Dr. John M. Perkins 4/26/18 Dr. John M. Perkins 4/26/18

The Healing Balm of Confession

“And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ ” —Luke 15:21

I love the story of the prodigal son. I believe that it can teach us much about what we can do to make our way home on this issue of unity in the Church. Most of us, I am sure, are familiar with this parable of a son who was itching to get his inheritance and get out from under the strict rules in his father’s home. When this wayward son demanded his inheritance from his father and walked away from his home and his responsibilities, he rejected the standards that his father had set for him. He set his own standard for what was right and good and wasted his resources on selfish living. He learned soon enough that the Enemy had fooled him and all that glittered was not gold. And finally when all of his wealth and possessions were gone he came to himself and realized that the path he was travelling was wrong; it was self-destructive.

In many ways we can say this of the church. We walked away from the standard that our Father set for the church, and yes, we have wasted our resources on selfish endeavors. We have set many standards for what is right and good. Our standards are often bigger buildings, more people in the pews, more programs, and more money in our capital budgets. And the record is that the church in America is dying. According to The American Church Research Project, “between 1990 and 2009 more than 56 million people were added to the US census (56,819,471);” however, "during the same 20-year span only 446,540 people became active members of a local church; less than 1%."

By anyone’s standards, that’s a church in decline.

THE BEAUTY OF BROKENNESS

There is something so compelling about this prodigal son’s confession. And I think what makes it so heartwarming is the humility he demonstrates. It’s beautiful because it’s such a picture of brokenness. Brokenness is the opposite of pride. It is the willingness to admit our faults without concern for our reputation. It is the willingness to lay down our own rights and do whatever benefits the other. It is putting the needs of the other above our own. It lays the groundwork for reconciliation to occur. This prodigal son acknowledged that as he sinned against his earthly father, he was also sinning against the God of heaven. Our sins against our brothers and sisters are ultimately against our Father in heaven. As we struggle to become reconciled to one another, this is an essential part of the process. Each of us must “come to ourselves” and own our part in this mess . . . and we must become broken about it.

Before the Lord opened my eyes to the call of reconciliation, my part was anger. I wanted to get even. I was tired of being taken advantage of and not being able to fight back. And I was so fearful. My fear and anger were barriers that kept me from reaching out. The book of Acts shows us another beautiful picture of brokenness.

In Acts 16:25–34, we read that Paul and Silas have been imprisoned for preaching the gospel, and at midnight they prayed. God sent an earthquake to shake the very foundations of the prison. Thinking that the prisoners had escaped, the Roman jailer prepared to take his own life. But Paul stopped him and affirmed that none had escaped. At this moment something incredible happens. The Roman jailer was transformed from enemy and abuser to broken and tender healer, as he is confronted with his wrong and the power that is at work within Paul and Silas. He falls trembling before them and asks, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” That question is pregnant with power. The strong willingly becomes weak. The superior willingly becomes inferior. I realize that I have been wrong; that I have wronged you. How can I make it right? He comes to himself and claims Jesus as Savior, and we see him washing the wounds that perhaps he himself had inflicted. That’s powerful!

After the beating I suffered in Brandon, Mississippi, I spent a good deal of time in the hospital. I was broken in body and broken in spirit. I had come to understand that my reaction of anger, hate, and bitterness was as bad as the action of the white jail guards who had beaten me. It was at that point that I was able to see my own brokenness. God used the black and white nurses and doctors at that hospital to wash my wounds. For me they were symbolic of the people who had beaten me. What they did healed more than just my broken body. It healed my heart. I wanted to hate all white people after what happened to me. But God used their compassion and care to break the wall of anger, distrust, and bitterness. He used their kindness to convict me of how wrong I was to harbor bitterness in my heart. He set me free to love them in return.

THE HARD BUSINESS OF CONFESSION

Oh, how beautiful it would be if we could wash one another’s wounds from the evil of racism in the church! That could be the balm that heals us . . . that sets us free . . . that rekindles the light that has long been hidden under a bushel. But those wounds cannot and will not be healed without first being exposed. We must do as the prodigal did and acknowledge that we have sinned against God and against one another. I spoke at a multicultural church in Seattle not long ago. As I shared my testimony, many of those attending shared their own stories. Many had stories of being dehumanized as a minority. Some told stories of internment of their family and friends. I realized that I might have been guilty at some time of dehumanizing others. I had to repent and ask God for forgiveness. When we do that he promises to forgive us, to remove our sin as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12).

But the wounds often remain. Often they leave scabs that have to be gingerly removed . . . until all that is left is a scar. The memory of the hurt. I know that confession and brokenness are almost un-American terms. We pride ourselves on our rugged individualism and our right to be right. So it may not be “American” to admit our faults and humble ourselves before one another, but if we want to be like Christ this is what we must do. He was equal with God, but he humbled himself and dwelt among his creation. He got hungry and thirsty just as we do. And he submitted himself to ridicule and scorn in order to purchase our salvation. He is our example. “Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A slave is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will keep yours also” (John 15:20).

If Jesus is truly our master, then humility and brokenness will become doable. So, let’s do the hard business of confession. Let’s do it together.

It may not be “American” to humble ourselves and admit our faults before one another, but if we want to be like Christ this is what we must do.

Dr. John M. Perkins is the founder and president emeritus of the John and Vera Mae Perkins Foundation and co-founder of Christian Community Development Association. He has served in advisory roles under five U.S. presidents, is one of the leading evangelical voices to come out of the American civil rights movement, and is an author and international speaker on issues of reconciliation, leadership, and community development. For his tireless work, he has received 14 honorary doctorates.

Courtney Yantes 4/24/18 Courtney Yantes 4/24/18

The Sweet Salvation in the Cup of Christ

I’m a terrible gift-giver. I don’t give bad gifts as much as I don’t give any gifts. I’m not anti-gifts; I’m just not good at picking them. So most of the time I don’t. But about once every five years, I experience a stroke of gift-giving brilliance. My father’s tendency to stand in front of the refrigerator, looking for something to drink, has become something of a running joke in my family. He would fling the double-doors wide open, staring expectantly at the contents, hoping something would stand out. This Christmas, my stroke of gift-giving brilliance kicked in. I decided to solve his problem. I went on a drink-buying binge and bought him twenty-five different kinds of non-alcoholic drinks, one for every day of December, leading up to Christmas.A vast majority produced indifference, while only a few stood out as true winners.

Then there were the few outright epic fails. I won’t name brand names in order to protect the guilty, but one involved a cold-pressed juice with cucumber, spinach, kale, lemon juice, romaine, and apple. My dad has a stomach of steel, mind you, but he took one swig of that drink and practically snorted it out his nose. “That’s like drinking a bale of hay,” he said. The rest of the bottle promptly made its way down the drain without so much as a second sip.

As I reflected back on my dad’s twenty-five days of drinks, picturing his distorted facial features, I leafed through the pages of Scripture and found a group of people with a similar experience. But their drink of choice carried far more significant reminders than a bale of hay.

SIN LEAVES A BAD TASTE IN YOUR MOUTH

When the Israelite people, led by Moses, left behind 400 years of slavery and escaped from Egypt, they experienced the miracle of parted waters at the Red Sea, the provision of manna and quail from heaven, the delivery of the Ten Commandments, the precise blueprints for the tabernacle—one move of God after another. Even after all that, their appetites weren’t satisfied and their thirsts weren’t satiated.

While Moses was taking his sweet time up on the mountain with God, the Israelites down below cried out to Aaron, his brother: “Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened to him” (Ex. 32:1).

Aaron asked the people to give him all their gold, and “he took what they handed him and made it into an idol cast in the shape of a calf, fashioning it with a tool” (Ex. 32:4). And then the real fun began.

The next day, the people held a festival, rising early to sacrifice burnt offerings, present fellowship offerings, and indulge in basically every sort of sexual immorality imaginable. The people let loose, and the miracle of the parted Red Sea became a distant memory in light of the present pleasures.

Both Moses and God looked down from the mountaintop, witnessing the short-term memories and sin-filled sacrifices of the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—and their anger burned. Moses eventually made his way down the mountain and "took the calf they had made and burned it in the fire; then he ground it to powder, scattered it on the water and made the Israelites drink it” (Ex. 32:19-20).

Bottoms up, he told them. Cup your hands and start scooping. Drink long and slow and deep, and find out exactly what your sin tastes like. Feel that finely-ground gold wash across your lips, over your tongue, bumping into your taste buds along the way. Feel the grit between your teeth.

There’s nothing that burns your throat quite like the taste of your own sin. Moses knew it wouldn’t be enough for the people to simply tear down the calf and melt it into something else. They needed to ingest the very sin they were so determined to relish just hours before. They needed to know what idolatry tasted like so they never did it again. The fools were to drink the fools’ gold. So, drink up, he said. Drink down to the very last drop, let there not be a single speck of gold left in the waters.

I imagine their faces twisted and distorted with disgust much like my father. Sin always tastes disgusting when we are forced to drink it for ourselves.

ANOTHER CUP SET BEFORE US

That’s the way of sin, though, isn’t it? It seems enjoyable and harmless when we first set out. We rationalize it, justify it, defend it. A friend of mine used to preach sexual abstinence until she found herself giving her own purity away to a long-time boyfriend. After that, she repeatedly had sex outside of marriage with various different boyfriends and had a ready defense every time. She made no apologies, and after a while simply became desensitized to her own sin. Her rationale was that since she already crossed the line, she might as well keep going.

The Israelites did their own rationalizing. They exchanged the glory of God for a lie, and God gave them over to their sins in the same way we read about in Romans 1:21-24. He eventually gives us over to exactly what we want when we persist in our sins. A holy and righteous God can do no less. If sin is what we choose, then he will see to it that we freely drink of those sins.

But praise Jesus, there is another drink we can choose from, another source to satisfy our thirsts that does not involve finely ground gold.

“Then [Jesus] took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to [his disciples], saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins’ ” (Matt. 26:27-28).

Drink from it—all of you—he said. Drink of his blood and find the sweetness of salvation instead of the sickness of sin. Drink of his blood and find the forgiveness of foolishness instead of the finality of flaws.

Jesus raised a glass to all that could be different for sinners like you and me. He raised a glass to the blood of the covenant, his blood poured out for the forgiveness of sins. The beauty of the gospel is we no longer have to live like the Israelites, grinding up our sins and pouring them into the waters to scoop up with our hands. We no longer have to walk around with twisted and distorted faces, forcing ourselves to down our bitter-tasting sins. We no longer have to make the exchange, giving up the truth of God for lies.

You have a choice: drink from the cup of your sins and feel the burn all the way down, or drink from the cup from which the precious blood of Christ was poured out and feel the burn of redemption all the way down. His cup overflows and never runs dry. It’s the cup that always satisfies, always quenches, always fills, always redeems, always forgives.

May the fools drink no more of the fools’ gold, but of the precious blood of Jesus Christ.

Courtney Yantes spends her days as an event planner, coordinating events and conferences designed to inspire change and promote access for people with disabilities. She graduated from William Woods University with a bachelor’s degree in history and a master’s in business administration. She enjoys blogging, traveling, and generally organizing anything she can get her hands on. She is a lover of all things Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and relishes a life free of social media accounts.

Zach Barnhart 4/22/18 Zach Barnhart 4/22/18

When Gospel-Centered Goes Too Far

Many in the church today live under the banner of “gospel-centered.” It’s in our Twitter bio. It’s in our books, our conferences, our worship. The phrase defines an entire philosophy of ministry. It even curates the content we consume—after all, you did visit Gospel-Centered Discipleship to read this.

When does gospel-centered, and all it represents, go too far? You might chafe under the notion that gospel-centeredness may not be the be-all and end-all of our lives and ministry, but allow me to explain.

THE FOREST AND THE TREE

One of the most haunting condemnations Jesus hands down is found in the Gospel of John. Jesus had just miraculously healed a disabled man, allowing him to walk again. When the man discovers that it was Jesus himself who made him well, he reports what happened to the Jews. They were furious at these reports and confronted Jesus, accusing him of performing these works on the Sabbath, which went against Jewish religious practice.

Jesus’ response only made them angrier: “My Father is still working, and I am working also” (John 5:17 CSB). Not only was Jesus working on the Lord’s Day, but now he was making himself equal to God! (John 5:18).

As the Jews derided and persecuted him, Jesus rebuked their inability to understand the point of it all. After exhorting the crowds, he stuns the Jewish leaders by saying, “You pore over the Scriptures because you think you have eternal life in them, and yet they testify about me. But you are not willing to come to me so that you may have life.” (John 5:39-40).

Jesus diagnosed their problem as being so consumed with the message that they missed the Messiah. Eugene Peterson paraphrases Jesus’ words this way: “You miss the forest for the trees!” The Jews were so concerned with the what of their faith that they failed to see the who behind it all.

And so we often do the same. We drive home the need to focus on Scripture as narrative, but sometimes forget to focus on the Protagonist. Less-than-careful preachers point their church to theology, and somehow, not to Christ. We walk through the forest and fail to notice the beauty of the one mighty Tree before us.

Gospel-centered goes too far when we miss the forest for the trees; when we’re so gospel-centered that we miss Jesus.

This is more than mere semantics. We must remind ourselves that the gospel is only something worth centering our lives on if, standing at the center of that gospel, is Jesus Christ. “He is before all things, and by him all things hold together” (Col. 1:17). “Your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). Indeed, the news of the gospel is only good because of who it proclaims.

PREACHING CHRIST IN OUR GOSPEL

In his new book Spurgeon on the Christian Life, Michael Reeves observes that Charles Spurgeon felt compelled to say that he was preaching Christ, “because of how easily we reduce ‘the gospel’ or ‘the truth’ to an impersonal system.” Reeves notes that “Spurgeon saw theology much like astronomy: as the solar system makes sense only when the sun is central, so systems of theological thought are coherent only when Christ is central. Every doctrine must find its place and meaning in its proper relation to Christ.”

The book cites multiple excerpts of Spurgeon commending preaching Christ, including this one:

“Yes, it is Christ, Christ, Christ whom we have to preach; and if we leave him out, we leave out the very soul of the gospel. Christless sermons make merriment for hell. Christless preachers, Christless Sunday-school teachers, Christless class-leaders, Christless tract-distributors—what are all these doing? They are simply setting the mill to the grind without putting any grist into the hopper, so all their labour is in vain. If you leave Jesus Christ out, you are simply beating the air, or going to war without any weapon with which you can smite the foe.”

I appreciate the wide lens with which Spurgeon applies our need for preaching Christ, because this is not just a pastoral issue. Yes, preachers have an obligation to preach the same message—“Christ!”—every Sunday. But this is also true for the youth pastor, the children’s ministry worker, the elder or deacon, the layman.

This is not a call to abandon the “gospel-centered” banner. But it is a call to remember that standing at the core of our message is Christ—the Word made flesh (John 1:14). Yes, our biblicism and crucicentrism and conversionism and activism and all our other -ism’s are all fundamental to our gospel-centeredness. But each of these attitudes fall miserably short if Christ is not present and precious in all and through all.

