Ideas

Like-Minded, Not Like Me

Contributor

Birds of a feather might flock together, but Christians must flock to Christ.

Christianity Today February 22, 2024
Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Unsplash

Cleanliness is next to godliness.

Forgive and forget.

Growing up in my conservative, mostly evangelical, rural Texas town, I went looking for accepted truisms in the Bible—only to discover they’d never been there at all. Gradually, I came to realize life could be more complicated than those sayings allowed, and yet I’m still surprised every now and again when I find myself clinging to some pithy proverb with the spiritual ardor that ought to be reserved for chapter and verse.

This too shall pass.

God works in mysterious ways.

I walked the aisle of my Baptist church when I was nine years old, accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, and never looked back. I was active in Girls in Action, Bible Bowl, and my best friend’s charismatic church youth group. I attended Baylor, a Christian university. Everywhere I turned, I saw people who looked like me, talked like me, thought like me, and worshiped like me.

You are the company that you keep.

Birds of a feather flock together.

I assumed that kind of flocking was biblical in the prescriptive sense. Didn’t the Bible exhort us not to forsake the gathering of the saints (Heb. 10:25), placing a high value on “doing life with” like-minded people? Living in such a homogeneous world seemed like the natural order of things. I couldn’t yet see the shadow side—how easily we slip into idolizing our own reflections, mistaking the familiar for the proper and the customary for the righteous.

Today my thinking is more complicated. Now that my eldest is a teenager, I see the benefit of encouraging her to flock with friends who share our values or faith. There are no guarantees in parenting, but the company children keep, especially at such a crucial age, indelibly shapes who they become. Yet in her large public middle school, I already see the underbelly of the flock. The very normal, human impulse to be with like-minded friends also tends to mean self-sorting along social, racial, class, and cultural lines. Of course there are exceptions, but self-segregation is the operative norm in American schools.

That childish tendency becomes a more serious problem if we do not “put the ways of childhood behind” us in adulthood (1 Cor. 13:11)—if we default to superficial homogeneity instead of reconciliation in Christ (Eph. 2:11–22) or, worse, mistake sinful self-sorting for God’s will.

The temptation to that error is strong. At every turn are signs of polarization: red versus blue, urban versus rural, secular versus religious, us versus them. Algorithms serve up the news we want to hear, virtually assuring us of our own rightness. Everything becomes political, and the lines between us have cracked into chasms, so much so that “most Democrats and Republicans live in levels of partisan segregation that exceed what scholars of racial segregation consider highly segregated.” Even men and women are drifting further apart. At every scale—from our nation to our neighborhoods to our churches to our homes—we are self-sorting.

Birds of a feather flock together is often true in practice. We may find it comforting too, an assurance that nothing’s wrong with the lives we’ve built alongside like-minded friends. But as Christians, such flocking should prick the conscience. On what ground is our commonality rooted?

A few weeks ago, my pastor caught me off guard, exposing one of those places where I thought the Bible said something it does not. We so easily misread Philippians 2, he said, where Paul enjoins Christians to be “like-minded, having the same love” as Christ (v. 2) and “have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” (v. 5).

When most of us think about the word like-minded, my pastor continued, we think of finding people who are of a like mind with us. But that’s not what Paul wrote. He called us to conform our minds to be like that of Christ.

The former centers our lives and relationships on ourselves, our preconceived notions, and our personal biases. The latter centers us on Jesus. The former is an updated idolatry—not the golden cow but our own visage hoisted on the altar. The latter is our “true and proper worship” (Rom. 12:1).

Make no mistake: Building a community around ourselves is not the call of our Savior. Christianity is a monotheistic religion, but we were never supposed to be a monolithic community. As Allen Hilton points out in A House United, the early church cut across class, ethnic, and religious lines: In Romans 16, “Paul has painted a strange and wonderful family portrait, with aristocrats and artisans, shopkeepers and slaves, men and women, Greeks and barbarians, worshiping together.”

In this way, Christians were unique in the Roman Empire. The early church drew people from diverse groups to gather in each other’s homes, awestruck at what God was doing among them as they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to each other (Acts 2:42–47). It is far too common to find Christians who have lost that distinction today. Our congregations become flocks of like-minded people in the worst sense: We are united less by a common love than by a common enemy.

We might want to blame that dysfunction on political or religious leaders or on society in the abstract. But as Michael Wear writes in The Spirit of Our Politics, the mood of the age is a reflection of our own hearts: “Many of our most profound political problems reflect how our political institutions process and respond to the habits of the heart that are held, fundamentally, at the level of the individual.”

We may be convinced our hands are unsullied by dirty politicking, but how often in our ordinary lives do we choose hostility over hospitality or contempt over curiosity? Feeling right(eous) and powerful is deliciously intoxicating, as I know from experience. It’s ripe fruit from the wrong tree, and we’ve feasted until we are sick.

If there’s one thing Americans agree on as we look toward the 2024 election, it’s a shared feeling of dread. Few Americans want a rematch between president Joe Biden and former president Donald Trump, but this dread isn’t only about the unpleasant political theater that will last for months. It’s also about deeper anxieties: How do we keep already-fragile relationships from becoming political fodder? How do we resist the pull to make everything political? Are we bequeathing our children the makings of a civil war?

As followers of Jesus, we have an answer for this—if only we could remember it. Re-member: The word means “to call to mind,” but it also means “to put back together;” it is an antonym of dismember. The church must live out both meanings of the word.

We need to call to mind the eternal God in whom we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28), seeking to be more like-minded with him every day. And we need to acknowledge how much we—as individual American Christians—have contributed to the dismembering of our society, succumbing to the temptations Jesus faced in the wilderness as we pursue our desire to be relevant, spectacular, and powerful regardless of the cost.

As we repent for our part in the breaking, we must take up our part in the repairing, using “the old rubble of past lives to build anew … [becoming] known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again” (Isa. 58:12, MSG).

Trying to change a nation’s trajectory may feel as futile as trying to redirect an asteroid. But we can certainly course-correct our own lives. When we are like-minded with Christ, we will take on the nature of a servant. We will humble ourselves. We won’t be motivated by selfish ambition or vain conceit. We will look to the interests of others, seeking the “peace and prosperity” of the cities to which we very well may feel exiled (Phil. 2; Jer. 29:7).

Our Lord who “rejoices to see the work begin” (Zech. 4:10, NLT) doesn’t despise our small beginnings. Nor should we. The season of Lent is upon us, and in a world that sometimes feels like it’s turning to ashes in our hands, maybe it is time we repent.

Carrie McKean is a West Texas–based writer whose work has appeared in The New York Times, The Atlantic, and Texas Monthly Magazine. Find her at carriemckean.com.

Theology

God Says My Afro Hair Is Very Good

An excerpt on identity, hope, and glory from My Divine Natural Hair: Inspiration and Tips to Love and Care for Your Crown.

Christianity Today February 22, 2024
Huha Inc / Unsplash

In Chad, the women say God left a gift in the mountains to make their hair grow. If the flowering plant that produces the seeds, which these women have been blending into a silky powder and applying to their hair with oils for a millennium, is a gift from God, it would only be one of the innumerable ways the Creator’s abundant grace is revealed through Black women’s crowns of glory, given by the God who numbers the very hairs on our heads (Luke 12:7).

My own hair story is braided with the story of my faith. Like a crown is to a queen, a regal mane is to a lion, or leaves are to a tree, hair is a visually powerful symbol of identity.

Thousands of years ago, Nazirites—men and women who showed their dedication to God by letting their hair grow—also believed that hair was inseparable from the identity of a person. The Hebrew root word for Nazirite translates to “an unpruned vine.” Similarly, cutting the hair, or “pruning the vine,” for a Black person can be the same as being cut off from the symbol of one’s identity.

The most famous Nazirite was Samson. Unlike other men and women who took the vow to become Nazirites for a period of time, Samson was a Nazirite “from the womb” (Judges 13:5), his entire life dedicated to God. As he grew up and into the purpose God had placed on his life, performing superhuman feats throughout the land, Samson wore his unshorn hair in seven long, thick braids (16:19). He was stronger than any other foe because no razor had ever touched his head—until his lover, Delilah, betrayed him. After she had his braids chopped off, Samson awoke to find himself shaved, weakened, and surrounded by his enemies. They gouged out his eyes and enslaved him in their prison (v. 21).

It would seem like Samson’s purpose, like his hair, was lost. “But,” the Bible tells us, “the hair on his head began to grow again” (v. 22). Samson eventually vanquished many of his enemies, reclaiming the glorious purpose God had for him all along.

Majority-white society has long said that Afro-textured hair and hairstyles are not standard, unprofessional, messy, and unnatural. It demands that Black people straighten, change, or cut off our natural hair. The result of this pressure is the weakening of our self-esteem. But we have a secret. Like Samson, the strength of our identity is ultimately not in our hair but in our close relationship with the God who created us and our natural hair. God said we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps. 139:14). God said our hair is very good (Gen. 1:31).

My own hair story has been complicated—and my identity in God ultimately strengthened—by a diagnosis of central centrifugal cicatricial alopecia (CCCA). This is a form of hair loss that is commonly experienced by Black women. While previously believed to be solely attributable to the tight hairstyles and harsh chemicals we use on our hair at early ages, current research suggests that CCCA can be linked to multiple factors, including genetics. CCCA destroys hair follicles, and this leads to inflammation, scarring (cicatricial), and permanent hair loss, more often than not starting in the central part of the scalp, or the crown.

At first, I was confident I could reverse the CCCA. But when I got my first salaried job, my mindset shifted from healing the damage to my hair and scalp to covering it up. My hair’s condition worsened, and I became discouraged. Eventually, I spent all my time with my head covered by wigs and scarves. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see God’s good creation. I saw balding and brokenness.

But where I was disheartened, my mom and my sister, Sylvia, were helpful and patient. Where I had hopelessness, they had faith.

What made me ashamed made them proud. Instead of covering my scalp’s damage and alopecia with added hair and wigs, I was covered—in the biblical sense—by their love, as they encouraged and coached me to honor my hair care regimens. I was covered by Mom’s hair prayers over me. I was covered by my sister’s affirmations of the beauty of my natural hair.

