3 Ways Sin Attacks

It was hard for me growing up to get at the root of my sin.  Where was it coming from?  It was hard to figure out how to fight sin, and I felt like I was constantly failing.  The tradition I grew up in taught that sin primarily was “in the world.” So if I could keep myself unstained from the world, I would sin less.  I tried to do this, but I didn’t sin any less.  I grew frustrated and tired of trying to live the Christian life.  Part of it had to do with me fighting in my own power, but another part of it had to do with my focus on where sin was attack me.

Depending on what tradition you grew up in, you most likely have a certain view of how sin attacks us. There seems to be three categories of how sin attacks us: Satan, the World, or the Flesh. As I have reflected more on these categories it got my wheels turning with two questions emerged:

• What are the flaws in each category as it relates to how or why we sin?
• Is one of these three categories more helpful than another in fighting sin?

Three Ways Sin Attacks

If you grew up in a more charismatic tradition, it probably was all about Satan and his demons. If your car broke down, it was the car demon. If you sinned, the devil tempted you to do it almost bordering on “the devil made me do it.” Therefore, the focus on fighting sin became to have enough faith and will power to withstand the devil and his attacks.

Maybe you grew up in a more conservative evangelical tradition, it probably was all about “the world.” We had to learn to be in the world, but not of the world. Sounds good, even biblical. But it became about hiding out from the world so we would not be tainted by “the sin out there.” We chucked the idea of being in the world because there was just too much sin out there. Then we huddled up together thinking we would not sin, while not engaging the world at all.

Perhaps you grew up in a more reformed tradition, it probably was all about “the flesh.” In this tradition, sin attacks us from within, while not paying much attention to the enemy or the world. This tradition sees us as totally depraved and corrupted the whole man. It is all about my sinful heart, and how I can’t do the things God is calling me to do.

All three of these are true. Satan schemes against us, the world is broken and filled with sin, and we are broken and corrupted by sin. Can it be dangerous to give one category of how sin attacks us more focus than another?

Flaws in All Three Categories 

First, let’s look at the more charismatic tradition and the over focus on Satan. There is a real enemy seeking to destroy us like a roaring lion seeking to devour us (1 Pt. 5:8). He is a very real enemy who is looking to tempt us and entangle us once again in sin. We need to take our enemy seriously.

But the first part of 1 Peter 5:8, tells us to be sober minded and watchful. The devil can’t make us sin. Our sin isn’t ultimately the enemy’s fault. The Bible says,

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” – 1 Corinthians 10:13.

God will give us a way out, or a way to endure the temptation of the enemy. We don’t need to focus so much on the enemy and who is against us that we forget who is in us and fights for us. We are called to submit ourselves to God so we can resist the devil, and he will flee us (Jas. 4:7). It is not about mustering up enough faith, or conjuring up enough will power to resist the devil. It is about the object of our faith that is Jesus, and the power of the Holy Spirit in us.

Second, from the conservative evangelical focus on the sin “in the world,” we must not be of the world (Rom. 12:1-2, Jas. 4:4). There are things in the world that are not good for us to engage. But when we huddled up, we realize the fact that sin exists in us as well. It was not just about the “sin out there,” but the sin we could not escape.

Not only that, but God has kept us in the world that we might display his love and grace. We can’t do that if we don’t engage the world we are in because we are huddled up waiting for the rapture. God calls us to engage people who will be worldly that we might show them otherworldly love.

Maybe some of the problem is more our reputation, our self-righteousness, and the appearance of good. We abstain from the world because we don’t want to look like we are friends with it.

“For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.” – Matthew 11:18-19

Maybe we should worry less about our reputation, because people are going to say what they want no matter what we do. Being in Christ, frees us from what others think about us (we don’t need others approval). Being in Christ, frees us to not care what others think of us (meaning they don’t define or justify us). If we believed this, maybe it would free us to go places, without being “of those places,” because we are going to reach the people Jesus wants us to reach. Maybe it would free us to have “those kinds” of people over to our home, or go to their party for the purpose of loving them like Jesus.

Third, from the more reformed tradition of the sin of “the flesh, in some views of total depravity, we are “so bad” and “so sinful” why should we even try to fight sin? Then it can swing from “I so bad” to “I am so free” that I can do and indulge in anything. While it is true we are free in Christ, this freedom isn’t a license to sin which Paul warns us against (Gal. 5:13). Paul goes on to tell us that we are freed from sin so we could love our neighbor not ourselves. We have the Holy Spirit in us that gives us new affections and desires that we might not sin.

Is One Category More Helpful Than Another? 

The reformed tradition helps us identify the root of sin better. Sin resides in us.

“But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.” – James 1:14-15

While the world and the lies of the enemy can influence us, entice us, and deceive us, we chose to sin. We sin because we want to sin. We sin because sin is still in us. We can’t escape sin, but we can learn how to identify and fight our sin.

We must identify our sin. We need to see sins effects on those around us as well as ourselves. We need to know how we are being tempted, but when we stare too much at our sin we will find ourselves sinking deeper in it. The only way to find freedom from sin is in Christ Jesus. It is about remembering who it is that saves us, and what he has done for us. The key is to focus less on our sin, and more on our Savior and what he has done to free us from sin. We do this by looking to Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith.

We need to look at Jesus and see it is finished. When we remember our salvation accomplished by Jesus, God looks at us and doesn’t see our sin but Jesus’s righteousness, then we can look at our sin to address it. The way you deal with sin’s attack, whether it is the enemy’s deceitful voice or the influence of the world that lures and entices our desires, is to remember who’s we are, and what he has done to make us his own.

We need to remember who we are in Christ, and what he did to make us his (Eph. 1:3-14, 2:1-10). We need to listen to the Holy Spirit guiding us. The Spirit is applying all Christ has done for us, and testifies to our spirit that we are children of the living God (Rom. 8:15-16, Gal. 4:1-7).

When we see who we are in Christ, remembering what he has done for us by his perfect life, sacrificial atoning death, glorious resurrection, and that he is currently ruling and reigning over the universe, we can say no to sin and yes to his grace. His kindness leads us to repentance (Rom. 2:4). We can turn from our sin, and turn to our Savior. He stands to receive us, give us his grace, and empower us by the Spirit to seek new obedience in light of his gospel.

As pastors or small group leaders, let’s give people the gospel that transforms us from the inside out.  As we point people back to Christ and all he has done, his grace transforms us and enables us to fight sin.  With people being aware of their own sin and the one who has done something about it, our people are better equipped to withstand and fight the attacks of Satan and the attacks of the world.

Now, we can be better equipped to fight sin as it comes at from the other two categories of Satan and the world. We can tell the enemy he is a liar and needs to shut up. We can engage the world with love, grace, and truth without being of it. We can see the sin that remains in us, but not be lured and enticed by it because it doesn’t define us or have a hold on us any longer. We are God’s and he is ours. As the old hymn says,

Turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look full in his wonderful face, And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, In the light of his glory and grace.

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Clay Adkisson is the Pastor of Discipleship at Double Oak Community Church in Birmingham, AL. He has a B.B.S. in Speech Communication from Hardin Simmons University, and a M.A. in Religion from Redeemer Seminary in Dallas, TX. He has worked in ministry for 13 years with youth, college, young adults, men’s ministry, small groups, as well as being on preaching and teaching teams. He has had the privilege of working in many different kinds of churches from church plants to mega churches. Clay’s passion is to see people find freedom in the gospel by seeing it transform their everyday lives.

An Invitation to Swim in a Different Current

Caught in a current. It happens so suddenly. You are swimming along just fine. Body wrapped in the coolness of the sea. Rolling with some waves and diving under others.

Floating, swimming, surfing. Enjoying the light flavor of saltwater on the lips. Just you and the vast ocean. Adventure. Peace. Place. It hits you.

The towels, umbrellas, kids running around on the shore all look small, too small. The shore is a ways off. Much further than what you feel comfortable with.

Your eyes scan the shore to find your lifeguard tower, chair or something familiar and realize you have not just drifted far out but far away from where you started.

You drop under the water to touch your toes to the ground and gauge the depth.

Your feet reach and flail desperately as you sink but they are nowhere near touching the ground.

It’s deep.

Too deep.

You start to swim in.

Try to ride the next wave and get some momentum towards the shore.

In the back of your mind you know it is too late.

All the warning signs start flashing through your mind.

The flags on shore cautioning of a strong current that you brushed off.

The way the waves were crashing against each other at angles instead of rolling in on smooth lines.

You feel stupid for ignoring all the warnings but hold on to denial for a bit longer as you dive under and swim a bit harder and faster to shore.

The waves are rougher now.

Your body senses your weakness; you feel your fatigue. How long have I been out here?

The salt on the lips reminds you of your thirst. When did I last drink fresh water?

The harder you swim to shore the more violently the current sucks you out to sea.

Rip tide. You are caught in a current.

You feel helpless, scared, small and can’t help but fear the worst.

Why did I go out this far? Why didn’t I pay more attention to the warnings?

I was just going for a short swim. I was having so much fun.

What was I thinking? What am I going to do now?

Caught in the Current

American Christianity is caught in a current. And pastors are leading the charge. This current seems harmless and the drift happens in small doses, but it is deadly nonetheless.

It is a current that commodifies Christianity. A current that packages, markets, and sells discipleship. A current that finds its way through the lure of performance, approval and comparison. A rip tide of celebrity pastors, conferences, twitter, blogs, promotion, numbers, always numbers.

It starts with a warped view of success. A plundering of other whys. Why do we do what we do? This view of success gets hijacked to be the same why of Hollywood, Silicon Valley, and Wall Street. The same strategies used to make it in a dog-eat-dog world are the same strategies used to make it in the church world.

Performance. Approval. Comparison. Numbers.

Churches don’t have meaningful partnerships or friendships and certainly would never sacrifice for the other church in their neighborhood. It is never stated, but we are both swimming along in the same current and looking out for number one. Striving for the same view of success to be bigger, better, and more known and the truth is there isn’t room for both of us.

Western Christianity is caught in the current. We are drowning. Some are swimming to shore, some are loving it, but more should cry out for help.

Help us God. We are drowning!

Pastor, are you caught in the current? Is your church?

We didn’t start out this way. We fell in love with Jesus. We fell in love with his Word. We felt his presence. We hungered for others to taste and see the goodness of this true, life-giving, world shattering reality of the gospel. We wanted more time with Jesus and for others to meet and know and follow Jesus!

We never thought it would go this far. We just wanted to dip a toe in the water. We saw the warnings, but thought it couldn’t happen to us. We couldn’t get caught in this current. We saw the danger from afar but up close it didn’t look so dangerous.

Surely, this small compromise is worth the growth. Certainly, the lead pastor needs to be shielded a bit from the people to focus on “vision.” It’s ok to build my platform, it’s for Jesus, right?

I need to be known, so I can make him known. If we got bigger, we could have more influence. If we could just get to that church size, or get that band, or that building then we could really do God’s work.

You’re swimming along and everything seems fine until you realize how far you are from shore. Your relationship with Jesus is strained. Your prayer life is dry. You are only available to your celebrity Christian posse on social media. You feel lonely in the church, lonely in your home. Old addictions that you thought were long gone are starting to creep back in. You try to swim to shore, you try to manage it for awhile, hide it, change it. But it is too late.

Rip tide.

Heed the Warning Signs

This pull away from shore in churches happens all around us and inside of us all of the time. Pastors, the warning signs are everywhere. Pastor wakes up and can’t get out of bed. Pastor has moral failure. Pastor can’t sleep with or without sleeping pills. Pastor blows up on his staff. Performance. Approval. Comparison. Numbers, always numbers. Burnout, moral failure, blow up. Rinse and repeat.

And it is not just pastors. Church members, deacons, volunteers, leaders. All following us pastors onto the same treadmill of performance until we have to get off and the only way it seems to get off is to leave the church, the ministry, and often the faith all together.

Pastors, what should we do?

An emergency sabbatical. Pay a bunch of money to celebrity Christian counselors. Schedule in some hobbies, change our diets, get better work rhythms, get a masseuse, hire an extra assistant, etc. We figure out how to solve it, manage it, and get back to it so our performance, approval, comparison, and numbers are not too damaged. Hobbies, vacations, sabbaticals, counselors are all great ideas and helpful. I am not hating on any of those things. My problem is what we do next!

We get right back in the exact same current.

Maybe this time we have a nice boogie board or a quality wetsuit to help us float a little longer, but it is the same current. Pastors, church, Christians, have we ever thought that maybe, just maybe we should avoid this current and swim somewhere else?

An Invitation to Swim in Another Current

That is why I am writing. I have been caught in the current and seen other pastors, Christians, and churches caught in the same current and I want to invite us all to swim somewhere else.

To recognize and heed the warning signs and choppy waters that are all around us proclaiming the danger of performance, approval, comparison, and numbers.

• What if ministry is not about us?
• What if we have everything backwards?
• What if the least are the greatest in his Kingdom?
• What if the greatest commandment was to love God and love others more than our platforms?
• What if NO one could come after Jesus without denying himself?
• What if we had to become a no name unrecognized servant to become great in his Kingdom?
• What if we are supposed to avoid the crowds and seek his presence?
• What if we are swimming in the wrong current all together?

I know that after calling out to God for help he is rescuing me and showing me a new path. It is a narrower path and it doesn’t make much of me, yet each step is so life-giving even if it often feels like I am learning the same step over and over.

It is not about me.

Step.

Nearly everything I do naturally is the opposite of what Jesus proposes and models in his Kingdom.

Step.

I can do things with Jesus and for Jesus in secret and with no need to broadcast it.

Step.

His ways are often secret, hidden, and small (Matthew 13).

Step.

If I am going to swim in this current it is going to have to be prayerfully and patiently.

Step.

There is no room for ego here.

Step.

He must increase, I must decrease.

Step.

Follow me. Follow me. Follow me.

Step.

He cares more about me being a follower who makes followers than being a leader who makes leaders.

Step. 

Pray. No really, pray.

Step.

He has me right where he wants me.

Step.

The time, place, and size of my ministry is beautiful.

Step.

Contentment. Formation. Presence.

Step.

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Jake Chambers is the husband to his beautiful bride Lindsey, and a daddy to Ezra, Roseanna, and Jaya. Jake is passionate about seeing the gospel both transform lives and create communities that love Jesus, the city, and the lost. He currently serves Red Door Church in San Diego through leading, preaching, equipping, and pastoring.

Curing the Taste for a Shiny Death

I remember walking into an adult bookstore for the first time. (This was before high speed-internet connections were common and you could get the crack delivered to your home in five seconds or less.) I wanted to be there; and yet I didn’t. I was trembling inside and a little bit outside. When you walk into one of those places, you are clearly crossing a line, and it’s as if that line demarcates a wall of glass. The porn shop is under a dome, keeping all the germs inside, and when you cross that boundary, it slices you in half. If you’re someone who claims to follow Jesus, you walk into a porn shop a totally bifurcated person—discombobulated, deluded, divided. I was driven there by a compulsion—to see, to get things I shouldn’t have, to know things I shouldn’t know. There are sections inside an adult video store, organized according to category; I hope you didn’t know that. Some of these categories repulsed me. Can you imagine that? Walking around a porno store and avoiding the “gross” stuff? As if it wasn’t all disgusting?

