Gospel Amnesia: An Interview with Luma Simms
Luma Simms recently wrote Gospel Amnesia for GCD Books and it has helped many people see the gospel in a new way or even for the first time! In preparation for the release of the paperback version of the book, we asked Luma a few questions.
In a sentence, how would you define "gospel amnesia"?
Gospel amnesia is a name for the state of a Christian life that is characterized by marginalization, suppression, or degradation of one's consciousness of the gospel.
You say in the book that you suffered from gospel amnesia. What did this look like in your life?
Gospel amnesia manifested itself in my life in a variety of ways. One which stands out to me is what I call Progression Mode. I truly believed I had progressed past (matured beyond) the gospel because I thought of the gospel as a simple proposition—Jesus died on the cross for your sins (i.e. justification)—and then we move on. I was obsessed with becoming "more sanctified." This "sanctification" turned into a long list of extra-biblical life choices I had raised to the level of salvific importance. Another manifestation of gospel amnesia in my life was a heart full of scorn, criticism and derision for any Christian or church which did not believe what I believed, and practice all the secondary issues I had raised to primary importance.
How does the gospel fight against this type of amnesia?
The cross work of Jesus Christ tethers you to the reality of who you are as a human being. At the foot of the cross, arrogance, anger, and angst melt away and our anthropocentric existence breaks down. The beauty at the heart of the gospel is the cross work of Jesus Christ. When the person of Christ, when Jesus, becomes a conscious presence in our life—and this happens as we meditate, dwell, and preach the gospel to ourselves every day—it staves off our tendency toward amnesia.
What unique message does this book have to offer?
Many people talk about "forgetting" the gospel, often in the context of carelessness or lukewarmness. What is unique about Gospel Amnesia is that I also point out the often intentional efforts we in our sinful hearts make that end up pushing the gospel out of our consciousness, and I try to show exactly what that looks like for individuals, churches, denominations, and the Church corporately.
You can also check out other interviews with Luma here and see the book's page with endorsements here.
_
Luma Simms (@lumasimms) is a wife and mother of five delightful children between the ages of 1 and 18. She studied physics and law before Christ led her to become a writer, blogger, and Bible study teacher. She is the author of Gospel Amnesia: Forgetting the Goodness of the News. She blogs regularly at Gospel Grace.
What Is Our Advent Mission?
A danger lurks in our endeavors to live incarnationally. Danger, yes, but not deterrent. It is a risk worth taking, though not treating lightly.
The danger is that we can subtly begin to key on ourselves, rather than Jesus, when we think of what Christian mission is and what incarnation means. Over time we start to function as if Christian mission begins with, and centers on, our intentionality and relationality. What really excites us is not the old, old story, but our new strategies for kingdom advance. Almost imperceptibly we’ve slowly become more keen how we can copy Jesus than the glorious ways in which we can’t.
But thankfully the Advent season, and its annual buildup to Christmas Day, serves as an important periodic reminder that the most important part of the Christian mission isn’t the Christian, but the Christ.
Our little efforts at incarnational living, courageous and self-sacrificial as they may be, are only faint echoes of the world-altering, one-of-a-kind Incarnation of the very Son of God. And if Christian mission doesn’t flow from and toward the worship of the Incarnate One, we’re really just running round the hamster wheel.
Jesus Sends Us
Make no mistake about it, Christians are sent. Jesus prays to his Father in John 17:18, “As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” In identifying with Jesus, we are not only “not of this world,” but also sent right back into it on redemptive mission.
The classic text is Jesus’ commission at the end of John’s Gospel: “As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you” (John 20:21). Those whom Jesus calls, he also sends — a sending so significant that receiving his “sent ones” amounts to receiving him. “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever receives the one I send receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me” (John 13:20).
Such a sending should be awe-inspiring, whether our particular sending includes a change in geography and culture, or simply a fresh realization and missional orientation on our lives and labors among our native people.
But what are we “sent ones” sent for? What is this sending about anyways? Merry Christmas.
Why We’re Sent
This is where the Advent reminder is so essential. We are sent as representatives of the one born in Bethlehem and crucified at Calvary. We are sent to announce with all we are — with mouth and mind and heart and hands — that the Father sent the Son.
We are sent to say and show that Jesus was sent into the world to save sinners (1 Timothy 1:15). What we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus and the good news about him (2 Corinthians 4:5). We are not the message, but mere messengers.
Which means that Jesus’ sent status is in a class by itself. He was not only sent as the preeminent Messenger, but sent as the Message himself. Jesus’ “sentness” is primary and ultimate. Our sentness is at best secondary and derivative. Christmas is a reminder of the primacy of Jesus as the Sent One.
His Ultimate and Utterly Unique Sending
That the Father sent his Son to share fully in our humanity is no mere model for mission. It is at the very heart of the gospel which our mission aims to spread. Christian mission exists only because the Message still needs to be told.
Jesus’ mission is unrepeatable. His Incarnation is utterly unique. We are meager delegates, unworthy servants. The more attention we give to the ultimately inimitable condescension of the Son of God, the less the language of “incarnation” seems to apply to our measly missional efforts.
Whatever condescensions and sacrifices we embrace along the path of gospel advance, they simply will not hold a candle to the Light of the world and his divine stooping to take our humanity and endure the excruciating death on our behalf.
Incarnation Inimitable
Because he was in the very form of God, Jesus “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6–8).
Is there something here to mimic? Yes, in some distant sense. But in the main, this Incarnation is not about what we are to do, but about what has been done for us.
So before going on too long about our mission as Christians, let’s give due attention — the attention of worship — to the Jesus whose mission showed us God and accomplished our eternal salvation. The great missio Dei (mission of God) finds its most significant meaning in the Father sending of his own Son not only as the high point and center of the universe and all history, but also the very focus of eternal worship. Our sending, then, empowered by his Spirit, is to communicate and embody that central message, and so rally fellow worshipers.
Our Mission Echoes His
What is the place then, if any, for the talk and tactics of Christians living incarnationally? So far our plea has been that we not obscure the important distinction between Jesus’ matchless Incarnation as Message, and our little incarnational attempts at being his faithful messengers in word and deed.
But are there any applications to make?
Donald Macleod is perhaps as zealous as anyone that the unparalleled condescension of Jesus in the Incarnation not be obscured. Macleod’s book The Person of Christ (InterVarsity, 1998) is a Christological masterpiece, and his sixth chapter, simply called “The Incarnation,” is about as good as it gets. And while his record of uncompromising Christological reflection speaks for itself, this same author would have us imitate Jesus’ incarnational self-condescension. Macleod writes elsewhere:
[Jesus] did not, as incarnate, live a life of detachment. He lived a life of involvement.
He lived where he could see human sin, hear human swearing and blasphemy, see human diseases and observe human mortality, poverty and squalor.
His mission was fully incarnational because he taught men by coming alongside them, becoming one of them and sharing their environment and their problems.
For us, as individuals and churches in an affluent society, this is a great embarrassment. How can we effectively minister to a lost world if we are not in it? How can we reach the ignorant and the poor if we are not with them? How can our churches understanding deprived areas if the church is not incarnate in the deprived areas? How can we be salt and light in the darkened ghettos of our cities if we ourselves don’t have any effective contacts and relationships with the Nazareths of [our day]?
We are profoundly unfaithful to this great principle of incarnational mission.
The great Prophet came right alongside the people and shared their experience at every level.
He became flesh and dwelt among us.
(A Faith to Live By: Understanding Christian Doctrine, 139, paragraphing added)
Macleod believes the language stretches sufficiently. There’s enough elasticity to talk of our incarnational mission without obscuring Jesus’. But to do so, we need Advent’s reminder again and again.
The Centrality of Worship
Christmas reminds us that our life’s dominant note must not be our witness for Jesus, but our worship of Jesus.
Mission is a critical rhythm of the Christian life, an essential season of redemptive history. Our mission of extending Jesus-worship to others, local and global, should be a frequent check on the health of our own Jesus-worship. But mission for Jesus must never take the place of our worship of Jesus, lest the very mission become crudely distorted along with our own souls.
Our Eternal Theme: Worship, Not Mission
If the chief theme of our lives is not worshiping Jesus, enjoying God in him, and being freshly astounded by his grace toward us sinners, we have no good business endeavoring to bring others into an experience that we ourselves aren’t enjoying. And so it is not only the most missional among us, but all of us, who need reminding again and again, that mission “is not the ultimate goal of the church. Worship is.”
Year after year, Christmas summons us to think of ourselves as worshipers of Jesus much more than we think of ourselves as on-mission pastors, ministers, leaders, or laymen. May it be true of us this Christmas.
May Jesus, the Great Sent One, ever be central — mission included — and may the worship of the Incarnate One continually be the fuel and goal of our faint incarnational echoes.
_
David Mathis (@davidcmathis) is executive editor for Desiring God and an elder at Bethlehem Baptist Church in the Twin Cities. He and his wife, Megan, have twin sons and live in Minneapolis. David has edited several books, including Thinking. Loving. Doing., Finish the Mission, and most recently Acting the Miracle: God’s Work and Ours in the Mystery of Sanctification.
[This was originally posted at Desiring God.]
Thankfulness: Deep, Loud, & Dangerous
This week, everyone is talking about thankfulness, so it’s especially important to ensure we understand it from a biblical perspective. The Bible of course has plenty to say on this subject. Among other things, it tells us that thankfulness is deeper, louder, and more dangerous than we might think.
Designed by God
Thankfulness goes much deeper than we might think. It’s not a human idea. In fact, it was in the Creator’s mind when he created. The Apostle Paul says food was created by God "to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth…" and then immediately goes on to broaden this out to ‘everything’ God created (1 Tim. 4:3-4). This is a massive theological claim. God created corn on the cob, steak, pasta, avocados (dare we say even brussel sprouts and liver?) with a specific purpose in mind: that they would be received and then result in thanksgiving flowing back to him. Even a grape and a tangerine can lead a purpose-driven life. Who knew that baby carrots and barbecue ribs and escargot had a telos? They do. So do sunsets and flowers and rain, and good conversations and sweet sleep. God intended them to produce thanksgiving. Thankfulness is the God-designed follow-through to God-given blessing.
Giving thanks to God is living along the grain of the universe, savoring God’s creation in sync with the Creator. It’s one of the very best ways of bringing glory to God (2 Cor. 4:15). On the other hand, enjoying a meal or conversation or movie without feeling thanks to God is a tragic exercise in missing the point. It’s a waste, like using a laptop as a paperweight. It’s a damaging mistake, like using a light bulb as a hammer.
Meant to Be Overheard
Thankfulness can be silent and personal. But very often it ought to be loud enough to be heard by others. Thankfulness wants to point others toward God. And it wants to be a group activity. "Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt his name together!" Thankfulness is much happier when someone else can say ‘amen’ (1 Cor. 14:16-17).
In John 11, God (the Son) gives thanks to God (the Father). Jesus stands before the tomb of Lazarus and prays aloud, "Father, I thank you that you have heard me." He then continues praying, stating to God why he said just thanks out loud: "I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me." In other words, Jesus gives thanks to God aloud because he wants the other people present to overhear his thanksgiving and believe in God and in his mission. That’s the whole point. Thankfulness is meant to point others toward God.
In Acts 27, the Apostle Paul is sailing for Rome as a prisoner. The ship he’s traveling on gets caught and driven along in a storm for many days, the crew frantically throwing all the cargo overboard. Finally, they approach land and spend a long night in the dark, anchors down. In the morning, here’s what happens: "Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, 'Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. Therefore I urge you to take some food. It will give you strength, for not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you.' And when he had said these things, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat."
I love this little phrase "…and giving thanks to God in the presence of all..." It had been fourteen days since Paul had eaten! He must have been starving. Here was bread in his hands, finally. But he paused and prayed. He gave thanks ‘in the presence of all’ – clearly meaning for these sailors to learn something about God and about the purpose of food. Paul was living with the grain of the universe, going vertical with thanks, and doing it loud enough for others to hear.
Easily Misused
But thankfulness can be dangerous. It’s striking that in the famous story of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:9-14), the one who’s recorded as expressing thankfulness is the Pharisee. "God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get." Of course, this isn’t true thankfulness. True thankfulness is a posture of great humility before God the giver. The Pharisee is using his supposed thankfulness in order to puff himself up. He’s taking something designed to make much of God and instead using it to make much of himself. His thankfulness is false cover for his pride. The spotlight operator has turned the spotlight from the stage and is now standing, lit up with ludicrous glory, on the balcony. Pathetic and bizarre. God is clearly not pleased with this perversion of thankfulness. He rejects the Pharisee.
But lest we run too quickly to judgment… have we ever used thankfulness amiss? Have we ever publicly thanked God for an accomplishment and in so doing, wished for the accomplishment to be known more than the One we’re thanking? Have we ever tweeted "Thankful to God that my new article…my most recent speaking engagement…my kids…" and mainly used our thankfulness to announce our latest achievement? Maybe? Just saying. How easy it is for the spotlight to turn from the stage to the stage hand.
This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for thankfulness, thankful that God has built it into the fabric of the universe, maximizing both his glory and our joy as we live in sync with his design.
_
Stephen Witmer is Pastor of Pepperell Christian Fellowship in Pepperell, MA and teaches New Testament at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. He is the author of the forthcoming Eternity Changes Everything: How to Live Now in the Light of Your Future (Good Book Company). Follow him on Twitter: @stephenwitmer1.
Confessions of a Bible Thumper
I became a Christian at the age of eight, at Round Pond Presbyterian Church in Franklin, KY, where my uncle was the pastor. While witnessing communion during a Sunday service I began to understand the gospel in a new way: that I was a sinner and that Christ had rescued me. I was baptized two weeks later in Sulphur Fork Creek on the county line. In the years that followed, my life as a disciple was characterized by varying degrees of knowing and doing. In my youth I was passionate about what I knew of Scripture and what I was learning. I would gather my friends together in the school cafeteria to read and discuss the Bible. God used my seemingly insatiable desire to learn the Bible. Years later my walk of faith was characterized by action as I was seeking to do the things I was learning from Scripture. I was passionate about evangelism and overseas missions, tirelessly pursuing active ministry and calling others to follow.
