Remembering Pentecost For Mission Today

Few things incite heated debate among evangelicals quicker than the mention of Pentecost. A mere reference to Acts 2 invites detailed discussions on the nature of glossolalia that disrupts even the best unity. In a church culture undeniably divided over the details of Pentecost, it’s important to remember the ultimate redemptive-historical significance of Pentecost and the implications it has for the mission of the church.

The Significance of Pentecost For Redemptive History

Pentecost marked the beginning of the end. It was the final event in the saving career of Jesus Christ and the fulfillment of the long-awaited promise of the outpouring of God’s Spirit that initiated the last days (Joel 2:28-32; Ezek. 36:22-32). Jesus lived a perfect Spirit-filled life, died in the place of sinners as a substitutionary sacrifice, was raised from the dead on the third day, and was exalted to the right hand of the Father after forty days. He received the promise of the Holy Spirit from the Father and ten days later, on the day of Pentecost, poured out the Spirit upon all those who were gathered together (Acts 2:1-4).

Salvation history would never be the same.

The outpouring of the Spirit completed the inauguration of a new era in God’s redemptive program—the messianic age or the age of the Spirit—that begun in the first coming of Christ. This epoch stretches from Pentecost until the Lord’s second coming and is characterized by the radical evangelization of the nations. During these last days, all who repent of sin and believe in the Lord Jesus become participants in the blessings of this new age.

When it comes to Pentecost, I’d urge you not to miss the forest for the trees. What you believe about the glossolalia or the work of the Holy Spirit prior to Pentecost is a secondary matter. The defining feature of Acts 2 is the outpouring of God’s Spirit in fulfillment of the new covenant promises. Oh, how God’s people had longed for this day! One flawed generation after another testified to the fact that fallen humans could never keep God’s law; they could never carry out his mission. They needed more than the law; they needed a new heart that desired to keep the law. They needed more than a mission; they needed a new Spirit to empower them for God’s mission.

Acts 2 clearly conveys that that day had arrived; the long-promised outpouring of the Spirit had finally come as a result of Jesus’ work. A new age had dawned and now people from every nation under heaven could experience the indwelling presence of the Spirit and receive a new heart leading to new life. These people—saved by grace and marked by the Spirit—were then tasked with and empowered for the greatest mission ever conceived.

The Implications of Pentecost For Life On Mission

Christian discipleship would be unthinkable, even impossible, were it not for the coming of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost. Before he ascended Jesus told his disciples,

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth” – Acts 1:8

Remember the disciples spent three years doing ministry with Jesus before his crucifixion, forty days listening to him speak about the kingdom of God after his resurrection, ten days devoting themselves to prayer after the ascension and yet—and yet!—it was only after Pentecost that they began to boldly proclaim the Word of God in power and call all people to repentance without wavering. The differences in the disciples’ lives and their ability to carry out Jesus’ mission pre-Pentecost and post-Pentecost are striking. This is because the outpouring of the Spirit transforms the people of God. Look at what happens in Acts 2:

• Believers become an empowered people (2:14-40).
• Believers become a missionary people (Acts 2:41; 47).
• Believers become a unified people (Acts 2:42-47).

As present-day disciples of Jesus we need to realize, we are no different from those first disciples. We too would be powerless to carry out Jesus’ mission apart from the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The Great Commission would feel like a mission destined to fail from the beginning were it not for the empowering presence of God’s Spirit. Praise God he did send his promised Spirit! Because of Pentecost we are now the empowered, missional, and unified people of God. We are commissioned by Christ to make disciples of all nations and equipped by the Spirit to live out that call.

Today, as you seek to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ and make disciples of those whom God has entrusted to your care, don’t live as if Pentecost isn’t a reality. Many of you are excessively burdened by Jesus’ call to make disciples because you are trying to do it in your own strength. You are trying to give life without acknowledging the Life-Giver; you are trying to impart understanding without relying on the Spirit of Truth; you are trying to witness to the world without drawing from the Source of Power. You look all too much like the disbelieving, scattered disciples during Christ’s passion rather than the empowered people of God sent on mission.

Many of you need to repent of your self-reliance and man-centered methods of discipleship. Human programs are a poor substitute for the power of the Spirit of God. Turn from those ways and learn to listen to the leading of the Spirit through God’s Word and prayer. Daily ask Christ to fill you afresh with his Spirit so that you might be empowered to live life on mission. As you remember Pentecost, acknowledge the redemptive-historical significance of it for disciple-making and celebrate the fact that you have been equipped with power from on high to be Christ’s witnesses to the ends of the earth.

—

Whitney Woollard has served in ministry alongside her husband Neal for over six years. She holds an undergraduate degree in Biblical Studies from Moody Bible Institute and just finished her Master of Arts in Biblical and Theological Studies from Western Seminary. She is passionate about equipping disciples to read and study God’s Word well resulting in maturing affections for Jesus and his gospel message. Neal and Whitney currently live in Portland, OR where they love serving the local church. Follow her on Twitter @whitneywoollard.

3 Essential Truths to Kill Our Desire to Prove Ourselves

Yes, my hand is raised. I am guilty. I didn't know it at the time. But my goal to become an Ironman was really an attempt to justify my existence—an opportunity to prove myself, to myself. I was a 27-year-old pregnant crying mess. Terrified by motherhood because my chance to make "something" of myself was passing. Sad that the next 20 years would not be all-about-me.

Deep down, I knew this was shallow. I wrestled with the value of temporary vs eternal success. My mind defined success as becoming a very obedient child of God, but my heart longed to defend its worth through achievement. This struggle birthed my theme song:

My hope is built on nothing less Than Jesus blood and my success, I dare not trust in my own fame, But halfway lean on Jesus name.

Do those lyrics sound familiar? Are you worried your life will be a failure without a strong resume? Do you have a history of chasing achievement, hoping that your next win will bring self-approval? Have you divided your life into two categories eternal and temporal? Clinging to Jesus to justify your eternal soul, but also clinging to success to justify your temporal life?

For the next two years, after my darling boy arrived, Ironman ran my life. Motivated and scared by the impossible task of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run. The fear of failure and a persistent hope for self-acceptance inspired my training. I wholeheartedly believed crossing the finish line would validate my personhood.

In the cool evening air, applause erupted and the loud speaker bellowed, "Now, crossing the finish line is Tracy Richardson, a 29 year old mom from Arkansas. Tracy, you-are-an-Ironman!"

I eagerly anticipated that upon hearing those words I would burst into a stream of hot joyful tears. That I would be overwhelmed emotionally. That this achievement would be cemented as my defining moment. Nothing happened. Instead, I was slightly disappointed. First, because I'm from Alaska, not Arkansas. Second, I shed no tears. No fireworks went off inside of me. I couldn’t celebrate my newly justified self. I was still-just-me, only exhausted.

Ironman was a great experience for me, but it was not enough. Several days later, after some good rest, I came up with a new dream. Opening my own business. This time it would be different. Building my own little kingdom, from the ground up, would absolutely certify my success as a human being.

OK, so, why do I keep repeating these works for self-validation? Why do you? Why do we default to achievement, positive that it will validate our lives?

"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ" (Rom. 5:1). Paul instructs us on three essential truths to kill our desire to prove ourselves. These three gospel truths will combat our self-justification and selfish ambition.

1. God holds the position of Judge over our lives, not us.

As disciples of Jesus we submit to the standard God sets as judge. Our sin nature loves to play judge. We must resist the urge to analyze our faults and decide what will make us right. Our value and worth comes as we accept God’s judgment against us and cling to Jesus’ death as payment for the penalty. Our identity is no longer flawed; we have a new identity. You are a true child of God who lives to show everyone how awesome your Fathers is.

2. Peace with God is our greatest need, not peace with ourselves.

We all walk around with a gapping wound in our hearts. The wound is where intimacy with God once dwelt.  We feel our brokenness. This ache compels us to do "things" to bring peace to our hearts. Some of us try achievement, some the perfect body, some relationships. For believers this will be an ongoing struggle until we are transformed by seeing “the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). In the mean time, we must be in a community of believers who will faithfully point us back to the gospel. Brothers and sisters who will remind you that before you came to faith in the Lord Jesus Christ you were spiritually dead, without hope, and facing eternal punishment. We need the daily reminder that peace comes from a right relationship with God, not achievement.

3. Christ's work on the cross is the most important accomplishment, not ours.

As a disciple of Jesus it is faith in his finished work on the cross that gives us merit. In a culture that stresses our accomplishments as most valuable, we are easily tempted to lean on our resume. When we focus on our achievements to bring us wholeness, we make little of the cross. If it is our success that makes us acceptable in our own eyes, then we have trampled the cross and raised up our own accomplishments. It is only the Holy Spirit who transforms our self-promoting hearts.

Friends, join me and repent from vain-justification. Turn and savor peace with God. Ask the Spirit to renew your mind with John the Baptists words about Jesus "He must increase, but I must decrease" (Jn. 3:30). We will recognize the Holy Spirits work in our lives when we begin to boast more and more of Christ's accomplishments and less of our own.

—

Tracy Richardson (@alaskagospelgrl) serves at Radiant Church in Fairbanks, Alaska as the Church Planters Wife. She loves to study scripture, throw parties, and run trails. She has a B.S.S. in Fine Art and Literature. She is also Mamma Bear to two wild cubs.

Jesus the Cowboy Hero

An isolated town is in trouble. Maybe it’s a gang of outlaws. Maybe it’s a greedy rancher, or a dictatorial mayor. In any case, bad men are having their way with the townsfolk. More importantly, there’s a beautiful woman in town and they’re after her too. She’s resisting tyranny—of course she is—while working to help the oppressed.

Then a cowboy rides into town. He’s tough. He’s quiet. He’s got a heart of gold. He’s drawn into the conflict. He shoots a bunch of bad people and works his way up to the chief bad guy himself. A showdown ensues—of course it does. The town is saved. The beautiful woman asks the cowboy to stay, but he can’t. He has to ride on, back into the wilderness. There are other good deeds waiting to be done.

I have always loved Westerns. I will watch any movie that features a cowboy with a six- shooter. I was born and raised in West Texas, and that is partially to blame for this affection. As a boy I would watch an episode of The Lone Ranger, then I’d put on my sheriff’s badge, grab my cap guns, and walk out onto the range, ready for adventure.

I’m not alone either. Americans love Westerns. We are fascinated by the myth of the cowboy-hero.

But of all the cowboy heroes, my favorite was Captain James Tiberius Kirk. Wait. What? Don’t act so surprised. Surely you knew that Star Trek was a Western, right? The only difference is that Kirk beamed in with a transporter rather than rode in on a horse.

Let us investigate: Captain Kirk, accompanied by sidekicks, rides down to the lonely planet on his transporter beam. He fights the bad guys, rescues the planet, and leaves the beautiful woman behind. He beams back to his spaceship leaving grateful aliens to stare up at the sky and wonder what life would be like if only Kirk wasn’t such a busy hero.

I had another sci-fi cowboy hero when I was a kid. This one I heard about at church. His name was Jesus. The Ascension of Jesus Christ sounds a lot like the Beaming of Captain Kirk. You remember the story. Forty days after the Resurrection, Jesus meets his followers near Bethany (Luke 24:50-53). He tells them to return to Jerusalem and wait for the coming of the Holy Sprit. Then he’s gone, up into the sky. Luke describes it this way “he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven” (Luke 24:50-53, NIV).

Jesus the Cowboy Hero

Some Christians see the Ascension as the last page of a dime-store novel called Jesus the Cowboy Hero: Western Adventure. Earth was in trouble. The land was dominated by sin, the devil, and other ”bad men.” God’s people were trying to hold out and stay strong. Then one day Jesus rode into their midst. He conquered the bad guys. The people of God, the beautiful “Bride of Christ,” are grateful. They want him to stay but he can’t, he has to move on. So they are left staring up into the sky wondering if they will ever see him again.

Of course, most Christians don’t literally think that Jesus is a cowboy-hero. But unfortunately, some of our popular theology is so corrupt that we’ve essentially made him into one. We’ve created a cowboy god, a hero who cared enough to come down and save us from sin, but not enough to stick around. He left us tickets for the 3:10 to heaven, but staying in town to help rebuild after the showdown wasn’t of much interest to him, and off he rode, a beam of light into the sunset.

But that cheap dime-store novel is a lie. The God of the Bible stands in stark contrast to that irrelevant god. Unlike the cowboy who rides off when showdown is over, the Ascended Christ is now more invested in his Creation than ever.

It was an amazing thing for the non-corporeal God, a being who is not made of anything, to create everything. It was an act of incomprehensible humility for God to become a part of his creation by being made man. It was the greatest act of love imaginable for the God- man to die an insurgent’s death, to descend to the dead, and then to rise again to eternal life. It was absolutely inconceivable that this God-man would then take his whole self back into the throne room of his Father. One of the great mysteries of the universe is that Jesus Christ, who is fully God and fully man, now reigns forever in his corporeal body. When Jesus ascended he didn’t slither out of his skin, leaving the human part behind. God became a man and now that man is God. For God so loved his Creation (John 3:16), that he has now made himself a part of his Creation forever.

When Jesus was resurrected he appeared to his disciples in a perfect, eternal body, eating and drinking, but also walking through walls. Scripture says that when he ascended he sat down at the right hand of God (Ephesians 1:20). Because Jesus is still flesh he must be in some sort of physical location. But at the same time, he is God and sits at the right hand of the Father. Where is the “right hand”? Where is God? Everywhere. Christ is both present in a single place and also present everywhere. How? I have no idea. What I do know is that Christ is everywhere available, everywhere loving, everywhere knowable.

But “sitting at the right hand of the Father” is not simply about location; it’s about power. Jesus’ ascension is his enthronement. Paul writes: “(God) raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way is King of his Creation.” (Ephesians 1:20-23 NIV) Christ is the King who fills, with his own self, all that he has made. As Kuyper said. “There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’”

The Ascension Changes Everything

The Ascension fundamentally changed the relationships between God, humanity, and the created order.Kirk comes and goes in fifty minutes. The planet he saves may be altered by his presence, but the Captain is always the same. Not so with Christ. The great Church Father St. John Chrysostom pointed out that the same Father who once said to flesh and blood “you are dust, and to dust you shall return” now looks at the flesh and blood of his Son and says “sit at my right hand.” Jesus’ story is the opening and closing chapter of the tale of us all. We were dust, now we’re flesh. We will fall to dust but be raised to a greater flesh than we can now imagine.

