What if Pastors Stopped Sharing the Gospel?

What if, at a major continental conference, we asked every pastor in North America not to lead another person to Christ for the remainder of their ministry? If someone wanted to enter the Christian faith at their church, the pastor would redirect them to his people. It would no longer be the pastor’s responsibility to reach or attract unbelievers. If anyone was going to come to Christ, it would require direct participation from the individuals within the church body.

This is obviously a hypothetical situation for the purpose of illustration. But consider it for just a moment: if pastors stopped sharing the gospel and bringing people to Christ, what would happen to the church? With pastors pulling back, would church growth come to a screeching halt?

A CHURCH IN DECLINE

Plateaued and declining churches outnumber growing ones four to five in North America,[1] and denominations are reporting that high percentages of their churches are reaching few. America’s largest denomination, the Southern Baptist Convention, reported in 2016 that 47 percent of their churches baptized two or less.[2]

You might think that reducing the pastor’s mission scope could have nose-dive level repercussions. Pastors are, after all, the main communicators of the gospel in our churches today. They also tend to be the most educated and socially adept people in God’s assembly (not that they don’t have some relational quirks and awkward tendencies). For those two factors alone, the mission of the church could substantially suffer if pastors were to stop sharing the gospel. But could it be that we'd see something surprising occur within the body of Christ?

What if across the wide spectrum of the Church, a mood of solemnity took place? A spontaneous-heart-and-knee-drop holy moment, where the church body in every region rises from its seats, comes to God’s altar, and with contrite and repentant hearts cries out, “Lord, we sense your Spirit in this. You are calling us to fulfill the very thing written in your Word. Lord Jesus, as your body, with our pastors now stepping down, we are ready to step up—to bear responsibility for bringing the gospel to the whole world! And we are willing to learn from our pastors all that is necessary to do that task more effectively.”

Seeing this heartfelt outpouring, pastors, too, all over the land might drop to their knees, exclaiming: “Lord, you have entrusted me with your people. I have been given the highest call to be their shepherd, but also the leader of your army. So Lord, make me a powerful equipper. Use me to unleash through them your symphonic gospel. May we see revival like the church has not seen since its first-century inception!”

Can you imagine this? I can.

BACK TO REALITY

Before you get too overwhelmed, there will be no such conference. No pastor has to stop living on mission; they can continue to be God’s messenger and minister of the gospel, uniquely called and qualified.

What I hope you get from this hypothetical scene of gospel-less pastors is a sense of how “pastor-centric” our congregations are. I believe the average church is far too dependent upon their leaders. From consultations with various church leaders, it seems to me that the lack of belief in church member’s mission abilities, coupled with inadequate training, is hindering the church’s potential impact at such a scale that it is unprecedented. Right now, North America has more unsaved people outside the immediate “joining circle” of the church (won’t attend with a simple invitation) than ever before. And our culture is continuing its plunge into pluralism.

A recent LifeWay study revealed that only 6 percent of churches are growing at the population rate of their communities.[3] Another survey from Christ Together found that 73 percent of respondents (all of whom were believers) were ineffectual with any non-believer.[4] The way churches are set up, with the pastor being the prime conduit of the gospel and a high ratio of church members being unengaged and ill-equipped for their gospel disseminating role, is not going to cut it any longer. Major cultural sectors will remain unreached unless God’s people rise into a new level of missional prowess.

I submit we have entered a new mission-necessitating era for the church’s growth. Yet even with the plateaued or declining numbers in so many congregations, many pastors are trying to do mostly the same “come and see” attractional devices to draw outsiders to check out their churches, when what is happening culturally has rendered this singular strategy insufficient.

MOBILIZING MEMBERS FOR MISSION

I played four years of college football and will always be a huge NFL fan. Though I am not part of the New England Patriot’s bandwagon, one day I listened to an interview with Patriot players who mentioned what their hoodied master, legendary coach Bill Belichick, required of them: “Do your job! Don’t worry about what anyone else is doing. We need you to do your job, each one of you, and on every single play. Fulfill your responsibility, and we’ll compete at the highest level.”

What if the church adopted a similar playbook? What if pastors truly embraced their role as given in Ephesians 4:11–17? What if pastors heard the call to “Do your job! Equip the saints. Stop stepping on their mission responsibility. Do what Christ is calling you to do and expect them to do their roles.”

It was Paul, under the Spirit’s inspiration, who was first to see this divine architecture in its most nascent form. God’s infinite wisdom conveyed the eternal plan for how his church would redeem the whole world. In Ephesians 4, Paul discloses a simple top-down-and-out structure designed to create the highest level of mobilization. It is so simple it’s easy to miss: God has given gifts to equip the members for his ever-expanding work.[5]

GETTING EPHESIANS 4 RIGHT

Despite specific instructions from this Ephesians 4 passage, teaching pastors still do the bulk of the mission enterprise. Too often, a church is measured by its preaching prowess, not the messaging exploits of her people. Too often the pulpit leads others to Jesus, not the people. Too often it is church staff, not the men and women in the pews, who are baptizing. Why do we settle for roles that diverge from Scripture, as well as the equipping example of Christ, who raised twelve everyman types to lead his movement?

I long to see pastors switch their metrics and begin measuring themselves by their equipping effectiveness and their people’s mission fruit. To get there, we would have to stop reinforcing a dependency upon leadership and a sequestering of viable mission skills, and instead devote ourselves to creating solid structures for achieving the member’s empowerment.

