A Tale of Talents
I have never met a writer who does not have some ambition to have his or her words read and appreciated by others—and I am no exception. Words have been bursting out of me since I was a small child. As I have walked with the Lord, I have come to see my love for words as a gift (that is not to call myself gifted, a title I would bestow upon the likes of Flannery O’Connor and Marilynne Robinson).
This gift, or talent, of mine, is much like the talents God gives to anyone—he gives it; I choose what to do with it. Recently I had time to reflect on gifts and talents when answering a question submitted to GotQuestions.org about a troubling verse. The verse in question was: “Why didn't you deposit my money in the bank? At least I could have gotten some interest on it” Matthew 25:27 (NLT).
I could understand why this verse could throw a reader off—it sounds like someone is a little money-hungry! Not exactly the kind of principle we expect to learn in the Bible.
Each of the Bible translations said the same thing here, but I thought the New Living Translation perhaps made the intent more readily apparent. Before we look at this verse, we need to summarize the parable from which Jesus was teaching a valuable lesson.
A TALE OF TALENTS
The Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30) is told by Jesus to illustrate that anything good we possess is a gift from God, and is intended to be used for his glory and the advancement of his kingdom. In Biblical times, talents were a form of money.
The word serves as a nice metaphor to our modern ears because God gives us many gifts that we may then put to use for his kingdom—such as talents, skills, blessings, and opportunities.
In the story, Jesus tells of a man who is going away for a bit and has three servants. He knows they have different abilities, so he divides eight talents (coins) between the three servants so they may work to increase the master’s money using their own abilities. He gives Servant One five talents, Servant Two two talents, and Servant Three one talent.
We should pause to consider these different amounts. Wouldn’t it have been fairer to give them all the same amount?
No, and here is why: We are all created uniquely, with different characteristics, gifts, and talents. As Christians, each of us is also at a different point in his or her faith journey. A person who has just received Christ likely doesn’t have the same level of study, understanding, or maturity as someone who has been a Christian for many years, and who is actively pursuing greater knowledge of God and deeper faith and understanding.
A MODERN PARABLE
Let’s look at a modern metaphor to better understand this concept.
If the CEO of a company hoped to grow a sum of money, would he or she be more likely give it to the mailroom clerk or the chief financial officer (CFO) to invest?
What this CEO might do is to give a large chunk of the money to the CFO who has a lot of experience with handling money and is known to be loyal to the CEO, and of the same mind to advance the company to its fullest potential. He or she might then give smaller amounts to those who show promise, in order that they might grow in confidence and execution of their tasks without overwhelming them with responsibility for which they are not yet prepared.
In our parable, God has given the bulk of the responsibility to the servant we will call CFO, one who has proven trustworthy, faithful, and effective. He gives the middle amount to one of his new accountants—one who has had proper training, has proven eager to please, and is ready for an opportunity with more responsibility.
Finally, God has given the smallest amount to the mail clerk who regularly shows up for work, has never had too much responsibility, but is someone the CEO is willing to invest in by providing the means and the mechanism (in this case, a coin) for doing good things.
So what do the CFO, accountant, and mail clerk do? The CFO and accountant both double the master’s money. Returning to the Biblical parable, they have trusted in the principles they learned from knowing God, obeying his commands, and following his ways. Often the Lord’s ways are very countercultural and seem bizarre to our way of thinking, so it is through faith that we can actually put them to use.
The CFO and accountant are greatly rewarded with the words every Christian longs to hear from his or her Father: “Well done good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:21).
Notice both the CFO and the accountant are rewarded with yet more responsibility because they have proven themselves with the smaller amounts they received from the CEO. They are ready for advancement.
The mail clerk, however, does not grow the master’s money. He reveals his heart when he tells the master he knew him to be “a hard man, reaping what you do not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed” (Matthew 21:24).
Ouch! He tells God he is greedy and wants more than he has worked for and deserves. He does not believe God is the one who created the earth, all living things, and his very life. He does not believe God gave him everything good in his life. He reveals no desire to serve the Lord. He believes God to be impossible to please, and that he would be working in vain to try and do so. It makes me sad to think about someone misunderstanding and misrepresenting my Lord.
God then calls out the servant’s hard heart. If he would have just put the money in the bank he could have at least earned a few extra pennies—something you might expect someone truly afraid of the master to do. This servant, however, had no desire to advance the kingdom, and, by choice, does nothing with the master’s gift or opportunity. Thus, God rightly takes the talent back and sends this man to the eternity he chose for himself. It’s a very sad day.
THE PRIVILEGE OF SERVING THE MASTER
In explaining this parable and the third servant’s outcome, commentator Matthew Henry points out there is nothing good in any of us, except what comes from God. All we own on our own is our sin. We must understand that we were created by God with a purpose. He created you and me for his great pleasure and to build the kingdom.
Henry states: “It is the real Christian's liberty and privilege to be employed as his Redeemer's servant, in promoting his glory, and the good of his people: the love of Christ constrains him to live no longer to himself, but to him that died for him, and rose again.”
Servants One and Two chose to believe in God’s goodness, his plan, and to work with the gifts he had given them to fulfill his purpose in their lives. Servant Three refused.
Servants One and Two were promoted and rewarded and will continue to do good things for God and His people—most important of all, sharing the good news of Jesus Christ who has a plan for their lives too! Servant Three refused to believe, promote, or even do even the least amount possible to serve God.
GIVING IT BACK
As a young woman, my writing reached only an audience of family and teachers. I became a Christian as an adult, and it took me many years of studying God and loving him to start to sense my place in His Kingdom, and that my compulsion to write might play a small part in that.
Since college, my audience has gradually grown, sometimes one person at a time, as I answer the biblical and spiritual questions of others. I consider this an awesome way to contribute my talent in God’s Kingdom. Occasionally my writing has reached a broader audience, but I am determined that anything I contribute will be something that honors my God. More than commercial success, I pray for opportunities to give my God-given talent back to him ten-fold.
WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH YOUR TALENT?
The application for you and me rests in how we answer these questions. Who do we believe created us? For what purpose? Do we recognize the gifts, talents, blessings, and opportunities God has given us? What are we willing to do with them? Where do we draw the line? Ultimately, do we trust our lives to God?
Friend, I pray you know God as your creator. I pray you have given him access to your entire being—that you have availed all of your life to the advancement of his Kingdom and to fulfill his purpose in you. His requirements will always stretch you, but will never be more than he knows you can accomplish.
Once started on a path of serving the Lord, your opportunities will increase in responsibility and frequency as you continue to show faithfulness. Does this mean you and I will always be perfect? No. Our journey will be filled with days when we stumble or outright fail. We are not the mail clerk on those days; we are CFOs who accept failure as part of the process, learn and grow from our mistakes, and keep on pressing forward until the day we land at the feet of our Father. He will look down on us with love and utter the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
Rhonda Maydwell is a staff writer for GotQuestions.org, and co-author and copy editor of the recently published, 7 Women, 7 Words, a collection of faith-filled essays based on seven common words from seven different perspectives. She is a wife, mother of two, and grandmother to Georgia Kate.
Let Abundant Life Start Now
Our pre-teen conversation overheated quickly, as pre-teen conversations often do. While sitting in class, I argued for the doctrine of “grace alone,” with a friend of another faith, though I didn’t yet have the language to call it that.
I was extolling God’s ability to save anyone, yet my friend grew more and more indignant. “You mean to tell me,” he reasoned, “that the death-row prisoner who robbed and murdered all his life could whisper a prayer at the eleventh hour and go to heaven?”
His indignance was making me indignant. “Yes, of course!” Didn’t he want God to be like that?
More than twenty years later, I’m still right. The God I see in the Bible will condescend to save anyone who calls on his name (Romans 10:13). It should be our joy to know he is no respecter of our persons (Acts 10:34), and doesn’t exclude us on the basis of our sins—or include us on the strength of our resumes (Ephesians 2:8-9).
And yet I now see a little more nuance behind my friend’s response than I did years ago.
Recently while reading Dallas Willard’s The Divine Conspiracy, I came across a passage that clarified the conversation for me:
“It is now understood to be part of the ‘good news’ that one does not have to be a life student of Jesus in order to be a Christian and receive forgiveness of sins. This gives a precise meaning to the phrase ‘cheap grace,’ though it would be better described as ‘costly faithfulness.’ ”
To be clear, this wasn’t the argument my friend was making. His doctrine of salvation involved a divine ledger of debits and credits.
But there is something sad—a shame, really—to the idea that we would embrace Jesus at the last minute or treat him as a life-insurance policy. Not when we have the chance to enjoy him as long as we can on earth in view of enjoying him throughout eternity.
ERRORS ON BOTH SIDES
People on both sides of the Christian spectrum can uphold an incomplete view of salvation. Historically, conservative Christians have been guilty of perpetuating the idea that once you’re saved, you’re good to go. There is nothing left to do or think about. They easily can promote a “set it and forget it” view of our relationship to the Redeemer.
Christians with more progressive leanings have rightly criticized this view. Doesn’t the life and message of Jesus matter, they argue? We are intended to follow him in the here and now. How else will we follow him all the way to heaven?
But often it is people in this group who make the argument that unbelievers might, at the end of their lives, be saved through some miraculous act of God. Perhaps they’ll turn to Jesus in the afterlife—or, as some posit, it will be revealed that genuine faith in another god or way gets fulfilled in Christ.
Which is it? Are we meant to immerse ourselves in the life of Christ or not? Is salvation for now or for later?
We aren’t as careful with these questions as we ought to be, which reduces the conversation about who can be saved to an ethical or philosophical quandary.
“Who can God save?” keeps getting invited to the same parties and gets stuck in the corner talking to “Can God create a rock so big even he can’t lift it?” and “If you could, would you time travel back and kill Hitler?”
LIFE, NOW AND FOREVER
The cross is not a “get out of jail free” card; it is an invitation into the all-consuming life of God. Jesus does not preside over marriages of convenience; he enters into covenants with his people.
The gospel is good news for the death-row prisoner, the lifelong atheist, or the one who makes an eleventh-hour plea. That God would save anyone at all is amazing grace.
But when we treat that grace as a normal, or even desirable, view of salvation, we sacrifice God’s best at the altar of the merely good. We pit fullness of life against sufficiency to save. But these two things never were meant to be at odds.
The ideal seen in the Gospels is people who immediately answer Jesus’ life-changing call to “follow me” (Matthew 4:18-22). Those who wished to accomplish something first or wanted to wait for the right moment, walked away from their encounters with Jesus disappointed (Matthew 8:21-22).
Jesus came to save us eternally, no doubt (John 3:17). But he also came to offer us an abundance of life in the here and now (John 10:10). He treats us to a full measure of God’s presence; we get to open the treasure chest of delights he makes available (Psalm 16:11).
This should be our ideal: life now with Christ. Life forevermore with him.
CALLING PEOPLE TO MORE LIFE
What does this have to do with discipleship? Quite a bit, as it turns out.
In the same section of his book, Willard refers to what he calls “nondiscipleship” as the elephant in the church. He writes:
“The division of professing Christians into those for whom it is a matter of whole-life devotion to God and those who maintain a consumer, or client, relationship to the church has now been an accepted reality for over fifteen hundred years.”
There are at least two ways that our view of salvation affects our ability to make disciples.
First, how we win disciples is how we’ll keep them. From our pulpits to our casual conversations, we need to hold up a full and true doctrine of salvation. We should strive to be honest and complete about what it is we’re calling people into and who we’re urging them to follow.
If we hold up the cross as a way to avoid hell and herald Jesus as a victor who enables us to live free of divine worry, we can’t be surprised when we make disciples more interested in security than sanctification.
But if we call people to lose their life with the suffering servant (Isaiah 53) and to pursue a life which aims to know God no matter what it costs (Philippians 3:7-11), we will find ourselves leading disciples who are willing to bear their daily cross and fight for joy in Jesus.
Second, we are called both to equip people to live for Christ now while preparing them for heaven in the future. Biblically, this is one and the same pursuit.
I’ve heard numerous preachers ask congregations whether they could enjoy heaven and all its benefits—no sin, no sickness, no death—if Jesus were not there. This isn’t some rhetorical guilt-trip. It’s a question that really matters. If our lives today aren’t about enjoying as much of Jesus as we can, what makes us think we’ll enjoy his presence unleashed and unbridled?
Once again, Willard is here to challenge us:
“I am thoroughly convinced that God will let everyone into heaven who, in his considered opinion, can stand it. But ‘standing it’ may prove to be a more difficult matter than those who take their view of heaven from popular movies or popular preaching may think. The fires in heaven may be hotter than those in the other place.”
Life eternal and life abundant were always meant to go hand-in-hand. They are not enemies or opposites, but the closest of companions. The salvation experience you treasure is the one you will begin to live out.
Those who have been rescued and redeemed by Jesus are offered fullness of life and joy in him today. Right this very minute.
Let’s not wait. Let abundant life start now!
Aarik Danielsen is the arts and music editor at the Columbia Daily Tribune in Columbia, Missouri, where he also serves Karis Church as a lay pastor. Find his work at facebook.com/aarikdanielsenwrites and follow him on Twitter: @aarikdanielsen.
Glorifying God in Our Ends and Means
A few years ago, my kids participated in an AWANA program at our local church. This ministry strives to teach kids the Bible. All week long, my boys worked hard to memorize several verses. I’ll admit I was tempted to think my mom game was strong—I clearly was raising kids who loved God’s Word. But as time passed, I realized my boys were working hard to memorize verses so they could receive AWANA bucks—play money to be used in the AWANA store to buy toys and candy.
My dreams of raising the next John Piper were crushed. As it turns out, my little guys loved candy and did what they could to get more of it.
At the time, memorizing Scripture was just a means to an end for my boys. They valued treats and trinkets, not truth. I explained to them that learning God’s Word is a reward in itself. As with many aspects of parenting, through correcting my children, God began to reveal ways I devalued processes in my own life.