KEEPING THE MAIN THING THE MAIN THING

If we believe that Christ belongs at the center of our solar system of faith, then we will see that he affects everything and holds all things together. Here are just a few implications of a faith focused on preaching Christ.

Preaching Christ affects how we read Scripture. Too often we limit discussion of Jesus to the New Testament, but as Jesus affirmed in John 5, the Old Testament is all about him, too. It’s more than a few passages here and there, like Genesis 3:15 and Isaiah 53; the whole of the Old Testament is centered on the person of Christ. As Tim Keller reminds us, “Each genre and part of the Old Testament looks toward Christ and informs us about who he is in some way that the others do not.” The echoes of Christ ring through the hallways of Proverbs and Hosea and Exodus. The Old Testament is an unfolding of God’s redemptive plan, but rest assured, Christ is there throughout.
Preaching Christ affects how we pray. Prayer is one of the most personal tools we have to communicate with God, and when we remember our prayers are to a Person, we begin to speak as we ought. We do not pray to the abstract or the impersonal. We pray like a child of God showing love and crying out to his Father who hears him and takes notice.
Preaching Christ affects how we sing. When we gather for worship, it’s easy to sing about the gospel—that “Christ has died for us”—but which word do we emphasize? Too often, we emphasize for us, when it is Christ that should get the emphasis. A worship service focused on Christ will join together in songs that turn our eyes off of ourselves and onto Christ, helping us engage in more vital worship.
Preaching Christ affects how we serve. Serving because it’s part of the membership covenant is a poor reason to serve. Yes, the gospel’s good news compels us to live as servants of all, but a stronger motivator will always be our love for someone—namely Christ. May the gospel compel us to serve and live sacrificial lives, but may we be even more compelled to lay down our lives because of the Savior who did so for us.

To put it simply, what makes us Christian is Christ. We ought to keep the main thing the main thing. As Spurgeon quips, “If [Christ] be omitted, it is not the gospel…you are only inviting them to gaze upon an empty table unless Christ is the very centre and substance of all that you set before them.”

Continue to be gospel-centered, by all means. But as we invite people to the table, let’s not forget to invite the Guest of Honor.

Zach Barnhart currently serves as Student Pastor of Northlake Church in Lago Vista, TX. He holds a Bachelor of Science from Middle Tennessee State University and is currently studying at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, seeking a Master of Theological Studies degree. He is married to his wife, Hannah. You can follow Zach on Twitter @zachbarnhart or check out his personal blog, Cultivated.

Daniel Ritchie 4/19/18 Daniel Ritchie 4/19/18

Born to Make Disciples

“Son, you know you’re going to be a preacher someday, right?” People told me this all through my childhood, though few knew that I was not a believer at the time. Once I got saved at the age of fifteen, I still thought the people who said this were completely crazy. I can clearly remember a few weeks after I was saved telling God that there was no way I was going into the ministry.

I have since learned that you don’t ever tell God the things that you will never do.

BORN TO MAKE DISCIPLES

Since my conversion, I've been discipled by several men who have shown me what it means to be and make disciples. I've been an itinerant preacher, a youth pastor, and now an author and speaker. During this time, I learned that discipleship is not just a class you take inside the church. For me, it is having a deep, meaningful relationship with a fellow believer so that you can have gospel faithfulness mirrored for you. God put multiple men in my life who very willingly said, “Follow me as I follow Jesus.”

I truly love my job, even with all the difficulties that come with being a pastor. I would not trade this for anything else in the world. The call to make disciples day in and day out is an amazing opportunity. There are costs that you must count much in the same way that you must count the cost of being a disciple.

I know there are some of you who are reading this and praying about going into full-time ministry. If that is you, I want you to know that ministry is hard. The hours are long and irregular. Your family will bear the burden of the constant stress of the job. You will constantly see people at their worst. There will be seasons that you will want to quit and get a different job. You will have days that will make you wonder why God called you in the first place.

That’s when God reminds you why He called you. It is because your life is about His kingdom and not yours. It is because He is going to get all the glory and you are set to get none of it. It is because He wants to set you apart and not to just set you up for earthly success. It is because it is about His claim on your life and not your comfort.

As a matter of fact, that call is to come and die. Die to yourself, die to your wants, and die to this world. Our aim is to make His name great among all peoples and nations, but we have the honor of starting to make His name great among all people. Whether you are called to full-time ministry or not, every believer is called to make disciples. Even if that means pouring your life into one or two believers while also working your nine to five, the cost of making disciples is well worth it.

NO EXCUSES

I sometimes thought the cost of making disciples was too great for me to handle. It is funny to think that I built my independence on not quitting or giving in to excuses, but I wavered the moment that stepping into ministry became an option. I can clearly remember my prayer life being filled with a whole lot of, “But, God—”

But, God—I am a horrible speaker. But, God—I am an introvert.

But, God—I have no idea how to do this.

But, God—people aren’t going to see past this armless thing.

I was the young Christian who had staked my young faith on Philippians 4:13. I was living like God could help me overcome anything … except my fear of ministry. I was buying the lie heard in the garden, “Did God really say?” That was the only question that the snake offered Eve to get her to fling herself into disobedience. It was the same lie that I was diving into wholeheartedly because it was the easy thing to do. I didn’t want to walk another hard road. I had been down so many trying to learn to eat, write, and dress myself. I was happy to not fight this battle, until God took me across Jeremiah 1:

Now the word of the Lord came to me, saying, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”

Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth.” But the Lord said to me,

“Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the Lord.” (Jer. 1:4–8)

God has a way of stopping excuse-filled hearts with His very words. Jeremiah wanted to hold up his age and lack of wisdom as evidence for his uselessness in ministry. God had only to say that age is just a number and Jeremiah’s words would be the very words of the Lord. The same words that formed the earth. The same words that always accomplish their purpose. The same words that are sharper than any double-edged sword. God had made Jeremiah for this, equipped him for this, and was there to walk with him through it all.

Excuses extinguished.

In digging into the life of Jeremiah even further, you see how he earns the label of “weeping prophet.” His message centered on the sinfulness of Israel and their need to turn back to the Lord. He gets persecuted by his own family, and, because Israel ignores the words of the Lord, Jeremiah suffers through the destruction of Jerusalem. This suffering prophet who told of the suffering of sin to come must suffer through his obedience to what the Lord sent him to do.

Excuses are meaningless to the God who made all things.

THE REALITY OF DISCIPLE-MAKING

Suffering is the brand of the believer. That truth left me in convicted silence as I sat in front of God’s legacy in the life of Jeremiah. I had been told lies from the enemy and had bought them. I saw an easy road, and I was happy to take it. But what in the life of Christ was built of excuses or ease? He didn’t step off that cross when the very people He was dying for spat on Him. He didn’t bail when He was born in a barn and not a palace. The life of my Lord was absent of ease and excuse. In fact, the life of Christ shows a redemption bought willingly in His own blood.

So why do I so easily divorce the life of the disciple from the example of the Savior? Why do I expect comfort when my Lord had anything but that? Why do I whine and complain when the perfect Lamb who stepped down from the right hand of the Father was silent before His shearers?

The cost of discipleship is a hard reality for all of us to count. It is a reality that makes the Great Commission a choice between comfort or obedience. Either we go and make disciples, or we disobey. The Great Commission is not a mission statement for pastors; it is marching orders for the church. Either we buy excuses to justify our disobedience or we rest in grace so that we may speak of grace. The choice is ours.

Talk about a hard reality to swallow. Equally, what a hard reality that our Savior conquered sin and death so that we can have eternal life. It is in that beauty that we rest in and can have the courage to stand. It is that gospel beauty that the believer can abide in and tell of. It is when we savor the beauty of Christ that we want to share that sort of sweetness with the world. That’s why in Acts 20:24 Paul can boldly say: “But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”

Why is Paul able to stare at life itself and choose Christ over comfort? Because grace is better than comfort. Gospel words are better than excuse-encrusted silence. Christ gave us a calling that sets captives free and calls people from death to life. The church cannot be silent about that. There is too much at stake for a lost and dying world for disciples to accept the lie heard in the garden. Some of us may never step on the mission field or walk into a pulpit, and that is perfectly fine. We all accept the call to make disciples the moment we call on Jesus as Lord.

The question is not if we’re called to make disciples; the question is a question of when and where.

Daniel Ritchie is a speaker and writer from Huntersville, North Carolina, who has contributed to such publications as Desiring God and For the Church. He has 10 years of experience in student ministry and a bachelor of arts in biblical studies and the history of ideas from the College at Southeastern. He and his wife, Heather, have two children. You can learn more about Daniel at his website or follow him on Twitter.

Scott Slayton 4/17/18 Scott Slayton 4/17/18

Put Down Your Phone, Pick Up Your Cross, and Follow Jesus

I am convinced that one of the greatest enemies of joyful living is our constant addiction to technology. Because we spend so much time staring at our phones, we don’t have the productivity at our jobs that we should, we don’t spend enough time outside, we ignore our spiritual disciplines, and we spend too much of the time that we spend with people staring at our phones.

This year, I have worked through several books that address this issue. The book that has had the most influence on my thinking about technology this year is Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World, by Georgetown Associate Professor of Computer Science Cal Newport. This book changed the way I think about my work and, as I continue to reflect on the book, my walk with the Lord.

THE DEEP WORK OF SPIRITUAL LIFE

Newport argues that deep work, work which requires hours of focused concentration, is increasingly rare and valuable in our culture. The type of concentration we need to do good work is difficult because we are living in a distracted world.

If distraction makes work difficult, how much more difficult does it make our spiritual lives? We struggle to spend time in our Bibles because of our distractions, our minds wander when we are in prayer, and we find corporate worship difficult because the forty-minute sermon is longer than our declining attention spans can handle.

If we struggle to develop our walk with the Lord because we spend most of our time distracted by shallow things, can we adjust our lives and eliminate distractions? Yes, I think so. Here are 5 tips for following Jesus in a distracted world.

CULTIVATE A DEEP WALK THROUGH TIME IN HIS WORD

Yes, every post about growing spiritually begins with a discussion about time in the Bible. I make no apologies for this and don’t intend to amend my practice anytime soon. We need God’s word. The Bible’s own testimony about itself shows how desperately we need it. Moses spoke of the man not living by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God. Jesus quoted this passage during his temptations in the wilderness. The psalmist describes the Bible as a lamp to our feet and a light to our path.

What if you committed to going to bed twenty minutes earlier so you can wake up to read God’s Word before you start your day? How much different would your walk with the Lord be if, over the course of a month, you spent almost ten hours basking in the glow of God’s beautiful Bible?

You only have to do two things to make it happen: put down your phone or turn off the TV so you can go to sleep earlier, and do not grab your phone first thing in the morning when you wake up. Instead, work on the discipline of not looking at your phone or turning on the TV until you have set your heart upon the Word of God.

When you read the Bible, make sure you are paying close attention to it. Most of us have slaughtered our attention spans, so do whatever you have to do to make sure that your head is in the game when you are reading. Read with a pencil and journal in your hand so you can jot down notes or underline things that strike you. Do everything you can to get into God’s Word and do not walk away from it until you have allowed it to bear down on your heart.

CULTIVATE A DEEP WALK THROUGH TIME IN PRAYER

If we think our minds wander during a sermon, it is nothing compared with how they wander when we’re praying. In prayer, we commune with the God who made the whole world and gave his Son to bring us back to him. What should capture our attention more than that?

You must devise strategies that will help you have laser-like focus. First, do not think of Bible reading and prayer as two separate and unrelated activities. Instead, look at one as feeding the other. I recommend finding at least one thing in your Bible reading that can jumpstart your prayer time. Did you see sin that you need to confess? Did you read a promise that you need faith to believe? Was there a command that you need help obeying?

Also, use a journal or a list when you pray. This can be a list of people you are praying for and of things going on in your own life that you need to bring before the Lord. You may want to write out your prayers while you say them so you stay engaged and your mind does not wander. In addition, when you do this you can read over your prayers years later and be encouraged by how the Lord has been at work.

You may wonder where you will “find” the time to do this. You will not “find” the time. Life does not work that way. You must make time by ruthlessly cutting out things that are of little or no importance so you can make time for things that are of supreme importance.

CULTIVATE A DEEP WALK BY MAKING TIME FOR PEOPLE

We experience an interesting paradox in the digital age: we are connected to more people in more places than ever, yet we are lonelier than ever. Very little of the time we spend connected to others takes place in face-to-face conversations, around the dinner table, or working together on a shared project. Unfortunately, we spend much of our time in the presence of other people looking at our own screens.

When we function like this, we miss many of the blessings of following Jesus. When you are reading the New Testament, look carefully at every occurrence of the words “one another.” Can we experience the value of true Christian community while we sit in our homes and stare at a phone? Of course not! The one another passages beckon us out of our cocoons and into real life with other people. When we do this, we get the blessing of being an encouragement to them and experience them being a blessing to us.

In community, we discover areas where we struggle with sin and need to grow. When we walk with others, we learn where we are deceiving ourselves and where we have blind spots. While this sounds like bad news, it is actually a great grace to us. Through seeing our sins in community, we can repent and grow with the help of other believers. We are not on our own in the struggle. Maybe some of the powerlessness in our own personal walk with the Lord and in the witness of our churches comes from our neglecting time with each other.

CULTIVATE A DEEP WALK BY MAKING TIME FOR CORPORATE WORSHIP

There was a time in the life of American Christianity when we measured our involvement in the local church by how many times we were engaged each week. Now we measure it by how many times we attend in a month. I have no desire to return to the days when something was going on at the church building every night of the week. It was not healthy, and we did not give people enough time to spend with their families and neighbors.

But we have gone way too far in the other direction. When you consider that we are being discipled by the world every day, worship with the church twice a month is not sufficient to grow as a believer. How can we grow when we are neglecting the means God has given to help us grow?

If you have so much going on in your life that you are too tired to worship with the church on Sunday, cut something out. If you are too busy to do what God has commanded, you are too busy. Make time for the Sunday worship gathering. Allow nothing but providential hindrances to come in the way. When you come into worship, bring a physical copy of the Bible, turn off your phone, talk to the people around you, and completely engage in worship with the body.

Your time in worship will be more beneficial. You will discover that while one sermon may not change your life, repeated exposure to God’s Word week after week will. You will find that you learn those songs you claim not to know when you sing them more often. The people you say you never see will become more familiar to you. Partaking in communion more often will not cheapen its meaning but will make it a vital means of grace in your life.

CULTIVATE A DEEP WALK BY KNOWING WHAT IS TRULY IMPORTANT

Although I wrote the first draft of this on a typewriter, this has not been a screed against technology. Technology is a good thing when it is a tool that we use. It becomes dangerous when it is something that is using us.

We must learn to be master of these tools and not their slaves. So, we must reacquaint ourselves with the things in our lives that matter most. We need to give them the priority they are due so we can cultivate a walk with the Lord that goes deeper than we have ever gone before.

A while back, my doctor told me that I need to lose weight. Since she ended her speech to me with “and I’ll be praying for you,” I’m assuming she was serious. Waking up at 4:30 a.m. to work out has not been fun, and I wish I could eat more chocolate, but after a month I feel better, have more energy, and my clothes fit better. It has been worth it.

