Shar Walker 12/7/18 Shar Walker 12/7/18

We Wear the Mask, But We Don’t Have to

The days stretched on like a bad movie that would never end. I wore a cheerful mask as I meandered through my day. I was found myself floundering in the darkness of depression. Sometimes you look at someone and wonder what’s going on behind their eyes. “How are you doing?” friends would ask. “I’m good . . . ” I uttered robotically.

But if you looked close enough behind the mask, you could see I was unraveling. There’s always more happening underneath the mask.

GRASPING FOR WORDS

Some suffering is brought on by our sin and other times suffering happens without invitation. Our hardships are colorful and various. Instead of finding the words to explain our pain, it’s easy to mask our trials with the subtleties of “I’m good," “Things are fine," or if you’re talking to other Christians, “I’m blessed!" We put on the mask of cheer because this is expected of us.

Paul Laurence Dunbar communicates similar sentiments in his poem “We Wear the Mask:”

We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, — This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties.

I marvel that out of the labors of suffering, beauty such as this can be birthed. The Psalms remind us that corporate and individual suffering can’t be divorced from the human experience. They so eloquently reveal what’s happening underneath the mask. They do not hold back how bleak life in a Genesis 3 world can become. They show the intensity of our pain and the goodness of our God.

When the Worst Has Come

If you live long enough, there will be a point when your worst fears become reality. Your marriage goes from bad to worse when you find the divorce papers in your mailbox. Your oldest child proclaims, “There is no God!" despite your best efforts to train them in the way they should go. You find yourself struggling, again, with the same sin that has been a snare most of your life.

Perhaps, you receive the paralyzing news of the death of a parent or loved one. You feel the pulse of your own heart as the doctor mumbles, “There isn’t a heartbeat.” You sigh at the long road ahead as your people are marginalized, disenfranchised, or enslaved by fellow humans. The list goes on.

The people of Israel were no strangers to suffering. Yes, God chose them to display his glory to the nations, but this privilege did not exempt them from years of pain. In Psalm 129, the psalmist removes the mask, and we witness the metaphorical and literal scars which reside underneath.

In verses 1 and 2, the psalmist sings twice that, “since my youth they have often attacked me." As a people, their suffering was long and consistent. Throughout their history, they went in and out of enslavement to other nations. From the cries of Egypt (Ex. 3:7-8) to the lion’s den in Babylon (Dan. 6), the Israelites experienced consistent attacks. Across generations, some of their worst fears happened over and over again.

In verse 3 the psalmist paints a beautifully disturbing word picture describing physical pain as they sing how “plowmen plow over [their] back; they made their furrows long”. Plows are sharp tools used to break up the earth to plant seeds. Furrows are the long narrow trenches made in the ground by the plows. The mask is off, and here we find the home of the tears and desperation of the suffering.

ATTACKED BY SIN

Similarly, the final stanza of Dunbar’s poem, “We Wear the Mask,” removes the mask as he speaks of this long road of pain:

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To Thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh, the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask.

And this is the case for us. While we may not be enslaved, we still experience attacks. Our attacks may be our sin patterns, spiritual warfare, or an actual enemy who seeks to destroy our reputation by gossip. Enemies are seeking to kill us, bringing many of our fears to reality.

Suffering Together

Perhaps the most beautiful part of Psalm 129 is the call for all of Israel to say, “since my youth they have often attacked me." This Psalm speaks of the collective suffering of a group of people. It gives words to the corporate cries of the oppressed.

My ancestors penned many poems and songs like this when they were, and in some ways still are, oppressed by fellow humans. Littered throughout the beautiful words of negro spirituals and poems written by African-American men and women are the collective pronouns of “we," “our” and “us." African-American poet, Melvin B. Tolson, displays similar sentiments as Psalm 129 in regard to the collective nature of suffering in his poem, “Dark Symphony.” He writes:

Oh, how can we forget Our human rights denied? Oh, how can we forget Our manhood crucified? When Justice is profaned And plea with curse is met, When Freedom’s gates are barred, Oh, how can we forget?

Some may not feel this collective “we” in which these poems and some psalms speak, but we can learn from them. We learn of the nature of the church community—we were meant to suffer alongside one another.

As one body (1 Cor. 12:26) we not only worship with one another, but we feel deeply with one another. As Romans 12:15 says, we “Rejoice with those who rejoice, [and] weep with those who weep.” We draw near to our brothers and sisters in the faith, and we see what is underneath the mask. We don’t disregard it or explain their suffering away; we weep with them.

Through bearing burdens together, we become a tangible expression of the comfort of Christ to them. To even begin to do this, we must be close enough to our brothers and sisters in Christ to know what is going on in their lives and to see behind the mask.

God’s Righteous Character

In the suffering of his people, Tolson writes, “When Freedom’s gates are barred/ Oh, how can we forget?” As Psalm 129 reminds us, the goal of our suffering is not to forget it, erase it, or ignore it.

Psalm 129, and all the Psalms of Ascents, were written to celebrate seasonal feasts in Jerusalem. The Israelites sang these songs corporately and regularly. They sang about their oppression and the Lord’s deliverance. In singing, they forced themselves to remember. Faith helps us to see that God will work in the future—like he has done in the past—because of his consistently righteous character. As one quote renders it, “What God has done for his people formerly are, in effect, promises too. Faith may conclude that the Lord will work in like manner in the future. If he delivered others who rested in him, he will deliver me if I trust in him now. He is the same yesterday and forever.”

In Psalm 129:2, the Israelites sing that their enemies have not prevailed against them. If we were to read only verse 1-2, we might conclude that the Israelites were the reason their enemies didn’t overcome them. We may assume they delivered themselves from their enemies.

HOLD FAST TO THE PROMISE

As we read on, verse 4 reveals salvation didn’t come from the Israelites own strength and efforts but from the Lord’s righteous character. They could sing “the LORD is righteous” (Ps. 129:4) because they drew on years of history which proved the Lord’s faithfulness to them. He delivered others—and by faith—we can believe he will deliver us as well.

We, too, can hold fast to this same promise. For centuries God has kept his Word to his people. He stayed true to his unchanging and righteous character. The ultimate evidence of his deliverance is through the person and work and Jesus Christ who delivered us from the bondage of sin. And in a myriad of smaller ways, he will do the same for us.

Our deliverance may be different than we expect and slow coming. Perhaps instead of removing us from the struggle, he will mold and shape our character, integrity, and faith in it (Rom. 5:3-5; Jas. 1:3). If we find ourselves in the dark night of the soul—before the face of our Father and in the presence of his people—we can remove the mask. We can mourn and remember the faithfulness of our God. And we can recall, he loves to shine his light into the darkest places.

SharDavia “Shar” Walker lives in Atlanta, GA with her husband Paul. She serves on staff with Campus Outreach, an interdenominational college ministry, and enjoys sharing her faith and discipling college women to be Christian leaders. Shar is a writer and a speaker and is currently pursuing an M.A. in Christian Studies at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary.

Jeremy Writebol 10/28/18 Jeremy Writebol 10/28/18

The Blessing of Being Wrong

“YOU’RE WRONG!” Several middle school students I once ministered to competed in regional debate tournaments twice a year. They were well prepared on the topic of debate: they knew the rebuttals and oratory tactics to land their points, and how to demonstrate the logical flaws in their opponents’ arguments. Neatly dressed and armed with little index cards of research—and cut-throat for winning the competitions—these students were preparing for debating and defeating contrasting world-views.

When it was time for a tournament, I would famously offer any student debating in the competition $20 in hard cash if they would, in the midst of their debate, stand up, point at the other side, and yell “YOU’RE WRONG!” and then quietly sit down again, thus ending the debate.

Whether they wanted to avoid the scolding and potential embarrassment of losing the tournament for such a brash tactic, or whether they were unsure of my ability to pay, I don't know. But no one ever took the risk.

Hearing “YOU’RE WRONG!” is an awakening. I for one don’t like it. But I need to hear it. “You’re wrong!” forces me to look at my situation or point of view and assess where I may have missed a turn. Sometimes, being told I’m wrong leads me to hunker down into my convictions and stand my ground. No matter what, it’s always an awakening moment. There’s a blessing in being wrong.

Painfully Aware

The poet of Psalm 120 had a moment of awakening: “In my distress I called out to the Lord.” The weight of discovering he’d been wrong was startling and traumatic; it crushed his soul. He felt misery and anguish, a blend he called “distress.” Before we can appreciate the psalmist’s awakening, we have to understand his story.

Three times a year the Hebrews were required to leave their homes and journey to Jerusalem holy days of festival celebration. Their pilgrimage was an embodiment of the life of faith. Moving to Jerusalem was “ascending the hill of the Lord,” all the while asking, “Who can do this?” (Ps. 15; 24). As they traveled, a liturgy took shape to remind and provide “a guidebook and map” for the journey of faith, as Eugene Peterson would say. This liturgy was captured in fifteen Psalms—Psalms 120-134—affectionately known as the “Psalms of Ascent.”

Every so often I realize that an important date is so quickly approaching that unless I shift into high gear, there is simply no way I’ll be prepared. I’ve never waited to buy Christmas presents until Christmas Eve, but there have been a few close calls for birthdays and other holidays. The thought of missing the date gives me a much-needed awakening.

I imagine there were some busy Jewish families that would share that moment of sheer fright when they realized the festival was merely a day or two away. Pulling together a few essentials and getting out of the house was hectic and hurried. The frustration of living so far away and making the journey is heard in the psalmist’s cries: “I have stayed in Meshech . . . I have lived among the tents of Kedar,” as if to say, “I am so far from the city, so far from God’s place, so far away from being who I should be.”

The journey to Jerusalem was hard and perhaps painful, but necessary. Realizing our distance from God can get us moving. We hear “YOU’RE WRONG!” and realize we’re so far in the wrong direction that unless we get moving right now, we’ll never catch up. Welcome to repentance.

Becoming aware of his distance from God was the only way the psalmist could be changed. Awakening to his reality was the only way he could be moved. This is exactly what God wants for us.

The Refreshment of Repentance

Repentance is described by many as an emotion. We often hear of repentance in terms of sorrow, anguish, or contrition. While the awakened sense of wrongness that comes with repentance does bring true sorrow, repentance isn’t merely an emotional response. In the psalmist’s case, there is anger at his own decisions, disgust over his apathy, and desire for a new life. But his emotions don’t tell us he’s repenting. His actions do.

The singular verb, “called,” of Psalm 120 tells us how to respond to God when awakened to our sin. It directs us to action. After hearing “YOU’RE WRONG!” he realized the sinfulness of his hometown had worn off on him, and he called out for help: “In my distress I called to the Lord.”

Left to himself, he’d always be stuck, always be distant from God, always among those who love war. That was the painful realization of his heart and soul. He longed for peace, for justice, and for nearness to God.

Repentance must be an action for us too. We have restitution to make, changes to implement, steps to take. But repentance cannot and will not be real and refreshing until we make the first step—crying out for help.

So many self-help systems are geared around willpower; washing your face, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, and other simple strategies. But growing near to God though takes another path—helplessness. The false notion that “God helps those who help themselves” falls short. God helps those who cannot help themselves, and so they cry out to him in desperation.

The refreshment of repentance is not in the actions we take or the sorrow we feel. The refreshment of repentance starts with the awareness that “YOU’RE WRONG!” coupled with the cry “GOD, HELP!” We can’t fix our wrongness but we can cry out for help.

Promised Reprieve

The full opening verse of Psalm 120 speaks for the whole: “I cried out to the Lord, and he answered me.” He was wrong and weary, misguided and messy. Far from home and far from God. Yet God answered him. This is the blessing of being wrong. But it’s only for those who are aware they are wrong and need some help. God answers those who realize they’re wrong and cry out to him.

What resounding hope and help this is for stagnated and sedentary disciples like you and me! No matter how wrong we are, no matter how painful the awareness of our sinfulness, God is there to meet us when we cry out. He’s there to bring a blessing when we are wrong.

Instead of self-importance or righteousness or religious performance, all we have to offer God is a cry for his help. He meets all our weakness with all his strength. This is the promise for those of us who hear, “YOU’RE WRONG!” and answer, “Yes, it’s true! God help me!” For those who will cry out in need and desperation for help and rescue from their sin, God promises he will answer. His answer gets us moving. His grace silences the shout of “YOU’RE WRONG” and tells us “Come, home!”

What are we waiting for? The loving, open arms of the Father are open to us. Let’s allow the painful awareness of our sin to urge us to cry out for his help, and let’s start on the road to God. He’ll not only meet us on the way, but he will also bring us the whole way there.

Jeremy Writebol is the Executive Director of GCD. He is the husband of Stephanie and father of Allison and Ethan. He serves as the lead campus pastor of Woodside Bible Church in Plymouth, MI. He is also an author and contributor to several GCD Books including everPresent and That Word Above All Earthly Powers. He writes personally at jwritebol.net. You can read all of Jeremy’s articles for GCD here.

James Williams 10/23/18 James Williams 10/23/18

Sin is Crouching at Your Door—Don’t Let it in

He tried to let it go but he couldn't stop thinking about it. Cain's anger burned within him. Why had his brother, Abel, received God’s favor and he hadn’t? It wasn’t fair. When Cain’s mind lingered on thoughts of harming his brother, he didn’t try to stop it.

Then the Lord confronted him:

"Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it." —Genesis 4:6-7

Sin was crouching at Cain’s door. He could let it in and be devoured or he could keep the door bolted. The same is true for us. Whether we open the door depends on what we believe about sin.

The Devastation of Sin

The Lord warns Cain of the devastating effects of sin, which he refers to as a ravaging animal waiting for its opportunity to pounce. Sin's desire is like the longing of a predator for its prey. If Cain does not repent of his evil thoughts, the crouching animal will devour him.

"Nothing about sin is its own; all its power, persistence, and plausibility are stolen goods. Sin is not really an entity but a spoiler of entities, not an organism but a leech on organisms," says Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. Like a rip in our jeans, sin is merely the tearing of something good. Or as C.S. Lewis writes, “Badness is only spoiled goodness. And there must be something good before it can be spoiled."

God created everything and declared it good. When sin entered the world, it was not a new creation but a perversion of God's good design. God gives us food but we turn into gluttons. He gives us sex but we turn to adultery and lust. Relationships become abusive, codependent, or manipulative; material blessings devolve into greed; passion turns to uncontrolled anger.

Sin perverts God’s good gifts. While promising to fulfill us, our sin instead leaves a wake of devastation.

