Why does the Church exist?

That is a multifaceted answer. It comes down to the two primary dimensions that Jesus taught his followers to uphold. Christians are to love God and love their neighbor.

Each week, the community of believers gathers to pray, sing, learn, and share communion as part of their worship of God. These things are practiced alone throughout the week, but Christians come together to lift their voices in unison to Jesus, their Savior.

These faithful people are also there to connect. There is fellowship, conversation, instruction, and prayer for one another.

Recently, I heard a Church leader say that he wants everyone who joins them in worship on Sunday to know that we are here “to walk with you on your faith journey.”

Every human being needs community. The Church may fill numerous roles in a believer’s life, but one of the most significant ways it meets a need is by loving and supporting one another. The Church is composed of people who follow Jesus and love their Lord, and that love is expressed to every person who walks through the doors on Sunday.

If you are thinking about seeing what this “faith thing” is all about, know that we are here for you. If you are new to this journey with Jesus, know that we are here to support you. In a world where individual accomplishment is heralded, the people of God say, “You do not have to walk alone; we want to walk with you on the path of faith.”

Seven days have passed since Good Friday. Five days since the stone was rolled away and the tomb was found empty. Five days since death was defeated, and heaven rang with victory.

Scripture tells us that after His Resurrection, Jesus appeared to His followers over a period of forty days. Yet something is strikingly tucked away in that timeline. After showing Himself to the disciples minus Thomas on Resurrection Sunday, there is silence. No recorded appearances for an entire week. And when Jesus finally shows up again, it is the following Sunday, and this time Thomas is in the room.

That means Thomas waited seven full days to encounter Jesus. Seven days of hearing the testimony of men he trusted. Seven days of seeing the change in their eyes, the fire in their voices, the way they spoke about an empty tomb as though the world itself had been turned inside out. The evidence was compelling. The witnesses were credible. And yet Thomas had not seen Jesus for himself.

I believe most of us know exactly what that week felt like.

We live our Christian life in that in-between space. We spend our lives in the gap between the announcement and the face-to-face encounter. We hold onto others’ testimony. We trust the Word. We reason through the evidence and find it solid. But there are weeks, and sometimes seasons, when the risen Christ feels distant, and we are left simply waiting for Him to walk through the door.

The beauty of the Thomas story isn’t just that Jesus showed up, but that He showed up specifically for the one who was still waiting. Whether it takes seven days or seventy years, the promise remains: the One who defeated death is coming for you.

Keep showing up. Stay in the room. Jesus is coming, and one day you will see him face-to-face.

Recently, I’ve been studying a fast-growing church in Florida, asking a simple question: What can I learn that might strengthen my own ministry? One idea that has stuck with me is their use of “Decision Filters.” These are short, memorable statements that capture the heart of how they operate as a church.

One filter in particular is both simple and striking: “Sled dogs over show dogs.”

The meaning is powerful. Sled dogs are not flashy. They don’t perform for applause. They lean into the harness, pull together, and do the hard, often unseen work that moves the mission forward. Show dogs, on the other hand, are admired for their appearance and performance. They draw attention, but they don’t carry the weight.

This Church has chosen to value sacrifice over the spotlight, not individual recognition, but shared responsibility. Not image, but impact.

This begs the question, “What kind of servant are you?”

In our walk with Christ, it’s easy to drift toward being a “show dog.” We can subtly crave recognition, affirmation, or visibility. We want to be seen, appreciated, even applauded. But the Kingdom of God has always advanced on the backs of “sled dogs.” Those faithful men and women who serve quietly, give sacrificially, and labor together for something bigger than themselves.

The Church is strongest not when a few shine brightly, but when many pull faithfully.

One way to lead a Church is to persuade people that their approach to religion is the only correct one. The preacher’s way of speaking is the most Biblical. The way people are discipled is the most effective. The way the children are taught has very few flaws.

The problem with this mindset is the byproduct. The belief that they are doing everything in the most godly way then leads them to believe that other Christians and Churches are inferior. Almost unnoticeably, the preacher will slip in derogatory comments about other Churches. Slowly, people will cease connections with Christians who attend elsewhere. People begin to think, “The only people who are going to heaven are me and thee. And honestly, I am not so sure about thee.”

Today is a simple reminder that Christianity is not our Church versus their Church. It is the Church versus evil. Our struggle is not against flesh and blood. We battle against spiritual forces in the heavenly realms. Now, I believe some Churches have embraced sin, and that is an enormous problem, but even then, it is often a few loud liberal leaders more than the average Christian.

Lately, I have been confronting this “us-versus-them” mentality within me. I want to make sure I take my stand against evil and not against other Christians.

Frequently, I describe some event from the life of the Christian community I lead to my wife, and then I add, “That is not how my brain works.”

For example, I encourage the leaders of our Church to park farther from the door on Sunday morning. This will give our guests, new believers, and the elderly a chance to park close by and avoid the walk.

Well, a little over a year ago, we built a new parking lot behind our building, and now I have noticed people parking close to the back door. When I asked one of them about it, they responded in disbelief, saying, “But it’s the back lot, so I am far away from the front door.”

While I understood what they were saying, I could not help but think, “That is not how my brain works.” In my mind, I want to park far away from all the doors.