I knew I should not have been there but I wanted to be. Everything inside of me said it was wrong, and everything inside of me said it would be okay. Just push through, get what you want, and get out. Before you become numb to this battle and stop fighting it you must ignore the clapper of conscience clanging against the walls of your soul and push through it.

Was I in that store by my orientation? Absolutely. Was I in that store by my choice? Yes. The answer to this multiple choice question is yes.

And when I put Genesis 3:1 (“Did God actually say . . . ?”) together with Romans 7, I see why I believed it was ultimately better at the time to feel good doing what I wanted instead of suffering the internal agony of not being who I was. It felt so much better to give in than to fight. Which is why so many porn users don’t fight it at all. The porn promises release. The abstinence promises pain. And then there’s this voice saying, The pain means you shouldn’t be trying to change who you are.

But there’s nothing else in me God wants to change except who I am.

This change comes through the cross—Christ’s cross becoming my cross. What is better? To be warring all the life in Romans 7, denying urges and not feeling good inside, or doing what we feel is right simply because it feels good, better? One voice answers the latter, and it strokes the ear. The other strikes terror sometimes—okay, many times—but it takes us from Romans 7 to Romans 8.

Don’t believe the lie that struggling always to obey God is a worse lot in life than disobeying him with peace. God did not make us to “feel good inside” (or outside) all the time this side of heaven; he made us to share in the sufferings of Christ, that we might share in his resurrection. And the reality is, for many, the resurrection kind of life in these areas of death isn’t always postponed to the life to come. But you won’t know that until you’re willing to go to the cross for as long as it takes to die.

I was preoccupied with and perversely interested in pale imitations of glory. I was committing clear sins in engaging in this behavior. And staying away from the porno shop would be a good decision to make. But it was the allure inside of me—the desire for the glory that was being falsely promised—that just avoiding pornography wouldn’t kill. I didn’t simply have a behavior problem but a belief problem, a worship problem. And what eventually served to cure my taste for this shiny death was not “getting my act together,” but finally, truly seeing the glory of my crucified Savior.

In the warp and woof of this struggle every day, we cannot rely on the law to empower its own implications. We need the more glorious vision.

So long as we are living in the bittersweet limbo of Romans 7 through 8—simul justus et peccator, as the Reformers so nerdily put it in the Latin (righteous and at the same time a sinner)—we will be struggling to see the glory. We will always be fighting this battle. When I say it is better to behold than to behave, I do not mean that we are to be lazy Christians, ambivalent about personal holiness or actively following Jesus. I just mean that our ability to actively and persistently follow Jesus will be centrally driven by our comprehension of his glory.

Beholding Christ’s glory is the number one directive for following Jesus. And in fact, it’s sometimes the only effort us lousy disciples can muster up.

I think of that fateful Sunday a young Charles Spurgeon got waylaid by a snowstorm into a little Methodist chapel where a guest preacher filling in at the last minute was making a plainspoken appeal from Isaiah 45:22—”Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth!” He was not a great preacher; Spurgeon presumes him to be “a shoemaker, or tailor, or something of that sort” and actually refers to him as “feeble” and “stupid,”6 but he recalled the man’s invitation thusly:

Now lookin’ don’t take a deal of pains. It ain’t liftin’ your foot or your finger; it is just, “Look.” Well, a man needn’t go to College to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool, and yet you can look. A man needn’t be worth a thousand a year to be able to look. Anyone can look; even a child can look.¹

That Sunday morning, with snow clouding the view outside, this simple message captivated the young Charles Spurgeon who for the first time looked at the glory of Christ and saw it.

Sometimes people are so busy trying to do great things for God they forget to look at his glory and therefore they never quite behold it. And sometimes looking is all the rest of us have the energy for. We are, whether spiritually or physically, out of “get up and go.” But as this stupid preacher reminds us, any ol’ fool can pick his head up and look.

[1] The Autobiography of Charles H. Spurgeon, Vol. 1, 1834–1854 (Cincinnati, OH: Curts and Jennings, 1898), 106.

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Jared C. Wilson is the Director of Content Strategy for Midwestern Seminary, managing editor of For The Church, and author of more than ten books, including Gospel Wakefulness, The Pastor’s Justification, and The Prodigal Church. You can follow him on Twitter at @jaredcwilson

Content taken from The Imperfect Disciple by Jared C. Wilson, ©2017. Used by permission of Baker Books, bakerpublishinggroup.com/bakerbooks

Four Anchors in the Crucible of Pain

Last August I resigned my post as pastor for discipleship at a church I deeply loved. Uncertain if I would again land in a fulltime vocational expression of ministry, I accepted a job in the marketplace in an unfamiliar city with very unfamiliar people. A day before the orientation process began at my new job, I answered an emergency phone call that my 66-year-old father had fainted and was in need of an emergency quadruple bypass. Due to the severity of the situation, he was bumped up in the surgery queue and underwent the procedure on a Wednesday.

While in surgery, he suffered a septal-wall heart attack that caused his heart to endure ventricular fibrillations three times. His liver went into shock, his kidneys went into failure, his heart scarcely worked, and the doctors inserted a mechanical heart pump to sustain his life.

Now on full life support—with a ventilator to support his breathing, 24-hour dialysis to remove the waste from his body that was accumulating due to his failed kidneys, and the pump that was running his heart—the doctors induced medical paralysis and downgraded his condition from critical to grave.

I felt lost.

Prayer to Plea

What began for me as a simple prayer for Jesus to sustain my father on a Wednesday became, by Sunday, an all-out plea for the sovereign power of Christ over life and death.

Dad remained in a medically induced coma for 21 days. It was no small thing to see the strongest man I have ever known rendered utterly incapacitated by the failure of his own body. And in that hospital room, I hardly had time to process the disappointment and disillusionment of leaving ministry as a vocation.

My life was in need of an anchor, and like never before I felt as though all the anchors of familiarity I had held on to were now wrenched from their footings. Life for me felt very adrift.

In that place, my often repeated plea—“Come, Lord, Jesus!”—became my tutor, bringing me back to Romans 5:1–5, and tightening my grip on four anchors holding me in place in the crucible of pain.

Anchor #1 – Peace in the Person and Finished Work of Jesus

“Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 5:1). We all suffer this side of heaven, but in these moments we see that our pain does not shape the finished work of Jesus; rather, the finished work of Jesus shapes our suffering.

The death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, who was faithful to finish the work his Father set before him, is the plan of restoration for God’s elect. This reconciling work transfers us from condemned enemies deserving of the full weight of God’s wrath to adopted sons and daughters who are inheriting an unblemished kingdom.

For the Christian, it is of utmost importance that we grasp this understanding of faith and how it not only secures our past, present, and future peace; it is our peace. The second coming of Christ will consummate a glorious new beginning in which evil, suffering, and death will be eradicated as far as the curse of sin is found. Our hope in that glorious day is intimately linked to the belief that Jesus has fully and perfectly justified us in his finished work in the here, in the now.

Anchor #2 – Peace in the Accessibility of God

“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. 5:2). Not only do we stand in all of the benefits that justification brings; we stand in Christ. We were justified in our embrace, by faith, of the justifier himself. This is unmerited, unwarranted, and unadulterated grace. This is what it means to be united with Christ.

Not only does our union with Christ affirm future promises of the restoration of all things, it also enables us to firmly stand in deep grace despite a world currently subjected to the curse of the fall, and in all of the daily insecurities and questions we will face along the way.

Anchor #3 – Peace Leading to Unfailing Hope

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Rom. 5:3–4). There is a peculiar way in which suffering shapes us. As we are united with Christ in his life, we are united with him in his sufferings as well, and as Hebrews 2:10 tells us, Christ was perfected through such hardships.

Suffering is a worker: it works for the good of God’s children (Rom. 8:28). We should expect no less; rather, we should pursue joy in the midst of pain, for God is using it to shape us into the image of Jesus.

Glorification awaits for when Christ returns to consummate all things under his rule and reign. And we long for this day! But we also take great hope in the present that he is transforming us from one degree of glory to another in the here-and-now (2 Cor. 3:18). Once again, as we are united with Christ even in our sufferings, it is Christ who is transforming us. And if it is Christ who is transforming us, then we have all we need, for we have all of Jesus.

Anchor #4 – Peace in the Presence of God Himself

“Hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom. 5:5). Of all the anchors that held my soul in place in those critical moments of life, perhaps the strongest one was God’s commitment to give me all of himself.

God is the gospel—even in the pain. He is the one we get. He is the prize. He is the treasure. He is the everlasting anchor.

The Father sent his beloved Son to reconcile us to himself. Because of the Son’s work, we now have the Father. And because of the Father we have all of the Son. As if this was not enough, then the person of the Holy Spirit joins in to make the love and security of the triune godhead a reality inside of our hearts.

God gives all of himself to us so that, when it feels like all of life gives way and everything is desperate and unfamiliar, he is then my hope and stay.

As the old hymn says, “His oath, his covenant, his blood support me in the whelming flood; when all around my soul gives way”—when everything in life seems desperate and unfamiliar—“he then is all my hope and stay.”

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Scott Fitzgerald is the Executive Pastor of Metro Church of Northwest Arkansas. He is currently pursuing his MDiv at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and blogs at thethrillofhope.com.

A Better Way to Find Leaders in the Church

With the fall of celebrity pastors becoming a normal part of life, many of us are wondering what's happening. Why is it that these men can build something so significant for the kingdom of God, yet fall into adultery, alcoholism, or narcissism? Their falls come at no small cost. As Jamin Goggin and Kyle Strobel have written,

"We live in the era of celebrity pastors whose platforms of influence stretch far beyond the walls of their local congregation, and who shake the earth when they fall off their pedestals."

In the wake of these collapses, we sound the alarm for more accountability and stronger community, and rightly so. None of these efforts appear to be working, though, as we see pastors and church leaders making the same mistakes time and time again. These events should drive us to reflect deeply on what is happening, and about how we find leaders in the church.

What if we're missing what's really going on? What if we're asking the wrong questions? And what if the fall of our pastors has at least as much to do with us as it does with them? 

Goggin and Strobel suggest that's exactly what's happening. They go further to say that we as the Church need to take the log out of our own eye and start to see what's really going on. So what is going on?

AN INVERTED POWER STRUCTURE

Here again, Goggin and Strobel are provocative and insightful when they suggest,

"[T]he church has embraced a form of power that is antithetical to the way of Jesus, and her pastors stand on the front line of this destructive reality."

They go on to explain that the Church and her people have believed the same lie as Adam and Eve in the garden, that "dependence upon God is a place of scarcity and hindrance, while autonomy is a place of flourishing and fulfillment." Our culture and our church-culture in America lift up self-reliance and autonomy as cardinal virtues. These are prime examples of what it means to be successful, driven, and American.

Therefore, when pastors and leaders display these characteristics their vision and mission go forward unquestioned. The bolder, more powerful they seem, the more impervious to spiritual failure they seem, and the more they're praised. When their leadership results in “success,” they’re exalted for these character traits. But when they fall we scorn them for those very same traits.

As Goggin and Strobel write, it's time for the Church to see that,

“[T]he very narcissism, lust, and greed that has caused church leaders to fall is the same narcissism, lust, and greed that drove their ministries to 'succeed.”

They're talking about the fruit of the flesh here (Gal. 5:19-21). What they don't say is that these pastors simultaneously display many of the gifts of the Spirit. How can they display the gifts of the Spirit and the fruit of the flesh at the same time?

CONFUSING SPIRITUAL GIFTS WITH SPIRITUAL FRUIT

I took a seminary class with Nik and Ruth Ripken where we talked mostly about the persecuted church, and their research findings (read this if you're unfamiliar with their story). As Nik started unpacking their findings related to leader selection in the church, he noted that some of those being persecuted experience the same problems with pastors that fall, either away from the faith or into moral failure.

But not all those in persecution experience this, and those that don't select their leaders much differently than we do in America. In the United States, we appoint leaders based on giftedness—speaking ability, charisma, knowledge, etc. But those believers thriving in persecution appoint leaders based on godliness. These believers choose leaders based on the fruit of the Spirit, not the gifts of the Spirit.

The problem with selecting leaders based on giftedness is that the presence and power of gifts don't guarantee godliness—but we assume they do. The danger in apparent giftedness is that it can fool us as to what's really going on in someone's heart.

Of course, if we were paying attention to the fruit of the Spirit in our leaders lives then we wouldn't be fooled. If we were looking closely, we would see that while some of our small group leaders or pastors appear to have the gift of leadership or teaching, they're also marked by lust, greed, narcissism, or arrogance. But in many cases we just don't see it. Why?

We confuse the gifts of the Spirit with the fruit of the Spirit. We assume that giftedness follows godliness. We assume their eloquence is preceded by gentleness, so we miss that they're abrasive in meetings. We assume their passion is preceded by joy, so we miss their inability to care what others have to say.

This blindness is misguided, though. Spiritual gifts don't qualify you for ministry, they simply tell you what to do. Spiritual fruit qualifies you for ministry. And the lack of that fruit disqualifies you.

A BETTER WAY TO FIND LEADERS IN THE CHURCH

There is a better, more biblical way to find leaders. A way that doesn't leave us stunned when our pastors fall because we were unable or unwilling to see what was really going on. Leaders found this way won't be without sin, and surely some of them will fall (even Jesus had Judas), but there will be less of them that pull the rug out from under the church and damage her witness. So how do we do it?

When looking for leaders, we must realize that it is a person's relationship with God that determines their Kingdom-effectiveness. We must prioritize the fruit of the Spirit over the gifts of the Spirit. We should look for those who are marked by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. And if we don't see real evidence of the Spirit in their lives, we shouldn't let them near a leadership role—particularly a pastoral one.

Jesus kept his twelve disciples close for three years as he observed the fruit of their lives and ministry. Only at the end did he finally cut them loose, saying, “No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you” (Jn. 15:15). Paul did the same with Timothy. Barnabas did the same with Paul.

Leaders in the Bible were commissioned after they had been tested and proven to display the fruit of the Spirit as they applied the gifts of the Spirit. They were surely gifted, but those gifts were preceded by their fruit. Once their lives gave sufficient evidence of the work of the Spirit, then they were ready to enter into leadership.

This is why 1 Timothy and Titus list qualities like being "sober-minded" and "self-controlled." The only thing listed in 1 Timothy 3:2-7 considered a gift or skill is being "able to teach." The rest are character traits that flow out of a life marked by the fruit of the Spirit.

A better way to find leaders in the Church is to look for leaders whose gifts are nested in their fruit. Leaders who display the fruit of the Spirit as they exercise the gifts of the Spirit. But to do it, we'll have to crucify our desire to build our kingdom, and instead focus on building his.

Grayson Pope is a husband and father of three, as well the Managing Web Editor at GCD. He serves as a writer and editor with Prison Fellowship and has earned a MACS at The Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. For more of his writing check out his website, or follow him on Twitter.

Point, Shoot, Forget

The high-resolution cameras built into our phones are simply one of the most incredible blessings of the digital age—convenient, portable, and potent. But they also raise three questions. First, we need to think about the social capacity of our phones and how that capacity shapes our impulses. What is true of our cameras is true of every smartphone behavior—the power to immediately share anything we see or do conditions what we capture in the first place. In Donna Freitas’s extensive study of the social-media habits of college students, one sharp female student told her: “People used to do things and then post them, and the approval you gained from whatever you were putting out there was a byproduct of the actual activity. Now the anticipated approval is what’s driving the behavior or the activity, so there’s just sort of been this reversal.”¹ Phones with social connections transform us—and our friends and children—into actors. That’s huge.

