
What makes someone cling to hope when everything in life points to despair? We know that a significant part of our faith involves believing in what God has said, even when our life circumstances appear to contradict what we’re hoping for. We live in the tension of the already and not yet. We have Jesus already, yet we await his return. We have his salvation, yet we also wait for complete sanctification. The tension of delayed deliverance marks the Christian life.
We also see examples of delayed deliverance in the world around us, which serve as signposts for Christians to remember our already-but-not-yet reality. One example is Juneteenth (short for June nineteenth)—a federal holiday in the United States that celebrates the emancipation of enslaved Black people in America. Specifically, Juneteenth commemorates the end of slavery for those in Galveston, Texas who learned of their freedom two years after President Lincoln had signed the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863.
The late emancipation of the men and women in Galveston is a picture of delayed justice. Dreams and prayers for freedom had finally been made a reality—the already—but despite the joy of finally being liberated, other obstacles became more prevalent—the not yet. Black people were free, but the fight for survival remained. The Black community still sits in this tension today, as we look back with joy at the progress we've made while we continue fighting for criminal justice reform, seeking equal access to educational resources, and addressing racial discrimination.
The Black church uniquely experienced the already-but-not-yet tension that carried on after Juneteenth because of their faith. Black Christians saw that Scripture didn’t erase the frustration of delayed justice, but it did give them language to endure it faithfully. They recognized that concepts such as freedom, liberation, dignity, and justice were not merely biblical ideas, but at the heart of the gospel. The Black church’s methods, mobilization, and fight against injustice have always been a response fueled by faith. Here are three truths the Black church has faithfully believed and practiced while enduring delayed justice:
Freedom has always been part of God’s plan for his people—both spiritually and physically. We see God constantly delivering his people from both spiritual and literal bondage throughout Scripture, and the Black Church sought to demonstrate God’s heart for freedom by helping their community overcome discriminatory and oppressive laws. One way this happened was through the formation of the Montgomery Improvement Association (MIA). The MIA was an organization founded in 1955, led by E.D. Nixon, Jo Ann Robinson, and Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to coordinate the Montgomery bus boycott—a thirteen–month protest against the segregation of public transportation. The Black church played a pivotal role, serving as the primary gathering place for official meetings. Even though the MIA and the Montgomery bus boycott were for the betterment of the entire community, the church and religious leaders were deeply involved in the pursuit of justice and freedom for the Black community because of their faith.
Black Christians knew it was possible to live free, even if they weren’t fully free, which is why the Black church helped its community fight for basic human rights. This looked like being involved in voter registration drives due to rampant voter suppression. During the fifties and sixties, many widely known efforts to suppress Black voters existed, such as poll taxes, intimidation and violence, and enforcing literacy tests for Black voters as a prerequisite, even though the community had limited educational opportunities after slavery. Black churches provided a safe place for voter registration and acted as a shelter. Fannie Lou Hamer, a Christian and member of the civil rights movement, laid the groundwork for the 1965 Voting Rights Act through her relentless fight to expand voting rights for Black people. The Black church was also involved in the Poor People’s Campaign of 1968, which was organized by Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) to advocate for economic justice and combat poverty in the United States. The Poor People’s Campaign was a prime example of the call for Christians to use their freedom in Christ to help the poor, needy, and oppressed.
The Black church has always been a place of refuge where the sorrow of having a constant fight could live alongside the joy that God gives us to keep moving forward. Whether it was remaining steadfast during slavery, hopeful during the Jim Crow era, or loving toward enemies when racism still exists, the Black church has continued to stand in the tension that comes with delayed justice while being a beacon. Outside of the church doors, sorrow, frustration, fear of violence, and more persist. But within their doors, the Black church reminded the Black community that our faith in God gives us the resilience to remain hopeful during heartache, joyful during sad news, and expectant when faced with dead ends.
That’s why Juneteenth isn’t just a day to mark emancipation, but a time to reflect on a group of people who knew how to live in the tension of “already but not yet.” So this year, as we celebrate Juneteenth, we can thank God that he is a God of justice who desires his creation to be free. Juneteenth can serve as a reminder that delay is not denial, and we can hold joy and sorrow in our hearts simultaneously. We can use this holiday to remember that we can live free, even when we don’t feel free.

When you hear the word art, different images may come to mind—your kid’s finger-paint masterpiece on the fridge, the mural you pass on the way to work, or the oil painting you saw in a museum. But did you include the Bible in your mental list? The Bible is itself a work of art, and it contains stories of art. Art in the Bible reminds us that all acts of creativity originate in our creator God. Not so sure? Let’s look at four examples in the Bible that highlight the artistry of God and his people.
Genesis 1:1 tells us that in the beginning, God created everything. Like a painter who moves from a blank canvas to a finished piece, God spoke into existence light and land, animals and birds, man and woman. But unlike human artists, who start with materials like paint and a canvas, God created a wondrous world out of nothing. After God created the world, he gave the first couple, who were made in his image and likeness, instructions to “. . . be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28, CSB). God wanted his creation to point back to their creator. And God wanted to be with his creation, too.
In the Old Testament, the Israelites built two important structures to house the presence of God. After the Israelites were rescued from Egypt, God instructed them to build the mobile tent of meeting. Later, Solomon constructed the temple in Jerusalem. God used skilled artists to create and outfit both meeting places with metal and stone fixtures, furniture, curtains, fragrances, and even special garments for the priests—all of which aided in worshipping God (Exodus 31:1–11; 1 Kings 7:13–14). Both structures served as stunning displays of God’s creativity. They provided a beautiful space for the people of God to worship him. But access to both the tent and the temple was limited to certain times and people—until the New Testament.
Before Jesus died, he promised the disciples he would send a helper to be with them in his absence. This promise of a helper puzzled his disciples, but today we understand that he was talking about the presence of the Holy Spirit. When the Corinthians struggled to honor God, Paul reminded them in 1 Corinthians 3:16 that the Holy Spirit resides within each believer. Christians are “God’s temple,” where the presence of God resides. The beautiful structure where God’s glorious presence lives is not a building anymore, but his people—people he created like a potter with clay. We can worship and enjoy our creator all the time because he is always with us.
But God’s artistry goes a step further.
When Paul wrote to the Ephesians, he said in Ephesians 2:10 that each person is God’s “handiwork” created to do good works for the glory of God. This verse echoes God’s command in Genesis 1:28 for Adam and Eve to fill the earth with his good creation. Like Adam and Eve, Christians are to steward the good work he has done in our lives by doing “good works” that point others to God. As Christians, we are living art—God’s handiwork—a visible canvas of God’s work on display. And through our lives and our work, we can glorify God, our creator.
In Revelation, we read of the new heavens and new earth that God promises for all believers. The artistry of new creation will surpass anything we can imagine creating in our present world (Revelation 21:1–5). While many artists have completed canvases on display in museums or in homes, most artists also have a canvas or two they never finished. God, the ultimate artist, used wide sweeping brush strokes to create a world he loves. Unlike a canvas that lays forgotten and incomplete in a studio, what God began, he will complete (Philippians 1:6). Even while we look ahead to God’s promise of new creation, we can trust that God is working in our lives now to make us more beautifully like him.
