If you have watched the news recently, you’ve probably noticed a movement among some Christians pushing for the display of the Ten Commandments in public schools. For many of us, this might feel a bit puzzling. After all, is advocating for the Ten Commandments in schools truly a reflection of the priorities that Jesus called His followers to uphold?

Interestingly, if we look to the Gospels, Jesus didn’t tell His followers to publicly display commandments or religious symbols. His focus was never on outward symbols of faith but on living out a life of compassion, love, and service. He emphasized caring for the poor, feeding the hungry, and welcoming the marginalized. So why has this public display of the Ten Commandments become such a hot-button issue for some?

In fact, it’s surprising how many voices advocating for the Ten Commandments in schools also advocate for cuts to programs designed to support the most vulnerable in society—the very people Jesus called us to care for. These programs address fundamental human needs like food, shelter, and healthcare, aligning directly with Jesus’ teachings about caring for the “least of these” (Matthew 25:40).

If these advocates are proposing these cuts with the expectation that Christians will step up and provide for the hungry, homeless, and needy directly, that’s admirable—but realistically, it’s a burden that faith communities alone cannot bear. Far too often, this push is less about taking on social responsibility and more about ignoring the needs of those who can’t “pull themselves up by the bootstraps.”

“Red Letter Christians,” a term referring to those who give special attention to Jesus’ words in the Gospels, have been criticized in mainstream American Christianity as “progressive” or “social justice warriors.” Yet, these Christians are simply trying to live out the radical love and justice that Jesus embodied. Isn’t it time we reexamine what it truly means to follow Jesus?

The truth is, the priorities of American Christianity seem to have shifted. In many ways, we’ve gone from a movement defined by Jesus’ teachings to a political agenda that, at times, ignores or even contradicts the heart of the Gospel. Instead of focusing on loving God and loving our neighbors as Jesus commanded, some segments of Christianity have taken up the banner of religious nationalism, often at the expense of compassion and justice.

Perhaps instead of focusing on posting the Ten Commandments in schools, we should turn our attention to the commandments Jesus gave us: to love God and to love our neighbors. Let’s ask ourselves, as followers of Christ, how we can more closely align with His teachings—not through symbols or displays, but through tangible acts of love, justice, and compassion. Because, in the end, a life lived like Jesus’ speaks more profoundly than any display of words on a wall.

“You sure don’t look like a pastor,” the man said in a deep voice with a southern twang.

The pastor simply replied, “Thank you.”

What the gentlemen certainly intended to be negative criticism was actually received as a compliment.

The man continued, “Well, it’s just that pastors look a certain way, you know?”

The pastor said, “Actually, I’m not sure what you mean?”

The man then attempted to explain what an “appropriate pastor” looks like and how he just couldn’t wrap his head around pastors not wearing a suit and tie. Just imagine how the man must have felt when the pastor introduced him to his colleague, a female pastor!

So, let’s be honest for a moment, there has been an unspoken…wait, I just called for honesty…So, there has been a spoken expectation that pastors “look the part.” While I do understand this has a different meaning in different settings, the generalized assumption in many mainline congregations is that the pastor will wear a suit, tie, fancy (but not expensive) shoes, robe over the suit for the service, clean shave, well-groomed (not long) hair, no tattoos…and, in some circles, male.

As the man finished his list of “how a pastor should look,” the pastor replied, “Well, I’ve always placed more of a value on ‘being’ than ‘looking’ the part. You see, rather than placing a high value on the pastors appearance, I think it’s more important that the pastor possess the fruits of spirit – which oddly enough have nothing to do with how the pastor dresses.”

In reflecting on this conversation, I’m reminded that there are well-meaning church folk who are much more concerned with the appearance than the heart of the pastor. Some reading this may find themselves thinking, “Oh, that can’t be true.”

Well, let me just say, I can testify that I have received more critique on how I dress than I have on my theology, my preaching, or other aspects of the actual “work” of the pastor.

In a previous congregation, one Sunday I had a slip of the tongue when talking about sheep and accidentally said, “sh*t” during the children’s moment! I was trying to say “sheep sit!” My superintendent happened to be visiting that day. He laughed! A few folks commented, “Oh pastor, that just made me feel a lot better. I guess we’re all human.” Not a single negative comment.

A few weeks later, I wore my nicest pair of jeans (which I rarely wear jeans because I hate jeans), a nice shirt that was actually tucked in, and a sport coat. I received three, yes three (only one signed), letters informing me that it was inappropriate for the pastor to wear jeans.

Now, the sad part is, I’m sure those people really thought I would care about their opinions. I’m sure they thought that their letters would convict me and I would get my wardrobe in order. However, my inner-rebel-spirit would not allow that. The next week featured jeans, an untucked shirt and a sport coat. The week after that featured jeans, an untucked shirt, and get this…no sport coat!

Surprisingly enough, the walls of the church did not fall down. The Spirit still moved. The Word was still proclaimed.

I’m one of those pastors who leads with the “what you see is what you get” approach. I’m not going to be (or dress like) someone I am not. My parents taught me to be confident in who I am. So, I guess if you don’t like my fashion style, you can blame Bob and Jan!

I was always taught that if you received a piece of clothing or shoes from your grandma, mom, wife or kids that it automatically qualified as “church clothes.” Again, if you don’t like my style, blame the people who buy my shirts and shoes!

