The Quiet Strength of the Small Church

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by Bart Denny “I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.” — Revelation 3:8 (NIV) I have wrestled with a quiet burden that many pastors know all too well—even if they rarely say it out loud. If I’m doing this right… shouldn’t the church be exploding in growth? I’ve poured myself into small congregations with love, prayer, and the Word—only to measure progress in single digits, not surging crowds. For a long time, I wondered if that meant I was failing. But slowly, God has reoriented my heart. He’s shown me that the small churches I’ve pastored aren’t signs of weakness—they’re signs of His unique calling on my life. The roles I’ve held, the communities I’ve served, the saints I’ve shepherded—they aren’t consolation prizes. They’re my assignment from God Himself. And if you’re serving or worshiping in a small church, you need to hear this clearly: You are not less-than. You are not broken. You are not abnormal. You are ess...

When Power Fails and God Feels Silent: Trusting the Unseen King

by Bart L. Denny, PhD

 We live in a world that idolizes power. We see it in governments, corporations, pulpits, and headlines. The bigger the platform, the louder the voice, the flashier the success—the more we’re told it matters.

But what happens when power disappoints us?

History is full of powerful people whose strength was only skin deep. Corrupt kings. Fallen pastors. Empty promises from people we trusted. Sometimes, the very systems we hope will protect us end up causing the most harm.

It’s easy to feel discouraged—even cynical.

But there’s an ancient story tucked away in the Old Testament that offers a surprising dose of hope. A story where God’s name is never mentioned… yet His presence is unmistakable.

Enter Esther. A Forgotten Queen in a Forgotten Book.

The Book of Esther opens not with divine miracles, but with political theater. King Xerxes, ruler of the Persian Empire, throws a lavish, 180-day party. Golden couches. Flowing wine. Opulent gardens. It’s less a celebration and more a campaign rally—a carefully staged spectacle to display his dominance.

But the glitter masks something fragile.

Behind the pomp lies insecurity. When Queen Vashti refuses to be paraded before drunken men, Xerxes erupts in rage. He’s a man with unimaginable power—yet can’t handle one act of dignity from his own wife.

What follows is absurd: a royal decree to banish Vashti and preserve male dominance across the empire. (Yes, seriously.) It reads like satire. But it’s deadly real.

Power, When Left Unchecked, Becomes Destructive

Esther 1 holds up a mirror to every age, ours included. We don’t need to look far to see leaders exploiting others for gain. History is littered with the wreckage of abuse. And sadly, the Church isn’t immune.

What makes this story stand out isn’t just the critique of power—but what happens next.

Because while Xerxes plots and postures, God is quietly setting the stage.

Vashti’s removal—though unjust—opens a door. Esther, a young Jewish woman living in exile, is about to be placed in a position of influence. She’s not there yet. But already, divine fingerprints are all over the mess.

It’s easy to miss… unless you know where to look.

The Quiet Power of Providence

Esther is one of only two books in the Bible that never mentions God. There are no prophets, no parted seas, no fire from heaven.

But if you’ve ever looked back on your life and seen how unexpected turns brought you to the right place at the right time, you already understand Esther’s message:

God doesn’t need the spotlight to be sovereign.

He doesn’t shout over the chaos—He works through it. He isn’t absent when life feels unfair—He’s operating in ways we don’t always see. Even in silence, He’s setting redemptive plans in motion.

That’s the beauty of biblical providence: God orchestrates the ordinary for extraordinary purposes.

When the Cross Looked Like Defeat

There’s no better example than Jesus.

On the day of His crucifixion, it looked like the powers of this world had won. Religious leaders conspired. Rome approved. Friends fled. The sky went dark.

But what seemed like silence was salvation.

The Cross wasn’t a detour in God’s plan—it was the plan. A brutal symbol of empire became the instrument of redemption. Hidden power changed the world.

And the King no one could see rose to reign forever.

So What About Us?

Maybe you’re facing injustice—or watching others suffer at the hands of broken systems.

Maybe God feels silent. Like He’s holding back, or not showing up.

Esther 1 invites us to hold on. To look past appearances. To place our hope not in earthly thrones, but in the one throne that never shakes.

The power you can see is often fragile. The King you can’t see is always faithful.

So trust Him in the silence. Serve others when you could dominate. Speak truth with grace. And build your life on a kingdom that won’t crumble.

Because the King is still on the throne.

And He’s not done writing your story.

I preached the sermon this is based on at Pathway Church on Sunday, May 25, 2025. You can watch it on our YouTube Channel.

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