In the same way, putting down our devices at night and getting to bed earlier will not be easy. Cutting down on our weekend activities means saying “no” to things we would like to say “yes” to. However, we find that in saying “no” to mundane things, we get to say “yes” to things that things that are better and more beautiful.

Being dazzled by God’s Word is better than being entertained by one more show on Netflix or one more scroll through your Facebook news feed. The encouragement from time in prayer before the Father is infinitely better than bathing in social media gossip. The correction or encouragement of a Christian friend to your face is worth way more than hundreds of likes from people you never see.

When we cultivate a deep walk with the Lord, we are not denying ourselves the best things in life—we are cutting out things that bring no lasting satisfaction so we can have the infinite and lasting joy that only God can give.

Scott Slayton (M.Div., SBTS) serves as Lead Pastor at Chelsea Village Baptist Church in Chelsea, Alabama. Scott and his wife Beth have four children: Hannah, Sarah Kate, Leah, and Matt. He regularly writes at his personal blog One Degree to Another.

Jen Oshman 4/15/18 Jen Oshman 4/15/18

Lay Down Your Life For a Lasting Marriage

The glass sun face hanging in our bathroom tells a story. It’s from our honeymoon nineteen years ago. On our last night in Ixtapa, Mexico, my husband and I had just enough money after dinner for either a taxi ride back to our hotel or to purchase this souvenir, but not both. Convinced my brand-new husband really liked the sun face, I encouraged him to buy it. And, as we walked the hilly two miles back, he carried the package and congratulated himself on securing a treasure his wife clearly wanted.

Not long after getting back to our hotel room, I said, “I’m so glad we got that sun face for you.”

Incredulous, my husband said, “What? We didn’t get that for me. We got that for you.”

We love that story. We still repeat it to one another and laugh about it. The story the sun face tells is that on our honeymoon we were eager to walk miles in the heat to make the other happy.

All these years later, I can tell you the preferential treatment of our honeymoon hasn’t remained our default behavior. Rather, like all couples, as the days and years progressed we began to live transactionally.

TRANSACTIONAL LIVING

Transactional living looks like this: I’ll do this for you, if you do that for me. But if you don’t keep up your end of the deal, I’m not keeping mine either.

If you work all day, I’ll cook dinner. If I do the taxes, you have to schedule the babysitters. I’m willing to mow the lawn if you do the laundry.

Or if you’re selfish, don’t expect me to be generous. If you’re critical, I will be too. And if I feel like you’re not listening to me, I’m not going to listen to you either.

In a transactional marriage, we keep a secret scoreboard in our heads, tallying our own good deeds alongside the misdeeds of the other. Not surprisingly, we always are in the lead, sure we are outperforming our spouses.

Aware of this human condition, Paul tells us “not to think of [ourselves] more highly than [we] ought to think, but to think with sober judgment” (Rom. 12:3).

Our internal scorekeeping is not only rigged and inaccurate, but it steals our joy. The practice of picking apart our spouse’s shortcomings only begets more picking. It’s a vicious cycle. Our flesh is insatiable.

If we want any hope of a joy-filled marriage, we must heed Paul’s words, given in the same breath as his instruction above, to view ourselves with sober judgment. He says, “by the mercies of God … present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Rom. 12:1-2).

Rather than following the worldly model of transactional living, we are called to renew our minds. Here are four methods of renewing our minds in the midst of marriage.

1. LOOK TO JESUS AS OUR MODEL

Jesus, “though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil. 2:6-8).

Our Savior, himself the God of all creation, left his throne in heaven, put on flesh, and came to Earth to rescue us. He, who knew no sin, took our sin upon himself, giving us his righteousness instead (2 Cor. 5:21). There has never been, nor will there ever be, a greater injustice.

In the midst of marital strife, in a season when I am prone to keep score, I try to remember Jesus’s example. If he—though perfect—was willing to die for me, how much more willing should I—being far from perfect—be willing to serve my spouse? The cross brings perspective.

2. REMEMBER PAUL’S INSTRUCTIONS

Throughout the New Testament we see a variety of instructions from Paul to wives and husbands as to how we should treat one another. What is key, though, is that the instructions are given in the context of worship. Paul tells us to love our spouses in the name of Jesus.

Right before imparting specific marital instructions in his letter to the Colossians, Paul said, “whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Col. 3:17). Our treatment of our spouses is meant to flow from our love for Jesus and our gratitude to the Father.

Paul does not tell us to treat our spouses well because it’s the right thing to do. He doesn’t say to serve them because they deserve it. Through Paul, God commands us to sacrificially love our spouses because God himself deserves it. Our kindness in marriage is “to the Lord” (Eph. 4:22).

When our spouses sin against us, and when we are tempted to withhold goodness because they have wronged us, we can remember Paul’s exhortation. We serve Jesus above all. Our tenderness in marriage is in Jesus’ name.

3. ACKNOWLEDGE THAT GOD PROVIDES STRENGTH

Any married person past their honeymoon knows serving your spouse is not automatic. Our flesh is quick to serve itself and we want to be served by others. Just as our salvation was not secured by our own strength, neither are our good works. Like Paul said, it is “not [our] own doing; it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8).

In order to avoid transactional living, in order to “do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than [ourselves]” (Phil. 2:3), we must remember that “it is God who works in [us], both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:13).

If we are to have any hope in marriage, any expectation of longevity and happiness and unity, we must call on Christ to work through us.

4. BELIEVE THIS FOR YOUR JOY

The counter-intuitive truth of the Christian life is that joy is granted when we deny ourselves. Our Savior endured the cross “for the joy set before him” (Heb. 12:2). In the same way, when we seek the good of our spouse, when we forsake ourselves, we find joy.

Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 16:24-25).

We find our lives when we follow our Lord and pour ourselves out. When we treat our spouses preferentially, it is for their good, for our joy, and for the glory of God.

This laying-down lifestyle is the opposite of a transactional lifestyle. This way asks, How can I bless you? What do you need? In this kind of marriage, spouses keep no record of wrongs—or rights.

Rather, they give a blessing for a cursing. They honor one another above themselves. They emulate their Savior. And they find not only a lasting marriage, but lasting joy.

Jen Oshman is a wife and mom to four daughters and has served as a missionary for 17 years on three continents. She currently resides in Colorado where she and her husband serve with Pioneers International, and she encourages her church-planting husband at Redemption Parker. Her passion is leading women to a deeper faith and fostering a biblical worldview. She writes at www.jenoshman.com.

Gordon T. Smith 4/12/18 Gordon T. Smith 4/12/18

3 Forms of Prayer That End Up Forming Us

Prayer has a formative impact on our lives—the manner or form of our prayers actually shapes the contours and character of our lives. So frequently, it would seem, our prayers begin with our experience: something in our lives occasions a particular prayer, typically a petition or request. And thus the content of our prayers is determined by what is happening in our lives. But perhaps the reverse should actually be the norm. Without doubt, the circumstances of our lives will inform our prayers. But perhaps what should be happening is that our prayers would inform our lives, that our praying would alter our living, that our prayers would shape the contours and content of our daily experience.

PRAYER AS FORMATION

In this way of living and praying, we would allow our deepest convictions—our faith and our theological vision of God, ourselves, and our world—to inform our prayers and be the means by which we know the transforming power of grace in our lives. More particularly, we would choose that the reign of Christ—the kingdom of God—would increasingly be that which defines our lives, our ways of being, living, and responding to our world. We would find that the salvation of God is not merely something that God has done for us—in Christ, on the cross—but also something that God is doing in us.

To this end, our prayers play a crucial role. Indeed, if transformation does not happen through our prayers, it likely does not happen. This is why it is so crucial that we teach new Christians how to pray and that in our patterns and approaches to congregational life we are consistently coming back to the fundamentals of prayer. And this is why all of us, older and newer Christians alike, are always coming back to the basics of the form and structure of formative prayer.

When we pray “thy kingdom come,” should not our prayer be an act of recalibration? Could our praying be an act of intentional alignment and realignment? That is, in our prayer our vision of the kingdom purposes of God will be deepened and broadened; we will be drawn into the reality of Christ risen and now on the throne of the universe. And thus through our prayers we not only pray for the kingdom but also come to increasingly live within the kingdom, under the reign of Christ.

This last point is crucial. So frequently we pray as though God is passive and we are trying to get God to act. But could it be that God is always active? And that in our praying we are aware of how God is actually always at work, bringing his kingdom into effect, and we are seeing and responding to the kingdom even as we pray “thy kingdom come”? In the process, we are increasingly more aligned and in tune with the kingdom, more and more living our lives, individually and in community, in a manner that consistently reflects, in word and deed, the coming kingdom of God.

3 MOVEMENTS IN OUR PRAYERS

Can we do this? Certainly, but only if we are intentional. We need to consider the merits of a very focused and purposeful approach to our prayers. Yes, there is a place for spontaneity. And most certainly there is a place for freeform prayers where we express to God our immediate thoughts and feelings. But when we speak of our formation in Christ and our participation in the kingdom—where the kingdom of God increasingly defines us more than anything else—we should perhaps be focused and purposeful. We can consider the value of consistency and even routine, an approach to prayer that has an order to it. We can even speak of a liturgy, meaning that our prayers have a regular pattern to them so that over time our hearts and minds and lives are increasingly conformed to the very thing for which we are praying.

In this kind of intentionality it is very helpful to think in terms of three movements in our prayers, three forms of prayer by which we respond to and learn to live in the reality that Christ is risen and active in our world—that in and through Christ the reign of God is coming. Three movements, with an intentional sequence.

First, we give thanks. We see and respond with gratitude to the ways in which God is already at work in our world and in our lives. We begin here. We begin by seeing the evidence of the reign of Christ—the ways that God is already at work in our lives and in our world. And we give thanks. We pray “thy kingdom come” in a way that not only acknowledges that God is already at work but celebrates and gives thanks for this work. We cannot pray “thy kingdom come” if we are not grateful for how the kingdom has come and is coming. Thanksgiving is foundational to the Christian life and thus foundational to prayer.

Second, we make confession—the essential realignment of those who long to live under the reign of Christ. We pray “thy kingdom come,” and very soon we also pray—if we follow the sequence of the Lord’s Prayer—“forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” We practice confession. It is clear from Scripture that when the kingdom is announced and when the kingdom is at hand—present, in our midst, and recognized—we respond with confession (Mark 1:15).

Confession is essential if we truly recognize and believe in the coming of the kingdom. If we have kingdom eyes, the genius of our response is that we see where there is a disconnect. We see and feel that our lives are not being lived ina way that is consistent with the kingdom. We cannot pray “your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” unless and until we see the ways that our lives are not lived in consistency with the will of God. And so, recognizing the kingdom, we repent: we practice confession. Repentance, then, is not merely a matter of feeling bad about something we have said or done, but rather an act of intentional alignment—or better, realignment—with the coming of the reign of Christ.

And third, we practice discernment—considering where and how God is calling us to speak and act as participants in the kingdom of God. We pray “thy kingdom come” as those who are also called to be full participants, in word and deed, in what God is doing in the world. And so when we pray we of course ask—or better, discern—how we are called in our lives to witness to the kingdom.

We are not merely observers; we are engaged. We are invited—more, actually called as agents of God’s purposes in the world. Our words and our deeds matter. In some mysterious way, even though God and God alone brings about the kingdom, our lives witness to the kingdom—our words, our work. And so when we pray “thy kingdom come,” we also necessarily must pray, How, oh Lord, are you calling me to make a difference in your kingdom purposes for our world?

Gordon T. Smith (PhD, Loyola School of Theology, Ateneo de Manila University) is the president of Ambrose University and Seminary in Calgary, Alberta, where he also serves as professor of systematic and spiritual theology. He is an ordained minister with the Christian and Missionary Alliance and a teaching fellow at Regent College, Vancouver, British Columbia. He is the author of many books, including Courage and Calling, Called to Be Saints, Spiritual Direction, Consider Your Calling, and The Voice of Jesus.

Elliot Toman 4/10/18 Elliot Toman 4/10/18

Mourning Our Way to Joy

When I resigned from the church I worked at for fifteen years, I transitioned into the world of business. There were consequences I didn’t see coming. God opened a role as an associate at an eCommerce company. Over the course of the first year, I realized that my projects were bringing me into an ethical arena I was unprepared for. It became clear that I could only continue earning a steady paycheck if I was willing to work in shades of gray I previously would have rejected. I chose to compromise.

This plunge into the world of commerce changed my perspective on Christian morality. I developed strong opinions on subjects about which I had previously been ambivalent. For example, while working on an online store selling tattoo and piercing supplies, I got a glimpse into the body modification community and saw a deep darkness in it; a desire for mutual acceptance predicated on pain and exhibition. I came to see commercialism and consumerism as powers and principalities—forces that enslave people while making them feel as if they are in control; things that pretend to be God but aren’t. Idols that, by action or inaction, I was helping to build.

I began to mourn. I mourned the loss of my ministry position and its relative simplicity. I mourned the state of the world and the lostness of the people I share it with. I mourned my own weakness and willingness to compromise when my livelihood is on the line.

BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO MOURN

Scripture has much to say about mourning. Some books of the Bible are dedicated to it. Jesus addresses mourning in one of his Beatitude declarations at the very beginning of his revolutionary Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matt. 5:4)”

Jesus doesn’t specify why a person is mourning, or when they can expect to be comforted. He simply promises that they will be. What are we to make of this?

Mourning is the second of eight Beatitudes, and therefore can be seen as the second step into the reality of what Jesus calls the kingdom of heaven. If we view these steps progressively, one following the other, then we can suppose that poverty of spirit, the first step (Matt. 5:3), is the key that opens the gate, and mourning is what carries us over the threshold.

As with each Beatitude, this assertion is surprising and counterintuitive. In the previous verse, Jesus claims that poverty is desirable because it opens the kingdom to us. Now he assures us that a state of mourning is positive because the comfort of the kingdom will be found on the other side. What is Jesus getting at?

HOW DID JESUS MOURN?

For any principle Jesus upholds, we can safely assume he is the best possible example of it. Jesus chose to lay down his glory and come to us as a human (Phil. 2:8)—and his response was to mourn.

In the gospel accounts, we find him looking with compassion on crowds of people because they are “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matt. 9:6). He grieves over the stubbornness of Jerusalem (Matt. 23:27), despairs over the hypocrisy of the religious teachers (Matt. 23:16), and weeps over the body of a dead friend (John 11:35). While Jesus certainly wasn’t joyless, he did not see the purpose of his time on earth to be pleasure or comfort. He was acutely aware of the misery surrounding him in the form of sickness, spiritual oppression, and injustice.

He was also aware of the suffering that awaited him in his own torture and murder. So, he said, “Blessed are you who weep now . . . but woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep” (Luke 6:21, 25). This reinforces a strong Biblical theme: that mourning is better than laughter, and to pursue comfort and pleasure in this world is to forego it in the next.

We see in his example three compelling reasons to adopt an attitude of mourning.