Because of the words they spoke over me, words God has promised for me, I could trade the broken crown of my physical head for a spiritual crown of beauty and self-confidence, believing that my identity begins with how my God, the one who knows the number of coils on my head, sees me. What God put inside of me to reflect glory—my creativity, my spirit—matters more than what is (or isn’t) on my head when I look at my reflection.

My natural hair journey has been both a spiritual and physical journey toward grace, and it’s a journey I’m still making. Mom and Sylvia walked alongside me when I was healing. They are beside me now, helping me remember that the one who created us crowned us first. Shining atop our heads is a divine diadem with all the lightness of air, the radiance of honor, and the weight of glory. Along with the fractals in snowflakes and the curved petals of flowers, our coils are very good.

Melissa Burlock is a researcher, writer, and the coauthor of My Divine Natural Hair (Broadleaf Books, March 2024). Her musings on Black literature and culture have been featured in outlets like Salon.com. She is an alumna of Winston-Salem State University and resides in Indianapolis, Indiana.

An adapted excerpt from My Divine Natural Hair: Inspiration and Tips to Love and Care for Your Crown by Shelia, Sylvia, and Melissa Burlock © 2024 Broadleaf Books. Reproduced by permission.

Theology

What a Murdered Russian Dissident Can Teach Us About Moral Courage

Alexei Navalny was willing to stand alone—knowing he’d never be alone in the bigger story.

Alexei Navalny stands near law enforcement agents in a hallway of a business center, which houses the office of his Anti-Corruption Foundation, in Moscow.

Alexei Navalny stands near law enforcement agents in a hallway of a business center, which houses the office of his Anti-Corruption Foundation, in Moscow.

Christianity Today February 21, 2024
Dimitar Dilkoff / Contributor / Getty

This piece was adapted from Russell Moore’s newsletter. Subscribe here.

Russian president Vladimir Putin murdered another Christian this week. It was just another day in Putin’s supposed project of protecting “the Christian West” from godlessness. After all, they tell me, one can’t create a Christian nationalist empire without killing some people.

Before the world forgets the corpse of Alexei Navalny in the subzero environs of an Arctic penal colony, we ought to look at him—especially those of us who follow Jesus Christ—to see what moral courage actually is.

Navalny was perhaps the most-recognized anti-Putin dissident in the world, and he is now one of many Putin enemies to end up “suddenly dead.” He survived poisoning in 2020, recuperated in Europe, and ultimately went back to his homeland despite knowing what he would face. Speaking of his dissent and his willingness to bear its consequences, Navalny repeatedly referenced his profession of Christian faith. My Christianity Today colleague Emily Belz discovered a 2021 trial transcript at Meduza, in which Navalny explains, in strikingly biblical terms, what it means to suffer for one’s beliefs.

“The fact is that I am a Christian, which usually sets me up as an example for constant ridicule in the Anti-Corruption Foundation, because mostly our people are atheists, and I was once quite a militant atheist myself,” Navalny said (as rendered by Google Translate). “But now I am a believer, and that helps me a lot in my activities because everything becomes much, much easier.”

“There are fewer dilemmas in my life, because there is a book in which, in general, it is more or less clearly written what action to take in every situation,” he explained. “It’s not always easy to follow this book, of course, but I am actually trying.”

Specifically, Navalny said, he was motivated by the words of Jesus: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied” (Matt. 5:6, NASB).

“I’ve always thought that this particular commandment is more or less an instruction to activity,” Navalny said. “And so, while certainly not really enjoying the place where I am, I have no regrets about coming back or about what I’m doing. It’s fine, because I did the right thing.”

“On the contrary, I feel a real kind of satisfaction,” he said. “Because at some difficult moment I did as required by the instructions and did not betray the commandment.”

These words may seem a bit too easy. After all, an unbeliever might respond, most of the people in the pro-democracy, anti-tyranny movement of which Navalny was a part did not, in fact, believe “the instructions” of Scripture. And Putin himself is backed by key leaders of the Russian Orthodox Church, where some are as willing as any court prophets ever were to baptize his murder in the language of Christian virtue and Christian civilization. (Though there are examples of faithful dissidence too.)

But that response would miss Navalny’s point. He was not saying that Christians are courageous while unbelievers are not. There is ample evidence to the contrary—in Russia and other places too—to put such notions to flight.

Navalny recognized, though, that the allure of moral cowardice when standing in courage means standing alone. A conscience can always reassure itself that being quiet right now is the right thing. Navalny recognized the terror in the thought of being left outside a field of belonging—being branded as a traitor by fellow countrymen and a heretic by fellow churchmen.

To resist the pull of that mob requires a different motive than a better-than-even chance of political “success.” Navalny recognized that one must, as the evangelical missionary Jim Elliot once put it, embrace “strangerhood.”

“For a modern person this whole commandment—‘blessed,’ ‘thirsty,’ ‘hungry for righteousness,’ ‘for they shall be satisfied’—it sounds, of course, very pompous,” Navalny said. “Sounds a little strange, to be honest.”

“Well, people who say such things are supposed, frankly speaking, to look crazy,” he recognized. “Crazy, strange people, sitting there with disheveled hair in their cell and trying to cheer themselves up with something, although they are lonely, they are loners, because no one needs them.”

“And this is the most important thing that our government and the entire system are trying to tell such people: You are alone,” he continued. “You are a loner. First, it is important to intimidate, and then, prove that you are alone.”

In this, Navalny not only identified his own motives for conscientious strangeness—he also contradicted the very nature of the Putinist conception of Christianity. To be “Christian,” in such a regime, is to be a Russian (or whatever the local blood-and-soil equivalent is). To be “Christian” is to be a “regular” person—unwilling to step out of line, to expose one’s conscience to any thought that might bring hardship.

After Navalny’s killing, The Free Press published letters between Navalny and the famed former Soviet dissident Natan Sharansky, who served time in the same Artic penal colony during some of the most dangerous years of the Communist regime. Biblical passages are quoted throughout, including Navalny joking about “where else to spend Holy Week” than in the prison complex the older man called his “alma mater.”

This was the root, I believe, of Navalny’s moral courage, his willingness to stand alone, his willingness to die. It’s not just that he knew Bible verses; the pro-Putin patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church no doubt knows more. It’s the way he seemed to know Scripture. He seemed to recognize not just the bare “instructions” from Jesus about hungering and thirsting for righteousness, about being blessed in persecution, but also the story behind and around them. He knew these words seem strange. He knew they sound crazy.

In the introduction to his collection of poems on joy, the poet Christian Wiman notes that early audiences of the New Testament message, offended by the strangeness of what they heard, “might very well have made their way home past rows of crucified corpses designed specially to eradicate all cause for any insurrectionist hope or joy.” The strangeness was the point. No one can actually hear what Jesus is saying when he calls the forgotten, the persecuted, the poor, and the reviled “blessed” unless we feel why his own family thought he was insane (Mark 3:21).

This is probably why Navalny recognized so clearly the Putin regime’s methods of making dissenters feel strange and crazy and alone: Navalny had seen it before, in a Roman Empire that did the same thing with crosses.

Those of moral courage of all faiths and no faith have all kinds of motivations for their convictions. But—whatever the motivation—one cannot maintain moral courage if one is unwilling to be sent away from whatever one calls “my home,” from whomever one calls “my people.” That’s the joyful irony: One never stands alone when one is part of a bigger story, when one belongs to a bigger body.

The cloud of witnesses includes Elijah and Jeremiah, Peter and Paul, Maximus and Bonhoeffer, and countless others who died seemingly abandoned, who seemed crazy in their day (Heb. 12:1). It’s people like this—not from the “German Christian” Reich bishops or the Putin-cheering Orthodox patriarchate—from whom the next generation of our faith is born.

The very point of “hungering” and “thirsting” is that one is prompted to see that something’s missing—that the satisfactions on offer aren’t enough. The very appetite for such things is a sign that what one is hungering for, thirsting for, is really out there.

A person can see that, sometimes, even from a gulag. That’s strange. That’s crazy. But that’s what at least one Person I know would call “blessed.”

Russell Moore is the editor in chief at Christianity Today and leads its Public Theology Project.

News

Report: Iran Arrested 166 Christians in 2023, Targeting Bible Distributors

Four watchdog groups unite to urge UK parliament to hold Tehran accountable for “faceless victims” of Islamic reeducation and other religious freedom violations.

Rajaei Shahr Prison in Karaj, Iran

Rajaei Shahr Prison in Karaj, Iran

Christianity Today February 21, 2024
Courtesy of Article18

Religious reeducation did not work on Esmaeil Narimanpour.

First arrested by the Iranian government in 2021, he and seven other converts to Christianity were cleared by the state prosecutor, who stated that their change of religion was not a crime under Iranian law. The following year, he was ordered with several others to attend ten sessions with Muslim clerics to “guide” him back to Islam.

Last December, Narimanpour was arrested again, this time on Christmas Eve.

The case is one of several highlighted by “Faceless Victims: Rights Violations Against Christians in Iran,” the 2024 annual report released jointly by advocacy organizations Article18, Open Doors, Middle East Concern, and CSW and presented at the British Parliament.

“This is a great example of agencies working together,” stated Mervyn Thomas, founding president of CSW (formerly Christian Solidarity Worldwide), at the event. “Iran claims to ensure freedom of religion or belief for all; but that is nonsense, as this report shows.”

Not yet convicted, Narimanpour is one of 166 Christians arrested and 103 detained by Iran during the 2023 reporting period. Another 22 have been sentenced, and 21 imprisoned.

While sentencings decreased by 8 from 2022, this year witnessed an additional 32 arrests and 41 detainments. Article18 has tracked incidents in Iran since 2015, when arrests were at a peak of 193. Detainments have fluctuated yearly between 26 in 2018 and this year’s high, while sentencings ranged between 12 in 2015 and a high of 57 in 2020.

The British parliament gathering included testimony from former prisoner Farhad Sabokrooh. Arrested with his wife in 2011, the couple served one year in prison and had their previously registered church closed down after 25 years. Accused of being a spy for Israel and the United States, he told the gathering that he was forced into a false confession, sentenced without his lawyer present, and once released was threatened with death if he did not leave Iran within one month.