I am not proposing a restriction on pastoral proclamation, of course. But I am proposing a focused effort to train and mobilize the men and women in our churches to be the primary agents of gospel proclamation. If we make this shift, we will find ourselves closer to God’s ecclesial design, we will unleash the potential of our movement, and we will see a resurgence of the people’s “acts” that made Christ’s name famous in the first place.

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Gary Comer is the author of six books, including the newly released, ReMission: Rethinking How Church Leaders Create Movement. He founded Soul Whisperer Ministries, an organization dedicated to helping churches develop missionally. Gary is a motivational speaker, faith-sharing skills trainer, community group campaign catalyst, discipleship path designer, and development consultant. His ministry is also international, involved in training leaders in the United Kingdom, Kenya, Egypt, and India. Connect with Gary at soulwhispererministry.com, or on Twitter/Instagram at @gcomerministry.

[1] Jared C. Wilson, The Prodigal Church: A Gentle Manifesto against the Status Quo (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2015), 35.

[2] Kevin Ezell, Southern Baptist Life, 2016.

[3] Rebecca Barnes and Linda Lowery, “7 Startling Facts: An Up Close Look at Church Attendance in America,” Church Leaders, April 10, 2018. Available at: https://churchleaders.com/pastors/pastor-articles/139575-7-startling-facts-an-up-close-look-at-church-attendance-in-america.html/2

[4] Ryan Kozey, “Your Church on Mission: What’s It Going to Take?” (presentation at Southwest Church Planting Forum, October 29, 2014).

[5] Read JR Woodward’s Creating a Missional Culture for insight into the five top equipping gifts.

Big Lessons from a Wee Little Man

On my best days, I stand 5’6”. My wife, in a display of self-sacrifice typical of her, wore flats in our wedding so as not to—quite literally—show me up. The bond I feel to Zacchaeus, then, should come as little surprise. We have relegated his story from Luke 19 to the cute side of Christianity. If you grew up in an evangelical church, odds are you remember this tune:

“Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he. He climbed up in a sycamore tree, for the Lord he wanted to see.”

A song like that never quite dislodges itself from your head, yet adult believers rarely sing it back or spend time considering Zacchaeus. Revisiting his brief moment within the story of Jesus reveals significant lessons and serious stakes. Zacchaeus isn’t just for children’s church or puppet shows—his interaction with Jesus raises implications we might rather avoid.

A RICH MAN BROUGHT LOW

Let’s quickly re-acquaint ourselves with Zacchaeus, this time with less music.

The first details Luke shares about Zacchaeus are his vocation and class. He clocked in and out as a tax collector, a vocation despised all along history’s continuum from Jesus’ day up through our own. It’s safe to assume Zacchaeus tried to dodge the question, “So, what do you do?” in social situations, though the story suggests he wasn’t invited to many parties.

Luke spells out Zacchaeus’ status as a matter of fact: “He was rich.” But his wealth didn’t come with a place of honor. As Jesus, the provocative religious teacher, walks through Jericho, Zacchaeus wants to see the man for himself, like everyone else in town. But he found himself crowded out and unable to see the mysterious rabbi.

“He was trying to see who Jesus was, but he was not able because of the crowd, since he was a short man. So running ahead, he climbed up a sycamore tree to see Jesus, since he was about to pass that way” (Luke 19:3-4).

On his way by, Jesus looks up and calls out, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down because today it is necessary for me to stay at your house” (Luke 19:5). Jesus invites himself over to Zacchaeus’ house, pleasing the diminutive tax collector and flustering the crowd, who know not only what Zacchaeus does for a living, but what he’s like.

Jesus’ welcome and acceptance are not lost on Zacchaeus. Immediately, he pledges to give half of what he owns to relieve the poor and, hinting at ongoing sin, says he’ll repay “four times as much” as he has extorted from others (Luke 19:8).

Jesus, who always knew what he was doing, acknowledges he was after Zacchaeus’ heart from the jump and declares that salvation has come to Zacchaeus’ home. Then Jesus restates his mission and locates Zacchaeus within it: “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost.”

SEEING JESUS

Zacchaeus’ story isn’t about climbing trees. It’s about a change of heart, a reorientation of desire that expresses itself through action. If like Zacchaeus, we want to experience salvation, then his response to Jesus warrants deeper reflection.

Zacchaeus’ response to Christ was a desire to change the way he lived. Zacchaeus had little public credibility left, but he was willing to debase himself further to see who Jesus was. Paul puts the same desire in his own words: “More than that, I also consider everything to be a loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Phil. 3:8).

We sing words like these on Sunday mornings. In our public prayers, small groups, and coffee shop conversations, we claim we want to see and know God. But how many of us actually look for Jesus everywhere we go? How often do we consider knowing him—intimately, completely—as important as knowing about him?

Zacchaeus should be commended. Once he had even an inkling of who Jesus was, he put aside everything to see him more clearly. Will we follow his lead?

REJOICE AT AMAZING GRACE

Jesus’ outstretched hand of friendship to tax-collecting Zacchaeus laid the crowd’s heart bare. Rather than be amazed that Jesus wanted to spend time with this sinful man, they recoiled.

And so it is with us. We believe God can save the well-mannered pillar of our community. They’re already so good and so decent, we reason. We even recognize his intent with those on the other end of the spectrum, the poor or homeless person with whom we have no history.

We express less enthusiasm when Jesus begins to draw someone we can’t stand, someone who has hurt us, or someone we’ve watched lay waste to their relationships.

The childhood bully, the cheating spouse, the cheerleader for another political tribe. Can we find it within ourselves to recognize grace at work within them? Or will we grumble like the crowd, shaking our heads and wagging our fingers at Jesus?