I guess what I’m trying to get at is this…if the pastors fashion is controversial, it just might indicate that we have lost sight of what is truly important. Seriously, this just might help reveal why those outside the church are less interested with each passing day in what the Church has to offer.

Maybe we can focus on those things that truly matter?

“My faith guides my vote.”

This is a phrase that we often hear the closer we get to Election Day.

The thought behind this statement is that “MY” vote is the “RIGHT” vote because I’m a person of faith and “GOD” directed me to vote for “THIS” candidate.

I generally hear this phrase from folks who have an idea that I may have voted for a candidate other than their preferred candidate. This is an attempt to justify ones vote by saying, “I mean, I know this candidate is not ideal, BUT GOD…” or to say, “If you voted for the other candidate, you must not really take Jesus or the Bible seriously.”

When I hear “my faith guides my vote,” I often reply, “Yep, my faith also guides my vote.”

So, here we have two people, who may have voted for different candidates, both claiming that their faith guided their actions in the voting booth.

Now we have to ask, “Is one person right and the other wrong?” While we all want to respond, “Of course, I AM RIGHT,” the more appropriate answer is “who knows?”.

Both people have strongly held convictions shaped and guided by their faith traditions, prayers and understanding of their sacred text. Both people came to different conclusions. How can this be?

Within my theological heritage, we use something called the Wesleyan Quadrilateral to help inform our understanding of a wide variety of topics. By searching Scripture, tradition, experience and reason, we do our best to come to conclusions that will honor God. At times, we revisit some of our understandings because of access to expanding information that sheds new light on our traditional understanding.

So, yes, both people proclaim that their faith guides their vote. And, both people are most likely being honest when they make that proclamation.

However, those two people just might interpret Scripture and tradition differently. Both people may have had different experiences that shape their understanding and elevate the importance of some issues over others. Both people take what they know, take what they believe, spend time in prayer and study and arrive at different conclusions.

Who is right? Who is wrong? Who knows?

What we seem to have lost in this search for who is right and who is wrong is the ability to have civil conversations. When we find out that one of our Christian friends has a different political stance, we engage in arguments. Sometimes, we even question their faith. I have experienced that firsthand.

We unfollow, unfriend and block them from our social feeds – almost eliminating their existence from our daily lives. We turn them into the enemy. We’ve seemingly lost the ability to “agree to disagree.”

I am terrible at this. I often find myself asking, “How can someone who claims to be a Christ-follower vote for someone like that?” I become dismissive. I become arrogant. I become rude. I add to the division and vitriol that is so prevalent in our world today.

Maybe my neighbor who votes differently than me really is being guided by his or her faith? Maybe I don’t need to judge and dismiss them because I see things differently. Maybe I can find a way to engage in civil conversations, not to dismiss them, not to convince them to see things my way, but to better understand where they are coming from.

“We’re looking for a church that preaches from the Bible.”

It’s a statement that pastors have heard countless times. Whether it’s from someone visiting for the first time, someone you strike up a conversation with in a social setting or a critique from someone exiting the congregation, most clergy have heard this statement.

Now, I’ve been a professional Christian for about 25 years. In those twenty-five years, I’ve yet to visit or work at a church that fails to “preach from the Bible.” I’ve yet to meet a pastor who fails to “preach from the Bible.”

In fact, even when I think back my 23 years as an amateur Christian, I can’t remember ever attending or visiting a church that failed to “preach from the Bible.”

Recently, I’ve heard a few people say they’ve had friends, colleagues and acquaintances say they are searching for a “Bible-believing, Bible-preaching” church. Again, even when throwing “Bible-believing” into the mix, I’ve yet to encounter a church or pastor that fails to pass this litmus test. I mean, even the ones who interpret the Bible in much different ways than I do firmly believe in and preach from the Bible.

When I hear this phrase, I often think of The Princess Bride, when Inigo Montoya says, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

After having the words of Montoya run through my mind, I find myself making some general assumptions about this persons theological perspective. I stereotype this person as being more conservative and more Evangelical than the average United Methodist. Again, this is a stereotype and not limited to one side of the conservative/liberal coin.

I also come to the conclusion that this person would not find what they are looking for in any of the churches I have served. Well, at least not while I’ve been part of those congregations.

What is generally meant when this comment is made is, “I’m looking for a church that will preach sermons that won’t challenge my strongly held religious and political beliefs.”

You see, when pastors preach sermons that challenge us and make us uncomfortable, we are tempted to dismiss it by saying, “that’s not really Biblical, that’s political.”

Often, what has been said by the pastor really isn’t political, but is actually Biblical. We just don’t like what it says because it just might reveal that our primary allegiance is our preferred political party, not Jesus. It’s easier to say, “The church has become too political” or “The church just isn’t preaching the Bible,” than it is to say, “I will not allow my political allegiance to be challenged by my faith.”

What we’re really saying is that we want to find a church that will allow us to remain comfortable holding whatever views we happen to hold.

So, when you hear someone say that they left a church because they didn’t preach the Bible or they were too political, don’t assume that whatever church they last attended did not preach the Bible.

Most likely that church did preach from the Bible, they just didn’t like what the Bible had to say.