Second, we need to rethink our memories. What if the point-and-shoot cameras in our phones make us less capable of retaining discrete memories? One psychologist calls this camera-induced amnesia the “photo-taking impairment effect,”² and it works like this: by outsourcing the memory of a moment to our camera, we flatten out the event into a 2-D snapshot and proceed to ignore its many other contours—such as context, meaning, smells, touch, and taste.

If the cameras in our pockets mute our moments into 2-D memories, perhaps the richest memories in life are better “captured” by our full sensory awareness in the moment—then later written down in a journal. This simple practice has proven to be a rich means of preserving memories for people throughout the centuries. Photography is a blessing, but if we impulsively turn to our camera apps too quickly, our minds can fail to capture the true moments and the rich details of an experience in exchange for visually flattened memories. Point-and-shoot cameras may in fact be costing us our most vivid recollections. But until we are convinced of this, we will continue to impulsively reach for our phones in the event of the extraordinary (or less).

Third, and most insidious of all, I wonder if this unchecked impulse exposes something deeper and darker in us, a certain unbelief that drives us, something more similar to the lie that maybe a given moment is our last opportunity to get close to greatness. In essence, this was the scam that targeted Adam and Eve, and it has been the heart of every human dupe ever since.³

Sin lies about the future. If I don’t grab this chance at glory now, sin tells me, it will be lost forever. So we point our phones at celebrities, which only points out our forgetfulness. We forget eternity. We so easily lose the faith to imagine that one day we will inherit the world and be more renowned and wealthier than Johnny Depp could ever imagine in this life.⁴ We want our share of glory now, instead of waiting for our “glory that is to be revealed.”⁵ What if our rhythms of Snapchat selfies and our star-studded Instagram feeds are exposing the dimness of our future hope?⁶

Breaking Free 

How, then, can we walk (and click and share) with wisdom? First, we must humbly admit that we are targets of digital mega-corporations that can make us into restless consumers with strategic intermediated content. We cannot be naive here. Our attention spans have been monetized, and getting us hooked on our phones is a commercial commodity measured in billions of dollars, not in kiosk change. The hook often comes in visual allurements. Again, this medium is not inherently wrong. Digital art and messaging can be done for God’s glory, and done well. But we must see that we are being conditioned to turn to our phones when we want to be amazed and wowed, and in turn, we are being milked for corporate profit. Likewise, social-media platforms are huge businesses with public stock prices, and they can grow in value only if they condition us to become actors in front of our phones.⁷

Second, we must learn to enjoy our present lives in faith—that is, to enjoy each moment of life without feeling compelled to “capture” it. A growing trend among touring musicians is to ask fans not to record concerts on their phones. Keep the phone in your pocket and enjoy the moment, they say. This direction parallels something of the Christian enjoyment of God’s good gifts. Get off your phone, go camping, gaze at the stars, hike in nature—whatever brings creation closer and richer than pixels.

Third, we must celebrate. We cannot suppress our souls’ appetite for what is awe-inspiring. The goal is not to mute all smartphone media but to feed ourselves on the right media. We were created to behold, see, taste, and delight in the richness of God’s glory—and that glory often comes refracted to us through skilled artists. Our insatiable appetite for viral videos, memes, and tweets is the product of an appetite for glory that God gave us. And he created a delicious world of media marvels so that we may delight in, embrace, and cherish anything that is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, or worthy of praise.⁸ This will keep us very busy marveling at Scripture, at nature, and at God’s grace in the people he created.

Feeding Authenticity

Filled with mediated reality from God, we become eager in our celebration and shrewd in our discernment of intermediated art. For our online networks, we become filters—salt and light—as an act of love in what we publish, share, and like. We refuse to be brainless carriers of the most recent viral meme. Instead, we live as Christians offering “dialogical resistance”—which means that we filter the messages of the world through our individual discernment and then share online through a robust theology of reality, possibility, and meaning in God.⁹

To do this, we must escape the trap of the intermediated world of the produced and step away to live our own lives. On the nine-month anniversary of her social-media sobriety—completely off Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook, and Twitter—my wife turned to me and said, “Compulsive social-media habits are a bad trade: your present moment in exchange for an endless series of someone else’s past moments.” She’s right about the cost. Our social-media lives can stop our own living.

Or, as Andy Crouch says, our smartphone addiction leads to creational blindness. It is only in the absence of constant digital flattery that we can feel small and less significant, more human, liberated to encounter the world we are called to love.¹⁰ We inevitably grow blind to creation’s wonders when our attention is fixed on our attempt to craft the next scene in our “incessant autobiography.”¹¹ Instead, says Crouch, “All true, lasting creativity comes from deep, risky engagement with the fullness of creation.” So “get out in the glorious, terrifying creation and let it move you and break your heart. Then you’ll have something to offer in the dim mirror that is ‘social media’—and in the full, real world that demands the engagement of all of our heart, mind, soul and strength.”¹² Yes, step away from screens, and let the glories of creation break your heart and let the handiwork of God’s creative genius wash you as you ski mountains, hike trails, and scuba dive into oceans. But don’t stop there. Climb the summits of Scripture, too. Let God’s Word pierce your intentions and cut down into your truest motives, and let yourself be convicted, broken, and remade—which is the feeling of standing in the breathtaking presence of God.¹³

Then take all of God’s created and revealed gifts to you and make all of them into a life that shows the world how glorious and satisfying God really is. This is the secret to “creating” great digital art of all forms and types.

[1] Donna Freitas, The Happiness Effect: How Social Media Is Driving a Generation to Appear Perfect at Any Cost (New York: Oxford University Press, 2017), 4.

[2] Je Jacoby, “Free Your Eyes from the Shackles of the Shutter,” The Boston Globe (Oct.4,2015).

[3] Gen. 3:4-5

[4] Ps. 37:11; Matt. 5:5; 25:21; 1 Cor. 3:21–23; 2 Tim. 2:12; James 2:5; Rev. 2:26; 5:10.

[5] Rom. 8:18; 1 Pet. 5:1.

[6] Phil. 3:19.

[7] Tim Ferriss, The Tim Ferriss Show podcast, “How Seth Godin Manages His Life—Rules, Principles, and Obsessions,” The 4-Hour Workweek, fourhour- workweek.com (Feb. 10, 2016).

[8] Phil. 4:8.

[9] Oliver O’Donovan, Ethics as Theology, vol. 2, Finding and Seeking (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2014), 83, 87.

[10] Andy Crouch, “Small Screens, Big World,” Andy Crouch, andy-crouch.com (April 8, 2015).

[11] C. S. Lewis, A Preface to Paradise Lost (London: Oxford University Press, 1961), 101–3.

[12] Joshua Rogers, “Five Questions with Author Andy Crouch,” Boundless, boundless.org (June 15, 2015).

[13] Heb. 4:12–13.

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Tony Reinke is a journalist and desiringGod.org staff writer who hosts the popular Ask Pastor John podcast. He is the author of Lit! A Christian Guide to Reading Books and Newton on the Christian Life.

Content taken from 12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You by Tony Reinke, ©2017. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

The Problem of Unity in the Church

It was time to eat, or so I thought. I came home at 5:30pm, ready for dinner with my new bride. She had agreed to make dinner, yet when I came home she was not scurrying around the kitchen putting together a meal that would impress Paula Dean. Instead, she was sitting on the couch, watching a show, and recovering after a long day of work. “When’s dinner?” I asked with obvious frustration that the meal was not ready.

“Dinner?” she replied, “It’s only 5:30. No one eats dinner at 5:30.”

Oh, I beg to differ, I thought, but thankfully I did not say it. In my home growing up, dinner was always ready at 5:30. It did not matter who was preparing the meal, unless something unexpected happened, the meal would always be ready like clockwork at 5:30.

Not only did I assume this was when dinner should take place, but I also preferred it that way. I enjoyed skipping breakfast, eating an early lunch, having dinner at 5:30, and grabbing a snack before bed. Surely, I thought, others had figured out the clear benefits of structuring their eating habits in this way. I mean, who wouldn’t?

My new wife—that’s who wouldn’t. Growing up, her family ate dinner at 6:30. Her dad’s work schedule hindered him from getting home earlier so they ate later. I came home that day ready for dinner, and she was just beginning to think about what to cook.

Marriage exposes these types of preferences. Some prefer a live Christmas tree, and some a fake one. Some prefer the sound of a TV or music playing all the time, while others love silence. Some want their toilet paper to greet them over the top of the roll and others from the bottom. Some want the house to remain in pristine condition throughout the day, and others could not care less. Some want a big family, and some only want one little princess. The list could go on and on.

Certainly, we are all united with God through the glorious gospel. Yet, preferences are inescapable—a God-given facet of what makes you, you and me, me. In most cases preferences are not right or wrong either. It is not “right” to eat dinner at 5:30 and “wrong” to eat at 6:30 (as I quickly learned). These preferences are based on our life history, our experiences, our gifts, and the uniqueness of our personality and they drive hundreds of decisions we make each day.

No two people’s preferences are exactly alike. Marriage provides a unique case study for the way two people with preferences are forced to work together to achieve unity. Either you find a style of life that will work for you both, or you are in for a miserable marriage. It doesn’t much matter if you eat at 5:30, 6:30, or somewhere in between, but you’d better pick one and make it work.

Christians are no different. We are all different—shaped by a vast array of circumstances that God has used to draw us to himself. We come to our roles with different sin propensities, influences, backgrounds, training, senses of calling, and experiences in the church.

These preferences make it challenging for diverse people to unite in the church. At times these preferences may move along stereotypical lines, with certain generations preferring a defined form, structure, or ethos within the church. But this is not always the case.

Certainly, not all seasoned pastors prefer a liturgical worship style and not all younger pastors preach in jeans. All people do, however, prefer certain things, and the intersection of these preferences is a potential battlefield for unity.

A Divided Church

Paul’s letter to the church at Corinth was written to such a church. Paul responds to the issues that he has heard that are hindering the mission of the church. The first, and perhaps the most important, was that the church was deeply divided.

To this church, Paul writes, “I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment” (1 Cor. 1:10).

Paul warned that preferential matters can undermine and hinder the work of the church. The unity that should be seen by virtue of Christ’s work can be veiled through needless divineness, likely the result of the following four factors.

#1 – The Voices that Influence Us

The preferences of Christians are often shaped by the voices that speak into their lives.

We are all prone to parrot voices of those around us. At first, this can be a good thing. When we begin our discipleship journey, few of us have any clue what we are doing, so we find other Christians we admire and mimic them. Over time, however, we can become a rote, thoughtless, caricature of someone else.

This reality is not as dangerous if you are modeling the preferences of a personal mentor or trusted friend with whom you have spent countless hours. But, in our day, this is often not the case. Rather than modeling the voices of mentors, we often imitate famous leaders that we only know via their podcasts, blogs, books, or sound bytes on Twitter. We respect them, so we try to become like them.

I’ve noticed this tendency in my own preaching. If I’ve spent too many hours listening to Matt Chandler preach, then I often find the tone of my preaching changes. If I listen to David Platt, I begin my sermons with “If you have a Bible and I hope you do. . . ” If I read Piper, then the frequency of the words “supremacy,” “exaltation,” and “glory” goes through the roof.

We admire certain people, pattern ourselves after them, and judge others who don’t fit this style as well. The fact that you respect these leaders is not wrong, but when you expect others to be like them to win your approval, then you needlessly isolate yourself from others. Not only that, but you squander the privilege of being yourself, choosing to become merely a replica of someone else.

#2 – The Theology that Compels Us

Theology can have a similar divisive effect. Here it is critical to make a distinction. Truth matters, and false teaching should be aggressively exposed and rebuked in the church. It is important that the church work to think rightly about God.

We should scour our Bibles in an effort to discern the faith that was once and for all handed down to the saints. We should work to align our preaching, teaching, and leadership to the revealed Word of God. Sloppy, trustless unity is not biblical unity.

Theological concepts compel Christians to take risks, love the marginalized, and pursue pastoral ministry, church planting, or international missions. For example, the idea that men and women around the world who have never heard the gospel are destined for an eternity apart from God has incited in many a passion for international missions.

In stunning irony, the very words that we use to speak about God and the way in which we use those words can be a tool Satan uses to cause division in his church. Christians often size-up others based on the particular words they use to speak about God and the theological camps in which they stake their claim. Many align themselves to certain theological systems or concepts, join forces with others who hold similar ideas, and avoid all those who don’t see things the same way. Such theological snobbery serves to divide God’s church.

Recently, I attended a meeting with a group of pastors and church leaders that included leaders from diverse generations. As the meeting concluded, one of my younger peers raised his hand and said, “This is great and all, but you guys have forgotten the gospel. Without the gospel, none of the rest of this matters.” This guy’s heart was in the right place (I think), and he wanted to remind us of the need for gospel centrality in our ministry.

What he missed was that these leaders had been talking about the gospel–they simply had not said it the way he would or used the same buzzwords that were important to him. Because they did not say it his way, he thought they had not said it at all. The result was that these established pastors felt undermined by a younger leader who had publicly shamed them for missing the gospel.

#3 – The Neglect that Angers Us

Preferences can also be formed negatively. We see something wrong and want to do something about it. A broken world certainly has enough pain and suffering to provoke anger in us all. From sex trafficking to malnutrition and unsafe drinking water to racial discord, we have plenty of pain to address. Christians often embark on their respective ministries in direct response to some unmet need in the church. From stale religious traditions to a lack of evangelistic intentionality to sloppy theology, we are all responding to something.

They are then stunned to learn that not everyone shares their passions. The person with a particular passion for orphan care may not understand why others are not heartbroken for these children as well. The individual with a passion to propel the church to think outside of the church’s walls may not understand those who have a passion to help the church formulate accurate theology. We are prone to forget that God has sovereignly orchestrated our lives, our circumstances, and our passions to prompt us to care about certain needs while doing the same in other people in order to prompt them to address other needs.

I had a wonderful experience in seminary. My time at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary was rich, and I was taught a deep love for disciplined theological insight. This, combined with my introverted and contemplative personality, means that trite, illogical, or unreflective teaching and preaching uniquely frustrates me. This is not true for others.

Many pastors were trained during a time when seminaries were far from a bastion of conservative theology, and they saw their peers fall prey to social gospel liberalism. For them, academic theology does not conjure up positive notions. Those who spend hours debating seemingly minuscule theological notions only to neglect the practical aspects of loving others and sharing the gospel anger them. If I am not careful, I can quickly fall prey to a sterile intellectualism that divorces theological reflection from a life on mission. For this reason, it is vital that I consistently acknowledge this propensity and repent when it hinders my leadership of God’s people.

#4 – The Mission that Drives Us

Finally, Christians should be those who are compelled to action. We see something broken and want to be a part of God’s work to fix it. God plants a mission in our hearts and we act. This passion often consumes younger believers who are just awakening to the beauty of the gospel and the mission of the church. Many are overly confident while still naïve, immature, and often foolish. They have a passion to experiment—to try things even though they may fail.

For example, a teenager in the youth group may notice the apathy in his church and determine to give his life to church-planting to counter this complacency. His passion for this mission may isolate him from the leaders who are laboring to bring change in local churches where apathy reigns supreme.