The Subtlety of Sin

"To do its worst, evil needs to look its best,” Plantinga, Jr. says. Satan doesn't come to us with horns and a pitchfork lest we recognize him for who he is. Rather, he "disguises himself as an angel of light" (2 Cor. 11:14).

Our sin disguises itself as good and only asks for small compromises. Just one more glance, one more “harmless” flirt, one white lie, or one more high. Inch by inch, our sin leads us down a path of destruction.

It doesn't require big steps. The small steps are much easier to justify. However, a thousand small steps will lead you into the same dark pit as a few big steps. Don’t let the subtlety of sin deceive you into believing your sin is “no big deal.”

Sin is crouching at your door. And it won’t settle until you are devoured—or until you decide to rule over it.

Repent Before Sin Devours You

Slowly but surely, Cain's jealousy led him down the dark road to murder. The Lord graciously confronted him and warned him of sin, the wild animal ready to devour him. It wasn't too late for Cain; there was still time to repent.

But he didn't. He gave opened the door to sin and the predator devoured him. Icy sin coursed through his veins, freezing his heart until he murdered his brother Abel in cold blood.

"Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden" (Gen. 4:16). Instead of fulfilling him, sin separated Cain from the Lord’s fulfilling presence. Instead of bringing Cain joy and satisfaction, sin isolated him from the Giver of joy, severing his connection to what is good and beautiful.

Like Cain, we must beware the danger lurking within us. Our sinful hearts cannot be trusted (Jer. 17:9). The distance between our thoughts and our actions is closer than we think. Sinful thoughts nudge us into sinful actions before we realize what's happening. The familiar quote, "Sin will take you farther than you want to go, keep you longer than you want to stay, and cost you more than you want to pay," comes to mind.

But the good news is that God's grace is greater than sin’s power. Take God’s advice to Cain: repent of your sin before it destroys you. Take every thought captive lest it lead you down a dark path (2 Cor. 10:5-6). If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off (Matt. 5:30; Mark 9:43).

Grace is Greater Still

After David was confronted with his sin, he cried out to the Lord, “Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow . . . hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities” (Ps. 51:7,9). David’s sin was great but the Lord’s grace was greater still. This triumphant grace is lavished upon the broken and repentant, or as David says, “A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps. 51:17).

God sent his Son to bear his wrath and free his children from the bondage of sin, and to set us on the path of life. Because God’s justice against our sin was satisfied on the cross, we are given this wonderful promise: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

God delivers those who cry out in genuine repentance and faith. Yes, the crouching at your door is ferocious and wants to devour you. But as devoted as sin is to your destruction, God is even more devoted to the good of those who trust him.

Don’t Let Sin Have the Last Word

Don’t go the way of Cain. Instead, follow the path of Abel: “By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. And through his faith, though he died, he still speaks” (Heb. 11:4).

What gift did Abel offer God? The firstborn of his flock of sheep, yes. But what he truly gave the Lord was his faith. And because of his faith, he still speaks today.

Sin may be crouched outside your door like a roaring lion (1 Pet. 5:8) but there is a greater lion still—the risen Lord Jesus, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. And this Lion rules over all (Rev. 5:5).

Don’t let sin have the last word. Rule over it through faith in the Greater Lion.

James Williams has served as an Associate Pastor at FBC Atlanta, TX since 2013. He is married to Jenny and they have three children and are actively involved in foster care. He is in the dissertation stage of a Ph.D. in Systematic Theology. You can follow James Twitter or his blog where he writes regularly.

Mike Phay 10/16/18 Mike Phay 10/16/18

Loving and Living in Kairos Time

One of the most significant inventions in human history is something you’ve probably never heard of. It hasn’t received much press, even though it helped fundamentally define the way we now live. It’s called the escapement. First used in the 13th century, the escapement is the piece in the machinery of a clock that allows it to measure time in equally divided increments. It regulates the descent of weights or the unwinding of a compressed spring in a measured fashion, creating the distinctive “tick-tock” of the clock that so infamously vexed Captain Hook.

Take a moment and seriously consider what life would be like without clocks. How would you measure time? How would you know when to show up for an appointment? Or when the football game will be on TV? How would you know what time to take a lunch break—or when you need to come back?

Precisely measured time is such an ingrained part of our experience it is nearly impossible to imagine life without it. Even as I write this, I’m aware of the current time, my next appointment, and the looming deadline to turn in this article.

Prior to the escapement, time was understood more like a flowing river than a ticking clock. The sun, moon, and stars—mysterious heavenly bodies that lay beyond human control—were the base tools for measuring time in large units such as days, months, and years. Even so, time was elastic, as changing seasons ushered in longer or shorter days.

The invention of the escapement marked a radical paradigm shift from an elastic, rhythmic, flowing concept of time to a precisely measured, evenly divided, universal understanding of time. As historian Daniel Boorstin writes, “There are few greater revolutions in human experience than this movement from the seasonal or ‘temporary’ hour to the equal hour” (from his book The Discoverers, published in 1983).

All that to say, we have a complex relationship with time. But it doesn't have to be so complicated.

TOO BUSY MARKING TIME

The Greek term for this kind of measured time is chronos, from which we get the word chronological. We function largely in chronos time—making and keeping appointments, celebrating birthdays and anniversaries, and trying to fit as much as possible into the limited time we have. Type-A personalities are known for taking control of their time, not allowing one second to be wasted. “Time is money,” we are told, because “time and tide wait for no man.”

As helpful as the escapement was, giving us a sense of dominance over an uncontrollable part of life, it came with its own requirements. As Boorstin writes, man “accomplished this mastery by putting himself under the dominion of a machine with imperious demand all its own.”

In the area of relationships, when we function primarily in chronos time, people either fit into our schedules or they don’t. Our relationships are controlled by a scarcity of minutes and hours. To give our attention, time, or energy to another person is to sacrifice a limited commodity.

So we must decide, with every interaction, if the person before us—the one vying for “a unit” of our day—is going to be a drain to an already limited asset or a worthy investment of our time. We play a game of give-and-take based on what we can get from them in the time allotted. People become objects, defined by space and time, and their fundamental nature as persons who bear the image of God is devalued.

WELCOMING DIVINE APPOINTMENTS

However, there is another way—one more ancient and biblical—to view time. The Greek term that defines this understanding of time is kairos. Though a complex word, kairos can be understood to mean “a specific and decisive point” in time.

The idea of kairos time, in the Bible, carries with it an idea of divine appointment: that God is in control of time itself, and he has appointed times, seasons, and dates to fulfill his own purposes. Each moment is, therefore, pregnant with purpose above and beyond our own understanding.

Kairos time is purposeful, yet outside of our control. Our lives, therefore, are filled with a multitude of divine appointments, rather than a long line of annoying interruptions.

Scripture is full of divine kairos appointments. Take Philip, for example, who was on the frontline of a revival in Samaria (Acts 8:4-25), which included crowds paying attention to and responding to the gospel, exorcisms, and miraculous healings. People were being baptized and receiving the Holy Spirit right and left.

In the middle of this, “an angel of the Lord said to Philip, ‘rise and go toward the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.’ This is a desert place” (Acts 8:26). This is a kairos moment for Philip: a divinely appointed time for him to obey and respond to God’s leading, which he did: “And he rose and went” (Acts 8:27a).

STAYING IN THE MOMENT

For an angel to send Philip to the Gaza road seems a bit like benching a player who’s batting a thousand. Or ending a career right at its apex. “God is doing some amazing work through you … therefore, leave right away, go out to the middle of the desert, and hang out in the wilderness.”

Do you feel like you’ve been taken out of your sweet spot in life, and relegated to the side of a desert road? Perhaps life has been interrupted with a cancer diagnosis, the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, or a family member struggling with addiction.

It’s easy to get distracted by the wilderness and miss God’s hand in the midst of it. We get overwhelmed with the geography (the desert) and miss the moment (the kairos). What God calls us all to do is be attentive to how he wants to use us right where he has us, even if it’s a place we never would choose. Sometimes the time is more important than the place.

Will you respond to the perfect moment—for every moment is his—like Philip did? For Philip, obedience to God landed him in a chariot with a foreigner and religious outcast. For this man, Philip’s response to this kairos moment was the necessary piece of the puzzle that connected him with Jesus (Acts 8:27-40).

God is at work in every situation. So many times I’ve spoken to friends who have recognized and obediently acted on the divine appointments which came while sitting in a chemotherapy chair, speaking gospel truth and comforting other patients. Could God use something as bad as cancer to put you in the place where he wants to use you?

LOVING AND LIVING IN KAIROS TIME

When we live in the freedom of kairos time, people are no longer seen as time-sucking drains. We are no longer forced to view others as assets or liabilities, worthy or unworthy investments. Because people are not things, they cannot be reduced with such a myopic view.

Loving people in kairos time means no longer seeing time as a scarce asset under our control, but a gift to be generously distributed. It means viewing every person as worthy of our time, because not only are they created in God’s image, they are placed before us by a God who loves them and wants to love them through us.

Because of this, there are no interruptions. Only divine appointments.

Mike Phay serves as Lead Pastor at FBC Prineville (Oregon) and as a Staff Writer at Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He has been married to Keri for over 21 years, and they have five amazing kids. You can follow him on Twitter (@mikephay) or check out his blog.

Myra Dempsey 9/25/18 Myra Dempsey 9/25/18

Shaking Free from the 'Shoulds'

I don’t know exactly where they come from—these negative, dictating thoughts. The uniform they wear reads “Should,” and they consider themselves experts on any and every nuanced area of my life. Sometimes our relationship feels like an awkward dance, in which I dread being their partner but can’t drum up the courage to exit the dance floor. I twirl stiffly from one "Should" to another, barely touching but getting close enough to see the pursed-lip disapproval on each face.

There are some who dominate the room. "Should-Be-A-Better-Mother" is perhaps the most formidable, along with "Should-Be-A-Better-Christian" and "Should-Be-More-Healthy."

Like a finger pointing in my face, my own thoughts attack even the most mundane decisions, and no matter which way I go, it feels like a misstep:

“You let your baby cry too long last night.”

“You didn’t let her cry long enough to self-soothe.”

“You should have gotten up before the kids, to read the Bible and pray."

“You better not be falling back into legalism with your ‘quiet time.’”

“That’s the sugary food you’re packing for your kids’ lunches?”

“Wow, they’re going to be disappointed when they see these boring vegetables.”

All these thoughts are swirling before I’ve even made my coffee in the morning.

STICKS AND STONES

Then I remember these words: Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.

Long ago, a woman was caught in adultery and brought before a crowd for judgment. I can imagine those pointing fingers, condemning voices, shaking fists, and murderous eyes. She faced the possibility of a gruesome, excruciating death for her transgression.

Stoning.

Being hit so forcefully and repeatedly with rocks that you experience internal bleeding, organ failure, and death. A word so archaic today that we miss the weight of it.

Right on the heels of a man using her body for his own pleasure, she was now being used by the religious leaders of the day as they sought to trap Jesus. They saw him as a threat to be neutralized.

The Pharisees wielded power over the people, the malignant mass of their manipulation being fed by twisting God’s word and greasing the palms of the politically elite. This man, who claimed to be the Word made flesh, and his message of repentance and faith in the Kingdom of God burned their evil pride like heavenly radiation. But they had him now!

How would he respond? He must either betray the Mosaic law, given by the God from whom he claimed to descend, or depart from his ministry of healing and loving to engage in violence, which they could report back to the Roman rulers.

But instead, the soon-to-be-striped back they thought they’d pushed against the wall stooped to touch the very dirt he created before time began. He stood up and the tension was palpable, as everyone awaited his words.

Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.

Shaking Free From The 'Shoulds'

I wonder how long the silence hung there, as every mind within earshot tried to process the cosmic shift they had just witnessed. Did they realize that this man writing in the dirt, so clearly not interested in throwing stones, was the only sinless one among them?

I wonder what it felt like for the woman to watch her accusers, her abusers, walk away one by one. Death was no longer imminent, but I wonder how long she was able to savor that reprieve before the shame and the "Shoulds" swooped in. But her pardon was before her in bodily form.

What it must have felt like to look into Jesus’s eyes! Perhaps for the first time in her life, a man’s gaze rested on her, free of selfish motives and quick assessments of what she could offer him.

She was face to face with her Creator and the lover of her soul, the same man who would soon die to remove her shame forever and offer her his pure, white robes of righteousness.

“Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you,” he said.

“No one, Lord.”

“Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:3-11).

Oh, that we’d be taught what to do when the words come from within when we look down and see the stone in our own hand! That we’d be taught to repeat this refrain over and over again: There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death (Rom. 8:1-2).

The same freedom offered to that woman thousands of years ago is offered to us today!

If we believe by faith that Jesus was God made flesh and that he accomplished what the Bible said he did—lived sinless, died in our place, absorbed the full wrath of God toward sin, defeated death by resurrecting after three days, and ascended to the right hand of the Father, reigning today as our faithful advocate—then we are free!

LEAD ON, LORD JESUS

Free from condemnation, free from stones hurled from the mouth of the liar. Free to face the stones in our own hand and speak the gospel truth to ourselves.

I am not who you say I am. I am who Jesus says I am.

I do not have to please you. I was created by Jesus, to glorify him and enjoy him forever.

I do not have to fear your judgment. Jesus faced the only truly fearful judgment, that of the Holy Father, and he passed the test.

I do not have to perform to meet your arbitrary standards. I am judged by Christ’s perfect performance, and his righteousness covers me.

His Spirit, by his abundant grace, shifts my perspective and removes the fear from my heart, like stones dropping from open hands. Those “Shoulds” thoughts lose their power. Their shaking heads and rolling eyes fade completely out of sight, as Jesus extends his nail-scarred hand to me.

Why do I contort my life to please such horrible partners, when the light of the world offers to lead me in the greatest, most joyful dance imaginable?

By his grace alone I turn my back on all those "Shoulds" and take his hand.

Lead on, Lord Jesus.

Myra Dempsey and her husband, Andrew, live in Newark, Ohio, with their four children. Myra is a stay at home mom, loves to write, and ministers in their local church teaching women's Bible studies and leading groups on gospel-centered sexuality. She blogs at dependentongrace.com and can be found on Twitter @MyraJoy and Instagram @myrajoy1019.

Christy Britton 9/23/18 Christy Britton 9/23/18

The Big God Behind Your 'Small' Ministry

It was a big day in Jerusalem. The temple built by Solomon, but destroyed by the Babylonians, was being rebuilt. It was a day of great celebration for the Israelites. The Jews had suffered for decades because of their disobedience (see 1 Kings 9:6-9). They endured exile and captivity, besiegement and destruction. However, Ezra tells the story of a new day, when the people gathered together to celebrate the laying of the foundation on the second temple.

