What About Hypocrisy in the Church?

The Hard Questions of Christianity

Westside Gainesville •
August 29, 2026

4 Minute Read

“Why should I believe Christianity when the church is full of hypocrites?”

Sometimes Christians answer this objection too quickly. We point out that every group contains imperfect people or say the church is a hospital for sinners. Those statements may be true, but they can also sound like an excuse—especially to someone who has experienced genuine harm in a church.

A better response often begins with two words: “You’re right.”

Christians have failed. Churches have sometimes protected reputations instead of people, minimized abuse, pursued power, acted with prejudice, or preached standards their leaders did not follow. Those failures should not be dismissed. They should be grieved, confessed, and confronted.

Struggling is not the same as pretending

Every Christian still struggles with sin. That fact alone does not make someone a hypocrite. Hypocrisy is not simply failing to live perfectly; it is pretending to be something we are not.

The gospel leaves no room for that pretense. Christianity begins with confession: we are sinners who need grace. The church should be a place where people can admit their need for healing, not a stage on which they perform spiritual perfection.

Calling the church a hospital for sinners is helpful only if the hospital tells the truth about the illness and actually seeks healing. Grace never means that harm does not matter or that leaders should escape accountability.

Jesus condemned religious hypocrisy

People sometimes assume criticism of hypocrisy puts them in opposition to Jesus. In reality, Jesus delivered some of his strongest words against religious leaders who appeared righteous outwardly while hiding corruption within.

Jesus did not excuse spiritual performance, exploitation, or the misuse of authority. He exposed it. A person’s anger toward religious hypocrisy may reflect a moral instinct that Christianity itself affirms.

That gives us common ground. Christians do not need to defend what Jesus condemned.

Christianity stands or falls on Jesus

After acknowledging failure honestly, we can gently ask a different question: “Have you found that same hypocrisy in Jesus?”

Christianity does not stand or fall on the flawless behavior of Christians. If it did, it would have fallen long ago. It stands or falls on the person of Jesus—on whether he was who he claimed to be, whether he lived with integrity, whether he died and rose again, and whether he can be trusted.

Christians should increasingly reflect Jesus, and our failures can create real barriers for others. But imperfect followers do not make the Savior imperfect. We should not ask anyone to ignore Christian wrongdoing. We can ask them not to let the worst example of a Christian prevent them from examining Christ.

What not to say

Avoid “There’s always room for one more,” even as a joke. It dismisses the concern and can make the person feel unheard.

Do not immediately defend a church, leader, or institution before understanding what happened. If the person is describing abuse or misconduct, listen carefully. Encourage appropriate support, reporting, and accountability rather than trying to protect the church’s image.

Questions that can keep the conversation open

“Was there a particular experience that shaped the way you see the church?”
“What do you think Christians should do when the church fails?”
“Would you be willing to look at Jesus separately from people who have represented him poorly?”

The most credible response to hypocrisy is not denial. It is humble confession, meaningful accountability, and a life increasingly shaped by Jesus.

Watch this part of the workshop

Gospel Conversation Workshops help everyday people respond to difficult questions with truth, humility, and love. Watch the complete workshop and learn about the next conversation at westsidebaptist.org/gctraining.

Stay connected by subscribing below so you never miss an update.

