Jan. 25, 2026 - Serving with Purpose

There's something powerful about the beginning of a new year. We make resolutions, set goals, and promise ourselves that this time will be different. Yet statistics tell us that by mid-January, most of those commitments have already faded. The desire for change is real, but sustaining it proves remarkably difficult.

This same pattern often shows up in our faith lives. We know we should be more engaged, more active, more present in our spiritual communities. We understand intellectually that faith isn't meant to be a spectator sport. Yet the gap between knowing and doing remains stubbornly wide.

Consider how many messages compete for our attention each day. News cycles, social media feeds, advertisements, and countless voices all pulling us in different directions. Each has an agenda, a perspective to promote, a product to sell. We're constantly being shaped by these influences, often without even realizing it.

This is precisely why gathering for worship matters so profoundly. It's not about religious obligation or checking a box. It's about recalibration. In the midst of all that noise, we need a weekly rhythm that recenters us, that reminds us whose voice actually matters most. We need space to push aside the clamor and ask: What is God's message for us? How should we align our hearts and minds?

Worship is where we're formed and shaped. But here's the crucial next step: what happens after we leave that sacred space?

The book of James offers a challenging reminder: being a hearer of the word without being a doer is incomplete faith. Even demons believe in God's existence, but belief alone doesn't transform lives or change the world. We're called to take what we learn, what we know, what is proclaimed about the gospel of Jesus Christ, and apply it to our lives through both word and deed.

We are meant to be the hands and feet of Christ throughout the week. Everything that worship cultivates in us should flow outward into purposeful mission and service.

History offers us powerful examples of what this looks like in practice. Consider the evolution of women's organizations in the church. Through various name changes over the decades—from the Wesleyan Service Guild to the Ladies' Aid Society to the Women's Foreign Mission Society to United Methodist Women and now United Women in Faith—one thing remained constant: a singular purpose to be the muscle of serving with purpose.

These women saw needs that others overlooked. They heard cries that others ignored. And when church leadership wasn't moving fast enough to address societal problems, they organized themselves and took action.

The impact was staggering. They started hospitals, schools, orphanages, and universities. They pioneered Sunday schools. They created rehabilitation centers. They were instrumental in the prohibition movement—not out of moral superiority, but because they witnessed firsthand the devastation of alcoholism on families. They saw mothers and children starving because fathers drank away their paychecks. They saw the pain, identified the need, and became agents of change.

One church's women's group in downtown Phoenix established what became Good Samaritan Hospital, now Banner University Hospital. Countless lives have been touched, healed, and saved because a group of women decided to be the hands and feet of Christ in their community.

They didn't do this for recognition or awards. They did it for the glory of God.

The apostle Paul, writing to the church in Colossae, addressed this very principle. In a passage discussing practical Christian living, he spoke to slaves about their work. In that ancient context, slaves had no identity—they were branded property, treated as less than human. Yet Paul told them to work not for human masters or out of mere necessity, but as if working for the glory of God.

This wasn't just advice for slaves. Paul was establishing a principle for all believers. When we accept Christ, we become "slaves of Christ"—Paul himself frequently used this identity. Through baptism, our old identity dies and we rise to new life where we live for Christ and His purposes alone.

This means shedding our own will and embracing God's will. It means working in everything we do solely for God's glory and honor. We all share this calling.

Slavery didn't end in ancient Rome. Human trafficking remains a horrific reality today. Young girls are trapped in sex slavery. Children are exploited in various forms of forced labor. Even in our own communities, vulnerable people are treated as commodities rather than image-bearers of God.

Organizations continue the legacy of those pioneering women, advocating against injustice and providing rehabilitation centers for survivors. They work to change societal attitudes and create pathways for healing and restoration. They embody what it means to see suffering and respond with action.

This is the muscle of faith in motion.

The question facing each of us is simple but profound: Will you serve? Will you invest more of your time to be that muscle for Christ?

We're not all called to start hospitals or lead national movements. But we are all called to take our faith beyond the walls of worship into the messiness of real life. We're called to see needs in our communities and respond. We're called to be doers of the word, not just hearers.

What would it look like for you to live as a "slave of Christ" this week? What needs has God placed before your eyes? What gifts, resources, or time could you offer for His glory?

The world doesn't need more people who merely believe. It needs people who will move, who will serve, who will be the hands and feet of Christ in tangible, transformative ways.

The legacy of faith isn't built on good intentions or comfortable pew-sitting. It's built by ordinary people who saw extraordinary needs and decided to do something about it—all for the glory of God.

What will your part of that legacy be?