4 Ways to Redeem Millenial Ideology

Every culture possesses true treasure. Gems of wisdom and truth that are worthy of affirmation. This is the “indigenizing” principle of Christian missionary work which affirms that the gospel is at home in every culture and every culture is at home with the gospel. Just as with every culture, the gospel is at home with Millenials. What are the specific redemptive windows of Millenial culture? Let’s explore a handful of those windows.

1. We must embrace the Millenial faith crisis as an opportunity, instead of fearing it as a danger.

David Bosch quotes Kraemer: “Strictly speaking, one ought to say that the church is always in a state of crisis and that its greatest shortcoming is that it is only occasionally aware of it… [the church] has always needed apparent failure and suffering in order to become fully alive to its real nature and mission.”¹

As we, the Western church, acknowledge our failure to proclaim and embody an emotionally, culturally, and rationally coherent gospel, it allows us the opportunity to invite the Holy Spirit’s power into this unique moment of history. Up until now, the activity of many local churches has revolved around modern ministry methodologies and “best practices”. We have tended to plug and play rather than innovate and pray. But where we are travelling now, there are no roads.

Hand wringing about “losing this generation” accomplishes nothing to engage them. Lamenting the “hard-hearted, rebellious youth” will do nothing to instigate meaningful change. Rather than these fear-based attitudes, the Spirit invites us into a prayerful conversation of creativity about our present opportunities to participate in the Kingdom of God.

2. We can celebrate Millenials intolerance for superficial and overly simplistic reality frameworks.

We have already discussed Millenials disgust for know-it-alls, their frustration with canned answers, and their refusal to avoid life’s big questions. Young adults have recognized that life is more complex than it’s been made out to be. The arrogance of modernity’s assumed omniscience has been swept away and what seems to remain is a general attitude of teachability, humility, and curiosity. Of course, the extreme dark side of post-modern thought can bring unrelenting doubt, apathy towards truth, and agnosticism. But on the whole, these words do not seem to describe Millenials.

3. We can graciously engage a generation that is eager for honest dialogue.

Millenials aren’t looking for another sales pitch. They want an open conversation and thanks to social media and blogging, many are more used to self-sharing than many past generations. This kind of transparency can be redeemed to for the sake of conversations that really matter.

4. We can feed Millenial’s longing for exploration, experience, adventure, and discovery.

Don’t those words sound an awful lot like Jesus’ invitation to follow him? For too long, the concept of discipleship has been reduced to stuff an older guy talks about with a younger guy at Starbucks.

• Information – The “information” young adults must become acquainted with is the richness of the biblical narrative and their invitation to participate in what God is doing in the world. This is what it means to come to know Jesus intellectually. This can happen at Starbucks.
• Imitation – In a community of practice, a disciple will begin to mimic the behavior, rhythms, and practices of those who are pointing them to Jesus. There is a re-shaping of life and character that takes place in this facet of the discipleship process. This happens in living rooms, kitchens, cars, workplaces, gyms, over text, call, email, or wherever else life happens.
• Innovation – In this component of discipleship, the Holy Spirit empowers a person and/or community to creatively embody the way of the Kingdom in their context. Here mentors and teachers must partner with Millenials to unleash their biblically-informed imagination to discover what God wants to do in and around them. This kickstart can happen in Starbucks, but that’s only the beginning of the adventure.

The invitation to follow Jesus is an adventure that involves our entire personhood. It will literally take us new places in our neighborhood, our city, and our world. By feeding Millenials experiences that expose them to the way of Jesus, we can facilitate Kingdom exploration that will transform their lives. ^{1. Bosch, 2 ↩}

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Sean (@Sean_Post) lives in Maple Valley, WA with his wife and two sons and leads a one-year discipleship experience for young adults called “Adelphia”. He is completing his doctorate in Missional Leadership.

Adapted with permission from One Year Millenials, Short-Term Communities, and a Coherent Christianity. One Year explains how to cultivate community and relationship with Millenials in ways that truly benefit their faith formation. Anyone seeking to engage young adults with a coherent Christianity will appreciate the big picture research and heart-level insights that flow throughout the book.

The Prodigal Dad

I was recently with a father who has been through the ringer with his son over the past few years. Suffice it to say that he has run into the wall just beyond the line of God’s sovereign will and the common grace of parenting. Or perhaps more illustrative, he’s living in the tension of “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.” This man is a great dad. His heart’s desire is that all of his children would, like the apostle Paul, “be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith.” (Philippians 3:9)

As we discussed God’s sovereignty, man’s depravity, and the life lessons therein, I was reminded about something my own dad has always told me. “Never be afraid to come home.”

Six simple words that meant so much more. They meant that I will always have a home under my father’s roof. They meant that my dad would be the first person I call (save perhaps my wife nowadays) if I found myself in real trouble. They meant that there is literally nothing I could do to lose my right to be a part of my father’s family. I always knew this. And so do the kids of my friend above.

But as I drove away from our meeting, a distant realization caught up with me all too quickly. It was as if I had walked out my front door into a maelstrom of reality dragging me deeper into its grasp. You see, as I have often written about, I have a great dad. And my friend is a great dad. But many in our own church cannot say the same thing.

The fatherhood deficiency in American society is nothing new. In fact, the worldwide phenomenon has been pandemic for years. I was recently in Nicaragua. They have the same problem. I’ve been to 3 or 4 other Latin American nations that are in the same boat. It’s not a new thing.

But the striking reality is this. As the trend grows, fewer and fewer children will hear the words “Never be afraid to come home.”

Now, why are those words so important?

Because of all the things they tell us. “Never be afraid to come home” is a clear picture of the reality that God searches for his prodigal children. It’s the declaration that there is literally nothing a child of God can do to lose the right to be called his son or daughter. It means that, for the Christian, our first response when we sin is to run to our Father, rather than away from him. And that is a true mark of maturity.

But I’m fearful that without our earthly dads to tell us that, we will have a difficult time learning it about our Heavenly Father. My dad—his actions, his love, and his words—were instrumental in my regeneration experience. And what’s more, my dad was a father figure for some of my closest friends when we all lived in a house together. They may not have called him dad. But a good father is a father in the same way a good athlete is an athlete. It just comes natural.

Don’t think that I’m attempting to take the supernatural away from God, as if he couldn’t possibly regenerate hearts to faith without the example of good earthly fathers. The truth is, God has ordained fatherhood to be a vivid illustration of his relationship to us. Why else would he call us sons and daughters?  So, for Christian fathers, the office of fatherhood carries a grace-filled weight that is unlike any other office that men can occupy.

But the problem is we have too many prodigal dads. Fulfilling their own destinies through achievement. Chasing a different woman every night at the local dive bar to escape chronic loneliness. Exploring “feminization” and “metrosexuality” simply because they are the latest trends on their news feeds. Searching for the kind of identity that is only to be found within the scope of God’s good design.

So, this is a plea to the prodigal dads. It’s not too late. My dad’s not perfect. Far from it. But he was, is, and will always be—first and foremost—my dad.

If God can heal the most fractured relationship that has ever existed—the one between you and him—he can surely reconcile your relationship with your wife and kids by his grace. He can certainly bring you under the fountain of joy that comes from renewal in Him. He can put you back together.

Prodigal dad, “Never be afraid to come home.”

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Alex Dean (@AlexMartinDean) is a pastor in Lakeland, Florida. Holding an undergraduate degree from Dallas Baptist University, Alex is currently completing his graduate work at Reformed Theological Seminary. His book, Gospel Regeneration: A story of death, life, and sleeping in a van, is available on Amazon, iBooks, and other online retailers. Follow his blog at www.GospelRegeneration.com and follow him on Twitter.

Used with permission. Originally posted at GospelRegeneration.com.

What Do We Mean By “Missional Living”?

When we look at the missional life of the disciples, it’s tempting to think the work they did in proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and engaging in the works of the kingdom were only done with Jesus. And while there is truth in the with, there was a much greater reality present in their time with the Rabbi. More accurately, the apostles were being led into mission. Jesus said as much, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matt. 4:19). Following Jesus was prerequisite to mission with him. And while the disciples ministered alongside Jesus in many settings, all the while, they had actually been led into God-­appointed missional ventures by the God­man.

While missional living could be described as something the church does with Jesus as well, it is more appropriately something the church follows him into. As we step out in faith to be a “city on a hill,” we must remind ourselves that Jesus is already at work and we are to join him in the work he has already begun to do in our cities. And in the times we live, we need to take special care to discern the time as “men of Issachar” so that the mission we are being led into is at its most potent.

Here are four ways that the local church can follow Jesus into missional living in the twenty-first century:

1. Following Jesus Into (And Out From) Worship

All missional living starts with worship and leads to more worship, both personally and corporately. Just as faith without works is dead, good works separated from active trust in the person and work of Jesus, is also dead. Entering into the mission of Jesus requires that we first enter into his rest . . . receiving his easy yoke and light burden of grace. To help cultivate this mindset, we will:

• Encourage our people to see that the only way to become like Jesus is to prioritize being with Jesus daily. Ordinary, common spiritual practices like Bible reading, prayer, and “one-anothering” community are at the center of this. Apart from (Jesus) we can do nothing.
• Emphasize worshiping God with God’s other daughters and sons each Lord’s Day—encouraging our people to order the rest of their lives around worship, versus the other way around. Do not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encourage one another.

2. Following Jesus Into The World Through Public Faith

We are called by Jesus to follow him into the world as an expression of our worship. As carriers of heaven’s DNA and the aroma of Jesus in his world, we want to carry his grace, truth, and beauty into all the places where we live, work, and play–primarily through:

• Public forums and conversations (some church sponsored and others in living rooms and public spaces) about things that matter to us and to friends and neighbors who do not believe as we do. Subjects like sexuality, race and class issues, family-related concerns, the arts, politics, and loneliness are a few examples of subject matter. As some of your own poets have said . . .
• Loving friends and neighbors well. Being intentional, thoughtful, and creative about being the “first responders” wherever opportunities to extend the kindness, love, support, and hope that Jesus did to people who were hurting, lonely and alone, and feeling ashamed. Love your neighbor as yourself.
• Parties. Showing hospitality and giving life away by opening up our church, our homes, and our lives in order to turn strangers into friends, and friends into family. We have to celebrate.

3. Following Jesus Into The World Through The Integration Of Faith and Work

Because so many people spend the majority of their waking hours working—whether as a volunteer or for hire—it is important to see vocation as a calling from God and the workplace as a primary realm for following Jesus and loving the world. We express these truths by:

• Affirming that all creative work–work that takes raw material and makes something new for the benefit of the world and the human community—is an expression of God’s creativity through people who bear his image. God created . . . and it was good.
• Affirming that all redemptive work—work that fights decay and seeks restoration of people, places, and things—is an expression of God’s redeeming grace, also through people who bear his image. All creation groans . . . eagerly awaiting freedom. Jesus is making all things new.

4. Following Jesus Into The World Through Mercy and Justice

Because the poor in spirit are called “blessed,” and because Jesus gave special attention to the poor, the weak, the under-served, the overlooked, and those living on the margins, the church must dedicate her time, energy, service, and a significant portion of her financial resources to mercy and justice efforts. We will do this by:

• Emphasizing in our public ministry the importance of the poor, the weak, the overlooked, and the under-served in the economy of God’s kingdom.
• Creating intentional, supportive space in our community for children and adults with special needs.
• Forming partnerships and providing financial support to our cities “best in class” mercy and justice organizations.

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While there are many ways to live missional in our cities, these in particular have an eye and ear towards the age we live in. They place the onus on our churches to collaborate with culture rather than cede from it. The hope is that as we pursue this kind of missional living, our churches will, in the power of the Spirit, make Jesus, as Ray Ortlund has said, “non-­ignorable in our cities.”

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Scott Sauls, a graduate of Furman University and Covenant Seminary, is foremost a son of God and the husband of one beautiful wife (Patti), the father of two fabulous daughters (Abby and Ellie), and the primary source of love and affection for a small dog (Lulu). Professionally, Scott serves as the Senior Pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, Tennessee. Prior to Nashville, Scott was a Lead and Preaching Pastor, as well as the writer of small group studies, for Redeemer Presbyterian of New York City. Twitter: @scottsauls.

Brad Andrews serves as pastor for preaching, vision, and missional leadership at Mercyview in Tulsa, OK and as a religion columnist for the former Urban Tulsa Weekly. He also was one of the ten framers of The Missional Manifesto, alongside Tim Keller, Ed Stetzer, Alan Hirsch, Eric Mason, J.D. Greear, Dan Kimball, Linda Berquist, Craig Ott, and Philip Nation. He blogs often at mercyview.com/blog.

Adapted from www.scottsauls.com. Used with permission. Brad Andrews contributed the introduction and conclusion.

Thankfulness: Deep, Loud, & Dangerous

This week until Thanksgiving, everyone will be talking about thankfulness, so it’s especially important to ensure we understand it from a biblical perspective. Scripture has plenty to say on this subject. Among other things, it tells us that thankfulness is deeper, louder, and more dangerous than we might think.

Designed by God

Thankfulness goes much deeper than we might think. It’s not a human idea. In fact, it was in the Creator’s mind when he created. The Apostle Paul says food was created by God “to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth . . . ” and then immediately goes on to broaden this out to ‘everything’ God created (1 Tim. 4:3-4). This is a massive theological claim. God created corn on the cob, steak, pasta, avocados (dare we say even brussel sprouts and liver?) with a specific purpose in mind: that they would be received and then result in thanksgiving flowing back to him. Even a grape and a tangerine can lead a purpose-driven life. Who knew that baby carrots and barbecue ribs and escargot had a telos? They do. So do sunsets and flowers and rain, and good conversations and sweet sleep. God intended them to produce thanksgiving. Thankfulness is the God-designed follow-through to God-given blessing.

