Gospel-Centered or Pharisaical? Five Evaluation Questions

Last year, my family and I enjoyed some vacation time at the beach. After finding a place to put our towels, my oldest son and I jumped into the ocean to go body surfing. Fifteen minutes later, I looked up to find my wife—but nothing on the beach looked familiar. I thought I was still directly in front of her but, without realizing it, I had drifted a few hundred yards. The gradual pull of the ocean can be so subtle that it's hard to notice you're drifting further away.

Likewise, for the believer who desires to be gospel-centered, the drift toward becoming more Pharisaical is also so subtle we might not even notice it.

THE PHARISAICAL PULL

Nobody wants to be a Pharisee, yet our flesh seems naturally bent in that direction. The good news of the gospel seems too easy for our works-based, achievement-driven hearts. We know Christ achieved it all, but we still want to contribute. Even while we proclaim the gospel of grace, we fight the intense pull toward self-righteousness.

Jesus was explicit in his rebukes against the Pharisee. He welcomed the repentant sinner with grace and mercy, but offered sharp critiques to those who had supposedly achieved righteousness. Even as I read the "woes" to the Pharisees in Matthew 23, I find myself thanking God I'm not like them . . . thus revealing I'm closer than I think.

My father-in-law, a former surfer, informed me that when playing in the ocean it's important to find a "point of reference"—a large, stationary object on the beach, like a lifeguard stand, unique landscape, etc. As you are enjoying the waves, you must continually look back to your point of reference and re-adjust yourself. Constant checks and re-adjustments keep you from drifting too far without realizing it.

For believers, the gospel is our point of reference. We continue to behold the beauty of the gospel and live under its truths. As we seek to live this kind of gospel-centered life, we must be aware of the drift towards a Pharisaical mindset and be ready to evaluate our hearts.

Here are five evaluation questions to ask ourselves to point us back to the gospel and keep us from drifting.

WHERE DO YOU FIND YOUR RIGHTEOUSNESS?

In Luke 18:9-14, Jesus tells a story to those who "trusted in themselves that they were righteous." Two men went to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee who thanked God that he wasn't like the sinners, and then he went on to point out all the good he had done. The other man was a tax collector who wouldn't even look up to heaven, but simply prayed "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"

Only one of those men went home justified before the Lord. The Pharisee was looking at his own good works to establish his righteousness and standing before God. Truly understanding our sinfulness and God's holiness is incompatible with this type of self-righteousness. The tax collector recognized his sin and pleaded for mercy.

We also see that self-righteousness leads to treating others with contempt, judging others, and considering yourself better than others because you think you have accomplished something they haven't. In the Pharisee's mind, he's been good enough. Why can't other people get their act together?

Gospel reminder: The gospel teaches that believers are righteous, but it is an alien righteousness. We've been made new by a righteousness outside of ourselves, the very righteousness of Christ. Therefore, a true believer has no reason to boast except in Christ and him crucified. Any goodness we see in our life is the result of a changed heart and indwelling Holy Spirit, to which all glory belongs to God.

WHY DO YOU DO GOOD WORKS?

The Pharisees did good works, but only to be seen by men. In Matthew 23, Jesus says:

"For they preach, but do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people's shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger. They do all their deeds to be seen by others."

In Matthew 6:1 we are warned: "Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you have no reward from your Father who is in heaven." Jesus goes on to teach that our praying, fasting, and any good deed should be done without advertising it. We must be careful that we don't "sound the trumpet" when we do good works, making sure that everyone sees us.

Gospel reminder: Our acceptance is based on the works of Christ, so we don't need to try and win favor with God and man. We can rest in the gospel, which continues to bear fruit and good works (Colossians 1:6). As we serve the Lord, our motive should be to glorify God and not ourselves. "Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16).

IS YOUR “RELIGION” MERELY EXTERNAL?

Jesus rebukes the Pharisees in Luke 16:15: “You are those who justify yourselves before men, but God knows your hearts. For that which is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God." In Matthew 23:25-28, Jesus tells the Pharisees they are whitewashed tombs who focus on the outside but neglect the inside. A whitewashed tomb looks nice on the outside, but inside it’s full of death and decay.

We can go to church, volunteer, give money to the poor, and other good, external works, but still be dead in our sins. God is concerned about our heart. Are the commands of God constantly burdensome (1 John 5:3)? Are we constantly trying to produce on the outside what we don't feel or believe on the inside?

Gospel reminder: The work of the gospel changes us from the inside out. The New Covenant promised in Ezekiel 36 provides a new heart instead of simply changing us with external laws.

DO YOU PROCLAIM THE COMMANDS OF MEN AS COMMANDS OF GOD?

The Pharisees followed many man-made rules and enforced them on others. When Jesus and his followers refused to obey them, the Pharisees didn't appreciate it. Jesus tells them in Mark 7:8, "You leave the commandment of God and hold to the traditions of men."

There might be things that bother my conscience, so I personally refuse to take part in them. However, unless God calls something sin, we should be very careful about pushing men's opinions as commandments of God.

Gospel reminder: Oftentimes, when we add to God's law, we are doing so in an attempt to look or feel more holy. We might think such a strict lifestyle will win us extra favor before God, but the work of Christ is already complete and perfect, so we cannot add anything to it.

DO YOU FIND A WAY TO JUSTIFY YOUR DISOBEDIENCE?

The Pharisees found ways to justify themselves for disobeying the laws of God. In Mark 7:9-13, Jesus gives an example where the Pharisees were not helping their parents financially because they were "giving that money to God." While that might sound spiritual, Jesus said it's sinful not to honor one's mother and father, even if you are giving that money to the church.

We often find it easy to justify our sin. For instance, we justify our anger toward others by arguing they deserved it. Our secret sin isn't really a big deal because it's not hurting anyone, we tell ourselves. Our lack of church attendance is excusable because we're listening online. On and on we go, making molehills out of mountains. While the excuses may seem valid and appease our seared conscience, at the end of the day disobedience is still disobedience.

Gospel reminder: None of us can justify ourselves. Our debt has been paid by Christ, so we are now justified in him. Which means we should own our sin, confess it, and repent. Then, by God's grace, we press on without the weight of shame and guilt.

As we strive to be gospel-centered people of grace, let’s recognize the ease with which we can drift into a Pharisaical mindset. Let’s fight against this drift by continually looking to the gospel and beholding its beautiful truths.

"God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"

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James Williams has served as an Associate Pastor at FBC Atlanta, TX for four years. He is married to Jenny and they currently have four children in their home (three biological, one in foster care). He is in the dissertation stage of a PhD in Systematic Theology. You can follow James on Twitter or his church’s blog where he writes regularly.

How to Turn Down the Volume of Your Anxiety

Perhaps you’ve met Ms. Frantic. She arrives at the gym at 8:00 a.m. Hours later, she’s still pounding the treadmill, pumping iron, and powering away on the rowing machine, barely stopping to catch snatched sips from her water bottle. She looks exhausted, miserable, and ready to faint, but still she goes on. You ask her why she is doing this, and she replies, “Because I must.” When you press her, asking, “But, why must you?” she looks at you strangely, and impatiently exclaims, “I don’t know, I just must! There’s always more to do.”

Ms. Reflective also starts bright and early at 8:00 a.m., but she’s different. She uses the same machines and works equally hard at points, but not all the time. Every now and then, she enjoys a drink of refreshing cold water. Sometimes she pauses to look out the windows and simply watch the world go by. She laughs at the children splashing in the nearby swimming pool. She even spots a friend exercising and has time to wave, give a big encouraging smile, and sometimes chat.

Now ask yourself, “Which of these two images reflects how I live my life before God?” Am I Ms. Frantic or Ms. Reflective? Am I overworking and over-stressed, or am I taking time to think and to enjoy God’s world?

A MARTHA WORLD

“Women Are Working Themselves to Death,” warned a recent headline.[1] It was based on a joint study by Ohio State University and The Mayo Clinic that compared almost eight thousand men and women over a thirty-two-year period and found that working over forty hours a week did serious damage to women’s health, causing increased risk of heart disease, cancer, arthritis, and diabetes.[2] Working sixty or more hours a week tripled the risk of these conditions. Not surprisingly, the report’s lead author, professor Allard Dembe, warned: “People don’t think that much about how their early work experiences affect them down the road. . . . Women in their 20s, 30s, and 40s are setting themselves up for problems later in life.” Unexpectedly, the risks are elevated only for women, not for men. Further analysis led the researchers to conclude that the greater risk to women is not necessarily because women are weaker but because they are doing so much more than men:

"In addition to working at a job, women often come home to a 'second shift' of work where they are responsible for childcare, chores, housework, and more, according to sociologists. All of this labor at home and at work, plus all the stress that comes along with it, is severely affecting women. Research indicates women generally assume greater family responsibilities and thus may be more likely to experience overload compared to men."[3]

Professor Dembe also pointed to less job satisfaction among women because they have to juggle so many obligations at home as well. But this is not a problem just in the greater culture; it’s a problem in the Christian population too. A survey of over a thousand Christian women, sponsored by Christian Woman magazine, found that 60 percent of Christian women work full-time outside the home. Reflecting on this, Joanna Weaver, author of Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, commented, “Add housework and errands to a forty-hour-a-week career, and you have a recipe for weariness.” But she also warned homemakers: “Women who choose to stay at home find their lives just as full. Chasing toddlers, carpooling to soccer, volunteering at school, babysitting the neighbor’s kids— life seems hectic at every level.”[4] Maybe you’re now seeing Ms. Frantic in the mirror or hearing her in your heart and mind.

OUR INNER ORCHESTRA

Every Christian wants to know God more; few Christians fight for the silence required to know him. Instead, we spend our days smashing stillness-shattering, knowledge-destroying cymbals on our ears and in our souls. And with so many gongs and clashes in our lives, it can sometimes be difficult to isolate and identify them. So let me help you do this and then provide some mufflers.[5]

First, there’s the din of guilt, the shame and embarrassment of our dark moral secrets: “I should have . . . I shouldn’t have . . . I should have . . . I shouldn’t have . . . ” clangs noisily in our deep recesses, shattering our peace and disturbing our tranquility.

Then greed starts banging away in our hearts with its relentless drumstick: “I want it. I need it. I must have it. I will have it. I got it. I want it. I need it.” And so on.

And what’s that angry metal beat? It’s hate stirring up malice, ill will, resentment, and revenge: “How could she . . . I’ll get him! She’ll pay for this!” Of course, anger often clatters into the cymbal of controversy, sparking disagreements, debates, disputes, and divisions.

Vanity also adds its proud and haughty thud, drowning out all who compete with our beauty, our talents, and our status. “Me up . . . him down, me up . . . her down, me up . . . all down.”

Anxiety tinkles distractingly in the background too, rapidly surveying the past, the present, and the future for things to worry about: “What if . . . What if . . . What if . . . ” And is that the little, silver triangle of self-pity I hear? “Why me? Why me? Why me?”

The repetitive and unstoppable jangle of expectation comes from all directions—family, friends, employer, church, and especially from ourselves. Oh, for even a few seconds of respite from the tyranny of other people’s demands and especially from our demanding, oversensitive conscience.

And smashing into our lives wherever we turn, we collide with the giant cymbals of the media and technology: local and international, paper and pixels, sound and image, audio and video, beep and tweet, notifications and reminders, and on and on it goes.

Is it any wonder that we sometimes feel as if we’re going mad? Clanking and clanging, jingling and jangling, smashing and crashing, grating and grinding. A large, jarring orchestra of peace-disturbing, soul-dismantling cymbals. Then.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

But how?

SILENCING THE CYMBALS

We can silence the cymbal of guilt by taking faith to the blood of Christ and saying, “Believe!” Believe that all your sins are paid for and pardoned. There’s absolutely no reason to have even one whisper of guilt. Look at that blood until you grasp how precious and effective it is. It can make you whiter than snow and make your conscience quieter than the morning dew.

Greed is not easily silenced. Maybe muffled is about the best we can expect. Practice doing with less than usual, practice not buying even when you can afford it, practice buying nothing but necessities for a time, and practice spending time in the shadow of Calvary. How much less you’ll find you need when you see how much he gave! Draw up your budget at the cross (2 Corinthians 8:9).

Our unholy anger can be dialed down by God’s holy anger. When we feel God’s hot rage against all sin and all injustice, we begin to chill and calm. Vengeance is God’s; he will repay.

The doctrine of total depravity is the ultimate dampener of personal vanity. When I see myself as God sees me, my heart, my mind, and even my posture change. I stop competing for the top spot and start accepting the lowest place. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).

Hey! I’m beginning to hear some quiet now. But there’s still that rankling anxiety tinkling away. Oh, to be free of that!

Fatherhood.

What?

Yes, the fatherhood of God can turn the volume of anxiety to zero. He knows, he cares, and he will provide for your needs. Mute your “what-ifs” at the bird feeder (Matthew 6:25– 34). As mother-of-two Sarah told me, “Sometimes the things that can start to burn you out or cause you weariness are often things you can’t leave. Just because you’re feeling burned out by the responsibilities surrounding your husband and kids doesn’t mean you can just up and leave—sometimes not even just for an afternoon! Sometimes you just have to put your head down and persist—but at the same time it is important to take to our Father in heaven our emotions and weakness and weariness.”

Oh, and call in total depravity again when self-pity starts up. “Why me?” cannot stand long before “Why not me?”

“She has done what she could” (Mark 14:8). Don’t you just love Christ’s words to Mary when she anointed his head? What an expectation killer! Every time the despotic Devil, other people, or your tyrannical conscience demands more than you can give, remind them of Jesus’s calming words, “She has done what she could.”

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Content taken from Refresh: Embracing a Grace-Paced Life in a World of Endless Demands by Shona and David Murray, ©2017. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

Shona Murray is a mother of five children and has homeschooled for fifteen years. She is a medical doctor and worked as a family practitioner in Scotland until she moved to the United States with her husband, David.

David Murray (DMin, Reformation International Theological Seminary) is professor of Old Testament and practical theology at Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary and pastor of Grand Rapids Free Reformed Church. He is also a counselor, a regular speaker at conferences, and the author of Jesus on Every Page.

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[1] Jessica Mattern, “Women Are Working Themselves to Death, Study Shows,” Woman’s Day, July 5, 2016, http://www.womansday.com/health-fitness/news/a55529 /working-women-health-risks/.

[2] MistiCrane,“Women’s Long Work Hours Linked to Alarming Increases in Cancer,  Heart  Disease,” Ohio State University, June 16, 2016, https://news.osu.edu/news/2016 /06/16/overtime-women/.

[3] Mattern, “Women Are Working Themselves to Death, Study Shows.”

[4] Joanna Weaver, Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World (Colorado Springs, CO: Waterbrook, 2000), 7.

[5] Part of this section was previously published in Tabletalk, the monthly magazine of Ligonier Ministries. Used by permission.

Let Abundant Life Start Now

Our pre-teen conversation overheated quickly, as pre-teen conversations often do. While sitting in class, I argued for the doctrine of “grace alone,” with a friend of another faith, though I didn’t yet have the language to call it that.

I was extolling God’s ability to save anyone, yet my friend grew more and more indignant. “You mean to tell me,” he reasoned, “that the death-row prisoner who robbed and murdered all his life could whisper a prayer at the eleventh hour and go to heaven?”

His indignance was making me indignant. “Yes, of course!” Didn’t he want God to be like that?

More than twenty years later, I’m still right. The God I see in the Bible will condescend to save anyone who calls on his name (Romans 10:13). It should be our joy to know he is no respecter of our persons (Acts 10:34), and doesn’t exclude us on the basis of our sins—or include us on the strength of our resumes (Ephesians 2:8-9).

