Pastor Brandon

09/22/2026

We prove our love for God by how we treat the people He loves.

And, inconveniently, God loves all the people we don’t.

People we disagree with.
People who frustrate us.
People we don’t understand.
People we might even consider enemies.

“Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.” — 1 John 4:21

And Jesus didn’t stop with brothers and sisters.

He said:
“Love your enemies.”
— Matthew 5:44

There goes the loophole.

Because God didn’t wait until you were lovable before loving you.

Grace wasn’t given to you as a reward for getting everything right.

And Jesus didn’t say:
Love people when they deserve it.
Love people when they agree with you.
Love people when they vote correctly.
Love people only when it's easy.

He said:
“Love one another as I have loved you.” — John 13:34

As I have loved you.
That’s the standard.

And no, love doesn’t mean agreement.

It doesn’t mean pretending harmful behavior is harmless.

It doesn’t require abandoning wisdom, truth, boundaries, or accountability.

But it does mean the person standing across from you never stops being someone made in the image of God.

Jesus said the world would recognize His disciples by love.

Not our cross necklaces.
Not our voting record.
Not our church attendance.
Not how loudly we hate others' sin.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
— John 13:35

So maybe the question isn’t simply:

Do I believe the right things about God?

Maybe it’s also:

Can people see what I believe about God by the way I treat them?

Because Scripture doesn’t merely say God has love.

It says:
“God is love.”
— 1 John 4:8

And if our Christianity makes us better at identifying enemies than loving them, we should probably ask whether Jesus is still the One teaching us how to be a Christian.

We may have enemies.
But Jesus never gave us permission to stop loving them.

After all, God has loved us through some pretty unlovable moments.

Following Jesus means learning to do the same.

09/21/2026

Maybe I’m being ignorantly optimistic.
Maybe just wishful thinking.

But lately I’ve found myself wondering if the fever is finally starting to break.

Not the fever of one party losing.
Not the fever of another side winning.

The fever of treating our neighbors like enemies.

Maybe more of us are simply saying:

I’m done living like this.

Done with every disagreement becoming a cage match.

Done being told that half the country is evil.

Done letting politicians, pundits, preachers, and algorithms convince us that contempt is a virtue.

Because once you get beyond the culture wars, most of us want remarkably similar things.

Republican or Democrat, we buy gas and groceries in the same economy.

Left or right, we want our families safe.

We want enough money to breathe.
We want to love and be loved.
We want freedom.
We want a little happiness.

And yes, most of us want powerful predators held accountable — regardless of their wealth, last name, political jersey, or who they know.

Some of the people dearest to me are different from me in politics, culture, sexual orientation, beliefs, theology, opinions, and pronouns.

And where we actually disagree, some of them think I’m wrong about things.

I return the favor.

And yet — I love them.

Our differences are real.
Sometimes they matter deeply.

But they are not the most important thing about us.

Jesus never told me to win every argument or conquer every institution.

He told me to love my neighbor.
Love my enemy.
Be merciful.
Make peace.

And Scripture puts it this way:

“Look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.” — Philippians 2:4

That feels far more like Jesus than any version of Christianity that needs power, enemies, or government enforcement to prove itself.

Maybe the fever breaks when we stop asking,

“How do people like me win?”

and start asking,

“How do all of us become neighbors again?”

Maybe being neighbors is the win.

09/20/2026

09/20/2026

Maybe the mess we’re in didn’t start with the people at the top.

Maybe the people at the top are the result of what we kept rewarding underneath:

Cruelty defended as strength.
Loyalty valued over honesty.
Christlikeness sacrificed for political power.

Jesus said a tree is recognized by its fruit.

So instead of only acting shocked by what grew, maybe we should ask what we kept feeding it.

Fear? Resentment?
Tribalism? Contempt?
The idea that compromise is weakness?

The belief that admitting we were wrong means losing part of our identity?

That doesn’t excuse bad leadership.
Accountability still matters.
But removing one person doesn’t automatically change the culture that produced them.

And when we recognize some of this in ourselves, the answer isn’t shame.

It’s honesty. Accountability. And grace.

Grace doesn’t erase consequences.
But it gives us room to admit we got some things wrong — and choose something better.

Because if the person at the top changes... but what we reward doesn’t, we haven’t changed much.

So maybe the question isn’t only:
“Who comes next?”

Maybe it’s:
“What are we becoming?”

For Christians, that question should hit especially hard.

Paul said the fruit of the Spirit looks like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

That is a wildly inconvenient list for a culture addicted to outrage.

Apparently “owning the other side” didn’t make the cut.

Let’s be clear: I don’t want government enforcing Christianity.

But I do want Christians living in public to actually look like Christ.

Kind. Truthful. Humble. Courageous. Self-controlled.

Able to disagree without dehumanizing people.

Able to work with people we don’t fully agree with.

Able to admit when we were wrong.

Able to produce something better than rally applause lines.

Eventually, every piece of fruit falls.
The question is what the tree grows next.

And maybe the work starts closer to home than Washington.

Maybe it starts with us.

09/18/2026

Pastoring was never supposed to be about comfort.

Not Sunday performances.
Not keeping donors happy.
Not protecting the brand.

It’s about faithfulness.
Even when faithfulness costs you.

Daniel didn’t stop praying when obedience became illegal.

Paul didn’t reshape the gospel to make it safer.

The early church wasn’t built by blending in.

But today, too many shepherds are either echoing a politicized counterfeit of Jesus — or staying quiet because rocking the boat might rock the budget.

When truth threatens attendance, silence feels safer. When conviction threatens giving, compromise can look like wisdom.

But fear is a terrible shepherd.

And the pastors who do speak up?

Divisive.
Troublemakers.
Disruptors.
The turds in the Christian swimming pool.

Fine.

But when Israel bowed to a golden calf, Aaron wasn’t standing off to the side shaking his head.

He helped shape it.

That should haunt every Christian leader.

COVID exposed how fragile a lot of modern ministry had become. Some pastors quit. Some cowered. Some discovered that lukewarm is easier to fund than courage.

And now we’re here.

Pastors — across every church and denomination — this is your test.

Movements fade.
Politics shift.
Crowds change.

Truth doesn’t.
Jesus doesn't.

History will remember who stood for Jesus, who bowed to the calf, and who stayed silent while others built it.

Jesus said, “By their fruit you will recognize them.” (Matthew 7:16)

And fruit doesn’t lie.

If this season is producing silence instead of courage, compromise instead of truth, and Christian leaders helping shape a counterfeit Christ instead of confronting it, we need accountability.

The Church does not need more comfortable shepherds when this is over.

It needs faithful ones.

Even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.

Pastors, this season is your job interview for what comes next.

Not your words.
Your fruit.

And for some of you, it’s already speaking loudly.

09/16/2026

If that’s not the fruit we’re producing…
we should explore what our faith is rooted in.

09/15/2026

As Christians, we probably shouldn’t do our own performance reviews.

Ask the people on the receiving end of our campaigns against their sin if they feel loved.

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35