Living a True Christian Life

Hank Wilson
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It’s time to return to the roots of Christianity and begin living and preaching about how to be a real Christian.

Episodes

  1. Oct 8

    Christian Is a Name. Love Is the Evidence.

    We Christians have quite a collection of labels. Conservative. Progressive. Evangelical. Traditional. Bible-believing. Spirit-filled. Sometimes those words help explain what we believe. Sometimes they help us find a community. And sometimes we use them to decide who belongs—and who doesn’t. But there is a question underneath all those labels that deserves our attention: When someone encounters our Christianity, what do they experience? Do they feel heard? Do they find compassion? Do they encounter someone willing to help carry a burden? Or do they feel as though they have walked into a courtroom, and we have already appointed ourselves the judge? Today, I want to consider two tendencies that can shape the way we practice our faith: legalism and empathy. These are tendencies any of us can develop. Sometimes both show up in the same person, on the same afternoon. Legalism begins to take hold when keeping the rules becomes the measure of someone’s worth. We become so occupied with whether people meet our expectations that we stop paying attention to their circumstances. Empathy asks us to listen. To consider what another person may be carrying. To remember that the life we can see is only part of their story. And empathy does not require us to abandon our convictions. It requires us to remember that we are dealing with a human being. In Mark chapter 3, Jesus encounters a man with a withered hand in a synagogue. Some people are watching to see whether Jesus will heal him on the Sabbath, so they can accuse him. Consider that scene. There is a man who needs help. There is someone present who can help him. And there are people watching for a violation. Jesus asks whether it is lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill. They remain silent. The passage describes Jesus looking at them with anger and grieving over their hardness of heart. Then he heals the man. That is a sobering picture: people can be intensely concerned with religious observance while becoming unresponsive to the suffering directly in front of them. We should approach that story carefully. Jesus and those debating him were Jewish. This was a dispute within their religious community, and it gives Christians no grounds for dismissing Judaism as legalistic. It does give us reason to examine our own hearts. Because Christians can do precisely the same thing. We can defend a church policy while ignoring the person it hurts. We can win an argument about morality while humiliating someone who came looking for help. We can become so concerned with appearing faithful that we forget to act faithfully toward our neighbor. In Luke chapter 18, Jesus tells the story of two men praying: a Pharisee and a tax collector. Luke introduces the parable as a message to people who trusted in their own righteousness and treated others with contempt. That introduction matters. The problem is self-righteousness joined to contempt. One man’s prayer becomes a comparison: look at what I do, and look at what that other man is. The other asks for mercy. We can hear that story and immediately identify with the humble man. But there is a trap waiting for us. The moment we say, “Thank God I’m better than those judgmental Christians,” we have begun repeating the very pattern Jesus challenged. Even compassion can become a badge of superiority if we use it to look down on someone else. So this message asks something of all of us. Those who place great importance on obedience need to ask whether their obedience is producing patience, mercy, and love. Those who place great importance on empathy need to ask whether their compassion extends to people whose beliefs frustrate them. There is no exemption for the group we happen to favor. Jesus takes sin seriously. He also takes suffering seriously. His encounters with people show us that truth and mercy can meet in the same conversation. We can speak honestly without being cruel. We can hold a conviction without pretending we know everything about another person’s life. We can recognize that an action is harmful and still help the person responsible find a way forward. Think about someone who has stopped attending church. We could begin by deciding that they have become careless about their faith. Or we could ask what happened. Perhaps they are caring for a spouse. Perhaps depression has made getting dressed feel overwhelming. Perhaps someone in that church wounded them, and they have never felt safe enough to explain it. Listening may reveal a need that our first judgment would have concealed. That is where empathy becomes practical. It changes what we do next. We make the call. We bring the meal. We offer the ride. We listen long enough for the difficult part of the story to emerge. And when correction is necessary, we offer it with humility, remembering how often we have needed grace ourselves. Jesus addresses that desire to be seen in another passage, too. In Matthew chapter 6, verses 5 through 8, he says: Matthew 6:5-8 5 “And when you pray, you are not to be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on the street corners so that they [a]will be seen by people. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. 6 But as for you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. 7 “And when you are praying, do not use thoughtless repetition as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. 8 So do not be like them; for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him. Those words deserve consideration in an age when we can put a prayer before hundreds or thousands of people with the push of a button. Sharing a prayer can bring comfort. It can invite people to support someone who is suffering. It can give words to someone who is struggling to find their own. But Jesus asks us to examine the purpose behind what we do. Are we reaching out to God, or looking for an audience? Are we offering encouragement, or hoping people will admire our faith? We cannot know someone’s motives simply by reading their post. A public prayer is not automatically an act of hypocrisy. Jesus’ warning does, however, give each of us a reason to examine our own motives before we press “publish.” And his words about thoughtless repetition remind us that prayer does not depend on impressive language or length. Our Father knows what we need before we ask. There is something reassuring about that. We do not have to perform for God. We can come to him honestly, even when our words are few and our hearts are tired. In John chapter 13, Jesus tells his disciples that their love for one another will identify them as his followers. That gives us something concrete to consider. Whatever label we put beside our name, what evidence does our life provide? Are people safer telling us the truth about their struggles? Does our presence make it easier for someone to seek help? Have we made room for mercy, or only for people who already meet our expectations? We may never agree on every question of doctrine, worship, or church practice. But we can take responsibility for how we treat the person standing before us. Before we classify them, we can listen. Before we correct them, we can examine our own motives. Before we turn their struggle into a lesson, we can help them carry it. Christian is a name we claim. Love is evidence we offer. Let us pray. God, help us recognize the times when pride disguises itself as faithfulness. Give us courage to live by our convictions, humility to examine them, and compassion for the people we encounter. Teach us to listen before judging and to offer mercy as people who need mercy ourselves. May our words and actions make your love more visible. Amen. The post Christian Is a Name. Love Is the Evidence. appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  2. Sep 6