Throughout the years I pursued discipleship through various means: different books, methods, churches, para-church ministries, and mentoring relationships. These experiences were life-changing for me yet I was still seeking the best way to be both a disciple and a disciple maker, trying to balance the knowing and doing of the Bible. I discovered that discipleship was not only knowing and doing, but also being and becoming. This process of transformation involves Scripture and others in Christian community. My love for Scripture grew. This eventually led me to seminary at which time the vision for a new church in my hometown began to take shape.
My experiences have led me to the conviction that discipleship is a life-long pursuit and an ongoing process of transformation by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit who worked in and through Scripture is also at work in and through God’s people. I am increasingly convinced that discipleship methods based on biblical ideas and principles alone, though good and helpful, can remain short-sighted of the gospel.
Theology in Practice
Theology must be practiced. The doctrine of Scripture is of utmost importance for Christian discipleship. Scripture is God’s written record of the gospel story in which we find our own story. The Holy Spirit uses Scripture as a means of grace – the Spirit and Word go together.1 Scripture must play a prominent role in discipleship as the Holy Spirit works through the Word to grow us into the image of Christ personally, as well as grow us in community – faithful to the Great Commission. Christian discipleship, therefore, must be saturated in Scripture.
A disciple’s greatest need is to be constantly reminded of the gospel, as well as his or her new identity, community, and mission. The Bible explicitly reminds us of all this. Therefore, no matter our stage of faith or role in discipleship, we ought to evaluate our view and use of Scripture personally and in our community of faith. My prayer is that we have biblical expectations in discipleship. My hope is not only that you fall more in love with God's Word, but that you fall even more in love with the God whose Word it is.
Defining Discipleship
Throughout high school and college I played in various bands. A friend and fellow musician discovered the band Phish and quickly labeled himself a “phish head.” He wore tie dyed clothing branded by the band, made mix tapes to give his friends, and toured with the band. Phish greatly influenced my friend’s musical style in songwriting and performance. Phish was an identity he owned while connecting with a community of other fans on mission to spread the music. This is a great portrait of discipleship.
A disciple is a student who becomes more like his teacher. As a follower, a disciple takes on the characteristics of the one he follows. The characteristics bring about transformation and prompt action. By nature a disciple reproduces his discipleship, calling others to study and follow the one he follows. Discipleship is an identity that shapes community and fuels a mission.
For Christians, our identity, community, and mission are defined by the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel is good news that evokes faith – ongoing relational trust in the person and work of Christ. The gospel, therefore, is good news that we learn. This good news shapes not only our beliefs, but also our motivations, actions, and relationships. We learn the gospel, relate in light of the gospel, and communicate the gospel on mission together.2 Gospel learning takes place primarily through Scripture. Gospel relating is done in the context of community. Gospel communication, by proclamation and demonstration, is the nature of mission by which others learn the gospel and become disciples. Christian disciples, therefore, are both relational learners and relational teachers.
In Matthew 28:18-20, Jesus announces, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”3 In the Great Commission, the disciples see their identity as disciples in the context of a community on mission with the good news to make disciples. Sent by Christ himself, the disciples represent the redemptive authority of Christ. Jesus does not provide an explicit methodology, but informs the mission to “make disciples” which includes “teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” To this we must ask three questions: What has Christ commanded? How are we to teach? What are disciples to observe?
Information, Application, Transformation
The gospel commission to make disciples involves information, application, and transformation. “Teaching” is the information of the gospel. Jesus states that all Scripture bears witness about him (John 5:39) and that Scripture written about him in the law of Moses, Psalms, and Prophets would be fulfilled in him (Luke 24:44). Since all Scripture is about Christ, this is what we are to teach. This is the information of the gospel.
Secondly, we see the application of the gospel in “to observe all that I have commanded you.” Teaching is not a one-time passing of information, but the ongoing action of kneading the gospel into the hearts and minds of disciples through observing what has been taught. When questioned by the religious elite of the day, Jesus replies, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” In quoting Scripture from Deuteronomy 6, Jesus displays his authority over the Old Testament as well as the continuity of God’s redemptive plan in gospel discipleship.
Thirdly, we see transformation in Christian discipleship. Discipleship begins with Christ (“all that I have commanded you”), involves a teaching disciple (“teaching”) and a learning disciple (“to observe”). Yet teaching information alone is not sufficient in becoming a disciple. Likewise, merely adhering to what is taught or commanded does not truly encompass discipleship. True discipleship in light of the gospel gives disciples of Christ a new identity that results in new action. This transformation is a work of the Holy Spirit that includes both instant and ongoing action.
Short-Sighted Discipleship
During our first year of marriage, my wife and I took a trip to the Grand Canyon. We rented a car and took our time enjoying the scenery of the Arizona desert. Following the signs to the canyon, we made our way into the national park, parked the car, and walked to the rim to enjoy a beautiful sunset. The purpose of the signs was to lead us to the canyon rim. Once on the rim, we no longer looked at the signs that led us there, but rather we focused on what the signs led us to: the painted pastels of the Grand Canyon.
In Christian discipleship, methods and traditions are like signs that point us to Christ. They can be helpful and beautiful. These signs are meant to be imprinted with Scripture. By Scripture we see who Christ is and what he’s done, and thus who we are and how we are to live. Scripture points us to the kind of disciples we are and are becoming, and what kind of disciples we are making. Often our discipleship methods become short-sighted, like signs that lead us to the very rim of the canyon only to be missing the clear text. In return, we focus on the sign itself, tragically missing the beauty of the canyon.
In 1 Timothy 6:3-4a, Paul offers instruction on discipleship, “If anyone teaches a different doctrine and does not agree with the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teaching that accords with godliness, he is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing.” Paul highlights two features of Christian doctrine: “the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ” and “teaching that accords with godliness.” These two go together and cannot be separated. These “sound words” refer to the Lord’s message of the gospel.4 These words come from the Lord directly and through His apostles and teachers.5 Paul warns against doctrine contrary to Christ and teaching that does not line up with godliness. In other words, Paul is providing warning against discipleship that loses sight of Christ and the gospel.
How do we know our doctrine lines up with “the sound words” and “teaching that accords with godliness?” Without the Apostles present with us, how do we determine what is Christ-focused and gospel-centered? The answer: Scripture.
Scripture is of both Divine and Human origin. The Holy Spirit uses Scripture as a means of grace for the identifying and shaping of disciples. Paul writes in 2 Timothy 3:16, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.” The Holy Spirit works in and through Scripture through inspiration. Likewise, the Holy Spirit identifies us as disciples (Ephesians 1:13), dwells in our community of disciples (1 Cor. 3:17, 6:19), and by illumination gives us understanding so that we may obey Jesus by making disciples (Titus 3:5, 2 Thess. 2:13, Acts 1:8). How we view the Holy Spirit and Scripture will influence how we grow as disciples and how we make disciples.
Here we stand, on the rim of the canyon, reflecting on the signposts that have led us here. Over the coming chapters may we evaluate our view and use of Scripture in discipleship. May our life, doctrine, and practice agree with the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ.
--
Jeremy Carr (ThM, MDiv) is lead teaching pastor and co-founding elder of Redemption Church in Augusta, GA. He has been a member of the Acts 29 Network since 2007 and has written for the Resurgence. Jeremy is husband to Melody and father to Emaline, Jude, Sadie, and Nora. He is the Author of Sound Words: Listening to the Scriptures published by GCD Books. Twitter: @pastorjcarr.
[This is an excerpt adapted from Jeremy's new book, Sound Words: Listening to the Scriptures. Download and read the entire book for $3.99 at GCD Books.]
4 Ways to Avoid Health and Wealth Parenting
Right now my daughter Maddy doesn’t see the beauty of the storm. She is afraid of thunder and lightning. She could be dead asleep and, within minutes of the first crash of thunder, she’s awake, alert, and calling for mommy or daddy. Her fear has come into focus this summer because in South Carolina, we’ve had a flood of rain this year. When these quick storms first began, I found myself comforting my daughter by saying something like, “Don’t worry. God created the thunder and you don’t have anything to worry about.”
It’s true that she doesn’t have much to worry about in our home when it’s thundering and lightning outside, but the more I thought about the way I approached this situation, the more I realized that I was comforting my children in this way a lot of the time. I was taking the easy way out, promising comfort in exchange for tears.
Then it hit me. The gospel I was rehearsing to them was a health and wealth gospel, a skewed view of God’s sovereignty in pain and suffering.
“God loves you, so nothing bad will happen.”
“You don’t need to worry about living in a fallen world if you just have enough faith.”
“The reality of suffering will never touch you.”
If we preach this kind of gospel to our children now, how will they respond when sin touches their life? How will they respond when they see death ravage a loved one? How will they respond when they are ridiculed by their peers?
We do serve the God who created all things with the power of his word. He does providentially control all of creation. He does sovereignly work things for our good in Christ. But sometimes that means we will suffer. My children need to know this.
As I talked to friends with children and also recalled interactions, I’ve heard between parents and kids, I don’t think this approach is uncommon. As I said, it’s easy. It doesn’t require us to engage in hard conversations. But I want to offer a gospel-motivated, gospel-driven alternative for us as parents. Here are four ways that we can avoid health and wealth parenting.
1. Teach Our Children to Rest in the Love and Sovereignty of God
First, we must urge our children to trust the God who loves us and is sovereign over everything. We must not downplay these truths. They are not in opposition; rather they fit together like a puzzle. The sovereignty of God is not a hammer. It’s a pillow and blanket. The most fearful thing I can think of is living in a world where God is not in control, where he is taken by surprise, where he loves us but is powerless over our suffering.
The love of God is not squishy like a jellyfish. He doesn’t love us in a way that’s not tangible. He loves us in the form of Jesus Christ. God sent his own Son to die for us while we were yet sinners. If God uses “the hands of lawless men” who would crucify Jesus, for his “definite plan” (Acts 2:23), he will use our suffering in his plan as well. These two truths are bound together eternally. You will not find God’s love expressed outside of his sovereign control. Our kids must see that God’s sovereignty is never expressed outside of his love.
2. Teach our Children to Pursue Jesus
Second, we must urge our children to steadfastly pursue Jesus. Jesus is their only hope. They have no other. If they pursue health, it will fail. If they pursue wealth, it will destroy them. If they pursue relationships, they will be let down. If they pursue fame, it bring them low. These are all things that when sought lead to destruction. But Jesus does not fail. He does not destroy. He does not let down. He does not bring low. He exalts.
If you teach your children to pursue to Jesus, they will lack nothing. He is pleasures forevermore. The loss of everything compared to gaining Jesus will in the end seem light and momentary. That can be hard to fathom now, but it will not be hard when our King returns.
Not only does he provide joy and hope in the midst of suffering, he also suffers alongside of us. He obeyed the law perfectly. He loved well. He lived life to its fullest. And he also suffered. Because of that, he knows what suffering feels like (Heb. 2:18). That’s important. You can also see how Jesus cares for others who suffer when he comforts Mary and Martha when Lazarus dies (John 11:1-45). He is genuinely sorrowful. He mourns with them. He is moved to tears by the suffering of his friends. We can expect Christ to have the same compassion with us. When pursued, Jesus provides joy and hope and he does so experientially.
3. Rehearse the Gospel through Tough Conversations
Third, we must rehearse the gospel through tough conversations. My oldest daughter Claire has often asked me, “Will you get old and die?” It’s odd that a child would think about death, but it is a reality in our world. Everyone dies. It would be easy to brush off her question and respond with something like, “Dad will never leave you. Don’t worry about that.” It’s a lot more beneficial to speak age appropriately and candidly. Something like, “Daddy will die someday. Death isn’t the way it should be. But you know something? We belong to God in life and death. He has promised to be faithful all the way until the end. Just like he’s faithful to me, he’ll be faithful to you. No matter what.”
Tough conversations are an opportunity to rehearse the gospel with our children. These are practice runs. These truths aren’t dusty. Everyone will meet circumstances where only the gospel makes sense of life. Rehearsing the gospel by having tough conversation prepares our children to respond well when those times come.
Athletes practice and practice and practice more to create muscle memory. They want to repeat their route, the play, or the motion so many times that when game time comes their bodies react instinctively. That’s gospel rehearsal. It’s spiritual muscle memory. We repeat the promises of God. We point them to Jesus Christ. We sear Scripture into their hearts. We teach them how to pray. These kinds of conversations may raise more questions. That’s okay. Without being candid with them, when “the sea billows roll,” our children may falter. With tough conversations rooted in gospel rehearsal, they will see the other side.
4. Respond Well When Suffering Comes
Finally, we must respond well when suffering comes. It will arise in some form or another. Some of us may fight cancer. Some of us might grieve over the death of a loved one. Some of us might fight against abuse. Some of us might feel the weight of injustice. Some of us might be killed. We shouldn’t downplay suffering. It’s a result of the Fall. But God will wipe away all tears and make all things new when he returns. We must stomp our feet, mourn, and be righteously angry over the sin and suffering that we experience in this world. But we must do this with Jesus Christ in view. We must suffer well.
We respond well because we are in Christ. He is our Head and we are his body. He is our trailblazer. The cross is beautiful because it absorbs our sin and suffering. When we sin against others, we can boldly repent, because Jesus bears the weight of our sins. We can also forgive others for the same reason. The same goes for suffering. It is not escapism. Or cheap grace. It is weighty grace. It is grace anchored in the bloody wounds of Jesus. We must respond well when we suffer so that our children know we take God at His word and the gospel is deadly serious to us. Our kids will see this, and through it they will see Jesus.
So let’s not promise our kids health and wealth. Let’s promise them Jesus Christ in life and death. Let’s promise them a God who is faithful through anything they may experience in this fallen world.
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!
Revising the Popular Phrase "In, but Not of"
“In, but not of”— if you’ve spent much time Christian circles, you’re probably familiar with this slogan. In the world, but not of the world. It captures a truth about Jesus’s followers. There’s a real sense in which we are “in” this world, but not “of” it.
In, but not of. Yes, yes, of course.
But might this punchy phrase be giving the wrong impression about our (co)mission in this world as Christians? The motto could seem to give the drift, We are in this world, alas, but what we really need to do is make sure that we’re not of it.
In this way of configuring things, the starting place is our unfortunate condition of being “in” this world. Sigh. And our mission, it appears, is to not be “of” it. So the force is moving away from the world. “Rats, we’re frustratingly stuck in this ole world, but let’s marshal our best energies to not be of it.” No doubt, it’s an emphasis that’s sometimes needed, but isn’t something essential being downplayed?
