When did the Gospel become so complicated?
I told you at some point we'd have to talk about Jesus. My husband and I co-lead a church, after all, and are going to be embarking on the planting journey again. And honestly? He's just too good not to talk about.
A few years ago, I was wrestling with all the emotions that come with motherhood—the feeling of being unseen, unappreciated, forgotten in the middle of taking care of everyone else.
It was during that season that I felt God gently nudge me toward some of the most overlooked books of the Bible: the minor prophets and those passages you rarely hear preached from. The books without the trendy Bible studies or highlighted verses plastered on coffee mugs.
The unseen books.
The unappreciated books.
And maybe that was exactly why He sent me there.
Because tucked away in those pages is the same message repeated over and over again: no matter who you are, what you've done, or how far you've wandered, God hasn't left.
He waits.
He pursues.
He loves.
And all He asks is that we turn around and run home.
Recently, I found myself in Ephesians.
A little background (because that’s just the preacher/teacher in me): Ephesians is a letter written by Paul; the same Paul who once persecuted Christians. The man who stood by as believers were imprisoned and killed. The man whose life was forever changed on the road to Damascus.
If Paul's story teaches us anything, it's this: no one is too far gone.
Not too broken.
Not too angry.
Not too sinful.
Not too late.
Paul writes this letter while imprisoned in Rome because of his faith. And yet, instead of bitterness, Ephesians overflows with joy.
Love.
Grace.
Hope.
Again and again, Paul reminds believers that Christ loved us and chose us before the foundation of the world. That we all once followed our own selfish desires, but through Christ we are made new.
And while reading it, I found myself asking:
How did we get here?
How did Christianity become so associated with fear?
I grew up in the Pentecostal church of the 90s and early 2000s. We sang from hymnals. We had Sunday night services that lasted forever. And every so often there was a dramatic production designed to make sure everyone left thinking, "I definitely don't want to go to hell."
Now, to be fair - you don't.
But somewhere along the way, it felt like fear became the primary message.
Scare people into Jesus.
Convince them they're bad enough.
Make them afraid enough to change.
And yet when I read my Bible, especially the New Testament, that's not what I see.
I see Jesus.
I see Him eating with sinners.
I see Him touching lepers.
I see Him defending the outcast.
I see Him correcting people, yes, but always with the goal of restoration.
I see love.
When Paul writes to the early churches, he absolutely addresses sin. He calls people higher. He points out where they're going wrong.
But he does it with love.
Because Christ is love.
Not hate.
Not condemnation.
Not humiliation.
Not fear tactics.
Love.
Paul writes in Ephesians 4 that we are to be humble and gentle. Patient with one another. Making allowance for each other's faults because of our love.
And then he paints this beautiful contrast:
The world has hardened hearts.
Followers of Christ are called to renewed minds.
The world lies.
We speak truth.
The world takes.
We use our hands for good.
The world tears people down.
We use our words to encourage.
The world clings to bitterness, rage, and anger.
We are called to kindness, compassion, and forgiveness.
That's the difference.
Not because we're better.
But because we've been loved so deeply that it changes us.
Now, does love mean we ignore sin?
No.
Love isn't pretending destructive things aren't destructive.
Love cares enough to tell the truth.
But truth without love becomes a weapon.
And love without truth becomes empty.
Jesus held both perfectly.
And we're called to imitate Him.
I don't know exactly how we got to this place where judgment often speaks louder than compassion. Where Christians are known more for what we're against than for who we love.
But I do know this:
We need to get back.
Back to grace.
Back to kindness.
Back to compassion.
Back to love.
Because only Jesus saves.
That was never our job.
Our job is to love people so well that they see Him.
To point them toward the One who heals hearts, restores lives, and makes all things new.
And if you've been hurt by the church, I want you to hear this:
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for the times people claiming to represent Christ looked more like the world than like Jesus.
I'm sorry if judgment was louder than grace.
I'm sorry if you walked away believing you were unwanted.
Because you aren't.
You are seen.
You are known.
You are chosen.
You are loved more deeply than you can imagine by a God who has never stopped pursuing you.
He sees you.
He hears you.
He loves you.
And I think that's where the Gospel has always begun.
XOXO Whitney