    From Religious Colonies to Religious Liberty

    Was America Founded as a Christian Nation? Welcome back. I’m Hank Wilson and this is Living a True Christian Life. Today, I’d like to take a little detour. We’ve spent quite a bit of time recently talking about the early Church, about men and women who lived their faith in a world where Christianity possessed virtually no political power. Peter didn’t have the government behind him. Neither did Polycarp. Neither did Perpetua and Felicity. In fact, sometimes the government was the very thing they needed protection from. And yet Christianity grew. Now I’d like us to jump forward more than a thousand years and cross an ocean. Because by the time Europeans began establishing colonies in North America, Christianity and political power had developed a very different relationship. And that brings us to a question we hear quite often today: Was America founded as a Christian nation? It’s an interesting question. But I’m not sure it’s the best question. Perhaps we should begin somewhere else. What did the people who settled early America actually believe about religion? And what did they mean when they talked about religious freedom? Because, as we’re about to discover, they didn’t all mean the same thing. Massachusetts Let’s begin in Massachusetts. We often hear that the Puritans came to America seeking religious freedom. And they did. But there’s an important qualification. They primarily wanted the freedom to practice their religion and to build a society shaped by their understanding of Christianity. That isn’t quite the same thing as our modern idea of religious liberty. Massachusetts Bay was intended to be a godly community. Church and civil society were closely connected, and religious dissent could carry serious consequences. Roger Williams discovered that. So did Anne Hutchinson. Both challenged aspects of the religious establishment. Both eventually left Massachusetts. The Puritans wanted freedom from religious authorities with whom they disagreed. They were considerably less certain about freedom for people who disagreed with them. That distinction matters. Rhode Island Roger Williams eventually helped establish Rhode Island. And Williams proposed something much more radical. He believed civil government should not control a person’s conscience. Government could regulate behavior necessary for civil society. But faith? That belonged between the individual and God. Interestingly, Williams wasn’t trying to remove Christianity from society. Quite the opposite. He was a deeply religious man. Part of his concern was that when government acquired the power to control religion, it could corrupt the Church just as easily as the Church could influence government. That’s an idea worth remembering. Religious liberty wasn’t necessarily created because people thought religion was unimportant. Sometimes it developed because people believed religion was too important to be controlled by politicians. Maryland Then there was Maryland. Maryland was established under the Calvert family, who were Roman Catholic, at a time when Catholics faced serious restrictions in England. For a period, Maryland became an experiment in religious toleration. The Maryland Toleration Act of 1649 extended protection to Christians who professed belief in Jesus Christ. That was significant for its time. But notice something. It wasn’t modern religious freedom either. The protection had boundaries. And Maryland’s history would later include bitter struggles between Catholics and Protestants. Once again, Americans were learning that religious toleration becomes complicated when political power changes hands. Pennsylvania Then we come to Pennsylvania. William Penn was a Quaker. And Penn’s vision went considerably further. Quakers themselves had suffered persecution in England, and Penn envisioned Pennsylvania as a place where people of different Christian traditions, and eventually people from other religious backgrounds, could live together peacefully. Penn called it a “holy experiment.” And perhaps that’s exactly what it was. Could people who disagreed about religion still share a civil society? Could government maintain order without deciding whose theology was correct? Those were enormous questions. Virginia Virginia gives us still another model. There, the Church of England became the established church. Taxes helped support it. Parishes performed important civil as well as religious functions. Other religious groups sometimes faced restrictions. So by the eighteenth century, the colonies that would eventually become the United States had already experimented with several different relationships between religion and government. Puritan establishment. Anglican establishment. Catholic toleration. Quaker pluralism. Roger Williams’s liberty of conscience. There wasn’t one American model. There were several. And sometimes they collided. Then Came the Revolution By the time of the American Revolution, generations of colonists had lived through these experiments. And the people we call the Founders inherited all of them. Many of those Founders were religious. Most lived in a culture profoundly influenced by Christianity. Biblical language was everywhere. Churches were important community institutions. Christian ideas influenced morality, education, and public life. But that doesn’t mean all of the Founders believed exactly the same thing. They didn’t. Some were traditional Christians. Some held theological ideas that would make many Christians today uncomfortable. Some were influenced by the Enlightenment. And many combined religious belief with Enlightenment ideas about natural rights, reason, and government. Thomas Jefferson wasn’t John Witherspoon. Benjamin Franklin wasn’t Samuel Adams. And George Washington’s religious beliefs have been discussed and debated by historians for generations. Trying to squeeze all of them into one modern religious category doesn’t help us understand them. It simply makes the history smaller. What Did They Build? Perhaps the better question isn’t what every Founder personally believed. Perhaps the better question is: What kind of government did they create? The Constitution contains a remarkable provision. Article VI says that no religious test shall ever be required for federal public office. Think about how unusual that was in a world where governments had spent centuries deciding which religious beliefs qualified someone for public life. Then came the First Amendment. Congress could make no law respecting an establishment of religion. And Congress could not prohibit the free exercise of religion. Those two ideas belong together. Government could not establish the faith. Government could not suppress the faith. Religion was protected partly by limiting government’s authority over it. And perhaps the colonies help us understand why. The people who created the United States didn’t have to imagine what religious establishments looked like. They had lived with them. So Was America Founded as a Christian Nation? We’re back where we started. And my answer is that history gives us something much more interesting than a simple yes or no. America emerged from a culture deeply influenced by Christianity. That should not be erased. Christian beliefs, institutions, language, and moral traditions profoundly shaped colonial America and many of the people involved in the founding. But a society influenced by Christianity is not necessarily the same thing as a government constitutionally established as Christian. The United States did not create a national church. It did not require federal officeholders to profess Christianity. Instead, it gradually developed a system intended to protect religious belief by preventing the federal government from choosing which religious belief would rule. And perhaps that’s where this history becomes important for Christians today. The Christian Question Maybe Christians are asking the wrong question when we ask: “Was America founded as a Christian nation?” Perhaps the more important question is: Does Christianity need the power of government in order to be Christian? We’ve just spent considerable time studying the early Church. Those Christians had almost no political power. They couldn’t pass laws requiring people to behave like Christians. They couldn’t elect Christian emperors. They couldn’t demand that government enforce Christian doctrine. Sometimes they couldn’t even gather safely. And yet… They changed the world. They did it by serving. By teaching. By caring for the poor. By opening their homes. By enduring persecution. By forgiving. By loving their neighbors. And by living lives that made other people wonder what was different about them. Perhaps there’s something there for us. Religious liberty gives Christians an extraordinary gift. We are free to worship. Free to preach. Free to teach. Free to serve. Free to disagree. Free to persuade. Free to live our faith openly. Maybe the question isn’t whether America was founded Christian enough. Maybe the better question for Christians is whether we are living Christian enough with the freedom we’ve been given. Because Christianity has never been strongest when people were forced to believe it. C