The seasoned believer may understand his mission differently. He has invested countless hours of blood, sweat, and tears into seeing a group of people conformed to the image of Christ through the local church. It may appear to those on the outside that all he cares about is the institution of the church, but in his heart he understands his mission to love these people faithfully. He may, unintentionally, feel threatened by younger men and women who come along—fearing that they may not love people the way that he does or harm the church he’s invested in for decades.

These factors shape every leader and make him or her unique and produce Christians with a unique set of preferences. The danger is when these preferences become ultimate—making us abrasive to others, dismissive of their counsel, and increasingly prideful—thinking that we have somehow mastered the art of doing church.

Unity does not mean that we relinquish our preferences, but that we have the wisdom and maturity to love and serve others in spite of our preferences. Through genuine effort and honest conversation, they can work to see beyond preferences and find a person who may love Jesus and his church just as much as they do.

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Matt Rogers is the pastor of The Church at Cherrydale in Greenville, South Carolina. He and his wife, Sarah, have three daughters, Corrie, Avery, and Willa and a son, Hudson. Matt holds a Master of Arts in counseling from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary as well as a Master of Divinity and a PhD  from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Matt writes and speaks for throughout the United States on discipleship, church planting, and missions. Find Matt online at www.mattrogers.bio or follow him on Twitter @mattrogers_

Adapted from a chapter Matt wrote with eight other leaders from Unite: Connecting Leaders from Diverse Generations, representing diverse generations and exhorting the church to find practical ways to forge unity.

Making Disciples at Home

Make disciples. That is what Jesus has called the church to do. Making disciples means reaching the lost and equipping believers to declare and display the gospel in all of life—even parenting. God has entrusted parents with children to raise and nurture in the gospel.

The church partners with parents to make disciples of the next generation by encouraging and equipping parents in this task and investing into the lives of their children through gospel-centered children and student ministries. The church’s mission to make disciples informs and encourages the parent’s pursuit of being a disciple and making disciples at home.

In turn, the parent’s pursuit of making disciples at home furthers and strengthens the church’s mission of making disciples. Making disciples is the mission of the church and it must help parents pursue it faithfully at home.

Churches and Parents Partnering Together

Making disciples of the next generation must be a partnership between churches and parents. Churches cannot replace parents and parents cannot be independent of the church.

Within our own church, we have tried to think through avenues of partnership that promotes discipleship through the church and in the home. Here are some categories that help us navigate this partnership:

– Encourage Parents

Parenting is not easy. There are countless decisions and situations parents face that bring them to an end of themselves. They are regularly reminded of their insufficiency and inability to change the hearts of their children. As much as they need equipping to be more faithful parents, they also need encouragement both as parents and disciples.

Every believing parent is at the same time a disciple and needs to be reminded of who God is, what he has done, and who they are in him. They also need to be encouraged to stay faithful in serving, disciplining, and loving their children. As leaders in the church, we must not undervalue the importance of making a phone call just to check in with a parent or having a lunch meeting to encourage them in their pursuit of Christ and discipling their children.

In the past, our church’s student ministry has invited parents to a quarterly event called Parent Connect. This time is designed to both encourage and equip parents in their task of making disciples at home. Being with other parents while sharing both the challenges and joys of parenting can be a great blessing. It also provides a time for our leadership to hear directly from parents regarding the challenges and questions they have as parents, which in turn helps us better equip them as parents and disciple-makers.

– Equip Parents to Make Disciples at Home

While it is vital to enter into the challenges of parenting and speak life-giving, gospel-rooted encouragement, it is also essential that the church calls parents to make disciples at home and equip them to do so. There is not one particular way the church accomplishes this; however, through a multitude of ways the church can both emphasize this calling and equip parents to carry it out. Consider the following ways:

• Remind parents of their calling as parents through faithful biblical preaching
• Speak directly to the challenges and opportunities of parenting in your sermons
• Devote a sermon series, discipleship class, or retreat to the issues of parenting and disciple making in the home
• Host parent events that focus on specific parenting topics (e.g., Parent Connect)
• Provide parents with resources in your newsletter or ministry update

Ask yourself: What avenues of ministry does my church have that we can use to better equip parents in making disciples at home?

Sometimes it can be the small things that help parents most. For example, each month our student ministry sends out a monthly update. Within those emails, we have a “Parent Connect” section that provides links to various topics that aim to provide parents with resources to help them better raise and disciple their children.

As a student minister, there is nothing more encouraging than hearing how a particular resource encouraged a parent or helped them work through a situation or have a difficult conversation.

– Reach, Equip, and Send Students

Another significant way churches partner with parents is through having a faithful student ministry. While most churches have student ministries, it is important how a student ministry understands its mission and how it carries it out.

A faithful student ministry does not aim to replace parents or entertain students. It aims to reach students with the gospel, equip them to be disciple-makers, and send them on mission. A faithful student ministry does not isolate itself from the rest of the church, but reflects the mission of the church and helps foster that mission within the lives of students and families.

When a church’s student ministry carries out its ministry with parents in mind it can strengthen the ministry of parents by echoing the same gospel and promoting the same mission in the lives of their students.

From Church to Home: Parents Making Disciples

If you are parent, how do you make disciples at home?

How do you help your children come to faith in Christ? How can you help your student take the next step in their walk with Christ? How do you make disciples when you are so busy already? How do you make disciples when there are so many other influences in your student's life?

Making disciples at home isn't a cookie-cutter process. It won't just happen if you love Jesus and pray before your meals. It won't work to hope that someone else will do it. Making disciples at home will only happen as parents pursue making disciples with intentionality and great dependence on God. Let me give you three categories to help you think about how you can more faithfully make disciples at home:

– Be A Disciple

Making disciples at home begins with being a disciple of Christ. Many parents put their children in church because they want them to have a positive influence in life. Ironically, what they hope for their children, they fail to pursue themselves.

Other parents want their children to follow Jesus and make wise decisions, but they simply don't hold themselves to the same standard. The goal we should desire for our children is that they know Christ and submit their lives to Him. This is the hallmark of a disciple. If we desire this for our children, we cannot help them get to where we have not gone ourselves.

Ask yourself:

• How is your relationship with God?
• How are you doing at prioritizing time in God's Word?
• How are you working out your faith in the office? In your marriage?

I challenge you to so live for Christ as his disciple in every area of your life that your children cannot help but take notice.

– As You Go

Deuteronomy 6:4-8 is a key text in thinking about what making disciples at home looks like. How do you help your children love God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength? Deuteronomy 6:7 says, "Talk about it when you sit down in your house and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up."

In other words, as you go throughout each day and week, talk about the Lord with your children. Talk about it on the ride home from school, on the way to practice, around the kitchen table, as you get ready in the morning, or before you go to bed each night. These conversations don't have to be formal or equate to a Bible study. Ask them questions and listen to the struggles and problems they face. Think through gospel truths your student needs to hear. Find ways to connect those truths to their life.

While your child might now want to hear it from you or may appear not to listen, these words and moments can have lasting impact long after the awkwardness or silence of these conversations. The beauty of a church committed to making disciples is that parents and pastors have the opportunity to echo the same truths into the lives of children and teenagers through a mosaic of relationships. Think of your parenting as having a cumulative impact on the direction of your child's life. It most likely won't be one particular conversation that changes everything, but it will be the everyday, as you go, ordinary moments that shape and mold who your child is in Christ.

– Family Worship

There are multiple ways families make time for family worship, but the most important point is that you make time for it. I'll be the first to acknowledge this can be difficult to do consistently. However, its value is worth the difficulty of figuring out how to do it. The mistake many people is making it more than it has to be.

In Donald Whitney's Family Worship, he encourages a simple plan: read the Bible, pray together, and sing. Take time to reflect on a passage of the Bible (maybe from Sunday's message or your student's small group), pray together (ask your student about the things on their heart/mind), and sing (see if your church has a Spotify playlist). In this interview, Whitney provides detailed information about family worship.

We cannot relegate making disciples to Sunday. It must be woven into our daily life. Let me encourage you: this will not go as you would like. You will fail. You will have funny attempts to connect God's truth to your teenager's life. In the midst of this pursuit, don't grow weary in doing what is right. Don't lose sight of the goal. Don't forget this is ultimately a work of God's grace through his Spirit.

God has given us his Word to might pass it on to our children "so that a future generation-children yet to be born-might know. They were to rise and tell their children, so that they might put their confidence in God and not forget God's works, but keep His commands" (Ps. 78:5-7).

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Michael Guyer is the Minister to Students at Open Door Church where he has served for the last five years. He gets most excited about good coffee, enjoying friends and family, making disciples, engaging culture, and planting churches. He writes to help others delight in, declare, and display the gospel in all of life. Connect with Michael on Twitter or his website.

Creative Father, Creative Children

I’ve heard more than once that creativity is a genetic trait, and I think that’s probably true. I’ve seen it in my own childhood when my mother, a police officer, would spend her scant free time painting and sketching. Both of her kids eventually followed in her footsteps, with my brother becoming a natural artist like her. He would come home from school with piles of drawings, pottery dishes, and guitar chords for songs he was writing.

I, on the other hand, usually expressed myself by sewing my own mall-goth attire and writing bad poetry that I think may have put me on the school counselor’s watch list.

My creative mother gave birth to creative kids. I’m beginning to see this emerge in my own children too; my oldest has already shown an aptitude for piano, a gift of musical creation that could have come from his father or my brother.

However, my youngest has disabilities that will probably prevent her from ever reading sheet music. She may never sit in a college lecture and hear about the work of Renoir or Kahlo, or even write angsty, cringeworthy poetry like I did.

And yet, she seems to have this innate understanding that the creative process is gratifying, and that being a creator is something to take joy in. Every day when she returns home from preschool, our daughter drags her backpack to us and gestures for us to open it and pull out her artwork.

Day after day, Katherine brings home pieces of art that have no real explanation, purpose, or professional qualities to them. And day after day, she is extraordinarily proud of herself. She takes great joy in her art.

Maybe it’s in her genes too, but the desire to create runs deeper than my immediate family tree. The imaginative works that my brother, my kids, and I produce may be genetically influenced by my mother, but ultimately they are gifts from the Father.

A Creative Father

The first few words of the Bible establishes God as a creator and ex nihilo (“out of nothing”) is the term most commonly used to describe his artistic process. God created the universe and the planet we live on—out of nothing. The earth, water, and the skies are all his craftsmanship.

But only one piece from his collection was a self-portrait: humanity. In Genesis 1:26-27, God is described as creating man in his image and likeness, and from that day forward, men and women continued to bear the imago dei. He gave his image bearers dominion over the rest of his created work and commanded us to care for it.

The first and ultimate Artist created more artists—from builders and designers to painters and poets. Christians worship and serve a creative God.

What art tells us about ourselves and our Father

Part of my ministry internship responsibilities include spending time at an art gallery that my church sponsors. It’s not unusual to have patrons walk in for a few minutes to marvel at the art, only to make a confused face when they see cards for our church on the counter.

Staff members often get asked, “Why would a church sponsor an art gallery?” For us, supporting the creative arts in our city is a matter of aligning our interests with God’s. He clearly values creativity; he is the author of it.  Shouldn’t Christians value it too?  Why wouldn’t we support image-bearing artists as they express and create in a manner representative of their Creator?

The reason creativity resonates with us so strongly is because we bear the imago dei. Artistry is what we are made of, so it calls to us and pulls us in. We fuss over each drop of paint and each written word until we get our own creations just right. We are moved by works of others and deeply satisfied when we finally finish our own.

This intense care we have for our created work mirrors the care God has for his own creation and the joy he took in making it all. He was pleased with what he made.

Any time we see thoughtful workmanship—a painting, a song, a hand-knit sweater or a beautifully-prepared meal—it should serve as a reminder of the creative God we serve.

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Rachelle Cox converted from Mormonism six years ago and is now passionate about helping women understand God's good word and good theology. She is a women's ministry intern at Karis Church, and is beginning her theological education at Boyce College. She loves serving her husband and two children, and writes at http://eachpassingphase.com 

Adapted with permission. Originally posted at “Creative Father, Creative Children.”

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

I was raised in the cessationist tradition, which means I was taught to never believe God was speaking to me other than through His words in the Bible. No seeing signs in the shapes in the clouds, no hearing calls from Jesus. I might feel like God was saying something specific about His love for me whenever I got the fitted sheet the right way on the mattress on the first try, but I knew better.  But last year, a remarkable providence (that’s cessationist code for “miracle”) reminded me of how God often tells us in His Word that He wants us to tells others how we’ve experienced that what He says about Himself is all gloriously true. He even leaves us tangible objects to stir our memories, and prompt our words. On the morning of our wedding, my husband gave me a diamond solitaire necklace, made from his grandmother’s engagement ring. For my birthday six months later, he gave me a small pair of platinum hoop earrings. I waited what I hoped was the right amount of time before our first anniversary to confess my lingering discomfort with owning or caring for expensive, sparkly things after growing up in a family who could barely afford the basics. But I thanked him for his generosity, and promised I’d do my best to take care of what he’d already so kindly given me.

I kept that promise for fifteen years. Then on one particularly hectic morning when I was late for work, I slipped the necklace and earrings into the inside pocket of a small, black purse, thinking I’d have time during my morning commute to put them on. But then I promptly forgot about them, and at the end of the day the purse went on its shelf with several others. When I next went to my jewelry box to get my necklace and earrings, and saw they weren’t there, I scoured the house with what felt like Luke 15:8 zeal. But several days of searching didn’t lead to finding. I quietly berated myself for my carelessness after so many years, and sat under what felt like the chastisement of the Lord for my bad stewardship.

One Saturday afternoon, my youngest daughter Kate burst through the back door after a morning running errands with her Dad. “Look what I found in the trunk of car, Mommy!” she said with delight.  In her hand was one, small, platinum hoop earring. Gasping, I asked her how she had found it. “We took those bags of giveaway things to Goodwill, and when Daddy was closing the trunk I saw it sparkling!” My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach. A vague memory surfaced  of a recent closet purging, endin with my tossing my purse into the top of a garbage bag filled with clothes, then the bag into the trunk of my car. I thought I’d remembered to search all the pockets. I obviously hadn’t.

My middle daughter offered to ride with me to the Goodwill to make a last, surely impossible, attempt to find my jewelry.  Before I pulled out of the driveway, I prayed out loud, asking God to show me undeserved mercy in helping me find my jewelry, and to give me His peace if I didn’t. As I drove, I talked with my daughter about what God might be teaching us, almost certain that it had to do with things like trusting Him when hard things happen, the futility of valuing material things that can be so easily lost, the importance of being a good steward of the material blessings He gives us, and on. And in my heart, I spoke to God about what He was teaching my daughter as she watched events unfold, and prayed for His help to be faithful.

We pulled into the drop off area behind the Goodwill, and the sight of rows and rows of barrels overflowing with the discards of an entire city made my heart sink.  A worker named Bob heard my plea as I showed him the earring my littlest girl had found. He chatted away as my daughter and I walked amongst the barrels, desperate to catch a glimpse of a garbage bag that looked like ours. “We get someone like you here every week,” he said. They’re looking for prescription glasses, jewelry, money, a passport one time. They never find ‘em.”