Chrysostom goes on to say that “we who were unworthy of earthly dominion have been raised to the Kingdom on high, have ascended higher than heaven, have come to occupy the King's throne, and the same nature from which the angels guarded Paradise, stopped not until it ascended to the throne of the Lord.” God has become Man so that humanity can now be welcomed into the divine life. Creation is already redeemed and awaits its coming restoration.

The Ascension is divine proof that the world matters. This world. The world of cowboys and townsfolk, bad men and heroes. If it did not, why would Christ fill it? Why would he reign over it? Why would he love it? Why would the Father accept the Created onto his own throne?

Because the Ascension changed the world it must also change the way we understand the world. The Ascension is like a new and better eyeglass prescription. When we look through it, we see what we have always seen; but we see it more clearly. This is especially true of our relationship to Creation.

Many years ago, I moved from Pittsburgh to San Antonio. I had to live apart from my wife for a couple of months. During this time I lived in an apartment with a month- to- month lease while I looked for a more permanent home. It was an old and dirty unit with broken appliances and dated wallpaper. I had several framed pieces of art with me, but I never hung any of them on the walls. I tried to ignore the walls and the faulty appliances. I never fixed the broken toilet in the second bathroom. Why not? Because it was a transitional place. I didn’t care about it.

Many Christians, lacking an understanding of the Ascension (as well as the Creation, Incarnation, and Second Coming) treat this world like I treated that apartment. While it’s true that we are sojourners (Hebrews 11:16), the Ascension must reframe our thinking. We are called to live here like my wife and I lived at our more permanent place in Texas. We bought furniture. We painted a room. We kept the place good repair. We hung up our pictures.

The Created World Matters

The Ascension shows us that the created world matters because it’s filled with Christ. As Christ’s brothers and sisters, we are called upon to care for creation. The curse is rolling back. Adam’s children may once again care for God’s garden. When some company wants to strip the land with no regard for our grandchildren, it should be the Church that rises up in opposition. When it comes to making decisions about how we consume the earth’s resources, it should be Christians who are most willing to sacrifice our convenience. Christians should be known for the creative ways in which we protect and restore the world we inhabit here and now.

We who bear the image of Christ should be leading the way in caring for our own physical bodies while also showing concern for the health of all people. Medicine, exercise, biology, nutrition, and a whole host of other disciplines are meant to bring glory to Christ. Eating disorders, drunkenness, and sexual immorality are symptoms of a population that has not been formed in the beauty of the Ascended Christ.

The Creation matters, and so does co-creation. By “co-creation” I mean our participation with God in bringing order, truth, and beauty out of chaos. All of Creation is now under the gracious dominion of Christ. When we co-create with him, our work becomes part of his glorious kingdom. Everything from our painting and songwriting to our baking and childrearing finds eternal significance at the Father’s right hand. The Ascension proclaims the validity of our work, our creativity, and the joys of this world.

The Ascension challenges us to rethink our cowboy mythology, our Captain Kirk worldview. Our stories, especially our fiction, should point to the Truth. The Hero of the universe is fully invested in building up his people, in loving his children, and in ruling all aspects of our lives. He hasn’t ridden off into the sunset. He hasn’t beamed back into the heavens. He’s moved in, and he’s done it in the biggest way we can imagine. When we tell our tales, are we representing this kind of heroism? When we consider the narratives of our own lives, what is it that we see as heroic? Is it the full engagement with, and care for, our communities, our families, and even our possessions? It should be.

All of us are storytellers, whether we have a large audience, or a small circle of family and friends, or even if we are simply whispering to ourselves. Some of us still tell our tales by the campfire, dusty from a day out on the range. We’re cowboys, but maybe we can be cowboys who stick around for a while. By the grace of God, maybe we can tell true stories. Maybe we reject isolation and self-sufficiency. Maybe we can know ourselves as fully accepted children of God, people whose work has eternal significance, and whose true value is a gift of pure mercy.

—

Thomas McKenzie (@thomasmckenzie) is the founding pastor of Church of the Redeemer in Nashville, Tennessee. He's the author of The Anglican Way: A Guidebook. Thomas writes for several websites, including ThomasMcKenzie.com. He lives in Nashville with his wife and two daughters.

Blessed Are Those Not Offended by Christ

Matthew’s story of John the Baptist asking who Jesus was (Matt. 11:1-6) deserves our undivided attention. This is a familiar passage and one we should run to in time of need. John the Baptist was imprisoned at the outset of Jesus’ public ministry (4:12), so he had heard about the deeds of Christ (11:2), but is somewhat baffled he’s still in jail. He wonders why cataclysmic judgment has yet to occur. Many at that time thought that the Messiah who was promised to come would bring fiery judgment against God’s enemies and vindicate his people. The prophets before had promised it. John himself continued to herald that message. But things hadn’t panned out for John. He was imprisoned somewhere east of the Dead Sea because of Herod’s self-involved infatuation and egotism, and Rome was still occupying the land. With a hint of bewilderment, John’s disciples ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (11:3).

A UNIQUE RESPONSE

That’s a loaded question—but one that would be asked several times until Jesus asks Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” How does Jesus answer this? His reply is puzzling. Jesus pulls from several passages in Isaiah describing what is happening under His ministry: the blind can see, the lame are now walking, lepers are cleansed, the deaf can now hear, the dead are raised, and the poor hear the gospel preached. Careful readers will note that in quoting Isaiah, Jesus leaves off two remarkable things: The day of vengeance (which would come in A.D. 70; cf. Is. 35:4 with Lk. 21:22), and the release of prisoners (Is. 61:1). No doubt John the Baptist would have been mildly shocked to hear that the Messiah’s work would not involve a rescue and release plan for him. A cruel fate under the Sovereign care of God would await John (Matt. 14:1-12).

CRYPTIC WISDOM

The real shock comes when Jesus sends John’s inquiring disciples away with this beatitude: “Blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (vs. 6). John was not offended with Christ; he was merely inquisitive about this Lamb who was to take away the sins of the world. Just prior Jesus had explained God’s Kingdom demands for his disciples (Matt. 10). Mockery, ridicule, slander, and even death awaits the disciple of Christ. John’s story is no different. Don’t we face real temptation to be offended by Christ? Or to be put off, embarrassed, or ashamed by him?

Jesus calls the one who is not ashamed blessed. Remarkable, isn’t it? In terms of worldly standards, Jesus was just a nice guy who got caught up in something nasty. Wrong place, wrong time. Why should we waste time giving him a second thought? He failed to meet so many people’s expectations, so why bother?

True Discipleship

Many are so offended and embarrassed they angrily persist in an unrepentant, unregenerate state. They find the claims of Christ to be a stumbling block and a waste of time. They are put off by Jesus’ followers, message, and truth. Ultimately they will never take up their cross and follow Him because to them there is no holy and righteous God and, because of that, his atonement is irrelevant. Who needs a savior if there is nothing to be saved from?

Others, as Spurgeon said, profess Christ, “Who join the Church of Jesus Christ [and] after a time are offended.”^[1] For them he explains, “The novelty wears off.”  Of course, it does. I’ve seen it in my church. People come, are excited about the music, the kids programs, the coffee, and maybe even the sermon! They commit to serving the body of Christ, even jumping head first into the next opportunity—then the novelty wears off. In a culture that thrives on discontinuous change, we must consider, whether or not with so many options inundating us we want to continue in this vein of pleasure. The modern church movement hasn’t helped. Flash-in-the-pan ministry may amp up a crowd and “prime the pump” with exciting commodities, but then things get hard because a loved one got cancer, a marriage fell apart, or depression sets in. Novelty won’t steer you through that pain—only a deep and wide understanding of the gospel will.

When it comes to being offended by Christ, Jesus envisioned this last category for blessings. For those not offended like John the Baptist, for those not put off by him, and for those not ashamed to call him “Lord,” Jesus had blessings in store. Counterfeit discipleship cannot, and will not, stand the test of time. True discipleship is not being offended with Christ. Discipleship does not get tripped up by Jesus’ message, demands, and calling. It does not look to the things of this world for happiness. It abides, not in the whims of man and the tides of contemporary culture—but abides in Christ. Because of that, the Lord Jesus calls all those who are his disciples blessed.

As a pastor, this is the type of discipleship I strive to promote. It’s the hard stuff of life that shapes us into disciples of Christ. It’s calling people to endure through the trials and tribulations, that inevitably come our way. Don’t expect worldly success. It’s not attractive. The culture we swim in here in America places high value on the new and shiny. We cater to this by giving the novelties, and get upset when we realize that it just doesn’t work. Success and blessings come in the form faithfulness. Faithfulness is found in refusing to be offended by Christ.

^[1] C. H. Spurgeon, The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Sermons, vol. 24 (London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1878), 91.

—

Rev. Jason M. Garwood (M.Div., Th.D.) serves as Lead Pastor of Colwood Church in Caro, MI and author of Be Holy and The Fight for Joy. Jason and his wife Mary have three children, Elijah, Avery and Nathan. He blogs at www.jasongarwood.com. Connect with him on Twitter: @jasongarwood.

The Foundation for True Reality

“I feel abandoned and forsaken by God.” I’ve heard this sentence in one form or another countless times from people overcome by their feelings in the midst of life. I find feelings interesting because they can infiltrate our entire being and hold us captive to whatever impression they give in the moment. Although they aren’t bad in and of themselves, our feelings become problematic when they don’t reflect true reality.

As a “feeler” by nature, God’s constantly readjusting my feelings-based perception of reality to the truth of his Word. Recently, he used the book of Ezekiel to do this. Yes, Ezekiel comes to us from a distant land in the ancient world far removed from anything you and I experience. And, sure, this book is full of confusing imagery, strange sign-acts, and language that makes many modern audiences blush. If you’re willing to overcome some of its cumbersome content, you’ll discover that Ezekiel has profound implications for what it means to think and feel rightly as a member of God’s covenant community.

The Book of Ezekiel

Ezekiel 1:1 begins “In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month.” Why begin with this date? Thirtieth year of what? Though it’s debated, many scholars believe it refers to Ezekiel’s age. If so, it was the year of the prophet’s thirtieth birthday. The significance of this lies in verse three, “the word of the LORD came to Ezekiel the priest, the son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the Chebar canal.”

Historically, we know Ezekiel as a prophet. As the son of Buzi, he grew up preparing to be a priest—the greatest calling one received in ancient Israel. His years would have been spent in preparation for the day when he would enter the temple in Jerusalem in holy service to Yahweh. Numbers 4:3 explains that priests were qualified to serve from the age of thirty to fifty; therefore, everything Ezekiel dreamed of doing from childhood on would come to fruition on his thirtieth birthday.

However his birthday had come and he’s not in the temple. Actually, he’s not even in Jerusalem. He’s “among the exiles by the Chebar canal” (1:1), “in the land of the Chaldeans” (1:3). Get this—Ezekiel’s in Babylon! He wasn’t ministering in the presence of Yahweh. He wasn’t enjoying the prestige of being a priest. He wasn’t even living in the comfort of his own land. Instead, he’d been taken as an exile in the first wave of the Babylonian captivity. He was living in an unclean land as a refugee surrounded by every imaginable evil.

“It was the fifth year of the exile” (1:2). He’d been there five years! Don’t miss the weight of this. He was ripped from his country, taken from his livelihood, denied the privilege of serving as a priest, and isolated from the presence of God . . . for five years. No Word of the LORD. No temple. No access to God. Furthermore, in the ancient world the victory of a nation meant the victory of their god. Thus, Babylon’s victory over Israel implied its victory over Israel’s God. Needless to say, Ezekiel was experiencing defeat in every conceivable way.

Humor me for a moment—imagine how Ezekiel must have felt.

Take him off his prophetic high horse and think about him as a real person. Do you think he felt abandoned by God? Possibly forgotten? Do you think he felt as if God were out of control or had given up on his people?

Christopher Wright insightfully writes,

“There is no reason to imagine that Ezekiel would have been immune to the doubts and questions that would have settled like the dust of the Mesopotamian plains on the huts of the exiles. For five years he had mourned and wondered and questioned. Five years is a long time for a refugee. The conclusion that Yahweh had abandoned them must have been close to irresistible.” ^[1]

Everything around Ezekiel pointed towards the conclusion that Yahweh had indeed abandoned him. But life is not always as it seems, nor is everything we feel the ultimate reality. Circumstances have a powerful way of shaping our feelings, but God stands above our circumstances and often works in mysterious ways. Thus, it is God’s Word, not our feelings, which offers the true interpretation of reality.

The Word of the LORD

Such is the case in the book of Ezekiel. It’s only when the Word of the LORD comes to Ezekiel that he understands what’s going on. He discovers all of his training as a priest was to prepare him for his true calling as a prophet. He realizes Babylon and its gods had not won the day. Instead, Yahweh, the God of all the heavens and earth, used Babylon as an agent of wrath to discipline wayward Israel. He learns the exile wasn’t happenstance; it was God’s sovereign plan to bring Israel to a place of recognition of sin and repentance from idolatry. He finds out God has a plan of restoration for his people, which he will initiate under the New Covenant.

Without the Word of the LORD coming to Ezekiel how could he have understood this? Praise God his Word did come to Ezekiel! We now have the written record of God interpreting redemptive history through Ezekiel in such a way that it gives us a filter greater than our feelings to make sense of circumstances. Ezekiel teaches us that despite everything we see and feel we can now we serve a God who is in control, meticulously working all things out to his ends for the glory of his name and the good of his people.

Ezekiel speaks powerfully to me about what’s really true. When I feel like God has abandoned me, I’m reminded God will never forsake those who have entered into covenant with him. When I feel like I’m spiritually and emotionally exiled, I’m reminded God pursues his children to the remotest parts of the earth—even into “Babylon.” When I feel like God doesn’t have a plan for my life, I’m reminded God is working all things out (including my life) for his purposes.