We do well to run stuff like this through biblical texts. And on this one in particular, we do well to turn to John 17, where Jesus uses these precise categories of “in the world” and “not of the world.” Let’s look for Jesus’s perspective on this.
Not of This World
On the eve of his crucifixion, Jesus prays to his Father in John 17:14–19,
I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth.
Notice Jesus’s references to his disciples being “not of the world.” Verse 14: “The world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world.” And there it is again in verse 16: “They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world.”
Let’s all agree it’s clear that Jesus does not want his followers to be “of the world.” Amen. He says that he himself is “not of the world,” and his disciples are “not of the world.” Here’s a good impulse in the slogan “in, but not of.”
It’s Going Somewhere
But notice that for Jesus being “not of the world” isn’t the destination in these verses but the starting place. It’s not where things are moving toward, but what they’re moving from. He is not of the world, and he begins by saying that his followers are not of the world. But it’s going somewhere. Jesus is not huddling up the team for another round of kumbaya, but so that we can run the next play and advance the ball down the field.
Enter verse 18: “As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” And don’t miss the surprising prayer of verse 15: “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one.”
Sent into This World
Jesus is not asking his Father for his disciples to be taken out of the world, but he is praying for them as they are “sent into” the world. He begins with them being “not of the world” and prays for them as they are “sent into” the world.
So maybe it would serve us better — at least in light of John 17 — to revise the popular phrase “in, but not of” in this way: “not of, but sent into.” The beginning place is being “not of the world,” and the movement is toward being “sent into” the world. The accent falls on being sent, with a mission, to the world — not being mainly on a mission to disassociate from this world.
Crucified to the World — And Raised to It
Jesus’s assumption in John 17 is that those who have embraced him, and identified with him, are indeed not of the world. And now his summons is our sending — we are sent into the world on mission for gospel advance through disciplemaking.
Jesus’s true followers have not only been crucified to the world, but also raised to new life and sent back in to free others. We’ve been rescued from the darkness and given the Light not merely to flee the darkness, but to guide our steps as we go back in to rescue others.
So let’s revise the popular phrase “in, but not of." Christians are not of this world, but sent into it. Not of, but sent into.
_
David Mathis (@davidcmathis) is executive editor for Desiring God and an elder at Bethlehem Baptist Church in the Twin Cities. He and his wife, Megan, have twin sons and live in Minneapolis. David has edited several books, including Thinking. Loving. Doing., Finish the Mission, and most recently Acting the Miracle: God’s Work and Ours in the Mystery of Sanctification.
[This was originally posted at Desiring God.]
Like Father, Like Sons
I attended three schools a year for a while. My dad was managing in professional baseball and decided early on that the family being together was worth the sacrifice, struggle, and difficulty of constantly having to travel and change schools, and the security of a “normal” home life.
Of course, I loved it. It was normal for me. Home was the clubhouse and the smell of pine tar, or the luggage rack on the bus where I would sleep as the team went from town to town. Home was watching my dad play cards on a cooler set in the aisle, covered with a towel to keep the cards from sliding off, holding a beer can in his lap. His there-ness far exceeded any inconvenience. How could anything else be an option?
After watching Bob Ross paint a "happy squirrel" and my sister and I trying to paint along—a kind of "paint by Ross" version of paint by numbers—I would take a quick afternoon nap and then head to the park with dad in time for batting practice. The nap was necessary because I would be at the park until about 11 o'clock at night.
I would hang out in his office, shag fly balls during batting practice, be the batboy for the game; occasionally I would see him get thrown out of a game for arguing with the umpire, or light up one of his players for some particular reason (usually disrespect of some kind, "This is a monologue, not a dialogue!").
Child psychologists would probably sniff their noses at my childhood, like dogs smelling meat, ready to pounce: “Children need stability!” Yes, they do, and the father is to be the anchor.
Secure as Sojourners
The Father’s children aren’t at home either (1 Pet. 2:11). Furthermore, our well-being doesn’t necessitate wealth, possessions, the best schools, or people who approve of us. What anchors us, why we are secure, why we are commanded countless times, “Do not fear!” is that the Father is with us.
See, it is easy to excuse your lack of there-ness with your desire to “give your children a better life” or “make sure they can get the best education.” Those are well-meaning desires, and a father should work hard to leave a good legacy to his children. We should plan well, save well, and block for our family like a bull-headed fullback paves the way for the tailback to get up field. That approach only works, however, if you are playing the same game, and if the goal is the end zone of our children knowing the Father—for that to happen, you have to be there.
I have never met someone who hated their father because he didn’t buy them a nice car; I have, however, met plenty of people with jacked up lives and relationships—with a degree from a reputable university hanging on the wall—because their dad was not ever home.
Paul Tripp tells a similar story:
“When I speak in churches, I often single out the men and challenge, ‘Some of you are so busy in your careers that you’re seldom home, and when you are, you are so physically exhausted that you have nothing to offer your children. You don’t even know your own kids. I offer a radical challenge to you. Go to your boss and ask for a demotion. Take less pay. Move out of that dream house and into a smaller one. Sell your brand new car and drive an older one. Be willing to do what God has called you to do in the life of your children.’
In a culture with two-income families, increasingly that challenge must also be made to women who also sacrifice family for career.
I made that appeal at one home-school conference and it angered a man in the crowd, although I didn’t know it at the time. Two years later he came over to me during a conference break. As he got closer, he began to weep. He said, ‘Two years ago I heard you give the challenge you just gave tonight and I got angry. I thought, What right do you have to say that? But I was haunted by your words. I thought, He’s speaking about me. My whole life is away from the home and I don’t know my own kids. I finally went to my boss one morning and said, ‘I want to talk to you about my position.’ My boss said, ‘Look, we’ve advanced you as much and as fast as we can.’ And I said, ‘No, no, just hear me, I want a demotion.’ The boss looked startled. He asked, ‘What are you talking about?’ I said, ‘The most important thing in my life is not this job. The most important thing is that God has given me five children. I‘m His instrument in forming their souls. But right now, I don’t even know my own kids.’
The boss said, ‘I’ve never heard this kind of conversation before and I’ll probably never hear it again. I’m very moved. We’ll find you a position where you can work forty hours a week. You can punch in and punch out and have less responsibility. But I’m not going to be able to pay you enough.’ I said, ‘That’s fine.’
We sold the house of our dreams, got rid of two luxury cars and bought a mini-van. It’s been two years now, and not one of my kids has come to me and said ‘Dad, I wish we lived in a big house,’ or ‘Dad, I wish we had new cars.’ But over and over again they have come and said, ‘Dad, we’ve been having so much fun with you. It’s great to have you around.’ Now, for the first time, I can say I know exactly where my children are. I know their hearts. I know what I need to be doing in their lives. I’m actually being a father.”
The Gospel is not a call to comfort. It is news that the Father wants to be with us and will sacrifice even His Son to do so. However, it is also a call to join the Father in what He is doing—saving sinners for His glory. He is not so concerned with our comfort, or our safety; He is not always concerned we are at the perfect church (His “school” for us); He is not losing sleep over how much He could provide us (for some, He gives great wealth, for others, just what they need to get by). He does, however, promise His presence is with us. Look at the shear tonnage of verses explicitly stating God’s there-ness and the context of the promise:
“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the LORD your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)
“No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your life. Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you . . . do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:5,9)
“Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” (Genesis 28:15)
“Then David said to Solomon his son, ‘Be strong and courageous and do it. Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed, for the LORD God, even my God, is with you. He will not leave you or forsake you, until all the work for the service of the house of the LORD is finished.’” (1 Chronicles 28:20)
“Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’” (Hebrews 13:5)
“And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’” (Matthew 28:18-20)
The call is never to comfort. In fact, quite the opposite. The demands are great: Leading people into the Promised Land, building a great temple that foreshadows Christ, obeying a radical call to contentment with money, and making disciples of all nations. The anchor in these great calls of sacrifice, discomfort, and lack of security is the presence of God. We could have all the money in the world, the best education, the safest (and nicest) cars, and still drift out to sea, the weight of all that “stuff” drowning us—we need the Anchor.
Quantity Time with Your Children
Quality time is a myth; your children need quantity time. You are their anchor. Your there-ness makes them feel safe, loved, and cared for. Furthermore, your calling is to disciple them. This means they are to go with you as you do life. Your children are not some slice of a pie that can be compartmentalized from the other pieces. Your children should help you around the house and go with you to do chores, and you should let them watch you in life—how else will they learn? Certainly there are times of sitting down and reading with them or playing with them, but it cannot just be that. Whenever you can, bring them along. This is how we are instructed to teach them all that God has commanded us:
“Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)
This is the foundational text for discipleship in parenting. The Christian life is not compartmentalized from “everyday” life; it saturates and permeates all of life—and your parenting does as well. How can we be faithful to this if we aren’t there?
The Father sacrificed much for you to be in His presence. As fathers imaging the Father, we must sacrifice time with the guys, hunting trips, late hours at work, and time at the golf course so that our children would be anchored—not adrift at sea, being “tossed to and fro by every wave of doctrine” (Eph. 4:14) or every swell the ideas and philosophies of this world ask them to surf in. It is our time, our there-ness, that they need.
_
Facing Our Identity Issues
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:
... people 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.
_
Jonathan K. Dodson (M.Div, Th.M) is happy husband to Robie, and proud father to Owen, Ellie & Rosamund. He is also the lead pastor of City Life church and a leader in The GCM Collective, PlantR, and Gospel Centered Discipleship.com. Jonathan is also author of Gospel-Centered Discipleship, Raised? Finding Jesus by Doubting the Resurrection (Feb, 2014). He enjoys listening to M. Ward, watching sci-fi, and following Jesus. Blogs at jonathandodson.org
When Suffering Sets Us Free
In the summer of 2008, my father stole my identity.
He racked up thousands of dollars on a couple of credit cards. A week later, I learned that a house my wife and I purchased was going into foreclosure because my father, the mortgage broker on the sale and the current property manager, was keeping the rent checks for himself instead of paying the bank.
I thought that this was the worst it could get. Then I ended up in a jail cell, on the receiving end of a federal investigation.
My dad, on the pretenses of what we thought was helping me and my wife out while in seminary, came up with an idea to buy a house. He was a mortgage broker, and my dad, so we trusted him. However, he used us to lie and defraud money out of lending companies and apparently, he did this with many other people. He was the ring leader of a massive fraud scheme, and the total amount of money he stole was in the millions.
The FBI eventually was able to catch up with him. Wanting to get a better deal from the government, he claimed that I was his accomplice. The more guilt he cast on others, the more lenient the prosecution would be in their recommendation of his sentencing, so it was in his best interest to lie and tell the authorities that I was just as guilty. The FBI eventually charged me and arrested me. My own father would be their star witness against me.
Without Hope
We lived in this horror for about a year and a half. We often didn’t have hope. We wanted to give up. I was in deep, dark depression.
While in jail, I wondered, how do I live a normal life when you don’t know if the next four years (the prison term, if found guilty) will be in separation from my wife? How do I provide for her and love her then? If I was found guilty of this crime that I was absolutely innocent of, what does that mean for me, being a pastor with a felony?
I often wondered, “Is God good? Does he love me?”
Eighteen months later, my case finally came to trial. If you have never been in a trial on the federal level, there is one word to describe it: intimidating. Okay, maybe two words: intimidating and exhausting. After a week that felt more like a year, the prosecution rested their case. The judge dismissed the case, saying that no evidence was brought against me to warrant me being there. I was free!
The judge looked me in the eye and said, “Son, you are free to go.”
What Was God Doing?
The betrayal I experienced was off the charts. The depression I experienced was immense. My wife and I had no category to process any of this; we were living life in a state of shock. If we could have ignored it, covered it up or forgotten about it, we would have. But we couldn’t. It was always there, festering in the back of our minds and haunting us.
It often felt like God didn’t know what he was doing. It felt like he didn’t have a purpose in our pain. Yet, a passage that helped us make sense of this was 2 Corinthians 1:3-7:
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.”
According to Paul in this passage, God’s mission in suffering is to comfort us, to comfort others, and to draw us near.
1. God Comforts Us
This passage talks much of comfort, but it is scary. It’s scary because the context of comfort is found in affliction. That means we are going to experience suffering. Sometimes we think that certain aspects of suffering are self-deserved or out of God’s limits, but this passage promises comfort in “all our affliction” because God is the God of “all comfort.” It is universal in scope. So even when there doesn’t seem to be a way out, when you are not in control, or even if your suffering is the product of your own sin, our good Father still promises comfort for his children.
And let’s get comfort right. Sometimes when we think about comfort we think about some form of a supernatural Snuggie, offering a mere reprieve from the troubles of this world. But this word 'comfort' comes with a sense of exhortation, of encouragement and the call to action.
This is no opiate of the masses; it is strength for the broken. God's comfort strengthens weak knees and sustains sagging shoulders so that one faces the troubles of life with unbending resolve and unending assurance.
My wife and I experienced many lows when going through my trial, but God gave us moments of supernatural comfort; comfort that allowed us to survive for that day.
Some of this might be seen as backward. Why would God allow suffering? After all, if he’s God, couldn’t he just cut out the middle man and give us comfort without the suffering? Instead of placing the problem with God, maybe the problem is with us. Franz Kafka has a great quote about books that applies even more to suffering: “A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.”
Suffering must be that ice-axe. Sometimes parts of us are so frozen and arctic that we need an axe to break us. At this point, it’s an axe of mercy, though the initial strike does hurt.
2. God Comforts Others
Though the comfort we receive from God is to see his glory extend over the whole earth to all types and kinds of people in all places. At first glance, suffering seems to be the opposite of this mission. But Paul teaches us that the comfort we get is for a purpose. We are objects of grace “so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction.” Our comfort is not just for us! When you receive comfort in suffering it isn’t just for you, it’s for others. Paul makes it personal saying that if he and Timothy run into trouble it’s for the sake of the church at Corinth. And if they get comfort in their trouble, it’s for the sake of the church at Corinth. There is an astonishing level of Christian solidarity being played out in Paul’s life.
How can Paul say this? How can I say this? Is it merely mustering up enough strength and making it happen? Paul tells us this is how it works: “For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.”