And yet I now see a little more nuance behind my friend’s response than I did years ago.

Recently while reading Dallas Willard’s The Divine Conspiracy, I came across a passage that clarified the conversation for me:

“It is now understood to be part of the ‘good news’ that one does not have to be a life student of Jesus in order to be a Christian and receive forgiveness of sins. This gives a precise meaning to the phrase ‘cheap grace,’ though it would be better described as ‘costly faithfulness.’ ”

To be clear, this wasn’t the argument my friend was making. His doctrine of salvation involved a divine ledger of debits and credits.

But there is something sad—a shame, really—to the idea that we would embrace Jesus at the last minute or treat him as a life-insurance policy. Not when we have the chance to enjoy him as long as we can on earth in view of enjoying him throughout eternity.

ERRORS ON BOTH SIDES

People on both sides of the Christian spectrum can uphold an incomplete view of salvation. Historically, conservative Christians have been guilty of perpetuating the idea that once you’re saved, you’re good to go. There is nothing left to do or think about. They easily can promote a “set it and forget it” view of our relationship to the Redeemer.

Christians with more progressive leanings have rightly criticized this view. Doesn’t the life and message of Jesus matter, they argue? We are intended to follow him in the here and now. How else will we follow him all the way to heaven?

But often it is people in this group who make the argument that unbelievers might, at the end of their lives, be saved through some miraculous act of God. Perhaps they’ll turn to Jesus in the afterlife—or, as some posit, it will be revealed that genuine faith in another god or way gets fulfilled in Christ.

Which is it? Are we meant to immerse ourselves in the life of Christ or not? Is salvation for now or for later?

We aren’t as careful with these questions as we ought to be, which reduces the conversation about who can be saved to an ethical or philosophical quandary.

“Who can God save?” keeps getting invited to the same parties and gets stuck in the corner talking to “Can God create a rock so big even he can’t lift it?” and “If you could, would you time travel back and kill Hitler?”

LIFE, NOW AND FOREVER

The cross is not a “get out of jail free” card; it is an invitation into the all-consuming life of God. Jesus does not preside over marriages of convenience; he enters into covenants with his people.

The gospel is good news for the death-row prisoner, the lifelong atheist, or the one who makes an eleventh-hour plea. That God would save anyone at all is amazing grace.

But when we treat that grace as a normal, or even desirable, view of salvation, we sacrifice God’s best at the altar of the merely good. We pit fullness of life against sufficiency to save. But these two things never were meant to be at odds.

The ideal seen in the Gospels is people who immediately answer Jesus’ life-changing call to “follow me” (Matthew 4:18-22). Those who wished to accomplish something first or wanted to wait for the right moment, walked away from their encounters with Jesus disappointed (Matthew 8:21-22).

Jesus came to save us eternally, no doubt (John 3:17). But he also came to offer us an abundance of life in the here and now (John 10:10). He treats us to a full measure of God’s presence; we get to open the treasure chest of delights he makes available (Psalm 16:11).

This should be our ideal: life now with Christ. Life forevermore with him.

CALLING PEOPLE TO MORE LIFE

What does this have to do with discipleship? Quite a bit, as it turns out.

In the same section of his book, Willard refers to what he calls “nondiscipleship” as the elephant in the church. He writes:

“The division of professing Christians into those for whom it is a matter of whole-life devotion to God and those who maintain a consumer, or client, relationship to the church has now been an accepted reality for over fifteen hundred years.”

There are at least two ways that our view of salvation affects our ability to make disciples.

First, how we win disciples is how we’ll keep them. From our pulpits to our casual conversations, we need to hold up a full and true doctrine of salvation. We should strive to be honest and complete about what it is we’re calling people into and who we’re urging them to follow.

If we hold up the cross as a way to avoid hell and herald Jesus as a victor who enables us to live free of divine worry, we can’t be surprised when we make disciples more interested in security than sanctification.

But if we call people to lose their life with the suffering servant (Isaiah 53) and to pursue a life which aims to know God no matter what it costs (Philippians 3:7-11), we will find ourselves leading disciples who are willing to bear their daily cross and fight for joy in Jesus.

Second, we are called both to equip people to live for Christ now while preparing them for heaven in the future. Biblically, this is one and the same pursuit.

I’ve heard numerous preachers ask congregations whether they could enjoy heaven and all its benefits—no sin, no sickness, no death—if Jesus were not there. This isn’t some rhetorical guilt-trip. It’s a question that really matters. If our lives today aren’t about enjoying as much of Jesus as we can, what makes us think we’ll enjoy his presence unleashed and unbridled?

Once again, Willard is here to challenge us:

“I am thoroughly convinced that God will let everyone into heaven who, in his considered opinion, can stand it. But ‘standing it’ may prove to be a more difficult matter than those who take their view of heaven from popular movies or popular preaching may think. The fires in heaven may be hotter than those in the other place.”

Life eternal and life abundant were always meant to go hand-in-hand. They are not enemies or opposites, but the closest of companions. The salvation experience you treasure is the one you will begin to live out.

Those who have been rescued and redeemed by Jesus are offered fullness of life and joy in him today. Right this very minute.

Let’s not wait. Let abundant life start now!

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Aarik Danielsen is the arts and music editor at the Columbia Daily Tribune in Columbia, Missouri, where he also serves Karis Church as a lay pastor. Find his work at facebook.com/aarikdanielsenwrites and follow him on Twitter: @aarikdanielsen.

Do You Take the Great Commission Personally?

In Acts 7, a leader in the Church named Stephen is dragged before the Sanhedrin and demanded to explain his beliefs. Assured by Jesus that the Holy Spirit would give him the words, he opened his mouth and started talking. What followed was a sweeping history of the people of Israel, culminating in their handing over Jesus to be crucified. As you might imagine, that didn’t go over so well with the Jewish crowd. Stephen was dragged out of the city and stoned to death. His death sparked intense persecution for followers of Jesus. So intense that, as we’re told in Acts 8:1,

There arose on that day a great persecution against the church in Jerusalem, and they were all scattered throughout the regions of Judea and Samaria, except the apostles.

At the end of that verse, there’s an interesting detail. It says everyone was scattered “except the apostles.”

Why is that so interesting? Well, just before ascending to heaven, Jesus told his disciples they would spread his teaching from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria and the rest of the world (Acts 1:8). The moment Jesus-followers were scattered, the spread of the gospel out of Jerusalem and into the rest of the world began.

And the Apostles weren’t a part of it.

Imagine if you had to pick one person or team of people from your church to go and take the message of Jesus somewhere new. You would probably pick your senior pastor or the team of pastors at your church, right? What a shock it would be to find out that, not only were they unable to go, but you and your small group were the ones that had to do it.

EVERYONE EXCEPT THE APOSTLES

That’s what the Bible is telling us here—a mostly unknown group of Christians took the gospel into places like Judea and Samaria, planting churches as they went. These were average people with normal jobs that had to earn a living and figure out how to spread the gospel.

That means they had to do something fundamental: they had to make disciples.

And they did. Acts 11 shows us where the believers who were scattered after Stephen’s murder ended up. They went all over the place, but some went to Antioch and started preaching the gospel to the non-Jewish people living there.

Barnabas, a trusted man in the church, was so impressed with what was going on in Antioch he brought his friend the Apostle Paul to check it out. Together they taught and encouraged this fledgling church where followers of Jesus were called “Christians” for the first time.

It’s easy to miss what’s going on here because, well, it’s missing. And that’s the names—the names of the Christians who took the gospel to parts unknown. These were literally no-name men and women who were making disciples and planting churches.

By the way, the church in Antioch ended up becoming the church planting center of the early church. The church in Antioch actually sent Paul and Barnabas out on their first missionary journey.

From the beginning of the Church, then, we see everyday Christians making disciples, planting churches, and sending missionaries.

TAKING THE GREAT COMMISSION PERSONALLY

These early Christians knew they were part of a close-knit, life-on-life community that was called to love one another like their own family. The book of Acts and the Epistles attest to that.

The Church knew then, like it does now, that it had collectively been given the Great Commission. But the first Christians went one step further—they took the Great Commission personally.

They knew they were each called to make disciples. Not just the elders. Not just the Apostles. Every one of them. The early Christians took the Great Commission personally and collectively.

We’ve seen a renewed focus on the gospel and its sending emphasis of late, which is incredibly hopeful. Much of that emphasis is on churches as collective bodies, and rightly so. But let’s not lose sight of our personal call to make disciples and teach them to obey everything Jesus commanded.

This lack of emphasis on a personal call to make disciples is why most churchgoers’ lives look no different than their unbelieving neighbors. It’s why the divorce rate is the same among Christians and non-Christians. And it’s why Christians believe they should share their faith, but most of them don’t.

DO YOU TAKE THE GREAT COMMISSION PERSONALLY?

Just imagine yourself in a modern-day version of the situation in Acts. Imagine being dropped off in the middle of a city like Los Angeles or San Francisco. But instead of churches all over the place, there are no believers to be found. There are no church leaders, no pastors, no denominations. If you found yourself in that situation, would you know what to do?

I’m afraid for too many of us the answer is a resounding no. We would have no idea where to begin. No idea of how to evangelize our neighbors, baptize them, and start teaching them to obey Jesus’ commandments. No idea of how to live in community with other believers in a way that’s so attractive that those around us can’t help but ask what’s going on.

We can say we don’t need to be directly involved in discipling people because we have the freedom to have large churches with lots of pastors and seminaries to train them to do the work (here in America, at least).

And that’s true. All of those things are possible, which is perhaps why that’s largely the way evangelical churches operate in America.

But does that make it the right way to operate? Just because we can structure things that way, should we?

Here’s a diagnostic question: If there was no church to invite people to, no engaging services to ease the anxieties of the unchurched, no safe and fun children’s ministry for their kids, would you still know how to tell your neighbors about Jesus?

The answer to that question reveals a lot about whether or not we should be operating in a way that removes personal responsibility for the Great Commission.

THE PERSONAL BURDEN TO MAKE DISCIPLES

Only when Christians wake each day with a burden to make disciples in their particular context—only when that is their primary calling and way they view the purpose of their life—does the church function the way it was intended. Only when Christians gauge their effectiveness based on their own fruit instead of their pastor’s does the gospel multiply.

Otherwise, the Church gets bogged down arguing about strategy and philosophy of ministry and all the things that keep it from focusing on Jesus’ last words (Matt. 28:18-20).

When Jesus came back from the dead, he called together the small band of people who followed him. His intimate circle included eleven men. At most he had 120 followers. It was to this small group that Jesus handed responsibility for completing his mission by making disciples just like he did.

True disciples have been made in this same way ever since: by a group of believers each investing in the people around them, giving them the best news they’ve ever received, and teaching them to follow Jesus.

Grayson Pope is a husband and father of three, as well the Managing Web Editor at GCD. He serves as Pastor of Community at his church in Charlotte, NC and has earneda MACS at The Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Grayson’s passion is to equip believers for every day discipleship to Jesus. For more of his writing check out his website, or follow him on Twitter.

The Word for the World

The following is an excerpt from our newest release, That Word Above All Earthly Powers. You can pick up the book in Kindle or paperback format.

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In the film, Ghost in the Shell, the central character has an entirely upgraded body, complete with cloaking abilities and enhanced strength. Her brain, however, is intact, salvaged from her mangled body, just before she died.

Haunted by memories that don’t square with what she’s been told about her past, she lives between a distant humanity and a very real cybernetic present. She struggles to grasp who she is while concluding, “We cling to memories as if they define us, but what we do defines us.”

DO ACTIONS MATTER MOST?

In an age of activism and protest, it’s easy to think that words don’t really matter. It’s what we do that counts. But when we speak, we actually act. In marriage vows, the words of the bride and groom move them from friend to spouse. Words can make a vow, bring someone back from the brink of suicide, and inflict pain that lingers for decades.

Words are active and powerful.

This is why James warns that the tongue is like a tiny rudder which turns an entire ship, and can set the whole world on fire. The right words from our president could trigger a nuclear war, and the words, “I love you” spoken from a sincere heart can change the course of your life. If human words are that powerful, it stands to reason that God’s words are all the more vital.

So where do we find God’s words? In the Bible.

THE SPEECH OF GOD

The Bible is God’s personal speech to us. Over and over again the Scriptures record, “Thus said the Lord” or “The word of the Lord came to…” When you hear someone’s voice in another room, you can tell who it is without even seeing them. Why? Because their speech is uniquely personal; it reveals them and not somebody else. Similarly, God’s words are uniquely personal; they reveal him. The Bible is God speaking, in space and time, to us.

Now what is particularly unique about God’s voice is that it comes through other voices. Male voices, female voices, voices of all kinds of experiences, ethnicities, cultures and in three different languages. His word is modulated through speakers. But just because it is modulated through people doesn’t mean it originated with people, “For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:21). So while the Bible is true to people’s experience, it isn’t dictated by experience; it is dictated, in a sense, by God’s Spirit. The authors of Scripture spoke from God, not themselves, as God exhaled his revelation through their unique personalities (2 Timothy 3:16). But, for some, this idea seems like a stretch.

If we rule out this possibility, that God can speak to humanity through his Spirit and his Word, then we’re left with two problems. First, we’re saying if there is a God he is incapable of communicating with us. But if he is God, shouldn’t he be free to communicate however he wants?

Second, if we approach Scripture with the assumption God can’t speak through people to reveal himself, and that the Bible can’t be trusted, we’re judging his voice before we’ve even heard it. We’re saying, without having heard his voice, what his voice is like—not the voice of Scripture. This would be like making up our mind that Morgan Freeman’s voice is not his voice without ever having heard it.

This places us over Freeman, assaulting his uniqueness, predetermining what he can and cannot sound like, when in reality his speech is just that—his speech. We cannot change what is. God speaks, and it is precisely because he possesses this attribute—speech—that we speak. We are cut from the cloth of a communicating God.

As Tom Wolfe points out, “Speech, and only speech gives man the power to ask questions about his own life—and take his own life. No animal ever commits suicide.” Indeed, speech allows us to explore these questions even now. It follows, then, that if God has chosen the Scriptures to communicate with us, and his words are the origin of all, shouldn’t we lean in to learn the sound of his voice?

THE SOUND OF JESUS

What, then, does his voice sound like? It sounds like Jesus.

The word of God is not only his capacity to speak, a divine attribute, but it is also a person, the Word, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). Jesus is the Word.

As history unfolds, the use of prophets taper off and the person of Christ takes their place, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Hebrews 1:1). Christ is the Word, the speech of God whom the Spirit bears witness to. But what does he witness Jesus doing?

Jesus did not just stand on a mountain, like a heavenly attraction, for people to visit and marvel at. The Word taught, using words. And when Jesus was on trial for all his words, words that upset the status quo, that questioned what people thought, Pilate asked Jesus if he was the king of the world.

Jesus replied, “For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth” (John 19:37). The truth, not a truth. We can’t overwrite his words here. Jesus says his purpose was to bear witness to the truth, the truth concerning his cosmic royalty and redemption. We don’t have to like his words, but that would be a silly reason to reject them. Do we truly think God will always agree with us, take our side, and support our every thought? Who then would be the real God?

Jesus taught that he was the Messiah of God come to rescue sinners who repent and trust in him for salvation. But the Word did more than teach; he enacted his teaching. He gave lessons that previewed his actions. Jesus did not pit word against deed. The Word stood up for the truth, and it cost him his life. He threw himself in front of the oncoming eighteen-wheeler of God’s holy wrath to deliver us from sin, death, and hell.

His blood still speaks . . . and his body rose from the dead.