Giving thanks to God is living along the grain of the universe, savoring God’s creation in sync with the Creator. It’s one of the very best ways of bringing glory to God (2 Cor. 4:15). On the other hand, enjoying a meal or conversation or movie without feeling thanks to God is a tragic exercise in missing the point. It’s a waste, like using a laptop as a paperweight. It’s a damaging mistake, like using a light bulb as a hammer.

Meant to Be Overheard

Thankfulness can be silent and personal. But very often it ought to be loud enough to be heard by others. Thankfulness wants to point others toward God. And it wants to be a group activity. “Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together!” Thankfulness is much happier when someone else can say “Amen” (1 Cor. 14:16-17).

In John 11, God (the Son) gives thanks to God (the Father). Jesus stands before the tomb of Lazarus and prays aloud, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” He then continues praying, stating to God why he said just thanks out loud: “I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” In other words, Jesus gives thanks to God aloud because he wants the other people present to overhear his thanksgiving and believe in God and in his mission. That’s the whole point. Thankfulness is meant to point others toward God.

In Acts 27, the Apostle Paul is sailing for Rome as a prisoner. The ship he’s traveling on gets caught and driven along in a storm for many days, the crew frantically throwing all the cargo overboard. Finally, they approach land and spend a long night in the dark, anchors down. In the morning, here’s what happens: “Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, ‘Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. Therefore I urge you to take some food. It will give you strength, for not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you.’ And when he had said these things, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat.”

I love this little phrase “. . . And giving thanks to God in the presence of all . . . ” It had been fourteen days since Paul had eaten! He must have been starving. Here was bread in his hands, finally. But he paused and prayed. He gave thanks “in the presence of all”—clearly meaning for these sailors to learn something about God and about the purpose of food. Paul was living with the grain of the universe, going vertical with thanks, and doing it loud enough for others to hear.

Easily Misused

But thankfulness can be dangerous. It’s striking that in the famous story of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:9-14), the one who’s recorded as expressing thankfulness is the Pharisee. “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.” Of course, this isn’t true thankfulness. True thankfulness is a posture of great humility before God the giver. The Pharisee is using his supposed thankfulness in order to puff himself up. He’s taking something designed to make much of God and instead using it to make much of himself. His thankfulness is false cover for his pride. The spotlight operator has turned the spotlight from the stage and is now standing, lit up with ludicrous glory, on the balcony. Pathetic and bizarre. God is clearly not pleased with this perversion of thankfulness. He rejects the Pharisee.

But lest we run too quickly to judgment . . . have we ever used thankfulness amiss? Have we ever publicly thanked God for an accomplishment and in so doing, wished for the accomplishment to be known more than the One we’re thanking? Have we ever tweeted “Thankful to God that my new article . . . my most recent speaking engagement . . . my kids . . . ” and mainly used our thankfulness to announce our latest achievement? Maybe? Just saying. How easy it is for the spotlight to turn from the stage to the stage hand.

This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for thankfulness, thankful that God has built it into the fabric of the universe, maximizing both his glory and our joy as we live in sync with his design.

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Stephen Witmer is Pastor of Pepperell Christian Fellowship in Pepperell, MA and teaches New Testament at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. He is the author of the forthcoming Eternity Changes Everything: How to Live Now in the Light of Your Future (Good Book Company). Follow him on Twitter: @stephenwitmer1.

Cue Transformative Discipleship

What will the world look like in 100 years? Or more specifically—what will Christianity look like in 100 years? In a 1,000 years? In 10,000 years?¹ This might be very hard for us to fathom. Thinking about the distant future is not something that we practice naturally. It takes intentional effort to think about the deep future. And here’s the thing about it: once we truly contemplate on what the world may or may not look like, we will recognize that the landscape in which we currently conduct our discipleship ministries will look nothing like the world inhabited by our future ancestors. Just think about the difference 50 years makes. Compare 1964 to 2014. Think about how the discipleship playing field has changed. Just think about the different strategies that Christians have implemented over the course of the past 50 years. Culture is always shifting. People are always changing. Christianity, to a degree, even changes. So how should this affect our discipleship-making? What can the Christian church do today to ensure that it leaves a lasting mark for the next generations of Christians? The Christian message might not need to evolve, but perhaps its discipleship-method does.

Cue Transformative Discipleship

Transformative Discipleship can be defined as a method of discipleship-making that is willing to change its form, appearance, and structure to effectively engage current culture with the gospel message of Jesus Christ.

What might this look like? In Center Church, Pastor Tim Keller helps us out:

Paul himself presented the gospel content in different ways — using different orders, arguments, levels of emphasis, and so on — to different cultures. And we should too. The gospel is so rich that it can be communicated in a form that fits every situation.

He goes on to expound upon this idea of gospel contextualization:

A contextualized gospel is marked by clarity and attractiveness, and yet it still challenges sinners’ self-sufficiency and calls them to repentance. It adapts and connects to the culture, yet at the same time challenges and confronts it.

Now what Keller calls gospel contextualization, I call transformative discipleship. The reason that I prefer this term is because transformative discipleship calls us to look at how discipleship-making methods have shifted throughout history. What this means is that we should be willing to look into the deep past and evaluate the positives and negatives of our ancestors’ discipleship-making methods. This would call us to analyze past mistakes and construct better present-day discipleship-making methods. Practically, here is what this model would emphasize:

1. Transformative Discipleship is historical.

Christians using the Transformative discipleship method would be willing to learn from 2,000 years of church history. The positives and negatives would be discussed openly, and gleaning wisdom from the Christian church’s past would be promoted.

2. Transformative Discipleship is culturally-centered.

Every culture places value on different things. That is why a versatile discipleship method is needed. The Transformative discipleship model challenges Christians to focus on the culture that they inhabit, engage with society, and learn how to best infiltrate the culture with the gospel message.

3. Transformative Discipleship is evolutionary.

This model emphasizes the importance of changing and molding the way current discipleship methods are being used within the church if necessary. As culture shifts and changes, the Christian church must practically “evolve” the ways that the gospel message is presented. This might seem commonsensical, but far too often the Christian church has not been willing to adapt its practices to fit its patrons. However, a flexible model is what Transformative discipleship is all about.

4. Transformative Discipleship is multi-faceted.

One of the key aspects of Transformative discipleship is its willingness to promote a vast variety of discipleship techniques. This mindset will promote to Christians the importance of going out into their surrounding communities with the gospel of Jesus Christ. This may look like door-to-door evangelism or perhaps simply having home groups scattered throughout the city. The transformative discipleship model is open to a number of different discipleship methods and approaches.

infiltrate culture with the gospel for the Future

If you think that there is a possibility of Christians living on this earth even for the next 500 years, than perhaps teaching the transformative discipleship method would be beneficial to implement. Instructing present-day Christians the transformative discipleship method would hopefully begin to shift our focus to how this generation and the next generations can infiltrate culture with the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Our teaching would shift from teaching “one-size-fits-all” discipleship methods, to teaching a transformative model that emphasizes molding the message of the gospel to fit the audience that one is witnessing too. This is what Keller has in mind when he specifically talks about gospel contextualization. I just am taking it one step further and calling the church to consider the distant past and even the far off future when teaching discipleship techniques to today’s next generation of Christians.

Again the gospel message does not change, but the methods in which we teach the gospel is always transforming and molding. Specifically, our gospel-proclaiming techniques shift and change to best fit the people groups that we are ministering too. This aligns very well with what the Apostle Paul taught:

“For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings.” —I Corinthians 9:19-23

I have simply introduced a few of the ideas that a transformative discipleship method would entail. There is no doubt that these ideas would benefit from being developed more thoroughly. However, at this point, it suffices to say that the transformative discipleship model is a method that I believe should be adopted by most Christians and churches simply because it teaches current believers to look into the past, live in the present, and expectantly look to the future when discussing various facets of Christian discipleship.

^{1. J.L. Schellenberg’s book, Evolutionary Religion, has influenced me a lot when writing this article. His ideas of thinking about the past, present, and future have proven extremely useful when writing about Transformative Discipleship. I am in debt to his wonderful writing. ↩}

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Matt Manry is the Director of Discipleship at Life Bible Church in Canton, Georgia. He is a student at Reformed Theological Seminary and Knox Theological Seminary. He also works on the editorial team for Credo Magazine and Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He blogs regularly at gospelglory.net.

4 Benefits of Stories for Discipleship

Not everyone values good stories. Sometimes Christians can be the worst of all, afraid of being of the world. What we must remember is that everything we do is part of a liturgy we live in. If we are not intentionally discipling ourselves and others with the truths of God’s story then we will be discipled by other things—for good or bad. Everything you hear, see, taste, and touch is telling a story. Reading good stories is crucial to combating these destructive stories. Christians must wisely choose stories that will help them mature as disciples.

1. Stories help us shed the skin of our unbelief.

“We are narrative creatures, and we need narrative nourishment—narrative catechisms.” — N. D. Wilson

Stories in the most fundamental way remove the barrier of believing that the impossible could happen. We read of dragons, knights, wizards, looking-glasses and these stories help prepare our hearts to believe truths that could not be believed without them. God has placed in our hearts the creativity to create stories that reflect the big truths of the story he is writing. Without these smaller glimpses, we might hear his story and balk at the fantastical nature of Red Sea crossing, killing giants, controlling nations and kings, and a virgin birth, but with them we hear his story and shed the skin of our unbelief.

Perhaps you enjoy reading fiction and you’re a fan of Lee Childs’ Jack Reacher novels. I enjoy these books for many reasons, but partly because my gut wants to believe that someone will make the wrong in this world right. That someone out there will make sure those who have acted wickedly and grossly immoral will get their comeuppance. Jack does this in a limited way. He’s limited because he’s a human with his own sinful actions and his thoughts aren’t always pure. But reading these books helps me to shed my unbelief, namely that the wicked I see now will go unpunished. These stories make me hope for a final judgement. For Someone perfect, unlike Jack, to come to earth and make all things right once and for all.

2. Stories mature wonder, bringing doctrine to life.

“We are like astonishing tales because they touch the nerve of ancient instinct of astonishment.” — G. K. Chesterton

The book of Romans is masterpiece of logic and doctrine. Paul skillfully demonstrates his knowledge of Old Testament theology, the life of Jesus, and how it all connects for Christians who have been made alive. What I’m not saying here is that doctrine is boring. Romans in particular is one of my favorite books in Scripture. It’s a delight to read. But stories bring doctrine to life in a way that doctrine alone cannot. Stories create wonder and awe.

Paul understands this as he wrote Romans. His doctrine is attached back to the story of Israel—especially the Exodus—and what this means for Christians who have experienced this New Exodus from slavery to life. Also, a major theme in Romans is justification by faith and many have made the point (wrongly) that justification isn’t central to the Christian faith because Jesus never mentions it. However, what they miss is Jesus lives, walks, and breaths justification by faith. Jesus brings the doctrine to life—while Paul plumbs the story’s depth. Story and doctrine are protons and neutrons that make a complete atom. One without the other and you’ve got nothing.

3. Stories lay siege to our affections.

“We are essentially and ultimately desiring animals, which is simply to say that we are essentially and ultimately lovers. To be human is to love, and it is what we love that defines who are.” — James K. A. Smith

Stories have a way of grabbing our heads and our hearts. Suppose you were an atheists reading The Chronicles of Narnia and the crucial chapter is upon you. Aslan gives himself up for Edmund. He’s tied to the stone and wickedness and evil descend upon him. The darkness weighs in on the reader as well. In those short pages the reader is driven to grief and sadness, but Aslan doesn’t stay dead. He rises victoriously. Your heart will leap for joy as Aslan lives before your head realizes what your affections have been driven to. It could be days, months, or years. You may be minding your own business when a perfect stranger intersects with you and shares another story with you. “This Man died and rose from the dead,” she might say. For a second time your heart leaps for joy within you—even if for a moment. Why is that? Why did that happen? Because C. S. Lewis’ Aslan has already prepared your heart to hear the truth of the death, resurrection, and reign of Jesus Christ. Stories matter because they lay siege to our hearts and prepare our minds. They are a narrative catechism, as N. D. Wilson says, maturing our hearts and minds to love rightly.

4. Stories brighten our sense of imago Dei.

“We know God’s character through story.” — Peter Leithart

Ultimately stories brighten our sense of imago Dei. They remind us we were created by God and placed in a story. That story continues on today and we are part of it. As imago Dei, we are more aware of what’s happening around us when we realize this. We do not have a meaningless existence. We do not serve a utilitarian purpose. There is love, beauty, and truth in this story. We must pursue these things.

We also must create a story of our own. Some of us play our part by writing stories. Some play music, paint, engineer, farm, mother or father, or pick up trash. These are all beautiful because we are all imago Dei. Tolkien reminds us of this when he calls us “sub-creators” and Lewis when he says, “There are no ordinary people.” Consider the superhero genre and one of the major fixed pieces—the mask. It could be anyone. Any of us could have these powers and be extraordinary. It could be the geeky news reporter, the teenager living with his aunt, the reclusive billionaire, or the blind man. Stories brighten the sense of the divine in our hearts.

Stories should play a crucial role in discipleship. Choose wisely. Read broadly. Let the stories grab your heart as they form you into a more mature disciple of Jesus Christ.

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Mathew B. Sims is the Editor-in-Chief at Exercise.com and has authored, edited, and contributed to several books including A Household Gospel, We Believe: Creeds, Confessions, & Catechisms for Worship, A Guide for Advent, Make, Mature, Multiply, and A Guide for Holy Week. Mathew, LeAnn (his wife), and his daughters Claire, Maddy, and Adele live in Taylors, SC at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains with their Airdale Terrier. They attend Downtown Presbyterian Church (PCA). Visit MathewBryanSims.com!