“My plea to you is to hold the regime accountable,” Sabokrooh stated. He later noted, “They somehow feel Christians are orphans and have no one to protect them. We have to reverse that.”

The 36-page sixth report was released on February 19 to coincide with the 45th anniversary of the murder of Arastoo Sayyah, the first Christian killed for his faith in the Islamic Republic of Iran—eight days after the revolution began. It notes that while the constitution formally guarantees the rights of Christians to “perform their religious rites and ceremonies,” in practice this refers only to the ethnic Armenian and Assyrian communities, which are prevented from conducting services in Farsi (Persian) or otherwise promoting their faith.

Their population of 50,000–80,000 is dwarfed by the report’s estimation of as many as 800,000 Iranian Christians overall. And while Iran lacks a law against apostasy, the report lists the six criminal code provisions frequently used to charge Christians with religious blasphemy or propaganda against the Islamic Republic.

This only makes it “hurt even more,” the report quotes Nazila Ghanea, the United Nations special rapporteur on freedom of religion or belief, as saying at last year’s presentation at the UK parliament.

“Your [real] crime is that you are Christian,” stated Ghanea. “Your crime is that you gather with other Christians in house churches, and your crime is that you converted.”

This year the event was hosted by Fiona Bruce, the UK prime minister’s special envoy for freedom of religion or belief (FoRB).

“All of us here are dedicated to protecting FoRB around the world,” she said, “and particularly for Christians.”

Once arrested, they are further abused by the Iranian government.

Iran signed the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) in 1975. The report cited violations against 11 of its articles and a total of 19 subpoints. Shahnaz Jizan—wife of Sabokrooh—was detained without charges. Anooshavan Avedian was denied a hearing in person. Touraj Shirani was kept in a tiny cell with dirty blankets. Ali Kazemian was tortured.

“In all those years my biggest fear was always for my husband and kids,” Jizan stated. “If they left home, I didn't know if they would come back.”

Shahnaz Jizan (left) and Touraj Shirani (right)
Shahnaz Jizan (left) and Touraj Shirani (right)

Each of these individuals is pictured in the report. But in the “vast majority” of cases, Christians choose not to publicize their stories in hope of receiving a better legal outcome. These faceless victims, per the report title, are represented in the collective.

But the Christian organizations sponsoring the report believe advocacy can be effective. A death sentence in 2010 was not carried out due to international pressure. Furthermore, a judge is quoted as saying that the only reason the civil code lacks an apostasy provision is concern for Iran’s global standing.

“Iran does care about image and wants to play in the public arena,” stated Mansour Borji, research and advocacy director for Article18, advocating sanctions against offending judges. “They don’t want the negative publicity.”

Several Christians were pardoned in 2023, though the report notes that most were already near their maximum term of imprisonment. And on the same day that one Iranian-Armenian pastor was set free, another was arrested as a warning to recognized Christian communities that they must not preach to Muslims.

Other trends indicate that, as with the similarly violated Bahai community, arrests of Christians tend to come in waves, with increased surveillance of suspected converts and those released from detention. Bible distribution is also a particularly sensitive activity, as one-third of those arrested had multiple copies of Scripture in their possession.

The report also includes a timeline of rights violations in 2023. In addition to personal accounts of arrest, detainment, pardon, and release, it describes the March designation of sale of a historic Assemblies of God church building, founded by Haik Hovsepian, who was martyred in 1994.

The pattern is familiar, stated the report. Churches are forced to close, later are quietly confiscated, and then appropriated by the Iranian state. May marked the 10th anniversary of the forced closure of the Central Assemblies of God Church in Tehran, which was then the largest Farsi-speaking congregation in Iran.

Only four such fellowships remain viable—to those who can prove their Christian faith predates the Islamic revolution of 1979. No further membership is permitted, but these have been closed since COVID-19.

Nima Rezaei (left) and Parham Mohammadpour (right)
Nima Rezaei (left) and Parham Mohammadpour (right)

Member of parliament Jim Shannon, part of the All-Party Parliamentary Group for FoRB, responded in tears to the “hard reading” of details in the report.

“As a Christian I will say the most important thing is prayer,” he stated at the gathering. “And I pray fervently for our brothers and sisters in Iran, including those who I will never meet.”

But the report also issued several recommendations to Iran. They included:

  • Amend Article 13 of Iran’s constitution to extend civil rights to convert communities, consistent with ICCPR Article 18.
  • Drop charges and free individuals imprisoned for their faith, in line with Iran’s Supreme Court decision that deemed church activity lawful.
  • Reopen closed churches, return confiscated properties, and clarify where Farsi-speaking Christians can worship in their mother tongue.

The report exhorts the international community to hold Iran accountable for its violations and to recognize the “well-founded fear of experiencing persecution” when considering refugee testimony and asylum requests. Turkey is highlighted as a hosting nation where Iranian Christian converts are at risk of being forcibly returned back to Iran.

Until then, the religious reeducation attempts continue.

Hamed Ashouri was required to attend the course with a family member after refusing an offer to act as a government informant. Nima Rezaei had his session filmed as the cleric grilled him for incriminating information. Two anonymous individuals were threatened with seven-year sentences during the classes. And Parham Mohammadpour, like others, was forced to sign a pledge that he would not evangelize.

But not before he gave his testimony: “Even if you cut me into pieces, I won’t abandon my faith in Jesus Christ.”

Editor’s note: You can now follow CT on Telegram, along with the 10,700 readers (3/4 outside North America) who have made CT the largest Christian media on the secure platform.

News

Park Street Divided: Congregation Asked to End Conflict with a Vote

A clash over leadership at the landmark evangelical church in Boston is testing the strength of democratic governance.

Park Street Church in Boston

Park Street Church in Boston

Christianity Today February 21, 2024
Demerzel21 / Getty

A years-long fight over leadership styles and decision-making processes at historic Park Street Church in Boston has boiled over into accusations of abusing spiritual authority and authoritarianism.

There are petitions calling for a congregational review of the leadership’s decision to fire a popular former minister, an open letter defending the current senior minister, public statements about “escalating difficulties,” and overt campaigning for rival slates of elder candidates ahead of the church’s annual meeting. People on both sides of the division say the congregation is besieged by spiritual warfare.

The conflict will come to a head on Sunday with the regularly scheduled vote on elders and budgets, which has become a “referendum” on the current leadership, according to a letter that the chair of the board of elders sent to the congregation on February 11.

At the 220-year-old church, once led by a founding father of modern evangelicalism, members are being asked to end the turmoil by voting to affirm the calling of its current senior minister, Mark Booker.

“We are a church in conflict,” Booker said in a video message to the church. “A yes vote on this would not mean that somehow I am a perfect leader or that I am doing everything just right. … But it is a way to say, I believe this church will be better off, Park Street will be better off, with Mark in the role of senior minister in the future.”

CT spoke to 15 current and former church leaders and members about the turmoil at Park Street. Most spoke on condition of anonymity, saying they were afraid of being fired or otherwise punished—even kicked out of the church—if their names appeared in print.

They described a conflict that started out as a fairly common clash in the life of a congregation. A new leader wanted to make changes. He butted heads with existing staff—partly because of what he wanted to do, but more because of how he led and made decisions.

The friction might have smoothed out with time. Instead, it grew worse. The senior minister made more decisions with less input, his critics say, and strong-armed people into agreeing with him or remaining silent. Factions formed, opposing and defending those decisions.

Many current and former ministers, elders, lay leaders, and longtime members do not believe the church is better off with Booker, who took the helm in 2020. They say he’s the source of the problem.

“Mark shows patterns of behavior revealing a heart that is not conforming to the role of pastor,” associate pastor Michael Balboni wrote in a letter to the elders before he was fired in August. “This has led to hurt, harm, and scattering of our flock (Ezekiel 34:1–6). The current term for this is ‘spiritual abuse,’ but the Scripture calls it ruling the flock ‘with force and harshness’ (Ezekiel 34:4) and spiritual ‘domination’ (1 Peter 5:3).”

One elder, John Knight, wrote that he thought Booker was “preoccupied with sole power and control,” demanding secrecy, deceiving those around him, and curtailing all possibility of disagreement, in a document obtained by CT.

“I have found him … to target anyone who disagrees with him,” Knight wrote. “I believe it is in the best interest of the [senior minister] and Park Street Church to place him on an immediate, indefinite leave of absence for a minimum of 12 months.”

Knight was placed on leave and not renominated for a second term.

Cindy Cutlip, another elder in the church, also resigned last year.

“I lost confidence in the leadership of Park Street Church,” she wrote in a letter explaining the decision. “I could no longer be complicit and stand with a group who collectively did not seek godly wisdom nor pursue accountability to the congregation.”

Park Street is not an especially big church. It currently has about 900 members, down from around 1,500 a decade ago. But it has played an outsized role in the history of American evangelicalism.

The Boston congregation defended Trinitarianism in the early 1800s, when many of the descendants of Puritans were rejecting orthodox Christianity. It helped launch the abolitionist movement and encouraged revivalist “brimstone” preaching. In the mid-20th century, senior minister Harold J. Ockenga worked closely with evangelist Billy Graham to build the institutions that would create and sustain a robust evangelical movement: Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, Fuller Theological Seminary, the National Association of Evangelicals (NAE), World Relief, and Christianity Today.

Ockenga served on the board of CT from 1956 to 1981. Timothy Dalrymple, the current president of CT, attended Park Street when he lived in Boston. Walter Kim, head of the NAE, was previously a minister at Park Street. Clergy at the church have worked on the translation of the New American Standard Bible, the New International Version, and the English Standard Version.

The current conflict has deeply divided the congregation. Many fear it has irreparably damaged the church’s ability to proclaim the gospel in Boston and throughout New England.

The conflict has also strained the congregational model of governance long prized at Park Street—and may have actually broken it.

“I hope this is a warning to congregational churches: You are vulnerable,” said one current staff member who spoke to CT on the condition that he not be named for fear he would lose his job. “You trust the senior minister will not take advantage of the authority of the position. But what happens when they do? I don’t think there are adequate checks and balances.”

