In June of 2017, I began to formally answer the call to Ordained Ministry. I explored and devoted myself to this calling. When I was a young boy, my pastor told me that God was calling me to be a pastor. That sounded like a good idea to me—until I became a teen.
As you know by now, my life took a turn in the opposite direction for about 12 years. Addiction became my lifestyle. Drugs and alcohol became my god.
That is, until God pulled me out of that mess.
Recovery Taught Me Unity
I found Jesus again in 2013 and discovered a new life through the 12-step program. What struck me about recovery was its singleness of purpose: help those in need of recovery to find it. That was it.
We could disagree, argue, even take our coffee pot and start a new meeting if necessary. But the purpose remained the same. Help those in need of what we had found. It was so simple.
That simplicity—the clarity of mission—shaped how I’ve always seen the Church. The Church exists to give the world what we have found: healing within a community of love. That’s what I found. That’s why I answered the call. That’s the mission I carry into ordained ministry.
I am here to call the Church back to its singleness of purpose—to seek out and to save.
A New Weight of Responsibility
On June 7th, 2025, I was ordained as an Elder in the Florida Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church. The Bishop laid hands on me and said:
“Take authority as an Elder to preach the Word, to administer the Sacraments, and to order the life of the Church.”
When I returned to my context the following week, I felt something new—a weight on my heart. Not just for my local church—I’d felt that already.
But for the Florida Conference, the Global Connection, and even the Church Universal.
Ordination didn’t inflate me. It sobered me. It tethered me to a calling bigger than my comfort. And it deepened my conviction:
Our purpose is to seek and to save by connecting people to communities of love.
Fractured Times, Fractured Witness
It’s no secret that we live in difficult times. The Church is particularly embattled.
There is little singleness of purpose.
Some parts of the church seem fused with nationalism. Others are perceived as merely social justice organizations with Bibles.
We’ve traded gospel for ideology.
We look more like the two-party system than the body of Christ.
It isn’t supposed to be like this.
The Church at Pentecost
Lately, I’ve been reading Acts again—not as a blueprint for perfect church order, but as a wild story of Spirit-born community.
What strikes me is this:
The early Church wasn’t united because they had figured everything out.
They were united because the Spirit of God was stronger than their divisions.
Take Pentecost. Acts 2 tells us that the Holy Spirit didn’t erase the disciples’ accents or nationalities. Instead, the Spirit empowered them to speak across difference.
People from across the known world heard the gospel in their own languages.
The unity of the Church began not with uniformity, but with the miracle of understanding.
A Recovery Lens on the Church
In recovery, we’re taught to focus on similarities. Our experiences vary, but the feelings of addiction bind us.
We are from varied backgrounds, ideologies, and education levels—but we gather around one thing: healing.
The Church is supposed to operate this way too.
Paul tells us in Ephesians 4:3 to:
“Make every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
But I don’t know about you—I think our efforts are a bit lacking.
We’ve traded the art of understanding for the cheap thrill of shock platforming.
It’s exhausting.
And it’s killing the witness of the Church.
Bold Truth and Deep Love
Now, don’t hear me wrong. Taking authority and ordering the life of the Church does mean saying hard things:
- Christian Nationalism is abhorrent to the gospel.
- Earthly leaders do not usurp the authority of Scripture or of Jesus.
- There is still a box of orthodoxy we must live within if we claim Jesus as Lord.
But we are also called not simply to decry, but to seek understanding.
Because understanding is the beginning of love.
I Still Believe in the Church
That’s what the Spirit makes possible—not just agreement, but understanding.
Not sameness, but shared purpose.
The miracle of Pentecost wasn’t conformity—it was communion.
I’ve seen that communion:
- In recovery meetings where strangers become family.
- In local churches that resist polarization to remain present.
- In the kneeling moment of ordination, where the global Church became real to me.
So let me say this clearly:
The Church is still worth it.
Not because she has everything right—but because her purpose remains:
To seek and to save. To bind up the brokenhearted. To be a community of love.
We don’t need a new mission.
We need to remember the one we already have.
A Final Word
To my fellow leaders:
Guard the unity of the Spirit—not because it’s easy, but because it’s sacred.
To every person wondering if there’s still a place for you in the Church:
Yes. There is.
Because the same Spirit who pulls us out of addiction, despair, fear, or pride is still building bridges between enemies, still calling us back to one another.
So let’s make every effort.
Let’s seek understanding.
Let’s return to our purpose.
Let’s be the Church—not in name only, but in Spirit and in truth.
And may the world, through us, find again what we have found:
Healing within a community of love.
Grace and Recovery 