The title reflects King David’s lament when he learned that Jonathan and Saul had been slain by the Philistines on the slopes of Mount Gilboa.

Saul sealed his own fate through an impetuous plunge away from the Lord. Jonathan, on the other hand, showed the nobility of a prince walking with God. Yet loyalty to his father drew him into a doomed mission.

We might also apply the title sadly to some of our great institutions today. Take Harvard – once considered the vanguard of scholarship.

Its motto for much of its early history, adopted in 1692, read “Veritas Christo et Ecclesiae,” or “Truth for Christ and His Church.” Imagine that.

Eventually, the wise ones thought they could keep “Veritas” while discarding “Christo et Ecclesiae.” An utter impossibility. Christ is the Truth (John 14:6).

Recently, Harvard hit a new low by announcing some of its upcoming courses: “RuPaulitics: Drag, Race, and Desire” and “Queer Ethnography.” To teach these, the school hired a new visiting associate professor of gender and sexuality studies – who also happens to be a drag performer with an X-rated stage name. Is this 21st-century education?

It isn’t just Harvard. Seven of the eight Ivy League schools were founded as Christian institutions. But they long ago sent both Christ and Truth packing.

Even more concerning are churches that no longer preach the clear gospel. It isn’t enough to claim the “evangelical” title if you aren’t actually evangelistic. Christian, when was the last time you shared the good news of salvation with someone?

I’m reminded of a story – whether fable or fact – about a church once filled with Christ-loving, Bible-living, gospel-preaching believers.

They had carved these words above the archway leading into the churchyard: “We Preach Jesus Christ and Him Crucified,” taken from the apostle Paul’s declaration in 1 Corinthians 2:2.

In time, the church became too “modern” to preach the old-time gospel. The cross was considered too crude for polite society. Meanwhile, ivy growing on the archway covered the last three words.

It now read, “We Preach Jesus Christ” – an admirable subject in itself. But it’s not primarily a great example or a great teacher we need. What we need is a great Savior. Without Christ crucified and raised again, sinners have no hope.

The ivy continued to grow, soon covering the blessed name “Jesus Christ,” as those in the pulpit and pew alike laid aside their Bibles for other uses – keeping marriage and death announcements, pressing wildflowers, and collecting dust. The church became a place of earthbound positive thinking, tepid pep talks, and mere moralizing.

At last, just before the doors closed for the final time, the inscription read only: “We Preach.” Big deal.

It may be too late for the Ivy League – but not for the ivy, so to speak, that covers our message.

How many of us are tired of halfhearted, humdrum Christianity? Who among us will stand and say, “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me”? (Galatians 2:20, BSB)

Dying to self. Growing in Christ. Living by faith. Driven by love.

Welcome back, church.

Jabe Nicholson of Starkville is an author and publisher who fears using so much tact he doesn’t make contact. Write to him at [email protected] or visit www.uplook.tv