So here are some of our best guesses about what the coming year holds for us. 
For Furnace Brook Wesleyan Church:

• Joel’s sabbatical this summer will put some stress on the church, but will result in leadership development and Joel will be revitalized for an important season in the life of the church as we head into the fall.
  
• The biggest milestones in the life of the church in 2023 will be personal things like conversions, baptisms, births, weddings and the like. 
  
• We will need to develop additional worship times and contexts to accommodate increased attendance and participation.
  
• There will be increasing pressure on us to relax our commitment to orthodox Christianity, especially as it pertains to sex and sexuality.
  
• This will be the year that our commitment to orthodoxy begins to cost us in some measurable ways.
  

For the culture:

• The rate of change on things like euthanasia, transgender ideology, drug use and other progressive social movements will accelerate with sad effects.
  
• This will be the year that unforeseen consequences of AI become front page stories with real, human costs.
  
• Churches that continue to use the church growth paradigms from the early 2000’s will continue to see some modest success, but with diminishing returns and their efforts will increasingly be costly to their long term success.
  
• This will be a bad year for celebrity leadership and the organizations that depend on celebrity leaders.
  
• People looking for churches in 2023 will be at least as interested in the church’s relationship to technology as in its politics and doctrine.
  

There’s a bunch of other stuff that I’m thinking about and so much that I don’t know and I didn’t even touch on the geopolitical things that could unfold this year. So let’s wrap this speculation up with some certainty.
Let’s start and end with Jesus, the Alpha and the Omega. Jesus is Lord. He was the Lord of every moment in 2022. His lordship will extend to every moment of the coming year. 
He is powerful to save and people will come to saving faith this year and be baptized so that nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever separate them from the love of God that’s theirs in Christ Jesus. In that respect this year will be no different from every year since Jesus’ resurrection and ascension to the courts of heaven and no different from every coming year until he returns to establish his Kingdom. 
Praise him.

​

At Furnace Brook we are developing a "Rule of Life" to help us grow as disciples of Jesus Christ. For more information on developing your personal rule of life (and to download a helpful pdf with a printable form to fill out) go to this website from our friends at Bridgetown Church. 
This past Sunday we talked about the importance of "abiding" in Jesus and developing those practices that would help us to abide. And Joel rattled off a list of possible practices that you might consider trying out as part of your rule of life, whether on a daily, weekly, monthly, or annual basis.
Here they are in greater detail:
1. Silence. Set a time for 2 minutes or five minutes are go by the calendar (do 12 minutes on the 12th.) Eliminate distractions. Put your phone away. Pray a simple prayer ("Speak Lord, your servant is listening", for instance) then practice a posture of openness to the Spirit until your timer goes off.
2. Sabbath. Be in church on Sunday. Keep the Sabbath holy by treating it differently from other days. Exult in leisure. Once a month or so consider taking an extended Sabbath. 
3. Practice good digital fitness. Set a limit on your screen time. Do some digital fasting. Put your phone away at 8:00pm. 
4. Scripture. Find ways to get scripture content that work for you in your situation. Do you want to follow a rigorous reading plan that gets you through the whole Bible in a year? Do that. Do you want to listen to five minutes of scripture from your phone in the morning? Do that. Do you want to spend a week memorizing one verse? Do that. 
5. Edifying material. There are books to read, podcasts to listen to, sermons to watch on YouTube. Edification seldom happens by accident.
6. Use the Daily Examen.
7.  Use Wesley's Questions for Self Examination.
​8. Employ the Daily Office. 
9. Practice intentional gratitude. Consider doing something like building a gratitude cairn where every rock you place on the cairn represents a thing you are grateful for.

What are some other practices that are part of your rule of life or that you are considering adopting to help you abide in the Lord?

I recently bought a set of dining room chairs at a yard sale, and, honestly, it may have been a mistake. They were already old and well used way back when they went into the storage unit from which they were dragged for this sale. They didn’t cost much at all, but I’m not sure if they were really worth even the little I paid for them. They’re made of walnut and walnut veneer, and the fabric upholstery on the seats is very worn and dated. They’re kind of mid century modern, kind of art deco. Many of the joints are loose, some of the veneer is missing, and all of it will have to be refinished. If we had already had dining room chairs I probably would not even have looked at these. 
But I kind of love them. In fact, the more time I spend on them with their past and potential coming into focus, the more I love them . . . and the more I hate the condition they’re in. 
Shalom, the Hebrew word for “peace,” is freighted with a lot of meaning. It means, at least in part, the proper, complete, perfect ordering of things. You see a set of faded and decrepit chairs on a lawn as an affront to Shalom when you’re shown a picture of the same chairs in their original condition being used by a family at table eating a nourishing meal. That’s when your allegiance to Shalom prompts you to either concede that the chairs are a lost cause and toss them in the fire, or to take up your tools and do what you can to bring the crumbling reality of the chairs in front of you back to what they had been designed to be. My commitment to Shalom and my love for these chairs produces an inescapable tension that can only be resolved through either violence or redemptive work. 
And so it is with Vermont. I’m very happy here in the Green Mountain State, but I would be a lot happier if I had less of an appreciation for Shalom. I kind of wish I was less aware of what a rightly ordered Vermont would look like, or of all the ways that Vermont falls short of that right ordering. But as it is my commitment to Shalom and my love of Vermont produces a tension I feel every day. And that tension demands to be resolved either violently or redemptively. And we will always choose redemption. 