WHEN OUR GOALS AREN’T GODS
We can all be tempted to only value the final product, not the process. Often we value the destination, not the journey.
But our invested time and labor is not just a means to an end. It's in those processes and journeys that God is making much of himself in us. God is transforming our character and revealing himself. We would be wise to see the value in the means.
We work hard for rewards and value them. We desire to be thinner and healthier, so we diet and exercise. We are motivated by the end result of getting back into those jeans and watching our blood pressure go down. Diet and exercise can easily be viewed as a necessary evil to accomplish our goal of getting fit.
We want to get a good grade on a test, so we study hard to learn the material and get an A. Studying is a discipline endured to achieve a goal.
We want our children to obey, so we train them to respect our authority. The time spent teaching them is difficult and draining. But we know it’s the only way to accomplish our desired goal: having obedient children.
We desire to provide for our families, so we work hard five days a week to receive a paycheck.
The goals we work for can be good, and God can be glorified in them. But we shouldn’t be negligent in seeing and desiring God’s glory in the labor towards our goals. We miss out when we only see the process as the means to an end. God redeems our means and glorifies himself in them.
FINDING LIFE IN THE MEANS
Valuing the process is not a new idea; it’s a biblical one. When God rescued the Israelites from Egypt, their destination was the promised land of Canaan. They arrived via a 40-year detour in the wilderness. This was their means. Yes, this means was a time of punishment, discipline, and refinement (Joshua 5:6), but God was with them and displayed his glory to them.
He provided for his people with manna in the mornings and quail in the evenings (Exodus 16:12). He gave them water from a rock (Exodus 17:6). He kept their clothes and shoes intact for 40 years (Deuteronomy 29:5).
The Israelites were focused on getting to Canaan. In the meantime, God was with them, teaching them to trust him.
The ends we strive for make up very little of our lives. Most of our lives are lived in the means. The means may be pretty or messy, but God is sovereign over them all. He’s with us in our weakness, making us strong (2 Corinthians 12:10). When we believe, it’s because he was with us in our unbelief (Mark 9:24).
God is transforming us while we’re in the meantime.
God values a mother’s work training children. In doing so, she is loving him through her obedience (Proverbs 22:6). A student’s hard work has eternal value when it’s done for the Lord (Colossians 3:23).
We bring God glory as we display his self-control in our lives by eating enough to sustain our bodies, not overindulging. We can value this discipline by eating to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31). God values our hunger for him that surpasses our hunger for anything else.
God values our time at work as a place we make disciples (Matthew 28:19).
Yes, we want to see God glorified in our achievements. But it’s short-sighted to stop there. We should seek God’s glory in the means, processes, journeys, and methods. We can glorify God in where we go as well as how we get there. We can bring him glory in what we do and how we do it. God should be glorified in our ends and our means.
GOD’S MEANS
Even God’s plan to reconcile his creation to himself was a process. God could have simply desired it and it would have been so. But he chose a means to an end that involved him giving of himself to accomplish our redemption.
This method required decades of his Son humbly living the life we couldn’t here on earth, in perfect obedience, and without sin. It will require millennia of his patience toward us as he desires to see everyone repent (2 Peter 3:9). God is not wasting thousands of years, though. This time is valuable and transformational for his people.
One day our earthly pilgrimage will be over. We will be completely conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29), forever with him in glory (Colossians 3:4). We will have a beautiful story to share of how our Father transformed us into Christ’s image “from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18).
Each degree of glory is another beautiful and valuable means to an end. As we look to that end, may we value the meantime.
Christy Britton is a wife, homeschool mom of four biological sons, and soon-to-be mom of an adopted Ugandan daughter. She is an orphan advocate for 127 Worldwide. Her family is covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, N.C. She loves reading, discipleship, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for various blogs including her own, www.beneedywell.com.
The Arrival: Prince of Peace
Editor: Today we start our Advent series. There’s a natural sense of restlessness in our world which only Jesus’ presence can bring peace and resolution to. Our desire is to drive our hope toward the incarnate Savior during this season. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth. —
For many the holidays are a time of joy and merry-making with family and friends. We all have our own traditions. My family enjoys driving through our local park decked out in Christmas lights, visiting a local holiday fair, and taking a carriage ride in an adjacent community. I shouldn’t forget the food. We love some seriously good eats. And would it be Christmas without watching the classics? Elf. Miracle on 34th Street. It’s a Wonderful Life. Home Alone.
However, not everyone’s holiday memories are joyful and merry. Wendell Berry gets it right, “It is hard to have hope.” No other season of the year amplifies this difficulty like the holiday season. All of our misplaced hopes rise to the surface of our hearts and cause discontent and hopelessness. In part this be may due to the holiday façade. Commercials with happy families and friends gathered around the table and the Christmas tree. TV shows where “Christmas magic” makes everything better. Or the picture perfect homes in magazines.
What a juxtaposition. Hopefulness, joy, and merry making and hopelessness, conflict, and loneliness. So what if Christmas isn’t very merry? What if Advent doesn’t feel hopeful?
A PRINCE OF PEACE ARRIVES
For those who are dreading the holidays because of fear, hopelessness, conflict, and loneliness, hear the word of the Lord in Isaiah 9:6-7,
6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7 Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.
A child was born who brings peace. God offers terms of peace that he meets in the arrival of His Son. Isaiah, as we read, calls Jesus the “Prince of Peace” (9:6). Hear what the angels say when they announce the arrival of Jesus:
8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 10 And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14 “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
ON EARTH PEACE
I love how the KJV renders this announcement: “[O]n earth peace, good will toward men.” There’s an expectancy only fulfilled in the gospel. We know the peace is delivered through Jesus Christ, but how? This advent proclamation of peace is the foundation for Paul’s theology of justification. Without this proclamation there’s no justification! So let’s read what Paul writes about peace:
13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility 15 by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, 16 and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. (Eph 2:13-16 see also 6:14-15 “the gospel of peace”)
19 For in him [Jesus] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. (Col. 1:19-20)
1 Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. (Rom. 5:1-2)
It’s in Paul’s magnum opus, the letter to the Romans, that he makes the connection undeniable between peace and justification.
So when someone asks Paul “How can a righteous God make peace with man through Jesus?” Paul would say, in shorthand, justification. Study the ministry of Jesus—it’s centered on bringing peace to those who are sinners, sick, scandalized, and the poor in spirit. Jesus embodies and acts out the divine peace through justification by faith in the Gospels, whereas Paul explores and mines these truths systematically in his letters. Latter in the prophecy of Isaiah, the prophet writes,
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. (Is. 53:5).
Jesus was crushed for our transgressions which brought us peace. Notice that stark juxtaposition—crushed and peace. Words that are not normal bedfellows.
PEACE FOR FAMILIES
Jesus’s arrival marks the proclamation of good tidings for everyone whom God is pleased with by offering peace with God by Jesus’ blood! And isn’t that good news for families who are hurting this holiday season? The beauty of God’s peace is that it’s not just an individual thing. This peace is covenantal and forms a community of people who have received peace and who can share that peace with others. For the family in conflict there can be peace. For the family ruptured by divorce there can be peace. For the family separated by death there can be peace. For those who feel the weight of loneliness there can be peace. For the husband and wife mourning childlessness there can be peace. Remember Isaiah 53:5? God crushed Jesus to bring us peace and healing. Paul echoes this same sentiment with a twist: “The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet.”
Those same odd bedfellows (“peace” and “crush”). Satan who is the father of lies and conflict and the dark prince of this fallen world will be crushed under our feet. The authority that Jesus wielded is passed on to us. With his presence (Matt. 28:19-20) and Spirit (Acts 1-2), we are ambassadors of peace in this fallen world and Satan will be ultimately crushed by the authority of the God of peace and his Church.
Dispense peace this week. Plead and pray and trust that the peace of Jesus will be with you and that others might see and receive this blood-bought peace this Advent season. Come alongside those who are hurting. And if there’s conflict in your family, lead with peace and grace and mercy.
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace,
Hail, the Sun of Righteousness
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen with healing in His Wings.
Now He lays His Glory by,7
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the New-born king!"
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!
Idolatry: A Fatal Attraction | Part 2
It’s one thing to understand the category of idolatry, but quite another to isolate what deities you worship. It’s the difference between knowing what a steak is and actually tasting a perfectly grilled morsel of meat melting on your tongue. Today we take the first step in diagnosing idolatry. ****
I’m a sucker for the occasional B-movie escapism. Replete with a low budget, painful dialogue, and a severely undefined story arc, it can be the perfect silliness for a Friday evening. Enter Anaconda. As only 1997 could deliver, the film chronicles a documentary crew headed into the jungle to shoot footage on a mysterious Indian tribe. On their way, they pick up a stranded man who then takes the team hostage on his quest to capture the world's largest and deadliest snake: a record-breaking green Anaconda.
The thrust of the storyline in one sentence (spoiler alert!) is: people scanning the crest of the river to determine where this deadly snake might be. That’s it. You can imagine the dialogue: “Is that it?” “Did you see that?” “I think I heard something” “Watch out, I see it coming!”
I’ve been thinking lately about the ways we pursue happiness and my drifted to Anaconda. Though most of us wouldn’t articulate it this way, we stroll through our human existence, scanning the surface of our hearts until we find what we think we are looking for. Our time, our energy, our attention, and even our money is devoted to a quest of self-assurance and self-significance.
The Great Hunt
We want to be loved. We want to belong. We want to make a difference. We want to feel important. And we’ll look endlessly until we have found something we think might satisfy us—much like the documentary crew looking for what lies at the crest of the river. But the fruit of our self-salvation projects lie at the surface of a greater hunt in our lives.
Want happiness? It’s important to identify what is at the surface of our hopes and desires. In order for us to find real satisfaction, we must start here. We must ask, “Is that it?” “Did you see that?” “I think I heard something” “Watch out, I see it coming!” The Bible calls this self-diagnosis idol detection (1 Cor. 10:14). Today, we are discussing step one of this self-diagnosis: unearthing those idols that lie on the surface.
Many times these idols are easily discernible, because they are on the surface but there’s always deeper root idols. You can identify them by listening to your prayers. What do you ask God forgiveness for? Maybe it’s an anger problem. Maybe it’s an issue with lust. Maybe you have bitterness in your heart towards another.
While it is good to ask God to cleanse you of unrighteousness, prayer is the first leg in the race to kill your idols. Anger, lust, and bitterness are exterior sins indicating deeper root sins. These are branch idols. You can see them easily but the root sins are what’s actually feeding them.
Hunting for Your Idols
Here are some questions as you look for your surface idols.
- Do I need to be esteemed by people?
- Do I demand order in my world?
- Do I compare myself favorably to others?
- Am I angry or defeated if things are not accomplished immediately?
- Do I have to be the center of my family life, my job, or my church?
- Do I dictate that people must submit to me?
- Do I think my opinions are all-wise and correct?
- Do I do whatever pleases me?
- Is my appearance—whether religiously or physically—ultimate?
- Do I desire to be accountable to no one?
- Do I have to win at everything?
If you notice, these questions require a sense of self-awareness. Tim Keller says that one way you can identify your surface idols is by looking at your most uncontrollable emotions
Just like a fisherman looking for fish knows to go where the water is rolling, look for your idols at the bottom of your most painful emotions, especially those that never seem to lift and that drive you to do things you know are wrong . . . when you ‘pull your emotions up by the root,’ as it were, you will often find your idols clinging to them.
So what are your surface idols? Look at where the water is rolling on the crest of your heart and you will locate them. It’s an essential first step to reversing the fatal attraction of idolatry in our lives.
Next time, we will look at why we can’t stop at just identifying our surface idols if we want to find true significance and happiness. To find real peace and contentment in life, there is something that lurks beneath the surface that we must address because our surface sins are only symptoms of much deeper sins.
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Brad Andrews is a husband of one, a father of seven, and an advocate for grace. He serves as pastor for preaching, vision, and missional leadership at Mercyview in Tulsa, OK. He blogs at graceuntamed.com and his articles can also be found on Gospel-Centered Discipleship and Grace For Sinners. He served as a religion columnist for the former Urban Tulsa Weekly and was also 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.
Buying Into Our Own Marginalization
Recently Q Ideas, the conference and TED-like Christian event, posted talks given by Rod Dreher, a conservative journalist for The American Conservative, and Russell Moore, the president of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention. The two talks are titled, “The Benedict Option” and “The Prophetic Minority.” These two titles represent a wave of Evangelical rhetoric flooding social media timelines and trending topics. Moore and Dreher are proponents of framing the current American Evangelical experience as an “exile.” In an op-ed publishing by The Washington Post, Moore closes his piece by saying, “We see that we are strangers and exiles in American culture. We are on the wrong side of history, just like we started. We should have been all along.”
That same day, Dreher published a piece in Time and on his blog hosted by The American Conservative saying Christians “are going to have to learn how to live as exiles in our own country. Voting Republican is not going to save us, nor will falling back on exhausted, impotent culture war strategies. It is time for the Benedict Option: learning how to resist, in community, in a culture that sees us orthodox Christians as enemies.”
Language that hints at marginalization or exile from a white male is tough to stomach in the 21st century. I recently heard the novelist Nick Hornby say he stopped writing white male protagonists in his latest book, Funny Girl, because, “I can’t figure out what their problems are anymore.” With a history of privilege, we lack humility and self-awareness when we buy into our own marginalization.
We actually have no idea what that even means.
What is an Exile?
But perhaps on a deeper level, there is something sadly untrue about the marginalization rhetoric surfacing amidst the evangelical church. Maybe even deeper lies a misunderstanding of what the “exile” and the “sojourner” meant Biblically. Yes, Scripture (particularly in 1 Peter) identifies Christians as “sojourners” and “not of this world” with “citizenship in heaven.” But are events like the Supreme Court decision and losing culture wars what the Biblical authors had in mind when they used these terms?
