3 Lessons from John L. Girardeau for Crossing Divides
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature, and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series:
- 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children
- 4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
- 3 Counter-Cultural Lessons from Elisabeth Elliot
- 2 Principles for Living Free from J. R. R. Tolkien
- 4 Convictions for Boldness from John Knox
- 3 Essentials of Discipleship According to Herman Bavinck
- 4 Gifts to the Church from Mechthild of Magdeburg
—
I remember as a young kid waking up in the middle of the night and walking into my parent's room and just staring at them. It sounds creepy, but I'm sure that many parents know exactly what I am talking about. I did not want to wake my parents, so I decided just to get right in their face and stare. They would wake up, startled, and fuss over the mild heart attack I just gave them.
In a way, this is the story of the old Presbyterian churches throughout the South. Looking back into the early nineteenth century, the Southern Presbyterians were solid in their doctrine, but inconsistencies in their practices and teaching were staring them right in the face. Slavery.
Didn’t slavery in the antebellum South not go against the grace and compassion that the Southern Presbyterians preached? Was this not breaking the commandment to love your neighbor? One minister —a Southern Presbyterian—struggled with these questions.
John L. Girardeau is not a household name, but his boldness for the Scriptures and his heart for discipleship should not be forgotten. Early on Girardeau desired to minister to the slave community in the low country of South Carolina. He graduated seminary in 1848 and went on to be a famous pastor to the slaves of Charleston, SC.
Through his pastor's heart, his Biblical convictions, and his boldness to break the great divide of race, he has a lot to teach us today about discipleship.
1. A Pastor to the Least of These
Girardeau spent much of early life around slaves because his father ran a small plantation. His mother’s compassion for the slaves made a strong impression on the young John. He watched as she would care for them while they were sick and share Bible stories with them. Girardeau's love for the slaves as people and his desire to see them know Christ would grow.
Conviction, compassion, and a pastor’s heart starts in the home—even when inconsistencies and sin are present. His home was full of regular family devotions, his parents taught him what it meant to pray without ceasing, they worshipped faithfully together at their local church, and observed the Lord's Day with great reverence and admiration. Later in his life Girardeau shared these practices and his knowledge of Christ with slaves.
As he grew, he attended college and enrolled in seminary at Columbia, SC. He would regularly listen to the preaching and teaching of James Thornwell and Benjamin Morgan Palmer. These men's theological convictions and walks with Christ were instrumental to Girardeau. All the while, he still longed to minister to the "least of these."
Even in his time in the midlands of South Carolina, Girardeau would spend time in the streets ministering to the homeless. He would travel to the local plantations and preach the gospel to the slaves. He would continue to do this while fervently studying with the goal in mind—go back to his home region and preach and teach to the slave community.
As he returned to the low country of South Carolina, his longing became a reality as he began his ministry to the slaves. At his first church, he would preach in the mornings to his white congregation then for the slaves on Sunday afternoons. He would travel around to the different plantations in the surrounding area and preach from the porches of the slave houses. Girardeau would sometimes preach six or seven times on a given Sunday. He would eventually be called to serve as the minister of a mission church built for the slaves in the Charleston area. In 1854, he had a regular attendance of thirty-six people and six short years later would preach to a congregation of over 1500.
Through his preaching there was never a doubt where his theological convictions were founded. Girardeau held fast to the Scriptures and found the Westminster Confession and Catechisms a faithful exposition of biblical truth. He would use both throughout his preaching and ministry.
Ultimately, the small mission church Girardeau was called to pastor was too small for the crowds that were gathering to hear him preach. The plantation owners in the Charleston area built another church for the slaves. The slaves would call it Zion Presbyterian Church. Zion Church would continue to grow and its influence in the lives of the slaves and in the community would not be surpassed.
2. A Barrier Breaker
Girardeau has been considered by some to be the "Spurgeon of America." He preached with a clear and gentle voice. His sermons were always Christ-centered and applicable. The congregation was regularly brought to deep conviction of their sins sometimes to the point of tears.
His proclamation of the gospel was clear and precise. He handled the Word rightly. He always presented the gospel then underlined the believer's response to the gospel as he called the people to love God with all of their heart, body, and soul and for them to love their neighbor as themselves.
Girardeau, in the new Zion Presbyterian Church, established a thorough education program where the catechisms, hymns, Psalms, and Scripture memorization were practiced. This entire education program came at a time when it was illegal to teach a slave to read and write. Girardeau and the elders of the church would be criticized and sometimes were physical intimidated by those who disagreed with their ministry.
However, the church stayed true to its vision and taught the slaves fervently through what Girardeau called Sabbath Schools. The slaves would be discipled in classes and spiritually strong men would be trained to be future leaders of the church.
As the Civil War began, Girardeau was called to be a chaplain for the Confederate Army. However, his intentional discipleship of the "least of these" never stopped. These classes were continued even in his absence. As the war ended, Girardeau was begged to come back to the Zion Church. Dr. C.N. Willborn writes in the Presbyterian Church in America history logs,
"[The Zion Church] desired to have their white pastor whom they knew, loved, and respected, rather than a black missionary from the North." [1]
Even with this pleading from the congregation, because of Reconstruction and the Freedman's Bureau happening throughout the South, he could not return.
Davey Salley, in his article for Banner of Truth, writes,
"It was a sad situation: many of the Southern whites were defensive and bitter; and the policy of the Freedman’s Bureau, set up by the Northern government, was to divide the now free black citizens from the Southern white populace."[2]
Nevertheless, Girardeau still trained the newly freed slaves through Sabbath Schools and taught them the same as if he was their pastor.
This discipleship process culminated in 1869, after the Civil War, as Girardeau nominated seven newly freed slaves to become elders of the Zion Presbyterian Church. Later that year he preached the ordination service and along with his white elders, they laid hands on their black brothers ordaining them to the office of ruling elder in the Presbyterian Church.
3. A Reformer Who Stood Alone
Stepping across the great divide of race within the South before and after the Civil War did not come without a price.
Girardeau and some of his elders were criticized and even threatened for teaching and training the slaves. Even after the Civil War when the slaves were freed, Girardeau still faced great opposition for his desire to disciple the "least of these." One particular instance would pin him against one of the very men who he was mentored by during his time in seminary. Willborn again writes,
"The pressures of Reconstruction and the Freedmen's Bureau, and the hardened positions of notables like B. M. Palmer [who Girardeau would sit under the preaching of during his time in Columbia] and R. L. Dabney brought the church to a pivotal moment. The weight of political and social issues eventuated in "organic separation" of white membership and black membership and the formation of churches along the color line. Girardeau alone dissented against the resolution at the 1874 General Assembly in Columbus, Mississippi, for which he served as Moderator." [3]
Girardeau was the only dissenting vote. He boldly stood. He believed the Scriptures demanded loving and teaching the "least of these" and his convictions held fast. He would stand alone if that is what it took, and sometimes he had to do just that.
Girardeau would continue to preach and teach until his death. He would be nominated to take the endowed chair at Columbia Theological Seminary and is still recognized as a prominent professor. However, we should rejoice and take note of his work discipling the slave community where he lovingly pastored the "least of these," faithfully taught them while breaking barriers, and many times stood alone.
[1] Dr. C.N. Willborn. http://www.pcahistory.org/HCLibrary/periodicals/spr/bios/girardeau.html
[2] Davey Salley. https://banneroftruth.org/us/resources/articles/2015/john-l-girardeau-minister-to-the-slaves-of-south-carolina/
[3] Willborn.
—
Matthew D. Adams is the Director of Youth and Family Ministries at First Presbyterian Church, PCA in Dillon, SC. He is currently a Master’s of Divinity student at Erskine Theological Seminary in Columbia, SC. He lives in a small town by the name of Hamer, SC and is married to Beth. Follow him on twitter @Matt_Adams90.
A Case for Public Discipleship
What we talk about and the words we use when we approach discipleship are important. If the direction of our discipleship is unclear or incomplete, that shortcoming will affect our pursuit of the image of Christ. For example, if you were asked what do spirituality and discipleship look like what are your initial thoughts? Does it include people’s work place? Does it include business, art, or music? Just completing a quick search for “what is discipleship” pulls up this definition:
A Disciple is one who grows in Christ and in so doing models and teaches Christians the precepts of the Bible, prayer, doctrine, relationship, Christian living, service, and worship, to name the main ones.
This plays out in a discipleship relationship where we often, subtly, are just transferring information. For some this can be an emphasis in theology, for others it’s Scripture memorization, and in other groups it’s a deeper “level of the Spirit.” In the best case scenarios, we see how this knowledge applies to our hearts practically and what steps can be done to continue this walk.
While we should celebrate any areas where a believer is discipled I would contend that large portions of our lives remain untouched with this kind of knowledge transfer approach to discipleship. I am not saying the traditional approaches are bad or inherently wrong. Having a sharpened focus on spiritual disciplines and obtaining knowledge are a vital part of discipleship and should be integrated into any approach. Rather this approach alone is incomplete. It doesn’t integrated with our daily lives, work, or human flourishing through loving our neighbors in politics, art, education, culture, and other public spheres.
Why Is This?
As we approach discipleship, we assume that the focus should be primarily, if not entirely, on spiritual disciplines. Songs are written, blogs shared, books authored, and sermons preached that teach exclusively that this world is not our home and that one day we will escape from it to float in heaven and sing songs. This kind of teaching implicitly prioritizes “spiritual” practices like Scripture reading and prayer; meanwhile because this world is not our home, it implicitly teaches Christians to neglect “worldly” practices like taking care of the world, creating excellent art, or focusing on social justice.
Dr. Anthony Bradley writes that this deficient view is rooted in a fundamental misunderstanding of where our gospel begins. He argues that when we begin with man’s depravity in Genesis 3 rather than man’s creation and cultural mandate in Genesis 1 our starting point is faulty:
A Gen 1 and 2 starting point views the gospel as a means for human beings to have a realized experience of what their humanity was meant to be and to do, whereas a Gen. 3 orientation sees the gospel as a means of saving us from our humanity in preparation for the eschaton (heaven).
In order to see the need for our public lives to be discipled along with our private ones we must understand that our good news begins in creation, not the fall. This creation based approach prevents us from seeing creation as an evil to be avoided rather than a good to be stewarded.
When God created us he created us good. Sin marred this inherent goodness that Christ’s victory through the cross and resurrection has started to restore in us and the world. In a sense when we are being disciple, it is not to become more otherworldly in our discipleship process but rather more human, how God intended us to originally be from creation.
Public Discipleship
Misunderstanding the fundamental goodness of creation fosters a lack of engagement in our world.
When Scripture speaks negatively of the world, it is not speaking to the material form we see around us but rather the sinful systems, desires, and worldviews that oppose God.
God created the world as inherently good in the same way that man was originally created as good. In the same way that God works a particular type of grace to save people there is also a type, called common grace, in which he works throughout his creation. This common grace restricts the affects of the fall on mankind as well as empowering us to better cultivate creation and serve the world.
In Exodus 31 tells us that Bezalel was “filled with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability, and knowledge in all kinds of crafts to make artistic designs.” Also, Isaiah 28:23-29 teaches us how God gives the farmer his abilities to cultivate the ground correctly in order to produce crops. God reveals his truth in a way that advances human culture beyond just personal piety. In every advancing stage of society, God is the one working through people and society to further display his glory in the world.
This is not just limited to farming but extends to all advances in human culture such as the utilization of electricity, the invention of personal computers, or even the mapping out of DNA by the Human Genome Project. These all imprint God’s restoring work in creation that we should fully embrace rather than ignore in our discipleship efforts. Abraham Kuyper, Dutch Reformed Theologian, in his Lectures on Calvinism says:
Henceforth the curse should no longer rest upon the world itself, but upon that which is sinful in it, and instead of monastic flight from the world the duty is now emphasized of serving God in the world, in every position in life.
This “every position of life” emphasis in discipleship could be termed—“Public Discipleship.” Practically this would encourage believers to steward creation in whatever area of influence they find themselves in and to do it well. This could be milking cows to produce the best milk possible or creating jobs by being a successful entrepreneur. This public discipleship is not less than spiritual discipline and knowledge but more as we work them out in our everyday lives.
However, if we see discipleship intersect with our jobs or the public square, we are prone to give lip service to Jesus when given a platform. Musicians are given quotas on how often they must say the name of Jesus, artists with how many crosses are painted in a picture, and businessman charged with how cleverly they can fit a Scripture into a business plan. Let’s honestly answer: Does this advance the kingdom?
Most jobs don’t provide daily opportunities to evangelize and pray with co-workers, clients, or customers. For those in these other jobs they might start to wonder how the grand scope of Scripture informs how they work if their discipleship is only knowledge transfer. Scripture tells us that that our faithfulness to work helps bring God’s plan for all of mankind to fruition.
In his recent work, The Political Disciple: A Theology of Public Life, Vincent Bacote promotes an idea called “Public Holiness.” This approach teaches how our sanctification overflows from our lives into the public arena and our interaction with those around us. This means that not only do we individually become more like Christ but we also extend that into making society more reflective of God’s intentions as well. He writes,
Though we may often think of holiness in in terms of our personal piety (and indeed we should), the pursuit and expression of holiness is hardly antithetical to Christian engagement in public concerns such as politics.[1]
This approach prevents the promotion of biblical values in issues of personal morality to the neglect of what God says on public morality. This approach engages our areas of influence holistically no matter where we have been placed by God. This approach means applying the ethics of the entirety of Scripture to the entirety of life.
How Does This Happen in Discipleship?
You may be saying to yourself, “Well that sounds good and we should affirm God’s plan in our vocation but what now?” There are numerous ways to highlight how our discipleship is related to all of life. In whatever discipleship approach your denomination or church may practice whether community-centered, one-on-one relationship, or another form the public discipleship emphasis can be adapted into the approach.
- Affirm Vocation – Communicate this clearly and consistently. Just that emphasis alone would be a great place to start. Timothy Keller’s Every Good Endeavor might be a good tool to jump start the conversation in small groups or traditional information transfer discipleship programs.
- Find Their Role – Encourage people to find how their work specifically relates to God’s work in this world. For example, if someone is building fences we could show how this demonstrates God’s common grace in restraining sin and protecting people and their property.
- Connect – Connect with others who value excellence in their craft. Often people in non-explicitly Christian vocations feel alone in their pursuit of doing things well. Help them connect with others in their field which can create persistence in serving in their role well.
- Challenge – Challenge people to be creative to help them serve better. That can be a more efficient way to work, starting a business to help create jobs, or providing quality care for their peers or employees. This challenge is to start viewing work as a way to extend God’s kingdom rather than just getting a paycheck.
What we talk about and the words we use in discipleship matter. It affects our emphases in how we seek to glorify God and become increasingly Christ-like. When all of Scripture informs all of life we have a public discipleship that extends inwardly to our personal piety as well as outwardly to loving/serving those around us. As we pursue various ways to disciple people in our given contexts, let’s affirm this area and make much of God and his reign wherever we can.
This worldview has reshaped my way of working at my current job. Daily I would have such a struggle to see how my work was accomplishing anything meaningful. I would have days of working on multiple accounts and clocking in that I felt would be better served preaching, teaching, serving at the church, or other more direct forms of what I understood ministry to be. Once I began to understand the way my work connected to God’s work in the world, it reinvigorated my appreciation for the purpose of work.
The majority of people we focus on in our discipleship relationships will be in the same boat. They may be working at a job they find purposeless or mundane. We should aim to affirm their vocational calling and encourage everyone to make much of God in their 9-5.
[1] This chapter and idea is where the aforementioned public discipleship term is based off of.
—
Kevin Garcia is married to a beautiful woman, Miriam Garcia, and is a senior at SAGU. He will be continuing his studies in seminary afterwards particularly to study in the areas of philosophy, theology, social issues, and apologetics. He is passionate about seeing God work in urban contexts and examining the worldviews that influence people. He serves in a variety of areas at his church including teaching and preaching at LifePoint Church in the OakCliff neighborhood of Dallas, TX. Follow him on Twitter at: @kevingarcia__
4 Gifts to the Church from Mechthild of Magdeburg
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature, and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series:
- 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children
- 4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
- 3 Counter-Cultural Lessons from Elisabeth Elliot
- 2 Principles for Living Free from J. R. R. Tolkien
- 4 Convictions for Boldness from John Knox
- 3 Essentials of Discipleship According to Herman Bavinck
—
A week after I started reading Mechthild of Magdeburg[1], my wife asked jokingly (I think) whether she should be worried about my new 13th-century girlfriend. It was an understandable question: I’d never read anything quite like Mechthild’s The Flowing Light of the Godhead and I was eager to tell anyone who would (pretend to) listen about this fascinating writer. Mechthild (her name looks complicated, but it’s closely related to “Matilda”; the ch is hard, like in character, and the th is more like a t) lived most of her life as a beguine[2]—a member of a lay sisterhood, living in chastity, poverty, and community—before entering a convent in later life. She and her book became inspirational models for contemplative prayer; but soon after her death, Mechthild’s work was known only in bits and pieces, often anonymously. So if you haven’t heard of her, that’s not surprising. As I’ve continued to study Mechthild’s life and work, I’ve found four significant gifts that she gave to the church—gifts that I’ve experienced personally, and that I think can be profoundly helpful for discipleship today.
1. The gift of creativity in prayer and writing.
Mechthild’s book is a mixture of visionary journeys, images of courtly love drawn from her medieval world, conversations between her soul and the Lord, sympathetic observations on characters from Scripture, and other meditations. But later, she asks God to let her stop writing: she feels “just as weak and unworthy, and more so, than . . . when I was required to begin.” God responds by showing her “a spiritual convent” of personified virtues. For example, the “abbess is sincere love”; the choir mistress, hope; the schoolmistress, wisdom; and the “mistress of the sick is toiling mercy.”[3] In these personifications, perhaps Mechthild’s prayerful imagination is rising to the challenge of relying on (and identifying with) her new sisters, even in the frustrations of writing. It’s as if she’s looking at the flawed, flesh-and-blood sisters around her, and seeing, in their actions, reflections of love, hope, mercy, etc. What would happen if we asked the Holy Spirit to use this text to shape our perceptions of others in our churches and communities? Individually and together, how are we embodying such virtues? Where might God be calling us to nurture, complement, and pray for one another in our practices of love, generosity, or peacemaking?