Park Street once listed “congregationalism” as one of its three essential characteristics, along with Trinitarianism and evangelicalism. Members must “covenant to continue … in the congregational form of church government” to join.

In a history of the church, former minister Gordon Hugenberger wrote he was proud Park Street had maintained this core commitment for more than 200 years. He said Park Street teaches that “Christ has vested the authority of His Church not in a hierarchy of professionals or bishops, who may live far away, or even in one or two local clergy, but in the members of the local congregation itself.”

In practice, this means the congregation votes to call the senior minister, approve annual budgets, and appoint elders. The day-to-day business of leading the church is run by the elders, but according to the bylaws, all their decisions are “subject to review and modification at any duly convened business meeting of the congregation.” Any 25 members may call a meeting with a written petition presented to the clerk, which is an elected position at Park Street.

Some members don’t care about the congregationalism at Park Street and don’t bother to vote. One woman who recently left the church told CT that she attended one business meeting in 20 years, though she now regrets that she wasn’t more involved.

For other members, congregationalism is very important. It was part of the reason they chose to join the church.

“That sounded like what we wanted,” said one lay leader who started attending Park Street in the 1990s. “Not authoritarian. Not top-down. But something where we were a church family—the people help with the decision-making process and have more ownership.”

When Booker was hired as the senior minister in 2020, however, he had no experience working in a congregationalist setting. He was ordained as a priest in the Anglican Church in North America and had always submitted to a bishop.

According to people familiar with the discussions in the search committee, the question of congregationalism was not a focus. The church’s first search for a new minister failed, and the second committee, set up in 2019, was under a lot of pressure to succeed. Both put an emphasis on preaching—and hoped they might even be able to attract a star.

“That’s what we asked for. That’s what we prayed for,” a church member told CT. “I think perhaps because of Mark’s Anglican background, he’s more authoritarian and more used to top-down decisions. It’s a bad fit for us, but we didn’t screen it out.”

It wasn’t that unusual for Park Street to have a minister who wasn’t previously a congregationalist, though. Several previous pastors, including Ockenga, were Presbyterians. But some of those who worked closely with Booker say his approach to leadership was different.

“He came in and he had a need for control,” said one member of the church staff. “I think the accurate term is authoritarianism.”

Booker decided he would preach at all three weekly services. He marginalized the ministers with the most experience and pushed out associate minister Kris Perkins, who had worked for the church for 24 years. Booker presented the departure as Perkins’s idea, but it later came out he’d told Perkins he had to leave.

According to his critics, Booker made it clear that he could fire anyone who disagreed with him, creating a “culture of fear” as staff members worried about who might be next.

Not everyone who worked under Booker agrees with this assessment.

“I loved working with Mark Booker—as does the majority of the staff,” Caitlin Lubinski, former communications director, told CT. “He is grounded in the Word of God, has devoted his life to the ministry and sacrificial care of others, and is deeply thoughtful in how he goes about doing that.”

Booker’s supporters, inside and outside the church, say he’s done the best he could, faced with an impossible task. He had to take leadership of a historic church with deeply entrenched ways of doing things—not all of them healthy. Some senior staff members didn’t want Booker to be there, they say, and resisted him every step of the way.

Three different people who are not members of the church but are friends of Booker’s told CT that the problem at Park Street is a “dissident group” stirring up opposition to his leadership. Those people should have had the decency to step aside, they argue, and given the minister a chance to make changes and implement his vision for Park Street.

An open letter signed by more than 200 people echoes this sentiment. The letter blames “reactions by some in the congregation” for the “intense division and painful situation which we now face."

Booker, for his part, told the congregation that he has struggled with the opposition of “a sustained resistance movement.”

He denies the charges of authoritarianism. While he wasn’t previously congregational, Booker says he has chosen to embrace the congregationalist polity. He told CT he discerned a call from God to serve at the church and was happy to accept the governance structure.

“I embraced this new context and was received as an ordained minister in the Conservative Congregational Christian Conference (of which Park Street is a member church),” he said in an email. “We are committed to discerning God’s will together as a congregation through the means prescribed by our polity.”

Booker’s critics point out, however, that he started making changes to the church’s decision-making process almost as soon as he took charge. One of his first moves was to end a senior leadership team. Under the interim minister before Booker, longtime staff members including Michael Balboni, Kris Perkins, and Julian Linnell had worked together with the senior minister to navigate major ministry issues and the regular weekly schedule of events. Booker discontinued these meetings.

He replaced them with a larger meeting, including all ministers, and dubbed it the Ministry Leadership Team. But the Ministry Leadership Team did not actually have any leadership responsibilities, according to multiple people who participated. The staff did not make major decisions, nor were they asked for more than minor input. Mostly, Booker gave them updates on decisions he had already made.

Ministers on staff were also told to stop attending elder meetings. Booker disinvited them, according to several people on staff, saying all communication would flow through him.

This became an issue in late 2022, when the senior minister told the staff he planned to recommend to the elders that the church discontinue a Sunday afternoon service held at 4 p.m. Booker said it would improve the unity of the church, bringing these very different services together, and make better use of Park Street’s resources. He did not ask for the input of any ministers involved with that service or any church leaders who attended.

A number of the staff objected. The 4 p.m. service served a congregation that wouldn’t likely attend a more traditional service in the morning. The afternoon worship attracted students, immigrants, and people coming into the church through the homeless ministry—about 150 to 200 people on average. The staff said there was no good reason to shut it down.

Booker didn’t accept the pushback. He pulled staff into four successive meetings, lasting a total of 10 to 12 hours, pressuring them to agree to cancel the service, according to several people who were in the meeting.

One described it as getting “pummeled” for hours. The staff say they were also told they couldn’t get input or advice from anyone who attended the afternoon service or the elders because the discussion was confidential.

“He made us throw away the handouts he gave us,” one staff member told CT. “He taped up the windows so people couldn’t see slides on the screen as they walked by. He told us, ‘You can’t tell anybody.’”

Booker disputes this. He said the windows were not covered.

When staff members raised specific objections, Booker insisted they supported his plan but just wanted to make tweaks, according to staff members.

“You know me,” one of them said sarcastically, according to someone who was there, “Mr. Tweaky.”

Another told Booker, “I don’t know about this proposal, but I’m supportive of you.”

The senior minister then took the plan to the board of elders for approval. When the elders asked how the staff felt about the change, Booker said the staff supported it but wanted to make a few changes—“tweaks.”

“He didn’t accurately represent the views in the room,” a church leader said. “He has a vision for the church, and any discussion is opposition and any opposition is neutralized.”

The elders voted to approve the cancellation of the 4 p.m. service in May 2023. The decision caused an uproar—and raised heated questions about the process. About a month later, in June 2023, the elders reversed the decision.

“We realize that this process caused unnecessary pain,” the elders wrote to the congregation. “We apologize to you for the process we followed, and we understand that the church would have benefited from us seeking wider input.”

The elders, however, did not invite ministers back to their meetings. Nor did they object to Booker’s new rule that they not attend staff meetings either.

Nor did they intervene when Booker adjusted the hiring process for a new city engagement minister in a way that gave Booker more control and limited congregational involvement.

The city engagement minister at Park Street reports to the missions minister and is paid out of the missions budget. In June 2023, however, Booker decided that the missions committee wouldn’t be involved in interviewing prospective candidates.

Instead, according to documents obtained by CT, a smaller search committee would do preliminary interviews and send the best candidates to Booker. He would then do interviews and pick two candidates to visit the church.

The candidates would meet with several groups during their visit, which might include members of the missions committee, but might not. Those groups would send their assessments of gifting, qualifications, and fit to the search committee—who would give them to the senior minister.

Booker would then make his recommendation to the personnel committee for approval and, finally, to the elders. The missions committee, as a committee, had no vote in the revised process. They would never get to interview candidates. The senior minister, on the other hand, controlled several critical steps.

Booker told an elder that Park Street needed to learn that there was only one person who makes decisions, according to several people.

Booker said he was only speaking about staffing decisions, not making a larger statement about leadership philosophy.

When some members of the missions committee objected to the new process, the search was put on pause. The position remains vacant today.

That same summer, associate pastor Michael Balboni wrote a 17-page memo to the elders outlining “serious concerns I have regarding Mark’s spiritual leadership due to patterns at variance with the biblical qualifications” for the senior minister role.

Balboni told the elders he was especially concerned with the way Booker tried to get information out of him and other ministers, without apparent concern for pastoral confidentiality.

At the same time, Balboni charged, Booker was increasingly declaring things “confidential” and warning staff not to share information or discuss things with others in the church—even elders.

“This gagging of speech has suffocated staff morale,” Balboni wrote, “and made it clear that alternative voices are not just unwelcome, but can cause the person to be labeled ‘disloyal’ and can result in negative repercussions (loss of one’s position being a major concern).”

Some of the conflicts Balboni outlined were small. He noted one time when Booker “rebuked” him for not putting candles on the Communion table at the 4 p.m. service. But those small things added up, Balboni said.

“Mark shows basic lack of empathy toward his fellow ministers,” the associate minister wrote. “Leadership that leads through fear, control, and suppression of others’ ideas not only destroys staff morale, it impacts the entire church community.”

The memo was reviewed by a subcommittee of five elders. They interviewed Balboni and Booker. After two weeks, the subcommittee gave the memo to the rest of the elders, and then the board voted to affirm Booker. They said they found “no evidence of disqualifying sins.”

In October 2023, Booker informed Park Street that Balboni had been removed from ministry and was no longer working for the church. Ministry together was “no longer feasible,” Booker said, because Balboni did not accept the elders’ decision about his qualifications for ministry.

Some members of the church have been pushing for a congregational meeting to review Balboni’s charges against Booker and his subsequent dismissal. According to the bylaws, 25 members can call a special meeting if they put the request in writing “specifying the purpose of the meeting.”

The first petition was deemed improper, however, because its stated purpose was to require members of the personnel committee, elders, and ministers to answer questions.

“Members have no authority to demand to hear from or to interrogate any particular members, employees, or staff of the Church,” wrote the Park Street parliamentarian, a church officer who interprets the bylaws for the clerk. “Accordingly, the stated purpose of the Special Meeting called for in the Petition is invalid.”

