I don’t believe the response to every social evil is a boycott. But when a company publically and forcefully comes out on the wrong side of a moral issue, I don’t believe the correct response is to do nothing either. Especially in America, where we have freedom and our choices—whether they be at the voting polls or where we spend our money—make a difference.

The Bible perseveres throughout the course of history. Everything else comes and goes. People, cultures, and nations are like grass and flowers—slowly dying and eventually withering away; but God’s Word abides forever.

How are we to respond to those in authority and those who govern us? In this series, I want to take a closer look at our responsibilities as Christian’s and the role civil government plays in our lives.

We invite guests to church precisely because we care. We care that they hear the gospel or grow as a Christian. We care that God works in their lives through the preaching of His Word and that they are ministered to through the body of Christ. But knowing we care and showing we care are two different matters.

Jesus said more than once that His hour had not yet come. However, just a few hours before He was to be crucified, He proclaimed in John 12:23, “The hour is come that the Son of man should be glorified.”

Recently, I read an article that used an ancient metaphor of a man that asked God to make him stronger in order to be more useful.

If you’ve served the Lord any length of time, you know that the outward expressions of service don’t guarantee a consistent heart for the Lord. The same is true of serving on a church staff. Being in the ministry is no guarantee that you will be strong as a Christian or that you will be diligent in the spiritual disciplines of following God and serving His people.

There are some books that you read, finish, and move on. And then there are books that you read and feel profoundly thankful were written. For me, Forward in the Face of Fear: My Life for Christ in the Muslim World by Edgar Feghaly is in the second category.

I’ll never forget my first roller-coaster ride. Neither will my sister, Michele—my unfortunate companion. Poor Michele. She, who even at ten years old loved roller-coasters, didn’t know that during our hour-long wait in line, my second thoughts were multiplying. This was my first roller-coaster, and I was beginning to think this wasn’t such a great idea. By the time we were being seated, I was truly afraid.