A New Year for Making Disciples

A YEAR IN REVIEW

We are thankful for your support through out 2015. We hope the Lord continues to bless GCD as we seek to come alongside the church to offer resources to make, mature, and multiply disciples. We wanted to share a few ways in which GCD grew in 2015:

We published over 300 articles.

We published 3 books (we’re on track for six books for 2016).

• Sean Post’s The Stories We Live,
• Brad Watson’s Sent Together, and
• Tracy Richardson’s The Sermon on the Mount;

During our peak, the GCD blog ranked 1,075,343 globally and 227,963 in the United States.

We had over 125,000 page views and 90,000 visits.

We moved all of our content to Amazon and released a new storefront.

And our staff grew to include 6 staff writers (We’re hoping to add at least 6 more over the next year).

• Jason Garwood
• Whitney Woollard
•  Jeremy Writebol
• Chelsea Vaughn
• Sean Nolan
• Tolivar Wills

Our favorite articles from our staff writers in 2015:

• Jason Garwood: Grounded on the Rock
• Chelsea Vaughn: Advent Restores a Song for the Suffering
• Jeremy Writebol: 3 Ways to Grow Leaders
• Whitney Woollard: Theology Proper: The Antidote for Insatiable Desire
• Sean Nolan: A Banquet Among Enemies

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT

The last book we completed this year was Tracy Richardson’s The Sermon on the Mount: A 31 Day Guide Through Jesus’ Teaching. Here’s what you can expect:

Have you ever been shocked, surprised, and dumfounded all at the same time? Maybe by a surprise birthday party, a practical joke, or unexpected news? The Gospel of Matthew tells us that the crowd reacted this way to Jesus’ teaching. The front-page headline following Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount read, “Jesus’ Teaching Leaves Audience Thunderstruck” (Matt. 7:28). Why did Jesus’ teaching cause such a stir? What was it about Jesus’ message that left the crowd absolutely amazed? In a nutshell, Jesus’ teaching turned people’s religious ideas inside out and upside down.

In The Sermon on the Mount: A 31 Day Guide Through Jesus’ Teaching, Tracy Richardson walks us through Jesus’ teaching in hopes that the Spirit will transform the hearts of his disciples. This guide is designed specifically for DNA groups, two to three people, who meet weekly under the leadership of the Spirit.

This is a digital only release and we’re offering it for just $0.99. So start the New Year with a gospel rich devotional through the Sermon on the Mount.

P.S. We are still taking pitches from anyone, so please don't hesitate to email Mathew@gospelcentereddiscipleship.com! 

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

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A Letter to a Dad Who Left

Dad,

There may be some form of words that I could come up with to begin this letter but I don’t think I would ever find them. To be honest, I don’t know how to start a letter to someone that I have failed to speak to for so long. Someone better with words could maybe come up with something. And out of all the things to say I don’t know if any is more important than this simple truth: I miss you. And I’m sorry that it has been this long since we last spoke. I simply cannot believe it’s 2012 and it was in 2004 that we last exchanged words. I feel terrible. I am sorry if I ever made you believe that I did not want to talk to you or see you. There has never been a day pass that I did not wonder what you were doing or where you were.

I don’t know what has kept me from writing you all these years. Maybe fear. Maybe pride. Maybe uncertainty. I don’t know. But one thing I do know is that I am deeply sorry for standing back in the shadows and not stepping out and writing you or calling. I guess what I feared the most is what on earth would I say. There were so many things that I could say but didn’t know which things to choose. I would have wanted to tell you about college, graduating from college, getting a job, finishing grad school, getting married. There were so many things I wanted you to know but didn’t know how to tell you.

I wanted to know what you were doing. How work was going, where were you living, how was Hershey, and so many other things. 

With all of this, I just wanted you to know that I miss you. I want you to know that I love you and would love to know how you are doing. Again, I am so sorry that I have waited this long to make an effort to get in touch with you. Please forgive me.

I love you more than you know and I hope more than anything to hear from you

soon. But if not, that’s okay too. I just wanted you to know that I have been thinking about you and missing you for so long.

Love you Dad

I wish I could tell you that I heard back from him within that week but I didn’t. Even more I wish I could say I heard back from him period. But I haven’t.

And that’s okay.

I’m okay.

Christ is still sovereign and he is still good.

Writing those words is one thing but believing them is something different entirely. It’s the goodness and mercy of God that allows me to release this situation and place it in his hands and at his feet.

God’s grace and mercy are so freeing for our souls. They allow us to breathe underneath the wreckage of the sin in our lives and the sin entangling this world. It’s God’s mercy that gave me new eyes to see the darkness of my own heart and its effect on how I viewed the brokenness of my family. It’s God’s goodness that gave me new eyes to see my dad. It’s God’s grace that gave me a new heart that brewed new affections for my father.

This new heart and these new affections radically changed the way I understood the reality of my home as a child and my desire to tell my story. I no longer wanted to use these words to hurt, but rather to heal—because Jesus desires restoration for all his children.

And wherever you are right now, maybe on your lunch break in your car or in the back corner of the library while you’re studying or maybe on the way to the grocery store or J.Crew or Urban Outfitters—trust that. Trust that he desires to restore and renew.

My story is the story of many.

And that story is one from inside the dark corners of a soul that many keep secret and silent.

That story is one from a kid who didn’t want it.

A story he didn’t write.

A story she didn’t choose.

A story that is affecting an entire generation.

The story of a generation left on the front porch.

Abandonment happens every day in many way. There’s no question about it. Not one. No one disagrees and no one contests. The question we must wrestle with is: What do we do after abandonment strikes? Many give up. We become empty. We lose hope. We become angry. There’s not even hope of having any sign of hope to come. There is no doubt this is how we feel. Our lives, our stories, and our abandonment are real. It’s ever-present. It looms over us and it quickly becomes our world. Not because we desire it and not because we want to carry it around in our pockets or around our necks.

Not at all.

It’s because of the simple fact that our trust has been shattered. Our security has been broken. Our lives have been turned in every direction and we don’t have a clue how to get them back to the way they were. The questions have been posed:

• Who can we run to?
• Who is it that we can trust?
• Who will be our advocate?
• Who is it that will put our shattered pieces back together?
• Who can we rest in to know they will not open the door and leave us in the middle of the night?
• Again, who will fight for us?

There is great news for us as children of the perfect Father. Because of Jesus, there is no more longing and no more uncertainty.If the blood of the Lamb has washed us, our wounds have been healed solely because of the wounds he was given. Our hurts have been covered. Our worth has been secured. Our lives have been rescued. Our souls have been purchased. We have been fought for and we have been won!

This Great News, this Answer, this Redeemer, this Seed, this Hope has a name.

His name is Jesus.

—

Jonathan C. Edwards provides leadership & vision to disciple and equip college students at City Church in Murfreesboro, TN. He is the author of the forthcoming book LEFT: The Struggle to Make Sense of Life When a Parent Leaves. Jonathan received his M.Div from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, where he is currently completing his Masters of Theology. He blogs regularly at NotThePuritan.com

Open-Handed Apologetics

OS Guinness believes that having truth is not good enough. He believes that simply “sharing the gospel” or presenting airtight arguments for God will not convince people to have faith in Jesus. He says there needs to be a creative element to presentations of truth that appeal to beauty and creativity as well as logic and science. He says we need to add a convincing element to our presentation of the truths of scripture and I, for one, have been persuaded. Guiness starts Fool’s Talk: Recovering the Art of Christian Persuasion by giving a story of an interaction he had with Norman Mailer. He witnessed how a man that was degrading to women was still able to capture the attention of a mostly feminist crowd by kicking it off with a joke. In a situation in which an entire group did not want to listen to his speech he was able to disarm them and cause them to be more open to hear his claims.[1] This is just one example of what Guiness defines as creative persuasion.

Guinness contrasts what is termed closed hand apologetics (the approach most people are familiar with) with that of open handed apologetics. Closed hand means utilizing the best of our knowledge in the areas of logic, science, reason, philosophy, ethics, and history to make the case for God’s existence that are as convincing as possible. This approach refutes objections and makes cases for what one believes.

On the other side an open-handed approach uses different tools to convince. This approach uses “all the highest strengths of human creativity in the defense of the truth” as Guinness says. This includes creating good art, writing beautiful stories, creating intriguing videos, or using the common philosophers of our day (like comedians and musicians) to display the ridiculousness of false viewpoints.

Not Secular Knockoffs

Now some will hear this and immediately think that means we create art with an agenda. Or that there should be a higher volume of art that has some over-arching and explicit message. Christian creativity is oft sacrificed at the altar of the salvation narrative that seems to be necessary for most content creation. Hank Hill summarized it best in an episode of King of the Hill when he told his son Bobby, who had been exploring the hype version of pop Christianity, "Can't you see you're not making Christianity any better, you're just making rock 'n roll worse."

This is not a call for pigeon-holing Christian artists into making their art explicitly apologetic but rather for these apologetic messages to be more creative. This approach calls for those who craft presentations and defenses of the gospel to not recite facts as if they alone convince the human heart to change.

When art is created only to push a message or just to make it relevant than much is sacrificed. This can be “Christian” art or overly content driven messages. For example this is what makes some people appreciate an older album by Lupe Fiasco but think that his newer content (which is clearly more message driven) is not as artful.

However, a sweet spot exists where art and message blend beautifully to create a persuasive message that stirs the heart and moves people into action. From Bob Dylan to Public Enemy to hearing “We Gon Be Alright” being chanted by #BlackLivesMatter protesters  it’s clear that art can influence cultures when created excellently.

These songs as well as visual artists have been able to speak to culture and have a persuasive presence. Now if they were simply aiming at a strictly fact driven message set to simplistic music this would not have had the same effect. If people did not enjoy the visuals aesthetics then no one would care what Banksy says. If Marvin Gaye had a bad singing voice and a terribly written song then people would not care “What’s Going On.” The quality of work matters when viewing the trajectory of its popularity. If it’s not good then people just won’t care.

Heart and Head

The problem in much of modern apologetics is not primarily a matter of scholarship. In the fields of philosophy and apologetics the Christian worldview has made a strong impact. By the presence of such apologists such as Alvin Plantinga, William Lane Craig, JP Moreland, Ravi Zacharias, to name a few.

If this is the case, then what’s the disconnect? If strong, rational cases are being made then shouldn’t a wave of belief in God be on the rise?

This brings us back to where we started. Many of us who interact in the world of apologetics need to understand that appealing to the imagination is just as important as appealing to the intellect.There are many who are apathetic about truth until it is creatively brought to their attention.

When I use the word imagination I do not mean things made up in our mind or daydreaming. Rather I mean the underlying conscious part of our selves that forms all of our ideas, desires, and longings. James K.A. Smith referred to this as the way in which we navigate the world primarily through aesthetic forms.[2] The imagination being better described as the central portion of our hearts which guides all others.

For example William Wilberforce labored tirelessly against the evils of the slave trade in Great Britain. People could hear his words all day long but they weren’t moved until he forced the politicians of his day to see a ship that was being used for the trade. They now could smell the death and see the conditions that others were put under. He also enlisted others who had been on those ships to speak out at congressional hearings.

Wilberforce was not satisfied with merely a transfer of information. He wanted them to feel the full weight of what they were voting for. He wanted them to see, taste, and feel the evils of the choices they were making. He recognized that a factual argument alone would not convince their hearts (which loved money) but their head (which can believe one thing and love another). An appeal to the imagination was needed.

Our Messages

Antoine de Saint-Exupery is credited with saying, "If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea."

Whether we are trying to craft messages that persuade in a pastoral sense, through the written word, or perhaps in a particular art form, we must appeal to people’s hearts and imaginations as well as their minds. There is no “Solus Intellectus” that demands we appeal only to head but not the heart.

Jesus used various methods to communicate timeless truths to people who were indifferent to him. If we want to persuade others of the attractiveness of our gospel we should use our entire God given creativity hand in hand with our logic and rationality to aid us in being a public witness for Christ.

[1] Guinness, Os. Fool's Talk: Recovering the Art of Christian Persuasion. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books, 2015. 1.

[2] Smith, James K. A. Imagining the Kingdom: How Worship Works. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013. 36.

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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__

Hope is a good thing

In the movie Shawshank Redemption, Andy writes a letter to Red and includes the following remark, “Remember, Red. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”If I could respond to Andy, I would simply say, “Amen.” The reason, of course, is that hope truly is a good thing. Despite difficulties, hope is one of things that people everywhere hold onto, even if momentarily. Hoping admits frailty and attempts to look beyond the status quo, eagerly desiring and longing for something more. It’s good, yet it can be dangerous.

Grasping For Hope

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.” – Proverbs 13:12

For several hundreds years, Israel did not hear a word from the LORD. The same mouth that spoke all things into existence at creation, chose not to speak for a time. This time in redemptive history was cold, dark, and grimmer than the ominous silence before an impending tsunami. Israel had been exiled and only a few returned home. Things were not the same. Would God keep his covenant? Would God deliver them from Greek rule? Roman rule? Questions abound.... It’s within this context the Christmas story arrives.

Luke writes, “Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him” (Lk. 2:25, emphasis mine). Simeon kept the covenant by faith, hence Luke’s description in Luke 2:25. Here was a man who was waiting—expecting, hoping, and looking forward to Israel receiving comfort. Why was Israel in need of comfort? Grief. Pain. Frustration. Uncertainty. They lacked hope. That was status quo in Israel when the Christ was born.

Charles Wesley wrote of this in 1744 with the hymn, Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus:

Come, Thou long-expected Jesus, born to set Thy people free; From our fears and sins release us; let us find our rest in Thee. Israel’s strength and consolation, hope of all the earth Thou art; Dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart. Born Thy people to deliver, born a child, and yet a King, Born to reign in us forever, now Thy gracious kingdom bring. By Thine of eternal Spirit rule in all our hearts alone; By Thine own sufficient merit, raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Longing, expectation, and hope of the kingdom—but where and when would it come? Anointed by the Holy Spirit, Simeon was granted divine revelation: “It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ” (Lk. 2:26). Simeon was promised that he would in fact see the messiah. Finally! Hope had dawned and, though the sunshine seemed dim, the brightness would come in the promised messiah.

Simeon followed the revelation and the leading of the Spirit and went to the temple where he met Joseph and Mary by divine appointment. Simeon holds the child then blesses God. In a fit of divine elation, Simeon thanks God for the fruition of the promise: He has seen God’s salvation. And that salvation will be a light to the Gentiles as well as the Jews.

Simeon grasped for hope and, in God’s wise counsel, this hope was held in his very own hands. The messiah would bring light, truth, salvation, and hope to all nations (Is. 42:6; 49:6; 60:1-3).

The Story Progresses

Fast forward to the end of Luke’s Gospel account. Jesus was betrayed, murdered, buried, and raised. Talk about a journey of hope! This promised messiah stared death in the face, brutally falling under the sword of divine wrath. I suspect if Simeon were present at the execution of Jesus, he might have asked the following questions: “Was this the same man I held in my arms? The one the Spirit promised would be messiah? Now that he is dead, how could he possible be the consolation of Israel?”

Those who watched Jesus being crucified could have benefited from this Psalm, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation” (Ps. 42:5).

Yet Christ was raised! Death couldn’t keep him for long; no, Jesus walked out of the tomb leaving death in the grave. “Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD his God,” says the Psalmist (Ps. 146:5). Jesus was blessed! God was his hope. Jesus saw his vindication on the other side of the cross.

Jesus then appears to a couple of his disciples on the road to Emmaus (Lk. 24). These disciples were walking along discussing among themselves the apparent failure of Jesus to bring the promised consolation to Israel. They say as much, “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel” (Lk. 24:21). Did you catch that? We had hoped.

Tension. Simeon was told that Jesus was the hope that was coming to the world to bring redemption. Yet it seemed as if Jesus failed. He died! Messiah’s don’t just die! Hope was already waning when Jesus was arrested and now it has all but dwindled.

Little do the disciples know that Jesus rose from the dead, so he explained that the entire Bible is about him (Lk. 24:27). After that, they share a meal, their eyes are opened, and they know it’s him. He immediately disappears from their presence. After admitting an odd case of divine heart-burn (Lk. 24:32), they spread the news: “Hope is here! Hope has come! Our consolation is truly here!” The gospel announcement marches forward.