Subscribe to Gospel Conversation Workshops Updates

Up Next

From this Author: Westside Gainesville

September 17, 2026 • 8 Minute Read

The King Who Almost Looked Like Jesus

Six weeks of Judean kings, and they kept circling the same question. Each good king raised the same hope and then failed to deliver on it. Asa. Jehoshaphat. Josiah. Great starts, complicated endings. The series was always building toward someone specific. Hezekiah is the last king before that. David preached him as the closest anyone had come since David himself to looking like the Messiah. Not because Hezekiah knew that’s what he was doing. He didn’t. The parallels just kept stacking up. Hezekiah’s Sermon Was Full of Jesus and He Had No Idea David spent most of his time cataloging the typology. Hezekiah cleaned the temple, and the candles had gone out and the doors were broken. He had to turn the lights back on and rebuild the doors before anything could happen. Jesus said “I am the light of the world” and drove the money changers out. Hezekiah crushed the bronze serpent Moses made in the wilderness, the one people had been worshipping for centuries. Jesus crushed the actual serpent. Hezekiah sent letters to the scattered remnant of the northern tribes calling them back to Jerusalem. Jesus sent his apostles out with the same invitation. It is, as David admitted, easy to overdo typology. You can force connections that aren’t really there. But the Hezekiah parallels didn’t feel forced. They were just sitting in the text. The problem: Hezekiah’s resume looks great right up until it doesn’t. He got sick, begged God for more time, received fifteen extra years, and almost immediately showed the Babylonian envoys every treasure in the temple and the palace. Isaiah showed up afterward and asked who had been there. Hezekiah’s answer was essentially: some guys from Babylon, they brought me a present. Isaiah did not think this was going well. The Acme Package David compared it to the coyote in Looney Tunes. The Roadrunner shows up with an Acme package and says he heard the coyote was sick. Come on in. And the coyote does. David’s line: if your enemy brings you a present, listen carefully. It might be a ticking time bomb. He also got a little personal about why Hezekiah’s pride moment matters to him specifically. He’s read a letter John MacArthur wrote before his death about finishing well. The temptation at the end of a long ministry isn’t dramatic failure. It’s coasting. Thinking you’ve made it this far, what could really go wrong now. Hezekiah’s extra fifteen years should have been his best. Instead he let the enemy in. Psalm 110: The Most Quoted Old Testament Verse in the New Testament Richie preached Psalm 110 at Southwest, and it’s worth knowing what that psalm is before you encounter it. It’s the most quoted Old Testament text in the entire New Testament. The reason: David wrote it, and in it David bows to someone greater than himself. "The Lord says to my Lord.” A king deferring to a king who hasn’t arrived yet. Richie’s three points moved through what that psalm actually claims. First: submit to Jesus’s lordship. Not as a performance, not as a list of rules, but as someone who genuinely wants to do what the king says. He anchored it in John 2:5, Mary’s instruction to the servants at Cana when she knew Jesus could fix what was broken: “Whatever he tells you to do, do it.” That’s the whole application of Psalm 110:1. Second: bow to Jesus as priest. Psalm 110:4 introduces the order of Melchizedek, the priest-king who blessed Abraham in Genesis 14. The significance: Jesus isn’t just a king from the line of David. He’s also a priest, and a priest’s job is sacrifice. He didn’t just give orders from the throne. He became the sacrifice. Third: receive Jesus as salvation. The inheritance the kings were always guarding and passing down is finally, fully available.Take Your Next Step The theocracy question This is the conversation that probably should have happened earlier in the series. David admitted he’d resisted saying it, partly because the series kept covering national revivals under Josiah and Hezekiah and it was tempting to say: that’s what we want for America. The problem is that Israel was a theocracy. America is not, was not designed to be, and on the current evidence of what theocracies look like in 2026, that’s probably fine. Richie took it further. The Edict of Milan in AD 313 is a cautionary tale. Constantine made Christianity the law of the Roman Empire and evangelism stopped almost immediately, because if the government tells you you’re a Christian, you check the