With Bob’s encouraging words ringing in my ears, I decided our search was futile. I gave him my business card, with a note on the back promising a cash reward if the contents of the purse were ever found, and my daughter and I headed back to the car.  On the trip home, we talked some more. What had God meant by letting my little girl find one earring, but not the purse with the rest of it? With our question unresolved, I dropped her back home to finish homework, and then drove on the Container Store, suddenly inspired to pick up some decorative boxes I’d been thinking about buying to better organize my closet.

I was standing in line when my phone rang.

“Mrs. Starke, this is Bob. We found your purse, and your jewelry is in it. When do you want to come pick it up? I gotta tell ya, I’ve worked here five years and this is the first time this has ever happened.”

I burst into unashamed tears of gratefulness, and told him I’d come right away. I didn’t even wait for the people around me to ask what had happened. Filled with Luke 15:9 joy, I just told them. “I accidentally left the jewelry I wore on my wedding day in a purse I donated to GoodWill, and someone just found it! The man at the store said it was impossible, but I prayed, and God did it! Because that’s. what. God. does! “

The strangers made affirming noises of varying kinds at the crazy lady having a personal “praise Jesus” moment in the checkout line, and the checker hurried me through paying for my things, so I could be on my way and out of her store. Twenty minutes later, after stopping at an ATM for the promised reward, the diamond necklace and other earring were back in my hands. A few minutes after that, I opened the back door of my house, and stood in the entry way silently, waiting for my girls to see me and what hung, sparkling, around my neck and in ears once more. They squealed, and stared in amazement, questions and exclamations tumbling over each other.

That afternoon, my daughters and I lived out David’s exhortations in Psalm 105 and Psalm 145 - we commended God’s works to one another, and reminded each other of God’s goodness and mercy to us. We’ve done it every time I’ve worn my jewelry since then. My necklace has become my personal “Ebenezer”, a reminder of a day when God taught me to trust Him with circumstances totally beyond my control. My necklace holds no power in and of itself. But it points me to the One who has it all, Who upholds the universe with it, and who can and does work mightily on my behalf.

I learned that day how God works through ordinary circumstances and ordinary things, and that the ordinary objects in our lives can be used to bear witness to our extraordinary God, and the good things He has done.

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Rachael Starke has lived and worked in Silicon Valley for over 18 years. She writes about the intersection of the gospel with technology, gender, food, and other cultural artifacts. You can connect with her on Twitter, LinkedIn or her blog. 

The Gospel Doesn’t Accommodate

The gospel is unaccommodating. That is not to say that the gospel isn't powerful, but it isn't putty to be formed in our subjective hands. God didn't send Messiah to come and barter a deal with partisan politics—you know, the "reach across the aisle" sort of thing. Jesus wasn't crucified so that his potential and actual followers could make up their own version of why that particular substitutionary atonement was important (or not). As a pastor I find this to be one of the most difficult things about my ministry. Not only does my own heart battle, I'm called to shepherd others whose hearts are battling. Living in Christian community is challenging because so many things are vying for our attention. In the middle of it all is this temptation to want to bend on the demands of the gospel.

Jesus's yoke is easy, his burden light. But that's not the same as saying that there is no burden—the call is hard. The gospel will have all of you, or none of you. Christ's Kingdom doesn't settle for partial dominion. There are no spots in your life—in my life, too—where Christ will say, “That's for someone else.” Yes, the battle in the heart is hard, for we are quick to fashion idols. But the demands of the gospel are comprehensive because the world is in comprehensive sin. Wherever sin goes, the gospel goes deeper.

The Gospel Doesn’t Accommodate

It doesn't work the same way as booking a vacation. You don't get to choose your amenities and ask about the fridge in the room. You either come, or you don't. The terms and conditions are set, and negotiations are completely off the table.

And yet what do we see happen in evangelicalism? We see compromise on the demands of the gospel. We see alterations on the fabric of the gospel. We see disputes over the content of the gospel. We see attempts at making the gospel more palatable, more accommodating. Is this our gospel? More to the point, is this Christ's gospel?

Jesus said in Matthew 10:24, "A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master." Which means that, for example, you don't get to rule yourself. The gospel doesn't let you govern your heart, for clearly sinners are incapable of doing so. And yet how many want their Christ and their idols?

"Ah, but we have room in our hearts for both!" No, you don't. You can't serve two masters, and serving no one isn't an option. As Bob Dylan has taught us, "You've gotta serve somebody." Either we will be slaves to sin, or we will be slaves of Christ (Rom. 6:6ff).

The Weight of the Gospel’s Demands

Part of the problem stems from a failure to see the weight of the demands of the gospel. Whether it's intentional or not, we gladly look the other direction. Jesus says, "Take up your cross," and we say, "That was only a metaphor." Jesus says, "Follow me," and we say, "Well he’s in heaven. That doesn’t mean anything for me now." Jesus says, "You must hate mother and father!" And what do we say? "Jesus couldn't have meant that."

Why are we so willing to set aside the hard sayings of Jesus and opt instead for a Jesus of our own creation? Perhaps C.S. Lewis was right after all, we're half-hearted creatures.

A part of me wonders if we're just plain insecure. We're insecure about admitting our failures, doubts, questions, and concerns. We're insecure about looking foolish for having failed Jesus (somehow). We're insecure about the light shining in the darkness, after all, the cockroaches scurry about when the light finds them.

At a root level, we all want to be liked, treasured, and adored. (All the things the gospel provides, mind you.) We want some tangible sense of being appreciated, loved, and accepted. We long for someone to come alongside us and affirm that we're not that stupid. Like a man stuck in the desert, we thirst for acceptance.

The Religious Idolatry 

We want to be liked in all the wrong ways and all the wrong places. Idolatry is a fight for reconciliation. We want something other than the triune God to help us get closer to God. I mean, come on, even Aaron dedicated the idol to Yahweh (Exod. 32:4-5)!

At the risk of coming across rather incredulous, the most dangerous idols aren't the ones that stand in stark contrast to God, they are the ones that stand most closely to God. The religious people who read their devotional several times a day. The religious people who proudly flaunt how much they tithe. The religious people who are proud about their humility. You know what I'm talking about.

I said above that idolatry is a fight for reconciliation. Here's what I mean: If we will be people reconciled to Christ, we must be unreconciled to idols. You can't serve two masters. You cannot hang on to all the gods, no matter how beautiful the pantheon paint looks.

The person who wants the gospel to be more accommodating to their terms and conditions is the person whose world is unreconciled (or at least unrecognizably reconciled). After all,

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

The heart becomes divided. Idols appeal to our flesh. We question the gospel's demands. All of this is an issue of reconciliation. Will we give ourselves to Christ on his terms? Or will we sabotage our reconciliation in him by trying to reconcile ourselves to our idols? A duplicitous heart is a heart without rest.

There’s No Manipulating the Gospel

The gospel doesn't allow for manipulation. The good news of Christ crucified doesn't have a footnote. The empty tomb doesn't have an alternative ending. The gospel demands all of you, and leaves no room for silly trinkets in the heart.

Dear reader, the call is simple: Resist the urge to craft an idol to suit your comfort. Resist the urge to make God into your image. Resist the urge to want to placate your pleasure seeking with false piety. Resist.

Know that the gospel won't accommodate your cute decorative idols. It won't accommodate your crafty sensualities. The gospel is unaccommodating to your imaginative attempts at making its message more palatable. And for that, I'm grateful.

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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.

You can read all of Jason’s articles here.

A Fate Worse Than Eating Dog Food

There’s a haunting scene in the newest season of The Walking Dead that has stuck with me. After being captured by enemies, Daryl, a beloved character, is placed in a small cell. He is fed—and viewers are intentionally shown—dog food that is haphazardly spread on white bread. The dehumanizing effects of captivity are well portrayed. His captors want him to understand: he is not human, he’s something less, and he’s not worthy of human meals. His rights are no more than a dog in a cage. But it is not the diet alone that distinguishes humanity from beasts. More brutal than his daily lunch is his unrelenting isolation. The dirty, concrete cell is shown to be devoid of all light. Alone with nothing but his thoughts, his tormentors deprive him of any sense of dignity or community.

The detrimental effects of solitary confinement are well-documented. Yet, it is not uncommon for God’s people to live their lives as if they are ignorant of his Words: “It is not good that man be alone” (Gen. 2:18).

Marriage and Family Are Good

After God created all forms of animals to roam the land, sky, and seas, he makes man in his own image. However, none of the animals were a fit companion for this solitary man. So he makes another human utilizing parts from Adam himself, like him but different—complimentary.

God gives us the gift of lifelong companionship to combat the not-goodness of being alone. But companionship in marriage is not the only gift God gives to prevent aloneness. Shortly after joining the two in marriage he commands them: “Be fruitful and multiply” (Gen. 1:28).

While marriage is not insufficient in itself, love often multiplies and expands beyond the initial parties. Similar to how God himself, lacking nothing, created others to share in his love (1 Jn. 4:8), he calls man who bears his image to multiply as well.

God gives us the gift of children who will outlive us and further our impact. Or as the psalmist puts it: “Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth” (Ps. 127:4).

Marriage and Family Aren’t Guaranteed

So far my examples have been idealistic. While marriage is good, it is not promised to everyone. While children are good, the effects of living in a fallen world sometimes includes couples who are barren. Tragically, sometimes parents end up burying the children that were intended to outlive and out influence them.

As good as spouses and children are, they are common graces. A good marriage or a good family is not necessarily a distinguishing mark of God’s blessing. It is possible that a righteous man may lose his wife or family, and a wicked man’s family may prosper.

While marriage and family are important, they are not ultimate. While they are excellent, they are not eternal (Mt. 22:30). The kingdom of God, on the other hand, is.

The Church Is Better

The now and not yet of God’s kingdom is a difficult concept to grasp. Graeme Goldsworthy offers a helpful way of thinking about God’s kingdom: “God’s people in God’s place under God’s rule.”

Using this definition, God’s kingdom was fully realized in Eden, but then shattered after humans rebelled against him. This way of thinking also helps us to make sense of all the times Jesus refers to the kingdom during his earthly ministry. It is in our midst (Lk. 17:21) where people are willfully submissive to God. This is why the Church’s importance cannot be overstated.

In the Church, we get the clearest picture of the kingdom of God before it is fully realized. In it, people joyfully submit to God in worship and reverence. Sure, the Church is made up of various marriages and families, but it is of greater importance and longevity. In its walls, today’s families are united with those of some 2000 years ago as they place themselves under God’s rule as the benevolent father who has adopted a family for eternal life (Eph. 1:3-5). The saints perfected in heaven look down upon those being prepared for a future day where they will join them (Eph. 1:10).

The Church is also a home and a refuge for those that do not have spouses, children, or families. We are tasked to take care of the orphaned, the widowed, the barren, and the unmarried (Js. 1:27). And it is a primary sign of true religion.

The Beauty of the Bride

If marriage and offspring were essential, then Jesus would be less than perfect because he had neither. The profundity of this is full of warnings as well as encouragement. Warnings for those who deny the necessity of life in community. The “one anothers” of Scripture, as well as our commission to make disciples are impossible for the hermit. Jesus does not call hermits, but disciples who will make, mature, and multiply other disciples. This warning is just as needed for the introverted layperson as for the pastor that is tempted to neglect relationships in favor of study.

The encouragement is for those who desire a spouse or a family but don’t yet have one. For the single among us, they have an example in Jesus who lived a full life while never participating in the covenant of marriage. Similarly, the infertile inherit a family that transcends the bounds of their own blood as they are absorbed into the Church family that was bought by the blood of Christ (1 Pt. 1:18;19). Additionally, they imitate Christ when they adopt children and raise them as their own (Gal. 4:5).

The Kingdom Feast

Jesus further models for us how life in community is to be lived out. He chooses twelve disciples. Our influence in discipling relationships cannot be spread too thin or it will decrease in potency. He then shares life with them. The humanity of Scripture is worth noting here. My wife laments that so much of modern television and movies neglect to show the characters eating. (Even more lamentable is the pain they go through to show them fornicating—it is clear what appetites drive ratings.) But Scripture, as truth, accurately portrays humans as social creatures in need of sustenance. There is no shortage of bread broken among Jesus and his disciples.

Food, perhaps more than anything else, brings people together. “The Last Meeting” would be far less memorable in our minds than “The Last Supper.” It was over a Passover meal that Jesus chose to reveal the things of ultimate importance (1 Cor. 15:3) to his inner community of twelve disciples. A master teacher, he utilizes the meal as a prop to appeal to the kinesthetic, and visual learners, as well as the auditory ones. He would leave them, but not alone, they would have each other. No, instead he would be alone. Unaccompanied by his community, he would go to the cross.

Worse yet, he’d be forsaken by his Father (Mt. 27:46). We get a glimpse into one of the greatest mysteries of the faith when the Son suffers the Father’s wrath on behalf of sinful mankind. There, on the cross, he’d be stripped of his dignity (Heb. 12:2) as well as his clothes. His blood would be drained on behalf of humanity, and he’d be exposed to the elements, thirst (Jn. 19:28), and hunger. All to join us together as a redeemed community (Jn. 19:26; 27) under his lordship.

His last supper foreshadowed all these events. Even his betrayer, was welcomed at his table. He’d die alone, so that those who were once his enemies (Rom. 5:10) would not have to dine alone. He’d give us a glimpse into the future fully realized kingdom where unlikely guests are welcomed into the great feast (Mt. 22:10).

There at the feast, in the fully realized kingdom of God, we will dine on the finest food and drink the best wine (Jn. 2:10). But better than the food will be the fellowship of the redeemed with the Redeemer. For the distinguishing mark of the kingdom is not food (Rom. 14:17), but love. Solomon’s wisdom tells us that an unsatisfying meal with love is better than a great feast where there is no love (Prov. 15:17).

In other words, there is a fate worse than eating dog food—eating alone.

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Sean Nolan (B.S. and M.A., Clarks Summit University) is the Family Life Pastor at Christ Fellowship Church in Forest Hill, Maryland. Prior to that, he served at a church plant in Troy, New York for seven years and taught Hermeneutics to ninth and tenth graders. He is married to Hannah and is raising an army of toddlers. He blogs at Family Life Pastor.

You can read all of Sean’s articles here.

Following Christ in the Age of Authenticity

In a recent issue of New York magazine, Heather Havrilesky, the columnist for “Ask Polly,” says readers should not see the millennial generation as “spoiled,” “entitled,” and “overconfident.” The millennials she hears from “feel guilty and inadequate at every turn.” They “compare themselves relentlessly to others. They are turned inside out, day after day, by social media.” Guilty. Unworthy. Anxious. Failing to meet society’s standards. A secular generation may not talk much about sin and judgment, but guilt and anxiousness lurk in every human heart. And it’s not just because of social media, although our online interactions do magnify the problem. Feelings of unworthiness won’t go away.

What should we do? The world says pursue happiness, whatever the cost, by becoming the best version of “you” possible. Look inside for salvation, and then look outside for affirmation. The problem is, “the curated version of you that lives online also feels hopelessly polished and inaccurate,” Havrilesky writes, “and you feel, somehow, that you alone are the inauthentic one.” Show your true self and you’ll be shamed.

Another problem is that this pursuit of happiness—finding yourself and being true to whatever authentic person you decide to be—turns out to be rather exhausting. “Merely muddling through, doing your best, seeing friends when you can, trying to enjoy yourself as much as possible, is, according to the reigning dictates of today’s culture, tantamount to failure. You must live your best life and be the best version of yourself, otherwise you’re nothing and no one.” In other words, if you’re not happy, you’re to blame.