THE WORD FOR THE WORLD

Walking on the road to Emmaus, the resurrected Word taught once again. He joined his journeying disciples, but they didn’t have a clue who he was. It wasn’t enough for the grieving disciples to see Jesus. They needed to hear his voice—for the Word to reveal himself, “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27). He explained how it was necessary he suffer these things and then enter into glory. We’re told their hearts burned within them and their eyes were opened to the Word, and then he vanished.

The Bible is the Word of God, and the Word of God is the centerpiece of the Bible. The Word is God’s speech, and God’s speech is the Word. Scripture is God’s revelation, and it reveals, supremely, the person and work of Christ for the world. How can this be? John Frame explains, “There is no contradiction between thinking of the word as a divine attribute and thinking of the Word as the name of the eternal Son of God. Fatherhood is a divine attribute, but Father is also the name of the first person of the Trinity.”

Therefore, we can say that the Word points to the Word. The Law, the Psalms, the Prophets, every epoch of history points forward to Christ. They show us the need for a just ruler and a humble sufferer. A king who can lead us out of this mess, and a savior who can take our place. In this way, the Word is for the world.

The Bible is a collection of memories meant to inscribe us into redemptive history, eternally defining us in a way our actions never could, sons and daughters of a flawless Father, citizens of the cosmic King. But when we fail to return to these inspired, performative, transforming stories—the true story of the world—we fill in our own stories with lesser words.

WHEN WORDS ARE ENOUGH

When we wake up and peruse the news headlines, or spend our morning scrolling a social media feed, we replace the redemptive memories of the world with ephemeral chatter and fleeting headlines. If this process repeats, we will find ourselves at a distance from God and overcome by the brokenness of the world. Enough with the words. The controversy and chaos are simply too great.

This leaves us with two decisions, spiral into despair, reaching for a pint of distraction to wash it down. Or take up redemption ourselves, subtly believing it is what we do that the defines us and the world. If we choose the latter, every injustice necessarily becomes something we must right. We become savior and judge. Those who fail to join our crusades suffer our scorn. When in fact, we will be dead in a matter of time.

But those who saturate their hearts and minds with the speech of God, and behold day by day the Word of Christ, will respond with the very character of Christ, the Word become humble flesh. We will act out of the redemptive memory of a Savior who suffers and rises to make all things new. We will reject the dichotomy between thinking and doing, reading and acting, and allow the Word of Christ to dwell in us richly, so much so that we respond in all kinds of unexpected ways—service and silence, witness and study.

Far from ghosts in a shell, we are embodied souls shaped by the Word. We speak and we act because the Bible is personal speech of a crucified God—the Word for the World. But only in Christ do we find the perfect balance, a person whose actions do not speak louder than words, and words do not speak louder than actions; instead, they speak in concert, emitting the sound of redemption and forgiveness for all who will take them in. The Word that is enough.

The Bible is God’s speech to us, and we have it in our hands, but will we give it to the world?

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Jonathan K. Dodson (M.Div, Th.M) is the founding pastor of City Life Church in Austin, TX which he started with his wife, Robie, and a small group of people. They have three children. He is also the founder of GCDiscipleship.com and author of a number of books including Gospel-Centered Discipleship, and Here in Spirit: Knowing the Spirit who Creates, Sustains, and Transforms All Things (IVP, 2018).

New Book Release | That Word Above All Earthly Powers

Today we release our newest book, That Word Above All Earthly Powers. Pick up the paperback or Kindle edition at Amazon.com.

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The Protestant Reformation means many things to many people. More than just a movement of people away from an ecclesiological structure filled with abuses, the Reformation was a movement back to the truth of God contained in the Scriptures.

THE AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE

Underneath this movement was the question where does the authority for life and salvation rest? In answer to that question, the Reformers declared Sola Scriptura, or Scripture alone possesses the authority to command our lives and declare where salvation is found.

Scripture has the final word to determine how we should live—not the Roman Catholic Church.

Scripture alone possesses the truth of how we are rescued from our sin and rebellion against God. For the Christian, the Scripture is the highest authority over and against any church tradition or structure.

PERSONAL REFLECTIONS ON THE AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE

As we look back 500 years, we give thanks to God for his grace to inspire and embolden men and women to work for the reform and purity of the gospel for the good of the world.

And, yet, we must also give thanks for the Scriptures themselves. As God's revealed, pure, and complete Word for us containing all we need for salvation and life, we must humble ourselves to its authority. The Reformation reminds us of the emboldened passion to lift high Christ above all and to bring to the center God's Word for the shaping of our lives.

This collection of reflections written by the GCD Staff Team and noted writers and theologians like Dr. Gerry Breshears, Micah Fries, and Jonathan Dodson is our effort to spur you on to listen to the voice of God through his Word and humbly receive his grace for all of life.

Our prayer is that this book will bolster your confidence in the authority of God's Word, and encourage you to see his grace for all of life.

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Purchase That Word Above All Earthly Powers in paperback or Kindle edition.

Dressing Up as Jesus for Halloween (and Every Other Day)

As October comes to an end, the question on every kid’s mind is, “What are you going to be for Halloween?” If you’re a parent, you’ve probably overheard your kids discussing their wardrobe plans, or found yourself doing recon on Pinterest to figure out the year’s best costumes. The holiday aisles of Walmart and Target are fully stocked to help the less crafty among us outfit our children for the occasion. If Jake wants to be a ninja, all he needs is the right mask, a sword, and a black suit. Anna can be a princess by donning a crown, sparkly shoes, and a poofy dress. When little Kevin knocks on his neighbor’s door expectantly awaiting Snickers and Kit Kats, he wants his neighbor to see a fireman, not the little boy from next door who leaves his toys all over the lawn. So he wears the helmet, coat, and boots of a fireman. He pretends to save the day by putting out fires.

Wouldn’t it be great if we really could put on different clothes and transform into someone other than who we are? God’s Word has much to say about the kind of clothes we should put on.

WE NEED A WARDROBE CHANGE

Prior to repentance, the filth of sin covers us. When we live by the flesh we wear soiled garments all day long. Jude 23 teaches the appropriate response to sin is to, “hate even the garment stained by the flesh.” What we wear on the outside reflects what we look like on the inside.

God commands us in Ephesians 4:22-24 to, “put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” Our old clothes are no longer appropriate; they reflect our old lives. The Bible says we used to wear our corruption. But if we are in Christ, we are new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17) and we need new clothes.

Paul tells us to put off our old life of sin and to, “put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator” (Colossians 3:10). As image-bearers of God (Genesis 1:27), we reflect him to the watching world. We must dress appropriately for this task. We can’t walk around with the stench of our filthy garments of sin clinging to us. We must instead, “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light” (Romans 13:12).

We must, by God’s grace, exchange our old life and its filthy clothing with the new life found only in Christ and his righteousness. God tells us how we should dress in Romans 13:14: “But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” Once redeemed, don’t continue to allow sin to stain your new wardrobe. James is very direct when he says, “keep yourself unstained from the world” (James 1:27).

GOD CLOTHES HIS CHILDREN

God showed Zechariah a vision of him providing new clothes for the high priest, Joshua. Joshua was impure and God cleansed him of his dirtiness. He also gave him new clothes once he was clean. Zechariah 3:3-4 says, “Now Joshua was standing before the angel, clothed with filthy garments. And the angel said to those who were standing before him, ‘Remove the filthy garments from him.’ And to him he said, ‘Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with pure vestments.’ ”

Luke’s gospel tells of the prodigal son’s father clothing him by commanding his servants, “Bring quickly the bests robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet” (Luke 15:22). The prodigal’s status had gone from lost to found, and his father wanted his clothes to reflect that change in standing. He needed new clothes and his father provided them.

Isaiah’s heart was filled with gratitude for the new clothes his Father gave him. He says, “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels” (Isaiah 61:10).

God has been clothing his creation since the beginning. Genesis 3:21 says, “And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skins and clothed them.” When we, by his grace, reject our old life and turn to him in repentance, he gives us a new wardrobe appropriate for his children. He clothes us in the beauty of the gospel.

SHOW OFF YOUR NEW CLOTHES

When our children put on their costumes this Halloween, they will want everyone to see their new look. Moms and dads will follow them around like paparazzi to document the transformation from little girl to Superwoman, or from little boy to Batman. As we watch our children dress up for the day, we can rejoice knowing we get to wear the new clothes our Father gives us for all eternity. Unlike our children, we don’t have to pretend to be something we’re not.

We belong to God. He has adopted us and clothed us with the garments that reflect our new identity as heirs (Romans 8:15-17). We’ve traded in our filthy rags and are now clothed in his righteousness. We should be excited for everyone to see our new look, too!

Our spiritual clothing communicates identity and belonging. As God’s children, we must dress accordingly. Job says he dressed in righteousness and justice. “I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my justice was like a robe and a turban” (Job 29:14).

What is your spiritual wardrobe telling the world? When others see you, do they see the righteousness of Christ, or do they see garments stained by the world?

Put on Jesus. Show him off. Let others see how your Father has dressed you.

We want the world to see what he looks like on us. We want the world to see what he looks like through us. We wear Christ for the glory of God.

Let’s show the world our new life and the wardrobe that comes with it. Let’s tell others how they can trade in their old, dirty rags for the finest clothes.

The Spiritual Angst of Martin Luther

Martin Luther experienced angst in the extreme. Born five hundred years ago into a humble copper miner’s family, it was neither career uncertainty nor economic worry that most troubled young Martin, though I’ll bet that German winter got him down. Martin experienced anxiety of cosmic dimensions. He was petrified by death, hell, and the avenging wrath of God. At twenty years old, weeping and wailing, trembling and doubting, Martin despaired over the salvation of his own soul. He was convinced that God’s grace was utterly blocked by his mortal guilt and that there was just no way out. “To cry unto the Lord, that is beyond us,” he lamented, “for our bad conscience and our sin press down on us, and lie so about our necks so badly that we feel the Wrath of God: and the whole world could not be so heavy as that burden.”

The Jesus of Martin’s imagination promised no refuge; he never showed up as a brotherly Savior offering comfort. When Martin kneeled on the stone floor of the unheated church, the young man looked up to the crucifix with the suffering Christ hanging there—and he saw a harsh judge from whom he wanted to flee. Martin turned pale, terrified by the very name of Jesus; Christ’s accusing gaze was, he said, a lightning stroke to him.

But one day, Martin was caught out in an open field during a violent thunderstorm, convinced that a fiery death was at hand. In desperation he cried out for rescue and vowed to become a monk if only God would spare his life. Martin survived the storm. I’ve also made some impulsive, emergency promises, bargaining with God and then always managing to forget, but Martin actually made good on his prayer. He gave away his possessions and signed on at the Augustinian monastery before even checking with his parents. They’d been pushing him to become a respectable lawyer. Eager to go all the way, Martin, at twenty four, became a priest.

Unfortunately, Martin’s new religious vocation provided zero relief from his anxiety. Martin found no peace within the monastery walls despite his scrupulous regimen of vigils, fasts, confessions, and grueling self-punishments. Plagued by distress, he was tormented by the vision of an irate God who set impossibly high standards then damned him for failing to achieve them. Martin came to hate the God he was commanded to serve.

Disillusioned, melancholy Martin lost all hope in the church’s claims to salvation. The corruption of the medieval church, with its pay-your-way-to-heaven scams, pushed him over the edge. On October 31, 1517, Martin nailed his famous protest declaration, his Ninety-Five Theses, onto the massive door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, declaring war against the Christian establishment. With that, the Protestant Reformation began.

Martin antagonized the church elites and then stubbornly refused to recant. The authorities excommunicated him as a heretic, vowing fatal penalties. Martin, a convicted clerical outlaw on the lam, hid out behind the walls of Wartburg Castle for almost a year.

Driven by rebellion and despair, Martin turned to the Bible. Paul’s words in Romans captured his attention: “‘He who through faith is righteous shall live” (Romans 1:17). With that truth, everything changed. Martin found relief from his doomed efforts to win God’s pleasure, the impasse of church dogma and religious piety. Faith, he realized, is simple trust in God’s promises, no matter how we feel or what we accomplish. What an unexpected, astounding revelation: salvation is a gift! In a profound emotional rush, Martin declared, “When I realized this, I felt myself born again.” It was as if “the gates of paradise had been flung open” and he’d walked in.

Did Martin’s newfound spiritual freedom heal his heart and calm him down? Hardly.

Intense, complex Martin launched ferocious doctrinal debates and waged personal battles. Unwilling to back down, Luther vilified his opponents as dragons, specters and witches, monsters of perdition, and enemies in a pantheon of wickedness. (You did not want to get on this guy’s bad side.) Martin’s countercultural ideas took off and ignited violent peasant uprisings. Historians say that his theological revolution ushered in the modern era of Western history. So, uh, no. Martin never calmed down.

Martin did find some relief in human love. No longer a monk in good standing, Martin Luther married Katharina von Bora, a runaway nun. She’d escaped the fortifications of her convent hidden in an empty fish barrel, a display of her innovative spirit. Katharina was one no-nonsense wife. She ran a buzzing household, supervised their six children, hosted mobs of relations and theology students, and all while she managed her brewery, vegetable garden and fish hatchery. It’s no wonder Martin utterly adored the woman. He warmly declared, “There is no more lovely, friendly, and charming relationship, communion, or company than a good marriage.”

Even with intimate family affection, close community, prayer, biblical conviction, and outsized courage, Martin was still plagued by chronic anxiety to the end of his life, a condition he named Anfechtung, with its connotation of assault. At fifty, Luther lamented that his dark emotional afflictions, those “weapons of death,” were still troubling him—more worrisome than any of his intellectual labors or personal enemies. One strategy usually helped. When things got bad, he said, he got into bed and embraced his Katy until her nearness sent the demonic depressions away.

In Martin’s time, fellow sufferers came to him and begged for counsel. Pastor Martin first responded with theological insights. Jesus knows that we worry, he truly does, Martin assures them (and us). So listen deeply to Jesus’ words, he’d say, “Let not your hearts be troubled. Trust in God.” In your hopelessness, your angst, your helplessness, there is a clear divine command: Rejoice! Yes, Martin, insists, “The Christian should and must be a cheerful person.” I for one read this and ask: isn’t cheerfulness a lot to expect? I know I can hardly complain, compared to some impoverished Germanic peasant in the year 1500. But still. I can’t just put on a happy face.

It is said that Martin prayed the Lord’s Prayer eight times a day. I don’t think he did it as an act of rote religiosity. Instead, I think Martin was daily tested by his apprehension, continually forced back to ask for

God’s help. Only in prayer was Martin assured, as he said, that Christ loved him, that the Father loved him, that the Holy Spirit loved him.

I imagine going back to sixteenth-century Wittenberg for an afternoon. I walk along Collegienstrasse and through the Katharinenportal to enter the Luther-Von Bora house. I pull a chair up to the heavy wooden table in the Lutherstube and join the men for several hours of heated intellectual debate. In the courtyard, the Luther kids scramble after squawking chickens beyond the smoky kitchen. The chatter, the commotion, the conflict. It’s just too much. I have to get outside and walk.

Katharina and Martin guide me into the medieval streets. We push through the crowded market square, past crofters’ clay and straw huts, through the ramparts and city gate and into the open summer fields of Saxony. Here, with the sun on our faces, Martin drops his cantankerous tone for a more pastoral, reflective manner.

Martin quotes Jesus, who said, “Do not be anxious, saying ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ Your heavenly Father knows that you need these things.” As we amble through the grass, I picture Martin as the young man who bolted across this very meadow, caught in the stormy terror of God’s wrath. Here he is, speaking of grace. I know that it’s not easy for him.