  3. Jul 31

    The Women Who Helped Build the Church

    Over the past several weeks, we’ve met many remarkable builders of the early Church. We’ve spent time with encouragers, pastors, teachers, apologists, scholars, and martyrs. Most of them have been men, not because women were absent from the story, but because history and those who tell the history have honestly left them out. Today, I want to pause and remember some of the women whose faith, courage, generosity, and devotion helped build the Church from its very beginning. When we think about the first century, it’s important to remember the world in which these women lived. In both Jewish and Roman society, women often possessed few legal rights and limited opportunities. Their voices were frequently overlooked, and their contributions were not always recorded with the same care as those of men. Yet when we open the pages of the New Testament, we discover something remarkable. Jesus saw them. He taught them. He welcomed them. He valued them. He entrusted them with important responsibilities. That was extraordinary for His time…… The post The Women Who Helped Build the Church appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  4. Jul 24

    Origen and The Courage to Ask Questions

    If there was ever a man who loved to ask, “Why?”, it was Origen. He lived in one of the great centers of learning in the ancient world, Alexandria, Egypt. Alexandria was where scholars from every corner of the empire gathered. Ideas were exchanged, debated, challenged, and refined. Origen grew up in that world. But more importantly, he grew up loving Christ. While Origen was still a young man his father was martyred for his faith Reportedly Origen wanted to join him, but his mother prevented him from leaving home. Whether every detail of that story has come down to us exactly as it happened doesn’t really matter, because it tells us how the early Christians remembered him, not as someone chasing fame, but as someone whose devotion to Christ ran deep. As he grew older, that same devotion took a different path. Instead of carrying a sword, he carried a pen. Instead of seeking applause, he sought understanding. He devoted his life to studying Scripture, teaching others, and writing about the Christian faith. Long before printing presses, computers, or searchable libraries, Origen spent countless hours reading, comparing manuscripts, teaching students, and writing by lamplight because he believed God’s Word deserved our very best effort. The post Origen and The Courage to Ask Questions appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  5. Jul 15