So what does Havrilesky suggest? Millennials should get over their feelings of guilt and shame by accepting themselves as they already are: “enjoy exactly who you are and what you have, right here, and right now.” In other words, if they’re not happy with themselves, they need to look deeper within and become happy with themselves. This, to me, is like giving fatty foods as the medicine for someone who has high cholesterol. It’s compounding the problem by doubling down on what is actually causing the issue.

So, here is the question we as Christians should ask: do we have a better story than this? What if Jesus’ counterintuitive call to lose our lives, to deny ourselves, to pick up our crosses, is actually the invitation to happiness that goes far beyond anything we could conjure up in our own hearts?

If the gospel tells a better story of salvation, it’s only because it first tells a starker story of sin. First, we have to note the severity of our sinfulness. We have to take a stark look inside to discover the dark depths of our own hearts. The problem we have is not that you feel guilty, but that you are guilty. The problem is not that you feel unworthy of happiness, but that you are unworthy of any good gift that comes from our Creator. Scripture doesn’t brush off feelings of guilt, anxiousness, and unworthiness. It presses deeper into them.

Secondly, we need to recognize that “following your heart” is more complicated than it sounds. Who really knows what the heart wants? As G. K. Chesterton wrote: “The self is more distant than any star. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, but thou shalt not know thyself.” Figuring out what your heart wants is actually harder than pursuing what your heart wants. “The heart is more deceitful than anything else,” said the prophet Jeremiah,” and incurable – who can understand it?”

Thankfully, the gospel has a fresh word for the weary and guilt-ridden. We don’t look inside ourselves for salvation, but up to God as the Savior. The gospel should come as a relief to people, not as a burdensome list of moral regulations we are now to fulfill. We are relieved that the pursuit of happiness is not something we must attain on our own, but that the God of all joy and love has pursued us, into the depths of our wicked hearts. We are relieved that we are not the center of the universe, but that God is at the center and we find our fullness in loving and enjoying Him. We are relieved that the gospel tells us of a Savior who cried out “It is Finished!” so that His accomplishment is where we find our peace.

To be authentic, as a Christian, means I am to be true to the person Christ has named me, not the person I think I am inside. I am to live according to what God says I am—His redeemed child, a person remade in the image of Christ— and I now act in line with that identity. As a Christian, saved by grace through faith, I am not authentic when I sin. I’m sinning against my newfound identity. I am being inauthentic when I choose to disobey God, when I give in to temptation. I’m rejecting the identity God has spoken over me. True authenticity is not accepting my own self-expression but accepting the self-expression of God through Jesus Christ.

To be a conformist, as a Christian, means we are seeking to have our minds renewed and our lives transformed. We want to be conformed into the image of Christ. But this conformity means we look like rebels to the rest of the world. The true rebellion is in the heart of the Christian who follows Jesus by swimming upstream against the currents of the world. That means, when everyone else is following their hearts, we will follow Jesus.

What is our ultimate goal in life? To glorify God and enjoy Him forever. The Christian’s hope is for our greatest desire to meet our greatest Delight. That’s what sets us out on our adventure.

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Trevin Wax is Bible and Reference Publisher at LifeWay Christian Resources and managing editor of The Gospel Project. You can follow him on Twitter or receive blog posts via email.

Adapted with permission from Trevin Wax’s This Is Our Time: Everyday Myths in Light of the Gospel

Christ: The Only Agent of Change

Recently, my small group decided that we needed to renew our efforts to dig deeper into community with one another. Two of the primary ways we planned on doing this are by praying toward that end and by learning to ask one another questions rather than offer advice. We want to take a stab at being men and women who are quick to hear and slow to speak (Jas. 1:19), that we might create space to make much of Christ, the only agent of change. If you’ve been around the church, much of that probably sounds cliché and, in one sense, I suppose it is.¹ That’s because collaborative attempts “to dig deeper into community” and the practices that accompany it are some of the more stereotypical small group efforts; however, they are also simple acts of obedience to Jesus. For us, the decision to dig deeper into community wasn’t cliché—It was simply born out of obedience to Jesus as well as a response to the state of our small group.

Falling Short

Apart from our recent efforts, most of our time together has been characterized by disproportionately shallow, even unhelpful, conversations and weekly attempts at corporate encouragement, rebuke, repentance, and prayer have been short on practical, Christ-centered wisdom. In fact, most of our conversations have been dominated by an irreverent post-share rush to offer one another advice, instead of the forbearing work of asking and answering what David Powlison describes as “X-ray Questions.”²

In short, our small group has been caught trafficking in pop psychology and truisms. For example, instead of responding to statements like “My boss has been such a jerk lately . . . I think I want to quit my job” with questions, we just change the subject. Typically, people reply with some tired version of “I know how you feel, Rob” or “Just keep at it” or “Geez, well here’s how I deal with my boss, Sydney.” Sadly, this pitiful practice has closed doors to gospel application and furthered feelings of frustration, estrangement, and disillusionment within the group.

Perhaps worst of all, though, is the reality that our previous efforts have caused us to make much of ourselves, instead of the very One in whom we are found, healed, and made whole (Matt. 9:12; 1 Pt. 2:25). When communities find themselves in this situation, Bob Thune and Will Walker remind us, “The good news of the gospel is not that God makes much of us, but that God frees us to make much of Jesus.”³

That means we need to spend less time peddling worldly wisdom and more time making much of Jesus if we really want to change.

What’s Wrong?

My best guess as to why our communities lack deep community is that we have exchanged the deep things of God and heart for the world’s favorite form of wisdom: advice. As many have observed, it takes just five minutes in the local bookstore to conclude that we are an advice-obsessed culture. We crave quick tips and seek out superficial sayings. And the internet has made this kind of advice even more accessible. In fact, today it seems like we’re just as likely to use Google to seek out pithy proverbs as we are to find ideas for our next DIY project. But it’s not just us.

Together, the world, the flesh, and the devil have been operating a murderous joint venture since the first Adam’s fall from grace, peddling a false view of humanity and its condition. Over the last couple of centuries, this clandestine cartel has given rise to a dangerous preoccupation with the psychologized self and moralistic advice that has permeated every nook and cranny of our culture. If you don’t believe me, just tune in to the nearest TV between the hours of noon and 4:00pm!

Like the proverbial fish that doesn’t know it lives in water, our communities have been operating as a microcosm of the larger culture in which we live. We have been far too satisfied with counterfeit hopes and unbiblical theories of change, giving in to what Tim Lane and Paul Tripp describe as “hollow and deceptive theories of change that masquerade as biblical wisdom.”⁴

Admittedly, those hollow and deceptive theories of change are hard to see, “because they borrow some aspect of biblical truth”⁵ and then operate just below the biblical horizon. Ultimately, though, “they are hollow because they miss the center of biblical wisdom, which is Christ.”⁶

So what needs to change? And how can our group learn to see Christ better, and what would seeing him better enable us to be and do?

Christ: The Only Agent of Change

At the most basic level, our community groups have forgotten who and what we are in Christ. We have failed to point one another to him and the resources that are available in and through him by the Spirit (Rom. 8:9-11; Gal. 4:6-7). Of course, there is more to the change process than simply reminding one another of Jesus.

That’s because the rubber meets the road only when we learn to live into the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection and to apply it to every area of life. One of the primary ways that happens is through small groups, especially ones that spend time praying and asking questions instead of giving advice.

Moving forward, our group plans to do just that. Rather than continuing to anesthetize one another with the worthless words of worldly wisdom, we will make a habit of praying and asking questions. Those habits will teach us how to celebrate and apply Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection to every area of life, which will in turn empower us to grow into thoughtful brothers and sisters who are free to encourage, rebuke, repent, and pray authentically.

For our group, that will mean responding to statements like “My boss has been such a jerk lately . . . I think I want to quit my job” with questions. For example, “Can you tell us more about that?” or “Has his behavior caused you to respond sinfully?” or “Would you be willing to share anything about specific points of tension?” Answers to questions like that create space for honest self-reflection, and self-reflection is the hinge by which the doors to gospel application are always opened.

In other words, groups that fail to ask questions fail to open hearts. And closed hearts aren’t interested in Jesus. When we gather, we will look to Christ. We will claim all that is already ours in and through him (1 Pt. 1:3-5), even as we long for the day he will complete in us what is yet unfinished (1 Jn. 3:2).

1. David Powlison, “X-ray Questions: Drawing Out the Whys and Wherefores of Human Behavior,” The Journal of Biblical Counseling 18:1 (Fall 1999), 2-8.

2. Robert H. Thune and Will Walker, The Gospel-Centered Life: Leader’s Guide (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2011), 35.

3. Timothy S. Lane and Paul David Tripp, How People Change (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2008), 20. For more, see Timothy J. Keller, Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex, and Power, and the Only Hope That Matters (New York: Penguin, 2011) and Edward T. Welch, “Who Are We? Needs, Longings, and the Image of God in Man,” The Journal of Biblical Counseling 13:1 (Fall 1994), 25-38.

4. Lane and Tripp, How People Change, 20.

5. Ibid., 20.

6. For more, see Lane and Tripp, How People Change and Tim Chester, You Can Change: God’s Transforming Power for Our Sinful Behavior and Negative Emotions (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2010) and James K.A. Smith, You Are What You Love: The Spiritual Power of Habit (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos, 2016).

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Grayson Walker teaches American history at Casady School in Oklahoma City. Prior to teaching, Grayson worked for Cru and Providence Church in Austin, Texas. You can follow him on Twitter @graysonpwalker.

The Resurrection Seed

This article is excerpted from our latest release A Guide for Holy Week: The Last Days of King Jesus. Get your copy today!

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The events of holy week were a roller coaster ending in a terrifying dip into darkness. The Savior was killed. He was buried by Joseph of Arimathea in his own tomb.

His followers were dejected, but even in the midst of this hopeless there was a seed of hope. It lay dormant for three days, but it sprout soon enough.

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her. – John 20:11-18 (see also Matt. 28:1-10, Mk. 16:1-8, Lk. 24:1-12)

The Apostle John shares a story of mistaken identity. Mary and other women arrive at Jesus’s tomb on the morning of his resurrection. The synoptics recall the women conversing among themselves to the effect of “Who’s going to roll the stone away?” But when they get there, the stone is already rolled back and as one might expect they are afraid and confused. Now the synoptics and John’s gospel report that the women went into the tomb and an angel reports Jesus’s resurrection. John then fills in the story with additional details.

The women leave and tell the disciples about the empty tomb. Mary Magdalene returns with the disciples who see the empty tomb, and as the men are leaving, she stays and weeps outside the tomb. Jesus (unknown to her) approaches her, “‘Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?’” As is often the case after the resurrection, Jesus is unrecognized in his risen state. She replies, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” What I love is his simple reply to her. Jesus says, “Mary” and immediately she knows. He’s her Lord. This scene is so intimate. You can sense the care Jesus has for Mary.

Part of what makes this passage compelling is Mary’s mistaking Jesus when we all know it’s him. Even though the section is short, I always find myself screaming, “It’s him Mary! He’s alive!” John tells us she thinks he’s the gardener. She’s wrong in a way, but in another way she’s profoundly right.

God places Adam and Even in the garden to tend it. They failed. Sin enters the world. Time passes. Lots of time. Humankind fails miserably at pleasing God. We constantly screw things up, but the promise (Gen. 3:15). The Seed would come!

Jesus finally does arrives and enters the Garden Tomb. He crushes the serpent’s head, not before the serpent bites his heel and Jesus dies. It’s a death blow for both. However, Jesus doesn’t stay dead. While the writhing serpent will still cause chaos until his final breath, the King, a man named Jesus, now sits on the throne of his Father in heaven. And at the end of all things, God’s temple, an eschatological temple-garden, will arrive and all things will be made new--including us.

How is all of this good news for us this season of holy week?

Jesus is the the eschatological Gardener. He plants our bodies into the ground and one day those resurrection seeds will grow into a tall a tree. Paul reminds the Corinthians of this truth,

But someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?” You foolish person! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And what you sow is not the body that is to be, but a bare kernel, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body. For not all flesh is the same, but there is one kind for humans, another for animals, another for birds, and another for fish. – 1 Corinthians 15:35-38

Our bodies are seeds. We will die and be planted. We will rise up—just like Jesus, the first fruit of the resurrection. So as we meditate on the death and resurrection of Jesus this week, fear not saints. He did rise, and we will rise with him. We are the resurrection seed and he is the gardener.

One with the Father, Ancient of Days, Through the Spirit who clothes faith with certainty. Honor and blessing, glory and praise To the King crowned with pow'r and authority! And we are raised with Him, Death is dead, love has won, Christ has conquered; And we shall reign with Him, For He lives: Christ is risen from the dead! – “See What a Morning (Resurrection Hymn)”

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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!

New Book Release | A Guide for Holy Week: The Last Days of King Jesus

Today, we release the newest book from GCD Books A Guide for Holy Week: The Last Days of King Jesus—which is a compilation effort from our writing team as well as some of our favorite freelance contributors. Here’s a description of the book:

Between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, the drama of redemption unfolds in a powerful way. For centuries, Christians have meditated through the duration of Holy Week on the suffering and passion of Jesus. Each reflection generates a sense of wonder at both the person who suffered and the meaning of his suffering. From the midst of Jesus’s crucifixion is encapsulated powerful statements that unfold the mystery of his nature and suffering.

Walk with us through the Holy Week and reflect on the work of grace that Jesus brought about through his life, death, and resurrection. This collection of essays, Scripture meditations, and songs will serve you during Holy Week as you seek to grow as a disciple of Jesus.

We’re also offering a giveaway! Purchase a paperback or digital copy of Jonathan K. Dodson and Brad Watson’s Raised? Finding Jesus by Doubting the Resurrection and email info@gospelcentereddiscipleship.com proof of purchase, and we will send you a FREE digital copy of A Guide for Holy Week.

You can buy a digital copy for $4.99 or a paperback copy for $8.99. Here’s an excerpt from the introduction by Joshua Torrey. We’ll have another full excerpt Thursday!

Mathew B. Sims, Managing Editor

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My wife and I recently celebrated the birth of our fourth child. The arrival of our third girl was marked with extra joy as my place of employment recently extended the policy on Paternity Leave from 14 days to 30 days. The children had dad in the home for thirty-two straight days.

In spite of this nice treat, I missed one thing about work—returning home to thundering applause. All right, so maybe it isn’t always thundering, but it’s usually noticeably loud. Most of my children stop in the middle of their tasks and express some form of welcome. The two-year-old rushes to the door shouting daddy”demanding I pick her up even when my hands are full.

Like my own children when I arrive home, Jerusalem erupts in thunderous worship when Jesus enters. Christ’s Triumphant Entry into Jerusalem is a story most Christians know. During Palm Sunday, a lot of churches have their children involved in some rendition of palm leaf waving in church. But much like my arrival home from work is for my older (more distracted) children, many Christians treat the story of Jesus entering Jerusalem as the reigning King like it’s boring. Yet, if we stop, this event which kicks off holy week is an exciting story. Let’s revel in Christ to get a glimpse of that.