We choose redemption because it is the choice that Jesus made in regard to us. He looked at me and felt the tension I experienced when looking at my "new" set of chairs, except that these chairs are much closer to their ideal state now than I have ever been to mine. But Jesus, loving me, is committed to redeeming me and I will forever be grateful. 
In that spirit, here are five things you can do to love the Vermont that ought to be while living in the Vermont that is.

1. Exchange contact information with a neighbor. The combination of modern life and yankee impulses has an isolating effect. Resist it. Don’t wait until pipes burst for desperate introductions to be made. 
2. Work to oppose Proposition 5. Vermont has a mixed track record on human rights. We are justifiably proud of being the first state to explicitly reject slavery in our state consititution. But we are also the state that went further than any other in our dangerous fascination with eugenics; and we still haven’t come to terms with that evil chapter in our history. If Proposition 5 passes this November that will be even uglier than anything done by the Vermont Commission on Country Life.
3. Volunteer or contribute at a local food shelf. Vermont is an expensive place to live and many of us are struggling to go on living here. 
4. Talk to people about Jesus. And don’t wait until you feel eloquent or have something interesting to say. Jesus himself is more interesting than anything I will ever have to say about him. 
5. Look around and see what needs doing. Fix broken things and clean dirty things. Pick up trash. Eradicate invasives. Plant lovely and productive native plants. Befriend the needy. Train yourself to be someone whose first response to any violation of Shalom is redemptive aspiration and not critical lament.

The following is a guest post from Keith Piontek, our summer ministry intern. Pray for Keith as he starts his full time teaching position at West Rutland Elementary school this fall.
Recently I decided to go for a walk in a nearby place that will not be mentioned because I may have trespassed on someone’s property (oops!). However I did end up in a cornfield and, yes, I mean literally in a cornfield.

It started when I saw a path that led through a long grass field surrounded by forests. I thought of turning around and not taking the risk to carry on…but I couldn’t resist. I just had to see where it led. As I walked along a worn down, but not so maintained, path, I noticed a wall of what looked like poison sumac to my right. I felt the wet tall grass sliding against my bare legs. I also felt some weird soft thing hitting my arms randomly - I was confused at first, but figured it was my hanging backpack straps. 

Then I got to the sea of corn…The little kid inside of me leaped in my heart. I heard him say “Let’s check it out. Let’s walk through a corn field just like in the movies!” 

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to actually walk through a cornfield like in the movies where you see someone running away from something scary. Come to find out, number one, it’s not that easy to walk through a cornfield and, number two, looking at corn up close is like looking at an alien species being born.

The roots come out of the ground like the legs of a tree trunk that decided to attempt to stand up. Really, they just look like giant red and green spider legs sprawled out and bent into the shape of a teepee. When the corn husks start to grow they look like the hair on top of the head of a really hairy alien creature. As if it was just waiting to violently pop its head out and make some out of this world sound at you. 

Then there’s the fact that you are surrounded. The corn is grown in organized rows but very closely together. I happened to find a random place where some stalks were missing and there was an opening wide enough to stand and take a step. Unlike the time I felt when I was on a New York City Subway at 7am, packed like a sardine, and pressed up against the people (strangers) around me (story for another time). Claustrophobic anyone?

Then as I stood there (and began writing this) a fly kept harassing me in my ear. Then my other ear…then my eye…you get it. Then on my way out I saw a beetle in one of the corn leaves and got one of those creepy crawly cold chills. So not only have I stepped foot into a somewhat scary, yet curious, new world but somehow in this new world the flies and bugs still have managed to be the bane of my existence! 

Why do I share this? Who cares about my little story of exploration and curiosity mixed with fear and frustration? This experience is very much likened to my time working for the church this summer.

Like the path I saw that I could tell had been used for ATVs or a prior walking path in the past, but was overgrown and showed reason for caution, I too saw the same “path” laid before me when I was offered this position.