I’ve also found that Mechthild’s book fuels my own reading and writing. In my journaling, her tendency to align her character with those that inspire her in Scripture—not just for their heroics, but for their approach to suffering—has transformed the way I identify with the oh-so-human thoughts and reactions recorded there. Mechthild’s honesty about her failings and weaknesses has changed the way I see the Examen, the prayer in which we take stock of our day and ask for God’s help in remedying the moments that require forgiveness. I’ve even found Mechthild’s work helpful for my own creative writing, as I’m working on a novel that draws significantly from her life experience. Not that I always agree with her theology or her interpretations of Scripture; but when I part company with her, I have to discern what it is that I disagree with and why. Prayerfully cultivating such discernment makes us more sensitive to the voice of God, more faithful in our imagination and discipleship, and that’s never a bad thing.
2. The gift of seeing estrangement and exile as welcome gifts.
One of the most consistent notes in Mechthild’s writing is her yearning for God’s presence. To express this yearning, she often used images of estrangement and exile, as though she were living in another country, separated from her true home and her Lord. These metaphors helped her face challenges in her life, coming to see them as bittersweet blessings from God. It probably shouldn’t surprise us that she found help in identifying her feelings of estrangement and exile with similar experiences of the Bible’s cast members, including Jesus, Mary, John the Evangelist, Peter, Paul, and Stephen. In the following short excerpts, Mechthild speaks respectively to Mary Magdalene, John the Baptist, and Mary, Jesus’ mother:
“I live with you in the desert wilderness, because all things are foreign to me except God alone”;
“To the extent that we live a holy life in exile,” we resemble John the Baptist;
“Ah, Lady, remember all my longings and all my prayers . . . when I leave this deplorable exile.”[4]
Desert wilderness. Foreign. Deplorable exile. With these images, and in solidarity with biblical figures who had undergone similar experiences, Mechthild transforms her feelings of estrangement and exile into heartfelt prayers of hunger for God. Amid the rapid religious, political, and cultural shifts that are re-shaping our world today, the image of exile is receiving a lot of attention: in some instances it’s being used to describe a sense of loss and nostalgia for the Christendom of the past, while in other cases it’s employed as a picture of Christian mission in an uncertain future, and it’s not easy to tell where one ends and the other begins.[5] And in the current Syrian refugee crisis, we should be careful not to use images of exile too easily, as exile is a very real thing for so many. But in all of this, exile and estrangement should never be left as merely abstract concepts. They certainly weren’t just images for Mechthild; they were at the heart of her prayer language, shaping her prayers for herself and for others in their suffering.
3. The gift of following Christ as a pilgrim.
400 years before John Bunyan wrote Pilgrim’s Progress, Mechthild envisioned her life as a pilgrimage,
following a path that Jesus had walked as a pilgrim before her. In her younger days, she had observed,
“God guides his chosen children along strange paths . . . that God himself trod: that a human being, though free of sin and guilt, suffer pain. Upon this path the soul that aches for God is joyful.”[6]
Years later, ravaged by age, illness, and blindness, she returns to the exile theme as she laments:
“This is how the tormented body speaks to the lonely soul: ‘When shall you soar with the feathers of your yearning to the blissful heights to Jesus, your eternal Love? Thank him there for me, lady, that, feeble and unworthy though I am, he nevertheless wanted to be mine when he came into this land of exile and took our humanity upon himself.’”[7]
The younger Mechthild understands this path is “strange” not merely because it carries both pain and joy, but because God himself has preceded her on it and is now her guide. Looking back upon the same path, her older self is thankful for the same grace, in a different key: Christ “wanted to be mine when he came into this land of exile and took our humanity upon himself.” Here—and in other places in her book, where she envisions Christ himself as a pilgrim[8]—Mechthild reminds herself, and us, that if the hard moments of our lives feel like estrangement, alienation, and exile, then there is consolation in knowing that God himself knows what it is like to have been estranged, alienated, and exiled. As if that were not enough, God wants to identify so closely with us in our hardships that he belongs to us, and we belong to him.
4. The gift of submitting our gifts to our community and the church.
Having spent her earlier life serving in what today we might call “intentional community,” when Mechthild transitioned to the convent in later life and poor health, she struggled with letting others serve her, as well as with the question of whether to keep working on her book, as we’ve already seen. But her writing shows how she brought these challenges back to God. Even when she struggled most with her longing for God’s presence—confessing, once, that when God “chooses to withdraw,” to temporarily estrange or absent himself from her, “My longing is higher than the stars”[9]—even then, her life points to a submission to Christ and to the church. In continuing to live in community with her new sisters, in submitting to their Cistercian order, and in completing her book as an example of contemplative prayer that would inspire them even after her death, Mechthild’s path of discipleship wasn’t just a “vertical” relationship of disciple and Master, but a “horizontal” relationship with other disciples in her community, too. She might not have put it quite this way, but Mechthild was contributing her gifts to what has been called the maintenance of longing:[10] a mutual support of one another’s hopes for God’s kingdom, when facing a deeply fragmented world.
In all of these gifts—and perhaps in others that I haven’t yet discerned—Mechthild’s discipleship isn’t a new thing. It is a well-worn path, which she followed with faltering but prayerful steps, inviting others to follow along. She was well aware of the company of saints who had preceded her on this path, and of her own frailty and faults that kept her from walking it as confidently as she might have liked. But she allowed Christ to use these challenges to conform her more closely to his image, so that others might meet Christ while following the written “footsteps” she left behind in her book.
[1] Much of this post is adapted and expanded from a longer paper that I hope will be published in an upcoming issue of the Canadian Theological Review.
[2] Yes, as a matter of fact, the word is distantly related to the Cole Porter song, “Begin the Beguine.”
[3] Mechthild of Magdeburg, The Flowing Light of the Godhead, Book 7.36. Quotations in English are from Frank Tobin’s translation (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 1998).
[4] Ibid., 2.24, 6.32, and 7.20, respectively.
[5] For a helpful study of this image of exile in biblical tradition and the church today, see my friend Lee Beach’s book, The Church in Exile: Living in Hope After Christendom (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015).
[6] Ibid., 1.25.
[7] Ibid., 7.65.
[8] Ibid., 6.33, 7.13.
[9] Ibid., 7.8.
[10] Sherrie Steiner and Michelle Harper Brix, “Mark 7: Nurturing Common Life among Members of Intentional Community,” in School(s) for Conversion: 12 Marks of a New Monasticism, edited by The Rutba House (New Monastic Library 1; Eugene: Cascade, 2005), 97–111, citing 102 here.
—
Matthew Forrest Lowe is a freelance editor, professor, and writer, specializing in spiritual formation, biblical theology, and imperial contexts. He lives in Hamilton, Ontario, where he co-directs Lectio House, a retreat house startup, with his wife Karen.
Jesus Loves the (Unborn) Children
Within the past couple of months, the conversation over abortion in America has changed forever with the scandal surrounding Planned Parenthood and their use of fetal tissue and handling of aborted babies. Through several scathing videos, both sides of the political aisle and much of the culture was left stunned by what they saw and hear. Several state and federal agencies investigated Planned Parenthood resulting in several states removing funding. Most recently, the House of Representatives has attempted to defund Planned Parenthood which the Senate chose to block. Many companies—such as Coke, Xerox, and Ford—instructed Planned Parenthood to remove their names from the list of company donors, while other major companies—such as Avon, March of Dimes, Macy’s, and the American Cancer Society—have made it clear that they have no direct involvement in giving financial support to Planned Parenthood. Even StemExpress, the company featured on these videos, has chosen to cut ties with the company. Regardless of the national outcome, we can now say along with William Wilberforce, “You may choose to look the other way but you can never again say you did not know.
”
Margaret Sanger in Woman and the New Race writes,
[We should] apply a stern and rigid policy of sterilization and segregation to that grade of population whose progeny is tainted, or whose inheritance is such that objectionable traits may be transmitted to offspring.[1]
Furthermore, in the Birth Control Review in 1932, she wrote “Birth control must lead ultimately to a cleaner race.”[2] In Woman, Morality, and Birth Control, Sanger absurdly writes,
We should hire three or four colored ministers, preferably with social-service backgrounds, and with engaging personalities. The most successful educational approach to the Negro is through a religious appeal. We don’t want the word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population, and the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members.[3]
This is sad, evil, and heartbreaking. It is certainly evidence of a Western cultural narrative that has no place for God, only radical individualism, a incurvatus in se, a life oriented towards the self rather than towards God or in service to others. It’s a revelation of how American consumerism funnels into our view of life, where lives are expendable and meaningless if they don’t somehow benefit us. This is the world we live in. So how can churches respond to this culture of death? How can we faithful live out the gospel in our communities?
1. Know the Science
For example, Dr. Micheline Matthews-Roth, associate professor of medicine at Harvard University Medical School says, “[It] is scientifically correct to say that an individual life begins at conception.”[4] Furthmore, Dr. Alfred M. Bongiovanni, professor of obstetrics at the University of Pennsylvania says, “I have learned from my earliest medical education that human life begins at the time of conception. . . . [H]uman life is present throughout this entire sequence from conception to adulthood. . . . [Any] interruption at any point throughout this time constitutes a termination of human life.”[5] Lastly, Randy Alcorn writes,
At eighteen days after conception the heart is forming and eyes start to develop. By twenty-one days the heart pumps blood throughout the body. By twenty-eight days the unborn has budding arms and legs. By thirty days [the baby] has a brain and has multiplied in size ten thousand times.
By thirty-five days her mouth, ears, and nose are taking shape. At forty days the preborn child’s brain waves can be recorded, and her heartbeat, which began three weeks earlier, can be detected by an ultrasonic stethoscope. By forty-two days [the baby’s] skeleton is formed and [their] brain is controlling the movement of muscles and organs.[6]
Science is clear—abortion ends a human life, created in the image of God. Alcorn again is helpful, arguing that as you look through Scripture, what you see is that personhood was never predicated upon “age, stage of development, or mental, physical, or social skills. Personhood is endowed by God…at the moment of conception.”[7] In Scripture, such as Lev. 18:21, Deut. 19:10, 2 Kgs. 24:3-4, Ps. 72:12-14, and Prov. 6: 16-17, we learn that God hates the shedding of innocent blood. Also, the grand narrative of Scripture shows us how God loves children and that his people should care for the orphans (Lk. 18:16, Ex 22:22; Ps 146:9; Isa 1:17; Jam 1:27). We cannot ignore or be silent about abortion.
2. Encourage Adoption
As John Piper writes, “The deepest and strongest foundation of adoption is located not in the act of humans adopting humans, but in God adopting humans. . . . It is at the heart of the gospel.” He goes on to say,
There are huge costs in adopting children. Some are financial; some are emotional. There are costs in time and stress for the rest of your life. You never stop being a parent till you die. And the stresses of caring about adult children can be as great, or greater, than the stresses of caring for young children. There is something very deep and right about the embrace of this cost for the life of a child!
Few things bring me more satisfaction than seeing a culture of adoption flourish [as a church]. It means that our people are looking to their heavenly Father for their joy rather than rejecting the stress and cost of children in order to maximize their freedom and comforts. When people embrace the pain and joy of children rather than using abortion or birth control simply to keep children away, the worth of Christ shines more visibly. Adoption is as far as possible from the mindset that rejects children as an intrusion. Praise God for people ready to embrace the suffering—known and unknown. God’s cost to adopt us was infinitely greater than any cost we will endure in adopting and raising children.
Aside from marriage, what better way to live out the gospel story? Foster a culture where adopting children is encouraged, whether orphans, from broken homes, or unexpected pregnancies. Welcome these children into a new family, with a new name, and give them unconditional love and full acceptance. Adoption is a way to display the better story of life, one under the reign of Jesus, one in which there’s no “unwanted” children. Ask God to raise up men and women who would adopt children and raise them in families who love the Lord.
3. Drive Home Hope
As children of God, we have the undeserved privilege of calling God “Father” and this God who adopted us, to paraphrase John Piper, hasn’t just brought us into his family, but has brought us into his arms. Abortion can cause shame that has lasting effects on the women. It can also cause guilt for men who stood idly by instead of taking responsibility for the life they helped create. Listen to their stories. Be slow to speak and slow to spout off stock answers. As rapper Trip Lee says, “Keep all your anecdotes and cute quotes / I’ll pass on clichés for true hopes.” When men and women who are reeling from the effects of abortion feel like they have no place to go, the church should be a place where they are welcomed with open arms.
The gospel should be a reality that changes the culture of our churches. People won’t see the gospel as good news if we don’t actually live like it really is. If Christ welcomed all sorts of sinners into his midst and welcomed prodigals and Pharisees into his family, what does that say about how our church should welcome those who are considering an abortion, have had abortions, or have performed abortions? No one is beyond the grace of God and the gospel can set people free from even the strongest bondage to sin. Lavish grace and mercy upon them and show them how, in Christ, they are not their sin. We point them to the Savior who gives rest and takes their burdens on himself (Matt. 11:28-30). To be pro-life means being pro-resurrection life as well, an eschatological life that proclaims the reign of King Jesus, a good king who will “will wipe away every tear from their eyes” and where, in his kingdom, “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore.” Abortion does not have the last word. Shout hope from the rooftops.
Through God’s work of creation, the church champions being made in the image of God and the value of human life. Through the gospel, we not only maintain the value of human life, but seek to proclaim the restoration of it, even if you ended someone else’s. Let the gospel bring the healing it can, showing and proclaiming to families affected by abortions and to abortion clinic doctors and staff members that “if the Son sets free you will be free indeed” (Jn. 8:36). And no amount of shame or guilt is too powerful for that kind of love and grace.
[1] Margaret Sanger, Woman and the New Race (Kessinger Publishing, Whitefish, MT, 2010).
[2] Margaret Sanger, “A Plan for Peace” in Birth Control Review, April 1932, 108.
[3] Margaret Sanger, Woman, Morality, and Birth Control (New York: New York Publishing Company, 1922), 12.
[4] Quoted in Randy Alcorn, Why Pro-Life?: Revised and Updated (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishing, 2012), 14.
[5] Ibid., 13.
[6] Ibid., 17.
[7] Ibid., 132.
—
Chris Crane is a Th.M. student in Historical and Systematic Theology at Dallas Theological Seminary. He previously served in various church ministries around Dallas, TX and in campus ministries with Dallas Baptist University. He is a freelance writer and occasional blogger at chriscrane.net. You can follow him on Twitter @cmcrane87.
3 Essentials of Discipleship According to Herman Bavinck
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature, and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series:
- 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children
- 4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
- 3 Counter-Cultural Lessons from Elisabeth Elliot
- 2 Principles for Living Free from J. R. R. Tolkien
- 4 Convictions for Boldness from John Knox
—
You probably haven't read much, if anything, by Herman Bavinck. I hadn't either, but after hearing what impact he had on some ministers that I deeply respected, I decided to take the plunge and purchase his seminal masterpiece, Reformed Dogmatics, a four-volume, 3000-page collection that was translated into English only seven years ago. As I finish reading through the last of the four volumes, I now treasure Bavinck’s Reformed Dogmatics as an essential piece of my library. I have gleaned a wealth of learning from Bavinck and I know I'll return to these again and again throughout my ministry. Even if you are familiar with Bavinck's work, many are tempted to view him as only a systematician, doctrinal explanation without application. My aim is to not merely draw your attention to a man worthy of it, but also to show that we can learn much from Bavinck in terms of how we apply these critical teachings in our lives as we pursue a historically rooted discipleship.
The Preface of Discipleship: God's Revelation
Our quest for discovering the depths of discipleship through Herman Bavinck's eyes starts with a focus on God's revelation. Oftentimes, especially in systematic treatments of theology, revelation is placed at the forefront, serving as a sort of apologetic. After all, if God can or does not reveal himself generally and specially, what argument is there for him? This point certainly should be emphasized, especially for the unbeliever. Yet, in our approach to thinking about God's general and special revelation, we face the temptation of limiting its importance to only the unbeliever. We feel like revelation must be talked about only for the sake of those who need to be convinced of its reality, and it is often treated in such a way that Bible-believing Christians are exempted from the discussion. But "general revelation," Bavinck observes, "has meaning not only for the pagan world but also in and for the Christian religion."1
The primary Greek word for disciple is mathetes, which means "a learner." If we can reduce the concept of God's revelation to knowing, we can reduce the concept of Christian discipleship to learning. Bavinck connects the task of discipleship with the function of revelation here:
"Now special revelation has recognized and valued general revelation, has even taken it over and, as it were, assimilated it. And this is also what the Christian does, as do the theologians. They position themselves in the Christian faith, in special revelation, and from there look out upon nature and history. And now they discover there as well the traces of the God whom they learned to know in Christ as their father."2
Discipleship starts with revelation, because it is in that moment that we are "equipped with the spectacles of Scripture" and thus "see God in everything and everything in God." Revelation does not only help the Christian "feel at home in the world," but also gives Christians "a firm foundation on which they can meet all non-Christians."3 Revelation is critical to our foundation as disciples of Christ.
One last word from Bavinck on how discipleship finds its origins in revelation:
“The purpose of revelation is not Christ; Christ is the center and the means; the purpose is that God will again dwell in his creatures and reveal his glory in the cosmos...In a sense this, too, is an incarnation of God.”4
While Christ is the ultimate instrument of revelation, the highest purpose of revelation itself is that God may be glorified by dwelling with his people. As we will see, once the revelation of God captivates the heart of the believer, not only can the journey of discipleship begin, but also the horizon of its purpose will come more plainly into view.
The Purpose of Discipleship: Union With Christ
If you went to one hundred Bible-believing, evangelical Christians and asked them to define "discipleship," you'd likely get one hundred unique answers. Because of its broad scope, everyone's definition may look and sound slightly different. As we examined earlier, discipleship at its core is learning. Here's my imperfect stab at a more broad, yet succinct definition: Discipleship is a faithful striving towards the heart of God and the love of man. This idea is summed up well by Luther's famous charge, "Love God and do what you will." Ephesians 4:1-6 is a perennial passage for determining what discipleship looks like. Paul's words in these verses can be rightly narrowed to two: love and unity. Paul is not only helping us to understand the importance of love and unity in the body, but ultimately, love and unity to Christ. This is the entire purpose, the entire hinge on which the door of discipleship opens or closes.