3 Reasons to Give Thanks

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble.  —Psalm 107:1-2

Psalm 107 doesn’t begin by marshaling reasons to thank God. Rather, the worshipper leads off with gratitude: “Oh give thanks to the LORD!” Bubbling over before the Lord, he enjoins us to worship with him. Sometimes we find it difficult to be spontaneously grateful to God. Complaining comes more naturally. Fortunately, the Psalmist gives us specific reasons we should give thanks to God. Two big reasons we should be grateful to God are: 1) Because he is good and 2) Because his goodness overflows.

1. Give Thanks Because He is Good

The first reason for giving thanks to God is because he is good. You might be thinking, “You don’t know how much bad I’ve experienced this year.” Hold on. Notice the writer doesn’t say give thanks because of what God has done. Rather, we are to give thanks because God, in his essence, is good. We have to get our attention off of ourselves to see it. What does it mean for God to be good? His goodness can refer to his moral excellence, an inherent goodness. We thank him because he is the origin and fountain of goodness. In fact, apart from God being the source of good, we wouldn’t know and experience the good. We would have no basis for delighting in the good done by our children or praising the character of a public servant saying, “That was good.” God gives us a reason for goodness—himself—and as a result we have a moral compass. We can discern between good and bad and delight in what is good.

Goodness can also refer to God’s beauty. This meaning of goodness refers to the superior quality of his goodness. When a mountain top view of moving film is particularly striking, we will say: “That was very good” or perhaps “Awesome.” Beauty calls out awe. God’s innate goodness isn’t just morally laudable; it’s aesthetically provoking. His glory furnishes us with a sense of beauty, an aesthetic witness that says, yes, there are things that are truly beautiful because there is a God of beauty. Elsewhere the psalmist tells us: “Out of Zion the perfection of beauty, God, has shone forth” (50:1). We should thank God because He is morally good and aesthetically good, both virtuous and beautiful. He has left us a moral compass and an aesthetic witness.

2. Give Thanks Because His Goodness Overflows

With God’s goodness in view, why can we give thanks for his goodness? Because God’s goodness overflows. God is so good he can’t contain himself. He has to overflow his goodness in an expression of everlasting love. Not only do we get morality and beauty from his goodness, but we also receive love. Through his love he imparts his goodness to us. We know he is good because he is good to us. So, we thank him, not just because he is good in abstract glory, but also because he is good to us in concrete ways. How is he good to us? Through his never-ending love. His goodness isn’t a side hug or a splash of affection. It is a continual, never-stopping, never-giving up, always and forever love (thanks, Sally-Lloyd Jones). A never-ending fountain. He loves you. He loves us, with love inexhaustible. Now you may think you are unlovable, but the goodness of God transcends the mess of your life. You may say, “Oh, you don’t know my life. God can’t really love me.” Or, “You don’t know how many mistakes I made this year.” It simply isn’t true, his steadfast love endures forever; it extends beyond anything you’ve ever done. Instead of asking: “Can he love me?” We should ask: “How can I get under his love?”

Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble. —Psalm 107:2

It’s the redeemed that can sing of God’s goodness and love. How can we get under his fountain of love? We become one of the redeemed. How are we redeemed? Not by being moral, not by being good. We get redeemed and loved by actually giving our badness to God. Like the Israelites, we return from exile. We open up honestly and say to him: “I’m bad, I’m actually worse than I really know, and I’m an offense to you in your never-ending goodness. Forgive me and take my badness. Take it in exchange for your goodness, the goodness that overflows to me in Jesus.” We get under the fountain of God’s love by walking under it with Jesus.

Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Jesus. Romans 8:38 says, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” How do we get under God’s goodness? By faith in Jesus, God becomes good for us. He is good, and he overflows in never-ending love for all who hope in Jesus. So, we give thanks to God because he is good. And he is good, not just as a basis for morality or an object of spiritual adoration, but in the gift of his goodness through the gospel, through the good news that God takes our badness in exchange for his goodness, our deformity for his beauty, our imperfection for his perfection in Jesus.

3. Give Thanks Because God Redeems Us From Trouble

Why should we be filled with gratitude to God? Because he redeems us from trouble. The redemption here isn’t individualistic with God redeeming little individuals from little troubles all over the world. No, his redemption is corporate. God is redeeming a people, a community. He says: “And gathered in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south” (Psalm 107:3). Historically, this is a reference to God rescuing Israel from exile. And yet, he’s continuing this gathering through Jesus, people from every tribe, tongue, nation, and language (Rev 5:9) and this people is the church. When God redeems; he gathers. He redeems us into a community. He converts us not just to the Head but to the Body. God redeems, not individuals but a people, a community that joyfully shares in their redemption, giving thanks for their Redeemer. He redeems us from trouble into a new community.

As you consider God’s goodness, don’t forget to see it overflowing in the community around you. The church is his gift to us, and though awkward at times (because we are awkward at times), God’s people remind us of God’s redeeming grace. Pause to look back and look around you to consider the ways he has redeemed you and others from trouble. Often we see him redeem us from our trouble by sending us a community who reveals God’s goodness to us by buying us groceries when we cannot afford them, being supported through grief, pointed to Jesus in our sin, encouraged about our growth, prayed for and loved.

Gratitude is not complete until it is expressed. I can be grateful for my wife in my heart, but if she never hears it, she never benefits. Express your gratitude with words. Like a fountain, like God, gratitude for goodness should overflow. Take some time to call, email, or text someone today to point out the goodness of God in their lives. Thank or encourage a friend, someone from your church family, or a relative. Most of all, pause and give thanks to God. Give thanks to God because he is good–morally, aesthetically, and redemptively. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good!

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Jonathan K. Dodson (MDiv; ThM) serves as a pastor of City Life Church in Austin, Texas. He is the author of Gospel-Centered Discipleship, Unbelievable Gospel, and Raised? 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

4 Reasons to Study Church History

Read your Bible. Pray with your spouse. Disciple your kids. Serve in the church. Meet with your small group. Mentor someone younger . . . and . . . study Christian history? I know what you’re thinking. There is way too much going on for me to think about juggling all the above, as well as maintaining a robust knowledge of the history of the faith. I suppose I can’t argue with you. Upfront, none of the above are requirements for admittance or acceptance into the family of God. The gospel calls us to enter a rest unlike we have ever known (Heb. 4). And because we’ve entered that rest by the blood of Christ alone, we are compelled by the love of Christ to grow deeper in the faith and to love people radically. I’m here to argue that God can use the study of Christian history to make you a mature disciple. Here are four reasons why.

1. The creeds and confessions were not written in a vacuum.

What is the chief principle of hermeneutics? Context, context, context! It’s no different for the historic creeds, confessions, and other writings. Many Christians have read the Nicene Creed, Luther’s Shorter Catechism, The Westminster Confession, and more, and taken them at face value. No doubt these documents were written to stand the test of time, but each one was also written within a specific historical context and toward specific historical debates.

Look at these titles from the early fathers: Against Heresies by Iraneus. On the Incarnation by Athanasius. Anti-Pelagian Writings by Augustine. Or how about Luther’s On the Bondage of the Will, which is entirely a reply to Erasmus’ On Free Will.

I’m not saying that you can’t take these things at face value. What I am saying is that if you do, you are only getting half of the story. The beauty of many of these creeds, confessions, and writings is set against the backdrop of heresy. We see throughout the history of Christianity a vigilant defense of the orthodoxy we enjoy today. We stand on the shoulders of those who have fought for the gospel over the past two-thousand years. Let us not take that for granted because we are ignorant of that rich history.

2. Most contemporary theologians are admittedly reproducing what has been first produced elsewhere in church history.

Trace this line with me. Jesus met Paul on the road to Damascus. Paul espoused Christ’s gospel throughout his writings in the first century. In the fourth century, Augustine expounded and defended Paul’s gospel theology against the heresies of his day (see specifically the Pelagian controversy). Martin Luther was an Augustinian monk. Read Calvin’s Institutes, and you’ll find Augustine flooding its pages. The Great Awakening in eighteenth-century America was led by Calvinist theologian Jonathan Edwards. In the twentieth-century, C.S. Lewis picked up on the Edwardsian threads of beauty and wonder. And, as you likely know, the greatest theologians of our day constantly place the works of centuries past before our eyes to remind us that orthodox theology stands the test of time.

When you read men like Keller, Piper, Chandler, Carson—and many more—know that they too stand on the shoulders of other Christians through church history. We reap the benefits of their careful study of the history of the faith.

3. Church history, particularly during the Reformation, spurs us to be always reforming.

Theologically speaking, the Reformation is not complete. How can I say that? One of the chief tenets of the Reformation was Sola Scriptura. Can you say that your study of Scripture has totally transformed your life in such a way that you think and act Biblically at all times? Of course you can’t. Neither can I.

We are always reforming when we, like the Reformers, constantly go back to the Scripture as our standard for doctrine and life. The spirit of the Reformation lives on when we continue to challenge modern thought, practice, and life with the unchanging truths of Scripture.

4. The history of Christianity proves it has always been a disciple making endeavor.

Make no mistake, when Christ said, “Go and make disciples,” he meant it. Paul discipled Timothy. Augustine was deeply committed to his teaching and preaching ministry in Carthage as a way of transmitting the chief tenets of our faith to young believers. Wycliffe committed his life to Oxford, not only as a way of equipping, but also as a way of sending out some of history’s first itinerant preachers. Luther worked in a close relationship with Melanchthon. Calvin transformed Geneva through education and systematization of theology.

Step back and take a broad look at the spread of Christianity, and you’ll find a simple yet stunning reality. Since the book of Acts, God has built his Church by the power of his Spirit and the transmission of the gospel. He does this through discipleship. That means that he has invited you into this overarching story of Christian history. You are probably not the next Augustine, Luther, or Calvin. But, if you are in Christ, you are absolutely vital to his mission of making disciples. Who are you discipling today?

Here are a few great resources on historical theology:

• Historical Theology: An Introduction to the History of Christian Thought by Alister McGrath.
• Confessions and Catechisms of the Reformation by Mark A. Noll.
• Concerning Christian Liberty by Martin Luther.
• Edwards on the Christian Life: Alive to the Beauty of God by Dane C. Ortlund (the entire series On the Christian Life from Crossway is church history gold)

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Alex Dean is a pastor in Lakeland, Florida. Holding an undergraduate degree from Dallas Baptist University, Alex is currently completing his graduate work at Reformed Theological Seminary. His book, Gospel Regeneration: A story of death, life, and sleeping in a van, will be released in the summer of 2014. Follow his blog at gospelregeneration.com or follow him on Twitter @alexmartindean.

3 Ways Not to Share Jesus with Millennials

Over the course of the last six months, I’ve been communicating almost daily with a friend who was my small group leader when I was in middle and high school. We’ll call him Kurt. Kurt was an awesome youth small group leader.

What I never knew was that he also loved making techno music. Now living in Berlin and signed to a record label, Kurt is one of the most popular DJs of house music and plays some of the largest clubs in Europe.

Many in the Christian community ostracized him when he began to pursue his music career, and the people of God have been more of a judge and jury than they have been friends and family.

Since leaving the country and experiencing a myriad of cultures, Kurt’s faith has started to wane. Today, he identifies as a Christian-leaning agnostic. He believes Christianity causes good, but he’s not sold on the inspiration of Scripture and many supernatural events in the Bible, which naturally produces obstacles on the road to true faith in Jesus.

As I’ve been discussing world events and sharing the gospel with Kurt over the last six months or so, I realized many of the phrases I was taught to use as apologetic tools while growing up in church simply were not working.

Kurt is a Millennial, barely, but his situation is not unlike many older Millennials. He’s smart, engaged with culture, and open-minded. He is open to Christianity, but when people share the gospel with him and cannot answer any questions that come from their proposals, he starts to wonder if anyone actually believes what they’re saying.

When we share the gospel with Millennials, we have to understand that everything will be called into question. Glittering Christian assumptions, like the ones below, may have been sufficient in our culture when Christianity was king, but they don’t work with Millennials now.

Here are three ways not to share Jesus with Millennials:

1. “The Bible says Jesus is the only way to heaven. That’s all you need.”

If you attempt to share Jesus with a Millennial by appealing to the authority of the Scriptures alone, you’re going to sound like you’re proposing that cats wear hats because Dr. Seuss says so.

Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point: if you try to prove the legitimacy of Jesus as Savior with Scripture, you’re going to immediately have to field the question, “Why should I believe what the Bible says?” and now you’ve just gotten yourself into a much more nuanced conversation that will be difficult to navigate, so be prepared.

Because of the increased secularization of American culture, you’re going to have to go beyond telling people to trust the Bible blindly—you have to explain why the Bible deserves to be trusted.

Instead of simply appealing to the Bible as the ultimate evidence one needs to believe in Jesus, be ready to defend the legitimacy of the Scriptures as reliable, historical documents, because they are!

2. “Jesus is our lover and protector. He makes life awesome.”

Have you paid attention to what happens to the disciples of Jesus? Faithful followers of Jesus rest in joy of eternity amidst the turmoil of the present.

The promises of God do not prevent pain, and pastors, don’t pretend they do.

If Millennial values hold true, and if the secularization of culture persists, the prosperity gospel is going to die a slow, painful, deserved death. Young people have experienced enough economic and institutional instability to know that life is tough, even for those resting in Jesus.

Pastors, pay attention to what your young people are reading and sharing on social media. People know the world is messed up, and they’re not naïve enough to think pledging allegiance to Jesus is going to make everything immediately better. To be sure, followers of Jesus find untouchable peace in the finished work of Christ, but that doesn’t mean life is always peachy.

Even the man who built his house on the rock had to endure the storm.