A second petition was submitted. Fifty Park Street members signed it, asking for a meeting “to seek a vote modifying the Board of Elders’ decision” not to do any further investigation into the charges against Booker and to commission an independent investigation.

That petition was also rejected. “The Members do not have such powers under the Church’s governing documents,” the parliamentarian wrote.

That same month, the church held a meeting to discuss Balboni’s departure. At the meeting, an elder explained there was a change happening in the leadership style at Park Street. That the church was moving away from consensus seeking, the elder said. Park Street was, instead, going to adopt a “guidance giving” model of leadership under Booker.

The announced change upset some Park Street members, who pointed out they had covenanted to a congregationalist form of church government when they joined. “Guidance giving” leadership didn’t sound congregational to them.

“This style does not include the input of the congregation as these decisions are being made. This practice, as one can see, is then completely antithetical to the principle of congregational consent,” wrote Ruth and Joel Luna, longtime members and former deacons, in a letter of protest they sent to the elders.

People are supposed to submit to church leaders, but in a congregationalist church, the Lunas explained, submission is predicated on consent.

“The church has turned away from such practices,” they wrote, “with leadership expecting submission without providing for the real opportunity to first obtain consent.”

A third petition for a meeting “to review and possibly modify and/or rescind” the “decision of the Board of Elders who ‘rejected as unsubstantiated’ the allegations” against Booker and “decisions of the Board of Elders arising from that rejection” was submitted with signatures from more than 60 members.

They were told that it too was improper, since “it is not valid to call a meeting to review and seek to modify unspecified decisions of the Board.”

A modified petition for a special meeting—the right of the members, according to the bylaws—was resubmitted in early February. A special meeting for part of the petition has been scheduled for April.

The church’s clerk, Debbie Gallagher, told CT that despite the bylaws about special meetings, there had never been a petition to have one until this group filed theirs last year.

“In my experience, Park Street has always been a church promoting healthy dialogue,” Gallagher wrote in an email. “We frequently hold town halls and have other forums where the congregation can discuss and ask questions. … A special meeting should not and will not be held if the stated purpose is for the congregation to do something that is either unlawful or is not permitted by our bylaws.”

Others, however, say the failure of the petitions is clear evidence that congregational governance at Park Street is broken. There is no real possibility for congregational review, despite what the bylaws say. The democratic promise of the polity was just a mirage.

“In order for the congregational system to work, you’ve got to follow the bylaws,” said one former minister. “You can’t change the bylaws. You can’t have a parliamentarian, who is not mentioned in the bylaws, come up with new conditions. The bylaws of the church have checks and balances, but what good are they?”

A current member of the church recalled how excited he was when he first read about Park Street’s congregationalist model.

“I was really enthusiastic,” he told CT. “I thought it meant the congregation ruled, that the congregation did what the Lord was calling them to do by majority vote. But that’s not how it turned out.”

In the meantime, the clerk and the church leadership have planned the annual meeting, where the congregation votes to approve a budget and select officers and elders.

This year, there are seven proposed amendments to the bylaws. Several would change the way meetings are held and what the congregation can do in meetings. Another would give the congregation more access to records, including minutes of meetings and church policies. One proposal would limit the senior minister’s ability to make staffing decisions.

There are also two opposed slates of candidates going to the congregation for a vote on Sunday. One slate was chosen, in the normal fashion, by the nominating committee, with input from the elders and the senior minister. A second slate has been nominated by petition.

On the official list of candidates provided to the congregation by the nominating committee, there’s an asterisk after the name of each candidate-by-petition. Five different footnotes say the candidates have not been vetted and cannot be endorsed by the committee. Two say the nominating committee “found this person did not best exemplify the qualities” required for the position.

Some church leaders have also spoken out to condemn the alternative candidates.

“We cannot let our church turn into a two-party system each year,” family minister Adam Herndon wrote in a church newsletter. “I would ask that you please trust the work of the Nominating Committee.”

The chair of the elders, Jason Abraham, said the alternative slate was a “referendum on Mark and current leadership,” though only indirectly. The elders approved the nonbinding vote to affirm Booker’s leadership to force the issue.

Abraham told CT he is confident the congregation will vote decisively.

“I believe Mark Booker, our senior pastor, enjoys the trust and support of the vast majority of our congregation, staff, and leadership,” Abraham said in an email. “It is important to note for your story that our commitment to congregationalism remains unwavering.”

The week before the vote, staff members at the church were asked to sign a letter of support affirming Booker’s leadership. Five refused.

“We feel it important that we communicate clearly and honestly,” Julian Linnell, Raymond Kam, Damian Long, Tim Leary, and Tammy McLeod wrote in an email they sent to church staff, deacons, and elders. “We as ministers of this congregation are deeply distressed by the direction that the church has taken, and by the leadership style that has been adopted, under which we are also subject.”

Two elders also released a video on behalf of the board, telling the congregation about the meeting on Sunday, expressing regret over the divisions, confessing they had fallen short of their shepherding responsibilities, and promising that the elders and the senior minister would grow.

“We encourage each of you to do your own self reflection, especially in this season of Lent,” said elder John Liu. “All our annual meetings are important, but this one will have an extraordinary impact on the future of our church.”

Park Street’s annual business meeting will be held on Sunday in the sanctuary at 12:45 p.m.

This article has been updated to include several specific objections from Mark Booker and to clarify John Knight’s departure from the board of elders, the creation of the senior leadership team, and the framing of an elder’s comments about the shift from consensus-seeking to guidance-giving leadership.

This article has been corrected to say the ministry leadership team included ministers, not all staff; remove a reference to a dispute over credit taken for a church devotional; and state that a special meeting for part of the revised petition has been scheduled for April 7.

Church Life

He Enzheng: Female Missionary Pioneer in Xinjiang

Her faith and sacrifices have inspired many Chinese Christians to devote their lives to mission in the Muslim region.

Christianity Today February 21, 2024
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Wikimedia Commons / Lightstock

In the 1940s, following a missiological vision of “Back to Jerusalem,” a group of visionary Chinese Christians set out with a heart for evangelizing Muslims, aspiring to traverse China’s northwestern provinces and neighboring countries.

He Enzheng and her future husband Zhao Maijia (Mecca Zhao) were among this group of pioneers. Their goal was to bring the gospel to Xinjiang, the autonomous region in China where the Uyghurs are the dominant ethnic group. Their efforts planted seeds that continue to shape the spiritual heritage of the Chinese church, motivating Christians to carry on their mission.

Born in rural Hebei province in October 1917, He grew up in the church in Tianjin and experienced spiritual rebirth at a revival meeting at age 15. At 17, she felt called to distant mission fields and pursued this vision at a Bible college. After she graduated in 1937, no opportunity for mission to unreached areas materialized, leading her to serve locally while seeking God’s direction.

In time, He joined the mission of the Northwest Bible College in Fengxiang, Shaanxi, teaching the Bible while caring for female students. The school was established in 1940 by Dai Yongmian (the Chinese name of James Hudson Taylor II, grandson of Hudson Taylor), with a focus on evangelizing the Muslim regions of northwest China. The college played a key role in training preachers and evangelists who served in that area.

On Easter 1943, Ma Ke, the vice president of the college, along with He and 13 others, received a vision to evangelize Xinjiang, a large region in the northwest. They formed the “Chinese Back to Jerusalem Evangelistic Band,” a groundbreaking, interdenominational Chinese organization free from foreign missionary leadership and financial dependence. Its formation was a pivotal moment in Chinese church history, and five out of seven of its members were women.

In 1947, He, Zhao, and other members of the Evangelistic Band embarked on a mission to Shule, Xinjiang’s westernmost region, from Xining, the capital of Qinghai province. Whereas other northwestern provinces including Shaanxi, Ningxia, Qinghai, and Gansu had established churches, Xinjiang was still unreached. The journey from Xining to Shule was around 3,000 kilometers (about 1,800 miles). Despite the arduous journey and their awareness of potential dangers, the band moved forward in faith, supporting churches along the way and sometimes stopping to assist local ministries. They persevered through challenges, including bandit attacks, sustained by their faith and God’s provision.

However, their journey ended abruptly when troops sent by Qinghai province’s Muslim warlord governor Ma Bufang, who opposed Christian missions in the northwest, stopped them. All but Zhao, who stayed to handle the camels and goods, were turned back to Xining. Despite this setback, He remained undeterred. She returned to Lanzhou, Gansu, continuing her service and learning Arabic to prepare for future missions.

In spring 1948, Zhao ventured from Gansu to the city of Hami, becoming the first Han Chinese missionary in the southern part of Xinjiang. That same year, He Enzheng also made her way to Xinjiang, finally reaching Urumqi and serving in its only church.

In 1953, after the Communist Party took over the power to rule China, He and Zhao decided to marry in southern Xinjiang. When He was preparing to go to Shule to join Zhao, some tried to dissuade her, saying, “The situation is tense now, and many have been imprisoned. Zhao might face forced labor, if not death. It’s enough for him to suffer; why should you also take the burden?”

She replied, “The door to southern Xinjiang has just opened, and a church has been established. If Zhao dies, what will happen to the church? He has committed himself there; if he is not afraid to die, how can I be afraid? If he is sent to forced labor, I can bring him food; if he dies, I can continue his work.”

After marrying in Shule, the couple served in Shache and Kashgar, where they encountered resistance to their evangelistic work from Muslim leaders. Moreover, the local Communist government suspected them of being counterrevolutionaries or spies for Western countries and continuously pressured them to confess. Amid these harsh conditions, He explained, “Wherever we went, people were kind to us, but we couldn’t evangelize openly, which was hard for us.”

The situation grew more precarious. The churches they had established were forced to close, and there was no longer a place for them to serve, so they had to take other jobs. Zhao took an accounting position, while his wife found work in a garment factory and a kindergarten. Although they couldn’t preach openly, they served the people with a heart for God wherever they were, earning respect from the locals.