The Gospel of Christ

Moreover, Ezekiel points me forward to the supreme truth revealed in Christ. The prophet held out hope to languishing exiles that abandonment wasn’t the final word. God was going to bring about a New Covenant in which he would cleanse them and give them new hearts so they could be in right relationship with him (Ezek. 36:22-38). Christian, we are now living in the New Covenant. We are partaking in what Ezekiel longed to see. On this side of the cross, we have witnessed the climax of God’s prophetic promises in the person of the Son. Hebrews 1:1-2 says, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.”

You see, Jesus and his redemptive work is God’s final Word to us! The gospel, the good news that we can be in covenant relationship with God forever on the basis of the Son’s merit, is God’s definitive Word. God has spoken with finality about his love and commitment to us through the Son. So, when our feelings seek to distort this truth we must choose to believe the Word of the LORD as revealed in the gospel. Whatever you’re going through and feeling in this moment I want to remind you that Jesus is God’s Word to you—he’s your ultimate reality. His work on your behalf is the lens through which you can (and should!) interpret all of life.

^[1] Wright, Christopher J.H. The Message of Ezekiel: A New Heart and a New Spirit. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2001. Print.

—

Whitney Woollard has served in ministry alongside her husband Neal for over six years. She holds an undergraduate degree in Biblical Studies from Moody Bible Institute and just finished her Master of Arts in Biblical and Theological Studies from Western Seminary. She is passionate about equipping disciples to read and study God’s Word well resulting in maturing affections for Jesus and his gospel message. Neal and Whitney currently live in Portland, OR where they love serving the local church. Follow her on Twitter @whitneywoollard.

The Secret to Making Kingdom Citizens

What is the Gospel? Some may wonder why I’ve started with such a simple question. Isn’t the gospel that we are justified by faith alone? Isn’t the gospel about personal salvation and faith in Jesus? Isn’t the gospel about how we can go to heaven when we die?

These are common answers to the question, but what if none of these are fully correct definitions of the gospel? What if these are true but minimize important aspects of the gospel needed to make disciples?

I want to contend that much of what we mean in evangelical Christianity by the word “gospel” is not how the word is actually used in the New Testament. Again, I’m not saying the emphases above are not true. They absolutely are! We are justified by faith alone; Jesus does give us personal salvation; and we will live forever with Jesus (in a resurrected body in a new heavens and earth). However, they cut short the full definition of the word “gospel” presented in Scripture

Allow me to explain what I mean. We often use the term “gospel” to mean one of two things:

1. Justification by faith – In this definition, the “good news” is that you don’t have to earn salvation.

2. Personal salvation – In this definition the “good news” is that you personally can be saved and escape punishment (usually by “inviting Jesus into your heart”).

3. Going to Heaven – Here, the "good news" is that your soul can go to heaven when you die. (Though people unfortunately forget about the Bible's teaching about bodily resurrection).

Now, some might respond with a possible fourth definition, which is much fuller than the other three presented, which is that the gospel is Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection. This answer is absolutely true (1 Cor. 15:1-5) and it strikes at the heart of the gospel. However, even it must be understood in a larger theological context. Even the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus must be understood in light of the larger gospel theme of the “Kingdom of God.”

How the word “gospel” is used in the New Testament

Allow me to give just a few passages from the New Testament that show the above definitions of the gospel don’t work on their own:

Galatians 3:8 - And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.”

What message was preached to Abraham in the Old Testament that Paul calls the “gospel” in this passage? Was it a message of personal salvation for Abraham? Was it a message of justification by faith? It is true that Abraham was justified by faith, but here the gospel message is that all the nations would be blessed by his seed and that “kings shall come from your own body” (Gen. 35:11).

Mark 14:9 - And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

What is the gospel according to this passage? Is it justification by faith? Is it personal salvation? I often like to tease my students and ask how many of them mention this woman’s story when they share the gospel with their neighbors. Jesus seems to think that her story will be proclaimed wherever the gospel is preached. Here the term “gospel” seems to be related to the entire ministry of Jesus and his program to renew the world.

Luke 9:6 - And he called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. And he said to them, “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics. And whatever house you enter, stay there, and from there depart. And wherever they do not receive you, when you leave that town shake off the dust from your feet as a testimony against them.” And they departed and went through the villages, preaching the gospel and healing everywhere.

In this passage, the disciples must preach the “gospel,” yet they didn’t preach justification by faith. They didn’t preach personal salvation. And, just to add a spark of controversy, the didn’t even preach about Jesus’ death and resurrection! They preached a message of the Kingdom of God breaking into their current situation and demonstrated the Kingdom coming by healing people and casting out demons. This is a message about the Kingdom of God and Jesus calls it the “gospel.”

Galatians 2:11 & 14 - But when Cephas [Peter] came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned . . . [his] conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel.

This is a fascinating passage because Paul had to rebuke Peter because he forgot the gospel. Now, what did Peter forget? Did he forget that Jesus saves people personally? Did he forget that Jesus died for our sins? No, he actually forgot that God’s Kingdom is meant to go forth to all nations and that withdrawing from fellowship with Gentiles was tantamount to denying the gospel.

Then what is the gospel?

We have seen some of the definitions above don’t work on their own with the way the New Testament uses the word “gospel.” What is a better definition of the gospel? The way the gospel is described in the New Testament is a message about the Kingdom of God. It is a message about how God is reestablishing his perfect rule (Kingdom) over the cosmos and reconciling the world through himself by defeating his enemies and reversing the effects of the fall through the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of his Son, King Jesus. To give the best definition of the gospel I can, allow me to quote G.K. Beale:

“The Old Testament is the story of God, who progressively reestablishes his new-creational kingdom out of chaos over a sinful people by his Word and Spirit through promise, covenant, and redemption, resulting in worldwide commission to the faithful to advance this kingdom and judgment (defeat or exile) for the unfaithful, unto his glory. Jesus' life, trials, death for sinners, and especially resurrection by the Spirit have launched the fulfillment of the eschatological already-not yet new-creational reign, bestowed by grace through faith resulting in worldwide commission to the faithful to advance this new-creational reign and resulting in judgment for the unbelieving, unto the triune God's glory.” –G.K. Beale

Wow! What a robust definition of the gospel!

Yes, justification by faith is true. Yes Jesus saves individuals and yes it is good that we don’t have to be condemned when we die. Yes the gospel is absolutely the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. Yes and amen to all these things. However, these must be related to the larger gospel message to make any sense and to truly preach the “gospel” the way the Bible does.

Why is this important for discipleship?

Discipleship flows from the gospel message. Until we teach this larger Kingdom message we will never make the kind of disciples we were meant to. In fact, the reason the church produces converts and not disciples is because we preach a gospel that produces converts and not disciples—we preach an individualistic gospel of justification by faith instead of a holistic gospel of God’s Kingdom.

We often wonder why someone who claims to be a disciple of Jesus comes to church and reads his Bible but is also looking at porn and not serving the poor, not evangelizing his neighbor, and divorcing his spouse, and not studying theology. We often wonder why someone who claims to be a disciple of Jesus can so easily separate their “spiritual” life from their “secular” life.

We have preached a gospel that deals merely with personal salvation so once someone is “saved” there is not much else to think about. They “prayed the prayer” and now it is “mission accomplished.” However, if we realized that the gospel is not just about our “spiritual” lives but about Christ redeeming everything that has gone wrong in the universe it breaks down this sacred/secular divide.

Jesus isn’t just the “Lord of your heart.” He is the Lord of the universe. He is the Lord over your finances. He is the Lord over your sex life. He is the Lord over your marriage. He is the Lord over your hobbies. He is the Lord over your kids. He is the Lord over turtles, and chocolate, and electricity, and quasars, and grass, and everything that exists!

Before maturing disciples, we must teach the gospel in its fullness. A Kingdom gospel will produce Kingdom citizens.May King Jesus give us grace as we seek to love and obey him more.

—

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

7 Extraordinary Ways the Father Loves Us

It’s difficult to grasp God's love for us. For many, the love of Jesus comes through loud and clear, but God the Father often seems distant or looming. Many of our perceptions of God have been distorted by earthly shadows—fathers, employers, leaders, etc. To move forward in loving and being loved by God, we must replace our false ideas with biblically-saturated truth. God’s attributes—including love—aren’t like human traits that strengthen or weaken nor are they like moods that come and go. God is all of his attributes perfectly, all the time. And yet, we still struggle to believe it can be true, that this great God can love us messy and stumbling sinners. Sometimes we don’t feel his love on a day to day basis like we desire, so walls of doubt begin to shut him out. Other times we unwittingly read the Word not through the lens of his love and grace to us in Christ, but through tinted lens of condemnation and guilt.

My hope is that by dwelling on God’s love for us, we’ll move from a general and vague idea to a sweet and personal experience. God desires as much, and once the fountain of the Father’s love is opened we’ll find ourselves stepping into new streams of gratitude, contentment, joy, and security. Here are seven examples from the New Testament of how God clearly and convincingly displays his fatherly love to his children.

1. The Father’s Love in Sending

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son.” (John 3:16)

The Father’s love for us is nowhere more conspicuous than in the sending of his only Son—freely, unprompted, and undeserved. The same Scriptures proclaiming Christ’s love in dying also reveal the immense love of the Father as the sending source. He so loved us that he gave his only begotten Son. This world-famous verse placards the pursuing love of the Father. And it’s not a nebulous or general love, but his particular love to actual persons like you and I.

Whether from the lies of the accuser or deception from our own minds, Christians can act as if Jesus is the good guy who convinces the fear-inducing Father to show mercy. In reality, the Father dearly wants to be in an intimate relationship with us so he dispatches the Son to bring us back. This unmerited love of God shines even brighter against the backdrop of our dark and ill-deserving condition. That’s why the Apostle John erupts with the words, “Here is love!” when he thinks about the Father giving Jesus to bring wayward children into his family. “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:9-10). The cross is the exclamation and the evidence of how much the Father loves us.

2. The Father’s Love in Revealing

“And whoever sees me sees him who sent me.” (John 12:45)

As the Word, Jesus is the self-expression of God. The incarnation points to the Father’s love because it proves he wants to be known in a way that is clear, intimate, and according to truth. Because God is not like us in so many ways and cannot be seen or touched there are moments he might seem remote or intangible. Jesus takes our vague or slightly distorted notions of God and gives us the real picture of the Father in his fullness of grace and truth. We should look to the incarnation of Jesus to see just how near the Father has come. The Son shows us the Father, and through Jesus the invisible God is finally visible.

It should astound us that the infinite, transcendent, and perfect God would make knowing us and being known by us one of his highest priorities. What a joy that God is a Father who doesn’t just show mercy—and that would be wonderful enough—but he wants a real relationship where we know and love him. Our perceptions of God become fuzzy and distorted when we look at earthly figures of fathers or authorities. However, when we look at Jesus the character and compassion of the Father is clearly and accurately put on display.

3. The Father’s Love in Adopting

“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God.” (1 John 3:1)

God the Father’s love can be seen in the friendly and familial vocabulary describing a believer’s relationship with God. We are called his sons and daughters. God wants to be known and seen in this way which is why he draws on the affectionate language of Father and children. “And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying ‘Abba! Father!’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son” (Gal. 4:4-7). Paul was well aware how quickly we retreat back to fearing God as slaves so he presses home the truth we can trust him as children.

Imagine two people in your mind’s eye. First, imagine someone you feel comfortable with because you’re loved and accepted. When with them you don’t ever have to worry about being anything other than yourself. Now visualize a second person who creates an uneasy sense of the need to measure up or being on your best behavior. Think of the difference if you were just sitting in your living room with either person watching TV together or talking. How free do you feel with the first person versus how hesitant or anxious you feel with the second? Because of our justification in Christ, the Bible describes God the Father as the person in the room we should completely trust and therefore find rest with—awake to the fact we are truly known. The Father doesn’t hold back love until we change or earn it. It’s a full stream of God’s unconditional love to his children.

4. The Father’s Love in Comforting

“Blessed be…the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.” (2 Cor. 1:3)

The Father expresses his love in the comfort he gives, and even in the fact he calls us to find our comfort in his fatherly embrace. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3). It’s a slightly different nuance but in Romans 15:5 Paul also calls him the God of encouragement. He doesn’t turn his children away or pile up heavy discouragements on their backs. He’s not looking to criticize you or asking you to toughen up. Instead, he’s a gentle God who gives the comfort we need when we hurt and the encouragement we need when weary.

The discomforts in this world are no match for the comforts of our Father. He wraps his strong but soothing arms around us. The comfort of the Father never goes away. It is not wearied or exhausted by our sins and it isn’t based on our performance. The Father comforts because he is the God of comfort. His love is seen both in the act and in the warm heart that calls us. We might imagine God with arms crossed ready to criticize or condemn, but God assures us that he stands with arms opened ready to welcome and console us.

5. The Father’s Love in Giving

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father.” (Jas. 1:17)

The Father loves us by giving good gifts. He enjoys us enjoying him as we enjoy his gifts. This exhibits his care and provision for us but it also expresses his generous and glad heart towards his children. God hands out who knows how many gifts to us each day, but the problem is we either don’t see the gifts or we don’t stop to consider who they’re from. Gratitude happens when we open our eyes to an awareness of the gifts and then raise our eyes in a response of thanksgiving to the God who gave them. Our joy in gratitude becomes the joy of worship. The gift should always lead to the giver. David Pao says, “Thanksgiving in Paul is an act of worship. It is not focused primarily on the benefits received or the blessed condition of a person; instead, God is the centre of thanksgiving.”1

Jesus argues from the lesser to the greater to bring home the reality of God’s goodness. “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (Luke 11:13). The best examples of earthly fathers in their generosity and gifting are a tiny picture of God’s perfect love. God has blessed us with innumerable blessings, and the more we see them as gifts the greater opportunity we have to delight in the Father. In other words, one way to see God’s heart of love for us is to see the gifts that come from his hand to us.

6. The Father’s Love in Promising

“For all the promises of God find their Yes in [Jesus Christ].” (2 Cor. 1:19)

The Father’s love is seen in the making and fulfilling of promises to his people. All God’s promises to us are confirmed and secured in Jesus (2 Cor. 1:19). First, he loves us by being true and faithful rather than being unreliable or deceptive (Titus 1:2). Nothing gives a greater sense of safety and security than a trustworthy father. Second, he demonstrates his love in the promises themselves. He keeps his word and he offers some pretty amazing blessings. he promises to love us as his own children, to give us his Holy Spirit, to keep us secure in Christ, to wipe away our sins, and to one day come back and restore all things (see Eph. 1:3-14).