    The Family Conversations: When Christians Disagreed

    The Family Conversations When Christians Disagreed Opening Invitation As we’ve walked together through the lives of the early builders of the Church, one thing has become abundantly clear. These were remarkable men and women. Barnabas encouraged. Peter discovered restoration. James taught practical faith. Mary Magdalene demonstrated unwavering devotion. Ignatius faced death with courage. Justin Martyr defended Christianity with reason. Clement of Rome called believers to unity. Polycarp showed us how to finish faithfully. Tertullian challenged the Church to stand firm. Clement of Alexandria reminded us that loving God also involves loving truth. Each has left us a gift. Yet if we’ve learned anything from their lives, it is this: They weren’t perfect. And neither was the Church they helped build. Sometimes we imagine that the early Church enjoyed complete agreement on every question. But when we read the New Testament and the writings that followed, we discover something quite different. The early Christians loved Christ deeply. They also wrestled with difficult questions. And perhaps that should not surprise us. Whenever people sincerely seek the truth, thoughtful conversations naturally follow. Today, I’d like us to listen in on five of those family conversations. Not so we can reopen old arguments. But so we can better appreciate how the Church gradually came to understand and express the faith that had been entrusted to it. Conversation One – Who’s Jesus? This was the question beneath almost every other discussion. The earliest Christians confessed that Jesus was Lord. But what exactly did that mean? How was He both fully human and fully divine? How could He be one with the Father while still praying to the Father? These weren’t abstract philosophical puzzles. They mattered because they touched the very heart of salvation. If Jesus were only a remarkable teacher, then Christianity would become another philosophy. If He were only divine and not truly human, then He couldn’t fully share in our humanity. Generation after generation, faithful believers searched the Scriptures, prayed, debated, and sought language that remained faithful to what the apostles had proclaimed. Conversation Two — Which Writings Belong in Scripture? The earliest Christians treasured many writings. They read the Hebrew Scriptures. They shared letters from Paul. They copied the Gospels. Churches exchanged these precious documents across the Roman Empire. Then came people like Marcion, who argued that some books should be rejected altogether. His conclusions forced the Church to ask an important question: “Which writings have truly been received from the apostles?” Notice what happened. The Church did not invent Scripture. It carefully recognized the writings that had already been received, read, and trusted among the churches. Sometimes difficult questions help us better appreciate what we already possess. Conversation Three – How Should We Read the Bible? Not every passage of Scripture is alike. Some are historical. Some are poetry. Some are prophecy. Some are parables. How should they be understood? Some teachers emphasized the literal meaning. Others explored deeper symbolic and spiritual meanings. This wasn’t an attempt to change Scripture. It was an effort to understand it more fully. One of the great gifts of the early Church was its willingness to keep asking honest questions while remaining anchored in Christ. Conversation Four – What Does Faithful Christian Living Look Like? As Christianity spread throughout the Roman Empire, believers faced new challenges. How much should they participate in Roman society? How should Christians respond to persecution? How strictly should the Church discipline those who had failed? Tertullian believed Christians should maintain a clear distinction from the surrounding culture. Others emphasized restoration and pastoral care. These conversations were often passionate because everyone involved wanted the same thing: To follow Christ faithfully. Conversation Five – How Do We Preserve Unity? Perhaps the most beautiful conversation of all was about unity. The early Church was remarkably diverse. Jews and Gentiles. Rich and poor. Educated philosophers and ordinary laborers. People from different languages, cultures, and traditions. How could they remain one body? Clement of Rome reminded believers that humility preserves unity. Ignatius encouraged churches to remain connected. Again and again, we see the same desire. Not uniformity. Unity centered on Christ. What These Conversations Teach Us As I look back over these early centuries, I’m struck by something. The Church wasn’t built because everyone always agreed. The Church endured because believers kept returning to Christ as their foundation. Sometimes they disagreed. Sometimes they struggled. Sometimes they corrected one another. But beneath those conversations was a shared desire to remain faithful to the Gospel they’d received. That should encourage us. Because thoughtful questions are not the enemy of faith. Honest searching, guided by humility and Scripture, has always been part of the Christian journey. Closing Reflection As we bring this chapter to a close, perhaps we should resist the temptation to imagine the early Church as either perfect or hopelessly divided. It was neither. It was a family. Like every family, there were moments of disagreement. Moments of misunderstanding. Moments of growth. Yet through it all, Christ remained the center. Perhaps that’s the lesson these family conversations still offer us today. We don’t preserve the faith by pretending difficult questions don’t exist. We preserve it by seeking the truth together, with humility, with grace, and with our eyes fixed on Christ. In our next and final chapter, we’ll step back from history and ask one final question. After all we’ve learned from these remarkable men and women… What does it mean for us? Because the story of the early Church did not end in the third century. In many ways… It continues through each of us. The post The Family Conversations: When Christians Disagreed appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  6. Jul 5

