Daniel Morgan

Every major ministry conference in America is designed around a church model that fewer than 3% of American churches actually represent. The speakers have green rooms. The books on the back table are written by people who speak at the conference. The breakout sessions assume a staff of more than eight. The worship budget they mention in passing is larger than the entire annual budget of the church sitting in the third row taking notes. I’ve been to those conferences. I’ve sat in those rooms. And I’ve watched the pastor next to me quietly do the math and realize: nothing in this building applies to him. He leads 80 people. He preaches and also fixes the HVAC. His “media team” is his daughter on an iPhone 12. God told Samuel: “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” The ministry industry looks at the outward appearance. Big stages. Big numbers. Big budgets. I wonder what it would look like if we built a culture that looked at the heart — of a church, of a pastor, of a neighborhood. That question has been bugging me. Still working on the answer.

John Piper on AI: “Let’s use ChatGPT and other sources that are coming along for information, even for inspiration, just like you use commentaries and articles and books and songs and poetry. But don’t use it for composition unless you’re going to give credit for it.”

JESUS FIRST. COUNTRY SECOND. I love America. Yes, she has a lot of problems that need to be fixed. But she was founded on Biblical principles, with a foundation rooted in Judeo-Christian truth like no other nation in history. The system of government devised by our Founding Fathers was brilliant—balanced and shaped by a Biblical worldview. Just take a walk around Washington, D.C., and read what’s carved into the marble. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. God was all over the birth of this nation. And I love that. I love the books and movies that tell that story. Patriotism runs in my blood. When the Star-Spangled Banner plays, I stand. When tragedy strikes our nation, I kneel. This patriotism is part of my heritage. I come from a military family. My biological father was a Sergeant Major and the very last POW released from the Korean War. Three of my five uncles served in the military. My Uncle Dave has 40 medals and commendations, five bullet wounds, and a five-inch bayonet scar across his stomach—each one a testimony to his sacrifice. I’ve always said that if I weren’t in ministry, I’d be in the military. I love the United States of America. I am an unapologetic patriot. But far above my love for 🇺🇸 is my love for King Jesus and His Church. As Paul wrote to the believers in Philippi: “But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ…” (Philippians 3:20) When those two loyalties come into conflict, King Jesus wins—hands down, every time. No question. So in submission to my ultimate King, I’m working to see this country—and every country—transformed. Not first through policies and politics, but through prayer and proclamation. I’m praying for the United States and our leaders, just as God commands in 1 Timothy 2:1–4. And I’m proclaiming the truth of God’s Word and the Gospel. Because it is the Gospel that transforms hearts. It is God’s Word that renews minds. And it is God’s people—with renewed minds—who ultimately shape policies and politics. The only hope for America is rooted in Jesus. Only He can save this nation—and every nation—on every level. Jesus first. Country second. So, Christian—love your country. Pay your taxes. Vote. Get involved. Be a good citizen. But never forget: your ultimate allegiance is to heaven, not earth… to the united Church, not the United States… to your King, not your president.

I often have students ask me how to determine the difference between sinfully aggressive rhetoric and speaking with conviction. And the answer isn’t easy, because the answer often lies in instances of wisdom. For example, some pastors are more and less publicly bold about certain issues not because of fear or sinful weakness (although this happens), but sometimes they’re more careful how they speak because they know their sheep’s needs, wounds, weaknesses, etc. Good shepherds know when you use the rod and when to use the staff. This is not something we can merely factually prescribe (although there are certain general principles), but rather something partially honed through maturity and contextual wisdom. There are also different venues for communication. You might denounce a particular sin with vigor and even bite in an apologetic or debate-centered venue. But you might speak with the same conviction and yet a different tone or posture to a grieving or struggling church congregation. The problem today is that many of the loudest and most aggressive voices on social media are not in positions of authority or accountability. The result is (perhaps especially) young men who watch them and then develop a false sense of zeal without wisdom (yet) built through maturity, experience, and relational accountability. They either (1) grow out of it with the help of age and accountability, (2) change after learning the hard way, or (3) in their pride double down and sear their own conscience. I regularly pray that our students will experience the first option.