From the first declaration in Genesis to the new creation promised in Revelation, God’s creativity is on display. Like an artist’s signature in the corner of a painting, every act of creativity serves as a reminder that God, whom we worship, is the master artist. The next time you pass by a piece of art—whether it’s your child’s fridge art, a famous painting, or a patch of wildflowers—remember that this act of creativity has its origin in creator God who “has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

When you read Jesus’s genealogy in the first chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, what names stand out to you? Is it Abraham, the father of our faith? Or maybe David, the revered king of Israel? Maybe it’s Jesus’s mother, Mary. Jesus’s lineage includes a fascinating mishmash of characters, some of whom are well-known and others who are more obscure. One name that’s often overshadowed is Jesus’s father: Joseph.
Is there anything we can glean from this seemingly unremarkable figure?
While it’s true that Joseph is often overlooked and there’s relatively little written about him in the New Testament, he’s an important person to ponder during Christmastime. Although he is “barely mentioned in Scripture [and] forgotten mostly in church history,” as Dan Darling writes in The Characters of Christmas[1], there is much that we can learn from him today.
After the opening genealogy in chapter 1, Matthew’s Gospel transitions immediately to the “birth of Jesus Christ” (v. 18, ESV) and introduces readers to Jesus’s parents, Mary and Joseph. Matthew describes Joseph as “a just man” (v. 19). In light of the scandalous nature of Mary’s pregnancy (Joseph was not the biological father, and they were not married), Matthew details Joseph’s unwillingness to shame Mary, his betrothed. Joseph “resolved to divorce her quietly” (v. 19), which was no small decision.
It’s clear from the next verse that Joseph spent time mulling over what he should do—the Greek word used here is enthumeomai, which means “to revolve thoroughly in the mind” or “consider carefully.” What do you think Joseph was feeling? What do you think his prayers were like?
As Joseph “considered” (enthumeomai, v. 20) what to do, he fell asleep. Have you ever prayed and wrestled with God long into the night, begging to hear from him and pleading for help? I imagine this is where Joseph found himself, out of options and out of energy, drifting into a restless sleep. But while he slept, God sent him a message. Through an angel, God spoke to Joseph. And Joseph heard him.
When was the last time you heard from God? Maybe it’s been so long that you aren’t even sure what his voice sounds like anymore. Keep wrestling. Keep praying. Keep pleading with God. And keep your ears tuned—he may just send you a word when you least expect it.
In every recorded instance when the Lord’s angel visited Joseph and spoke to him (Matthew 1:20–24; 2:13–15; 2:19–22), Joseph responded with obedience. Three times the angel of the Lord “appeared” to him in a dream and three times he “did as the angel of the Lord commanded him.” Every time, Joseph obeyed immediately.
In Matthew 2:13–15, for instance, God sent his angel to Joseph to deliver hard news: “Herod is on the hunt for this child (Jesus), and wants to kill him” (v. 13, The Message®). God instructed Joseph to gather his family and their things “and flee to Egypt.” As you might imagine, moving was much more disruptive in the first century than it is for us. But the Bible says that “Joseph obeyed. He got up, took the child and his mother under cover of darkness. They were out of town and well on their way by daylight” (v. 14, The Message®, emphasis added). That isn’t just obedience; it’s obedience without delay, no matter the cost.
What about you? How difficult is it for you to obey God’s Word immediately like Joseph did? For most of us, the answer is obvious—immediate obedience is immensely difficult, especially when it’s costly. But take heart: by God’s grace, we can obey God like Joseph did.
In the book of James, the author instructs his readers to “be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (1:22, ESV). If we’re ever unsure what hearing and doing the Word looks like—what it requires of us—Joseph gives us an example. Joseph was not a “hearer who forg[ot] but a doer who act[ed]” (v. 25).
And so it should be with us. When we read Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount, or the warnings in Paul’s epistles, or the exhortations in the book of Hebrews, or the commands in Peter’s letters, or the sweet encouragements in 1 John, we should recognize that we are hearing from God much like Joseph did—not news delivered by angels but by the very breath of the Almighty. And like Joseph, we should “[a]ct on what [we] hear” (James 1:22, The Message®).
Daniel Darling,[1] The Characters of Christmas: The Unlikely People Caught Up in the Story of Jesus (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2019).

Romantic love steps into the spotlight in mid-February, but is that the type of love behind the holiday? A closer look at history reveals that romance has nothing to do with the man behind the hearts and chocolates. Rather, the love of St. Valentine points us all to the love of Christ.
The origin of Valentine’s Day traces back to the historical figure St. Valentine. However, the legend of this saint more closely resembles Paul Bunyan than George Washington. From what we know about church history, there were two significant men named Valentine in the third century—a priest in Rome and a bishop in Terni, Italy—with miraculous stories attached to their names. Because of the passage of time, historians aren’t sure which events should be attributed to whom and tend to combine the two figures into one man.
Some sources say Valentine secretly married couples against imperial military policy. Others comment that he healed a blind woman in front of the imperial court, evidencing the power of the gospel to skeptical eyes. Regardless of what is true about the life of the Valentines, there is one historically reliable event historians agree that they share: each was executed for his faith under intense Roman persecution. All we can really know about Valentine is that he served as a Christian leader who gave his life for his faith. That story doesn’t make for a cute Valentine’s Day card.
The celebration of Valentine’s Day that we know today didn’t begin until one thousand years after Valentine died. English poet Geoffrey Chaucer mentioned in his poem Parliament of Foules that birds choose their mate “halfway through the second month of the year.” Since that moment, Valentine’s Day has been associated with passionate courtship rather than remembering the life of a saint in service to Jesus.
But some of you may be thinking: “Why should we care about remembering saints from the past at all?” Looking to faithful men and women of the past who’ve followed Jesus can renew our love for God and inspire us to emulate their devotion.
Saints from church history are part of our “great cloud of witnesses” the author of Hebrews writes about in Hebrews 11 and 12. The example of Christians both present and historic should motivate us to action, saying, “Therefore . . . let us lay aside every hindrance and the sin that so easily ensnares us . . . keeping our eyes on Jesus.”
So, consider Valentine. If all we can know with certainty about his life is that he was a faithful pastor under intense persecution, yet so committed to Jesus that he didn’t renounce his faith when threatened with death, that alone should be celebrated and emulated.
This Valentine’s Day, as we focus on romantic love through food, chocolate, or cards (no matter how cheesy they may be), let’s also model Valentine’s self-sacrificial love for God and others as a leader and a martyr for the faith. While we probably won’t be called to die for our faith, we are called to heed Jesus’s martyr-like words in Matthew 16:24–25: “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of me will find it.”
Valentine’s Day should remind us that true love does exist—“No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).

Scripture repeatedly tells us that God walks with us through the fire—strengthening and refining us—as opposed to yanking us from it. And if there is any entity in the United States that has exemplified what it means to remain resilient in the face of obstacles, it is the Black Church.