Don’t pitch prosperity nonsense. Not just because it’s untrue, but because it usually doesn’t work.

Having faith in Christ doesn’t prevent problems, but it gives us a foundation on which to stand when they come, because they will. Even more, if the storms of life leave us in a heap, the foundation of Christ is our only hope for new life.

Instead of pitching a health and wealth gospel, share the comfort found in Christ amidst life’s hardest times.

3. “The Church has been a dominant force for thousands of years, how could that many people be wrong?”

This is precisely the sort of thing you do not want to say to a Millennial to share Christ. Among many unchurched young people, particularly atheists, the Church is seen as an oppressive, money hungry organization built to be the biggest ponzi scheme in the world. We’ve already looked at the fact that Millennials are averse toward institutions, so pitching the authority of the Church because its aged institutionalism is probably not the wisest way to approach an unbelieving Millennial.

I love the Church deeply. I am committed to the establishment of the local church as the greatest force of social and spiritual change the world will ever know, but most young people are not. If you’re going to reach unbelieving Millennials, lead with the love of Jesus.

God sent Jesus (Jn. 3:16), and Jesus sends us (Matt. 28:18-20). The gospel has been missional from the beginning. The love of God fuels our love for others, and the grace of God fuels our pursuit of justice for others. The gospel is the fuel for social justice.

Instead of appealing to the dominant force of the Church, appeal to the life-changing love of Christ.

God Grows Faith in Millennials Hearts

Sharing Christ with others is almost never easy. We’re afraid of people rejecting what is at the core of our being, which makes us understandably timid. Thankfully, the same Jesus that saves sinners equips the saints to share the gospel. If you’re going to share Christ with Millennials, begin by praying and spending time with the Savior you’re sharing.

An unwillingness to share the gospel is ultimately an unwillingness to trust God and pursue the mission given to us by Jesus. The Great Commission is not a solo mission. In 1 Corinthians 3:6-7, Paul says, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” God will grow faith in Millenial hearts. He will make disciples by the power of the Spirit in that demographic. The gospel is the power of God for salvation—even among Millenials.

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Chris Martin (@ChrisMartin17) is a social media facilitator at LifeWay Christian Resources in, an M.Div. student at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, and blogger at Millennial Evangelical where he hopes to help pastors and Christians better understand, reach, and serve Millennials. He lives in Nashville with his wife, Susie, and hopes to pastor in the future.

Being a Non-Conventional Intern

Most guys who finish seminary either intern or land their first ministry position in pastoral ministry; that or they continue cleaning pools, painting, or selling insurance. Either way there is this natural progression forward in pastoral ministry: seminary graduate, intern, youth pastor, associate pastor, then senior pastor. Sure enough, some people fill multiple roles at the same time—like seminary student and pastor. But for the most part this is the progression. Not for me. I’m a non-conventional intern. I graduated with my Th.M. from Dallas Seminary in 2009, then entered my first pastorate in Tulsa as a High School Pastor. After four years, I departed as an associate pastor and have been a church planting intern with Joe Thorn at Redeemer Fellowship in St. Charles, Illinois for the past year.

I remember one of the first times I shared this story with another pastor. They asked: “Aren’t you taking a step back?” Well, yes, and at the same time, no.

I’m kind of a trendsetter—a trend that no doubt others will adopt as well and already are adopting. Still, I imagine many probably wonder what’s wrong with me. Could you not get another position in pastoral ministry? Actually, I did. I had a number of churches asking me to candidate, some of them pretty notable too. I almost accepted an offer from one to be an associate pastor, but God drew us to Chicago, and we’re still discerning exactly why.

Many pastors will discover that if they wish to get involved in church planting then they will likely step back and serve in an internship and/or a residency first. It’s becoming a normal expectation for guys, wishing to church plant. This is wise, as I’m discovering, because it helps assess fit for this unique ministry.

Why should an experienced pastor be willing to intern? What should an experienced pastor expect from an internship? And how does an experienced pastor handle this transition? Let’s take these questions head on.

Why should an experienced pastor be willing to intern?

The benefits are numerous, beyond what I’m giving here, but here are three of the most significant benefits.

First, accepting an internship role builds in much needed rest. Every experienced pastor needs a sabbatical. And too few have ever experienced one. An internship is a great way for you to get a quasi-sabbatical. Let me tell you: being an intern is a breeze compared to being a pastor. I devote about twenty to twenty-five hours a week to my “official” responsibilities. The rest of my time is devoted to study, writing, and prayer. If need be, I would work, but the Lord keeps providing other avenues for our family’s provision. Because of this, I do what I can to honor that provision and serve the church “unofficially” as well. But still, an internship is like a part-time sabbatical, and you need one of those if you’ve never had one. If you’re like me, you were putting in sixty and sometimes eighty-hour weeks. You might also have been managing major anxiety issues like I was. This is a great way to get the rest your body and soul need.

Second, it offers you time for healing. Not everyone needs this, but I did. I experienced some amount of pain coming out of my last pastorate. It has taken time to rebuild confidence and process some of my feelings, expectations, and to learn more about my weaknesses that needed sharpening and skills that needed developing. My internship has offered time to rebuild that confidence, get fresh perspective from new friends and colleagues, and learn more about myself.

Third, it offers you time for personal development. You need fresh eyes on you telling you how you need to grow and what you need to learn. An internship gives you the opportunity to have godly men you respect and love sharpen you. At least that’s been the outcome for me. It’s given me ample time to study. I’ve been pushed to read a systematic theology and numerous other books on prayer, preaching, shepherding, and more. In turn, I’m given more time to pray, opportunities to preach, and people to shepherd. All of this will profit you.

What Should An Experienced Pastor Expect From An Internship?

I’m learning more and more that much of life is managing expectations, and my expectations need to match others’ expectations for me.

If you’re someone who preached every week in a pastorate, well, that’s just not going to happen in an internship. I’ve had half a dozen preaching opportunities during the last year. Of course, for others this may seem like a windfall. Nonetheless, you have to be ready and willing to accept that you won’t be filling the pulpit as much. That takes humility and patience, especially if you are set on fire by God to preach the Word.

People will also look at you different than when you were a pastor. Some of that has to do with your own public relations campaign at church. My elders haven’t broadcasted my pastoral experience. That’s actually a good thing for me, because being a pastoral staff member at a mega church is more like being a program director than a shepherd. Yes, I sure did shepherd a lot, but, tragically, most of my time was devoted to administration and events. Ask me how to manage thirty small group leaders and put together an event, and I have you covered. Ask me to counsel an addict or a marriage on the cusp of divorce, and you’ll find me hemming and hawing—all the more reason to be an intern.

If you think an internship is going to be one extensive hangout with the pastor—in my case a smoke—or that you are going to get to do everything with that pastor, then you may be disappointed. That’s not to say that I don’t spend a good chunk of time being coached by Joe. I do, but there will also be times where I won’t see him much because we have different rhythms and responsibilities in ministry.

There are couples that need to meet privately with him. He also needs private study time. At times I study parallel with Joe or do research for him, but I don’t expect him to hold my hand. That’s part of the benefit he gets from having an intern; he has someone to share the ministry load.

Furthermore, the lead pastor is not the only person you’ll learn from. I’ve learned a lot and enjoyed spending time with our associate pastor as much as I have cherished time with Joe. Likewise, one of our lay pastors/elders has been a constant source of encouragement and learning.

How Should An Experienced Pastor Handle This Transition?

First, you should handle the transition with humility (Ph. 2:5-8). A pastor who is willing to step back and put himself in such a teachable position must possess an attitude that says, “I care about protecting the reputation of Christ.” Having local eldership functioning as covering and accountability is a necessary precaution for testing, training, and affirming a church planter. The last thing we need is puffed up entrepreneurs creating the next big public relations nightmare for Jesus and the church.

Second, you must keep in mind the priority of providing for your family. Internships don’t pay a lot. I’ve got a wife and three kids, so I can only keep this up as long as the Lord provides the funds to do so. Likewise, there is an end in sight. You can’t be a perpetual intern like Ryan on The Office. There’s been times where I’ve stepped back and examined whether I need to work part-time or pursue full-time employment during my internship. So far I am 2/3s through and God has faithfully provided along the way, with a little help from freelance writing and editing here and there. Regardless, a man’s first priority is to care for his family. If you’re not managing your household, then you shouldn’t be managing God’s (1Tim. 3:4).

Third, remain teachable (Pr. 19:20). Your covering will call you to repent of sin, or at least you better hope they do. You’re not going to commit to a year of intern ministry without revealing a little bit of the indwelling sin you wrestle with. You’ll also need to ask lots of questions and earnestly ask for feedback. Being teachable means being tactical. As you receive instruction, you need to determine how to best deploy it so it bears fruit in your future ministry.

Being a church planting intern is a rewarding experience. If you’re someone who feels called to church planting, but you’re hesitant because being an intern or resident might be “taking a step back,” I encourage you to check your heart. It may say more about you than the role.

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Joey Cochran, a ThM graduate of Dallas Seminary, is the church planting intern at Redeemer Fellowship in St. Charles, Illinois under the supervision of pastor Joe Thorn. You can follow him at jtcochran.com or @joeycochran.

Tethered to the Gospel

Common Grace and Scoliosis

My mouth dropped and my eyes filled with tears as the surgeon lifted my daughter’s spine x-ray up to the light box. As a former chiropractic assistant, I had seen my share of spine films twisting and coiling from scoliosis; I had no idea one day the film I saw would be my own eleven year old daughter’s. Four months earlier, a checkup as part of a school transfer had revealed that Sarah’s thoracic spine was beginning to curve into her right shoulder blade. Now, the x-ray showed that instead of stabilizing, the curve had nearly doubled in size. At her age, with the trajectory of progress her condition seemed to be on, it was no longer a question of if my daughter needed surgery, but what kind she should have, and how quickly she should have it.

Scoliosis is rarely fatal in and of itself, but left uncontrolled, an excessively curving spine can make everyday activities painful, give women difficulty during pregnancy, childbirth, and menopause, and restrict heart and lung function—not to mention the psychological trauma of disfigurement so distinctive that in earlier centuries it was associated with demon possession (and still is today in some countries). The surgical “gold standard” for progressing scoliosis in adolescents is spinal fusion, a complex surgery which sandwiches the spine between rods, and screws threaded through them, into the vertebrae. Fusion is usually corrective, but it renders parts of the spine permanently immobile, inhibits growth, and can stress the non-fused portion of the spine, causing pain, arthritis and the need for more surgeries later in life.  Sarah would need to spend the formative years of junior high and high school in a shoulder to hip brace, which would hopefully squeeze her spine into submission until she was nearly done growing. Then she would have the fusion surgery and spend months recovering. It was a daunting, discouraging prospect. There had to be a different approach.

Through the common grace of the Internet, we discovered a brand new type of spine surgery that leverages rapid adolescent growth to correct scoliosis curves. Similar in approach to orthodontic braces with teeth, vertebral body tethering involves inserting screws on the outside of a spinal curve, and a heavy polyethylene cable threaded through the heads of the screws, which are then tightened to straighten the spine part way. As an adolescent child continues to grow, the tension on the cord causes the spine to continue to straighten, often completely. With no fusion to restrict movement or inhibit growth unnecessarily, kids who receive this type of surgery are able to enjoy sports and all kinds of physical activity with no restrictions, With freedom of motion and growth maintained, and little to no risk of complications associated with fusion, kids are able to grow, play any sport, and generally return to just being growing kids.

One month of insurance drama, round the clock emailing and phone calling, and an eventual plane flight across the country later, I again looked at an x-ray of my daughter’s spine with eyes filled with tears, this time from inexpressible thankfulness as she slept nearby in a hospital bed.  In less than five hours, the chief of surgery at Shriners Hospital in Philadelphia had done the tethering procedure, and taken a post-operative film to make sure everything was just right, and it was, beautifully so. Sarah’s curve was less than half of what it had been mere hours before.

Today, six months after her surgery, Sarah has dived, literally, back into all the water sports she loves, with several small scars her only visible reminder of the procedure, as the invisible tether helps her grow stronger and straighter every day. The experience itself was sanctifying for our entire family. But through it, I have given a profound, and profoundly helpful, picture of how the “tether” of the gospel, rather than the crushing of the law, empowers our life as believers in Jesus.

homo incurvatus in se

Martin Luther summarized our battle with sin with the Latin phrase homo incurvatus in se—humanity curved in toward self.  My natural “bent” is away from God. Left to myself, I see only myself—my needs, my desires, my idols—and I am powerless to change. I need spiritual surgery.

The gospel, Paul reminds us in Romans 1, is that power. United with Christ through repentance and faith and made alive through the Holy Spirit, it is the power of the gospel that “tethers” our hearts and minds, reducing the curving inwardness of our sin and lifting our hearts towards our heavenly Father. In our times of struggle with temptation and discouragement, it is the tether of the gospel that keeps us from coiling back in on ourselves.

When my children seem determined to make Titus 3:3 their collective life verse, it is the tether of the gospel that helps me respond to them with the same goodness and kindness God showed in saving me (Ti 3:4).

When the administrivia of junior high homework and house projects “get in the way” of my plans for writing and study, the tether of the gospel reminds me of the One who emptied Himself of his glory to become a servant for me (Phil 2:7).

When my husband does not utter the precise arrangements of words and phrases that would make me feel loved at the precise moment I want him to, the tether of the gospel reminds me that God exults over me with singing (Zeph. 3:17).

And when the weight of my sin and weaknesses and failures begin to curve my heart inward toward my wretched self, it is the tether of the gospel that reminds me that before the very foundation of the world, God had chosen me in Christ before the very foundation of the world and that redemption and forgiveness are mine in him, forever (Eph 1).