Living In-Between

The consolation that Simeon and the disciples were desperate for is still the same consolation we long for. The kingdom of God was launched in the person and work of Christ. This kingdom is not yet here in its fullest expression. Christ has been enthroned and his crown rights should be acknowledged by all nations, but not all nations have been discipled. The hope that surrounds Jesus’ first coming propels the church’s mission forward, knowing that the future hope we have is guaranteed by the resurrection of Christ.

We can learn much from the first advent as we peer into the future, longing for the second. Jeremiah Burroughs comments, “Faith and hope purge and work a suitableness in the soul to the things believed and hoped for.”

The act of faith (trusting without seeing) coupled with hope (longing and expectation) shape and mold the soul in such a way as to align one’s heart with what is envisioned. In other words, whatever our hope is our lives are to be lived in such a way as to strive for it. The soul is built to desire—to desire is to hope and to hope is to desire. So what does Christian hope look like?

Christian hope is quiet and waits patiently. It cries out with the Psalmist, “I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry” (Ps. 40:1). Christian hope is also confident expectation. Sure, we wait patiently and quietly, but we also look forward confident in God to be faithful to his promises. To have confident expectation is to yearn for something. We “put out our necks” to see when God will come.

We live in-between.

To live in between the advents of messiah is to look back on what God has done with excitement and look forward to what God will do with eagerness. We hope in what is to come because we see what God has already done. Living in between the advent pushes future hope deep into the soul because God has already proven himself faithful. Hope is only as good as the presupposed promise and that promise comes from the God of all true and better promises.

Real, Robust Resurrection Hope

We can hope with full confidence because Jesus is alive. The down payment of the firstfruits of the resurrection in Christ is a done deal. Christ has died. Christ is risen. The objective reality of the empty tomb is the fuel that drives the engine of hope. Sure, we don’t see the entire picture: “For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?” (Rom. 8:24). But we don’t have to. The future belongs to God and those to whom he chooses to give it. But that doesn’t undermine our hope. It drives it.

What Christians hold on to during Advent is not fuzzy feelings of the past. We don’t celebrate Advent because God did something real nice once before. We take time to celebrate Christ’s coming because of a real, robust resurrection hope. The tomb is empty. The gospel announcement has been shouted. Christ has come, yet he will come again. Hope is definitely a good thing. Yes, it is dangerous because we can hope in things that will disappoint. That’s reality when living in the in-between. But resurrection power has come and will come again. Is there a surer or greater hope?

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

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Editor: In advent, there’s a natural sense of restlessness in our world which only Jesus’ presence can bring peace and resolution to. Our desire is to drive our hope toward the incarnate Savior during this season. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth.

• The Arrival: Prince of Peace by Mathew B. Sims
• Advent Calls Us to Stay Awake by Freddy Williams and David Comstock
• And He Called His Name Jesus by Whitney Woollard
• Advent Restores a Song for the Suffering by Chelsea Vaughn
• A Banquet Among Enemies by Sean Nolan

A Banquet Among Enemies

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. – Psalm 23:5

Hope, joy, peace, and love are probably not the first words that come to your mind when you think of refugees. You've likely seen the images of men, women, and children crammed into little rubber boats attempting to flee the blood thirst of ISIS. Many of them, to their horror, land on foreign soil only to be turned away. They are not welcome.

Joseph and the nine-months pregnant Mary were similarly turned away when they asked for refuge at an inn in Bethlehem. So the child-king and Savior of the world was born, not in a palace, not even in a Motel 6, but an animal stable and placed in a feeding trough as a makeshift crib.

God is so often nearest to those who are most desperate.He was there in the stable with the postpartum Mary, although just a babe. Those in extreme situations recognize more quickly their need for divine assistance while affluence and material comfort blind many of us. But make no mistake; we are all in need of God's rescue. An unknown author captured this in the opening lines of a seventh-century Advent hymn:

Creator of the stars of night, Thy people's everlasting light, Jesus, Redeemer, save us all, And hear Thy servants when they call. – Creator of the Stars of Night, trans. John M. Neale

His prayer was not for Jesus to save only the poor, or only the rich, but to save us all. We all suffer under the weight of the Fall and sin's deadly consequences. You may have seen the images of children beheaded at the hands of ISIS and felt the twist in your gut at the severe injustice. If you experienced feelings of hatred and rage, you were not alone.

Many are migrating away from their homeland to escape the wrath of ISIS so their children will not end up in a photograph passed around social media to stoke the sympathy of the West. God is not unfamiliar with the threat. Jesus was not yet two years old when his mother and adoptive father had to flee Bethlehem to escape a similar fate. Herod, the dictator-king of Judea, took the life of every small boy in the area (Matt. 2:13-18). He takes this rough measure to secure his self-worship and prevent a child-savior from threatening his rule. The hymn continues:

Thou, grieving that the ancient curse Should doom to death a universe, Hast found the medicine, full of grace, To save and heal a ruined race.

Could you imagine being one of the families who lost their son at the hands of Herod? Some in Iraq and Syria don't have to imagine; it’s their reality. The curse is real, and the death it brings permeates our entire universe. If you've wondered where God is in the midst of the chaos, you are not alone.

The child who escaped the sword of Herod was later crucified and disfigured at the hands of sinful men. A gruesome act of man that doubled as God's most glorious act of rescue, for Jesus laid his life down of his own accord (Jn. 10:18). He will soon return for his bride. His grace will save and heal our ruined human race.

The arrival of the child, in the unassuming stable, brought hope, joy, peace, and love.

Thou cam'st, the Bridegroom of the bride, As drew the world to evening-tide; Proceeding from a virgin shrine, The spotless Victim all divine.

Our consciences, at their best moments, are outraged at the heinous acts of ISIS. At their worst, they excuse us for our own heinous thoughts and deeds. While it feels difficult to identify with ISIS, we have more in common with them than we do with Jesus. We have the blood of Jesus, the only perfect one, on our hands. It was our sin that sent him to the cross. He would undergo the worst injustice humanity has ever seen. That child virgin-born would never experience guilt from his own thoughts or actions, for they were perfect always. But he became one of us and experienced a separation from the Father, all to rescue those who forsook him.

At Whose dread Name, majestic now, All knees must bend, all hearts must bow; And things celestial Thee shall own, And things terrestrial, Lord alone.

That baby in a stable was peaceful and adorable. But when he returns a second time the ledger will be made right. Yes, those who punish his children will someday recognize his terrible majesty and might. No one will stand on that day—all will bow, things in heaven and on earth.

We like this—God returning to execute justice—so long as we are not on the receiving end. If you've experienced God's grace and mercy in the person of Christ, the debt you owe—the cosmic consequence of your sin—has been paid. But do you long for those exacting vengeance in the name of Allah to experience the same grace?

Someday, they will rightly see the divine power and glory of Christ. In obedience to Christ, we should be praying that day occurs before judgment, the terrible day when:

O Thou Whose coming is with dread To judge and doom the quick and dead, Preserve us, while we dwell below, From every insult of the foe.

Those deplorable actions of Herod and ISIS, they are but the last death throes of the one who came to kill and destroy (Jn. 10:10). That babe in the manger has crushed his head, and while his heart still beats, he is as good as dead.

Jesus has not yet returned to balance the scales of justice, so hope is alive for those within the ranks of ISIS (and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s converted a terrorist for his glory Acts 8).

While we dwell below we may not be protected from all the Enemy's blows, but we do rest firmly in the hand of the Savior and King. Our hope is in the one to which we sing:

To God the Father, God the Son, And God the Spirit, Three in One, Laud, honor, might, and glory be From age to age eternally.

In him, we find our hope, despite the injustice in this world. In him, we find our joy, despite the violence that tries to rob us. In him, we find peace, despite those that insist on war. And in him, we know love. That’s why we can love our enemies because Jesus died for us when we were his enemies, and he now sends his Spirit to dwell within us.

As we reflect on his first advent, we see the creator of the world erupting into human history, taking on flesh, and dying for us as a substitute. His first advent has shown us that nothing is impossible with God. We wait, patiently, but expectantly for his second advent. We say with the Apostle Paul:

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8:31-39

Paul contrasts the love of God in Christ against the backdrop of almost every possible human suffering we could face. The words are timeless as we head into Advent. If our heart is never heavy due to the pain of the world, we are not paying attention. But if our heart is faint because of these woes, we have not reflected enough on the gospel’s victory. Paul, commenting on his own trials, referred to himself as "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing" (2 Cor. 6:10). This same attitude should mark us as we prepare our hearts for Advent.

Some head into this season with very little. They long for something simple and material: a hot meal, a warm bed. Thoughts of hope, joy, peace, and love are far from them. But God has given up his son for us all; will he not then give us these intangible desires? Some have lost their children; God knows what it’s like to watch a child die. Multitudes of people are afraid of God's condemnation due to their sin; he justifies. Not because of what we've done, but because of what Christ did. The hearts of many are so busy they do not know how to approach God and feel ill prepared for this season; Jesus is interceding for them. In some places radical Islamists may separate people's heads from their bodies; they cannot separate a Christian from the love of God. God is for us. God is with us. This is the meaning of Jesus' name, Immanuel. Through him, we are more than conquerors.

It’s possible for an army to win a war but suffer tremendous loss of lives. Conquering comes, usually, at a great cost. Not so with those who trust Christ. While everything in this world may be taken from us, our lives rest solely with Christ who will raise them up again. He's already demonstrated that by raising up his own.

Jesus Christ is our hope (1 Tim. 1:1) and he has overcome the world that stands against us (Jn. 16:33). He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief (Is. 53:3), so that we could have joy in the Holy Spirit (Rom. 14:17). He will soon return with a sword coming out of his mouth to silence his enemies (Rev. 19:5), but for those who trust in him he is our peace (Eph. 2:14). The people of God have a multitude of enemies standing against them, but the hope of spiritual Israel is in the God who is love (1 Jn. 4:8).

Hope, joy, peace, and love. The themes may seem foggy. The words intangible. But when we cast our gaze upon Jesus these words take on flesh as he did (Jn. 1:14).

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Sean Nolan (B.S. and M.A., Summit University) is the Family Life Pastor at Christ Fellowship Church in Fallston, MD. Prior to that he served at Terra Nova Church in Troy, NY for seven years and taught Hermeneutics to ninth and tenth graders. He is married to Hannah and is about to be a father for the second time. He occasionally blogs at Hardcore Grace.

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Editor: In advent, there’s a natural sense of restlessness in our world which only Jesus’ presence can bring peace and resolution to. Our desire is to drive our hope toward the incarnate Savior during this season. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth.

• The Arrival: Prince of Peace by Mathew B. Sims
• Advent Calls Us to Stay Awake by Freddy Williams and David Comstock
• And He Called His Name Jesus by Whitney Woollard
• Advent Restores a Song for the Suffering by Chelsea Vaughn

Incarnation in the City

If we do not understand the weight of the miracle of the incarnation of Christ, it’s because we do not understand the weight of the holiness of God. The incarnation is shocking. It is outrageous to think that an infinite and holy God would voluntarily become finite to live with unholy sinners. In fact, the incarnation is so appalling that it is the thing that separates Christianity from Islam and Judaism. The Jerusalem Talmud says, “If man claims to be God, he is a liar” (Ta’anit 2:1), while the Quran says, “Allah begets not and was not begotten” (Sura al-Ikhlas 112). Jews and Muslims understand how ludicrous it is to think that a holy God would humiliate himself by becoming human.

The Dreadful Holiness of God

The holiness of God is fearful. But if we want to know God and ourselves, we must begin by seeing how much God loves his holiness and cherishes his purity. If we do not start here, the gospel will become cheap to us. As A.W. Tozer wrote in The Knowledge of the Holy,

“Unless the weight of the burden is felt, the gospel can mean nothing to man; and until he sees a vision of God high and lifted up, there will be no woe and no burden. Low views of God destroy the gospel for all who hold them.”

Under the old covenant, people responded to the holiness of God with awe and reverence. When Moses met the Lord, he “hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God” (Ex 3:6). Then, years later, when he begged to see God’s glory, God said, “You cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live” (Ex 33:20). When the ark of the Lord was being brought back to Israel, some men looked inside of it and, as a result, the Lord struck down fifty thousand men. The people despaired, “Who is able to stand before the Lord, this holy God?” (1 Sam. 6:20). When David was bringing the ark to Jerusalem, one man merely touched it, and God struck him down immediately, “And David was afraid of the Lord that day, and he said, ‘How can the ark of the Lord come to me?’” (2 Sam. 6:9). The nearer Ezekiel approached the throne of the Lord, the less sure his words became: “Such was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. And when I saw it, I fell on my face” (Ez 1:28).

Not only did people tremble at his holiness, the Lord himself frequently spoke about it. Through Isaiah, he said, “Who has measured the Spirit of the Lord, or what man shows him his counsel … All the nations are as nothing before him, they are accounted by him as less than nothing and emptiness” (Is 40:13, 17). When Job finished calling his character into question, the Lord answered from the whirlwind, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? . . . Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?” (Job 38:2, 4).

The Incarnation of that Dreadful Holiness

Jesus embodies the holiness of God because he is God and has been with God from the beginning (Jn 1:1-2). This means that, when God acted under the old covenant, Jesus—as part of the Godhead—was right there with him. This is why the incarnation is a shocking miracle. In Christ, God has effected self-disclosure. Our holy God, who told Moses, “for man shall not see me and live,” became incarnate. People saw him and lived.

Our holy God, who struck down a man for touching the ark and another fifty thousand for looking inside of it, became incarnate. People spit upon him and lived. Our holy God, whose throne was so magnificent that Ezekiel failed to find words to describe it, became incarnate. He was born as a baby in a manger, not a throne. Our holy God, who demanded blood sacrifices to atone for sin, became incarnate. He allowed himself to be butchered on a cross.

Our holy God, who asked Job, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?” became incarnate. He was born in an insignificant little town and worked as a mere carpenter in Nazareth.

Incarnation in Our Cities

What does the incarnation mean for us today?

First, the incarnation means that we live in the world, but not of it

As Jesus prayed for his disciples, “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world” (Jn 17:15). In other words, we pursue holy lives of obedience and sacrifice even as we engage in our cities.

Second, the incarnation means that we seek opportunities to deny ourselves

Self-denial is not a popular topic in our culture, but it is the starting point for Christian growth in the mind of Christ. When Jesus became incarnate, he voluntarily denied himself the privileges of being God in order to be mocked and killed (Phil. 2:8). He did this because he longed to redeem us and knew that, in order to accomplish our salvation, the demands of his holiness had to be met. We could not meet them, so he met them for us. We, in turn, are to have the same mind, “do[ing] nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count[ing] others more significant than [our]selves” (Phil. 3:3). We deny ourselves to love others.

Third, the incarnation means that we do not love money

God is the richest being in the universe. Everything is made by him, through him and for him. Yet as he looked upon the world and decided into what family he would come, he chose the poorest of the poor. When Mary and Joseph went to the temple after the birth of Jesus, Luke records, “And when the time came for their purification according to the Law of Moses, they brought [Jesus] up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord. . . and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the Law of the Lord, ‘a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons’” (Lk 2:22-24). Under the Law, the regular sacrifice was a lamb, but there was a provision for poor mothers: “If she cannot afford a lamb, then she shall take two turtledoves or two pigeons” (Lv 12:8). This is what Mary brought. Jesus, who had all the riches of the world at his disposal, chose to be incarnate into a family that could not even afford a regular sacrifice. Let us not love riches.

Fourth, the incarnation means that we should not overvalue physical beauty

Our culture loves external appearances, but the incarnate Christ chose to come as someone who had no physical beauty or majesty. He is the most glorious person who has ever lived, but we did not recognize his glory. Thousands saw him with their eyes, but they saw nothing with their hearts. We, in turn, must look for beauty in our world with the eyes of our heart. What will we see when we look at the world this way? We will see that, today, the Lord lives in the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner. As Jesus taught, when we care for such people, we do this unto him.

Finally, the incarnation means that God is for us

Paul was not merely referring to the crucifixion when he wrote, “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:31-32). He was also referring to the incarnation, when Jesus left the side of the Father to become man and accomplish our salvation. The incarnation means that God is for us. Jesus left the Godhead and all the privileges thereof to die. He lived a humiliating and self-denying life to bring us to God, where there are pleasures forevermore (Ps 16:11). He veiled his awful and fearful holiness so that we could touch him, see him, know him, and love him. No longer does he say, “No man can see my face and live.” Today, he says, “See my face and be satisfied” (Ps 17:15).