box and go home. The kingdom of God doesn’t operate through national governments. It operates through the church, in the hearts of individuals, spreading sideways through relationships and discipleship. That’s always been the plan. One Thing Nobody Talked About All Series: The Prophets Richie brought this up in the last few minutes and it’s genuinely worth sitting with. The whole series followed the kings. But behind every king in these books, there’s a prophet. First Kings is largely a book about Elijah. Manasseh had Jeremiah in the background calling Judah back. Hezekiah had Isaiah, who shows up specifically in the story of the Babylonian envoys and tells him exactly how badly that’s going to go. The prophets didn’t have their own thrones. They didn’t control policy. They just kept showing up and saying the same thing. You’re doing this wrong. God is still there. Come back. It’s a different model of faithfulness than the kings, and one the series never fully got to explore. What’s Next: Kingdom Works The next series is called Kingdom Works, out of the book of Titus. David called it the greatest double entendre in the series title history of Westside: when the kingdom works. Both meanings intended. He also mentioned there are two places in Titus where the gospel gets condensed into something remarkably clear, and one of them might be his favorite three-verse summary of the gospel anywhere in Scripture. He’s saving it for Sunday. Also in this episode Brandon shoutout: he edits David’s sermons for TV and therefore listens to them multiple times. David called it the hardest job. Richie stayed on the platform this week. No repeat of the prodigal son incident. Progress. Manasseh was born in the last 15 years of Hezekiah’s life. The extra years God gave Hezekiah when he begged for more time were the years Manasseh was watching. He saw the declining, prideful version of his father, not the reforming one. Who Was Hezekiah and Why Does He Matter? Hezekiah was king of Judah from roughly 715 to 686 BC, considered one of the two greatest kings of Judah alongside Josiah. He reopened and cleansed the temple after his father Ahaz had shut it down, reinstated Passover for the first time in a generation, destroyed the bronze serpent that Israel had been worshipping for centuries, and sent envoys throughout the northern kingdom inviting the scattered remnant back to Jerusalem. His reign overlapped with Isaiah, who served as both adviser and prophet. Biblical typology reads several of Hezekiah’s actions as foreshadowing what Jesus would do: cleansing the temple, restoring light, sending messengers to the scattered. The critical difference is that Hezekiah was doing these things by human initiative, often imperfectly, while Jesus is the fulfillment they were unconsciously pointing toward. Frequently asked questions Why Is Psalm 110 the Most Quoted Old Testament Verse in the New Testament? Psalm 110 is quoted or referenced more than any other Old Testament text in the New Testament, appearing in Matthew, Mark, Luke, Acts, 1 Corinthians, Ephesians, Hebrews, and elsewhere. The reason is its unusual structure: it was written by David, and in it David refers to someone greater than himself as “my Lord.” For the New Testament writers, this was one of the clearest Old Testament passages pointing to the Messiah as someone superior even to David. The psalm also contains the only direct reference in the Psalms to the order of Melchizedek, connecting the Messiah to both the kingly line of David and the priestly office, an important point for the argument of Hebrews that Jesus fulfills both roles simultaneously. What Is the Order of Melchizedek? Melchizedek appears briefly in Genesis 14 as the king of Salem and priest of God Most High who blesses Abraham after a military victory. Abraham pays him a tithe. The significance is what the text doesn’t say: Melchizedek has no recorded genealogy, no priestly lineage from Levi (who wasn’t born yet), and his priesthood appears complete in itself. Psalm 110:4 declares that the coming king will be “a priest forever after the order of Melchizedek,” meaning a priest whose office doesn’t depend on lineage, doesn’t expire, and transcends the Levitical system. The New Testament letter to the Hebrews spends several chapters making the case that Jesus fulfills this exactly: a priest who is also a king, whose sacrifice is once for all, and whose priestly intercession never ends. Scripture Referenced: 2 Kings 18-20 • Psalm 110 • Psalm 72 • Psalm 2 • Genesis 3:15 • Genesis 14 (Melchizedek) • John 2:5 • Romans 10:9 • Hebrews 7 • Isaiah 39