The foundation of this sharing comes in our unity in Christ. All believers share in Christ’s sufferings and comfort, and overwhelmingly so. It is because we are united to Christ that we can offer others the overflow of comfort. Not because we’re great at offering comfort, but because Christ is perfect at offering us comfort. Our work rests on him alone.
There is a great cost to withholding comfort from others. During the trial, if the people in our lives didn’t come around us and love us when we couldn’t go on, we’d be done for. We’ve been on the receiving end of comfort from others and we praise God for his people being faithful to extend that to us. And now that we’ve received this measure of grace, we are enabled to share it with others. We are more empathic. We are more patient. We are more loving to people in their distress. We are more able to come alongside those who are in situations that seem to offer no hope.
3. God Draws Us Near
God’s mission in suffering is also to draw us near to himself. Our comfort in suffering is an apologetic to ourselves; it existentially proves the gospel true. Verse 6 talks about enduring suffering. Endurance, unlike the main character in your typical Hollywood blockbuster, is something not dependent on yourself. Biblical endurance is an expectant waiting or intense desire directed towards God. If Christians endure, it’s because God enables it, not because they are extraordinarily heroic. The means that he ordains to this end is often His people, as in the previous point. God does not ordinarily draw us to Himself outside of the context of others. A sign of nearness to God is nearness to others.
If you’re feeling disobedient or not up to the task, take heart. The Corinthians were not known for being particularly obedient, yet Paul never loses confidence in them. Why is that? He tells us in verse 7 that this is because his hope centers on what God has done and will do in them.
After going through our trial, there is a hope we have been given that, I believe, could only be forged during our suffering. We saw God come through in amazing ways and have many stories of redemption. He has drawn us near to himself in a new and different way, one that stokes our imagination for the gospel to be worked into our lives and the lives of others around us.
Maybe you’re not feeling particularly comforted by God or by his people right now. Your temptation will be to pull away, but why pull away from the only option of hope?
Bring yourself to God, he’s your Father, run to him. And when he still appears silent, know that he is there. Psalm 9:12 teaches us that “he does not forget the cry of the afflicted.” Cry out to him, that’s what we’re made to do. That’s how our very bodies are constructed.
Free to Go
This is the worst thing my wife and I have ever been through, but it’s also been one of the best. I would never wish this upon anyone or want to go through anything like it again, but God did use these hard circumstances for our good. Only a few weeks after my trial, close friends of ours lost their baby girl. Though I have not experienced that particular pain, I had a better idea of what deep hopelessness feels like, and I was able to be with them in their pain that day. Recently, another friend of mine was in some legal trouble, accused of charges of which he was absolutely innocent. Naturally, my heart went out to him, and was able to talk and pray with him in ways I wouldn’t have before. Since God has shown me that there is purpose in pain, I know that it's true for others.
Being a pastor, you hear stories of loss similar to this every week. People carry so much with them. But I know that when Christ said, “My burden is light” he meant it. This has radically redefined what suffering really is for us. And it has radically refined who we are, bringing to light our idols in stark contrast.
Being in darkness, I’ve become more compassionate. My heart is moved more for those who don’t have this God to run to. My trial was hard enough to live through with God walking with me, what about those who don’t have him? I may have suffered, but I found myself in Christ’s sufferings. He went through utter darkness for me, that I might know who he is. And though I was innocent of the charges brought against me by the United States of America, I stood guilty of many more heinous crimes against a holy and transcendent God. Christ considered me worthy of his pursuit, though it cost him his life. If I am found in Christ and am formed by his story, I am compelled to leave my comfort that others may find theirs in him.
I would love to say that I’ve completely forgiven my father and other family members. But that’s just not true. Forgiveness is a daily repenting-and-believing process. It’s not easy and often I don’t want to do it. But the God who forgave me of my sins now lives in me, enabling me to live in radical forgiveness. Relying on the Spirit is the only path to this kind of freedom.
When clearing me of all charges, the judge declared me “free to go.” He declared me free. But not just free for freedom’s sake: “free to go.” In my declaration of innocence comes another command: go. It would have been crazy to say, “No thanks, judge, I’m good. I’ll stay here, please continue the trial;” but that’s exactly what we do when we don’t accept the comfort from God and when we refuse to give it to others. If you are free, you go.
In suffering, we join God’s mission of drawing all people everywhere to himself. Surely, this plan is “to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead” (2 Cor. 1:9).
_
Greg Willson is the Church Planting Resident at Riverside Community Church. He likes creating music, and writes about art and the church at gregwillson.com. Follow him on Twitter: @gregoriousdubs.
How Faith Affects Our Work
I’ve had some busy people pick up Every Good Endeavor: Connecting Your Work to God’s Work, look at the subtitle, and ask: “OK, so, in a nutshell, how does God’s work connect to our work?” Always a good exercise for an author, to be asked to explain your book in just a few minutes! Here are four ways Christian faith influences and shapes our work.
1. Faith Gives Us a Moral Compass
First, the Christian faith gives us a moral compass, an inner GPS giving us ethical guidance that takes us beyond merely the legal aspects or requirements in any situation. A Christian on the board of a major financial institution—recently publicly embarrassed by revelations of corruption—told me about a closed door meeting there between top executives. Someone said, “We have to restore moral values.” Immediately someone asked, “Whose values? Who gets to define what is moral?” And there’s our problem.
There once was a habitus of broadly felt moral intuitions that governed much behavior in our society. It went well beyond the legal. Much of the ruthlessness, the lack of transparency, and lack of integrity that characterizes the marketplace and many other professions today come because consensus on those moral intuitions has collapsed. But Christians working in those worlds do have solid ethical guidance and could address through personal example the values-vacuum that has now been recognized by so many.
2. Faith Gives Us a New Spiritual Power
Second, your Christian faith gives you a new spiritual power, an inner gyroscope, that keeps you from being overthrown by either success, failure, or boredom. Regarding success and failure, the gospel helps Christians find their deepest identity not in our accomplishments but who we are in Christ. This keeps our egos from inflating too much during seasons of prosperity, and it prevents bitterness and despondency during times of adversity.
But while some jobs seduce us into over-work and anxiety, others tempt us to surrender to drudgery, only “working for the weekend,” doing just what is necessary to get by when someone is watching. Paul calls that “eye-service” (Colossians 3:22–24) and charges us to think of every job as working for God, who sees everything and loves us. That makes high-pressure jobs bearable and even the most modest work meaningful.
3. Faith Gives Us a New Conception of Work
Third, the Christian faith gives us a new conception of work as the means by which God loves and cares for his world through us. Look at the places in the Bible that say that God gives every person their food. How does God do that? It is through human work—from the simplest farm girl milking the cows to the truck driver bringing produce to market to the local grocer. God could feed us directly but he chooses to do it through work. There are three important implications of this.
First, it means all work, even the most menial tasks, has great dignity. In our work we are God’s hands and fingers, sustaining and caring for his world. Secondly, it means one of the main ways to please God in our work is simply to do work well. Some have called this “the ministry of competence.” What passengers need first from an airline pilot is not that she speaks to them about Jesus but that she is a great, skillful pilot. Third, this means that Christians can and must have deep appreciation for the work of those who work skillfully but do not share our beliefs.
4. Faith Gives Us a New World-and-Life View
Fourth, the Christian faith gives us a new world-and-life view that shapes the character of our work. All well-done work that serves the good of human beings pleases God. But what exactly is “the common good”? There are many work tasks that do not require us to reflect too much on that question.
All human beings need to eat, and so raising and providing food serves people well. But what if you are an elementary school teacher, or a playwright? What is good education (i.e. what should you be teaching children)? What kinds of plays should you write (i.e. what kinds of stories do people need)? The answers to these questions will depend largely on how you answer more fundamental questions—what is the purpose of human life? What is life about? What does a good human life look like? It is unavoidable that many jobs will be shaped by our conscious or semi-conscious beliefs about those issues. So, finally, a Christian must think out how his or her faith will distinctly shape their work.
How wonderful that the gospel works on every aspect of us—mind, will, and feelings—and enables us to both deeply appreciate the work of non-believers and yet aspire to work in unique ways as believers. Putting all of these four aspects together, we see that being a Christian leads us to see our work not as merely a way to earn money, nor as primarily a means of personal advancement, but a truly a calling—to serve God and love our neighbor.
_
Timothy Keller is the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, which he started in 1989 with his wife, Kathy, and three young sons. Dr. Keller’s books, including the New York Times bestselling The Reason for God and The Prodigal God, have sold over 1 million copies and been translated into 15 languages. Follow him on Twitter: @timkellernyc.
[This was originally posted at Redeemer City to City and is used here with permission from the author.]
Singing as Kingdom Warfare
Only one more song before I went up to preach. I felt prayed up. Ready. But then a sense of uneasiness came over me. As the first verse began to roll, I prayed, "Lord, help me. Move in your people. May you be glorified. I know the principalities and powers are against us in this place. They are looking for gospel seeds to steal. The enemy is prowling against me and your Bride this day. Help us, Lord. One little word from you is all we need."
The forces of evil (Eph. 6:12) were more real to me in that moment than they had been all week. It was then I realized that there was a snake in lion's clothing slithering through our church (1 Peter 5:8). We were going into battle.
THE COSMIC BATTLE
Singing as Exorcism
I looked to the words of "In Christ Alone" on the screen and joined the church in singing about a Roman cross and an empty grave. The gathered saints of a risen Galilean, the King of Kings, were singing, exalting, and enjoying the gospel of the Kingdom.
"Till on that cross as Jesus died, The wrath of God was satisfied. For every sin on him was laid; Here in the death of Christ I live.
There in the ground his body lay Light of the world by darkness slain: Then bursting forth in glorious Day Up from the grave he rose again!"
As we sang the beautiful truths of the gospel, we were doing more than reciting words. This was no mere singing. Pagans can sing. We were engaging in exaltational exorcism. We were pushing back the darkness around us, in our minds, in our hearts, and in the air.
Tearing Down Strongholds
Cosmic battles are waged in our little churches. It may appear quiet, neat, and orderly to our eyes, but there are powers over this present darkness, spiritual forces that are tempting, distracting, and condemning—even while we shake hands, hug, sip coffee, and take sermon notes. They want Mrs. Jones to be so wrecked by her sin that she wouldn't dare look to Jesus and believe that she's forgiven. Demons swirl around that teenager in the back row, hoping he won't confess his porn addiction to his youth leader—and especially not his parents.
Something nuclear happens we sing the glories of Christ. We are wielding weapons-grade gospel power to tear down strongholds and cast out every word raised against the word of our Messiah, and we fall down before our Lord and follow him.
“For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Cor. 10:4–5).
THE SATANIC POWERS HATE THE GOSPEL
Victory at Calvary
Satan isn't terrified of our electric guitars, live drums, or hip services; no, when redeemed sinners exalt the Triune God and exult in Jesus of Nazareth, that’s the moment demons shriek and whimper back to the darkness from which they came (Luke 4:33-36). When we sing the truths of the gospel, we aren't the only ones being reminded of the victory at Calvary—the satanic powers are freshly reminded that Jesus is Lord, not Lucifer. They follow a loser.
"And as he stands in victory Sin's curse has lost its grip on me, For I am his and he is mine, Bought with the precious blood of Christ."
Jesus holds me; sin doesn’t. My flesh can't boss me around anymore because Jesus isn't laid up in a tomb—he stands in victory. It was on a bloody hill outside of Jerusalem that, “He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him" (Colossians 2:15). Jesus has not only conquered Satan, he has made a spectacle of him.
As the army of Christ assembles in high school cafeterias, warehouses, theater chair filled rooms, and under thatched roofs, these buildings are more like barracks. We gather to be filled by the Spirit of the King, refreshed by his Word, and we march back out into enemy occupied territory, singing in unison the battle hymn of the Kingdom: For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).
Songs laced with gospel truth, sung in faith, are anti-air missile defense systems against the flaming darts of the evil one (Ephesians 6:16). Read these last lines of "In Christ Alone."
"No guilt in life, no fear in death, This is the power of Christ in me; From life's first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of Hell, no scheme of man, Can ever pluck me from his hand; Till he returns or calls me home, Here in the power of Christ I'll stand."
We sing those words to God, Heaven rejoices, and Satan watches on in horror. No power of Hell can pluck us from Christ's hand. "No power of Hell, Satan. Do you hear us? You and all your rotten might are no match for our Jesus." This is why I advocate for loud singing (Zephaniah 3:14-15). War isn't quiet. No soldier mumbles on the battlefield—and especially not at the victory party. Belt the glory of Christ. And know that our Champion sings loudly over us (Zephaniah 3:17).
Crucified with Christ
We focus our hearts and vocal chords on the lifeless body of Jesus and his life being returned to him three days later, to remember that Calvary happened to us too. “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20). The Dark Snake lost his grip on us when Jesus gave up his life and came back from the dead, because Jesus brought us with him (Ephesians 4:8). We too lost our lives and got them back. We died on that cross. We rose from the grave. We are new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17). We are more than conquerors (Romans 8:37)—and the fallen angels hate it and don't want us to know it or enjoy it. But "here in the power of Christ I'll stand!"
Church singing hacks away at the unrealities we've bought into during the week. A part of spiritual warfare is cutting the heads off of lies with the shovel of truth. The satanic forces work in tandem with our flesh and without noticing it, we start to believe that maybe we have sinned too big or too much this week, and then we hang our heads, and drag our knuckles on the Lord's Day. We think, "Maybe this sin is, you know, just the way it's going to be."
But that's all anti-gospel. That thinking didn't come from the throne, but the ground. We tear down that stronghold and sing, "No guilt in life!" (Romans 8:1).
SING THE GOOD SONG, FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT
War Songs
Some people endure the time of corporate singing, just so they can get to the sermon. Well, there are a lot of dumb things to do in church, and that's one of the big ones. You may not like the style of music, but that doesn't matter. If God wanted one style of music, or even the songs done in a certain way, we'd have sheet music instead of maps in the back of our Bibles. God commands us to sing, “Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name" (Psalm 30:4). And it might be that during those songs we are being made ready to hear their word of our Christ. The belt of truth is being tightened, we remember the righteousness of Christ as our breastplate, the gospel shoes are being laced up. As hands are raised in response, they are lifting up the shield of faith blocking the darts of the Serpent (Eph. 6:13-17). We are confident in the helmet of salvation, and we've heard the sword of the Spirit through our songs. And it is in those verses and hymns, these gospel songs, that the Spirit gives us the spiritual gift of street fighting.