Resilience means having the capacity to recover quickly from difficulty—the ability to spring back into shape. And over the past 400 years, Black people have found ways to not only recover from the ramifications of slavery but thrive and keep the faith. Recently, I watched the AND Campaign’s How I Got Over, a five-part documentary series on the history of the Black Church. They highlight how the Black Church has shown resilience through a long history of obstacles. Let’s look at three examples from their series of ways the Black Church has exemplified what it means to never give up on God.
“Success is to be measured not so much by the position one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed.”—Booker T. Washington
The documentary discusses the founding of The Black Church and its many denominations. The Black Church at its conception began because of longstanding racism and segregation—even within Christian institutions. The first Black denomination (AME) was created because white Christians refused to worship alongside Black Christians. And instead of using their rejection as a reason to give up on God, Black Christians showed resilience by clinging to their convictions and pursuing him further.
It would have been easy for any of them to give up—to decide that choosing a different God or a different faith would be more liberating. But when they decided to form their own denominations to continue their worship, they not only displayed God’s impact in their lives, but also revealed a conviction in their hearts that kept them moving toward the cross instead of running from it. They created and sang Negro Spirituals. They formed new churches. They embraced the stories of deliverance, justice, and freedom found in Scripture.
They kept going.
“When the Black Church at its best is the public face of the witness of love and justice, it will be targeted.” —Cornel West
In How I Got Over, we also learn about the significance of the Black Church in the civil rights movement and how Black leaders used their faith in Christ to influence the secular world. Justin Giboney says in this episode, “For Black Church leaders, the gospel was more than a call to action—it was the theme music of the civil rights movement.”
The civil rights movement not only depended on the Black Church but also made huge progress because of it. The church served as a launching pad for many leaders, groups, and rallies. Going to church wasn’t just for spiritual nourishment in this era—political meetings happened at church, resources were mobilized there, and rallies and marches set their meeting points at churches. In addition, Black clergy and church leaders were some of the first Black people to hold positions in government. Black preachers served as politicians, and Black Christians, like Fannie Lou Hamer, fought against voter suppression motivated by strong biblical convictions.
Even though the public witness of Black Christians sparked more obstacles—like the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Alabama in 1963 and many others like it—they harnessed their righteous anger to remain resilient, which eventually resulted in successes like the signing of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Black Christian leaders knew that there was no need to separate the message of the gospel from the fight for justice and equality because taking the gospel seriously and standing on authoritative, biblical ideals meant standing against oppression and racism.
“The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character—that is the goal of true education.”—Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
How I Got Over highlights a few of the different ways that the Black Church opened doors for educational opportunities in the Black community. I don’t know about you but I love school. And being a Black woman, I frequently find myself thanking God for the opportunity to learn from prestigious institutions because I know that it’s due to the determination of those who came before me. Education for Black people was illegal and dangerous for most of American history. And yet, despite being pushed out of opportunities left and right, they prevailed.
One of the main priorities that Black people pursued after emancipation was their education. And during this time, the Black Church provided opportunities for the Black community to learn in a safe and familiar environment. Over time, they were able to advance through the educational system and take advantage of vocational schools, colleges, and graduate schools.
Black people had the determination to take back their dignity and become educated members of society. They used the forced segregation from schools and educational systems to their advantage, creating and funding their own schools, universities, and carving out ways to educate themselves and prove those in power wrong.
All in all, the Black Church has contributed to the faith in many ways, but more than anything, the Black Church is an example of resilience despite the odds set against it. As believers, we know that God has called us to endure, and for the Black Church, endurance is at the foundation of its existence and the reason why it continues to thrive.

The tabernacle furniture doesn’t grab us the way the liberation of God’s people from Egypt does.
Our eyes may glaze over at building materials and measurements, but the intricate detail of God’s first home with the Israelites and the description of how Israel is supposed to act with God in this new space shows us the lengths to which God will go to be with his people. This isn’t just Israel’s story—it’s our story too.
God makes the purpose of this portable worship complex clear to Moses in Exodus 25:8: “They are to make a sanctuary for me so that I may dwell among them” (emphasis added). God will “dwell”—sakan in Hebrew—in the tabernacle similarly to how he “settled”—sakan—on Mount Sinai to give the Law to Moses in Exodus 24:16.
What Moses experienced up on Mount Sinai—talking with God and seeing his glory—God now wants to make accessible, in part, to all his people in the camp. The mountain-top experience will come down to the people wandering in the wilderness. God doesn’t ask his people to climb up to meet with him—he stoops down to live with his people. Starting to sound familiar?
When God moves into our space and time, he changes everything. With the tabernacle, the space between God’s heavenly home and Israel’s earthly existence didn’t just get closer—the two places overlapped and became something new. This new space points back to God’s presence with humanity in the Garden of Eden in Genesis 1–2—the original dwelling place of God and people. God will make his presence known, like he did with Adam and Eve, in this new space where heaven and earth collide—a heaven-and-earth space.
The Garden of Eden imagery shows up throughout the tabernacle instructions. The entrance to the tabernacle was a curtain of blue, purple, and crimson fabrics (Exodus 27:9, 16)—colors not naturally occurring in linens but apparent in nature. There are cherubim—the same angelic beings who prevented Adam and Eve from returning to the Garden of Eden in Genesis 3:24—worked into the design of the curtains. These colors and images of angels signified that those entering the tabernacle were stepping into an otherworldly place. Importantly, however, instead of preventing humanity’s meeting with God in the garden, cherubim welcomed the people into God’s presence.
Another literary parallel to the Garden of Eden involves the progressively ornate materials the closer one gets to the center. The materials used in the outer courtyard are bronze and silver (Exodus 27:1–8; 30:17–21), and the materials used inside the tent are gold (Exodus 25:10–40). But inside the tent, there’s an even more special place—the holy of holies with more gold objects (Exodus 25:10–22). This was the place where God would manifest his presence and meet with the people. The purposeful move from bronze to gold—from the courtyard to the holy of holies—parallels Genesis 2. The creation story moves from the land of Eden—the region God chose to plant a garden—to the actual garden itself and even further to the tree of life “in the middle of the garden” (Genesis 2:8–9). The closer to the center, the more concentrated the divine presence.
Just like God created humanity to be with him and to multiply his rule over the earth, God was doing a new work of creation in and through the people of Israel. God was remaking humanity—and the world—through the people of Israel with the tabernacle. When we see the Garden of Eden imagery while reading the “boring” parts of Exodus, we are reminded of God’s initiative to be with his people and to have his people share his presence with the whole world.
We can be tempted to miss the flashbacks to the Garden of Eden in the tabernacle instructions. But we should not only notice that God moved toward his people in the past; we should also notice that God is still moving toward his people now in the newest heaven-and-earth space—the church.
We don’t have to build precise structures to meet with God like the Israelites. The mountain-top experience that came down to Israel’s wandering camp has now, in the presence of the Spirit, been made available for everyone who trusts Jesus.