The Bible is stocked full of promises that are strong enough and sweet enough to carry us through each day. Promises are God’s caffeine kick to reawaken and energize Christians. One of the best things to do when studying God’s Word is to intentionally pick out the promises of God and to anchor your life on them. They are true and they are good. If we ever doubt God’s promises he calls us to look back to the pledge of his Son (2 Cor. 1:20; Rom. 8:31-39) and the down-payment of his Spirit (2 Cor. 1:22; Eph. 1:14). God loves us by promising us with countless blessings and assurances, and he loves us by always keeping those promises.

7. The Father’s Love in Disciplining

“For the Lord disciplines the one he loves.” (Heb. 12:6)

The Father loves us not despite discipline but through it. I know this point is a hard sell but the Bible connects the dots. God’s discipline is a calm but firm correction, never a fit of rage. He aims to teach us not reject or punish. The NT links discipline and love to help cement in our mind that they’re not irreconcilable enemies, but rather, they’re actually related (Heb. 12:3-11; Rev. 3:19). The fact that God corrects his children should encourage us just how much he cares and provide proof he will never give up on or leave us in our sin.

A beautiful scene in the TV show “Parenthood” depicts this idea. One of the families had adopted an abandoned young boy. Early on he misbehaves and continues acting out his bad habits. The mom thinks they should keep looking the other way but the dad reminds her they’re his parents now. He’s their child so they need to treat him like family, not like a guest or stranger. Since he’s now their boy and they want what’s best for him they make the tough choice to give correction and explain what he’s done wrong. As God’s children, we also need to remind ourselves that discipline isn’t the same as displeasure. In fact, it demonstrates God’s commitment to us. God treats us not as strangers or guests who he has no relationship with but as a father who deeply loves his sons and daughters.

Loving How We’ve Been Loved

When we don’t live in light of God’s love for us we’ll either shy away from Him out of fear or exhaust ourselves trying to win his approval. My hope is that as we let the truth of God’s love drip from our heads to our hearts we’ll be refreshed in security and rest. This is a game-changer when it comes to how we draw near to our God. It also transforms relationships and how we treat one another. As we experience the Father’s love in specific ways, we can give the type of love we’ve received.

There are a lot of great insights out there on parenting and marriage, but we cannot love children or spouses well unless the perfect love of the Father is a first-hand experience. In a culture desperate in its desire for “true love” and yet clueless in what that looks like, both single and married Christians can point others to a satisfying, unending love their souls are aching for. The application could be extended to the hard people in our lives or the unlovely in our families and neighborhoods, but in each case we can only love others well as we see them through the lens of how God has loved us: freely, undeservingly, and steadfastly.

—

Dustin Crowe has a bachelor’s degree in Historical Theology from the Moody Bible Institute and studied at the master’s level at Southern Seminary. He is Local Outreach Coordinator of College Park Church, a church of 4,000 in Indianapolis, where he also helps with theological development.

1. David Pao, Thanksgiving: An Investigation of a Pauline Theme (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 28-29.

I Am Barabbas

Year after year, as Christians walk through the Passion week with Jesus, our hearts are knit to him. He is our greatest hero, at the climax of his greatest feat. As we relive the story with him, we pull for him, and against his enemies. We feel varying levels of disdain for Judas who betrays him, Peter who denies him, the chief priests who despise him, Herod who mocks him, the people who call for his crucifixion, Pilate who appeases the mob and washes his hands, and Barabbas who is guilty but gets to go free.

But wait. Barabbas — the guilty who goes free? Barabbas — the sinner released to new life while the death he deserves is paid by an Innocent Substitute?

Take careful note of where Luke is leading us in his carefully crafted narrative.

Jesus, the Innocent

Three times in Luke 23:15–22, Pilate declares Jesus’ innocence.

• First, in verse 15, he says, “Look, nothing deserving death has been done by him.”
• Second, in verse 20, Luke tell us, “Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus…”
• Then, in verse 22, Luke says, “A third time [Pilate] said to them, ‘Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death.’”

Three times in this short span of eight verses, Luke, through Pilate, points us to Jesus’ innocence. Jesus has done nothing deserving death. Pilate cannot find in Jesus any guilt deserving death. Our hero is innocent.

And it’s not only in these eight verses. Throughout chapter 23, Luke seems at pains to draw our attention to Jesus’ innocence. We might even call it the major theme of his version of the story.

At the beginning of the chapter, in verse 4, Pilate had already said, “I find no guilt in this man.” Then verses 14–15 reflect back on what has already happened. Not only had Pilate previously declared Jesus innocent (verse 4), but also Herod had. So Pilate says in verses 14–15: “You brought me this man as one who was misleading the people. And after examining him before you, behold, I did not find this man guilty of any of your charges against him. Neither did Herod, for he sent him back to us.”

Then later in the chapter, the theme of Jesus’ innocence will be echoed again, by both the thief on the cross and by the centurion. The thief on the cross will say to the other thief in verse 41, “We are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And the centurion will say at Jesus’ death in verse 47: “Certainly this man was innocent!”

Why would Luke make so much of Jesus’ innocence? Why at least six clear declarations of Jesus’ innocence in this chapter? Why so carefully tell us that Pilate initially found no guilt in Jesus, then neither did Herod, then Pilate declared Jesus’ innocence three more times, and then not only the thief on the cross but also the centurion recognized this innocence? Luke is taking us somewhere.

Barabbas, the Guilty

Just after Pilate has said, “Look, nothing deserving death has been done by him,” Luke tells us in verses 18–19, “But they all cried out together, ‘Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas’—a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder.”

It is Barabbas who is the guilty, says Luke, “a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder.” Barabbas is the same man called “a notorious prisoner” in Matthew 27:16, and Mark 15:7 tells us that Barabbas was “among the rebels in prison, who had committed murder in the insurrection.”

Murder and rebellion. Rebellion is the precise thing the leaders and the people are charging Jesus with when they say he is “misleading the people” (verse 14) and “saying that he himself is Christ, a king” (verse 2). And murder is an offense that makes it clear that Barabbas not only deserves to be in prison, but he deserves death. Genesis 9:6 taught, “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image.” Barabbas is no mere offender in rehab, but a murderer on Death Row.

Luke then reiterates for us Barabbas’s guilt in verse 25. Notice the restatement of Barabbas’s guilt when he says, “[Pilate] released the man who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder . . . .” In other words, remember Barabbas’s sin. He’s guilty as charged.

One way we could summarize Barabbas’s plight would be to say that he is guilty of rebellion deserving death. In contrast with Jesus, who Pilate says in verse 22 has “no guilt deserving death,” Barabbas is the guilty who deserves to die.

A Horrific and Holy Substitution

Not only is Jesus the innocent, but Barabbas is the guilty. Jesus is innocent and has done nothing deserving death. Barabbas is the rebel prisoner, carrying with him guilt deserving death.

But here’s where Luke means for us to not only identify with Jesus, our Savior, but also to identify in some sense with Barabbas who so embodies our plight as rebels deserving death and our need for saving. Verse 25: “[Pilate] released the man who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, for whom they asked, but he delivered Jesus over to their will.”

Jesus the innocent is delivered over to the punishment of death; while the guilty, deserving of death, is released and thus given new life.

Note Luke’s emphasis in the word “release” that appears five times in the story:

• In verse 16, Pilate first declares that he intends to release Jesus.
• But in verse 17, the people respond, “Away with [Jesus], and release to us Barabbas.”
• Then in verse 20, Pilate again expresses his intention to release Jesus.
• Then a third time, in verse 22, Pilate says he plans to release Jesus.
• But finally in verse 25, Luke tells us that Pilate “released the man who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, for whom they asked, but he delivered Jesus over to their will.”

And so the people are pleased to exchange Jesus, the innocent, for Barabbas, the guilty.

The First Substitution of the Cross

As we’ve seen through the stressing of Jesus’ innocence and Barabbas’s guilt, Luke is leading us sinners, in his careful telling of the story, to identify in this significant way with Barabbas. As Jesus’ condemnation leads to the release of a multitude of spiritual captives from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation, so also his death sentence leads to the release of the physical captive Barabbas. It’s a foretaste of the grace that will be unleashed at the cross.

Jesus is manifestly innocent. Barabbas is clearly guilty—just as we also are clearly guilty before God. Rebels deserving death. Romans 3:23 says it’s not a few of us, or even many of us, but all of us who “have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” And Romans 6:23 tells us that “the wages of sin is death.”

So as Pilate releases Barabbas the guilty, and delivers over to death Jesus the innocent, we have here a picture of our own release effected by the cross through faith. In Barabbas we have a glimpse of our guilt deserving death, and a preview of the arresting grace of Jesus and his embrace of the cross through which we are set free.

Here as Jesus is delivered to death, and Barabbas is released to new life, we have the first substitution of the cross. The innocent Jesus is condemned as a sinner, while the guilty sinner is released as if innocent.

I Am Barabbas

So Luke, it appears, means for us to identify both with Jesus and Barabbas. Jesus in that by identifying with him, through being united with him by faith, his death is our death. His condemning of sin is our condemning of sin. And Barabbas in that we are sinners, criminals who have broken God’s law, guilty as charged, deserving death for our rebellion against our creator and the ruler of the universe. And Jesus, through the grace of giving himself for us at the cross, takes our place and we are released.

As we more greatly understand the depths of our sin, we see with Luke, “I am Barabbas.” I am the one so clearly guilty and deserving of condemnation but set free because of the willing substitution of the Son of God in my place. “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick,” Jesus says in Mark 2:17. “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

—

David Mathis (@davidcmathis) is executive editor for desiringGod.org, pastor at Cities Church in Minneapolis/Saint Paul, and adjunct professor for Bethlehem College & Seminary. He has edited several books, including Finish the Mission, Acting the Miracle, and most recently Cross, and is co-author of How to Stay Christian in Seminary.

Originally posted at DesiringGod.org. Used with permission.

The Painstaking Way Jesus Empowers New Life

NEW MISSION: MAKE DISCIPLES

Matthew 28:18-20 is what Christians call the Great Commission, the dominant marching orders for all who have faith in resurrection. It can sound a bit militant: Take God’s authority and make disciples.” But remember, these orders are from the one who has laid down his life to save his enemies. Ironically, our orders are to invite through imitation. Our mission is to make disciples through our words and actions. Or, as Jesus said, “teach and obey.” In fact, it is when we experience the riches of renewal through Christ that we become, as Eugene Peterson says, “God’s advertisement to the world.”1 We make disciples by living resurrected lives and telling people about the resurrected Christ.

“There’s not a hint of coercion here. It’s a life of love. Jesus wants us to spread the gospel throughout the world by spending our lives for the sake of others. The power of the resurrection doesn’t end with us; it travels through us. Our commission is invitation. We invite others to join God’s redemptive agenda to restore human flourishing and remake the world. We are sent into the world to share the good news that Jesus has defeated sin, death, and evil through his own death and resurrection. Jesus is making all things new, and he calls his followers to participate in his work of renewal.

Distinctive Discipleship

Part of what makes this command such a “great” mission is its scope—all nations. When Jesus spoke these words, he was reorienting a primarily Jewish audience to a distinctly multiethnic mission. The Greek word used here is the same word that gives us the English word “ethnic.” It refers to the nations, not modernist geopolitical states, but non-Jewish people groups (Gentiles) with distinct cultures and languages. Our commission is not to Christianize nation-states, but to share the good news of what Jesus has done with all ethnic groups. Christ does not advocate what is commonly called Christendom, a top-down political Christianity. Instead, he calls his followers to transmit a bottom-up, indigenous Christianity, to all peoples in all cultures.

We should also note that this command is to make disciples of all nations, not from all nations. The goal of Christian missions is not to replace the rich diversity of human culture for a cheap consumer, Christian knock-off culture. Dr. Andrew Walls puts it well:

Conversion to Christ does not produce a bland universal citizenship: it produces distinctive discipleship, as diverse and variegated as human life itself. Christ in redeeming humanity brings, by the process of discipleship, all the richness of humanity’s infinitude of cultures and subcultures into the variegated splendor of the Full Grown Humanity to which the apostolic literature points (Eph 4.8 – 13).²

What we should strive for is distinctive discipleship, discipleship that uniquely expresses personal faith in our cultural context. Disciples in urban Manhattan will look different than disciples in rural Maehongson. These differences allow for a flourishing of the gospel that contributes to the many-splendored new humanity of Christ. Simply put, the message of Jesus is for the flourishing of all humanity in all cultures.

Jesus informs our resurrected life. He gives us a new and gracious authority, a new identity, and a new mission. With that in view, what does it look like to participate in this task of renewing the world? Where do we begin? Jesus has painted for us a great picture of the new life. Let’s turn now to the daily implications of resurrection life.

IMPLICATIONS: RISKING FOR HUMANITY

If Jesus did, indeed, rise from the dead, we have nothing to fear and everything we need. All that we strive for is fulfilled in Jesus. All that we seek to avoid has been resolved by him. For example, if Jesus rose from the dead, we no longer need to strive for acceptance because we are now accepted by him. If Jesus rose from the dead, we don’t need to fear death, because it has been defeated. This means that we are free to smuggle medical supplies into Burma, even at the risk of death, knowing that our eternal fate is already sealed. We can move to distant countries to invest in development and renewal because Christ did the same for the world. Like the early Christians, we can care for the poor and marginalized in our cities. If we have resurrection life, we will have courage to take risks in the name of love. . . .

This is the power of the resurrected life. Serving others is a sacrifice, yes. But that sacrifice is filled with joy. You won’t be able to imagine living any other way.

Why?

Jesus tells those who follow him to leave all they have behind, to give their lives to the poor, to love their enemies, and to be a blessing to the world. Let’s not pretend this is easy to do. Following Jesus will require your whole life. Not just part of it. Not just your leisure time. Not just some of your budget. No, it requires your whole life. It will feel like death and suffering at times. It will feel that way because you are laying your life down. That’s what the resurrection looks like in daily life. We do not hold anything back—our talents, possessions, or time—because we live with the certainty that death and sin have been defeated.