What “path” am I actually referring to? The path to reconnect with other people in the most real, authentic, and organic way. No agendas, plans, or “forcing anything”. Simply embracing the moments with others when given the opportunity fully and with hope. Hope of making some sort of a connection.

In life, there have been those who have walked through the wilderness enough to leave a trail for others to follow, yet not enough people for the trail to look well groomed and easy to tackle. Those people are courageous and they trusted that, despite the realities of the dangers ahead and temptation to allow the fear of those dangers to stop them, they took one step onto the path. They allowed their curiosity and hope to lead the way knowing deep down that there’s got to be something out there worth risking for. That the rewards along the way and at the end are worth it and far outweigh the trials and pain one cannot avoid.

Confession time! I have struggled with a deep sense of loneliness throughout my life. Though I have had many people love me and care about me, I have struggled to allow myself to fully embrace relationships deeper than surface level. I am an extrovert at heart, but my insecurities and fears have choked me, causing me to hide myself from others. I have found much pain and rejection in the past when I tried to be accepted. The rejection seemed to confirm my false beliefs about myself and self worth. I attempted to live “by the rules” of others’ expectations of me. I felt crippled in making decisions for fear of disappointing someone and what that meant about my value to them. So, to say that stepping out to make relationships with others came easy to me seemed to be true to outsiders looking in, but really was the farthest thing from the truth. 

Like the path I walked on in my story though, I have found myself having entered into the sea of corn. Now I have left and have returned to a familiar place I know with a new sense of adventure! Also, with a new sense of confidence and excitement before God that I, too, am a trail-blazer! I simply had to trust Him to lead and protect me and hold onto the hope of His word - believing that anytime you obey God, it will be worth it.

This summer I planned and hosted events, formed relationships, preached, ministered to God and He to me. I began an adventure with God with the goal of becoming a spark that would hopefully ignite a fire. What I did not expect was for that fire to become coals in my heart that slowly smolder every day for Him rather than immediately spreading into the forest around me. I believe that, as some may have heard, God is not in the “efficiency business”. He does not care how we expect Him to do things…He just does as He pleases and we have to accept it whether we like it or not. 

But friends…family…let me encourage you with this: God is in the business of loving, equipping, and empowering you to live a full, abundant, and impactful life! That is what I have found - one step, one day, and one relationship at a time. Slow but sure. Risky? Oh yeah, but with the guarantee that God cares about you AND is ALL POWERFUL and, therefore, able to bring about a prize that far exceeds any expectations you may have. 

    Quality relationships are hard to come by, but the truth is that anything that is worth our energy and time is costly. Anything that is quick and easy will just as quickly fail you. Let me ask you a question: Is the angst in your heart - that feeling that you know there is more…is that feeling beckoning you as it did me? Then I have only 3 words for you…DON’T IGNORE IT. 

    Many of us have found ways to suppress this angst in our souls, one way or the other. I certainly have found many! But I am done running away. I am done settling for something that leaves me dry and empty. I am ready and have had a taste of what my heart has been longing for and I’m not going to stop now!

    If I can take one step at a time as I feel my heart beating out of my chest with anxiety and find that it truly was worth it, then so can you! I welcome you brother and sister - YOU BELONG with God, you belong in this church family…and my dear friend…you certainly belong with me! You are welcome anytime and will NEVER be rejected. And the beautiful thing is…I am not alone in this attitude toward you. Your church family awaits! Take a step, trusting God to see it through and see His goodness! It is not worth the weight of the pain of loneliness! But oh it feels so relieving to finally say “I’m home”, “I belong”, “I am loved”, and “I've found it!”.

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If you love the Lord of life and you love the people made in his image you can not help but rejoice at the news that Roe v. Wade has been overturned. I am certainly rejoicing.
In fact, when I heard the news I was at the church and my first impulse was to get up and go to the belfry and ring the bell until the whole town was curious to know what I was on about.  And you might be wondering why I didn't do it after all. 
I didn't ring the bells because in November we are going to be voting on Proposal 5, the remarkably evil and ill-considered amendment to the State Constitution that would make Vermont a place so radically pro-abortion as to horrify even progressive Europeans. The "dialogue" leading up to that vote is going to be intense and will challenge our commitments to civility. Things will be adversarial enough without me striking a strident note of triumphalism now.
I didn't ring the bells because of Abraham Lincoln's wisdom. 
I didn't ring the bells because this is a beginning on the path to justice. It is a long overdue beginning and it is a beautifully welcome beginning, but it is only a beginning. There are homeless families to house, hungry children to feed, distressed parents to equip, fractured institutions to fortify, and deeply entrenched systems of sin to dismantle.
So, believe me, I'm rejoicing. I'm looking for a baby to hold and anoint with my tears of gratitude. 
But my neighbors and fellow citizens who are upset about this decision are not my enemies. The cause of life to which I am devoted extends to the inclusion of their life too. That means that if you are hurting or perplexed or angry about the Supreme Court's decision I can't pretend to feel the same way (personally, I am jubilant) but I do sympathize with how you're feeling and I'm less interested in being your opponent than I am in being your neighbor. 
God bless you, God bless the unborn, and God bless the United States of America.