A WHOLE GOSPEL

Even if you’re able to make peace with the story so far, Zacchaeus has to go and do something that completely meddles with our comfortable ideas of call-and-response, conversion, and repentance.

The evidence that he already has seen something in Jesus, that the Spirit truly is loosed within his heart, comes as he promises to restore what he has stolen and make others whole (v. 8).

We plunder others all the time, even when we don’t recognize it. We pinch a little dignity, steal a piece of their reputation in the eyes of others. What if the gospel, as it works within us, directed us to make others whole?

Our movement toward healing and restoration is not a means of earning favor with God. We can only make others whole because God has made us whole. He has restored all that sin, death and the locust has taken—and now, out of his storehouse supply (Phil. 4:19), we can play our small part, imitating him by doing the same.

BIG LESSONS FROM A LITTLE MAN

How different would our lives and relationships look if we adopted Zacchaeus’ mindset? We would repay any honor we’ve stolen, with interest (Rom. 12:10). Forgiveness withheld would be replaced with reconciliation. What we extract through shame and guilt would find its recompense in acceptance and affirmation.

Following in the footsteps of Zacchaeus, bending our gospel encounter into real life, we would pursue a whole and unified church by making others whole.

Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and he only gets ten verses in Scripture. But the lessons therein loom large. Disciples who truly want to see Jesus would do well to hear ourselves in his song and sing it over and over.

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

A Roadmap for Faith Among the Faithless

Most of us know Esther’s story from Sunday school lessons, storybooks, and cartoons. But there’s a real problem with most of these versions. They’re mostly wrong. Not all of them. Just most of them. They make Esther sound like Daniel. They present her as if she is a pillar of virtue, a gorgeous, dignified Jewish girl who wins the heart of the king through the beauty, humility, and character imparted to her by her noble cousin Mordecai. When a crisis comes, she is more than ready to sacrifice herself for the Jewish people, confident that doing God’s will is more important than saving her own skin.

At the very least, her story is more complicated than that. And much darker. It’s less VeggieTales and more Game of Thrones, with a lot more sex, murder, and impaling than the usual version of the story would imply. (There’s actually quite a bit of impaling.) Mordecai and Esther’s motivations are sometimes murky and sometimes blatantly self-serving. Unquestionably, Esther and her cousin are profoundly compromised people when we meet them, having abandoned most of their Jewish identity for a Persian one.

THE SCANDAL OF ESTHER

Martin Luther hated the book of Esther, wanting it struck from the canon. He said, “I am so great an enemy to the second book of the Maccabees, and to Esther, that I wish they had not come to us at all, for they have too many heathen unnaturalities. The Jews much more esteemed the book of Esther than any of the prophets; though they were forbidden to read it before they had attained the age of thirty, by reason of the mystic matters it contains.”

For Luther, it was too Jewish, too heathen, and too scandalous. Yet these characteristics are what make the book so interesting.

Aside from Luther’s anti-Semitism (though one should be extremely wary of glibly setting that aside), the “too Jewish” charge is an interesting one. An annual feast called Purim commemorates the story of Esther, and in some communities, it’s the most celebrated feast and biggest party of the year. Why is that?

One answer is because for much of the history of the Jewish people, from Esther’s day to our own, Jews lived without a land of their own. They were in exile, looking for hope, for the promise that Yahweh hadn’t abandoned them. That’s the whole point of the story of Esther. Even in the darkest moments, when God seems absent, we can trust that he hasn’t abandoned us.

Novelist Walker Percy once wrote, “Why does no one find it remarkable that in most world cities today there are Jews but not one single Hittite, even though the Hittites had a great lourishing civilization while the Jews nearby were a weak and obscure people?”3 There’s something miraculous in the fact that God has sustained the Jews through multiple attempts to wipe them off the face of the earth, and the story of Esther attests to that miracle.

THE REAL MESSAGE OF ESTHER

For Christians, the story is a reminder that God doesn’t abandon his people, no matter how dark their circumstances, how compromised their hearts are, or how hidden he may seem.

Hiddenness is a theme that shapes the whole book of Esther. Mordecai and Esther have hidden identities. Haman—the story’s villain—has hidden motives. More important, God himself is hidden throughout the book. His name isn’t mentioned once, and his absence is a key feature of the story. God’s hiddenness is what makes Esther such an important book for our day too, a day when belief in God feels always resisted, always contested, when everything seems to have a natural explanation, and when our own experience often makes us feel as though God is, indeed, absent.

Luther’s charges—that it’s too heathen, too scandalous—are actually part of what makes the book brilliant. Other biblical characters, like Daniel, Joseph, and the apostles in the book of Acts, all exhibit tremendous faith in the midst of a hostile environment, and God shows up in dramatic, miraculous ways. But Esther and Mordecai are far frailer, more compromised, more human. They’re conflicted, out to save their skins and advance their careers or their social status. There is almost no religion in the book, only a call to fast that we can assume is also a call to prayer. So this is not a story about virtue and character, but about someone who has become acclimated to a godless world and has grown quite comfortable with it. It’s about compromise and crisis, and God’s way of preserving and renewing faith in the midst of it all.

DARE TO BE AN ESTHER?

When I was a kid in Sunday school, we used to sing a song called “Dare to Be a Daniel.” If you understand what’s happening in Esther’s story, you’ll never tell someone “Aspire to be an Esther.”

Yet this reality brings up a final reason this story is so important for us, especially now. Because if we’re honest, we do aspire to be an Esther—but for all the wrong reasons.