REASONS TO MOURN

First, we mourn for what we leave behind as followers of Christ. When anything that was once precious to us is left behind, we must undergo a process of grieving in order to face a world in which that thing is no longer part of our lives. This could mean sin, or it could simply mean things that distract us from our missional purpose as Christians. Jesus recognized that over-attachment to his family would distract him from his mission (Luke 8:21). Once, when a man expressed a desire to follow Jesus, the Lord replied, “Birds have nests and foxes have holes, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” In other words, the crucified life cost Jesus—and it will cost us, too. Grieving in this sense means to fully accept that there are things we once cherished that can no longer be with us.

Second, we mourn for our own sin. Jesus did not have sins to mourn, but he certainly grieved over the sins of others. My proclivity to sin is the single greatest barrier between myself and Jesus. It hinders my prayers, poisons my relationships, and hampers my willingness to come boldly before the throne of God. We cannot enter the kingdom of heaven if we have a comfortable relationship with sin. As soon as a sin is revealed in my life, I must be willing to leave it behind—to mourn its passing and let it go, knowing that I’m pressing on towards something much more satisfying. “Men loved the darkness instead of the light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). We sin because we love it. And like anything we love, letting go of it will grieve us.

Finally, once we’ve learned to grieve over our own sin, we find Jesus’ heart in mourning for sin and death in the world. No longer taking delight (openly or secretly) in the shame, futility, and ignorance that defines life under the sun, we become more and more preoccupied with helping those around us recognize the true and eternal hope of life in the Son. Deeply aware of our own brokenness, we do not approach the world as a judge pronouncing a verdict, but rather as a nurse serving under the Great Physician (John 3:17, Mark 2:17).

MOURNING OUR WAY TO JOY

Christ-centered mourning does not manifest in depression; it does not lead us to a joyless, judgmental life. Instead, it leads us to focus on what’s truly important. The joy of the world comes from deceit and distraction as we try to ignore, delay, or minimize the coming of death. The joy of the Lord is grounded in truth and reality—that Jesus has passed through death and into life, and that his hand is extended to each of us to do the same.

Death is real; pain is real; suffering is real. But God is more real. And so we mourn confidently, knowing that our mourning will one day give way to joy.

Elliot Toman lives with his wife and four children in Kingston, New York, where he is an aspiring church planter. He spends his spare time studying the Bible, publishing comics and occasionally writing about the church and Christian life.

Mike Phay 4/8/18 Mike Phay 4/8/18

10 Reasons Your Anger Isn’t Righteous

A frenzied young rabbi runs helter-skelter through holiday crowds. He upends tables, scatters gold and silver, and sends animals and humans fleeing in every direction. Those with sense run for the exits, not eager to find themselves on the business end of this mad Galilean’s handmade whip (see John 2:15). Others, with more greed than sense, dive after loose coins and lost profits.

This episode must have made an impression on Jesus’ disciples, as it’s one of the few stories that made its way into all four Gospels. It is hands down, the wildest depiction of Jesus we have. Rather than “gentle Jesus, meek and mild,” we’re presented with “angry Jesus, zealous and wild.” Here is a shockingly aggressive, courageous, passionate, intense Messiah. Paint his face blue and give him a Scottish accent, and any one of us might be inspired to follow him into battle.

This is angry Jesus.

And if Jesus can get angry, can I?

If we’re honest, this whip-brandishing Jesus is the same Jesus we too easily invoke to justify our own anger. If there is such a thing as righteous indignation, most of our anger probably is justified, right? And if the Bible tells us to “be angry and do not sin” (Eph. 4:26, emphasis added) then maybe we’ve got a green light for our rage.

But the Scriptures don’t give us leeway for such faulty logic. Consider, for example, the words of James: “Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God” (Jas. 1:19-20).

James is speaking not of righteous anger, but the more common “anger of man,” which is directed by human passions and desires (see Jas. 4:1-3).

Most of the anger we justify as “righteous”—the flare-ups and frustrations caused by petty annoyances or personal affronts—isn’t righteous at all. Here are ten reasons why.

1. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT DOESN'T PRODUCE RIGHTEOUSNESS

“The anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God” (Jas. 1:20).

If human anger was a machine, no raw material fed into the front end could create an output of righteousness. No amount of tinkering, adjustment, or redesign would produce goodness. It’s simply not the right kind of machine. Has your anger ever resulted in good things in your life?

2. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU

Human anger may claim to be all about righteousness when, in reality, it’s all about self. We reason something along these lines: Someone has sinned against me, and sin displeases God. I care about God’s feelings and am commanded to imitate him. Therefore, my displeasure at this sin—really, my anger at this person—is justified.

This logic, natural as it seems, ultimately aims at preserving self rather than upholding God’s glory. Sin displeases God primarily because it’s an affront to his glory, yet I’m angry because someone has sinned against me. Sadly, I use God’s glory to justify my own anger.

The common denominator of human anger is self-preservation. This is what it’s for, thereby setting it against any threat to the self. Righteous anger, on the other hand, postures itself for the preservation of God’s honor, and against any threats to it (including sin). The common denominator of righteous anger is the preservation of God’s honor.

Twenty years of pastoral work has, at times, given me a front-row seat to the furious self-preservation that arises when a person’s idols are threatened. The most common idol is the human ego. Thankfully, Christ frees us from our natural human tendency to protect ourselves:

“For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised” (2 Cor. 5:14-15).

Because we belong to him, we are freed from the burden of self-preservation.

3. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT FEEDS OFF ENMITY

Jesus said it most clearly: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:43-44).

We often use “justified anger” to keep enemies in their proper place as enemies, and in the process fail to keep the love command. Jesus provides a relational reason for this most difficult of commands: “so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:45a).

Children naturally tend to act like their parents, embodying family traits and living out family values. Our Father sets the family standard by loving those who hate him and transforming enemies into family members. As the ultimate peacemaker, he calls his children to imitate him: “Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus says. Why? “For they shall be sons of God” (Matt. 5:9).

The Apostle Paul directs believers to “live peaceably with all” (Rom. 12:18), a mode of life that will naturally shrink one’s circle of enemies. But when anger is given space to feed off enmity, it subverts peacemaking, stifles reconciliation, and kindles conflict.

4. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT CULTIVATES A CROP OF BITTERNESS

“Strive for peace with everyone … See to it that … no ‘root of bitterness’ springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled” (Heb. 12:14,15).

The relational crop produced by anger includes bitterness, among other things. Righteous relational stewardship, on the other hand, severs anger at its roots, prevents bitterness, and nurtures peace.

5. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT TAKES JUSTICE INTO YOUR OWN HANDS

“Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay’ ” (Rom. 12:19).

Human anger keeps records of offenses and takes responsibility for revenge. When an offense is mainly against me (rather than God), then I suppose justice lies within my power. I become the judge, putting myself in God’s place, and arrogantly take justice into my own hands.

Human anger is a brand of unbelief—a failure to trust God to bring the justice he has promised. Faith, on the other hand, exchanges anger for trust and leaves justice where it belongs: in God’s hands.

6. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT'S CONSUMING YOU

“Do not be overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom. 12:21).

Anger has an uncanny ability to overcome and control us, yet God would have us control it. Often our anger becomes all-consuming, dominating our emotions, our moods, our attitudes. It even affects our physical health, sleep, and productivity. Like a fire that rages out of control, anger running wild threatens to burn us up in the process.

7. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT'S BEEN GIVEN TIME TO FESTER

“Do not let the sun go down on your anger” (Eph. 4:26).

This verse does not clearly prohibit anger—it simply imposes a time limit. Paul recognizes the fallenness of human relationships, the daily temptation to anger, and the constant necessity of repentance. This is a call to reconciliation, not a blanket permission for unqualified rage during daylight hours.

And even if Paul does allow room for “righteous anger,” he protects us from its fermentation. Human nature can easily turn even righteous indignation into sin. Therefore, we must not hold on to it for one moment longer than is necessary.

8. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE THE DEVIL BENEFITS FROM IT

“And give no opportunity to the devil” (Eph. 4:27).

Anger—especially when cultivated, nurtured, and allowed to fester—is the devil’s playground. A murderer from the beginning, the devil loves anger and is keenly aware of its slippery slope. Unfettered anger plays into his hands, pays him homage, and furthers an agenda opposed to God.

9. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT'LL COME BACK TO BITE YOU

“Everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment” (Matt. 5:22).

Jesus calls attention to the eternal consequences of anger. Not only does it affect us and those around us in the present, but its effects could remain with us forever. When we heap burning coals on our own heads, we’re liable to carry the scars forever.

10. YOUR ANGER ISN'T RIGHTEOUS BECAUSE IT AVOIDS FORGIVENESS

“But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matt. 6:15).

Human anger refuses to consider forgiveness as an option, but Jesus’ words are clear: forgiveness unextended implies forgiveness unaccepted. The ultimate moral ugliness in the New Testament is a refusal to forgive.

But forgiveness is difficult. As Tim Keller writes, “When you forgive, that means you absorb the loss and the debt. You bear it yourself. All forgiveness, then, is costly.”

We don’t want to pay that debt. We are often unwilling to take on that cost because it feels like a loss for us.

In Christ, we have access to a forgiveness that absorbs our debt. Whereas my anger is for me at everyone else’s expense, Christ’s love is for me at his own expense. In him, we encounter a love that is completely for us. The one who has every right to be angry with sinners chooses to absorb his own anger. In the mysterious beauty of Christ’s love, we are freed from the prison of our own anger and provided with the freedom and resources to forgive.

Mike Phay serves as Lead Pastor at FBC Prineville (Oregon) and as a Staff Writer at Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He has been married to Keri for over 20 years, and they have five amazing kids. You can follow him on Twitter (@mikephay) or check out his blog.

Danny Akin 4/5/18 Danny Akin 4/5/18

What I Didn't Learn in Seminary: How to Shepherd My Wife

My wife, Charlotte, and I got married young. She was nineteen and I was twenty-one. I came from a good Christian home. My parents and grandparents were all Christians. Charlotte, in stark contrast, came out of a broken home. Both of her parents were alcoholics. They divorced when she was seven. At age nine she, her sister, and her brother were placed in the Georgia Baptist Children’s Home, where she lived until she was eighteen. During those years she almost never saw her parents. Her father did not attend our wedding, though he lived in the Atlanta area where we were married.

I say all this to point out that we came into our marriage with very different perspectives and expectations. I knew what a good home was and recognized that good was good. Perfection, though the ideal, would not be reached in this life since marriage is two sinners (saved by grace if they know Jesus!) living in close proximity.

Charlotte was absolutely determined not to follow in the footsteps of her parents. She was going to have the perfect marriage if it killed us both (and it nearly did on more than a few occasions)!

Add to this that we had no premarital counseling, for three reasons: (1) The year before we married, I attended Bible college in Dallas, and she was in Atlanta living with my parents. (2) The week before we married, our pastor—who married us—announced that he and his wife were getting a divorce. The one time we did meet with him, he apologized through tears, saying he really did not feel he could say anything to us. (3) In almost seven years of Bible college and seminary, I had exactly one class on marriage and family, which came outside my seminary education. I have no memory of a discussion on the home in seminary. None at all.

Given this background, you can imagine that our early days of marriage were quite challenging. Some were downright trying. Charlotte and I loved each other, and divorce was never an option, but all was not blissful, and the sailing was not smooth. We had some tough days.

I am writing this piece having just celebrated our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary. I can honestly say that outside of Jesus, nothing has brought me more happiness and joy than being a husband, father, and grandfather. But it has been hard work, and no one in seminary ever told me it would be. I have learned through the years and in the school of “hard knocks” that there are things I could have done to shepherd my wife more effectively and lovingly. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn these things during my years in seminary.

I have had the joy of doing marriage and family conferences for several decades. You could say it is my spiritual hobby. Charlotte says I need to do at least one a month because I keep forgetting what I teach! Unfortunately, there is quite a bit of truth in those words.

When it comes to husbands, I first do an exposition of Ephesians 5:25–33. Then, I build on that foundation, draw from other relevant passages, and share seven practical ways to bless your wife day in and day out. I would argue that these ideas are true for every husband. I would also argue that they are especially needful for those who shepherd God’s flock. I wish I had been taught these things in seminary. But better later than never.

7 WAYS TO BLESS YOUR WIFE

A husband can be a blessing to his wife by loving her as Christ loved the church and giving her specific gifts of love. Here are seven:

1. Be a spiritual leader. Be a man of godly courage, conviction, commitment, compassion, and character. Take the initiative in cultivating a spiritual environment for your family. Become a capable and competent student of Scripture, and live all of life on the basis of God’s Word. Nurture your wife in her growth as a woman of God, and take the lead in training your children in the things of the Lord (Psalm 1; Eph. 5:23–27).

2. Give your wife personal affirmation and appreciation. Praise her personal attributes and qualities. Speak of her virtues as a wife, mother, and homemaker. Openly commend her in the hearing of others as a marvelous mate, friend, lover, and companion. Help her feel that no one in this world is more important to you (Prov. 31:28– 29; Song 4:1–7; 6:4–9; 7:1–9).

3. Show personal affection (romance). Shower her with timely and generous displays of affection. Tell her how much you care for her with a steady flow of words, cards, flowers, gifts, and common courtesies. Remember, affection is the environment in which sexual union is enjoyed more fully and a wonderful marriage is developed (Song 6:10, 13; Eph. 5:28–29, 33).

4. Initiate intimate conversation. Talk with her at the level of feelings (heart to heart). Listen to her thoughts (her heart) about the events of her day with sensitivity, interest, and concern. Let your conversations with her convey a desire to understand her—not to change her (Song 2:8–14; 8:13–14; 1 Pet. 3:7). Changing her is God’s job, not yours.

5. Always be honest and open. Look into her eyes and, in love, always tell her the truth (Eph. 4:15). Explain your plans and actions clearly and completely because you are responsible for her. Lead her to trust you and feel secure (Prov. 15:22–23).

6. Provide home support and stability. Shoulder the responsibility to house, feed, and clothe your family. Provide and protect, and resist feeling sorry for yourself when things get tough. Look for concrete ways to improve home life. Raise your marriage and family to a safer and more fulfilling level. Remember, the husband and father is the security hub of the family (1 Tim. 5:8).

7. Demonstrate family commitment. After the Lord Jesus, put your wife and family first. Commit time and energy to spiritual, moral, and intellectual development of your children. For example, pray with them (especially at night at bedside), read to them, engage in sports with them, and take them on other outings. Do not play the fool’s game of working long hours, trying to get ahead, while your spouse and children languish in neglect (Eph. 6:4; Col. 3:19–20).[1]

These are things I did not learn in seminary. I had to learn them in life. And I’m grateful I learned them from expositing the Word of God!

Content taken from 15 Things Seminary Couldn't Teach Me edited by Collin Hansen and Jeff Robinson Sr., ©2018. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

[1] For related discussion, see also Daniel L. Akin, “Pastor as Husband and Father,” in Portraits of a Pastor: The 9 Essential Roles of a Church Leader, ed. Jason K. Allen (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2017), and Akin, Exalting Jesus in Song of Songs (Nashville: B&H, 2015).