My guess would be that if Paul were reading our history, he would not chalk up these moments as our identity as “exiles.” He would probably tell us this is life as a Christian. Jesus, Peter, Paul, and the early church never had anything go their way, nor did they have any hope in the political system to begin with because their beliefs were not predicated and assisted by a political system. It was based on an eternal kingdom that you could not see.
The exile language is Jewish language, belonging to the people of Israel first as a key identity piece that actually reminded them of their sin and disobedience to God (2 Kgs 17:7-23, Jer. 29:4). The word is used, depending on your translation, nearly 100 times in the Old Testament; it is used six times in the New Testament—only four of those times are they referring to Christians, half of which are found in Peter’s first letter.
Where Peter calls the Christians, “exiles” and “sojourners,” it is important to remember he was writing to the church in the Diaspora, or “the Dispersion,” which “originally described Jews or Jewish communities scattered throughout the world (see Isa 49:6; Psa 147:2; 2 Macc 1:27; John 7:35 and note).” This term—again, only used four times in the NT for Christians—is vague but refers to all believers everywhere who await the New Jerusalem as their final home. This is simply a spiritual term used for the broader family of God, which are those who claim Jesus as Lord and fall under the New Covenant. They are, like Israel, exiles in the spiritual sense, not the political.
We Were Always Exiles and Sojourners
Politically and nationally, I do not see evidence of how the culture wars have had an affect on the lives of most Christians everywhere. Yes, we are exiles who await the New Jerusalem, a time where Jesus returns to “make all things new.” Until then, we do, yes, wander the earth as people who are not fully home.
But as Americans we are quite well-off. Furthermore, as a white male pastor, I do not understand how we can apply this heavy word during a time of fantastic freedom and religious liberty. Every day of my life is—despite common suffering and troubles of life as a human being on earth—remarkably good and easy.
For the Christian in America, it seems absurd to claim marginalization politically or culturally. These arenas are still dominated by white men and offer a lot of freedom for Christians to practice worship and preach the gospel. Even though the political and cultural landscape is changing little has changed that will affect our ultimate and eternal mission as we await our new home.
We were wanderers and exiles 10 years ago, and 25 years ago, and 1,500 years ago. That is our spiritual identity and it always has been. As we see the waves of culture and politics go back and forth, we continue to serve the unseen kingdom—serving the poor, widow, and orphan, preaching the gospel, and remaining unstained by the world. That is what we have always done and that is what Christians will always do. Nothing has changed.
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Chris Nye (@chrisnye) is a pastor and a writer living in Portland, Oregon with his wife, Ali. His first book will be published by Moody next year.
The Gospel of Matthew Reading Plan
We’ve launched a series on The Gospel of Matthew for the month of August. Brad Watson, our executive director, encouraged our readers to read a chapter a day in the Gospel of Matthew. To help jumpstart your reading, we want to share our reading plan (below) and this helpful resource from the folks at The Bible Project (@JoinBibleProj):
- Mon, August 3rd—Mathew 1
- Tues, August 4th—Mathew 2
- Wed, August 5th—Matthew 3
- Thurs, August 6th—Matthew 4
- Fri, August 7th—Matthew 5
- Sat, August 8th—Matthew 6
- Sun, August 9th—Matthew 7
- Mon, August 10th—Matthew 8
- Tues, August 11th—Matthew 9
- Wed, August 12th—Matthew 10
- Thurs, August 13th—Matthew 11
- Fri, August 14th—Matthew 12
- Sat, August 15th—Matthew 13
- Sun, August 16th—Matthew 14
- Mon, August 17th—Matthew 15
- Tues, August 18th—Matthew 16
- Wed, August 19th—Matthew 17
- Thurs, August 20th—Matthew 18
- Fri, August 21st—Matthew 19
- Sat, August 22nd—Matthew 20
- Sun, August 23rd—Matthew 21
- Mon, August 24th—Matthew 22
- Tues, August 25th—Matthew 23
- Wed, August 26th—Matthew 24
- Thurs, August 27th—Matthew 25
- Fri, August 28th—Matthew 26
- Sat, August 29th—Matthew 27
- Sun, August 30th—Matthew 28
Read the Gospel of Matthew. One of the reasons Jesus’ life ends up feeling like a random collection of anecdotes and one liners is we rarely read through it all together. We may have done so in our early days of faith but have since neglected it. We invite you to spend August reading the Gospel of Matthew. Read a chapter a day. As you read, contemplate the passage. Here are some helpful questions:
- What is Jesus saying or doing?
- What does that say about his character?
- How are people reacting to him? How does that expose your reaction to Jesus? How would your friend who doesn’t believe in Jesus respond to this?
- How is Jesus proving to be the true humanity? The true Prophet? The true Priest? The true King?
- What is most challenging about Jesus?
Pray the Gospel of Mathew. Practice Lectio Divina, Read, Reflect, Respond, and Rest.
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
9 Basic Reasons to Study Church History
For many, just the word “history” brings up bad memories from high school. When I hear the word “history,” I think of random things such as Charlemagne, carpet-baggers, Huguenots, dates, times, presidents, and a bunch of things I forgot until we studied WWII (which was actually interesting). For most Christians, church history is the same way. We don’t really know much about it. We know a little about the Apostles in the book of Acts, then there is a bunch of stuff we think is weird and too “Catholic,” and then there is the Reformation, and here we are today with prosperity preachers and Joel Osteen.
So is church history important? Is it useful for discipleship? How much should we study it? My hope is to briefly sketch why I think church history is important for evangelicals today and is actually a gift from God to help us understand how to apply his Word. Why study church history?
1. Church history reminds us that we are part of a larger family of faith.
We have a tendency to think the church really began in our lifetime with cool pastors, conferences, and podcasts. Or, we have a tendency to think the church really began at the Reformation. We forget that there has always been a remnant. There has always been a true church. Jesus promised that the gates of Hades would not prevail against his church and the gates of Hades never have. People loved Jesus in the early church (Irenaeus, Athanasius, Augustine, et. al.), in the middle ages (Thomas Aquinas, Anselm, et. al.), in the Reformation (Luther, Calvin, et. al.), in the early modern era (Edwards, Whitfield, Wesley, et. al.), and in the modern era (Machen, Henry, Barth, et. al.). On the one hand, church history protects us from thinking our denomination is right and everyone else is wrong (most of our denominations are less than 400 years old), and, on the other hand, it reminds us that we are part of a larger family of faith dating back more than 2,000 years.
2. Church history helps us rightly interpret the Bible.
God’s Word is meant to be interpreted within the community of faith. When an individual just runs away from the church and doesn’t listen to instruction from others, he usually starts a cult. We must interpret the Bible as we bounce ideas and interpretations off one another. And we don’t just bounce ideas off of those around us. We use the larger community of faith including the writings of Christian brothers and sisters who have passed away.
3. Church history helps us hold to correct doctrine.
Though God’s people may err in certain doctrinal matters, certain teachings like the Trinity, the deity of Christ, the resurrection, and the second coming are always held as truth by all true Christians. Church history helps us see what God’s people have always believed and what doctrines the majority of Christians have seen as essential. It helps us continue to pass on the “once-for-all-delivered-to-the-saints” gospel (Jude 1:3). There is a saying that, “new kinds of ‘christians’ are really just old kinds of heretics.” Knowing correct doctrine helps us guard against false teachers and religious sects today.
4. Church history helps us guard against reading our culture onto the biblical text.
Church history helps us see how other cultures have interpreted the Bible and see where some of our biases and prejudices pop up. For example, the topics of homosexuality and gender roles are rather controversial subjects today but almost completely agreed upon throughout most of church history. If we are teaching about these subjects in new ways, this should cause us to ask if we are reading our culture onto the Bible and making it say what we think is important today instead of what it actually says. Another example is that in America many Evangelicals think drinking alcohol is sinful. Seeing that this is a unique idea in post-prohibition America (and is not thought to be sinful in almost all other times and countries in church history) helps us put this issue in perspective.
5. Church history helps us see where we might be defending our traditions instead of the teachings of Scripture.
It is vitally important to know what the church has believed at each point in our history and why. That keeps us from “drinking the Kool-aid” and just doing what our denomination says. It is important for a Lutheran to know what Luther thought. It is important for a Presbyterian to know what Calvin thought. It is important for a Baptist to know about the radical reformation and English separatism. It is important for a Pentecostal to know about the Wesleyan holiness movement. It is important for an Episcopalian to know about the Anglican Church, the Reformation, and Thomas Cranmer. The list could go on and on. Knowing which historical actions caused certain beliefs is essential for challenging our views according to the Bible.
6. Church history helps us know how to address situations today.
I can’t think of any issues today that the church has not already dealt with in its past whether that be grace, politics, denominations, ethics, pastoral ministry, etc. The old adage, “Those who fail to study history are doomed to repeat it” is true of church history as well. By studying church history we can avoid stepping on landmines by seeing who has stepped on them before. We can copy what the past has done well and avoid some of the mistakes they made.
7. Church history brings humility.
If you hold a theological view or an interpretation of Scripture that almost nobody has ever held then you can know that 99% of the time you will almost certainly be wrong. The burden of proof is on the person who is holding a “new” view. This should humble us and keep us from thinking that everyone else was just too silly to see things like we see them today.
8. Church history helps us minister to others.
If I know the history of someone else’s ideas, denomination, or theology, it allows me to know how best to minister to them. It lets me know where they might be off and what issues they may misunderstand.
9. Church history is a reminder of God’s grace
Instead of looking like a bride we as God’s people have a history of looking more like a harlot. What is interesting to me is just how un-Christian so much of church history is. We have a history of shooting ourselves in the foot. However, just like Israel in the Old Testament, God loves his beautiful, messy, disobedient, lovely bride . . . the church. It is a reminder of how kind God has been to keep his promises despite our failures to be faithful to him. It is true that “if we are faithless he remains faithful for he cannot deny himself” (2 Tim 2:13).
In all this we know that only God’s Word is perfect and history is our imperfect attempt to play that out. However, church history is a helpful guide and companion on our journey in the Christian life and it is God’s gift to help us be faithful.
Resources:
- Church History in Plain Language by Bruce Shelley
- The Story of Christianity, Vol. 1 by Justo Gonzalez
- The Story of Christianity, Vol. 2 by Justo Gonzalez
- Historical Theology by Alister McGrath
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Zach Lee is Associate Home Groups Minister at The Village Church and is married to Katy. Follow him on Twitter: @zacharytlee.
Being Misunderstood for the Kingdom
I learned very quickly that I had a choice. Either I could constantly invoke my inner attorney to give myself legal defense, or I could invite misunderstanding and let that be okay. Sure, there’s a tension and wisdom that tells us both responses may be done with a confident humility, but maybe one of these options is the better one? Ministry is challenging. Discipleship is messy. Doing life as a sinner with other sinners can be sinful. When our heart’s desires make tangible appearances through words and actions, bad things can happen. Blowback can and does occur. How should we respond to one another when misunderstanding occurs? How ought we as reconciled-to-God-in-Christ-now-justified-sinners deal with interpersonal conflict and sinful interaction? Thankfully, Jesus, the Second-Person of the Trinity, took on flesh and dwelt among us. He identified with us and exemplified in himself what it means to do ministry and invite misunderstanding.
STORIED CONFLICT
In Matthew 13, we find Jesus teaching about the kingdom of God in various parables. He tells of the Parable of the Sower, the Parable of the Weeds, the Mustard Seed and Leaven, the Hidden Treasure, Pearl of Great Value, the Net, and the Master of the House with Old and New Treasures. Each of these stories are likened to some aspect of the kingdom of God and are used by Jesus to explain himself and his ministry.
But that’s not all we find in this chapter. Matthew gives us a look into what is happening behind the scenes, as it were, and explains a bit more about the parables. In 13:10-17, there’s an excursus that involves only Jesus and his disciples. The crowds are not privileged to this particular conversation. “Then the disciples came and said to him, ‘Why do you speak to them in parables?’” (Mat. 13:10). Conflict is on the horizon. What seems to be the problem?
SECRETS OF THE KINGDOM
Jesus responds to their question, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given” (13:11). Any information that disciples glean from Jesus’ parables is to participate in the secrets of the kingdom of God. In other words, the mysterion that Jesus explains can only be given through the Sovereign hand of God and divine revelation. The Apostle Paul shares the same thing, “The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned” (2 Cor. 2:14).
What Paul means (and I believe by implication it is the same thing Jesus believed) is not that you have to be a super Spirit-filled person in order to understanding this stuff, and if you say the right prayer, do the right thing, you’ll eventually figure it out. No—Paul means that any particular revelation of knowledge that pertains especially to the kingdom of God is only granted from above.
Men do not use logic and reason, then conclude God. Men cannot use logic and reason without God. God is the one who imparts wisdom and understanding. This is what Jesus is getting at with the secrets of the kingdom. It is not an issue of natural insight and basic rationale. It’s an issue of divine revelation. It is only for those, “It has been given.”
PUSHING IT FURTHER
Jesus goes on to say, “This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand” (v. 13). Don’t miss what Jesus is saying: There is a dividing line when it comes to the kingdom of heaven. What I am doing in my teaching is clearly laying out the lines of demarcation. There is no middle ground; in fact, there are only two ways to go about this—either you will understand because the Spirit makes you understand, or you will continue in your sin and constantly go about misunderstanding what I’m telling you.
Jesus pushes it further by creating the dividing line. Why did he do it? To start, Jesus fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah 6. Isaiah was to go and preach and Israel wasn’t going to listen. (Not the greatest ministry task. . . . Go and preach, and don’t get mad—they won’t listen anyway. Who wants that job?) Matthew makes it clear that Jesus is Isaiah—a prophet to a rebellious Israel.
The other reason Jesus creates the dividing line this way is because Jesus is okay with misunderstanding. Remember he didn’t come into the world to condemn the world, for the world was condemned already; Jesus came to save it (Jn. 3:17). By drawing the line, Jesus gave no ground for having a neutral position. You are either for him, or against him (Matt. 12:30). Either men will turn to Christ in repentance, or they with harden themselves and perpetuate misunderstanding.