Westside Gainesville

September 3, 2026 • 9 Minute Read

Your Child Isn't Too Far Gone

David spent the week on Kauai as a guest of some friends — hikes to sunrise cliffs, sea turtles on the beach, an overpriced luau that opened with the Hawaiian Doxology sung in harmony. The congregation didn’t know that part. Also: the couple at the luau table turned out to be connected to David’s former church in Marietta, Georgia. Somewhere around 10,000 miles from Gainesville. The world continues to be remarkably small. He came back to preach on one of the most uncomfortable stories in the whole series — Manasseh. Fifty-five years of idolatry. Sorcery. His own children sacrificed. Idols placed in the temple itself. And then God forgave him. This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday is David and Richie unpacking why that’s in the Bible, what it means, and the one thing about Manasseh that David didn’t have time to say on Sunday Why Does Chronicles Tell the Story Differently Than Kings? David opened his sermon by placing Manasseh inside the two-book tension that runs through the whole series. First and Second Kings were written during the Babylonian exile — the people have been removed from Jerusalem and are asking: how did we get here? The book answers that question. The story of Manasseh in Kings is pure indictment — this is what you did, this is why you’re in chains. First and Second Chronicles were written later, after a smaller group returned from exile and rebuilt the temple and the walls. Their question is different: do we have a future with God? Can a people who failed this badly actually come back? Chronicles tells the same stories as Kings, but the ones it expands are the ones that carry hope. Manasseh is the prime example. Kings tells you how bad he was. Chronicles adds what happened next. Richie’s Sermon: Run, Repent, Rest Richie’s three-point framework at Southwest read Manasseh’s story through the lens of the prodigal son. We run. Manasseh runs for 55 years — every step a little further from the God he knows about. We run the same way, just in smaller increments and with better excuses. The prodigal son runs too, and eventually runs out of money and friends simultaneously. We repent — which Richie located in the moment Manasseh has literally nothing left. Chains. Babylon. Away from the temple, which for an Israelite meant away from any sense of proximity to God. And it’s in that stripped-down place that Manasseh reaches out. Luke 15:17 captures the same moment for the prodigal son: “when he came to himself.” That’s repentance. Not a calculation. A coming home. We rest — which Richie anchored in Manasseh being restored to Jerusalem, his kingdom, knowing the Lord. The same word Chronicles uses for his homecoming. He didn’t just get his throne back. He came home. And Richie closed on 1 Peter 1 — an inheritance kept in heaven, guaranteed, even while the present trials are real. The Master Politician Who Hedged His Bets One of the things the sermon didn’t have time for: why did Manasseh compromise so completely? David and Richie’s read — Manasseh was a master politician. He survived 55 years on the throne of a small kingdom surrounded by empires. He didn’t survive that by accident. He survived it by appeasing everyone — building altars to every neighboring god, making political alliances through false worship, using sorcery and divination the same way a modern politician uses a pollster. He wanted to control his future, and he used every tool available to him. The problem: none of those tools worked. The Assyrian general showed up anyway. The hook through the nose and chains to Babylon were God’s version of grabbing someone by the ear when they’ve stopped listening. And it worked. “God always speaks before He strikes. It’s not until we’ve resisted His word and the conviction of the Holy Spirit that He often speaks to us through distress.” — Pastor David ChaunceyTake Your Next Step What WE Didn’t Cover: The Unpardonable Sin This is the genuinely rare “what we didn’t say on Sunday” moment in this episode. Manasseh — a man who sacrificed his own children, led an entire nation into idolatry, and shed so much innocent blood that Chronicles specifically blames Judah’s eventual exile on him even after his repentance — the obvious question surfaces: how far is too far? Is there a line? Jesus says there is one unpardonable sin. It’s in Matthew 12, when the Pharisees watch Jesus cast out a demon and say he’s operating by Beelzebul — attributing the work of the Holy Spirit to Satan. That’s the line. It’s not a specific moral sin. It’s the final, hardened refusal to acknowledge that the Holy Spirit is working at all. David and Richie’s practical conclusion: if you’re worried about whether you’ve committed the unpardonable sin, that worry itself is