“Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did” (John 4:29). These were the Samaritan woman’s words that she couldn’t help but share with her town when Jesus offered her living water instead of the string of men she’d been with. Jesus, holding together the starkness of her personal history and the offer of grace, didn’t sugarcoat her sin. Instead, he offered a way through it—as the promised Messiah, the Savior of the world, who left his disciples’ mouths agape.
The sort of community Jesus built among his first followers pulled from every corner of the ideological spectrum, from nations that were enemies and from sinners and the self-righteous alike. So when he prayed for his followers—who would make up the Christian church—he prayed repeatedly for them to abide in him. He prayed for unity, that the many members of his body would be one as he and the Father are one (John 17:21–22).
He still prays for us today (Rom. 8:34). And we need it.
As I talked about the cover for this issue with editor in chief Russell Moore, he mentioned the impact of seeing Peter’s denial (Luke 22:54–62):
We believe that this scene conveys much more than human tragedy and pathos. Jesus, after all, foretold not only what Peter would do in denying him but also what Jesus himself would do through Peter: “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matt. 16:18). If all we saw in the Gospels was a heroic, stalwart apostle Peter, then we would lose heart. We might even doubt that the church could withstand a time of secularization, dechurching, repetitive scandal, and global threats.
The church is our mother. She is also the bride, beautifully adorned and awaiting Christ, the bridegroom. And like all mothers and brides (along with other biblical metaphors for the church, like warriors, temples, and households—see page 72), the church is not perfect this side of Genesis 3. Nevertheless, the church is the place where we learn, through apprenticeship, of the width and depth of God’s mercy and grace—just as Peter learned of it beside two fires (Luke 22:55; John 21:9).
The church is vital to our spiritual health. In a 2015 CT article titled “The Church Is Your Mom,” Tish Harrison Warren wrote, “For most of Christian history, a relationship with God was inseparable from a relationship with the church.” The church is not an optional “extra.” While staying clear-eyed to ensnaring sin, we must persist in celebrating the church as the central community of redemption and reconciliation that Jesus is building. Jesus doesn’t forsake his church; neither can we.
Russell Moore also said this issue’s cover reminds us that “the glory and beauty and strength of the future isn’t found in the face of Peter or in those of the onlookers. It’s found in the background, on the back cover, in a bird in flight.” The rooster represents all the ways we fumble and fail, but “if all we could hear was the rooster’s crow, we would hear the death knell of the church.” Redemption is at hand. Moore continues,
But look closer. On the pillar behind this scene is the shadow of another bird—a dove—the sign of the promised Holy Spirit, who would fall on a church filled not with geniuses and strategists but with fishermen and peasant women. The dove—like the one Noah sent out from the ark—returns with signs of life. In its beak is a branch from the Tree of Life in the new creation, beyond all we can see or imagine. That’s why we remain confident that the church we love will triumph. The rooster struts, but the dove flies. The rooster crows, but the dove carries a word like tongues of fire.
In this issue, you’ll see evidence of those tongues of fire, even in dark and challenging places.
You’ll read of Japan’s unique challenges for pastors, who minister in hard soil (p. 32). In London, podcaster Justin Brierley creatively approaches apologetics (p. 56), while in Detroit, Jason Wilson redefines manhood (p. 80). Andy Olsen invites us to think about how sin crouches at our door like an invasive species (p. 62), while theologian Andrew Torrance reminds us that our redemption is knit into God’s story from creation (p. 46).
We recognize that individuals, institutions, systems, and churches are—along with all of creation—both beautiful and broken, in need of Christ’s living water like the Samaritan woman. Yet in God’s economy, there is no person, no thing, no institution, no church that is beyond the pale of redemption.
So we pray, looking forward to that redemption, “Come, Lord Jesus.” And as we look around us now, we say, “Come and see.”
Ashley Hales is editorial director for print at Christianity Today.
This article appeared in the March/April 2025 issue of Christianity Today as "Editor's Note".
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