In this month’s blog, Bishop David Bard discusses how the work of convincing the world of the reality of the gospel is as challenging now as ever and offers some thoughts on how we share it…
I write this after recently returning from eight days in Copenhagen, Denmark, for denominational meetings. I chair the Committee on Faith and Order, which is charged with giving “leadership to The United Methodist Church in reflecting upon, discerning and living out matters of faith, doctrinal teaching, order, and discipline in the midst of mission and ministry in the church and world.” We are to be “a visible expression of the commitment of The United Methodist Church to carry on informed theological reflection for the present time in dynamic continuity with the historic Christian faith, our common heritage as Christians grounded in the apostolic witness, and our distinctive Wesleyan heritage” (Book of Discipline, ¶444).
As The United Methodist Church moves into regionalization, the Committee on Faith and Order is also working with the Standing Committee on Regional Conference Matters Outside the USA to determine what should constitute a global Book of Discipline that applies equally across all regions of the church. The two back-to-back meetings reflect the length of the trip, and the location acknowledges the international composition of these committees.
I don’t want to dismiss the genuine excitement of being in a place like Copenhagen. It seems like a beautiful city with a rich history. If envy is beginning to creep in as you read this, though, the meeting schedule meant I saw the city outside the hotel on one day. The temperature varied little from day to night, 28 to 33 degrees. The sun never shone through the clouds. I returned home with a tough case of the flu.
On the Sunday I was in Copenhagen, many of us attended a United Methodist church. The service was beautiful, and Bishop Knut Refsdal’s sermon was thought-provoking and inspiring. That afternoon, I toured the National Museum of Denmark and learned a great deal about a country I knew little about. One of the things that struck me was the intertwining of church and crown, church and state, in Danish history. For a long period in their history, to be a voting citizen in Denmark required being a confirmed member of the state church. Confirmation, communion, and citizenship were all wrapped together.
That kind of state sponsorship of a particular religion or church is foreign to our experience in the United States, though there are veins of Christian nationalism that seem to argue, if not for a state church, then at least for privileging Christians in civic participation. While we have no long history of a state church in the United States, we certainly have a long history of broad social and cultural support for and reinforcement of participation in religious communities. Sunday closing laws were seen as support for Christian churches. Many states offered release time, time away during the regular school day, for students to attend classes in religious instruction. I still have the Gideons New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs presented to me through release time. For many years, there was social pressure to be part of a religious community to be considered a solid member of the broader community.
Just as the state church in Denmark no longer functions as it once did, so, too, have most of the broad social and cultural supports for religious participation eroded in the United States. People no longer assume that most of their coworkers belong to a religious community. One need not be part of a faith community to be considered a good member of the broader community.
In light of that, the church’s task has become more challenging. It is one thing to have broad social forces that encourage religious participation. That makes inviting people to participate in our church a bit easier, though truth be told, we relied too long on such social pressures to do our work for us.
Reflecting on all this, I cannot help but think of another paragraph in the Book of Discipline, ¶130: “The people of God, who are the church made visible in the world, must convince the world of the reality of the gospel or leave it unconvinced. There can be no evasion or delegation of this responsibility; the church is either faithful as a witnessing and serving community, or it loses its vitality and its impact on an unbelieving world.” These words echo Jesus’ call to go and make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28:19) and the encouragement in the First Epistle of Peter to always be ready to give an account for the hope that is within us (1 Peter 3:15).
We must convince the world of the reality of the gospel, or leave it unconvinced. Of course, the Spirit of God works in us, through us, with us, and sometimes outside of us. Nevertheless, we have a task, and it is no longer supported by the social and cultural contexts it once was. Further, people are keenly aware of the multiple ways the church has not lived up to its own proclamations of love, justice, mercy, compassion, and beloved community. Still, we must convince the world of the reality of the gospel, or leave it unconvinced.
In this unique circumstance, I offer these thoughts on how we share the gospel. Perhaps we begin with convicted humility. We have good news to share. We have thoughts about God’s love and about human life lived in light of God’s love in Jesus Christ. Our convictions run deep, and we need to engage with others with deep humility. We listen. We care about the concrete circumstances of people’s lives, and our first concern is to see lives made better. We trust that in any encounter, we have things to learn. We admit that some of our understanding of God’s love may need to be enhanced and enriched.
Convicted humility is important. So, too, is attending to the quality of our lives and of our life together in the community called the church. We need not be perfect to share the good news of God’s love, but if our own lives are often filled with hostility, if we are mean-spirited, unthinking, insensitive, or parsimonious in spirit, people will not really care what we have to say. Our own continuing growth in love is critical to our effective witness. So, too, is the growth of our life together in the church. If our church communities are mired in conflicts over relatively minor matters, if we manage our differences poorly, or if we offer little space in our churches for genuine questions and conversations, we are likely to leave the world unconvinced about the power of the good news of God’s love to transform human lives and communities.
Finally, I think people want to see people of faith speak about and work for the common good. We will wade into some uncomfortable territory here, as the common good concerns our shared life in political communities. We need to continually raise questions about how we promote the flourishing of all, how we create a more beloved community, and how we care for the planet on which we all depend. We will challenge injustice and call out dehumanization. We need to offer our thoughts with convicted humility. We need to engage in actions for the common good with a generous spirit and kind, compassionate hearts.
The work to convince the world of the reality of the gospel is as challenging now as ever. And it remains our work. Lent is a good time to reclaim such work. It is a good time to reflect on where we have not done that work well and be willing to admit such failures. Lent is a time to ask God’s Spirit once again to enliven our lives and ministries. Perhaps we can join in this prayer: “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful people and kindle in them the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth.”
Last Updated on March 4, 2026