evidence you haven’t. The Holy Spirit is still working on you. How Grace Actually Works With Someone Like Manasseh David made the theological point carefully: God didn’t forgive Manasseh by looking past what he did. He didn’t say “that sure was a good prayer, Manasseh, so I’ll overlook the children you sacrificed.” He took Manasseh’s sin and placed it on Jesus. Manasseh is forgiven for the same reason David Chauncey is. For the same reason anyone who turns is. The cross is what makes that possible — and it was already making it possible centuries before Manasseh prayed, through the forward-looking covenant God had made with David’s line. That’s what makes the Manasseh story so unsettling in the best possible way. He’s an explosion of grace in the middle of the Old Testament. And that’s precisely the point. Also in this episode David’s Hawaii trip: Kauai, a luau that opened with the Doxology in Hawaiian harmony, sea turtles, a sunrise hike, and a couple from Marietta Georgia 10,000 miles from home Manasseh as master politician — why 55 years on the throne with enemies on every side actually makes theological sense The prodigal son going off the platform — David illustrated the journey from the father’s house, realized mid-sermon this was a mistake, and survived The Gators sarcasm dying at 11am: David said “Why are y’all in such a good mood? I was in prayer all day Saturday” — the congregation thought he meant it and nobody laughed Preview: The final Kingdom Family sermon next week — Hezekiah, then King Jesus Next series announced: Titus — how to pass faith along in churches and families Why Does Matthew’s Genealogy Include Sinners and Failures? Matthew’s genealogy in chapter 1 is structured as three groups of 14 generations: Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, and the exile to Jesus. Within this structure, Matthew deliberately includes kings whose reigns were marked by failure, compromise, and outright wickedness. The theological reason is intentional: Matthew is not writing a story about human heroes. He is establishing that Jesus is the rightful King of Kings who descends from the line of David — and the integrity of that genealogy requires including every generation, not just the spiritually successful ones. The Bible does not hide the failures of its figures because the central argument of Scripture is not human faithfulness but divine grace. Frequently asked questions Your Child Isn’t Too Far Gone The short biblical answer is that forgiveness isn’t proportional to the severity of the sin — it’s made possible by the sacrifice of Christ, which is sufficient for any sin that is genuinely repented of. Manasseh’s story in 2 Chronicles 33 demonstrates this directly: one of the most wicked kings in Judah’s history, guilty of idolatry, sorcery, and child sacrifice, repented in Babylon and was restored by God. The text doesn’t explain it away. It lets it be shocking. The point isn’t that Manasseh’s sin was overlooked — it was placed on Jesus. The same theological mechanism that forgives ordinary sins forgives extraordinary ones. That’s not a loophole. That’s the cross. What Is the Unpardonable Sin? The unpardonable sin — also called blasphemy of the Holy Spirit — is described by Jesus in Matthew 12:31–32. The Pharisees had watched Jesus cast out a demon and attributed the miracle to Beelzebul rather than God. Jesus calls this blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. Most theologians understand this not as a single specific action that can be accidentally committed, but as the final, persistent hardening of one’s heart against the Holy Spirit’s testimony about Jesus — the settled refusal to acknowledge the Spirit’s work at all. Because this sin is defined by its resistance to the Holy Spirit’s conviction, genuine concern about whether one has committed it is itself evidence that they haven’t. What Is the Difference Between Kings and Chronicles on Manasseh? First and Second Kings were written during the Babylonian exile, answering the question: how did we get here? Its account of Manasseh (2 Kings 21) focuses on the depth of his sin and explains it as the decisive reason for Judah’s exile. First and Second Chronicles were compiled after the exile, when the people had returned and were asking: do we have a future with God? Chronicles covers the same historical period but expands moments that carry hope. The Manasseh account in 2 Chronicles 33 includes a section that Kings omits entirely: his captivity in Babylon, his prayer, God’s response, and his subsequent reforms in Jerusalem. The different emphasis isn’t a contradiction — it’s each book answering its own audience’s question. Scripture Referenced: 2 Chronicles 33 • 2 Kings 21 • Luke 15:11–32 • 1 Peter 1:3–5 • Romans 7:24–25 • Matthew 12:31–32 • 2 Chronicles 7:14 • Psalm 72