Maybe your proof-text of a lifestyle of discipleship is summed up as "walking in the Spirit" (Rom. 8:4). Maybe it's becoming "a new creation" (2 Cor. 5:17). Maybe it's Galatians 2:20, or Ephesians 2:5, or 1 John 4:13, or another. What Bavinck would argue is that all of these verses, among others, have one similar aim or goal: union with Christ. In a section called Becoming Spiritual Persons, Bavinck proves his point from a slew of verses, all of which ironically written by Paul:
"The new life is the life of the Spirit but just as much the life of Christ in us (Rom. 6:8, 23; Gal. 2:20; Col. 3:4; Phil. 1:21). Believers have been crucified, have died, been buried and raised, set at God's right hand, and glorified with Christ (Rom. 6:4ff.; Gal. 2:20; 6:14; Eph. 2:6; Col. 2:12, 20; 3:3; etc.). They have put on Christ, have been formed in his likeness, reveal in their bodies the suffering as well as the life of Christ, and are perfected in him. In a word, "Christ is all and in all" (Rom. 13:14; 2 Cor. 13:11; Gal. 4:19; Col. 1:24; 2:10; 3:11), and they are "one spirit with him" (1 Cor. 6:17). In Christ, by the Spirit, God himself dwells in them (1 Cor. 3:16-17; 6:19)."5
Bavinck's understanding of Pauline theology is that at the heart of every hint of discipleship is a motivation to be united with Christ. If God is going to accomplish his highest purposes of revelation, dwelling in his creatures and revealing his glory, we must set before ourselves in our journey of discipleship this sole intention of union with Christ.
If union with Christ is a fundamental of discipleship, it cannot be something we achieve by our own volition. "Union with Christ is not the result of human decision, striving, seeking, yielding, or surrendering, but of Christ's."6 This is what Paul meant in Ephesians 2:20 when he calls believers "[God's] workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." We do not walk alone. We do not earn his love through measuring up. His grace has perfectly covered our transgressions, and because we belong to the true vine, we are therefore branches who produce fruit.
Not only this, but being united with Christ means the Spirit is empowering and enabling us for His glory. "The spirit . . . poured out in the church is not only a Spirit of adoption, who assures believers of their status as children, but also the Spirit of renewal and sanctification."7 Oftentimes our view of discipleship is strictly limited to what we do and how we do it. When we think about the journey, all that often comes to mind is our Bible reading habits, our prayer life, our evangelism opportunities . . . all of these are discipleship, but discipleship is more than all these things. Bavinck places a great deal of emphasis on the work of the Triune God in our lives, taking us beyond what we do and onto what God is doing. Dead men cannot raise themselves, but united to the resurrected Jesus, he has no problem restoring what's broken. Unloving attitudes become Spirit-enabled love (1 Cor. 13). Formless groans become Spirit-articulated thoughts (Rom. 8:26-27). Remarkably, after the end of his letter to the church at Thessalonica, after Paul gives them plenty of practical tips and charges for how to grow in sanctification (5:12-22), he says in the following verse, "May the God of peace himself sanctify you completely" (5:23). Paul and Bavinck both recognize the ultimate purpose of discipleship is not only being united to Christ, but letting him move in and through us.
The Process of Discipleship: Ordinary Obedience
So we've got some principles for discipleship in our pockets now, but how do we actually implement this stuff in our lives? Discipleship is often seen as a tiered system, where those who courageously live in bold, radical situations for the gospel are elevated above simple professions of faith. John Bolt fabulously labors to explore this idea deeper in his new book, Bavinck on the Christian Life: Following Jesus in Faithful Service. Bolt discusses Bavinck's disapproval of this celebration of only striving for or trying to live out acts of "radical discipleship." The most radical thing we can do, according to Bavinck, is being faithfully obedient to God with ordinary simplicity. This is true "radical discipleship," and arguably, more extreme and "heroic" than a life spent selling all possessions, taking vows of silence, and so forth. Bavinck elaborates in The Certainty of Faith:
"Nowadays we are out to convert the whole world, to conquer all areas of life for Christ. But we often neglect to ask whether we ourselves are truly converted and whether we belong to Christ in life and in death. For this is indeed what life boils down to. We may not banish this question from our personal or church life under the label of pietism or methodism. What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, even for Christian principles, if he loses his own soul?"9
If the summary of discipleship is to learn, we have been commissioned by Christ to go and make learners. But in what way will such people learn? Are we going to win souls to the gospel with scientific defenses of God alone? Do we win people with personal and character attacks, or endless banter back-and-forth on social media? Discipleship is first and foremost ordinary obedience. Making disciples, then, is letting others see the ordinary obedience of Jesus in our lives, and showing them how the same can be true of them. Some may think this is an oversimplification; but in a culture warring as hard as ever at Christianity "dying to self and taking up our cross" is becoming a practice less and less about heroism and more about holding fast to him in the small and insignificant. Even Jesus's exceptional acts of death and resurrection are truthfully simple, unflashy acts of obedience to the Father. More from Bavinck:
"All work which man undertakes in order to subdue the earth, whether agriculture, stock breeding, commerce, industry, science, or the rest, is all the fulfillment of a single Divine calling. But if man is really to be and remain such he must proceed in dependence on and in obedience to the Word of God. Religion must be the principle which animates the whole of life and which sanctifies it into a service of God."10
Bavinck makes discipleship simple: By God's revelation, we become true disciples by being united to Christ and thus equipped by the Spirit for the extraordinary life of ordinary obedience.
This Dutch Reformed theologian may not be a marquee name (yet) among evangelicals, but if you want to learn the essentials of the Christian life, look no further.
1 Bavinck, Herman. Reformed Dogmatics. Baker Academic, Grand Rapids, 2003. I.320.
2 ibid. I.321
3 ibid.
4 ibid. I.380
5 ibid. IV.89
6 Horton, Michael. "Union With Christ." Accessed September 23, 2015, at http://www.monergism.com/thethreshold/articles/questions/horton/union.html
7 Bavinck, Herman. Reformed Dogmatics. Baker Academic, Grand Rapids, 2003. IV.251.
8 Bolt, John. Bavinck on the Christian Life: Following Jesus in Faithful Service. Crossway, Wheaton, 2015. 44-47.
9 Bavinck, Herman. The Certainty of Faith. Paideia Press, Ontario, 1980. 94.
10 Bavinck, Herman. The Origin, Essence, and Purpose of Man. Accessed September 23 at http://www.the-highway.com/origin_Bavinck.html
—
Zach Barnhart (@zachbarnhart) currently serves as a church planting intern with Fellowship Church in Knoxville, Tennessee and is pursuing pastoral ministry. He is a college graduate from Middle Tennessee State University and lives in Knoxville with his wife, Hannah. He is a blogger, contributor to For The Church and Servants of Grace, and manages a devotional/podcast at Cultivated.
Introducing Our New Staff Writers
GCD had two two goals this year: consistent quality and diversity in perspectives. Our desire is to see a growing ministry that helps churches equip the saints for the work of ministry. We want the content to have a consistency in the quality of writing, theological thought, and robust application. GCD is also as committed as ever to helping new writers grow through opportunities and the editing process. To do this, we have created a solid core of writers who are able to demonstrate the quality we are looking for.
Along those same lines we want to become a diverse representation of theology and practice in discipleship. This means we want to have a regular writers who engage unique topics, approaches, and themes. This goes along with our goal to promote different voices. Too often sites become an echo chamber of theology, practice and, homogeneous contexts. That’s why we have created a staff writer team that has excellency in writing but also diversity of perspective.
We’ve already started to form this team and we’ve seen growth in these areas already. Our staff writers video chat monthly to engage and sharpen each others’ ideas then each contributes two articles a month. This collaboration has already produced a few great writing series—first our series on the Gospel of Matthew in August and our currently running Family History of Discipleship series.
Our current Staff Writer team consists of four fantastic writers:
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.
You can read all of Jason’s articles here.
Chelsea Vaughn has served a ministry she helped start in the DFW Metroplex since she graduated from college. She received her undergraduate degree at Dallas Baptist University in Communication Theory. She does freelance writing, editing, and speaking for various organizations and non-profits. She hopes to spend her life using her gift for communication to reach culture and communities with the love of Jesus.
You can read all of Chelsea’s article here.
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.
You can read all of Whitney’s articles here.
Jeremy Writebol has been training leaders in the church for over fourteen years. He is the author of everPresent: How the Gospel Relocates Us in the Present (GCD Books, 2014) and writes at jwritebol.net. He is the pastor of Woodside Bible Church’s Plymouth, MI campus.
You can read all of Jeremy’s articles here.
—
Brad Watson serves as a pastor of Bread&Wine Communities where he develops and teaches leaders how to form communities that love God and serve the city. Brad is the author of Raised? and Called Together: A Guide to Forming Missional Communities. He lives in southeast Portland with his wife and their two daughters. You can read more from Brad at www.bradawatson.com
Diligently Teaching Our Children to Spot Counterfeit Gods
I have a friend who works in the banking industry, and as he was training I was fascinated by a particular story that he shared with me. He was sitting in the training room and his manager began to lay twenty-dollar bills on the table. As he laid them down he looked up and asked, "Which one is a counterfeit?" My friend carefully examined the bills and chose one. He chose the wrong one. The manager picked the bills up and began to teach him how to spot the counterfeit bill. This happened everyday until he could spot the counterfeit within seconds. Likewise, we must train our children so well that they can spot the counterfeit gods that our society invites them to serve within seconds. These brazen invitations to serve counterfeit gods are the reason our children need to be trained just like my friend who works in the bank.
Teach Them Diligently
These are the words of God in Deuteronomy 6:
Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. –Deuteronomy 6:4-9
When we think about raising children, these words from God come quickly to mind. God commands believing parents to raise their children diligently.
"You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise."
This training is a lifestyle and you must teach it to your children.
We must answer the question, "Why?" Why do we need to be teaching this to our children? It is quite simple—because as believing parents, we are the primary means of discipleship in our family. God tells us to teach our children diligently and that is exactly what we must do. Besides, as you may have figured out, this command has many practical implications for your life and your children.
God is very clear in why he commands his people to train their children up in the way they should go; because when they go into the land that he has promised them, there will be counterfeit gods and they will be tempted to go and worship them! Well, we know that the only God that must be worshipped is the Lord and he is a jealous God for his people (Deut. 6:15). He demands we worship him and him alone (Exod. 20:1-6).
My mind immediately goes to Galatians as Paul warns those believers not to turn to a "different gospel" (Gal. 1:6). Well as frankly as I can put it, believers are finding their children turning to a different gospel and falling into the temptations from its counterfeit gods because we have not followed the command from Deuteronomy 6 to diligently teach our children.
More times than not I hear parents say, "I'm just going to let my child be a child. They don't need to worry about things like homosexuality or abortion until they're out of college."
This response is oblivious at best because everything that surrounds them in life pushes them to counterfeit gods and their “gospels.” Our children are pushed by the media to care more about Brady's deflated footballs than the devaluation of human life. Their schools teach them that it's foolish to believe in God and that only science should be trusted . I could go on and on about how our world is telling our kids to run far away from God and into a different gospel of false love and acceptance—where anything goes and God does not exist.
Three Common Counterfeit Gods
As a youth director, I regularly encounter these three counterfeit gods: the counterfeit god of choice, the counterfeit god of sex, and the counterfeit god of acceptance.
First, our children are being proselytized by the god of choice. This is the idea that they are entitled to live life the way they see fit. This counterfeit god’s gospel proclaims that how they and others choose to live their lives is no one's business. There is no absolute truth; there are no rules for life only whatever they see as right. Jesus rebukes this counterfeit god by saying, "Sanctify them in the truth, your word is truth" (Jn. 17:17). The Word of God is the only absolute truth. The Word of God tells us what is right and points us to Jesus. Many today see the Word of God as binding them, but the Psalmist David exclaims that the Word of God makes the believer's paths wide (Ps. 119). The Word of God is where our children will find their perfect joy and peace in this life, and ultimately, Christ prays that his people will be sanctified by it.
Second, our children are being proselytized by the god of sex. We live in a culture that glorifies sex without consequence. The television shows, the movies, and the music that surrounds our children shove a sexual lifestyle that carries no future weight in their lives. Our children see this bogus glorified lifestyle and they begin to desire to live their lives this way. This counterfeit gods gospels proclaims that they know what true love is and a rampant pornography industry says they know what sex is designed to be. Our children fall into this trap time and time again. The gospel counters this counterfeit god by reminding believers that their bodies are temples of God and that sexual immorality should not be named among believers (Eph. 5:3). Jesus is clear in his definition of marriage and beyond that definition is against the will of God (Mark 10:6-9).
Last, our children are being proselytized by the god of acceptance. As our children fall into the lies of counterfeit gods, so do their friends. As their friends begin to believe a different gospel, they proclaim the gospel of acceptance and urge our children to follow suit in esteeming the opinion and acceptance of man above the one true God. What does the true gospel proclaim? Our reward for faithfulness is in heaven (Matt. 5:12). Our children must live a life that is always ready for eternal life and able to say, "Come Lord Jesus, Come quickly, Amen" (Rev. 22).
So, as parent's, how do we disciple our children, and stop this constant sliding into a lifestyle that is led astray by these counterfeit gods? We must teach our children that the only way to discern what is important in our world is to look at what is important to Jesus. We must teach our children how to spot counterfeit gods and different gospels.
And this must start at the home! Parents must diligently disciple their children in the faith once delivered. Parents, you spend the most time with your children and you must be intentional about raising them up in the faith so that they will not be like the house built upon the sand that falls when faced with the great storms of life (Matt. 7:24-27).
Two Means to Recognize the Counterfeits
I think we have two primary means to disciple our children:
1. Go to Church Regularly as a Family
I do not know of a better place to have your children other than in the church—where we are called to worship in the very presence of God. They will be accustomed to hearing the Word preached, the sacraments being practiced, and prayers being made. These aspects of worship are the primary ways by which our God pours out grace upon his people. Parents, why would we not want our children in church? For children to see their parents worshipping God, to see them fellowship with other believers, and to see them serve the church faithfully—there is no greater training that you can give!
If you worship God together in the church fifty times every year over the course of your child’s life, they will have heard and seen the gospel over 600 times. Don’t miss these opportunities. Families who worship in the church together help to counter the current trend in our culture because when you know what true worship looks like on Sunday, you can truly worship rightly on Monday through Saturday.
2. Worship with Your Family at Home.
Because family worship is often neglected in the church, it is a practice I’m intentional about promoting to the children and families I help shepherd. How can we obey Deuteronomy 6 without setting aside time for family worship? If your children see God being glorified in the home, if they see their parents living out their worship that takes place on Sunday morning through the rest of the week, and if they feel encouraged to live their life for Christ, they will be more prepared to boldly stand for their faith outside of the home when the time comes.
Parents, it is not good enough to live for Christ on Sunday morning and not the rest of the week because your child will grow up and do exactly the same thing. These two practices go hand-in-hand. Our worship on Sunday flows into our family worship throughout the week. We worship in our churches, the benediction is proclaimed and the service ends, and now we are sent out into the world. However, discipleship cannot end there. We must worship in our homes so that as the counterfeit gods of our culture assault our children they instinctually recall what we have diligently taught them in our churches and in our homes.
Through worshipping together on Sunday mornings and worshipping throughout the week in the home, our children will have been in the presence of God so much that they know exactly how these counterfeit gods look and their response will be to flee from them. Parents, disciple your children. Make going to church a habit and worship regularly together, in your church and in your home. Teach your children diligently. It's vital for your family and our culture. Now the time to take Deuteronomy 6 seriously.
—
Matthew D. Adams is the Director of Youth and Family Ministries at First Presbyterian Church, PCA in Dillon, SC. He is currently a Master's of Divinity student at Erskine Theological Seminary in Columbia, SC. He lives in a small town by the name of Hamer, SC and is married to Beth. Follow him on twitter @Matt_Adams90.
Idolatry: A Fatal Attraction | Part 1
I was just a young boy when it first happened. Gazing out the window of our sedan, my heart leaped when I saw a cityscape scuff the sky. I was mesmerized. Growing up in small-town southeast Missouri, the tallest building I had ever seen was our town’s three-story red brick high school. Now in my purview was a gray jungle spattering the horizon, with yellow lights placed perfectly like stickers in rows. Bright lights, big city.
The jutting skyscrapers and surrounding city felt like Oz. But unlike the movie where this magical land was just a dream, this was real. And this material city had a certain allure to it. One that I haven’t been able to get away from since. Looking upon the urban panorama as a child, I had no need to click my heels. I was home. It had captivated me. Why?
Underneath the awe, it promised me something that I thought I wanted—fulfillment, significance, worth. Even as a young boy, those yearnings were there. And the city tugged those yearnings.
All of us could make a short list of the things that have caught our fancy. But many of us could take that same list and wax eloquently about how things have failed to deliver what they pledged. That’s the problem with allurement. All that glitters really isn’t gold. Sometimes our magnetisms are just gold-plated rubbish.
The Charm of Idolatry
The Bible calls our misguided pursuits of what charms us idolatry.
And we aren’t talking golden calves here either. As a Christian, idolatry is anything that supplants God in my life with a lesser god. It’s an inverted move of the soul. When our hearts engage in idolatry, we have to ask ourselves the question that the Avett Brothers sing: “Are we growing backwards with time?”
Theologian Doug Stuart masterfully explains idolatry’s attraction in Exodus: An Exegetical and Theological Exposition of Holy Scripture (The New American Commentary). He says there are a few things in an idol’s appeal:
Idolatry obliges: Fashion your god out of stone or wood or precious metals and a god would enter the idol. No need to wait on a god to answer your prayers anymore. Summon him and get what you want without delay.
Idolatry gratifies: The motive of idol worship was to get what you needed, when you needed it. It was entirely centered on the person seeking — not the one being sought.
Idolatry numbs: Ancient idolatry took the place of fervent spirituality. It stimulated vain religious hullabaloo. It anesthetized individuals because what kept you good with the gods was not relational but sacrificial. Bring your gods a scapegoat for your sin and you were exonerated.
Idolatry indulges: Find a divinity that meets your needs and bow down to it. Or better, find a few idols that meets your specific desires and worship them. The glut of deities available created a smorgasbord approach to spirituality. And why not? One God over all? Hogwash, they would say. Find whatever works for you.
Idolatry reassures: Worshiping an invisible deity was not comforting. A god you could see — now that was the ticket. Tangible divinities make more sense, don’t they? Surely, the gods would want us to see them instead of placing our faith in the unseen.
Idolatry impresses: With an invisible deity, it was almost impossible to astonish your fellow man with your sacrifices. An unseen God who looks at the heart — above all else — has no usefulness in vain, repetitious activities. But bring a costly sacrifice to a lifeless idol? It was a sight to behold. And the bigger the sacrifice, the bigger the show.
It’s easy to see what the central “thing” is in idolatry. It’s not the wooden or golden deity esteemed. It’s actually us. It’s the individual. Our personage is principal when we chase after blessing. We are the “blesser” and the blessed—we fashion divinity for our own sake.
The Fatal Attraction
So what’s the big deal? The raw truth about replacement gods is that they don’t deliver. The illusion of interim happiness is just that—a mirage. Therein we find the treadmill we all run on.