Believe and sing. Sing and believe. You are in the middle of a war. Look at the words, take them in, believe them, and let them soar into the air. Lift up the shield of faith by lifting up your voice.
And sing loudly. Maybe God will use your voice, as you sing a spiritual song, to help a brother or sister look away from lies, cheap thrills, and temptations. Help lift their droopy hands and dwell on Christ (Colossians 3:16).
The Mighty Fortress
Pastors, worship leaders, lead us to the gospel waters. Help us hear, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price” (Isaiah 55:1).
Select songs that are jam-packed with gospel glories. "His glories now we sing." Is your church singing the glories or a bunch of goofiness? Are we singing about a solid rock of truth or soggy love? If we aren't singing about the cross and the empty tomb, what are we singing about? God's love? 1 John 3:16 much? Take us to Jerusalem, show us Golgotha and that empty grave, and then point us to the clouds that will be rolled back like a scroll.
Martin Luther knew this kingdom warfare theme. In his powerful hymn, A Mighty Fortress is our God, he sings:
“For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe; his craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate, on earth is not his equal."
He knew our enemy and his work against us. Luther's conclusion?
“And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, we will not fear, for God hath willed his truth to triumph through us.
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.”
One word from Christ, that's all. One truth. The truth. Like Tolkien's elvish waybread, one gospel crumb is enough to sustain the whole church, for a whole lifetime, for a whole eternity.
Sing the good song of the good news. Fight the good fight of the faith—we are in a war after all.
_
J.A. Medders is the Lead Pastor of Redeemer Church in Tomball, TX. He is pursuing his M.Div at Southern Seminary. He and Natalie have one precious little girl, Ivy. Jeff digs caffeinated drinks, books, and the Triune God. He blogs at www.jamedders.com and tweets from @mrmedders.
The Practical Calvin: Holiness and the Christian Life
Far from a crusty old man writing a stale textbook, Calvin understood that the breadth of his work was worthless if it did not apply itself to the life of a believer. He was intensely practical and pastoral in his writings, exhibiting great concern for holiness.
John Calvin. This name is has different meanings depending on one’s theological framework, denominational upbringing, or knowledge of church history. He is loved by many, hated by many, and surely unknown to many others. Regardless of one’s opinion of Calvin, he is often seen as the rigid theologian who wrote extremely lofty thoughts about the sovereignty and glory of God.
In his greatest theological work, The Institutes of Christian Religion, Calvin expounds rather extensively upon nearly every major Christian doctrine. However, one particular theme that is woven throughout the treatise is the practical implications of his theology. Far from a crusty old man writing a stale textbook, Calvin understood that the breadth of his work was worthless if it did not apply itself to the life of a believer. He was intensely practical and pastoral in his writings, exhibiting great concern for holiness. When dealing with the day-to-day Christian life, he focused most closely on four major points: union with Christ through the Spirit, the inseparable link of faith and the Word, the essentiality of repentance, and the Christian’s need for self-denial.
Union with Christ
In Calvin’s mind, there was no such thing as a “Christian life” apart from union with Christ. He posited that “until we become one with him, everything he possesses is nothing to us.” So how does one become united with Christ? Calvin explains: “The Holy Spirit is the bond by which Christ effectively binds us to himself. … By the grace and energy of the Spirit we become his members, so that he is in charge of us and we, in our turn, possess him.” In other words, the power of the Holy Spirit accomplishes this connection and applies salvation to the person. He also notes that in the gospel “we find the treasures of grace unfolded to us.” One becomes a believer by being united with Christ through the work of the Holy Spirit, and the gospel then discloses to them the fullness of Christ which is unknown without the Spirit.
The Connection of Faith and the Word
In the life of the Christian, Calvin saw faith and the Word of God as inseparable. He claimed that “they can no more be separated than rays of light from the sun.” He did not function as a wandering dreamer; he based faith itself on the objective truths of Scripture. To him, the authority held by Scripture is so transcendent, so otherworldly, that there is no way to have a markedly supernatural faith with a merely natural book.
Additionally, Calvin would make the case that “the Word is the base on which faith rests and is strengthened. … Take away the Word, and there will be no faith.” Faith was more than simple knowledge about God in the eyes of Calvin; he believed that faith was a knowledge of God’s revealed will in Scripture. The Word gives believers all that they need to grow in faith and to comprehend God’s will, and the denial of the truth of Scripture directly correlates to the weakening of faith. Through the power of the Spirit, holiness only came through direct relationship with knowing God's commands.
The Importance of Repentance
Calvin shifted to the primacy of repentance. Upon the believer’s union with Christ through the Spirit while their faith is being strengthened through the Word, the logical following result is repentance. He suggests that the gospel “is about repentance and forgiveness of sins. If these are omitted, any discussion about faith will be useless. … Repentance not only follows faith but is produced by it.” If the believer has been united with Christ and clothed in his righteousness, then he has been given a faith grounded in the authority of God’s Word. In turn, one must practice the ways of the new life by turning from the old life. If one truly understands God’s grace, then repentance is inevitable. As he put it, “a man cannot honestly say he knows about repentance unless he knows he belongs to God.”
Moreover, repentance is more plainly defined by Calvin as “a true conversion of our life to God, springing from real and solemn fear of God; it consists also in putting to death our flesh and the quickening of the Spirit.” First, people need a conversion of both the soul and their outward actions. Still walking in unrepentant sin, a person can hardly begin to seek righteousness through repentance in a meaningful way. Second, repentance springs from a sincere fear of God. The believer must truly come to grips with divine judgment and the reality of one day standing before God’s judgment seat. Lastly, repentance consists of mortification of the flesh and the Spirit’s imparting of holiness. Scripture is clear that believers must renounce the world and their own desires for the sake of Christ. The Holy Spirit, in turn, will “inspire our souls with new thoughts and affections.” The life of a Christian is entirely practical when weighed against Scripture. To Calvin, the Word is clear that God’s will is for his people to live a holy life and to use it in glorifying him.
In the end, no one who belongs to God will ever struggle so habitually that they do not still progress toward him daily. Salvation necessarily leads to holiness. Because of this, Calvin insists that Christians never give up on pursuing Christ.
The Act of Self-Denial
The definitive sum of the Christian life, according to Calvin, is self-denial. He concludes that “we must not follow our own way but the Lord’s will, and aim always to promote his glory. We are really succeeding when, almost forgetting ourselves and putting aside our own way of thinking, we genuinely try to obey God and his commandments.” The entirety of creation is God’s stage, and Christians are merely bit actors in his grand drama of redemption.
Not only so, but those united with Christ are members of his body, and thus they are members of one another. He is the head from which all of the functions of the body flows. As such, whatever one member of the body does, the rest of the body partakes of the action as well. All members exist for one another even as they all exist ultimately for Christ. All of this must be done selflessly as to avoid arrogance or moral blame. He expounds on this notion saying, “Really everyone should think that he owes himself to his neighbors, and that the only limit to his generosity is the end of his resources.”
Calvin’s emphasis on self-denial is rooted in Christ’s command to take up one’s cross and follow him. Just as the Father put his own Son through trials, he will certainly not spare the rest of his children. The more Christians share in Christ’s sufferings, the closer communion they experience with him, hence the further they progress in holiness.
A Theologian for Everyone
No person is perfect, and no one should agree with every single word a theologian says. But whether one resonates with Calvin’s theology as a whole or not, he is a theologian for everyone. He clearly loved Christ and wanted to point people to him. Ever the pursuer of God’s own heart, he has much to teach the world about lifting high the name of Jesus and living a life worthy of the calling (Eph. 4:1).
_
In this post, I used the following version of Institutes: John Calvin, The Institutes of Christian Religion, ed. Tony Lane and Hilary Osborne (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1987).
Christ-Centered Reading, Preaching, and Teaching
by Matt Capps.
Why Do We Need Jesus in Our Exegesis? Except for a period in my early twenties, I have been involved in the life of a local church for as long as I can remember. Because I was so involved in various ministries, I made it a priority to study the Bible in preparation so that I could be, in the words of Paul, a workman unashamed. Still, something wasn’t right. The spiritual growth and change I desired wasn’t happening on a notable or consistent basis. I remember doing my “quiet time” one afternoon in my teens and becoming exhaustingly discouraged. Sunday after Sunday I would walk out after the service on a spiritual high only to crash into the reality of my own brokenness within minutes of leaving the church building. I didn’t realize what was missing until later in life. While my salvation and early spiritual growth had come from the work of the Spirit in my heart and life, I began relying less on the Spirit and more on my flesh for my continued growth (Galatians 3:3). Like many believers have confessed to me over the years, I turned to Jesus for salvation, but trusted in myself for sanctification. Most of the teaching and material I was exposed to presented lists of Christian attitudes and actions, along with a call to do these things, and that’s it. I am not saying there is a problem with calling people to act in God honoring ways. Descriptive examples and prescriptive imperatives are all over the Bible.
However, problems arise when you approach examples and imperatives the wrong way. My exasperation found its roots in incomplete exegesis. I was approaching the Bible as if it was primarily about me; the stories just examples of morality that I should try to emulate. As I’ve sought a deeper relationship with my Savior, I’ve come to the conviction that the Bible is not primarily about you and I. It’s about Him. While this does not dissolve our responsibility concerning biblical imperatives, it does change how we approach and apply them to our lives. It fundamentally changes our hermeneutical framework and our method of Bible application. Until my mid-twenties, I approached the bible as a compilation of morally commendable stories. I completely missed THE Bible story. The story of Jesus. This is the aim of Christ-centered hermeneutics - to center everything on the person and work of Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ is the Link Between Every Part of the Bible and Us
The Bible is very clear that Jesus is the one and only mediator between God and man (1 Timothy 2:5). In light of that, shouldn’t we approach interpreting God’s word as mediated to us through Jesus Christ? I have come to believe that this is the hermeneutical grid that Jesus and the Apostles advocated (John 5:39; Luke 24:27; Luke 24:44-45; 1 Corinthians 2:2; Colossians 2:2-3). Essentially, all of Scripture needs to be interpreted by the definitive person and work of Jesus Christ. I believe Graeme Goldsworthy said it well:
The Old Testament does not stand on its own, because it is incomplete without its conclusion and fulfillment in the person and work of Jesus Christ. No part can be rightly understood without him. In this sense it is about Christ. God’s revelation is progressive, moving in stages from the original promises given to Israel, until the fullest meaning of these promises is revealed in Christ…Thus Christ, interprets the New and Old Testaments.[1]
There are thoughtful Christians who are skeptical of Christ-centered hermeneutics because they think it advocates an unbalanced allegorical approach to interpreting the Bible. They would contend for a more strict expository method that doesn’t stray too far from the controls of the immediate context of the passage.
Advocates of the Christ-centered method push back and maintain that they are simply widening the contextual parameters to the entire canon and focusing in on Jesus as the key to understanding God’s word. Therefore, the trajectory of every passage and theme in the Bible points to Christ through type, antitype, promise, or symbol. Tony Merida contends, “the goal for Christ-centered expositors is not to ‘look for Jesus under every rock,’ but rather to find out how a particular text fits into the whole redemptive story that culminates in Christ.”[2] I do not think Christ-centered hermeneutics and grammatical historical driven hermeneutics are antithetical. Combined, these methods give us the proper exegetical approach to reading and applying God’s word focused on the person and work of Jesus Christ. So, if Jesus is the climax of God’s revelation (as we read in Hebrews 1:1-3), how does this change the way we read, preach, and teach the Bible? And why would it have mattered to me in my earlier spiritual development as I was being confronted with the law’s demands and my own inadequacies? Here is where Christ-centered hermeneutics unleashes an ocean of benefits for Christian sanctification.
The Gracious Benefits of Christ-Centered Hermeneutics
First, we need to have a proper understanding of our own struggles and find security in Christ. Too many honest Christians struggle with their own sin nature because they can’t make sense of its place in their Christian identity. If I am a Christian, why am I (still) so broken? I will always be thankful for Bryan Chapell’s book Christ-Centered Preaching on this point. Chapell introduces the concept of the “Fallen Condition Focus” in this work. Our fallen condition is the mutual human condition all believers share when confronted with the demands of God’s law, which in turn draws us towards the grace of God found only in Christ. When we look at the perfection of Jesus, the God-man, we are confronted with our own failures and the failures of people in the Bible. As Ed Clowney once wrote, “Jesus fulfilled the law not only by keeping it perfectly for us, but also by transforming our understanding of it. Christ not only obeyed the law, but also displayed its true meaning and depth.”[3] Therefore we don’t simply approach the Bible as a handbook of life for moral direction, but as God’s word revealing our hideous sin and the beauty Jesus’ perfection. Jesus is faithful when we are failures.
Second, the primary way to respond to our fallen condition as it is revealed in the Bible, and through the Spirit, is faith in the completed work of Christ. Moreover, the implication of Christ’s work on our behalf becomes the motivation and power for faithful Christian living. Graeme Goldsworthy argues that “The ethical example of Christ is secondary to and dependent upon the primary and unique work of Christ for us.”[4] It is from Jesus’ life and work, also his death and resurrection, that the motivation and power for Christian living flows. Relying on our own will power to live the Christian life will leave us devastated. This feeling of hopelessness can often be the result when we jump to an immediate application of a biblical text without first seeing the text through the lens of Jesus Christ. In other words, we don’t approach the Bible with the question: what does this mean for me? without asking prior questions like: How does this text relate to Christ? How do we relate to Christ? Only then can we ask, in light of Christ’s work on our behalf, how can we respond with our lives in worship as gratitude for his grace? Further, we then plead with the Holy Spirit to provide wisdom and motivation for living in a God honoring way.
Third, the good news of the gospel is Christ’s work for us and the fruit of the gospel is Christ’s work in us. Jesus produces fruit in us where our willpower fails us every time. The good news of Jesus is something we need to be reminded of throughout the Christian life. Tim Keller is well-known for saying, “The gospel is not just the A-B-C’s of Christianity but is the A to Z of Christianity. The gospel is not just the minimum required doctrine necessary to enter the kingdom, but the way we make all progress in the kingdom.”[5] The gospel needs to be applied to every area of one’s thinking, feeling, relating, working, and behaving consistently throughout life. This is why Christ-centered hermeneutics is so important for properly understanding the Bible. When we read and apply the Bible without Christ as the center, we naturally swing towards either religion or irreligion. We either apply the text in ways that send us on a trajectory towards self-exultation because we become the hero of our faith, or self- exhaustion because we cannot consistently live up to the standards of our faith.