There is no sugarcoating it. You will lose your life. In its place you will find a vibrant, full, and eternal life. By dying to ourselves we become alive to the power of Christ through the Holy Spirit. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead empowers us to live a life for Jesus. His death and resurrection have become our death and resurrection. Our old life is gone, and we now experience a new authority, identity, and mission. This is why we give, celebrate, and serve: we have died and have been raised again to experience new and abundant life.

—

Jonathan K. Dodson (MDiv; ThM) serves as a pastor of City Life Church in Austin, Texas. He is the author of Gospel-Centered Discipleship, Unbelievable Gospel, and Raised? He has discipled men and women abroad and at home for almost two decades, taking great delight in communicating the gospel and seeing Christ formed in others. Twitter: @Jonathan_Dodson

Brad Watson serves as a pastor of Bread & Wine Communities in Portland, Oregon. He is a board member of GCDiscipleship.com and co-author of Raised? His greatest passion is to encourage and equip leaders for the mission of making disciples. Twitter: @BradAWatson

(Editor’s Note: This is an excerpt from Raised? by Jonathan Dodson and Brad Watson available from Zondervan. It appears here with the permission of the author and publisher. For free resources and preorders, visit raisedbook.com.)

^{1. Eugene Peterson, Practice Resurrection (Grand Rapids: Eerd- mans, 2010), 13 – 14.↩ 2. Andrew Walls, The Missionary Movement in Christian History (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1996), 51.↩}

Why the Meaninglessness of Life?

Have you ever been struck by that feeling of pure meaninglessness? That deep down feeling in your heart of meaninglessness. Perhaps it occurs when you are at work or when you are alone. Does it happen occasionally or constantly? Some may not have any idea what I’m talking about. That’s ok. I must admit I have experienced this meaninglessness a number of times throughout my life. It’s never been fun, but honestly this meaninglessness has taught me something that is extremely important.

A Universal Issue

Scientist and atheist Richard Dawkins says,

“In a universe of electrons and selfish genes, blind physical forces and genetic replication, some people are going to get hurt, other people are going to get lucky, and you won't find any rhyme or reason in it, nor any justice. The universe that we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but pitiless indifference.”

From continent to continent, meaninglessness seems to reign supreme. At first glance, it might not be easy to recognize because we tend to mask meaninglessness with busyness or pleasure. But it is there. We toil and strive to find meaning in this cold, dark universe every day of our lives, and if we are honest with ourselves we rarely find meaning. Sure, there are times when we might experience pure bliss and euphoric sensations, but that existential angst is still lives.

The Void

We all experience meaninglessness—a hole within our soul. This is what encountering the void is like. The void within our souls has been a part of the human condition ever since the Fall of Adam and Eve in the garden (Gen. 3). This deep chasm of meaninglessness that we all find within ourselves searches constantly to be filled. This is why our search can sometimes seem like it’s complete. We temporarily fill the void with a number of earthly goods (relationships, sports, alcohol, work, drugs, etc). We may feel like there is no void within ourselves when we are intoxicated by earthly pleasures. Nevertheless, as time passes, the void will make itself more known. It is inevitable. You cannot escape it.

The Absurd

Albert Camus, philosopher and journalist, says, “Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.” The reason he could make such a statement is because he was willing to admit the absurdity of life. You might not know, but it was some of Camus’ views that contributed to the formation of a philosophical position that came to be known as absurdism.

The absurd is all about a conflict. The conflict is between (1) the human tendency to seek inherent value and meaning in life and (2) the human ability to find any.1 Isn’t that our struggle today? Don’t we wake up and face this absurd reality every day? So what is the solution to man’s perennial problem?

The Solution

C.S. Lewis once said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” Perhaps this thought is just simply too good to be true. But just maybe, Lewis was right. I have never heard a Darwinian explanation that accounts for man’s constant search for meaning. How can unguided Darwinian naturalism account for our innate subjective desire to find meaning in life? How can Darwinism account for the desire that human beings deal with every day as we driven to find our place in this world?

This is where C.S. Lewis provides a solution to this problem facing humanity. When faced with the reality of living in a meaningless universe, experiencing the void daily, and facing the absurd constantly, man seeks meaning with something outside of oneself. Something to fully satisfy. Something that will make man feel alive.

The Answer

Perhaps you think that Christians are just wishful thinkers. Intellectually inferior people who must believe in some personal deity who cares for them because they can’t handle meaninglessness of life. Perhaps this really is the way world is. But maybe it isn’t. Maybe the one called Jesus was who he said was (Jn. 14:6). What if he did descend from his heavenly kingdom to redeem humanity (Jn. 6:38)? If he is who he claimed to be, it changes everything. It changes the way we view the universe, the void, and the absurdity of life.

Of course, I am not naive. If you come and drink from the living well, it doesn’t mean you will never struggle against meaningless in life (Jn. 4:14). I am a Christian pastor and I struggle with this almost daily. Even the most faithful Christians have struggled in this life. There’s little doubt that you would too. The ramifications of sin stretch deep and wide.

But Jesus is the answer to the absurdity of life. Why then do I feel like he’s not so often? Perhaps this is because my lack of faith. However, we must boldly and daily approach God and confess, “I believe; help my unbelief” (Mk. 9:24). We must cling to the gospel during our darkest days. We must remember the promises of God. Maybe one day in the new Heavens and the new Earth we will all understand why we had to struggle. Until then, the struggle is real, and the feeling of meaninglessness still lives. Keep holding on, friends. You are not alone in this battle. We struggle together in Christ.

—

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

The Incredible Way Jesus Suffered in Selma

I saw the movie Selma with my wife in January. I was wrecked. I do not cry often, especially not in films, but along with the stories of the martyrs, the history of the struggle against slavery, Jim Crow, and segregation move on my heart. I wept as I have not wept in years. The kind of tears that wrench your gut and stick in your throat for hours. As I went home that evening, just thinking of the various injustices and degradations depicted threaten to bring on another torrent. I was exhausted with the grief and, yes, the heaviness of hope. I am no film critic, but the film was powerful. I strongly suggest you go watch it. It is not just Black history, or American history, but our history, as Christians and humans made in the image of God. The depth of human depravity, the height of human courage, and the slow, but inevitable coming of justice—however partial, however incomplete–is a story that will not sit easy, but builds you and blesses you nonetheless.

While I could profitably take up many spiritual and theological themes, I want to talk about Jesus and Selma. Or rather, I want to ask a specific question about what our Christology, our view of Jesus, has to do with our view of what happened in Selma and what happens in the suffering of God’s people around the world. Admittedly, this is not the only question, and maybe not even the most important Christological question raised by the film, and yet I want to briefly address it nonetheless, because I think there is comfort and challenge involved here.

Does God Cry?

In the middle of the film, when Martin Luther King Jr. is out of town, a small band of Selma protesters engage in a night march. The police get wind of it and decide to teach them a lesson by ambushing them with a wave of brutality and violence. In the middle of it all, one young protestor, Jimmie Lee Jackson, is shot and killed protecting his mother and grandfather. It is wrenching and heartbreaking. When he hears the news, King comes to visit Jackson’s grandfather and speak some words of comfort. King addresses him and assures him that Jimmie will not have died in vain, but the very first words he says, are something to the effect of, “I want you to know that when Jimmie died, God was the first to cry. He was the first to shed a tear.”

It is a powerful moment, especially as you watch Jimmie’s grandfather look at King with an expression of humility, comfort, and deep pain and say, “Oh yes, I believe that. I know that.” The words are so appropriately-timed and attuned to speak a message that provides balm for the soul. God knows your pain. He is not distant from your cares and woes. They are his cares and woes. Your tears do not fall to the ground alone but join with those shed from heaven above, by the God of all creation.

Of course, the question that struck me in the theater was, “Is that true? Does God shed a tear for Jimmie?”

A God Who Cannot Suffer Becomes A Redeemer Who Can

I asked the question because, as Wesley Hill recently reminded us, for most of her history the church has taught the doctrine of impassibility. The nearly unified confession of church history until about the 20th Century was that, strictly speaking, God does not and cannot in suffer passions—be overwhelmed by irrational or uncontrollable feelings—or be acted upon in his divine nature. The Triune God is the author of life whose own glory is that of perfect, unchanging glory. He is incapable of being overwhelmed or overcome in his divine life. So does God cry? Well, in a sense, no. God is spiritual, not physical. In himself he cannot be overwhelmed as we are, have an adrenaline rush with a flush of the face, a flaring of the nostrils, or an unbidden moistening of the tear-ducts. God does not cry.

At the same time, though, as Ben Myers reminded the attendees of last week’s LA Theology conference, for the Church Fathers the presupposition of impassibility is precisely the logic behind the cross. As I’ve explained before, God’s impassibility does not mean that he does not care, or that he has no emotional life—he does. It’s just that we should not think of it precisely as we do our own. In fact, this is the glory of the God of the gospel—we find a God who cares so much that the one who cannot suffer and die in his own nature, takes on human nature in order to suffer and die with us and for us. The impassible God loves so implacably that he overcomes the obstacle of his own perfect life in order to participate in our life, so marred with pain and sin, to redeem us from it. In other words, the God who could not suffer, became a Redeemer who could.

Jesus is the God who became human so he could shed tears with us at the tomb of Lazarus.

Eternal Mediator

What now, though? The Scriptures teach that this God-man is the one who, after his Resurrection, was exalted to the right hand of the Father in order to intercede for us even now. According to Hebrews, like Melchizedek, Christ “continues a priest forever” (Heb. 7:3). The Son of God, the second person of the Trinity is currently a human seated on the throne of the universe. If it is not too speculative, I would hazard the courage to say that Jesus is the God who can still shed human tears for his people in this world racked with sin and injustice.

I say this on the basis of Acts 9, when the Resurrected Christ comes to Saul, the marauder of the church and says, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” The Risen Christ so identifies with his people that any assault on them is an assault on him. Their suffering is his. Their tears are his. As Calvin writes about this passage:

[T]he godly may gather great comfort by this, in that they hear that the Son of God is partner with them of the cross, when as they suffer and labor for the testimony of the gospel, and that he doth, as it were, put under his shoulders, that he may bear some part of the burden. For it is not for nothing that he saith that he suffereth in our person; but he will have us to be assuredly persuaded of this, that he suffereth together with us, as if the enemies of the gospel should wound us through his side. Wherefore Paul saith, that that is wanting in the sufferings of Christ what persecutions soever the faithful suffer at this day for the defense of the gospel, (Colossians 1:24.) –Comment on Acts 9:4

Though impassible in his own nature, in Christ, God suffers in and with his people. Jesus is the God who cries for Jimmie Lee Jackson.

These tears comfort those suffering under grave oppression around the world. Whether it be the marchers in Selma, laboring for the justice of God’s kingdom, or the persecuted church around the world, God’s joy and impassible life does not mean he is separated from our pain and struggle. He is there in the heart of it, working to redeem it.

Yet the Gospel moves us beyond the tears of Christ to remind us that by his once and for all suffering on the Cross and victorious Resurrection, Christ has secured the day when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:4)

May we look forward to that day as we look about our world filled with injustice and pain. May that hope gird us up as we shed the tears that will inevitably come as we follow Christ in looking the brokenness of the world, in order to meet it with the gospel of our justice-loving God.

—

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

Original posted at DerekZRishmawy.com. Used with permission.

Why You Should Care for Creation Now

Gnosticism was at the heart of much of the New Testament writers’ objections. At its root, Gnosticism argued that the material world was bad, and the spiritual world, or realm, was good. The majority of Gnostics, then, practiced a mix of asceticism and even philanthropy as they tried to divest themselves of material goods in an attempt to pursue knowledge through the spiritual world. The New Testament writers wrote in detail about the danger of Gnosticism, and we consistently affirm their objections, but when it comes to the underlying theology in Gnostic thought, I wonder if the church isn’t guilty of embracing its premise? Since I was a small child, I have been taught that our time here on earth was limited. All of history points to the return of Jesus Christ when he would call his children home to his eternal kingdom. Earth, then, is a temporary holding place—a place for us to live in such a way so we honor God, but a temporary home, none-the-less. Popular songs have been written for decades now celebrating this truth. The chorus of the old Southern Gospel song, “The Old Gospel Ship” seems to embrace that philosophy.

I'm a gonna take a trip In the good old gospel ship I'm goin' far beyond the sky I'm a gonna shout and sing Until all the Heavens ring When I bid this old world goodbye

I’m not trying to pick on musicians, but the church has been celebrating both the badness of this world and the goodness of some other, better, world for a long time now. We like the spiritual world off in the distance, and we diminish, or even discredit, this world—this physical world. Fundamentally, though, when I look at scripture I see a couple of things pointing to this being a thoroughly Gnostic—and thoroughly non-Christian—approach.

This World Is Not Our Home?

First, any theology viewing this world as bad and abandoned by God, conflicts with Scripture’s testimony that the world was created before the existence of sin. God declared of his created world, “It is good.” The created world is God’s good plan intended for our good and his glory. When we dismiss this world as temporary, we do violence to the biblical text. Scripture teaches God’s plan involved this good creation from the beginning.

Secondly, viewing the world as inherently bad and soon to be destroyed or abandoned is to ignore Romans 8 and its thoughts about God’s future plans for his creation.

For the creation eagerly waits with anticipation for God’s sons to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to futility—not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it—in the hope that the creation itself will also be set free from the bondage of corruption into the glorious freedom of God’s children. —Romans 8:19-21

Note creation itself is groaning for Christ’s return because it will be set free into the same kind of freedom that God’s children will experience. The point of the text is God moves toward the resurrection/restoration of his creation, in the same way he moves towards the resurrection/restoration of his children. When we treat this world as if it’s temporary we treat it in a way God himself doesn’t treat it.

I hear one primary objection to this. Some might say scripture indicates God will “burn up” the earth, as some translations describe it (see 2 Peter 3:10). However, seeing this text in context, we understand this burning not as destructive, but cleansing. 2 Peter 3:6 tells us this burning was foreshadowed in the flood of Noah, so indicates God’s use of fire to purify his creation—ultimately leading to its resurrection/restoration.