VULNERABILITY IN COMMUNITY
We can learn much from this passage. I want to try and bring one aspect into focus, and it has everything to do with you. If you’ve been involved in ministry in any capacity, you know that misunderstanding abounds. The story I hinted at to start had to do with me being a pastor who has had his share of misunderstanding. In fact, in one Sunday I heard two things: 1) “I learn something every single week when you preach!” and 2) “We’re leaving because we don’t feel like we’re learning anything.”
How does that work? How can a pastor sit at someone’s bedside who is dying from cancer and be told the next day that he doesn’t care about people? Consider another paradox in ministry. How can a lay person who is passionately involved prayer about many different issues be told by someone else that she has bitterness in her heart and seems rather uninvolved in ministry? What’s the deal with misunderstandings in community?
Discipleship is an invitation to be vulnerable. It invites misunderstanding and chooses to put that inner attorney out of a job. It’s being so comfortable in your justification that your messy sanctification doesn’t trip you up. The reality is, any amount of investment you make in someone else’s life will invoke misunderstanding. You reap what you sow. The deeper you get into someone’s life the messier it gets. And that’s okay.
Jesus was quite okay with being vulnerable and he built his ministry on misunderstanding. That’s how it was supposed to be. “For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him” (Is. 53:2). He wasn’t spectacular and outwardly special. He left his home in glory to take on flesh and serve his people. He taught with wisdom and compassion yet was treated foolishly and hated by many.
What makes this special for us in discipleship is knowing that we don’t have to defend our case, but can live our lives for the glory of God free from the chains of man-pleasing. We can be vulnerable and okay with misunderstanding. Why? Because Jesus was vulnerable and misunderstood—so much so, that he was crucified for you. The misunderstanding of Christ led to the salvation of men. So rest easy, and continue to run.
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Rev. Jason M. Garwood (M.Div., Th.D.) serves as Lead Pastor of Colwood Church in Caro, MI and author of Be Holy and The Fight for Joy. Jason and his wife Mary have three children, Elijah, Avery and Nathan. He blogs at www.jasongarwood.com. Connect with him on Twitter: @jasongarwood.
The Scandal of Jesus
Despite the talk about the biblical gospel of Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection, we rarely stop to take in, reflect, or meditate on the life, character, words, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Christianity is nothing without Christ, yet we often rely on second or third hand descriptions of Jesus from books, blogs, preachers, movies, and music. All of these things are helpful and involved people using their gifts to make Jesus clear. However, at some point, to get to know Jesus and understand his message, you have to go to the source and read a Gospel account. Why? Because Jesus is God manifest in human form (Col 1). The fullness of God dwelt in him. He is the Conqueror of Sin, Author of Salvation, Giver of Life, Rescuer from Darkness, and Initiator and Sustainer of All Creation. Jesus is not an idea but a person. A person who lived, spoke, acted, befriended, rebuked, and made the intentions of God’s love clear. What did he do, what did he say, how did he teach us to be restored humans, and how do you worship and follow him? The answers to those questions are scandalous because he is not a contestant in the competition to be your best friend, but he is claiming and proving himself to be fully God. He is not simply the center of a worldview but God. He is not the example for effective discipleship only, but he is the Savior of the World who descended from heaven into the world.
Making Jesus in Our Own Image
For many years I was content with my favorite stories of Jesus: walking on water and the feeding the thousands. I also had a choice selection of teachings: the beatitudes, the great commission, loving your enemies, and the cost of discipleship. Lastly, I had my favorite parables he told: the prodigal son, the soils, the good Samaritan, and the wedding feast. These weren’t just my favorites; they were my entire playlist.
In the end, I chose to make Jesus into who I wanted him to be. I didn’t take in the whole of his life or his teaching, but the bits and parts that appealed to me most. To me Jesus was the collision of my preferences. He oddly, approved of my political, economic, ministerial, and personal preferences.
Jesus had my personality even. Journeying through life proved my Jesus wasn’t enough for me or the world I inhabit. The Jesus I had fashioned was too small.
Making Jesus Our Method
Then, I began to read the Gospels to discover the best way to be a Christian and make other Christians—which is a noble task but not the primary task of reading a Gospel. I wanted the best practices, techniques, and tools for making disciples. I didn’t read them to follow Jesus myself. Stop reading the Gospels to figure out how to “make disciples for Jesus” read it to “be a disciple of Jesus.” That’s when you will make disciple of Jesus.
I realized I was quoting Jesus as a proof for my model of ministry and not worshiping and wondering at God incarnate. The Gospels are theology and story—not pragmatics. It is the most captivating true story about what God is like, what he does, and what he wants for us. The story of Jesus unfolds in our mind as our story. We long to be reminded of our God’s most visible moment. This story changes what we believe, who we are, and the world we live in. The Gospels are not “how-to manuals.” They are theology and story.
You can’t use Jesus to perfect a method. The only effective discipleship models come first from beholding Christ and only then walking humbly in stride with him and the way he loved the Father, submitted to the Spirit, and loved neighbor. The point of the Gospels is not that Jesus chose twelve guys and spent a lot time with them. The point is the Kingdom of God breaking into the kingdoms of this world through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Jesus is the point of the Gospels.
I didn’t know Jesus because I hadn’t tried. I tried to find myself in Jesus (as the hero playing his role), instead of finding God in Jesus. I tried to use Jesus for my purposes, not to glorify him in wonder and worship. I had avoided confrontation with Jesus and it had left me the same. I yearned for transformation in the midst of the holy God who was pleased to dwell as a man on earth.
This month GCD is committing the majority of our articles to the endeavor of knowing Jesus through the Gospel of Mathew. We hope you will join us in the wonder, bewilderment, conflict, and challenge of knowing Jesus.
How to Join Us in This Journey
Read the Gospel of Matthew. One of the reasons Jesus’ life ends up feeling like a random collection of anecdotes and one liners is we rarely read through it all together. We may have done so in our early days of faith but have since neglected it. We invite you to spend August reading the Gospel of Matthew. Read a chapter a day. As you read, contemplate the passage. Here are some helpful questions:
- What is Jesus saying or doing?
- What does that say about his character?
- How are people reacting to him? How does that expose your reaction to Jesus? How would your friend who doesn’t believe in Jesus respond to this?
- How is Jesus proving to be the true humanity? The true Prophet? The true Priest? The true King?
- What is most challenging about Jesus?
Pray the Gospel of Mathew. Practice Lectio Divina, Read, Reflect, Respond, and Rest.
What We Pray and Anticipate Will Happen
You will encounter the scandal of Jesus not being who you want him to be. You will find that Jesus is not a warm cuddly lovable loser. Instead you will discover he is the Prophet who says: This is the truth. You will find that Jesus is not an all accepting cuddly bear. Instead you will discover that he’s the King who says: This is true humanity. You will find that Jesus is not just a philosopher of good ideas on the ideals of life but someone who says: Love looks like and does this. You will find Jesus as the Priest who says: Access to God is closed, but I will make a way to usher you into unity with God. Lastly, there’s the scandal that Jesus is God. You will find a holy, completely other, Jesus.
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Brad Watson (@bradawatson) serves as a pastor of Bread&Wine Communities where he develops and teaches leaders how to form communities that love God and serve the city. Brad is the author of Raised? and Called Together: A Guide to Forming Missional Communities. He lives in southeast Portland with his wife and their two daughters. You can read more from Brad at www.bradawatson.com
Re-Grounding True Identity in Christ
I sat in my office sulking. My day had been so demanding. My week tiresome. My month an all out marathon, minus the fans. Pastoring eternal souls, preaching week after week, leading leaders, and living an outwardly focused life is demanding enough, but occasionally the demands pile higher. As a pastor, I am a sinner that counsels sinners. This means that, despite our common hope in the gospel, there are times that I fail to apply my own counsel to my own soul. It means that I’m not enough for any disciple much less a whole church.
The past couple of weeks had been one of those “pile up” weeks. More counseling, more speaking, more demands. Add to the stack a particular situation that was, shall we say, extreme? The inbox had hate mail and church slander waiting for me. In tandem, I had to watch self-destructive behavior dismantle a person, whom I had poured a lot of life into.
Exhausted, I thought: “No one understands what it’s like to be a pastor.” “I deserve better treatment than this, after all I’ve done. Why can’t I have better circumstances.” I was emotionally drained.
In hope, I turned to Chuck Palahniuk for help, author of Choke, Snuff, and Fight Club.
Split Identity
Chuck Palahniuk writes sketchy fiction that challenges the prevailing norms for identity in our culture. His book Fight Club exposes misplaced identity through the central characters: The Narrator (played by Edward Norton in the movie version) and Tyler Durden (played by Brad Pitt). Durden starts underground fighting clubs where men show up after hours to fight bare-chested and barefoot.
In the now famous scene from Fight Club, the movie, Durden gives a speech that clarifies just what kind of war we should be fighting:
We are the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no great war, or great depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised by television to believe that one day we’ll all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars—but we won’t.
Our great war is a spiritual war. But what kind of spiritual war?
The spiritual war, according to Chuck, is to ground your identity in reality not in the American Dream. This is precisely what Edward Norton struggles to do. It was what I was struggling to do. Norton wants to be sexier and cooler than he actually is. He wants to be Brad Pitt, and he wants it so badly that he creates an alter ego called Tyler Durden, who starts Fight Clubs and lives like a rock god. He believes the lie that ubermasculinity and rock star living will give his life meaning, a greater sense of identity. So he creates Tyler Durden in his mind. You might say he has “identity issues,” but he’s not the only one.
Identity-of-the-Moment
We all have identity issues. Many of us have created an alter ego. It’s more subtle than Norton’s, but it’s an alter ego nonetheless.
This alternate personality contends for our identity. It pulls at your heart, your longings. It tells you that if you were just a little more like this or that, then you’d be somebody. If you were better looking, if you were more successful, if you were married, if you were more spiritual, if you had more of a following on Twitter or Facebook, then you’d be somebody.
How do you detect your alter ego? Where do your thoughts drift when you have down time? What do you daydream about? Follow your thoughts, your dreams, your calendar and you will find your alter ego. In an interview with Paste Magazine, Chuck Palahniuk shares where part of his vision for Fight Club came from. He notes that the fighting in Fight Club was more about:
[P]eople need[ing] a consensual forum in which to express themselves and to exhaust their pent up anxiety, and also to test themselves and kind of destroy their identity-of-the-moment, so that they can move on to a better, stronger identity.
His book really is about identity—destroying the unwanted identity-of-the-moment (alter ego) and finding a better, stronger identity. This is what’s at stake in our discipleship, every, single, day. A better identity.
Recovering Identity in Christ
What if we became adept at identifying our identity of the moment, the egos and images we slip into for meaning and worth? What if we were quick to confess those to friends and community? Just think what could happen if you consistently saw through your sin to your “identity-of-the-moment,” and turned to Christ for true identity. It could be life-changing! Here are a few tips that have helped me recover identity in Christ in my insane moments:
- Reflect on Identity-of-the-Moment. I look for the sinful patterns in my life and trace them to “identity of the moment.” For instance, my sin was sulking and my false identity was victim. I try to ask myself the hard questions, but often I need others to do that for me. Our self-image is as accurate as a carnival mirror, says Paul Tripp. We need good questions to straighten out our self-perception. We need to ask questions “What are you longing for most right now?” “Why are your emotions so extreme?” Check out David Powlison’s helpful “X-ray Questions.”
- My symptom was sulking. Sulkers are sour because they focus on how they’ve been mistreated. They see themselves as victims, their identity-of-the-moment. Complaining is a sure sign my victim identity is creeping in. “Can you believe they did that?” “There’s no way I deserve that.” Complaining can quickly turn to ripping on people. If we’re not careful, best friends and spouses will end up colluding with us for other’s verbal demise. “Venting” is an extreme expression of victim identity. We need a better identity in that moment.
- Reject Alter Identity. Once I detect my sin/identity issue, I try to reject it. Confession to God is the first step. “Lord, I am finding my worth in my wallowing, in being pitied, and not trusting your providence. I don’t believe these circumstances are a kindness appointed to lure me deeper into you. I confess and I receive–forgiveness and cleansing” (see: 1 John 1:9). When we confess our sin, we reject our false identity. It’s the first step toward gospel sanity, shaking off the delusions of sin, and returning to the grandeur of grace.
- Return to Christ. Returning to Jesus for gospel identity instead of an identity-of-the-moment is the most difficult and important part of being a disciple. Robert Murray McCheyene said: “For every look at sin, look ten times at Christ.” How does Christ offer you a better identity than the false identity? My sin was sulking and my identity was victim. In 2 Peter 1:3, I’m reminded that my identity is godly; I’m a partaker of the divine nature. I was sulking in ungodliness because I thought I deserved better circumstances. I felt weak. This time I turned Peter the Apostle, not Chuck Palahniuk.
Peter reminded me that we have “divine power granted to us for life and godliness.” This scripture reminded me of my identity — godly — but it does not stop there. It also offers a Savior to trust, a counter-promise of divine power necessary to live a godly life, not a sulking life. What a relief! Our identity is godly, and our promise is divine power for godliness.
Identity-in-Community
Interestingly, some of the material for Palahniuk’s book came from his experience in hospice patient therapy. During one Christmas, he picked a paper ornament off of a church Christmas tree, the kind that obligates you to a good deed like buying a gift for an underprivileged child. His ornament called him to give hospice patients a ride to their therapy sessions. As he sat through some of these sessions he reported that:
I started to recognize that, in a way, 12-step groups, recovery groups, support groups were becoming the new kind of church of our time — a place where people will go and confess their very worst aspects of their lives and seek redemption and community with other people in the way that people used to go to church and sort of present their worst selves in confession and then celebrate communion and then go home for another week.