When we live in light of the incarnation of Christ, our lives will be shocking to others. Although we are sons and daughters of the King, we must humiliate ourselves by serving others. All things may be permissible, but we will deny ourselves certain things or activities so that we can grow in our love for God and others. We will earn money, but we will strategize how to give it away for the sake of the kingdom. Living in a physical world, we will spend more effort on cultivating our inner beauty than our outer beauty. We will trust in the promises of God more than our circumstances because we know he is for us. When we live like this, people will think we are ludicrous. They will find our choices shocking. Yet we will point to the miracle of the incarnation of Christ. Our lives will testify to the great news of Advent. That news is this: Christ has come, God is with us.

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Bethany L. Jenkins is the Director of The Gospel Coalition’s Every Square Inch, the Director of Vocational & Career Development at The King’s College, and the Founder of The Park Forum. She previously worked on Wall Street and on Capitol Hill. She received her JD from Columbia Law School and attends Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, where she is a current CFW Fellow and a former Gotham Fellow through the Center for Faith & Work. You can follow her on Twitter.

Advent Restores a Song for the Suffering

Can you count how many times you have sung the popular Christmas hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel"? I can’t, but what is sad is that I often sing the words without meditating on them. It wasn’t until this year that the correlation of Christ’s name and singing these words weighed on my heart. My favorite is the last stanza, which says,

Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind In one the hearts of all mankind; Oh, bid our sad divisions cease, And be yourself our King of Peace. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

Emmanuel means God with us, so the words we sing don’t just offer a Christmas warmth and ring, but a true declaration that Christ’s coming will fulfill the redemption of the world. Yes, Jesus came to the earth and was born as a baby. That’s what our Christian culture often celebrates during Christmas, but I want to sing something more this year. Something that speaks to the mission we have because of his presence.

Emmanuel.

God with us.

He is with us already, he is with us still, and he is with us forever. I want to focus on the word “us,” which refers to the collective body of believers who rejoice together in this forever presence. In my favorite compilation of letters from Bonhoeffer, he explains this concept beautifully, “With God there is joy, and from him it comes down and seizes spirit, soul, and body. And where this joy has seized a person, it reaches out around itself, it pulls others along, it bursts through closed doors.”[1]

There is much to be celebrated during Christmas, but there is also something that we seem to miss. We do well to celebrate Christ in the manger—a humble servant coming to earth to bring light and joy. This Christmas cheer is the classic rejoicing during this time of year. We sing Christmas music, we share laughter with family, and we even shout out that “Jesus is the reason for the season!” However, a deep pain and suffering falls silent to the masses during the holidays. We take in so much that the silence of the world falls away. I only hear the ringing bell from the Salvation Army on my brief walk into the mall and even that delivers a pleasant sound to my ears. The suffering, lonely, and lost hear a different kind of ringing that’s typically not hope, rejoicing, or a bell. It’s an enclosing silence.

The silence isn’t filled by watching a crowded world celebrate a commercialized holiday. The celebration of hope and joy don’t make sense to those without, it only reminds them of their lacking.We need help remembering beyond this, that Christ came to restore a song to the suffering and silent. He came to embody the promise of an eternal and everlasting hope to mankind as a whole.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

See, we often don’t celebrate the greatest gift we have in his presence. The gift of harmony.

Emmanuel is more than a Christmas carol. It’s a song that sings of a name that has the power to gather the nations. And a name that declares the presence of God and the true need for Christ. As individual chords, we don’t produce the most pleasant sound. That’s because we represent only a single chord progression, but harmony is the sound of peace and unity. We can’t produce this without each other.

Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind In one the hearts of all mankind; Oh, bid our sad divisions cease, And be yourself our King of Peace.

This message is not new to your ears. I’m sure you will hear it many times. Our mission more than just feeling convicted and volunteering somewhere once. Instead, ask yourself: How does God with me transform my everyday life and those around me?

Read Luke 1. This story counsels us in three ways. First, the angel Gabriel appeared to Elizabeth before Mary, the mother of Jesus. Second, Mary was afraid, but she listened to the angel’s words from God and accepted them at face value. Third, Mary sung a song of praise. Again, what does this story look like translated into your life?

1. Who is your person of peace?

This person would be much like Elizabeth was for Mary, they can exhort and counsel you with their faith. Seek out a person who is in a different denomination or from a different ethnic culture but that lives in peace and models community well.

2. Define what you fear about facing your mission.

When you are well acquainted with your barriers, share them with God and ask for guidance. Remember his name, Emmanuel—he is with you as you go (Matt. 28:18-20).

3. How can you share your story of Emmanuel as God with us in your community?

Read Mary’s song again and study the story that is told. She shares of the counsel, guidance, and faithfulness of God. She said yes to God, and because of this obedience, we have Emmanuel. Use this as encouragement to share your own story with people who have not yet experienced the peace and presence of God. Doing so will cultivate and make great the name of Emmanuel in your community.

“Because of the tender mercy of our God,     whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,     to guide our feet into the way of peace.” - Luke 1:78-79

May we be a Church that does more than sing Christmas carols on Sunday. May we be a Church that invites and disciples others to sing of the same Savior. Different chords, but one song, a song that only sounds pleasing when sung together. This song declares our collective need for a Savior. It has the power to bid our sad divisions cease. Together, his church sings and begs for his return. We beckon him King of Peace!

1. Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, and Jana Riess. God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 2010. Print.

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Chelsea Vaughn (@chelsea725) 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.

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Editor: In advent, there’s a natural sense of restlessness in our world which only Jesus’ presence can bring peace and resolution to. Our desire is to drive our hope toward the incarnate Savior during this season. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth.

• The Arrival: Prince of Peace by Mathew B. Sims
• Advent Calls Us to Stay Awake by Freddy Williams and David Comstock
• And He Called His Name Jesus by Whitney Woollard

And He Called His Name Jesus

Jesus was born during the late Second Temple Period, a period charged with messianic expectation. For hundreds of years Second Temple Jews suffered beneath the foreign rule of one pagan empire after another. This instability energized the hopes of God’s people for deliverance and vindication. “Where is Messiah?” was the cry of every good Jew. They longed for Yahweh to deliver them from Roman rule by the hand of his Messiah just as he delivered Israel from Egyptian oppression in the days long ago. They were a people marked by the expectation that their God, the one true God, would intervene into human history, defeat their enemies, and reestablish David’s throne. Messianic expectation was expressed in the naming of baby boys with one of the more common Jewish names of the first century—Jesus. It’s the Greek form of the Old Testament name Joshua, meaning “Yahweh is salvation” (also “Savior” or “God saves”). It was a constant reminder that God would one day send a Savior to set his people free.

Imagine you’re a weary Jew in the first century. You’ve lived under the thumb of pagan rule your entire life. Your days are overshadowed by Roman oppression. You’re impoverished because of injustice. You walk through the streets of Jerusalem with the nagging sense that God has forgotten his people… he’s forgotten you. You’re losing hope with each breath. Suddenly you hear the faint call of a mother beckoning her son Jesus in for dinner. You pause, remembering afresh “Yahweh is salvation.” You close your eyes and breathe in a deep sigh of relief. One day Yahweh would indeed send his Messiah to save his people—of that you are sure.

Into this cultural context Matthew writes,

“Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus.

A Special Boy With A Special Mission

Jesus’ name may have been common but there was nothing common about Jesus of Nazareth. From his miraculous conception to his messianic mission, this little boy was altogether different. He was conceived from the Spirit (1:18, 20); he was born to save God’s people from their sins (1:21); he was the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy (1:22-23); and he was Immanuel, “God with us” (1:23). He wasn’t just another Jewish boy symbolically named for God’s salvation; he was God’s salvation. This could only mean one thing—the advent of Israel’s long-awaited deliverer was upon them!

Unfortunately, the deliverance Jesus brought wasn’t the deliverance expected. He didn’t come to overthrow the Roman Empire thereby rescuing Israel from external tyranny and setting them free (in the expected sense). He did come to save, but the ironical twist was that he came to save them from themselves! He came to set humanity free from the internal slavery of sin and brokenness. His messianic mission was to defeat Satan, sin, and death through his own death on the cross so that all who trust in him might be set free from sin. R.T. France further clarifies Jesus’ mission:

“His ministry will begin in the context of a call to repentance from sin (3:2, 6; 4:17)…he will also assert his ‘authority on earth to forgive sins’ (9:6). His mission will culminate in his death ‘as a ransom for many’ (20:28), ‘for the forgiveness of sins’ (26:28). [The point is… t]his son of David will not conform to the priorities of popular messianic expectation.”[1]

Many rejected Jesus (and continue to reject him today) because they failed to grasp that their deepest problem was the human heart. But the human heart has always been the problem. Israel, of all people, should have known this! They were the prototype of darkened hearts leading to personal enslavement. After being set free from slavery in Egypt, they enslaved themselves spiritually in their idolatry and worldly passions.

Biblical history testifies again and again to the fact that they didn’t need a national liberator; they needed a heart liberator. Isn’t this the need of all humanity? We need our hearts set free from sin so that we might run in the path of God’s commands (Ps. 119:32). And the only final cure for the human heart is bound up in the person and work of Christ—a special boy with a special mission.

Your Life Hinges On This Boy’s Name & Identity

Matthew writes his birth narrative in such a way as to invite thoughtful reflection on who this liberator is and what he came to do. The name Jesus reveals what he does—saves people from sin. While the title Immanuel reveals who he is—God with us. Your entire life hinges upon the implications of Jesus’ name and identity.

1. Through Jesus you experience God’s salvation

Christmas typically conjures up ideas of magical holiday moments and feel-good Hallmark movies. The season dances around the idea of salvation—someone saves Christmas, someone saves old Scrooge, someone saves the Grinch—but all too often the true salvation story is missed. The most “magical” news of all is that in Christ God has saved us from sin and death!

The gospel tells us that we were dead in our trespasses and sins (Eph. 2:1-2) and children of wrath (Eph. 2:3). We didn’t do or say bad things occasionally; we were enemies of God (Rom. 5:10), alienated and hostile in mind (Col. 1:21). Every single one of us stood condemned under God’s righteous judgments and there was nothing we could do to work our way out of this death sentence (Rom. 3:10-20).

However, this is good news of great joy because God intervened into human history in the form of a little baby boy named Jesus and promised to “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). He did what you and I were impotent to do—he made us alive together with Christ (Eph. 2:5). He put forth the perfect spotless Lamb, Jesus Christ, as the propitiation for our sin so that we could be justified by faith in him (Rom. 5:1). We have complete forgiveness and cleansing of sin by the blood of Jesus!

I’ve been a believer for thirteen years now and every Advent season I’m reminded afresh that “God saves” and he has done so through the coming of his Son Jesus. Jesus didn’t come to condemn “dirty sinners”; he came to bring life to the dead, healing to the broken, and hope to the downtrodden. He came to save messed up people like you and me. If you repent of sin and place your trust in Jesus, he delights to take away your sin and cleanse you from all unrighteousness. After all, Jesus was literally born to save people from their sins. It’s what he does!

2. Through Immanuel you experience God’s presence

The title “Immanuel” refers to Jesus’ deity (he is God) while simultaneously conveying his nearness to mankind (he is with us). The eternal Logos “became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (Jn. 1:14). In Christ, God condescended to man; he came to us as one of us so that we might know him and be known by him.

The fact that Jesus is Immanuel comforts during the holidays. Since God has come to you, you know you can come to him. You can come to him in your loneliness and fear and brokenness. December can be a bitter month for many as they find themselves alone or abandoned. I’ll never forget the first Christmas after my parents split. Long December by the Counting Crows was inescapably popular and Illinois seemed particularly gray (as if it wasn’t already gray enough!). Over the holidays we were “shipped” back and forth between houses as Adam Duritz slowly cooed me into depression. Almost twenty years later I still remember the profound loneliness I felt that Christmas. I was certain I would never feel comfort or peace again.

When I met Jesus, I happened upon a most beautiful truth—through my union with him God was with me. The Spirit of Christ took up residence in my heart and sealed me with his presence; thus I was never truly alone. God was with me during seasons of isolation and loneliness; he was with me in great disappointment; he was even with me during lonely Christmases.

Take comfort in the fact that Jesus is Immanuel; he is God with you.He is with you to comfort you but also to send you out to comfort others. Notice that Matthew bookends his Gospel with the promise of God’s presence. When Jesus came to earth he came as Immanuel, the manifestation of God’s presence with the power to save. When Jesus left the earth he promised this same enduring presence to all future disciples as he gave them the Great Commission. Immanuel promises to be with his disciples in every age to encourage, equip, and empower them to make disciples of all nations.

In this way Advent is missional. It reminds us that God sought us out and came to us in the incarnation. He brought us eternal comfort in the person and work of Christ. We’ve been promised that he is with us always, even to the end of the age (Matt. 28:20). Through his indwelling Spirit we are to seek out the lost and take that same message of God’s reconciling presence through Christ to the nations.

Who has God laid on your heart this season? Who needs to be comforted with the very comfort you’ve received in Christ? Christmas provides ample opportunities for sharing the gospel with others. Be bold in your witness knowing that God’s presence will empower you as you speak life, peace, and joy to those around you.

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

This Advent season create moments to stand in awe of Jesus, the one born to set God’s people free. Rejoice in him, the one who delivered you from the suffocating grip of sin and death. Take heart, your sins have been forgiven! Could there be a greater gift?

And, in the midst of all the Christmas chaos, find rest in Immanuel. God is with you—with you to comfort you in loneliness and with you to encourage you on mission. Worship him for his first advent and look forward in anticipation to his second coming. May you see past the consumerist frenzy long enough to cry out “Come, Thou long expected Jesus!”

Come, Thou long expected Jesus Born to set Thy people free; From our fears and sins release us, Let us find our rest in Thee.

Israel’s Strength and Consolation, Hope of all the earth Thou art; Dear Desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver, Born a child and yet a King, Born to reign in us forever, Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.

By Thine own eternal Spirit Rule in all our hearts alone; By Thine all sufficient merit, Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

[1] France, R.T. The Gospel of Matthew. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2007. Print.

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

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Editor: In advent, there’s a natural sense of restlessness in our world which only Jesus’ presence can bring peace and resolution to. Our desire is to drive our hope toward the incarnate Savior during this season. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth.

• The Arrival: Prince of Peace by Mathew B. Sims
• Advent Calls Us to Stay Awake by Freddy Williams and David Comstock

Loving Enough to Share Our Lives

Not too long ago, I stopped through the grocery store on the way home after a long day at the office to pick up a few things. I was so focused on getting in and getting out, I was nearly running to get what I needed. In the midst of scaling my list of necessities, I found my heart prodded to share the gospel with a complete stranger that stood near me in the middle of the frozen meat section. In public, I often wonder if the people that surround me know Christ personally. This particular wonder developed a desire within me to share Christ with this person. However, doubt enveloped me. What if I act on this pressing from the Holy Spirit to tell this person about what Christ has done on their behalf and it blows up in my face? After all, it’s likely that they’re going to be like, “Dude, I’m really just trying to buy some pork loin. Can you leave me alone?” I let this prevailing thought win. I didn’t act in obedience to what I was being called to do.

Have you ever felt the need to say something, but because of your pride you didn’t? Here’s mine: Sharing my faith isn’t easy.

It’s rather hard. I fail even when I know I’ve been qualified and empowered to do so. At times, I talk myself out of doing it. It’s uncomfortable. I don’t want to impose on them. Maybe you’ve experienced these same feelings. A study conducted by LifeWay Research a couple of years ago concluded that 80% of “church-going Protestants” believe they have a personal responsibility to share their faith. Yet, only 39% of those surveyed had done so in the previous six months. If it was easy, surely more people would do it, right?

Think back with me to the last time you shared the gospel of Jesus Christ with someone. Was it last week? Last month? Last year? What drew you into that conversation?

When I share the gospel, it’s often a result of reminding myself what was done for me through the death and resurrection of Jesus. I remind myself who I was—dead in my own sin and transgression and unable to do anything within my own strength to bring about a change in myself. When I reflect on the fact that when I was utterly helpless, God stepped in and saved me though I deserved nothing but death, I am unable to be apathetic. God’s grace and mercy on my behalf overwhelms me and my thankfulness expresses itself through the desire to share the gospel with others.