In light of all this, what are we to make of it, and why does it matter?

The Welfare of Our World

First, in light of God’s work to restore this world, we would do well to treat it as if it’s not just our temporary home. God is working to resurrect not only his people, but all of his created order. Secret agents that sneak into a country, accomplish their mission, and then get snatched up by a black helicopter to take them home makes for a great action movie, but for a bad gospel story. Let’s embrace the world around us as part of God’s good plan for his people.

Second, our behavior in this world, in this life, should model and foreshadow God’s work of ultimate resurrection/restoration. As current residents of the kingdom of God, whose allegiance lies with King Jesus, we are called to live now as we will live then—when his kingdom has been fully culminated. We are called to work in such a way so we model his work of restoration. This is why, for instance, creation care is a deeply biblical concept.

Finally, let’s be cautious of embracing any theology that encourages us to escape the world, rather than embrace it, love it, and work to see God’s order restored in and among it. As God reminded the Jewish exiles in Babylon in Jeremiah 29, our call is seek the good of our culture, not to isolate ourselves from it, or try to escape what’s around us. Instead, let’s recognize God has placed us here, in this place and at this time, to declare and display his gospel, working to bring his blessing—his shalom—to the places we call home, modeling in this time and place the ultimate restoration he will fully bring about in the day of his return.

—

Micah Fries is the Vice President of LifeWay Research. He has served as a Senior Pastor in Missouri and a missionary in West Africa, prior to coming to LifeWay. Connect with Micah on Twitter.

How Christians Should Mortify Sin

Hostile To God

Romans 8: 7 is simple and stark: “The sinful mind is hostile to God .” The mind is not neutral ground, and cannot love one preoccupation without rejecting the other. A mind “that is set on the flesh” (ESV translation) must also be treating God and the desires of his Spirit as an enemy. This is why our minds are, naturally, unable to deal with sin. We may realize that a particular impulse is unhelpful, or that a certain course of action is destructive. We may even decide to cut it out, and may do so successfully. But the root of sin is still implanted in the mind— hostility to God. So sin will still grow unchecked in our lives.

And that hostility makes us incapable of pleasing God. Verse 8 is an equally striking statement : “Those controlled by the sinful nature cannot please God.” Left to ourselves, we are totally unable to live in a way that causes our Creator to approve of us. Why? Because the mind that drives the actions is acting out of hostility to him. The person controlled by their own flesh is able to have a thought that is good, or perform an action that is right. But it cannot please God, since it is thought or done in enmity toward him.

Here is a helpful illustration: a man in a rebel army may look after his comrades, may keep his uniform smart, and so on. Those are “good”— but they are done in hostility to the rightful ruler. You would never expect that ruler to hear of this rebel’s conscientiousness or generosity and be pleased by his conduct in rebellion!

But none of this needs to be, or ought to be, the way “you”— Christians— live (v 9). Every Christian is “controlled not by the sinful nature but by the Spirit,” since the Spirit lives in anyone who belongs to Christ. When we received Christ and became righteous in God’s sight, the Holy Spirit came in and made us spiritually alive. The Christian has a body that is decaying (v 10), yet also enjoys a spirit, a mind, that is alive.

And, Paul says, not only must our spirits/ minds not follow our flesh now, but one day our flesh will follow our spirit. In Greek thought, the physical was bad, to be rejected and hopefully one day to be left behind; the spiritual was good, to be embraced. Verse 11 overturns all this: ”He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you.” Someday, even our bodies will be totally renewed and made eternally alive by the Spirit. There is no dualism (body bad, spirit good) here— one day, both will be perfected.

For now, though, there is still within us the remaining sinful nature, which is hostile and inimical to our growing spiritual life. And even as we look forward to our bodies being given life (v 11), we must “put to death the misdeeds of the body” (v 13—the end of this verse is best seen as the end of a sentence, unlike in the NIV). As John Stott argues, Paul is still likely referring to an experience of life, and death, now— not in the future. Paul says here: If you let the remaining sinful nature alone— if you allow it to prosper and grow— there will be terrible trouble. Instead, you must by the Spirit attack and put it to death. The more you put to death the sinful nature, the more you will enjoy the spiritual life that the Holy Spirit gives— life and peace (v 6).

Mortification

This process of “putting to death” is what earlier theologians used to call “mortification.” They got it from the old King James Version translation of the verse: “If ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live” (v 13).

So what do verses 12-13 tell us about what mortification is, and how we do it? First, it means a ruthless , full-hearted resistance to sinful practice. The very word translated as “put to death” (Greek word thanatoute) is violent and total. It means to reject totally everything we know to be wrong; to declare war on attitudes and behaviors that are wrong— give them no quarter, take no prisoners, pull out all the stops.

This means a Christian doesn’t play games with sin. You don’t aim to wean yourself off it, or say: I can keep it under control. You get as far away from it as possible. You don’t just avoid things you know are sin; you avoid the things that lead to it, and even things that are doubtful. This is war!

Second, it means changing one’s motivation to sin by remembering to apply the gospel . This process of “mortification” goes deeper than merely resisting sinful behavior. It looks at the motives of the heart. Verse 12 says: “Therefore, brothers, we have an obligation— but it is not to the sinful nature.” This is a critical statement. “Therefore” refers to the statement before, in which Paul tells us we have been redeemed by Christ’s righteousness and will someday be totally delivered from all evil and pain in the bodily resurrection. Then Paul turns and says: “Therefore ... we have an obligation…” Some translations express it differently: “We are debtors, not to the flesh” (NRSV). Paul means that if we remember what Christ has done and will do for us, we will feel the obligations of love and gratitude to serve and know him.

Paul is saying that sin can only be cut off at the root if we expose ourselves constantly to the unimaginable love of Christ for us. That exposure stimulates a wave of gratitude and a feeling of indebtedness. Sin can only grow in the soil of self-pity and a feeling of “owed-ness.” I’m not getting a fair shake! I’m not getting my needs met! I’ve had a hard life! God owes me; people owe me; I owe me! That’s the heart attitude of “owed-ness” or entitlement. But, Paul says, you must remind yourself that you are a debtor. If you bathe yourself in the remembrance of the grace of God, that will loosen, weaken and kill sin at the motivational level.

Therefore, “put to death” (v 13) is just a sub-set under “mind the things of the Spirit” (v 5). Mortification withers sin’s power over you by focusing on Christ’s redemption in a way that softens your heart with gratitude and love; which brings you to hate the sin for itself, so it loses its power of attraction over you. In summary, then, we kill sin in the Spirit when we turn from sinful practices ruthlessly and turn our heart from sinful motivations with a sense of our debt to love and grace, by minding the things of the Spirit.

—

Tim Keller is senior pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Manhattan, New York, and author of numerous books. He is also co-founder and vice president of The Gospel Coalition. For more resources by Tim Keller visit Gospel in Life. You can follow him on Twitter.

Timothy Keller, Romans 8-16 For You, The Good Book Company ©2015. Used by permission. http://www.thegoodbook.com/

Reflect Christ, Deflect Satan

Paul’s story is well documented. He was a killer of Christians and an adamant opponent of their faith (Acts 8:1-3). Later, as a man saved by God’s grace, he constantly urged believers to turn away from their old lives and to press into their new natures in Christ, just as he did. He didn’t harp on rules and regulations, but rather exhorted them to look to Christ for their reason for living. And as a hate-monger transformed into a humble servant, Paul knew the benefit of receiving and offering Christ’s compassion. Few passages in the New Testament describe the character of Christ as a weapon against Satan’s work as clearly as Ephesians 4:25-32. In this passage, Paul makes a very clear assertion to believers: Christians are freed through the sacrifice of Christ, by the power of the Spirit, to reflect him and deflect Satan.

Speak Truth (v. 25)

Paul states, “Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another.” In short, he is telling his audience to be honest with one another. He does not issue this warning against lying in order to be seen as righteous to outsiders or to prevent themselves from consequences later on; rather, Paul says that Christians should speak the truth because they are one body.

The word for “members” in the Greek, mele, literally means “a bodily organ or limb,” giving the metaphor that Christians are plainly, not just figuratively, connected as flesh and bone members of a body. It is indispensable for believers to understand that, in a sense, they should treat each other how they themselves want to be treated. If a believer lies to a brother, he is simply sinning against every other Christian and, essentially, himself. Paul carries this thought from verse 24 in which he tells believers to “put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” Although Christians will always struggle with Satan’s temptation to speak falsely until the moment of death, they become new creations in Christ with the ability to walk in a manner that reflects the likeness of God himself.

Control Anger (vv. 26-27)

The passage continues, expanding on the statements made in previous verses, saying, “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil.” These two verses combine to explain that such characteristics belong to the devil and not to God. Anger in and of itself is not a sin when exercised appropriately. Even Christ, who did not sin (2 Cor. 5:21; Heb. 4:15), was angry (without sinning) as he rebuked the “money-changers” in the temple (Matt. 21:12-13). When Christians act in such a way that they are representing Satan’s lies and not Christ’s model, they are in danger of, or already participating in, sin. Francis Foulkes clarifies, “The Christian must be sure that his anger is that of righteous indignation, and not just an expression of personal provocation or wounded pride. It must have no sinful motives, nor be allowed to lead to sin in any way.”

Christians are a new creation with a new attitude and a new power to overcome the traps of Satan. Given the opportunity to hold a grudge, the Christian must turn away from their anger and forgive immediately. If “the sun goes down” on a person’s anger, it will continually eat them alive, just as Satan has planned. Satan is a powerful trickster, looking for and providing any avenue for a person to give into temptation and give him a place to work. The gospel affords the opportunity to escape such traps.

Be Generous (v. 28)

For the Christian, there is a new outlook on the idea of giving and receiving: “Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need.” Once given this new life in Christ, a person is called to view their possessions differently. Once a thief himself, the new believer must now work honestly for their income and turn it into a gift.

One only needs to look at the life and ministry of Jesus to see that servanthood is the paramount trait of a holy person. Christ was and is God who stepped into human history and lived a perfect, sinless life. As an eternal king, he had no true reason to be humble or to serve anyone, but he did. He gave all of himself in order that Christians might have a life more than they ever imagined (Jn. 10:10-11). Though Satan makes selfishness appealing, the humble character of Christ cannot be overlooked by anyone seeking to model themselves after him. Dishonest gain may often be the easy route to travel, but believers are commissioned to take the road less traveled.

Show Grace (v. 29)

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” Here, believers are told not to speak in such a way that someone will be hurt or pushed away by their words. Satan will use biting words to attempt to destroy not only the body of Christ, but relationships they have with outsiders.

Society often judges Christians based upon their actions. The world is not merely looking for a show, but an authentic lifestyle that promotes goodness. While it is rather easy for the Christian to settle into moralistic behavior modification in order to attempt at pleasing Christ and appearing righteous to those around him, the new man cannot stop there; he must act in sincere concern for those looking to him for answers on Christ.

Any person can modify behavior, but a true disciple of Christ lives with a transformed heart that sees other human beings as lost souls in need of Christ’s redemption. Satan will try to distract believers from the Great Commission, but this must be fought against. There is no escaping the call to love others as Christ does.

Do Not Grieve the Spirit (v. 30)

Paul advises Christians: “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.” This is a simple caution with huge implications. When sinning, one must remember that their sin is not only damaging to others; it’s an affront to God.

The Holy Spirit is God, the third person of the Trinity. The Holy Spirit may sometimes be under appreciated and overlooked by many Christians, but the he is the actual person of God dwelling within the Christian. As the Holy Spirit dwells in the believer, he is rightly and justly saddened and angered by the direct disregard for his holy standard. When the Christian sins, it is not to be forgotten that the holy and righteous God of the universe takes full notice. God is not a distant being, floating in the outskirts of creation; God is an active and living being dwelling in and standing beside each person every day of their existence with full knowledge of their transgressions against him. John Calvin once exhorted Christians to “endeavor that the Holy Spirit may dwell cheerfully within you, as in a pleasant and joyful dwelling, and give him no occasion for grief.”

Christians should give thanks for the seal of redemption (Eph. 1:13-14) given to them by God through Christ on the Roman cross. It is in him and him alone that the old man dies and the new man is raised to new life. This new life holds the promise of eternal liberation, while Satan only offers bondage and destruction.

Attitude Matters (v. 31)

Paul collects all wrong attitudes together in one verse, telling his audience to “let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.” Though surely a problem in the church that Paul is writing to, any and all Christians can attest to struggling with these very things. As a Christian, this desire does not simply disappear on the day of new life. There is still constant battle within the soul of a Christian to do what is right and holy when Satan’s temptation seems to be the correct—or at least easier— way to handle the negative situation.

The simple response for the Christian is to ignore a person who wrongs them by “turning the other cheek.” This is true and virtuous. However, with the power of the Holy Spirit within the believer, there is far more power over sin than merely walking away or pretending that an offense didn’t occur. A new creation in Christ has every resource imaginable to actively pursue radical forgiveness and grace. The act of loving an enemy is far and above the call of mere forgiveness. After all, even a non-believer with no supernatural power at all can turn away from a person who insults, attacks, or demeans them. God promises something better; he promises “a way of escape” for believers (1 Cor. 10:13).

Be Kind and Forgiving (v. 32)

Paul concludes the passage with this statement: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” Believers are called to such a lifestyle because they are new creations with a new heart, first forgiven by God so that they may show grace to the world. The selfish Christian is a contradiction; no one set free from sin can simultaneously be a captive to it. Paul is entirely clear in verse 24 that there is no such thing as a Christian that lives as he once did.

A major facet of the gospel is that having the inclination to continue sinning does not grant a person the excuse to maintain the same pattern of living. In describing a new creation in Christ, Paul uses the adjectives “kind,” “tenderhearted,” and “forgiving.” These are not natural dispositions of the natural human being; these are supernatural reactions to the broken mess of creation.

Saved For a Purpose

Paul says in Romans 5:14 that Christianity is foundationally void and useless if Christ did not resurrect from the dead after his crucifixion. For the Christian, this has massive connotations. If Christ did not rise, he did not conquer death and in turn conquered death on behalf of anyone else. If Christ was not raised, his forgiveness would mean absolutely nothing. Believers cannot understate the grace that must be shown to others in response to the magnificent and unbelievable power exemplified in Jesus Christ. The final words of a risen Savior are not comforting promises of eternity, but an insistence on being light in the midst of darkness (Matt. 28:18-20).