Conclusion
A Christ-centered hermeneutic teaches us that in every passage the canonical trajectory points us to Christ as the hero of our salvation and our sanctification. Moreover, we learn that we are to approach the Bible with the posture (As Keller has said on many occasions) that we are more sinful and flawed than we ever dared believe, while being more accepted and loved by Jesus than we ever dared hope. Christ-centered hermeneutics not only informs the mind, but also employs the truth to appeal to our emotions and challenge our will to respond appropriately and entirely to the good news of Jesus Christ. Certainly, to understand the Bible correctly requires faith in Christ along with the Spirit’s enlightenment. Jesus is revealed as central to the Bible so that no part can be rightly understood without him. Sadly, many Christians read, many preachers preach, and many teachers teach the Bible in a way that would be agreeable to someone outside the faith. The key question in biblical hermeneutics is: How does this text testify to Christ?
If the reader, preacher, or teacher hasn’t addressed and answered this question in their pursuits, they are not approaching the Bible in an explicitly Christian way.
Further Resources for Understanding Christ-Centered Hermeneutics
- Gospel-Centered Teaching (Forthcoming), Trevin Wax
- Proclaim Jesus, Tony Merida
- Preaching Christ in All of Scripture, Ed Clowney
- How to Read the Bible through the Jesus Lens, Michael Williams
- Preaching the Whole Bible as Christian Scripture, Graeme Goldsworthy
- Gospel-Centered Hermeneutics, Graeme Goldsworthy
- Him We Proclaim, Dennis Johnson
_
Matt Capps currently serves as the Brand Manager for The Gospel Project at LifeWay Christian Resources in Nashville, TN . Matt is a graduate of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary (M.Div.) and is currently a student at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary (D.Min.). Matt blogs here.
I Am Holy
Pursue peace with everyone, and holiness—without it no one will see the Lord. - Hebrews 12:14
God’s word says that we cannot see God unless we are holy. Seriously. It’s right there for everyone to see. Not only is it blatant, but it’s damning. Webster’s reminds us that to be holy is to be “exalted or worthy of complete devotion as one perfect in goodness and righteousness.” (emphasis mine)
That’s just great. I am in deep trouble.
I am not holy. Not even close. I often have the market cornered on being arrogant. I really struggle with keeping my mouth under control. I am regularly lazy. I would love to tell you more about my weakness, but my pride would get offended if I did. My pride is so strong that I even mess up my attempts to grow in humility. Unbelievable. When I try to grow in humility, there is always an underlying desire to gain something from that humility. Maybe my humility will gain me respect, or maybe God will grant me some blessing, and so on. Good grief. I can’t even get humility right because my pride thumps its chest and gets in the way. This underlying pride undergirds all of our collective attempts to pursue humility.
On top of all this, the Bible tells me I cannot see God unless I am holy. It would seem that there is no more crushing truth in scripture than that. I fall short. Horribly, horribly short.
And yet there is hope. The truth is, I am holy; I am righteous. Even in the face of my unrighteousness. Once again, I’m serious. Because of my faith in Christ, the progression of my new life in him looks like this.
I am declared holy.
I am being made holy.
I am actually holy.
If there is a more powerful truth in scripture than the truth that God deeply loves me and is making me holy, I don’t know what it is.
I am declared holy.
“He made the One who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” - 2 Corinthians 5:21
Imagine learning about a banquet. Not just a banquet, but banquet that will end all banquets. The banquet that will redefine what a banquet should be. Unbelievably, there is an open invitation to said banquet. Anyone who responds is welcome to attend the banquet. There is a catch, however. In order to gain admission into the banquet, you must be dressed exquisitely. This is a problem because you are poor and have nothing to offer as a means of acquiring the kind of apparel necessary for entrance into the banquet. At just the right moment, however, another person walks up to you and offers to trade your filthy rags for their Armani tuxedo. This is great news! It makes no logical sense, but you are thrilled nonetheless. This kind and generous stranger disrobes and covers you with their luxury apparel, while taking on your filthy rags. The truth is, you know that the luxury garments aren’t yours. You didn’t buy them - you couldn’t buy them - and you feel a bit like a pretender, but you gain access into the banquet, not because of your fine taste in fashion and closet full of fine apparel, but because a gracious stranger took on your filthy rags so that you might assume their grandeur. In theological circles, we would call this “imputed righteousness.” In Jesus’ perfect life and then death on the cross, he made his holiness available to me. As I bowed the knee to King Jesus, he covered me in the cloak of his righteousness. When God looks at me, he no longer sees Micah in all my filthy rags, but instead sees the glory of Jesus' holiness covering me. In response to the covering of Jesus’ holiness I am declared righteous. The truth is that I am still, in a very real sense, the guy who is covered in filthiness, but because Jesus’ holiness covers my filth, God gladly slams the gavel down on the heavenly judicial bench and declares that I am, in fact, not guilty. I am declared holy.
I am being made holy.
The bible reminds us that long before the world was set into place God had a plan for us. The prophet Jeremiah points out to us in Jeremiah 29:11 that his plan is one to “prosper us” and “not to harm us.” Too often we miss the fact that this isn’t a declaration of coming financial prosperity or avoidance of pain. This is a reminder that, in God’s great plan and because of Jesus, God is making us like himself; he is making us holy.
“For those He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brothers.” - Romans 8:29
This passage reminds us that God’s plan for us is to make us like Jesus. God is not satisfied to merely declare us to be holy (though that is certainly no small thing in itself), but has decided in his providence to work in us to mold us into an entirely different image - to actually make us holy. This, then, should be the natural progression of any who claim faith in Jesus.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away, and look, new things have come.” - 2 Corinthians 5:17
In Christ we are covered by Christ’s righteousness, and made into something entirely different than we were. This is true for everyone who claims faith in Jesus.
I am being made holy.
I am actually holy.
“So it is with the resurrection of the dead:Sown in corruption, raised in incorruption; sown in dishonor, raised in glory; sown in weakness, raised in power; sown a natural body, raised a spiritual body.” - 1 Corinthians 15:42-44
Of course I don’t mean that, right now, I am actually holy. I am arrogant at times, but I would hole that I’m a bit more self-aware than that. I am definitely not actually holy - or completely holy - yet. That’s the great thing, however. I may not be actually holy today, but I will be someday.
In God’s eternal kingdom, as all competitors to that kingdom have been destroyed, God will make his children into perfect reflections of himself. This is kind of a big deal. Arrogant Micah, bitter Micah, jealous Micah and all the other unsavory versions of Micah will be no more. For those of you who have believed in Jesus, this is your certain future as well. It seems a bit unbelievable, I know. It would be understandable if you felt the need to pinch yourself in response.
I am holy.
What Is the Imago Dei?
The question of imago dei has puzzled theologians and laymen for centuries. What does it mean to be made in the image of God? Answers to this question have included things like reason, relationality, the ability to walk upright, etc. I want to suggest three different ways of thinking about the imago dei:
“Then God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.’ So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them. And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’” Genesis 1:26-28
The question of imago dei has puzzled theologians and laymen for centuries. What does it mean to be made in the image of God? Answers to this question have included things like reason, relationality, the ability to walk upright, etc. I want to suggest three different ways of thinking about the imago dei:
1. Think about the imago dei in the context of a kingdom.
In the ancient world, kings would mark the boundaries of their kingdom by putting images or statues of themselves at their territorial borders. Images of a king marked out the extent of the reign of a king. When God sets up mankind as His image-bearers and commands them to fill the earth, He is sending them out to be markers of His reign to the four corners of the earth. Being an image-bearer of God means that you demonstrate to creation that the earth is the realm over which He reigns as king.
As bearers of the image of Jesus, in particular, we are to carry the message of Christ’s kingdom to the far ends of the earth. We are called to bring the truth to bear that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof” (Ps. 24:1) and this ownership of creation is expressed clearly in Christ’s rule over all things. For “all things have been created through Him and for Him” (Col. 1:16).
2. Think about the imago dei in the context of a temple.
When temples were built in the ancient world, they were built with specificity. They were meticulously constructed with care, creativity, and beauty. The last item to go into a newly-built temple was an idol or image of the god for whom the temple was built. It’s interesting that God creates earth with meticulous care and specificity, not in a manner unlike that of a temple. Furthermore, earth is seen not only as a place for humans to dwell, but a place for God’s presence to be manifest. The earth was created to be a type of temple in which God’s presence would be felt on earth and mankind’s praise would be reflected back to Him. If you fast-forward to the picture of New Creation in Revelation 21-22, it is explicitly stated that the new earth is God’s temple. If we are to picture the creation scene as a kind of temple-building act, than it only makes sense that God’s last creative act is to place mankind in the center of this temple as His image-bearer. God’s dwelling place has at its center an image of Himself through the people He has created, so that, as priests, we represent His image to creation and reflect creation’s praise back to Him.
3. Think about the imago dei in its own literary/textual context.
Though theologians have stretched their the limits of their imagination in trying to articulate a creative description of the imago dei, a more sound approach to understanding what it means to be an image-bearer of God is looking at the text of Genesis 1:26-28 itself. Right after declaring that He was going to make mankind in His image, God states that man will have dominion over the earth. It seems as if the functional aspect of being image-bearers is that we are to reign over creation as vice-regents, of sorts, under the headship of God the King.
This all fits very nicely with the call of Israel to be a kingdom of priests (Exodus 19:6) and later for the church to fulfill its calling as a royal (kingly) priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). If we are to be priests and kings, than bearing the image of God means simply that as kings, we mark out His reign by ruling over creation and as priests, we image Him forth (represent Him) to creation and reflect creation’s praise back to Him.
The Takeaway
More than anything, the imago dei is a very practical doctrine. Specifically, there are three “takeaways” for image-bearers:
1. Rule. The charge to have dominion over the earth fills the word vocatio with meaning. It means that regardless of your profession, there is dignity in your work as a means of exercising dominion over creation. There is a way to write a song, paint a picture, and film a movie for God’s glory. In every achievement and advance of mankind, there is evidence of the image of God in man. We bear His image well when we pursue the arts, politics, business, and law for His glory. This is what caused Martin Luther to say:
All our work in the field, in the garden, in the city, in the home, in struggle, in government-to what does it all amount before God except child's play, by means of which God is pleased to give his gifts in the field, at home, and everywhere? These are the masks of our Lord God, behind which he wants to be hidden and to do all things . . . The works of monks and priests, however holy and arduous they may be, do not differ one whit in the sight of God from the works of the rustic laborer in the field or the woman going about her household tasks.
2. Represent. As “imagers” of God, we represent Him to creation. For believers, we are called “ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:20). As God’s ambassadors, we image Him well when we represent Him in a way that points others to find their sufficiency and satisfaction in Christ alone. This is a calling for every follower of Christ and is part of our created purpose as humans.
3.Respect. As image-bearers of God, humans have inherent worth and dignity. One practical implication of the imago dei is that we must respect and value life, from conception to natural death. This, obviously, is a case for the pro-life argument. Yet beyond this, there is a very real call for us to treat one another with kindness and respect because as humans, we are special. The co-worker you don’t like, the person in your church you have a hard time getting along with, the annoying kid down the street – all bear the image of God and deserve to be treated in a way that is worthy of one who is created in God’s image.
Don’t view the doctrine of the imago dei with theological perplexity. Rather, embrace the task and identity of being an image-bearer. As you do, you will find satisfaction in “ordinary” life and fulfillment in accomplishing the purpose for which you were created.
Equip, Don't Enable
One of my great concerns for the church in America today is the consumer mentality that has become so pervasive.
One of my great concerns for the church in America today is the consumer mentality that has become so pervasive. Unfortunately, in my experience, most pastors complain about it a lot but then unintentionally, or even intentionally, propagate that reality in their churches as, rather than equipping our people, we are enabling our people. Ephesians 4:11-13 has an important word to offer to us to that end. Consider these words:
And He personally gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, for the training of the saints in the work of ministry, to build up the body of Christ, until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of God’s Son, growing into a mature man with a stature measured by Christ’s fullness
While this passage is not unknown to most pastors, I am not sure we have really considered the application of the text. I see four major implications of this text that cannot be missed by those who are leaders in the church.
1. God gives the church leaders. (11)
Leaders are not in their role simply because of giftedness, or desire, though both of those things are important. Leaders exist in their roles, first and foremost, because God has ordained that they be there. Your role as a church leader is a commission; an assignment from the God of the universe. It cannot and should not be approached with lazy, half-hearted effort. Leaders are given, as a personal gift from God. Notice the text. Leaders do not just exist. They do not just exist because God put them there. They exist as God's gift to the church. The idea here is that church leaders are intended by God to be a good, and gracious gift to the church.
2. Leaders equip the body. (12a)>
It is difficult to overstate this. God does not give us church leaders so that they can simply "do ministry." This text reminds us that He gives us leaders to equip the body, as a whole, to do ministry. In the American church we have even modified our vocabulary about the vocational expectation of a pastor to indicate that when we assume certain aspects of pastoral leadership that are focused on serving the needs of others we are now known as being "pastoral.” This belies a belief that what it means to be pastoral is to minister to the needs of others. This is unfortunate because, not only is it not faithful to the biblical text, but it is enabling, rather than equipping the church.
While this practice can sound noble, and while the pastor should certainly be a servant, we do a disservice to the people we serve and the kingdom of God, if we as leaders do the ministry that God has called the whole church to do. I want to suggest that while “pastoral ministry” is part of our responsibility as the body of Christ, the unique responsibility of the church leader is not to be extraordinarily good at “doing ministry”, but instead to invest our lives equipping the body to serve.
Not only that, though, the bible is clear that the ministry will not be done well, when we assume that posture, and the church will not grow, when we assume that posture.
Far too often we have developed a form of church that reflects our consumer driven society. “Church” is where people go to receive goods and services, and the pastor’s job is to deliver those goods and services. In this model, we don’t create disciples, we create customers.