The desire to share the gospel is love. Through the beautiful and gruesome display of affection on the cross to the triumphant conquering of the grave, God has has been lavishly bestowed love on us. 2 Corinthians 5:14 says, “The love of Christ controls us.” The love that we’ve experienced spurs us on that others may join in the hope that we’ve received. Pastor Robby Gallaty puts it this way: “The gospel came to you because it was on its way to someone else.” The intent of our receiving the gospel was not that we would hold onto it with clinched fists. When we truly love others, we set aside every comfort and pleasure for the sake of salvation.

The Apostle Paul understood this love well. He allowed this love to control his life. Because of the gospel, Paul loved and cared for unbelievers with such intensity, that it drew him to travel over 10,000 miles throughout his missionary journeys. However, was sharing the gospel the pinnacle of the abundance of his love for people?

DO WE LOVE ENOUGH TO SHARE OUR LIVES?

In his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul writes:

“So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our very own selves, because you has become very dear to us.” – 1 Thessalonians 2:8

When we share the gospel, God does the work of salvation.It often doesn’t require much from us. For our part, we see lost people excitedly come to new life in Christ then feel as though our job is to move on to the “next one.” That particular regenerate person is “finished.” This is a model of sharing the gospel that the Western Church has “perfected.” Paul is speaking here of a sharing that results in a greater depth than mere words. He writes that his affection for those in Thessalonica has drawn him to share his life with them.

This was not just any affection, mind you. When Paul writes that the Thessalonians had “become very dear,” he uses the Greek word agape. Agape love means sacrifice. Paul’s love was devoid of seeking personal comfort, because the grace of the gospel had taken hold of his heart.

What does that even require? How was Paul really sharing himself with these people? He expounds in verses 10-12:

“You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless was our conduct toward you believers. For you know, like a father with his children, we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into His own kingdom and glory.”

Paul, along with Silas and Timothy, offered themselves up to be examples in which the Thessalonians could follow. Essentially, here’s what they were saying:

“You’ve been brought from being dead to being disciples. You’ve committed yourself to a lifetime of followership, allow our lives to be the blueprint for how you ought to live out every aspect of your life for the Lord Jesus.”

The growing body of believers in Thessalonica was very young. Paul knew that sharing the gospel but leaving without teaching them the discipline of being a disciple would be disastrous. He goes so far as to say that his love for this body was likened to that of a father for his children. Is there a greater connection than a father and his children? A mighty love compelled by the gospel enveloped the heart of Paul. He loved them as his own and committed himself to their maturing in Christ.

This was hardly a Pauline initiative. The Gospels paint a vivid picture of the imperative of life investment. The mission of Christ was world evangelization. His method was making disciples. And the same mission (Matt. 28:18-20) that the Father sent him to do, he was sending his followers to continue (Jn. 20:21). Paul understood well that a disciple is a student of Jesus, so devotion to discipleship was imperative in his life. His desire was that those who God was sending him to reach would join him in this lifelong process in Christlikeness.

And so, if Paul was to be like Christ, he would need to invest his life in other men so that they would multiply and make more disciples. His understanding of the gospel as word and deed led him to teach others what it looked like to pick up their cross and follow after Jesus. There is no other option. We follow in the footsteps of Christ and make disciples his way. Who are you loving enough to intentionally invest your life into, for the sake of joining Christ in his mission of making disciples who make disciples?

This process involves investing in life with others and showing them how the gospel permeate every area of your life. I meet with a couple of guys weekly for Bible study and Scripture memorization. If I were to confine this discipleship group to getting together once a week, it would hardly be life investment. We eat together; we also pray together outside of our meetings. We enjoy playing nine-ball together. My goal is that these men would see how Christ is preeminent in my life, in every circumstance. We really are investing in life together.

PRACTICAL

What does it look like for me to allow someone to imitate me as I imitate Christ?

1. Pray and ask who God might allow you to disciple. Who has God placed within your sphere of influence that might need spiritual direction? When I was discipled, it started with a man approaching me and saying: I see that you desire to grow in your relationship with Christ, but you just aren’t sure what your next step is. Allow me to help you. It was true. I did desire a deepened and more meaningful relationship with Christ. Yet, no one had ever taught me what that looked like.

2. Allow those you lead to see how the lordship of Christ governs your life. Let them see what Spirit dependence truly looks like and how the Word of God informs every decision you make. Allow them to see your shortcomings and failures and remind them that the goal is progression, not perfection.

3. Let the Word of God be the foundation throughout the discipleship process. Teach them how to study the Word, how to store the Word, and how to share the Word. Create accountability with each other, holding fast to Paul’s commitment to the Thessalonians to “charge you to walk in a manner worthy God.”

More discipleship classes or programs will not work. We’re going to have to allow the love of God through Christ to control us that we might share our very lives with others for the sake of the gospel.

—

Tre Wiggins is the Campus Pastor at Kennesaw Mountain High School with NorthStar Church in Kennesaw, Ga. Tre grew up in Warner Robins, Ga. in 2009, he left to attend Kennesaw State University, where he met his wife Rachel, and eventually earned a degree in Political Science. You can connect with him on Twitter @trewiggins7

Fight or Flight? Engaging Opposition in Social Media

In 2006, Jack Dorsey and his peers put their heads together to create what we now know as Twitter. Dorsey, years later, shared why the name made perfect sense for their product:

[W]e came across the word ‘twitter’, and it was just perfect. The definition was ‘a short burst of inconsequential [read: insignificant] information,’ and ‘chirps from birds’. And that’s exactly what the product was.¹

When I saw the company’s CEO refer to Twitter’s original intentions with this kind of nonchalance, I was floored. I certainly don’t think Dorsey expected Twitter to become what it is today, not only in terms of size and popularity. I think even the purpose of Twitter has done an about-face. Everyone is on Twitter with a mission to be affirmed for what they’re saying or selling. Everyone has significant information for the masses to hear. Even the “Follow” and “Retweet” actions are often viewed/used as a vote of support or endorsement, which only furthers users into the mindset that what they have to say is of extreme importance.

Facebook follows a similar line. The etymology stems from its simple purpose: connecting people. It was designed primarily as a connecting tool, helping university students see who is in their class, who shares mutual friends, and so forth. Though they have become the most widely visited social networking site in the world, I would argue that our purpose for Facebook has shifted. Oftentimes the goal of Facebook is no longer to connect, but to exhibit the disconnect between people, groups, sects, and parties. Long gone are the days when family pictures and literal “status updates” were the majority of Facebook feeds. “Status Updates” are now “Opinion Updates,” where we clue in our friends how we feel about a current event. Most of the pictures shared on the site are shared precisely because of their divisive message in nature. Oftentimes satirical or sarcastic, oftentimes offensive, oftentimes not the kind of pictures Facebook was designed to share.

What is the end result of these two streams of thinking? “Listen to me. I am against this.” This causes a fault-sized divide day in and day out. Pick your topic: Syrian refugees, #BlackLivesMatter, Planned Parenthood, child vaccinations.

Fight

In today’s culture, social media is a Coliseum of sorts.Like the famous Rome amphitheater, social media sites have become architecturally designed to create gladiator-like battles between opponents, all while the masses cheer on from the stands. Not only do we want to wage war with our enemies and slaughter them in the public square, but we want the crowd to roar in approval all the while.

Comments have turned into pre-meditated, bloodthirsty diatribes, where we nearly max out the 8000-character limit, or we start a chain of 140-character tweets to get our full message across. Hashtags have been implemented as a way of raising what flag you represent and waving it for everyone to see. These are even further provoked when the “Trends” section features controversial talking points, inviting the crowds to pick up their weapons and wage war. What was once deemed “chirps from birds” have become sharp talons we use to sink into our opponent, sometimes passive-aggressively, sometimes outright.

Flight

But not everyone is out for digital blood. Some, in fact, have gone to the opposite end of the spectrum. They disengage and want no part of it by avoiding the Coliseum altogether. They “take the high road” and leave social media, when in reality they may be taking the high horse. Or (perhaps worse), they want to sit in the stands, watch everyone else fight, and spend their entire time being critical of those fighting in the arena. These people love to tell others that it’s so beneath them to be involved in the current online Coliseum. They’re the good guys. They’re staying out of it. When in reality, they’re just being “holier than thou.”

The constant flood of metrics around every status update, every tweet, every post beckons us to “be entertained.” Even a popular meme floats around social media that expresses this idea. It’s a picture of Michael Jackson, famously eating popcorn in his Thriller music video, with a remark that says, “I’m just here for the comments.” This is flight at its finest: A kicked-back, popcorn-eating attitude while watching the melee.

Neither extreme works. A fight-heavy approach leaves folks battered with deep wounds. A flight-heavy approach leaves folks disengaged and careless. Neither can be the answer, and neither are what God has called us to in Scripture. So, how do we respond? What is the right approach to engagement with opposition on social media?

We must use wisdom, which means it isn’t cut and dry. There is a give and take and the pendulum swings constantly. We must navigate these obstacles when addressing how we engage with others in social media. We must evaluate ourselves. Below are some introspective diagnostic questions we can ask ourselves in our own social media habits. I do not have the silver bullet for this dilemma. Many times I have wrongfully abandoned these self-checks, but I hope to launch the dialogue and save some of you from making the kinds of mistakes online that I have made. This list isn’t exhaustive, but it is an on-ramp to better, clearer thinking about how we handle being in the Coliseum of social media.

1. Do I know where I stand, and why I stand there?

The most fundamental problem with evangelicals is our lack of familiarity with Scripture. Christians are called to “always be prepared” (1 Pt. 3:15), but many of us lack proactiveness in this regard. J. Vernon McGee comments:

The tragedy of the hour is that there are so many folk who say they are Christians, but the skeptic is able to tie them up into fourteen different knots like a little kitty caught up in a ball of yarn — they cannot extricate themselves at all. Why? Because of the fact that they do not know the Word of God.²

That was written over thirty years ago, but still rings true today. The reason culture equates the skeptic with reason as opposed to the Christian is because oftentimes it’s the Christian who cannot formulate a seemingly reasonable argument for his position. We oftentimes look like Peter online. We draw our sword to bring harm (Jn. 18:10) or we just want to withdraw completely (Jn. 18:25). We act out of fear or emotion instead of reason and wisdom. If we cut their ear off, they won’t hear.

In order to engage opposition correctly, we must first know what kind of weapon we have in the Word, and more so, how to handle it. This means before turning to Facebook to share our opinion on a current event, we must turn to the Scriptures to discover how God’s Word may advise us. As I’ve said before, your words will always be fruitful if they are founded in Scripture and prayer. We wouldn’t trust our military to defend our country if they had absolutely no training with guns and weaponry. Why should the Christian be different? Preparation is vital to our message (1 Pet. 3:15). As John Newton notes, when God's Word is at the forefront of our attention, “We seldom make great mistakes.”

2. Do I know where he stands, and why he stands there?

A common mistake we make in engaging others online is that we don’t take enough time to reason with others from their perspective/worldview. We’re so infatuated with getting our point across that we’re susceptible to missing the undertones of what is actually being advocated for. Doing the extra work to understand other’s presuppositions will save us much trouble. This takes a lot of patience, listening, and not talking.

Proverbs tells us, “A prudent man conceals knowledge” (12:23) and “even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise” (17:28). This does not mean flight or avoiding the confrontation. It means shutting up. It means letting the opponent have the floor and respecting his voice. It means being wise and discerning.

It’s baffling why we Christians struggle with this, especially with unbelievers. For one, we know the truth, and it’s rooted in an omnipotent God. Nothing can stand superior to the truth of God and the Scriptures. We should believe, then, that the longer we let a skeptic talk, the more he will expose the flaws in his own logic, for it’s not truth! More than this, if we expect to be given a chance to share our beliefs or viewpoints, we must offer the same to our brothers and sisters online. Football teams study the opponent’s game film because they want to know how to capitalize on their weaknesses. We can only learn from our opponents when we practice careful listening with patience.

3. How am I loving people with the gospel?

That was terribly painful to type. I think back to many of my snide, off-center remarks made online. Harsh, bruising words leave a permanent online wound that no post editing or deleting can fix. Absence and silence is deafening when we don’t love unbelievers enough to share the good news we know. Any time we engage in discussion or debate online, especially when someone opposes our stance, this question should be burning in our hearts. It’s in these moments that we have a chance to demonstrate the offense and the love of the gospel all at once. The Holy Spirit will remove scales from eyes and soften hearts, so let’s be more concerned with loving our neighbor as ourselves. Sometimes, that means appropriate confrontation. Sometimes, it means private conversation. But it should always mean grace, humility, clarity, patience, more grace, and love.

The truth is, we do have significant message to share. We have the opportunity to connect authentically with real people. Fight won’t fix the dynamic of social media. Flight won’t fix it, either. Only the good news of Jesus Christ can bring true restoration, even to our communication! Until then, let us labor to be grounded in truth, patient to listen, and willing to love.

1. Sano, David (February 18, 2009). "Twitter Creator Jack Dorsey Illuminates the Site's Founding Document". Los Angeles Times. Retrieved June 18, 2009

2. McGee, J. Vernon. Thru The Bible Commentary. Accessed November 18, 2015 at http://preceptaustin.org/1peter_verse_by_verse__313-22.htm

—

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.

Advent Calls Us to Stay Awake

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever. Psalm 23

From the opening pages of the scriptures, from the creation narrative, God the Creator has been revealing who He is. It’s mind-blowing to think that we can actually know God, yet it’s fascinating to ponder that we can never exhaust the bottomless ocean of His character and nature. In every nook and cranny of this world, God is exposing who He is and telling His story. From the unknown depths of the oceans to the peak of Everest, from the sheer magnitude of the universe beyond us to the complexity of the universe within us, from the miracle of birth to the burden of death, amongst fauna and flora, He is telling His story. His fingerprints are everywhere. God’s name echoes off the walls of creation and His story reverberates in the corridors of humanity’s hearts. Like a master artist who signs his name on his work, His creation is saturated with His signature. From the joys of watercolor sunsets to the darkest sorrows; from yesterday’s regrets to every tomorrow, He greets us and signs: I love you.

Why would God go to such extreme lengths to reveal the depths of who He is?

You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29v13

These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ.

Colossians 2v17

It seems God has always desired to be known by His creation, revealing Himself in the most unlikely and unforeseen ways to His people. Through slavery, exile, and defeat; through freedom, return, and victory; through His anointed prophets, angelic messengers, and the generations of silence, God has been preparing to reveal Himself in the most provocative of ways.

Not long after Gabriel appeared to Zechariah in the temple, the scriptures say, “The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth” (Luke 1v26). Two thousand years ago, Nazareth was a town sinking into obscurity and so corrupted by godlessness that Nathaniel remarked, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” (John 1v46).

Why Nazareth?

Why not Rome? It was the most powerful and influential city center and capital city of the superpower in the world at the time, the Roman Empire. Maybe Greece? It was the cultural epicenter of the world. Even Ephesus was an integral and influential port city. But Nazareth? Really? That’s like saying, why not New York City, LA, or Seattle? But Toad Suck Arkansas? Really? Yes, really. Nazareth was the backdrop for the next events that unfurled.

If the conception of God’s plan wasn’t already obscure enough, Gabriel was specifically sent to speak with a young virgin girl named Mary who was betrothed to an honorable man named Joseph. Mary was most likely around the age of fourteen. So rewind the narrative a bit. Four hundred years of silence was finally broken, when an angelic messenger of the Lord visits an old, ordinary, and obscure priest whose wife was barren and childless; he then approaches the tiny town of Nazareth to hang out with a nearly preteen virgin girl named Mary. What an unlikely and obscure way to restore hope amongst God’s people and establish His kingdom.

“And that is the wonder of all wonders, that God loves the lowly…. God is not ashamed of the lowliness of human beings. God marches right in. He chooses people as his instruments and performs his wonders where one would least expect them. God is near to lowliness; he loves the lost, the neglected, the unseemly, the excluded, the weak and broken.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Interestingly, the honorable man Joseph, who was engaged to be married to Mary, comes from the bloodline of the most beloved, revered, and respected king of the Jewish people, King David. He, by the way, was the least likely candidate to be the next king. Plucked out of obscurity, David was a scrawny, young, courageous shepherd boy, who faithfully tended his father’s flock (1 Samuel 16). The psalmist writes, “He chose David his servant and took him from the sheepfolds; from following the nursing ewes he brought him to shepherd Jacob his people, Israel his inheritance” (Psalm 78v70-71). God has a pretty good track record of inviting everyday, ordinary people to join Him in His work.