God’s will is not aimed entirely at the Christian going to Heaven, but rather for his people to represent him well and live according to his immutable standard in the here and now. The gospel frees us from our own interests. Christians have an obligation to love God and love others well precisely because of the cross.

The character of Christ, this gospel-infused sword we wield, is at the forefront of the Christian witness to a lost world. And Satan cannot deflect its blows. As Jesus proclaims, not even the Gates of Hell can stop his Church (Matt. 16:18).

—

Brandon D. Smith serves in leadership and as an adjunct instructor in theology and church history at Criswell College, where he is also associate editor of the Criswell Theological Review. He recently edited the book Make, Mature, Multiply and is a contributor to Designed for Joy (forthcoming from Crossway, 2015). Follow him on Twitter.

Jesus is Better Than Kingdom Building

One of my favorite quotes comes from Count Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf, who was a catalyst for the 100-year long Moravian prayer movement. It’s reported he said, “Preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten.” However, that’s only half true. I mean, I want it to be one of my favorite quotes, at least the principle behind it: embracing the obscurity of my vocation—which in my case, is pastoral ministry—and being content with my name not being recognized, except by the people I shepherd. What if I never write a book or even another article? What if I never get to speak at a conference or have the type of “ministry success” that seminary students only dream of? I come back repeatedly to these questions as I continue to battle this one nagging temptation: I want my name to be great.

Feeding the Monster

As a seminary student, the battle is often subtle. However, between the several thousand pages of reading and the many writing assignments, not to mention conversations with those clearly more brilliant, reflective, and academically gifted than myself, there’s a dullness that builds, a frustration if you will. Instead of seeking to celebrate how these fellow brothers and sisters of mine are truly gifts to God’s church, I find a discontented soul.

I find myself asking God, “Why do they have that much influence? Why can’t I do things like that? After all, I’m more educated than they are and more thoughtful than they are.” However, the opposite is true as well, which can be even more paralyzing: “Why am I not as smart as them? Why do the original languages have to be so hard for me? Why can’t they come naturally? Man, I can’t look stupid in front of them. I want them to approve of me and think I have something to offer to the conversation.” It haunts me. In fact, just like all idolatry (at least, at some point), it’s debilitating. Too often, I let my heart drift away from the reality of the gospel in my life and I seek to find contentment and identity in other places, building my own kingdom one lie and unmet expectation at a time.

As a millennial, I am often burdened by the implied expectations (or perceived expectations) that much of this radical, go-go-go, social justice-y, don’t slow down until you’re dead, type of Christianity that seems to be so common with Christians my age. Because I see what other Christians my age are doing, how much influence God has given them, I often try to one-up them, overcommitting myself, neglecting rest, and feeling guilty when I have to say, “No.” I’ve become perpetually exhausted and overworked. I put too much on my plate because I don’t want to disappoint anyone. The most ludicrous thing about seeking to make my name great is trying to please people I don’t see on a regular basis. It’s as if I am trying to please the idea of that person. I’m paralyzed by an abstract, hypothetical person. I can’t really please what isn’t really real, yet I try often.

It is these temptations, fears, insecurities, and atmosphere that many current ministry leaders, seminary students, and future pastors and church planters find themselves in. With all the gospel-centered, missional living talk, we can easily go from trying to proclaim the gospel in a culturally sensitive and relevant way to trying to build an empire, complete with full-blown PR campaigns and speaking engagements. We may even launch a new website or two. None of this alone is bad, of course. I have seen these used well and I have seen these go terribly, terribly wrong. Nonetheless, it should give us pause as we are about to tweet that pithy theological reflection, sign that book contract, build that blog, or speak at that big event to ask ourselves the pointed question, “If Jesus was not glorified and I got all the credit for this, would I be okay with that? Is this platform about the gospel or about me?” That’s a painful question to ask because if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll find many messy things in our hearts, stuff we would rather leave alone. We’ll come across mixed motives and unchecked pride. We may find a love for theological systems or projects rather than people. We may discover that all our efforts are spent in building and maintaining a platform, a name, which seeks to make much of us—but belittles Christ. This kind of honesty, it hurts. It’s painful, but it’s good. It’s good because the more we admit our brokenness, the more we admit we don’t have it together, that we have limits, that we truly are human and that means something, we will be able to more confidently proclaim the joy of the Christian life—Jesus is better.

Free Delight Forever

In Jesus, we are free. In fact, the greatest truth we can ever experience as believers is that of our union with Christ. As ministry leaders, we must daily come back to this well and drink deeply from it. We must not neglect to see this truth deeply hidden in our hearts and change the way we “live humanly in Jesus.”¹ In other words, we must cease to depersonalize the cross and understand what it means to be “in Christ.” As Marcus Peter Johnson writes, “Christ is our salvation and that we are the recipients of his saving work precisely and only because we are recipients of the living Christ. Our union with the living Christ is, in other words, what it means to be saved.”² This is the greatest news in the world and between all the blogs, sermons, office work, hospital visits, and dying saints, our weary hearts must come back to this repeatedly. Christ is our salvation. Christ is our salvation.³ Let it echo.

Otherwise, the daily “long obedience in the same direction” will become less important to us because platforms seem to offer more excitement than what we’re living. Deep down, we would rather be remembered than remain faithful. It’s a bad trade. Don’t fall for it. As we become experientially aware of our union with Christ as we are cognitively aware, we begin to live less and less for platforms and people-pleasing. We recognize that while being made in God’s image, we possess dignity and value, that reality never trumps the preciousness and worth of Jesus Christ. It gives us perspective and helps us to live rightly and serve in our ministries in a health, sustainable way. We can be content with being finite and having limitations, knowing fully that we have Christ, “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27).

In God’s grace, he may give some of us platforms for which to speak from, names for which people will know us, and ministries that will outlast us. These are good gifts from the Father and we can accept them as such. However, we must never seek the gifts themselves and ignore the Giver. Jesus is better than our names being great and that may mean we will simply “preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten.”

^{1. This phrase comes from Zac Eswine’s excellent book Sensing Jesus: Life and Ministry as a Human Being (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2012).↩}

^{2. Marcus Peter Johnson, One With Christ: An Evangelical Theology of Salvation (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2013), 18.↩}

^{3. Johnson rightly recognizes that within the Pauline and Johannine corpus, there are a plethora of verses that describe the believers union with Christ in such terms as “possessors of eternal life in Christ” (Rom. 6:23), “created in Christ” (Eph. 2:10), “crucified with him” (Gal. 2:20), “buried with him and baptized into him and his death” (Col. 2:12; Rom. 6:3), “united with him in his resurrection and seated with him in the heavenly places” (Rom. 6:5; Eph. 2:6), among others. See Ibid., 19-20. ↩}

—

Chris Crane serves as High School Small Group Leader at Lake Highlands Baptist Church in Dallas, TX. He holds a B.A. in Biblical Studies from Dallas Baptist University and is currently pursuing a Th.M. at Dallas Seminary. He has previously written for Gospel-Centered Discipleship, as well as The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. Occasionally, he writes at chriscrane.net. You can follow him on Twitter: @cmcrane87

The Guest List

My daughters received an invitation to attend a birthday party for our neighbors recently. If you’ve ever wondered how screams could be collected for energy (see Monsters Inc.), you’ve never been in the same room when young girls receive soul-thrilling news in the form of an invitation. My daughters’ hearts could have burst and their shrieks could have powered a small village—easily. Ecstatic joy flowed out of my daughters so naturally, I felt like I was being let in on something. We like to be invited to things. It makes us feel loved. It makes us feel like we belong. Jesus once told a parable about an invitation. It was an invitation, not to a birthday, but to a dinner—and at its core, it was a very unusual invitation.

The Parable of the Great Banquet

In Luke 14, Jesus first tells the Pharisees that when you give a banquet or a dinner, don’t invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors so they will invite you in return. Jesus instead says when you give a feast, invite the typically uninvited—the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.

Now, this is counter-intuitive because the Pharisees and scribes felt a sense of supremacy in their separation from those on the fringes. When the Pharisees and scribes would throw a party, they would only invite the people who could invite them back. In other words, the Pharisees manipulated hospitality for their own self-glory and reputation. Parties were about raising your social capital. Only those who could further that agenda were welcomed.

But the marginalized—those on the outside looking into the cultural upper echelon—had no way of doing this. In fact, if they were invited, they wouldn’t accept the gesture because they knew they would be required to repay the courtesy and they knew they couldn’t do that. It would be too humiliating to accept that type of invitation because they did not have the means to reciprocate, so they would refuse.

To further make his point, Jesus launches into a story to illustrate his teaching with the opening line, “A man once gave a great banquet and invited many.” This was going to be a huge event thrown by a very wealthy man. The Jews would have understood this. To be at this party would be the height of social recognition. In fact, when you were invited to a large dinner like this, you would typically get two invitations. The first invitation acknowledged you as an honored guest. The second invitation would come to alert you that the party was about to officially begin.

Now, when the second invitation comes in this parable, we go from the invitation to excuses. Every single person highlighted in this passage says, “I can’t come.” All of them. The Pharisees would have said, “Nobody would do that. This is disrespectful. This is uncivilized.” But in Jesus’ story, they all decline. So the wealthy man does the unthinkable. He tells his servant to go out and seek another group of people. He tells him to bid the outcasts to come to the banquet—the poor and crippled and blind and lame.

In the minds of the Pharisees, the first group wouldn’t turn down the invitation and the second group would never have been invited. But in this story, the master says go and bring them in. In Greek, the verb bring in highlights that they would have to be taken in because they would resist. They knew the etiquette—they would have to pay the master back with an even greater feast. And that would be impossible.

Pursue the Cast Outs and Marginalized

Then, Jesus introduces another wrinkle in his story. Seats at the banquet table are still vacant. So the master tells the servants to go out into “the highways, along the hedges and compel them to come in.” The master was saying to his servant that their venture out into the surrounding city was going to be a unique challenge.

Those they were now going after didn’t even have homes. They were not permitted in the city. They lived in places like brothels and inns and along the road and in the trees and in the bushes. That would be like us going to the overpasses, the Section 8 housing, the massage parlors, the meth houses, the gangs, and to the prisons to bring people to Thanksgiving dinner at our home. It would have been a scandalous request. Essentially, Jesus has the master say, “I had you seek the outcasts. Now, go find the outcasts of the outcasts and bring them to my party. We have open seats!”

Now, why did Jesus share this parable? Like the master, we must be willing to go out and find the people who are broken and hungry—those who know they don’t belong at the banquet of God because of their wretchedness. We must be willing to go find the untouchables—those who are spiritually aware of their other ineptness, desperateness and unworthiness. And when we do, we invite the broken and famished to share their lives with us and in turn, we share our mutual, spiritual jaggedness.

In a way, Jesus is showing us here that the real banquet table is our hearts and we must be generous with the guest list of our lives, regardless of the social capital we may lose or the hope we may receive something in return. Jesus says inviting people into your life who have nothing to repay you is the way of Christ. It really is the biblical doctrine of hospitality—the idea of welcoming the stranger. They may not have social prestige. They may not have prosperity. They may not have influence. Many will not have possessions. They may not have anyway to pay you back. But they do have one thing they can give and it is a priceless gift.

Reaching out to the marginalized will remind you how God went out in the person and work of Jesus to find you in the gutter of your sin and invite you into the banquet of his stunning salvation. It will remind you that God sought you when you did not have a spiritual “home”—when you were spiritually unaware of your unworthiness—and he said “You’re worthy now because I love you.” It’s the only invitation that really matters. An invitation into feasting on the inexpressible hope that comes from belonging to the High Holy One. And it just might make your heart burst with joy.

—

Brad Andrews is a husband of one, a father of seven, and an advocate for grace. He serves as pastor for preaching, vision, and missional leadership at Mercyview. in Tulsa, OK. He blogs at graceuntamed.com and his articles can also be found on Gospel-Centered Discipleship and Grace For Sinners. He served as a religion columnist for the former Urban Tulsa Weekly and was also one of the ten framers of The Missional Manifesto, alongside Tim Keller, Ed Stetzer, Alan Hirsch, Eric Mason, J.D. Greear, Dan Kimball, Linda Berquist, Craig Ott, and Philip Nation.


Trusting God’s Sovereignty

Can God be sovereign and humans still have free will? Are our destinies simply set?

Philip K. Dick was arguably the most influential science fiction writer of the late twentieth century. Several of his works, adapted as screenplays, explore the concept of free will. In Blade Runner we are brought face to face with the tension between genetic control and genuine feeling. The Adjustment Bureau pits choice against fate, as Matt Damon’s character attempts to alter the master plan for his life.

It all brings up an interesting, age-old question: Is it possible for there to be a sovereign God and for humans to have free will?

The stakes are high in this debate. If we surrender free will, life becomes bleak and hopeless. If God possesses exclusive control over our destinies, why should we do anything? What difference does anything make if life is all mapped out? If we surrender divine sovereignty, life loses transcendent meaning and purpose. We exist and then we die. The better the choices we make, the more apt we are to survive the race of the fittest, but for what—the mere propagation of our species? On the one hand we are left with unfeeling determinism, and on the other, a free-falling individualism.

Millions of people view the Bible as a source for knowing God. What does the Bible have to say on the topic of will?

A Glance at the Bible

There are stacks of biblical texts that underscore divine sovereignty, and even more that appeal to human will.

For example, the story of Job opens with a dialog between Satan and God. Satan questions the naked free will of “righteous Job.” Satan is convinced that without God’s sovereign hand of protection, Job will freely renounce God. Satan asks God to remove all aid and then is permitted to wreak havoc in Job’s life. The story concludes with Job expressing his steadfast hope in a sovereign God: “I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted.”¹

The will of Job meets, with hope, the sovereign plan of God. Avoiding the extremes of cold determinism and aimless individualism, Job presents divine sovereignty and human choice as entirely compatible.