Our existence as the new tabernacle—the new meeting place—points toward the ultimate heaven-and-earth place—the renewed creation of Revelation 21–22. One day, God will completely fill the earth with his Spirit and live with us forever in an entirely renewed creation. Upon seeing a vision of God’s restorative plan, John exclaims, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth . . . Look, God’s dwelling is with humanity, and he will live with them” (Revelation 21:1, 3).
The tabernacle in Exodus points us to the renewed creation—the ultimate heaven-and-earth space. And when we doze off reading about the different metals and linens, we can remind ourselves that behind those instructions stands a God who not only wants to be with his people but will stop at nothing to be with them.

As we unpack our nativity scenes from eleven months of storage, placing Mary next to the manger is as normal as singing Christmas carols or watching Buddy the Elf eat gum off the subway railing.
For many of us, though, Mary never leaves the manger’s side. She goes back in storage with the wise men and reappears next year. While Mary serves the miraculous and cosmic role of birthing the Messiah, she is also a faithful witness of what it looks like to model Christ’s action of mediating between God and humanity—telling others what God is like and bringing him their concerns.
You may be thinking, “Wait, isn’t Jesus the only one who mediates between God and humanity?” And that instinct would be right. I’m not talking about mediating salvation between God and people—that’s something that only Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection has accomplished. What I am saying is that, like the prophets in the Old Testament standing as a go-between by proclaiming God’s message to the people and representing the people’s requests to God, Mary shows us how to occupy the space between God and the world as a light that points people to God.
Before traveling to Bethlehem for Jesus’s birth, Mary visited her cousin, Elizabeth, who was also miraculously pregnant. Elizabeth recognized Mary’s unique role as the “mother of [her] Lord” (Luke 1:43) and pointed toward Mary’s faith that God would “fulfill what he has spoken to her” (Luke 1:45).
In response, Mary launched into her famous speech magnifying God’s character—the Magnificat. These ten verses are more than Mary simply responding to her situation with gratitude. Mary shares God’s words not only with Elizabeth but also with us as readers thousands of years later.
Many commentators say Mary’s speech falls in the genre of prophecy. In essence, a prophet served as a mediator between God and people to provide the people with revelation of who God is. Mary comments on her own “humble condition” (Luke 1:48) and how God exalts the “lowly” (Luke 1:52), like herself. By describing herself in these terms, Mary speaks to those who may similarly feel overlooked or unimportant—much like how the people of Israel likely felt at the time of Jesus’s birth. Mary says that God has “helped his servant Israel, remembering his mercy to Abraham and his descendants forever” (Luke 1:54–55) with Jesus’s birth announcement, reminding God’s people that he cares and acts on their behalf.
Through her speech, Mary stepped into the space between God and his people by proclaiming the good news that God’s “mercy is from generation to generation” (Luke 1:50) and that “he has scattered the proud . . . [and] toppled the mighty from their thrones” (Luke 1:51–52). She reminds us that God “has satisfied the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:53). Her song reads like many of the psalms in the Old Testament that proclaim the character of God to people in desperate need.
Mary models how we should be little mediators of God’s presence on earth—declaring his good news to people who need to hear it.
The beginning of Jesus’s public ministry provides a stage for Mary to stand as a type of mediator outside of the Christmas story. Before Jesus began teaching and demonstrating his identity as Israel’s Messiah, he and his disciples were invited to a wedding Mary also attended. As John writes in John 2:1–12, the wine for the wedding in Cana ran out and presented the host family with a problem.
Running out of wine at a celebration in Ancient Near Eastern culture was a social faux pas that would have brought enormous shame on the host family. Seeing this risk and interceding on behalf of the wedding party, Mary went to Jesus with a request without a question, “They don’t have any wine” (John 2:3).
Not only did Mary initiate stepping in as an in-between for the wedding party, but she also went straight to the person she knew could act, revealing her faith. She saw a need and entrusted it to the person who could meet that need.
While Jesus’s response appears harsh (his calling Mary “woman” isn’t derogatory or dismissive as he uses the same word when speaking tenderly to her on the cross in John 19:26), Jesus explained that he was hesitant because he had not begun to reveal his identity as Messiah—which Mary presumably knew—to everyone.
Instead of feeling rejected, Mary reaffirmed her faith in her son by telling the servants to do whatever Jesus told them to do. Jesus may have chosen not to act and told the servants to stand by, but Mary accepted that possibility and left the decision in Jesus’s capable hands. In doing so, she communicated an important truth not only for the servants at the wedding but also for us reading the passage today—obey God regardless of what he calls you to do. Mary advocated for people who had nowhere else to go and instructed them on how they should respond to God’s command—much like how the church operates in the world today.
Maybe it is appropriate that we think of Mary most often during the Christmas season. Christmas often calls us to act in mediatory ways.
This may be someone’s first Christmas alone, and they need to hear from you that God sees them. Perhaps this Christmas someone received bad news and needs you to advocate for them on your knees in prayer. By imitating Mary as she imitates Christ, we can be God’s ambassadors, channeling his overpowering love for them.

Over the centuries, the church developed a year-long pattern of celebrating touchstone moments in our faith. Many churches follow this liturgical calendar in their Sunday worship.
The church calendar is a yearly cycle that starts in late November or early December and follows the life of Jesus, celebrating his resurrection in spring, and remembering the lives of saints for the remainder of the year. Three major holy days circle the season of Christ’s Incarnation and three occur during the Resurrection season, while Ordinary Time marks the other six months with regular Feast Days.
The church year begins with Advent, celebrated during the four Sundays leading up to December 25. During Advent, the church spends time reflecting on the birth of Jesus and his promised return. We acknowledge that we live in a world full of pain and confusion and that we are waiting for him to make all things new. It is a time of anticipation waiting for Christ’s return and the fulfillment of his kingdom.
Also known as the Incarnation, Christmas celebrates when God became a vulnerable baby, marking a seismic shift in the cosmos. God. Became. A human being. Pause and reflect on that glorious truth. As the hymn “O Little Town of Bethlehem” goes: “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. For Christ is born of Mary . . .” But, unlike our cultural celebration, Christmas Day is only the start of the Christmas celebration on the church calendar. The celebration continues through the new year and, for the western church, up to January 6.
The season of Epiphany begins on January 6, the Day of Epiphany, at the end of the traditional twelve days of Christmas. Epiphany means “manifestation” and refers to Jesus being made known to Gentiles—first privately to the three Magi who traveled to find him after his birth, then publicly through his baptism and first miracle. The season “has a narrative arc beginning with the Magi and ending with the Transfiguration. The overall emphasis is the manifestation (showing forth) of the glory of Jesus Christ,” says Rev. Fleming Rutledge, Episcopal priest and author. Our Bible readings progress through the childhood of Jesus into his early days of ministry.
Forty days before Easter, the church inaugurates the season of Lent with Ash Wednesday, a holy day on which believers are encouraged to fast and pray. Lent is traditionally a time of self-denial and repentance, with churches swathed in dark colors. Special church services are held where ashes are smudged on the hands or foreheads of attendees. The traditional phrase pastors speak over congregations is, “From dust you came, to dust you will return,” though some offer an urgent “Believe the gospel!”