For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.

1 Samuel 16v7

Gabriel went to Mary and said, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you.” How do you think Mary responded? You guessed it. Just like every other human being has ever responded in the presence of an angel: with complete and total fear. The scriptures say she was greatly troubled and didn’t know how to discern the gravity of the moment. Gabriel responded to the virgin, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord will give to Him the throne of His father David, and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of His kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1v30-32).

These few verses in the biblical narrative fulfilled many Old Testament prophecies with which the people of God would have not only been familiar, but for which they would have eagerly waited and fervently anticipated. In Genesis 49, Jacob is blessing his twelve sons and simultaneously his blessing served as a prophecy. His descendants would be rulers and one of them would be an ultimate ruler. Jesus was born two thousand years later and Jesus’ ancestry traces back to Jacob’s son. Six hundred years before Gabriel visits Mary, the prophet Jeremiah writes that the messiah will be a descendant of King David (Jeremiah 23v5). A hundred years before Jeremiah, the prophet Isaiah writes that there will be a sign: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call His name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7v14). Immanuel means “God with us.” These are words of promise. God has not forgotten us. God’s people longed to be with God. Ever since the days of Eden, we’ve all longed to be with God. The garden longing lingers heavy upon humanity.

The seemingly insignificant young Virgin Mary, living in obscurity, faithfully living a godly life amongst a godless people, is given one of the most significant roles in the most provocative story ever told. A nobody, living in a town full of nothing, in the middle of nowhere, had found favor with God. Just like the shepherd boy David and the old priest Zechariah before her, Mary was found faithful and God blessed her.

Mary genuinely asks, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1v34). She knows the words of the prophets from the past; she knows the messiah will be born of a virgin, she just asks how? Her questioning is different from that of Zechariah’s. The priest doubts; Mary ponders. In her inquiry, she contemplates the miracle. The angel answers, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God” (Luke 1v35). Every formation of life in the womb is a miracle. It’s a mystery that God has set and “put eternity in man’s hearts” (Ecclesiastes 3v11). Solomon says, “As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything” (Ecclesiastes 11v5). The virgin birth was the work of the Holy Spirit. Just as the Spirit of God was present and presided over the void before creation was conceived, the Spirit of God presides over the void in the womb of Mary as new life is conceived.

Concerned that Mary would be isolated and rejected by her community and family, Gabriel informs Mary that her old and barren cousin Elizabeth is also pregnant. “Wait, what? How can Elizabeth be pregnant? She’s well beyond child-bearing age and she’s been barren her entire life!” Gabriel shares this news with Mary to encourage her and increase her faith. She knows that Elizabeth isn’t the first woman in the scriptures to conceive a child out of barrenness. She knows it must be the work of God. Many scholars believe that barren women who eventually conceived, which is against nature, would be used throughout Israel’s history to prepare Mary (and the world) for this moment. The intricacies of God’s story are stunningly beautiful. “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1v37). Gabriel assures Mary that God does not fail. And now, she will not have to navigate this pilgrimage alone.

“Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1v38).

Facing the certain reality of the how this will change her standing with her soon-to-be husband, with certain rejection of her community and with her reputation on the line, Mary faithfully and humbly says yes.

—

My son Moses loves adventure stories. About a year ago, we began a nighttime story routine. The stories were always the same. An unlikely hero overcomes some crazy predicament that seems impossible to escape. My son loved it, mainly because he was always the unlikely hero. Deep down, my son has a desire to participate in the impossible. The beauty of Advent is that it gives us the opportunity to show our children how we have been invited into the impossible to participate in the miraculous work of God to redeem and save His people. In this story, Jesus is the unlikely hero, but we in Him get to participate in the impossible.

May our children hear the voice of God inviting them to humbly participate in the impossible.

— In 2012, Freddy planted ekklesia, in the suburbs of St. Louis, with the desire to understand the everyday rhythms of the church. This exploration led to conversations on understanding family more deeply. As a former student pastor, family pastor, and now church planter, Freddy has a desire to rekindle an old conversation in new generations - to tell an old story. This is the story of Jesus, the story that shapes all stories. May this story be told in our homes for generations to come. Freddy, his wife Michele, and two sons Ryder and Scout live in St. Charles, Missouri.

David planted Mid-Cities Church in St. Louis, MO in 2014. He is passionate about seeing God's message of reconciliation bring about tangible transformation in both the hearts of people and the life of his city. As our hearts are connected with the Father's heart the message of the gospel becomes clear and the work of Jesus becomes a reality. David is passionate about connecting those dots for others. David, his wife Tara, his daughter Julia and son Moses live in Maplewood, Missouri.

Visit Story Catechism and check out their books. Use promo code gcdadvent for 15% off. Also, they were generous enough to share a free sample of two of their books with GCD’s readers (download sample: Story and Advent).

Evangelization Through Repentance

“I almost lost my witness.” These words, said—often in jest—by a former (very southern) seminary professor of mine, often echo in my head when my driving affirms the stereotypes about native New Yorkers and their driving habits. It doesn’t make my overreactions to the bad driving of others right, but it often makes me thankful that I’ve never given in to the pressure to broadcast my faith with a “Jesus fish” on my bumper. Whether you’re an aggressive driver or not, I don’t have to be a prophet to know that everyone has sinned in a public setting. Does this then put us in danger of, as my seminary professor said “losing” our witness?

Dealing With Sin Is Part Of Sanctification

Dealing with sin is essential for following Jesus. We follow a perfect Savior who never sinned. We rightly want to be like him, but we follow imperfectly. And when we take our eyes off of him for even a moment, we return to the sin that we previously swore off. Proverbs “beautifully” compares us to dogs returning to our vomit when this happens (Prov. 26:11). Most every Christ-follower has exclaimed, “I thought I’d dealt with this sin!” when a familiar pattern of the flesh rears its ugly head after months without any significant incident. Such is the awkward and often frustrating dance of sanctification.

It is possible to teach old “dogs” new tricks and replace their diet of vomit with righteousness, but it is painfully slow and wrought with discouraging setbacks. John Owen wrote:

"The growth of trees and plants takes place so slowly that it is not easily seen. Daily we notice little change. But, in course of time, we see that a great change has taken place. So it is with grace. Sanctification is a progressive, lifelong work (Prov. 4:18). It is an amazing work of God's grace and it is a work to be prayed for (Rom 8:27)."[1]

No great oak tree sprouted overnight, it takes decades to grow to an impressive stature, and so it is with growing in Christ-likeness. We notice little growth when comparing yesterday to today, but when we look back on our life as a whole we notice a gradual trajectory growing toward Christ.

When we find ourselves in the aftermath of our own sin and are face to face with the victim of it (like my illustration of the traffic confrontation), we are at a crossroads: Will we harden our hearts and deny our sin? Will we rattle off excuses of why our sin was just under the circumstances? Or will we deal with it, admitting that we messed up and repent?

A Man After God’s Own Heart

Each of us could point back to examples in our own life where we admitted our sins, accepted God’s grace, and moved on grateful and in awe of his work in our life. Other times, we hardened our heart and moved away from God in pride and selfishness. I know this is true of everyone because the Bible is replete with examples of it and the nature of being a fallen being guarantees it. David’s life is a great case study.

The man after God’s own heart blew it when he acted on his sinful impulses to pursue Bathsheba (2 Sam. 11). But God gave him opportunities to repent. The first came when God opened her womb to conceive. Rather than confess, David tried to cover up his sin (much like his father Adam did in the garden) by encouraging Uriah to sleep with Bathsheba to cover up their sin. When this backfired, David resorted to murder (death is never far away when we let sin run its course). But even after hardening his heart at both opportunities to bring his sin to light, God did not let him go. Instead he graciously used the clever prophet Nathan (2 Sam. 12) to expose the sin and bring David to repentance. The drama of this event is better than the best of day time soaps and gives us keen insight into the human heart and the depth of our fall.

It’s in David’s repentance that we see the scandal as he cries out for forgiveness

“Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness.” (Psalm 51:13, 14)

We tend to think the best way to witness to the transforming power of Christ is to project images of ourselves as sanitized saints free from the ugly taint of sin. But Psalm 51 gives us a glimpse into the evangelistic power of repentance. David’s prayer is essentially, “I’m dirty, everyone knows I’m a sinner, please cleanse me, and my sin will be the means for testifying to others about your righteousness.”

Notice, the righteousness he is pointing to is not his own. How could he possibly deceive himself into thinking he had any righteousness of his own? He had slept with another man’s wife and had Uriah’s blood on his hands! He needed to be cleansed of the blood and only God could “wash him white as snow” (Ps. 51:7). His method for testifying about the goodness of God was not to spin his life story to make him look flawless but to point to God’s grace in the midst of his sin. The gospel we proclaim is not that we will no longer sin once trusting Christ for salvation, but that God is good and forgives even the most wretched of human behavior. This is Good News for both the Christian sinner and all sinners. When the thin veneer of having-it-all-together cracks like a piece of cheap furniture we are presented with a short window to proclaim the goodness of the God who is not surprised by our sin and had a plan in eternity past to deal with it. David learned the invaluable lesson that our sin always finds us out (Num. 32:23). The wages of that sin is always death (Rom. 6:23). In David’s case, God spared his life, but not the life of the child (a small glimpse into the future where another child from David’s line would die on his behalf to pay for the totality of all human sin). Amazingly, David uses his sin as an opportunity to tell others about the God who forgives, and he does so not by minimizing or hiding his sin, but using it as a launching pad into the Good News of the God who cleanses us from it.

With Sin Comes Opportunity

Martin Luther famously started his 95 Theses with these words: “When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said "Repent", He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” In other words, repentance isn’t a one-time event and it isn’t just for “new” believers. It should be the distinguishing mark of every disciple. Yet, so often we unintentionally function and speak as if all of our days of repenting are behind us. Out of a fear of “losing our witness” with those outside the Church we try to sweep our sin under the rug and present ourselves as those who “have it all together.” We come off as phony and insincere (dare I say hypocritical?). When we do this, in an ironic twist of providence it often backfires and has the opposite effect. Who could possibly be drawn to the Savior we represent when we represent him so poorly and give the impression we’ve committed no sin to be saved from?

A shift in thought is needed when we find ourselves in a confrontation with someone we’ve sinned against. Instead of trying to minimize our own sin and point out the sins of the other party we actually have an incredible opportunity to witness to the transforming power of the gospel in all its messy beauty. But this has the odor of death to it, as growing in Christ-likeness always does. But for the believer, with death comes resurrection.

The Good News

In the upside-down economy of the Kingdom of God we are offered eternal life in Christ (Jn. 3:36). But Jesus counter intuitively calls us to die in taking up our cross to follow him (Luke 9:23). How can these two seemingly contradictive offers be reconciled? The answer is found in the Christ of the resurrection.

Every time a Christ follower sins against someone outside the Church there is an opportunity to take up our cross and follow Christ. Will you try to sweep your sin under the rug like David and cause the other person, like Uriah, to bear the brunt of it? Or will you die to yourself and your desire to have a “clean” image? To think that the only sinless person who ever walked the earth didn’t answer his accusers but silently absorbed their scoffs and blows for the benefit of others leaves us with no excuse.

When the still small voice of the Holy Spirit prompts us to own up to our sin and repent of it we will experience a small sort of death: the death of the flesh (Rom. 8:13). This death, what the Puritans called “mortifying the flesh,” is the arduous path to growing more like Christ and in it he meets us there and resurrects us to life in him. Sin always requires death, either ours or someone else’s. Will we die to our pride, our selfish desire to defend and justify ourselves or accept his death on our behalf and clothe ourselves in his righteousness and life? Transparency about this painful process with those witnessing it (and sometimes falling victim to it) is one way of making and maturing disciples.

[1] The Holy Spirit, 108-109

— Sean Nolan (B.S. and M.A., Summit University) is the Family Life Pastor at Christ Fellowship Church in Fallston, MD. Prior to that he served at Terra Nova Church in Troy, NY for seven years and taught Hermeneutics to ninth and tenth graders. He is married to Hannah and is about to be a father for the second time. He occasionally blogs at Hardcore Grace.

Following a Crucified Messiah

Lately my self-talk has been more subtle than usual, but no less harmful. During an ongoing season of being stretched in about every imaginable way, I’ve caught myself offhandedly thinking, “Don’t you wish you chose an easier path?” Or, “Why can’t you just have a normal, more comfortable life?” Undoubtedly, in these moments, I’m believing the lie that I can be a follower of Christ and a friend of the worldI want to experience all the benefits of salvation without the consequences of following Jesus. I want to follow Him and have a comfortable, convenient life. I start buying into the idea that my time is mine, my money is mine, my plans are mine, my family is mine, even my physical life is mine. But, when I stop and think about it, it’s actually quite ridiculous. As a Christian, I serve a crucified Messiah! To act as though this doesn’t have implications for my own life is simply foolish.

As a matter of fact, the words of Jesus in Matthew 16:24 make it clear what following a crucified Messiah will demand—devotion unto death.

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

The literary context is key to understanding the full thrust of Jesus’ words. He says this to His disciples immediately after rebuking Peter for challenging His Messianic suffering (see Matt. 16:21-23). Surely Peter’s concern is not only for Jesus’ final destiny, but also for his own. You see, if Jesus were to go to Jerusalem, suffer many things and be killed (Matt. 16:21), it would have serious implications for anyone who identified with Him. Peter knows this and being influenced in some capacity by Satan (Matt. 16:23), attempts to prevent Jesus’ mission. Jesus, the condemned King on the road to His execution, rebukes Peter (Matt. 16:23) and goes on to make the disciples’ mission as explicit as His own (Matt. 16:24-28); His path would inevitably become theirs.

I SERVE A CRUCIFIED MESSIAH! TO ACT AS THOUGH THIS DOESN’T HAVE IMPLICATIONS FOR MY OWN LIFE IS SIMPLY FOOLISH

Jesus is demanding nothing short of a willingness to die (literally!) for His sake. This is important to realize because language such as “cross bearing” and “self denial” is frequently used among Western Christians to mean they missed the latest episode of The Voice to go to community group or they had to do coffee with “that” person on their day off. But this isn’t what He had in mind. Jesus wasn’t only speaking about the demands on His disciples’ lives, He’s referring to the future of the disciples’ deaths.

If you think this seems a bit extreme, it’s helpful to finish reading the passage (see Matt. 16:24-28 for the full account). Jesus continues by providing three reasons, set off by the word “for” (Gk. gar), in verses 25-27 as to why His followers should give up their lives. This is why they (and disciples today!) should be willing to lose their lives.

Reason #1. To lose physical life for the sake of Jesus is to find the only true life, which transcends death. “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matt. 16:25)

Reason #2. To save physical life and succeed in attaining everything the world has to offer is to ultimately lose eternal life. “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?” (Matt. 16:26)

Reason #3. To lose physical life out of loyalty to Jesus is to gain eternal reward on the final Day of Judgment. “For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done.” (Matt. 16:27)

What I find fascinating about Jesus’ words is that it isn’t a call to blind martyrdom. It’s a call to eternal life! Loss of life for the sake of mere self-denial is no gain. But, Jesus says, the life lost out of love for Him and loyalty to His mission is true life gained. Followers of Jesus must be willing to give all, even their very own lives, for the sake of Him and His eternal life.

And this isn’t bad news; it’s good news!

For those of us on this side of the cross, we know we’ve been saved through the sacrificial life, death and resurrection of the crucified Messiah. We have a fuller picture of Jesus’ redemptive work than the disciples originally did at the moment of hearing these words. We understand that Jesus’ radical call to die is really an opportunity to live. We know there is a type of life that leads to death and a type of death that leads to life!