This is what got Chuck going with some of Fight Club—the need for redemption and community. It’s time the church took those things back. It’s time we became a community that confesses the worst part of our lives to one another, but doesn’t stop there. We need more than confession, more than identity-of-the-moment exposure. We need sanity, to return to our true selves in Christ, in community. We need people who will point us to the redemption that is in Jesus. People that won’t let us sulk for too long, people who will reminds us that our identity isn’t victim. It is son or daughter of the Living God, “partakers of the divine nature,” godly ones. I’ve traced out one way we can do this in Gospel-Centered Discipleship, a community-based, gospel-centered approach to following Jesus. However you do it, make a habit of exposing false identities and re-grounding true identity in Christ.
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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
We Are Not Called To Be Awesome
Earlier this year, the former Mayor of New York City, Michael Bloomberg, made a pretty stunning statement. It was in the middle of a speech in which he was reflecting on his own legacy at the age of 72. He spoke about initiatives he had spearheaded in to reduce obesity, eliminate second hand smoke from public spaces, and neuter gun violence on the streets. In each instance, Mayor Bloomberg had demonstrated a desire to promote human health, safety, and flourishing.
The surprising part of his speech was the takeaway, in which he speculated about the afterlife. He said, and I quote, “I’m telling you if there is a God, when I get to heaven I’m not stopping to be interviewed. I’m heading straight in. I have earned my place in heaven. It’s not even close.”
After first hearing the Mayor’s statement, a thought dawned on me: Whatever we might think about Christianity, it is by far the most utterly unique religion that the world has ever known. Its uniqueness lies in the fact that unlike every other religion ever known to humanity, Christianity has an entirely different view of the afterlife than Michael Bloomberg.
Because with Jesus, and only with Jesus, the door of heaven’s entry is presented to us at the beginning of our journey, not at the end. The door is Jesus himself. He lived the life we should have lived but didn’t, and he died the death we should have died but will never have to…because he lived and died in our place. And he rose from the dead to seal it.
Besides Christianity, other religions say what Mayor Bloomberg said on account of himself: If you want to make it to heaven, you have to accomplish something. You have to live up to something. You have to bring it.
For honest people, this is a terrifying thought. Even Karl Marx recognized this. In a rare moment of transparency, Marx disclosed an inner thought that no doubt had a lot to do with the destructive worldview he would come to espouse. Reflecting on his own struggle for “salvation” or “significance” or “identity” or whatever we want to call it, Marx said, “I am nothing and I should be everything. Man, the poor, denuded creature, must repress his smallness.”
Michael Bloomberg and Karl Marx are really saying the same thing, just from different angles — Bloomberg from a place of superiority and feeling big, and Marx from a place of inferiority and feeling small. Both are saying that the way to salvation is through work. Through exertion. Through human effort. Through fulfilled expectations. We start off small and we become whatever it is that we make of ourselves. In the end, that will be our salvation or our judgment, depending on how we have performed. In the end, that will be our ticket to being accepted by God (if we believe he exists), by others, and by ourselves.
Have you ever wondered where the insatiable ache comes from? You know, the one that longs to have our name remembered on a building, or in a history book, or on a donor list, or on a book or album cover, or by an industry, or by our descendants? Have you ever wondered where the drive to accomplish something comes from, or the desire to leave a legacy?
But what if your name has already been given to you, and your legacy has already been achieved? What if it is God who has already given you that name and that legacy?
He has.
Jesus Christ lived and died—he made himself nothing—so you would never have to feel like a nothing.
He became small so you would never have to “repress your smallness” as a poor, denuded creature. And he rose from the dead so you could get to heaven and walk right in and not have to stop for an interview, because your trial has already occurred and your record of accomplishment has already been established by another.
The door of heaven’s entry is opened to you at the beginning of your journey, not at the end.
Another way to put this is that God has not called you to be awesome. Rather, he has called you to be humble, faithful, forgiven, and free.
We can all leave the awesome to Jesus. When we do, we will also become the best version of ourselves. But without the pressure.
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Scott Sauls is senior pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, Tennessee, and author of Jesus Outside the Lines: A Way Forward for Those Who are Tired of Taking Sides. You can connect with Scott at scottsauls.com or on Twitter at @scottsauls.
Originally published at scottsauls.com.
Curving My Affections Toward God
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.
Common Grace and Scoliosis
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; the power of the gospel tethers our hearts towards our heavenly Father, reducing the curving inwardness of our sin and lifting our hearts. 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.
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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.
3 Essential Truths to Kill Our Desire to Prove Ourselves
Yes, my hand is raised. I am guilty. I didn't know it at the time. But my goal to become an Ironman was really an attempt to justify my existence—an opportunity to prove myself, to myself. I was a 27-year-old pregnant crying mess. Terrified by motherhood because my chance to make "something" of myself was passing. Sad that the next 20 years would not be all-about-me.
Deep down, I knew this was shallow. I wrestled with the value of temporary vs eternal success. My mind defined success as becoming a very obedient child of God, but my heart longed to defend its worth through achievement. This struggle birthed my theme song:
My hope is built on nothing less Than Jesus blood and my success, I dare not trust in my own fame, But halfway lean on Jesus name.
Do those lyrics sound familiar? Are you worried your life will be a failure without a strong resume? Do you have a history of chasing achievement, hoping that your next win will bring self-approval? Have you divided your life into two categories eternal and temporal? Clinging to Jesus to justify your eternal soul, but also clinging to success to justify your temporal life?
For the next two years, after my darling boy arrived, Ironman ran my life. Motivated and scared by the impossible task of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run. The fear of failure and a persistent hope for self-acceptance inspired my training. I wholeheartedly believed crossing the finish line would validate my personhood.
In the cool evening air, applause erupted and the loud speaker bellowed, "Now, crossing the finish line is Tracy Richardson, a 29 year old mom from Arkansas. Tracy, you-are-an-Ironman!"
I eagerly anticipated that upon hearing those words I would burst into a stream of hot joyful tears. That I would be overwhelmed emotionally. That this achievement would be cemented as my defining moment. Nothing happened. Instead, I was slightly disappointed. First, because I'm from Alaska, not Arkansas. Second, I shed no tears. No fireworks went off inside of me. I couldn’t celebrate my newly justified self. I was still-just-me, only exhausted.
Ironman was a great experience for me, but it was not enough. Several days later, after some good rest, I came up with a new dream. Opening my own business. This time it would be different. Building my own little kingdom, from the ground up, would absolutely certify my success as a human being.
OK, so, why do I keep repeating these works for self-validation? Why do you? Why do we default to achievement, positive that it will validate our lives?
"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ" (Rom. 5:1). Paul instructs us on three essential truths to kill our desire to prove ourselves. These three gospel truths will combat our self-justification and selfish ambition.
1. God holds the position of Judge over our lives, not us.
As disciples of Jesus we submit to the standard God sets as judge. Our sin nature loves to play judge. We must resist the urge to analyze our faults and decide what will make us right. Our value and worth comes as we accept God’s judgment against us and cling to Jesus’ death as payment for the penalty. Our identity is no longer flawed; we have a new identity. You are a true child of God who lives to show everyone how awesome your Fathers is.
2. Peace with God is our greatest need, not peace with ourselves.
We all walk around with a gapping wound in our hearts. The wound is where intimacy with God once dwelt. We feel our brokenness. This ache compels us to do "things" to bring peace to our hearts. Some of us try achievement, some the perfect body, some relationships. For believers this will be an ongoing struggle until we are transformed by seeing “the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). In the mean time, we must be in a community of believers who will faithfully point us back to the gospel. Brothers and sisters who will remind you that before you came to faith in the Lord Jesus Christ you were spiritually dead, without hope, and facing eternal punishment. We need the daily reminder that peace comes from a right relationship with God, not achievement.
3. Christ's work on the cross is the most important accomplishment, not ours.
As a disciple of Jesus it is faith in his finished work on the cross that gives us merit. In a culture that stresses our accomplishments as most valuable, we are easily tempted to lean on our resume. When we focus on our achievements to bring us wholeness, we make little of the cross. If it is our success that makes us acceptable in our own eyes, then we have trampled the cross and raised up our own accomplishments. It is only the Holy Spirit who transforms our self-promoting hearts.
Friends, join me and repent from vain-justification. Turn and savor peace with God. Ask the Spirit to renew your mind with John the Baptists words about Jesus "He must increase, but I must decrease" (Jn. 3:30). We will recognize the Holy Spirits work in our lives when we begin to boast more and more of Christ's accomplishments and less of our own.
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Tracy Richardson (@alaskagospelgrl) serves at Radiant Church in Fairbanks, Alaska as the Church Planters Wife. She loves to study scripture, throw parties, and run trails. She has a B.S.S. in Fine Art and Literature. She is also Mamma Bear to two wild cubs.
The Foundation for True Reality
“I feel abandoned and forsaken by God.” I’ve heard this sentence in one form or another countless times from people overcome by their feelings in the midst of life. I find feelings interesting because they can infiltrate our entire being and hold us captive to whatever impression they give in the moment. Although they aren’t bad in and of themselves, our feelings become problematic when they don’t reflect true reality.
As a “feeler” by nature, God’s constantly readjusting my feelings-based perception of reality to the truth of his Word. Recently, he used the book of Ezekiel to do this. Yes, Ezekiel comes to us from a distant land in the ancient world far removed from anything you and I experience. And, sure, this book is full of confusing imagery, strange sign-acts, and language that makes many modern audiences blush. If you’re willing to overcome some of its cumbersome content, you’ll discover that Ezekiel has profound implications for what it means to think and feel rightly as a member of God’s covenant community.
The Book of Ezekiel
Ezekiel 1:1 begins “In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month.” Why begin with this date? Thirtieth year of what? Though it’s debated, many scholars believe it refers to Ezekiel’s age. If so, it was the year of the prophet’s thirtieth birthday. The significance of this lies in verse three, “the word of the LORD came to Ezekiel the priest, the son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the Chebar canal.”
Historically, we know Ezekiel as a prophet. As the son of Buzi, he grew up preparing to be a priest—the greatest calling one received in ancient Israel. His years would have been spent in preparation for the day when he would enter the temple in Jerusalem in holy service to Yahweh. Numbers 4:3 explains that priests were qualified to serve from the age of thirty to fifty; therefore, everything Ezekiel dreamed of doing from childhood on would come to fruition on his thirtieth birthday.
However his birthday had come and he’s not in the temple. Actually, he’s not even in Jerusalem. He’s “among the exiles by the Chebar canal” (1:1), “in the land of the Chaldeans” (1:3). Get this—Ezekiel’s in Babylon! He wasn’t ministering in the presence of Yahweh. He wasn’t enjoying the prestige of being a priest. He wasn’t even living in the comfort of his own land. Instead, he’d been taken as an exile in the first wave of the Babylonian captivity. He was living in an unclean land as a refugee surrounded by every imaginable evil.
“It was the fifth year of the exile” (1:2). He’d been there five years! Don’t miss the weight of this. He was ripped from his country, taken from his livelihood, denied the privilege of serving as a priest, and isolated from the presence of God . . . for five years. No Word of the LORD. No temple. No access to God. Furthermore, in the ancient world the victory of a nation meant the victory of their god. Thus, Babylon’s victory over Israel implied its victory over Israel’s God. Needless to say, Ezekiel was experiencing defeat in every conceivable way.
Humor me for a moment—imagine how Ezekiel must have felt.
Take him off his prophetic high horse and think about him as a real person. Do you think he felt abandoned by God? Possibly forgotten? Do you think he felt as if God were out of control or had given up on his people?
Christopher Wright insightfully writes,
“There is no reason to imagine that Ezekiel would have been immune to the doubts and questions that would have settled like the dust of the Mesopotamian plains on the huts of the exiles. For five years he had mourned and wondered and questioned. Five years is a long time for a refugee. The conclusion that Yahweh had abandoned them must have been close to irresistible.” [1]
Everything around Ezekiel pointed towards the conclusion that Yahweh had indeed abandoned him. But life is not always as it seems, nor is everything we feel the ultimate reality. Circumstances have a powerful way of shaping our feelings, but God stands above our circumstances and often works in mysterious ways. Thus, it is God’s Word, not our feelings, which offers the true interpretation of reality.
The Word of the LORD
Such is the case in the book of Ezekiel. It’s only when the Word of the LORD comes to Ezekiel that he understands what’s going on. He discovers all of his training as a priest was to prepare him for his true calling as a prophet. He realizes Babylon and its gods had not won the day. Instead, Yahweh, the God of all the heavens and earth, used Babylon as an agent of wrath to discipline wayward Israel. He learns the exile wasn’t happenstance; it was God’s sovereign plan to bring Israel to a place of recognition of sin and repentance from idolatry. He finds out God has a plan of restoration for his people, which he will initiate under the New Covenant.
Without the Word of the LORD coming to Ezekiel how could he have understood this? Praise God his Word did come to Ezekiel! We now have the written record of God interpreting redemptive history through Ezekiel in such a way that it gives us a filter greater than our feelings to make sense of circumstances. Ezekiel teaches us that despite everything we see and feel we can now we serve a God who is in control, meticulously working all things out to his ends for the glory of his name and the good of his people.
Ezekiel speaks powerfully to me about what’s really true. When I feel like God has abandoned me, I’m reminded God will never forsake those who have entered into covenant with him. When I feel like I’m spiritually and emotionally exiled, I’m reminded God pursues his children to the remotest parts of the earth—even into “Babylon.” When I feel like God doesn’t have a plan for my life, I’m reminded God is working all things out (including my life) for his purposes.
The Gospel of Christ
Moreover, Ezekiel points me forward to the supreme truth revealed in Christ. The prophet held out hope to languishing exiles that abandonment wasn’t the final word. God was going to bring about a New Covenant in which he would cleanse them and give them new hearts so they could be in right relationship with him (Ezek. 36:22-38). Christian, we are now living in the New Covenant. We are partaking in what Ezekiel longed to see. On this side of the cross, we have witnessed the climax of God’s prophetic promises in the person of the Son. Hebrews 1:1-2 says, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.”