The pinnacle of the church year celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ as the one who defeated death and brings hope to all who call him Lord. He is risen! we tell one another. He is risen, indeed! we respond.
The Easter season lasts fifty days, as we follow Jesus's post-resurrection life to his Ascension forty days later and end with the feast of Pentecost.
Pentecost celebrates the new body of Christ, his church sent and empowered to share his love with the world, and falls fifty days after Easter. On this day, we celebrate him sending his Holy Spirit to indwell, fill, and empower his disciples. Churches focus on texts that highlight the Spirit and decorate their sanctuaries in red and white, symbolizing “the tongues like flames of fire” through which the Spirit descended upon the disciples (Acts 2:1–4).
The first half of the church year focuses on Christ while the rest of the year broadens its scope to the entire family of God. Ordinary Time focuses on the lives of biblical characters, telling us that our daily, ordinary lives matter to God and should matter to us as well.
Each day of the year is a feast day dedicated to the memory of a particular saint whose life offers us inspiration. Feast days tend to memorialize martyrs on the day of their death, which early Christians considered to be graduation from life to life. The feasts of Patrick and Valentine remain cultural touchstones even today.
For those who worship in non-liturgical churches, consider some benefits you could gain from observing the church calendar. You don’t have to become fully liturgical, but you may end up adding a few elements common to other denominations to your habit of worship. So, why should you bother?
The church calendar helps us to see the world through the life of Jesus our King. We live in an era where political messiahs come and go. One way to de-emphasize the politics of people is to proclaim the politics of heaven.
We need to walk through Jesus’s whole life and emphasize different events so that God’s people can know the whole story. Easter is not complete without an Ascension Sunday. Celebrating the church calendar helps us understand the total Christ and his total life.
The church calendar gives parents, grandparents, and teachers beautiful ways to catechize, or teach, children about Jesus. It offers a structured way for kids to learn about the life of Christ, the hope of his second coming, and the rhythms of expecting what comes next in the Christian life.
The church calendar helps us grow in our understanding of significant doctrines. Regularly remembering God’s work through Christ and other Christians will encourage us in our own faith.
Our neighbors and friends will see us giving something up for Lent or regularly attending church and they will ask, “Why?” Each feast day or new season gives us an opportunity to talk about Jesus and why he matters so much to us. And sharing those regular observances reminds us that we are part of something larger than ourselves. We love and follow a God bigger than the troubles of this world. That’s good news for us—and our neighbors.
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From Brian Mosley (President, RightNow Media) and Scott Mosley (Vice President, Software & Experience, RightNow Media) on behalf of the Mosley family.
His vision was to use the power of media to put the spotlight on world missions. Priority One International was born, and our grandpa and our dad began traveling the world to film the stories of faithful men and women who were spreading the gospel around the world.
In recent days, our grandpa was diagnosed with liver, colon, lung, and stomach cancer. It was a surprise to us that he had cancer and that it had spread throughout so much of his body. At age 86, he opted to not go through treatments and his body declined faster than we expected. He passed away on June 3, 2023, ten days after his diagnosis, with our grandma (his wife of 69 years) by his side.
When he learned of his diagnosis his first thought was for our grandma—he wanted us to pray for her peace and comfort through this trial and continue to pray for her after he was gone. During one of the visits to the hospital, he shared that he had two choices: he could grumble about his diagnosis or be content in all things, including this trial. He chose to be content and thankful for the life God had given him.
Grandpa would often preach a sermon about having a dream, telling a dream, and doing a dream. By God’s grace and goodness, grandpa’s dream from 1977 came to life, and now—45 years later—Priority One has evolved to become RightNow Media. He was amazed at what God did through the ministry over the decades to serve the church here and around the world.
There will never be anyone else like our grandpa. He will be missed. We hope and pray to continue his legacy of passion for the lost around the world. We’re honored to keep his dream alive by serving the church through RightNow Media.

From Chicago to New York to New Orleans, and in dozens more cities across the country, Irish Americans and those happy to pretend they are flock to parade routes to enjoy the annual exception to the church’s Lenten fast—St. Paddy’s Day.
Patrick himself would likely be somewhat mystified at the legend that has sprung up around his memory. He wasn’t even Irish. Born in Britain around 387, he was sixteen when he was stolen and enslaved by Irish marauders. While working for his master herding sheep, Patrick was drawn back to the faith of his family—his father was a deacon and his grandfather a priest—and became a devoted follower of God. He wrote in his Confession, “More and more the love of God increased, and my sense of awe before God. Faith grew, and my spirit was moved . . .”
Patrick credited God with coming to him in a dream to point him to a ship that would enable his return home. Though the coast was two hundred miles away, he traveled to the port and found a ship ready to take him. When they arrived in Britain only three days later, they embarked on a twenty-eight-day journey by land. They grew hungry as their food ran out, and the sailors turned on Patrick: “What about this, Christian? You tell us that your God is great and all-powerful—why can’t you pray for us, since we’re in a bad state with hunger?” Patrick answered by proclaiming God’s ability to provide, and a herd of pigs walked across their path.
Back in Britain, Patrick was reunited with his family and began his studies anew. Sometime later (records are sketchy—we don’t know how much later), he dreamed that a man brought him letters from Ireland, in which the people he had left “called out as it were with one voice: ‘We beg you, holy boy, to come and walk again among us.’” From then on, he determined to return to Ireland to share the gospel of Christ with them.
His parents and friends, however, opposed his plan to return to Ireland. “Why does he put himself in danger among hostile people who do not know God?” they wondered. Patrick understood that they feared for him and wondered himself how qualified he could be. “I was just an unlearned country person,” he admitted.
But his call from God proved greater than family pressure, insecurity, and lack of training.
When the time was right, he returned to Ireland where he spent the rest of his life. He wrote, “I testify in truth and in great joy of heart before God and his holy angels that I never had any other reason for returning to that nation from which I had earlier escaped, except the gospel and God’s promises.”
The feeding of the sailors during Patrick’s return to England is the only miracle-turned-legend based on his own words. We learn this story straight from his pen. So where did the idea originate that Patrick used shamrocks, the common three-leaf clover, to illustrate the Christian doctrine of the Trinity to local pagans? We don’t know who started that rumor, but we do know that Patrick was profoundly shaped by his trinitarian faith. In his Confession, he wrote:
There is no other God, nor will there ever be, nor was there ever, except God the Father . . . And his son, Jesus Christ . . . Let every tongue confess that Jesus Christ, in whom we believe and whom we await to come back to us in the near future, is Lord and God . . . He has generously poured on us the Holy Spirit, the gift and promise of immortality . . . This is the one we acknowledge and adore—one God in a Trinity of the sacred name.
And those snakes? Ireland has never had snakes—yet another reason we love the Emerald Isle—but they were sacred to the local Druids. The closest explanation for the legend we can get is to see it as an allegory: When Patrick brought faith in Christ, he drove out the Druids and their pagan influence.