In 1966, on the eve of the Cultural Revolution, He, guided by divine revelation, left Xinjiang with her two sons. They returned to Shanxi and Beijing for two years, avoiding the severe persecution in Xinjiang. However, Zhao stayed in Shache. He was labeled a spy, traitor, and counterrevolutionary, enduring harsh criticism and struggle. After the Cultural Revolution ended in 1976, Zhao remained in the region and continued his accounting work until his retirement in 1987.

After the Cultural Revolution ended, He Enzheng returned to the Xinjiang region with her children and was finally reunited with her husband. Both served faithfully in their workplaces. In 1989, Zhao suffered a stroke, which severely limited his ability to walk and speak. However, until his death in 2007, he was always moved to tears whenever he heard the words Back to Jerusalem Evangelistic Band. He Enzheng continued to diligently share the gospel in southern Xinjiang until she passed away in 2014 at age 97.

With regard to the ambitions of the Evangelistic Band, He said:

Sixty years ago, we joyfully embarked on this path. We are still here now, not seeing much fruit … but I firmly believe that he who began a good work in us will carry it on to completion. … Zhao Maijia and I will die here. We never planned to return alive, but we see that others will follow. … I pray that the Lord will continue to call more brothers and sisters with the same Spirit who called us, to complete this work together.

Though Zhao and He did not witness the complete fulfillment of their original vision, their faith and sacrifices have inspired many Chinese Christians to devote their lives to mission. Today the mission of “bringing the gospel back to Jerusalem” through the Xinjiang and Muslim regions in middle Asia continues in various forms within both Chinese and Western churches.

Editor’s note: The Chinese version of this article is reposted with permission from Remarkable Women in Church History, published by Overseas Campus Ministries. The author met and interviewed multiple past coworkers in the Back to Jerusalem Evangelistic Band as well as pastors Dai Shaozeng (James Hudson Taylor III) and Thomas Wang, who personally heard the testimonies told by He Enzheng herself.

Edwin Su is founder and trustee board chairman of Overseas Campus Ministries (OCM) and an expert in Chinese church history. Ding Yijia s a student at Logos Theological Seminary in California and is engaged in full-time student ministry in Pennsylvania with her husband.

Translated to English by Ariel Bi

News

Through Compassion Philippines, Locals Can Now Sponsor Children

Following in the footsteps of South Korea, the most-Christian country in Asia opens its own fundraising office.

Christianity Today February 20, 2024
Courtesy of Compassion International

Three years ago, a group of nearly 48 former Compassion International–sponsored children in the Philippines decided it was time for them to start investing in kids in their own country.

“Because we believe in the power of Christ and the strategies of Compassion in changing lives, we came together and decided that it is now our turn to do the same,” said Glendy Obahib, one of the core leaders of the Compassion Alumni Sponsorship Movement (CASM). “We were blessed with the gift of sponsorship and now we want to become a blessing to others through the same sponsorship.”

A new initiative from Compassion International will make this work even easier. Filipino nationals will now be able to sponsor children within the country and fund community development programs thanks to the establishment of Compassion Philippines Inc., an in-country support office.

The sole focus of Compassion Philippines will be fundraising, unlike Compassion International, which runs the programs. Compassion Australia is helping the new organization set up a legal identity and consulting on registration, insurance, and hiring so that Compassion Philippines can operate as a separate legal entity from Compassion International in the Philippines.

Currently, according to Precious Amor Tulay of Compassion Philippines, the new organization is pursuing bank account approval and securing government permits that will allow them to raise funds and enable donors to claim tax deductions.

Compassion’s staff hopes that this transition will increase support to the Philippines. Today, most of the funding for sponsored children in the Philippines comes from the US, Australia, and South Korea.

“By equipping local fundraising teams, we’re taking important steps towards self-reliance and reducing dependence on external funding sources,” said Tony Broughton, the chief operations officer of Compassion Australia, in a press release. “This means more significant and sustainable impact on breaking the cycle of poverty.”

Since 1972, Compassion International has teamed up with churches to offer “personal, individualized,” and long-term care to 200,000 Filipino children. This year, 475 churches in the Philippines are delivering Compassion-funded assistance to 105,000 children.

In becoming a donor country, the Philippines is following in the footsteps of South Korea, which achieved this status in 2003. Among the 29 countries where Compassion has sponsored children, only South Korea and the Philippines have transitioned to opening their own local support offices. (Outside the US, Compassion has 14 support offices.)

This transition rests on several factors. The Philippines has strong financial capacity and boasts Asia’s second-strongest Christian GDP per capita. The country is also a majority-Christian nation, and local corporate donors will have few qualms about—or might even have a strong interest in—giving corporate social responsibility funds to an explicitly Christian organization.

Compassion has a strong presence in the Philippines, including an extensive community network and thousands of Compassion alumni who financially support children, sponsor leadership programs and training, and do informal fundraising.

The Philippines’ Compassion Alumni Association (CAA) counts about 2,500 alumni in 10 chapters, located in Davao, Butuan, CDO, Iligan, Cebu, Iloilo, Bacolod, Laoag/Baguio, Metro Manila, and Pangasinan.

Levi Carupo became a sponsored child at age eight and was one of the first in Compassion’s programs to receive a college education. Now a partnership manager for Compassion International in the Philippines and the current CAA president, he noted that several of the alumni group’s chapters conduct disaster preparedness, child abuse prevention, and social work trainings for Compassion young people.

“One day we will see a former Compassion-sponsored child become a community leader—a town leader, a mayor who is engaged in his or her community,” Carupo said.

Currently, both CAA and CASM are sponsoring Filipino children by pooling their members’ donations and sending funds through one of Compassion’s global office websites, generally in the US or Australia. CASM sends gifts to its sponsored children, and each child has an assigned letter writer to nurture a personal relationship between CASM and the child. CASM also generates funds through a portion of the registration fees that the Compassion Alumni Leadership Movement collects for its leadership trainings for Compassion-sponsored youth.

As the funding model changes, Noel Pabiona, the national director for Compassion in the Philippines, wants to widen the scope of children being helped by partnering with more churches, including those in the poorest communities.

Currently, the organization has 70 partner churches in tribal communities, led and pastored by indigenous people. It has also become more active in helping communities with significant Muslim populations.

“The good thing about helping the poor [is that] whether you are Muslim or Christian, you are welcome in the community,” Pabiona said. “Even among the Muslims, they welcome help from Christians. The example of Jesus is to show unconditional love overtly, and the rest is up to him. People will be more receptive to your message if they see Christ being demonstrated in your life.”

Compassion offers one-on-one programs to help children and provides resources for complementary interventions or activities that promote children’s overall development. Beyond child sponsorship, the organization offers financial assistance for around 100 Filipino children annually who are suffering from catastrophic illnesses, such as cancer or kidney disease, that require expensive and prolonged medical treatment.

Beyond additional funding, the success of these initiatives rests on partnerships, Pabiona stated. For instance, Compassion is working with Convoy of Hope to provide meals to address child malnutrition. They have teamed up with megachurches and chambers of commerce to help construct school buildings for high school students in eleventh and twelfth grades. (For years, students only needed to finish the equivalent of tenth grade to be considered done with high school, so some schools lack the infrastructure for older students.)

In parts of the country where the organization has active programs, Compassion maintains an open line of communication with local government officials, which allows them to make suggestions as concrete as paving a new road so children can walk to school more easily.

But Compassion’s most enthusiastic cheerleaders are likely to be those who know the organization firsthand, said Pabiona. As an example, he described a former sponsored child, now a licensed engineer, who cleaned the air conditioner of a Compassion partner church during his free time.

“The Lord doesn't just use the ministry to equip [young people], but it also transforms their lives,” he said. “They know Jesus, and they have hope in this life and in the life to come.”

News
Wire Story

Southern Baptists to Launch New Org to Oversee Abuse Database

After years of holdups, a task force says the work of abuse reform is too much for volunteers alone.

Joshua Wester, chair of the SBC's Abuse Reform Implementation Task Force, speaks at the SBC Executive Committee's meeting in Nashville.

Joshua Wester, chair of the SBC's Abuse Reform Implementation Task Force, speaks at the SBC Executive Committee's meeting in Nashville.

Christianity Today February 20, 2024
Bob Smietana / RNS

Leaders of the Southern Baptist Convention’s abuse reform task force announced plans Monday to launch a new, independent nonprofit to host a database of abuse pastors and to implement other reforms.

They still need the money to run it.

The new nonprofit will oversee a proposed Ministry Check website listing abusive pastors, which has stalled since a website for the abuse reforms was launched last year. Currently, no names of pastors are included on the website, sbcabuseprevention.com.

Josh Wester, a North Carolina pastor who chairs the SBC’s abuse reform implementation task force, said the new nonprofit, which he called an abuse response commission, will be independent of the SBC’s current structure.

He said the job of abuse reform was too big for a task force of volunteers to accomplish on their own. That led to the plan to launch a new organization.

“Given the current legal and financial challenges facing the SBC and the Executive Committee, the formation of a new independent organization is the only viable path that will allow progress toward abuse reform to continue unencumbered and without delay,” Wester told members of the Southern Baptist Convention’s Executive Committee during a regularly scheduled meeting on Monday night. “To do this, we have to do this together.”

Wester said the Ministry Check website will include the names of Southern Baptists convicted of abuse and those who have had civil judgments against them. The task force has run into legal and financial delays in getting those names published, Wester said in his report.

The commission will also create an expanded “Ministry Toolkit” designed to help churches prevent abuse and to deal with cases of abuse when they happen. That toolkit will give a step-by-step plan for churches to address abuse, members of the task force said at Monday’s meeting. They plan to have video-based training materials for churches available in time for the SBC’s annual meeting.

“We really believe this could be a watershed moment for the SBC,” said task force member Brad Eubank.

During his remarks, Wester recounted the recent history of the SBC’s abuse crisis, including the 2019 “Abuse of Faith” investigation by the Houston Chronicle and San Antonio Express-News, a follow-up investigation and report from Guidepost Solutions, and a series of reforms passed in 2022 aimed to help prevent abuse and to care for survivors.

He said the reforms might lose momentum if Southern Baptists try to move on from the abuse crisis too quickly.