Daniel L. Akin is president of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, North Carolina, and is a council member with The Gospel Coalition.

Zach Barnhart 4/3/18 Zach Barnhart 4/3/18

A Light In the Dark Places

In J.R.R. Tolkien’s classic The Lord of the Rings trilogy, a royal elf named Galadriel gives Frodo Baggins a splendid gift—light from the “beloved star” Earendil, captured within a small crystal that Frodo may use to light the way should he find himself in the dark. Without giving too much away, let’s just say Galadriel’s foresight turned out to be useful for a very sticky situation. The brilliance of the star of Earendil is fiction, but it gives us a glimpse of the true brilliance found in the Son of Man, the true radiance of the glory of Christ himself (Heb. 1:3). No light is purer for our path or brighter to our eyes than his unapproachable and marvelous light (1 Tim. 6:6; 1 Pet. 2:9).

This very light—stunningly—has been offered to us for our own journeys. “The true light . . . gives light to everyone” (John 1:9). But what is this light exactly? As David reflected on the gift of light for his Christian journey, he sings, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Ps. 119:105, emphasis mine).

It is incongruous that many believers can rehearse those very words from David by memory and yet live as if such a gift is unnecessary. The light has lost its luster in our eyes. We start to complain when troubles come our way. We ask God to give us a sign for which way to turn, but we haven’t turned the lamp on. If his Word is our lamp and a light for the road, why do we always neglect to pack it for the trip?

We all know that obstacles on the path of life are inevitable realities. Perhaps you feel the weight of your own trials and troubles right now. You feel that all the lights have gone out. Where can you turn for guidance? Each of us needs God’s Word if we have any hope of walking the road without stumbling or getting off-course.

HIDDEN LIGHT

Scripture memorization, or the practice of hiding God’s Word in our hearts, is the premier way we are guided by the lamp and light. It is not simply God’s Word with us, but in us. To read God’s Word is good; to reflect on it is better; to pray it is better still. But to know and feel his Word is altogether best. When the Word takes root in our hearts and minds, the light becomes brighter along our paths and no darkness will be too great.

In his book Moonwalking With Einstein: The Art and Science of Remembering Everything, journalist Joshua Foer tells the story of his journey from covering the United States Memory Championship to him competing in—and winning—the event a year later. He trained his mind to suddenly be able to memorize the order of two shuffled decks of cards or recall hundreds of random faces paired with random names, all within a few short minutes.

But in a book full of insight on memorization, it is Foer’s off-hand remark about halfway through that struck me: “In a tight spot, where could one look for guidance about how to act, if not the depths of memory?”

Foer’s book was not meant to be an exercise in spiritual disciplines, but the implications for Scripture memorization are obvious. Just as we all memorize the layout of our bedrooms and bathrooms enough to be able to navigate them safely in the dark morning hours, so we have also been invited to know God’s Word in the midst of dark times. In our trials, it is not the visible light that counts so much as the “hidden light” within us. God’s Word helps us navigate life when the path ahead is dimly lit.

JUST DO IT

I know what you are thinking at this point. The idea of Scripture memorization sounds like a nice idea, but you already have written it off. You may see the value in all of these challenges to hide God’s Word in your heart, but still think it beyond your ability. You explain your own need for Bible memorization away, saying it is not in your spiritual gift mix.

But have you really tried it?

Most of us, sadly, have not. We assume Bible memorization requires an intellectual capacity beyond what God has given us. That would be awfully cruel of God, to command us in his Word to prioritize grasping his Word in our heart and not give us the tools we need to do so. I don’t believe this is the case. The level of access to tools that help us hide God’s Word in our heart is truly amazing; we simply have to want it enough. We just have to do it.

THE BENEFITS OF MEMORIZATION

If we will do the work of storing up God’s light, the benefits are manifold. There are three ways worth dwelling on that the brilliance of the Word of God hidden in the heart helps us in our trials, temptations, and troubles of life.

First, God’s Word stored in our hearts equips us in the fight against sin. There is no greater example of the benefits of memorization than the life of David. David, a man known for zig-zagging along the road of righteous living, was a master sinner (just like you and I). He was a master deceiver of his own heart. But in David’s best moments, the Spirit compelled and helped David store up God’s Word as he fought the sin in his life (Ps. 119:11). Temptation often demands a quick, reactionary decision from us. In these moments, will we live by the flesh or by the Spirit? Will we pursue wickedness or righteousness? As we become memorizers of Scripture, it becomes easier to hang in the tension of temptation, to feed the truths of Scripture to our mind and heart, and to help us make an informed, thought-out decision to flee temptation and pursue righteousness (2 Tim. 2:22).

Second, God’s Word stored in our hearts encourages us when prayers go unanswered. Don’t believe the charlatan preachers that tell you God will answer all of your prayers as you want him to. If you’ve lived long enough, you know that some prayers go unanswered, or you get the answer you did not expect. These are hard moments in the Christian life. But God’s Word being in our hearts readily brings to mind His promises to us, which are rich in every respect. Perhaps you are praying against a particular suffering in your life, and it does not seem to be going away. Bringing God’s promise to mind in Romans 8:18, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” may not bring immediate relief, but it does bring eternal comfort. Sometimes, in these dark places, we have to “preach the gospel to ourselves,” as Jerry Bridges often said.

Third, God’s Word stored in our hearts keeps families afloat. I have written about the benefits of memorizing catechisms and creeds in the home, which are certainly helpful. But this should never replace or supersede the memorization of Scripture. I believe that a family’s effort to memorize Scripture together is one of the simplest and most beautiful methods of family discipleship we can participate in. When a family walks through a difficult season together, how encouraging it would be for parents to remind their children of the verses they need to hear (or children remind their parents!) in those moments. A family that speaks God’s Word to one another continually is God’s vision for the home (Deut. 6:6-9).

Finally, God’s Word stored in our hearts brings vigor to our soul. On many occasions, the Psalms link the practice of Bible memorization with spiritual vitality (Ps. 1:2; 40:8; 119:16, 52, 129). We spend a lot of time as Christians talking about the pursuit of glorifying God in our lives, yet that doesn’t often materialize in our day-to-day activities. Making Scripture memorization a routine part of our Christian life can certainly change that. Hiding God’s Word in our heart will only deepen our affection for his Word and create a thirst in us to know him better, indeed, “equipped for every good work” (2 Tim. 3:17).

May Scripture be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.

Justin Huffman 4/1/18 Justin Huffman 4/1/18

Why the Resurrection is No April Fools' Prank

It was only a matter of time before they were caught. You can’t hide 5,000 people believing in Christ. Peter and John, sore from spending the night in jail, were shoved into the presence of the rulers and scribes. The members of the high-priestly family stood. The crowd hushed.

“By what power or by what name did you do this?”

The question hung in the air. Everyone expects them to say, “Jesus”—but would they do so in the face of beatings, and maybe even death?

Peter rises to his feet, surveying the scene. Then it happens again—the promised Spirit fills him for the task at hand. Unsure of what he’s about to say, he opens his mouth in faith and declares,

“This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.”

These words were offensive then—and they’re offensive now.

AN EXCLUSIVE CLAIM

Do you find Peter’s claim of exclusive salvation through Jesus Christ alone offensive? How could he make such a bold claim?

Flavius Josephus (37-97 AD), a defected Jew turned court historian for Emperor Vespasian, is quoted in AD 324 by Eusebius, and speaks of “Jesus, a wise man” who was condemned to the cross and then “appeared to them alive again the third day.” Belief in this Jesus turned the Roman empire upside down in just a few years.

But it wasn’t merely belief in Jesus that propelled the movement; it was a belief in his life, death, and—most importantly—his resurrection from the dead that was the chief apologetic of the early church.

We see this exclusive claim of salvation in Christ over and again in the New Testament. In Acts 4:10, Peter made his claim for the exclusivity of Christ largely based on the resurrection of Christ: “Let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead—by him this man is standing before you well.” Similarly, Paul on Mars Hill contended that “[God] has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead” (Acts 17:31).

The apostles continually referenced the resurrection as their chief argument for the truth of Jesus’ claims.

A SIGNIFICANT CLAIM

Why is the resurrection of Christ so significant? Because Christianity stands or falls on the truth of the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:14-17). The resurrection also reveals that Christ has the power to raise us from the dead (John 11:25-26). Third, it confirms the validity of Christ’s teachings about his own deity.

Because a real man Jesus rose from the dead, he proved his own claim to divinity, sealed the salvation he promised to purchase, and now demands that we trust and submit to him.

Philosopher and broadcaster C.E.M. Joad was once asked who he would most want to interview if he could choose anyone from all of history. He chose Jesus and said that he wanted to ask him the most important question in the world: “Did you, or did you not, rise from the dead?”

The resurrection, more than any religious claim, is investigable and therefore verifiable because it is a historical—not a philosophical—claim. And if it is true, it has universal implications.

The resurrection is the foundation of Christianity: if Jesus were dead, the church of Jesus would be speechless, powerless, and pointless. Yet we find in history that a handful of devastated Apostles frenzied the first century with the message that Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead. They gave their lives for this message—a message, we must not forget, they would know to be true or not.

These men—the ones who heard the hammers crush nine-inch nails through Jesus’ bones, saw the spear pierce his lifeless flesh, and watched the corpse of Christ be removed from the cross—were convinced of the resurrection. They weren’t giving their lives for some dogma, but for the man they knew and loved named Jesus, who they saw, touched, and talked with after his horrible and humiliating death.

A SPECIFIC CLAIM

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is recorded in all four gospels—the same divine, multi-faceted, unified truth is presented from different, harmonious perspectives. A summation of these accounts is found in the ancient Christian creed (probably from about 37 A.D.) in 1 Corinthians 15:3-8.

These gospel writers, as representatives of early Christianity, make clear their assertion: the resurrection of Jesus Christ was a predicted, bodily, historical event.

Jesus’ resurrection was predicted in the Old Testament, centuries before Jesus was born in Bethlehem. In the messianic Psalm 16, David speaks prophetically: “You will not abandon my soul … or let your holy one see corruption” (v. 10). In the New Testament, Jesus explained to his disciples before his death that he would rise from the dead: “From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Matt. 16:21).

Jesus’ predictions were so well known that even his enemies were aware he planned to rise from the dead (see Matt. 27:63). Jesus’ resurrection was prophesied hundreds of years before his birth, and in the days immediately preceding his death.

Jesus’ resurrection was also a bodily resurrection. The New Testament makes it plain that Jesus literally and physically rose from the grave. Thomas was able to put his finger into Jesus’ nail-prints and feel the spear-wound in his side (John 20:27). Luke tells us that, when the resurrected Jesus appeared to his frightened disciples in a locked room, he invited them to handle his body, and then ate in front of them to assure them it was him and not just a spirit (24:36-43).

Christ’s resurrection was also historical. This was no April Fools' Day prank. As we’ve already seen, it is referenced by numerous Christian and non-Christian historical sources. Christianity is not based on a myth or fairytale.

AN INVESTIGABLE CLAIM

The evidence for the resurrection is plentiful. First, there is the empty tomb. If the tomb were full, no one would have believed the disciples’ testimony. The Jews would certainly have produced the body if they could have and silenced the apostles. However, they couldn’t, and subsequently, we see Christianity explode around the known world in (historically speaking) no time at all.

Second, the eyewitness testimony of the apostles (John 20:19-20; 1 Pet. 3:18-21; Matt. 28:16-17; 1 Cor. 15:3-8) verifies Jesus’ resurrection. Three of these four witnesses died for their testimony, and all of them suffered for it.

Third, the Sabbath was changed to Sunday by devout Jews. The only reason such a ground-shift in a centuries-long tradition would occur is if something tremendous and extraordinary—a sign from God—had taken place.

Finally, consider the remarkable growth of the church. The early church—against great opposition, persecution, and rejection—grew by leaps and bounds in the first century. This can only be explained by some incontrovertible evidence, especially as many of their converts (e.g. Saul of Tarsus, better known as the Apostle Paul) came from among their enemies.

Despite all of this, you may still be skeptical of—or indifferent to—the evidence for and implications of the resurrection of Jesus. The gospel writers, as am I, are sympathetic to the doubting or struggling investigator. In fact, the disciples themselves were slow to believe. But once they were convinced, they became irrepressibly inspired.

In the resurrected Christ, even the skeptic may find the confirmation he or she needs in order to turn to Jesus. Truly, there is salvation in no one else; his is the only name under heaven by which we must be saved.

The resurrected Jesus has the power to escape a sealed tomb and enter a locked room. If you are a skeptic, may he enter the locked room of your heart and bring you out of unbelief. And may you find yourself, like the Apostles and millions of others, irrepressibly inspired to tell others about the poor, wandering rabbi from Nazareth who came not to serve, but to be served, and to give his life as a ransom for many—including you.

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.

John MacArthur 3/29/18 John MacArthur 3/29/18

The Astonishing Humiliation of Christ

It is utterly astonishing that the faithful servant of the Lord, the promised deliverer of Israel, would be put on public display in a horrifying, humiliating fashion. That is the very word Isaiah uses: “Many were astonished at you—his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind” (Isa. 52:14). That verse is an abrupt and startling interruption set between two verses that describe the servant’s honor, influence, and exaltation. It is written in a way that purposely magnifies the reader’s astonishment. The sudden shift in topics—from exaltation to humiliation with no warning or transition whatsoever—illustrates the reason “many were astonished.” Putting it simply, as we keep stressing, the death of the promised Messiah was profoundly shocking. It seems no one besides Jesus himself was prepared for his death.

Incidentally, the Hebrew word translated “astonished” is a rich one. The English word is capable of being used in a very positive sense. It’s used, for example, in Mark 7:37, where it describes the people’s fascination and delight after Jesus healed a deaf man, and Scripture says “they were astonished beyond measure, saying, ‘He has done all things well.’” When he taught the multitudes, “they were astonished at his teaching, for his word possessed authority” (Luke 4:32). And when he healed a boy with an unclean spirit, “all were astonished at the majesty of God” (Luke 9:43).

Isaiah 52:14 is speaking about a different kind of astonishment. Isaiah uses a Hebrew term (shamem) that is never used to describe a positive reaction. It’s closer to the English word appalled. But it’s even stronger than that. It speaks of being totally devastated. In fact it’s a term that can describe the total defeat of an army or the utter desolation of a vast region that has fallen into ruins. (Isaiah used this word in 49:19 to describe the land of Judah after the Chaldean armies had demolished almost every trace of human habitation. He spoke of “your desolate [shamem] places and your devastated land.”)

DEVASTATED AT THE DISFIGUREMENT OF CHRIST

The same Hebrew word is used quite frequently in the Old Testament, and it is usually translated “left desolate” or “laid waste.” But when used in a context such as Isaiah 52:14, the word has the connotation of horror. It speaks of a shock so staggering that one loses control of all rational faculties. It could be translated “numbed,” “petrified,” or “paralyzed.”