3. The body is built up. (12b-15)
The ability of the church to be built into the image of Jesus is dependent upon the leadership training and handing off ministry. Allow me to say that again. The ability of the church to be built into the image of Jesus is dependent upon the leadership training and handing off ministry. This cannot be stressed enough. The spiritual growth and maturity of the church is incredibly dependent upon the church leadership's capacity to develop the body to serve in ministry.
Colossians 1:28-29 reminds us, We proclaim Him, warning and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone mature in Christ. 29 I labor for this, striving with His strength that works powerfully in me
I know so many pastors and church leaders who are living out this passage, and yet they are frustrated because much of their effort seems to be ineffective. I want to suggest that our effectiveness as a pastor or church leader is extraordinarily connected to our capacity to hand off ministry others.
Notice how Paul says the church will grow, when leaders are developing others and handing ministry off to them. Paul says that the church will grow in unity, knowledge, doctrinal stability, gracious speech & the character of Jesus. Is it surprising, then, to note that much of these described character traits are absent from the church today? Could it be that our insistence on doing what we should be equipping others to do with us is radically inhibiting our churches?
The ability of the church to be built into the image of Jesus is dependent upon the leadership training and handing off ministry. All this is done as Jesus enables it to be so, and it is done to bring him great glory. As we serve passionately, equipping the body for the work of ministry, the body matures into what God intends for them to be. His bride is made perfect (or complete) as they mature, and that maturity does not happen apart from equipping. Notice the progression of the text concerning what Jesus accomplishes in the church, as leaders equip the church instead enable the church.
4. Jesus is glorified. (16)
All this equipping, this "building up of the body" is done as Jesus enables it to be so, and it is done to bring him great glory. As we serve passionately, equipping the body for the work of ministry, the body matures into what God intends for them to be. His bride is made perfect (or complete) as they mature, and that maturity does not happen apart from equipping. Notice the progression of the text concerning what Jesus accomplishes in the church, as leaders equip the church instead enable the church. The text explicitly points out that when church leaders equip the body, this is what would happen in the church:
- Jesus brings the church together (unity in diversity)
- Jesus makes the church grow
- Jesus increases the church’s capacity to love
- Jesus helps every believer to reach their potential
Ultimately, in the end, all of these things serve to make us like Jesus and advance Jesus’ mission. If we want to lead churches to be like Jesus; if we want to lead churches to advance Jesus’ mission, then we must determine to do the hard work of equipping the people. We must hand off ministry. Unfortunately, the reality is that in too many churches this kind of ministry shift would be challenging. Objections are sure to come from lazy church members who are happy as consumers, but I fear that the greatest objections will come from pastors who are fearful of doing the hard work of leading this kind of change, or who feel personally fulfilled when the church is radically reliant on them being Pastor Superman.
Remember this radically important lesson. You church's mission effectiveness is directly tied to ministry multiplication. Yes, this is hard. It may even be costly, both personally and professionally, but I am confident that the future success of the church is dependent upon it.
Roger Ebert, Non-Believers, and The Hope of Christ
He is also a highly acclaimed newspaper columnist, and the first film critic to be awarded a Pulitzer Prize or a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. In 2007, Forbes named him the most powerful pundit in America. The lesser-known story of Roger Ebert is found in his Roman Catholic upbringing.
Roger Ebert has been a powerhouse journalist for over 40 years. My generation may perhaps know him best as the co-host of the Emmy-nominated movie review show Siskel and Ebert at the Movies or the later version, Ebert and Roeper at the Movies which gave “two thumbs up” to movies that both critics recommended. He is also a highly acclaimed newspaper columnist, and the first film critic to be awarded a Pulitzer Prize or a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. In 2007, Forbes named him the most powerful pundit in America.
The lesser-known story of Roger Ebert is found in his Roman Catholic upbringing. Though the son of a non-practicing Lutheran, he was raised in a Catholic school and “dedicated” in the second grade. Even as a child, Ebert admittedly struggled with what he’d learned from the Church in relation to what he’d learned about the universe through science. In the end, “just have faith” wasn’t a persuasive enough answer.
In the last few years, he has written two interesting entries regarding his faith (or lack thereof) on his popular “journal” at the Chicago Sun-Times blog. Though he is only one man, I believe that his concerns are shared by those that we interact with on a daily basis. In light of this, it might be helpful to engage two major statements that Ebert has made, and explore how Christians might respond with biblical wisdom and love if presented (or personally battling) with similar concerns.
Working for Grace
Reflecting upon struggles with objective morality as a young man, Ebert writes:
We were drilled in memorizing entries from the Baltimore Catechism, which was a bore, but more interesting were the theoretical discussions about what qualified as a sin, what you have to do to get to Heaven, and “Sister, what would happen if…” Those words always introduced a hypothetical situation which led the unsuspecting Catholic perilously close to the fires of Hell.
Looking back, I realize religion class began the day with theoretical thinking and applied reasoning, and was excellent training. To think that you might sin by accident, and be damned before you could get to Confession in time! What if you had an impure thought at the top of Mt. Everest, and couldn’t get back down? We were exposed to the concepts of sins of omission, sins of commission, intentional sins and, the trickiest of all, unintentional sins. Think of it: A sin you didn’t intend to commit. But Sister, is it a sin if you didn’t know it was?
Catholics are often illustrated as a works-based religion, but how many of us remember hearing this functionally taught in Baptist, Methodist, and other Protestant churches? As a young teenager in a Southern Baptist church, I shared in Ebert’s ethical anxiety. Which sins might damn me forever, and how many apologies will compensate for my offense to God?
The non-believers that I encounter will often address Christianity in one of two basic ways. First, they will proclaim that God and his followers are hateful and narrow-minded, and that they don’t care to associate with someone like that. The other popular response is that the person is “good” enough not to need Christianity to experience a pleasant afterlife. One or both of the ideas can present a significant roadblock in sharing the gospel.
The common misconceptions about God’s wrath or man’s ability are clarified in the person and work of Christ. Paul rightly declares, “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). John can say confidently that “God is love” (1 John 4:16) because he has proven it through Christ. Additionally, no one is righteous in God’s eyes (Rom. 3:10) and Christ’s mission was to remedy that through sacrificing himself on the cross with joy (Heb. 12:2). God’s grace is unending and unchanging, and available to those who will humbly receive it (James 1:21). This is a magnificent truth to share.
The Hesitant Atheist
Regarding the specifics of his current beliefs, Ebert concludes:
I consider myself Catholic, lock, stock and barrel, with this technical loophole: I cannot believe in God. I refuse to call myself a [sic] atheist however, because that indicates too great a certainty about the unknowable.
This statement is puzzling at first glance, but makes sense considering the way this age views spirituality. Believing in some sort of ethereal divine presence is not uncommon today. It is popular to say, “I don’t belong to any religion; I’m spiritual.” Ebert and others realize that there might be some form of deity or power beyond our comprehension, and this leads them to seek out a middle road between religious doctrine and complete denial of the supernatural.
We see this in Ecclesiastes 3:11: “God has put eternity into man’s heart.” When non-believers do the Ebert dance by claiming neither God nor atheism, they are working from an obscure awareness that there is something beyond what they can see. The veil is lifted when the human heart is flooded by the Holy Spirit and awakened to the truth (1 Cor. 2:12-13). What was once hazy and uncertain is now an unmistakable, radiant light. We can safely operate under the assumption that God is ready to ignite a flame in anyone that we come into contact with.
Building Bridges
The trouble with rebuttals from non-believers is that we as Christians are highly invested in our faith. And we rightly should be. It’s crucial, however, that we respond in love toward those who make claims against us. As we’ve discussed here, there is already a built-in hostility toward God due to sin, and we would do well not to amplify their opposition with our words.
Peter exhorts us to “give a reason” for our faith (1 Pet. 3:15). We are commissioned to stand boldly for the truth and not compromise our values, but boldness and hatefulness are not interchangeable. Non-believers are blinded by Satan (2 Cor. 4:4) and unreceptive to the things of God, but he leads people to repentance through his kindness (Rom. 2:4). Jesus laid his life down for us, and we must be willing to lay down our own pride for the sake of serving others.
Responding to critics or even genuine seekers is not easy, but we must press on. In Jesus’s first serious confrontation in Scripture (when he was accused of working on the Sabbath), he replied, “My Father is working until now, and I am working” (John 5:17). This fervor is what he expects from all of us.
May we take the gospel boldly to the uttermost ends of the earth, or to our neighbors across the street, armed with the love of Christ and power of the Spirit.
_
This originally appeared at For Christ and Culture.
Interview: J.D. Greear on "Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart"
J.D. Greear stops by to talk about his new book, "Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart."
You will be hard pressed to find a book with a more compelling, if not controversial, title than J.D. Greear’s new book, “Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart." For those of you who may not know J.D., he is the Lead Pastor of The Summit Church in Raleigh/Durham, North Carolina. J.D. has pastored The Summit since 2002, when he led the church to relaunch itself (formerly known as Homestead Heights). At the time of the relaunch they were running close to 300 people, and now are exceeding 6,000 regularly. For the past few years they have been recognized by Outreach Magazine as one of the 25 fastest growing churches in the country.
J.D. is kind enough to stop by the blog today to speak with us about his new book. I am thankful for his willingness to give us a bit the inside story behind the book, and to help us understand the content of the book a bit more.
______________
1. J.D., thanks for stopping by the blog today. I appreciate the effort. Your new book has a provocative title. I am confident that it is stirring interest in those who are reading it. So, give us a quick synopsis. What is the book all about?
My main thesis in this book is that reducing salvation to a sinner’s prayer gives assurance to some who shouldn’t have it, and keeps assurance from some who should. I wrote this book because there are a lot of people who can’t seem to find assurance no matter how many times they pray “the prayer,” and others who have a false assurance based on the fact that they went through a ritual with their pastor.
You could say I wrote the book to bring comfort to the unnecessarily troubled, and to trouble the unjustifiably comforted.
2. Your story is similar to mine, though I haven’t been baptized as many times as you. However, you talk about your struggle with assurance and the fact that you have been baptized four times. You also point out that false assurance, which is the flip side of the coin, is a serious danger. Of the two, which do you think is a bigger plague in the church?
Based on statistics that those like the Barna Group have run, the larger numerical problem is probably the falsely assured: 51% of all American adults believe they are going to heaven, even though most of that group never attends church, reads the Bible, or lives in any recognizably Christian manner. But the flip side of the problem is a huge issue that I have encountered repeatedly in my time as a pastor.
In the end, it’s less important to figure out which side of the coin is the “bigger” plague, but to focus on the remedy. And I believe that part of the problem comes from the shorthand, clichéd ways we speak of the gospel. The usual evangelical shorthand for the gospel is to “ask Jesus into your heart” or to pray the “sinner’s prayer.” Shorthand is fine insofar as everyone knows what the shorthand refers to. But in our day “the sinner’s prayer” has often become a substitute for repentance and belief.
To be clear—I am not trying to say that the sinner’s prayer is wrong in itself—after all, repentance and belief are in themselves a cry to God for mercy. Jesus presents the repentant tax collector being converted through the prayer, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 18:13). Some of the greatest evangelists in history—even Reformed ones—used a sinner’s prayer, including John Bunyan, George Whitefield, and Charles Spurgeon. Spurgeon would plead with people to pray the words of a sinner’s prayer after him as part of the conclusion to his sermons. I would go so far as to say that if you do not press for a decision when you preach the gospel, you haven’t fully preached the gospel, because the gospel in its very essence calls for a response. I’m not even against the language of asking Jesus into your heart, because—if understood correctly—this is a biblical concept (cf. Rom 8:9–11; Gal 2:20; Eph 3:17)!
I am saying that the sinner’s prayer has become a Protestant ritual that people often go through without considering what the prayer is supposed to embody. God doesn’t give salvation in response to a prayer; repentance and faith are the instruments that lay hold of salvation. You can express repentance and faith in a prayer, but it is possible to repent and believe without a formal prayer, and it is possible to pray a sinner’s prayer without repenting and believing.
3. In chapter 2 you mention that every religion in the world, except for Christianity, uses doubt to compel one to obey. However, in my experience, doubt is one of the most often used reasons for many Christians to obey. Instead, you suggest that the gospel of God’s grace creates a desire to obey. What’s the difference? As long as we are obeying, that’s all that should matter, right?
God is not simply after obedience; He’s after a whole new kind of obedience, the obedience that grows from desire. He wants the intimacy of sons, not just the service of slaves. Unfortunately, far too many Christians use doubt as a catalyst for obedience. The Roman Catholic Church of Martin Luther’s day, for instance, believed that people would only obey when threatened with harsh consequences for rebellion. Luther did not mince words when he called this the “damnable doctrine of doubt.”
We are supposed to relate to God as a father, not as a strict task-master. A faithful father does not leave his kids wondering whether or not he knows and loves them. When I go away on a trip, I don’t say to my kids, “Daddy will be back soon . . . or maybe he won’t. Maybe I’m not really your daddy at all. Maybe my real family lives somewhere else. You’ll just have to wait and see if I come back. Sit around and think about that while I’m gone, and let that compel you to become better children.”
That would not produce love and loyalty in my children. It might produce a little fear-based obedience, but it’s only a matter of time until fear-based obedience turns into father-loathing bitterness and rebellion. I don’t want my children feeling like orphans, and neither does God.
4. At the beginning of chapter 3 you suggest that assurance, in one sense, is as easy as asking the question, do you believe in Christ? Your rationale is supported by John 3:36. However, many who worry over assurance will, with great fear, point back to Matthew 7:21-23 that says:
Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord!’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of My Father in heaven. 22 On that day many will say to Me, ‘Lord, Lord, didn’t we prophesy in Your name, drive out demons in Your name, and do many miracles in Your name?’ 23 Then I will announce to them, ‘I never knew you! Depart from Me, you lawbreakers!’
How do you balance the simple truth of John 3:36 with the fearful tone of Matthew 7?
The verses from Matthew 7 were part of what threw me into the first of my many spirals of doubt. I remember during my 9th grade year, when my Sunday school teacher told us that according to Matt 7, many people who think they know Jesus would awaken on the last day to the reality that he never knew them. I was terrified. How could I know I wasn’t going to be in that group?