“But after some time passes from these events, we’re tempted to move on,” he said. “We grow fatigued and weary of the issue. In extreme cases, some of us like to pretend like we never really had a problem at all.”

Wester mentioned two recent high-profile cases that show the scope of the problem—the settlement of a lawsuit against legendary SBC leader Paul Pressler, who was accused of decades of alleged abuse, and the recent story of megachurch worship pastor and author Aaron Ivey, who was fired for allegedly exchanging inappropriate texts with men and, in one case, a teenager.

Abuse is not a big church or a small church problem—and not a theology problem, he said.

“It’s heroes from the past like Paul Pressler,” he said. “It’s heroes from the present like Aaron Ivey.”

Wester’s report did not include any plan to permanently fund the new nonprofit. Currently, the task force’s work is being paid for by funds set aside by the SBC’s two mission boards. He did say that Brent Leatherwood, president of the SBC’s Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, plans to ask ERLC’s trustees to contribute to the new group.

He also said SBC president Bart Barber and leaders of the SBC’s national entities have been supportive and he was confident a plan would be in place in time for the SBC’s annual meeting in June.

“We are asking President Barber and other SBC entity leaders to assist the ARITF in securing the financial resources required to launch this new organization,” he said.

Theology

Doubt Is a Ladder, Not a Home

Contributor

Churches should welcome questions. That doesn’t require embracing perpetual doubt.

Christianity Today February 20, 2024
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Getty / Lightstock / Unsplash

What makes Christianity hard?

There are many possible answers to this question. How you answer it reveals a great deal not only about yourself—your temperament, your station in life, your mind and heart—but also about the context in which you live. Christians in different times and places would answer quite differently.

Suppose, for example, you live in Jerusalem just a few decades after the crucifixion of Jesus. What makes Christianity hard is not belief in the divine or the great distance separating you from “Bible times.” You’re in Bible times, and everyone believes in the divine. No, what makes it hard is the suffocating heat of legal persecution and social rejection. Confessing Christ’s name likely makes your life worse in tangible ways: Your family might disown you; your master might abuse you; your friends might ridicule you. The authorities might haul you in for questioning if you strike them as a troublemaker.

Or suppose you’re a nun in a medieval convent. You’ll live your whole life here, never marrying or bearing children or having a home of your own. You are pledged to God until death. You’re what people will later call a “mystic,” though that’s a rather dry term for having visions you often experience as suffering: ecstatic glimpses of the consuming fire that is the living Lord. What makes Christianity hard? You certainly don’t wonder about the existence of God—you’ve seen God with your own eyes. Nor are fame and wealth a source of temptation; your life is hidden away from the world. But your life is not easy. Faith remains hard.

Or imagine you’re someone else, somewhere else: a priest at a rural parish in early modern England. You live in a time of religious and political upheaval. The Reformation has upended long patterns of worship and expectations of unity. Religious wars rage on the continent, but your decidedly unspectacular charge is a village of farming families. What makes Christianity hard here? That background conflict might be part of it, but far closer to home is the sheer numbing routine, the daily quotidian grind of weather, crops, weddings, pregnancies, illnesses, funerals—Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter—year in, year out; wash, rinse, repeat.

If I were to put this same question to my friends or my college students in America today, I think I know what they would say: What makes Christianity hard in our time and place is doubt.

Doubt about God’s existence; about the resurrection of Jesus; about miracles; about angels, demons, and the gifts of the Holy Spirit; about the biblical texts or the history behind them or the church that gives them to us; about the credibility of all of the above. And all that doubt perches on the precipice of a yawning chasm between “back then” and “here and now”: oppression and slavery and superstition versus liberty and human rights and science. Should we really accept unquestioningly the faith of our ancestors when—we tend to think—we are so much better than them in so many ways?

I’m not describing atheists, apostates, or “exvangelicals” here. This is how many ordinary Christians feel. Or at least, it’s the water they swim in, the intrusive thought in the back of the mind, the semi-conscious source of inertia they feel when the alarm blares on Sunday morning. American Christians face no Colosseum, but this emotional and intellectual pressure is very real. The doubts add up.

It doesn’t help that doubt is in vogue. Doubt is sexy, and not only in the wider culture. I cannot count the number of times I’ve been told by a pastor or Christian professor that doubt is a sign of spiritual maturity. That faith without doubt is superficial, a mere honeymoon period. That doubt is the flip side of faith, a kind of friend to fidelity. That the presence of doubt is a sign of a healthy theological mind, and its absence—well, you can fill in the rest.

The pro-doubt crowd gets two important things entirely right. First, they want space to ask honest questions. Second, they want to remove the stigma of doubt.

They want church to be a place where doubt is not a pathology, where the experience of doubt is not a moral failure, where the doubt produced by questions, or the questions produced by doubt, are welcomed, accompanied, and explored. A church like this would be known for a culture of spiritual hospitality. Ordinary believers could say out loud what really keeps them up at night, rather than keeping it unspoken for fear of judgment or rejection.

We should all want these things. Where churches have erred, pastors should right the ship. We don’t want children and young people thinking questions are bad, much less that following Jesus means believing six impossible things before breakfast.

Where, then, do the pro-doubt folks go wrong? I see four ways.

First, pro-doubters universalize a particular experience. It’s true that doubt is not a fake problem easily solved by a little spiritual bootstrapping. But is believing in an invisible God or the virginal conception of Jesus what makes Christianity hard for everyone everywhere and always? Read enough of Christian literature in praise of doubt and that’s the impression you’ll get.

But look through church history, like I did above, and it becomes apparent that what makes Christianity hard depends on context. Exposure to the lives and writings of fellow disciples from across the centuries, living in vastly different times, places, and cultures, puts our challenges in perspective. They are so often personal, not general; parochial, not cosmic. They are not inevitable or unalterable. Christianity is a lot bigger than the Bible Belt or the secular West.

Second, pro-doubters tend to describe doubt not just as a universal challenge but as a necessary feature of mature faith. There’s a mix of selection bias and classism at work here: Doubters are typically affluent, brainy types with a college degree and a laptop job. None of this is bad; I fit the bill.

But not everyone does, and our experience of faith is not universal. Our tendency to wrestle with doubt is not an essential component of knowing God, a gauntlet that every serious Christian must run. It is simply untrue that faithful maturity is always marked by doubt. Did Moses wonder whether God is real? Did Paul second-guess his vision of the risen Lord? What about Julian of Norwich, our non-hypothetical nun? Must the simple and confident faith of so many of our spiritual elders—the proverbial grandmothers in the pews—really be “problematized” before it is worthy of our respect? The question answers itself.

Third, pro-doubters go too far in making doubt a virtue. Doubt is not a sin, but that doesn’t mean it’s desirable. God may use it for good; it may well be a crucial step in a person’s journey with Christ. But we need not valorize it or celebrate it. In short, doubt doesn’t call for either praise or blame. In most cases, it’s a thorn in the flesh.

At best, doubt is a ladder to climb. But ladders aren’t ends in themselves. We use them to get somewhere, to complete some job. Dwelling forever in perpetual doubt is like making one’s home on a ladder—technically possible but far from ideal. If someone recommended a ladder as a solution to your need of a house, you’d rightly question his judgment.

Finally, pro-doubters mischaracterize the nature of questions. Questions are not the same as doubts. Thomas Aquinas asked thousands of questions in his short life. Augustine’s Confessions alone contains more than 700 of them. What else is a catechism but questions followed by answers? But there’s the rub. Doubt begins with a loss of trust or credibility; questions do not. My children ask me questions every day, not because they doubt me, but because they trust me.

For this reason saints and mystics adore questions, including questions that cannot be answered in this life. Questions arise from and foster our trust in God. Questions grow faith.

To distinguish questions from doubt is not to praise the former by re-stigmatizing the latter. It’s to clarify for believers that while doubt often entails questions, questions do not always (or even normally) entail doubt. That is good news for the anxious among us. Ask away, the church should say. The Lord welcomes your questions.

What, then, makes Christianity hard? Is there an answer that pertains to all of us? As a matter of fact, I believe there is.

What makes Christianity hard is faith, albeit not in the sense many of us expect. For too many Christians raised in the church, faith means mental and emotional certainty, and so the Christian life is defined as believing as hard as you can in difficult things. In this model, when a feral question nudges its nose into the tent, you’re left with only two options: Kick it out by somehow believing harder or accept that your faith is fraudulent and give it up. Having faith means I must work myself into a lather believing weird things that “modern” people in a “scientific” age find incredible. With that as the alternative, no wonder doubt looks attractive!

But faith is not this desperate maintenance of internal certainty. It is just as accurately (maybe even better) translated as faithfulness. To have faith is to keep faith, to maintain fidelity to God, to trust him and become trustworthy in turn. What is universally hard about being a Christian is being faithful to the Lord no matter one’s circumstances.

Whether one lives in times of persecution or alone in a convent, in an epoch of division and war or in an age of skepticism and affluence, in the high tide of medieval Christendom or under Islamic rule in modern Iran, the call of Christ is exactly the same. In every circumstance, Christ invites us to take up our cross and follow him to Calvary (Luke 9:23). We are called, in other words, to die.

Sometimes our deaths are literal; sometimes they are religious; sometimes they are social or financial or familial. Sometimes they are all of these and more (Gal. 2:20). In every case, for all the superficial differences, we wear the same yoke. Christ promises us that this yoke is easy, its burden light—and it is (Matt. 11:30). But the death to self it requires is a daily crucifixion that saps the flesh of its power to hold us in its sway.

Doubt can be part of this struggle. The struggle is real, lifelong, and common to us all. The struggle, however, is not the point. The point is where we are going. The point is whom we are following. The point is that the cross is not the final destination; death is not the end (1 Cor. 15:26, 55–57). We are not doomed to wrestle and suffer and wonder forever. When we walk out of the tomb, we will leave all that behind. Like graveclothes, whatever doubts once bedeviled us will lie piled on the floor. Free of every burden, we will walk into life.

Brad East is an associate professor of theology at Abilene Christian University. He is the author of four books, including The Church: A Guide to the People of God and Letters to a Future Saint: Foundations of Faith for the Spiritually Hungry.