So this is a very strong word with a broad range of uses but a very clear meaning. Leviticus 26:32 uses the word twice in a kind of play on words that shows its wide semantic range. God himself is speaking, and he says, “I myself will devastate [shamem] the land, so that your enemies who settle in it shall be appalled [shamem] at it.”

Isaiah employs the term to describe the dismay of those who would witness the atrocious injuries inflicted on the suffering servant. They were devastated. But the damage done to him is indescribably worse: “His appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind” (Isa. 52:14). In other words, he would be so disfigured from the sufferings inflicted on him that his face and body would not even appear to be human.

The marring and disfigurement in view here are of course a description of what took place immediately prior to our Lord’s crucifixion, while he was on trial. Jesus’s disfigurement actually began in Gethsemane on the night of his betrayal and arrest. Scripture describes the deep, inward anguish and utter physical exhaustion he experienced as the sinless Son of God contemplated sin bearing and separation from his Father. He was literally sweating blood at the thought of what he would suffer on behalf of sinners. So he would have been weak and haggard-looking even before he was dragged away and put on trial.

THE DESOLATION OF CHRIST

But what left him “so marred, beyond human semblance” were the many tortures inflicted on him by those who put him to death. We know from the Gospel accounts that Jesus was struck on the head, spat upon, mocked, and flogged. He was beaten and abused by the chief priests (Matt. 26:67–68), the temple guard (Mark 14:65), and the Romans (Matt. 27:27–30). Added to that was the terrible scourging he received on Pilate’s orders (John 19:1).

To be flogged with a Roman scourge was a severe, even life-threatening punishment. The victim was lashed mercilessly with a flagellum, a short whip consisting of a wooden handle to which long leather thongs were attached. Each strip of leather had sharp pieces of bone, iron, and zinc held in place by knots spaced an inch or two apart (for a foot or more) along the business end of each thong. The victim would be tied to a post with his hands above his head and his feet suspended off the ground, stretching his body taught. As the biting strands of the flagellum tore into his back, muscles would be lacerated, veins cut, and internal organs exposed. So massive was the trauma inflicted that the scourging itself did sometimes prove fatal.

Of course, when the sentence called for crucifixion, death by the scourge was an undesirable outcome. A skilled lictor (the officer wielding the scourge) knew just how to apply the instrument in a way that would maximize the pain and injury, yet keep the victim alive so that the sentence of crucifixion could be carried out.

Crucifixion was the most brutal form of public execution ever devised. The injuries inflicted in the process were unspeakably savage. Nevertheless, the New Testament narrative makes very little mention of the actual wounds Christ suffered. After the resurrection, Jesus himself spoke of the wounds in his hands and side (John 20:27). But the New Testament doesn’t attempt to describe in detail the severity of Jesus’s injuries. Anyone within the realm of Roman influence would already be familiar with the awful damage done to a person’s body by crucifixion.

PROPHECIES OF THE SUFFERING SERVANT

Therefore, the Old Testament prophecies about Christ’s death tell us more about the humiliating injuries he suffered than the New Testament does. Isaiah 52:14 is the Bible’s most graphic one-verse description of our Lord’s extreme disfigurement—his face so marred that he no longer appeared to be human. Psalm 22 provides even more insight into what Jesus endured on the cross. That psalm begins with the very words Christ uttered on the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The psalm also quotes the words of those who mocked the Savior as he hung there: “He trusts in the Lord; let him deliver him; let him rescue him, for he delights in him!” (v. 8; cf. Matt. 27:42).

So there can be no doubt what Psalm 22 refers to. This is Christ’s own testimony about the cross, given to us prophetically in a psalm that was written at least a thousand years before it was fulfilled. He says,

I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast; my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.

For dogs encompass me; a company of evildoers encircles me; they have pierced my hands and feet— I can count all my bones— they stare and gloat over me. (vv. 14–17)

That describes the crucifixion of Christ with uncanny accuracy, even though it was written centuries before anyone ever thought of executing criminals this way. The piercing of hands and feet refers, of course, to the nails used to fasten Jesus to the cross. Jesus’s bones would be wrenched “out of joint” when (after nailing him to the cross) the executioners would lift the cross upright and let it drop into a post-hole that had been dug deep enough to allow the cross to stand upright. The bone-jarring impact would dislocate multiple joints throughout the body. The bones could be counted because extreme trauma and dehydration left him an almost skeletal figure. The surrounding “company of evildoers” is precisely what the Gospel accounts describe (Mark 15:27–32). The phrase “my heart . . . melted within my breast” is the very image one gets from John’s description of the scene when “one of the soldiers pierced [Jesus’s] side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water” (John 19:34).

THE GRUESOME ORIGINS OF CRUCIFIXION

Again, Psalm 22 is a precise prophetic description of the results of crucifixion, more graphic than we get even from the New Testament eyewitness accounts. Yet the earliest mention of crucifixion in any historical record refers to an event that occurred five hundred years after David. When Darius I conquered Babylon for the second time in 519 BC, he had three thousand of the city’s most prominent men impaled and left to die slowly.[1] The practice was subsequently adopted as a means of public execution because of the way it struck terror into the hearts of those who witnessed it. Various forms of impalement and crucifixion were employed by world empires for the next five hundred years. The Greeks generally scorned the practice and used it only sparingly. It was the Romans who perfected a method that would keep victims suffering in agony for three days or longer.

A nineteenth-century English church leader, Frederic Farrar, wrote this description of the horrors of crucifixion:

[On a cross], in tortures which grew ever more insupportable, ever more maddening as time owed on, the unhappy victims might linger in a living death so cruelly intolerable, that often they were driven to entreat and implore the spectators, or the executioners, for dear pity’s sake, to put an end to anguish too awful for man to bear—conscious to the last, and often, with tears of abject misery, beseeching from their enemies the priceless boon of death.

For indeed a death by crucifixion seems to include all that pain and death can have of horrible and ghastly—dizziness, cramp, thirst, starvation, sleeplessness, traumatic fever, tetanus, publicity of shame, long continuance of torment, horror of anticipation, mortification of untended wounds—all intensified just up to the point at which they can be endured at all, but all stopping just short of the point which would give to the sufferer the relief of unconsciousness. The unnatural position made every movement painful; the lacerated veins and crushed tendons throbbed with incessant anguish; the wounds, inflamed by exposure, gradually gangrened; the arteries—especially of the head and stomach—became swollen and oppressed with surcharged blood; and while each variety of misery went on gradually increasing, there was added to them the intolerable pang of a burning and raging thirst; and all these physical complications caused an internal excitement and anxiety, which made the prospect of death itself—of death, the awful unknown enemy, at whose approach man usually shudders most—bear the aspect of a delicious and exquisite release.[2]

FROM HUMILIATION TO EXALTATION

Isaiah 52:14 must be understood in that light. The brutal treatment Jesus suffered left him so maimed and mangled that he hardly looked human.

The people’s astonishment expressed their contempt. It reflects the profound shock they felt as they saw Jesus’s humiliation. They found him repulsive, far from their conception of what the Messiah King should be like. His degradation was the deepest possible, the most severe, and the most horrible.

But in contrast, his exaltation would be the highest, most profound, and most glorious.

[1] Herodotus, Histories, 3.159.

[2] Frederic William Farrar, The Sweet Story of Jesus: The Life of Christ (New York: Common- wealth, 1891), 619. For an analysis of the medical aspects of crucifixion, see William D. Edwards, Wesley J. Gabel, and Floyd E. Hosmer, “On the Physical Death of Jesus Christ,” Journal of the American Medical Association 255 (March 21, 1986): 1455–63.

Content taken from The Gospel according to God: Rediscovering the Most Remarkable Chapter in the Old Testament by John MacArthur, ©2018. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

John MacArthur is the pastor-teacher of Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, California, where he has served since 1969. He is known around the world for his verse-by-verse expository preaching and his pulpit ministry via his daily radio program, Grace to You. He has also written or edited nearly four hundred books and study guides. MacArthur serves as the president of the Master’s University and Seminary. He and his wife, Patricia, live in Southern California and have four grown children.

Jonathan Dodson 3/27/18 Jonathan Dodson 3/27/18

How the Resurrection Reshapes Success and Regret

The Discovery is a 2017 film about a scientist who makes a find so significant it drastically alters the world. He discovers brain waves continue to emit from the mind after a person is dead. What’s so significant about that? It’s scientific proof of an afterlife. Somehow, someway, the deceased’s brain continues to function after their heart has stopped.

People respond by committing suicide, millions of them, all around the world. Why? With definitive proof of an afterlife, they now have hope for a better life. They don’t have to linger in loneliness or struggle with cancer. All they have to do is pull the trigger, and they can be reunited with their loved ones.

If you had definitive proof of an afterlife, how would you respond? If you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you’d enter another life after you die, what would you do? Would you pull the trigger?

PULLING THE TRIGGER

St. Paul also made a powerful discovery that radically altered history. He encountered a person from the other side, the resurrected Christ, and came to believe that Jesus was not only raised from the dead, but all who hope in him will be raised to eternal life.

But his response was different. Instead of taking his life, he gave his life. Instead of leaping to find what’s on the other side, he transformed his life on this side. You could say he “pulled the trigger” on his old life, and his old life wasn’t too shabby.

He formerly went by Saul and, according to the standards of Judaism, Saul was no slacker. He was circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin (Phil. 3:5). In other words, he wasn’t a newbie in the faith; he was circumcised so early he was raised in the faith. And of all the ethnicities in the world, he was from the chosen people. And out of all of Israel, he was from a special tribe, the tribe that furnished Israel with their very first king. Saul had a great pedigree, but he had even more.

His zeal eclipsed many of his contemporaries, aligning him with some of Israel’s greats (Moses, Elijah, Phineas). An expert in the Law, Saul was esteemed by many. You might say he was the Steve Jobs of Judaism, with a passion for perfection to go with it. Saul arrested and persecuted Christians who perverted his Jewish faith. No one questioned his commitment, until his encounter with the risen Christ.

Then something switched, and his zeal ran toward Christ in a life of hopeful self-denial. He traveled unreliable roads and weathered seas throughout the Mediterranean to share the good news about Jesus, all while living off of his tent business and the support of friends. He wrote letters to struggling churches, and his writings eventually comprised half the New Testament. Along the way, he encountered misunderstanding, ridicule, rejection, prison, flogging, and even shipwreck. Yet he persisted. Why? The resurrection of Jesus had radically changed his notion of success.

REDISCOVERING SUCCESS

If you’ve been around successful people, you know how suddenly small and insignificant it can make you feel. A tiny voice pops into your head and starts interrogating you. What have you accomplished? What do you have to show? Why is that?

Sociologist Ernest Becker says it’s a response to death. Sensing our ephemeral nature, we create what he calls “immortality projects.” We might get a higher degree, establish a family, start a business, engage in philanthropy, or take a selfie, all in an attempt to avert death. We’re haunted by questions like, “What will people think about me after I die? What will they say at my funeral? Will anyone remember me?”

Becker says this undeniable impulse is an attempt to deny death. To construct a way for us to live on, long after we are gone. Paul comes along and puts a gun to his immortality project when he says, “But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ (Phil. 3:7–8). Resurrection fundamentally alters the meaning of success.

Paul looks back at all his accomplishments and describes them as loss—three times he uses the word. What would compel a person of his stature to throw shade on his success? Christ. Each time he mentions loss, he pairs it with a gain: loss for the sake of Christ, loss because of the surpassing worth of Christ, counting achievement as rubbish to gain Christ.

The word surpassing means “above the mark.” He’s saying when I stack my accomplishments next to Jesus, they can’t even see him. The risen Christ is so good he’s off the scale, valuable beyond measure. By comparison, my accomplishments are rubbish.

Instead, success is this: “knowing Christ and the power of his resurrection” (3:10). It’s knowing the one who holds all things together, the God who swallows death, the rider on the white horse who will judge the quick and the dead, the King of a renewed creation. Knowing him is the greatest discovery—ever. And when you’ve got the greatest thing, you can live without a lot of things.

GLORY IN REGRET

Eventually, the scientific crew working on the “the discovery” realizes the post-mortem brain signals are actually connected to episodes of a person’s past, not to an afterlife. When they convert the waves into images, they observe the episodes actually are moments of regret in a person’s life. Unknowingly, the suicides are waking up, not to a circle of loved ones but moments of intense regret. The central character gets stuck in a loop trying to prevent the suicide of a woman he loves.

Faith in Jesus, however, does not lead to an eternal loop of regret. Rather, to borrow a phrase from C. S. Lewis, it allows heaven to work backward. The meaning, love, joy, and goodness of heaven are transported back into the heart through union with Christ, which helps us weather things like loneliness and cancer.

Of course, our experience of heaven working backward is uneven. We are, after all, still on earth so to speak. And once we reach heaven, Lewis notes that even a past agony, and I’ll add even a regret, will turn into a glory. Why? Because that old pain will serve to intensify the present, everlasting comfort of Christ’s nail-scarred hands. Our regret will be faint, but a vivid reminder of the grand discovery—the remarkable mercy of Christ, who rose to forgive and renew all things.

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).

Christy Britton 3/25/18 Christy Britton 3/25/18

Mad for Basketball, Foolish for Christ

March Madness is upon us. My husband spends hours teaching our boys the art of bracketology. My boys' work ethic displayed through perfecting their brackets is inspiring. Why can’t they apply this passion to their geometry homework? As a mother of four sons, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that any plans I had to engage in a non-basketball-related conversation have been rescheduled for April. During this time of year, my house is overrun with cheering, shouting, and surprises. Whoever decided to call the NCAA Tournament season March Madness rightly understood its effect on basketball fans.

With my free time this March, I’m wondering about madness as it relates to faith. Madness can be defined as, “extremely foolish behavior.” Usually, that’s not a good thing, but March turns that expectation on its head. (And sometimes that madness turns the bowl of Doritos on the floor after a buzzer-beater—but that’s another matter.)

We accept the cultural norm of going a little crazy over basketball, or any sport really, but forget to be enthusiastic about the kingdom of God. Imagine the kingdom-impact of millions of zealous people united in Christ to advance the gospel.

The end of March presents an opportunity for sports enthusiasts to go a little mad. Every day presents an opportunity for the church to be known for our madness for the Lord.

MISSIONS MADNESS

According to Joshua Project, of the almost 7.5 billion people in the world, only about ten percent claim to be evangelical Christians. Three billion live among unreached people groups. Ninety percent of the world is lost, and many of them live in countries hostile to the gospel. What does this mean for the church? It means we need more madness for evangelism.

We have been entrusted with the most significant mission of all time. We are commissioned to make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:19). We are gospel-advancers; the gospel doesn’t advance when we retreat. We must go.

We must reject the assumption that someone else will go. Why not us? We need to embrace the unfamiliar for the sake of the gospel. We may need to abandon the comforts of our current zip code so others may know an eternal home in heaven.

We can’t be casual about advancing the gospel. We must passionately combat the darkness with the light. We must get a little crazy about evangelism.

DISCIPLE-MAKING MADNESS

Making disciples starts with making converts, but it doesn’t end there. It continues with the work of discipleship—teaching followers of Christ how to obey his Word (Matt. 28:20).