You see, Jesus and his redemptive work is God’s final Word to us! The gospel, the good news that we can be in covenant relationship with God forever on the basis of the Son’s merit, is God’s definitive Word. God has spoken with finality about his love and commitment to us through the Son. So, when our feelings seek to distort this truth we must choose to believe the Word of the LORD as revealed in the gospel. Whatever you’re going through and feeling in this moment I want to remind you that Jesus is God’s Word to you—he’s your ultimate reality. His work on your behalf is the lens through which you can (and should!) interpret all of life.
[1] Wright, Christopher J.H. The Message of Ezekiel: A New Heart and a New Spirit. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2001. Print.
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Whitney Woollard has served in ministry alongside her husband Neal for over six years. She holds an undergraduate degree in Biblical Studies from Moody Bible Institute and just finished her Master of Arts in Biblical and Theological Studies from Western Seminary. She is passionate about equipping disciples to read and study God’s Word well resulting in maturing affections for Jesus and his gospel message. Neal and Whitney currently live in Portland, OR where they love serving the local church. Follow her on Twitter @whitneywoollard.
4 Inner Rings You May Be Pursuing
What are you pursuing with your life? C.S. Lewis talked about a set of "Inner Rings" or societal clubs that we long to be part of or included in, but often take a high level of expertise, time, or master ability to achieve. These Inner Rings often become a set of values, goals, and ideals that we spend our life pursuing so that we end up being known as a certain kind of person. Lewis said as we pursue these Inner Rings we often transform into people we never intended to be. The reality is it isn't the Inner Ring itself that is the destructive reality for us, it's really the pursuit of them. If we are going to understand our pursuit of the Inner Ring and how those pursuits motivate and manipulate our behaviors and beliefs, we must know what we are pursuing. Without being reductionistic or missing the nuances of individual hearts, there are four principle Inner Ring pursuits each of us gravitate towards. While many of these pursuits can be fundamentally good, their gravity will cause us to acquire them in unhealthy ways. Here are the four principle Inner Rings manifested in our everyday lives.
1. The Inner Ring of Acceptance
No one wants to be excluded. In fact, living in isolation and estrangement can be hellish. We want to be loved, included, thought of, and affirmed as “the right people.” Socially we’ve engineered all sorts of structures, tribes, and means to make sure we are people who are known and accepted. Often we know where we stand with others by the invitations we do or do not receive for group conversations and activities. If we discover a particular circle of friends got together without inviting or including us a sense of jealously and dismay can overcome our hearts. We might ask, “Why weren’t we invited? Why were they included and we weren’t?” That exclusion might very well bring us to change our behavior when we are in proximity to that tribe. We can begin to think that our exclusion and the inclusion of others has us on the “outs” socially and we need to change something to get back in.
The sitcoms of our culture often identify this desire and pursuit of acceptance. Consider The Office boss Michael Scott. While possessing the authority of the office manager, Michael deeply longs to be accepted as one of the guys within Dunder Mifflin. His employees often hold him at a distance and fail to include him in their social gatherings and activities. This drives Michael into many awkward situations as he attempts, often with disastrous results, to attain the acceptance and inclusion of his employees socially. All of this plays out humorously for our enjoyment and also reminds us of “that guy” at our place of work.
The Inner Ring of Acceptance displays itself in every social environment of our lives. Where ever people gather, we want not only to be part of the club but also to be accepted. The way in which we seek to be part of an Inner Circle of Acceptance is to find that group or community that we desire to be part of and do whatever we can to be accepted. To hear the words “We like you, let’s be together” is a sure indicator of our acceptance by others. To feel the disconnect, disinterest, and avoidance of that same group ruins us many times. You can identify your Inner Ring pursuit by asking:
- Who excluding you would hurt you deeply?
- Who’s acceptance does your day hang on?
2. The Inner Ring of Authority
While many find themselves chasing acceptance from others as an ultimate pursuit, for others the pursuit comes in a different form. The great pursuit of life doesn’t come in having the affections of others. It reveals itself in the leadership over others. Not satisfied to just be part of a team, these people pursue control and power at the highest level. They feel they have the insight, capacity, drive, resources, or vision to lead people to greater and higher things. This extends far beyond a business environment and can play itself out in practically every sphere of life. God has ordered all society levels to have leaders and followers.
We need leaders. We need direction. Someone must carry the responsibility for decisions in society. The government needs leaders. Corporations without capable leadership fail. The church needs leaders to shepherd people toward maturity in Christ. A home structure without proper authority and responsibility fail to raise children who contribute to society. It is a fundamental mistake to think authority in and of itself is bad.
The pursuit of authority consumes and drives many into dangerous territory. Some climb the mountain to stand alone at the top—just to be seen as the expert, leader, guru, or boss. The Inner Ring of Authority only invites a select few, and as an exclusive club itself the attraction of being part of that select few is intoxicating to those who would have it.
Often to those pursuing the status of authority an internal voice says, “You won’t be anybody until you are _________.” That blank can be filled in with a whole host of titles. You won’t be anybody until you’re the CEO. You won’t be anybody until you’re an elder at the church. You won’t be anybody until you’re leading the MOPS group in your city. You won’t be anybody until . . . What’s yours?
The people you desire the greatest acceptance from are the same Inner Ring you pursue for acceptance.
It’s a high stakes drive to the top that destroys, diminishes, and derails anyone in the way of attaining to the highest throne. In House of Cards, Francis J. Underwood pursues authority with force unmatched. This pursuit leads him to lie, murder, abuse, and manipulate anyone and everyone to achieve the Presidency. At the core, Underwood tries to sell himself that he is doing it all for good reasons. But as the saying goes, “Power corrupts, and ultimate power corrupts ultimately.” Ask these questions to identify your Inner Ring:
- If you never rose to the highest position of authority in your sphere of life would you feel your life was a failure?
- If you never had power to control and lead others as greatly as you would desire, would you feel like you missed the purpose of your life?
- What would you do to attain authority in different spheres of your life?
3. The Inner Ring of Applause
While some pursue acceptance and others authority there are some that have a uniquely different pursuit. Some people don’t care about authority or acceptance. They don’t care who they lead or even if people like them. They just want to hear applause and cheers. They love the spotlight. Often we think of these people as the artists from Nashville or the actors and actresses in Hollywood. Seeing your name in lights and having the crowd acknowledge your performance becomes a powerful drive. Yet it’s not just our stars that struggle with the Inner Ring of Applause. It’s found in stratus of life.
We want to be approved and applauded. We want our work to be noticed and recognized as exceptional. We want others to affirm we’ve done a good job in whatever we are doing. For the mother at home she wants to be recognized and applauded as having good children, a clean home, and happiness and joy to go around. The engineer seeks acknowledgement for his innovative design that advanced his company’s product above the competition. Pastors hope to hear “Great sermon!” from their congregation as they shuffle out the doors of the church building. This helps them feel like their preparation was not in vain.
Just as acceptance and authority are not evil within themselves, neither is applause. It’s legitimate for our words to be used to encourage and affirm others. We should celebrate beauty, creativity, excellence, and truth. Being applauded for excellence mirrors the way we should glorify and exalt Christ for his excellencies. The applause, by and large, isn’t the proverbial fly in the ointment that spoils everything.
What destroys, however, is the pursuit of that applause. What will it take for you to get noticed and awarded? This pursuit can lead us to do all sorts of subtle, compromising things. Social media has become, for many, an applause factory. Someone asked me the other day why I rarely “liked” their posts of Facebook. They noticed I wasn’t noticing them. They began tagging me in their posts so I would be guaranteed not to miss the opportunity to applaud them. They were keeping a scorecard of "likes" and "shares" by their friends. They longed for the affirmation of others and were discouraged when I didn’t hang on every word they wrote, picture they posted, and story they linked. They perceived my lack of a “thumbs up” as a lack of approval for their life narrative on Facebook. Frankly, their “I have an awesome cat!” posts were a little obnoxious and tiring. Yet they desired my applause and were willing to go to extremes to get it.
Like acceptance and authority, applause is a powerful and intoxicating thing. The person who chases applause will rarely have their fill of it. To the heart unchecked, the pleasantness of the first trickle of applause will soon desire an avalanche of ovation. It won’t ever be enough. The pursuit of it becomes the goal and not the having itself.
If you are pursuing the Inner Ring of Applause, it can be identified by asking yourself:
- If no one every affirmed or approved of your hard work would you despair?
- Would depression set in on your heart if you weren’t recognized for your beauty or creativity?
- Do you do things at your work, church, home, and in your community so that others will affirm and applaud you?
- Do you compromise yourself in ways so that others will affirm you?
4. The Inner Ring of Abundance
This final Inner Ring isn’t built around people but possessions. The old saying goes, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” Our culture reinforces and reiterates this position. Of course, Christians know he who dies with the most toys is still dead (Lk. 16:19-31), but that doesn’t mean we’re not impressed by those who have the resources to live up now. No one wants to live in poverty and I’m not saying we should. But the drive to acquire possessions and live in economic security and abundance crushes people those that live in our gravitational pull.
Scripture teaches us to pray for daily bread (Matt. 6:11) and offers this juxtapoistion between poverty and riches.
Remove far from me falsehood and lying; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that is needful for me, lest I be full and deny you and say, “Who is the Lord?” or lest I be poor and steal and profane the name of my God. —Proverbs 30:8-9
Pursuing abundance in the wrong way leads to “be[ing] full and deny[ing the Lord]” (v. 9), but that doesn’t mean all acquisition of material possessions is an ungodly allowance. Having a well paying job, a nice home, a reliable vehicle, and enjoying a quality steak while on vacation are not damning vices to be rejected outright. Poverty is not necessarily a virtue—but neither is abundance.
Like acceptance, authority, and applause the trouble comes at the heart level. It’s not enough that we have nice things. It’s that those nice things eventually don’t fulfill us the way we thought they would, so we end up pursuing more. The home isn’t big enough, the car not luxury enough, the television not big enough, and the vacation not exotic enough. We begin to compare notes with our peers and friends and find what they have doesn’t match what we have so we get and get and get to “keep up with the Joneses.” As we pursue the Inner Ring of Abundance, we find that acquiring stuff allows us to enter different circles of identity and more Inner Rings.
I remember the first time I saw someone with Apple’s iPhone out in public. I was riding the ferry boat from San Francisco to Alcatraz with some friends. The owner of the magical device whipped it out to make a phone call and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The allure of that device was palpable. I could hear myself thinking, “If I had one of those I would be so cool.” The small circle of people who owned one of those devices was an attractive circle to join. The problem was the phone originally cost $599 with a two year contract. The price put it beyond the reach of so many of us. The iPhone was (and is) a status symbol and the pursuit of having it was a siren call to my heart.
Perhaps this is the trickiest pursuit to reveal and yet the most obvious at the same time.
- Could you do without something and be content? If your friend, neighbor, coworker or peer had all the things that you wanted and you did not would you be satisfied?
- Do you live beyond your means so that others will view you as affluent?
- When will enough be enough?
These are hard questions to wrestle with, but they can reveal a pursuit of abundance very clearly. The people you desire the greatest acceptance from are the same Inner Ring you pursue for acceptance.
Discerning Your Pursuits
Motives have to be questioned. Pursuits must be examined. If we will be people not driven by pursuits that will cause us to compromise and capitulate our convictions and values then we must understand where the battlefield lies. Ultimately, having acceptance, authority, applause, and affluence are not evil. We are hard-wired by God for them. Yet pursing these Inner Rings and the object of these pursuits may destroy our lives.
Ask yourself which pursuit do you most deeply identify with? Which “Inner Ring” do you deeply desire to be part of or known for? Do you want to be seen as someone with abundance and material possessions? Deep in your heart do long for people to applaud you and recognize your achievements? Are you eager to be part of a specific social group, network, or clique and have their acceptance? Are you frustrated if you aren’t the leader exercising authority and control over a group of people or organization?
Once we identify our core pursuits, we can address how to navigate those pursuits in a way that will free us from the ensnaring power of sin and death. To help us further diagnose our motivational drives and ambitions, we need to take a walk into the darkness. We need to step into our nightmares and look at our fears in the face. By moving the things that bring us the deepest fear and anxiety into the light, we can clearly see the pursuits that drive our daily lives.
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Jeremy Writebol (@jwritebol) has been training leaders in the church for over fourteen years. He is the author of everPresent: How the Gospel Relocates Us in the Present (GCD Books, 2014) and writes at jwritebol.net. He is the pastor of Woodside Bible Church's Plymouth, MI campus.
7 Extraordinary Ways the Father Loves Us
It’s difficult to grasp God's love for us. For many, the love of Jesus comes through loud and clear, but God the Father often seems distant or looming. Many of our perceptions of God have been distorted by earthly shadows—fathers, employers, leaders, etc. To move forward in loving and being loved by God, we must replace our false ideas with biblically-saturated truth. God’s attributes—including love—aren’t like human traits that strengthen or weaken nor are they like moods that come and go. God is all of his attributes perfectly, all the time. And yet, we still struggle to believe it can be true, that this great God can love us messy and stumbling sinners. Sometimes we don’t feel his love on a day to day basis like we desire, so walls of doubt begin to shut him out. Other times we unwittingly read the Word not through the lens of his love and grace to us in Christ, but through tinted lens of condemnation and guilt.
My hope is that by dwelling on God’s love for us, we’ll move from a general and vague idea to a sweet and personal experience. God desires as much, and once the fountain of the Father’s love is opened we’ll find ourselves stepping into new streams of gratitude, contentment, joy, and security. Here are seven examples from the New Testament of how God clearly and convincingly displays his fatherly love to his children.
1. The Father’s Love in Sending
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son.” (John 3:16)
The Father’s love for us is nowhere more conspicuous than in the sending of his only Son—freely, unprompted, and undeserved. The same Scriptures proclaiming Christ’s love in dying also reveal the immense love of the Father as the sending source. He so loved us that he gave his only begotten Son. This world-famous verse placards the pursuing love of the Father. And it’s not a nebulous or general love, but his particular love to actual persons like you and I.