In fact, the Bible consistently puts sovereignty and choice together:

• “To humans belong the plans of the heart,
 but from the Lord comes the proper answer of the tongue.”²
• “In their hearts humans plan their course, 
but the Lord establishes their steps.”³
• “Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”⁴

These texts appeal to our heart and ability to act, while at the same time recognizing that God ultimately determines the action. We are responsible, and he is sovereign. Decisions are made from the heart, while God is sovereign over those decisions.

Sounds like a contradiction, doesn’t it? How can those two things be compatible?

The Nature of the Will

The apparent contradiction is resolved when we understand the nature of the will. The will expresses our heart’s desire. Whatever we want most, we do. The will surveys the motives in the heart and always, always acts upon them. To give a Western example, if I desire a new TV, my will acts on that desire, and off I go to Best Buy.

But what happens when there are competing motives? What if, on the way to Best Buy, you stop at the ATM machine—and get held up? The thief tells you that if you don’t empty your entire account and give it to him, he will take your life. You really want your money—and you still want that TV—but you decide to give it all to him so you can live.

In that instance, were you prevented from exercising free will? Not at all. You simply did what you desired most. Being an ever-so-smart person, you desired to live more than you wanted a full bank account or a new TV. Whatever you desire most, your will acts on.

Freedom

Now we have stumbled into the matter of freedom. We often conceive of freedom as the absence of constraints. We think, “To really live, we need to be free to do whatever we want, free from restrictions.” Freedom, we argue, is the path to true flourishing.

But if we think on this, we’ll quickly see it isn’t entirely true. What would happen if every country in the world abolished all laws? Would that “freedom” increase life or decrease life? We all embrace certain restrictions because we know they lead to human prosperity.

Or consider the self-imposed restrictions of every musician in an orchestra. They willfully restrict their “freedom” to play however they want. Instead, they play the notes indicated on their music. What happens? Are the musicians oppressed, angry, and put down? No, they actually flourish. The restrictions enable them to create sounds they could never manage on their own—beautiful symphonies.

Putting It All Together

Now what does this have to do with God and free will? As a sovereign God, he imposes restrictions for our good. He composes the notes to life. He establishes moral laws so that we will flourish, but he does not force us to carry out these laws. In fact, we are free to do whatever our hearts desire.

If we desire to break the law, we do. If we want to reject God’s salvation in Christ, we can. We all make genuine choices, decisions that align with our heart’s desire. But this freedom is also the problem.

We are free to live for ourselves—even for others—but we are unable to live for God. Apart from gracious divine intervention, we simply don’t make God the north star of our life. As a result, we don’t gain Job-like confidence that, even in suffering, God has good purposes for us. Our wills are bound to broken hearts.

Consequently, we find it unappealing—if not impossible—to embrace God’s sovereignty, because deep down, we really want to be in charge. We want to make the rules. We want to set our own course, and it doesn’t include the path of self-denial and submission to God the Father. Our broken hearts have convinced us that true joy and flourishing are found outside of God.

 A New Heart

What we all need isn’t a free will (we already have that) but a new heart. We need new capacity to choose God, to love his ways, and to embrace his “restrictions” as the path to true life.

Jesus is the only person who did this perfectly. His heart was pure. He chose to follow the Father’s will, even when it meant suffering and death. He did it for us—for stubborn, short-sighted people who insist on their own way. He gave up his right to live so that we don’t have to die. If we relinquish our fixation on self-sovereignty and receive God’s gracious, righteous love and forgiveness, we will actually find true life.

When we come under the umbrella of God’s will, we are showered with the grace of true freedom. Transcendent purpose meets genuine, heartwarming choice. When we follow God’s master plan in Christ, we actually discover true love.

We come face to face with the only man who can love us perfectly and truly. If we receive it, that love gives the heart a whole new capacity to trust God’s sovereignty. In Jesus, we have the opportunity to flourish.

—

Jonathan K. Dodson (MDiv; ThM) serves as a pastor of City Life Church in Austin, Texas. He is the author of Gospel-Centered Discipleship, Unbelievable Gospel, and Raised? He has discipled men and women abroad and at home for almost two decades, taking great delight in communicating the gospel and seeing Christ formed in others. Twitter: @Jonathan_Dodson

The Lord of the Sparrows

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

—Fanny J. Crosby

Two Hard Truths

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Lord of the Little Things

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prayer and Praise

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

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

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

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

—

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

Originally published at JessalynHutto.com. Used with permission.

Carried unto Christ

My children are frequently disobedient—as children tend to be. They got it from their mother, my wife, and . . . from their grandparents. Okay, they got it from me too. But my involvement is more or less irrelevant at this point. So tuck my disobedient children away for a moment. We’ll be returning to this them.

Blessing the Little Children

In developing the theme of discipleship in Luke 18, it has been seen that unceasing prayer in to be honored (18:1-8) as well as the ministerial truth that mercy and humility must be at the root of prayer (18:9-14). In a natural continuation out of Christ’s parable, Luke shows how these elements come into play in practical life. It is at this point in his Gospel, Luke tells the infamous story of Jesus blessing the little children. Since most scholars of the synoptic Gospels presume Luke did not arrange his material chronologically, it is safe to assume that the prayer laden instruction from Jesus is actually tied into this event. As one might expect then, Luke uses some different wording than the other Gospels that helps present some insight to the why of the story,

15 And they were bringing even their babies to Him so that He would touch them, but when the disciples saw it, they began rebuking them. 16 But Jesus called for them, saying, “Permit the children to come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 17 Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.” —Luke 18:15-17

The first difference in Luke’s rendition is “infants” (translated “babies” above), so these weren’t just children being brought before Jesus. These babies could not have reached Christ on their own. They were, in fact, carried. This is hardly meaningless. Scripture regularly shows the potential for blessing even for those incapable of understanding what was happening to them. This theme of people being brought to Jesus because of physical infirmity, being ill, or demon possessed is common throughout the Gospels. People of all ages and ailments were physically brought to Jesus because they could not bring themselves.

The second difference in Luke’s rendition is that the babies are brought to be “touched” by Jesus. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus lays hands on the children and prayers (Matt 19:13), but for Mark and Luke the word “touch” is used. This slight word change ties the activity of Jesus back to His numerous healings throughout the gospels. Both Luke and Mark focus intently on how healing occurs when Christ touches (Matthew includes these stories but also emphasizes how Christ can heal with his words). Taken at face value, Luke could be insinuating that these children needed healing but that makes the disciples’ decision even stranger. Instead, it should be read as a general insight that what the Messiah touched was often healed, made clean, and pronounced as purified. And to the disciples this status seemed wasted on babies.

Carried unto Christ

These are the truths of the gospel. People are carried unto Christ because they are spiritually infirmed. It is the real touch of Jesus Christ that purifies people. Christian discipleship should recognize all these things to be true and facilitate them. However, unchecked discipleship can result in the mannerism of the disciples. They “rebuked” the infirmed and those carrying them. Perhaps they were concerned about the Savior’s precious time. Perhaps he was extra tired from the healing or was unable to teach them as much during such days. In either case, the disciples had decided that they were not (yet?) worth of Jesus’ time.

Now reintroduce my disobedient children. As their father before them, they are a rebellious lot. Sinful and fallen decisions are made that should not be made. And yet it would be silly for me to propose that my youngest, Judah, apologize to me and explain why he desires my love and forgiveness. No. To a certain symbolic degree he is infirmed. He cries when punished and does not understand the torments of a fallen world. I cannot wait for him to come to me. I must go to him and reassure him that my forgiveness is there. Sometimes, when he has sinned against his mother I pick him up and take him to her so that she can show him the forgiveness that he does not yet know he needs.

As a parent I am called to make forgiveness, comfort, and love accessible to my children. I do these as a stand-in example of the Father and Son. True Christian discipleship should not make Christ less accessible. This can be done through our attitudes, preferences, and behavior. We can obscure the Lord with our theological language, Bible studies, and commentary quotes. The growing disciple of Christ should be increasingly sensitive and compassionate to the infirmed who cannot bring themselves to Christ and who may not remember their encounter with Christ. For it is in these encounters that Christ touches and heals people for His kingdom.

—

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

Guilt Isn’t Just a “Religious” Problem

I’m pretty sure everyone’s had one of those conversations where days or months afterwards you think to yourself, “Man, that’s what I should have said to So-n-so!” After analyzing the problem with the heat turned down, you end up spotting the fatal flaw, or key unquestioned assumption that was driving it in the direction it was going. Unfortunately, I have those all the time, both because I overthink things, and because I’m not always as quick on my feet as I’d like to be. One such conversation arose in one of my philosophy classes in my undergrad. We were talking about the ethics of belief, the sub-section of philosophy that deals with when it’s okay to believe something. Questions such as: Can you believe something just because you want to? Is evidence always necessary for every belief you hold? Is it ever okay to believe something you can’t prove? That kind of thing.

Well, we were discussing Pascal’s famous (and widely misunderstood) argument The Wager. Pascal was writing in Catholic France at a time when philosophical skepticism had made a comeback and the classic arguments for the existence of God were in doubt. As part of a broader apologetic, he proposed a little thought-experiment to show that even without evidence skepticism still wasn’t your best option.  

The gist of it is this: you’ve got two things at stake when it comes to belief in God, the truth of the matter and your happiness in this life. What’s more, you’ve got two faculties you use to come to your belief, your reason and your will. He says, “Well, say the odds for and against the existence of God are 50/50—there are good arguments both ways, and so your reason can’t settle the issue and the truth is unverifiable. Then what? Well, you shouldn’t consider the issue settled. You still have your will and your happiness to think about.” In Pascal’s view, it makes sense that you should still go for belief in God because that’s the only way to achieve the joy of meaning, purpose, and so forth that comes with belief in God. For the purposes of the story we don’t need to go further. For a better explanation, consult Peter Kreeft’s excellent summary and retooling of the Wager.

Here’s the payout for the story. Pascal argued that believing in God had benefits and joys for this life like meaning, purpose, virtue, and so forth. As we discussed this, my professor—let’s call him Professor Jones—said something I’ll never forget. He asked, gently, but with a hint of sarcasm, “Oh, you mean the joy of going around feeling guilty all the time for your sins?” In Professor Jones’ mind, the corollary of belief in God is an overwhelming and unrelievable sense of guilt for violating his rules. This clearly didn’t seem like a step up to him.

Now, at the time, I didn’t have conversational space, or wherewithal to respond adequately, but if I had, I would have said, “Oh, but Professor Jones, you already walk around struggling with guilt over failing your god.”

Failing Your Gods

Now, what do I mean by that? Well, let me break it down in a few steps.

Everybody Has a God. The first step is understanding that everybody has a god of some sort. The world we live in tends to split people up between believers and non-believers. The Bible has a different dividing line—worshipers of the true God or worshipers of something else. See, everybody has something in their life that they treat as a functional god. Whatever you look to in order to give you a sense of self, meaning, worth, and value is a god. Martin Luther put it this way,

A god means that from which we are to expect all good and to which we are to take refuge in all distress, so that to have a God is nothing else than to trust and believe Him from the [whole] heart; as I have often said that the confidence and faith of the heart alone make both God and an idol. –Large Catechism

So whether you believe intellectually, in a deity or not, you still worship something. This is because we were created by God for worship, so if we won’t worship him something else rushes in to plays that role in your life, be it money, career, status, relationships, and so forth. It’s either God, or an idol. There is no other option.

Everybody Follows and Fails that God’s Commands. Following this, every god has commands and demands worship. If you make money your god, then you are under command (compulsion) in order to do whatever it takes to acquire it. You will work as hard as you need to (become a workaholic) and sacrifice whatever you have to (relationships, kids, ethics) in order to get it. When you have it, you feel secure. You’ve achieved and obeyed so the god has blessed you. The flip-side is, if you fail it—make a bad investment, lose your cash in a housing crash—then you feel the loss of security, but also the crushing sense of guilt that comes with failing your god. Wrath descends.

With a few moment’s reflection you can see this everywhere: from the careerist who can’t forgive herself for blowing that promotion, to that bitter young scholar struggling to live up to his father’s expectations, to the mother who crushes herself because her child-god didn’t turn out picture perfect the way she needed her to. All of them struggle under the weight of the guilt brought on by their failure to please their functional gods. All of them suffer guilt and shame, even if we don’t call it that.

David Foster Wallace has a justly famous quote on the subject:

Because here’s something else that’s true. In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship.And an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of God or spiritual-type thing to worship—be it J.C. or Allah, be it Yahweh or the Wiccan mother-goddess or the Four Noble Truths or some infrangible set of ethical principles—is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things—if they are where you tap real meaning in life—then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. On one level, we all know this stuff already—it’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. Worship power—you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart—you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on.

Only the Biblical God Offers Forgiveness and Grace.

Here’s where it all clicked for me, though. I was reading Tim Keller’s The Reason for God and I ran across this brilliant passage at the end of his chapter breaking down this idolatry dynamic:

Remember this—if you don’t live for Jesus you will live for something else. If you live for career and you don’t do well it may punish you all of your life, and you will feel like a failure. If you live for your children and they don’t turn out all right you could be absolutely in torment because you feel worthless as a person. If Jesus is your center and Lord and you fail him, he will forgive you. Your career can’t die for your sins. You might say, “If I were a Christian I’d be going around pursued by guilt all the time!” But we all are being pursued by guilt because we must have an identity and there must be some standard to live up to by which we get that identity. Whatever you base your life on—you have to live up to that. Jesus is the one Lord you can live for who died for you—who breathed his last breath for you. Does that sound oppressive?

. . . Everybody has to live for something. Whatever that something is becomes “Lord of your life,” whether you think of it that way or not. Jesus is the only Lord who, if you receive him, will fulfill you completely, and, if you fail him, will forgive you eternally.

–The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism (pp. 170-171)

So to sum up: Everybody has a god. Every god has rules and everybody fails their god. Everybody walks around with guilt and shame. But only the God we find in Jesus Christ will forgive those sins so that we don’t have to walk around feeling guilty all the time. Ironically enough, believing in God isn’t the road to more guilt, but the road out from underneath the guilt you already struggle with.

This is the answer I’d wish I’d given Professor Jones.

—

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

Original posted at DerekZRishmawy.com. Used with permission.