Christ’s Kingship and House

I am not an animal person. I can handle dogs and cats but that’s my limit. While the idea of farming and being among wildlife is mentally enticing, I know it is not a viable reality—I’m a city boy. So the idea of Christ requesting an obnoxious donkey always makes me laugh a little. And yet, “The Lord needs” it to fulfill Scripture (Matt. 21:5). Jesus rides into Jerusalem to thunderous applause as the reigning King of Israel,

This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying,

“Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and he sat on them. Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.” – Matthew 21:4-11

Christ does not become King when he ascends to Heaven. He does not become King when he is raised from the dead. The “holy week” leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion is something akin to a kingly inauguration. The Virgin Mary carried Christ into the “city of David” (Lk. 2:4). The donkey carried Christ into the city of King David (2 Sam. 5:9). The people’s praise reflects this truth. The praise for their King comes from Psalms 118 as they acknowledge the “Son of David.” Imagine the raucous nature of this event. How uncivilized and esoteric the expression must have been to leave the entire city wondering who this Jesus Christ was! Like my children when I return home, the children of Jerusalem could not help but scream and shout “Hosanna to the Son of David!” (Matt. 21:15).

Yet, for all the expressions of joy and excitement, this King did not have a place to “lay his head” (Matt. 8:20). He did not have a palace within Jerusalem. He had no throne to ascend. In fact, the narrative indicates that Jesus leaves the city every evening to find shelter (Matt. 21:17-18). So where does the King go upon his triumphal entry? Here, Jesus turns the kingship motif in a divinely messianic direction. The King returns to the temple and calls it “My house” (Matt. 21:12-13). Psalm 118 echoes that this too was a fulfillment of Scripture,

Save us, we pray, O Lord! O Lord, we pray, give us success! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! We bless you from the house of the Lord. – Psalm 118:2-26 The King’s entry into his city is not complete until he takes his people into the “house of the Lord”—the very house that has been turned into a “den of robbers” (Matt. 21:13). Who resides in the house of the Lord?

The Occupants of the Lord’s House

When I’m smothered upon entering my home after work, it takes an act of Herculean strength to set down bags and food containers while picking up children. With children in tow, I visit the restroom and the fridge for a beer. Eventually, as the king of my castle, I collapse onto the couch. Or if I am being good, I get to work in the kitchen.

As King, Christ gets right to work in his house. One can imagine the confusion of the Temple occupants as Jesus rifles through tossed tables and chairs. “Money-changers” were taking advantage of people in Jerusalem for the feast. Christ cleans his house of these “robbers” and makes space for the his people. And the “wonderful things” that Christ did was to allow the blind, lame, and young into the temple with him,

And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.”

And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant – Matthew 21:12-15

The people the King brings into his house are the rejected and outcast. In this regard, Christ reflects the mercy of King David who brought Jonathan’s crippled son Mephibosheth to his house and table (2 Sam. 9). The King of Israel, in lieu of his pending crucifixion, brings the young and the broken into his house (Matt. 21:14-16). These events set the stage for holy week and result in the plot to kill Jesus (Matt. 26:1-5).

And doesn’t Jesus do this still today? As we celebrate the Passion of our Savior, are we not reminded that the joyous entry into Jerusalem still pales in comparison to the triumphant procession that awaits us all in the final resurrection? Christ would tell multiple parables about the people who would reside in his house. And these parables, though originally about Jews, apply to us today. We are the people on the roadside in Christ’s parable of the wedding feast (Matt. 22:8-10). Or more pertinently, we are those who reject God (Matt. 21:29) only to be found the obedient son due to the King’s mercy and grace (Matt. 21:28-32; 43-44). So what kind of obedience does our King demand?

Obedience Fit for The King

What does discipleship under the reigning King look like? Thankfully the events of holy week illuminate our path. An underdeveloped event of holy week is the testing of Christ on paying taxes. Most individuals use this passage to communicate some type of political statement, but our Lord used it as a decisively non-political teaching moment,

Then the Pharisees went and plotted how to entangle him in his words. And they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are true and teach the way of God truthfully, and you do not care about anyone's opinion, for you are not swayed by appearances. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why put me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. And Jesus said to them, “Whose likeness and inscription is this?” They said, “Caesar's.” Then he said to them, “Therefore render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's.” When they heard it, they marveled. And they left him and went away. – Matthew 22:15-22

The Pharisees enter this scene infuriated with Jesus. They have been upset since his entry into the city and are now looking to get a political conviction out of him. But in the middle of this curious question about politics and taxes, Jesus Christ makes a statement about rendering obedience to the true King. Christ’s answer to render taxes unto Caesar is based upon the coins bearing his image. If it bears the image, it is owed to that ruler. Christ’s insight is that men are made in God’s image (Gen. 1:26). Render your money to the local authority, but render your allegiance and obedience to your God. It is on the heels of this indictment that obedience is owed to our True King that Jesus condemns the religious “obedience” of the Pharisees (Matt. 23:1-36).

Over the course of Christ’s final week, the Pharisees prove that they do not understand how they bear the image of God and owe obedience to Christ. Further, in a moment of profound irony, they offer Christ the ultimate image bearer to Caesar (Col. 1:15). All of this convoluted rejection of Jesus is set in contrast to the final anointing of Christ. The Gospel of Matthew places the Pharisees’ decision to kill Jesus right alongside the anointing of Christ for his death (Matt. 26:1-13),

Now when Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he reclined at table. And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, “Why this waste? For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor.” But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial. Truly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her.” – Matthew 26:6-13

Much like Christ’s triumphal entry, the story of Christ’s anointing often loses its impact to our religious ears. Yet, our Lord says that wherever the “gospel is proclaimed” so also this act by this woman will be remembered. In contrast to the Pharisees plotting to kill Jesus, this woman anoints him for death. In contrast to the Pharisees rejecting the broken and weary, this woman humbles herself to anoint a soon-to-be-dead-man. Even the disciples of Jesus are unable to see that she has sought the greater gift of her King’s impending death.

Holy week teaches that obedience fit for our King ust revel in his death. We are to celebrate his triumphal entry into heaven. We are to celebrate his conquest of death. And all of this is done by the simple means of the Lord’s Supper. Christian discipleship in holy week focuses on the death, burial, and resurrection of the King. It is to proclaim “Hosanna in the highest” and his resurrection every Sunday in corporate worship.

And when we do this each Sunday, we are waiting for the final return of Jesus Christ. Then we, not unlike my small children, will rejoice and be glad at the return of their King. We will shout and laugh. We will joyously run to our King because our obedience is found by resting in him.

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Joshua Torrey is a computer chip designer and editor of Torrey Gazette. He lives with his wife Alaina and their children (Kenzie, Judah, Olivia, and Cora) in Austin, Texas. Together they serve their local body—Redeemer Presbyterian Church. He authored The Lord's Prayer: A Family Devotion and edited John Calvin's Geneva Catechism and contributed to GCD Books’s An Advent Guide and A Guide for Holy Week.

All You Have to Offer

The weight of disappointment was so heavy my knees almost collapsed. My feet wearily stumbled down the steps on the side of the stage. My eyes burned with tears, and I couldn’t shake the image of the young blonde girl in the front row, just looking up at me with confusion. Her confusion communicated more to me than words could. Confusion. That’s what I offered her. I had heard of people blowing opportunities, being embarrassed by what they said on stage, or fumbling over their words. It wasn’t just that I was embarrassed, it was that I had one chance to authentically lead these students towards worship, and instead I used it as a platform. On the way up that stage, each step was a question of what I could offer them.

“Will I be relatable?”

“What’s a captivating story?”

“How can I add humor to this piece?”

Marketing Me

I needed to manipulate my stories enough to make them fit. If only I could manufacture some laughter, then maybe they’d like me enough to listen. My attention was on my heart, my stories, and my wisdom. I bought the lie that if I marketed myself just right, then I would make an impact. I was tricked into believing that I had more to offer than Jesus. Instead of him, my audience got confusion. That’s what I left them with.

“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” – John 15: 4

We don’t reject God, but we do forget him. We forget that he can use us in supernaturally powerful ways, so we settle. We settle for what we’ve always done, or what we have always seen. I don’t know what it looks like for you to abide, but crazy awesome things happen in ministry when we do. It’s easier for people to abide during their quiet time, then during ministry. For some reason, we feel like it’s too risky to offer all that God gives us. When we prepare, we think of the message we need to give and withhold the one we need to receive. We don’t let God speak into the moment. That’s what I did, and it’s what I’ll never do again.

Offer Them Your Own Intimacy with God

I looked up from my feet just high enough to see my friends gathered around a table at the back of the dark auditorium. My heart grieved as it sent shameful pulses throughout my body. My thoughts considered the circumstances, as I longed to walk past them, through the auditorium, and out the back doors of the church. The mere thought of looking into their faces after what I just did sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

Could I walk home?

Would that make things worse?

The darkness around me helped, it comforted me like a blanket in my shame and disappointment. The bright fluorescent church lights were too much, as long as I stayed away from them I’d be okay. Maybe if I really did kneel down I could forget her confused face, surely that would help. My boyfriend speaks at things like this far more often that I do, and he knew me well enough to recognize my shame. His hand touched my head as he pulled me into an embrace. I couldn’t look at him, but he took me outside and onto a big couch in the foyer. As he told me a story about the first time he bombed an opportunity like this, he explained the same regret that I was feeling. The piece that was more than just embarrassment, but an authentic aching for what I failed to give. He explained this quote, passed down from generations of pastors far wiser than us, and said “All you have to offer them is your own intimacy with God.”

That’s it. That’s what I failed to give, and it’s what I failed to prepare with. I didn’t prepare my heart for intimacy with God. My attention was on the stories that would connect with these students, not with the Spirit that could connect with these students. I didn’t consider the God closest to my heart, but settled for the words I wanted to sell. When I tried to manufacture impact, I gave and received confusion. I can’t settle to offer to other people anything less than the intimacy that God has offered to me.

The good news is that God doesn’t see me as a failure. He isn’t disappointed or ashamed of me. He is patient and gracious in my shortcoming, which reminds me that Jesus is the only One who carries the mantle of perfection. He gently reminds me that faithfulness is enough. This faithfulness is a raw, unfiltered, unrelenting belief that Jesus is worthy.

The Church is Not the Marketplace

There is a biblical story that resonates in my own. A story of people who believed they had the right to sell offerings in God’s Church. People who wanted to market their craft for many people, and manufacture offerings acceptable to God.

In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. – John 2:14

He said to them, "The Scriptures declare, 'My Temple will be called a house of prayer,' but you have turned it into a den of thieves!" – Matthew 21:13

His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” – John 2:17

We are deceived when we believe we can do anything without the power of the Holy Spirit. We have to stop believing we can pull anything across the line, because Jesus can and will flip some tables if we begin to manufacture stuff in the house of God.

The temple is a place of offering, not bartering. A place of worship, not a place of market. How would our ministry change if we were consumed with zeal for the Lord? How would the way that we disciple, communicate, teach, write, and counsel be transformed? Manipulative stories, lofty knowledge, judgemental bias, and counterfeit emotion are not acceptable.

These offerings will be thrown out, overturned, and confused. God only wants our heart, and if we can genuinely offer him that, then I think people notice a difference in us. People are more likely to follow a leader who is authentically surrendered, then a leader who is perfect. We settle for ourselves when we barter for good stories and catchy phrases. We transform lives when we offer God’s intimate Word.

I won’t forget the palpable look of confusion on the young girl's face. I think about it often before I speak, not because I need to feel shame, but because it reminds me of what I have to offer. By myself, I leave people confused. If I offer the intimacy of God’s powerful Spirit, then I have the grace to transform people’s paradigms, beliefs, and lives.

I believe that Jesus is raising an authentic generation who desire authentic intimacy with God. I believe that if we’re faithful to disciple people with the authentic intimacy of God, we will see a growth of healthy disciple makers. Ask yourself these questions,

• Are you leading your family, your church, your ministry in this way?
• What kind of leverage do you have to share your intimacy with God?
• How can you let your heart be what you offer in discipleship?
• How can your intimacy lead others to greater intimacy with the Lord?

—

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.

Two Shall Become One—Now and Not Yet

“Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.”

Over the years, I’ve had the joy of officiating a number of wedding ceremonies where we celebrate two people committing to the journey of oneness. Often during the ceremony, I will read, or refer, to the passage above from Genesis. Then, usually towards the end of the ceremony, I have the privilege of pronouncing a new identity over the couple. No longer are they two individuals, but one. In that moment there is a new, present reality for them.

NOW OR NOT YET?

However, recently the language God uses in Genesis struck me; “They shall become one flesh.” It sounds more like a promise than a pronouncement. The two shall become one. Not, the two are now one. The oneness here that God speaks of seems like a future to be realized, more than a present reality.

In an honest moment, this feels like my journey in marriage too. My wife and I have been married for almost 12 years, and we have not arrived at oneness yet. I don’t believe it took very long after our wedding ceremony for us to realize that although we had been pronounced one we didn’t feel or live out oneness very well.

NOW AND NOT YET?

So, which is it? Once married, are two souls one? Or, in the journey of marriage do two souls progressively become one? Yes. Both.

When I graduated college with a degree in accounting, was I an accountant? In some ways, yes; and in many ways, not yet. When I was ordained in ministry, was I a pastor? In some sense yes; and in many ways, I still had a lot to learn. When I was pronounced married, was I a husband united to my wife? Yes, and yet there was a journey of cultivating oneness ahead of us.

COVENANT TO CULTIVATE

When we think of cultivating in the agricultural sense, we think of creating an environment suitable for the growth of something; we think of caring for something so that it can flourish. Do we think of cultivating oneness in our marriage so that two people can flourish?

What my wife and I have realized in our twelve short years of journeying together is that our marriage covenant is a commitment to cultivating oneness between us. One of the main aims of our love and marriage is oneness.

And that journey has been hard, yet good. It has been challenging and rewarding. It has been a journey filled with joy and sadness; fear and love. Now we are more in love and closer to oneness than we’ve ever been. How have we arrived here?

CULTIVATING ONENESS

Perhaps it is helpful to offer two things that we have found beneficial. One is a bigger, annual event; and the other is an everyday journey. But the thought here is that oneness is something that we need to continually cultivate. Oneness doesn’t happen without work.

– Annual Retreat

From the beginning, we have taken two to three days every year to retreat, to get away from the regular rhythms of life so we can assess how we are doing as husband and wife. This time allows us to re-engage the daily rigors of marriage afresh. With children, we’ve realized how critical this intentional time is for us. Yes, it is hard to make the time. But, without a retreat, we would either remain stagnant in our journey, or we would drift apart. To cultivate oneness between two people, we need intentionality.

We’ve helped coach numerous couples through installing this time in their marriages. The important thing is to make this a priority and begin. The idea of retreating is more daunting than actually retreating. We spend time on each of these retreats relaxing, enjoying each other, and also having honest conversations about our marriage.

– Regular Confession and Forgiveness

I am reticent to write this because I don’t want to imply or give the impression that we do this daily, or do this well. We have struggled our way through this. We still do. Times of honest confession, matched with forgiveness are turbulent waters for us. At the same time, I am not sure there has been anything in our marriage that has brought us closer together than when we confess to each other and forgive one another.

The journey of oneness is really hard. Marriage is the union of two broken people, who are called to bear one another’s burdens.