They celebrated the Lord’s mercy with trumpets and cymbals. They sang and thanked him. They shouted with great shouts to praise his name.

Though many shouted for joy, there were others who “wept with a loud voice” (Ezra 3:12). They wept because they were disappointed. These older saints wept because they remembered the former splendor of the first temple, and the meager foundation of the second was underwhelming.

WHEN YOUR DAYS SEEM SMALL

Haven’t we all been underwhelmed by the work of our own hands at some point? We have a vision of what our ministry or family or career should look like that is so much grander than the current view.

On this day when people were disappointed with the lack of splendor, the prophet, Zechariah said, “Whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice” (Zech. 4:10).

Most of us will spend our whole lives living in days of small things. How do we navigate this space between what we see and what we want to see? How can we cultivate hearts that don’t despise these days, but rejoice in them?

Consider the following ways to be encouraged when you’re unimpressed with what God has entrusted to you.

See the Tree In the Seed

We’re attracted to the spectacular. Our eyes are drawn to all things bigger, brighter, and better, so we limit our scope of success to these ideals.

When we do, we overlook the significance of small things. The thing is, small is valuable when God defines the terms.

When Jesus spoke to a crowd that needed food, he didn’t despise Andrew’s suggestion of a boy’s lunch of five loaves and two fish (John 6:9). He used something small to glorify himself in a big way.

God is not disappointed by small. He uses the small things to accomplish his purposes.

Do you feel what you have to work with is small? Listen to Jesus: “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches” (Matt. 13:31-32).

In God’s economy, the tiniest seed becomes a tree. The smallest of things becomes significant because of its role in the kingdom. The final product is not determined by its beginning.

Richard Sibbes writes in The Bruised Reed, “See a flame in a spark, a tree in a seed. See great things in little beginnings.” God’s grand plan for our redemption began with a fragile newborn in a manger.

Do we see great things in little beginnings?

Find the Glory in the Mundane

We have great expectations, especially when it comes to our place in the world. It’s no surprise, then, that changing diapers and mowing the lawn and paying the taxes all just seems so . . . boring.

But we must strive to see God’s work like he does. We must value what he values.

We want to be sensational; God wants us to be faithful. The desire to have maximum impact in our culture is not a bad one. But devaluing ministry that has a smaller reach contradicts God’s values.

Consider Eunice and Lois (2 Timothy 1:5), the mother and grandmother of Timothy, apprentice to Paul and early church leader. These two women are not known for wowing crowds and signing books. We know them because they poured into a young Timothy. By worldly standards, their ministry was small. But we have the benefit of seeing the great value of their investment in one person.

We value productivity but are often underwhelmed with progress; God values productivity and progress. God’s salvific work in our lives is a miracle, and we should praise him for it. God’s sanctifying work of transforming us into his perfect image happens by degrees (see 2 Cor. 3:18) but is no less miraculous. Sanctification is often small, mundane, and untweetable. Nevertheless, it is a miracle, and we should praise the Lord for it.

What about you? Are you disappointed at the footprint of your kingdom work? Are you envious of someone else who seems to have more influence than you do? Remember, any impact you have on the advancement of his kingdom is a work of grace. Praise him for his work in big and small things.

Trust God in the Tension

The celebrity culture we’ve created adds to the pressure not only to succeed, but to succeed publicly and grandly. We have no tolerance for the unimpressive. We’ve given others the power to validate our success, but that validation was never ours to give away.

In the tension between our vision and our reality, we must trust God to accomplish all that he desires for his glory. We trust him to make his name great in our smallness.

The gap between our vision and our reality is not to be despised. God doesn’t look at small things disapprovingly. On a day when the rich were making it rain in the temple offering box, a poor widow gave two copper coins. Jesus told his disciples that she gave more than all the rich people gave that day, because she gave all she had to live on (Luke 21:1-3).

What seems humbling, meager, and unimpressive to us may look glorious to God. Oh, to see what he sees! We can’t judge his work by our standards. When the people were unimpressed with the splendor of the temple, Haggai encouraged them by telling them to be strong and to work, for God was with them (Hag. 2:4).

Underwhelmed saint, heed Haggai’s words and keep striving in your kingdom labors, for God is with you. Desire to be faithful, not sensational.

WHEN GOD HAS HIS SAY

“Perhaps you are frustrated by the gap that still remains between your vision and your accomplishment,” Os Guinness writes in The Call. “You have had your say. Others may have had their say. But make no judgments and draw no conclusions until the scaffolding of history is stripped away and you see what it means for God to have had his say.”

God will have the final say. And it will sound like this: “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”

As we long for this day, let’s rejoice in the day of small things.

Christy Britton is a wife and homeschool mom of four biological sons. She is an orphan advocate for 127 Worldwide. She and her husband are covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, NC. She loves reading, discipleship, Cajun food, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for several blogs, including her own, www.beneedywell.com.

Delilah Pugsley 6/26/18 Delilah Pugsley 6/26/18

4 Ways to Foster Faithfulness in the Face of Futility

The mammoth ship started sinking into the bone-chilling North Atlantic waters. Distress rockets exploded into the sky. You could hear the pandemonium and sheer terror over the buckling, twisting steel. Amidst the chaos, eight musicians began playing a serene, unearthly melody; “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” as rumor has it. They kept playing when it was their turn to get into a lifeboat. They played faithfully until their untimely end, the sweet, soft sounds echoing off the unforgiving waters.

This April marked 106 years since the Titanic sank into the Atlantic, killing well over 1,000 passengers. Those musicians have mystified historians for the past century. What was going on in their minds? How could they keep playing in the face of certain death?

FAITHFULNESS IN THE FACE OF FUTILITY?

In the account of their last hours, we see a picture of faithfulness in the midst of seeming futility. So many times, we find ourselves in dim and seemingly hopeless situations. We might not aboard a ship sinking into frozen waters, but our hearts sink from the loss of a loved one, a battle with cancer, or feeling the weight of our bodies getting older and falling apart. We might not face certain death, but we have witnessed the death of our dreams; the death of what we thought our lives should look like.

Our day-to-day circumstances can feel like waves threatening to drown us in sorrow. The tempest tempts us to look away from our Savior and down into the swirling abyss. Too often we let circumstances take the rudder of our ship, steering us forward instead of into God’s promises.

We are so often faithless. But the good news is that God is faithful in the midst of our faithlessness (2 Tim. 2:13). God is committed to his people and his promises. But how can we be faithful to God in the midst of turmoil and trouble? How can we have an unwavering, unflinching trust in him? God’s Word gives us four ways.

1. ASK AND SEEK

First, the Bible tells us to ask and seek for faithfulness. The Greek word for faithfulness in the Bible literally means “being full of faith.” It means being reliable, steadfast, unwavering, not wishy-washy or fickle. God imparts this gift of faith through the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts and through the hearing of God’s Word. "So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (RoM. 10:17).

If we are to be completely dependent on God to open our eyes of faith, our prayer should be, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). We should spend time daily reading and preaching the gospel to ourselves because God works in hearts through his Word by the power of his Spirit. God’s Word is our light when we find ourselves in dark, distant waters. His Spirit will be our bravery when everything is falling apart.

2. REMEMBER AND REMIND

The second way the Bible tells us to foster faithfulness is simply by remembering. When we reflect on what God has done in our lives, we can say, "The Lord’s loving-kindnesses indeed never cease; for his compassions never fail; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness" (Lam. 3:22-23).

The tossing waves won’t be so threatening when we know our God is bigger than the oceans. Our circumstances will seem trivial in light of eternity. Let’s choose to remember how God has been faithful, and let those memories embolden us to keep playing a beautiful tune to the glory of God in the midst of trouble and travail.

Not only do we need to remind ourselves what God has done, but we need to remind others of his faithfulness. The Apostle Paul wrote, “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Heb. 3:12-13).

Telling others what God has done in our lives protects them from the enemy’s lies and from doubting God’s promises. We need to hear stories of God’s faithfulness daily, and so do our brothers and sisters. Like the eight musicians who played their way into their icy graves, we need others to stand with us, playing the song of God’s faithfulness into the long, cold night.

3. SURRENDER AND ABIDE

Third, the Bible tells us we can foster faithfulness by surrendering and abiding. The fruit of faithfulness is not the fruit of our works, but the result of the Spirit’s work in us. If you are in Christ, you are like clay in the potter’s hands. He is the one molding and shaping you in his image. “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10).

When we abide, or remain in unbroken relationship with God, seeking to know him, to be like him, and to surrender to his work in our lives, we will bear the fruit of faithfulness in due time. But we can only do this by God’s keeping power.

We can take comfort that God is steadfast in his commitment to sustaining us. The Lord “will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,” (1 Cor. 1:8-9).

4. REPENT AND OBEY

When the Titanic hit the gargantuan iceberg that doomed the “unsinkable ship,” most of the passengers were asleep because it was midnight. We too fall asleep. We get comfortable and lose the urgency in following Jesus. We give our allegiance to the idols of comfort, control, approval, or power.

Let’s heed this stark warning Jesus gave to the church in Sardis: “Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you” (Rev. 3:2-3).

Jesus’ words here are startling and might even seem harsh. But when he called his people to follow him, he told them to take up their cross—to die to themselves—daily. Let’s search our hearts and ask the Lord to show us the sins we cling to. If we find we have been faithless, let’s repent and turn back to following Christ with all our might in the power of the Holy Spirit.

We can know God’s grace is sufficient and his power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). We can be confident that “if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). Whichever comes first, Christ’s return or our last breath, let us be found faithful, by God’s grace and the Holy Spirit’s power. Let’s be on our guard, daily repenting from sin.

FINDING CALM AMONG THE STORM

As the Titanic disappeared into the dark waters, there was a faithfulness amidst the chaos and dread. Eight musicians played a lively tune as they met their earthly deaths.

In this world, we will have trials and tribulation but let’s be found living faithfully to the glory of God. May our lives be a startlingly beautiful, hopeful harmony resounding in the ears of the world around us.

When the storms of life come, let’s play our song all the louder, clinging to God’s promises. Let’s live lives that burn brighter by the day instead of sinking into the night. Let’s press forward by God’s grace power until we hear those sweet words from our Lord: “Well done, good, and faithful servant … enter into the joy of your master” (Matt. 25:21).

Delilah Pugsley is a wife, friend, sister, daughter and a Christ-follower serving in a church plant in Mid-Missouri. She writes on her blog https://www.graceinreallife.com, and you can reach her at delilahpugsley@gmail.com.

Jake Chambers 5/1/18 Jake Chambers 5/1/18

Spelunking Our Way to Salvation

My favorite Batman movie is The Dark Knight Rises. And not just because it has Christian Bale, and not Ben Affleck, playing Batman. I love this film because it resonates with my soul. Batman’s back is broken in a battle against the evil Bane, and the Dark Knight is left for dead in a dark, inescapable pit. Bruce Wayne, our strong hero, is broken, hopeless, confused, and trapped in a deep cave.

Caves are dark, musty, disorienting, and lonely. And sooner or later, we all end up in one.

Not literally, of course. But in the course of life, our souls stumble into caves of brokenness, pain, hurt, grieving, and suffering. We feel like David fleeing his family, friends, throne, land—everything—because his son Absalom betrayed him. This is the cave.

LIFE IN THE CAVE IMPACTS EVERYTHING

Loss brings us to the cave. Loss of friendship, loss of dreams, loss of family, loss of hope. Often, loss is accompanied by even more loss, as friends, fans, and supporters who were around distance themselves.

The cave feels like rock bottom. The damp, cold, walls are all you have to cling to.

Life in the cave impacts everything.

Your finances, marriage, and career can be great, but it doesn’t matter—you’re in the cave. What brought you here hurt so deeply that the pain bleeds into every part of life.

If part of you is in the cave, all of you is in the cave.

WHAT DARKNESS BRINGS TO LIGHT

In the cave we are stripped of every hope other than Jesus. Hobbies, entertainment, food, and iPhones—none of these can help. They can distract from the pain, but some caves are just too dark to find comfort in distractions.

In the cave our pride is crushed. We become more aware than ever that Jesus—only Jesus—will never leave or forsake us. We are stripped of all the idols that are so prevalent outside.

In the cave we find out how much we really love Jesus, and how much we really trust him.

Caves are lonely, but you’re never alone in the cave. We have a God who does some of his best work in the cave. This makes even the darkest of caves beautiful.

The God of the Bible is a good God. He uses our pain and suffering, our brokenness, to bring about something beautiful. He uses all things for the good for those who love him (Rom. 8:28). He woos us in the cave.

CAVES REVEAL US

Spelunking is the exploration of caves. Spelunkers grope around in the dark with headlamps lighting their way. They never know what they might find, but in the end, the adventure reveals something about themselves.

I wouldn’t wish time in the cave on anyone, yet I wouldn’t trade my time there for anything. I’ve been in it more than once, and I would rather not enter it again.

Yet I know I would not know Jesus the same way I do today without times in the cave. Just as a miner delves deeper into the mountain to uncover flecks of shimmering gold, there is beauty in the depths of our cave because God is committed to mining our hearts and revealing the stone encasing them.

Caves reveal our hearts, and they reveal our closest friends. Jonathans reveal themselves to Davids in the cave. No friend can live there with you. Only you and Jesus can dwell there, but true friends can and will visit you in the cave. They will enter your pain, listen, pray, comfort, point you to Jesus and help in any way they can. It is these friends that help you see the dim, distant light that is the way out. These friends are priceless. They have seen the way out, and even though they don’t dwell in the cave, they can offer tremendous hope.

Jesus uses friends and family to help us take our first wobbly steps out of the cave. He uses them as a due north, a compass in the midst of a confusing, lost and dark time. That doesn’t mean everyone who abandons you is not a true friend. Certainly, some are inch-deep friends, but many just do not have the courage, maturity or time to visit you in the cave.

Some are in a cave of their own, and some are in such a time of joyful frolicking outside they don’t even recognize others are in caves. Don’t hold on to bitterness. While it reveals your truest and deepest friends, the cave also grows our compassion for those in caves and those who have no idea what this pain is like. We bear with one another and we grow in learning how to share one another’s burdens.

PURIFIED FOR COMMUNITY

While the cave is a very lonely place, the Lord never intends to use it for isolation, but as a furnace to melt away the impurities of superficial, self-centered community, purifying us for community with him and a newfound compassion for others.

Time in the cave deepens our longing for authentic Jesus-centered community, marked by dependence, brokenness, vulnerability, confession, and love. He reveals true friends, but also makes us into true friends, the kinds of friends that would visit others in the cave.