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Adapted from Vintage Saints and Sinners by Karen Wright Marsh. Copyright (c) 2017 by Karen Wright Marsh. Published by InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL. www.ivpress.com

Karen Wright Marsh is executive director and cofounder of Theological Horizons, a university ministry that has advanced theological scholarship at the intersection of faith, thought, and life since 1991. Karen directs daily programs, writes resources and curriculum, teaches weekly classes, mentors students, leads the staff, and speaks at retreats, churches, and campus ministries. She holds degrees in philosophy and linguistics from Wheaton College and the University of Virginia. Karen lives in Charlottesville, Virginia, with her husband, Charles Marsh.

Glorifying God in Our Ends and Means

A few years ago, my kids participated in an AWANA program at our local church. This ministry strives to teach kids the Bible. All week long, my boys worked hard to memorize several verses. I’ll admit I was tempted to think my mom game was strong—I clearly was raising kids who loved God’s Word. But as time passed, I realized my boys were working hard to memorize verses so they could receive AWANA bucks—play money to be used in the AWANA store to buy toys and candy.

My dreams of raising the next John Piper were crushed. As it turns out, my little guys loved candy and did what they could to get more of it.

At the time, memorizing Scripture was just a means to an end for my boys. They valued treats and trinkets, not truth. I explained to them that learning God’s Word is a reward in itself. As with many aspects of parenting, through correcting my children, God began to reveal ways I devalued processes in my own life.

WHEN OUR GOALS AREN’T GODS

We can all be tempted to only value the final product, not the process. Often we value the destination, not the journey.

But our invested time and labor is not just a means to an end. It's in those processes and journeys that God is making much of himself in us. God is transforming our character and revealing himself. We would be wise to see the value in the means.

We work hard for rewards and value them. We desire to be thinner and healthier, so we diet and exercise. We are motivated by the end result of getting back into those jeans and watching our blood pressure go down. Diet and exercise can easily be viewed as a necessary evil to accomplish our goal of getting fit.

We want to get a good grade on a test, so we study hard to learn the material and get an A. Studying is a discipline endured to achieve a goal.

We want our children to obey, so we train them to respect our authority. The time spent teaching them is difficult and draining. But we know it’s the only way to accomplish our desired goal: having obedient children.

We desire to provide for our families, so we work hard five days a week to receive a paycheck.

The goals we work for can be good, and God can be glorified in them. But we shouldn’t be negligent in seeing and desiring God’s glory in the labor towards our goals. We miss out when we only see the process as the means to an end. God redeems our means and glorifies himself in them.

FINDING LIFE IN THE MEANS

Valuing the process is not a new idea; it’s a biblical one. When God rescued the Israelites from Egypt, their destination was the promised land of Canaan. They arrived via a 40-year detour in the wilderness. This was their means. Yes, this means was a time of punishment, discipline, and refinement (Joshua 5:6), but God was with them and displayed his glory to them.

He provided for his people with manna in the mornings and quail in the evenings (Exodus 16:12). He gave them water from a rock (Exodus 17:6). He kept their clothes and shoes intact for 40 years (Deuteronomy 29:5).

The Israelites were focused on getting to Canaan. In the meantime, God was with them, teaching them to trust him.

The ends we strive for make up very little of our lives. Most of our lives are lived in the means. The means may be pretty or messy, but God is sovereign over them all. He’s with us in our weakness, making us strong (2 Corinthians 12:10). When we believe, it’s because he was with us in our unbelief (Mark 9:24).

God is transforming us while we’re in the meantime.

God values a mother’s work training children. In doing so, she is loving him through her obedience (Proverbs 22:6). A student’s hard work has eternal value when it’s done for the Lord (Colossians 3:23).

We bring God glory as we display his self-control in our lives by eating enough to sustain our bodies, not overindulging. We can value this discipline by eating to the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31). God values our hunger for him that surpasses our hunger for anything else.

God values our time at work as a place we make disciples (Matthew 28:19).

Yes, we want to see God glorified in our achievements. But it’s short-sighted to stop there. We should seek God’s glory in the means, processes, journeys, and methods. We can glorify God in where we go as well as how we get there. We can bring him glory in what we do and how we do it. God should be glorified in our ends and our means.

GOD’S MEANS

Even God’s plan to reconcile his creation to himself was a process. God could have simply desired it and it would have been so. But he chose a means to an end that involved him giving of himself to accomplish our redemption.

This method required decades of his Son humbly living the life we couldn’t here on earth, in perfect obedience, and without sin. It will require millennia of his patience toward us as he desires to see everyone repent (2 Peter 3:9). God is not wasting thousands of years, though. This time is valuable and transformational for his people.

One day our earthly pilgrimage will be over. We will be completely conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29), forever with him in glory (Colossians 3:4). We will have a beautiful story to share of how our Father transformed us into Christ’s image “from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Each degree of glory is another beautiful and valuable means to an end. As we look to that end, may we value the meantime.

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Christy Britton is a wife, homeschool mom of four biological sons, and soon-to-be mom of an adopted Ugandan daughter. She is an orphan advocate for 127 Worldwide. Her family is covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, N.C. She loves reading, discipleship, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for various blogs including her own, www.beneedywell.com.

Confessions of a Connoisseur

I recently read an interview conducted with the few common citizens who were able to obtain seats for the Academy Awards in Hollywood.  “It's American royalty,” said Barbara Doyle, 57. “We don't have the queen. We have actors and actresses.” “I've always wanted to do this,” said 48 year-old Pam Ford, who won front-row seats from a TV station. “To win and sit in the front row, it's beyond comprehension, anything I ever dreamed of. I could die tomorrow.”

Really? That’s the greatest dream she could envision? Surely there has to be more to life than this! Indeed, there have been those (including movie stars themselves) who have set much higher goals and pursued much greater pleasures, yet have still found they over-estimated the fulfillment even the grandest physical and mental achievements can provide.

A CONNOISSEUR CONFESSES

The dictionary defines a connoisseur as “a person with expert knowledge or training; a person of informed and discriminating taste.” Given that description, we might well say that the entire book of Ecclesiastes is the confession of a connoisseur, not just in one area or discipline, but every aspect of life and living.

Solomon, the author of Ecclesiastes, was one of the wealthiest and most intelligent men who has ever lived. He had everything—and tried everything—in order to find happiness. He makes the startling claim, “I have seen everything that is done under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:14), and goes on to challenge the reader to find a more experienced connoisseur: “What can the man do who comes after the king? Only what has already been done” (Ecclesiastes 2:12).

This book, then, is the remarkable journal of a connoisseur who tried it all and has passed his findings on to us. It is important to realize that Solomon was not merely a whining failure who couldn’t reach the top and so despised and disparaged it. No, Solomon was a success in every area of life and is speaking to us from under the sun, but also from on top of the world!

I TURNED MY HEART TO KNOW

Solomon gave himself wholly to the pursuit of personal pleasure and knowledge: “I turned my heart to know…” (Ecclesiastes 7:25). And because Solomon was a man of tremendous power, influence, intellect, and resources, he was successful to the extent that he experienced everything the world has to offer. He became “a person of expert knowledge” in every area of life. He tried it all, with all his might.

In order to appreciate the extent of Solomon’s existential research, we could summarize his experiences in six categories.

Knowledge and Education

Solomon says, “I applied my heart to know wisdom” (Ecclesiastes 1:17). Solomon was the scholar’s scholar, the academic’s academic. He excelled in science, architecture, philosophy, religion, literature—you name it, he had mastered it. In fact, the queen of Sheba tested him in exactly this manner, pressing him with every hard question she could think of and observing first-hand all his accomplishments. Even this wealthy, intelligent, and powerful woman finally admitted that “the half was not told” her in relation to Solomon’s wealth of wisdom (1 Kings 10:1-7).

The Arts and Entertainment

Solomon frankly states, “I said in my heart, ‘Come now, I will test you with pleasure; enjoy yourself’” (Ecclesiastes 2:1). He said he listened to a variety of singers, musical instruments, etc. (Ecclesiastes 2:8). There was no end to Solomon’s resources, and he dedicated his bottomless assets to the pursuit of every escape and amusement money could buy.

Temporary Highs

As is common, Solomon combined his pursuit of entertainment with other opportunities for temporary excitement. He says, “I searched with my heart how to cheer my body with wine” (Ecclesiastes 2:3). It appears Solomon was not half-hearted about anything he did, including partying and drunkenness.

Accomplishments and Luxuries

“I made great works,” Solomon boasts, including houses, gardens, and water features he designed himself (Ecclesiastes 2:4-6). Even though he was a king, he was also what we call a “renaissance man.” He was not idle but used his massive talents and creativity to push the boundaries of accomplishment in every direction.

Power and Wealth

Solomon was king of Israel during the zenith of its influence and prosperity. “I also gathered for myself silver and gold and the treasure of kings and provinces” (Ecclesiastes 2:8), he says. In fact, we are told that in Solomon’s time silver was not even highly regarded because gold was in such abundance! Take a trip to Tiffany’s today and you’ll see that even in the U.S. we have not approached this level of wealth.

Companionship and Sex

The most infamous lady’s man in modern history could not hold a candle to the exploits of Solomon. He furnished himself with 1,000 women of his choice, who were always at his beck and call (1 Kings 11:3).

We can sum up Solomon’s endeavors with this simple observation: in Ecclesiastes 2:4-10, Solomon uses the words “me,” “myself,” “I,” or “mine” over thirty times. Solomon gave himself to himself in order to pursue the greatest pleasure and fulfillment he could find for himself!

ALL IS VANITY

It’s easy to identify other people’s idolatry. But our own idols often have a way of hiding from our soul-searching gaze. Tim Keller provides some insight to help identify our personal idols. Keller observes, “An idol is whatever you look at and say, in your heart of hearts, ‘If I have that, then I’ll feel my life has meaning, then I’ll know I have value, then I’ll feel significant and secure.’”

What has been occupying your thoughts, your ambitions, your affections lately?

Millions of people were waiting with great anticipation for the next iteration of the iPhone, although a new version is sure to come out next year and make this year’s obsolete. Others may not care a thing about the latest tech, but feel their life will surely be fulfilled if only they can get into the right school, win the state championship, get that next promotion, find the right person to marry, or . . .

From the man who had it all, tasted it all, and tried it all, comes this intensely disappointed testimony: “all is vanity.”

His experiences “under the sun,” or without God, are summed up with the single word vanity—emptiness. Solomon uses this word over thirty times in this single sermon. Vexation is used 4 times; folly 7 times. Solomon found life empty, frustrating, and foolish without the purpose and power of God.

After giving himself, with all his unparalleled skill and resources, to find happiness under the sun, Solomon comes to this tragic conclusion: “I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind” (Ecclesiastes 2:17).

His gaping void reminds me of an interview I came across several years ago with Halle Berry, an Academy Award-winning actress. When asked what if felt like to have so much success and beauty, Berry responded with indignation: “Beauty? Let me tell you something—being thought of as a beautiful woman has spared me nothing in life,” she said. “No heartache, no trouble. Love has been difficult. Beauty is essentially meaningless and it is always transitory.”

THE HAPPY LIFE

Ecclesiastes has been called a lesson from “the discipline of a divine education.” Solomon learned through bitter experience the same reality that Augustine came to also: “There is a joy which is not given to the ungodly, but to those who love Thee for Thine own sake, whose joy Thou Thyself art. And this is the happy life, to rejoice to Thee, of Thee, for Thee; this it is, and there is no other.”

Your house doesn’t really protect you. The food in your fridge won’t ultimately sustain your life. Your smartphone can’t make you truly wiser. In fact, no amount of family, friends, promotions, luxury cars, or philanthropic efforts will be able to fill the void in your eternal soul.

God, however, is everything your soul has been longing for, and more.

We often quote the human maxim, “Experience is the best teacher,” but Solomon reminds us this is emphatically not the case! The best teacher is the divine instruction of God’s Word, and it tells us of One who has come and who is even greater than Solomon.

Rather than giving himself to himself, Jesus Christ gave himself to death for sinners! And those, like Augustine, who love him for his own sake, find in him the joy never found by the ungodly.

Life with Christ, life in Christ—this is not life under the sun, but with the Son. This is the happy life . . . and there is no other (John 14:6)!

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Justin Huffman has pastored in the States for over 15 years, authored the “Daily Devotion” app (iTunes/Android) which now has over half a million downloads, and recently published a book with Day One: Grow: the Command to Ever-Expanding Joy. He has also written articles for For the Church, Servants of Grace, and Fathom Magazine. He blogs at justinhuffman.org.

Uncomfortable Holiness, and Why It's Essential for Christian Community

The bar was full of people, full of smoke, full of that loud, sustained decibel hum of alcohol-fueled chatter that makes shout-talking into someone’s ear necessary for a conversation. The music was bumping, full of profanity. At one point a few people were dancing on a table. Bursts of laughter and the occasional shattering of glass punctuated the noise. All manner of tobacco was being smoked: cigarettes, cigars, cigarillos, pipes. And almost everyone in the bar had just finished a day of sessions at a major Christian conference. I was a part of that scene, one of the evangelical revelers whose behavior was such that no observer could have distinguished us as believers in any holy God, in any “set apart” sense. Of course in the moment it was fun, joyful even, and we relished blending in with the bar crowd. But in retrospect I wish I’d contributed a better witness, living at least part of the call to “not be conformed to this world” (Rom. 12:2). I wish I’d been more mindful of how, even in a bar, I was called to be different, to let my light shine before others (Matt. 5:16). I came home from that conference and penned thoughts about the problematic desire for faith to “fit in” with the cool kids of the world.¹

Like many of my Christian peers who grew up in a rather moralistic, protective, separatist evangelicalism, I fell prey to the all-too-common pendulum problem in my twenties. I attended parties (and hosted some) with Christian college students and graduates where kegs, beer pong, sake bombs, and vomiting were among the evening’s amusements. I watched movies and TV shows with little filter for unsavory or explicit content. In my efforts to avoid legalism, I abused Christian liberty.² Because who wants to be prudish or lumped in with the hypocritical, holier-than-thou evangelicals so despised by society? No one.

But as uncomfortable as it is to embrace holiness and be noticeably different in the way we live in the world, it is essential for our vocation as the people of God.

WHY WE HATE HOLINESS

In today’s world, holy is the most offensive of all four-letter words. It’s far more acceptable to say, “My life is so messed up,” than it is to say, “I am striving to be holy.” For many, Christianity’s seeming obsession with holiness is one of its most distasteful qualities.

Why is holiness so reviled? One reason is simply that the pursuit of holiness also involves the acknowledgment of sin and the necessity of repentance. These are two words that are incredibly unfashionable: sin and repentance. In addition to implying that we are not good people, the words sin, repentance, and holiness conjure images of nuns with paddles, deceptively sweet (but kind of creepy) church ladies, and hypocritical pastors who decry the deviant sexual ethics of liberal America while they ravenously consume pornography behind closed doors.

Hypocrisy is a huge reason why we hate holiness. We’ve witnessed the inconsistencies of a “moral majority” that often failed morally, and fundamentalists who railed against the evils of pop culture while they perpetuated the evils of racism and sexism. We’ve seen too many people use the word holy while simultaneously ignoring the poor, condemning the homosexual, turning away the refugee, and covering up various forms of abuse.

For some nonbelievers, the idea that Christians are called to “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48) is naive but innocuous, so long as believers keep their holiness and sin talk to themselves. What is abhorrent is when Christian morality is felt to be imposed on others or suggested as the preferred program for human flourishing. One man’s morality may be OK for him, but it’s not OK to suggest it is right for another. This implies a holier-than-thou superiority, and nothing is worse than being holier than thou.