My advice to those who fear that they will be among those to whom Christ says, “Depart from Me, I never knew you,” is this: rest in His promise to receive all who hope in His finished work. Jesus’ warning often makes us look inward and find plenty of reasons for God to reject us. But for every one look we take at our sinful heart, we should take 10 looks at Christ. Once Charles Spurgeon, reflecting on those whom Christ turns away in Matthew 7:21–23, said (and I paraphrase), “Never knew me, Lord? How could you say that? When I had no hope of salvation, I rested all my hope on you. When I despaired in my struggle against sin, I looked to you for strength. Jesus could never say to me, ‘I never knew you.’”
None who lean the weight of their soul on the truth of the testimony God gave about Jesus as their hope of salvation will ever hear the words, “Depart from Me, I never knew you.” To rest in Christ’s finished work is, you see, to be known by Jesus.
5. I love the statement you make in chapter 4, in reference to our own assurance. You say, “Present posture is better proof than a past memory.” In other words, your present position before God is more important than whether or not you can remember the time, date, location of your conversion. I’ve said it this way, “The question is not so much, have you believed, but rather are you believing?” Having said that, are you suggesting that salvation does not have to be tied to a “moment?”
Certainly not. Salvation does indeed happen in a moment, and once you are saved you are always saved. My point is that conversion is not a ceremony you go through but a posture of repentance and faith that you assume. The posture does indeed begin in a moment, but it continues for a lifetime.
Salvation happens in a moment: I don’t want to confuse or downplay that. But in that moment, you merely enter a posture of submission to the lordship of Christ and trust in his finished work. That is a posture you maintain for the rest of your life. And the way you know you made the decision to get into that posture is that you are there now.
In the book I compare conversion to sitting down in a chair. If you are seated right now, then you know that at some point in the past you made a decision to sit down—your posture proves it. If you are right now trusting in Christ’s finished work and submitting to his Lordship, that proves you are saved. If you are not, then it doesn’t matter what “ceremony” you went through. Assurance doesn’t come through a memory of a past event, but through our present posture. “Believing,” as it relates to assurance, is almost always presented in the present tense (e.g. 1 John 5:13).
6. Further along in this chapter you speak about helping your children to know Christ. You mention the tension parents feel about not pushing their children to make a hasty decision. I know I have greatly struggled with this. However, you encourage parents to begin appealing to their children to respond to Christ at an early age. How do you do that, and not encourage what would become your testimony, and mine, that of multiple “conversion stories,” multiple baptisms, etc.?
As a father of 4 young children, I have often reflected on the best way to lead them to faith. I want their decision to follow Jesus to be significant, but I also don’t want them to go through what I went through, constantly questioning my previous religious experiences. I know that when you present kids with a “don't you want to be a good girl and make daddy happy and accept Jesus and not go to a fiery hell?” of course they say, “Yes.” “Praying the prayer” in such a situation may have little do with actual faith in Christ and have more to do with making daddy happy.
For that reason, many parents don’t want to push their child to make a decision for Christ. What if we coerce them into praying a prayer they don’t understand, and that keeps them from really dealing with the issues later when they really understand it? Might having them pray the prayer too early on inoculate them from really coming to Jesus later, giving them false assurance that keeps them from dealing with their need to be saved?
I understand that fear. At the same time, I know that children are capable of faith. (In fact, Jesus tells adults that for them to be saved they must become like children, not visa versa!) And Jesus says that those of us who make it difficult for little kids to put faith in Him ought to have a millstone tied around our necks and be thrown into the sea (Matt 18:1–6). So I don’t ever want to discourage my kids from faith.
The dilemma is resolved, however, by seeing salvation as a posture toward Christ and not as a ceremony. There is only one posture ever appropriate to Christ: surrendered to His Lordship, and believing that He did what He said He did. From the very beginning of their lives, I want my kids to assume that posture! So I explain to them often what Christ has done and encourage them to pin their hopes of righteousness on His work and not theirs. Whenever they think about their hopes for heaven, I want their minds to go to what Jesus did on Calvary. And when I encourage them to walk in holiness, I want the motivation—from day one—to be the finished work of Christ on their behalf.
Again, it’s like sitting down in a chair. If you’re sitting down now, that is proof that at some point you made the decision to sit down even if you don’t remember the moment. There was a moment you sat down, but the proof is in the present posture, not the past memory. The same is true with my kids and the Lordship of Jesus and his finished work. They can only be in one of two postures with him. So whenever I talk to them about Jesus, I encourage them to assume the posture of repentance and faith. Why would I ever want them to have a different posture in relationship to Jesus? Whether they can explain later the exact moment they sat down in repentance and faith is less important than the fact that they do it.
7. In chapter 6 you speak about the doctrine of eternal security. You say, “It’s not incorrect to say ‘once saved, always saved.’ It’s just incomplete.” What do you mean by that?
I do believe in eternal security, the idea usually summed up with the phrase you mention here: “once saved, always saved.” But the way that I heard eternal security described in Baptist churches growing up is not the way it is described in the Bible. It’s not even the way that some of the great Baptists of the past—I’m thinking of Charles Spurgeon and John Bunyan, among others—described eternal security.
Neither the great Baptists of the past nor the Bible describes eternal security as a one-time ritual that produces a guarantee of salvation no matter how you live your life. They described it as the knowledge that if God had started a true work in you, he would complete it. And the way that you show your salvation is genuine is by persevering for the rest of your life.
Persevering in the faith is proof that you have the salvation you could never lose; failing to persevere shows that you never had it to begin with.
8. In chapter 7 you address the biblical signs of genuine faith. You even go so far as to say, “the presence of the struggle [with sin] itself can be affirmation that God’s Spirit is at work within you.” I know many will find this difficult to believe. Can you elaborate on this point?
Struggling with sin or its consequences isn’t proof by itself that a person knows God. But I have known a lot of believers who live on the brink of despair because of the presence of sin in their lives. They know the attitude of their hearts, and they recognize strong undercurrents of selfishness, idolatry, apathy, and unbelief. And they begin to wonder, “Can I really be saved and still have these sinful desires?”
The simple answer is, “Yes.” The Apostles all testify to a never-ending and intense struggle they had with sin (cf. Paul’s words in Rom 7:21, and John’s in 1 John 1:8). James says that we sin (even as believers) because we are “drawn away by our own lusts and enticed” (James 1:14). I assume he says that from experience. And I find my own heart prone to unforgiveness, resentment, jealousy, and selfishness more often than I care to admit.
Believers can and do struggle with just about any kind of sinful lust. This is why the struggle is so affirming. Before God’s Spirit came into you, you didn’t struggle with sin—you ran toward it eagerly! But now God’s Spirit lives in you, and you feel the tension of that struggle every day. The strongest evidence of my growth in grace is not absence of struggle, but the growing recognition of my need of grace.
9. As we close this up, if you had 30 seconds to speak to a believer who was greatly struggling with assurance. What would you say to them?
It would, of course, depend on the situation of the person I was talking to, as a wayward believer needs to be treated differently than a humble seeker, but essentially I would ask them if their present posture is one of submission to Christ’s Lordship and trust in his finished work. If so, they are saved, even if they don’t remember the prayer or the moment they got into that posture. If not, then it doesn’t matter what prayer they prayed.
Second, I would ask them to consider whether the signs of eternal life are present in them. As John explains so thoroughly in 1 John, conversion does not bring sinless perfection, but it does begin to make fundamental changes in the human heart.
______________
If you would like to purchase “Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart" click here.
If you would like to see other books by J.D. Greear, click here.
_
Cross-posted from Micah's personal blog.
Women Teaching in the Church?
The question should not be, "Why can't we teach men?" but, "Who will teach the women who want to be taught?" And our response should be, like Isaiah, "Here am I, send me!"
It may be better to sleep on the corner of the rooftop than live with a quarrelsome woman, but friends, educate that woman and there is hardly a limit to what she can do with her mouth and mind—for good or evil.
God created woman as a helper knowing Adam would need help. What that help was exactly will be up for debate for centuries; we only know that the command to both man and woman at that point was to be fruitful, multiply, and subdue the earth. A friend of mine confesses that at times he fears exposing his weaknesses to women in his life for various reasons. To which I replied that a woman was born to see a need, to come and encompass that need, nurture it until the time is right for it to be birthed into something more beautiful than he could imagine. We are built to help in ways men will never be able to help. That is our good design.
Disciplers on the Rise
Another friend and I were talking recently about the droves of women coming out of seminary in the coming years. These women have or will have studied biblical texts, learned Hebrew and Greek proficiently, interacted with scholars, and written theses. They have a deep and true abiding love of God's word, and the inerrancy of it. A few quick internet searches show women make up more than 51% of seminary students, and we should expect that number to grow as the Church at large is increasingly heavy on the side of female presence.
These women have taken the command to be fruitful and multiply seriously, and for many, in the absence of their own children, they have become incubators of God's word. They meditate on it, murmur on it, pray it, speak it, and teach it. They are poised for a gracious reception of hungry souls, souls weary of milk, starving for meat. They are disciples.
And even more, they are disciplers.
They may hold a collective Master of Divinity, they may give their brothers a run for their money in both their drive and grace, but over all of it, they see a distinct need in the world and want to help it. They are like the hen who gathers her chicks, finding the odd ones out and pulling them close, covering over, receiving the broken and disillusioned. And brothers: They should not be a threat to you.
Send Me, I'll Go
As the culmination of all things draws near, we grow more poised for a more holistic picture of what Paul said when he said, "Neither Jew nor Greek, neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus (Gal. 3:28)." Why? Because these women are perfectly situated to teach women. They are the Naomis, the marginalized taking the faces of future women in their hands and saying, "Here is how we see the Kingdom built, and it will take daring women who trust and believe the word of God, who will do beautifully vulnerable things to see the birth of a King brought forth."
As secular feminism is on the rise, more and more women within the Church will be looking for strong female voices. They are not looking for poor theology, but many of them haven't been taught how to study their bibles, or how to discern good theology from bad. Our culture is not the same as when the New Testament was written—more women than ever are without husbands or godly fathers, so there is more of an opportunity than ever for us to be like the women Paul wrote of in his letter to Titus: teaching what is good (Titus 2:3). Culturally it may look different than the first century Christian women looked like, but the message is still the same: the gospel comes in, fills out, changes us, and sends us out to make disciples.
- Has God given you the opportunity to learn the biblical languages? Teach other women so they might rightly discern what is true.
- Have you studied Church history? Teach women so they might help change history.
- Have you been given the gift of a discerning eye and mind? Teach women to exegete the Word, instead of the proof-texting all too common in studies meant for women.
- Has God radically transformed your heart in regard to the gospel? Extol His name to others in everything you say and do.
The question should not be, "Why can't we teach men?" but, "Who will teach the women who want to be taught?"
And our response should be, like Isaiah, "Here am I, send me!"
Autonomy and the Gospel
by Rick White.
Rick White is the Lead Pastor of CityView Church in Fort Worth, Texas and serves as the Network Director for the South Central region of Acts 29. Rick has been married to Stephanie for 17 years and has four children.
___
One of the most prevalent character traits of our culture is our desire for autonomy. When others infringe upon our perceived independence, we often get defensive and closed off. How can this be? After all, can there be such a thing as a “self-ruling person” in the Kingdom of God? In Matthew 11, Jesus gives us the answer:
25 At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:25-30
To understand what Jesus is saying in Matthew 11:25-30, we must consider that in the prior passage Jesus has just highlighted several cities for their rejection of the Gospel. So as a follow up in the above text, Jesus describes the kind of people that DO have the capacity to respond favorably to the Gospel. What does He say? Three things:
1. Needy and utterly helpless people are ready to respond favorably to the Gospel. In contrast, self-sufficient, self-reliant, prideful people cannot receive the Gospel.
Jesus says that only those that come as infants – people in great need and wholly dependent - are ready for the Gospel. Put another way, the Gospel is something that a person must receive – it is not something that is found and it is not something one can take or appropriate for one’s own purposes.
A receiver depends on another; a taker is self-reliant. A receiver needs God to initiate a relationship. A taker only needs God to respect our autonomy and stand still while we seek to find Him.
What are some ways that we fail to receive? For one, we seek and find value from within ourselves and others instead of receiving our value and worth from the Father. Only God can reveal to us the truth about who we are as His created and precious children. We need God to define us, not ourselves.
Another way we fail to receive is that we often create truths on our own instead of receiving with gladness the truth in God’s revelation to us. How often do we approach the Bible with questions we demand to be answered instead of with receptive hearts, ready to hear answers to questions we haven’t even asked? Like Nicodemus (John 3), our non-receptive hearts can betray us as experts in the Scriptures teaching, yet immune to the Spirit that illumines the Scripture’s meaning.
2. Those that look to Jesus as the ultimate and final revelation of the Father can receive the Gospel. In contrast, those that try to look to everything but Jesus will never truly understand the Gospel.
Jesus is God. God entered our world to reveal Himself to us. Therefore, Jesus is our only hope for knowing who God is. Autonomy tells us to find God in other ways apart from Jesus through philosophy, theology, personal study, logic, or desire. Only God can reveal God to us.
Even when we look to Jesus, we often-times look to a Jesus of our own making. Without fail, our personally constructed Jesus always seems to agree with our thoughts and our pet-causes. Our personal Jesus is always on our side. It is only through a spiritually vital relationship with Jesus – by way of Holy Spirit – that we can know, experience and be submissive to our only image of the invisible God.
And while this passage doesn’t explicitly say so, Jesus has and will continue to say after this passage that it is necessary for him to die. He will be the final, perfect sacrifice for sins. For those that know they need God to intervene and rescue them, Jesus gladly reveals Himself as the answer to their rescue – and no other answer will deliver or satisfy.
3. Those that stand prepared to repent regularly are ready to receive the Gospel. Inversely, those that refuse a life of repentance cannot experience or live out the Gospel and the abundant life it promises.
Those seeking autonomy are a weary and burdened people – some realize it…others clench their knuckles and dig in their heels. When one tries to please God on their own, they end up serving idols that keep failing to deliver. Idols weigh people down because they offer instant peace but only supply more painful work as time moves on.
God's people are told to turn to restful work, submitted to serving God through the light, eternal yoke of Jesus. Verses 28-30 are our invitation to turn away from anything that reinforces our self-sufficiency and autonomy and to become joyful, burden-free workers for God’s Kingdom. These verses are our invitation to repent – not as just a point in time act – put as an ongoing receiver of God’s merciful grace-yoke.
What is keeping you from responding favorably to the Gospel today?