Jesus and Peter are restored after Jesus enters his cave, but Judas and Jesus were not. Finding the way out doesn’t mean every relationship is restored, but that every person is forgiven and Jesus is fully trusted to be the just judge. Confess all that you can confess, own all that you can own, and leave God to judge the rest. This helps us get off the floor of the cave.

Look to Jesus. Trust Jesus. Some things will reveal themselves over time as you wait upon the Lord. Sometimes the Absaloms show themselves to be Absalom, and the Jonathans show themselves to be Jonathan. Other times we never know. Either way, trust in Jesus. He is trustworthy.

THE ULTIMATE CAVE IS EMPTY

How do we know he is worthy of our trust? Because he willingly entered into the ultimate cave in order to keep us out of an eternal one.

Jesus left a heavenly paradise willingly to enter a cave on Earth. He was respected, followed, sought after and had a ministry that impacted villages, cities, towns and drew audiences from royalty to peasants and the sick. He walked with close friends, had moments of validation and appreciation both from people and from the Father. He knew life on Earth outside the cave.

He also knew ministry in the caves. He was a man of sorrows. He wept. He knew betrayal, abuse, false accusations, and abandonment. He knew physical, spiritual and relational pain and torment.

On the cross, he took on the sins of the world. He took every man, woman and child’s personal cave, all the sin they committed to get there, and all the sin committed against them that sent them there.

Jesus entered a very real cave. He was beaten, mocked, abused, abandoned and buried in a dark, cold, musty cave and left breathless, lifeless, dead. The king of heaven was crucified on a cross and buried in a cave. He didn’t have to do this. But he chose to out of love for us!

The Dark Knight Rises ends with Batman learning from his past and coming out of the cave stronger than ever. He defeats Bane, saves Gotham, and marries Catwoman.

Jesus is better. He defeated the ultimate cave. The stone was rolled away, the cave is empty, and Jesus is alive!

Jesus heals, restores, saves and resurrects. We have hope new life will come bursting forth from our deep, dark caves because Jesus Christ burst forth from his.

We get to ask for help, prayer, and friendship and be honest about our condition. And even in the darkest cave, we can have hope, knowing no cave is permanent for those who have trusted in Jesus.

And one day he will make all things new, even us. He will shine brighter than the sun, wipe away every tear, and turn every dark cave into a life-giving meadow! All creation will join together in worshipping and praising our King Jesus! And we will frolic for all of eternity, together in community, with him.

In the meantime, let us fix our eyes on Jesus, in both the meadows and the caves. Let us rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn. Living like a true friend to those around us who are in the meadow or in the cave, always pointing to the one who truly will never leave them or forsake them, always pointing to Jesus!

Jake Chambers is the husband to his beautiful bride Lindsey, and a daddy to Ezra, Roseanna, Jaya and Gwen. Jake is passionate about Jesus and helping others meet and follow Jesus. He helped plant Red Door Church in San Diego and enjoys serving the local and global church through preaching, teaching, listening and praying.

Elliot Toman 4/10/18 Elliot Toman 4/10/18

Mourning Our Way to Joy

When I resigned from the church I worked at for fifteen years, I transitioned into the world of business. There were consequences I didn’t see coming. God opened a role as an associate at an eCommerce company. Over the course of the first year, I realized that my projects were bringing me into an ethical arena I was unprepared for. It became clear that I could only continue earning a steady paycheck if I was willing to work in shades of gray I previously would have rejected. I chose to compromise.

This plunge into the world of commerce changed my perspective on Christian morality. I developed strong opinions on subjects about which I had previously been ambivalent. For example, while working on an online store selling tattoo and piercing supplies, I got a glimpse into the body modification community and saw a deep darkness in it; a desire for mutual acceptance predicated on pain and exhibition. I came to see commercialism and consumerism as powers and principalities—forces that enslave people while making them feel as if they are in control; things that pretend to be God but aren’t. Idols that, by action or inaction, I was helping to build.

I began to mourn. I mourned the loss of my ministry position and its relative simplicity. I mourned the state of the world and the lostness of the people I share it with. I mourned my own weakness and willingness to compromise when my livelihood is on the line.

BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO MOURN

Scripture has much to say about mourning. Some books of the Bible are dedicated to it. Jesus addresses mourning in one of his Beatitude declarations at the very beginning of his revolutionary Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matt. 5:4)”

Jesus doesn’t specify why a person is mourning, or when they can expect to be comforted. He simply promises that they will be. What are we to make of this?

Mourning is the second of eight Beatitudes, and therefore can be seen as the second step into the reality of what Jesus calls the kingdom of heaven. If we view these steps progressively, one following the other, then we can suppose that poverty of spirit, the first step (Matt. 5:3), is the key that opens the gate, and mourning is what carries us over the threshold.

As with each Beatitude, this assertion is surprising and counterintuitive. In the previous verse, Jesus claims that poverty is desirable because it opens the kingdom to us. Now he assures us that a state of mourning is positive because the comfort of the kingdom will be found on the other side. What is Jesus getting at?

HOW DID JESUS MOURN?

For any principle Jesus upholds, we can safely assume he is the best possible example of it. Jesus chose to lay down his glory and come to us as a human (Phil. 2:8)—and his response was to mourn.

In the gospel accounts, we find him looking with compassion on crowds of people because they are “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matt. 9:6). He grieves over the stubbornness of Jerusalem (Matt. 23:27), despairs over the hypocrisy of the religious teachers (Matt. 23:16), and weeps over the body of a dead friend (John 11:35). While Jesus certainly wasn’t joyless, he did not see the purpose of his time on earth to be pleasure or comfort. He was acutely aware of the misery surrounding him in the form of sickness, spiritual oppression, and injustice.

He was also aware of the suffering that awaited him in his own torture and murder. So, he said, “Blessed are you who weep now . . . but woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep” (Luke 6:21, 25). This reinforces a strong Biblical theme: that mourning is better than laughter, and to pursue comfort and pleasure in this world is to forego it in the next.

We see in his example three compelling reasons to adopt an attitude of mourning.

REASONS TO MOURN

First, we mourn for what we leave behind as followers of Christ. When anything that was once precious to us is left behind, we must undergo a process of grieving in order to face a world in which that thing is no longer part of our lives. This could mean sin, or it could simply mean things that distract us from our missional purpose as Christians. Jesus recognized that over-attachment to his family would distract him from his mission (Luke 8:21). Once, when a man expressed a desire to follow Jesus, the Lord replied, “Birds have nests and foxes have holes, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” In other words, the crucified life cost Jesus—and it will cost us, too. Grieving in this sense means to fully accept that there are things we once cherished that can no longer be with us.

Second, we mourn for our own sin. Jesus did not have sins to mourn, but he certainly grieved over the sins of others. My proclivity to sin is the single greatest barrier between myself and Jesus. It hinders my prayers, poisons my relationships, and hampers my willingness to come boldly before the throne of God. We cannot enter the kingdom of heaven if we have a comfortable relationship with sin. As soon as a sin is revealed in my life, I must be willing to leave it behind—to mourn its passing and let it go, knowing that I’m pressing on towards something much more satisfying. “Men loved the darkness instead of the light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). We sin because we love it. And like anything we love, letting go of it will grieve us.

Finally, once we’ve learned to grieve over our own sin, we find Jesus’ heart in mourning for sin and death in the world. No longer taking delight (openly or secretly) in the shame, futility, and ignorance that defines life under the sun, we become more and more preoccupied with helping those around us recognize the true and eternal hope of life in the Son. Deeply aware of our own brokenness, we do not approach the world as a judge pronouncing a verdict, but rather as a nurse serving under the Great Physician (John 3:17, Mark 2:17).

MOURNING OUR WAY TO JOY

Christ-centered mourning does not manifest in depression; it does not lead us to a joyless, judgmental life. Instead, it leads us to focus on what’s truly important. The joy of the world comes from deceit and distraction as we try to ignore, delay, or minimize the coming of death. The joy of the Lord is grounded in truth and reality—that Jesus has passed through death and into life, and that his hand is extended to each of us to do the same.

Death is real; pain is real; suffering is real. But God is more real. And so we mourn confidently, knowing that our mourning will one day give way to joy.

Elliot Toman lives with his wife and four children in Kingston, New York, where he is an aspiring church planter. He spends his spare time studying the Bible, publishing comics and occasionally writing about the church and Christian life.

Mike Phay 3/4/18 Mike Phay 3/4/18

Two Roads Diverged in a Garden

My heels backed up to the edge of a twenty-five feet high wooden platform just large enough to accommodate two people. My shirt was drenched with sweat. My muscles shook from adrenaline and fatigue, the effects of several ropes-course obstacles. We were attached to a tall, pencil-like tree swaying in the breeze. Jeff, the course facilitator, tethered me into the final element of the course—the zip line. He challenged me to not simply ride the zip line to safety, but to face my fear of losing control by crossing my arms over my chest and falling backward. The tether would catch me and the zip line would take care of the rest. This “trust fall” would only work if I resisted the instinct to grab the tether.

I wasn’t interested in Jeff’s challenge.

Without hesitation, I looked Jeff in the eyes, said, “No thanks,” grabbed the tether, and eased my weight onto the zip line for a controlled ride to the ground.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you trust God?”

Jeff’s question came as a shock—a blatant undressing of my vulnerability and weakness. My fear of heights was obvious, laying bare my desire for control. I had a choice: to close my fist and grab the tether, or open my hand and trust.

My preference for control won, and I zipped away, grasping the tether—and my sense of control.

TWO WILLS DIVERGED IN A GARDEN

Humanity’s first battle for control took place in a garden, provoked by the ancient serpent’s deceitful words: “God knows that when you eat of [the tree of the knowledge of good and evil] your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen. 3:5).

Until this point in time, human will had been aligned to the divine will in a relationship of trust and obedience. Now Eve stood on the precipice of a new possibility—an alternative path where she was in control. Would she choose trust or control, an open hand or a closed fist?

Eve saw the fruit of the forbidden tree as desirable “to make one wise” (Gen. 3:6), and she took some of its fruit and ate, sharing it with Adam, her husband. Eve and Adam chose the closed fist of control.

This act of disobedience resulted in the divergence of human and divine wills, changing the course of history. Our battle for control had begun.

THE ILLUSION OF CONTROL

The “opening of their eyes” to a world of wisdom awakened Adam and Eve to their nakedness and vulnerability. They quickly fashioned coverings for themselves. A relationship with God, once marked by trust and obedience, was instantly undermined. All for the sake of control.

Like our first parents, we are experts at constructing coverings to hide our vulnerability. Setting out to deceive others, we unintentionally deceive ourselves with our homemade fig leaves. We take comfort in this deception since it helps us feel in control, but in the end, it’s only an illusion.

As descendants of the Fall, we fabricate worlds of control, attempting to keep life’s struggles—suffering, sickness, loss, tragedy, grief—at arm's length. But sickness and death don’t make appointments. Loss and tragedy don’t submit to our parameters. Whenever the unexpected comes crashing into our lives, we can hardly handle it. We become confused and shell-shocked, angry and bitter like our lives are out of control.

NOT WHAT I WILL, BUT WHAT YOU WILL

This great battle of control we find ourselves in came to a head in another garden:

“And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And [Jesus] said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray,’ And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, ‘My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.’ And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said, ‘Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.’” – Mark 14:32-36

Jesus, like Eve, had a choice before him. Not a fruit, but a cup—the cup of God’s wrath. Before Jesus drank from it, he held it in his hands, considering an alternative path. He wrestled with his Father, struggling to the point of blood and tears (see Luke 22:44), saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me” (Luke 22:42).

Human and divine wills tragically diverged in the first garden. But the result would not be the same here. The open-handed will of the Son—not grasping for control (Phil. 2:6), ever obedient to his Father (John 5:19)—changed the course of history when he said, “Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

Jesus’ words of submission are not a request, but a statement of fact. They are the clear-eyed recognition of the indomitable supremacy of the Father’s will over man-made illusions. Jesus considered every alternate reality and possible future in which human wills could supersede the divine will—and rejected them outright, even though it meant drinking the cup of wrath.

LOSING CONTROL IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO GROW

Our lives of comfort and safety are nothing but smoke and mirrors. We are actually closest to reality when we lose control. Losing control removes the veil from our eyes, clearing the illusion so we see our situation for what it is.

On that high ropes course, I took comfort in every bit of control I could find. The experience helped me recognize my unrelenting desire for control, my delusion that I could be like God. But there is only one God, and he is in control. And my will can only be aligned with his when I trust him.

Our greatest opportunities for growth come in the most difficult circumstances. By removing our sense of control—even if just for a moment—God grants us a chance to recognize our illusions of control. These moments are opportunities to open our clenched fists in trust and submission.

When we lay down control, we let go of something that never belonged to us anyway.

Mike Phay serves as Lead Pastor at FBC Prineville (Oregon) and as a Staff Writer at Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He has been married to Keri for over 20 years, and they have five amazing kids.

Cody Cunningham 2/20/18 Cody Cunningham 2/20/18

God Loves Me—Right?

The worship band starts up and you sing lyrics you’ve heard a hundred times before: “How deep the Father’s love for us, how vast beyond all measure, that he should give his only Son, To make a wretch his treasure.” But the words catch in your throat.

You don’t feel like a treasure. In fact, you haven’t felt God’s love at all lately.

IS GOD’S LOVE EQUAL?

You would never say God doesn’t love you, but you’re not sure he loves you as much as someone like Charles Spurgeon, William Carey, or even the people up front leading the music. They've served God in obvious ways, so God is probably more accepting of them, right?

Maybe you’re tempted to believe there are two levels of God’s love. First, the love that exists between Father, Son, and Spirit. This love is eternal and perfect, the fullness of what our earthly love points to. This is the deluxe package of God’s love. Second is God's love for us. You know, the basic package.

We feel like there’s a difference between God's love for his Son and his adopted children like some wrongly believe that parents have a greater love for their biological children than their adopted ones. But Jesus speaks a better word to us.

God doesn’t just love you as much as any other brother or sister—he loves you as much as he loves his Son.

JESUS’ COMFORTING SPIRIT

Jesus describes the Father’s love for him—and for us—in John 14. Sensing the disciples' uneasiness as he discusses his return to the Father, the Savior comforts his followers with a promise: "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you" (John 14:18).

How will Jesus come to them while he’s in heaven? Through his Spirit. The sending of the Spirit unites believers to Jesus. That Spirit signals to the disciples, and to us, that we’re not alone: "In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you" (John 14:20).

Jesus’ ascension and the giving of his Spirit are testimonies that God has not left us alone. Our triune God has broken into this sin-wrecked world in order to reclaim his people.