The law can only crush me into rigid, outer conformity. But the tether of the gospel empowers me to move freely, as a beloved child of God and a growing disciples of Jesus Christ by curving my affections towards the Triune God.

—

Rachael Starke (@RachaelStarke) lives with her husband and three daughters in San Jose, California. A graduate of The Master's College, she is now pursuing a master's degree in Nutritional Science, and writes about the intersection of spiritual and physical nutrition at What Food Is For. She also writes for and co-edits Gospel-Centered Woman, a newly repository of resources for for pastoral staff and lay leaders to support women’s discipleship through the local church. She and her family are members of West Hills Community Church in Morgan Hill.

Redeeming Our Offices

Today, we’re re-releasing Jeremy Writebol’s everPresent: How the Gospel Relocates Us in the Present via Kindle on Amazon.com. You can buy your digital copy with one click $6.49.

A Bad Day at the Office

Why is it that we so deeply despise going to work? What is it about the office that causes us to prefer calling in sick, staying in bed, or hiding out for months on end rather than be doing the very thing that God called us to do with his good creation in the first place? Maybe going into the office really was the curse of our dislocation. It seems that work really was the result of our crimes.

Scripture makes it plain in Genesis 2 that work was given to humanity and work was right. But instead of work as we know it, work initially was not about providing for our essential needs like food and shelter. For our first parents, work was art. It was labor to design, cultivate, and express dominion over the established place of God. It was an effort to put decorations and details on the first place of God.

Occasionally, there are projects that I get to spend time working on that are sheer pleasure. They do not provide food for my table or pay off the mortgage. Instead they are labors of love. Tonight my daughter interrupted my writing and asked me to assemble her new LEGO stables. Some 2,000 pieces (and many of them very tiny) and two hours later, we were done. It wasn't anything I was paid to do, but it was still work. And I loved it. This is what going to the office was originally about: forming, cultivating, and managing creatively what God had made. It was art.

Then came the dislocating break of our rebellion. We didn't want to be artists painting on God's canvas. We wanted to make our own canvas. With it came the curse that now plagues our work. Instead of having everything we needed for life, we had to labor to stay alive. Where we were once amply supplied by God, now we were forced to have our cake and eat it, too. We wanted to work independently from God and he allowed it. We have to work to stay alive. This is the daily reality of our rebellion and the curse.

The office lost all of its delight. We found productivity flittered away by thorns and thistles. The soil we needed to survive was dry, hard, and unyielding. Making an existence from day-to-day, paycheck-to-paycheck became our work, and that was where work lost all its art.

Maybe this is why no one feels like going to work in the morning. Mondays are synonymous with the death of our freedom, independence, and life. Work is death and no one likes it. We spend our youth preparing to work, our best years working away, and then end up dying from our work. As the preacher of Ecclesiastes wonders, "What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?" (Ecc. 1:3). This is the blatant effect of our sin and the curse. The office is a den of death.

This is why my friends Bonnie and Brandon don't see the progress of patients recovering to complete health. It's the reason why the hours and hours Eric spends designing aircraft feel fruitless. It's why Andy works a job he doesn’t really desire so that he can put food on the table. It is why, although we seem to see developments in technology, science, politics, economics and the like, nothing seems to be getting better.

Work as Role or Identity?

Is there redemption for our offices? Although we believe in a gospel that saves our souls, could we imagine Christ redeeming our workplaces as well? Could there be salvation for the office too? Yes, but only if we look to the work of Christ. For so many, our work has transitioned itself from a role we were given to an identity we possess. Work became who we are instead of something we do.

The proof of this is found when you meet someone new. Introduce yourself to someone you don't know and the likelihood of you identifying yourself by what you do is very high. Usually we start with our name (“I'm Jeremy”) followed by what we do (“I'm a pastor”). We weigh the value of our lives by our work. The important people are the ones with the great jobs, the large incomes, the high-yield, high-capacity productions. Those who achieve their vocational dreams are the great ones. Those who fail at attaining those degrees are just "working for the man." We live and die by our jobs and their perceived successes and failures.

That's why we need a relocation. Our identity must be shifted away from what we do to who we are. We must be redeemed from perverting our role as workers into our identity as workers.

I find it wonderful that Jesus didn't come with an identity-issue about his work. He knew who he was, the Son of God. He knew what his job was, to give his life as a ransom for many (Mk. 10:45). He didn't have the two confused. And so he came, reminded of his identity by his Father (1:11) to do the work he was sent to do (1:15). He came to do the work we could not do. In substituting himself for us, he worked to fulfilled the Law at every point and win perfect righteousness for us. By standing in our place, he did the work of satisfying God's wrath and removing our sin by dying on the cross for us. In such, he glorified his father and accomplished the work he was sent to do (Jn. 17:5).

Jesus didn't take work away from us. He redeemed us from a life of finding our identity in our work. He didn't live, die, and rise to life again so that we could skip out on the office or marketplace. He lived, died, and arose to life again so that we would glorify him at our office, not worship our office. Instead of living to fulfill the identities we find in our work, Jesus gives us a new identity, his brothers and sisters, so that we can go to work, not to earn an identity but to rest from identity seeking. We go into the office as kingdom citizens to create, cultivate, develop, and design all that the King owns for the King's glory.

Who Are You Working For?

One of the most frustrating aspects of work, beyond the inefficiencies and futility of fruitless work, is the people we work for. Just as we struggle with deep authority issues in relationship with God, we continue to struggle with the authority issues we have with our employers and supervisors. Our bosses can be tyrants, ogres, and despots all in one eight-hour shift. For those of us who are fortunate enough to have a decent boss, we still buckle, from time to time, under the difficulty of not always seeing eye-to-eye. We all have bad days with our superiors.

For Kingdom citizens, the presence of the King in our workplaces deeply alters the way we see our bosses. Paul calls Kingdom citizens to see their work in this light by calling servants to be obedient and submissive to their superiors as if they were serving the King himself (Col. 3:22-24). The renovated heart goes beyond just obedience as a people-pleaser, or giving appearance as such, and calls the citizens of the Kingdom to obey with sincerity while fearing the Lord.

My fighter-jet-engineering friend Randy told me one day of a meeting with his superiors. In the meeting over the design of the jet, his boss became rather irate and excessively direct about a particular portion of the jet's design. Randy was given clear directions that the design of the jet should in every way be "from scratch." It was as if his company wanted to be the Wright brothers all over again and invent flight, this time on the scale of a fighter jet. As Randy debated for particular design similarities, his boss became more and more indignant about the uniqueness of the design. As Randy listened and considered, he knew that he had a responsibility to obey his boss and honor Christ. It didn't make sense, but it was right. It was only later that he discovered his boss’s reasons and Randy ended up benefiting his company and business by his obedience.

This is the kind of renovating work the King does. He transforms his people from rebellious people-pleasers to sincere Kingdom-servants. Work is transformed by the way we work for the ones set in authority over us (1 Pt. 2:13-25).

Working Hard, Working Well

While obedience to our superiors is a kingdom value, is this all that a renovation of our work places brings about? Are we to just be dutiful drones at the jobs in which we take no delight? Does the gospel speak to what we spend our working lives doing? Is there a Kingdom renovation to be done with regard to occupations and vocations? Can a kingdom citizen find the art in their work once again?

Like the false dichotomy of the material and spiritual, bad religion created another dichotomy with regard to our work; sacred and secular. Those that worked jobs in the sacred realms of the church were the ones who worked within a higher calling. They had the blessing of God, treasure in heaven, and a trophy of accomplishing something that lasts for eternity to put on their mantle. For the bankers, butchers, and builders (also known as secular workers), there was the glib promise that one day they could go to heaven and maybe be a worship leader and really please God. However, their vocations and their work were sub-eternal and a less than great calling. What does God need with someone who can carve meat anyway? To this day, it's not too hard to find churches and Christians who still practically affirm this position.

But the Scriptures never affirm a sacred/secular vocational divide. Rather, the word of the King is that "whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord" (Col 3:23). Those three words, "whatever you do," are a major blow to any scared/secular mentality. In those words, the King affirms the unique occupations of Kingdom citizens. Whether it's banking, broadcasting, auto sales, brewing coffee, serving tables, or working at homemaking, the King authorizes his citizens to work well in what they do. He affirms the value of every occupation that cultivates, develops, and advances his authority in his Kingdom. This includes building bridges, teaching children, accounting financial assets, diagnosing physical diseases, and baking pies.

How is this so? How does the bakery become a Kingdom place? First, by the way in which we work. Paul says "whatever you do, do it heartily." There is a way in which Kingdom citizens work for the King. They, by their presence at their work, demonstrate God's nature. They reveal the God who worked hard at the creating of all things; a God who put his full wisdom and glory and creativity into play as he made all things. By the way they work, they show an industrious, productive, intelligent God. They show a God who didn't take short-cuts, who didn't get lazy on the job, and who didn't "phone it in" in his work of creation and redemption.

Second, they also show a Kingdom value in the trajectory of their work. They work "as for the Lord." Their work is aimed at pleasing the King himself. How does an aerospace engineer design planes for the Lord? By making the best planes he can. By using the wisdom and understanding and knowledge the King has gifted him with to understand the laws of nature and develop means by which the creation can be advanced to serve people. How does a baker make pies for the Lord? By baking in such a way that the King himself would enjoy her pies. By baking with a mind to serve her fellow humanity as they delight in the excellent tastes of the pie. They both please the Lord by being creative, honest, diligent, and excellent in their various occupations.

There is a further implication of the resurrection of Jesus here for us in our work. The resurrection of Jesus was his coronation and enthronement as King over all kings. Everything is being brought under subjection to him as King (Ps. 8:6, 1 Cor. 15:27). Our work, done in the name of the King and for the King is participating with him in bringing all things under his authority. The way we develop technology, or manage resources, or develop business strategies, or cook meals, or build houses, or any innumerable sorts of occupations are bringing all things under subjection to Christ. The computer programmer who develops software to advance communication can see himself as utilizing technology for the sake of the King and the advancement of his Kingdom. The doctor who develops wise and resourceful medical practices is bringing the field of medicine under the realm of the King when she does so to keep, preserve and enhance life. The teacher who works with fourth graders is bringing a classroom of students under the dominion of Christ, but educating her class about the physical and moral laws that govern the world in which we live in. All things are brought to rest under the Lordship of Christ as the resurrected King.

As such, the renovating work of the King brings us to our offices (or classrooms or kitchens or laboratories, or whatever we call the space we work in) to work hard and to work for him. He calls us into every sphere of life and vocation to develop and deploy our gifts to show His authority and dominion over all things. He must have workers in every vocation to demonstrate all things are for his glory, even the offices that we spend our days working in. By our work we display an ever-present King in every place.

—

Jeremy Writebol(@jwritebol) has been training leaders in the church for over thirteen years. He is the author of everPresent: How the Gospel Relocates Us in the Present (GCD Books, 2014) and writes at jwritebol.net. He lives and works in Plymouth, MI as the Campus Pastor of Woodside Bible Church.

Counsel One Another with Good News

Church: Love Poised between Faith and Hope

As Paul provides spiritual counsel for the troubled and confused Colossian Christians, he doesn’t envision them alone. Instead, he envisions them together “as God’s chosen people” (Col. 3:12) and “as members of one body” (Col. 3:15) — the church. Paul includes these words of one-another minis- try in the context of growth in grace (Col. 3:1 – 11) because sanctification is a Christ-centered community journey. “We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ” (Col. 1:28).

In Paul’s letter of spiritual counsel, he does not move directly from Redemption to Consummation. Instead, he teaches that we find ourselves as the church living between two comings — the first and the second coming of Christ. We are poised between looking back with faith in our Redeemer and looking forward with hope as we await his return as Conquering Groom. What is our role in this dramatic waiting epoch?7 God calls us to speak and live truth in love.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. (Col. 3:12 – 14, emphasis added)

And how is the church to love one another? “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom” (Col. 3:16). Where does the church find wisdom for life in a broken world? In God’s Word, where the grand gospel narrative is told. We are to build wisdom’s house together as the redemptive narrative dwells deeply within each of us and overflows lovingly between us.

What has the church to say and do that no other human institution can say and do? We are the Jesus-centered community that speaks gospel truth in love to one another in such a way that it opens a door for sharing the gospel message (Col. 4:3). In God’s grand narrative drama, the church is, as Kevin Vanhoozer pictures it, the theater of the gospel. We are to perform the gospel in our one-another relationships with the world as our audience so that they will ask us for a reason for the faith, hope, and love they witness (Col. 4:4 – 7; 1 Peter 3:15). As the church we are to embody communion with God and one another in a manner that entices and invites others to join in.

Consummation: The Way Is Won; The Bride is Wed

The Bible’s narrative presents life as a war and a wedding, that we can capture the Bible’s drama as “slay the dragon, marry the damsel.” To people beaten down by sin and beaten up by suffering, Paul says, “Let me tell you the rest of the story — the end of the story. We were under Satan’s domain of utter darkness. Helpless and hopeless, Christ has rescued us. Just as earthly rulers transplant a conquered people from one country to another, so Christ has transplanted us from our earthly citizenship to our heavenly citizenship. But he transplants us not from liberty into slavery, but from slavery into liberty. He transplants us not out of darkness into semi-darkness, but out of dismal blindness into marvelous light. He’s disarmed his enemies and ours, triumphing over them by the cross” (Col. 1:13; 2:14 – 15).

Paul not only pulls back the curtain to show us the end of the war, he also shows us the beginning of the wedding. “But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, with- out blemish and free from accusation” (Col. 1:22). This is almost identical to Paul’s wording in Ephesians 5:25–27 where his focus is on Christ’s love for the church, providing the example for a husband’s love for his wife. This is wedding language!