Esther embodies everything we think will make us happy. She is beautiful, rich, powerful; she has immense sexual charm and charisma; and she has a legion of servants at her beck and call. She’s kind of the Kim Kardashian of the Old Testament.

Why is Kim Kardashian so famous? Why does she show up on magazine covers, and why do entertainment shows and websites document her every move? It’s because her way of life is compelling. We think she has achieved the “good life”: fame, success, money, sex, power.

Esther embodies the same life . . . right up until her spiritual crisis comes (and Esther’s crisis, we’ll see, is every bit as spiritual as it is political). At that point, Esther has to reckon with God and her place as one of God’s people. She has to choose between power and weakness. Between safety and vulnerability. Between living a life of comfort and risking her life in hopes of saving her soul.

A STORY FOR OUR TIME

In [Faith Among the Faithless], I’ll retell the story of Esther. You’ll notice that I don’t quote the text much, and that’s intentional. For many of us, this is a familiar story, and I want to make the familiar strange, or at least fresh. If I have taken too many liberties, I apologize. I come from a long line of storytellers, and storytellers tend to emphasize the parts they like best. Here, I am not so much trying to entertain as to bring to your attention some of the details. I also hope to help you see these characters in their glorious, broken, and sometimes terrifying humanity.

I also want to retell the story because I think it is one of the best stories in Scripture. The characters, ironies, and plot twists make the story read like an Elmore Leonard novel. And . . . I hope that the elements of this story might surprise you a bit once again.

Most of all, I hope they give you a sense of the way forward in this strange in-between space we occupy. Whatever happens in the years and decades to come, we can be sure that faithfulness looks pretty much like it did three thousand years ago.

Sometimes it looks like Daniel: a steady path of spiritual formation and obedience. But sometimes, and perhaps more often than not in the world we occupy today, it looks more like Esther: a path of awakening, risk, vulnerability, and, ultimately, hope.

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Content taken from Faith Among the Faithless: Learning from Esther How to Live in a World Gone Mad by Mike Ciosper, ©2018. Used by permission of Nelson Books, Nashville, TN.

Mike Cosper is the executive director of Harbor Media, a non-profit media company serving Christians in a post-Christian world. He served for sixteen years as a pastor at Sojourn Community Church in Louisville, Kentucky, and is the author of Recapturing the Wonder, The Stories We Tell, and Rhythms of Grace. He lives with his family in Louisville, Kentucky.

Are You Ashamed of the Gospel?

I share the gospel like it’s a gift card at a kid’s birthday party—an obligatory present I hope they don’t open in front of me. Know the feeling?

If so, then we’re in good company.

Timothy was a young man in over his head and out on his own. He was being sent into the marketplace, the town square, and people’s homes to tell them that Jesus was crucified, buried, then rose from the dead after three days and that this was good news for them, who were sinners by nature and separated from God.

A SPIRIT OF FEAR AND TIMIDITY

Timothy, the young mentee of the Apostle Paul, was known to be a reluctant leader who was often timid and fearful. For some reason, he was prone to sickness, so much so that Paul mentioned his “frequent ailments” and told him to stop drinking water only and instead to drink a little wine, which was helpful for controlling stomach infections in that day (1 Tim. 5:23). On top of that, Timothy was young for his position of influence.

Because of his natural bent towards timidity, his recurring sickness, and his youth, Timothy was tempted to be ashamed of the gospel. That was a bit of a problem for the man whom Paul commissioned to guard the gospel in Ephesus, where he had recently founded the church.

Timothy was being asked to take the gospel of Jesus into a culture that didn’t want to hear about it. The people of Ephesus were living in one of the wealthiest places in the world. Many of them would have been living comfortable lives and were perfectly content to appease the gods so they could continue their pursuit of pleasure and happiness.

Things were going pretty well for the Ephesians, so who needed God? Who wants to hear about a suffering God that was killed on a cross then raised from the dead, and is now calling us to lay our lives down and follow him?

No wonder Timothy was timid and tempted to be ashamed of the gospel.

And no wonder we’re timid and tempted to be ashamed. Surely you see the parallels in his task and ours? Like Timothy, you and I are called to take the gospel to work and into people’s homes in a time where many are apathetic or hostile to what they think of as Christianity. They’re not quite sure what it is, but they know they don’t want anything to do with it because they’re doing just fine. After all, they’ve got a roof over their head, a job that pays, and a smartphone in their pocket. Why add God to the mix when things seem to be going okay? Why can’t they just keep pursuing the American Dream?

These cultural pressures make it seem so difficult to share Jesus with our neighbors and friends and family, even though we believe it to be good news for them. Why is it so hard?

REMEMBER THE GOSPEL

Fortunately, we have a record of Paul’s advice to Timothy. In his second letter to the young Timothy, Paul writes,

“Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” – 2 Timothy 1:8-10

In this exhortation, Paul tells Timothy to remember the gospel. He tells Timothy not to be ashamed of the gospel because God saved and called him to a holy calling. God set Timothy apart. God called Timothy not because of his own merits but because of God’s own purpose and grace in Christ.

The same is true of you, if you’re a believer. God has set you apart. God did that not because of your own merits but because of his own purposes and grace which he gave us in Christ, which was his plan all along. Now that plan has manifested itself through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Messiah who conquered death and brought us life and immortality.

Paul was reminding Timothy of the gospel he believed. He was calling Timothy to preach it to himself, for it is in remembering the gospel we believe that we receive the power to proclaim it. As we preach the gospel to ourselves, we are reminded of its powers and God’s grace, and it gives us the strength to preach the gospel to our friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors.