Westside Gainesville

September 3, 2026 • 6 Minute Read

Why God's Discipline Is Actually Good News

Imagine you ordered a pizza. Seven perfect slices. One slice has a cockroach baked into it. Would you call it a good pie? Nobody would. And that’s the question Pastor Jonathan Phoenix brought to the Newberry Road campus last Sunday: how can we offer seven-eighths of our lives to God and call that faithful? This week’s episode of What We Didn’t Say on Sunday features Richie Baldwin and Jonathan — Westside’s International Ministry pastor, on staff since 2020 — talking through what Jonathan preached on Sunday, why Matthew’s genealogy includes some of the messiest kings in Judah’s history, and how 12% of Gainesville is foreign-born and doesn’t know it yet has a church home waiting. God Is Predictably Gracious The phrase Jonathan kept returning to on Sunday — and throughout the episode — is one David has been building toward all series: God is predictably gracious. Not randomly gracious. Not occasionally gracious. Predictably. The discipline Asa experienced when he trusted physicians over God in his final years wasn’t God abandoning him. It was God doing what Hebrews says he always does with his children: disciplining those he loves. And the invitation on the other side of that discipline is always the same. It’s never too late to come back. “We’re predictably messy. But God is predictably gracious and forgiving.” — Pastor Jonathan Fenix The Pizza Illustration Jonathan was looking for an illustration for going all in with God — and landed on pizza. Seven perfect slices, one slice with a cockroach baked in. Nobody eats around the bad slice and calls the pizza good. The whole thing goes in the trash. He was using it to press on the question of partial obedience: we wouldn’t accept one compromised slice of pizza, so why do we think God would accept one compromised eighth of a life? It made himself hungry, by his own admission, especially at the 11 o’clock service. Richie’s wife is an entomologist — she eats bugs, a practice technically called entomophagy — and she would apparently be able to recommend which cockroach varieties are edible if it came to that. The podcast went somewhere unexpected. Why Are Failed Kings in Jesus’s Family Tree? The Matthew genealogy thread is the most substantive theological content in the episode. Matthew structures his genealogy in three sets of 14 generations — Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, exile to Jesus — and in doing so he skips several kings. What he doesn’t skip is Asa, Jehoshaphat, and Joram. Three generations of the four-chair pattern in sequence: a king who ended poorly, a king who taught well and compromised relationally, and a king who collapsed entirely. The point Richie and Jonathan kept coming back to: Matthew isn’t hiding anything. The Bible doesn’t airbrush its heroes. The genealogy of the King of Kings includes messy, compromised, failing people because that’s the family God chose to work through. The only hero in the story from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22 is God himself. Every human in the line is evidence that God’s grace operates in spite of people, not because of them. They traced the thread further back to Genesis 3:15 — the protoevangelium, the first hint of the gospel — where God promises that the seed of the woman will crush the head of the serpent. That thread runs through Abraham’s covenant, through David’s covenant, through every king in the genealogy whether good or bad, straight through to Matthew’s opening chapter. 66 books, 1,500 years, multiple human authors. One coherent story, because there’s really only one Author.Take Your Next Step The Nations Are Already in Gainesville Jonathan arrived in Gainesville from the Philippines and has been doing international ministry at Westside since 2020. He carries an unusual empathy for international students because he was one. Seven percent of the University of Florida’s enrollment are international students. Twelve percent of Gainesville’s residents are foreign-born. Many of them come for a degree or a work contract, meet Jesus, get discipled, and go home as believers. They came for an education. They leave ready for the mission field. The word for that is “glocal” — local initiatives with global impact. Someone discipled in Gainesville, Florida goes home to Vietnam or South Korea or Japan and takes the gospel with them. This week, new friends from Vietnam, South Korea, and Japan. Usually India and China. This fall, the nations look a little different. Also in this episode Jonathan’s earpiece wouldn’t fit his right ear during the 9:30 service — he had to be handed a mic mid-sermon and suspects the earpiece was molded after Pastor David’s right ear specifically Richie’s blooper: the announcement video where Richie shoots basketball shots to promote three upcoming events. Every shot went in. None of them were Richie’s. Shoutout to Jack Harrington, youth student and three-point specialist, who made all of them during the film shoot Jonathan not being picked for his junior high class basketball team — 15 boys, needed 12, Jonathan was one of three left out. He’s been carrying this for 38 years. The Philippines beat Iran AND Jordan in Asia basketball qualifiers. Richie notes this does not include Michael Jordan. Jonathan concurs. Why Does Matthew’s Genealogy Include Sinners and Failures? Matthew’s genealogy in chapter 1 is structured as three groups of 14 generations: Abraham to David, David to the Babylonian exile, and the exile to Jesus. Within this structure, Matthew deliberately includes kings whose reigns were marked by failure, compromise, and outright wickedness. The theological reason is intentional: Matthew is not writing a story about human heroes. He is establishing that Jesus is the rightful King of Kings who descends from the line of David — and the integrity of that genealogy requires including every generation, not just the spiritually successful ones. The Bible does not hide the failures of its figures because the central argument of Scripture is not human faithfulness but divine grace. Frequently asked questions What Is Genesis 3:15 and Why Does It Matter? Genesis 3:15 is often called the protoevangelium — the first gospel. After the fall, God addresses the serpent and says: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” This is the first hint in Scripture that a specific descendant of Eve will one day defeat the serpent — which the New Testament identifies as Jesus. The promise then narrows progressively: through Abraham’s covenant, through the tribe of Judah, through the Davidic covenant, until Matthew chapter 1 names the specific person that thread was always pointing toward. Every genealogy, every king, every generation in between is part of that thread. Scripture Referenced: Matthew 1 • 2 Chronicles 16 • Genesis 3:15 • Hebrews 12:6 • John 1:1