We run from one promising oasis to another only to find its promise evaporates before our eyes. But we are so desperate to belong, to be loved, to feel significant, to feel secure, the never-ending hunt overtakes us. Before we know it, we are knee-deep in our own despondency scanning the horizon for something new that allures. Something novel that will once-and-for-all deliver the goods.
In its truest sense, idolatry is a fatal attraction. It’s not that it literally kills us in an instant (although, I guess it could in some instances). It is more a slow slink backwards within the soul. It’s the actuality of the question the Avett Brothers sing about: “Are we growing backwards with time?” We are. And it’s more than “growing” backwards—we are “dying” backwards. It’s a dawdling succession of little deaths, decision by decision, day after day.
Pastor and author Greg Dutcher says it this way:
Idolatry . . . is not a showboat. It does its best to work in subtle ways. Like a puma lying low in the gentle grass, taut muscles held in place like a coiled spring, sin waits in the “safest” of places. . . it waits patiently for a chance to creep in unaware.
That is why it’s a fatal attraction. We are typically naive to its creep. And at the right time, it pounces on our insecurity. It ambushes our anxiety. It attacks our uneasiness.
The good news is that there is a new way to be human. We can reverse our worship and find what is behind the delusion of our self-made gods. But first, we need a deep diagnosis. It’s one thing to understand the category of idolatry. It’s another to isolate what deity (or deities) you bow down to.
—
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.
4 Convictions for Boldness from John Knox
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature, and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series:
- 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children
- 4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
- 3 Counter-Cultural Lessons from Elisabeth Elliot
- 2 Principles for Living Free from J. R. R. Tolkien
—
John Knox was born in Haddington, c. 1514, though admittedly there is some debate on the exact date. We do know that Knox was born into a poorer family with not a lot of resources. Upon completion (another point of historical contention) of University in 1536, Knox was ordained as a priest. By 1543 he was converted to Christ after a couple of years working as a tutor and notary. While not much is known regarding the context of his conversion, so began the journey of the man who would thunder the gospel in a dark Scotland.
As a pastor, I am intrigued by the life of John Knox and taken back by the trials he persevered through. For example, in 1546, the French took the castle at St. Andrews and the aftermath led to Knox’s enslavement for 19 months. Yet Knox persevered. Eventually he went back to England to preach the gospel during one of the more difficult times of English history.
While history is undoubtedly under the control of the sovereignty of God, Knox would contend with both the religious establishment (fighting against Anglican formalism in worship and Roman Catholicism) as well as the civil establishment. The latter contention would escalate when in 1553, Mary Tudor (“Blood Mary”) would rise to power after King Edward VI died. Knox lived in a time of political uncertainty—something we can learn from indeed.
As God would have it, Knox fled to Geneva in 1554 where he developed a friendship with John Calvin. Knox would visit Geneva several times, but in 1559 returned to Scotland to pastor at St. Giles, Edinburgh. From there Knox wrote, taught, preached, and fought for the gospel, eventually dying in 1572. You can find his grave underneath a parking lot at St. Giles Church today.
1. Power of Prayer
It is said that Mary, Queen of the Scots, feared the prayers of John Knox more than the assembled armies of Europe. Though weak in stature, the Reformer was a man broken before the Lord. He was a humble man who trusted not in himself but in the greatness of God. Prayer is a sure and steady sign that reads, “God is really great and powerful, I am not.” Knox was this type of man.
From his rough childhood, run-ins with various Cardinals and Bishops, to his time in captivity and on the run—Knox knew that in the midst of all these circumstances that he had to commit himself to the Lord. And what better way is there to do so than through communion with him in prayer? A humbled soul is a prayerful soul.
Perhaps one of the most telling aspects of Knox’s prayer life was his ability to pray in defense of the gospel and pray for his enemies. A prayer for Queen Mary is worth noting,
Behold our troubles and apparent destruction, and stay the sword of the thy vengeance before it devour us. Place above us, O Lord, for thy great mercies’ sake, such a head, with such rulers and magistrates, as fear thy name, and will the glory of Christ Jesus to spread. Take not from us the light of thy Evangel, and suffer no papistry to prevail in this realm. Illuminate the heart of our sovereign lady, Queen Mary, with pregnant gifts of thy Holy Ghost, and inflame the hearts of her counsel with thy true fear and love.[1]
The prayers of John Knox were answered no different than our prayers today. In some circumstances, the Lord grants our requests according to his sovereign will. In other cases, the prayer is not answered. Either way, our God is the Lord and he knows what is best.
The power of prayer lies not within the sinner but the Savior. Getting this order right for discipleship is crucial. The disciple of Jesus is to be a man committed solely to the glory of God through a prayer life marked by a humble posture and persevering spirit. Such was the great Scottish Reformer.
2. Necessity of Conviction
John Knox was man with conviction running through his veins. Much like the Apostle Paul who “[proclaimed] the kingdom of God and [taught] about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance,”[2] Knox believed in both the grace and severity of God. His prayers, preaching, writing, and actions all aligned in a such a way as to demonstrate the reality that conviction is necessary if reformation is desired.
Perhaps one of my favorite pictures in history is a painting of John Knox preaching before Queen Mary and her council that was drafted in such a way as to demonstrate the conviction that poured through the life of Knox. Towering in the pulpit above the crowd, Knox thundered the gospel to the magistrates present. As D. Martin Lloyd-Jones has pointed out, Knox was a man with “astounding energy,” “shrewdness,” and “courage.”[3] His ability to discern, press on, and courageously preach the gospel was rooted in his conviction that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that his crown rights must be acknowledged by all nations, especially his beloved Scotland.
Knox saw compromise and darkness in his homeland. It was in poor condition and immersed in moral decadence. What is someone to do in a situation like this? Have conviction. The world could use more conviction. For disciples of Jesus, conviction is a prerequisite, which is why Paul told Titus that an elder “must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it” (Titus 1:9). Disciples who make disciples must be men and women who are committed to standing on the truth of God’s Word convicted to the deepest parts of our souls that Christ is King and that his gospel is sufficient. Nothing short of all-out commitment to raising the banner of Christ crucified will suffice.
3. Priority of Preaching
At one point in Knox’s young life, he didn’t want to preach. In fact, when he was confronted about this issue, it is said that he left the room in tears, buckling under the weight of the task. For Knox, preaching was an incredibly large task, not because the preacher was anything special, but because the message was so precious.
During Knox’s young life, preaching wasn’t the focus in the Roman Catholic Church. After his conversion, his chaplaincy at St. Andrews proved an opportunity for him to teach. Knox feared the pulpit, but not because the message wasn’t powerful to transform, or because he could never do it—no, the fear was the weight of its importance. It was of utmost importance which meant it must be done soberly.
His zeal for the gospel led to his power in the pulpit. Like a man wielding a sword in battle, so was Knox in the pulpit with the Bible. He didn’t shy away from cutting through the stone hearts of people with the truth of the sinfulness of man and the holiness of God and offering those same sinners hope in the gospel. Christ was the focus of his preaching because Christ was the focus of his life.
“When Knox stepped into the pulpit to preach the Word of God, he opened with a half hour of calm exposition of the text before him. Thereafter, he became more vigorous.”[4] The Bible was a priority for Knox because the gospel was the priority of the church. It was this prioritizing of the gospel that fueled the fire that came from Knox. That fire led to the Spirit of God working in the lives of many people.
As disciples, we must commit ourselves to preaching. Like Knox, we must see it as the priority because God uses the foolishness of ourselves and the cross as the means by which He saves sinners. Knox’s example here is worth our consideration. Do we truly value preaching? Are we humble in our approach to this daunting task? Do we really believe that the preaching of God’s word is enough?
4. Need for Perseverance
We are in desperate need of perseverance. Some say desperate times call for desperate measures—we might say desperate times call for faithful measures. Without perseverance, which is a repeated theme throughout Scripture, discipleship falls flat.
The life of John Knox briefly outlined above demonstrates quite clearly that 1) Most of us haven’t walked through the things he did, and 2) We have no excuse for choosing to abandon the mission of God. Knox trusted in the sovereignty of God believing that God writes the story of history and he does so with us as his characters. He had a big God and big theology to boot. No doubt there were times of deep sorrow for the great Reformer—indeed there are plenty of times of sorrow for each of us!—but let us learn this last thing from Knox: Perseverance is water we drink during the times of seemingly unending fiery trials.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” –Hebrews 12:1-2
Jesus endured for us so we in turn endure because of and for him. He gives strength. He gives wisdom. He gives conviction. He gives courage. He gives righteousness. Christ gives hope. Oh how prone we are to wander! God, grant your servants an unending supply of perseverance!
Follow Knox As He Follows Christ
Knox is a man worth emulating. While no stranger to controversy, Knox was committed to the kingdom of God first and foremost. Like today’s culture, Scotland was a religious wasteland. Everyone did whatever was right in his own eyes. Knox reformed Scotland because the gospel light was dim. Though several hundreds years from our context, we can learn a lot from Knox. Knox had a sense of urgency—to make the gospel known everywhere. That, after all, is the heart of a disciple.
We don’t look to John Knox because he was great in and of himself. We don’t look to John Knox, we look to Jesus Christ, the King who John Knox served. We learn from this humble servant of history how to follow someone who is following Christ (1 Cor. 11:1). May the Church in America never lose hope, but instead cling so dearly to the gospel of King Jesus that John Knox so fervently clung to.
[1] John Knox, The Select Practical Writings of John Knox (Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2011), 25.
[2] Acts 28:31, emphasis mine.
[3] See: D. M. Lloyd-Jones and Iain H. Murray, John Knox and the Reformation (Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2011).
[4] Douglas Bond, The Mighty Weakness of John Knox (Sanford: Reformation Trust Publishing, 2011), 55.
—
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.
Do We Worship Words or The Word?
The Bible is an undisputed masterpiece of literature. The authors weave a grand narrative and an intricate plot of love, redemption, and reclamation that has baffling depth. For example, we see how a lamb’s blood spread on a doorpost in Egypt foreshadows Christ’s blood spilled out to declare sinners justified and free from judgment. Or, how a promise to King David around 1,000 B.C. would be fulfilled on a joyous Sunday morning with a resurrected Messiah who now reigns eternally. Or how the Psalmist speaks of the Messiah’s pierced hands and feet, long before the crucifixion happened, perfectly describing what would take place at Golgotha. Technically, we can look at the genius writing style of Isaiah or Luke or Paul and see their use of irony, poetry, logic, and numerous other literary devices, which demonstrate a mastery of language, intertwining and mingling with the themes, imagery, and storyline from writers who preceded them by hundreds of years to develop a fully unified narrative of redemption history. We can see all these things working in conjunction in an unparalleled fashion and see that the complexity and simplicity and beauty of Scripture surpasses any piece of literature the world has ever known. However, we can see and wonder at all these things—yet completely miss the point.
A High View of the Word
In many traditions that hold to a high view of Scripture and its authority such as my own, we are even more susceptible to miss the point. We easily fall into the trap of worshipping the Bible’s stories and authority, but forget who the Bible points us toward. Often, we think of the Bible as the ultimate foundation of our faith; however, when we do so we fashion the Bible into an idol. Tim Keller undresses our tendency to idolatry when he says, “[Idolatry] means turning a good thing into an ultimate thing.” We’re not alone in this tendency. Even Israel turned good things—the temple, tradition, and the law—and made them ultimate—what they worshipped, rather than the God all those things were intended to point them towards. None of these things, the Bible included, is the ultimate foundation of our Christian faith.
Jesus, the Son of God and God himself, is the ultimate foundation and the cornerstone of our faith. When he is pushed aside, even for good things like the Bible, we miss the point and become idolaters. When we worship words instead of the Word we have completely lost the meaning of the Bible.
Most importantly, Jesus Christ deserves every ounce of our devotion and worship. We cannot serve two masters—either Jesus receives all our worship or we slip into idolatry. The Bible is our important, but it cannot usurp from Jesus Christ the role of Master of our lives. Certainly, the Bible is our way of knowing and seeking Christ, but it is a means to an end, not the end himself. Let me give you an example: Have you ever wondered what heaven will be like? Of course you have, we all do! Now, when thinking about heaven have you ever thought to yourself that you cannot wait to be there so you can read your Bible for eternity? I know that I haven’t, not once! In Christ’s Kingdom Jesus will be physically with us, the Word of God living and breathing, and we will dwell in his presence, basking in his glory. We seek the Kingdom of Heaven because it is where his presence is. If we remove the King from the Kingdom and are left with only the Scriptures, what would be the point? To have the best reading for an infinite amount of time?
The Purpose of the Scriptures
In John 5, Jesus deals with this same issue of identifying the purpose of Scripture. He tells his audience, “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me.” Again, as he covertly walked with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, he taught them “beginning at Moses” concerning himself. Why? Because we can read the Scriptures and still not have any idea who Jesus is. To know Scripture but to not know Jesus is a failure.
Jesus is trying to get his audience to understand that the Scriptures point to a person. Someone who lived and walked this earth and felt human emotions and hunger and pain. Someone who shed tears over a dead friend and was amazed at the faith of a soldier despised by Jews. Someone who healed the sick and raised the dead and comforted the oppressed and hurting. Someone named Jesus Christ who desires that all who come humbly to the words of Scripture to know him! He is the ultimate foundation and cornerstone of our faith and the thread that holds the grand narrative together. He is the very reason for Scripture’s inspiration to mankind! So, when the Bible’s stories and wisdom come before Jesus we sell ourselves drastically short of what God intends for us. When this happens, we practice idolatry and, instead of being about Jesus, Scripture becomes a how-to or self-help book. God desires to be known and went to immeasurable lengths for us to know him, and not just to have general ideas, but also to know him personally and intimately. If we are not careful, the Bible can even hurt this relationship.
Life in Christ
If the Bible does not point us to the life that is found in Christ then it is simply empty words on a page. If it does not cause us to confess that Jesus is Lord then it is merely scribbled ink. If it does not point to the Word of God, Jesus Christ, then you may as well place your Bible in the fiction section of your bookshelf and move on to the next thing in your reading list. If it is not God’s word revealing the Word then it is merely idle words. However, since we have a Bible pointing to the life that is found in Christ, that leads sinners to confess Jesus is Lord, and declares that the Word of God has been made flesh and died and rose from the dead, we have reason to treasure it and cling to it as it steers us towards our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We have hope that all the promises God makes in Scripture are “Yes, in Christ!” He is the Living Word, he has fulfilled Scripture in His life, and he shall be forever exalted. Therefore, we worship him and him alone.
—
Mark Hampton is currently pursuing a Master of Divinity degree from Duke Divinity School with a focus in theology and history. He also works as a Graduate Assistant in the America Reads and Counts program at Duke University reaching the schools in Durham, North Carolina to promote education. Outside of school and work he likes to read, cycle, and travel. You can follow him on twitter here: @ma rkismoving
2 Principles for Living Free from J. R. R. Tolkien
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature, and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series:
- 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children
- 4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
- 3 Counter-Cultural Lessons from Elisabeth Elliot
—
Like many during the early twentieth century, John Ronald Ruel Tolkien’s family moved around the globe. His father Arthur was a banker and took a job in South Africa, but tragedy struck the family. After only four years, Arthur Tolkien died. Mabel, his wife, Hillary, his sons, and young John moved back to England where they would stay. Less than ten years later Mabel would die leaving her two sons and daughter to be raised by family and their priest. Early on John showed a unique grasp on linguistics and he even started a literary club the “T. C. B. S.” (Tea Club, Barrovian Society) during his grammar school years.
He followed his passion for language to Exeter College, Oxford where he would go on to spend the majority of his professional career. The first World War interrupted his studies. Many believe his experience in the War forever altered his worldview and informed his later writings especially The Lord of the Rings. After the War was over, he worked in several positions in his field until finally returning to Oxford as a professor of language.
Before his arrival at Oxford, the world of Middle-earth had already started taking form as he had been in continuous work on The Lost Tales as well as an Elvish language. However, while at Oxford, the story goes, while grading papers, he stopped and jotted on one paper, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit”—one of the most memorable lines in literary history. This started Tolkien’s more conscious journey through Middle-earth.
His writing were also influenced by a second literary club he started while at Oxford called The Inklings which included C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, and Neville Coghill to name a few.
While The Hobbit sold well, it wasn’t until The Lord of the Rings that his reputation was launched in earnest. A loyal and passionate following gathered around Tolkien which continues to this day. After his rise to fame and following his death (due in part to his plodding writing pace), many of his more “historical” and often unfinished works were gathered and edited by his son Christopher and published.
It should also be noted that he was a loving husband until the end. One of his most passionate stories Beren and Luthien—a man Beren who loved and wed the elf Luthien—was inspired by his own affection for the love of his life Edith. Their shared tombstone carries the inscription “Luthien” under her name and “Beren” under his. His faith played no small role in the world that he built and so many things can be learned from Tolkien’s Middle-earth, although the lessons may take the skill of a Dwarf to unearth.
PROVIDENCE
The theme of sovereignty must not be underestimated in Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings (TLOR). Sovereignty and providence play major roles in the affairs that we uncover in Tolkien’s major works. Consider the tale of the One Ring. In the second age, the free peoples were laying siege to Mordor and Isildur, the King of Men, cut the One Ring from Sauron’s hand. Against the wishes of Elrond and Círdan, the fallen elf lord Gil-galad’s lieutenants, Isildur keeps the Ring as a family heirloom. Evil befalls Isildur on his journey home when a band of orcs waylay him and the One Ring is consider lost in the great river Anduin.
Long after these events, a hobbit-like creature Sméagol (you may know him as Gollum) possessed the Ring by treachery. He was cast out of his community for using the Ring for evil purposes. He kept it hidden and safe for many years until Bilbo encountered him by “chance” during the tale that began in The Hobbit and “found” the Ring. He carried it to the Lonely Mountain and then back home to Hobbiton where it stayed with him for many years. It was finally discovered that this ring was the One Ring and Gandalf the wizard encouraged Biblo to pass it along to his heir Frodo. That it was freely given is a crucial element to the tale because none had done so before Biblo—and one that didn’t happen by chance.
What’s so amazing in all of this (and we will return to this later) is that creatures so homely, unknown, and small are able to possess the Ring for so long without being destroyed. Even gollum as evil as he is has held up well by all accounts and in TLOR shows glimpses of good in the sometimes humorous dialogue when journeying with Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom. This kind of “luck” in the Ring’s lineage is nothing short of miraculous. Tolkien describes the Ring as having a will bent towards Sauron, but there seems to be something else at work ordering even the evil intent of the Ring.