Last night, I finished a small group studying “Taking Every Thought Captive.” Nineteen men and I discussed how to train our thinking to be more like Jesus. This includes handling distractions, avoiding anger, and speaking God’s truth into our lives.

The challenge for all of us, as followers of Jesus, is to change the way we think to align with Jesus. We are to question our patterns of thought and the behaviors they produce. Sometimes we need to look in the mirror and honestly ask, “What was I thinking?”

One reason believers need to keep reading our Bibles is to change the way we think. Another reason we are called to spend time in fellowship with other believers is to challenge the way we mentally process things.

Whenever we say to ourselves, “That is not how my brain works,” the follow-up question should be, “And is that an issue for me as a Christian to address?”

Yesterday, Christians like me celebrated Resurrection Sunday, also known as Easter. It was an exciting day of worship as we focused on Jesus’ resurrection from the dead and what it means to us today. Many of us spent time with families, and it was a day full of joy and happiness.

Then I woke up early this morning, and it was an ordinary Monday. There was work to do, and the celebration was over. The joy of Sunday gives way to the grind of Monday and the work week.

The challenge today is to live knowing the tomb is still empty. When Monday tries to weigh me down, I must remind myself that Sunday’s victory is still true. My past is forgiven, my present has purpose, and I have hope for the future.

My prayer today is that God will fill this ordinary day with His extraordinary resurrection power. And the joy I experienced yesterday will fill my heart today and every day into the future.

Occasionally, people will tell me how much they enjoyed a sermon. Then I will ask what they liked about it. I am usually greeted with one of two responses. After certain sermons, people say, “I learned so much today.” After other sermons, people will say, “It was just a great sermon.”

One group loves a sermon when it teaches them something new. Perhaps it explains something they have never understood, or maybe it showed them something they have never seen. It might even be a trivial piece of information that they had never noticed.

The other group can’t really put their finger on what they liked about it. The sermon made them feel something like love, joy, gratitude, or even guilt. It stirred emotions inside them that made them feel different and they liked it.

Recently, I have been trying to do both with my sermons. I have been walking through some theological explanations and then coupling them with emotionally driven visuals. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Part of that is dependent on the listener. What type of person are they? What were they listening for? What is their personality type?

There is no one thing called “sermon.” A preacher’s message can be anything that connects followers of Jesus with greater devotion to him. Sometimes that comes by informing them of the truth, and other times by making them feel deeply.

This Sunday, we are celebrating Resurrection Sunday, or Easter. My prayer is that when you walk out of worship, you have either learned or felt something. And if all goes really well, I hope you experience both.

When we say that someone sees the world through rose-colored glasses, we mean they tend to view situations or people with excessive optimism, often ignoring negative aspects.

I think it is also possible to have a rose-colored mirror that makes us see ourselves in a more optimistic light, rather than in the truth.

We can view ourselves through a distorted lens. We quietly excuse our sharp words, our stubborn pride, and our small cruelties. These issues are often plain to everyone but us.

The reality is this: we are not the best judges of ourselves. That is why humility is so essential in the Christian life.

Humility is the willingness to say, “I may not be seeing myself clearly.” That honest admission cracks the door open to something beautiful: growth, correction, and the deep encouragement that only truth can bring. It positions us to receive God’s Word not as a vague comfort, but as a loving correction. It helps us hear the wise, mature believers God has placed in our lives, rather than filtering out anything that stings.

Seeing ourselves honestly is rarely pleasant. But that discomfort is not a sign that something has gone wrong. It is often the first sign that something has finally gone right.

Spiritual maturity begins not with confidence in ourselves, but with the courage to question it.

The professor was giving his final lessons of the year. He was trying to rally us as we headed out into the world to do ministry. My friend was sitting beside me with his notebook open, soaking it all up. When the professor reached the end of his series of encouragements, advice, and wisdom, he launched into one final challenge. He told us that the greatest tool we have is our brain, and we need to learn to “think for ourselves.”

I looked over as my friend grabbed his pen and jotted in large letters, “Learn to think for yourself.” I saw it and started to giggle to myself. He saw me, furrowed his eyebrows, as I was being disrespectful in the moment, totally missing the irony of writing a note about thinking for “ourselves.”

That moment is lodged in my brain because I have so often wanted to scream at people, “Would you think?” It could be about their marriage, parenting, finances, or even their behavior in public. Use your brain, people.

I have concluded that my professor was wrong in one aspect of what he said. We should not make it our goal to learn to think for ourselves; instead, we should learn to think Biblically.

Learning to think in ways aligned with God’s will is incredibly hard. It usually goes against culture, it runs contrary to our feelings and flesh, and it does not always seem like common sense.

Thinking for yourself is not a bad idea, as long as you use your freedom of thought to lead you to Jesus and his way of thinking.

1. Spiritual warfare is real. Pray. Pray often.
2. It can take 12 years before you feel like you have gained some momentum in leadership.
3. A room full of men talking about faith might be the most enjoyable part of my ministry.
4. I love talking about the cross of Christ.
5. Easter is coming.
6. Seeing people thrive as they serve the Lord is incredibly encouraging.
7. Hard work plus faith in God can yield unexpected results.
8. Friends are more valuable than gold.
9. Being positive is a choice. Sometimes it takes work.
10. Today is a gift. Be sure to enjoy what he has given you.
    **Bonus – Put your phone down.