OUR WARINESS OF "WORKS"

Even devout Christians can be uncomfortable with the word holiness. Many Protestants are skeptical of too much emphasis on sanctification, for example, lest it morph into works-merited righteousness. But the history of God’s covenant relationship with his people has always been one of both God’s sufficient grace and his desire for our response of obedient living. In his biblical theology of covenantal discipleship, Jonathan Lunde argues for a continuity between the old and new covenants in terms of the holy living that, though not understood to merit the covenantal blessings, is nevertheless expected of God’s people:

Though always established in grace, each biblical covenant also includes demands of righteousness from those who trust in [God’s] faithfulness to fulfill his covenantal promises. This means that covenantal grace never diminishes the covenantal demand of righteousness—righteousness that flows out of covenantal faith. As a result, faith and works of obedience will always be found in God’s true covenant partners.³

Jesus and Paul do not dispense with the importance of holiness for God’s people in the new covenant. In some cases Jesus actually calls his disciples to even higher standards than the Mosaic covenant, for example in the area of divorce (Mark 10:2–12), the expansion of the murder prohibition to also include anger (Matt. 5:21–26), or the elevation of the prohibition on adultery to also include lust (Matt. 5:27–30). But why? Jesus is not upping the expectation of righteousness to make it harder for people to enter his kingdom. No, salvation is by grace through faith, not of our own works (Eph. 2:8–9). Jesus is raising the bar because he wants his people to be noticeably different, a light in the dark world. It’s difference for the sake of mission.

THE DIFFERENCE OUR DIFFERENCE MAKES

Ever since Abraham was called by God to leave his homeland to found a new nation in an unknown land (Genesis 12), uncomfortable obedience and uncomfortable difference have been a part of what it means to be the people of God. Why? Because God is perfectly holy. “Be holy, for I am holy” (Lev. 11:45; 19:2; 20:7; 21:8). God’s holiness is no joke. It’s why the Israelites crossing the Jordan were instructed to stay a thousand yards or more away from the ark (Josh. 3:4); it’s why Uzzah died for touching the ark (2 Sam. 6:6–7). It’s why the entire book of Leviticus is devoted to holy worship (chapters 1–10) and holy living (chapters 11–27). The minutiae of holiness in the Old Testament may seem a bit bizarre to us today, but that was sort of the point. Holiness is difference.

It is strange. But not for the sake of strangeness. For the sake of Yahweh.

The theme of holiness and separation is reiterated in the New Testament: “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9). Jesus also uses the light imagery when he says his followers are to be “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world” (Matt. 5:13–14). As Lunde notes, “Whatever Jesus intends by the images of ‘salt’ and ‘light,’ it is clear that his followers are to be different from those surrounding them in the world.” Salt was used in the ancient world for flavoring, for fertilizer, and as a preservative, in each case bringing something different and beneficial to the substance around it. Light also brings something different and beneficial to its surroundings (darkness).⁴ Like a lamp in a dark house, our light shines for a purpose: “So that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16).

For Christians, there is a discomfort in being different, but it is for a missional purpose. It is for the sake of the world. As Rod Dreher notes in The Benedict Option, embracing a countercultural identity as Christians is not about our survival as much as our task to be a light to the world: “We cannot give the world what we do not have.”⁵

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING COUNTER-CULTURAL (IN GOOD WAYS)

As historians of the early church have pointed out recently, the earliest Christians recognized the vital importance of habits and behavior that were starkly different from those of the surrounding culture. For them, more important than believing in Christian virtues was living them, “embodying the Christian good news, bearing it in their bodies and actions, living the message visibly and forcefully so that outsiders would see what the Christians were about and, ideally, would be attracted to join them.”⁶

But our pursuit of holiness is also an act of worship, a response to God’s grace. The opening of Romans 12 calls Christians to “present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (v. 1). And the next verse underscores the connection between holiness and difference: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (v. 2).

“Do not be conformed to this world” is one of the most grating verses of the Bible to many modern ears, yet it is not just a Pauline one-off. The nonconforming set-apartness of God’s people is a major theme of the whole Bible. But it’s an unpopular idea these days, both for Christians who wish they could blend in and for nonbelievers pressuring religious institutions to compromise on their different-ness (for example in the recent push for Christian colleges to abandon their policies on sexual conduct, or for Christian business owners to provide services or insurance policies that compromise their beliefs).

But the logic of groups necessitates difference. In order for any group—whether a Jewish seminary, an African-American college fraternity, or an LGBT advocacy organization—to have a meaningful identity and flourish in its function, it must have boundaries. If a Jewish seminary started enrolling radical, Jew-hating Muslims, or if an African-American fraternity allowed white women to join, or if GLAAD hired James Dobson as its new president, these groups would cease to have any meaningful differentiation. In the same way, a Christian college or church ceases to be relevant when it abandons its conviction-driven distinctions to fit the prevailing winds of politics and culture. Pluralism only makes sense if individual groups are allowed to be themselves. When boundaries are blurred and set-apartness is lost, everyone loses.

FROM MORAL MAJORITY TO PROPHETIC MINORITY

This is why Christian difference matters. When we blend in, when our boundaries are blurred or disappear altogether, our light in the darkness fades. Our salt loses its saltiness. This is why the shift Russell Moore describes in Onward, from an evangelical “moral majority” to a “prophetic minority,” is a good thing. It doesn’t mean we disengage from culture or build impenetrable, dialogue-averse walls around our institutions. What it means is engaged alienation: “a Christianity that preserves the distinctiveness of our gospel while not retreating from our callings as neighbors, and friends, and citizens.”⁷

The more Christians look, talk, act, and believe like the culture around us, the less interested others will be in what we have to offer. Why would anyone go to church and bother with Christianity if it is only a replica of the sorts of things they can find at the mall, movie theater, community center, or nightclub? It is the different-ness of the gospel, not its hipness, that changes lives and transforms the world.

1. Those written thoughts eventually became my book Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2010). ↩︎
2. I explored the healthy balance between the two extremes in Brett McCracken, Gray Matters: Navigating the Space between Legalism and Liberty (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2013). ↩︎
3. Jonathan Lunde, Following Jesus, the Servant King: A Biblical Theology of Covenantal Discipleship (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010), 50. ↩︎
4. Ibid., 172–73. ↩︎
5. Rod Dreher, The Benedict Option: A Strategy for Christians in a Post-Christian Nation (New York: Sentinel, 2017), 19. ↩︎
6. Alan Kreider, The Patient Ferment of the Early Church: The Improbable Rise of Christianity in the Roman Empire (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2016), 13. Kreider illustrates this focus on behavior and habitus by quoting early church leaders like Cyprian: “We know virtues by their practice rather than through boasting of them; we do not speak great things but we live them” (p. 13). Or Lactantius on a non-coercive missional strategy that is focused on embodying truth: “We use no guile ourselves, though they complain we do; instead, we teach, we show, we demonstrate” (p. 34). ↩︎
7. Russell Moore, Onward: Engaging the Culture without Losing the Gospel (Nashville: B&H, 2015), 8. ↩︎

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Content taken from Uncomfortable: The Awkward and Essential Challenge of Christian Community by Brett McCracken, ©2017. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

Brett McCracken is the managing editor of Biola Magazine at Biola University and the author of Hipster Christianity and Gray Matters. He writes regularly for the Gospel Coalition website, Christianity Today, Relevant, and his website, BrettMcCracken.com.

God’s Sovereignty Prepares Us to Proclaim Hope

Matthew 28:19 and 1 Peter 3:15 are two verses that have launched a thousand personal evangelism programs. I’ve participated in enough of them to learn I’m terrible at almost all of them. But a recent encounter on an airplane reminded me that when we take an overly prescriptive approach to disciple-making conversations, we fall prey to the mistaken belief that they’re more complicated or difficult than what God actually has in mind. I was flying home after attending a business planning conference related to my consulting work. I had arrived at the conference full of ideas and optimism about all I was going to accomplish. But I was leaving it demoralized and full of doubt. I stood in line waiting to board my flight home, wondering what God had intended the four days away from my family to be for.

THAT AWKWARD MOMENT WHEN YOU TELL YOUR SEAT-MATE YOU’RE A CHRISTIAN

I exchanged the usual pleasantries with my seat neighbor as you do when you’re trying to deftly maneuver your person and your stuff into your allotted space without violating theirs. We continued our small talk as the plane took off.

Fred and I had many things in common. We were both married and raising kids. We were both self-employed, navigating circumstances where hopes and expectations were exceeding actual outcomes. Almost without thinking, I steered the conversation towards the spiritual roots of our collective frustration, describing myself as a Christian who was wrestling deeply with Silicon Valley’s determination to define humanity in merely technological terms when we were created to be so much more.

Fred’s posture shifted at my statement. “I’m  a Christian too!” he said, with hushed excitement. “ I go to the evening service at this little Episcopal church where there are, like, twelve other people. I’ve been reading my Bible every day for the past fifteen months. I just finished the book of Colossians (he pronounced it “Colloh-see-ans”), and now I’m reading the Old Testament. But I’m having a hard time sorting all the names and events out—it’s complicated!”

MORE THAN A “CHANCE” ENCOUNTER

For the next ninety minutes, until we were on the ground and getting ready to deplane, Fred and I talked nonstop about God, the Bible, and the gospel. Our conversation weaved its way through topics like:

• Luke 24:26 and how the most helpful way to read through the Old Testament is to find how people and events point to Jesus.
• Boaz as a case study, not just as a practical story about how to be a better businessperson in a broken world, but how the stories of where he’d come from, what he did, and who his descendants became were an integral part of, and pointer to the story of, his greatest descendant, Jesus Christ.
• The differences between Genesis one and two and how humans are unique in all of God’s creative work because of the manner in which humans were made, and that Adam was the real person who ushered in creation’s greatest problem, just as Jesus is a real person who came to redeem and restore it.
• The thief on the cross, who died knowing the most important thing (that we’re all—to quote Fred, “dirty wretches who need forgiveness”), and the blessing we have in pursuing the implications of what that means for us (otherwise known as regeneration, justification, and sanctification—for a lot of reasons, I chose not to use those words).
• Bible translations and study Bibles, including how many there are, and how to discern what’s inspired (the text) and what’s not (the notes).
• What Bible reading actually is; not just intellectual study, but active listening to the voice of God speaking to us, and giving us the power to understand and respond to it. How Fred could help his wife, who was slightly behind him in his journey, to hear God’s voice as he shared with her all that the Bible was helping him to understand.

Engrossed in our conversation, the jolt of the plane’s wheels bouncing down on the tarmac startled us both. “You’re like a library of knowledge!” Fred exclaimed as we started to gather our things. “It’s like God sent you to me just to answer all these questions!”

I demurred with a laugh at the first half of his statement, but wholeheartedly agreed about the second. I hadn’t shared too many details about the immediate circumstances that had brought me to the seat next to his on the airplane.

After we said our goodbye’s and God-bless-you’s, I walked through the terminal to catch my connecting flight home. My thoughts turned to the broader circumstances of my own journey of faith, and how so much of my personal study from the last several years, and even months,  found its way into our conversation, and how God brought all of it together for that single conversation.

PREPARING TO PROCLAIM MY FAITH

As a fifth generation Reformed Baptist pastor’s kid and Bible college graduate, I’d been steeped in the vocabulary and grammar of theology and doctrine practically from birth. But God had used marriage and the challenges of motherhood to first upend everything I thought I knew about the gospel, then lay it all back down so it finally moved from my mind to my heart, and then to the rest of me. I read book after book to make sense of what God was doing in me, and I wrote to work it into my heart and out into my everyday life.

I read John Piper’s Finally Alive and David Needham’s book Birthright , which together helped me understand the glorious “on-the-ground” implications of what had formerly been dusty ideas. Then The Ongoing Feast by Arthur A. Just, Jr. left me with a particular and permanent love for Luke twenty-four as a launch point for a Christocentric Old Testament hermeneutic.

As my daughters grew out of their toddler years and into girlhood, I became interested in the idea of biblical womanhood. Hannah Anderson’s Made for More coached me in the topic, and her writing, along with Wendy Alsup’s, helped me navigate the twists and turns of the biblical womanhood conversation (along with a lot of processing through my own writing about the imago dei, gender, and Genesis one through three).

This summer, my pastor lead a group of women, including myself, through a ten-week class on principles of Biblical hermeneutics using the book of Ruth and Paul Miller’s layperson-level commentary as our texts. So I studied more, and I wrote more.

Many Christians I respect would have invested the time spent shuffling my way onto the plane that day in a more sanctified way than I had, perhaps praying for who they were going meet and for opportunities to share the gospel. I was in a far less holy frame of mind. I’d been turning over some things I learned through my study of Ruth, and indulging my mind in a kind of holy pity-party over some perceived slights I’d experienced by way of several male colleagues during my meetings. I was far from the frame of mind that would be preparing for a “Philip and the Ethiopian”-style conversation with a stranger.

And yet God had been preparing me for it. For years.

THE CONTEXT OF GODLY PREPARATION

We often forget that the context in which Peter expects us to be asked about our hope in Christ isn’t a shopping mall or a front porch, but suffering. I wasn’t walking onto that plane having experienced anything like real suffering—just some slights that may not even have been intentional. Yet hope was the last thing I was feeling.

But in the process of shoring up a brother’s growing faith, God gave me renewed hope for my own. Not because I had any evidence that my circumstances were going to change, but by reminding me that the work he was doing in Fred, and thew work he was doing in and through me as we talked, was of far greater and lasting significance than any earthly work I thought I had been traveling to accomplish.

Fred wasn’t the kind of conversation partner I’d been taught to think of in Matthew 28:19 seminars. He was already committed to being a disciple of Jesus. But his commitment was generating some questions—really important ones—and he needed help to uncover the answers from God’s Word for himself. And in God’s sovereignty and timing, that’s what God helped me to offer him.

We often spend our daily time in God’s Word focused on how it will work in us, or in the families and friends closest to us. But in our study and in our prayers, we can also ask God to work through his Word in us, so that, whenever and however the time comes, we’ll be ready to take what he’s taught us in the past to bring the hope of Christ to someone in the here and now.

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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. 

How Thrill Seeking Relates to Disciple-Making

Imagine this: a gorgeous, snow-capped mountain overlooking a range of other peaks covered with pine trees, carrying a magical sense of awe and wonder. Perhaps a bird soars effortlessly in the background, and a girl sits at the peak, snuggled under an Aztec blanket holding a coffee mug. Have you seen this photo? I have too. Probably fifteen different times. The baffling thing is how it continues to evoke a sense of longing within my soul every time I see it. I’m drawn to nature in a way that makes my heart beat faster, my soul sing louder, and my flesh desire deeper.

I’m not alone in this. My generation is enthralled with traveling the world, fighting for meaningful causes, and seeking fulfillment in adventure.

ETERNITY IS WRITTEN ON OUR HEARTS

This desire has been intentionally and beautifully stirred inside of us.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 sings in my soul as I reflect on our unattainable longing for more.

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

Instead of letting the Lord gloriously reveal himself to us, though, we’ve grabbed onto our ideas of eternity and created realities out of them. We do it in church, at universities, even in business.

And quite honestly, I’m overwhelmed with how many movements, upgrades, and “once in a lifetime” experiences exist. The need for everything to be a necessity, a guarantee for life-changing transformation, is exhausting and unrealistic.

Have we left behind patience for God’s movement and instead created our own?

REACHING BEYOND OUR GRASP

Our longing for more may be leading us to build up experiences so high and mighty that we're trying to reach God's height.

I’m not setting myself against this persona. I can very much be classified with the majority in this. But the difference I hope to make is not to kill dreams, but to purify and purpose them.

Our churches and ministries are either full or void of young people, and the ones that are there are probably consumed with this zeal for adventure. What do we do with them? As disciple-makers, we should learn to come alongside this culture (inside and outside the church) and witness for Jesus.