[Gandalf says,] “Behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought.” The Fellowship of the Rings, Chapter 2 “The Shadow of the Past”
“‘I wish I had never seen the Ring! Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?’ ‘Such questions cannot be answered,’ said Gandalf.” The Fellowship of the Rings, Chapter 2 “The Shadow of the Past”
This providence draws the Ring into the hands of hobbits who are unexpectedly hardy and good-hearted. They remind me of what man and woman were pre-Fall.
Also, TLOR reads much like Esther in the Old Testament. No explicit mention of God but his hand present in every thing. You have bread crumbs of providence, sovereignty, and governance through out TLOR. Here are a few examples drawn from The Fellowship of the Ring and its major chapter concerning the lore of the One Ring. Especially note how the twisted desires of Gollum are turned to good in the end:
[Gandalf says,] “And he [Gollum] is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many – yours not least.” The Fellowship of the Rings, Chapter 2 “The Shadow of the Past” (also, Gandalf emphasizes this later in chapter 11, “But he may play a part yet that neither he nor Sauron have forseen”)
Early on as the hobbits journey out of the Shire, Tom Bombadil rescues them from their first danger by chance:
“At last Frodo spoke: ‘Did you hear me calling, Master, or was it just chance that brought you at that moment?’ Tom stirred like a man shaken out of a pleasant dream. ‘Eh, what?’ said he. ‘Did I hear you calling? Nay, I did not hear: I was busy singing. Just chance brought me then, if chance you call it. It was no plan of mine, though I was waiting for you.” The Fellowship of the Rings, Chapter 7 “In the House of Tom Bombadil”
“‘That is the purpose for which you are called hither. Called, I say, though I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come and are here met, in this very nick of time, by chance as it may seem. Yet it is not so. Believe rather that it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world.” The Fellowship of the Rings, Chapter 11 “The Council of Elrond”
Every step of the way as the Ring makes its way out of the Shire and into Rivendell something is guiding Frodo. Tolkien masterfully describes what God working all things together for good looks like. If you wish to live like free people in Middle-earth than you must realize everything is orchestrated by God for the good purpose of his will (if you want to see Tolkien flesh this out even more, read The Silmarillion’s opening chapters).
As we navigate this dark world and the “Shadow takes another shape,” we must acknowledge there’s much about the way God orchestrates our lives we don’t understand. We must humbly acknowledge just because we cannot in our finite understanding see any good purpose amidst the pain, suffering, and evil, we mustn’t assume God has none.
FRIENDSHIP, FELLOWSHIP, & FOOD
The Hobbit starts with the unlikely friendship of Biblo and Gandalf. This friendship binds this story together. Without it, you do not have Gandalf’s counsel of Frodo and the Ring may have fallen into the hands of Sauron. To the wise the friendship of the hobbits and Gandalf seems foolish. Saruman didn’t understand the value of hobbits and would not have sullied himself by being friends with those of a lesser station than him unless he was using them for his purposes.
The dwarves are unwelcomed friends at first but soon enjoy table fellowship—feasting, eating, and singing. They rehearse their shared history in Middle-earth. As the story proceeds, you have the lack of hospitality by the goblins in the mountains and the friendship of the eagles. They repeat the slow arrival technique practiced at Bilbo’s at Beorn the shape-shifter’s home as they escape the goblin’s lair. Beorn is dangerous but hospitable.
From there, the party enters Mirkwood and the hand of fellowship is not extended by the wood elves. They capture and imprison the dwarves and later lay siege to the Lonely Mountain asking for a split of the treasure. The dwarves and Biblo are welcomed by men but are not welcomed by Smaug.
After Bard the Bowman kills Smaug, the dwarves now reject friendship of men and elves (maybe justly in the case of the latter). This lack of hospitality brewing in the story comes to a head here and is only relieved by Gandalf and the common enemy of the goblins as they attack the companies of men and elves and the Lonely Mountain. In this battle, Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the dwarves dies which brings us to a major passage in The Hobbit:
“Bilbo knelt on one knee filled with sorrow. “Farewell, King under the Mountain!” he said. “This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils—that has been more than any Baggins deserves.”
“No!” said Thorin. “There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!” The Hobbit, “The Return Journey”
This same theme is carried over to TLOR (I’ll be briefer here). The book starts with a farewell party for Biblo. He disappears leaving Frodo everything and lives with Elrond at the last homely house. From the start, Frodo’s journey is uncertain, but is unexpectedly bolstered by the friendship of Sam, Merry, Pippin, and Fatty. They have been spying on him and plan to accompany him from Hobbiton to Rivendell. In another twist, they are adamant about joining the fellowship of the Ring. As the name of first book in TLOR suggests fellowship is central to the ring-bearer’s quest. That quest is almost destroyed by the lust of Boromir, but is saved by his final act of friendship and sacrifice.
In the second book, The Two Towers, friendship is again central. The friendship of Glóin the dwarf and Legolas the elf and also the deep bond between Glóin and the lady of Galadriel (although in book one). Also, the friendship of Aragorn (and the kingdoms of men, in general) and the men of Rohan is essential. The unlikely friendship of Merry and Pippin and the ents. And most importantly the friendship of Frodo and Sam which is contrasted with the twisted relationship of Frodo and Gollom. However, the relationship of Sam and Frodo carries the theme of friendship through out the entire journey. It’s also the reunited friendship of the free peoples of Middle-earth which makes the defeat of Sauron possible.
This truth that friendship is absolutely necessary is one that is also through out Scripture. Not only that, the importance of fellowship around the table and the rehearsal of our common story of the gospel is central to Christian discipleship. That kind of rehearsal of common history is paramount in Tolkien’s Middle-earth. It’s the suspicion of friends which causes damage in Middle-earth and friendship’s restored and a remembered save the day.
Tolkien does something that few other writers I’ve encountered do—he makes me long to return to his created world Middle-earth. It’s hard to walk away from that place and not find yourself more concerned with the world around you, more joyful in your fellowship, and more willing to sacrifice for the good of others. Tolkien gives us a glimpse of the good life and does so in a way that’s not preachy or superficial.
Mathew B. Sims is the Editor-in-Chief at Exercise.com and has authored, edited, and contributed to several books including A Household Gospel, We Believe: Creeds, Confessions, & Catechisms for Worship, A Guide for Advent, Make, Mature, Multiply, and A Guide for Holy Week. Mathew, LeAnn (his wife), and his daughters Claire, Maddy, and Adele live in Taylors, SC at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains with their Airdale Terrier. They attend Downtown Presbyterian Church (PCA). Visit MathewBryanSims.com!
Are Children a Barrier or Blessing for Missional Communities?
Missional Communities are a beautiful mess, especially when they have kids! I remember the first Missional Community (MC) that my wife and I led. We had a diverse group consisting of college students, singles, married couples, and lots and lots of kids. I remember one time we took a photo in our backyard. It looked like we were running a pre-k program every Thursday night. Not only were my wife and I trying to plan and prepare for our community's meeting every week, but we also found that we needed to dedicate and intentionally build in planning time for the children. Week in and week out, we'd have 10-14 kiddos at our house. We quickly learned that it was a beautiful mess—one that called us to steward well the responsibility of having children in our groups. In talking with others leading or participating in MCs, one thing has become apparent—trying to meaningfully incorporate children into the life of a community on mission is relatively new territory. I've seen the church build momentum with this in large corporate gatherings, which is a beautiful evidence of grace upon the church. However, the church must shift focus and begin building similar systems and rhythms for the children in our groups. For most missional communities, the extent that children participate is coming with their parents, usually destroying the host's home, enjoying unlimited lasagna and cookies, watching a movie, and then leaving at the end of the night. For children under 3, that's not bad. We want them to enjoy their time. That doesn’t mean they can’t digest basic ideas, songs, and stories about Jesus, but we shouldn’t drowned toddlers under 3 with theology.
My focus, in this article, is missional communities with children 3 and up, especially those with children 6 and up. Why? Because developmentally, children between 3-6 can start learning basic concepts building to more advanced concepts as they approach 6. They're learning to learn and are able to do things like sit for longer periods of time and be attentive to instruction. Kiddos 6 and above have clearly learned the "learning to learn" skills to be successful with just that, learning! One final comment on developmental appropriateness; not all children develop at a typical rate. There are lots of kiddos in each and every community that require special attention and have specific learning styles. That said, keep in mind that we'll have to be flexible as we plan for the group at large, knowing that we'll have to adjust instruction and teaching for certain learners that are wonderfully different.
Intentional Incorporation
What would it look like to intentionally incorporate children? First, we must instruct and teach them at their level each and every week—whether you're taking the concepts that the whole MC is learning and making it developmentally appropriate for children, or whether your lesson planning new concepts altogether. The idea is that we're intentional and we're planning. In addition to planning lessons and units of teaching, we want to engage the kiddos in community by encouraging the sharing of their hearts, the confessing of their sins, and by sharing the good news of the rich grace that more than covers their iniquities. If we do one thing well with our kiddos, let's teach them the concept of grace. Let's teach them how sweet it is and the cost that was paid for their sins. Not only will our children grow in grace, but also they'll learn to lead well in a generation that truly needs it. You want revival beyond us and our generation, focus on the children in your groups.
Luke 18 helps us understand why we should do this well. In Luke 18, Jesus encounters a group of children. Essentially, we know that Jesus calls the children to him yet let's look deeper. I'm going to make an assumption in examining this passage as to Jesus' heart in calling the children to himself. As opposed to saying, "Hold up kids! I'm not sure you know this, but I'm Jesus, you know, the Son of God. I'm busy preaching and teaching. You'll have to come back later." Was that Jesus' heart and attitude towards the kiddos? Did he take himself so seriously that he sent the children on their way? Absolutely not! He calls them to himself. That's an example for us leaders. You might be thinking “I’ve never turned away the kiddos during MC,” yet in your heart, I’m sure you’ve felt like they're getting in the way. You've probably felt like putting them in a room for the sake of peace and quiet. The heart there is what we're aiming for and where I want to focus. As opposed to viewing children as a barrier, let's view them as a blessing
Yes, it's chaotic. Yes, it can drive us crazy. But, despite that, let's model graciousness in our families and groups towards our children. After all, what must God think of our messy lives? The Father looks down and extends grace, rather than becoming irritated with us.
Deuteronomy 11:18-20 also supports this rationale. Moses gives a clear command for us to teach "these things" to our children. When? Where? While we're sitting at home, walking along the way, and in every part of our life. It's very casual, yet important. This passage gives the sense that teaching our children is to be done on a regular basis, both informally and continually. If we're called to do this so informally in our homes, that's all the more reason to better steward a structured time like MC.
Practical Recommendations
So how should we do this well from a practical standpoint? I want to be pragmatic and practical in this section. How are we going to do this well? Remember, these are recommendations and should be modified to fit the context of your MC and its participants.
- Ask for volunteers. Volunteers can make the MC more life giving for the families participating. I'd encourage the MC to look for an individual within the church that can serve each week. We had a faithful servant in our missional community that loved our kiddos. We loved her and demonstrated our appreciation for her in tangible ways. She loved when we gifted her the ESV Study Bible. It was a little gesture to show our appreciation of her commitment. A good volunteer can make the group more engaging for the parents participating.
- Provide Direction. A good way the church can serve these volunteers is by providing support in the way of lesson planning and strategic vision and direction. This can be done by a paid Children’s Director or by partners in the church that are gifted in working with children. Remember, it takes a village.
- Plan. Plan ahead for the kiddos that are there. Putting them into informal "clusters" will help you keep the expectations appropriate for each respective grouping.
- Kiddos under 3 need to have a good time. Cookies, cake, toys they like, and other special activities (Play-Doh, bubbles, etc.) will keep them engaged and loving the weekly rhythm of MC, which is worth its weight in gold. Parents will tell you—they're thrilled if they can meaningfully participate in MC because their under 3 kiddo enjoys being there. Gold I tell you.
- Kiddos between 3-6 can start to learn Scripture and enjoy the stories found in a good kids Bible. We recommend the The Jesus Storybook Bible. We love that the main Hero in the Story is Jesus and that's what we'd love for kiddos in this cluster to start learning. Jesus is the main character and all of Scripture points to him. It's our job to model a love of Scripture and an excitement for what’s found within the Book.
- Kiddos 6 and up may also like the Action Bible. It's with this group that you can expect more (sharing their hearts, confessing sin, understanding and applying grace, praying for one another, etc.)
- Look for leaders within this cluster. My sons are 6 and 8, and by God's grace, they're good leaders. They have 2 little sisters so they've had lots of opportunities to practice leading as tough and tender boys. I’ve also met lots of little girls that are firm and enjoy “mothering.” These kiddos will be the best helpers in the group; they can support the volunteer in reading to the younger children or playing games with them. This also gives us the opportunity to build them up as they embrace responsibility. Find leaders and equip them just like you would their parents!
- Have a rough schedule planned out but be flexible. The most successful leaders are agile, especially when you’re working with children.
- Work Together. Make sure there's gracious collaboration between the volunteers and family. The volunteer is not going to be perfect nor will they know the children as well as the parents. There's a learning curve involved but collaboration is important.
- Pray with and for all the children regularly—it's vital!
What Works for Your MC
In light of the different directions you could take, I’d encourage you to prayerfully consider what might work for your MC. Ultimately, we want our children in the church to grow up knowing what it looks and feels like to have authentic community. If we can accomplish this, the ripple will be far beyond anything we can ever measure. Lives will be changed and the gospel will move forward. We must take and win this territory. It's untouched and ripe for the picking. Jesus says in Luke 10 that the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Let's cultivate what's needed from an early age to raise up laborers for the kingdom of God. They're right there in our groups, you know, the ones reaching for the cookies.
—
Rob Fattal serves as CEO and BCBA in high-touch boutique firms providing educational services to children. He started his career as a credentialed teacher and served in both the public school system and at the university level. He and his wife have 4 kiddos of their own and have led and coached MCs and MC leaders. Ultimately, they love the church and hope to serve it well.
3 Counter-Cultural Lessons from Elisabeth Elliot
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature, and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series:
- 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children
- 4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
—
I remember embarking on my first attempt to read a book written by Elisabeth Elliot. I figured the best place to start would be her first Through The Gates of Splendor. I sat comfortably on a lawn chair by the pool and a bubbly girl came to sit beside me. I could see her eyeing my book, so I turned towards her with a smile and asked if she’d read it before. To which her smile contorted and she said, “Her husband had a cool story, but it’s just too sad. Their lives were all about being missionaries. After reading some of her book I stopped because I didn’t like the lack of love they shared. Their marriage wasn’t about love, it was all about mission.” I was taken back by the abrasive truth she presented me and spent the next hour reconsidering my interest in her book. If marriage isn’t about love, then why be married?
I came across Elisabeth Elliot’s works several times through the years and passed by them with caution. Even if they were profound, I consistently had the mindset that she lacked the kind of passion I desired for my future marriage. I couldn’t embrace her wisdom because her will was too strong for my liking.
“Sometimes it is absolutely necessary for God to yank out of sight whatever we most prize, to drag us into spiritual traumas of the severest sort, to strip us naked in the winds of His purifying Spirit in order that we should learn to trust.” –Elisabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity
I have three constant mentors that I turn to for advice, wisdom, and exhortation. One of which I do life with, one of which knows me deeper than anyone else, and the last knew me at my lowest. In the past four years, each of these highly admired women has quoted Elisabeth Elliot to me in times of need. Ironically, I started noticing something about this strong willed woman. Her words prodded at my spirit in a way that stuck. Her objective devotion to the Lord made me uncomfortable, and though I didn’t like it, it frustrated me in a convicting way.
1. Uniting Marriage and Mission
“From a respectful distance, with no knowledge on his part, I had the opportunity to observe the character of Jim Elliot. He was a man careful with his time. Friendly, and enthusiastic. I knew what kind of student he was. I watched him wrestle. I heard him pray and watched him lead. There was nothing pompous or stuffy about him. Long before I had any reason to think he might be interested in me, I had put him down as the sort of man I hoped to marry.” –Elisabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity
“In regards to dating, many times the best thing to do is pray steadily and wait patiently till God makes the way plain.” –Elisabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity
I was discontented when I was told to sit, wait, and pray. I am not a girl content with uncertainty. I covet understanding, value clarity, and seek insight. I cling to the truth in 1 Cor. 14:33 that declares confusion is not of God. In the past, I chose to ignore the patience required to labor in prayer. God has used countless trying relationships to refine me, but deeper than that, he has used those times to speak identity to me. The waiting, the watching, and the praying have been more sanctifying than the actual person and relationship. That is certainly because it’s in those times that God has been the center. God uses his people to sanctify his people, and that happens (most often) when the Church is on mission.
Elisabeth and Jim were not seekers of self but of God’s Great Commission. Their top priority was not to have a pleasing marriage by the world’s standards, but to glorify God through a sacrificial love in marriage. They met in college, then left for Ecuador both following God’s individual plan for their lives, then later got married in the mission field. When the two were not in physical company, they pursued the relationship as one with God’s mission. It was not separate from their call to share God’s gift of life, but a tool to use in the pursuit of his mission. Even afterwards, when Jim was killed and Elisabeth lived alone, she shared God’s glorious story and how her husband served to fulfill it with his life. The mission was never driven by their marriage, but the mission always drove their marriage.
How can we ever expect to go seek a relationship then find God’s will after we find the person? I don’t believe that was God’s initial intent for covenant marriage. The pastor of the church I attend often says, when speaking to singles, “Know who God has called you to be, pursue what he has called you to do, then watch for someone doing the same. Who can you imagine being on mission with you? They will, most likely, be God’s holy match.” Praise God for their example of pure, unbridled affection for the Kingdom of Heaven.
2. Loving Unto Death
In Let Me Be a Woman, one of her most popular books, Elliot paraphrases the biblical design of steadfast love.
This love of which I speak is slow to lose patience - it looks for a way of being constructive. Love is not possessive. Love is not anxious to impress nor does it cherish inflated ideas of its own ideas. Love has good manners and does not pursue selfish advantage. Love is not touchy. Love does not keep account of evil or gloat over the wickedness of other people. On the contrary, it is glad with all good men when truth prevails. Love knows no limits to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. It is, in fact, the one thing that stands when all else has fallen. –Elisabeth Elliot, Let Me Be A Woman
If this is the biblical design for steadfast love, then we can examine it in light of God’s love and the love shared in marriage. I can return to my initial question with a revised question. Can you truly love a person and not be on mission with them? I’m not sure if it’s even possible to devote one’s life to God and neglect a shared mission with a spouse. Consider the depth of love Elisabeth Elliot had when she returned to serve the same tribe that killed her husband. Her love did not lack passion, but had unconditional passion and compassion—because her love for God was ultimate.