Genesis tells us the fruit of two becoming one is that both can be naked and unashamed in the presence of the other. Nakedness—physically, spiritually and emotionally—all without shame. I don’t know about you, but this is not natural for us. Being naked and unashamed before the other, or truly being known, by each other is fraught with fear and shame. If my wife really knows who I am, how I feel, and what I think—certainly, she will reject me. Right? Far too often, we paralyze ourselves by listening to this voice. And the more we listen to it, the more we allow fear to cultivate isolation.

The greater voice that we must hear is one that reinforces our commitment to love. Love is greater than fear. Our marriage covenant to each other is a commitment to forgive one another. Forgiveness cultivates oneness because it cultivates a safe place to be vulnerable. Forgiveness replaces the fear of rejection with the security of acceptance. As spouses, are we cultivating an environment that encourages us to confess to one another because of our willingness to forgive one another?

Often forgiveness is hard. It takes time. Our willingness or ability to forgive each other is rooted ultimately in the faith that Christ has already forgiven us. My role as a husband to my wife is not to withhold forgiveness, but to point her to the forgiveness Christ has already secured for her. Likewise, when my wife, who knows my brokenness more acutely and intimately than anyone else, forgives me—the truth of Christ’s forgiveness gets pushed into the depths of my soul even more.

One of the greatest roles we play as a spouse is the role of reminding each other of Christ’s forgiveness through the act of offering our forgiveness.

Forgiveness points us to Christ and cultivates security, safety, love, and oneness between us. It begins to remove fear from one of our greatest longings—to be really known by another person.

THE SECRET SAUCE

Why is this journey so hard? Why is this so difficult for us? I think because we cling to our individual lives. Self-preservation too often motivates us more than self-denial.

The secret sauce to becoming one is death. Sacrificial death. It is dying to one’s self for the sake of the other. To arrive at oneness with our spouses requires each of us to die to our former, individual selves.

NOW AND NOT YET

This is why the phrase “two shall become one” is beautiful. Yes, it is a present reality. This new identity is the foundation of our marriage covenant that keeps us grounded. Here we remain steadfast when the going gets tough. And some days, this reality and truth must trump our feelings.

At the same time, the phrase calls us to a life of cultivating oneness. It points to the promise of a future reality that compels us to keep laying down our life for the other’s sake. In so doing, we have found we flourish. We don’t lose our love for each other, but we deepen our love. We find it safer and more secure. We move closer to oneness.

—

Paul Gordon has been following Jesus in faith for about 25 years. He’s been married to Nicole for 11 years and he has one daughter and one son. He has been serving in pastoral ministry since 2009 after he completed the pastoral development process at Terra Nova. Paul is now transitioning to being the Lead Church Planter for Terra Nova Berkshires and the Executive Pastor for the Terra Nova Network.

An Honest Confession of a Contrite Heart

I have a confession to make: I love me. Out of this fixation of self flows a daily desire to build, fight, protect, and expand my own kingdom. I love me and my kingdom. It’s simply the natural inclination of my heart. I see it in my politics. I observe it in my desire to manipulate people to do stuff I want them to do in the name of serving Jesus. I feel it when, in false humility, I reject compliments for a well-written blog, a nugget of wisdom I may have dropped during a conversation, or preached a sermon that may have resonated gospel rhythms in the heart of the very individual paying me said compliment. Every day and in every possible way, my heart is hard at work trying to convince me that I am, well, awesome. It is in this space of self-deception that sin does its finest work in me. And without fail, whenever I choose my own kingdom, I am always left empty and wanting. In perhaps one of the greatest sermons ever preached, The Expulsive Power of a New Affection, Thomas Chalmers surmised that there must be a greater love, a greater affection placed in the regenerate heart that usurps the rule and reign of all lesser loves. Chalmers attested:

It is then, that a love paramount to the love of the world, and at length expulsive of it, first arises in the regenerated bosom. It is when released from the spirit of bondage with which love cannot dwell, and when admitted into the number of God’s children through the faith that is in Christ Jesus, the spirit of adoption is poured upon us—it is then that the heart, brought under the mastery of one great and predominant affection, is delivered from the tyranny of its former desires, in the only way in which deliverance is possible. And that faith which is revealed to us from heaven, as indispensable to a sinner’s justification in the sight of God, is also the instrument of the greatest of all moral and spiritual achievements on a nature dead to the influence, and beyond the reach of every other application.

You see, if I am uncomfortably transparent with you, I must confess that my heart is a tyrant in need of a new affection placed in it daily. Frankly, so is yours. Our desires must come under the rule and reign of a greater love, a love that dethrones all others, with self above all being dealt the final death blow.

As I have journeyed towards the daily discipline of dying to self, I have found that the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6.9-13 plays a crucial role in properly orienting my affections godward. As it has served me well, I extend the invitation to you to pray with me in the same way.

OUR FATHER, WHO IS IN HEAVEN (Matthew 6.9a)

I confess to you, Father, today I do not believe you are my Father. I am fully aware that you are Father to the hurting, to the broken, and to those who you have freed through the work of Jesus to love you.

It is available to everyone you have freed, and it is available in abundance. You have freed me, but I do not feel free. I feel trapped by my own sin. I feel unlovable. And I feel as though I do not love you. I know these things aren’t true, but they feel true. I feel the weight of it today.

Would you help my unbelief? Would you help me to understand that you are my Father and you love me right now? Father, overwhelm me with the love I first felt when the gospel was the best news I had ever heard.

HALLOWED BE YOUR NAME (Matthew 6.9b)

Father, only you make your name holy. You do not need me to do that. I need you to do that on my behalf. If holiness isn’t your nature and you are not about the business of making your name revered, then Jesus died in my place for nothing. I’ll never be holy without the work and the person of Jesus.

I cannot work enough to please you. It’s a fool’s errand I run every day. And it has left me wanting. I confess that my most sacred moments are riddled with my own sins of lust, power, need for approval, and pride. And my pride tries to convince me daily that I can achieve holiness apart from the finished work of Jesus. I am not holy. I am the furthest thing from it.

Today, I need the good news that Jesus took my sin and clothed me in all of his righteousness. Without Jesus’s intervention, I will never see you, Father. And if I never see you, I’ll always be self-deceived. Oh, make my heart believe!

YOUR KINGDOM COME, YOUR WILL BE DONE ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN (Matthew 6.10)

Father, I confess that I say I want your kingdom. Truth is, I want my kingdom. I want it every day. It burns inside me. I want, I want, I want, I want, I want…. I want all the advantages and benefits of the rule and reign of your heavenly kingdom here on earth, but I want to be king.

Yet, my heart is often foolish, always steeped in its own selfish ambition, greed, and lust for control. My heart craves it. And it isn’t good news—not for me, not for those who love me, and it is utterly damning news for those I say I love. I’m a crummy king. I repent.

Jesus, give me the faith to believe that your kindly rule has dealt the death blow to the curse of sin's tyrannical kingdom that is prone to rule my wondering heart.

GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD, AND FORGIVE US OUR DEBTS AS WE ALSO HAVE FORGIVEN OUR DEBTORS (Matthew 6.11-12)

It is my sin that causes me to perish. I glut myself on so many different sources of bread that aren’t life giving. I eat my fill of death. Only you give life Father through Jesus. Forgive me for seeking satisfaction in everything else but you.

The sin debt I owed with my life is the sin debt Jesus paid with his life. Through the person and work with Jesus, by the regenerating power of Holy Spirit, I have been united with you in death and in life. You have clothed me with the very same dignity and honor that I have so longed to thieve, doing so without restraint.

Father, change my heart towards other glory thieves. Grant me the compassion to invite those who have sinned against me to the same table of mercy that you have extended to me in your gospel. It is our only hope for you are the gospel and in it, you give us what we truly need: All of yourself.

Let us, smiling sinners who have been forgiven of so much, glut ourselves on the Living Bread—the very finished work of Jesus on our behalf.

AND LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION, BUT DELIVER US FROM EVIL (THE EVIL ONE) (Matthew 6.13)

Father, one of the greatest sins of my heart is my quick protest when convicted of sin that the enemy forced my hand. If I am being honest, I was undone before I engaged. I confess that there is darkness in my heart, a darkness that longs for my kingdom. I beg you not to lead me into the temptation of believing my kingdom is better.

Rather, protect me from the craftiness of the evil one who is desperately trying to convince me that I am okay. Deliver me from myself, oh God. Free me through believing and resting in the finished work of Jesus on my behalf.

A so very amen in the precious, beautiful, wonderful and gracious name of the one true King, Jesus.

—

Scott Fitzgerald Scott Fitzgerald is the Executive Pastor of Metro Church of Northwest Arkansas. He is currently pursuing his MDiv at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and blogs at thethrillofhope.com.

God Saves Sinners

“God saves sinners.” That’s the truest sentence I know. I believe it’s the truest sentence in all the world. And that’s really, really good news for a sinner like me.

Someone recently asked what I thought I’d be doing now, at thirty, if Jesus hadn’t saved me. That’s easy, whatever (old Whitney would add “the hell”) I wanted. Even if it meant my own destruction.

You see, before Christ, I was your classic “sinner” type. I was young, wild, and worldly in every sense of the term. I lived for myself and for the moment. Everything I did served those two ends. By seventh grade, I was getting drunk in the backyard on cheap vodka and Kool-Aid. By eighth, I was messing around with guys in the back seat of their cars. By ninth, well, I was just getting started. As each year passed I threw off more and more inhibitions to discover new paths of pleasure.

In theological terms, I was a sinner. Of course, mentored by MTV’s The Real World and the magazine Cosmopolitan, I didn’t know that. But it was true. I was dead in my sins, I was following the course of the world, I was living in the passions of my flesh, and I was carrying out the desires of my body and mind (Eph. 2:1-3). What I thought was the path of life (i.e., living for myself) was actually the road to death. I was on a fast track to destroying my life and didn’t even know it.

But then the wildest thing happened, God saved me—MTV-watching, mini-skirt wearing, boy-crazed, foul-mouthed me. To this day, I’m shocked as I think back on my salvation experience.

The Scope of His Salvation

One day my cousin, a youth pastor at the time, showed up on my doorstep as if out of thin air. He inserted himself into my life, relentlessly telling me about how God saves sinners through Jesus. He picked me up for church on Wednesday’s and Sunday’s and talked to me about Jesus as we listened to Relient K.

At the same time, what I valued most was stripped from me. I made a mess of my relationships through lots of sin. I became disenchanted with the perpetual pursuit of beauty. My hedonistic activities stopped delivering on their promises. I felt empty. Bottomlessly empty. When I sinned to get that quick pleasure, I actually felt worse. It was miserable! For the first time in my life, I wasn’t enjoying sin.

Not only was I not enjoying my sin as I had before, I started to realize that I was a sinner, both by nature and by choice. And it bothered me. I felt guilty. The gospel messages I heard at the time told me that apart from Jesus’s work I was condemned before God. My inner conscious confirmed that this was true. It’s like I saw this big gap between me, the shallow, self-absorbed sinner and God, the perfect, righteous Judge of all the earth. There was nothing I could do to bridge the gap and I knew it. I was definitely a sinner and my sin separated me from God.

But 1 Timothy 1:15 says, “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.” Oh, how those words pierced my soul. Indeed, I was a sinner, but it turns out that Jesus Christ came to save people just like me—sinners. He saves whores and addicts, he saves old people and young people, he saves black people and white people, he saves broken people and abused people, he saves shallow people and prideful people, and he saves rich people and poor people.

But how could this be true?!

The Power of Jesus’s Blood

It’s true because Jesus came and lived the perfect life that sinners couldn’t live then died the death that sinners deserved to die. On the cross, he substituted himself in the place of sinners and poured out his blood as an atoning sacrifice for sin. God accepted this payment for sin and raised Jesus to life on the third day proving that his work was sufficient. When sinners look to Jesus and his work, they are forgiven. His precious blood has the power to cleanse them from all sin and shame.

That summer I learned that there was power in the blood of Jesus. Power to save me from Satan, sin, and death. Power even to save me from myself! The words of the apostle John, “the blood of Jesus his [God’s] Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 Jn. 1:7) seemed too good to be true. And yet, it was true. Not because I deserved to be saved, but because the merciful, gracious God delights to save sinners through the blood of Jesus.

This lavish grace overwhelmed me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to give into the powerful conviction of God’s Spirit. It didn’t matter if I had to change my life or leave my sin. I had to be close to Jesus! I responded to the gospel in faith and repentance. I turned away from my sin and self and turned to God by trusting in Jesus’ work and was baptized in my local church.

There were a lot of up’s and down’s but, somewhere along the way, God saved me that summer. He gave me a new heart and a new life and a new story. And now I know…that I know…that I know God saves sinners. It’s the truest truth in all the world.

The Truest Truth 

What’s the truest sentence you believe, the one you think to be true? The one that undergirds and defines your life? Take a few minutes and think through your story. How would you sum up what you believe most in one sentence?

I have to ask, do you know it to be true? Are you 100 percent positive that it is the truest truth in all the world?

It’s quite unfashionable today for anyone to act as though they have the market on truth, but much like my cousin inserting himself into my life to share God’s truth with me, I’m going to (with much humility and trepidation!) insert myself into yours and offer you the truest truth— “God saves sinners.” He really does. Through Jesus, God can save the dirtiest of sinners.

That’s why I shared my story. If he can save me, he can save anyone. I don’t enjoy airing before the world the embarrassing, shameful things I did, but I do enjoy sharing Jesus and his salvation. Christ Jesus really did “come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost” (1 Tim. 1:15). The sentence, “God saves sinners” is as real and true to me as the air I breathe. I know it to be true because it is God’s truth, the final and authoritative truth.

And I want you to know it too. If you are staring at that monstrous gap like I was, wondering how in the world you could ever make your way to God because of your sin, you need to know that God has made a way for you through Jesus. The apostle Paul declares that, “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8).

Oh, how I want you to know that! To know that there is power in the blood of Jesus to save you and cleanse you from all of your sin and shame. There is power to give you a new heart, a new life, and a new start. All who call upon the name of the Lord Jesus will be saved. And isn’t that really good news for sinners like you and me?

The Way Forward  

If you have never looked to Jesus in repentance and faith, I pray that you will consider the sentence, “God saves sinners.” Think on it. Ask friends or family about it. Find a local church and listen to what they have to say about it. Read more articles about it. Better yet, open up the Gospel of John in the Bible and read all about it. Pray and ask God to reveal the truth to you. If this is true, then ask him to help you believe it.

If you are a Christian, I pray that you will continue to share the gospel with people who don’t know it. I often think about how my cousin was loving enough to confront me with the truth. Let’s be loving enough to share God’s truth with others. Be bold knowing that God’s Spirit is at work in people’s lives, just like he was mine, preparing them to receive the word of truth. It is his work that brings them to saving faith. You just get to share the good news, so share it boldly!

If you don’t know where to start, share your story with them. Tell people how Jesus saved you. Talk about how loving and merciful God is. You could even send this article and ask to talk about it afterwards. Ask what they think about the sentence, “God saves sinners” and dialogue about it. Most of all, always share that there is hope for all who will repent of sin and look to Jesus because God saves sinners.

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Whitney Woollard is passionate about equipping others to read and study God’s Word well resulting maturing affection for Christ and his glorious gospel message. She holds a Bachelors of Science in Biblical Studies from Moody Bible Institute and a Masters of Arts in Biblical and Theological Studies from Western Seminary. Whitney and her husband Neal currently live in Portland, OR where they call Hinson Baptist Church home. Visit her writing homepage whitneywoollard.com.