Jesus did not merely accomplish his earthly work and then tell the disciples, "Y'all stay strong. I'll see you when you die or when I return." The Father sent the Spirit to unite us to Jesus, to conform us to the image of Jesus, and to hold us firmly to the hope that is in Jesus.

If you possess the Spirit of Jesus, then you possess the unadulterated, unfiltered love of God.

HOLY AND BLAMELESS

God does not begrudgingly forgive you. He won’t stand with arms crossed at the gates of the new heavens and new earth with a frown as you sulk by. Those three words—"you in me"—are a glorious promise that what is true of Jesus is true of us. Our sin has been taken away and when God looks at you, he sees Jesus, who is "holy and blameless" (Eph. 1:4).

At the beginning of John 14, Jesus assures his followers:

Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also (John 14:1-3).

Did you catch that? The disciples are anxious about Jesus’ departure and fear what’s next. He comforts them by assuring them they will dwell in the Father’s house. Not in some rickety shack out back; no cupboard beneath the staircase. We are promised a room of our own in our Father’s house with our brother Jesus.

SONS AND DAUGHTERS

When we come before the Father, we do not come as mere servants of his Son; we come as sons and daughters ourselves, not because we are by nature sons and daughters, but because we have been wrapped in Jesus’ sonship.

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God (Gal. 4:4-7).

What does this mean for our fellowship with God? It means you don't get the scraps of God's love. You get the prime cut. When you’re brought into union with Jesus, you are united in love with the eternal fellowship of Father, Son, and Spirit.

Sure, we’re still sinful people, and there will be a day when we experience that fellowship to a greater degree. But you can rest today in the promise that you share in this triune fellowship.

This is why Christians are called to live a life of holiness. Those who have tasted from the pure waters of triune fellowship are foolish to return to the stale, festering waters of sinful desires.

“You shall be holy, for I am holy,” is not a burden to shoulder, but a result that flows from being caught up in the divine love of Father, Son, and Spirit. But we’re prone to forget the beauty of heavenly love, choosing instead to chase pale imitations of it through relationships, possessions, and experiences that only bring disappointment and despair.

REMIND YOURSELF OF GOD’S LOVE

If you long for God’s love, remind yourself:

Christ himself mediates every prayer you utter (Rom. 8:34).
God is not an absentee Father; he has made himself known through his Word.
Your church is a proclamation of God’s love represented as a family comprised of brothers and sisters from every nation, tongue, and tribe, all equipped with spiritual gifts.
God demonstrates his faithfulness through every sunset, sunrise, and rainbow. It is the daily soundtrack that God “called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9).

If Satan throws the fiery darts of shame and guilt at you, don’t despair. There’s an empty tomb that speaks a better word than your guilt. It speaks of redemption and grace. It speaks of forgiveness. It speaks of love.

As Psalm 136:26 says, “Give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever.”

Cody Cunningham is one of the pastors of Immanuel Community Church in New Orleans, Louisiana. He also is on staff with Reaching and Teaching International Ministries, an organization that provides theological education for pastors overseas. In addition, Cody is a husband, dad, avid reader, and coffee lover. You can read his other writings at codycunningham.com.

James Williams 12/19/17 James Williams 12/19/17

Do You Love Your Friends Enough to Hurt Them?

Most of us know the popular slogan "Friends don't let friends drive drunk." It's a simple phrase that's been around since the early 80s.

With just a few words, the phrase carries much meaning. The subject, "friends," shows that we’re talking about people who care. What do these friends do? They don't let their friends drive drunk. Why would they step in to stop this behavior? Is it because they're hateful and arrogant? Is it because they're judgmental people who need to mind their own business? Are they controlling people who want everyone to act like them? No.

True friends stop their friends because driving drunk can be destructive and life-ending. A friend who truly cares will do what they can to stop this from happening.

When we think of using our words in our friendships with believers, we often think of Ephesians 4:29: "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear." What are words that build up? Does that mean we only speak "positive" words? Does that mean we only say things that will be well received and make the person feel good?

Tucked away in the midst of many wise sayings, Proverbs 27:5-6 gives us some insight: "Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy."

OPEN REBUKE IS BETTER THAN HIDDEN LOVE

In our culture, someone who speaks against a person's behavior is seen as hateful, while the one who keeps his words to himself is praised as a loving person. Unfortunately, this understanding has crept into the church as well. Our individualism has set up walls that even our Christian friends dare not cross.

Asking someone how their job is going is acceptable, even praiseworthy. But asking someone about a sin in their life is considered "crossing the line," and the solution is to "mind your own business."

God's Word teaches that open rebuke is better than hidden love, though. James 5:29 states, "Let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins." We are told in the first verse of Galatians 6: "Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness."

Admonishing others is difficult, and we can easily talk ourselves out of doing it. We tell ourselves that it won't work or that what they are doing is "not that bad." At times, we're guilty of underestimating the destructive power of sin.

The Destructiveness of Sin

Sin is a destructive cancer. It kills and destroys. It takes good relationships and tears them apart. It takes peaceful situations and makes them divisive and chaotic. It takes individuals made in the image of God and leads them down a path of everlasting destruction.

If we don't understand the destructiveness of sin, we'll never see the need to lovingly rebuke our friends. If we think they are just "choosing a different path," we might keep quiet, but if we see they are on a path to destruction, perhaps that will motivate us to speak up. Someone who doesn't believe drunk driving is that dangerous might let their friend do it, but someone who recognizes the danger will try to stop them at all costs.

As believers, if we don’t see the destructive nature of sin, we might not speak words of truth our friend needs to hear.

Faithful are the Wounds of a Friend

Nobody likes to be called out. It doesn't feel good; it wounds. Scripture doesn't shy away from this reality or try to sugar-coat it. This is why many interpret correction as harmful or hateful. But, if done in love with the goal of repentance and healing, it can be a most loving act. Wounds from a friend can be trusted.

Proverbs warns us against rebuking everybody (Prov. 9:8), but true friends are a means of grace the Lord uses to bless, encourage, and even rebuke us. True friends are those who are willing to wound us in order to help us see our sin and point us to Christ.

I’ll never forget receiving a call from a church member who was broken-hearted after finding out his wife was having an affair. As a twenty-two-year-old pastor, I had no prior experience handling such a situation. It would have been much easier to step back and do nothing. However, by the Lord’s grace, that’s not what happened. We set up a meeting with the wife, told her we loved her, and reminded her of the mercy and grace of the gospel of Christ. Though she already knew, we told her that she was in sin and needed to confess and repent before the Lord.

These types of meeting don’t always go well, but in this case, the Spirit worked powerfully. She was convicted of her sin and immediately took the proper steps toward repentance with many sisters in Christ at her side, and her marriage was restored!

I’ve also been on the receiving end of such rebuke. While blinded to my own sin, I’ve had brothers in Christ hold me accountable and love me enough to confront me. While I didn’t like it at the time, I look back and am grateful to God for their boldness and love toward me.

True Friends Love Enough to Wound

Since most of us don't like confrontation, having to speak out at the risk of being rejected or losing a friend makes it even more horrifying. So, what would possess us to do something we hate when there's so much to lose?

Love.

If my friend is in sin, and I truly believe that their sin is destroying them, stealing their joy, and robbing God of his glory, then I am willing to face my fears of rejection and awkward conversation to address this issue.

To lay down our preferences for the good of others is love . . . and only those who are truly our friends are willing to do it.

If we are going to have a culture of speaking truth to one another in this way, then we must be willing and ready to receive it. Since we're all sinners, there will come a time where we are the ones in sin. If our friends confront us, it will hurt, but we must be willing to trust the wounding of our friends. We may not agree or understand at first, but we must fight to be receptive and willing to learn. Being defensive and attacking does not encourage a culture of openness with our friends.

PROFUSE ARE THE KISSES OF AN ENEMY

True friends love us enough to wound us, but what do our enemies do? They flatter us.

They tell us what we want to hear and make us feel good about it. They aren't concerned about our good and they will only speak with their best interests in mind. They know well the old adage “flattery will get you everywhere,” and they use it to their advantage. In the Old Testament, we read about false prophets who told the king the message he wanted to hear (2 Chron. 18:4-7). The New Testament also warns us to beware such people: “For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naïve” (Rom.16:18).

It's easy to understand how we can get confused as to who our true friends are. It's counterintuitive to say the one who wounds might be the true friend while the one who flatters could be the enemy.

THE GREATEST FRIEND

Friendships are a gift from the Lord and a means of grace, but there is one friend who truly sticks closer than a brother. Jesus, the lover of our soul, knows exactly what we need. He willingly laid down his life for our sin, thus showing there’s nothing he won’t spare for his children. He's able to provide encouragement at just the right time, and he loves us enough to wound us when we need to be rebuked. We know that the Lord disciplines those whom he loves (Heb. 12), and this is done out of care and concern for our soul to train us in righteousness, thus, we can trust him.

Sometimes, he might provide a needed correction through the words of a faithful friend who's willing to speak the truth. Other times, he might be doing that very thing through us in the life of someone else.

Are we willing to be used by the Lord this way? We speak often of encouraging one another, but are we just as willing to be used when "building up" our brother or sister means giving a loving rebuke?

For the good of our friends and the glory of God, let us be willing to encourage and admonish one another with our words. As one commentator has said, "Flattery kisses and slays; friendship wounds and saves."

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another” (Prov. 27:17).

James Williams has served as an Associate Pastor at FBC Atlanta, TX for four years. He is married to Jenny and they currently have four children in their home (three biological, one in foster care). He is in the dissertation stage of a PhD in Systematic Theology. You can follow James on Twitter or his church’s blog where he writes regularly.

Myra Dempsey 4/12/16 Myra Dempsey 4/12/16

The Antithesis of Anxiety

We sold our home today. We signed the papers, handed over the keys, and completed the seven month process which felt all-consuming. Each stage seemed overwhelming—from the painting and redecorating at the beginning, to the actual packing/loading/moving/unpacking at the end (and all the “Hurry up and hide the toys, we have a showing!” in between). But dependence grows beautifully in the soil of overwhelmed.

During moments on this journey, fatigue and stress felt more real than anything else. Too many mornings immediately ushered in our mental to-do list. I hated the gnawing, low rumblings of anxiety just as much as I hated the snapping tone I heard come from my lips. At times the weight of all I felt responsible to accomplish was crushing.

“Do not be anxious about anything …”

I believed a lie. The circumstances were difficult, yes, but they were not what made my chest tight and my heart heavy. What did was believing the lie that I was responsible to affect change, to make sure that things went as planned, and to hold it all together. In the moments when I took my eyes off of Jesus and only noticed the waves, I was believing that I needed to make the water still again. It was pure, modern-day, totally-understandable-in-the-eyes-of-our-culture idolatry. Deep in my heart I was not trusting God really was who he says he is or that he would really do what he has promised.And in response to this blatant treason, my Savior King never left me. He never pointed a condemning finger or cast me away for my sin. The Spirit convicted and lovingly drew me back.

“…but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”

Apart from God’s grace I would not desire to pray, nor have the ability to access the blessings which prayer was designed to give. In my own strength, even on my most disciplined day, I could not drum up the righteousness to grant me access to the Holy, All-Powerful, Righteous Creator of the universe! He alone, out of the overflow of his own goodness and love, pursued me and granted me that access by the shed blood of his perfect Son, Jesus. He is very well acquainted with my broken condition and knows every moment of idolatry—past, present, and future. Yet He bids me, “Come.” He tells me to bring my anxiety and fear to him, as minuscule as they are in comparison to his greatness. And this Omnipotent God, who holds the stars and planets in place, bends to minister to me, a housewife in Ohio, who is disobeying him and robbing him of the glory he’s due. He draws me into his presence.

As I lie on my cluttered bed, tears flowing along with repentance, the Holy Spirit does what only he can. He exposes the lies, interposes the Truth, washes, comforts, and redeems. His commands are always for our joy, so when we’re told to be thankful instead of anxious, it is not another item to add to our to-do list. Rather, the Lord knows that anxiety cannot remain when we remember the greatest reason of all to be thankful: We get him! When we are in Christ Jesus, the reality of our right-standing before God, our temporary time here on earth, and our future, eternal home with him is the truest reality. The tasks don't disappear, but instead of believing that the outcome is dependent on my own works, I trust and rest in God. Resting in God’s economy is not the absence of our work, it is a heart-state that recognizes his ultimate authority and our position before him.

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Peace.

The perfect antithesis of anxiety. Just as my idolatry-produced-anxiety robs God of glory in my life, his perfect peace graciously given frees me to rightly enjoy him, thereby more rightly reflecting him to others. John Piper’s assertion that “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him” is confirmed right in the midst of a partially-packed box and piles of laundry. I talk to my kids more like Jesus when I am filled with his peace. I work on the to-do list with joy and grace when I remember that God is ruling and reigning and that he loves me. When my heart and mind are guarded against anxiety in Christ Jesus, I am freed to rest in the truth that he not only saves me, but he also keeps me, all for the praise of his glorious grace!

—

Myra Dempsey lives in the Columbus, Ohio area with her husband, Andrew, and their 3 children, Eli (5), Esther (3) and Gideon (1). Myra works part-time as a Licensed Professional Counselor and School Psychology Assistant. She blogs at dependentongrace.com, contributes to the blog for her home church, at vineyardgrace.org, and has been blessed to be the keynote speaker at the iAm conference in Powell, Ohio, an event for teen girls. She loves reading, writing, and talking about God’s glorious grace!

Jessalyn Hutto 1/20/15 Jessalyn Hutto 1/20/15

The Lord of the Sparrows

“All the way my Savior leads me; What have I to ask beside?Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who thro’ life has been my Guide? Heavenly peace, divinest comfort, Here by faith in Him to dwell! For I know, what’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well; For I know, what’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well.”

—Fanny J. Crosby

Two Hard Truths

There are two kinds of God's sovereignty that are difficult for our human minds to grasp. The first is his sovereignty over the big, terrible events of our lives. This is because we cannot understand how a good and loving God could possibly be orchestrating the devastating, debilitating, and often deadly circumstances that we find ourselves subject to as humans living in this sin-infested world.

Indeed, we are often met with a crisis of faith when a spouse leaves us, when a pregnancy ends in miscarriage, or when we get the awful news that we are dying from cancer. In these times we are forced to decide whether we truly believe in the God of the Bible—a God who is incomprehensibly sovereign over evil events and at the same time good in all he does—or whether we will invent a more palatable god of our own design. When catastrophic events happen in our lives we must trust—with God-given faith—his revealed Word when it says that he "works all things for the good of those who love him."