    Clement of Alexandria  Loving God With the Mind

    Welcome to Builders of the Early Church. Clement of Alexandria  Loving God With the Mind In this series we’ve been walking alongside the remarkable men and women who helped shape Christianity during its earliest centuries. Each one has brought something unique. Barnabas encouraged. Peter showed us restoration. James reminded us that faith must be lived. Mary Magdalene demonstrated devotion. Ignatius taught courage. Justin Martyr defended the faith. Polycarp finished faithfully. Tertullian challenged us to hold firmly to our convictions. Today we meet someone who asks a different question. His name was Clement of Alexandria. And his question was simply this: Can loving God include loving truth wherever it is found? Let’s walk together and find out. A City Unlike Any Other To understand Clement, we first have to understand where he lived. Alexandria, Egypt, was one of the great intellectual centers of the ancient world. Scholars gathered there. Philosophers debated there. Books were collected there. Ideas from across the Roman Empire met in one extraordinary city. Imagine walking through streets where people discussed mathematics… Astronomy… Medicine… History… Philosophy… It was an environment alive with questions. And it was into that world that Clement brought Christianity. A Teacher More Than a Debater Unlike Tertullian, Clement rarely sounds like he’s standing in a courtroom. He sounds like a teacher. He isn’t trying to win arguments. He’s trying to help people grow. He believed that becoming a Christian didn’t mean abandoning your mind. It meant allowing your mind to be transformed. For Clement, education wasn’t the enemy of faith. Education could become one of the ways we honored God. Truth Belongs to God One of Clement’s most important ideas can almost be summarized in a single sentence. All truth belongs to God. If something is genuinely true… It ultimately reflects its Creator. That didn’t mean Clement accepted every philosophical idea. Far from it. He measured every idea against the teaching of Christ. But he refused to believe that Christians should fear learning. Instead, he believed that careful thinking could strengthen faith. The Spiritual Insight When I think about Clement, I’m reminded of something Jesus said. We are to love God with all our heart… All our soul… And all our mind. Sometimes Christians have accidentally acted as though faith requires us to stop asking questions. Clement believed the opposite. Questions, honestly pursued, could become part of our discipleship. Learning wasn’t a substitute for faith. It was one way faith continued to grow. The Comparison Layer This is where Clement becomes a fascinating companion to Tertullian. Tertullian asked, “How do we protect Christianity from the world?” Clement asked, “How can Christianity transform the world?” Neither man was trying to weaken the Gospel. Both wanted to preserve it. They simply emphasized different dangers. Tertullian feared compromise. Clement feared unnecessary fear of learning. Perhaps the church has always needed both voices. One reminding us to guard the truth. The other reminding us not to fear honest inquiry. Walking With This Today I wonder if Clement’s message is especially important today. We live in a world overflowing with information. Questions come quickly. Ideas travel instantly. Some Christians respond by avoiding difficult questions altogether. Others become so fascinated with ideas that they lose sight of Christ. Clement encourages a better path. Learn. Read. Think deeply. But let Christ remain your compass. Knowledge is a wonderful servant. It is a poor master. The Legacy of Clement Clement helped shape a generation of thoughtful Christian leaders. Among those influenced by his teaching was a remarkable young scholar named Origen, whom we’ll meet in our next episode. Clement’s greatest legacy may not have been a single book. It may have been the people he inspired to continue asking faithful questions. Closing Reflection When I think about Clement of Alexandria, I don’t picture a warrior. I picture a teacher. Someone who welcomed students. Someone who wasn’t afraid of questions. Someone who believed that every honest search for truth could ultimately lead us closer to Christ. Perhaps that’s the invitation he leaves us today. Don’t stop learning. Don’t stop asking thoughtful questions. But don’t lose sight of the One who is Himself the Truth. Because Christianity has never asked us to choose between faith and thoughtful reflection. It invites us to bring both to the feet of Christ. “I’ve spent my life studying history, technology, communications, and now artificial intelligence. None of those things have weakened my faith. If anything, they’ve deepened my appreciation for the God who created a universe worth exploring.” As we close today, perhaps we might ask ourselves: How can I love God not only with my heart… But also, with my mind? Because when our hearts and minds grow together… Our faith becomes deeper, steadier, and more mature. The post Clement of Alexandria  Loving God With the Mind appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  7. Jun 28

    When Saints Stumble…The Difference Between Failure and Hypocrisy

    Welcome. Today I’d like us to step away from our journey through the early church for just a little while. Over the past several weeks we’ve spent time with Barnabas… Peter… James… Mary Magdalene… Ignatius… Justin Martyr… Polycarp… Tertullian… As I prepared those episodes, something kept returning to my mind. None of these people were perfect. In fact, if we’re honest… Some of the greatest men and women in Scripture failed in remarkable ways. Which raises a question. If God uses imperfect people… What makes the difference between a saint… and a hypocrite? Let’s walk together for a few minutes and see what Scripture has to say. The Bible Never Hides Human Failure One of the reasons I’ve always trusted the Bible as a historical document is because it doesn’t read like propaganda. Most ancient civilizations polished the reputations of their heroes. The Bible doesn’t. It tells us about Noah becoming drunk. It tells us about Abraham lying. It tells us about Moses losing his temper. It tells us about David committing adultery and arranging the death of Uriah. It tells us about Peter the Apostle denying the Lord he loved. Those stories aren’t there to embarrass God’s people. They’re there because they’re true. And because God isn’t writing the story of perfect people. He’s writing the story of redeemed people. The Pattern As I looked at these stories, I noticed something. The pattern repeats again and again. Failure. Conviction. Repentance. Restoration. Transformation. That is the rhythm we see throughout Scripture. Not because God’s people never sinned… But because when they were confronted with the truth… They had a choice. Some confessed. Some hardened their hearts. The Bible records both. David and Saul Perhaps the clearest example is found in two kings. King Saul. And David. Both sinned. Both were confronted. But their responses were very different. Saul explained. Saul blamed circumstances. Saul defended himself. David simply said, “I have sinned against the Lord.” David’s confession didn’t erase the consequences. His family still suffered. His kingdom still bore scars. Forgiveness is not the same as the removal of consequences. But confession reopened the door to fellowship with God. Peter and Judas The New Testament gives us another comparison. Peter. And Judas Iscariot. Both betrayed Jesus. Peter denied Him. Judas handed Him over. Neither man was without guilt. Yet one returned. One allowed himself to be restored. The other never came back to the One who was willing to forgive him. The difference wasn’t simply what they had done. It was what they did afterward. So What Is Hypocrisy? Today we often use the word “hypocrite” to describe anyone who sins. But I don’t think that’s how Scripture uses the word. A hypocrite isn’t someone who falls. A hypocrite is someone who insists there has been no fall. Someone who presents an image of righteousness… While refusing to acknowledge the truth. There’s an enormous difference. Christians stumble. Every one of us does. The question is not whether we have failed. The question is whether we are still willing to repent. The Danger of Self-Justification One of the first things that happened after sin entered the world was blame. Adam blamed Eve. Eve blamed the serpent. Throughout history we see the same temptation. To explain. To justify. To minimize. To compare ourselves with someone else. Repentance moves in the opposite direction. It says, “I was wrong.” There is something deeply freeing about those words. Because once we stop defending ourselves… God can begin transforming us. Walking With This Today Perhaps that’s why I find the lives of the saints so encouraging. Not because they never failed. But because many of them allowed God to change them. Barnabas became an encourager. Peter became a shepherd. Mary Magdalene became a faithful witness. Polycarp endured. None of them began as finished people. They became people who kept saying “yes” to God’s work in their lives. Maybe that’s what sanctification really looks like. Not pretending we’re already complete. But allowing Christ to continue shaping us. A Question for Ourselves It’s easy to recognize failure in someone else’s life. It’s much harder to recognize it in our own. Perhaps today the Holy Spirit isn’t asking us to examine someone else’s heart. Perhaps He’s quietly asking us to examine ours. Where have I become defensive? Where have I stopped listening? Where have I mistaken stubbornness for faithfulness? Where might God be inviting me—not to shame—but to repentance? In Closing The older I become, the less impressed I am by people who claim they’ve never been wrong. And the more impressed I become by people who can quietly say, “I was wrong.” “I’m sorry.” “Please forgive me.” Those may be some of the most Christlike words we ever speak. Because the Gospel has never been about pretending we don’t need grace. It’s about discovering that God’s grace is greater than our failures. So if you’ve stumbled… You’re in good company. The pages of Scripture are filled with men and women who stumbled. What made them saints wasn’t that they never fell. It was that, by God’s grace, they kept getting back up. And perhaps that’s the invitation Christ extends to each of us today. Not to defend ourselves. Not to pretend. But simply… To come home. I’m Hank Wilson, I’ll see you next time on “Living a True Christian Life” The post When Saints Stumble…The Difference Between Failure and Hypocrisy appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  8. Jun 15