Paul is letting us eavesdrop on eternity. Just like John does. “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear” (Rev. 19:6 – 8). The victory is announced. God reigns! The wedding march starts. All the scars and blemishes of sin are cleansed. The bride wears white!

Paul and John share the same message: “The war is won! The bride is wed!” Both messages communicate the same point: the gospel is about God radically changing people. The war Christ wins for us provides victory over sin and Satan where once we were their slaves. The wedding Christ prepares us for produces purity where there once was sin and shame. And it is all for God’s glory.

This victory narrative forms the foundation of our counsel and changes the agenda of our counseling. Typically we ask God and seek help from each other to change our feelings and our circumstances. God is in the change business, but a very different type of change — heart change, Christlikeness — presenting everyone “perfect,” or mature, in Christ (Col. 1:28).

Listen to the song of eternity — it’s about celebrating Christ’s victory and the Bride’s purity for God’s glory! We look at our lives and want instructions or explanations. What we need is imagination and vision to see life today in light of eternity.

Gospel-centered counseling highlights both Good Friday and Easter — the cross and the resurrection. The gospel message is not like the White Witch’s evil rule over Narnia, where it is always winter and never Christmas. The gospel narrative is Christ’s holy and loving shepherding of the universe where it is always spring and always Easter!

Confidence as a counselor begins with how we view the Bible. The central message of the Bible is God’s announcement of our past, present, and future victory in Christ. Because God so loved us, he sent his Son to slay the dragon and marry the damsel — the Bride of Christ — us!

The Good News as the End of the Story

Though the outcome of the war is sure, skirmishes continue. When our current dreams are dashed, when we surrender yet again to another temptation, we must remind ourselves that we’ve read the end of the story.

The grand narrative of the Bible shows that life makes sense. History is moving toward a God-ordained purpose. More than that, the stories of our lives have purpose. God is directing all of history toward the final defeat of evil, toward happily ever after, toward his people ruling with him and in relationship with him.

Christ’s triumph in the drama of redemption guides our interactions in our one-another ministry. We engage one another in gospel conversations, encouraging each other to ponder: “Why give up when we lose one battle, since we know we have won the war?” “Why choose mere survival, when we are more than conquerors?” “Why choose the cheap thrills of the pleasure of sin for a season when in the end we rule the universe forever dressed in pure white robes?”

— Bob Kellemen, Th.M., Ph.D., Bob is the Executive Director of the Biblical Counseling Coalition, the Vice President for Institutional Development and Chair of the Biblical Counseling Department at Crossroads Bible College, and the Founder and CEO of RPM Ministries. For seventeen years he served as the founding Chairman of and Professor in the MA in Christian Counseling and Discipleship department at Capital Bible Seminary in Lanham, MD. Bob has pastored three churches and equipped biblical counselors in each church. Bob and his wife, Shirley, have been married for thirty-four years; they have two adult children, Josh and Marie, one daughter-in-law, Andi, and two granddaughters, Naomi and Penelope. Dr. Kellemen is the author of thirteen books including Gospel-Centered Counseling, Gospel-Conversations, and Equipping Counselors for Your Church.

From Gospel-Centered Counseling by Dr. Bob Kellemen. Used by permission of author.

“I Could Tell You Some Stories . . . ”

“I could tell you some stories . . . ”

Remarked Charlie, before he was cut off by his next door neighbor Barton,

“Sure you could and yet many writers do everything in their power to insulate themselves from the common man, from where they live, from where they trade, from where they fight and love and converse and . . . ”

Barton was a writer who just moved from New York City to Hollywood to write for the motion pictures. His work and passion was the plight of the “common man” in America—the working class, regular “human experience.” The crowd that knew nothing of the world of the elite intelligentsia that Barton was a member. His first Broadway play, Bare Ruined Choirs, all about the “common man,” was a smashing success on Broadway. So much of a success that he landed himself a deal in Hollywood. So he left for California to share his stories of “the common man” with the masses.

The only problem is that Barton didn’t know the first thing about “the common man” and was so wrapped up in his vision of “the common man” that when a common man, like Charlie, wants to tell him about his life he is too involved in himself to listen.

Now, if this sounds familiar, it’s because you’ve sat through the strange, brilliant Coen Brothers film Barton Fink. An odd little flick about delusion, disillusion, and writer’s block.

I resonate with the scene above between Barton (John Turturro) and Charlie (John Goodman) more than I’d like to. It’s a convicting, albeit subtle, picture of how I tend to treat people.

Good Stories Breed Humility

I think I know way more about things than I actually do. My theology is airtight (or, at least I think it is). I’m decent at arguing, and I really want to fit things into my neat and tidy classifications. But a good story—a good movie—won’t let you do that.

In the last one hundred and twenty years the medium of the motion picture (movie) has become, arguably, the most popular and powerful way to communicate in story form. Usually running anywhere from twenty-odd minutes to eight plus hours long, a film creates a distinct reality and tells a story (or series of stories) in that reality. Sometimes that reality is real life. Sometimes it’s a galaxy far far away.

Film has been a part of my life in an important way since I saw The White Balloon when I was about ten. I remember being blown away by how different the main character was than me. But at the same time, how similar. I thought I would have reacted just as the main character might have in the same situation—though I could never have imagined actually being in those situations (e.g., living in Iran, navigating a market in streets of Tehran). The story about an unremarkable person navigating an unremarkable situation somehow captured the beauty, emotions, and struggles of life in a remarkable way.

Since then, movies have been more than just entertainment to me. They’ve helped me understand my humanity—the backdrop for understanding the gospel.

I struggle to know what exactly it means to be human. I mean, yes, my “worldview” tells me the facts: created in the image of God, totally depraved, saved by Jesus, Jesus is marking me more like him—but meanwhile life is hard and I need a nap, one day I will die, then I’ll be with Jesus forever. But understanding those facts personally, hopefully, and joyfully is another story. My worldview is often just “life is hard and I usually need a nap.” I forget the beginning, most of the middle, and the end.

More than teaching new things, movies usually serve to remind us of what we already know in beautiful ways. Good movies remind me of what it means to be human—and above all, what it mean’s to be rescued by grace.

Films like The White Balloon and It’s a Wonderful Life remind me that it’s okay to be ordinary because there is something deeply, divinely extraordinary about the ordinary grind of work, family, and sacrifice. Something like Jeff Nichols’ 2007 film Shotgun Stories reminds me that I will never outgrow my need for grace because things will never (in this life) be fully as they were intended to be. Even a movie like Wolf of Wall Street reminds me that the atrocities of humanity deserve God’s wrath, myself included and indicted.

Not the Whole Story

Movies usually don’t tell whole story, but they tell stories that reflect the whole story.

In Mike Cosper’s new book The Stories We Tell, he masterfully articulates how the TV shows and movies we love give us glimpses into the human heart, created in the Image of God. A good movie “aims at the imagination,” says Cosper, “a much more mysterious and sneaky part of us, ruled by love, desire, and hope.”

For Christians, it can be tempting to be fearful or dismissive of these sorts of incomplete stories where the echo is somewhat faint, especially when they seem (on the surface) to contradict Christian values. But in reality a good film, uninhibited by pretense, can be a robust vehicle for gospel transformation. Alissa Wilkinson, the chief film critic at Christianity Today puts it this way,

“We tend to treat actual cultural artifacts in the way we sometimes treat the Bible: as ‘proof texts’ from which we can draw principles or truths for application. Though we love the Bible, we evangelicals in particular have often treated verses as if they stand alone, forgetting that the story in which they appear speaks just as much as the verses themselves.

Similarly, Christian critics can lean (lazily) into the idea that products of culture mainly exist as object lessons to be turned into ‘truths’ when we talk about them and figure out how they do or don’t line up with our beliefs.”

Instead of interacting with stories and people for what they are, it’s too easy to get upset because they are not as we want them to be.

We treat people like the media we produce. As we proof text media or Scripture, we end up proof texting people. “Post-moderns,” “liberals,” “fundamentalists,” or “millennials” become a standard way to disengage with the nitty-gritty humanness of the people around us.

The Gospel That Listens

But the gospel doesn’t operate in labels. God extends grace to unique, broken individuals. The only qualification for believing the gospel is honesty. Honestly acknowledging our need and inability to accept God’s grace and adoption. Like God’s questioning of Job in Job 38, we don’t need to have all the answers we just need to know who does.

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, Or who laid its cornerstone, When the morning stars sang together And all the sons of God shouted for joy?” (Job 38:4-7)

A good movie won’t always reveal the whole systematic truth of life, but if you look closely, it can reveal glimpses of the Creator of truth.

These glimpses—taken for what they are and not just what we want them to be—have the ability to challenge, soften, and enlighten us. They give us lenses to understand different aspects of the human experience.

That scene in Barton Fink, remember, from our opening, isn’t profound because I’m trying to make it as a writer in Hollywood but because, in one way or another, I have many people around me, Christians and non-Christians, saying to me “I could tell you some stories . . . ”

By God’s grace, I’m learning to listen to those stories for what they are just as I’m learning to see movies for what they are—the image of God mixed with our humanity, humanly told.

—

Nick Rynerson lives in the west suburbs of Chicago with his groovy wife, Jenna. He is a staff writer for Christ and Pop Culture and a marketing coordinator at Crossway. Connect with him on Twitter @nick_rynerson or via email.

Sent into the Harvest: Halloween on Mission

What if a crisp October wind blew through “the way we’ve always done things” at Halloween? What if the Spirit stirred in us a new perspective on October 31? What if dads led their households in a fresh approach to Halloween as Christians on mission? What if spreading a passion for God’s supremacy in all things included Halloween — that amalgamation of wickedness now the second-largest commercial holiday in the West?

Loving Others and Extending Grace

What if we didn’t think of ourselves as “in the world, but not of it,” but rather, as Jesus says in John 17, “not of the world, but sent into it”?

And what if that led us to move beyond our squabbles about whether or not we’re free to celebrate All Hallows’ Eve, and the main issue became whether our enjoyment of Jesus and his victory over Satan and the powers of darkness might incline us to think less about our private enjoyments and more about how we might love others? What if we took Halloween captive — along with “every thought” (2 Corinthians 10:5) — as an opportunity for gospel advance and bringing true joy to the unbelieving?

And what if those of us taking this fresh approach to Halloween recognized that Christians hold a variety of views about Halloween, and we gave grace to those who see the day differently than we do?

Without Naiveté or Retreat

What if we didn’t merely go with the societal flow and unwittingly float with the cultural tide into and out of yet another Halloween? What if we didn’t observe the day with the same naïveté as our unbelieving neighbors and coworkers?

And what if we didn’t overreact to such nonchalance by simply withdrawing? What if Halloween wasn’t a night when Christians retreated in disapproval, but an occasion for storming the gates of hell?

The Gospel Trick

What if we ran Halloween through the grid of the gospel and pondered whether there might be a third path beyond naïveté and retreat? What if we took the perspective that all of life, Halloween included, is an opportunity for gospel advance? What if we saw Halloween not as a retreat but as a kind of gospel trick — an occasion to extend Christ’s cause on precisely the night when Satan may feel his strongest?

What if we took to the offensive on Halloween? Isn’t this how our God loves to show himself mighty? Just when the devil has a good head of steam, God, like a skilled ninja, uses the adversary’s body weight against him. It’s Satan’s own inertia that drives the stake into his heart. Just like the cross. It’s a kind of divine “trick”: Precisely when the demonic community thinks for sure they have Jesus cornered, he delivers the deathblow. Wasn’t it a Halloween-like gathering of darkness and demonic festival at Golgotha, the place of the Skull, when the God-man “disarmed the powers and authorities [and] made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them” at the cross (Colossians 2:15)?

Marching on Hell

What if we were reminded that Jesus, our invincible hero, will soon crush Satan under our feet (Romans 16:20)? What if we really believed deep down that our Jesus has promised with absolute certainty, “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matthew 16:18). What if we realized that the gates-of-hell thing isn’t a picture of a defensive church straining to hold back the progressing Satanic legions, but rather an offensive church, on the move, advancing against the cowering, cornered kingdom of darkness? What if the church is the side building the siegeworks? What if the church is marching forward, and Jesus is leading his church on an aggressive campaign against the stationary and soon-to-collapse gates of hell? What if we didn’t let Halloween convince us for a minute that it’s otherwise?

What if Ephesians 6:12 reminded us that “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic power over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places”? What if we remembered that it’s not our increasingly post-Christian society’s Halloween revelers who are our enemies, but that our real adversary is the one who has blinded them, and that we spite Satan as we rescue unbelievers with the word of the cross?

Resisting the Devil

What posture would Jesus have us take when we are told that our “adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8)? Naïveté? Retreat? Rather: “Resist him, firm in your faith” (verse 9). What if we had the gospel gall to trust Jesus for this promise: “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” (James 4:7)? And what if resistance meant not only holding our ground, but taking his?

What if we hallowed Jesus at Halloween by pursuing gospel advance and going lovingly on the attack? What if, like Martin Luther, we didn’t cower in fear, but saw October 31 as a chance to serve notice to the threshold of evil? What if we didn’t turn out our lights as if hiding, but left a flaming bag on the very doorstep of the King of Darkness himself?

Orienting on Others

What if we saw October 31 not merely as an occasion for asking self-oriented questions about our participation (whether we should or shouldn’t dress the kids up or carve pumpkins), but for pursuing others-oriented acts of love? What if we capitalized on the opportunity to take a step forward in an ongoing process of witnessing to our neighbors, co-workers, and extended families about who Jesus is and what he accomplished at Calvary for the wicked like us?

What if we resolved not to join the darkness by keeping our porch lights off? What if we didn’t deadbolt our doors, but handed out the best treats in the neighborhood as a faint echo of the kind of grace our Father extends to us sinners?