Paul knew this from experience. He braved angry mobs and academic elites. He faced people from his own culture and background. Oh, and most of these people wanted to kill him. Yet he stood strong and shared the gospel with them anyways. How?

FINDING CONFIDENCE IN THE GOSPEL

Later in this passage, Paul tells Timothy exactly where he gets his boldness from when he says, “...I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me” (2 Tim. 1:12).

Paul isn’t ashamed of the gospel because he knows the power and majesty of the One he believed in. Paul’s faith in Christ convinced him that God is able to guard what has been entrusted to him, which was the transmission of the gospel to the nations.

Paul knew Jesus. He didn’t feel like he was on his own when he shared the gospel. He knew that God was ultimately in charge of the gospel he had been entrusted with—and God cannot fail. Even before time began, God had one plan for all of humanity—to rescue and redeem them by the blood of Jesus so that people from every tribe, tongue, and nation would bow down before him and scream out, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty!”

Paul knew he was a chosen instrument. He knew he was important and loved by God. But he also knew that God could take the gospel to the nations with or without him, so it was simply an honor to participate in its spread during the short time he had.

The courage to share the gospel comes from the gospel. That’s what Paul means when he says to “share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God” (2 Tim. 1:8). God gives us the gospel, saves us by the gospel, then gives us the power to share the gospel.

DON’T BE ASHAMED

Are you ashamed of the gospel? Are you afraid to tell people about Jesus? Then remind yourself of the God who saved you.

When I’m fearful of sharing the gospel, I must remind myself of what I was like before knowing Christ—I was dead in my sins in which I once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, carrying out the desires of my body and mind, and was by nature a child of wrath (Eph. 2:1-3). But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved me, even when I was dead in my trespasses, made me alive together with Christ—by grace I have been saved (Eph. 2:4-5)!

Oh, when I remember that God willed for his own Son to be crushed (Is. 53:10) that he might inherit broken, imperfect sinners like me, how can I not share his gospel? Father, keep the taste of your grace always on my lips and let me not shrink from lavishing it on your children. Remind me of the grace and mercy you poured out on me as I go and pour it out for someone else.

Grayson Pope (M.A., Christian Studies) is a husband and father of three, and the Managing Web Editor at GCD. He serves as a writer and editor with Prison Fellowship. For more of Grayson’s writing check out his website, or follow him on Twitter.

The Best Worst Day Ever

They had known him his whole life. As his aunt and uncle, they had watched him grow from a little boy into a man who had faithfully provided for his widowed mother and siblings. Then, as his public ministry began, they had followed him and had come to believe, however crazy the thought might seem, that their nephew, Jesus, was actually the Messiah, the One who would redeem Israel. But then the unthinkable happened. Right when they thought things were finally coming together, when Jesus had entered Jerusalem to songs of “Hosanna,” he had been betrayed, arrested, tried, and executed. The shock, fear, and grief that came crashing into their hearts would have been indescribable. Their dear nephew was dead. The Romans had done it again. Their nation would remain under their cruel oppressors.

And so, after a few days in hiding and mourning, when the Sabbath ended and they could travel, Cleopas and probably his wife, (another) Mary[i], began their journey home to Emmaus. It had been the worst weekend of their lives. But everything was about to change.

BURNING HEARTS

As they made the journey along the dusty road home, they were joined by a stranger. “What are you talking about?” he inquired. “Don’t you know what’s happened these last few days?” they answered.

They proceeded to describe how their dreams had been crushed beneath Rome’s heel. But then, as the stranger spoke to them, their hearts began to glow and then burst to flame again. Later they would say to their friends, “Did not our hearts burn within us while he . . . opened to us the Scriptures?” (Luke 24:32).

What set them on fire?  What changed them? The resurrection and their new understanding of the Scriptures.

That Jesus would have risen from the dead was completely unthinkable to them, even though they had actually heard stories from those who had seen the empty tomb, and even though he had foretold it. They simply didn’t have a category for understanding what had just happened. So Jesus had to open both the Scriptures and their understanding. And that’s just what he did, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27). And as he did this, their hearts, once shattered, cold, and unbelieving, were set ablaze.

In one short conversation, Jesus explained the meaning of the Old Testament to them. Although they were certainly familiar with it and undoubtedly knew that it foretold a Messiah who would bring redemption, they had misread it. They had assumed the Christ would be a powerful king who would establish an earthly kingdom, exalting their nation and expelling their oppressors. They had misread all the stories about Abraham, Israel, Moses, David, and Daniel as being about them and their ultimate earthly success. And it was their misreading that caused their confusion and sadness. So he opened their eyes and they began to see.

Filled with excitement and joy, they made the journey back to Jerusalem and brought the news to the eleven disciples. And then, the Lord “stood among them” (Luke 24:36) and repeated the same conversation with the whole group. He “opened their minds to understand the Scriptures” (Luke 24:45).

IT’S ALL ABOUT JESUS

What was the meaning of the Scriptures? What had Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms been about? They were actually about the gospel.

Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem (Luke 24:46-47).

The entire corpus of the Old Testament was about the gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ, the God-Man who would become one of us, live perfectly, die shamefully, then rise and ascend bodily. It was about mankind’s need for redemption, as seen over and over again in the epic failures of every one of its “heroes.” It was about the suffering that everyone deserved and the patience and forbearance of the Lord who had held out his hands to a disobedient and contrary people “all day long” (Rom 10:21). And it was about the child of the woman who would trample under and crush Satan, the tempter (See Gen. 3:15).