    Tertullian of Carthage – When Conviction Burns Hot

    (Note) this is not an exact transcript of the recording, I tend to go off script when the spirit moves me – especially in the segment headers Welcome to Builders of the Early Church. Tertullian of Carthage – When Conviction Burns Hot In this series, we’ve been walking alongside the men and women who helped shape Christianity during its earliest centuries — people whose faith, courage, wisdom, and devotion helped carry the Gospel from one generation to the next. Today, we meet someone very different from Polycarp. Polycarp reminds us of endurance. Tertullian reminds us of conviction. His name was Tertullian. And if some of the leaders we’ve studied feel warm and pastoral, Tertullian often feels sharp and intense. He was brilliant.He was fearless.He was deeply committed to the purity of the Christian faith. And yet, his story also reminds us that one of the greatest strengths a believer can possess can become dangerous when it loses balance. So today, let’s spend some time walking with Tertullian. He was a different kind of Christian leader Tertullian was born in Carthage, in North Africa, sometime in the second century. Tertullian lived roughly from 155 AD to 220 AD (some scholars place his death as late as 240 AD, but around 220–225 is the most commonly cited estimate). Unlike many of the earlier leaders we’ve studied, he grew up in a world where Christianity was already established enough to be noticed. Not accepted. But noticed. He was highly educated. Many scholars believe he trained in law and rhetoric, which helps explain why his writing feels so powerful. Tertullian did not write like a gentle pastor. He wrote like an advocate making a case before a court. Every argument was carefully constructed. Every point was driven home. Every challenge was confronted directly. The World He Faced The Roman Empire often viewed Christians with suspicion. They were accused of strange practices. Misunderstood by their neighbors. Sometimes persecuted by authorities. And many Christians felt pressure to compromise. To blend in. To soften their distinctiveness. Tertullian looked at that environment and reached a firm conclusion: The church must remain different. Not slightly different. Distinctly different. The Voice of Conviction One of the things that made Tertullian so influential was his willingness to defend Christianity publicly. He challenged false accusations. He exposed unfair treatment of Christians. He argued that believers should not be condemned simply because they bore the name of Christ. But his concern went beyond defending the church from outside attacks. He also worried about what was happening inside. He feared that Christians might slowly absorb the values of the surrounding culture. That concern drove much of his writing. The Famous Question Tertullian is remembered for asking a question that has echoed through Christian history: “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” By Athens, he meant philosophy and the wisdom of the pagan world. By Jerusalem, he meant the faith revealed through Christ. Now, Tertullian wasn’t rejecting learning entirely. His concern was deeper. He worried that Christians might become so fascinated with worldly wisdom that they would lose sight of the Gospel itself. It’s a question that remains relevant. How do believers engage culture without being shaped by it? How do we learn from the world without surrendering our identity? The Spiritual Insight When I look at Tertullian, I see someone who understood that conviction matters. Christianity is not merely a collection of inspiring ideas. It asks something of us. It calls us to faithfulness. To integrity. To holiness. Tertullian reminds us that there are moments when believers must be willing to stand apart from the crowd. Moments when conviction becomes more important than popularity. The Other Side of the Story But this is where Tertullian’s story becomes especially interesting. Because every strength carries a shadow. The same passion that made him courageous also made him rigid. The same desire for purity that protected the church sometimes made him impatient with weakness. As he grew older, Tertullian became increasingly attracted to a movement that emphasized strict discipline and spiritual rigor. Many Christians felt he had moved too far. Too uncompromising. Too severe. And this is one of the reasons I find him so fascinating. Scripture and history rarely give us perfect heroes. They give us real people. People whose gifts are genuine. People whose struggles are genuine. And sometimes those two things are closely connected. The Comparison Layer As we’ve walked through this series, we’ve encountered many different expressions of faith. Barnabas encourages. Peter demonstrates restoration. James offers wisdom. Mary Magdalene embodies devotion. Ignatius shows courage. Justin Martyr engages the mind. Clement preserves unity. Polycarp endures faithfully. And now Tertullian teaches us conviction. He reminds us that truth matters. That faith should shape our lives. That the church should never lose its distinctive witness. Walking With This Today Perhaps Tertullian’s story raises an important question for us. How do we hold our convictions? Do we compromise them too easily? Or do we wield them so harshly that we forget grace? The challenge of Christian maturity is not choosing between truth and love. It is learning how to hold both. Strong convictions. Open hearts. Firm faith. Gentle spirits. That balance is never easy. But it is essential. The Legacy of Tertullian Despite the controversies surrounding parts of his later life, Tertullian’s influence on Christianity was enormous. Many theological ideas that later became standard Christian language were shaped by his writing. His courage strengthened believers. His arguments defended the faith. His passion challenged complacency. And even his shortcomings offer us wisdom. Because they remind us that conviction must always be accompanied by humility. Closing Reflection Tertullian lived in a world that constantly pressured Christians to compromise. His response was clear. Hold fast. Remain faithful. Do not lose sight of the truth. And perhaps that remains a needed message today. But alongside it comes another reminder: Truth is strongest when it is joined with grace. Conviction is healthiest when it is tempered by humility. And faith shines brightest when both walk together. As we close today, let’s take a quiet moment to reflect on our own convictions. Where is God calling us to stand firm? And where might He be inviting us to hold that firmness with greater gentleness? Because the goal is not merely to win arguments. The goal is to become more like Christ. The post Tertullian of Carthage – When Conviction Burns Hot appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  9. Jun 5