For decades, Patrick taught the pagan peoples of Ireland about the one true God. In the two documents still in existence written by his hand, we discover a humble man who remained grateful for God’s grace in his life. He was resilient, standing firm amid suffering, adversity, false accusations, betrayals, and more. Strengthened by his robust trust in God, Patrick the pastor loved his flock loyally. Writing his Confession late in life, he addressed a wide audience:
You all know, and God knows, how I have lived among you since my youth, in true faith and in sincerity of heart. Towards the pagan people too among whom I live, I have lived in good faith, and will continue to do so . . . I have cast myself into the hands of almighty God, who is the ruler of all places.
Patrick died March 17, 461. Saints of the church are historically celebrated on the anniversary of their death, rather than their birth, an acknowledgment that death was the “birthday” of their eternal life. Patrick graduated from life to life.
*All quotes are taken from Saint Patrick’s Confession.

While in seminary, I remember a young woman telling our theology professor why she felt confused about the existence of the Black church and how she didn’t understand why every church in America wasn’t diverse if we’re all supposed to believe in unity. As the only Black woman in the room, I waited to see if anyone would answer her. When no one did, not only did I feel misunderstood, but I also felt frustrated that I was the only one able to provide her with an answer.
Like the woman in my class, many people outside the Black community often misunderstand it. Some hear the term “Black church” and only think of a building filled with Black people. They raise questions about why we even need a Black church or wonder why Black churches aren’t considered problematic. We’re all supposed to be one, right?
Due to our history of racism, longstanding segregation, and cultural differences, there are many misconceptions surrounding the Black church, which ultimately cause further division among Black and white Christians.
It is possible and necessary for us to be unified, but we have to start by understanding each other.
For those outside the Black church, seeking a proper understanding of the full scope of Christian history and listening to Black voices is a great place to start.
The Black church was born out of racism and segregation. Its existence solidified in Philadelphia during the 1700s when Black Christians Absalom Jones and Richard Allen were prevented from worshipping with other members of a predominantly white congregation. In response, Allen formed the first fully independent Black denomination called the African Methodist Episcopal (or AME) Church.
Freestanding Black churches were built as segregation in the United States continued, and many historically Black churches are still in operation. When we use the term “Black Church” today, we can apply it broadly to not only the historically Black denominations like the AME, CME, and COGIC churches, but to any Christian denomination that reflects the traditions and history of the African American experience.
As much as the Black church is rooted in history, it’s also deeply cultural. As Black church communities came together, they became places of refuge. Places of simultaneous freedom and privacy. The church made a way for Black people to raise money, fight for equality together, support Black businesses, and put children through school. The Black church helped Black people not only survive through life, but experience life.
Black Christians maintained a sub-culture that was partially expressed in their church experience. This is what makes the Black church so unique and beautiful—it’s filled with its own traditions, stories, music, and preaching styles that you won’t find anywhere else.
The Black church, therefore, is not merely a religious institution, but its own entity. A culture all on its own with historical roots. It is a lesson in how racism has long-lasting consequences and serves as a reflection of life in the Black community over the course of hundreds of years.
Author and historian Tiffany Gill says the Black church is one of the strongest apologetics for the power and faithfulness of the true gospel. It has survived against all odds and remained a beacon of hope for millions of people. But, the forced segregation of Black people within the Christian faith has cut us off from important Black voices. And because of this history, the voices, teachings, and leadership of white theologians have been the preferred voices of authority within our faith.
But if Christianity consists of all nations, tribes, and tongues, then white voices cannot be the standard or sole perspective for Christianity.
Who better to turn to for a theology of survival, lament, or joy in the midst of sorrow than the Black preacher? What better example of faithful endurance than those who were oppressed for centuries? How much more should we appreciate the Black church and its example of how to remain steadfast in your Christ-given identity despite the constant tearing down of your physical identity?
Black church history is a part of Christian history. We all share the same faith and, therefore, should know and learn from the full story of how the church has experienced Christian living throughout the centuries. My hope is that one day, Black Christians will not have to carry the burden of informing others why there’s a Black church by themselves.
So in the pursuit of highlighting, listening to, and learning from the Black church and Black voices, start by recommending Black pastors, preachers, and theologians when friends or congregations ask for resources on any topic—not just race relations. Be intentional about reading books written by Black authors. Pray that God would make the pursuit of racial reconciliation evident not just in our lifestyles, but in who we listen to. Ask for grace as you check for prejudices when you naturally trust white voices over Black ones.
In your own personal study, listen to teaching from Black voices on RightNow Media, like . . .
The consequences of racism and segregation don’t have to define us—we can learn how to simultaneously appreciate what the Black church has done and collectively mourn the reason for its existence. And we can trust that understanding each other can come once we take the uncomfortable step of not choosing what is comfortable.

I am a Black woman, and I love my heritage. Any reason to celebrate African American culture delights me. Holidays like Juneteenth have always given me a deeper appreciation for my community and the accomplishments we’ve made despite our origin story in the U.S.—especially when racial tensions swell and seem never ending.
Juneteenth (short for June nineteenth) is a holiday that celebrates the end of slavery—more specifically, the ending of slavery in Texas. Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863, ending slavery in America. But it wasn’t until June 19, 1865—two years later—that the enslaved people in Galveston, Texas, found out they were free. From then on, the formerly enslaved families of that community organized festivities on June 19 to commemorate their freedom from slavery.
Considering what the holiday represents, I think it’s important for Christians to celebrate Juneteenth. We should rejoice in the dismantling of such a horrible system. But we should also honor the holiday because we live as a unique example of what it means to walk in freedom. Every celebration can look different—and in most cases, it should. Black people celebrate based on a known and passed-down experience, while others’ celebrations are rooted in their support for the Black community. But a good place to start for all of us is with rejoicing over freedom, reflecting on our current reality, acknowledging the past, and nurturing hope for the future.
I typically carve out time to reflect and pray every year on Juneteenth, and I often think about the idea of freedom. I’m a Black woman who is also devoted to Christ, so I have a lineage of freedom two times over. I live in America as someone whose people were set free. And I am also no longer a slave to sin because Christ has set me free from its power. However, the two are not the same—being free from American chattel slavery is different from white Christians being free in Christ. But because Christians have a nuanced perspective on the implications of freedom, we should rejoice in our spiritual freedom and join the Black community in celebrating their freedom.
I rejoice in the fact that I get to experience life in a way that my ancestors could only ever dream of, and I know that part of that is due to God’s sovereignty. I might always wrestle with why slavery happened to us, but I trust that God is just and brings change in his perfect timing. And even though white Christians can’t rejoice in the same way I do, my hope is that they can rejoice in what God does—justice, dignity, and freedom.
Even though my community is free from chattel slavery, we still fight against the racism and oppression that remain. In a similar way, Christians are free from the power of sin, but we still struggle to overcome it. We put on the full armor of God not because we weren’t given victory but because sin’s presence is still a harsh reality in our broken world. Similarly, we also must continue fighting against the sin of racism in our nation even though the law says we’re all equal.
What does it mean to be free, when the effects of slavery—both spiritually and literally—are constantly before us to witness? It’s a difficult question to think through but wrestling with it can help us appreciate the freedom God has given us.
