by John Ellis
Every December, by God’s grace, my church family goes caroling in the neighborhood in which the church’s building is located (which is also my neighborhood). A week or so before the event, we mail out postcards inviting the neighborhood to join us as we walk around singing Christmas carols from house to house. The evening concludes with hot chocolate and cookies in the fellowship hall. The neighborhood loves it.
Last year, back at the church building enjoying hot chocolate and cookies, I struck up a conversation with one of the families from the neighborhood who had joined us. The father asked me if we’re a Southern Baptist church. We are. I told him so, and quickly changed the subject. You see, as I confessed to my pastor later, I was embarrassed to admit that our church is affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention. I was wrong to feel that way, but I’ll get to that in a bit.