The second category of God's sovereignty we have difficulty accepting—that I see my own heart struggling to believe—is his control over the minute, the tiny details of our lives. This, perhaps, is an even greater struggle than the first because it confronts us every moment of our lives. It is the unbelief that continually fails to recognize God's continual, purposeful interaction with the moments that make up our days.

It is seen in the fiery anger that burns within in our chests when we are delayed at a stop light. For we fail to recognize that it is God himself who controls all things and who has chosen to delay us for his own purposes. We fail to believe that it is for our good.

It is seen in the frustration that festers in the heart of a teacher when her student struggles to understand the concept of blending consonant sounds as he struggles to read. She forgets that it is God who controls her student's faculties, that his struggle is part of our loving Lord's plan for both him and her. She forgets to trust that such a challenge is for their good.

It is seen in the exasperation of the homemaker whose war against the never ending piles of laundry tempts her to resent the precious souls who add to it every day. She does not believe that God himself has given her this task, that he is blessing others through it, that he could use such a mundane chore to sanctify her. She does not believe that its is for their good.

The Lord of the Little Things

Yes, it is seen every moment of every day when we fail to acknowledge him as Lord over the little things.

"Are not to sparrows sold for a penny?" Jesus said to his disciples, "And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father."

Oh soul, remember that it is he, the Creator of heaven and earth, who controls the birds of the air. Is he not also in control of your crying baby, your complaining child, your car that won't start? "Even the hairs on your head are all numbered by him," our Lord Jesus says. Does he not then also control the blemishes that plague your skin? How different our attitudes would be if we met every frustration, every annoyance, and every difficulty that comes our way with the knowledge of our loving God's sovereignty.

For we do not view the events of our lives through rose-colored glasses, but rather through blood-drenched ones.

If we could but remember the price he paid to save us, would we not view the inconveniences of life with greater appreciation? Would they not drive us to the throne of grace rather than our keyboards where we share quick, relieving complaints disguised as Facebook statuses? Would we not find ourselves beseeching the Lord for wisdom every moment of every day, as James tells us to? For it is he who "gives generously to all without reproach!" Soul, make use of his generosity, for your need is great!

And how differently our days would transpire if we could see his sovereignty in the small blessings he lavishes upon us. For indeed, so great is our sinfulness, that we don't even find it easy to recognize the constant good that flows from his wounds to his beloved bride.

Prayer and Praise

We take for granted every breath that enters our lungs, every smile we receive from our children, every kiss we enjoy from our husbands, every hug we get from a good friend. We enter into soft, comfortable beds each night relieved that the day is over, forgetting to thank him for the many blessings we've received—not the least of which being the soft, comfortable bed we lay on!

Would our countenance not be characterized by peaceful joy rather than frenzied exhaustion if we could but keep the cross ever before us, seeing all the good things that come our way as loving gifts from a bridegroom to his purchased bride? Would our lips not be filled with his praises? Would our love for him not spill out upon all who are in our presence?

Perhaps this awareness of God residing over the little events of our lives would yield an attitude of ceaseless prayer and praise. Maybe we would come closer to obeying Paul's command to the Thessalonians to "rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." (1 Thess. 5:16-18)

Can we live as those aware of the Savior's leading? Can we trust him with the little things, whether they be good or bad? Lord give us the grace to live in this blessed awareness, for we long to see you.

—

Jessalyn Hutto (@JessalynHutto) is the wife of a church planter, a mother to four, and a very part-time writer. Most of all she is a ransomed sinner, living in the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ. You can learn more about her at JessalynHutto.com.

Originally published at JessalynHutto.com. Used with permission.

Jeremy Writebol 11/25/13 Jeremy Writebol 11/25/13

5 Boldness-Increasing Questions

I don't know anyone who sees evangelism as an easy task. For most of us, the work of declaring the gospel to our lost friends, family, neighbors, and co-workers makes us quake in our boots. If you and I are anything alike, we would have to confess that sharing the good news of Jesus makes us timid.

Maybe it’s justifiable, in a sense, given the political and moral climate of our world today. It seems that the only thing our world can be absolutely positive about is that there are positively no absolutes. Anyone who expresses a dogmatic claim to "big-T" truth is an arrogant intellectual Neanderthal of a bygone era. Expressing that a differing position, especially on religious matters, could be wrong and even subject to eternal judgment is the social faux pas of our day. It's no wonder we can be timid about sharing our faith.

Increased Boldness

I struggle with my own fearfulness about sharing the gospel along like anyone else. Yet recently, the Lord has not only placed opportunities but encouragement in front of me to be about declaring his love in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus to those who don't believe. The encouragement has come through his Word, specifically Acts 4.

The passage is filled with the tension of a secular, religiously liberal leadership struggling with the exclusive claims of uneducated, common men declaring Jesus as Lord. A healed cripple stands before the midst of the forum on religious tolerance as evidence for the minority opinion. And like a blast of cold water to my face, I'm confronted with questions that give me an adrenaline shot of confidence.

Layered beneath an arrest, trial, confession, and regrouping phase are five questions for us to ask ourselves. If we answer them correctly the measure of our boldness to proclaim the gospel will only grow.

1. Will God Save?

As Peter and John declared that the resurrection of Jesus was the power source behind healing the cripple, the assault mounted. If there was ever a time to back down and disperse quietly into the streets of Jerusalem, now was the time. And yet they stayed, preached Jesus, and ended up in a holding cell for the evening. By modern standards, their work was a failure. Now they have been identified and are in the beginning phases of a lifetime of persecution. But Acts 4:4 tells us something amazing occurred in the midst of their suffering and teaching: people came to Christ. People were saved. As the gospel was under attack, it was also advancing and moving forward.

How does asking this question increase our confidence and boldness in witness? It reminds us of what and who we are not. We are not God. We can't save anyone. No matter how clear our presentation of the gospel, no matter how effective our technique or delivery of that message, we can't take the heart of a spiritually dead person and bring it back to life. Only God can do that. And God does that through the declaration of his good news of Jesus. God is the one who saves. Not us. And so boldness grows because we know the one who brings salvation.

But not only is he one who brings salvation, he is the one who promises to bring salvation. His word tells us that "faith comes by hearing and hearing through the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17). People will come to faith in Jesus by our declaring the good news of Jesus, even in the face of opposition and suffering. We can be bold because God has promised to save sinners and he actually does so!

Is God able to save my lost neighbor through my imperfect, inadequate, inarticulate sharing of the good news of Jesus? Yes, yes he is. So I can be supremely confident that God will do what he has promised. Will God save? Yes he will. Yes he does.

2. Has God Spoken?

The second question is a further injection of boldness into my spiritually-timid heart. A major source of fear in sharing the gospel is the fear of speech. Folks will often say, "I just don't know what to say to them." There is a fear of saying the right things (or even the wrong things), and that the message of the gospel won't be clear and straight and helpful.

As Peter and John were dragged before the Sanhedrin to testify, they were at a clear disadvantage. These two poorly educated, common, blue-collar fishermen were standing before the educated, intellectual, political influencers of their day. If they were ever going to feel over their heads, this would be that time. And yet God's promises were evident and real within them. Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, opened his mouth and boldly, clearly declared the gospel. Making one of the most exclusive statements about the authority and centrality of Christ in all of the Bible, Peter told the religious pluralist of his day that there is salvation found in no one else except for Jesus (Acts 4:12).

Where did he get this confidence? It came from the emboldening reality that Christ promised to speak through them. He told them not to worry when they stood before rulers and authorities and powers because the Holy Spirit would give them the words to speak (Matt. 10:19-20).

We too can have this same confidence to speak the good news of Jesus because we too have the gospel word. We have Christ, who is the Word of God, to declare to our unbelieving friends. We don't have to invent the message or come up with clever or memorable ways of stating it; we can simply declare the Word of Christ to them. This doesn't mean the gospel is reduced to a formula or a small track of information, but that as we live life among unbelievers, we don't have to rely on a style of delivery to bring them to faith and repentance. We rest in the power that God supplies as we declare the perfect life, substitutionary sacrifice, and powerful resurrection of Jesus for us and our salvation. God speaks through his Word. He speaks today and he will speak to those who don't know him.

3. Has God Sent?

As Peter and John confidently proclaim Christ as Lord to the religious liberals of their day, the basis of their authority was called into question yet again. These powerful, political Jewish leaders could not understand how common, uneducated men could teach with such authority and conviction. They were frustrated that the apostles were without credentialed papers or authorization to preach such a message. If the lowest form of leadership influence is to stoop to a title earned or positional posture, then the Sanhedrin had only one card left.

After hearing the testimony of Peter and John, the Sanhedrin sent them away and deliberated how to stop this Spirit-led movement. They decided to tell the apostles to stop declaring their bold, exclusive message of Christ. Once again, the opportunity to capitulate to the religious leadership was there. Peter and John could have backed off and said, "They just want us to stop talking about Jesus. Okay, be we can still tell them God did it." And yet, Peter and John knew where their authority was derived. They were authorized and sent by Christ himself to witness about him. They knew they had a mission and that they had two options: either be faithful to the one who sent them, or disobey and disregard the authority of Jesus who sent them.

Boldness grows within our own lives when we see that we too have been sent by Christ for the exact same mission. Just as Jesus sent his first disciples to go and make more disciples, this mission still stands for us today. We are called to obedience and faithfulness in the work of that mission. As a prominent pastor used to say, "We are either missionaries or impostors." We have a mandate to take the word of Christ and witness to his resurrection to the world in which we live.

How can I be confident or bold in sharing the gospel with those around me? It stems from knowing the one who sent me and knowing his call on my life to witness to his grace, power, and love. Peter and John declared, "We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard" (Acts 4:20). Why? Because they had been sent.

Where do you live today? Where are you at right now? Do you see that God has sent you to that place? Do you understand that Christ has, by his authority, placed you in that specific place and within those specific relationships with the mission of sharing about him? Boldness can grow when we see our calling and our mission in this light. We are sent to these people at this specific point in human history to declare to them the cross and resurrection of Jesus on their behalf.

4. Will God Supply?

With a healed man who had been a cripple for over forty years of his life standing before them and two men boldly proclaiming Christ, this council had no way of outright punishing Peter and John. All they could do is send them away with greater threats and a promise of greater persecution. Again, this was another opportunity to cower in fear, to back off the message, or to bow out altogether.

As they went home to their family and friends, the adrenaline rush of being in prison and before a council that could call for your death began to wear off. Maybe this was too risky of a move. Maybe the church should drop down undercover for a while. Maybe the cost is too high. As they gathered the church together, the threats could become deafening, forcing them to press pause on the movement. And yet the calling stood before them. So they asked a fourth question. Will God supply the very thing we need, namely boldness, to continue witnessing to the gospel of Jesus in the face of persecution?

Will God supply what we need? The early church assembled together and prayed and asked for that very thing in Acts 4:24-30: "God supply what we need. Give us more boldness." How do you increase in boldness? You ask for more of it. To be bold declaring the gospel, we need to ask for God to supply the boldness we lack.

Maybe we are so nervous about sharing the gospel because we haven't asked for the Spirit to empower us in the mission. We haven't asked for God to make us bold. Even in the face of the threats, whether real or imagined, we have simply forgotten the one who has all authority and power and the one who will accomplish his mission (Matt. 28:18). Boldness comes if we ask for it.

I love verse 31 of Acts 4: "And when they had prayed, the place in which they were gathered together was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and continued to speak the word of God with boldness." They prayed and God gave them the very thing they asked for.

Will God supply what we need to be faithful in the mission he has given us? If it really is his mission, then how can he deny us what we need? We just have to ask.

5. Do I Trust God?

This brings me back to asking one all-encompassing question to increase my boldness. Do I trust God? Will he do what he has promised (save) by the means he has ordained (speaking) to the people he has placed before me (sent) in the power he gives (supply)? If I can answer yes to that one question, then I am emboldened to do what he calls me to do.

This isn't a matter of conjuring up my own faith and motivation. It's the question of my heart saying, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24). Do we trust God to do what he has promised to do? Then let us with courageous boldness ask him to continue saving, speaking, sending and supplying us with boldness for his glory.

Zachary Lee 11/13/13 Zachary Lee 11/13/13

9 Myths of Discipleship

We’re called to be disciples and make disciples, but this call often feels overwhelming.

However, discipleship doesn’t have to feel this way. Our tendency is to overcomplicate it and think of it as something it’s not.

Here are nine common myths we believe about discipleship:

1. I can’t disciple someone because I’m not “godly” enough.

Though some people are at a place where they should not be discipling others, most people sell themselves short. You don’t have to have a Ph.D in theology to meet with other believers and grow them in their love for the Lord. Even the average Christian knows enough to pray with people, confess sin, worship the Lord through song and read the Bible. Jesus’ command to make disciples is not just meant for the pastoral elite.

2. I can’t be discipled by someone unless they are far godlier than me.

I’ve met many people who are waiting for a Yoda or Gandalf figure to come in and radically change their life. Unfortunately, that is not usually how it works. It is okay to learn from those who are imperfect because nobody is perfect. Don’t ask someone who is less spiritually mature than you to disciple you, but also don’t wait to be discipled until the apostle Paul comes around. Seek out a mentor now.

3. Only older people can disciple younger people.

Most older people don’t want to learn from someone younger, but it is not wrong for the discipler to be younger. Paul even tells Timothy to make sure people don’t look down on him because of his young age. You should also feel free to disciple people around your same age. Spiritual maturity matters more than age.

4. I can’t have a “co-discipling” relationship.

One person doesn’t have to be the “disciple” and the other the “disciple maker.” You can both disciple each other. This is what the Bible means when it talks about “iron sharpening iron.” If you know several people who are not “above” or “below” you in spiritual maturity, co-disciple each other.

5. I have to get all my discipleship from one place.

You need to get your discipleship from several places. One person is not going to provide all your spiritual growth. In addition to having a mentor, you will also need to read books, listen to sermons, attend worship services, serve at your church, take classes, etc. Discipleship is a holistic exercise that involves more than one venue.

6. I can’t disciple others while I’m being discipled.

The opposite is true. We should always be being discipled and discipling others at the same time. We are always in the “middle” with people “above” and “below” us.

7. I can’t disciple others because I still struggle with sin.

Welcome to the club. If we couldn’t disciple others until all our sins were conquered, then we would never disciple anyone! True, there are certain deeper sins that disqualify someone to disciple for a time, but everyone struggles with sin as long as they are alive. Disciple others and be transparent with them about your ongoing battles.

