The words we default to usually tell on us. They
reveal what we actually understand, what we expect,
and sometimes exactly what is lurking in our
hearts before we even are ready to admit it.
Right now, our oldest son, Fletcher, is about
two months away from turning five. Our younger
son, Archer, will turn two just a couple weeks
before that. And lately, Archer has been studying
his older brother like it is his full -time job.
Fletcher does not question everything, but whenever
Christy and I tell him something that he's not
really thrilled about, his go -to weapon is the
word why. Fletcher, it's time to clean up. Why,
Dad? Fletcher, go get your shoes on. Why, Mom?
Sometimes he genuinely wants the explanation,
but other times it's just the strategic delay
of game. Archer has heard this enough. that he
now thinks why is simply the automatic response
to any parental directive he does not like. Archer,
put the toy away. Why? Archer, please sit down.
Why? Archer, stop throwing your food. Why? I
am convinced he does not even know what information
he's fishing for right now. He just knows it
is an excellent way to slow down obedience. But
there's another word Archer has completely mastered.
Mine. If you touch a toy he wants, mine. If you
reach towards his dinner plate, mine. Sometimes
Fletcher or I will be sitting beside Christy,
giving her a hug, and Archer will literally march
over, wedge his tiny little body between us,
and point at her, and confidently declare, mine.
Not my mom, just mine. As if he holds exclusive
property rights to her existence. Kids say these
things out loud. Adults just learn how to make
them sound respectable. We don't scream mine
across the sanctuary. Instead, we say things
like, this is my ministry. This is our church.
My family practically built this place. I've
been here longer than the pastor. The vocabulary
sounds mature, but underneath the polished language
can be the exact same instinct Archer has. When
he locks both arms around a plastic truck and
pulls it to his chest. My! To a massive question
the church has to answer with total honesty.
Who does the church actually belong to? Because
the answer is not the pastor. It's not the members.
It's not the founding families, and it's not
the biggest donor. The church belongs to Jesus.
It belongs to Him. None of us gets to hold it
with a clenched fist. Welcome to Grace on the
Grind, brought to you by Arrow & Roots Coffee
Company, where faith meets the everyday. Here
we take time to notice God's presence in the
middle of life's busiest moments, to find encouragement,
clarity, and a reminder of His grace right in
the grind of daily life. So grab your coffee
and let's take a sip of this cup together. In
our first cup, we asked a foundational question.
Does what we believe about the church actually
match the blueprint of scripture? We all inherited
institutional assumptions, traditions, and stylistic
preference, but familiarity alone does not make
something biblical. And the first assumption
we need to examine is ownership. Who has the
right to define the church's identity? Who sets
the priorities? Who establishes the mission?
Who gets to correct the ship when it drifts?
Ownership determines authority. If the church
belongs to the pastor, it can become an empire
built around his personal vision. If the church
belongs to the members, it can slowly become
a corporate focus group balancing competing preferences.
If it belongs to the legacy families, then influence
can begin to feel like something purchased by
longevity. But if the church belongs entirely
to Jesus, then every single one of us serves
under delegated authority. Leaders, members,
programs, and traditions must all bow to the
same standard. Today, we're diving into Colossians
1, Acts 20, and 1 Peter 5. And my hope is that
by the end of this cup, we will see that Christ's
ownership of the church is not merely a threat
or a heavy -handed rebuke. It is the deepest
comfort we have. The church was never ours to
control. She was entrusted us to steward. Colossians
1 gives us the ultimate theological weight class
for who Jesus is. Paul writes, He is the image
of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.
All things were created through him and for him.
And he is the head of the body, the church. Notice
that Paul does not say Jesus is a historical
figurehead, an inspirational mascot, or just
the name we paint on the brick sign outside.
He says Christ is the head. The head is not ceremonial.