FOLLOWERS OF JESUS MUST BE WILLING TO GIVE ALL, EVEN THEIR VERY OWN LIVES, FOR THE SAKE OF HIM AND HIS ETERNAL LIFE

Needless to say, the words of Jesus in Matthew 16:24 are incredibly convicting in light of my unbiblical self-talk. The temptation to ask, “Why can’t I just be a Christian and have a normal, more comfortable life?” doesn’t even make sense in view of Jesus’ words! When I say to myself, “Why can’t my path be easier? Perhaps I should have chosen option A instead of option B because it might have been a bit more comfortable,” I’m missing the entire point. Whether I chose path A or B in this lifetime isn’t of ultimate significance because thirteen years ago I chose to follow Christ.

Period.

I chose to follow a crucified Messiah knowing he demanded nothing short of my entire life. He demanded I be willing to die for Him. He demanded I be willing to be counted as a martyr for his sake. He demanded I be willing to lose this life so that I might gain eternal life. Therefore, every single decision I make while still breathing becomes subject to that first one.

WHETHER I CHOSE PATH A OR B IN THIS LIFETIME ISN’T OF ULTIMATE SIGNIFICANCE BECAUSE THIRTEEN YEARS AGO I CHOSE TO FOLLOW CHRIST

Period.

I had to remind myself of that this week. I had to spend time considering the crucified Messiah and His cross-centered perspective. I had to meditate on the implications that following Him has for my life. I had to remember that if I’m truly willing to die for Jesus, how much more should I be willing to live for Him by sacrificing my personal comforts, cares, concerns, and choices for the sake of Him and His mission? As I preached the gospel to myself using the truths highlighted in Matthew 16:24-28, my unbiblical self-talk simply lost it’s power.

—

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.

Used with permission. Originally posted at Self Talk the Gospel

The Arrival: Prince of Peace

Editor: Today we start our Advent series. There’s a natural sense of restlessness in our world which only Jesus’ presence can bring peace and resolution to. Our desire is to drive our hope toward the incarnate Savior during this season. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth. —

For many the holidays are a time of joy and merry-making with family and friends. We all have our own traditions. My family enjoys driving through our local park decked out in Christmas lights, visiting a local holiday fair, and taking a carriage ride in an adjacent community. I shouldn’t forget the food. We love some seriously good eats. And would it be Christmas without watching the classics? Elf. Miracle on 34th Street. It’s a Wonderful Life. Home Alone.

However, not everyone’s holiday memories are joyful and merry. Wendell Berry gets it right, “It is hard to have hope.” No other season of the year amplifies this difficulty like the holiday season. All of our misplaced hopes rise to the surface of our hearts and cause discontent and hopelessness. In part this be may due to the holiday façade. Commercials with happy families and friends gathered around the table and the Christmas tree. TV shows where “Christmas magic” makes everything better. Or the picture perfect homes in magazines.

What a juxtaposition. Hopefulness, joy, and merry making and hopelessness, conflict, and loneliness. So what if Christmas isn’t very merry? What if Advent doesn’t feel hopeful?

A PRINCE OF PEACE ARRIVES

For those who are dreading the holidays because of fear, hopelessness, conflict, and loneliness, hear the word of the Lord in Isaiah 9:6-7,

6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7 Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.

A child was born who brings peace. God offers terms of peace that he meets in the arrival of His Son. Isaiah, as we read, calls Jesus the “Prince of Peace” (9:6). Hear what the angels say when they announce the arrival of Jesus:

8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 10 And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14 “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

ON EARTH PEACE

I love how the KJV renders this announcement: “[O]n earth peace, good will toward men.” There’s an expectancy only fulfilled in the gospel. We know the peace is delivered through Jesus Christ, but how? This advent proclamation of peace is the foundation for Paul’s theology of justification. Without this proclamation there’s no justification! So let’s read what Paul writes about peace:

13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility 15 by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, 16 and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. (Eph 2:13-16 see also 6:14-15 “the gospel of peace”)

19 For in him [Jesus] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. (Col. 1:19-20)

1 Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. (Rom. 5:1-2)

It’s in Paul’s magnum opus, the letter to the Romans, that he makes the connection undeniable between peace and justification.

So when someone asks Paul “How can a righteous God make peace with man through Jesus?” Paul would say, in shorthand, justification. Study the ministry of Jesus—it’s centered on bringing peace to those who are sinners, sick, scandalized, and the poor in spirit. Jesus embodies and acts out the divine peace through justification by faith in the Gospels, whereas Paul explores and mines these truths systematically in his letters. Latter in the prophecy of Isaiah, the prophet writes,

5 But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. (Is. 53:5).

Jesus was crushed for our transgressions which brought us peace. Notice that stark juxtaposition—crushed and peace. Words that are not normal bedfellows.

PEACE FOR FAMILIES

Jesus’s arrival marks the proclamation of good tidings for everyone whom God is pleased with by offering peace with God by Jesus’ blood! And isn’t that good news for families who are hurting this holiday season? The beauty of God’s peace is that it’s not just an individual thing. This peace is covenantal and forms a community of people who have received peace and who can share that peace with others. For the family in conflict there can be peace. For the family ruptured by divorce there can be peace. For the family separated by death there can be peace. For those who feel the weight of loneliness there can be peace. For the husband and wife mourning childlessness there can be peace. Remember Isaiah 53:5? God crushed Jesus to bring us peace and healing. Paul echoes this same sentiment with a twist: “The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet.”

Those same odd bedfellows (“peace” and “crush”). Satan who is the father of lies and conflict and the dark prince of this fallen world will be crushed under our feet. The authority that Jesus wielded is passed on to us. With his presence (Matt. 28:19-20) and Spirit (Acts 1-2), we are ambassadors of peace in this fallen world and Satan will be ultimately crushed by the authority of the God of peace and his Church.

Dispense peace this week. Plead and pray and trust that the peace of Jesus will be with you and that others might see and receive this blood-bought peace this Advent season. Come alongside those who are hurting. And if there’s conflict in your family, lead with peace and grace and mercy.

Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace,

Hail, the Sun of Righteousness

Light and life to all He brings,

Risen with healing in His Wings.

Now He lays His Glory by,⁷

Born that man no more may die

Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth.

Hark! the herald angels sing,

"Glory to the New-born king!"

---

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

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Overcoming Discouragement in Ministry

Once a month, I have the great privilege of meeting with a number of extremely wise and godly ministers alongside of whom I minister in the PCA. We either discuss a topic or share with one another certain things that are going on in life or ministry. Recently, we shared with one another the ways in which we have learned to deal with discouragement in ministry. Here are a few takeaways from our time together:

1. We must remember that we need to be sanctified

Just as we often say that marriage helps us recognize our need for sanctification in areas that we might not otherwise see, so too in pastoral ministry. When the hardships and trials come, we must remember that we need to be sanctified in certain areas of our lives that we might not see, were the trials and challenges not there. For instance, pastors might not realize sinful anger that remains in their hearts until some unjust action takes place in the church and that anger begins to well up within. Pastors may not recognize their need to listen better or communicate better until some issue arises that helps them see their own sinful deficiencies. God may have placed this trial or challenge in your ministry to sanctify you as a pastor.
 We must remember that we need to grow in wisdom. Just as we need sanctification, pastors need wisdom. A faithful pastor will want to grow as a wise shepherd of the flock. Solomon asked the Lord for wisdom above everything else because he wanted to pastor God’s people with great skill (1 Kings 3:6-9). I have, many times, gone to older and wiser men for counsel as I face trials and challenges in ministry; and, I hope that, to some degree, I am growing in wisdom as I press through one challenge and head into another. The experience gleaned from both successes and failures often brings with it a greater measure of wisdom. We learn this from the book of Ecclesiastes. There were things that Solomon learned from the experiences of life. Often the trials and challenges of ministry serve as the vehicle by which God grows ministers in wisdom.

2. We must remember that we are insufficient for ministry

The Apostle Paul repeatedly told the members of the church in Corinth that ministers are insufficient, in and of themselves, for ministry (2 Cor. 2:16; 3:5: 12:9). This was necessary because there were certain “super apostles” who cast aspersions on the Apostle Paul were boasting as if they were sufficient. When trials and challenges come, ministers feel their own insufficiency. In the midst of challenges with congregants, ministers remember that they cannot change the hearts of the people to whom God has sent them to shepherd. In many cases, the only course of action in a particular trial is go to the throne of grace and plead with the Lord to bring whatever we are facing to a felicitous end.
4. We must remember our calling to ministry. When Timothy began to retreat from ministry, or act in fear, the Apostle Paul charged him to remember his ordination to ministry. In fact, he did it twice. In 1 Timothy 1:6, he wrote, “This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you, that by them you may wage the good warfare;” and in 2 Tim. 1:18 he told Timothy, “For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands.” Remembering that God has set us apart to pastor His people helps fan the flame of our zeal for ministry. This is essential for ministers to remember when the discouragements come in ministry. Knowing that God has called you into ministry enables you to keep going when things get tough.

3. We must remember that the particular church to which we have been called needs us to be faithful pastors

It has become almost cliche for ministers in Reformed churches to say things like, “Don’t think that God needs you for ministry. He can replace you with anyone He wants.” While this is absolutely true, it is just as right to say, “While God does not need you for ministry, the church to which you have been called does!” The Apostle Paul told the church in Philippi, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account” (Phil. 1:22-24). This is one of the keys to contentment in ministry in whatever church in which you serve. Pastors must remember, when they faced ministry challenges, that the Lord has called them–and not another–to minister in just the right church, in just the right town at just the right time.
6. We must remember that we have been called to suffer. There is a solidarity that pastors have with the Lord Jesus, the Apostles and other faithful ministers who have suffered before them. The Apostles strengthened the members of the early church with the following words: “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). We should not be surprised when trials and challenges come because God has promised that we will suffer. In one of his most astonishing statement, the Apostle Paul, told the church in Colosse, “I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church” (Col. 1:24). In 2 Corinthians 1:6-7, Paul wrote, “If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.”
7. We must remember that we are in ministry to bring glory to Christ. The ultimate encouragement to help ministers press through the discouragements they experience when they face trials and challenges is that we were created, redeemed and called into ministry in order to bring glory to Christ http://buff.ly/1X7M2Mq The cry of the ministers heart must ever be, “He must increase, I must decrease.” The ministries to which we have been called by God are not for our own glory. So often the discouragements that ministers feel are on account of a wrong view of ministry. A wise pastor once told me, “Too often, we think that we will be happy if we can get people to do what is right rather than simply being happy that we are doing what is right in order to bring glory to God. We do so while we recognize that only Jesus can bring about change in the lives of the members of the church or peace in whatever trial or challenge that we face.” We exist to bring glory to God through exalting the Lord Jesus Christ.

—

Rev. Nicholas T. Batzig is the organizing pastor of New Covenant Presbyterian Church in Richmond Hill, Ga. Nick grew up on St. Simons Island, Ga. In 2001 he moved to Greenville, SC where he met his wife Anna, and attended Greenville Presbyterian Theological Seminary. He writes regularly at Feeding on Christ and other online publications. Follow him on Twitter: @Nick_Batzig

Originally published at Feeding on Christ. Used with permission.

Holding Hands to the End ... and How Everything Sad Will Come Untrue

Being a pastor is a hard job, but I think it can also be the best job. As a pastor, I have had the privilege of being invited into the most sacred, intimate moments of people’s lives. When a baby is born, I get to be there. When a man and woman recite their wedding vows, I get to officiate in front of their closest family members and friends. When someone is dying—a man, woman, or child—I get to be there also. While each intimate event has its special features, the one that speaks to me most about God, humanity, and the meaning of everything, is the one that includes a deathbed. I am welcomed to the deathbed because of my role—to shepherd, comfort, pray and speak words of life to people in their final days. But these dear ones rarely see that almost always, I am the one who ends up being pastored, comforted, and instructed the most about God, humanity, and the meaning of everything, by them.

Close to Home

As I write this, I am aware of the clock. In four hours, I will accompany my parents to Vanderbilt Medical Center, where my mother will be examined by some of the best doctors in the world. As of late, Mom has struggled with a later-in-life condition that serves as a cruel reminder of human mortality. As I watch her struggle, I am filled with sadness and anger, two emotions that are familiar to Jesus. Tears about Mom’s situation remind me of the tears Jesus cried over the loss of his friend Lazarus. Anger about her illness reminds me of how Jesus got angry at death—that unwelcome, invasive guest in the garden of God that eventually gets us all (John 11:28-37).

As I watch my parents suffer together, I am deeply moved. All the temporal things that we in the modern west tend to build our lives upon—the accumulation of wealth, material things, health, popularity, status, career success and the like—these things fade into the background to a place of lesser gravity and significance. In their stead comes an awareness of the things that really matter; things like love, conversation, laughter, eye contact, holding hands to the very end, the treasuring of every moment, and tear ducts—the release valve that our weeping God created to help us exhale our grief. Tears are our stake in the ground, our tender yet tenacious protest against things like death, mourning, sorrow and pain—things that we know intuitively are not supposed to be.

I am also deeply moved by my Dad, whom I have always known as a person of stubborn strength. But his strength has taken on a new form these days, one that reveals something truly heroic in the man who, up until recently, I have never seen cry. Dad’s tender tears over Mom are giving me a fresh glimpse into the nature of God. God, in whose image Dad has been created, is a God who weeps over things gone wrong in his world. He is a tender God who takes no pleasure in sorrow, suffering or death. He is a God who comes alongside and assures us that he is there, and that we are never alone. Moreover, he is a God who suffered a voluntary death-blow, to save us from death’s ultimate and final sting and to assure us that he knows and has tasted death and sorrow firsthand. As we face our mortality, we now know that the immortal God did also. As we grieve the decline of those we love most deeply, we now know that God did also. God buried a Son, after all.

These days, Dad is giving me a glimpse of this God, and a front row seat to observe what a real man looks like. Dad’s tears are not a sign of weakness, but strength. The vulnerability of tears, and the admission of mortality that accompany those tears, is a sign of true greatness.

Dad never leaves Mom’s side these days. He is fully present with her, and he is fully present for her. His response to a struggling bride is to tell corny jokes that make her laugh. He holds her hand…a lot. He helps her with her hair and speaks tenderly, so tenderly, to her. These days, I catch myself looking at my Dad and thinking, “This is the kind of man, the kind of husband, the kind of lover, that I want to be.”

His valiant tears, even more than his strength and successes, make me want to be a better man.

The Pastor I Want at My Deathbed

Pastor David Filson, who serves on our team at Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville and is known by many as “Pastor David,” is a remarkable human being. He is remarkabe because of how he comes alongside people in their transition from this world into the next.

David does not avoid or run away from sorrow, grieving and death. Instead, he moves toward these unwelcome enemies of ours. He is always a first responder when people are in their most vulnerable moments. It is here that David shines. It is here that we get to see David at his best. Because no one is more aware than David of the power that Jesus gives us to stare death in the face and say boldly, “You have no power over us. You have lost your sting. In the end, you will lose. In the end, you will be swallowed up, O death, by the One who conquered and defied you with an empty tomb.”

This is why David and I have made a deal that I will go first, because I want him to be the one singing hymns and reading Psalms over my deathbed. I want him to be the one, after I breathe my last breath, who looks into the eyes of my wife and children and reminds them that death loses in the end, that resurrection is coming, and that we will all be eternally reunited together with Jesus and each other. I want him to be the one to preach hope eternal at my funeral. Because no one preaches a funeral like David Filson does.

How did David become the death-defying man that he is? The clear answer, as I see it, is that David has himself faced death many times. After a long battle with Alzheimer’s, his father was welcomed into the presence of Jesus. After being temporarily defeated by cancer, his mother, too, was transitioned to paradise. And then, as if to add insult to injury, the Filsons lost their dog. In these kinds of moments, David weeps a flood of tears. But through the tears he reminds his own soul that for the Christian, tears never get the final word. Like no one else I have known, David immerses himself in the Scriptural truths—the written-in-blood guarantees that death, mourning, crying and pain have no ultimate power over the story line for God’s children. Death and sorrow are merely a middle chapter, a chapter that will resolve fully and finally when Jesus comes to make his blessings flow, far as the curse is found.

In the struggle against death, real hope cannot be found outside of Jesus. To face death without the risen Jesus in our corner, without the faith that alone enables us to grieve with hope, seems unimaginable. But for those who do trust in Jesus, for those whose lives are forever “hidden with Christ in God,” there is an unshakable hope that will never perish, spoil, or fade away.

Christ has died; Christ has risen; Christ will come again.