But how would this happen? Shockingly, it would happen through the suffering of the only One who didn’t deserve to suffer, the Sinless Son. As much as his disciples had believed that Jesus was the Christ, they had missed this message entirely.

ARE WE MISSING THE POINT?

And so do we. We miss the message when we try to turn the Bible into morality tales that tell us how to have our best lives now. Be like Moses! Dare to be a Daniel! we’re told. We miss the message when we use it like tarot cards, predicting our personal future: Should I move to Atlanta? What does this verse say? And we miss the message when we read the Bible as though we’re doing our algebra homework, so we can get a good grade from God for the day.

The Bible, both Old and New Testaments, are about Jesus, our need for redemption from sin, new life, and his mission supply all that we need. It demonstrates the truth that all people are fallen and in need of redemption from outside ourselves. And it shows us where that redemption comes from: the second Person of the Trinity who took upon himself our flesh and our debt, lived the life no one had ever lived, died the death we all deserved, and then broke the power of the curse of sin for disobedience by rising on the third day.

What turned the disciples’ worst day into their best? Nothing less than the gospel. And when we read it the way he taught them to, our hearts will blaze into zealous fire too!

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Elyse Fitzpatrick is a frequent speaker at churches, retreats, and large conferences such as The Gospel Coalition and True Woman. She has an MA in biblical counseling from Trinity Theological Seminary and has authored 23 books on daily living and the Christian life and lives with her husband in San Diego, California. Learn more at www.elysefitzpatrick.com.

[i] http://www.jesus.org/death-and-resurrection/resurrection/who-were-the-disciples-on-the-road-to-emmaus.html

6 Breathtaking Examples of Motherhood from History

Fifteen years ago, I was eight months pregnant and hungry—not just for food, but for godly wisdom on how to raise children who know and love the Lord. My husband and I had no idea how to be distinctly Christian parents to this baby that was on her way into our world. We spent my first Mother’s Day at a parenting conference, which began a lifelong quest to find out how moms before me raised their children in the Lord. History offers today’s Christian women “older women…to teach what is good…that the word of God may not be reviled” (Tit. 2:3-5).

Here are six historical moms who show us what it looks like to raise our children in the Lord.

MONICA – mother of Augustine of Hippo (332-387)

Monica mothered a man who became one of our most influential church fathers. Augustine shaped not only many of the doctrines central to the Christian faith, but his clear thinking and theology forged the church of the next millennia. Augustine was not always a follower of Christ, however. As a young adult, he rejected his mother’s faith with disdain. Unwed, he lived with a woman, fathered a child, and pursued a life of hedonism.

Monica’s early hopes were for her son to live a life of status and privilege, but they evolved into a drive to see her son saved. At 31, Augustine was in the midst of a noteworthy career in philosophy, education, and rhetoric when skepticism gave way under the Bishop of Milan’s influence and the power of his mother’s prayers as he surrendered to the Lord Jesus Christ.

Augustine was fully aware that his mother’s prayers were instrumental in his conversion. In his autobiography, Confessions, Augustine said, “My mother placed great hope in [God],” and she “was in greater labor to ensure my salvation than she had been at my birth.” He praises Monica’s persistent prayers on his behalf throughout all of his works. After her death, he grieved that she was "now gone from my sight, who for years had wept over me, that I might live in [God's] sight."[1]

Lesson for moms today: Labor in persistent in prayer (Phil. 4:6) for your children and rightly see their salvation as utmost of value. Invite God to change your worldly goals for your kids into Christ-centered ones.

SARAH EDWARDS – wife of Jonathan Edwards, mother of eleven (1710-1758)

Sarah was married to Jonathan Edwards, a Reformed preacher and theologian, and a key player in the First Great Awakening. The legacy of the Edwards’ home life is famously exhibited in a list compiled in 1900 of the life work of their eleven children and their descendants: college presidents and professors, lawyers and physicians, judges and senators, public servants from mayors to a U.S. vice president, authors, and hundreds of ministers and overseas missionaries. Sarah’s motherhood impacts every corner of American history.

Jonathan was known to be driven and passionate. He spent as many as thirteen hours a day studying. Visitors to the Edwards’ home report that though Jonathan was indeed involved in family life, the brunt of household duties—rearing the children and tending to guests—fell largely on Sarah. However, she created a happy home, an environment built on routine, rigor, and discipline.[2]

Lesson for moms today: Serve your family wholeheartedly, as to the Lord, trusting him to make himself known through you for generations to come (Col. 3:17). Through everyday acts of service, mothers can make a historic—and eternal—impact through their children.

SOJOURNER TRUTH – former slave, abolitionist, activist, and mother of five (c. 1797-1883)

Sojourner was born a slave in New York and first sold away from her parents at the young age of nine. Later she married an older slave, bore five children, and was widowed. In the years just prior to emancipation in New York, Sojourner was promised freedom by her master, who reneged after she completed the work they agreed upon. In response, Sojourner took her infant daughter and walked to freedom in broad daylight, saying that she had nothing to hide, as freedom had been promised to her. Her master eventually caught up with her, but her remaining year of servitude was purchased by an abolitionist family.