    Polycarp of Smyrna, A Faith That Endures

    Polycarp of Smyrna, A Faith That Endures Welcome to Living a True Christian Life and another in my series Builders of the Early Church. In this series, we’ve been walking alongside the men and women who helped shape the earliest generations of Christianity, people whose lives still speak into our own in quiet and powerful ways. Today, I want us to spend some time with a man who may not be as widely known as Peter or Paul… but whose faith became one of the great testimonies of the early church. His name was Polycarp of Smyrna. And what makes his story so meaningful is not one dramatic moment at the beginning… It’s the fact that he remained faithful over the long journey of life. In a world that celebrates quick success and loud moments, Polycarp reminds us of something deeply important: There is extraordinary power in enduring faithfulness. So today, let’s walk with Polycarp for a little while. A Man Connected to the Beginning Polycarp lived close to the apostolic age. According to early Christian tradition, he was taught by the Apostle John, one of the original disciples of Jesus. That means Polycarp stood very near the living memory of Christ. He belonged to that important generation that carried the faith forward after the apostles began passing from the scene. And perhaps that’s one reason the early church respected him so deeply. He represented continuity. The faith was being handed carefully from one generation to another. The Quiet Work of a Shepherd Polycarp served as bishop of Smyrna, an important city in Asia Minor. But what stands out about his life is how ordinary much of it must have seemed. He taught.He prayed.He guided believers.He protected the church from false teaching. And he did this year after year. Not for attention.Not for recognition. Simply because he believed Christ was worthy of faithfulness. Sometimes we imagine church history as one dramatic event after another. But most of the Christian life, then and now, is lived quietly. Polycarp reminds us that steady faithfulness matters deeply to God. A Church Under Pressure As Christianity spread across the Roman Empire, opposition increased. Christians were viewed with suspicion. Refusing to worship Roman gods was seen as dangerous and unpatriotic. Persecution rose and fell depending on the region and the emperor, but the pressure was always there beneath the surface. And by the time Polycarp reached old age, that pressure came directly to him. The Crisis — One Final Choice Polycarp was arrested as an elderly man. Authorities urged him to renounce Christ. And honestly, from a human perspective, it would have been understandable. He had lived a long life.He had already served faithfully for decades. Surely no one would blame an old man for trying to save himself. All he had to do was speak a few words. But Polycarp refused. And his response became one of the most remembered statements in early Christian history: “Eighty-six years I have served Him, and He has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” There’s something profoundly moving about that. Not anger.Not bitterness. Just settled conviction. A lifetime of walking with Christ had anchored his soul. The Spiritual Insight When I look at Polycarp’s life, I see someone who understood that Christianity is not only about beginning well. It is about remaining faithful over time. There’s a kind of faith that burns brightly for a season. And then there’s the kind of faith that quietly continues through: hardship aging disappointment uncertainty changing generations Polycarp reminds us that endurance is one of the most beautiful forms of spiritual maturity. The Comparison Layer As we’ve walked through this series, we’ve seen many different expressions of faithfulness. Barnabas encouraged others. Peter was restored through grace. James brought wisdom and stability. Mary Magdalene remained devoted at the cross. Ignatius stood firm under persecution. Justin Martyr engaged the intellectual world. Clement worked to preserve unity. And now Polycarp shows us how to finish faithfully. Not perfectly. Faithfully. Walking With This Today Polycarp’s story speaks quietly into modern life. Most of us will never stand before Roman authorities. But many of us understand the slow challenge of endurance. Remaining faithful when life becomes routine.Continuing to trust God through difficult seasons.Holding onto hope when culture shifts around us. Sometimes the greatest act of faith is simply continuing. Continuing to pray.Continuing to love people.Continuing to trust Christ. And perhaps we underestimate how powerful that kind of steady witness really is. The Legacy of an Enduring Life What strikes me most about Polycarp is that his life became a bridge. He connected the apostolic generation to the generations that followed. And that’s how Christianity survived. One faithful believer teaching another.One generation carrying the truth forward to the next. In many ways, the church has always moved forward through ordinary people quietly remaining faithful. Closing Reflection Polycarp lived in a difficult and uncertain world. He watched Christianity grow.He watched persecution rise.He watched generations change. And through it all, he remained steady. Not famous in the worldly sense. But faithful. And perhaps today, that is the invitation before us as well. Not to chase dramatic moments.Not to seek recognition. But simply to continue walking with Christ over the long journey of life. Because a faithful life, one that is lived steadily over time, becomes its own testimony. And sometimes the quietest faith leaves the deepest legacy. Let’s take a quiet moment to reflect on where God may be calling us not merely to begin well… but to endure faithfully to the end. The post Polycarp of Smyrna, A Faith That Endures appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