The risen Christ has told us, “These things are trustworthy and true.” These things are so because he is the resurrection and the life, and those who believe in him, even though they die, yet shall they live…and everyone who believes in him shall never perish (Revelation 21:1-7; John 11:25-26).

Dying and Being Sad with Other-Worldly Strength

I have had the privilege, many times over, of walking closely with Christians in their final days. One such person was Billy.

Billy was 35 years old when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. For a few short months, I watched this loving husband and father of two wither away from the evil that had taken residence inside his lungs. When Billy was close to the end, I went to his home for a pastoral visit, but he ended up pastoring me instead. “Scott, let’s talk about you this time,” he said. “How are you? How can I serve you? How can I be praying for you?”

There we sat, a dying man offering hope-filled prayers of love and life for his able-bodied pastor.

Soon after this, Billy died before my eyes. I still remember that sacred moment like it was yesterday. Friends and family, including his wife Shannon, surrounded his bed and sang him into glory with hymns like Great is Thy Faithfulness and It Is Well With My Soul. This was their not-so-subtle way of defying death, and stirring the imagination with reminders of what is true, even truer than the wreckage before their eyes. They were preaching the gospel to their own souls, reminding themselves and each other that there is a weight of glory that awaits them all—a weight that is so wonderful and certain that even the worst affliction will, in the end, seem light and momentary by comparison (2 Corinthians 4:7-18).

After Billy gave his final exhale, I retreated to the waiting room. Here, I would sit and wait for Shannon to emerge. I anticipated all of the appropriate responses from this youthful widow—tears, anger, questioning God, stress and sorrow about pending funeral logistics and raising two children alone. The emotional roller-coaster would come to her eventually. But in that brief moment, Shannon became to me a sign from heaven, an other-worldly creature, perhaps an angel of sorts. The first words she spoke as a grieving widow and single mother were, “Scott, how are you doing? Billy was your friend. How can I  pray for you?”

As I walked to my car that day, I couldn’t help but think how unworthy I was to know people like Billy and Shannon.

There are also others. I could tell you about John, whose body literally wasted away from ALS in two short years, but who never grew cynical. Even on the hardest days, John was the most poised, prayerful and hopeful person in the room. Jesus and God’s promises of a new body and everlasting life, not his awful affliction, were John’s ultimate reality.

I could also tell you about Steven and Mary Beth, who several years ago held a funeral for their young Maria—a horror that no parent should ever have to experience. Through their deepest sadness, these wounded warrior-heroes went on national television, along with their courageous children, to tell the whole world that death will not win. Because Jesus has risen and defeated death, there is a final chapter yet to be written in Maria’s story—the chapter in which, as Steven has said in a song written in Maria’s honor, “Beauty will rise! Beauty will rise! We will dance upon the ruins; we will see it with our own eyes!” Also in Maria’s honor, Steven and Mary Beth opened Maria’s House of Hope, a place of refuge for Chinese orphans with special needs. Many of these children, like their Maria, will be adopted into permanent families through Show Hope, the non-profit that they founded.

I could also tell you about David and Nancy, who lost not one child, but two. Their Gabriel and Hope both died in infancy due to a rare congenital disease. Years later, the tears are still there and the grief is still real. And like Steven and Mary Beth, David and Nancy are stewarding their tears in a way that brings hope to others. Each year they sponsor and lead a conference that brings comfort and hope to parents who, like them, have lost a child. Additionally, Nancy, a prolific author, has written several books that help thousands of people process their pain beneath the shelter of God’s sovereign mercy and love.

Greatness Through Sorrow

As I consider these and others who have shown faith, courage, other-centeredness, and even joy in the face of sorrow and death, I have noticed a common theme that describes all of them:

They are all people who have, for years, leaned heavily on the Bible.

If you poke Pastor David with a fork, he will bleed Old and New Testament. When I asked Billy and John how they could live with such other-centeredness and other-worldly joy in their darkest hour, both said that they had read Scripture almost daily for years, and Scripture’s promises had prepared them for the hardest days. David and Nancy, Steven and Mary Beth, and many others would agree: Their refuge in the valley of the shadow of death is nothing more—and certainly nothing less—than God’s Bible promises about the future of everything, including promises like this one:

Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away…Behold, I am making all things new (Revelation 21:1-5).

In a strange way, I think those who lean heavily on the Bible are like the Olympic lifter who shows up at the gym every day for his workout. The unseen, daily, faithful routine—the crunches, squats, bench and shoulder presses, the bicep curls—these are his preparation for the day of heavy lifting when it finally comes. On that day, with all of his might, he lifts. He sweats, grunts and groans with all of creation. At moments, he doubts he will be able to find the strength to press through. But in the end, he overcomes. In the end, he wins the gold.

For a Christian, the daily workout is one of mind and heartInstead of treadmills, iron plates and weight benches, her equipment consists of a receptive heart, a belief that God is sovereign, wise, and good, and a well-worn Bible. Her final piece of equipment is the doubter’s prayer, the weighty prayer that must be “lifted” whenever she is tempted to follow her doubts and fears above what God has promised: “Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!” (Isaiah 55:8-9; Mark 9:23-25)

God’s promise is truly breathtaking, and is best summed up by CS Lewis, who said that for believers in Jesus, heaven will work backwards and turn even agony into glory. Or, as Lewis’ close friend JRR Tolkein hinted, in the next world, everything sad is going to come untrue.

One person who knew this future reality well, and who believed it all the way down to her bones, was Kara Tippetts—wife of Colorado pastor Jason Tippetts and mother of four—who died of breast cancer in her late thirties. Kara, knowing that her own death was immanent, wrote these words toward the end, an end which was also—if these promises of God are true—a glorious new beginning:

My little body has grown tired of battle, and treatment is no longer helping. But what I see, what I know, what I have is Jesus. He has still given me breath, and with it I pray I would live well and fade well. By degrees doing both, living and dying, as I have moments left to live. I get to draw my people close, kiss them and tenderly speak love over their lives. I get to pray into eternity my hopes and fears…I get to laugh and cry and wonder over Heaven. I do not feel like I have the courage for this journey, but I have Jesus—and He will provide. He has given me so much to be grateful for, and that gratitude, that wondering over His love, will cover us all. And it will carry us—carry us in ways we cannot comprehend.

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Scott Sauls is senior pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, Tennessee, and author of Jesus Outside the Lines: A Way Forward for Those Who are Tired of Taking Sides. You can connect with Scott at scottsauls.com or on Twitter at @scottsauls.

Originally published at scottsauls.com.

The Strange Silence

After the SCOTUS decision on same-sex marriage, evangelicals responded in droves through social media, sermons, and press releases. Our compulsion to respond is not surprising given core theological convictions about the institution of marriage. What is surprising is that evangelicals, with the exception of the ERLC headed by Russell Moore, have mostly remained silent in response to an onslaught of racial incidents: police brutality towards black young men, chants of lynching African-Americans by white fraternity members, and the killing of nine black Christians at a church in Charleston. Should we not speak? Why the strange silence when it comes to the scourge of racism? One thing’s for sure—it’s not for lack of something to say. Racism is rooted in sin and injustice—things about which the Bible has a lot to say. According to the Washington Post, recent polling on racial issues shows that approximately half of white Americans do not perceive any unfair treatment of blacks by police, employers, doctors, restaurants, or schools. This perception is especially the case for white evangelicals who tend to embrace an individualistic view of racism. In Divided By Faith: Evangelical Religion and the Problem of Race in America, Michael Emerson and Christian Smith show that, because of core theological convictions, white evangelicals are prone to spiritualize and individualize social ills—racism is reduced to personal racial prejudice and individual acts of discrimination. Given that understanding, the “race problem” really is quite minimal. As one evangelical pastor observes, “I don’t think there’s that much division. ... If we didn’t give it so much attention, I think it would die of its own accord” (Divided By Faith 83). The strange silence of evangelicals may stem from denial. If racism doesn’t exist, there is no reason to respond.

But our emphasis on individualism leaves us with an inadequate, truncated view of racism. Although much in the Bible points to the influence of social structures on individuals, evangelicals have historically had difficulty seeing racism as being anything other than an individual problem. Indeed, many white evangelicals would see any effort to define racism systemically as a sinful attempt to shift blame away from depraved individuals to “the system.” We are right to emphasize individual accountability and salvation—individuals must personally trust in Jesus Christ for salvation. But, in the wake of a barrage of racial incidents, it’s time for evangelicals to acknowledge that racism cannot ultimately be eliminated only through individual experiences of repentance and salvation.

First, evangelicals need to accept the reality that racism is both personal and systemic. According to the apostle Paul, sin expresses itself in the created order through “authorities” and “powers,” “spiritual forces of evil” which pervade all aspects of existence; these powers rebel against God and influence human existence toward evil through social, economic, cultural and political systems, practices and institutions that dominate, oppress and exploit (Eph. 6:12).  These powers affect all of us in both personal and systemic ways.

Racism is one of these “authorities” and “powers.” It is a structural evil—something that exists apart from the conscious willing of specific individuals, but nevertheless exercises controlling influence on how groups of people think and act. Racial bias in the United States may thus be seen in both personal attitudes and actions and structural patterns and practices. Most school administrators would deny being racist; black children, however, are three times more likely to be suspended or expelled from school by those same administrators than white children. Most employers would deny being racist; black college graduates, however, are twice as likely as white graduates to struggle to find a job. The New Testament is clear: Satan, “the prince of the power of the air” (Eph. 2:2), wants to exercise dominion over us. The adversary will attack on a personal level through attitudes of racial superiority and intentional acts of discrimination and he will attack on a structural level through patterns of oppression and practices of discrimination and exploitation. To respond to racism, the church must do more than preach an individualistic call to repentance and salvation. We must also engage the “authorities” and “powers.”

Perhaps the most disturbing reason evangelicals have been silent is that we have been seduced and enslaved by these “authorities” and “powers.” First, in our laissez-faire, consumer culture where churches market for members like Madison Avenue and congregants shop for a church like buying a car, pastors remain silent about systemic racism for fear of losing members or their job. Indeed, popular pastors and larger churches may be least likely to speak and act prophetically on racial issues because they have more to lose in the community by challenging the status quo (Divided By Faith, 166).

Second, enslavement to the powers can also be seen in the thousands of segregated churches dotting the American landscape. Not much has changed in the fifty years since Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. observed that is was “appalling that the most segregated hour of Christian America is eleven o’clock on Sunday morning.” According to one recent study, 86% of churches in the United States are still segregated—one racial group comprises at least 80% of the congregation.  While integration is the standard in society, segregation is the standard in churches.

Segregated churches initially developed as a consequence of slavery and Jim Crow laws. Today, predispositions toward homogeneity foster continued segregation. The reality is, however, that segregated churches lose their ability to influence culture toward racial reconciliation: pronouncements to “do as I say, not as I do” always fall on deaf ears. Segregated churches must remain silent because they rightly risk being labeled as “hypocrites.”

Third, segregated churches also promote prejudice and reinforce stereotypes, which further demonstrates enslavement to the powers. Christena Cleveland, in “The Myth of Harmless Homogeneity,” observes that decades of research indicates that segregation and prejudice have a bi-directional relationship:

“Prejudice tends to contribute to division between groups and division between groups tends to contribute to prejudice. ... What begins as seemingly harmless homogeneity often snowballs into distrust, inaccurate perceptions of other cultural groups in the Church, prejudice and hostility.”

Recent Lifeway Research polling bears that out, finding that 71 % of evangelicals say their church is racially diverse enough. Making sense of the data, Ed Stetzer, Executive Director of Lifeway Research, notes that “most churchgoers are content with the ethnic status quo in their churches.” Enslavement to the powers keeps segregated churches silent, maintaining the status quo of racial fragmentation in our society.

Evangelicals must repent of our silence and find our voice. To find our voice, we must be intentional about integrating evangelical churches. Segregated churches witness to division, fear and prejudice; integrated churches witness to the “manifold wisdom of God” which Paul describes in Ephesians. Churches are called by God to display the “multi-colored” wisdom of God to the “authorities” and “powers” (Eph. 3:10). The Greek word typically translated “manifold” could be translated “multicolored” as it was used to describe Joseph’s “coat of many colors” in the Greek Old Testament. The apostle Paul envisions churches as multi-racial communities bearing witness to the power of the Spirit to transcend divisive human patterns of homogeneous grouping.

We must also encourage evangelicals to form diverse friendships. Such friendships can help alter our individualistic understandings and make us more open to structural understandings related to racism. If white evangelicals become less racially isolated, we might look at racism differently and become more amenable to multidimensional solutions.

Ultimately, integrated churches and cross-race friendships help us get our theology right.The true environment for doing theology is not an ivory tower, but concrete relationships with real people who differ from us, whose life experiences differ from ours, who read the Bible through a different set of lenses. Many white evangelicals view racial incidents through the lens of individualism while many black evangelicals view those same incidents through the lens of structuralism. Both rightly claim biblical authority for their perspective. Scripture warrants both individual and structural views of racism and other sins. It is not an either/or but a both/and. Solutions to racism that call only for individual change are as naïve as solutions that call only for structural change. As long as we remain segregated and isolated, our theology will inevitably be one-sided and incomplete.

The issue of racism reminds us that our discipleship must be corporate as well as individual. As part of the eternal plan of God, churches are to be signs and instruments of the Kingdom of God—“counter-communities” holding out and embodying an alternative vision of what it means to live in community. An integrated church in a segregated society can be a powerful witness to the transformative power of the cross, which destroys all “dividing wall[s] of hostility” (Eph. 2:14-16). Together we are the Body of Christ, the one new humanity in which, having been “baptized into Christ” and “clothed” with Christ, there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for [we] are all one in Christ Jesus (Eph. 2:15; Col. 3:27, 28).

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Greg Brooks (@gregkbrooks) has served churches in Florida and Kentucky, most recently as the Executive Pastor at Frist Baptist Church at The Villages. A graduate of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (M.Div., Ph.D), he has also taught various theology and ethics classes as an Adjunct Professor. He and his wife, Fran, live in Florida and are the proud parents of three grown children. 

The Unquenchable Longing for the Infinite God

I was young when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. I loved the image of God that my church instilled in me.  He was my good and loving Heavenly Father who sent his son to die for me.  That was enough for me to trust him for eternity. However, that trust was a commitment far deeper than my younger self could understand. It’s not that my declaration was dishonest; it’s that it was naive. It took me nearly 20 years to realize it, but what I knew of God was not enough. I had to be humbled and broken to realize that I needed more. That realization was the beginning of a search for “more” that I needed that still drives me to this day.

The Reason Behind My Wandering Heart

When I reflect on this period as a young adult, what fascinates me about my story is the vast deficiency in my understanding of God, and yet, the extraordinary longing that existed in my heart to understand. With me exists an unquenchable curiosity that would have me stand, mouth agape under metaphorical waterfalls of knowledge only to step out from under the flow and find myself longing for more.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.”— Ecclesiastes 3:11

I have learned that my unquenchable curiosity is not me being an annoying child asking her father question after question just for attention. Far from it. This unquenchable curiosity is a gift from God calling me into a deeper devotion to him. This eternal well within me that seems to never fill completely is God whispering to me that there is more to be learned, more to be seen, and more to be experienced in him.

I read book after book and listen to preachers from all over the world in pursuit of enough water to fill this well, and while knowledge was gained, it was never enough. These men and women, though intelligent and passionate in their writing and speaking, were all just like me; finite beings looking at and chasing after an infinite God. These realizations lead me to seek satisfaction of my unquenchable curiosity from the only infinite source.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”— Isaiah 55: 8-9

God is above us. His thoughts are above our own. What better source for knowledge than the Creator of knowledge?

Learning How to Humble Ourselves

When the veil was torn and we received communion with God, we also were granted access to God’s throne. This means that we now have the ability to approach God with our request and our inquiries.

We have all asked God “Why me?” But this prayer has always irked me. It’s a way of telling God that we know better than he does. But we don’t. We are not enough to fill our own curiosity. I know myself intimately and I am not enough to quench my thirst. In order to quench that thirst, we must recognize that we are not enough and that we are not the point. We must humble ourselves before the Lord and lift his name high as we confess and proclaim that we are not sufficient.

So my prayers are now like King Solomon’s, who shared my curiosity. I ask for knowledge.

