I’ve been a Southern Baptist my whole life.
What that may mean to you is ‘whoa, disney boycott’ or ‘prohibitionist’.
What it means to me is hard to explain. When I was a kid my prayer in church was ‘Dear God, why is this taking so long?’ The pews were as hard as the preaching. And guess what? Some of it started to sink in. This Jesus (or Je-Sus! as the ol’ country preachers used to say. Syllables may vary by county.) Back then it wasn’t about the Convention or the ACP or whether or not the church was going to split over the color of the carpet in the sanctuary. It was a matter of going and hearing the Word of God. You can fill in the blank on my conversion and Baptism probably. I’m OK with that. It happened. I know it happened and it happened in a Southern Baptist Church where something 20% of the total membership showed up for Sunday School and they all stayed for Church plus a few guests. Sound familiar?
Of course it does. There’s a lot of that going on still in this country. People get together and hear the Word of God preached on Sunday and just about any day in between. I read about missions in strip mall, coffee shops, and abandoned bars. I read about preaching points and evangelistic crusades…you get the point. But most of us have got a humongous freakin’ Sequoia of a splinter in our eye because we’re not happy with their language. Or maybe that pastor has a tattoo that shows when he stands in the pulpit. Maybe the music’s loud as the preaching can get but its the Gospel. You can’t deny the content.
Take some fiber. Man up. Or mind your own business, that’d probably be better.
People need the Gospel, they need Christ. Who are you to deny them that?
“But the word of God is not bound!” Are you?