It directs the body, coordinates its movements,
and sustains its life. Without the head, the
body does not become independent. It becomes
a corpse. This means we do not get to build whatever
religious enterprise fits our market research
and then slap his name on it. We do not set our
own agenda and treat Jesus like a cosmic rubber
stamp. Christ defines his church. He gives the
mission. He determines the character. He speaks
through his word. This is where our adult version
of Archer's why gets exposed. We can approach
scripture the same way a toddler approaches an
instruction he does not like. Not with a desire
to understand, but with a quiet attempt to negotiate
the terms. Why do we have to structure leadership
that way? Why can't we just do what works better
for our budget or our culture? Why does the text
get the final say when our modern circumstances
are so different? Studying context and seeking
understanding is vital. But if Christ is the
head of the church, his instructions are a blueprint
to follow, not a rough draft open for peer review.
In Acts 20, Paul gathers the elders from Ephesus
for a tearful high stakes farewell. He knows
wolves are coming, false teachers will arise,
and people will try to hijack the ministry for
personal gain. Look at his warning. Pay careful
attention to yourselves and to all the flock
in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers
to care for the church of God, which he obtained.
with his own blood. Acts 20, 28. That last phrase
settles the ownership debate forever. The church
was purchased by the blood of Christ. She was
not claimed by the people who worked the hardest.
She was not earned by the people who sacrificed
the most time. She was not bought by the people
who gave the most money. She belongs to Jesus
because he paid for her in blood. Now faithful
service matters deeply. People spending decades
teaching Sunday school, cleaning carpets, running
soundboards, counseling the broken, and praying
in secret. That labor is beautiful and should
be honored, but faithful service does not purchase
ownership. Sweat equity does not give us ownership
in Christ's church. Giving does not buy shares.
longevity does not create ownership rights. When
we confuse our personal investment with actual
ownership, entitlement takes root. We start thinking,
after everything I've done for this youth group,
I deserve to have the final say. After what my
family has given financially, they should have
consulted us first. Caring deeply is a gift.
Claiming ownership is a trap. Service is not
a receipt we keep in our back pocket to cash
in for leverage when things do not go our way.
We do not serve so the church will belong to
us. We serve because we belong to Christ. 1 Peter
5 speaks directly to the leaders holding the
microphones. Peter writes, Not domineering over
those in your charge, but being examples to the
flock. Notice the language. Shepherd the flock
of God. He does not say shepherd your flock.
Biblical leadership has real and weighty authority.
Leaders are called to teach, protect, lead, and
correct. But that authority is entirely delegated.
A shepherd watches sheep. that belongs to the
chief shepherd a steward manages an estate that
belongs to the landowner there's a massive difference
between the way an owner thinks and the way a
steward thinks an owner asks what do i want to
do with this property a steward asks what does
the master want done with his property an owner
sees accountability as a threat to his control
A steward sees accountability as part of his
faithfulness. An owner builds the ministry around
his charisma, personality, and indispensability.
A steward consistently points beyond himself
to the cornerstone. Let's be fair here. This
is not just an exercise to throw rocks at a pastor.
Many leaders carry an exhausting, unsustainable
burden because the congregation has trained them
to act like owners we expect them to be ceos
world -class communicators financial wizards
flawless counselors and available for every middle
of the night emergency then we get upset when
they show human limitations some leaders micromanage
everything not because they're hungry for control
but because they're afraid the whole structure
will collapse if they let it go pastor elder
team leader You are called to be faithful stewards.
You are not called to be the Savior. You cannot
fix every heart, sustain every budget, or keep
every person from becoming offended. You are
a shepherd. But the sheep belong to Jesus. Clenched
fists will ruin your health. Open hands will
give you freedom. This is not just a platform
issue. Members can become just as possessive
as leaders. We can easily critique a controlling
pastor while quietly expecting the entire church
to revolve around our personal comfort. We know
exactly how the order of service should run,
which music styles are holy, how the building
should be decorated, and which programs deserve
a line item in the budget. Of course, completely
coincidentally, Usually it's the programs our
kids attend. Now, having preference does not
make someone a consumer. The danger begins when
our preferences become expectations. The body
must satisfy. There's a massive difference between
belonging to a body and possessing it. Belonging
says, I am covenantally responsible to these
people. Ownership says, these people are responsible
to satisfy me. Belonging asks, how can my gifts
strengthen the weak parts of this body? Ownership
asks, why wasn't my preference consulted before
this change? Consumer Christianity does not always
look like church shopping for the flashing megachurch
down the street. It can also look like the traditional
member who treats decades of attendance like
a senior parking spot no one else is allowed
to touch. The ownership battle is as old as the
New Testament. In 1 Corinthians, Paul walks into
a church fractured over human celebrity. The
believers were fragmented into camps. I follow
Paul. He is the original church planter. I follow
Apollos. His preaching is way more dynamic. I
follow Cephas. He's got the traditional weight.