A newsletter that I subscribe to recently drew my attention to this article about “man-flu.” If you’re not familiar with the term, it’s used to describe the way in which men’s response to illness is more exaggerated than what you see in women. And men do, in fact, report greater severity of symptoms and longer recovery times than women. But is that because women are stoic and better at enduring pain, or do men experience illness differently?
Increasingly the evidence is suggesting that the difference has to do with testosterone and the way that it suppresses antibody response. It seems that the flu (and many other respiratory illnesses) might actually hit men harder. 
But why? Scientists are always keen to find the evolutionary angle that could account for a development like this and the prevailing hypothesis is that, at a time when the stakes were generally higher, a man who was keenly aware of how a virus had him at a disadvantage would be more likely to stay by the fire than take the huge risk of going on a bear hunt or picking a fight with another man. Engaging in competitive, violent, and physically demanding activities when you are sick can lead to disaster. 
And if this is true about testosterone, it makes as much sense to attribute that feature to the wisdom of a good Creator as to the blind machinations of evolution. So the next time I’m sick I can be a real baby about it and expect for the women in my life to care for me, and if they don’t like it they can take it up with the God who made me, right? Maybe not.
But what does all of this have to do with church?
This is some of what Jesus was getting at when he said that his followers had to be people who “counted the cost.” And being disciplined to count the cost before undertaking something is only helpful if you are accurate in counting the cost. The Russian leadership undoubtedly did an assessment of its strength and of Ukraine's strength before launching an unprovoked attack. But it’s also evident that it did not really understand its own strength relative to that of its opponents or it would have made different decisions than the decisions it made in those fateful days in February. 
Feeling the symptoms of the virus is uncomfortable. Not feeling those symptoms is disastrous. 
We hate, as a church, to be laid low and to feel that the gap between our capacity and our gospel aspirations is too wide to leap across. We want to pick a fight with the forces of darkness in our community, when sometimes it’s all we can do to pull off a successful worship service in the controlled environment of the sanctuary. When chafing at our limitations it is important to remember that the virus is a problem but that the symptoms are a matter of grace.

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Yesterday we were horrified by the news of another school shooting in Texas. And the gut-wrenching sadness of it was immediately compounded by all of the political noise around it. People wasted no time using the event as a hammer for driving the nail of their preferred policy deeper into the "discourse" and offers of "thoughts and prayers" were angrily rejected as being insufficient or hypocritical. It's bad enough that we have to grieve; worse yet that we must face judgment for how we do so. Did you say too much or too little? Was it too public or too private? Were you virtue signaling? Are you permitted even to care if you are not falling along the correct political lines? It's hard. 
And the temptation can be to compartmentalize your grief and to hide from it all. 

Biblical Response to Tragedy
As an alternative to the exhausting way of the world, we’d like to offer you this biblical approach to responding to tragedy.

1. Mourn. It’s a verb, something that you do, and not just a matter of feeling sad. Matthew 5:4, Ecclesiastes 7:2

2. Leave everything private that can safely remain that way. 1 Thessalonians 4:11

3. Say everything that you need to say and nothing that you don’t.
It is a great temptation in the face of tragedy to respond verbally, and some things need to be said. But even the best words do less good than ill-considered words do harm. James 1:19

4. Don’t look for or accept short cuts and easy answers. Nothing good comes of trying to make short what God left long, or easy what God has permitted to be hard. The valley of the shadow of death is, indeed, long and difficult to traverse, but we have a good traveling companion. Psalm 23

5. Your grief can rot into injury or ripen into resolve. Carefully manage your grief, exposing it to the light of the Lord, to see it mature into a greater resolve to bring about the Kingdom of God, the place where the “shalom,” the peaceful, right-ordering of things prevails under God’s lordship.

6. Pray to God and for God. No grief touches us but that it grieves him also. He does not need us and he does not suffer from lack of our prayer. But he loves us and when we pray about a tragedy we have the opportunity to acknowledge the way in which sin and its direct and indirect effects have touched his Father’s heart. This is the spirit in which many of the Psalms might be prayed.

7. Let grace prevail. Look for opportunities to extend and receive grace. The impulse to publicly demonstrate your concern can run contrary to the interests of grace.

God bless you as you process this most recent tragedy and as you brace yourself for enduring the next one. Our prayer is that you not only experience grace and healing, but that you would become an agent of grace and healing in your community.