Whether from the lies of the accuser or deception from our own minds, Christians can act as if Jesus is the good guy who convinces the fear-inducing Father to show mercy. In reality, the Father dearly wants to be in an intimate relationship with us so he dispatches the Son to bring us back. This unmerited love of God shines even brighter against the backdrop of our dark and ill-deserving condition. That’s why the Apostle John erupts with the words, “Here is love!” when he thinks about the Father giving Jesus to bring wayward children into his family. “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:9-10). The cross is the exclamation and the evidence of how much the Father loves us.
2. The Father’s Love in Revealing
“And whoever sees me sees him who sent me.” (John 12:45)
As the Word, Jesus is the self-expression of God. The incarnation points to the Father’s love because it proves he wants to be known in a way that is clear, intimate, and according to truth. Because God is not like us in so many ways and cannot be seen or touched there are moments he might seem remote or intangible. Jesus takes our vague or slightly distorted notions of God and gives us the real picture of the Father in his fullness of grace and truth. We should look to the incarnation of Jesus to see just how near the Father has come. The Son shows us the Father, and through Jesus the invisible God is finally visible.
It should astound us that the infinite, transcendent, and perfect God would make knowing us and being known by us one of his highest priorities. What a joy that God is a Father who doesn’t just show mercy—and that would be wonderful enough—but he wants a real relationship where we know and love him. Our perceptions of God become fuzzy and distorted when we look at earthly figures of fathers or authorities. However, when we look at Jesus the character and compassion of the Father is clearly and accurately put on display.
3. The Father’s Love in Adopting
“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God.” (1 John 3:1)
God the Father’s love can be seen in the friendly and familial vocabulary describing a believer’s relationship with God. We are called his sons and daughters. God wants to be known and seen in this way which is why he draws on the affectionate language of Father and children. “And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying ‘Abba! Father!’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son” (Gal. 4:4-7). Paul was well aware how quickly we retreat back to fearing God as slaves so he presses home the truth we can trust him as children.
Imagine two people in your mind’s eye. First, imagine someone you feel comfortable with because you’re loved and accepted. When with them you don’t ever have to worry about being anything other than yourself. Now visualize a second person who creates an uneasy sense of the need to measure up or being on your best behavior. Think of the difference if you were just sitting in your living room with either person watching TV together or talking. How free do you feel with the first person versus how hesitant or anxious you feel with the second? Because of our justification in Christ, the Bible describes God the Father as the person in the room we should completely trust and therefore find rest with—awake to the fact we are truly known. The Father doesn’t hold back love until we change or earn it. It’s a full stream of God’s unconditional love to his children.
4. The Father’s Love in Comforting
“Blessed be…the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.” (2 Cor. 1:3)
The Father expresses his love in the comfort he gives, and even in the fact he calls us to find our comfort in his fatherly embrace. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3). It’s a slightly different nuance but in Romans 15:5 Paul also calls him the God of encouragement. He doesn’t turn his children away or pile up heavy discouragements on their backs. He’s not looking to criticize you or asking you to toughen up. Instead, he’s a gentle God who gives the comfort we need when we hurt and the encouragement we need when weary.
The discomforts in this world are no match for the comforts of our Father. He wraps his strong but soothing arms around us. The comfort of the Father never goes away. It is not wearied or exhausted by our sins and it isn’t based on our performance. The Father comforts because he is the God of comfort. His love is seen both in the act and in the warm heart that calls us. We might imagine God with arms crossed ready to criticize or condemn, but God assures us that he stands with arms opened ready to welcome and console us.
5. The Father’s Love in Giving
“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father.” (Jas. 1:17)
The Father loves us by giving good gifts. He enjoys us enjoying him as we enjoy his gifts. This exhibits his care and provision for us but it also expresses his generous and glad heart towards his children. God hands out who knows how many gifts to us each day, but the problem is we either don’t see the gifts or we don’t stop to consider who they’re from. Gratitude happens when we open our eyes to an awareness of the gifts and then raise our eyes in a response of thanksgiving to the God who gave them. Our joy in gratitude becomes the joy of worship. The gift should always lead to the giver. David Pao says, “Thanksgiving in Paul is an act of worship. It is not focused primarily on the benefits received or the blessed condition of a person; instead, God is the centre of thanksgiving.”1
Jesus argues from the lesser to the greater to bring home the reality of God’s goodness. “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (Luke 11:13). The best examples of earthly fathers in their generosity and gifting are a tiny picture of God’s perfect love. God has blessed us with innumerable blessings, and the more we see them as gifts the greater opportunity we have to delight in the Father. In other words, one way to see God’s heart of love for us is to see the gifts that come from his hand to us.
6. The Father’s Love in Promising
“For all the promises of God find their Yes in [Jesus Christ].” (2 Cor. 1:19)
The Father’s love is seen in the making and fulfilling of promises to his people. All God’s promises to us are confirmed and secured in Jesus (2 Cor. 1:19). First, he loves us by being true and faithful rather than being unreliable or deceptive (Titus 1:2). Nothing gives a greater sense of safety and security than a trustworthy father. Second, he demonstrates his love in the promises themselves. He keeps his word and he offers some pretty amazing blessings. he promises to love us as his own children, to give us his Holy Spirit, to keep us secure in Christ, to wipe away our sins, and to one day come back and restore all things (see Eph. 1:3-14).
The Bible is stocked full of promises that are strong enough and sweet enough to carry us through each day. Promises are God’s caffeine kick to reawaken and energize Christians. One of the best things to do when studying God’s Word is to intentionally pick out the promises of God and to anchor your life on them. They are true and they are good. If we ever doubt God’s promises he calls us to look back to the pledge of his Son (2 Cor. 1:20; Rom. 8:31-39) and the down-payment of his Spirit (2 Cor. 1:22; Eph. 1:14). God loves us by promising us with countless blessings and assurances, and he loves us by always keeping those promises.
7. The Father’s Love in Disciplining
“For the Lord disciplines the one he loves.” (Heb. 12:6)
The Father loves us not despite discipline but through it. I know this point is a hard sell but the Bible connects the dots. God’s discipline is a calm but firm correction, never a fit of rage. He aims to teach us not reject or punish. The NT links discipline and love to help cement in our mind that they’re not irreconcilable enemies, but rather, they’re actually related (Heb. 12:3-11; Rev. 3:19). The fact that God corrects his children should encourage us just how much he cares and provide proof he will never give up on or leave us in our sin.
A beautiful scene in the TV show “Parenthood” depicts this idea. One of the families had adopted an abandoned young boy. Early on he misbehaves and continues acting out his bad habits. The mom thinks they should keep looking the other way but the dad reminds her they’re his parents now. He’s their child so they need to treat him like family, not like a guest or stranger. Since he’s now their boy and they want what’s best for him they make the tough choice to give correction and explain what he’s done wrong. As God’s children, we also need to remind ourselves that discipline isn’t the same as displeasure. In fact, it demonstrates God’s commitment to us. God treats us not as strangers or guests who he has no relationship with but as a father who deeply loves his sons and daughters.
Loving How We’ve Been Loved
When we don’t live in light of God’s love for us we’ll either shy away from Him out of fear or exhaust ourselves trying to win his approval. My hope is that as we let the truth of God’s love drip from our heads to our hearts we’ll be refreshed in security and rest. This is a game-changer when it comes to how we draw near to our God. It also transforms relationships and how we treat one another. As we experience the Father’s love in specific ways, we can give the type of love we’ve received.
There are a lot of great insights out there on parenting and marriage, but we cannot love children or spouses well unless the perfect love of the Father is a first-hand experience. In a culture desperate in its desire for “true love” and yet clueless in what that looks like, both single and married Christians can point others to a satisfying, unending love their souls are aching for. The application could be extended to the hard people in our lives or the unlovely in our families and neighborhoods, but in each case we can only love others well as we see them through the lens of how God has loved us: freely, undeservingly, and steadfastly.
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Dustin Crowe has a bachelor’s degree in Historical Theology from the Moody Bible Institute and studied at the master’s level at Southern Seminary. He is Local Outreach Coordinator of College Park Church, a church of 4,000 in Indianapolis, where he also helps with theological development.
1. David Pao, Thanksgiving: An Investigation of a Pauline Theme (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 28-29.
Tired of Yourself? Jesus Will Never Tire of You
We crave affirmation and praise. This is so because we are made in the image of God, who is both the object and source of love, adoration, praise and wonder. Yet we are haunted because there is much about us that invites shame more than it does admiration. We miss the mark and we miss the boat, failing not only to measure up to God’s standard, but also our own. To make matters worse, instead of facing our deficiencies head-on, we self-medicate with cover-up strategies to make ourselves look OK even we are not. We clean the outside of the cup while leaving the inside untreated. We are imitators of Adam and Eve after they got caught. Rather than humbly owning and repudiating our quest for independence and obsession with self, we become defensive, shift blame, and avoid relationships that might expose us. We hide the worst in ourselves at every cost. But the “safety” that comes from hiding also comes at a cost. We become alienated because every self-protecting cover-up erodes intimacy with God, other people, and our actual selves. Rather than live free, we schlep through life carrying the cargo of vague guilt and shame-induced anxiety. If we are somehow awakened to our condition, we will cry out for healing from these painful realities. We need help—a kind-hearted rescue from outside ourselves. We can’t get there alone.
rescue from outside ourselves
Enters Jesus.
Although we are exposed and found lacking, Jesus moves toward us as a living hope and ambassador of peace. It is his peace—the declaration that through him, all hostility between heaven and earth, the infinite and the finite, God and humanity, has been demolished—that makes us rich in the truest sense. His peace resources us with an emotional wealth that lets us face our deficiencies more honestly, and in a way that does not crush us. In Jesus, all negative verdicts against us have been reversed. Our vague sense of shame, both illegitimate and legitimate, the shame that comes from outside of us and the shame that comes from inside of us, has been neutered.
We are fully known and fully loved.
We are exposed and not rejected.
We are seen and embraced.
No need to run for cover. In Jesus, there is nothing left to fear, nothing left to prove, and nothing left to hide.
Several years ago, the American Music Awards featured an arrangement of the hymn, “Amazing Grace,” but with one very significant revision of the lyrics—“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved someone like me.” Perhaps you identify with the revision because you find the original lyric (“a wretch like me”) offensive. Non-religious people especially resist the idea that there is a wretched tone to the human condition. To err is human, but deep down all people are basically good, the assumption goes. Believing in the inherent goodness of people, a non-religious person might counter the vague sense of shame by denying that shame exists. Live and let live. Or, as Billy Joel famously sang, “I don’t care what you say any more. This is my life. Go ahead with your own life. Leave me alone.” The problem, however, is that in this scenario, shame is suppressed and denied, but it is not healed.
There is also a religious form of denial. Some call it self-righteousness, others call it hypocrisy. In Luke 18:9-14, for examplee, a religious Pharisee hides behind a résumé of good deeds. He prays about himself, or, according to the original text, he prays to his own soul, “Thank you, my God, that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers, tax collectors. No! I am a devoted religious man! I fast twice a week! I give away a tenth of my income! I attend church!” In this prayer he mentions God only once and himself multiple times. Strangely, his “prayer” neither sees nor savors the grace, truth, beauty, goodness, glory, and magnificence of God. Instead, it is a narcissistic moment of self-congratulation. In truth, the self-congratulation is also a self-salvation strategy, a desperate attempt to medicate a shattered and terrified ego.
Not only does the religious man rehearse his own virtues as he sees them, he also uses his virtue as a basis for looking down on other, “lesser” people with contempt. Rather than humbly confessing his weakness and need before God, he separates the world into “good people” and “bad people,” assuring himself that he is one of the good people. What ensues is a counterfeit feeling of superiority that makes him feel, at least for a time, that his shortcomings are not nearly as serious as the shortcomings of others. The problem, however, is that the vague sense of shame is merely suppressed, but not dealt with in a healing way. In the end, his “I’m good, they’re bad, I’m right, they’re wrong” posture corrupts worship and kills community.
Jesus Gives Graces
But Jesus doesn’t separate the world into good people and bad people. He separates the world into proud people and humble people. What’s more, he opposes the proud, and gives grace to the humble.
The Jesus gospel, unlike the false “gospels” of the non-religious and religious, assures those who believe that all is well, and that we are OK, not because we are superior to others or because we have accrued an impressive moral record, but because of Jesus’ self-substituting love for us. Jesus lived the perfect life that we were unable to live. Then, he transferred the merits of that perfect life to our account. Because of this, God “reckons” every Jesus person as a perfect person, not because we have lived perfectly but because Jesus lived perfectly in our place.
What’s more, Jesus absorbed the horrific, alienating punishment that was due to us—death on the cross and the removal of God’s smile. Now, because of Jesus’ substitutionary death on the cross, God looks at every Jesus person with pleasure. He hasn’t a shred of disappointment or shame toward us, because Jesus took the fall in our place. He has taken every negative verdict toward us and turned it into a “Not guilty.” He has released us from our own, self-imposed prison and told us we can live free. He has shown mercy to those once called, “No Mercy.” He has said to those once called “Not My People” that “You are my people.”
Because of Jesus, everything that’s true about Jesus is true about us in God’s eyes. He leaped over the bar of God’s law in our place, then got crushed by the bar of God’s law in our place, so that the burden of both would be lifted from our shoulders. Now, we who trust in Jesus are embraced by God as radiant, beautiful, lovable, and guilt-free, all of the time, on our best and also our worst days.
Because it’s not about what we do for him.
It’s about what he has done, and continues to do, for us.
He who began a good work in us will faithfully complete that work.
What better reason to start getting honest about our lives—that we are incomplete works in progress on the way to being made complete—without fear of being rejected or dismissed?
Take heart. In Jesus, you are loved. In Jesus, there will always be a seat for you at the King’s table. Jesus, your Elder Brother, is not ashamed of you.
