Sermon of the Week - By Curtis Mort

A Sober Reflection On Moral Consensus, Public Schools, And The Fading Spiritual Foundations That Once Gave Small-Town America It’s Strength.

A couple of days ago, I added fuel to an already raging fire by prompting a conversation online about a topic that’s stirred up a lot of emotion in our community - the existence of an after-school, student-led LGBTQ+ club at a local junior high for children as young as ten. A fellow alumna offered a thought that received a lot of positive reaction from “conservatives”:

“I firmly believe our schools should focus on education - reading, math, science, and preparing kids for life - not introducing social or political topics that children are far too young to process… Let kids be kids. That’s what has always made our hometown strong - families raising children with faith, values, and community at the center.”

Her words were heartfelt and true. I replied - and pushed a little:

“Love your heart. This worked great even 25 years ago when we were in school because there was still enough of a moral consensus that the center could hold. ‘That’s what has always made our hometown strong - families raising children with faith, values, and community at the center.’ This is an innately Christian sentiment. It’s the apples. The tree is Christianity. You can’t have the fruit without the tree.”

The Fruits We Love Come From Roots We’ve Forgotten

When one talks about “faith, values, and community,” we’re describing the fruit of a moral and spiritual foundation - one that was built not on vague notions of goodness, but on the living truths of the Christian faith.

For generations, even those who didn’t personally follow Christ still lived in a world shaped by His teachings: that human beings are made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27), that love is patient and kind (1 Corinthians 13:4), that truth matters (John 8:32), and that parents bear the primary responsibility for raising and shaping their children (Deuteronomy 6:6–7).

Those beliefs formed the soil of our communities. They made our schools safe, our neighborhoods trusting, and our families resilient. But over time, we’ve tried to enjoy the fruit without tending to the roots.

We still want kindness, respect, and freedom - but we want them without the moral authority of Scripture. We want community without covenant and virtue without God. Jesus warned us about this very thing when He said, “Every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit… every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matthew 7:17–19).

Cut off the tree, and the fruit inevitably rots.

Why the Center Cannot Hold

My friend’s comment reminded me of a time - not that long ago - when even if people disagreed about religion or politics, there was still a shared sense of right and wrong. The “center” held because it was anchored in something transcendent.

But as the poet Yeats wrote, “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.” When truth becomes subjective, when the fear of God is replaced by the fear of offending, the center collapses. The moral consensus dissolves, and suddenly we’re arguing about whether 10-year-olds should be given taxpayer-funded space (and a shout-out in the morning announcements) to subject their still-forming sense of identity to adult topics about sexuality - instead of learning how to multiply fractions, play chess, or score touchdowns.

The prophet Jeremiah said, “They have healed the wound of my people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6:14). That’s where we are - trying to patch over deep spiritual decay with nice slogans about tolerance and inclusion, when what we really need is repentance and renewal.

A Story from Home

I remember my own junior high years - before smartphones and social media, before every issue became political. My 20th high school reunion was just a matter of weeks ago, and the prevailing sentiment as we looked through pictures of dances, spirit days, and hair with too much product was this: “Simpler times. Wish we could go back and cherish a little more how good we had it.” My teachers cared not just about grades but about character. I have lasting impressions of teachers constantly challenging my complacency, rebuking me for sinful behavior, and refusing to make excuses for inexcusable behavior. Our families and community, even if imperfect, knew there were boundaries that protected innocence.

That wasn’t accidental. It was the residual blessing of a society still influenced by Christian conviction. Churches were more full. Parents prayed. It was taboo to mock the Bible - Scripture was respected, even by those who didn’t open it often.

That moral capital has been spent - and we’re shocked that the center is wobbling.

Planting the Tree Again

We can’t just lament what’s being lost. If we want those wholesome “apples” again - strong families, moral community schools, safe neighborhoods - we’re going to have to replant the tree.

That starts in our homes. In how we talk with our children about truth and love. In how we model grace and courage. It starts when fathers take up spiritual leadership, when mothers shape homes around faith, and when communities stop outsourcing morality to government institutions.

Jesus said, “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me” (John 15:4). The solution isn’t nostalgia - it’s renewal.

If we abide in Him again, the fruit will return. The peace, the unity, the strength of our hometowns - all of it grows naturally when the roots are deep in Christ.

A Final Thought

We don’t restore our communities by winning Facebook arguments or school board debates alone. We do it by faithfully tending the tree - in our own hearts, homes, and churches.

As Psalm 1 says: “He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither.”

If we want that kind of fruit again, we must return to the source - not just to values but to the God who gives them.