  10. May 20

    Clement of Rome the Unity That Holds the Church Together

    Clement of Rome the Unity That Holds the Church Together Hello I’m Hank Wilson and Welcome to Builders of the Early Church. In this series, we’ve been walking alongside those who helped shape the earliest generations of Christianity, not as distant figures, but as real people whose faith was lived out in real moments of tension, growth, and uncertainty. Today, we walk with someone who oftentimes doesn’t stand in the spotlight. He didn’t travel widely like a missionary.He didn’t leave behind dramatic moments of crisis or confrontation. But when the early church began to fracture from within… he stepped in. His name was Clement of Rome. And his life asks a question that feels very close to home: What holds a community together… when it begins to pull apart? A Quiet Leader in a Growing Church Clement lived in a time when the church was expanding rapidly. The message of Christ had moved beyond Jerusalem.Communities were forming across the Roman world.Different cultures, backgrounds, and personalities were coming together under one faith. And with growth… came tension. Clement served as a leader in Rome, one of the most influential cities in the world at that time. But what’s interesting is this: We don’t see Clement seeking influence. We see him responding to need. The Crisis, The Church Family was in Conflict The situation that brings Clement into focus actually took place in Corinth. The same city that had struggled with division during Paul’s time… is struggling again. Leaders had been removed.Disputes had arisen.The unity of the church was weakening. And word of this reaches Rome. Clement responds by writing a letter, what we now call First Clement. But what’s remarkable is not just that he writes. It’s how he writes. A Voice Without Ego Clement doesn’t come in with authority and demand obedience. He doesn’t position himself as superior. Instead, he speaks with a tone that feels almost… pastoral. He reminds them of: The importance of humility The value of order The danger of jealousy and pride The beauty of living in harmony He draws from Scripture.He draws from history.He appeals to their shared faith. He is not trying to win an argument. He is trying to restore a community. The Spiritual Insight When I look at Clement’s life, I see someone who understood something deeply important: The greatest threat to the church is often not what happens outside of it… But what happens within it. Division rarely begins with major issues. It often begins quietly: Hurt feelings Misunderstandings Pride A desire to be right rather than to be unified And Clement steps into that space and gently calls the church back to something better. The Comparison Layer Clement shows us something essential: He protects unity. God did not call Clement to lead movements or face arenas. He called him to hold people together. Walking With This Today Clement’s story invites us into a quiet but important kind of reflection. What role do we play in the communities we’re part of? When tension arises… do we contribute to it?Or do we help calm it? When disagreements surface… do we push harder?Or do we listen more carefully? Unity doesn’t happen automatically. It requires humility. It requires patience. It requires a willingness to step back from ourselves for the sake of something greater. And maybe that’s one of the hardest parts of following Christ. The Strength of Quiet Leadership Clement’s leadership doesn’t come through force. It comes through steadiness. He reminds us that leadership is not always about visibility. Sometimes it’s about: Speaking calmly when others are loud Bringing perspective when others are reactive Calling people back to what matters most And doing it without needing recognition. Closing Reflection Clement doesn’t give us dramatic scenes. He gives us something quieter. He shows us that unity is not maintained by accident. It is cultivated… protected… and sometimes restored. And perhaps today, the invitation is simple: Where might God be calling us to be peacemakers? Where might humility be more important than being right? Where might we help hold something together… rather than allowing it to drift apart? Because the church is not only built by bold leaders… It is sustained by those willing to protect its unity. Something on your Mind? Contact me The post Clement of Rome the Unity That Holds the Church Together appeared first on C.T.C. Ministry.

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It’s time to return to the roots of Christianity and begin living and preaching about how to be a real Christian.

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