More specifically, we must find ways to challenge the spirit of worshiping creation over Creator. The photo of the girl on the mountain stirs a desire to go see the mountains, but also to feel that wonder and awe. We’re not just idolizing the physical mountain; we’re idolizing experience and the emotional thrill that comes with it.

A recognition of the object of our worship would actually refocus how we seek fulfillment. In this we are led to redefine what fulfillment is, and discover the omnipresence of God.

I remember hearing the term “mountain top experience” in youth group, and at summer camp we would come home with  “camp high." The term was used to describe the heightened awareness of God at work within us. Every time I heard it, though, I was a little frightened that I may lose track of his presence. We all tried to doubt and dismiss the idea until a few weeks later we were left slightly disappointed with the normalcy of life.

It’s natural to elevate a time or experience that’s especially impactful to our spiritual well-being. It’s not good to expect that every day.

COMING DOWN FROM THE MOUNTAIN TOP EXPERIENCE

In my younger years, I think the crashing reality of this mountain top experience was helpful in encouraging me to build healthy spiritual disciplines. I was drawn to pray for God to not leave me, I was inspired to remind myself of his character through his Word, and I was provoked to ask older and wiser friends how they would deal with this disappointment. The cultivation of these very necessary Christian principles showed me how my faith could be sustainable in normal life.

As much as I wanted to live at summer camp forever, I knew that was not a possibility. The daily search for Jesus was attainable, however, and that sense of awe and hunger for more helped train me to look for Jesus in my local surroundings. This has been so vital to my faith that I don’t know if I’d still be walking with him had I not learned.

However, it still cost me disappointment when I saw people growing faster or deeper than I was. It also cost me a lot of time that was seemingly worthless at the moment. But the most costly was the deep grief I felt when others didn’t understand what God was doing inside me. I haven’t grown out of these costs, and I still have to endure their price as I walk forward in faith.

I’ve learned, though, that daily and weekly practices like Bible reading, prayer, and living in community with the church are some of the most influential tools in carving out intimacy with Jesus. The costs revealed that no community, mentor, or experience compares to knowing Jesus. And I know him better because of my daily practice of acknowledging his presence.

MY SPIRITUAL HIGH IN THE LAND DOWN UNDER

I spent a short time of my life living in Australia. My season there was marked by the deepest union I’ve ever felt with God. I could physically see mountains, but I also felt that spiritual high I referred to earlier.

I remember one night I was praying and reading Scripture on my bed, and I noticed a warm glow outside my window. I walked over to the window and peered out into the darkness. Flickering stars covered the sky with dazzling light while the moon was a perfect crescent shape framing the sky, producing a remarkable glow. My breath was literally knocked out of me, and warm tears blurred the scene in my eyes.

My physical response was weak compared to the way this moment impacted me spiritually and emotionally, however. One of my greatest friends always quotes Psalm 19:1 which reads, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.” I couldn’t ignore the powerful declaration of God’s glory because my eyes were witnessing it in the skies. This verse came to life.

God is the most magnificent artist, and his earth manifests the work of his hands. When we witness this, our hearts are moved to worship with an incomparable fullness. It’s a heavenly fullness, one spoken of in Ecclesiastes 3:11.

WHAT WE CAN LEARN FROM ELIJAH’S MOUNTAIN TOP HIGH

This same heavenly fullness was experienced by Elijah when he was on a mountain.

And he said, “Go out and stand on the mount before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. —1 Kings 19:11-12

Elijah experienced the mountain top high, am I right? This movement of God is not to be downplayed or ignored. When the world around us is quiet enough for us to listen, we become divinely aware of God. It’s in these moments that we hear the Spirit gently speak to our hearts, and remind us that we have been created for eternity.

The peak of the mountain doesn’t compare to the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s a sliver of a glimpse, but it can’t be manufactured by mankind. We can’t stir the Holy Spirit with our overdone methods and strategies; we have to trust and remember that the Spirit is who stirs us.

HOW THRILL SEEKING RELATES TO DISCIPLE-MAKING

This wave of thrill seeking, adventure, and passion to change the world is moving people to do more than they ever have. It’s challenging people to venture outside their comfort zones and to think beyond their normal capacity. It’s a trend inside and outside the church, and it has the potential to be incredibly helpful to both.

However, if we aren’t producing healthy, loving, disciple-makers then these sentiments and actions will only fall flat. Our first and foremost pursuit must be loving God. Things will begin to crumble if we aren’t intentional about this first pursuit. It can’t be the spiritual high, new experiences, or even service. The fruit of our labor is only a result of loving God with all our heart, soul, and mind. That’s where fulfillment is found, and that’s where transformation begins.

Ask those you disciple, your community, and yourself questions like these:

• If I was called to invest in one community for a decade, would that be enough?
• What do you spend most of your time praying for/ about?
• How do you define fulfillment? Do the ways you find fulfillment point you to God, or do they simply leave you wanting to chase another experience?

We are created to seek fulfillment in God, not this world or the experiences it has to offer. When we become vulnerable to the incompleteness of us, we become aware of the very complete presence of God.

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Chelsea Vaughn (@chelsea725) is currently living in Nashville but has spent time in Texas, Thailand, and Australia. Obviously travel is a passion, along with hours in the kitchen or across the table from good friends. She does freelance writing, editing, and speaking for various organizations and non-profits. She hopes to spend her life using her gift for communication to reach culture and communities with the love of Jesus. You can read all of Chelsea’s article here.

The Baffling Call of God

August 5, 2014 was the darkest Tuesday of my life. My mother, critically ill with the Ebola virus, was returning from Liberia to the United States for treatment that we hoped would save her life. The previous ten days had been a whirlwind of emotion. On July 26 my father had called late in the evening from Monrovia to say that mom had contracted the disease. She was serving as a nurse’s assistant in the isolation unit of a mission organization hospital when she became ill. Since Ebola was becoming an epidemic in West Africa, international news media quickly inundated us with requests for information regarding my mother’s condition and the family’s response.

I had placed it in my mind that mom would—like so many overseas missionaries before her—lose her life to a foreign disease. We’d been told there was no possibility of transport from the small house where she was being isolated to a first-world medical facility capable of better fighting the virus.

So it was a great surprise when we learned that she would be medically evacuated to Emory University Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia. She was due to arrive on August 5.

THE RIGHT WORDS FOR THE MOMENT

As my father and I spoke during the time between mom’s diagnosis and her transport and arrival in Atlanta, he shared how timely and encouraging Oswald Chambers’s devotional had been to him. He would read My Utmost For His Highest outside the bedroom window of the house where my mother was growing more and more ill, and it would sustain his heart through the gravity of the situation.

When my brother and I arrived in Atlanta we too began to read Chambers’s meditations along with some close friends. On the morning of August 5, as we awaited mom’s nationally televised arrival and transport to Emory, we read the entry titled “The Baffling Call of God.”

Confident of God’s call on my parents to serve Him in Africa, I was baffled by what they were enduring for the sake of the needy there. Furthermore, as I dealt with my own weary and broken heart, I was baffled at what God was doing in my own life. None of it made sense.

It all seemed like failure—and the conclusion of the matter would be death. I could relate to the disciples when they heard about Jesus’s mission to go to the cross: “They understood none of these things” (Luke 18:34 ESV).

THE FOOLISHNESS OF THE CROSS

We live in a cause-and-effect world, so trials and suffering bear down on us in ways we would never imagine. We desire—we insist on—lives that are clear-cut and explainable. We hate it when circumstances we can't control threaten our comfort and security.

When hardships, suffering, and trials hit our lives, our faith can be jolted deeply. It’s not uncommon for sufferers to bellow out to God, “Why?” And yet Jesus “led every one of [His disciples] to the place where their hearts were broken.”

Suffering feels like failure, like complete and utter defeat. The world calls it foolish.

From a certain perspective Jesus’s life looks a lot like this. As he left his family and carpentry trade at the age of thirty to begin an itinerant preaching ministry, he confused his family. They heard the reports of His ministry and miracles and concluded, “He is out of his mind” (Mark 3:21).

He labored for the kingdom of God without a place to lay his head or call home (Luke 9:58). His teaching became difficult to understand, and the number of those who followed him dwindled (John 6:66). As he confronted the religious establishment, he created powerful enemies who sought to have him killed (Matthew 26:59). One of His own friends and followers betrayed him for a small sum of money. He was slandered, beaten, abused, mocked, rejected, unjustly tried, and ultimately executed as a criminal, in shame and disgrace.

The cross is foolishness if the “Savior of the world” hangs dead upon it.

FOOLISHNESS TURNED TRIUMPHANT WISDOM

Yet, from another perspective—the biblical one—we can see our sufferings in another light. The apostle Paul called the cross the wisdom and power of God. He saw from God’s standpoint a “tremendous triumph.”

Through the suffering and death of Jesus we have one who can stand in our place for our sins—and take them away. We have one who can mediate on our behalf and reconcile us to God. We have one who, by laying down His own life, won righteousness, peace, and life for us. “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Following the utter defeat of the cross, the powerful resurrection of Jesus on the third day verified, vindicated, and validated all the suffering he endured for our sake. “But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified” (Hebrews 10:12–14 ESV).

BAFFLED BY OUR SUFFERING

This leads us back to our own trials. The Scriptures show us we should not be surprised by “the fiery ordeal” (1 Peter 4:12). The Christian life is one that includes persecution (2 Timothy 3:12). We can expect difficulty and trials as marks of discipline from the hand of a heavenly Father who loves us and longs for us to be mature and complete (James 1:2–4, Hebrews 12:5–11). Suffering is a mark of the Christian life.

Still, like so many in the world today, we want to know the reason behind it.

But the gospel allows us to move ahead without having all the answers, without knowing perfectly the purposes of God. This doesn’t mean we can’t ask the "why" question or ponder the bigger picture; we simply become, as Chambers states, “less inclined to say—‘Now why did God allow this and that?’”

If we see the goodness of God in the seemingly foolish decision to send his Son to die on our behalf, then we can embrace his call to what may feel like an “unmitigated disaster” in our own lives.

CAN I TRUST GOD?

This is what the whole of faith truly boils down to: Can I trust God?

If we affirm that God is trustworthy and does all things for His glory and our good, then we can live with an unparalleled freedom to receive both the triumphs and the trials of life from his gracious hand. If all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28), then we are liberated from having to hold all the answers in our own hands.

The baffling call of God, although it can bewilder us, is ultimately a safe and rewarding call. It’s a release from the ever-present desire to control and maintain all things by our own power. It means I can be a child, safe in the hands of an omnipotent and gracious God, and he will lead me through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4).

Whatever God may have planned for my future—whatever he may have planned for your future—he is working out his purposes.

THE LEISURELINESS OF FAITH

As the air ambulance carrying my mother landed at Dobbins Air Reserve Base outside Atlanta on August 5, I could only wonder at the baffling call of God. The aims of God’s work and call in the life of my family were not clear. The anguish and turmoil of our hearts swelled as we became a public spectacle of suffering. My parents’ mission to Liberia looked like an utter failure.

And yet, in God’s hands and by his power, we could trust his great purposes. As a child of God I could cling to his mercy and ask for his grace in my pain. I could trust “the wits and the wisdom” of God, to use Chambers’s phrase, that ultimately everything would be okay—even if that meant my mother’s death.

I could even trust God’s baffling call when mom’s health made an incredible turn for the better. I could rest with joy when God healed her of the terrible Ebola virus. I could trust his providence when he called my parents back to Liberia—back to the mission—even when others might argue the cost was too great.

I can walk with a leisureliness of faith because what looks like failure to the world is, from God’s perspective, the fragrance of life.

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Taken from Utmost Ongoing: Reflections on the Legacy of Oswald Chambers, © 2017 by Discovery House. Used by permission of Discovery House, Grand Rapids, MI 49501. All rights reserved.

Jeremy Writebol is the Executive Director of GCD. He is the husband of Stephanie and father of Allison and Ethan. He serves as the lead campus pastor of Woodside Bible Church in Plymouth, MI. He is also an author and contributor to several GCD Books including everPresent and Make, Mature, Multiply. He writes personally at jwritebol.net.

You can read all of Jeremy’s articles here.

How Foster Care and Adoption Shine the Light of the Gospel

It was 2:30 a.m. when we received the call. After months of training, house inspections, CPR certifications, and background checks, we were finally approved to be foster parents. Half asleep, my wife answered the phone. A five-year-old girl had been rescued from the hospital and was in need of a home, so we agreed to take her. About an hour later, a little girl with pink pajamas and a teddy bear was fast asleep in our living room. My wife and I gazed with a nervous excitement at this child who was now in our care. Had we made the right choice? Were we really qualified? All we knew was this little soul had been through a lot. She was exhausted. She missed her mom. She needed to be loved. She needed Jesus.

Oftentimes, the most meaningful things in life are also the most difficult, and caring for children in need is no exception. There are long and challenging days. Sometimes I’m tempted to quit and just go back to “normal.” Not having this child might make the day somewhat easier, but what a great opportunity to show the love of Christ to a family in need.

FOSTERING AND ADOPTION REFLECT THE GOSPEL

Is it hard to get attached to a child only to have them removed a few months later? Absolutely, but the same Christ who gave his life for others also empowers us to do the same. On my own, I lack the strength to be a foster parent, and often it’s more than I can bear. “Perfect” foster parents simply do not exist.

However, the Lord’s grace is sufficient for each day, and he won’t ask us to do something he doesn’t equip us to do. He takes unqualified, imperfect people and uses them for his glory.

Caring for orphans through foster care and adoption is such a beautiful picture of the gospel that Scripture often uses it as an illustration. “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15). In Ephesians 1:5, we are told that God “predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will.”

Basically, you and I were born in sin, an enemy of God, thus an object of his wrath. God was under no obligation to do anything for us and could have let us slide into eternity without him. Yet, even though he didn’t have to, he called a people to himself. John 1:12 states, “But to all who did received him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God…” When God adopts us, it is at that point we can call ourselves children of God. He, by his grace, has brought us into his family. Now, we can call him Father.

FOSTERING AND ADOPTION ARE FRUITS OF THE GOSPEL

Not only is foster care and adoption a picture of the gospel, it is also a fruit of the gospel. When the gospel changes a person’s heart, that person now looks not to their own needs, but to the needs of others. We begin to see the needs of those around us and we are burdened by them. James 1:27 says it like this: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction…” Fostering and adopting are one of the many avenues we have to care for orphans.

A CHANCE TO SHINE THE LIGHT OF CHRIST

There are many children in need of a home. Some need permanent homes while others need temporary homes. This is an area where the church can make a difference in their community and shine the light of Jesus Christ. David Platt, president of International Mission Board and a former pastor in Alabama, tells this story:

"One day I called up the Department of Human Resources in Shelby County, Alabama, where our church is located, and asked, 'How many families would you need in order to take care of all the foster and adoption needs that we have in our county?'

The woman I was talking to laughed.

I said, 'No, really, if a miracle were to take place, how many families would be sufficient to cover all the different needs you have?'

She replied, 'It would be a miracle if we had 150 more families.'

When I shared this conversation with our church, over 160 families signed up to help with foster care and adoption. We don’t want even one child in our county to be without a loving home. It’s not the way of the American Dream. It doesn’t add to our comfort, prosperity, or ease. But we are discovering the indescribable joy of sacrificial love for others, and along the way we are learning more about the inexpressible wonder of God’s sacrificial love for us."

What a testimony of God’s people! What a picture of the power of the gospel! This is the church being the church. Can you imagine the impact to the surrounding community? Not only were they ministering to those children, they were ministering to all in that county who had heard that there were no more children in the system.