As believers, we often avoid dwelling on our past sins because we can make a habit of pushing ourselves into shame rather than healthy conviction. But we’ve been called to share our testimony of how Christ has changed us, which involves telling the truth about where we were to show the world that the unbelievable is possible. Jesus can transform us. And I believe the same can be true for our nation. But we can only move forward if we acknowledge the past: the complicity of the church toward slavery, the oppression of Black people, the lasting effects of Jim Crow laws, to name a few.
The testimony of our nation’s grim history can help us see the error of its ways and show us what to avoid in the future. We know what went wrong and why. Just as we all try to learn from our past mistakes, especially as Christians, we can continue to move forward and make progress.
Even though looking back can help us move forward, we have to know what we’re moving toward. As believers, we know that God will make everything right one day—but in the meantime, we have to remember that he is a God of peace, justice, and love. He will not sit idly by while oppression continues to mark its territory. Our hope is that even when his actions are difficult to understand or slower than we’d expect, he is faithful to bring restoration to the world.
As you celebrate Juneteenth this year, sit with the emotions, questions, and sentiments that stir in your heart. Thank God for the freedom he’s given you, but also come boldly before him to ask for the wisdom we need to combat the remnant that sin has left in this world. He’s ready and willing to do it.

Jesus’s resurrection, as “O Holy Night” says, is the breaking of a “new and glorious morn.” That hymn, in fact, bears great significance for us this Easter season. In its first few lines, we find incredible hope:
“O holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear savior’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.”
Jesus’s birth held the promise of a new hope for those who were there to see it. Joseph and Mary and the shepherds were certain of the significance of the child laying in that borrowed feeding trough (Luke 2:7). The “Savior . . . who is the Messiah, the Lord” was “born for [them]” (Luke 2:11, CSB).
Thirty-three years later, the “new and glorious morn” was replaced with hopeless mourning. Jesus’s lifeless, broken body was being placed in a borrowed tomb, and the holiness of that first night was being called into question. The stars that shined so “brightly” at his coming were now dimmed with his apparent departure. The joy of the weary world gave way to deep, guttural groans of lament.
In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve chose to pluck a fruit that they weren’t yet allowed to harvest, and the thorny consequences of that first sin affect us to this day. With one ill-advised bite, the garden became a graveyard that spread death around the globe.
In John’s gospel, we first meet the resurrected Jesus in a graveyard outside the tomb he had once occupied. Mary, soaking the ground outside the tomb with her tears, hears the voice of someone behind her, presuming him to be the gardener.
What’s a gardener doing in a graveyard before sunrise?
Mary’s assumption about the man in the garden, who we know is Jesus, points us to a deeper truth. Jesus, beginning with his death and resurrection, is turning a graveyard into a garden, undoing the curse of sin. He is inaugurating and cultivating the new creation. He is resurrecting this death-soaked world.
The world now has a reason to rejoice.
We celebrate Easter because at the resurrection of Jesus—the new and better gardener—the world is in bloom again. We wear bright colors, sing resurrection hymns, and feast with family and friends because we carry with us the thrill of hope, for “He is risen! He is risen, indeed!”
We couldn’t sing “O Holy Night” without the empty tomb of resurrection morning. The “night of our dear savior’s birth,” would be like any other night if not for the thrilling refrain: “He is risen! He is risen, indeed!”
If you’re interested in learning more about the life of Jesus of Nazareth and the impact of his ministry, check out Journey with Jesus with Dr. Tony Evans, Chrystal Evans Hurst, and Priscilla Shirer.

Many aspiring politicians hope to become president of the United States one day. But the vast majority of them, despite countless county fair hot dogs, late nights, and fundraising emails, will never sit in the Oval Office. Their desires and dreams are based on subjective possibilities beyond their control.
Across the pond, William, son of England’s Prince Charles, hopes to become king of the United Kingdom one day. As the grandson of the queen, the son of the heir apparent, and second in line to the monarchy, he is counting on over a thousand years of law and tradition to guarantee his eventual accession to the throne. It’s safe to say he confidently expects to be king one day.
Whose hope, the politician’s or the prince’s, more closely resembles yours? Like our political candidates, we often use hope to express a desire or wish for a possible outcome. Hope can seem vague and subjective, difficult to pinpoint. It can be a feeling, an impression, a wish—often felt with deep fervency. I really hope my team wins tonight. I sure hope Mom cooks my favorite meal.
Feelings of hope brighten our countenances. But in the end, we’re still waiting for something we can’t guarantee will happen. William’s hope, however, is a confident expectation that his head will one day wear the crown. The law and his family tree are a sure foundation for his hope.
When the writers of Scripture speak of hope in God, they use words of waiting, confidence, and trust. When God is the object of our hope, we wait in confident expectation. Why?
God has proven his reliability, trustworthiness, and power; therefore, our hope in him is well-deserved and sure.
God’s provision and redemptive acts are fulfilled in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The power of biblical hope lies in its object—God’s faithful character and matchless power—rather than the fervency of our feelings.
Jeremiah, praying to God, “Hope of Israel, its Savior in times of distress” (Jeremiah 14:8) and “LORD, the hope of Israel” (17:13).
Paul names Jesus: “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope . . .” (1 Timothy 1:1).
Jesus’s victorious return: “. . . while we wait for the blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:13).
The church is sometimes called “the hope of the world,” but any hope that we offer to the world comes from our savior. Jesus is the hope of the world, and he calls us to share his message of love, grace, and salvation. Because he is all-powerful and ever-faithful, we can look to the future not with dread but with joyful anticipation. We can endure disasters and conflicts and every disappointment with a sense of purpose.
God’s word is true, and his gospel offers hope for each of us individually, for the church as a body, and for the world which hasn’t yet recognized its savior.
“Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you believe so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13).
“For this reason we labor and strive, because we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all people, and especially of those who believe” (1 Timothy 4:10).
“But thanks be to God, who always leads us in Christ’s triumphal procession and through us spreads the aroma of the knowledge of him in every place. For to God we are the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing” (2 Corinthians 2:14–15).
As the body of Christ set apart to bear his name, the church reflects the glorious likeness of our savior. He calls us to shine like stars in the world, proclaiming him in word and deed. The risen Jesus is our hope both now and eternally.
More than even the law and a thousand years of tradition, more than aimless waiting or wishful thinking, we have reason to hope.

This month is not only a time to learn about what Black people have contributed to this nation through art, culture, politics, and inventions, but how we have been able to accomplish so much and remain resilient, considering that the grim reality of slavery defined our origin story in the United States and Caribbean. As believers, this month can be especially beneficial as a time to promote God’s heart for reconciliation, unity, and treating people as the dignity-filled image bearers that they are.
We’ve all heard the names of some of the more prominent figures like Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Harriet Tubman. But to truly celebrate Black History Month means commemorating the heroic efforts of a man named Carter G. Woodson who is known as the father of Black history—and the eventual creator of Black History Month.
Woodson’s story is unique in that it mirrors the collective African American experience. He overcame his own set of difficulties that could have left him stagnant and hopeless but pushed through those hardships and made a huge impact on the world. Born in 1875 to enslaved and illiterate parents in Virginia, he grew up autodidactic since he couldn’t attend primary school regularly.