Paul's response is incredibly blunt. Is Christ
divided? Was Paul crucified for you? What then
is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom
you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I
planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.
1 Corinthians 1, 13, 3, 5, and 6. Servants. That
is the category Paul gives them. Not foundations,
not celebrities, not owners. God uses distinct
personalities, distinct gifts, and distinct seasons
of leadership. But the moment a local congregation's
identity becomes completely dependent on a human
personality, it is spiritually unhealthy. Healthy
leaders do not collect personal fans. They make
disciples of Jesus. They do not build a monument
to themselves that falls apart. The day they
leave. They build a body that outlives them.
If you want to know what someone truly believes
about ownership, introduce a little change. A
pastor retires. A new ministry starts. An old
one closes. The service time moves by 30 minutes.
The stage gets remodeled. The music style shifts.
Suddenly, the vocabulary gets transparent. This
just doesn't feel like my church anymore. Let's
be tender here. Change can involve real, legitimate
grief. A physical building or a particular room
may carry profound emotional weight. People were
married there. They buried their parents. They
found Christ there. They wept at those altars.
That history carries real weight, and it should
never be mocked or dismantled carelessly. But
honoring the past is not the same thing. as weaponizing
it against the future. Sometimes our anger over
a structural shift does not reveal a defense
of sound doctrine, simply reveals that our comfort
was interrupted. In any season of change, the
ultimate question cannot be, how do we protect
what I'm used to? It must be, how do we remain
faithfully submitted to what Christ requires
next? This week, Let's take a hard look at our
own hearts. Watch the possessive pronouns. When
you use the phrase my church, what is the underlying
definition? Do you mean this is the covenant
family where God has placed me to serve and submit?
Or do you mean this is the institution that exists
to cater to my lifestyle? Track your reactions.
The next time a decision does not go your way
in a committee meeting, ministry team, or weekend
service, pay close attention to what flashes
inside you. Is it a genuine concern for biblical
truth? Or is it a wounded ego because your preferences
did not win the day? Leaders give responsibility
away. Look at what you carry. Are you intentionally
equipping others? Or are you holding everything
close because you need the validation of feeling
indispensable? Serve without keeping score. Are
you offering your gifts for the good of the body,
or are you quietly using your service to build
influence? Clenched fists are exhausting to maintain.
There is incredible freedom in remembering that
the future of the church does not rest on your
shoulders. It rests on the promise of the one
who has already conquered the grave. The church
belongs to Jesus. He bought her with his blood.
He guides her as her head. He protects her by
his power. He purifies her through his word.
Denominations do not own the church. Pastors
do not own the church. Boards, donors, and founding
names do not own the church. She does not need
a human savior, and she does not need another
owner. She already has one Lord, and his name
is Jesus. So let's love her fiercely, serve her
quietly, hold our preferences loosely, and trust
him completely. Before we close, if Grace and
the Grind has been helpful to you, one of the
simplest ways to support the show is by grabbing
a bag of coffee from Aaron Root's Coffee Company.
You get genuinely good coffee, and it helps keep
these conversations going. You can find the link
right in the show notes. Before we get to the
next full cut, Come back Friday for an extra
shot connected to this conversation. We're going
to dig deeper into the difference between stewardship
and ownership. How faithful responsibility can
slowly drift into control, entitlement, or the
need to feel indispensable. Because stewardship
takes responsibility seriously while remembering
who the true owner is. Then in our next main
cut, we're going to keep letting scripture reshape
our expectations by looking. at a phrase many
of us say, but do not always live as though we
believe. The church is a people, not a place.
We talked about why attending a gathering is
not the same thing as belonging to a body, and
why the New Testament gives us no picture of
a Christian life intentionally disconnected from
the people of God. Thank you for listening to
Grace on the Grind, brought to you by Arrow &
Roots Coffee Company. Until next time, keep the
coffee strong and your fight strong.