Particularly in America, we’ve bought into an individualistic theology. I stay out of your business and you stay out of mine. We have compartmentalized our faith to the point that it serves as mere window-dressing to our lives. However, obedience to God’s command to make disciples requires us to be fully invested in one another. We must come alongside each other, helping one another understand what it means to follow Christ.

We depend on one another to point out blind spots, to hold us accountable, to instruct us in the Word, to champion us in our pilgrimage. We must reject the temptation to isolate ourselves from the Christian community. We must seek out spiritual siblings to walk with, discipling one another as we go. We harm each other when we let sin go unchecked in our lives. As believers, we are our brother’s keeper.

Our younger siblings in the faith are counting on us to teach them how to be mad for Christ. In the same way a junior on the team can help a rookie get up to speed with how things work on and off the court, how we lead those younger in the faith than us matters. We need passionate teachers. We need to get a little crazy about discipleship.

WORSHIP MADNESS

We advance the gospel and make disciples because our God is worthy of the worship of the nations. “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord” (Ps. 150:6).

One of my favorite things about my local church is our celebration of the gospel through baptism. New believers share their story of deliverance from the domain of darkness into the kingdom of Christ (Col. 1:13). One of our elders immerses them in water. They rise from the water to thundering applause.

I'm not talking about a polite clap. We shout. We hoot and holler. We whistle. We cry. We celebrate the expansion of the kingdom of Christ and the destruction of our enemy. It gets a little crazy.

Scripture offers a great example of a man whose celebration of the Lord looked a little mad. As the ark of the covenant was brought to Jerusalem, David “danced before the Lord with all his might” (2 Sam. 6:14). When he was confronted by his wife about his embarrassing behavior, his response was, “I will celebrate before the Lord. I will become even more undignified than this” (2 Sam. 6:21-22).

“Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised, and his greatness is unsearchable” (Ps. 145:3). Our God is awesome and worthy of praise. Let’s go a little crazy in our worship.

GOSPEL-CENTERED MADNESS

Imagine a world where every follower of Christ displayed signs of madness for our King. What if we, like Paul, could describe ourselves as, “fools for Christ’s sake” (1 Cor. 4:10)?

If you think a sixteen-seed beating a one-seed team is wild, imagine telling your friends and extended family that you’re moving to Bangladesh to plant a church.

Imagine a small group inviting local refugees into their weekly gatherings to help them transition into our culture and expose them to kingdom-culture. Imagine a people whose free time wasn’t spent on Netflix but in prayer.

Imagine teenagers more concerned with their friends knowing the Lord than knowing the latest app. Imagine college graduates taking their skills to the 10/40 window to live as missionaries. Imagine older saints who understood that retirement doesn’t apply to kingdom work.

Imagine local churches concerned with building God’s kingdom and not their own buildings. Imagine small groups that heard words of confession and petition instead of gossip.

Imagine families that invite new neighbors over to share more than just lasagna—to share the life-giving bread of the gospel. Imagine parents that train their children to be faithful witnesses, not just committed soccer players.

Imagine being the people who forego the feast of our day to fast for the nations to know the gospel.

ARE YOU MAD FOR THE LORD?

The world watches us get excited over many things—sports, politics, food, entertainment. How often do they see us get excited about the kingdom of God?

When was the last time you were foolish for Christ? How long has it been since you engaged in disciple-making? Let’s not fool ourselves. Disciples make disciples. God is glorified when we are foolish for his sake, not when we are just fools.

I’ll probably get caught up in the excitement of upsets and buzzer-beating three-pointers as my guys enjoy watching basketball over the next few days. But my prayer is that my life will display madness for the gospel, zeal for the church, and foolishness for the name of Christ.

Our zeal for the kingdom should be evident to all. We don’t need to hide our excitement; we need to embrace it, flaunt it. March proves we have a capacity for craziness. Let’s redirect that capacity and apply it to advancing the kingdom of God.

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. She and her husband are covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, NC. She loves reading, discipleship, Cajun food, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for several blogs, including her own, www.beneedywell.com.

Josh Shank 3/22/18 Josh Shank 3/22/18

The Last Days of King Jesus: A Guide for Holy Week

Between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, the drama of redemption comes to a climax. Jesus, the supposed King of the Jews, is arrested, unjustly convicted, tortured, mocked, and brutally murdered. As we read through Jesus' last days, we see that he endured these things for us. He was accused for us. He was abandoned for us. He was condemned for us. He was betrayed for us. For centuries, Christians have meditated through Holy Week on the suffering and passion of Jesus, generating a sense of wonder at both the person who suffered and the meaning of his suffering.

Purchase a copy of A Guide for Holy Week: The Last Days of King Jesus, and join us this Holy Week as we reflect on Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. This collection of essays, Scripture meditations, and songs will serve you during Holy Week as you seek to grow as a disciple of Jesus.

A Guide for Holy Week: The Last Days of King Jesus is available in paperback and Kindle editions.

GIVEAWAY

To celebrate Easter, we're giving away five copies of Raised?: Finding Jesus by Doubting the Resurrection by Jonathan K. Dodson and Brad Watson.

About Raised?:

Did Jesus really beat death? That’s what Christians for hundreds of years have believed, that Jesus Christ returned to life after death and burial in a stone tomb. To the modern mind, “resurrection” is utterly implausible, but it was also doubtful to many first-century Greeks, Jews, and even some Christians. With such an incredible assertion at the heart of the Christian faith, it’s no wonder that some people struggle to believe.

The giveaway will take place from March 22, 2018 at 10:00 p.m. to March 25 at 11:59 p.m. EDT.

Raised? Book Giveaway

David McLemore 3/20/18 David McLemore 3/20/18

How Do Christians Get Better?

“I’m not getting any better,” he muttered from across the room. We gave an understanding nod. “I’m trying—I really am—but sin keeps tripping me. I don’t know what else to do.”

Our high theology did nothing to calm his despair.

But our pastor was unburdened by the moment. He looked the man in the eye and said, “The primary aim of the Christian life is not to avoid sin but to follow Jesus.”

I didn’t expect this response. Then again, the gospel is always surprising.

THE DANGER OF SIN

Sin is everywhere. But sin is not only a danger outside, it’s a danger inside as well. Sin is a part of us, living in our hearts since birth. Sin is the disease we can’t cure, the ailment we can’t ease, the problem we can’t solve. Words of despair are the only rational response to sin in all its ugliness. We need someone who can fight for us.

In Numbers 21, the Israelites grew impatient with God as he led them to the Promised Land. They tired of the food and water God provided—the miraculous bread from heaven became a bore; the fish of Egypt tasted better. They spoke against God, blaming him for their plight as he led them into plenty.

God’s punishment was swift and strong: “The Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many people of Israel died” (Num. 21:6). Throughout the Bible, the serpent symbolizes Satan and his schemes. The venom was a painful reminder of their rebellion against God.

What were the Israelites to do?

THE PROBLEM WITH MOST ADVICE

What advice would you give those with venom in their veins? Some would say they only need to go to the doctor. Stand up and walk toward the healer. But how can a paralyzed person walk? Others may say they need to have enough faith to believe God will heal. But how can one who’s unbelief got them here make such a quick turnaround?

Most advice doesn’t account for our complete inability to fix ourselves. Fearing sin only takes us so far; it does nothing to keep us from sin altogether.

Too often, the despairing man or woman across the room receives a head-nod and a handful of suggestions. They’re told to cut the cord, smash their idols, maybe get outside more. Some say they’re too hard on themselves. After all, they can’t be as bad as other people. But none of this helps. In fact, it may grow our fears. How can we be sure we’re doing enough?

The bad news is our effort doesn’t overcome our sin. The good news is our effort doesn’t overcome our sin. Left to ourselves, we would fail. But left in Jesus’ hands, we receive his success.

Sin is overcome by Jesus’ grace applied to our hearts by the Holy Spirit. We don’t need a list of suggestions any more than the dying Israelites needed to stand up and get moving. We need a rescue. We need a savior. Effort may give us a chance, but the gospel gives us far more—the gospel gives us Jesus.

LOOK TO JESUS!

As the snake-bitten Israelites lay dying in the desert, God commanded Moses to construct a bronze serpent and lift it up on a pole. It’s an odd prescription, but God’s ways are not our ways. His response to sin is to present a savior to behold, not a list of rules to follow. It’s the looking and believing that makes the difference.

In 2 Corinthians 5:21, Paul says “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” The Israelites in the desert looked at a statue of the thing killing them. At the cross, we too behold the image of the thing killing us—ourselves. Jesus became human. And on the cross, Jesus became sin. All the ugliness of our sin was there, clinging to the skin of Jesus, seeping into his body, infiltrating his perfect heart. The sin that paralyzed us paralyzed Jesus.

With his last breath, he proclaimed, “It is finished.” Death flooded in. Salvation was at hand. A centurion saw and said, "Truly this man was the Son of God!" (Mark 15:39).

Those who beheld his crucified body went home despairing. How would they ever get better now, after the one they thought would save them had died? Then something remarkable happened. Three days later a stone rolled away, and Jesus walked out of the grave. The serpent’s bite was overcome!

THE GIFT OF SIGHT

Before Jesus died or rose, he had a conversation with a Pharisee seeking God named Nicodemus. He wanted to know the way to life. Jesus told him he must be born again. But that made no sense to Nicodemus. How can one be born when he is old?

There was a way, Jesus said, but only through himself: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14-15).

What snake-bitten sinners need is to look to the One who can save them.

How were the paralyzed Israelites saved in the desert so many years ago? It was not through their effort. It was not because of their good deeds. It was not even their amount of faith. It was beholding the serpent lifted up.

What you get depends on what you set your eyes on. Jesus was raised on the cross so our eyes would raise to him. He was raised from the grave so our eyes would continue to look to our living Savior.

Sin is scary. It should be. But Jesus has conquered it on our behalf. As Al Mohler has said, “Christianity isn’t about how Christian you feel, but how faithful Christ is.” With Jesus, what you see is what you get—a complete Savior for your complete need.

A friend of mine lost part of her eyesight last year due to an optic nerve injury. She has no hope of a complete recovery. But in her blindness, she sees the sharpness of Jesus. She recently told me, “I can’t see very well, and it’s not going to get better in this life. But, you know, I don’t think that when I stand before Jesus he will be blurry.”

If your life is blurred by sin and you’re not sure what to do, look to the One who’s making all things new, including you. The way to get better in the Christian life is by looking to Jesus rather than fearing sin.

David McLemore is the Director of Teaching Ministries at Refuge Church in Franklin, Tennessee. He also works for a large healthcare corporation where he manages an application development department. He is married to Sarah, and they have three sons.

Grayson Pope 3/18/18 Grayson Pope 3/18/18

Say No to Yourself So You Can Say Yes to Jesus

Everyone you know—including your Christian friends—has been seduced by the siren song: “Be true to yourself.” David Kinnaman has said that seventy-six percent of practicing Christians in the U.S. now think the best version of themselves can be found by looking inside.

Studies show that each generation in America is more anxious and depressed than the last. Suicide rates are skyrocketing even though we have more doctors and treatments available than ever. We’re looking inside for meaning, but finding emptiness instead.

As believers, time spent searching our hearts for truth and meaning numbs us to what it means to live like Jesus, who says we can’t follow him unless we deny ourselves.

But what does that mean?

WHAT “DENY YOURSELF” MEANS

The concept of denying yourself comes directly from Jesus, most notably in his call to discipleship in Luke 9:23: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

If you’re like me, that statement leaves you with lots of questions, like, “What should I be denying myself?” or, “Am I denying myself enough?”

Darrell Johnson, a professor of pastoral theology, explains:

“To deny yourself means to deny your self-lordship. It means saying no to the god who is me, to reject the demands of the god who is me, to refuse to obey the claims of the god who is me. [It means we say] a decisive no—‘I do not know the lord Me—I do not bow down to him anymore.’ ”

Understood this way, it’s not hard to see how important self-denial is in following Christ. In fact, self-denial is the essence of discipleship to Jesus. It’s crucial if we’re going to follow the Master who came to lay his life down for others.

Denying self is essential because it allows us to conquer our own will in favor of the Father’s. “[Jesus] wants to lead and he asks me to follow,” Bill Hull writes. “That drives a stake through the heart of my will, my ego, and my desire to control.”

What are we to deny ourselves of that is so painstaking?

WHAT WE ARE TO DENY

“When we follow Jesus, we deny ourselves the right to justice in human relationships. We deny ourselves the right to a good reputation and immediate vindication,” Hull writes in The Complete Book of Discipleship.

After all, that’s what Jesus did. Though he was God in the flesh, he emptied himself of his rights as God (see Phil. 2:1-11) and gave himself over to the judgment and opinions of others without guarding his reputation.

The heart of self-denial is giving up your need to control every thought or opinion others have of you. Which means you have to die to your metrics of success, along with the world’s—and, yes, even the church’s. You must not allow success to be defined by anything other than obedience to Christ’s commands.

Self-denial is about more than giving up control of your idea of success. Ultimately, it involves giving up control of your future. This is where most start to chafe under the yoke of Christ, like Hull, who says, “My natural bent is to follow my vision, my dreams, my heart—and then periodically check behind me to make sure Jesus is blessing what I’ve chosen.”

Often, we say we’re following Jesus, but what we really want is Jesus following us. If we are to follow Jesus, we must deny—say no to—ourselves. That has always been difficult, but the realities of the modern world make it as complicated as ever.

SELF-DENIAL IN AN AGE OF SELF-FULFILLMENT

Christians in America and other Western countries live in the tension between pursuing a life of self-fulfillment or self-denial. I sense this tension daily. I know Jesus calls me to deny myself, take up my cross and follow him. But sometimes, deep down, I don’t believe he would really ask me to do that.

This is one of the main problems with self-fulfillment. It seeks the happiness of the self over and above all other facets of life so that I can’t imagine someone asking me to do anything contrary to that path.

I think: If realizing my true self in my heart is the path to happiness, then surely Jesus wouldn’t ask me to do something that goes against my heart, right? But Jesus says anyone who wants to follow him must deny himself. . . .

But just when I get close to the truth, the world lures me away. I think about reading the Bible, but I want to keep scrolling and swiping on my iPhone. I think about serving the poor, but it’s much easier to text a donation. I wonder who I should share the gospel with, but I’m more comfortable watching Netflix.

I hope your life is different, but odds are you’re a lot like me. That’s because we’re programmed to seek fulfillment inside ourselves. Thankfully, we can be reprogrammed.

WHAT SELF-DENIAL LOOKS LIKE

Instead of hoping in our plans and pressing on to achieve our goals, followers of Christ are to put God first. We are to give up our right, our need, to be the ones setting the agenda, and pass that mantle to Christ instead.

Practically, this means we are to pray first and act later. Instead of asking the Father to bless what we've chosen, we are to seek his wisdom and will before strategizing. “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain” (Ps. 127:1). Most of us plan first, pray later. Self-denial reverses the order.

Once we have the order correct, we can think about why we are to deny ourselves. Here we come to Christ’s example once more. When pressed by two of his disciples who wanted seats of honor in his kingdom, Jesus replied, “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).