This love carries the story of Jim and Elisabeth Elliot. These two lived to tell God’s story and their story challenges because of the drastic measures they took to love the world. They lived counter-cultural lives. The world sees the loss of life and tragedy, whereas Elisabeth and Jim saw gain for the kingdom.
3. Counter-Cultural Manhood and Womanhood
Our culture shouts out their corrupted view of marriage. I contend that because our understanding of womanhood and manhood is fractured the culture has made headway with their own vision for each. I found that my own assumption was similar to that of Betty Elliot’s:
“In a civilization where, in order to be sure of manhood (or, alas even “personhood”), men must box, life weights, play football, jog, rappel or hang-glide, it was startling to realize that there was such a thing as spiritual commitment as robust, as total, and perhaps more demanding than the most fanatical commitment to physical fitness. It was a shock to learn that anybody cared that much about anything, especially if it was invisible.” –Elisabeth Elliot, Through The Gates of Splendor
The power of her words expose the culturally-twisted understanding of manhood/ womanhood. The standards of the world lack commitment, growth, and deep affection. Often, it seems like men do not care to persist or endure with something they can’t see. Yet, Elisabeth watched her husband and his team faithfully and fearlessly seek God’s will. She also risked her life in hopes of bringing life to this same violent tribe. She breaks free of the caricature of the passive, beaten down Christian woman and the aggressive, independent woman of our postmodern culture. She modeled biblical strength, dignity, submission, grace, and love.
Upon first hearing of Betty’s strong willed character, I was rattled and frustrated by her. I couldn’t support the seeming lack of passion found in her mission-fueled marriage. However, the past four years have led me to the truth of God’s intention for covenant marriages, and thus, deconstructed my rose-colored cultural expectation. This woman unknowingly discipled me by her deep devotion to the steadfast pursuit of God’s affectionate call. Her wisdom, life story, and fervent words have refined me to be a better woman, servant, and future wife. Sometimes the things that frustrate you the most, are the very things that your spirit needs to embrace.
—
Chelsea Vaughn has served a ministry she helped start in the DFW Metroplex since she graduated from college. She received her undergraduate degree at Dallas Baptist University in Communication Theory. She does freelance writing, editing, and speaking for various organizations and non-profits. She hopes to spend her life using her gift for communication to reach culture and communities with the love of Jesus.
Grace's Humbling Necessity
From the moment we came into the world as helpless babies, right up until this exact second, we are utterly and completely dependent on the grace of God for everything we have, including life itself. What is more, if we have any hope of life after death—eternal life—it is only because of God’s free and undeserved grace for us in Jesus Christ. Until we understand this, it is impossible for us to have the relationship with God that we truly need. But when we do understand this—when we understand our absolute need for Jesus—then his grace changes everything.
PAST EXPERIENCE, PRESENT NEED
Our need for grace may seem obvious at the beginning of the Christian life, when we first put our trust in Jesus. Then we know that if there is anything we contribute to our salvation, it is only the sin that necessitates a Savior. According to the good news of our salvation, Jesus died and rose again so that in him we would receive forgiveness for our sins and enter into everlasting fellowship with the true and living God. We are not saved by anything that we have done, therefore, but only by what Jesus has done. It is all by his grace, not by our works.
Yet grace is not something we leave behind once we decide to follow Jesus.
Grace is our present need as well as our past experience. The gospel is not just the way into the Christian life; it is also the way on in the Christian life. We continually need to remember that God “saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 1:9).
In my first chapel address as president of Wheaton College I said something that took some people by surprise, maybe because it’s something that many Christians forget. I said that I don’t know of a college anywhere in the world that needs the gospel more than Wheaton does.
In saying this, I did not mean to imply that there aren’t a lot of Christians at Wheaton. In fact, every student, every professor, and every staff member on campus makes a personal profession of faith in Jesus Christ. Still, it wouldn’t be surprising to find unbelievers on campus: in most Christian communities there are at least some people who do not yet have a saving relationship with Jesus Christ.
This is not what I meant, however, when I said that Wheaton College needs the gospel. I meant that the gospel is for Christians every bit as much as it is for non-Christians. We never outgrow our need for God’s life-changing grace— the gospel of the cross and the empty tomb.
A SELF-CENTERED PRAYER
The main reason we continue to need the gospel is that we continue to sin. To experience God’s life-changing grace for ourselves, therefore, we need to recognize the deep-seated sin that necessitates our salvation.
One of the best places to see our need for grace, and also the way that God answers that need, is in a story Jesus told “to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt” (Luke 18:9). In other words, this is a story for people who will not admit their need for grace. It is a story for us, if we are too proud to confess our sins. It goes like this:
Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.” But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted. - Luke 18:10–14
The story opens with a surprise, because in those days everyone knew that tax collectors did not go to the temple and did not pray. Tax collectors were employed by the Roman government, and thus they were considered traitors to the Jewish people. Many practiced extortion. Thus one preacher compared them to “drug pushers and pimps, those who prey on society, and make a living of stealing from others.”1 Make no mistake about it: this tax collector was a crook!
The Pharisee, by contrast, stood for everything that was right and good. The Pharisees were widely regarded as spiritual overachievers. They were theologically orthodox and morally devout. Possibly our respect for this particular Pharisee increases when we overhear his prayer. He comes before God with thanksgiving. He testifies that he is not an extortioner or an adulterer. Rather than taking money for himself, he gives it away to others. He not only prays, but also fasts. In contemporary terms, this man would be a pastor or a theologian—or maybe the president of a Christian college.
Yet for all his devotion, the Pharisee was not righteous in the sight of God. Why not? His most obvious problem was pride. Although he began by addressing God, he spent the rest of his prayer talking about himself. In only two short verses he manages to mention himself five (!) times: I . . . I . . . I . . . I . . . I. It gets worse, because if we translate verse 11 more literally, it reads, “The Pharisee, standing, prayed about himself,” or even “with himself,” in which case he was not talking to God at all! He did not truly ask God for anything or offer God any praise but simply reveled in his own sense of moral superiority. In other words, the Pharisee was exactly like the people listening to Jesus tell this story: confident of his own righteousness. Here is a man, said London’s famous preacher Charles Spurgeon, who thought he was “too good to be saved.”
It is easy to see how self-righteous the Pharisee was, but what we really need to assess is the same attitude in ourselves. If we are living in Christian community, then either we will grow strong in the grace of God or else we will become bigger and bigger hypocrites. So we need to ask ourselves: When am I like the Pharisee in the story Jesus told?
Here are some possible answers: I am a Pharisee when I care more about my religious reputation than about real holiness. I am a Pharisee when I look down on people who are not as committed to the cause of mercy or justice that I am committed to. I am a Pharisee when I look around and say, “Thank God I am not like so-and-so” and then fill in the blank with whatever person in my neighborhood, or student on my campus, or colleague at my workplace, or family in my church, or group in my society that I happen to think is not as whatever it is as I am.
When else am I a Pharisee? I am a Pharisee when I am impressed with how much I am giving to God compared to others. I am a Pharisee when other people’s sins seem worse than my own. I am a Pharisee when I can go all day, or all week, or even all month without confessing any particular sin.
ANOTHER WAY TO PRAY
Thankfully, there is a totally different way to pray—a way that will save your sinful and maybe hypocritical soul. Unlike the Pharisee, the tax collector did not count on his own merits but begged for mercy instead: “The tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’” (Luke 18:13).
There are three parts to the tax collector’s prayer: God, the sinner, and the merciful grace that comes between them. The man’s prayer started with God, which is where all prayer ought to begin. The first act of prayer is to approach the majestic throne of the awesome and almighty God. When the tax collector made his approach, he refused even to look up to heaven, because he had a right and proper fear of God’s bright, burning holiness.
So the tax collector’s prayer began with God. It ended with himself, the sinner. I say “the” sinner, rather than “a” sinner because the Greek original of this verse uses the definite article. As far as the tax collector was concerned, he was the only sinner that mattered. Rather than comparing himself to others, he measured himself against the perfect holiness of God. And by that standard, he saw himself for what he was: nothing more and nothing less than a guilty sinner before a holy God.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer wisely wrote, “If my sinfulness appears to me to be in any way smaller or less detestable in comparison with the sins of others, I am still not recognizing my sinfulness at all.” One good way to avoid this error and acknowledge the true extent of our sin is to identify ourselves as “the” sinner when we pray, as if we were the biggest, most obvious sinner in our congregation, corporation, family, or dormitory. “It’s me, Lord,” we should say when we begin our prayers. “You know: the sinner.”
AT THE MERCY SEAT
This brings us to the most striking feature of the tax collector’s prayer: in between God’s holiness and his own sinfulness he inserted a prayer for mercy. Like King David, he stood before God and said, “Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer; listen to my plea for grace” (Ps. 86:6).
When the tax collector prayed, “Have mercy,” he used a Greek verb that essentially means to atone for sin by means of a blood sacrifice. To understand this, we need to go back in the Old Testament to Leviticus 16. Once a year, the high priest would make atonement for the people’s sin. He would take a perfect male goat and sacrifice it as a sin offering. Then he would take its blood into the Most Holy Place of the temple and sprinkle it on the mercy seat.
What did this priestly act signify? The sacrificial goat represented God’s sinful people. In a symbolical way, their sins were transferred or imputed to the animal. Then, having been charged with sin, the animal was put to death. The goat thus served as a substitute, dying in the place of sinners.
Once a sacrifice had been offered, the animal’s blood was the proof that atonement had been made for sin. The sacrificial blood showed that God had already carried out his death penalty against transgression. So the priest took the blood and sprinkled it on the mercy seat, which was the golden lid on the ark of the covenant. This sacred ark was located in the innermost sanctum of the temple— the Most Holy Place. On top of the mercy seat there were golden cherubim, symbolizing the throne of God. Thus the ark served as the earthly location of God’s holy presence. Inside the ark, underneath the mercy seat, was the law of God as a covenant that the people had broken. Sprinkling blood on the mercy seat, therefore, was a way to show that an atoning sacrifice had come between the holy God and his sinful people. The sacrificial blood showed that their sins were covered, that they were protected from the holy wrath of God.
In effect, this is what the tax collector prayed for when he said, “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.” He was asking God to make blood atonement for his sin. There the man was, praying in the very temple where the sacrificial blood was sprinkled on the mercy seat. When Jesus says that “two men went up to the temple to pray,” this is generally taken to mean that they were there around three o’clock in the afternoon, with the crowds that attended the daily sacrifice. Knowing that he was under God’s judgment because of his sin, the only thing the tax collector could do was ask for mercy to come between his guilt and God’s wrath. So he begged for God to be “mercy-seated” to him. He was asking God to atone for his sins, to cover his guilt, and to protect him from eternal judgment.
The order of the tax collector’s prayer echoes the Old Testament pattern for sacrifice: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.” First comes God, who is perfect in his holiness. Last comes the sinner, who deserves to die for his sins. But in between comes the sacrificial blood that saves his sinful soul.
SAVED BY THE BLOOD
This is a good prayer for anyone to pray: “God, be mercy-seated to me, the sinner.” Not counting the Lord’s Prayer, or the words of thanks I give before eating a meal, it is probably the prayer I offer more than any other. It’s short and easy to remember. I pray it first thing in the morning or the last thing at night. I pray it before I preach, or any time I am feeling weighed down by guilt: “God, be merciful to me, the sinner.”
When I pray this way, I am really praying the gospel. By shedding his blood, Jesus Christ became the atoning sacrifice for my sins. His death is my substitute; his cross is my mercy seat; and the blood that he sprinkled on it is my salvation.
To say that Jesus died for sinners is to say that his sacrifice accomplished what the blood on the mercy seat accomplished. Like the sacrificial animals of the Old Testament, Jesus died in our place. Our sins were transferred or imputed to him: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree” (1 Pet. 2:24). As a result, our sins are covered; our guilt is taken away. The Scripture says Christ “has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Heb. 9:26).
Our mercy seat is the cross of Jesus Christ, where the atoning blood was sprinkled for our salvation. In fact, to explain what Jesus was doing on the cross, the New Testament sometimes uses the noun form of the same verb for mercy that we find in Luke 1. We see this terminology in Romans 3:25, which says that God presented Jesus “as a propitiation by his blood,” and again in Hebrews 2:17, where he is described as a “merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God,” who has made “propitiation for the sins of the people.”
This is mercy-seat vocabulary, which assures us that our plea for grace will always be answered. When we say, “God, be merciful to me, the sinner,” we are making an appeal to the cross. We are asking for the blood of Jesus to cover all our sins.
GOING HOME JUSTIFIED
Has God been mercy-seated to you? What compels me to ask this question is the conclusion to the story Jesus told. Two men went to the temple, where they offered two different prayers and, as a result, met two entirely different destinies.
In the end, the tax collector got what he asked for. His prayers were answered. God was mercy-seated to him. Thus Jesus closed his story by saying that this man (and not the other) was “justified.” In other words— and we will say more about this in a later chapter—the tax collector was counted righteous. He was justified by God’s mercy on the basis of the atoning blood of a perfect sacrifice, which he received by a prayer he asked in faith.
God did not justify the Pharisee, however. This would have come as a total shock to anyone who was listening to this story when it was first told, so Jesus was very specific about it. Although the Pharisee declared his own righteousness, he was never declared righteous by God, and therefore he went home unjustified. Sadly, his righteousness was part of the problem. He was too busy being self-righteous to receive God’s righteousness, which comes only as a gift.
The Pharisee’s prayer was all about what he could do for God: “I thank . . . I am . . . I fast . . . I give.” All his verbs were active, in the first person singular. What made the tax collector’s prayer different was that he was asking God to do something for him. Therefore, the only verb in his prayer is passive: “God, be mercy-seated to me, the sinner.”
Pray this way, and you too will be justified before God. What is more, you will be so humbled by your desperate need for God’s life-changing grace that you will not look down on anyone but live instead with the humility, joy, and gratitude that only grace compels.
Excerpted from Phil Ryken’s Grace Transforming, published by Crossway, and used with permission.
5 Ingredients for Spiritual Meal-Making
My mom is a great cook who would make three delicious meals a day for my brothers and me. I wish I could say I inherited my mom's love for cooking, but I never did. She tried and tried to teach me how to cook, but I never wanted to learn. Now my wife is away for a few weeks and I'm counting down the days until the lasagna she made and so lovingly stored in the freezer is gone. As this terrible deadline approaches, I have several options: 1) I can starve; 2) I can eat out; 3) I can ask for handouts; or 4) I can cook for myself. I don't want to give up food for the next three weeks even though I could potentially fast for some of that time. I don't have the money to eat out daily and although I do have several friends who are going to invite me over for meals, begging for food just doesn't seem like the grown-up option. The last option is the hardest one, but that one has the most benefits. If I learn to cook while my wife is away, imagine how I could surprise and bless her when she returns. I could make her a date-night meal and maybe cook one-night a week. I could even invite friends over and be the one to prepare the meal. The benefits of learning to cook for myself are pretty much endless.
Why Do It Yourself?
I don't know many pastors who are good at cooking, at least, in the literal sense. However, I do know many pastors and teachers who are great at cooking spiritually-filling meals. They can prepare a great Bible lesson or sermon that provides you something to meditate on for the week. They're so good in fact, and you get such great nutritional value from what they're teaching, that you're a bit wary of your own cooking. Why study the Bible for yourself when your pastor can do it so much better?
As a pastor, I'm here to encourage you that nothing brings me more joy than seeing people learn to “cook spiritually” for themselves then nourish others. In other words, I love it when you learn to love and know God for yourself through the Bible and when you share that love with those around you.
For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. (Hebrews 5:12-14 ESV)
The book of Hebrews is written to early Christians who aren't maturing in their faith as they should. All they want is to be fed and not even with food that meets their spiritual need. The author of Hebrews has a double challenge for them: hunger for spiritual food and become cooks ("teachers" v. 12). Notice that those who are mature and feeding on solid Christian teaching are themselves responsible to duplicate the task. They should be "trained" so that they can understand what is "good."
Spiritually filling food is for those who have "powers of discernment" and are "trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil" (v. 14). Christians need to get involved in the cooking process. We are to take ownership for what we're learning. Other passages also encourage believers to prepare themselves to receive real food (1 Cor. 3:2) and to desire good food to grow strong (1 Pt. 2:1-3). So not only should we desire good teaching, we need it to mature, and we should desire to share what we are learning with others.
Ingredients for Spiritual Meal-Making
What are some practical ways we can learn to cook?
1. Study the Bible individually and in a small group; 2. Use outside resources to double check your recipe (i.e., use reference tools and commentaries like your pastor does); 3. Pray and meditate on what you're learning; 4. Take what you're learning to your pastor and teachers so they can help you; and 5. Finally, share what God has taught you with friends, family members, and fellow pilgrims.
This doesn't mean we should stop learning from pastors, teachers, and others, but we should become less dependent on them even though we value and honor their teachings. We come under their authority but not passively. A strong faith produces active discipleship. We don't desert the church for our own personal devotion, but we realize both personal and corporate learning together make the most nutritionally healthy Christians. Good shepherds should always feed their flock, but the goal is not to just eat another good meal, but to feed the starving and teach the full how to cook.
While my wife was away I went to the store, purchased chicken thighs, and spent around 45 minutes baking them when they probably should have only taken around 20-25 minutes. I couldn't get the chicken to cook like I wanted and when I did eat them, I was very much suspicious that I was poisoning myself. I don't enjoy cooking but I'm willing to try again. I want to help my wife and grow as a person. You're first time cooking “a spiritual meal” will probably go something like mine. Nobody ever learned to cook the first time they tried. Try again and see how you grow in Christ and mature as a follower of Jesus. The best cooks all started by making one meal.
—
Jonathan Romig (M.Div., Gordon-Conwell, 2013) is the Associate Pastor of Immanuel Church in Chelmsford MA (CCCC) and the Church Planting Pastor of Cornerstone Congregational Church in the neighboring town of Westford MA. He has taught New City Catechism as a year-long adult Sunday school class and recently self-published his first e-book, How To Give A Christian Wedding Toast.
4 Lessons from St. Patrick for Making Disciples the Irish Way
Editor: In our Family History Series we are seeking to understand how Christians of the past have pursued making disciples. We want to connect the church’s current efforts to make, mature and multiply disciples to its historical roots as well as encourage the church to learn from her rich past. So far in our series: 4 Simple Ways Fred Elliot Discipled His Children. —
When most of us think of Ireland, we think about green rolling hills and country sides covered in grass. What is not as widely known is that over one thousand years ago on this little island, was the birth of one of the most influential movements in the history of the Christian church. In fact, some scholars argue that the Celtic Christians contributed to preservation of western civilization.[1] Celtic Christianity stands out as one of most vibrant and colorful Christian traditions that the world has ever known.