TEN WAYS YOU CAN GET INVOLVED

Are you willing to pray about your role in helping the children in your areas? Not everyone will be able to invite a child into their home, but we all can contribute. Here are some ways you can be involved:

• Pray
• Become a foster parent
• Adopt a child through the Foster Care System
• Encourage those who are fostering/adopting
• Provide Respite Care (those who are trained and certified to babysit)
• Financially support and/or raise funds
• Help raise awareness of those in need
• Become a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) volunteer
• Volunteer on a local Foster Care Review Board
• Talk with the local schools about needs of enrolled foster children

Would you consider where you might be willing to help? Would you commit to do something, no matter how small it may seem? Yes, it may require sacrifice. Yes, it could be difficult. And yes, you will likely get attached. But, that’s what it means to minister to others.

We die to ourselves so that others might live, just like our Savior.

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James Williams has served as an Associate Pastor at FBC Atlanta, TX for four years. He is married to Jenny and they currently have four children in their home (three biological, one in foster care). He is in the dissertation stage of a PhD in Systematic Theology. You can follow James on Twitter or his church's blog where he writes regularly.

Be Like Me: Discipleship's Roots in the Rabbinic Tradition

The last words of Jesus contained the command to “make disciples” (Matthew 28:19). The implication of this command is multiplication; followers of Jesus are expected to make new disciples. Christians today are descendants of disciples who made disciples. But how many churchgoers have been exposed to an intentional discipleship process? How many church leaders have an actual plan for making disciples? Or do many of us just stumble into it? Is there a model we can follow?

A CLOSER WALK

After I made a public confession of faith in Jesus, my youth minister would try to meet for lunch several times a month, go through a book study, and discuss what we learned.

But the thing I remember most was him pushing me toward a closer walk with Jesus. Teaching me how he applied Scripture to his life; how he was attempting to live like Christ.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t ready for anything deeper at the time; I was too immature. But over time, those lessons caught up to me.

A few years later, one of my pastors and his wife spent significant time with me. I saw them raise their kids and shepherd a church. Some of the lessons I learned previously were being modeled on a deeper level.

During this time I began to sense a calling to ministry, and they helped guide that call. That pastor also gave me my first full-time church position, and I joined his staff in Texas.

Even as a pastor, he continued to disciple me, though I don’t think we ever called it that. We spent time together and I learned how to shepherd people through his example, and by going along with him as he did it.

At this church, I began a friendship with a young man in our college ministry. He was still faithful while many of his friends were away at school or had dropped out of church.

We started working out together in my garage. This went on for several years before I realized it was discipleship.

He would see me interact with my family, talk about church life, talk about his work and his vocational call. I didn’t even see it as discipleship until another staff member asked what material we were working through in our discipleship meetings.

We weren’t working through any material, just sharing our lives. Our meetings expanded to include another young man and soon there were three or four of us. I had the privilege of sharing life with these young men over the last three years I was at the church. These relationships have even extended over ten years and 500 miles. What I discovered is that this informal plan of discipleship is connected to the models we are given in the New Testament.

LIVED GOSPEL TRADITION

I recently re-read a little book, The Origins of the Gospel Traditions by Birger Gerhardsson, a distillation of two of his earlier works. He discusses how rabbis would pass down their teachings to their students and how faithful these students were to commit them to memory.

As I was reading, I noticed how the process of discipleship has been passed down from the rabbis through Jesus and Paul; there is much we can learn from this process.

The first five books of the Bible are known as the Torah in Hebrew. Torah means “instruction.” Great importance was given to the study of the laws and commands of the Torah.

To learn the Torah one must go to a teacher. Students would then flock around teachers. Such a group became something of an extended family. The teacher was the spiritual father, the students his spiritual children.

They spent time with him, followed him, and served him. Students would learn much of the tradition by listening—to their teacher and his more advanced students.

They learned by posing questions and making contributions of their own within the bounds prescribed by modesty and etiquette. But they also learned a great deal by simply observing: with attentive eyes, they saw all the teacher did, then proceeded to imitate him. The Torah is above all a holy, authoritative attitude toward life. Students can then learn by simply watching and imitating those who are educated.

The Talmud is the collection of the exposition of the Torah by the great rabbis of Judaism. In the Talmud ,the teachings of the great rabbis were preserved, but so were their actions: “I saw rabbi so-and-so do thus and so.”

The rabbinical tradition preserved examples of how bright and eager students followed their teachers’ actions even in the most private situations, motivated by the belief that “this has to do with Torah, and I want to learn!” This includes a humorous story of students hiding in a rabbi’s bedroom because they wanted to learn the Torah in that “situation.”

TORCHES LIGHTING TORCHES

Seeking to preserve their teachings on the Torah, the rabbis were not only interested in what Gerhardsson calls the “cramming and mechanical recitation” of their teaching. They were very conscious of the importance of comprehending and personally applying what had been impressed upon one’s mind. For this reason they carried on an energetic struggle against lifeless knowledge.

According to the rabbis, a disciple shouldn’t be a dead receptacle for received tradition. Rather, a student should enter into a discipleship relationship so that he or she understands and is in agreement with it. Only that way can they actually live according to it, be a faithful steward of it, and pass it on to others in an infectious way.

A living bearer of the tradition is to be like a torch that has been lit by an older torch, in order that it might itself light others.

Paul picks up this mantle of rabbinic discipleship, seeing himself as a spiritual father to those who have been won for the gospel (1 Corinthians 4:17; Philemon 10). He encourages his congregations to be imitators of him in all respects, even as he himself is an imitator of Christ (1 Corinthians 4:16, 11:1; 1 Thessalonians 1:6; 2 Thessalonians 3:7).

The life of imitation comes into being when obedient disciples receive (and pattern their lives according to) the instruction of their teacher. After his admonishment to “be imitators of me,” Paul follows with this statement:

“For this reason I am sending to you Timothy… He will remind you of my way of life in Christ Jesus, which agrees with what I teach everywhere in every church” (1 Corinthians 4:17).

When Paul speaks of “my ways” he is referring to patterns of his life and teachings. Imitating Paul means receiving and living according to the teaching he proclaimed in all his congregations. Paul isn’t just passing down oral or written teaching, but the very way he lives.

We see this fleshed out even more in Philippians 4:9: “Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice.”

The Philippians were even told to look in their own community for imitators of Paul: “Join with others in following my example, brothers, and take note of those who live according to the pattern we gave you” (Philippians 3:17).

Paul is passing down a tradition of rabbinic discipleship. Just as the rabbis gathered students and passed on both instruction in the Torah and a lifestyle that exemplifies the Torah, Paul exhorts his followers to not only hold fast to his teaching, but to imitate his lifestyle as well.

BE LIKE ME

We see that for the rabbis and Paul, discipleship is not a program or a book study to take someone through, but an opportunity to live out their teaching (in Paul’s case, the gospel) in front of students, encouraging them to follow along. It might seem deeply personal and time-consuming, but it is the model we have been given.

While I was sharing life with these young men, I was tempted to feel bad because we didn’t go through organized study material. But we were already involved in Sunday School, corporate worship, and other activities.

Instead, our discipleship was allowing them to observe me applying the lessons of Scripture to my life and to speak into issues in their lives.

If you are walking with someone who is not currently involved in any kind of Bible instruction, by all means, incorporate that. But more importantly, let your people see how you apply those lessons to your life.

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Bill Victor works for the Missouri Baptist Convention as a team member of the Making Disciples Group. He helped start Missio Dei, a campus ministry at the University of Missouri. He is currently an adjunct professor of New Testament at Liberty University’s School of Divinity and Regent University. He also has worked in various pastoral roles.

Four Critical Values for Pastoral Accountability

Let’s face it. If a pastor's accountability isn't in the local church, it's probably not real accountability. It's the illusion of accountability so we can traffic in the vocabulary without the entanglements of the substance. Here’s the problem: Not everyone is clear on what they mean when they use the word "accountability." Let me suggest four specific values we should seek to experience in accountability of plurality.

• Intentionality
• Self Disclosure
• Approachability
• Appeal

Below we’ll look a bit at each of these values. But before we do, there is one overarching principle we must never overlook. If you want to know the secret underlying the kind of loving accountable relationships where elders grow more in love with Jesus, their wife and their ministry, it’s humility. That’s right, humility.

AN IMPORTANT WORD ON HUMILITY

Humility is the oil that lubricates the engine of plurality. When one considers all of the polity options God could have chosen for governing churches, I theorize that God chose plurality because he loves humility.  And plurality can’t work without humility because in plurality, God imposes a governing structure that can’t be effective without embodying humble values. God loves unity, so he calls us to plurality where we must humbly persevere with one another to function effectively. God loves making us holy, so he unites us to men who will make us grow. God loves patience, so he imposes a way of governing that requires humble listening and a trust that God is working in the lives of others.

God has decided the church will be governed in ways that value both the ends and the means. That is, God values decision making, but he also values the way we relate to each other in the decision making process. We often think what’s “best” in polity is what’s most efficient, easiest, or most effective way of doing something. Instead, God’s best way is whatever is the most beautiful way. The standard of beauty is God, specifically the interplay of his own unity, diversity, and harmony. God throws together diverse men with different gifts who have strong opinions and then insists upon their unity. This does not always look or feel “beautiful”. But God still charges elders to lead the church. As they lead, they are also called to grow in their exercise of authority as they remain mutually accountable and responsible to one another. The only hope for such a dynamic to exist in a group is for us to make humility our aim.

But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word. (Isaiah 66:2)

God made healthy plurality dependent upon accountability because he loves humility. Now we’ll turn our attention to the four values of accountability, the first one being "intentionality."

FOUR CRITICAL VALUES FOR ACCOUNTABILITY

Intentionality means I will have some defined, regular and consistent context in my life where guys who know me can encourage me, pray for me, and understand my patterns of temptation. It’s saying, “I love my wife enough, my family enough, the church enough and fear God enough, that I’m actually going to define the contexts for my accountability. And rather than sharing in a generic manner, or in vague generalities, or using amoral words to remove any sense of my own moral agency, I’m going to ensure they know me all the way down to where I am most tempted. This way they can pray for me, encourage my growth, and ask about how I’m doing.” We must press down into all the areas that could potentially detonate our family or ministry and define when and where these will be discussed. That’s intentionality.

Self-disclosure means while you are always welcome to inquire about my soul, it is not your job to investigate my life, my sin or my temptations. Self-disclosure brings forth humility by making it our responsibility to humbly open our souls to those to whom we are accountable. Fellow elders are not prosecuting attorneys cross-examining your life. Instead, you are a witness to your own life, sharing truthfully, freely, and happily with little or no provocation. In Christ, we have God’s self-disclosure (John 1:18). Jesus is God moving towards us making himself known. Self-disclosure stems from the incarnation by communicating we too want to experience deep community. We move towards one another by beginning with making ourselves known first. The burden is on me to disclose my joys and struggles.

This small distinction in how we view self-disclosure results in a far more gracious approach to accountability and respects the believer’s relationship with God. Behind this value is a confidence that God’s work in our lives propels us towards an honest life before Him and one another. Placing the accent on our disclosure creates an arrangement where accountability is not rigged to find sin or places us in the role of the Holy Spirit.  Rather, it is transformed into a context to trust God’s word and encourage the exercise of humility. When I make self-disclosure my responsibility it’s easier for others to ask me questions about my soul, my marriage, my parenting, my ministry, or to share their heart for me.

Approachability is best described by Ken Sande who writes about the importance of conducting ourselves in a way that makes us approachable, generous, and easy to talk to--even if our conversation is about something hard. Sande says when we live humbly, resonate with openness, and become more Christ-like, we gain ‘passports’ into the lives of others. This is an important concept for anyone who wants to experience genuine, meaningful, and fruitful accountability.

Simply belonging to a group is not passport into the lives of others. A passport, remember, is an authorization to enter and travel in a foreign land. Similarly as we are intentional, self-disclosing and approachable with one another, we gain passports into the lives of the other people in our group. These “passports” are earned bestowals of trust that come when others feel they can trust us with their own self-disclosure and with the care of their souls amidst their struggles.

If you want to experience real accountability and helpful feedback from others, you will need to be known as one who is approachable and trustworthy.

Appeal recognizes accountability is hard and sometimes needs help. Maybe the experience of fellowship breaks down due to a conflict that can’t be resolved, or maybe one person in the group feels permanently tagged by something they’ve confessed. Maybe it’s something more serious:  You seem to be caught in sin and the group feels unable to help, or your wife feels trapped by some pattern of behavior you’re exercising in the home and just doesn't know what to do.

The value of appeal says, even before we start our group, we are agreeing a plea for help may be necessary and we are defining the person or group within the church to whom we will appeal. Appeal says that seeking outside help is not betrayal or slander, but sometimes necessary when sinners are trying to help each other. Appeal says we are agreeing up front we will not allow our homes to become tightly controlled, closed systems; that our wives can appeal to others for help if they feel it is needed. Our cycles of accountability can be appealed if something becomes an albatross. The value of appeal anticipates that sometimes we are blind and need help and in that moment, we are far less likely to want to seek it. So we agree now to protect ourselves (and those we love) then.

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Dave Harvey serves as the Executive Director of Sojourn Network and a Teaching Pastor at Summit Church in Fort Myers, Florida. Dave is also the founder of Am I Called.com, a leadership resource site helping pastors, leaders, and men who sense a call to ministry. He has 31 years of pastoral experience, with 19 years as a lead pastor. Dave chairs the board for the Christian Counseling and Educational Foundation (CCEF) and has traveled nationally and internationally doing conferences where he teaches Christians, equips pastors, and trains church planters. Dave has a D.Min from Westminster Theological Seminary, writes regularly for TGC and FTC, and is the author of When Sinners Say I Do, Am I Called, Rescuing Ambition, and Letting Go: Rugged Love for Wayward Souls. Married for 35 years, Dave and Kimm have four kids and two grandkids.

You can find this Sojourn Network e-book here on Amazon, iTunes, or at the Sojourn Network bookstore.

You can find out more about the Sojourn Network here.

What Coaching Soccer Taught Me About Leading Small Groups

When my oldest son decided to play soccer, I was a little nervous. I wanted to be involved in his life, but I grew up playing football. All I knew about soccer was that you couldn’t use your hands, and the weirder your hair, the better you probably were. When the county soccer league sent out an email to parents asking for volunteers to help coach, I felt more than underqualified. But I said yes because I wanted to meet a need and be involved. When I went to the first coaches meeting, I had a realization—small group leaders at church must feel the same way I do right now. Pastors and ministry leaders live in ministry 24/7, and it’s easy for us to forget what it feels like to step into leading ministry for the first time. We have a desire to see our churches multiply disciples, but it’s easy to forget the perspective of those we’ve asked to fulfill the mission. They’re scared, nervous, unsure what exactly they signed up for, or how they’re going to do it. They feel the same way I did in that coaches meeting—nervous, unsure, unqualified, wanting to meet a need but also wondering if they’re enough.

I left that meeting knowing more about coaching soccer, but I also left having learned about how to mature followers of Christ. Here are three lessons coaching youth soccer taught me about equipping small group leaders.

THEY NEED A CLEAR JOB DESCRIPTION

When I walked into that coaches meeting, I knew I would need to be at practice and show up to games, but that was about it. The Director of Coaching walked us through a very clear and well done packet that outlined what we were expected to do throughout the season. Everything from calling parents, getting cones, balls and nets, scheduling practice times, sample practice outlines, age appropriate expectations, drills and rules, etc. I knew what I was expected to do, and how they wanted me to do it.

Small group leaders need the same. What exactly do we want them to do? What is a win? If we want mature leaders, we need to put them in a position where they understand what they are supposed to be doing beyond a weekly list of questions to ask the people in their group.