Westside Gainesville

August 29, 2026 • 4 Minute Read

Why Does Good Allow Evil and Suffering?

If God is good and powerful, why does he allow evil and suffering? For many people, this is not merely an intellectual puzzle. It may be connected to a diagnosis, a betrayal, the death of someone they loved, or years of prayers that seemed to go unanswered. Before trying to explain suffering, we should listen carefully enough to understand the person who is asking. Christianity does not give us a short answer that makes every painful experience feel simple. It does, however, give us a larger story: God created a good world, humanity turned away from him, sin brought brokenness into the world, and God entered that brokenness to rescue and redeem us. Love requires real freedom God did not create human beings as machines programmed to obey him. He created us with the capacity to love, and meaningful love requires the freedom to choose. That freedom also makes rejection possible. Humanity chose independence from God, and the result is a world marked by sin, injustice, loss, and death. Much of the suffering we see grows directly from human choices. Other suffering comes from living in a creation that no longer operates as it was originally intended. This does not mean every person suffers because of a particular sin they committed. Jesus rejected that simplistic assumption. It means all of us live in a world affected by humanity’s separation from God. God can redeem what he does not delight in The Christian response is not that suffering is secretly good. Evil is evil. Grief is real. Death is an enemy. Yet God is able to bring endurance, character, compassion, and hope out of circumstances he does not call good. Redemption does not erase the wound or require us to pretend it never hurt. It means pain does not get the final word. Joseph expressed this truth after enduring betrayal and injustice: what others intended for evil, God used for good. The cross is its fullest expression. Humanity’s greatest act of injustice became the means through which God offered forgiveness and life to the world. Jesus entered our suffering Christianity does not present a distant God watching human pain from a safe place. In Jesus, God stepped into our world. Jesus experienced rejection, grief, injustice, physical agony, and death. At the tomb of his friend Lazarus, Jesus wept even though he knew resurrection was coming. That moment gives Christians permission to grieve. Faith is not pretending loss does not matter. We can mourn honestly while trusting that suffering and death will not last forever. The Christian hope is not simply that God will help us understand every painful event. It is that God has acted in Jesus, remains present with us now, and will one day make all things new. What not to say Avoid rushing to tell someone that “everything happens for a reason.” Even when intended as encouragement, that phrase can sound as though their suffering is small or easily explained. Do not assume the person needs a philosophical answer before they need compassion. Sometimes the most faithful response is to sit with them, acknowledge that what happened was wrong, and remind them they are not alone. Questions that can keep the conversation open “When you ask that question, is there a particular experience you have in mind?” “What kind of answer do you think would make sense of suffering?” “Have you ever considered what Christianity says God has done about suffering?” You do not have to solve the entire problem of evil in one conversation. Listen well. Tell the truth with humility. Help the person consider the God who entered our pain and promises that pain will not have the last word.Watch this part of the workshop Gospel Conversation Workshops help everyday people respond to difficult questions with truth, humility, and love. Watch the complete workshop and learn about the next conversation at westsidebaptist.org/gctraining.