8. I have to spend an equal amount of time with everyone I disciple.

This is not true. Jesus spends more time with Peter, James and John than with the other nine disciples. You provide general care for everyone, but you will only have the time to go deep with a few. Choose people who care about being discipled and spend most of your time with them.

9. I have to spend all my time on the person I don’t want to disciple.

There are times when we should just force ourselves to love, serve and disciple someone with whom we don’t really “click.” Jesus set our example for this by going to those whom nobody else loved. However, this does not mean it is wrong to disciple people you actually like—people with whom you actually want to hang out. Do both. Love friends and love the unlovable. That’s what Jesus did.

Now that we’ve debunked these myths, I pray that we would move forward and live out our call to be disciples and make disciples.

Zach Lee is Associate Home Groups Minister at The Village Church and is married to Katy. Follow him on Twitter: @zacharytlee.

Nick Abraham 11/11/13 Nick Abraham 11/11/13

5 Ways to Grace Your Workplace

I currently work in a "secular" job for a Fortune 500 company. I put the word secular in quotes because I think a common misconception by Christians is that there is such a thing as secular work. When we think this way, we may be tempted to view pastors or clergy as the only people that do any type of ministry work. As Paul reminds us in Ephesians 4, this is not the case. Also, I mention that I am Christian because according to my faith in Christ, I am to be a certain kind of employee, which is a part of my overall calling to be a certain kind of citizen and a certain kind of person. The Christian faith calls us to be a certain kind of people, a distinct people. We become a people set apart to live as Christ calls us to live as the Holy Spirit lives in and through us. As the apostle Peter tells us, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9). And we are called to be that distinct and chosen people in the world, including our jobs. Before working at my present job, I was a cook for five years at an Italian restaurant. If you have worked in the restaurant industry, you know that it can draw a very interesting and diverse crowd of employees. During that time, I became a Christian. I never thought that I would be in a more challenging work atmosphere to share and live out my faith. While my current work atmosphere is really nothing like the restaurant, I have found an entirely new set of challenges in living out my faith at work. The truth is, there are always challenges to carrying the gospel message in a fallen world, regardless of the context.

Every Good Endeavor

The corporate world presents a unique veneer of professionalism, ethics, and propriety, but the reality is that the guts of the day-to-day in a corporate job can be quite challenging. There are a myriad of moral conundrums that come up in an office. We are faced with temptations to gossip and engage in malicious chatter when others aren’t around. Many are faced with struggles with the opposite sex. We are broken people, and being in the workplace does not make that brokenness go away until we get home.

As a Christian, my integrity is often challenged by the situations in which I am placed. Beyond the personal struggles, I want to reflect the gospel well. My coworkers want to see if what they know about Christianity holds up. It doesn't matter if their perspective of Christianity is correct or not; they will judge for themselves based on what they know. If I am given the privilege and permission to share what I believe – and most importantly who Jesus is – I have an opportunity to add to shape their outlook on Christianity. It is where we can see evangelism and discipleship come together. Living the gospel at work is not some add-on to the Christian life that we can choose if we want; it’s a realization of the fullness of the Christian life. Being in Christ is meant to encompass all of our lives.

Recently, a friend gave me Tim Keller's book, Every Good Endeavor. As he usually does, Keller wonderfully connected work and faith in my own heart. So, I had a conversation with my manager about the book and asked if I could have an optional meeting during lunch with anyone in the department that would like to read together. It was approved, and we had seven people in our group. We met every week to discuss a chapter. The discussions were great, and it was the first time for some to really think about connecting faith and work.

Christian, our job is a ministry, plain and simple. God planted us in our current job for a particular reason. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28). The apostle Paul is telling us here, that God is working out his will in the lives of his people. At the cross, Jesus has freed us from making our work about us and has given us the gospel to revel in and tell others about.

Representing Well

So, how do we represent the gospel well in the workplace? Here are a five ways to grace your workplace:

1. Be bold, but smart. We can and must think on Paul’s boldness before Felix in Acts 24 or Jesus’s words on being brought before governors and kings in Matthew 10. Just because we are at work does not mean we are no longer a disciple of Jesus. We are never exempt from the call on our lives to make much of him. However, we must be smart and keep in mind passages like 1 Peter 2:13: “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution.” At work, we are subject to our bosses and to the leader or leaders of the company. So be bold, but keep in mind where you are.

2. Take risks. I realize this somewhat contradicts the last point, but the Christian life rests in that tension between risk and prudence. (For this point, I really should tell you to just go listen to anything that John Piper says about risk.) Practically though, take steps in work friendships to bring up Jesus. I am a relational evangelist, meaning I like to establish some type of friendship and then bring up Jesus. I am rarely the “can I tell you about Jesus?” guy. My weakness is to never actually bring up Jesus, or to do so in softened ways. Risk a friendship, risk a promotion, risk not “fitting in,” or maybe even risk your job if God would call you to that. Of course, we don’t want to be reckless just for the sake of being reckless.

3. Pray for your enemies. There will be people who do not like you for any number of reasons. Make it a practice to pray for the people that don’t seem to like you, who you don’t really get along with, or who just always seem to have something snarky to say to or about you. This is incredibly hard, which is why you need to rely on the Spirit in this. You will also discover God ministering to you even as you pray. Pray for them, for their families, their kids. Most importantly, pray for their relationship with Jesus.

4. Use your gift(s). I am a teacher/pastor type. I usually go into a teaching or pastoral mode at some point during my faith encounters with coworkers. The church is still the church both gathered and scattered. While at work we continue to be part of the church scattered and in the church we are called to use our gifts to build up the body. Pray about and find a way to use your gift(s). Start a Bible study, start a prayer group, take people’s prayer requests and pray for them, give of your time, talents, or treasures to those in need. Do whatever it takes to be a reconciling minister of the gospel (2 Cor. 5:18-20).

5. Work hard. Be on time, care about your job, follow the rules, get your work done, and help others. Of course, nonbelievers can be good employees, too. What makes us different is really captured in the household codes contained in many of the epistles. “Servants, be subject to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the unjust” (1 Pet. 2:18). We should be that “good” employee no matter who we work for, what the conditions are, and/or whether we like the job. It is sharing in these sufferings of Christ, light they may be, that we can make much of Christ by working hard with integrity. Never let laziness or grumbling be your calling card.

May God bless us as we seek to serve and make much of Christ in all areas of our lives.

“To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ. For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me.” (Col. 1:27-29)

Nick Abraham (DMin student at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) lives in Navarre, OH with his wife and daughter. He serves as an Associate Pastor at Alpine Bible Church in Sugarcreek, OH. He is a contributor to Make, Mature, Multiply: Becoming Fully-Formed Disciples of Jesus and blogs at Like Living Stones.

Owen Strachan 10/11/13 Owen Strachan 10/11/13

The Important Work of Witness

I want to tell you a story about a girl from ancient times.

She was a young woman possessing a quiet spirit. You might have found her type in any age—sweet, kind, and modest. If she were around today, she might be a fixture at youth group, a fan of Hillsong Music, and a devotee of a local coffee shop. Whatever her musical interests, you would know you could count on her, because behind her quiet and selfless demeanor was a strong faith.

Her name was Blandina. She in fact never sang a Christian rock anthem or visited a cafe, because she lived in the second century in present-day France. Hers was a humble life. In reality, it was a hard life. She was a slave girl.

With many others in Lyon, Blandina had become a Christian around AD 177. An elderly pastor named Pothinus had labored for years to spread the gospel in the area, and he had seen much success. People from all levels of society came to faith, including slaves like Blandina, from a place called Lyon in France.

Lyon was the main city of Gaul, which was part of the Roman Empire, still the world superpower at the time and officially pagan in nature. Seeking unity, the emperor Domitian had made Christianity illegal during his reign from AD 81 to 96. This did little to stop the spread of the faith, however, and actually seemed to intensify it. Blandina was one tiny part of this unquenchable trend, anonymous and unnoticed.

Until, that is, the persecution in Gaul reached fever pitch.

The anti-Christian spirit in Lyon grew so great that household servants suspected of being Christian made up outrageous accusations against believers to save their own skins. Charges such as incest and murder were thrown around. In the ensuing fracas, Blandina and many other Christians were taken into official custody. The odds of their survival were not good.

In short order, Blandina’s life was upended. With others, she was tortured under interrogation. Such official action was not fact-finding in nature; it was designed to break the will of the Christians in order to justify their impending deaths. Blandina was not a strong girl. She was not hearty. Her torturers were trained soldiers of tough fiber. On the list of tasks for a Roman warrior, subduing young girls was easy. Ratchet up the pain, break some bones, and get the job done.

That should have been what happened to Blandina. However, she did not die on the rack. Though she was tortured “from morning till evening” until her body was mangled, no amount of pain led her to confess error in being a Christian. She seemed to gain strength, in fact, when in the midst of her torture she cried out, “I am a Christian, and there is nothing vile done by us.”1

This was a woman, a believer, of whom this world was not worthy.

Can We Find This Kind of Strength Today?

Whew. I feel like I need a walk around the block after an account like that. That is the kind of real-life story that will, if you’re not careful, grab ahold of you and never let go.

This, I would propose, is exactly what many of us need today. We’ve established thus far that many of us could use some encouragement. Because of cultural pressure and other factors, many of us are tempted to live in a way that avoids sacrifice rather than embraces it when it is necessary to honor Christ.

We see cultural pressure and the costly nature of Christian faith in a secularizing culture, and we recoil. Is this really what God requires of us—to be unpopular and unsuccessful and even hated? That’s not what I got into this for. I was promised prosperity and favor and blessing. I was told that in coming to Jesus, the whole world would lie down at my feet. Raises would happen, friends would be made, difficulties would cease, sickness would end, and on the list goes. Now I’m making my way through life, and none of that is happening, and I’m seriously considering getting out.

This is an entirely natural way to think today. The challenges we discussed are real, painfully real. But here’s the thing: God has something better for us. He offers a gospel to believe and a kingdom to serve. He doesn’t want us to hunker down; he wants us to put it all on the line, risk everything, and experience the joy that comes from losing yourself in the only cause that counts. That’s the faith that comes from Christ; that’s the message we learn from the parable of the talents (Matt. 25:14–30).

That’s what the life of Blandina, and countless martyrs alongside her, teaches us.

How to Get There

So maybe you’re with me so far. You’re fired up by Blandina’s stunning example. You see that you’re tempted to play down your faith, to hide your light under a basket, as Jesus memorably put it (Matt. 5:15). You might even see that you love Christ but don’t really want to be bold. You’re not some super-apostle; you understand that if an odd opportunity presents itself to “be persecuted for righteousness’ sake” (5:10) that’s cool, but you’re just a normal Christian who wants to keep on keeping on.

Let me encourage you to approach your Christian witness with a few things in mind.

Remember that all of life is witness. As I mentioned earlier, we too often think of gospel “witness” or “mission” as something we do at a certain time in the week. At other times in our regular lives, we’re not doing it. We need to rethink this. All of our lives should be witness. In reality, this is not a new idea, but an ancient one.

The ancient Israelites were to be a continual light to their children, for example. They were charged by Yahweh to teach their offspring that “the Lord is one” (Deut. 6:4). This was supposed to be communicated at all times, as we saw earlier in Deuteronomy 6:6–9. This is true for us too. We should teach the truth about God and communicate the gospel of Christ to our children in specific times. But the witness of the Israelites went beyond this, and so should ours.

We’ll teach our families minute by minute, and we can proclaim and show that Christ has saved us at work, talking to parents at the park, on the bus, at intermission at a concert, at the local Starbucks, and everywhere in between. We can both preach the gospel in a way that makes sense to the context and live according to the gospel. We can, for example, show the fruit of the Spirit at all times. That will be an obvious witness to those around us.

So, talk to the mailman as a witness; go to your spinning class as a witness; use Facebook as a witness; sell socks on Etsy as a witness; answer the door as a witness; pin things on Pinterest as a witness; raise your children as a witness; drive in busy traffic as a witness; do laundry as a witness; create playlists on Spotify as a witness. Be bold and unapologetic. You do not need to be sent by an agency to be a fearless agent of the gospel. Your local church is training you for this role, week after week. The Holy Spirit is inside you. This is the commissioning you need. Gospel work isn’t for a half-hour slot every other week.

Your whole life is witness.

Living in this way is not confining. It’s liberating. It will fill moments that previously felt wasted with purpose. Ministry isn’t for the super-Christians. Every believer is a member of the “kingdom of priests” (Ex. 19:6; Rev. 1:6). All of us offer service to God. We can all risk everything for him. We can live every day for him.

Remember the incredible importance of witness. You will be a bolder Christian in your corner of things if you regularly call to mind just how important such work is.

Sometimes we act as if God is going to do it all. But in reality, God has called us to carry out the mission with him. This is part of the remarkable story of the New Testament. Jesus began the work of the kingdom when he came to earth. The majestic rule of God became visible and tangible as Jesus, the Messiah, performed miracles and taught as only God can teach. Though his disciples struggled to understand him, Christ’s true identity emerged as time passed by. Jesus undertook a new kind of kingship, however. He ascended not a throne but a cross. On the cross he canceled the debt of a wicked people and overcame the powers of darkness.

We may assume that things stopped there, and we’re all left to marvel at what Jesus accomplished. From there on out, God would lead people to see this wondrous truth, and salvation would be like a zap from the sky.

But that’s the thing: while God does all the saving of sinners, he calls his church to take up the work of the gospel. This is what the book of Acts shows: the first Christians began to spread the news of eternal life in Jesus’ name to everyone they could. Their story is intended to give way to our story. We are called to join them in promoting the gospel in all the world.

Is everybody supposed to be a Paul? An Apollos? A Stephen? Trotting the globe, leading the mission? No. Many of us are called to labor right where we are. But this must not obscure the fact that as believers, every last one of us is called to be a witness. The instruction Christ gave to his apostles is for us as well: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth” (Acts 1:8). The Holy Spirit did come upon the disciples of Christ, empowering them for faithful gospel proclamation (Acts 2:1–4). He does the same for every Christian today. The “sealing of the Spirit” is an empowerment for witness. A lot of times we focus on the Spirit’s work in other areas, but we must fix this in our minds: God has given us the precious Holy Spirit to light a fire in our hearts, and to enable us to carry that fire into the world so that fellow sinners may be rescued from eternal condemnation.

So we’re not supposed to gaze up at heaven, waiting on spiritual rain. It is essential that you and I recognize that God has given us a very important role: we are to be witnesses of Christ. We don’t have a choice in this matter. Every Christian shares this call, though we will naturally play different roles in the movement. Not all of us have the gift of evangelism, but all of us have the charge to evangelize.