Shortly after gaining freedom, Sojourner learned that her former master had illegally sold her five-year-old son to a slaveholder in Alabama. Incensed, Sojourner set out to demand the return of her son. She personally navigated the judicial system in Alabama, took the issue to court, and won—making her the first black woman to win a case against a white man. Reunited with her son Peter, they moved to New York City where Sojourner heard the gospel and believed. Following her conversion to Christ, Sojourner said, “The Spirit Calls me and I must go.” She set out to be an abolitionist, women’s rights activist, and preacher of the gospel.[3]

Lesson for moms today: Pursue justice—no matter the cost. Be brave and committed to the truth. Love righteousness and justice (Ps. 33:5), not just at home, but all around you.

AMY CARMICHAEL – mother of hundreds (1867-1951)

Born in Ireland, Amy’s first ministry experience was in Belfast amongst “Shawlies”—impoverished girls who worked in the mills and could only afford to wear shawls rather than hats. After hearing Hudson Taylor speak, Amy felt called to missions overseas. She served briefly in Japan before an illness forced to return home. She suffered from neuralgia, a disease that caused great pain and weakness and required weeks of bedrest.

Despite her poor health, Amy remained steadfast in answering God’s call to share his love overseas. She set out for Bangalore, India in 1895 where she joined a band of Indian Christian women who traveled from village to village sharing the gospel. Amy worked hard to become fluent in Tamil and understand the Hindu religion and culture.

Along with her teammates, she established the Dohnavur Fellowship, which became a home for children rescued or escaped forced servitude in Hindu temples. Over time, Amy became Amma, or “mother,” to hundreds of rescued babies, children, and teenagers. About twenty years into her maternal role, she fell and was so badly injured that she was forced by restraints to stay in her bedroom for the rest of her life, which lasted another twenty years. That time, though undoubtedly painful on many levels, was not wasted. Amy welcomed little ones into her room and penned nearly 40 books.[4] [5]

Lesson for moms today: Lack of biological children doesn’t preclude you from being a mother. Be a mother to the motherless. Show your religion by loving the orphan (Jas. 1:27). Spend ourselves on the least of these. And don’t let anything stop you from proclaiming the gospel.

ALBERTA KING – mother of Martin Luther King, Jr. (1904—1974)

Alberta Williams King was a minister’s wife, an organ player and choir founder at Atlanta’s Ebenezer Baptist Church, member of the NAACP and YWCA, and mother of three children, including Martin Luther King, Jr.

In his autobiography, King said, “My mother confronted the age-old problem of the Negro parent in America: how to explain discrimination and segregation to a small child. She taught me that I should feel a sense of ‘somebodiness' but that on the other hand I had to go out and face a system that stared me in the face every day saying you are ‘less than,’ you are ‘not equal to…’ She made it clear that she opposed this system and that I must never allow it to make me feel inferior. . . . At this time Mother had no idea that the little boy in her arms would years later be involved in a struggle against the system she was speaking of.”

Six years after her son was assassinated, Alberta was gunned down while playing the organ at her church.[6]

Lesson for moms today: Champion the “somebodiness” inherent in all people because they are created in God’s image (Gen. 1:26-27) and teach your children to do the same.

ELISABETH ELLIOT – wife, missionary, and mother (1926-2015)

Elisabeth was born to missionaries and zealously pursued missions herself. After studying Greek in college, she went to Ecuador to share Christ with unreached tribes. Jim Elliot was also in Ecuador, and they were soon married. Along with a team of missionaries, the Elliot’s set out to locate and contact the Auca Indians who had previously killed everyone that tried to make contact.

When Elisabeth’s first and only child, Valerie, was ten months old, Jim and four other missionaries were speared to death when they reached with the Auca people. Undeterred from the mission, Elisabeth stayed in Ecuador with Valerie and continued pursuing ministry among the Auca.

Valerie recently said, “Because my parents prayed and hoped to bring Indians to the Lord, when my father was killed my mother had no plan or immediate thought she should leave Ecuador. Human fears would flood her mind, but verses from Scripture gave her peace and assurance we would be taken care of. Mother continued to work with the Indians and continued to pray for them. And the more that she prayed for them, the greater her love grew for these people in need of a Savior.”[7]

Lesson for moms today: Motherhood doesn’t preclude you from mission. Be a mom on mission. Go and make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:19)—and take your children with you.

CONSIDER AND IMITATE YOUR LEADERS

The writer of Hebrews admonished early Christians to “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith” (Heb. 13:7).

These six women from history are leaders to the moms of today. Let’s imitate their faith as we seek to raise our children in the Lord.

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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.

[1] https://www.christianity.com/church/church-history/timeline/301-600/augustine-couldnt-outrun-mothers-prayers-11629656.html

[2] https://www.desiringgod.org/messages/sarah-edwards-jonathans-home-and-haven

[3] http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/truth/1850/1850-16.html

[4] http://www.bu.edu/missiology/missionary-biography/c-d/carmichael-amy-beatrice-1867-1951/

[5] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_Carmichael

[6] https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/publications/autobiography-martin-luther-king-jr-contents/chapter-1-early-years

[7] http://christiannewswire.com/news/4639520474.html

3 Ways Googling Hinders Your Growth and Your Church

Every day, I turn on my phone and scroll for wisdom. Sometimes it comes from friends that are friends in real life. Other times it comes from my carefully curated experts. There are some I go to for political analysis, and others for parenting advice. There are experts on theology, sexual abuse, and the commentators on racial division. They’re knowledgeable and instantly offer Biblical advice or encouragement.

But is this really what’s best for me or the church?

Not too long ago, if you had a parenting question you would call your mom. If you wanted a book recommendation, you would ask a friend, or if you had a question on a difficult passage of Scripture, you would wait to talk with your pastor or Bible study group.