The Life of Saint Patrick
Before you can fully understand Celtic Christianity, it is important to look at the life and ministry of Saint Patrick. His life is surrounded by mystery, superstition, and myth. We have all heard of him, but few of us know very much about him. There is a holiday that bears his name and he is known as the man who drove the snakes out of Ireland and used the shamrock to explain the Trinity.
So who was Saint Patrick? Patrick was the founding leader of the Celtic Christian church and was personally responsible for baptizing over 100,000 people, ordaining hundreds of priests, driving paganism from the shores of Ireland, and starting a movement in Ireland that helped preserve Christianity during the Middle Ages. As we shall see, the life and ministry of Saint Patrick reveal the great influence that he made upon Christianity and the world.
Patricius, better known as Patrick, was born in 389 a. d. in a Christian home in Britain during a time when England was undefended by the Roman Empire. Irish raiders captured people in Britain and brought them back to Ireland as slaves. At the age of sixteen, Irish barbarians demolished Patrick’s village and captured him. They brought him to the east coast of Ireland and sold him into slavery. During this time, Patrick would spend many hours in prayer talking with God.
Six years later, he received a message from the Lord saying, “Soon you will return to your homeland. . . . Come, and see your ship is waiting for you.”[2] He escaped from his master, fled 200 miles, and boarded a ship of traders who set sail for France and eventually made his way back into Britain. It was at this time that he received his call to evangelize Ireland. He explained his call in the following way:
“I had a vision in my dreams of a man who seemed to come from Ireland. His name was Victoricius, and he carried countless letters, one of which he handed over to me. I read aloud where it began: ‘The voice of the Irish…We appeal to you holy servant boy, to come home and walk among us.’ I was deeply moved in heart and I could read no further, so I awoke.”[3]
This vision had a profound effect on Patrick and he immediately made plans to return to Ireland, the land of his previous captivity.
Tradition has it that Patrick was appointed bishop and apostle to the Irish in 432. Patrick traveled the Irish country preaching the gospel. Paganism was the dominant religion when Patrick arrived. He faced most of his opposition from the druids who were highly educated and also practiced magic. They constantly tried to kill Patrick. He writes, “Daily I expect murder, fraud, or captivity, but I fear none of these things because of the promise of heaven.”[4]
Patrick’s own writings tell a great deal about the man, his ministry, and his love for Ireland. He mentions several times that his education was disrupted when he was taken captive at the age of sixteen. His writings tell that he was very self-conscious about his lack of education. He said, “I am unable to explain my mind to learned people.” Although he did not receive the same education as other bishops, he did receive his call directly from the Lord. Perhaps it was his lack of education that made him so successful in pagan Ireland. His great success demonstrates that he was able to relate to common people in a real and relative way. He had a great love for people and the Lord, which was manifested in every area of his life and ministry.
Part of Patrick’s ministry strategy was focused on Ireland’s tribal kings. Patrick knew that if a king converted, his people would follow. When kings would become converted they would often give their sons to Patrick to educate and train in the ways of the Lord. Thus, he persuaded many of them to enter into the ministry. Patrick’s mission was responsible for planting nearly 700 churches throughout Ireland.
As bishop of Ireland, he was instrumental in the conversion of thousands, ordaining hundreds of clergy, and establishing many churches and monasteries. Because of his ministry, Christianity spread through Ireland and into other parts of the British Isles. Patrick’s mission was responsible for planting nearly 700 churches throughout Ireland.
The churches and monasteries that he was responsible for establishing became some of the most influential missionary centers in all of Europe. Missionaries went out from Ireland to spread the gospel throughout the world. It was the Irish monasteries that helped preserve the Christian faith during the dark ages.
Celtic Way of Discipleship
The missionary legacy of Saint Patrick continued long after his death through the Celtic Christian monastic movement. In the sixth and seventh centuries, Celtic Christianity spread throughout the British Isles like wild fire under the gifted leadership of men such as Columba who established monastic communities in Iona and Aidan in Lindsfarne. These monasteries were not places for monastic recluses, rather they became spiritual centers and discipleship training hubs that sent out missionaries throughout Western Europe. On Columba’s influence, early church historian Bede wrote that he, “converted the nation to the faith of Christ by his preaching and example.”
What made the Celtic way of discipleship especially successful was their commitment to making disciples not just converts by infusing evangelism and discipleship. This is an important lesson. Many churches today focus on evangelism at the expense of discipleship by seeking to win converts instead of making disciples. The goal of evangelism is disciple making. The Great Commission in Matthew chapter 28 is to make disciples who will follow Christ rather than simply win converts. When Jesus said, “make disciples” the disciples understood it to mean more than simply getting someone to believe in Jesus and they interpreted it to mean that they should make out of others what Jesus made out of them. There are four lessons that we can learn from the Celtic way of discipleship which we will look at in the following pages.
1. Doing Ministry as a Team
The Celtic Christians did ministry as a team instead of individually. This means they didn’t go out and try to win the world by themselves, rather they went out as a team because the understood the power of numbers. Each member of the Celtic missionary team played an important role in the whole of reaching the community. Author John Finney observes that the Celts believed in, “the importance of the team. A group of people can pray and think together. They inspire and encourage each other. The single entrepreneur is too easily prey to self doubt and loss of vision.”[5] The Celtic team approach to ministry and discipleship is an important alternative to the modern “lone ranger” mentality approach that is typical in so many Western churches and desperately needs to be recovered. George Hunter says:
“In contrast to contemporary Christianity’s well know evangelism approaches of “Lone Ranger” one to one evangelism, or confrontational evangelism, or the public preaching crusade, (and in stark contrast to contemporary Christianity’s more dominant approach of not reaching out at all!), Celtic Christians usually evangelized as a team by relating to the people of a settlement; identifying with the people; engaging in friendship, conversation, ministry, and witness with the goal of raising up a church in measurable time.”[6]
2. A Holistic Faith
The Celtic Christians developed a holistic approach to discipleship that prepared people to live out their faith through a sense of depth, compassion, and power in mission. The Celtic believers were immersed in a holistic spirituality that had depth and meaning and enabled them to withstand difficult and hardship in their everyday lives. In other words, their faith wasn’t just theoretical, but practical and relevant to everyday life. Celtic Christians were not just hanging out in classroom, but living their faith in real world.
A major problem with much of North American discipleship is that it is one dimensional. Many Christians see themselves as either evangelical, sacramental, charismatic, etc. However, like a diamond the Christian faith has multiple dimensions. The Celtic Christians understood the complex nature of the faith and sought to bring together a faith encounter that encouraged spiritual growth on many levels. George Hunter says that they had a four-fold structure of experiences that deepened their faith.
- You experienced voluntary periods of solitary isolation in a remote natural setting, i.e. a grove of trees near a stream where you can be alone with God.
- You spent time with your “soul friend,” a peer with whom you were vulnerable and accountable; to whom you made confession; from whom you received absolution and penance; who both supported and challenged you.
- You spent time with a small group.
- You participated in the common life, meals, work, learning, biblical recitation, prayers and worship of the whole Christian community [7]
3. Missional Community
The Celtic Christians understood that mission takes place within the context of the Christian community. The Celtic Christians entered into the community they were trying to reach with the gospel. They would live, work, and eat among the people they were trying to reach. This is contrary to the way most modern Christians try to reach people. They went to where the people were, we usually expect people to come to us.
They knew that God created man to live in community with others. In the context of Christian community, spiritual seekers were able to explore the faith in real life settings. They were able to see the gospel message lived out before them. In this sense, Christian community is a living sacrament that demonstrates the eternal truths of Word of God.
Upon arrival, a guest would be given a soul friend, a small group, and a place for solitude. A guest would also learn some Scripture; worship with the community; one or more members of the community would share the ministry of conversation and pray with and for the guest daily. After some days, weeks, or months the guest would find themselves believing what the Christians in the community believe. They would then invite the seeker to commit their life to Christ and his will for their life, leading the new disciple in continued outreach ministry to other seekers.
4. Biblical Hospitality
The Celtic Christians understood and practiced biblical hospitality. The role of hospitality was central in the Celtic Christian ministry to seekers, visitors, refugees, and other guests who came into their sphere of influence._ Hospitality was an important part of the monastic community life and ministry. They would invite seekers, pilgrims, refugees and others to be guests of the monastic community. They followed the Benedictine Rule that said, “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: ‘I was a stranger and you welcomed me.’”
Many Contemporary Christians and churches have lost touch with the Biblical hospitality. It is imperative that we relearn the gift of hospitality, especially in light of its important place in the Scriptures. The word hospitality literally means “love of strangers” and is found several times in the New Testament (Romans 12:13; 1 Timothy 3:2; Titus 1:8; 1 Peter 4:9). We are all called to offer the love of Christ to our guests and welcome them in such a way that they would be transform from strangers into friends.
Lessons for Today
The Celtic Christian movement offers several extraordinary insights into discipleship for the church of 21st century. We can learn a lot from the man, Saint Patrick. He is an example of how an individual can overcome tremendous obstacles with the Lord’s help. Patrick went back to the very land where he had been a slave to evangelize. It is like the story of Joseph who ended up saving his brothers who had sold him into slavery. What a powerful example of how God can use our past to minister to others. Many times the Lord will give you a burden to help bring salvation and healing to people from your past.
Even though he didn’t have a good education he didn’t let that stop him from letting God use him. We see that he was able to do great things for God despite his lack of worldly education. His calling came from God and that’s all that really mattered. When the Lord is in your life He will make a way for you. Patrick was used mightily by God to deliver the people of Ireland from paganism, slavery, and sin. He helped bring revival to a nation and to a continent. He stands as one of the great men of the Christian faith.
[1] Thomas Cahill, How the Irish Saved Civilization. New York: Doubleday Press, 1995. See introduction.
[2] Liam de Paor, Saint Patrick's World: The Christian Culture of Ireland's Apostolic Age, Dublin: Four Courts. 1993. 99-100.
[3] Ibid, 100.
[4] Ibid, 97.
[5] Ibid, 53.
[6] George Hunter III, The Celtic Way of Evangelism. 47. This section draws heavily from Hunter’s classic work.
[7] Ibid, 48.
—
Dr. Winfield Bevins is the Director of Asbury Seminary’s Church Planting Initiative. He frequently speaks at conferences and retreats on a variety of topics. He has a doctorate from Southeastern Seminary. He has written several books, including Our Common Prayer: A Field Guide to the Book of Common Prayer. As an author, one of his passions is to help contemporary Christians connect to the historic roots of the Christian faith for spiritual formation. He and his wife Kay, have three girls Elizabeth, Anna Belle, and Caroline. Find out more at www.winfieldbevins.com. Twitter: @winfieldbevins
An Exchange Worth Making
Children often struggle with being fickle and indecisive when receiving or shopping for a gift. Those who’ve witnessed that awkward, anti-climactic moment when a child is clearly unimpressed by some gift they’ve just been given know the gut-wrenching desire that the unfortunate moment would pass quickly. One of the hallmarks of adolescence is an inability to discern the true, objective value of one thing in comparison to another. What glitters in the eyes of a child today becomes rubbish tomorrow. For children, the investment that originally secured the object for them is of little concern.
Christmas and birthdays are a prime time to observe this phenomenon. A child unwraps a gift like a tornado ripping through the aluminum siding of a mobile home, plays with it momentarily, and then drops it in hot pursuit of the next big thing.
Unaware that material goods offer only a fleeting, momentary satisfaction, children convince themselves that happiness will be found in the next best gift. They have not yet learned that discontentment produces only sadness and disappointment. The things of this world are surely passing away (1 Jn. 2:17).
A parent’s dismay at their child’s struggle with idolatry is short-lived, however, when they hear Paul say, “Such were some of you” (1 Cor. 6:11). We are not entirely unlike our little ones, as we’ll soon learn.
A History of Gift Exchange
As adults, we carry on a legacy of gift exchange that works in our hearts like an almost unstoppable force. The next big thing tempts us in much the same way that we see our children enticed by things that glitter. An example of this might be the ensuing fervor that occurs whenever the latest smartphone or luxury car hits the marketplace.
Many people today sit at the counseling table or in discipleship meetings brokenhearted over what amounts to the inability of their functional gods to make good on false promises (Deut. 4:28).
In biblical counseling, we refer to this as spiritual or circumstantial sadness and depression. It’s different from a sadness that’s rooted in biology, but it’s no less real. It doesn’t originate in the brain, as much as in the heart. In a materialistic culture, it’s all too common—even for those in the church.
Ruling desires of the heart not aligned with Scripture lead us into the restlessness of which Augustine warned: You made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it finds its place of rest in you.[1] Humans were created for worship. Indeed, something or someone will always occupy the throne of man’s heart. For this and other reasons, we are instructed to guard our hearts—the wellspring of life (Prov. 4:23).
We fail to guard our hearts, however, when we seek wholeness in career, fulfillment in marriage, happiness in education, comfort in the praises of men, or ultimate rest in recreation. Instead, we risk further estrangement from the God who created us and who now offers us fullness of joy in relationship with him when we continue seeking to exchange what we cannot lose for what we cannot keep (Ps. 16:11).
God the Father is indeed the Giver of all good gifts, such as those listed above, but when we exchange the pleasure of knowing the Giver for the gratification of merely possessing the gift, we reveal the true condition of our heart.
We say, in effect, God may be good, but there must be something better.
A Gift Exchanged for a Curse
Our propensity toward dissatisfaction begins in the garden with Adam exchanging the unspeakable joy of covenant communion with God for the false hope of becoming like God (Gen. 3:5). The horror of Adam’s deception was that he was already like God. Adam was the unique recipient of God’s immortal image and was the pinnacle of God’s creation (Gen. 1:26).
The greatest gift given to Adam at the beginning of human history was not “free will,” but the privilege of being God’s image-bearing vice regent over all the earth. God had already loved Adam, but Adam would ask God, in effect, “How have you loved me?” (Mal. 1:2).
By exchanging the divine gift, that is, his covenantal relationship with God in the garden, what Adam received was not blessing but curse. Not higher freedom but slavery. Not life but death. Not the truth but a lie. Not a deeper faith but unbelief.
Adam believed, in a way similar to an immature child, that he would find in the creation something better than the good gift he already possessed in God. The fruit of this is that we inherit this tragedy from Adam—the curse of sin and death along with a fundamental nature that is altogether different from Adam’s original state (Gen. 2:17; Ps. 51:5).
We continue making Adam’s fatal exchange each time we reject God’s good gift of communion with him in favor of lustful desires for something better in the world. Like Adam, we attempt to seek in the creation what can only be found in God. Like fickle children, only sadness and disappointment await us when we seek to exchange this toy for that toy.
It was C.S. Lewis who wrote in “The Weight of Glory”:
It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.[2]
A Biblical Exchange Policy
It used to be that stores would not exchange a gift without a receipt and certainly not after it had been opened or beyond thirty days. Store policies have changed over the years, so much so that shoppers are encouraged to read the fine print on any gift receipt. Shoppers are warned to not lose their receipt or attempt the return of items not purchased at the same store.
Thankfully, the story of the gospel, in both its diagnosis of man’s condition and prescription for redemption and restoration, has never been altered or amended.
This biblical exchange policy, though strict, is incredibly gracious to the returning customer (man) who offers an item (sin) that did not originate with the storeowner (God). Even more outlandish is that the customer seeks an item in exchange for their sin and sadness to which they can lay no claim—the righteousness of Christ and eternal life in him (Jn. 3:16).
The scandal of this policy is the storeowner’s perfect and just willingness to allow and even make provision for this outrageous exchange. Concerning this transaction, Paul writes:
“He made the one who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in [Christ]” —2 Corinthians 5:21 HCSB
Unlike children who are bound for eventual sadness and disappointment when the newness of something better wears off, those who receive the miracle of this Great Exchange will never tire of restored peace and fellowship with the author and finisher of their faith (Heb. 12:2).
To be sure, shadows of happiness and pleasure are evident in the world, but shadows do not fill the soul.
Produced by that which moth and rust destroy, they leave the heart restless and empty (Matt. 6:19). By contrast, the “holiday at the sea” Lewis alluded to was secured by Jesus for Christians when he traded places with them on the cross.
Writing of this glorious truth, authors Jerry Bridges and Bob Bevington write:
In this Great Exchange, we find ourselves arriving at God himself. . . . Far from being slaves, we are now God-esteemed sons of God and Christ-esteemed brothers of Christ. . . . What can this inheritance mean? What blessing can be excluded? What a reward, what grace, what a God, what a Christ, what a Gospel![3]
An Exchange Worth Making
Much of what passes as clinical depression today is discovered to be situational rather than biological. Some significant percentage of those cases, once the layers are pulled back, are driven by unruly desires of the heart. Satisfaction and contentment in Christ alone have been exchanged for whatever fills the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life (1 Jn. 2:16).
The good news is that despite our great folly when this is the case, God offers hope for prodigals who exchange their birthright for a bowl of soup or who spent their future inheritance on immediate pleasures only to find themselves wallowing in a pig’s pen.
As the Prodigal Son of Luke 15 learned, let us be convinced of our need for repentance and faith in the face of our own misguided exchanges and let us run with confidence back to our heavenly Father who waits for us and stands ready to exchange our soiled garments for a robe of righteousness and our earthly trinkets for eternal treasure.
[1] Augustine, The Confessions of Saint Augustine, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 2005), 15.
[2] C.S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory Quotes,” goodreads, accessed August 24, 2015, https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1629232.
[3] Jerry Bridges and Bob Bevington, The Great Exchange: My Sin for His Righteousness (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007), 168-69.
— Joshua Waulk is the Founder and Executive Director of Baylight Counseling, a nonprofit biblical counseling ministry in Clearwater, Florida. He is married with four children, three of whom are adopted. Josh earned the MABC and is now pursuing the D.Min. in biblical counseling at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is ACBC certified.
Worship in the Waiting
This is hard to write. It's hard because I feel myself immediately pulled in two directions: discuss worship itself—like how we're all innately wired to worship and how we so frequently direct our worship to creation rather than the Creator—or instead just share some of my personal, sometimes painful, journey with worship. Today I'll choose the latter. God has used one of the things I hate most to teach me about true worship.
Waiting.