Giving the Good Candy

What if thinking evangelistically about Halloween didn’t mean dropping tracts into children’s bags, but the good candy — and seeing the evening as an opportunity to cultivate relationships with the unbelieving as part of an ongoing process in which we plainly identify with Jesus, get to know them well, and personally speak the good news of our Savior into their lives?

And what if we made sure to keep reminding ourselves that our supreme treasure isn’t our subjective zeal for the mission, but our Jesus and his objective accomplishment for us?

The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. – Jesus in Matthew 9:37–38

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David Mathis (@davidcmathis) is executive editor at desiringGod.org and an elder at Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minneapolis. He has edited several books, including Thinking. Loving. Doing., Finish the Mission, and Acting the Miracle, and is co-author of How to Stay Christian in Seminary.

Originally posted at DesiringGod.org. Used with permission.

Battling the Idolatry of Insecurity

What was your middle school experience like? To most people, that question will make them cringe. It conjures up all sorts of awkwardness and feelings of insecurity. As someone who consistently struggles with insecurity, many of my days are spent feeling like a frail middle schooler: perpetually in a state of crippling self-doubt and anxiety.

You may not struggle with insecurity as much as I do, but we all have it. I'm assuming most of us would not consider it a virtue. So, how should we fight it?

I was curious how our Westernized, self-help culture would combat this problem, so I investigated some pop psychology blogs to see what they said. What I found were all sorts of strategies to cope with insecurity, things like:

• "Remember your successes instead of your failures."
• "Visualize only good things happening to you."
• "Pursue something you're good at."
• "Surround yourself with only positive people."

There was even one blog that advocated creating a “self-esteem file.”

"It’s a collection of anything anyone has ever said, written, indicated that can be categorized as positive. Someone says something shallow like, ‘I like your shoes.’ Sure, put it in there, with a note ‘I have good taste in shoes.’ Another person mutters, ‘Dude, thanks for listening.’ That goes in there as well: ‘I am a good listener.’”

Ridiculous, right? Here's the thing: I've tried all of these before! So hear me when I say that I found them all lacking. They may bring short-term relief, but they are not solutions, only band-aids. Self-esteem only goes so far because we never live up to our own standards. If our record exclusively informs our view of worth, then we will never feel secure.

Veiled Schemes of Self-Righteousness

We usually think of pride and insecurity as antonyms but they are more like synonyms in this sense: both are veiled schemes of self-righteousness. Pride is thinking too high of oneself and insecurity is thinking too low of oneself, but both put an improper focus on the self. You see, the solution to insecurity is to not look inward but upward.

"The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold” (Psalm 18:2). Sound secure enough for you? Seriously, could there be any stronger anthem for the insecure to proclaim than that? In Christ, there is no need to be self-righteous because we have been given righteousness (2 Cor. 5:21). We are adopted sons and daughters (Eph. 1:5) and God lavishes his love upon us so much so that we can never be separated from him (Rom. 8:38-39). There is no condemnation in Christ (Rom. 8:1) and God effectually says to us what he said to Jesus, "You are my beloved child in whom I am well pleased” (Mk. 1:11). That’s something we can lean into. That’s something that can bear the weight of our self-doubt. That’s where we should find our confidence, security, and significance.

Tim Keller in The Freedom of Self Forgetfulness describes what life would look like if we lived out this gospel-shaped vision of identity:

“Friends, wouldn’t you want to be a person who does not need honour — nor is afraid of it? Someone who does not lust for recognition — nor, on the other hand, is frightened to death of it? Don’t you want to be the kind of person who, when they see themselves in a mirror or reflected in a shop window, does not admire what they see but does not cringe either? Wouldn’t you like to be the type of person who, in their imaginary life, does not sit around fantasizing about hitting self-esteem home-runs, daydreaming about successes that gives them the edge over others?"

Yes, yes, and yes!

The Idolatry of Insecurity

Martyn Lloyd-Jones once wrote, "Most of the unhappiness in your life is because you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself." When your inner middle-schooler comes out, preach to yourself. Don’t battle the idolatry of insecurity with shallow tricks of bolstering your self-esteem. Instead, boldly declare the above-mentioned gospel cues and let the good news soak into your soul. Take confidence and lean into the Savior, knowing that only he can bear the weight. After all, combating insecurity is a discipleship issue. Jesus once told his followers that they must deny themselves to follow him (Matt. 16:24-25). For the insecure (and those discipling the insecure), the focus must be on death to find life—death to the doubts, fears and misplaced sources of significance and life in our grace-giving God.

If there is one redeeming quality to insecurity, it is this: it points us to our need. My prayer for you and myself is that every time it whispers its doubt we will be prompted to turn our eyes upon Jesus.

"Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Ps. 139:23-24).

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Tim Briggs, his wife Jenni, and their three sons Cooper, Graden and Cayson live in Charlotte, NC. Tim is the Creative Media Pastor at Church at Charlotte and is attending classes at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. Twitter: @timbriggshere.

Christians Can Be Terrible

Christians can be terrible. As a reader of the New Testament, this doesn’t surprise me. One of the major premises of the Christian faith is that humans are so flawed, so broken, so rebellious, and so unable to redeem themselves that the eternal Son had to incarnate himself, live, die, and rise again in order to fix them (Romans 1-8). I suppose what does shock me is that Christians are still surprised when other Christians are terrible. For instance, every time some news report comes out about a pastoral failure, or a fiasco in Evangelical culture, or abuse in the Church, it’s common to see Christians of various stripes updating and bewailing said fiasco. While that’s fine, and probably necessary to some degree, the one attitude I find myself chafing at rather regularly is the “I don’t know if I can call myself a Christian” anymore impulse.

It’s as if this person were introduced to Christianity by having them read bits of Acts, without reading Paul, the Gospels, or heck, even the rest of Acts. As if they were promised a Christianity with nice, cleaned up people, with perfectly cleaned up story arcs where all the sin is “back there” in the past, never to rear its ugly head, so that you don’t have the bear the ignominy of being associated with such foul stupidity and wickedness. Then when they meet real Christians–you know, the sinning kind–they suffer a sort of whiplash on contact.

Wickedness in the New Testament Church

Well, in order to prevent the kind of whiplash I’m talking about, I’d like to present an incomplete list of sins, wicked behaviors, or assorted troubling phenomena that the New Testament notes happening in the early years—in just 1 Corinthians alone:

• Arguments about personality cults (ch. 1-4)
• Lawsuits between believers (ch. 5)
• Incest, or sexual immorality so gross that even the pagans are shocked (ch. 5-6)
• Visiting prostitutes, or sexuality that’s basically just pagan (ch. 6)
• Bizarre confusion about the church’s teaching on marriage and sexuality (ch. 7)
• Confusion on gender issues in relation to culture (ch. 11)\
• Inequality and pride based on social and economic distinction (ch. 11)
• People getting drunk at church before communion (ch. 11)
• Gross spiritual pride related to the gifts (ch. 12-14)
• Confusion on eschatology and core theological issues like the resurrection of Christ (ch. 15)

How about some other Pauline epistles?

• Syncretism and mix and match spirituality (Col 1)
• Legalism and false ascetic restrictions (Col 2; Rom 14)
• Ethnic particularism and pride (Galatians)
• Arguments between solid, believing Christians (Phil 4)
• False teachers perverting doctrine and lying about godly pastors (2 Cor 10)
• Free-loaders who won’t work, but leach off the community (1-2 Thes)

Honestly, we could just keep going for a while here. These are the kinds of things that the authors of the New Testament, the Apostles who regularly performed miracles and such, had to warn their congregations about.

Now, there is a real sense in which these things “don’t happen” among Christians. D.A. Carson, when talking about the statement in 1 John 3:9 “no one who is born of God will continue to sin,” told a story about an old teacher he had. The teacher would say in class, “We do not chew gum here.” Now, the force of the statement is such to say that, “as a rule, gum-chewing is forbidden and we take it seriously.” Still, he wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t for the fact that people regularly tried, and occasionally did, end up chewing gum in class. In the same way, Christians do not, and should not sin in the various ways I listed above. At the same time, though, if Paul, or John, or Jesus, are warning about them, clearly they have happened in church. What’s more, apparently these are the kinds of warnings they expected might come in handy for future believers as well, otherwise they wouldn’t be in Scripture (1 Cor 10).

He Saves All Sorts

All that said, I suppose I want to say a few things.

First, yes, sin in the life of the believer is many senses shocking. It’s shocking in its flagrance. It’s shocking in its ingratitude towards the Savior. It’s shocking in its resistance to the Holy Spirit who now empowers the believer to a life of obedience. It’s shocking because sin, at core, makes no sense. Yet should it be surprising? Not to anyone who has taken the time to read the New Testament it shouldn’t be.

Second, keep in mind Jesus tends to save all sorts. He saves people from healthy family situations that predisposes them towards basic, moral, sociability that we enjoy. He also saves people out of broken social situations, drugs, prostitution. He saves them out of hyper-religious legalism. He saves them out of sexual addiction and rage. Given all the different pits Jesus manages to drag people out of, don’t be surprised to see varieties of dirt and muck still clinging to them as he sets himself to the slow task of cleaning them up again.

Finally, have a care for your own pride. As Paul says,

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 1:26-31)

Remember where you came from. You weren’t on the spiritual a-team either. You’re still not. And yet you don’t want to be “associated” with those people because you’re name is such a big deal? Paul says to us here, “if your name is anything, it’s only because ‘in Christ’ you have gained wisdom, righteousness, and so forth. It is because holy Jesus was willing to identify himself with what is low, foolish, sinful and broken”–you know, you and I. If you have any great shame, any great disgust at the sin of your fellow believer, make sure it is because you care about his Name, not yours.

And then praise his Name when you remember he’s willing to share it with all sorts.

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Derek Rishmawy is the Director of College and Young Adult ministries at Trinity United Presbyterian Church in Orange County, CA. He got his B.A. in Philosophy at UCI and his M.A.T.S. (Biblical Studies) at APU. He also contributes at the Gospel Coalition, Mere Orthodoxy, and Leadership Journal, as well as his own Reformedish blog.

Original posted at DerekZRishmawy.com. Used with permission.

Evangelism After Christendom

Evangelism is something many Christians are trying to recover from. The word stirs up memories of a bygone era—Christendom—where rehearsed presentations, awkward door-to-door witnessing, a steady flow of tracts, and conversions in revival-like settings were commonplace. As American culture becomes increasingly fragmented and secularized, these forms of evangelism create an impediment to the gospel. Wave after wave of rationalistic, rehearsed (and at times coerced and confrontational) evangelism inoculates, if not antagonizes, the broader culture. The gospel is slowly associated with forceful Christians who are information-driven, looking to get Jesus off their chest. As a result, evangelism is viewed as an attempt to recruit converts, not love your neighbor. In response, Hollywood has taken up its own evangelistic message in documentaries like Jesus Camp and Philomena and films like There Will Be Blood, Saved! and Believe Me. The public has been disaffected by our evangelism.

Learning A New Language

What should evangelism look like after Christendom? To answer that question, we must recognize that twentieth-century American evangelism worked because the culture was largely familiar with Christianity. It included many assumptions, such as the brute fact of absolute truth, the existence of heaven and hell (or God for that matter), and a widely held notion that sin keeps us from God. We can no longer assume this understanding. The cultural shift away from Christianity has resulted in a loss of theological vocabulary. People don’t understand what we are saying. It’s as if we are speaking a foreign language.

Many Christian teachings and assumptions are fuzzy, even questionable to those outside the faith. Calling people to “repent and believe in Jesus” is typically misconstrued as “stop doing bad things, start doing good things (like Jesus did), and God will save you.” This, of course, has nothing to do with the gospel and leaves us disconnected from our culture. There is a considerable gap between the gospel communicator and the receptor culture. This gap is filled with all sorts of things that prevent effective gospel witness, including theological misunderstandings, politicized Christianity, bigoted religion, and unbelievable forms of evangelism. How can we cut through the cultural confusion in order to communicate a clear, winsome gospel message? Like missionaries in a foreign country, we inhabit a new mission field. We need to relearn the language, discover redemptive analogies, and reacquaint people with the true Christian story.

How the News is Good

A fundamental question in evangelism is often overlooked: “How is the gospel good news to those we evangelize?”

Not what is the good news, but how is our news good for others? Christians are often proficient at rehearsing the information of the gospel, but we often lack the ability to relate the gospel to the lives of others. If we are to overcome obstacles to evangelism, we must be able to answer this question: “What does the death and resurrection of a first-century Jewish messiah have to do with twenty-first-century people?”

How does the gospel transform the self-righteous do-gooder, the skeptical urbanite, the distant spouse, the successful professional, and the strung-out addict?

Getting to a Believable Gospel

We need to recover a believable evangelism, one that moves beyond the cultural and personal barriers we have erected in contemporary evangelism to rediscover the power of the biblical gospel. What makes the gospel believable? Rather than a one-size-fits-all message, we need to hold the gospel up to the light and see its various gospel metaphors—justification, union with Christ, redemption, adoption, and new creation—in light of various cultural identities and longings. These metaphors can function like redemptive analogies. If we listen to people long enough, we will uncover deep gospel longings, that manifest uniquely in secular culture, and call people to turn and put their faith in only one who can fulfill those longings. Here are a few examples.

1. Seekers of Acceptance

One of the greatest needs people have today is to be accepted, to know they are welcome and won’t be rejected. This is particularly true in entrepreneurial or honor and shame cultures. People who are driven to perform well in school, work, and family life are often seeking acceptance from themselves or others. Though they may try to deny or hide it, these kinds of people often carry a sense of shame, a fear that they will be found out, rejected, and judged when they fall short. Urban professionals worship in the temple of the city, students bow before the almighty “A,” and families strive to live up to a cultural dream. Eventually people fail to find acceptance through these things, no matter how successful they become.

