Love Surrenders

Focus Statement

Surrender isn’t weakness. It’s trust.

And when love lets go, it doesn’t disappear—

it makes space for something holy.

Point of Relation

Two weeks ago, a TikTok video I made—

using the image of Baphomet—sparked concern.

It was provocative, but It wasn’t meant to shock and

It wasn’t actually about Satan.

It was a reflection on fear.

On how churches often label

what they don’t understand as “evil.”

In fact, here’s the irony being missed:

The reaction to the video that I’ve been informed of

proves that point.

Now, of course, I understand that SPRC exists for accountability—and people have a right to raise concerns.

But what grieves me is that

not a single person came to me first.

To ask me about it, what it meant, why I made it.

And friends, that tells a story too.

But I’m not bringing this up to defend myself.

I’m bringing it up

because it reveals something all of us wrestle with—Trust.

Trust in God.

Trust in truth.

Trust in a pastor who doesn’t fit the mold.

Let me be clear: I’m not angry. I’m not even hurt.

But I am passionate—

because I know what I said, I know why I said it, and I stand by it.

And I think it is important to share this with you too, for context:

This is how I hear God—and when I say hear, I do mean hear—

I hear God

through prayer, meditation, and silence.

I’m a mystic. That’s not a title. It’s been a lifelong practice.

I listen. I wait. I speak only when the Spirit says, “Speak.”

And the Spirit says this:

Love doesn’t cling. It doesn’t control.

Love surrenders.

Not out of fear—but out of trust.

“For,” as Paul wrote in 2 Timothy 1:7, “God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”

What Scripture Says

In our hearing of Paul’s words today in Philippians,

we’re given a vision of love that lets go.

Not clinging. Not grasping. Not proving itself.

But emptying itself. Surrendering for the sake of others.

That’s the heart of Jesus in this letter to the Philippians.

That’s the heart of the Gospel.

Jesus didn’t just take on flesh—he laid down power.

He didn’t just serve—he obeyed, all the way to the cross.

And Paul doesn’t just describe that… he dares us to imitate it.

To stop looking out for our own interests.

To stop chasing status or being right.

And instead—to trust God enough to let go.

That, my friends, is what surrender looks like.

And it’s not passive. It’s powerful.

Because letting go of fear is what makes room for joy.

Letting go of control is what makes room for resurrection.

Letting go of image is what makes room for truth.

This kind of surrender isn’t defeat. It’s divine alignment.

And it’s not just for Jesus. Paul says it’s for us too.

“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.”

What This Means for You

Maybe you’ve been holding tight lately—

to fear, to control, to expectations that no longer fit.

Maybe it’s not just others you don’t trust. Maybe it’s God.

But here’s the invitation:

You don’t have to carry it all.

You don’t have to fix it all.

You don’t have to be anyone other than who God made you to be.

Surrender isn’t giving up. It’s giving over.

To the One who already knows, already sees, and already loves.

What This Means for Us

As a church, we have a choice.

We can keep clinging to comfort

and avoiding truth—

or we can surrender.

Surrender fear for trust.

Control for Christ.

Silence for honest, Spirit-led love.

Let us remember:

A church that surrenders in love is a church ready for God? Amen? Amen.

Written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).