I've always hated waiting. My dad is one of those people who takes joy in finding a way around lines, discovering unused shortcuts or somehow increasing the efficiency of things. Both of my parents were brought up under the adage, "Time is money," so from an early age I gathered that waiting is a vice, not a virtue. Subtle "truths" that accompanied this mindset were that I shouldn't have to wait on things, and that it's up to me to change my circumstances to avoid waiting.
I happily embraced those “truths” and carried them with me into my adult life. I relied on myself and believed I was in control. I mistook God’s blessings in my life for evidence to support my own perceived self-sufficiency. But my merciful Father lovingly did what I needed most . . . he opened my eyes to the lies I was living in and wrecked me.
It didn't come at once like a tidal wave. Instead, it was a steady rain—with moments of breaking sunlight and others of blinding torrents.
I've had to wait in the seemingly mundane things like sitting in traffic or waiting for a delayed plane with three kids in tow or even just trying to carry laundry baskets upstairs behind an 18 month old. I’ve also experienced significant, desperate seasons of waiting. No matter what the circumstance, waiting always exposes my heart and desire for control and my true lack of it.
For Andrew and I the steadiest downpour in this season of waiting has come in the form of financial dependence.
God first began to reshape my view of money when he prompted me to quit my first full-time job out of grad school. I had placed so much value on my title and found so much of my self-worth in my accomplishments! God was tenderly peeling that away.
I worried about how we would pay our bills, but underneath that worry was dread. It scared me to death to let go of the control I thought I held. Could I really just depend on God? Wasn’t there a lot I should do to make things happen?
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him. —Psalm 37:7
God exposed my wicked heart and unhealthy thinking about money. I used to turn to it for comfort. I believed we needed it to be okay. I believed we were more valuable if we could earn a lot of it. I was embarrassed when we didn’t have a lot of it. I was not generous with it. I looked to Jesus for more of it, focusing on what I wanted from his hand, instead of looking at his face and falling down in worship of him. So what did this Just, Holy, Righteous Creator of the universe do in response to my clear idolatry? He died for me. He took off my filthy, tattered, adulterous clothes and covered me in his robes of righteousness!
We saw the Lord provide in innumerable ways. I got to taste and see that he is good and that he keeps his promises. More of me was graciously being replaced by more of Jesus. It was God's mercy that allowed us to have to rely on him for our daily bread. All too often I returned again to my anemic self-reliance . . . only to be mercifully reminded of the riches of the glorious feast found in Jesus!
I slowly adapted to my new role and loved being home with little Eli. Then we found out he would be a big brother! We sat excitedly in the doctor's office, waiting to show Eli his baby brother or sister on the monitor screen. But they couldn't find a heart beat. We saw the tiny baby there, still and silent, and everything inside me screamed for control. We waited and prayed, but the next ultrasound confirmed it.
Miscarriage.
No control.
I went home to await the inevitable, carrying both a toddler and palpable grief.
We were terrified the day it happened. I focused on the physical pain and questions about whether to go to the hospital, but what frightened me the most was the sense that something else was dying. I was dying to myself and my facade of control.
In that moment I felt at peace—unexplainable, permeating peace. Right in the middle of that torrential downpour. I was never alone and God was stirring worship in me, even in our suffering, by displaying his faithfulness and reminding me of his sovereignty.
We processed the loss of our child with time, talking, and lots of the gospel.
Life never stopped during our grief, though at times it seemed like it should. In the four years since then, we have welcomed two new babies. We’ve experienced new challenges. And we have many more examples of God asking us to wait. We’ve learned to see how loving “No” or “Not yet” can be.
Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act. —Psalm 37:5
He has led me further out on the waters than I ever imagined, showing me each step of the way that he is good, that he can be trusted, and that he is for his own glory and my ultimate joy. As God mercifully sanctifies me, I have a deeper understanding of his character that helps me see just how finite and completely dependent I truly am. Knowing God in this way stirs up real worship.
Whatever it is that he is calling you to wait on—a job, a spouse, a child, your next electric bill—turn to Jesus and find much deeper fulfillment than those things alone could ever bring!
I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed. —Psalm 34:3-5
I can praise God for that little life that we lost and how he used it to increase my dependence on him, bringing me greater degrees of freedom. I can thank him for the pink disconnection notices and overdue bills, because he was showing me that I was running to the wrong things for peace and protection. God has been freeing me from fear. He has lovingly called me out from under the broken, hole-riddled umbrella of self-sufficiency I had been cowering under, to stand, face toward the sky, arms out, worshiping through the downpour.
—
Myra Dempsey lives in the Columbus, Ohio area with her husband, Andrew, and their 3 children, Eli (5), Esther (3) and Gideon (1). Myra works part-time as a Licensed Professional Counselor and School Psychology Assistant. She blogs at dependentongrace.com, contributes to the blog for her home church, at vineyardgrace.org, and has been blessed to be the keynote speaker at the iAm conference in Powell, Ohio, an event for teen girls. She loves reading, writing, and talking about God’s glorious grace!
Adapted from dependentongrace.com.
The Gethsemane Dilemma
“The rise of individualism has been going on for centuries.” -Jean Twenge
We may be living in one of the most individualistic cultures in the history of the world. For example, in Western society, consider some of the main narratives that are being preached: “Be true to yourself,” “Take charge and follow your dreams,” “It’s my body and I can do what I want with it,” or “Be who you are and say what you feel.” And these are just the start.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that these storylines are gaining traction. Are these not some of the ideals that we should expect to encounter in an ever growing secular society? Probably so. However, what I want to discuss is how these storylines should not be thriving within Christianity. So with that in mind, I would like to briefly examine why modern-day individualism has no home in Christian communities.
The Gethsemane Dilemma
I have spent a lot of time recently reading through the works of the philosopher Paul K. Moser. Through interacting with Moser’s penetrating ideas, I have come to see that all Christians enter into Gethsemane to face a dilemma. If you are familiar with the story of Jesus in Gethsemane in Matthew 26 then hopefully you recognize the predicament that he encountered. Read the text and see if you can find it.
36 Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” 37 And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” 39 And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” 40 And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? 41 Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 42 Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” 43 And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. 44 So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again. 45 Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Sleep and take your rest later on. See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 46 Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.” -Matthew 26:36-46
The options that Jesus faced looked like this:
- The Individualistic/Self-Centered Option: “My will, my way.”
- The Submissive Option: “Father, your will, your way.”
Let’s call this the Gethsemane dilemma. Of course, most of us know what option Jesus chose. He chose the submissive option. He chose the path that lead to his suffering and death (Matt. 27:32-56). Now I don’t think it takes an expert exegete to recognize that this was not exactly the easiest decision for Jesus. In his Gospel, Luke notes that Jesus was sweating blood and in great anguish during his time in Gethsemane (Lk. 22:44). When Jesus choose the submissive option in Gethsemane, he choose facing the greatest suffering that any human had ever faced. Definitely not an easy choice to make. In Jesus’ humanity, he experienced overwhelming anxiety and fear when looking at the road that he had to journey.
However, let’s not quickly skip over the fact (just because we know the end of the story) that Jesus did in fact have a choice in Gethsemane. He could have abandoned ship or aborted mission and chose a different path. He could have taken matters into his own hands and struck down Judas and all of those who came out to arrest him (an advantage of being fully God). And yet, he didn’t. He chose to submit to his Father’s will and walk that dark and lonely road. The Gethsemane dilemma presented Jesus with a choice, as it does for both you and I today.
Entering into Gethsemane
It would be foolish to assume that 21st century Christians face the exact dilemma that Jesus faced in Gethsemane. It’s not likely you will be crucified and die for the sins of the world. Nevertheless, we must assume that we must enter into our own Gethsemane and face the Gethsemane dilemma each and every day. Here’s how.
In Matthew 16:24 Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Is this not the Gethsemane dilemma simply restated in a different way? As followers of Jesus, we must enter into Gethsemane and choose either individualism or humble submission. There is no way around it and no loopholes.
Consider how the options might look today:
The Individualistic/Self-Centered Option
- “Be true to yourself.”
- “Take charge and follow your dreams.”
- “It’s my body and I can do what I want with it.”
- “Be who you are and say what you feel.”
The Submissive Option
- “My identity is founded in Christ and he is my solid rock.”
- “Father, lead me down the path that you would have me to go down and help me to bring you glory in all things.”
- “I belong both body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. (Heidelberg Catechism)”
- “God, everything that I am and everything that I have is yours to control.”
I know I’m painting with broad strokes, but my hope is to show that we all must enter into our own type of Gethsemane-like situation and make a decision. The submissive option is not the easy choice to make in 21st century America. It’s counter-cultural. However, we must never forget that we have a perfect Savior who modeled Gethsemane for us. Not only did Jesus show us the right path to take (Heb. 12:2), but he also took the darkest path for us so that we could have fellowship with his Father in Heaven.
In the age of autonomy, submission might seem difficult. Nevertheless, the gospel of Jesus Christ calls us forth into Gethsemane and demands a decision to be made
We can choose to submit or decide to make our own path. The choice is ours. May we be a people that follows the example of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
—
Matt Manry is the Assistant Pastor 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 matthewwmanry.com.
The Original Jesus
Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back—then it spread—then the color seemed to lick all over him as the flame licks all over a bit of paper—then, while his hindquarters were still obviously stone, the lion shook his mane and all the heavy, stone folds rippled into living hair. Then he opened a great red mouth, warm and living, and gave a prodigious yawn. . . .
Everywhere the statues were coming to life. The courtyard looked no longer like a museum; it looked more like a zoo. . . . And instead of the deadly silence the whole place rang with the sound of happy roarings, brayings, yelpings, barkings, squealings, cooings, neighings, stampings, shouts, hurrahs, songs and laughter.
—C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe[i]
This passage from C. S. Lewis’s epic Chronicles of Narnia series gives me chills every time I read it. Narnia, under a deep freeze as the result of the White Witch’s spell, was emerging from winter. Having defeated death at the Stone Table with a “deeper magic,” Aslan now rescued from death the creatures calcified into statues by the witch.
This image of breathing life into death easily calls to mind the spiritual rebirth we experienced as Christians when Christ, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, invaded our lives. Prior to salvation, we didn’t think we were dead, but we were. Paul tells us in Ephesians 2 that without Christ we existed as walking dead, spiritual corpses without any ability to please God. We walked with pleasure in the ways of our father Satan, and had no life within us. But Christ, through the regenerative power of the Holy Spirit, breathed life into us. The same life-giving breath that formed life at the dawn of creation has now breathed new life into His fallen creatures.
This creation, redemption, and renewal are the story of Christianity. But I wonder if the church has lost this message in some ways. I’m not speaking about a turn to heresy or those who reject the exclusivity of Christ, but I’m speaking of a development among those of us who hold fast to the gospel. We are tempted to promote a kind of near-gospel that offers blueprints for personal renewal without an emphasis on repentance made possible by the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ.
This Dr. Phil Jesus is attractive in a self-help society. Jesus as a self-help star who doesn’t renew us from the inside but offers a set of vague moral principles by which we can work our way to success. This Jesus is not the one who breathed life into dead creatures but the one who offers a serene pathway to your best life now.
At this point you might ask, “Doesn’t this Jesus offer life principles?” Or you may also ask, “Don’t Christian principles work at times for non-Christians who follow them?” The answer is yes. Christian doctrine holds that all truth is God’s truth. Theologians have long held that the world lives under a concept called “common grace.” This is God’s favor and providence over all of humanity, even those who have no faith in Christ. For instance, a businessman may run his business according to the book of Proverbs—wise and honest, with integrity and fairness—and yet may have never read that book. Along the way he has gleaned useful principles for life, whether from his upbringing, from his application of commonly held best practices, or by learning from wise teachers. And so he applies what can be found in the Bible without even reading the Bible. This is common grace.
Similarly, a husband and wife may enjoy a long, fruitful, intimate marriage and yet not be believers. They apply the things to their marriage that the Bible says makes marriages hold—fidelity, forgiveness, grace—and yet are as lost in their sin as anyone else. How does this happen? It is by God’s favor upon fallen creatures living in His world, under His domain, according to the way He ordered the world to work.
The Bible has good principles by which to live; it is the best collection of wisdom in the world, written by the One who created the world. So in this sense Christians should live by the Bible and be unashamed to declare that God’s way is the best way.
And yet in another sense, the Bible was not given to us by God primarily as a book of wisdom, though wisdom is contained in its pages. It’s not primarily a book of principles, though life principles can be found in its pages. It’s not primarily a self-help manual, though self-improvement can be found in its pages. The Bible is one, long, continuous story, woven through various authors and genres and thousands of years of history. It’s a story that begins with the world as it was intended to be, good and beautiful, perfect and innocent. It’s the story of who we are as humans, created by God in His image and for His glory. It’s the story of a tragic fall and a heroic rescue.
For most of my Christian life, I didn’t read the Bible this way. I’m grateful for the Bible teaching I received growing up, the gospel message proclaimed to me, the Bible verses I memorized, and the hymns we sang in church that have stuck to my soul as an adult. Growing up, much of the preaching I heard was essentially this—how Jesus could improve your life followed with five steps to do better in a particular area of your life.
I didn’t get this message from a liberal, mainline denominational church. I grew up in an ultraconservative church. The way we looked at the Bible was not as God’s unfolding revelation of Himself, the story of His work through time and history to redeem His people. We looked at the Bible as a sort of guidebook for life with a way to get to heaven in the end. It was better than Dr. Phil or Dr. Laura or even Dr. Dobson, mainly because its words were inspired by God and therefore perfect. What we missed, however, was the grand narrative. Thankfully I heard the salvific message of the gospel, but there was so much more of its riches and depth that I missed.
I’m afraid much of our preaching and teaching in the church is like this: merely good, practical, helpful messages by godly men but that could easily be preached at a corporate business seminar. I’m afraid many of our pulpits lack the kind of Christocentric, gospel-saturated, bloody-cross-infused preaching that reminds us daily that Jesus didn’t come primarily to slightly improve us, but to breathe new life into the walking dead.
A Righteous Man Reborn
This kind of proclamation animated Jesus’s ministry. This is why I think the most shocking story in the Gospels may not be His walking on water, feeding thousands with a little boy’s lunch, or even raising Lazarus from the dead. Those events proved that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, the promised one prophesied by the prophets of old. But to me, the most surprising narrative is Jesus’s encounter with Nicodemus in John 3.
Nicodemus might have been the most admired religious figure in Israel. If you combined all of the warm vibes our culture holds for Billy Graham, Mother Teresa, and Pope Francis, you’d have Nicodemus. He was described as “the teacher” in Israel (John 3:10). When people had spiritual questions, it was Nicodemus who gave the answers. If anyone had a lifeline to God, surely it was this revered teacher of the Scriptures.
And yet in John 3 we find Nicodemus, the learned scholar, teacher, and spiritual leader, asking questions of Jesus, the suddenly popular carpenter’s son from Nazareth. There was something in Jesus’s message of repentance that was different than anything Nicodemus had heard. And sure enough, when Nicodemus asked these questions Jesus confronted him not with esoteric religious philosophy, but with his yet-unseen personal spiritual crisis.
Jesus pointed his finger at Nicodemus and said, “You must be born again.” This doesn’t seem like much for us who live in the West. Ever since Jimmy Carter employed it in his quixotic presidential campaign, “born-again” language has been part of our modern vernacular.
But to Nicodemus these words were a cold dose of reality and kind of a shock. After all, if anyone needed to be reborn, it was probably those crooked tax collectors at the temple, the unrepentant adulterers, and definitely the Romans who occupied the land God promised to Israel. But Nicodemus? He didn’t think he needed rebirth.
Nicodemus was already reborn, or so he thought. He was spiritual, religious, virtuous, moral. But had Nicodemus been reading the Scriptures closely, or how they were meant to be read with a redemptive-historical focus, he would have seen that the narrative of the Old Testament revealed mankind’s dangerous paradox. Scripture reveals a moral law from God that demands perfection as well as mankind’s inability to perform that law because of our depraved condition. The prophets foretold a day when a Messiah would come and establish his kingdom. The features of this kingdom would be a call to repentance and the regeneration of the heart. Ezekiel said God would come in power not simply to rescue Israel from its oppressors, but primarily to give them a new heart (Ezek. 36:26).
Jesus saw past Nicodemus’s outward religiosity and into his sinful heart. He knew that what Nicodemus needed from Him was not just an updated reading on the Old Testament law, a few pointers on how to better serve his people, or a list of best spiritual practices. Nicodemus needed what those statues in Narnia needed. He needed the breath of life from God.
Despite his performance, his knowledge of Old Testament Scriptures, and his status as an admired spiritual guru, Nicodemus was no closer to the kingdom of God than Barabbas, that dangerous criminal being held in solitary confinement somewhere in Jerusalem. Nicodemus needed what everyone needs, the sovereign work of the Spirit of God breathing resurrection and life into what was once dead. Nicodemus could apply principle after principle—even principles found in the pages of Scripture—and still be no closer to the kingdom of God.
What separates genuine Christianity from every other attempt at reaching God is that it aims not for the moral self-improvement of sinners, but the resurrection of sinners to new life. This is not just a distinctive feature, it’s a whole new paradigm.
Jesus didn’t come to be a great teacher and motivator. The stories of Scripture are not merely for our inspiration and enlightenment. We are fallen creatures created to glorify God but willingly worshiping ourselves and our false gods. Unless there is a movement of the Spirit of God within us, we are hopeless and helpless in the world. This is why Paul, that learned Jew, said that if Christ did not rise from the dead, “we are of all men most miserable” (1 Cor. 15:19 KJV). He knew that the human condition is inherently corrupted. We cannot help ourselves, improve ourselves, or save ourselves. Only Christ in his power can save us.
[i] C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (New York, NY: HarperCollins, 2002), 168.
—
Daniel Darling is the Vice President for Communications for the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention (ERLC). For five years, Dan served as Senior Pastor of Gages Lake Bible Church in the northwest suburbs of Chicago and is the author of several books, including Teen People of the Bible, Crash Course, iFaith, Real, and his latest, Activist Faith. He is a weekly contributor to Parse, the blog of Leadership Journal. His work has been featured in evangelical publications such as Relevant Magazine, Homelife, Focus on the Family, The Gospel Coalition, Christianity Today, . Dan's op-eds have appeared on CNN.com's Belief Blog, Faithstreet, Washington Times, Time, Huffington Post and other newspapers and opinion sites. He has guest-posted on leading blogs such as Michael Hyatt, Jeff Goins, and Jon Acuff. He is a featured blogger for Crosswalk.com, Churchleaders.com, Covenant Eyes, and others.
Daniel Darling, The Original Jesus, Baker Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group, ©2015. Adapted by author. http://www.bakerpublishinggroup.com