Praying for God’s Wisdom

“Who has directed the Spirit of the LORD, or as His counselor has taught Him? With whom did He take counsel, and who instructed Him, and taught Him in the path of justice? Who taught Him knowledge, and showed Him the way of understanding?”— Isaiah 40:13-14

Prayer is an act of humility, but asking for wisdom even more so. This act acknowledges that I do not have the answers. That I need help. If we are honest, this is difficult for most of us.  We live in a world where you never have to say, “I don’t know.” Most of us carry in our pockets a phone that gives us instant access to more knowledge than some of the greatest minds in recorded history could have imagined. We have been trained to be self-sufficient in our search for wisdom but true wisdom can’t be found on Google. Wisdom is only found when we are willing to bow before God as the ignorant creatures we are and beg him to reveal snapshots of his infiniteness.

Although it takes courage to enter that prayer, it reaps the greatest reward—that is the exchange of our wondering with God’s wisdom. Prayer has the power to fill our minds with instruction, with understanding, and with counsel. He created all things and holds all things together by the power of his word. But just like my young self understood, he is also my good and loving Father and when I ask him for wisdom, he is faithful to give it. When I stand before God’s throne with my unquenchable curiosity, he smiles at me, undaunted by my constant requests.He gives me wisdom and tells me, “There’s plenty more where that came from.” He quenches my thirst every day and in the morning is ready with more.

He never gets tired with us, and as we learn to listen to him and hear what he is speaking to us, our souls could never get tired with him. He welcomes and even encourages our curiosity; it is the longing he placed within us all that draws us into his throne room, into the only true fount of knowledge.

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Chelsea Vaughn (@chelsea725) 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.

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Editor: In our Theology Proper: The Antidote to Insatiable Desire we are seeking to understand how knowing God is indispensable to make, mature, and multiply disciples. We want to explicitly connect the theology of the church to its mission. So far in our series:

• Theology Proper: The Antidote to Insatiable Desire by Whitney Woollard
• The Grace and Mercy of God by Chelsea Vaughn
• The Ever-present God by Jeremy Writebol

3 Lessons on Holiness from John Owen

In the West, we’re increasingly appreciative of authenticity. Being yourself, regardless of your good or bad qualities, is applauded while pretending to be something else or acting disingenuous will invoke public shaming. Advertisers have picked up on this and use it to their advantage. One example is the Domino’s Pizza ads from a few years ago where they used negative reviews to their advantage to launch a massive rebranding campaign. The general public praised their humble acknowledgement of negative feedback. When it comes to the Church, I’m thankful the culture around us continues to challenge our authenticity (here’s to hoping the market for corny “Christian” product lines will dwindle to extinction). We should all be intolerant of insincere expressions of Christianity.I hope this environment, both inside and outside the Church, will contribute to a revival of what John Owen called “gospel holiness.”

1. Gospel Holiness Opposes Legal Holiness

What comes to mind when you hear the word “holiness”? Like most words, it’s picked up baggage: some good and some bad. To differentiate “gospel holiness” from the ordinary use of the word, J.I. Packer tells us:

“‘Gospel holiness’ is no doubt an unfamiliar phrase to some. It was Puritan shorthand for authentic Christian living, springing from love and gratitude to God, in contrast with the spurious ‘legal holiness’ that consisted merely of forms, routines and outward appearances, maintained from self-regarding motives.”[1]

Holiness, according to the Puritans, comes in two forms: “Gospel holiness” which springs from an inward devotion to God and the counterfeit “legal holiness” which is primarily an outward act. But to be sure, the difference is difficult to spot at a glance. Both result in similar actions but stem from entirely different motivations. The legal being attempts to look holy outwardly and the gospel is cultivated as an outward expression of the inward reality of our ever-increasing union with Christ. Or as John Owen puts it, “What, then, is holiness? Holiness is nothing but the implanting, writing and living out the gospel in our souls.”[2]

Jesus himself speaks of the difficulty in discerning the two when he mentions “that day” when many will not enter the kingdom of heaven despite prophesying, casting out demons, and doing many mighty works in his name. The reason they will not enter? Jesus “never knew them” (Matt. 7:21-23). This is sobering and should challenge us to examine our relationship with Jesus (after all, it’s the relationship that distinguishes the two). Are we living a life of “gospel holiness” where holy living is the result of dwelling on the good news we have in Christ? Or are we merely trying to convince others (and maybe even ourselves) of our superior spirituality?

2. Gospel Holiness Is A Result Of The Indwelling Holy Spirit

When Jesus told his disciples that he would give them his peace (Jn. 14:27), it was directly tied to the comforting presence of the Holy Spirit. That same Holy Spirit that dwells inside us and brings us peace is the same Holy Spirit that is working in us to sanctify us and make us more like Christ (Phil. 2:13). This transformation to be more like Christ by the work of the indwelling Holy Spirit is what sanctification is and what the Puritans meant when they spoke of gospel holiness. Oddly enough the same John Owen who famously remarked on Romans 8:13 that we must be killing sin or it will be killing us, knew that the key to unlocking this verse is the place of the Holy Spirit in that battle. The same God that fought for Israel and put the Egyptians to death at the Red Sea (Ex. 14:14) fights for us (and through us) to put to death our crimson sins (again see Rom. 8:13).

The war cry of discipleship is to put to death our god-replacements (i.e., sin) with the true God. Legalistic attempts at holiness conflict with this because they put our effort front and center and leave God on the sidelines like a cosmic cheerleader cheering for our victory. Our flesh tempts us to make ourselves the heroes of the story by achieving holiness on our own accord, but the Holy Spirit inside us prompts us to rest in the victorious defeat of sin at the cross. By focusing on what Christ has done for us in the gospel and his gift of righteousness we are no longer enslaved to our own fickle attempts at holiness. While the gospel frees us from the pressure of having to be our own savior it denies us none of the benefits that rightfully belong to the victor. Christ absorbs all our sin at the cross and transfers all the recompense due for his perfection and glory to his imperfect bride: the Church.

Too often we slide into the error of believing holiness is achieved by aiming at a destination when it was actually achieved for us by a declaration (see 2 Cor. 5:21 for starters). Gospel holiness means resting in the identity Christ has procured for us and clinging to him amidst temptations to do otherwise. The world, the flesh, and the devil oppose gospel holiness, but Jesus (who overcame these three enemies) said: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace (John 16:33)”. Owen sums it up nicely: “Sanctification is a fruit of that peace with God which he has made and prepared for us by Jesus Christ. . . . So God, as the author of our peace, is also the author of our holiness.”

3. Gospel Holiness Is Just One More Expression Of God’s Grace

Ed Marcelle[3] has often stated that if we see how big and ugly our sin is our need for the cross only increases. Put succinctly: only a big cross will pay for our big sins. God’s grace has achieved the payment for our sin in the death of Christ as our substitute. When the old nature creeps up and wants to do war with the new man—the man in Christ—the same grace that bought us at the cross can bring us back to the cross. The same gospel that saves us sanctifies us. Owen states: “The one who sanctifies us is God. As God gave us our beings, so he gives us our holiness. It is not by nature but by grace that we are made holy.”

There is the temptation to view the gospel as the starting point of Christian discipleship and look at sanctification as a process that happens subsequently and independent of it. But Owen’s insights into the Scriptures show us a different sanctifying grace. A gospel holiness which makes no distinction between saving grace and sanctifying grace. It’s all a gift of God, as he states: “Holiness, then, is a glorious work of the Holy Spirit.” Or as Paul put it before Owen:

Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh (Gal. 3:2-2)?

[i] Packer, J.I., Knowing God, p. 249

[ii] This and all following John Owen quotes can be found at this helpful primer on Gospel holiness: http://www.monergism.com/thethreshold/articles/onsite/holyspirit_owen.html

[iii] Ed has also contributed to GCD and pastors Terra Nova Church in Troy, NY.

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Sean Nolan (B.S. and M.A., Summit University) is the Family Life Pastor at Christ Fellowship Church in Fallston, MD. Prior to that he served at a church plant in Troy, NY for seven years and taught Hermeneutics to ninth and tenth graders. He is married to Hannah and is father to Knox and Hazel. He occasionally blogs at Hardcore Grace.

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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
• 3 Lessons from John L. Girardeau for Crossing Divides
• 4 Lessons for Making Disciples from Jan Hus

Four-Dimensional Confessionalism

If you study church history, before long you will find yourself knee-deep in councils, creeds, and confessions of faith. Together, these have safeguarded the church in times of theological weakness and pulled her to biblical safety during times of turmoil. But as we enter into a new era of secularism, mere confessionalism will not be enough. I’m not only talking about historic confessions of faith, which are good and helpful theological tools; I’m talking about any claims we make about God and his grace, how those claims are applied, and how we should live in light of them. No longer will verbalizing our beliefs be enough. We need a confessionalism that the world can touch—one that takes the church’s declaration of the gospel in word and allows it to live in the streets of a longing world in deed.We need a confessionalism that demonstrates the urgency and seriousness of the message we have been given. We need a confessionalism that will not be drowned when the tides begin to turn. What we need is a four-dimensional confessionalism. We pursue these from Hebrews 10:23—“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.” 

1. Confession—“Let us hold fast the confession . . . ”

This might sound obvious. You can’t spell confessionalism without confession. But simply mapping what we believe is not enough. Anybody can be confessional. In fact, everybody is confessional, even if they don’t realize it. Everybody confesses something about God. Romans 1 makes clear that the knowledge of God “is plain to them, because God has shown it to them.” It says, “Although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him.” It tells us, “They exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator.” Everybody is confessional.

Paul’s words are a solemn reminder: confessions don’t require truth. That is, being confessional is not a promise that what we are holding to is the gospel of Jesus Christ. My pastor puts it this way: everybody is a theologian—the question is whether or not you are a good one.

The recent decline in mainline Protestantism reveals where one-dimensional confessionalism keeps us. We long for the meat of Scripture, but are only given the faint taste of milk. Our stomachs growl for something weightier and worthwhile. If we want to recover the riches of the gospel in our confessionalism, our churches must not leave slack in the truth we confess. We must recover the Scriptural foundations of our confessions and force our theology to find its “yes,” in the person of Jesus Christ. He is the treasure of truth. Confessionalism finds its value in the truth it confesses. If our confessions are not accurately declaring the truth of the gospel, our confessions lack authority. Moreover, if our confessions are not accurately declaring the whole truth of the gospel, they are worthless. If the gospel isn’t the end of our confessions, they will burn out in the blink of an eye. 

2. Hope—“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope…”

Somewhere along the way, we decided that confessionalism must be locked up in the classroom and cut off from emotion. May this not be the case! I have nailed down a functioning definition of confessionalism: convictions verbalized. This kind of confessionalism reflects not only our mind’s knowledge, but also our heart’s emotion. In our confessions, we put into words what we feel the deepest. Friends, if our confessions are truly convictions verbalized, they must be wedded to our emotions. The two are inseparable. Together, they ease us down the aisle towards Christ who is the church’s true Husband (Rev. 21:2).

If we only needed to repeat some special mantra to be disciples, we could get away with a hopeless confessionalism. But the gospel requires much more. It must be proclaimed! And our proclamation must be in tune with our attitude. The gospel must be trumpeted from the highest halls and the lowest basements! We must speak as though it is our last breath. The gospel cuts the tops off mountains and raises the lowest valleys! There is no grander proclamation than the good news of Christ.

The gospel requires hope and we rejoice in the hope it brings! We rejoice knowing that redemption was accomplished on the cross. We rejoice knowing that we are united with Christ in his resurrection from the dead. We rejoice knowing that King Jesus is ruling high in the heavens over all things, sustaining them with the word of his unconquerable power. We rejoice knowing that one day we will be adorned as a bride, being brought near not just spiritually, but physically! Oh, the hope that lies at the heart of the gospel! In this life we are faced with suffering, but we do not lose heart! Since we will share in the first resurrection, we will never taste of the second death (Rev. 20:6). We have this hope, both sure and steadfast: our union with Christ. The gospel redirects our hope from the things of this world and shines a light on the One who has gone before us. Do not be steeped in only stiff-collared creed-reciting; instead, join with the thousands of believers who have proclaimed that the gospel does not merely fix us but makes us all-new, all-whole, all-alive. 

3. Unwavering Steadfastness—“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering…”

When we have gospel truth and hope-filled emotion in our holster, we have nothing to lose. We have God on our side. The Sovereign can and will sustain us as we stand on his Word. We must hold the line.

This kind of steadfastness is not something we wait for, looking around open-handed and unsure until the Spirit gives it to us. Steadfastness is more than a spiritual gift and far more than remembering the ways that others have been steadfast. It is a conscious decision, a mindset, a refusal to teeter when it comes to God’s truth and our convictions. In 1 Corinthians 15:58, Paul instructs each of us to be steadfast since our labor for the Lord is not in vain. And while our labors find their center on the glory of God, they work together for our good! James says,

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (1:2–4).

When we are tried, we become steadfast; when we are steadfast, we become “perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” Though the glory of God and the advancement of the gospel are why God preserves us through trials, we can be assured of this truth: both our perfection and completion are being built out of our steadfastness. Our steadfastness is like the mud that makes the bricks of our eternity.

2 Corinthians 4:17–18 echoes this theme:

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

Steadfastness during trials is like refining fire. When we do not waver during what feels like Hell on earth, heavenly glory is being prepared for us in eternity. Press on. Fight the good fight. Do not lose heart. Remain steadfast for this is good and pleasing to the Lord and you have been instructed to do it. And when it feels as if you cannot press on, look to Jesus! Know that you are preserved by his hold on you. You rely not on your steadfastness, but on his faithfulness. As you seek steadfastness, remember: no one can lay a foundation other than the one laid in Christ Jesus. Man’s foundation will someday fall apart, but his foundation is eternal. In the surety of our hope, we resist wavering. 

Restful Submission—“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.”

The other three dimensions hinge on this fourth dimension. If we miss this, we risk missing the boat in its entirety. Let it sink in: the One who promises to remold the world and resurrect our bodies is faithful. He is true to his word. His promises are not empty. Realizing this kind of truth is a paradigm shift; it emboldens us. The blood that trickles down the cross of Christ is evidence of his faithfulness. He is both the Guarantor and the Guarantee. Who could deliver a surer promise than the Promise himself?

Even better: he has, “put his seal on us and given us his Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee” (2 Cor. 1:22). He has made us a people, though we once were not a people. These realities are the seeds of obedience. We can be faithful in obedience because Christ has been faithful in deliverance.

John Flavel, in his wonderful collection of sermons titled The Fountain of Life, preached on the Kingship of Christ in the souls of the redeemed:

Here is much strictness, but no bondage; for the law is not only written in Christ’s statute-book, the Bible, but copied out by his spirit upon the hearts of his subjects, in correspondent principles; which makes obedience a pleasure, and self-denial easy. Christ’s yoke is lined with love, so that it never galls the necks of his people.

Obedience is the pulse of the new man. The law is “copied out by his spirit” upon our hearts. As those born again, we obey as part of our primary nature. If we withhold our obedience while offering up confessionalism, then the words we say don’t matter.

The author of Hebrews gives us a prescription for obedience in verses 24-25: “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” Our obedience begins in and is nurtured by the local church. When we assemble together, we are pushed to godliness and encouraged into holiness. The church gears us up for the day when we will be clothed in glory to dwell with him in eternity. If obedience is our pulse, the local church is our pacemaker, forcing the rhythm to match that of the Spirit.

Confession links to affection. What we confess with our mouths must be believed in our hearts. We cannot serve two masters. Give your affections to Jesus. They were created for him, and he will put them to their best use. Laboring for him will not return void. In the words of C. H. Spurgeon, “True rest to the mind of the child of God is rest on the wing, rest in motion, rest in service, not rest with the yoke off, but with the yoke on.” Come, rest in Christ, as we hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering. Do not settle for one-dimensional confessionalism. Let us love not in word but in deed and in truth, for a faith without works is dead (1 Jn. 3:18; Jas. 2:17). God desires something tangible, a confessionalism that is four-dimensional. Rest not with the yoke off, but with the yoke on. The gospel demands us, for this is our spiritual worship.

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Cody Glen Barnhart (@codygbarnhart) lives in Kansas City, Missouri, and is a student at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. He has written for the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, Canon & Culture, For the Church, and is a contributor at servantsofgrace. You can read his blog at counterculturing.com.

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