Westside Gainesville

August 29, 2026 • 4 Minute Read

Why Do Christians Believe Jesus Is the Only Way?

Why do Christians say Jesus is the only way to God? Don’t all religions lead to the same place? The Christian claim can sound narrow, especially in a culture that values individual choice. A thoughtful response should not begin with defensiveness. It should begin by clarifying what Christianity actually claims. Christianity does not teach that Christians are better, wiser, or more deserving than everyone else. It teaches the opposite: none of us can make ourselves right with God. We do not need one more set of instructions for climbing our way to him. We need to be rescued—and Christians believe God came to rescue us in Jesus. We cannot earn our way to God Many people imagine faith as a staircase. Different religions may use different steps, but sincere people are all climbing toward the same God. The gospel begins with a different diagnosis. The Bible describes humanity as spiritually dead in sin. A dead person cannot climb stairs, no matter how clear the directions are. If our deepest problem is spiritual death, we do not merely need a teacher standing at the top and telling us how to climb. We need someone to come down and give us life. That is the Christian claim about Jesus. God did not wait for us to reach him. He came to us. Grace is different from getting what we deserve Most systems of thought tell us, in one form or another, that our outcome depends on our performance. Do enough good, avoid enough evil, learn enough, improve enough, and perhaps we will become worthy. The gospel says salvation is a gift of grace. Christians are not accepted because they have accumulated more spiritual merit. They are accepted because of what Jesus has done through his life, death, and resurrection. Grace is not God lowering his standards or ignoring evil. At the cross, Jesus took sin seriously enough to bear its consequence and loved sinners deeply enough to offer forgiveness. What Jesus did—not what we achieve—determines what we receive. Is that claim arrogant? It would be arrogant for Christians to invent an exclusive path and claim superiority for themselves. But Christians did not create Jesus’ claim. Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Imagine a doctor who knows that one treatment can save a dying patient. Telling the patient the truth is not unloving simply because the treatment is specific. Withholding the treatment to avoid sounding narrow would not be kindness. Christians speak about Jesus because they believe he is not merely one helpful spiritual option. He is the one who has done what none of us could do for ourselves. What not to say Avoid treating the conversation like a contest between “our religion” and “theirs.” The gospel does not give Christians permission to mock another person’s beliefs or assume they have never thought seriously about faith. Do not confuse confidence with harshness. Christians can clearly present Jesus’ claims while listening carefully, asking questions, and treating the other person with dignity. Questions that can keep the conversation open “When you say all religions lead to God, what do you believe they have in common?” “Do you think acceptance by God is something we earn or something we receive?” “Have you ever considered what Jesus claimed about himself?” The goal is not to win an argument about comparative religion. It is to help someone encounter the person of Jesus and consider whether his life, claims, death, and resurrection are trustworthy.Watch this part of the workshop Gospel Conversation Workshops help everyday people respond to difficult questions with truth, humility, and love. Watch the complete workshop and learn about the next conversation at westsidebaptist.org/gctraining.