Books

The Quest for a Good Children’s Bible

A children’s ministry veteran explains where kids’ Bibles tend to go wrong—and highlights a few that get it right.

Christianity Today February 20, 2024
Illustration by Monica Garwood

The best children’s Bibles are remarkable works of faith and art. They offer young readers and their families an engaging and accessible introduction to biblical stories and the loving, holy character of God.

But there are plenty of children’s Bibles on the market, and for every wonderful option, another fails to meet this goal. Too many choose moralism over the gospel, standalone heroes’ tales over richly connected narratives, and inaccuracy over truth and care for the original text. The story of God’s love and mercy through the millennia becomes little more than a Christianese-filled Aesop’s Fables.

I’ve long worked in children’s ministry, including leading the children’s ministry at my own church, so I’ve read through and taught from many children’s Bibles over the years. There are Bibles that are a pleasure to read aloud to preschoolers, and there are some that are so simplified (or so convoluted) that story time becomes the worst part of the lesson. For this article, I chose to reread eight of these Bibles, selecting both time-honored bestsellers and promising newcomers:

When re-examining these Bibles, I focused on crucial stories of Creation, Jesus’ birth, and his death and resurrection. I also looked at how each book told the stories of biblical heroes like David and Jonah, and noted which stories the authors chose to include (or exclude). Finally, it was important to me to see how the stories were told, looking at the quality of the writing and illustration.

This research has suggested there are three main ways children’s Bibles tend to go wrong: shallow moralism, narrative fragmentation, and sheer inaccuracy. But there are also ways these children’s Bible authors can get it right, telling the story of the Bible beautifully, accurately, and accessibly.

Here’s what to seek—and avoid—on your quest to add a storybook Bible to your family’s shelf.

Creeping moralism

Moralism in children’s Bibles often happens with the best of intentions—a Bible story seems to have an obvious moral lesson, and children need to learn what is right and what is wrong, so why not use that story to teach kids what they should and shouldn’t do? Many children’s Bibles commonly use the story of Jonah, for instance, to teach children the importance of obeying God.

In The Beginner’s Bible’s retelling of Jonah, there’s a heavy focus on how Jonah and the people of Ninevah disobeyed God and suffered consequences. The story ends with Jonah arriving in Nineveh. “This time, Jonah obeyed God,” the reader is told. “The people in Nineveh were sorry for doing bad things, so God forgave them.”

There’s no mention of the self-righteous anger that consumed Jonah once God spared Nineveh, and there’s little focus on the abundant mercy that God shows both Nineveh and Jonah over and over and over. A story that should be a reflection on the mercy of God and the hypocrisy of our own sin is instead reduced to a watered-down warning: Don’t do bad things.

The impulse to make every Bible story end with a moral lesson is understandable, but the Bible is not a how-to manual. Its climax is not the Ten Commandments but the death and resurrection of Christ. The whole story of Scripture leads up to that moment when the promised Savior comes to deliver his beloved people, and moralizing children’s Bibles severely diminish the power of that story to draw us closer to God and reveal his character.

It isn’t wrong for a retelling to note the consequences of good or bad actions. But to leave it at that is typically to miss the point.

Standalone stories

The point of the story can also be missed when a narrative is presented as a standalone hero’s tale rather than as a piece of the grand redemptive arc of Scripture. This most commonly happens with the classic biblical “superhero” stories like those of David, Samson, or Noah. In children’s Bibles with this failing, they’re presented as fun and exciting. The uglier parts are glossed over, and God’s work is minimized. We lose all sense of how God uses flawed people in a broken world to accomplish his good.

Other times—perhaps in reaction to kids’ Bibles full of standalone stories—we see the opposite problem: A story is lost (or nearly so) in the process of explaining its place in the greater story of the gospel. This happens a few times in The Biggest Story Bible, most notably in the story of Jesus’ birth. The entire narrative between the angel visiting Joseph and the birth of Jesus is condensed into two sentences: “Joseph woke up and did everything the angel told him to do. Mary had a son, and they named him Jesus, which means ‘the Lord saves.’”

The two pages before this are spent describing the prophecies and lineage of Jesus, along with a small section noting how Joseph planned to leave Mary because of her pregnancy. The Scripture foretelling the birth of Jesus is used to paint a wonderful picture of how God keeps his promises through the millennia, something too many children’s Bibles neglect to include. But more theological inclusions like this one come at the expense of the story itself. The Bible is still the greatest story ever told—so the story must be told!

Prioritization of standalone stories also fragments the Bible and leads to crucial parts being left out altogether. Very few of the Bibles I reviewed included the poetry and prophecy of the Old Testament or the Epistles of the New Testament. These biblical books are so important for understanding the character of God and his love for us through the ages—surely children should be given some taste of this feast.

Additionally, perhaps because they are less likely to slot easily into the “superhero” format, stories of women in the Bible were in short supply in the books I reread. Bibles like The Jesus Storybook Bible, God With Us, and The Biggest Story Bible Storybook excluded some or all of the stories of Rachel and Leah, Ruth and Naomi, and Esther.

These narratives were most likely left out for the sake of brevity and simplicity, not because of any ulterior motives. But it’s still vital to show young children how God uses men and women, not mostly men and the occasional woman.

Outright inaccuracy

Most worrisome is inaccuracy in children’s Bibles.

Sometimes, extrabiblical details are added, often with the apparent intent to make a standalone story more interesting or relatable. When describing the creation of Adam and Eve, for instance, The Beginner’s Bible goes out of its way to tell us Adam and Eve were in love. And while this unnecessarily saccharine addition makes it to the page, the idea that Adam and Eve were “very good” images of God is never mentioned. Likewise, 365 Bible Stories and Prayers says the tree of the knowledge of good and evil is covered with “ripe, rosy apples,” though the original account in Genesis never states what type of fruit the tree bore.

In other cases, perhaps as part of the effort to pare down and paraphrase, Scripture can be misinterpreted or misattributed. The Beginner’s Bible is again an offender here; it has the angel saying “with God, all things are possible” to Mary as a reference to her own pregnancy rather than to the pregnancy of her cousin Elizabeth .

And inaccuracy doesn’t only appear through the words of children’s Bibles—it also finds its way into illustrations. One of my most frustrating discoveries when reviewing these Bibles was how many of them used Westernized illustrations, depicting various people groups of the Middle East as lily white. The Beginner’s Bible, 365 Bible Stories and Prayers, Precious Moments, and The Big Picture Bible were all guilty of this.

This misrepresentation is a disservice to the historicity of the Bible, and it’s a disservice to the impressionable young children who read these books. It isn’t difficult to depict ancient Middle Eastern people with a correct range of skin colors, and that should be the bare minimum in the illustration of children’s Bibles.

These mistakes are all likely innocent, but they demonstrate a lack of care for the original text of the Bible and the reality of its history. As the Bible is the true, infallible word of God, even retellings for the hearts and minds of little children require the highest regard for truth.

A few storybook Bible favorites

These problems are widespread in the children’s Bible market, but there are also some truly great options available. The three standout picks from my review—The Jesus Storybook Bible, The Biggest Story Bible,and God With Us—each tell the story of the Bible beautifully and accurately, making it accessible and engaging for little minds without weakening the redemptive narrative that runs through Scripture’s pages.

The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones has become a modern classic for a reason. It has easy-to-understand prose that moves even the hearts of adult readers. (In fact, being pleasurable for readers of all ages is a commonality among all three of these favorites. As C. S. Lewis was inclined to say, “a children’s story which is enjoyed only by children is a bad children’s story.”)

The Jesus Storybook Bible does an excellent job of drawing the reader into each of its Bible stories, but it also concludes every tale with a gesture toward the larger narrative, and it does so in a way that feels neither forced nor tangential. The Jesus Storybook Bible’s greatest weakness is its length. Each story is told carefully, with most running at least six pages long. That means that this Bible has fewer stories than other children’s Bibles do, which is likely why stories like Ruth and Esther are left out.

Similarly, The Biggest Story Bible Storybook by Kevin DeYoung does an excellent job of weaving the truth of the gospel into each page, and Don Clark’s colorfully abstract illustrations bring a unique addition to a well-worn genre. It’s a recent addition to the shelves, as it was only published in 2022.

The Biggest Story Bible contains a good deal of basic theology within its pages. It reminds readers of God’s sovereignty amid the crucifixion story, for example, and points readers toward God’s glory in the creation story. This also leads to the largest weakness of this book, however, which is that it sometimes focuses too much on teaching theology and too little on telling a story. Some parts feel less like stories and more like sermonettes. Despite this, it’s still a great children’s Bible pick for older kids or kids who are already familiar with the basic narrative of many Bible stories.

Lastly, another newer children’s Bible pick is God With Us: A Journey Home by Jeremy Pierre. God With Us tells the story of the Bible from the perspective of two unnamed angels who open each chapter and provide narration throughout the book. This narrative device ensures that none of the stories feel standalone or without context, as the angels constantly remind the readers of God’s character, his promises, and his love.

The unique storytelling in God With Us is matched by Cassandra Clark’s stunning illustrations—she uses watercolor and pen (along with inspiration from medieval illuminated Bibles) to lushly depict life in the time of the Bible. The book’s weakness, however, is the same as that of The Jesus Storybook Bible: its length. Each chapter is around 10 pages long, and the book only has 30 chapters, focusing mostly on the larger arc of the biblical narrative rather than delving into details. It too is missing several classic stories, again including Ruth and Esther.

The weaknesses of each of these excellent children’s Bibles demonstrates a truth we must remember about all of them: Storybook Bibles are no substitute for the Bible itself.

They can be wonderful tools for helping kids get to know God’s Word, but adults must use them alongside the actual Bible—giving fuller context and meaning and telling children the stories, poetry, and wisdom left out of their storybook versions. God’s Word is for everyone, and he speaks through his text to each of us, even the littlest ones. So choose a children’s Bible that tells the story of the Bible well, but don’t forget to read the “grown-up” Bible to your children too.

Rabekah Henderson is a writer covering faith, architecture, and the built world around us. She lives in Raleigh, NC, and has been featured in Mere Orthodoxy, Common Good, and Dwell.

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