This will likely feel daunting to many of us. But we can trust in the empowerment of God to lead us. We don’t lack anything that we need for this mission. We know the gospel, and we possess the Holy Spirit. Start here; go anywhere. There’s not some evangelistic secret you must unlock before you can witness effectively to people. It’s important to listen and learn what you can about others. But the gospel is “the power of God unto salvation” (Rom. 1:16).

Pray for boldness, and act in boldness. If you fail, try again. I’ve seen God give me the words I needed in many situations in which I felt awkward and afraid. I still do, and I would guess that I always will, at least some of the time. My cheeks get hot, my mouth gets dry, and I don’t know what exactly to say.

But then God gives me the courage to speak. He’s so faithful, and so kind.

He will do the same for you.

Remember the incredible power of a simple witness. Let me give you a few examples that play this out.

One of my friends was surfing channels one cold Maine night and happened upon the 700 Club. He didn’t know the truth about his sin and his need for a savior. He wasn’t expecting to make a life-changing decision while he was passing the time. He was doing what millions of us do: turn on the TV, zone out, and wait for sleep to take over. Something clicked, though, as the gospel was shared. He’s since become a strong believer, a godly member of his local church, and is raising his kids to know the Lord.

Another friend of mine was walking on the campus of the University of Maryland. He had seen “street preachers” before but paid them little mind. He was in business school and had little time for demagogues denouncing passersby. But something changed one day. He realized that in his quest to get everything, all he could in business, he was chasing the wind and would end up with nothing. The preacher’s words about Jesus’ death and resurrection pierced him. He was saved on the spot. Since then, he’s gone on to be a ministry leader with a thriving family.

I think also of a former atheist named John Joseph, whom I heard speak at the Together for the Gospel conference before 8,000 attendees. Just a few years ago, he was trapped in lust. Beyond that, he was a cocaine dealer. This guy was the type you see and think, Wow. That one’s beyond my powers. Not sure anyone’s going to reach him. But God is in the business of blowing us away. This young dude, looking like a Hollywood movie star, went to his local Blockbuster one night. He picked up Bill Maher’s Religulous, an open attack on and mockery of religious belief. This guy usually liked Maher’s stuff, but in this film he pushed too far and—even in the eyes of a fellow atheist—didn’t seem fair to Christians.

So, John got online, googled “Christianity Atheism debate,” and ended up watching videos of a spellbinding apologist named Ravi Zacharias. It was like Saul on the Damascus Road. John was struck dumb. He next came across Desiring God Ministries, which features the teaching of Pastor John Piper, and listened to sermon after sermon. In the course of this he was converted to Christ and transformed. He’s now a member of a strong church in Washington, D.C.

We could go on and on, my friends. What do we see in these and other testimonies? That God is great and merciful to sinners! That awesome truth aside, we see also that our witness is important. The work we do matters. Our preaching of the gospel is not dumb. We will feel that way; Satan will discourage in the moments when we do break free of fear and awkwardness. He’ll ambush us emotionally and cause us to doubt that we’ve said the right words. He’ll paralyze us by making us think that no good could ever come from our witness. If only God had sent someone else, someone who actually knows what he’s talking about.

These are lies from the pit of hell. But they will come. This is a natural part of a bold witness. Expect, as Jesus said, persecution. Plan for opposition. Ready your heart for it.

Keep pushing. Keep trying. Keep praying.

Your witness is important. You don’t need to be a super-Christian. You don’t need to be a missionary (though that is sensationally important work). You need to recognize the task God has given you, and invest where you are. It may not always be the case that you can share the whole gospel, either. Perhaps you take time in a certain situation to build trust and establish a friendship. Don’t condemn yourself in that case. When it is right to speak up, you’ll know. Sometimes we need to be direct, and sometimes we need to allow people to observe how we live and see how God works to redeem sinners.

Owen Strachan is executive director of the Council on Biblical Manhood & Womanhood and assistant professor of Christian Theology and Church History at Boyce College in Louisville, Kentucky. He also teaches for the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is married to Bethany and is the father of two children. Follow him on Twitter.

[This is an excerpt from Dr. Strachan's forthcoming book, Risky Gospel.]

Jonathan Dodson 4/27/12 Jonathan Dodson 4/27/12

All The Right Answers: Reasons It's Difficult to Share Our Faith

This is part four of the series The Difficulty of Sharing Our Faith. I’ve often heard people say the reason they find it difficult to share their faith is because they don’t have all the right answers. “What if someone suggests all paths lead to the same God, making Jesus irrelevant?” they say. Or “What if a co-worker claims she could never be a Christian because the Bible has too many errors?” These are serious questions that deserve thoughtful responses. As Christians, we should have reasons for our hope. However, I wonder if we often put our hope in having right answers instead of hoping in the reason for our faith? Let’s consider the role of “right answers” in the difficulty of sharing our faith.

Reasons for Hope

While some consider Christianity to be an unthinking faith, the Bible underscores the importance of reason. Peter, a disciple not known for being good with words, wrote this: “Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.” (1 Pet 3:14-15).

We are to offer “reasons” for our hope, to always be prepared. Prepared to do what? “Make a defense” is a translation of the word from which we get apologetic. An apologetic isn’t an “I’m sorry” attitude. Nor is it a defensive, antagonistic stance against culture. It is a reasoned statement of belief. To make an apologetic, then, is not to argue out of defensive insecurity, but to offer a reasonable explanation from our security. What kind of security frees us to offer reasonable explanations for our faith?

Two kinds of security free us to engage in apologetics. The first is intellectual security. The Christian faith has a long tradition of apologists who have faithfully defended the faith century after century, answering some of the most difficult questions. The earliest apologists include: Justin Martyr, Tertullian, Tatian, and Clement of Alexandria (view their texts here). Their apologetic answers have been handed down from generation to generation. New apologists, such as Ravi Zacharias, William Lane Craig, Tim Keller, John Frame, and Alvin Plantinga, also address new questions. We do well to read them.

It is important to note that the gospel alone acts as a grand apologetic, addressing the deepest of life’s questions including: the problem of evil and suffering, the existence of God, the hope of salvation, the nature of God and man, and the role of faith. Through apologetics the gospel has proven intellectually credible and existentially satisfying for many people across many cultures. The gospel provides a coherent, rational view on the world that is intellectually secure. It makes sense of a world where things are not as they are supposed to be. But there is another security that frees us to offer reasonable explanations for Christian faith.

Deep Security

Many of us won’t make time to read the old and new apologists. And perhaps we don’t have to. Is it possible that Peter had in mind an apologetic that included, not just reasons, but faith? Peter was writing to people who feared persecution for their faith. When we struggle to share our faith, do we not face persecution? We are attacked by thoughts that undermine our confidence, diminish our trust in Christ, and redirect us away from speaking about Jesus. Surely, this is a spiritual persecution. Cultural apologist Ken Myers has said:

“the challenge of living with popular culture may well be as serious for modern Christians as persecution and plagues were for the saints of earlier centuries.”[1]

While we may not face the gallows or plagues, we do face something more subtle--the invisible power of pop culture that undermines truth, dismisses character, and radically orients us toward comfort. The good news is that we have the same ability as those early saints to be secure and strong in our faith. When doubts surface and silent accusations fly on the cusp of mentioning the gospel, we need a security stronger than our persecution.

Before instructing the early Christians to always have an apologetic, Peter prefaces his statement with this: “Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy…” (1 Pet. 3:14). He reassures them, in the face of mockery, to sink their security deep into their hearts not heads. He reminds them that they have nothing to fear because they have Christ who offers perfect peace. He makes apologetics about Christ not right answers, a matter of both the head and the heart.

So, when we face that moment of temptation to shy away from identifying with Jesus, it is our identity in Jesus that we need most. We need not fear men because we can rest in Christ. People may reject us, but our forever acceptance in Christ gives us every reason to speak of Him, of His grace, mercy, kindness, love, and triumph over sin, death, and evil. O for stronger men and women who sink their identity deeply into what Jesus says about us more than what peers and co-workers (might) say about us! Our silence will convince no one of our rich, rewarding faith in Jesus. Fear over co-worker frowns will not inspire a smiling faith.

Authentic Apologetics

Our moment of opportunity is less about converting others and more about staying true to ourselves. Will we speak of our unique community in the church, the God-intoxicating gathering on Sunday, the stirring time of meditation on Wednesday morning, and the quiet, soul stirrings of communion with God? Will we speak authentically about what matters most to us and of the meaningful events in our lives or will we prove inauthentic, dismissing these things from conversation, and along with them, dismissing our true selves? Will we refrain from honoring the Lord Christ as holy in our hearts because we hold in honor the passing frowns of men in our heads? Surely the gospel offers a deeper security than the approval of passing men and women? Does not Christ’s love run deeper, His acceptance purer, and His approval longer than the love, acceptance, and approval that any person could ever give? If so, apologetics is meant to spring from a deep security in the heart, our unshakable union with Christ—fully loved, fully accepted. Apologetics is a matter of the heart as well as the head.

Defending the faith, then, is as much about defending Christ as our Lord in our hearts as it is explaining the reasonableness of our faith. The goal of apologetics should never be to convert others (that is the Spirit’s job), but it is to honor Christ as Lord in our hearts. This happens, very often, with our mouths. And in the end, for everyone the bottom-line issue isn’t an intellectual objection but hope objection. We refuse to remove our hope from one thing and transfer it to the ultimate thing, the person of Jesus. A witness of our authentic hope in Christ will be more compelling than any intellectual argument we could ever articulate. People need to see our hope burn in our bones. They need to sense the Lord Christ set apart in our hearts. They need to see that the gospel not only makes sense but that it also works. Christian faith is intellectually satisfying and existentially rich. So let’s not put our hope in having right answers but have answers that reflect our hope.

[1] Ken Myers, All God’s Children and Blue Suede Shoes: Christians and Popular Culture (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1989), v.

Jonathan K. Dodson (MDiv; ThM) serves as a pastor of Austin City Life in Austin, Texas. He is the author of Gospel-Centered Discipleship and has written articles in numerous blogs and journals such as The Resurgence, The Journal of Biblical Counseling, and Boundless. He has discipled men and women abroad and at home for almost two decades, taking great delight in communicating the gospel and seeing Christ formed in others. Twitter: @Jonathan_Dodson

Jonathan Dodson 3/30/12 Jonathan Dodson 3/30/12

Intolerance: Reasons It's Difficult to Share Faith

This is part three of the series The Difficulty of Sharing Our Faith.

It can be difficult to share our faith. Sometimes when opportunities arise to share our faith, we shrink back because we don't want to be intolerant. We don't want to come across as demeaning of other's beliefs or exclusivist in our own beliefs. This can be very positive concern, though it has some shortcomings too.

Tolerance as Christian Love

Tolerance can be either an expression of Christian love or intellectual and relational carelessness. How do you know if your tolerance is loving or careless? It depends on what we mean by tolerance. In The Intolerance of Tolerance, D. A. Carson helpfully clarifies the meaning of tolerance. He points out that there are two types of tolerance: old and new. The old tolerance is the belief that other opinions have a right to exist. This is a very Christian notion. Jesus taught us to love our neighbor, and even our enemy. The Christian ethic of love should compel disciples to tolerate other beliefs and religions. We ought to grant others the right to believe whatever they desire to believe. After all, what people believe is a deeply personal and profound matter. It isn't like picking out a ripe banana at the supermarket. Our beliefs require much more thought and investment. Love values people and respects the things they hold dear. Since Christians are to love God, neighbor and even enemy, tolerance (believing that people have the right to hold different opinions) can be very loving and respectful. Christianity shouldn't be coercive or proselytizing; it should be loving and tolerant.

The Carelessness of Tolerance

The new tolerance, however, is defined as the belief that all opinions are equally valid or true. This is quite a leap from the old tolerance. It is one thing to say something has the right to exist; it is quite another to say that two beliefs are equally valid. If we followed the logic of the new tolerance, it would be possible to affirm the following two statements:

We should grant others the dignity to believe whatever they want to believe.
We should force others to believe whatever we believe to be true.

The new tolerance has to allow for these two statements to coexist. The problem is that this is simply impossible to do! The new tolerance is intellectually careless. The new tolerance carelessly dismisses careful logic. For instance, new tolerance affirms that both Jesus and Allah are God. It also affirms that working to keep the Five Pillars of Islam and trusting in the work of Christ are both ways to get to God. The problem, however, is that both Islam and Christianity fundamentally disagree on who God is and how to reach him. In Islam, we reach up to God but in Christianity, God reaches down to us. These beliefs can't be equally valid and true because to affirm one its to invalidate the other.

This intellectual carelessness is not only illogical; it is exclusively intolerant. According to the new tolerance, it should be intolerant to not tolerate exclusive faiths like Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. Instead, the new tolerance makes the exclusive claim that all religions lead to the same God. This is an act of great disrespect, dismissing the centuries of study, formulation, adherence, and faith of religious devotees. In this, the new tolerance is religious. It makes an exclusive claim (all beliefs are equally true) and intolerantly forces that belief onto everyone. As a result, it is not only intellectually careless but relationally careless.

The Relational Impact of Our Confusion

The carelessness of the new tolerance impacts relationships. Have you ever been on the precipice of a spiritual conversation with someone of a different faith, but backed off because you thought to yourself: "I don't want them to think I'm intolerant or judgmental of what they believe?" If so, you did this out of a confusion over what tolerance truly is. Your behavior was affected by your (wrong) belief that tolerance means validating all other faiths as equally true. When we affirm two contradictory statements, it creates a cognitive (and spiritual) dissonance that affects our behavior in social settings. We become paralyzed, unable to discuss some of life's most meaningful questions with others because, on the one hand, we tolerate differences (classic tolerance) and on the new hand, we dismiss differences (since they are equally valid). The unfortunate result is that relationships often remain skin-deep. We don't get down into the weighty matters of faith, ethics, truth, and beauty.

So you see, there's quite a difference between the old and new tolerance. While we should grant others the dignity of their belief (or unbelief), classic tolerance also expects the differences between beliefs to come out. Classic, and Christian, tolerance should promote respectful dialogue and charitable debate between religions. Christians should honor differences and dialogue to grow in clarity and appreciation of differences between religious viewpoints. We should be eager to learn from others about their faith, not condemn them for their faith. Meaningful conversation is in short supply, and of all people, Christians should have meaningful conversations with others. After all, Jesus claimed to answer the deepest questions of life. And if his teachings are true, then we have every reason to talk deeply with others about meaning, faith, and truth. Jesus gives us every reason to be classically tolerant, full of love, and persuasively engaged in the things that matter most.