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Scott Sauls is senior pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, Tennessee, and author of Jesus Outside the Lines: A Way Forward for Those Who are Tired of Taking Sides. You can connect with Scott at scottsauls.com or on Twitter at @scottsauls.
Originally published at scottsauls.com. Used with permission.
Finding Release From Our Spiritual Mistresses
God’s intention is to restore believers in Christ and turn them into new people. “If anyone is in Christ,” the Scripture says, “he is a new creation. The old has gone and the new has come.” As Christians, it is our job to cooperate with this new creation vision for our lives. Our motivation for embracing newness of life in Jesus is quite different than moralistic motivation. Religious moralists obey God’s rules to feel morally straight and morally superior, and also to earn applause from God, from others, and even from themselves. Christians, on the other hand, are able to obey God precisely because they don’t have to.
Let me explain that one.
If you are a Christian—that is, if you have anchored your trust in the perfect life and substitutionary death of Jesus on your behalf, then you need to know that God smiles over you before you lift a finger to do anything good. Christianity is different than moralism. In that unlike moralism, God’s embrace comes to us at the beginning of our journey versus at the end of our journey. He approves of us not because we are good people, but because Jesus was a truly good person in our stead. His moral straightness, his righteousness, and beauty have been laid upon us as a gift. That, and that alone, is the reason we obey . . . because it makes us want to obey. God does not decide to love us because we first loved him. No, we love God because he first loved us. That is biblical Christianity.
How idolatry works
Imagine you are a married woman and your husband tells you he wants to start dating around. “It’s not that I don’t love you,” he says. “I’m not saying that I want a divorce. You are extremely important to me. We have been through so much together. But I just think that my life would be more complete if I could also date some other women—play the field a little bit, you know?”
Absurd as this may sound, this is precisely what we do to God whenever we disobey him. Every act of disobedience flows from a desire for something or someone besides God to be our first love, our true north, our reason for being. Each of us has his/her own unique potential mistresses—whether money, power, cleanliness, control, relationships, material things, entertainment, or even a spouse or children. Whenever anything becomes more essential to us than God himself (by the way, anything is usually a good thing), it becomes an idol. According to God, our true and everlasting Husband, we become spiritual adulterers. An idol is any person or idea, any created thing that captures our deepest affections and loyalties and will—and in so doing steals our attention away from God. An idol is anything that becomes more precious to us than him. It’s not that we love the thing (whatever it is) too much. Rather, it’s that we love God too little in comparison to it.
Idolatry is the sin beneath every other sin
Idolatry is the root beneath all sin and beneath every choice we ever make to go our own way instead of following Jesus in faith and obedience. Sin, ultimately, is not a matter of behavior, but a matter of desire.
We always obey that which we desire the most.
When we desire something more than we desire God, we will obey that something if ever and whenever we are faced with a choice to obey God or to obey it. So this is what keeps us from being good in the purest sense. Our distorted over-desires escort us into the arms of adulterous lovers, pseudo-saviors, counterfeit Jesuses that put a spell on us and make them appear more life-giving than Jesus, our one true love.
How do we do this? Thanks to David Powlison and his insightful essay, Idols of the Heart and Vanity Fair, there are several diagnostic questions that can help us effectively identify and name our specific spiritual mistresses:
- What do I feel I cannot survive or function without? What do I feel I must have in order to enjoy life, be acceptable as a person, etc.? What are the things I am terrified of losing or obsessed about having?
- Where do I spend my time and money with the least amount of effort? The things we give time and money to most effortlessly are absolutely the things that we worship and serve. They are the things that we believe in our hearts will give our lives the most meaning.
- What do I think and talk about the most? Where do my thoughts go most quickly and most instinctively when I am alone in the car, when I awake, when I am alone in a quiet, undistracted place? As Archbishop William Temple once said, “Your religion is your solitude.”
- Which biblical commands am I most reluctant to obey? What do I treasure so much that, if it is threatened, I will disobey God to keep it? What is so essential to me that I will disobey God to get it?
- What things anger me the most? What kinds of people, things, or circumstances irritate me the most, and what about these people, things, or circumstances give them this kind of power over me? What, if it happened, would strongly tempt me to curse God or push Him out of my life? (Remember Job’s wife. See Job 2:9)
- How would I fill in the blank? I cannot and will not be happy unless.
Dismantling idols after they are identified
Idols are dismantled when they are first exposed and then replaced. Dismantling our idols requires that we labor in our study and meditation of Scripture to understand the many ways that Jesus fills our emptiness in a much more adequate, life-giving way than any Jesus-substitute we may be tempted to worship and serve. Replacing our spiritual mistresses means giving them a back seat to Jesus in our hearts and lives. Basically, every idol (and every sin) traces back to a self-salvation strategy. We use this strategy every time we attempt to replace something that only Jesus can provide, with a counterfeit. What does this mean for us?
It means that we must face head-on our own idols, and humbly admit exactly how the things we love more than Jesus will reduce us, empty us of ultimate meaning, and even destroy us. We must admit that our “over-desires” cannot bring us the lasting wholeness, happiness, or fulfillment (salvation!) we desire. Only Jesus can. Ironically, only when we love Jesus more than these things, we actually end up enjoying these things to a much fuller extent! As CS Lewis once said, “Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you will get neither.”
When our love for Jesus exceeds our love for other things, we end up loving, cherishing, and enjoying these other things even more than we would if we had loved these other things more than we love Jesus. However, if we put the gifts in the place of the Giver, our enjoyment of the gifts ends up being spoiled. Why is this so? It is so because we are made in the image of God. The human soul is so magnificent that only God is big enough to fill it. As Pascal is famous for saying, “Only God is able to fill the God-shaped vacuum in the human heart.”
Be possessive of anything but God—a romantic interest, a career, a net worth, a life goal—and you will never possess that thing. Instead, it will eventually possess you. It will have you and it will hold you . . . around the neck! This is why we are much better off when we learn to pray like the Puritan who had nothing to his name but one piece of bread and a glass of water: “What? All of this and Jesus Christ too!”
Redirecting our deepest loves
Christian growth is about learning to see clearly that Jesus will fill our hearts in much more adequate and enduring ways than any Jesus-counterfeit ever will. Using Scripture, we must immerse our minds and stir our affections with the many ways in which Jesus delivers fully and truly on the specific promises—especially the promises that our specific idols falsely make to us. For example, if we thirst for approval, only the unwavering smile of God over us through Jesus can free us from enslavement to human approval. Or, if we hunger for secure provision, only the God’s sure promise to take care of us like he does the birds and the lilies can free us from our enslavement to money and things.
So what about you? What are your spiritual mistresses? How are they working out for you?
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for his righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
—
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.
Originally posted at www.scottsauls.com. Used with permission.
Sabotaging Your Kingdom
Ambitions silently attach themselves to disciples who work for the Kingdom of God. The desire to be known. To be recognized. To be wanted. To be in demand. To make a name for yourself. To have a calendar full of important speaking engagements. We each indulge our favorite flavor. And often we think we’re helping Jesus out when we do it. With the same effect of a succulent burger ad, we salivate. Then we order “it.” We order to get what we saw the happy, successful Kingdom-workers enjoying. Then we pay for it. We justify a real sacrifice to get what others have and we want. Then we open the box. We encounter a disparity between the mess we’ve ordered and are experiencing and what was seductively held up to us through someone else’s life.
Two years ago, in the middle of my self-created busyness and self-supposed importance, I realized how desperately I was straining to be known. I was confronted with the reality that all of the “kingdom” work I was doing was really a convenient front for another empire I was building. My own.
In his book, Sensing Jesus, Zach Eswine recounts a jolt he received from a mentor (p. 243):
Bob looked at me.
“Zachary,” he said, “You are already discovered.”
“What?” I asked.
“I want you to know that you are already discovered. Jesus already knows you. You are already loved, already gifted, already known.”
Is that enough for us? To be known by Jesus? If you and I are never “discovered,” will our hearts survive?
Although this temptation is greatly pronounced in our modern evangelical celebrity culture, it is not a new problem. The Apostle Paul observed the same sin in the church while he sat in a Philippian jail. “Some preach Jesus out of rivalry and envy” (Phil 1:15). Paul was aware that many used the Kingdom of God as a platform to serve a more personal agenda—the kingdom of self.
I confess the sickness of my own heart and am disgusted by the surfacing of these motives in it. I’ve begun to wonder, “How can I destroy my kingdom? What measures must I take to keep my intentions and affections in check?”
Well, here are three habits I’ve begun to cultivate in response to this tension. In many ways these practices have the power to help us “seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness.”
1. Cultivate a Skepticism Towards Your Use of Social Media and Entertainment
I was about to drop the name of an impressive leader with whom I’d met to another impressive individual with whom I was tweeting. It was relevant to our conversation on international church planting trends. Though just before firing off the message, I realized the pride that was embedded in it. I didn’t send the message.
I’m fascinated by how social media affects our daily lives. People now sleep with their smart phones. I would never do that! I just kept it on my nightstand for a while, and during that time the first thing I would do in the morning is check my Facebook, Twitter, and e-mail. You might feel that’s bad. Or you might feel it’s acceptable. I’m not interested in the verdict. I’m primarily intrigued by what my behavior tells me about my heart. What is it that drives the average American to check their smart phone 150 times a day?
In a real sense, we are tempted by a desire for omnipresence. Social media propagates the idea that we can be in more than one place at the same time. The idea that I can maintain the awareness of what 900 “friends” are up to indulges the illusion of real engagement with their lives. I can like a status. Or try to post a status or picture that will compel others to engage with me through clicking “like.” Resultantly, many sociologists have observed that social media leads to more interactions – but not more meaningful interactions.
My love for TV furthers my desire for omniscience. When my son crashes around 9 p.m. or so, my wife and I use all the energy left in our bodies to drag ourselves onto the couch. We then transport ourselves to the wilderness of Alaska. Or into a crowd watching America’s favorite dancers. We become part of an exciting auction. For a moment, we aren’t full-time working, toddler-worn parents. We are in a different place and part of a different story.
I’m not condemning social media or TV, but I do want to cultivate a healthy skepticism for my use of both. What does the frequency of your social media usage say about your heart? What does your compulsive need to rest via TV say about your soul?
2. Combat Boredom by Embracing the Ordinary and Mundane
In Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton has said that we must learn to “exult in monotony.” Why? If the ordinary moments of life are not deserving of celebration, then life itself is not worthy of being lived. The essence of boredom is discontentment with “what is” and a desire to be somewhere else, doing something else. This state of being indicates that we do not yet possess gratitude for our lives. We haven’t yet absorbed the simple weight of what it means to be able to change diapers, pay taxes, and put in contact lenses.
“For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony” says Chesterton. “But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun; and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike, it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never gotten tired of making them.”
What would it mean to oppose your boredom for the sin that hides beneath it? How might you and I come to celebrate those moments that leave us wishing we were present in another place and time? Perhaps, we were made to live like Jesus in life’s most simple moments. The Son of Man built stuff with wood in Nazareth for two decades. Perhaps, this is the kind of life Paul had in view when he said that we should seek to lead, “a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Tm 2:2). If something in your soul recoils at this prospect, what is that part of you?
German theologian, Jurgen Moltmann, observed, “The knowledge of the cross brings a conflict of interest between God who has become man and man who wishes to become God.” The incarnation speaks to the astonishing reality that God was willing to become “one of us.” Furthermore, the Son became the very best “one of us” who ever lived. The Son was the most fully human human being who has ever been. He relinquished the benefits of his membership in the Trinity so that he could live life as you and I.
But the ironic tension Moltmann noted is that although God descended to be with us, our universal desire is to ascend to the place of God. In many ways, I deny the limits of my humanity and posture myself as divine.
If the most human human being experienced life the way it was intended to be by occupying one place (an obscure and impoverished town) and simply “being there,” what can that teach us about embracing the glamour-less moments and places we tend to despise in our lives?
3. Remain Aware of What Your Worship is Doing
My sin causes me to love the wrong things. I am a “desiring being.” I have cravings that actually shape my entire person. These “wants” form me, rippling out from the core of my being and driving my thoughts, will, emotions, and behavior. This is what it means to be a worshiper. I am always worshiping and must remain conscious of what my heart is treasuring.
I must constantly ask myself, “What am I looking for right now? What is it that I most deeply want?” Sometimes it may be important to even ask a layer beneath that, “I crave acknowledgement. Why do I want that acknowledgement? What am I hoping it will do for me?”
Conversing with the Father after viewing both him and ourselves in the mirror of Scripture leads us to pray, “Your Kingdom come.” And when we pray with this heart, we are killing our own kingdoms.
There are moments I sit quietly with the Father, unable to offer my Creator any kind of adoration. I remain silent, wondering why I can’t piece together some string of affection that would communicate a perception of his worth. And then I realize why I can’t. I can’t worship God because I am simultaneously pouring out my heart to something else. There’s something that I want more than him. There is some good “second thing” that I have enthroned as my ultimate thing.
And then I have to do something even more pathetic. I must ask God to change what I want. The convenience of more superficial sanctification is that I can change myself. I can modify my behavior. I can filter my thoughts and words. But I am powerless to change what my heart wants. Only God can do that for me.
* * * *
If your inner traitor is as sneaky as mine, then it’s almost certain there is a way in which you’ve been secretly siphoning off glory intended for God and stockpiling it for yourself.
There’s an impending rationale for why each of us must halt construction of our personal kingdoms immediately. One day, Jesus will take possession of the kingdoms of this world. He will set up his rule on Earth, and it will never end. You and I will sit under his rule as willing captives to his unmatchable radiance.
Then for many of us, the tears of regret will come. On that day, we will wish we could relive each hour we spent preoccupied with building our own kingdoms. Jesus will then wipe away tears of regret.
With the vision of the New Jerusalem coming down from heaven in mind, let’s skip back a few scenes. Skip back to right now. Invite God to help you sabotage your kingdom so that you can begin to truly live in his. It’s not a kingdom where you rule. It’s a better and enduring empire.
—
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.