Some leaders will have an expectation that they’re supposed to show up to group and preach a sermon or teach a lesson. Others will think their job as a group leader is to set out great snacks and provide a clean house. Others may see their group as an opportunity to promote their theological or political agenda. Still others may have absolutely no idea, but they are willing to show up and fill a need.

Small group leaders will not mature if they do not have a clear understanding of what you are asking them to do. There is no silver bullet job description to mature your small group leaders understanding of their mission, however. It will be largely dependent on your context, strategy, and philosophy of groups. If you don’t help your people to understand what you’re asking of them, they will drift into the assumptions they bring with them.

THEY NEED EFFECTIVE TRAINING

In the coaches meeting, I found out I could take a coaching certification course online through USA Soccer at my own pace and get an “f” license, and the program would pay for it. So I did. And I learned a ton! The video sessions were five to ten minutes long, easy to understand for a beginner, and came with a quiz afterwards. I moved from knowing that you can’t use your hands and off sides is bad, to understanding how USA Soccer believes soccer players develop. I learned skills to grow and mature players, drills and exercises to employ at practice, and how I could avoid harmful mistakes.

The soccer program invested in formal training for their coaches. It made me exponentially better at developing my team because I had high level, professional training. Churches can talk about training and developing leaders, but if we do not make training effective, accessible, and attractive, we won’t see it bear any fruit. They gave us a coaches meeting, but also provided engaging and accessible on-going development opportunities.

I was learning and growing as a coach every week. Are we giving our leaders the same opportunities to mature and grow in their leadership? Are there online resources you can equip them with? Is there space in your budget to provide them with equipping opportunities at conferences, or with coaching or online courses? Is there a local ministry or seminary that can provide resources or training to your leaders?

Any level of formal training we can provide our leaders will mature their faith and ministry. It doesn’t have to be complicated, expensive, or require a large chunk of our time. With all the digital options at our fingertips, we can cheaply and effectively train and equip our small group leaders. They almost all desire more training, we just have to show them where to find it.

THEY NEED COMMUNITY

Leadership is lonely. Anyone in ministry has learned that very quickly. They need a community of leaders and mentors to lean on when small group life gets discouraging, when they’re criticized, when they make a mistake, or when they feel unsure or lonely. Aside from the great information our soccer league gave us at the coaches meeting, we also walked away with a sense of community. We had a director of coaching who was available to help us build a practice plan, and as a go-to with questions about player development. We had a commissioner we could go to with problems like angry, disruptive parents, referee issues, or conflicts with other coaches.

Where can your first-time small group leader go for help when a group member confesses an affair, is dealing with addiction, has significant conflict with another person in the group, or the church? If our leaders are isolated as they shepherd a group, then hurt, conflict, and difficulty will overwhelm them and make it much more difficult for them to lead their group into a healthy obedience to Jesus Christ.

One of the greatest challenges church leaders face in maturing small group leaders is in seeing the ministry from the perspective of a person who has never done it before. We can’t assume maturity and confidence of the people leading a group. Anyone in church leadership would say mature and effective small group leaders are a cornerstone of the church blossoming into the body of Christ and multiplying disciples, but if we are not intentional about understanding and equipping our leaders, they will not mature into the leaders their groups need them to be.

Coaching soccer is a weird place to learn about maturing small group leaders, but it has radically changed and challenged the way I view leadership development in my church, and I hope it will for you too.

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Nick Strobel lives in Terre Haute, Indiana and serves as the Discpleship Pastor at Marlyand Community Church. He and his wife Kayleigh have two boys Ethan and Sawyer, love Jesus, old houses and animals. Follow Nick on Twitter for church stuff, Stars hockey and West Wing quotes.

Let's Get Real About Women's Discipleship

Less than a year ago, I helped organize a women’s ministry event focused on discipleship. During this hour-long event, we offered women the chance to ask anonymous questions to a panel of female leaders in the church about the practice of discipleship.

It went well. Frankly, a little too well. The five of us participating on the panel ran out of time long before those in attendance ran out of questions. While I was encouraged by the interest women showed in the topic, I left the panel feeling somewhat burdened by the trend I saw in the questions women were asking us.

Many women in my church seemed to struggle with the essential rhythm of discipleship, mostly because they had unrealistic ideas about what discipleship should look like in the first place. They were frustrated by their lack of theological prowess or their inability to squeeze a group Bible study into their schedules, and rather than doing discipleship “wrongly” they were just foregoing discipleship completely. 

In his book Discipling, author Mark Dever offers a to-the-point definition of discipleship as “helping others follow Jesus”. This doesn’t seem to be the definition many women are applying in their personal lives. If Instagram is any clue, most Christian women think discipleship is limited to hosting thoughtfully curated Bible studies in tasteful homes where shrieking children and dirty dishes don’t exist. This glossy ideal sits like a yoke on many women’s shoulders rather than spurring them onward in Christ’s Great Commission.

That yoke leads to many problems, all of which could be rectified by letting go of perfectionism and getting real. Here are three ways to start getting real about women's discipleship.

1. STOP SEARCHING FOR THE UNICORN DISCIPLER

The most common question I hear in women’s ministry is some variation of “where can I get a Titus-2 woman to disciple me?” This isn’t a bad question, but it is sometimes asked with something unhelpful in mind. I’ve watched repeatedly as Christian women adopt a heavy-handed application of the passage in Titus 2:1-5. In these verses, godly, well-respected older women are instructed to teach younger women in the church. While this is clearly the Father’s intended model within a congregational family, sometimes our expectations are more detailed than the text itself!

I know too many women who are desperately holding out for a discipler that looks more like a unicorn than an actual human being. In our minds we sometimes conjure up this image of what sort of woman we want pouring wisdom into us: at least twenty years older, maybe she’s the pastor’s wife or women’s ministry leader; she’s got kids, preferably a lot of them. Yet this older woman with a pastor husband, a women’s ministry to run, and a bunch of kids to raise can magically find the time to meet with us three times a week at a coffee shop to read the Bible.

Not only do we sometimes have unreasonable expectations for those we want to disciple us, but sometimes we find ourselves unintentionally ignoring women in our midst who already want to pour into us. That single sister or college girl is just as capable of reminding you of the gospel as anyone else, and may be the very woman God has put in your life to help you grow and mature as a believer. Let go of the unicorn, and praise God for any woman of any age or life stage who is willing to disciple you.

2. SIMPLIFY DISCIPLESHIP RHYTHMS

Another concern women have about discipleship is about “how” to do it, with many convinced the only acceptable way to disciple someone is to have one-on-one Bible discussions. Interestingly enough, the Bible shows us that discipleship takes many forms.

The book of Acts describes the death and resurrection of a disciple named Tabitha (Acts 9:36-43). She specifically cared for women in Joppa who lost their husbands. As this community was grieving the loss of their beloved sister-disciple, nobody mentioned Tabitha’s hostess skills or if she coordinated the best Bible studies. Instead, these widows wept into the clothes that Tabitha made for them in their time of need. With this simple, unflashy act of faithfulness Tabitha deeply influenced the women of her church community. So much so that when she died two men ran to another town to find the Apostle Peter and ask for his help.

Peter raised this woman who was “filled with good works and charity” from the dead so that she could continue discipling and serving her sisters in the church. She may not have led a Bible study, but Tabitha was a discipleship powerhouse by simply living alongside these women, observing their needs and doing her best to meet them in Jesus’ name. Our own discipleship can be that simple too.

However, the practical servant discipleship of Tabitha is not our only example. In the first Epistle to the Thessalonians, the Apostle Paul writes a letter to the believers in Thessalonica. Paul is actually engaging in discipleship just by writing this letter of encouragement and instruction to other believers. In chapter 5 of this letter, Paul gives the church some specific charges in discipleship; “admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all”. All of the things Paul detailed here are considered discipleship actionables, and all of these things are incredibly powerful in the life of believer.

Think of the last woman you spent a significant amount of time with. Did she have a physical need? How could you meet that physical need and use it to remind her of her great need for a Savior? Is she experiencing a personal trial? How can you encourage her and remind her of God’s goodness? Are you aware of any sin patterns this woman may have in her life? What words and approach should you use to gently admonish and restore her?

Asking yourself these kinds of questions and letting the answers guide your interactions is discipleship in its simplest form.

To be clear, there is great value in dedicated time for discussing scripture with other women. But if you want to develop a rhythm of discipling others and being discipled, you are also going to have to embrace the messiness of life, and that often means organized study sessions take a backseat. You will have to talk over screaming kids. You will have women flake out because of other responsibilities. You will often talk about scripture while one of you folds laundry or finishes up a work project. All of these things are okay. There is a lot you can learn from another woman just by observing her in her daily routine without any special appointments or studies.

3. KEEP IT ALL ABOUT JESUS

Ultimately the kind of discipleship women need is the kind that stirs their affections for Christ and encourages them to become more like him. But many women worry they aren’t theologically capable of discipling or teaching someone else.

Luckily for believers, there is no prerequisite for discipleship. If God’s word is living and active, then God’s story has the power to challenge and mature believers independent of our abilities or intellect. Your job as a discipler is to simply show others who Jesus is and remind them what he did for them, over and over again. When they are hurting, remind them. When they are angry at their co-worker or spouse, remind them. When they are sinning, remind them. When they need grace, remind them.

THE SIMPLE GOSPEL

The simple message of the gospel is what changes our lives both in the temporal and eternal sense, and the gospel didn’t lose its power after that happened. To assume that God cannot continue to change a person’s heart or sanctify them despite our bumbling words or lack of apologetic knowledge is to underestimate his power. The good news of Jesus Christ and someone willing to speak it is all that is truly necessary for discipleship.

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 .

Taste and See that the Bible is True

How do you know that God is good? That He’s trustworthy? How do you know the Bible is true? Many times we’re told we just have to believe these things by knowing and accepting them. In my life, these questions required much more than acquiring knowledge. Coming to answers involved knowing about God, yes, but also experiencing God.

TASTE AND SEE

Psalm 34:8 says, "Taste and see that the Lord is good."

Notice the progression in this verse. First you taste, experiencing the fullness of flavor as your taste buds fire signals to your brain about what you’re eating.

Then your brain interprets those signals and you notice the food is perhaps a bit undercooked, too salty, or—like those scenes in Ratatouille—fireworks go off in your mind as you’re overcome with delight.

Tasting opens our eyes and allows us to see—to know—something for ourselves. Taste and see are experiential words. They involve the senses, which are able to bring abstract concepts to life.

When I think of food, I think of donuts. I’m an evangelist for Jesus, but I’m also a part-time evangelist for a local donut shop.

These things are amazing. The donuts themselves are like a mix between funnel cakes and the donuts most people think of—crunchy and slightly crisp on the outside, soft and delicately fluffy on the inside. And then come the toppings. Oh, the toppings! The glazes, frostings, sprinkles, even bits of bacon. My personal favorite is a simple maple glaze.

Now, I heard about these donuts for a while before I tasted them for myself. Everyone promised me I would love them, and I figured I would because, hey, I like donuts. But I wasn’t able to understand the fullness of their glory without tasting them for myself, allowing me to experience them through my senses in a way that brought those promises to life.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good” works in the same way. It's an invitation to try out the promises of God, and as you do, you'll find that He is good.

PREPARING FOR THE FEAST

This is how I came to trust that God is good and trustworthy. It’s how I came to know that Scripture should be my source of truth and only guide for living. Several years ago my heart was gripped by the reality of what the Scriptures teach, and the eyes of my heart began to be enlightened (Eph. 1:18) to the truth of God’s word.

I began to understand that Jesus’ promise to be with us in the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18-20) was linked to our participation in disciple-making. I came to see that if I wanted to experience the power of God’s Spirit, I had to be engaged in speaking the gospel, the primary purpose for which the Spirit was sent (Acts 1:8). I realized that how I treated the poor and spent my money were measures of my faith and how much of my heart Jesus really had.

As I came to understand what the Scriptures were teaching, I had to know if it was true. I was tired of the supernatural stuff being stuck between the pages of Scripture. I wanted it to break out into my life in the here and now. So I started tasting.

TASTING DISCIPLESHIP

The first thing I “tasted” was discipleship. I had never been discipled one-on-one or as part of a group, so I didn’t really know what it looked like. But if it was the last thing Jesus said to do before ascending to his heavenly throne, it must be a big deal.

I read some books, talked to some people, and started praying for God to send me guys to disciple. I knew, based on materials I had reviewed, that one of the crucial elements in discipleship is availability – the person you disciple needs to be available to spend time learning to study and apply the Scriptures.

So I prayed along those lines. Within a couple of months, God made it clear who the guys were going to be. And the guys he sent me had just been laid off – making them highly available and incredibly open to learning and applying Scripture to their lives.

The next six months was a prolonged opening of my eyes. I had never really committed to investing in the lives of other men in the ways we see in the New Testament – spending time with them, encouraging them, challenging them, memorizing Scripture with them – which means I had never experienced the transformative power of the Holy Spirit in these awesome ways. I witnessed all of us grow closer to Jesus, and become more like him, as we spoke the truths of Scripture into one another’s lives.

I tasted the Lord and came to see that what God promised is true – that we sense Jesus’ nearness as we make disciples; that we tap into the power of the Spirit as we speak the gospel; and that wherever two or three gather in the name of Jesus, he is there with us (Matt. 18:20).

Not only are those things true but they are so, so good. For the first time in my life I felt like I was participating in the New Testament for myself and seeing the promises of Scripture come to life in my time.

Naturally, I wanted more. So I kept tasting.

TASTING MERCY

I was convicted by the materialism that ran rampant in my heart. I knew Jesus called us to put our treasure in heavenly things, not things of this world.

I read Luke 12:33 and didn’t see any wiggle room in the command to “sell your possessions and give to the needy.” At the same time, I wondered why Christians don’t use their homes for ministry as in the early church, and wrote an article suggesting ways to do so. One of my suggestions was to invite a homeless family to live with you, particularly if you live in the suburbs. So I started praying for God to show me what he wanted me to give up or to be open to.

A week later, I was notified at church that someone needed to speak with a pastor. I headed across the building to speak with them. After a couple of minutes of waiting, a mother came to me with tears in her eyes and told me the story of how she lost her home and ended up sleeping in her car. Her three kids were sleeping at their dad’s place so she could keep it a secret that they didn’t have a home anymore.

It was about a week before Christmas, so none of the normal referrals I would connect her with would be open, and she had no family nearby because she was an immigrant. As I was listening to her story, God showed me that this was what I had been praying for. I’m a middle-class guy with a wife and three kids in an affluent suburb—precisely what I had written about a week earlier. It was time to taste and see.

So on Christmas Day, this woman and her three children showed up at my house and spent the evening with my family. It was awkward at first. We didn’t really know each other well; my family wasn’t quite sure what we were doing; and my children moved into the same bedroom to make room for our guests.

But the discomfort was nothing compared to the blessing we received by having their family join ours for a time. We bonded with her children, and they joined our family worship times. We cooked meals together and laughed and cried together. That time transformed my family’s willingness to be obedient to whatever God calls us to do.

SWEETER THAN HONEY

So why do I trust God? How do I know He’s good? How do I know the Bible is true and its words are authoritative?

Because I have tasted God’s promises and seen that they are true. I have savored His goodness and found myself craving more.

Now, when I taste God’s Word, I have the same experience as Ezekiel. In a vision, God told the prophet to consume a scroll with his words written on it. As Ezekiel eats God’s words, he finds that “it was in my mouth as sweet as honey” (Ezekiel 3:3).

Scripture is not only the authority in and for my life, it is “sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb” (Ps. 19:10).

Grayson Pope is a husband and father of three as well the Managing Web Editor at GCD. He serves as Pastor of Community at his church in Charlotte, NC and has earneda MACS at The Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Grayson’s passion is to equip believers for every day discipleship to Jesus.