Like so many within Advent Christian circles, I have a deeply rooted familial connection to this denomination. My father was an Advent Christian pastor. So was my grandfather, my late uncle and even my second cousin. Growing up in a small denomination had its challenges, like having to explain what an Advent Christian was whenever someone asked where I attended church, or trying to articulate a coherent argument for conditional immortality as a teenager.
But there were also tremendous blessings; blessings I did not fully appreciate at the time. The Advent Christian Church helped cultivate my young faith and formed relationships that have shaped me for decades. It established rhythms of worship, community accountability and mission that discipled me long before I knew what discipleship was.
The past 13 years, however, have taken me outside my denominational home. I began serving in the United Methodist Church as a worship leader and congregational care minister. In 2016, I became a licensed pastor and eventually an associate pastor at Main Street UMC in my hometown of Tazewell, Virginia.
I am profoundly grateful for my time at Main Street. The church sincerely desired to meet the needs of our community, and there were many.
Southwest Virginia has long struggled with deep, systemic brokenness, generational poverty, addiction and economic decline. The only time our small town ever made it into Time magazine was when our crime had reached unprecedented levels due to the OxyContin epidemic. When a community is overwhelmed by substance use disorder, every part of society feels the impact. Yet, amid this landscape, Main Street became a beacon of hope.
A Ministry Among the Most Vulnerable
Our calling was clear: pour ourselves into those most vulnerable, the incarcerated and addicted, the elderly and children caught in the crossfire of instability. James 1:27 says that “religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress…” We took that seriously.
During my years at Main Street, we launched a Christian school, created a jail and reentry program, poured into addiction recovery ministries and began a chaplaincy program. Our church became known for showing up wherever there was need. And God, in his faithfulness, orchestrated, funded and staffed every initiative.
Working within a large denomination like the UMC also opened my eyes to the advantages of episcopal structure and institutional weight. When you were ready to meet people where they were hurting, no one asked what name was on your church sign. If you showed up to serve, you belonged.
A Denomination in Transition
But over my years of service, the UMC’s identity shifted. The local church where I served remained faithful and strong. Yet the denomination began to open its arms to teachings and ideologies that deviated from historic Christian doctrine, particularly regarding human sexuality. Motivated by cultural pressures and political trends, the long-standing theological commitments of the UMC were softened, reinterpreted or outright abandoned.
This grieved me deeply. Many of us who loved our local congregations suddenly felt disoriented, like the ground beneath us had shifted. The convictions that shaped our preaching and discipleship were no longer shared by the broader denomination.
And so, after much wrestling and prayer, I knew it was time to step away.
Renewed Calling, Uncertain Direction
While disappointed, I still felt called to pastor. Over the last two years my family and I began prayerfully discerning where God was leading us next.
In moments of upheaval, the human heart longs for familiar ground. The Advent Christian Church began resurfacing in my mind, quietly, unexpectedly, almost like a whisper from the Spirit. I signed up for the ACGC newsletter, browsed church websites and even caught myself daydreaming about returning to the denomination that helped shape me.
Eventually, I reached out to a longtime friend and my former youth leader at Adria AC Church and that led to a string of conversations that ultimately connected me to Central AC Church in Lenoir.
A New Community with Familiar Needs
When Lenoir became a possibility, I began researching the region. What I found humbled me, many of the same challenges present in Southwest Virginia were also present in Caldwell County and the surrounding mountain communities: drug addiction, incarceration, economic instability, workforce challenges and generational cycles of brokenness.
As my wife and I prayed, our hearts grew increasingly drawn to the idea of serving in Lenoir. Every conversation, every research endeavor and every prayer seemed to point in the same direction. God was preparing a place … and preparing us.
The Church and the Troubles of the World
So, what can a church do in the face of so much brokenness?
What is the church’s response to injustice? To drug addiction? To incarceration? To economic disruption? To communities whose identity has been shaken by the decline of American manufacturing?
Should the church engage these problems?
Scripture says yes.
Jesus called his followers “the light of the world” (Matt. 5:14) and commanded them to “let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (v. 16). The prophet Jeremiah told God’s people to “seek the welfare of the city” where they lived (Jer. 29:7). Paul said we have been entrusted with “the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Cor. 5:18). And James reminds us that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:17).
If the church withdraws from the wounds of the world, who will step in?
A Redeeming God, a Redeemed People
What if every messy chapter of our past, every struggle, every disappointment, every failure, is something God intends to redeem and repurpose for his glory and the good of others? The story of Scripture is, at its heart, a story of redemption. God restores what sin has broken. He heals what we have wounded. He resurrects what we have allowed to die. As Psalm 103 declares, He “redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion” (v. 4).
In recovery ministry I have seen this redemption firsthand. I have watched God breathe life into people who seemed beyond hope. Men and women with decades of addiction, years of separation from their families, and no visible path forward. And yet God transformed them. He made them new. It was resurrection power on display, Ezekiel’s vision of dry bones brought to life (Ezek. 37) happening in real time.
Our God is greater than addiction. Greater than our failures. Greater than our mistakes. Nothing is beyond the reach of his restoration.
Can a Church Help a Struggling Community?
Yes. By God’s grace, the church may be the only institution capable of doing so.
We have been entrusted with the gospel, the power of God unto salvation (Rom. 1:16). We have been filled with the Holy Spirit. God himself dwells within us. Jesus works through us, speaks through us and loves others through us. Nothing is beyond repair.
And so, I am excited to be coming home to the Advent Christian Church. Our movement has unique strengths: a commitment to Scripture, a heritage of evangelism, a heart for holiness and congregations positioned in communities that desperately need the hope of Christ.
We stand at a moment where our churches can be instruments of justice, healing, peace, restoration and resurrection. The fields are white unto harvest (John 4:35). God has prepared a work for us to do (Eph. 2:10). And he has already gone before us.
My prayer is simple:
That we would be a people who proclaim the good news not only with our words but with our lives.
I am honored to join you in that work. And I believe the best is yet to come.