Despite being poor and lacking consistent schooling as a young boy, Woodson earned a bachelor’s degree, became the second Black person in history to earn a doctorate from Harvard University, founded the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, and wrote numerous books and publications.
Early on in his career, he soon realized that the contributions of African Americans were being seriously overlooked, and it showed in the active suppression of their accomplishments in school textbooks and other media outlets. This realization was soon solidified after he was rejected from attending any of the American Historical Association conferences because he was Black—even though he was a faithful, due-paying member of the organization. This frustration fueled him to dedicate his time to doing historical research and collecting thousands of African American artifacts and publications. Then, in 1926 his idea for Negro History Week was born.
Woodson’s goal was to showcase Black contributions, and he launched what he called Negro History Week (which later became Black History Month) for every second week of February. He summed up the purpose of the week this way:
“It is not so much a Negro History Week as it is a History Week. We should emphasize not Negro History, but the Negro in History. What we need is not a history of selected races or nations, but the history of the world void of national bias, race hatred and religious prejudice.”
Woodson’s idea to put Black accomplishments on display would soon expand, becoming an annual observance for the entire month of February in the United States.
With the racial tensions we’re still dealing with today, many people have often asked why we need a Black history month, saying that it keeps us locked in the past and fuels more division when we should be trying to unite. But for Black people, there is no celebration of the present or the future without acknowledging the past. Our desire and ability to celebrate each other is not only about uplifting our dignity but about encouraging each other through the advancements we’ve made.
When we look back on our nation’s history, we’re brought face to face with the reality that the church has had many opportunities to fight against racism but, unfortunately, has not been seen as the champion of anti-racism that it should have been. But today, the church can use Black History Month to lift its voice against the sin of racism and toward the unique livelihoods of Black lives. The church can use this month to promote Black dignity and accomplishment and to remind the world that, even through an awful history, Black people have always been made in the image of God.
Black History Month is a time to celebrate every triumph that Black people have made despite our horrid origins in the United States. Even while being stripped of our unique African and indigenous cultures, languages, families, and dignity, Black people have made a unique and significant mark on our nation’s history. With Black History Month, we have a concentrated time to reflect on pioneers of the past and current history-makers. Let’s continue to remember the past so that we can continue to influence the future.

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Can we just skip the first seventeen verses of Matthew? The real story of Jesus starts when Joseph struggles with Mary’s news that she’s expecting a baby that isn’t his. At Christmastime, we want to read about dreams and angels and a baby’s birth, not a long list of “begats.”
Right?
Actually, no. Biblical authors always write with purpose. During this Advent season, as we anticipate the second coming of Jesus by contemplating his first coming, let’s consider what Matthew is teaching us through the orderly genealogy.
Including Jesus’s ancestry proves he was born specifically into the family of David. By tracing a direct line from David to Jeconiah to Joseph, Matthew demonstrates that Jesus was a legitimate son of David, qualified to become the future king of Israel.
The names Matthew includes are also important to understanding Jesus. Readers can go back to the Old Testament to learn more about each ancestor mentioned. Careful readers will notice that among forty-two generations in Matthew’s list, five included the mother along with the father. We are meant to note those breaks in his pattern and explore why their stories might be significant.
“Judah fathered Perez and Zerah by Tamar . . .” (Matthew 1:3)
How do you preach a family-friendly sermon about an abandoned daughter-in-law (Tamar) who seduced her father-in-law (Judah) and was declared righteous for doing it? It’s difficult, but knowing the tradition of Levirate Law helps: Judah was morally bound to provide a husband for Tamar after his two oldest sons died, but he refused. Tamar later pursued the justice owed to her by tricking (a very willing) Judah into sleeping with her. Though ready to condemn her apparent immorality, when Judah realized what had happened he admitted, “She is more righteous than I” (Genesis 38:26, NIV). She birthed twin sons, one of whom became a forefather to David and eventually Jesus. The woman often labeled “prostitute” was actually pursuing righteousness—and God blessed Israel through her.
“Salmon fathered Boaz by Rahab . . .” (Matthew 1:5)
The Canaanite prostitute had heard about the nation of Israel, and their mighty God, long before they prepared to overrun her city of Jericho (Joshua 2). When she realized Israelite spies were in her inn, she hid them from her own authorities and proclaimed her allegiance to Yahweh, “for the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on earth below” (Joshua 2:11). Turning her back on her own people and choosing God took guts. Rahab went from the ultimate outsider—an immoral foreigner—to becoming a leading insider, accepted as a faithful member of Judah. She eventually married their leader and became a noteworthy link in the Messianic line. Her courage and faith demonstrate for all of us that God restores the repentant and welcomes all who call on his name.
“Boaz fathered Obed by Ruth” (Matthew 1:5)
Another foreigner grafted into Jesus’s heritage, Ruth came to faith through grief. A Moabite woman, she married an Israelite man who died within ten years, leaving her childless. But her devotion to her grieving mother-in-law, Naomi, reflected the unconditional loving-kindness of Israel’s God whom she pledged to serve. Ruth is, above all, loyal, just as Yahweh is. She, too, married into the leading family of Judah and became a critical link in the long line to the savior.
“David fathered Solomon by Uriah’s wife . . .” (Matthew 1:6)
By avoiding her first name and instead referencing her by her murdered husband’s name (2 Samuel 11), Matthew highlights Bathsheba as a victim. The reference isn’t so much about her as it is about David’s actions toward her. Having abused his power as king and taken her to his bed, then murdering her husband after a failed attempt to cover up the resulting pregnancy, David is the sinner in this story. In his parable to David (2 Samuel 12:1–14), the prophet Nathan confronts him with his guilt, prompting David’s confession that he indeed had sinned. But God chose to fulfill his covenant with David despite David’s evil behavior, because he is a faithful God. Even our worst sins will not discourage him from his purposes. What about Bathsheba? God raised her up through her son Solomon, who became king after David thanks in part to her advocacy (1 Kings 1:15–35). By God’s grace she survived heartbreak and grew into a woman of strength and influence.
“. . . Mary, who gave birth to Jesus who is called the Messiah.” (Matthew 1:16)
The culmination of Jesus’s genealogy centers on his mother, Mary. The rest of chapter one (vv 18–25) assures readers that Mary’s child comes from God himself, that Jesus is the long-promised Emmanuel that Isaiah predicted (Isaiah 7:14). We can explore Mary’s point of view in Luke 2, where we see her willing submission to God’s challenging but amazing call on her life. She was Jesus’s first disciple, believing in him from the very beginning and faithful to stand with him through his life, death, resurrection, and ascension.
The Advent season gives us time to reflect on the first coming of our savior and the longing that God’s people felt as they waited for him. But he did come! Jesus was born—Emmanuel, “God with us”—as part of an extended family whom God worked through to bless the world. As we anticipate his second coming, Jesus’s family line can teach us much about how he wants us to live: faithful, obedient, loyal, courageous, repentant, forgiving.