To those seeking acceptance, justification promises perfect acceptance before a holy God through his unique Son, Jesus Christ. Justification can bring tremendous relief and joy to those seeking acceptance.

2. Seekers of Hope

The metaphor of new creation can be especially compelling for people who are longing for a new start in life. People whose lives have been littered with failure, scarred by abuse, humbled through suffering, darkened by depression, or ruined by addiction need the hope of becoming a new creation.

To those seeking hope, new creation exiles the old life and welcomes a new life through faith in Christ, shedding a bright ray of hope into the heart of the hopeless.

3. Seekers of Intimacy

Our search for intimacy in relationships never ends. Even the best friendship or marriage isn’t enough for our insatiable demand to be noticed, loved, and cared for. We all want a place where we can be ourselves and know that we are accepted. We want relationships that are secure, where we feel safe to share our innermost thoughts and darkest struggles. This is especially true of the person practicing serial monogamy, stuck in a broken marriage, or the celibate, lonely single.

To those seeking intimacy, union with Christ promises entrance into the most intimate, loving, unbreakable, fulfilling relationship known to humanity, bringing deep healing and joy to those seeking intimacy.

4. Seekers of Tolerance

Many people seek tolerance. Some don’t know the difference between classical and new tolerance.¹ That alone can be an illuminating conversation that deepens mutual respect and admiration between people. Others will not like the exclusive claims that Christianity makes. However, before scoffing at their perspective or trying to crush their worldview, ask questions to get on the inside of their perspective and appreciate their views. They often have good reasons or difficult stories attached to their objections. Respectful dialogue can go a long way in over-turning bigoted impressions of Christianity. In fact, it will open doors that would otherwise remain closed.

To those seeking tolerance, the atonement offers a redemptive tolerance that gives progressive people an opportunity to experience grace and forgiveness in a way that doesn’t demean other faiths, which can be very liberating.

Different Perspectives, Same Eternal Gospel

These gospel metaphors offer different perspectives on the eternal gospel, which when applied to the deep longings of people, awaken belief, hope, faith, and love. Gospel metaphors account for the depth, complexity, and power of the gospel, helping us answer not just the “what” of the gospel, but the “how.”

In order for our evangelism to be believable, it must be biblical. So when we communicate the gospel of grace, we must necessarily draw on biblical truths, stories, and images. If we stop there, however, we will fail to communicate effectively how the gospel is good news for others. Like good counselors, we must listen to others well to know how to effectively communicate the unsearchable riches of Christ in a way that speaks to their unique life story.

^{1. Old or “classical” tolerance holds the belief that other opinions have a right to exist. The new tolerance is the belief that all opinions are equally valid or true.↩}

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Jonathan K. Dodson (MDiv; ThM) serves as a pastor of City Life Church in Austin, Texas. He is the author of Gospel-Centered Discipleship, Unbelievable Gospel, and Raised? 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’s new book is The Unbelievable Gospel: Say Something Worth Believing (resource website here). You can also get his free ebook “Four Reasons Not to Share Your Faith.”

Self-Justifying Prayer

Constant and Considerate

After discussing the value of prayer in discipleship in Luke 18:1-8, you would think the subject would be closed. But I do not think it was for Jesus. The concept of the downtrodden and prayerful faithfulness permeates the rest of Luke 18 and it is right after teaching to “pray always” that Jesus presents one of his more famous parables,

“Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” (Lk. 18:10-13).

This is a familiar passage to many. And often prayer’s crucial role in the narrative is neglected. But in context it makes sense that the prayers of the parable are worth studying. The lessons learned are not that unlike the parable of the widow but before a new aspect of importance is added. For, Jesus spoke the parable against those “who trusted in themselves” (18:9). But more importantly they were also people who “treated others with contempt.” Ultimately this is always true. Those that trust their works, theology, and experience of God more than a godly humility mistreat the downtrodden. Christian prayer and discipleship must be constant and considerate, as we shall see from this parable. And with this in mind, Jesus proceeds to contrast sharp distinctions within prayer.

Both men went up to the temple (18:10). Let me put it in modern language: they were members of the same church. One was of good standing in the church and the other the type of person that people don’t usually like. But both were together in the same building.

This makes it interesting then that the Pharisee is said to have stood “by himself” (18:11). As his prayer affirms, when it comes to God this guy is in it for himself. He is willing to praise God (All thanks goes to God!). In fact he praises God for all the good that he does. And he does a lot. He abides by the law. He goes beyond the law (his fasting). And he does not keep anything back from God (his tithe).

Self-Justifying Prayer

What then was he guilty of? Jesus tells us at the start of the parable: he trusted himself and had contempt for others. He stands by himself. He is thankful for himself. And none of his works are focused on others. His prayer is both self-focused and degrading to those who are not on his level.

In contrast, the tax collector (who is also by himself) could not lift up his eyes to God. He too prays in a self-focused manner. There is no thankfulness in his voice. He does not trust in himself. He does not degrade others. He lacks any semblance of pride. But he is the one who went home “justified” (18:14). It would be inappropriate to presume that Jesus is here referring solely to the type of soteriological justification that systematic theology is concerned with. Though it is included—it can also indicate that the worship of the man was accepted before God.

And it is this element that I’d like to stress. For the second sin in Scripture was over denigrating a brother’s acceptance before God (Gen 4) and Christ taught the failure of any worship done while there is strife before brothers (Matt 5:24). Christian discipleship and  prayer can never turn in trusting in “us” (whether our theology or works) and denigrating our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Prayer as Essential to Christian Discipleship

Since prayer is essential to Christian discipleship, we should learn from this how it gets abused. For in advancement of discipleship there begins anew the opportunity to say “God, I thank you that I am not like …”

• Those who don’t study and memorize the Scriptures.
• Those who miss church service.
• Those who don’t read as many theology books.
• Those who don’t pray often.
• Those who don’t catechize their children.
• Those who don’t attend Bible Studies.

For each Sunday the Christian disciple gets to determine if they will go home justified in their worship before God. And it will be the one who returns to the realization that they have only accomplished what they should have done (Lk 17:10) that will go home justified. But if we proceed in a spirit of demeaning contempt for our brothers then we must repent of our “discipleship.”

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Joshua Torrey is a New Mexico boy in an Austin, TX world. He is husband to Alaina and father to Kenzie & Judah and spends his free time studying for the edification of his household. These studies include the intricacies of hockey, football, curling, beer, and theology. You can follow him @benNuwn and read his theological musings and running commentary of the Scriptures at The Torrey Gazette.

Haunted by Grace

This summer my wife and I moved from the medium sized central Illinois community of Normal to the Chicago suburbs. I grew up in Normal, went to college in Normal, and started my career in Normal—and I assumed I was going to spend the next few decades (at least) there. I don’t particularly like change and I don’t particularly like taking risks, so naturally the move has stretched me. The week before we closed on our house in the suburbs singer-songwriter Jason Isbell was passing through one of our favorite venues in central Illinois. My wife and I love Jason Isbell (and needed a date night) so we got there early to get a place to stand front and center.

It was a fantastic show—he puts on a great live performance. But about halfway through his set Isbell strums the first chords of “Alabama Pines,” and my wife and I both start weeping. “Alabama Pines”—an Americana ballad about feeling displaced, being away from home, and figuring out your identity amidst unfamiliarity—is one of our favorites and at the time was about as applicable as a song could be. In that moment, six feet from one of our favorite musicians, we were comforted in our insecurities, fears, and doubts. Even though we had never met, it seemed like Jason Isbell understood exactly what we were going through.

Once again, as happens often for me, music went beyond entertainment and became a means of grace.

Growing up, music was not just background noise but a world to explore. When most parents were playing children’s music or pop radio for their kids, I was being introduced to Buddy Holly, The Coasters, Chuck Berry, and Bob Dylan. My dad told me all sorts of stories about different musicians, studios, and venues that captured my imagination. Rock & Roll, Country, and the Blues were the folklore that implanted itself in my imagination, and like good folklore does, it filled me with wonder and awe.

Music was more than entertainment, it shaped me.

The love that I developed in childhood wasn’t just for music itself, but what it allowed me to express and articulate in remarkable detail. If I was upset I could listen to The Clash, who would identify with my angst. If I was sad I could listen to Bright Eyes lament. If I was feeling like I didn’t have a friend in the world, the Flaming Lips could always reassure me that there are people who are just as weird as me. Music naturally became a sort of language for me to articulate—if only to myself—what I was thinking and feeling.

Rock & Roll Music: Unredeemable Smut?

When I became a Christian, I thought I had to give up my love of the “secular” music that I grew up on. Like many who come from an unchurched background, I had to wrestle to understand how the things that I loved before I became a Christian should be incorporated in my new life. Before I was a Christian I certainly resounded with the refrain in Wilco’s “Sunken Treasure,”

Music is my savior I was maimed by rock and roll I was maimed by rock and roll I was tamed by rock and roll I got my name from rock and roll

When Jesus saved me I woke up to the reality that Rock & Roll is a lousy savior. I’m too big of a sinner to be saved by Rock & Roll. I needed Jesus.

But did that mean I must stay away from Rock & Roll altogether?

After much trial and error, counsel, prayer, and grace I realized I loved music for a God-given reason. God, in making man in his image, made humans musical creatures. It is our natural response to sing and express ourselves. From sports teams (you never walk alone!) to national anthems to love songs. We seem bent on expressing our loyalty, our love, and our sorrow through non-rational, rhythmic aesthetics. That is why Martin Luther said,

“I truly desire that all Christians would love and regard as worthy the lovely gift of music, which is a precious, worthy, and costly treasure given mankind by God. . . . Our dear fathers and prophets did not desire without reason that  music be always used in the churches. Hence we have so many songs and psalms.”

It is easy to see how we are discipled by music in the context of a worship service, but what about Rock & Roll? Country? How could that disciple us in anything other than debauchery and paganism?

By having my eyes opened to the real world—a world created by God, haunted by grace but caught in sin—I could see the image of God in the music I loved. It was my idolatry that was the problem.

Music as a Means of Grace

In 1 Samuel 16, when Saul is harassed by an evil spirit, it is the soothing, skillful lyre of David that brings relief. When Adam meets his bride Eve in Genesis 2 he responds in song. And in Acts when Paul wants to show how close to the gospel the Greeks were, he read them their own poetry—a musical literary genre. Music acts as a relief of the soul and a longing for the divine, even when we don’t intended it to be such.

Let’s jump back to the Jason Isbell show for a minute. As we were there having a good time and listening to some tunes, something happened. “Alabama Pines” struck our hearts and hit us square in the chest. At that moment the emotions and aesthetics of that song acted as a kind counselor by identifying and validating what we were going through. It was just for a moment, but it was nonetheless moving and cathartic. Isbell didn’t mean for his song to comfort us in our spiritual affliction, he probably just meant to write a good song.

Likewise, Jeff Tweedy of Wilco has said that the guitar solo in his song “At least that’s what you said” is a musical representation of what his anxiety attacks feel like. Tweedy expressed, as best as he knew how, a complicated emotional state and wound up creating something profound. I can hear my own anxiety, unbelief, and fear in his guitar. It does for me what David’s lyre did for Saul, and in that I can see the kindness of a God who relates to and understands his children.

When I am feeling hardhearted (which is often, if I am honest) there is music that tenderizes my heart and reminds me of God’s grace. Often this music is not explicitly theologically-driven or written by people who claim to be Christians. My wife and I chose The Avett Brothers’ gentle ballad “Murder In The City” for our first dance because of it’s softening power and beautiful picture of humble love. The same comes over me when I listen to A.A. Bondy’s album “American Hearts,” an album ripe with biblical imagery and poetic beauty.

These are what theologian Jerram Barrs would call “echoes of Eden.” Pictures of the way the world was supposed to be and a glimpse at the coming Kingdom.

Grace in “Secular” Music

Is there sin in “secular” music? Yes.That’s because it is made by sinners. But those sinners are also made in the image of God. Therefore, we have something to learn from even the least holy music.

The seemingly “secular” or “profane” always hold some divine significance in the world created exclusively by God.

That does not mean we should not be discerning. In fact, it means we should be extremely discerning! As I listen for God’s voice in the unpredictable world of Rock & Roll music, I find things that are not upbuilding that I do not want to identify with. But for all the unhealthy and broken music there is so much beauty and truth.

The temptation is to ingest music uncritically with little care or thought to the significance of the music being consumed or to find spiritual significance only in explicitly Christian music. Outside of the occasional time Coldplay talks about heaven, we hardly realize that we music has a profound spiritual quality.

We have access to our culture’s hymn book, and if we took the time to read it we might find what Paul found, that “He is not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:27).

It takes a heart awake to grace to perceive nonbelievers perceiving God’s attributes. The more we understand the gospel, the more we will begin to realize that God’s grace is so close, so tangible that non-Christians sing about it without even knowing they are singing about it. Grace sometimes offends our religious sensibilities by being so visible in lives of those who have no religious sensibilities.

Do you think that Paul would’ve been comfortable quoting Greek poets or acknowledging that “his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made” before he was awake to the gospel of Jesus? Even in describing the sin of humanity, Paul wanted the Romans to know that their pagan neighbors perceived the reality of God.

I’ve found that the more I understand God’s grace (which still isn’t very much), the more I am open to seeing God’s grace in places I wouldn’t think to look for it. That’s why I dumped my love for music when I first became a Christ and why I soon came back to it. As the Holy Spirit continually grows our understanding of God’s grace, we will see it in places we could’ve never imagined it would be—like Rock & Roll music.

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Nick Rynerson lives in the west suburbs of Chicago with his groovy wife, Jenna. He is a staff writer for Christ and Pop Culture and a marketing coordinator at Crossway. Connect with him on Twitter @nick_rynerson or via email.