In this incredible statement, we see that the purpose of denying ourselves is for the good of others. Jesus was going to lay down his life for the salvation of others, and he calls his followers to do the same. In his short book Discipling, Mark Dever writes:

“Being a disciple of Jesus means orienting our lives toward others, just as Jesus did. It means laboring for the sake of others. … We set our sights on serving others for Christ’s sake, just as Christ came into the world not to be served, but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.”

DIE TO YOURSELF SO YOU CAN LIVE IN CHRIST

Dying to yourself effectively means saying no to your dreams, desires, and ambitions. That sounds depressing, doesn’t it? Only if you don’t consider how saying no to yourself allows you to say yes to Christ.

As you die to yourself, you make more and more room for Jesus to take up residence in your heart and mind. You remove your selfish ways and replace them with his selfless ones. That’s a difficult, sometimes painful, process. But unless you die, Jesus won’t live in you.

Jesus promises to give his followers abundant and eternal life (see John 10:10), but he makes it clear that following him is costly and difficult.

That’s not the narrative many of us are telling ourselves, though. As Hull writes, “We all admire self-denial in others, but we seem to detest it in ourselves.”

We want the abundance Jesus offers without accepting the cost and making the sacrifices. We want godliness without having to work for it. We want fulfillment without learning to find it in Christ.

We want the resurrection without the crucifixion.

But that’s not how it works.

NO RESURRECTION WITHOUT THE CRUCIFIXION

Darrell Johnson writes that there can be no resurrection without the crucifixion—for Jesus or his disciples. He goes on to say:

“Jesus calls his followers to think of ourselves as already dead, to bury our earthly hopes and dreams, to bury the plans and agendas we made for ourselves. He will either resurrect our dreams or replace them with dreams and plans of his own. … This is a hard but liberating saying. … Freedom comes when we lay down the ill-gotten false crown, when we say no, when we live as though the gods who are us have already died.”

Looking inside ourselves will never satisfy our consuming desire for fulfillment that can only be found in Christ. We must repent of our quest for self-fulfillment and press on to win the prize that can only be won through self-denial.

We can follow our hearts or we can follow Jesus, but we can’t do both.

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

David Powlison 3/15/18 David Powlison 3/15/18

Why Are You Suffering? Here's God's Answer

Job, his wife, and his three friends agreed on two things. Our lives are “few of days and full of trouble” (Job 14:1), and God’s hand is intimately mixed up in our troubles. But strife and perplexity set in among them when they tried to explain exactly how God and troubles connect. They argued about the cause of Job’s troubles; no one understood the backstory of cosmic drama. They argued about what God was up to; no one understood that God had purposes for good beyond human comprehension and he was not punishing Job. They argued about the validity of Job’s professed faith and faithfulness; no one understood that Job was both the genuine article and a work in progress. And they argued about who needed to do what in response to affliction; no one understood that the Lord would show up, that he would be asking the questions, that his purposes would be fulfilled. The Lord himself described Job as “a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil” (Job 1:8). But who could have predicted the tumultuous journey that proved that fact?

WHERE IS GOD IN YOUR SUFFERING?

Thousands of years later, we humankind are still short-lived and still much afflicted. And our troubles still perplex us. Why is this happening to me? Where is God? What is he doing? What does faith look like? How does the Lord show up? Why is the journey so tumultuous?

And what difference does it make that in between Job’s afflictions back then and your afflictions right now, the Word became flesh and dwelt among us? Job said:

I know that my Redeemer lives, 

and at the last he will stand upon the earth.

And after my skin has been thus destroyed,

yet in my flesh I shall see God,

whom I shall see for myself, 

and my eyes shall behold, and not another.

My heart faints within me! (Job 19:25–27)

Job’s Redeemer came to him at last. The Lord answered out of the whirlwind, and Job said, “Now my eye sees you” (Job 42:5). But we see even more clearly. From where we stand, we see Jesus Christ. We see more of who the Redeemer is. We see more of how he did it. We say more than Job could say: “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6). We see. But our lives are still “few of days and full of trouble.”

3 TRUTHS ABOUT SUFFERING

When you face trouble, loss, disability, and pain, how does the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ meet you and comfort you? How does grace and goodness find you, touch you, work with you, and walk with you through deep waters? You probably already know something of the “right answer.” Consider three sweeping truths.

1. God doesn't promise to keep us from suffering

First, it is obvious from both Scripture and experience that God never establishes a no-fly zone keeping all problems away. He never promises that your life will be safe, easy, peaceful, healthy, and prosperous. On the contrary, you and I are certain to experience danger, hardship, turmoil, ill health, and loss. And some of God’s beloved children live lives particularly fraught with physical pain, poverty, isolation, betrayal, and loss. For all of us, death is the inevitable and impending final affliction. We humankind are mariposa lilies in Death Valley after rain. We flourish for a moment. Then the wind passes over us, and we are gone, and no trace remains. That’s the description of God’s blessed and beloved children according to Psalm 103:15–16. And, of course, people who are estranged from God also live brief and troubled lives. We cannot read God’s favor or disfavor by assessing how troubled a person’s life is.

2. God doesn't promise earthly goods

Second, it is obvious from Scripture and experience that we also sample joys and good gifts from God’s hand. The mariposa lily is beautiful in its season. Most people taste something of what is good—familial care perhaps, and daily bread, occasional feasting, a measure of good health, friends and companions, moments of beauty, opportunity to become good at something, committed love, children’s laughter, a job well done, the innocent pleasure of resting after working, and perhaps a restful sleep. There are no guarantees of any particular earthly good, but all good gifts may be gratefully enjoyed.

Some people seem unusually blessed with temporal joys. Job enjoyed unusually good gifts at both the beginning and the end of his life—Satan had accused the Lord of giving Job a cushy life as a bribe for faith. And arrogant people, at odds with God and self-reliant, may also enjoy an easy life of good health, growing wealth, and the admiration of others. That’s how Psalm 73:3–12 describes people who flourish though they deem the Lord irrelevant. We cannot read God’s favor or disfavor by assessing how easy and trouble-free a person’s life is.

3. God works through suffering

Third, it’s obvious from Scripture—and it can become deeply rooted in experience—that God speaks and acts through affliction. As C. S. Lewis says, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”[1] Suffering reveals the genuineness of faith in Christ. And suffering produces genuine faith. For example, when you struggle under affliction, the Psalms become real. True faith deepens, brightens, and grows wise. You grow up in knowing God. When you are the genuine article, you are also and always a work in progress.

Suffering is both the acid test and the catalyst. It reveals and forms faith. It also exposes and destroys counterfeit faith. Afflictions expose illusory hopes invested in imaginary gods. Such disillusionment is a good thing, a severe mercy. The destruction of what is false invites repentance and faith in God as he truly is. Suffering brings a foretaste of the loss of every good thing for those who profess no faith in the one Savior of the world, God’s inexpressible gift, the Lifegiver. Affliction presses on unbelief. It presses unbelief toward bitterness, or despair, or addiction, or ever more desperate illusions, or ever more deadly self-satisfaction—or to a reconsideration of what lasts. To lose what you are living for, when those treasures are vanities, invites comprehensive repentance. We can read God’s favor or disfavor by noticing how a person responds to affliction.

YOU CAN FIND HOPE IN SUFFERING

God’s hand is intimately mixed up in our troubles. Each day will bring you “its own trouble” (Matt. 6:34). Some difficulties are light and momentary—in your face today and forgotten tomorrow. Other hardships last for a season. Some troubles recur and abate cyclically. Other afflictions become chronic. Some woes steadily worsen, progressively bringing pain and disability into your life. And other sufferings arrive with inescapable finality— the death of a dream, the death of a loved one, your own dying and death. But whatever you must face changes in light of the resurrection of Jesus Christ and the promise that you, too, will live. Faith can grow up. You can learn to say with all your heart, in company with a great cloud of witnesses: “We do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:16–17). We can learn to say it and mean it, because it is true.

If you are someone who has taken the book of Psalms to heart, if you’ve pondered the second half of Romans 8, if you’ve worked your way through Job, if you’ve let 1 Peter sink in, then you’ve already got the gist of how God’s grace works in hardships. But there are always new challenges. The wisdom to suffer well is like manna—you must receive nourishment every day. You can’t store it up, though you do become more familiar with how to go out and find what you need for today.

GOD'S ANSWER IN YOUR SUFFERING

How will God actually engage your sufferings with his grace? You may know the right answer in theory. You may have known it firsthand in some difficult situations. And yet you’ll find that you don’t know God well enough or in the exact ways you need to for the next thing that comes your way.

We take God’s hard answer and make it sound like a pat answer. He sets about a long slow answering, but we’re after a quick fix. His answer insists on being lived out over time and into the particulars. We act as if just saying the right words makes it so. God’s answer involves changing you into a different kind of person. But we act as if some truth, principle, strategy, or perspective might simply be incorporated into who we already are. God personalizes his answer on hearts with an uncanny flexibility. But we turn it into a formula: “If you just believe x. If you just do y. If you just remember z.” No important truth ever contains the word “just” in the punch line.

We can make the right answer sound old hat, but I guarantee this: God will surprise you. He will make you stop. You will struggle. He will bring you up short. You will hurt. He will take his time. You will grow in faith and in love. He will deeply delight you. You will find the process harder than you ever imagined—and better. Goodness and mercy will follow you all the days of your life. At the end of the long road you will come home at last. No matter how many times you’ve heard it, no matter how long you’ve known it, no matter how well you can say it, God’s answer will come to mean something better than you could ever imagine.

He answers with himself.

[1] C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain (1940; repr., San Francisco: Harper-SanFrancisco, 2001), 91.

David Powlison (MDiv, Westminster Theological Seminary) is a teacher, a counselor, and the executive director of the Christian Counseling & Educational Foundation. He is also the senior editor of the Journal of Biblical Counseling and the author of Seeing with New Eyes, Good & Angry, and Speaking Truth in Love.

Christy Britton 3/13/18 Christy Britton 3/13/18

To God Be the Glory?

There’s a beast within me. It’s hungry, demanding, and jealous. The beast desires applause. It seeks glory, acclaim.

The beast is me.

THE BEAST WITHIN

I want everyone to know how hard I work to organize service projects. I want people to look at my children and think about what a great mother I am. I get angry when someone steals the spotlight.

The beast is insatiable.

And this beast is inside all of us. We’re all glory seekers.

We were made to chase after God’s glory (Isa. 43:7), but sin distorts this God-given desire into a pursuit of our own glory. Our chase changes course. We’re like the dog who runs around in circles chasing his own tail. Our eyes are fixed on ourselves and the vanity of our chase eludes us.

THE GLORY OF GOD ECLIPSES THE BEAST

My heavenly Father frees me from the clutches of the beast. He frees me from fixing my eyes on me, and from the desire for everyone else’s eyes. More than that, he invites me to lock eyes with him—and when I do, I behold his glory.

Beholding his glory changes me (2 Cor. 3:18). His glory is full of grace (John 1:14), and it transforms what I want and what I value.

His glory is full of truth. And the truth is, his glory makes mine much less appealing.

When I behold the beauty of God’s glory, I’m no longer invested in my own greatness; I want the world to see the greatness of my God.

BOASTING IN STRENGTH AND WEAKNESS

In his book Radical, David Platt writes, “God actually delights in exalting our inability. He intentionally puts his people in situations where they come face to face with their need for him.” When we exalt our insufficiency, we boast in the sufficiency of Christ.

So I’m free to be bold in my weakness, knowing that when I’m weak, I’m strong (2 Cor. 12:10). I can do nothing apart from Christ (John 15:5). My insufficiency doesn’t discourage me, it empowers me because his power is perfected in my weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).

My weakness can be a spotlight for who’s extraordinary—almighty God. My shortcomings as a parent showcase God’s glorious grace in my children. My openness about gluttony highlights God’s power to break every chain of bondage when I’m no longer a slave to my appetite.

Seekers of his glory are not motivated by selfish ambition, but holy ambition. We want to make Christ known. In the book, Alive in Him, Gloria Furman says we are, “dying to ourselves in every way for the sake of making Christ’s name famous in all the cosmos.” We don’t want people to look at our social media posts to notice our greatness. No, we want to use our social networks to, “proclaim the excellencies of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9).

Our boast is in the Lord, not in ourselves (1 Cor. 1:31). We want to show the world our neediness for God because our neediness brings him glory. We are, as Martin Luther said on his deathbed, “mere beggars showing other beggars where to find bread.”

CELEBRATING OTHERS’ SUCCESS

The beast in me doesn’t like sharing the spotlight with anyone. It wants me to outshine everyone else. It’s threatened by the successes of others. But when I seek God’s glory, I celebrate all the ways and means he chooses to reveal it—even if he does it through someone else.

When I’m more concerned with God’s glory than my own, I rejoice when others succeed. They’re not a threat to me and my glory; they are evidence of God’s glory shining through them. We are one body in Christ (Rom. 12:5). We are co-laborers in gospel work. We rejoice with those who rejoice (Rom.12:15). Your successes are my successes, and vice versa.

When I struggle to get a single article published and my Twitter-friend gets a book deal, I thank God. May he bless her with words to encourage his people. When I struggle financially and my friend’s husband gets a promotion, I praise God. May they bless others as they have been blessed. I can rejoice in God’s grace in other moms whose children act angelic in public while mine are perfecting their defiance.

I can celebrate these evidences of his grace in others’ lives because I love God’s glory. I desire to see his grace cover the earth, including Twitter and my friends’ successes. He uses us in different ways to glorify himself. We should champion—not compete against—one another. God gives us the grace to cheer one another on in the faith: “Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together” (Ps. 34:3).

LIVING TRANSFORMED

The world tempts us to build a platform; God invites us to build his kingdom. When we’re building his kingdom, ours loses its attractiveness. His glory becomes my pursuit.

When I’m more concerned about God’s glory than my own, I live out of the transformational grace given to those who behold his glory (2 Cor. 3:18). His desires become what I want. His thoughts become my thoughts. My words start to sound like his—edifying and life-giving. I don’t live for temporal, but eternal, pleasures.

God alone has the power to transform me from a seeker of self-glory to a seeker of his glory. The world tells me to take care of me and mine, but God is glorified when we look to the interests of others (Phil.2:4). The world says we should keep to our own kind, but we bring our Father glory when we embrace people from every tribe, tongue, and nation that will make up our eternal family (Rev. 7:9).

STOP LOOKING AT ME

A.W. Tozer said, “The glory of God always comes at the sacrifice of self.” If everyone is looking at me, they’re not looking at Christ. When I seek my glory, I’m working in opposition to the gospel. When I care more about God’s glory than my own, it’s my joy to sacrifice my desires for his greatness.

Father, give me the desire and the means to make your name famous, and not my own. Be big in my smallness; strong in my weakness. Unite your people to display your glory together to the ends of the earth.

Slay the glory-seeking beast within each of us—and start with me.

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. She and her husband are covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, NC. She loves reading, discipleship, Cajun food, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for several blogs, including her own, www.beneedywell.com.