Then the search bar arrived with its instant, reliable answers. The rise of social media makes the availability of information even faster as we can now turn to a host of people we have personally vetted to feed us answers. It is true that the internet is a wonderful tool in our day and age that enables us to gain wisdom and see the global church of Christ with incredible clarity. Still, there is an underlying danger when we start to use social media as our go-to for expert information. This pattern hinders not only our own growth but the growth of Christ’s church in several ways.

STEALING HUMILITY

One of the ways it hinders our growth is by robbing us of opportunities to learn through humility. When I’m in a tough spot with my young children, I’d rather send off a quick post to my homeschool group on Facebook than call an older mom in my church who has walked this path before me. I make all kinds of excuses, but in reality, I’d rather receive instant encouragement from strangers than become vulnerable and teachable in the community God has given me. The truth is it’s easier to turn to our friends on the internet for advice or even confess our sinful struggles because we do not live, worship, and learn alongside these saints each week. We feel safer and protected in our online bubbles, but our attempts to save face actually hinder our spiritual growth.

Often times the means of greatest growth and grace in our lives is not through the cheers of distant acquaintances, but through the humbling counsel of the people who know us the most. Of course, we can still use the internet for advice and even for friendships, but are there some conversations we aren’t having with saints in our local church because we fear to be vulnerable? Proverbs tells us that with humility comes wisdom (11:2), and three times in Scripture it is repeated that God gives grace to the humble (Prov. 3:34, Jas. 4:6, 1 Pet. 5:5, ESV). The cost of laying down our pride is worth the blessings of growth and grace we will receive in return.

THE BEAUTY OF THE BODY

Another way seeking all our answers online hinders our growth is by limiting our ability to see how the body of Christ works. There is a distinct difference in the way we feel the church through social media than through our local church down the road. I could ask my favorite author for a book recommendation, but their answer would not be as encouraging to me as when my pastor handed me a giant theology book and said, “Here you go, eat it one bite at a time.” While I have learned much from my favorite authors, they don’t know me like my pastor. He is the one who sees me each week and has heard my questions and what I’m passionate about. He knows how busy I am with three kids, which projects my family is working on, and he’s both challenging and encouraging me in a way that no far-off Christian writer ever could.

As brothers and sisters we are called to serve one another (1 Pet. 4:10, ESV), to encourage one another (Heb. 3:13, ESV), to teach one another, and to hold each other accountable (Col. 3:16, ESV). While these commands can be carried out on the internet, they begin and flourish in the local church.

What if along with racing to see those end-of-year book lists we stopped an elder and asked what book he recommends? What if we asked a godly teacher what reading plan she was going through? As we purposely take these questions to those around us, it blesses them as they are allowed to pour into us, while at the same time showing us the accountability of the body of Christ. No longer are we faceless avatars, but fellow laborers in our community. We assume the role of a saint who not only wants an answer but a chance to form deeper relationships in the body of Christ.

THE RISE OF CELEBRITY

Finally, seeking all our answers on our smartphones contributes to the Christian celebrity culture that continues to ravage the body of Christ. It’s easy to believe our favorite authors, the wittiest podcasters, or the famous pastors on our phones have it all together, that their words can be trusted the most. But the reality is that behind that screen they are the same, sinful, flawed, and gospel-needing people like those sitting next to us in the pews. We must remember it is not because of any special skill or importance that some are elevated, but it is because “God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose” (1 Cor. 12:18, ESV). Christ is the head, and he has made each member of the body in need of each other. Moreover, Paul tells us that the parts that seem weak are indispensable, and we should bestow the greatest honor on the parts which seem less honorable (v. 22, 23).

When we start to use our social media groups as our primary source of advice, we see Paul’s definition of the body of Christ upside down. We don’t see each other in desperate need of grace, but we instead elevate certain members and forfeit the value of the “lesser members” sitting next to us. This warped sense of the body of Christ feeds our own pride and eventually sets us up for crushing disappointment when any of our esteemed leaders show their faults. We can and should benefit from the wisdom of public leaders, but we must make sure to prioritize and esteem the local church members God has given us. When we do this, we protect not only ourselves, but also those very leaders in the public eye.

FINDING THE BALANCE

God is sovereign over the internet and our online relationships. We don’t need to pull the plug completely, but we do need to examine the balance we’re striking. There may be some tweets we shouldn’t send and some conversations we can wait to have face to face. In doing this, God strengthens not only our own congregation but the entire body of Christ.

Next time you’re tempted to ask your phone to function as your church, think of who in your church might be able to answer the same question.

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Brianna Lambert is a wife and mom to three, making their home in the cornfields of Indiana. She loves using writing to work out the truths God is teaching her each day. She has contributed to various online publications such as Morning by Morning and Fathom magazine. You can find more of her writing paired with her husband’s photography at lookingtotheharvest.com.

Fixing Our Discipleship Deficiency

The gospel is the church's most precious gift to cherish, protect, and pass on. If we get the gospel right, we are on a holy and healthy journey into discipleship.^[1] If we get the gospel wrong, we get everything wrong. Right now, we are experiencing a discipleship deficit. To her own detriment, the church in recent years has defined discipleship as optional, a choice and not a command.^[2]

With the death of Christendom and the rise of secular postmodernity, the American church is now a mission field.^[3] While Christianity is growing and flourishing in many parts of the world, it seems to be declining in America. The number of Christians and cultural strength of Christianity are both declining in the United States, even in the Bible Belt. The research and polling of George Barna and George Gallup consistently demonstrates that in terms of moral values and lifestyle choices there is little distinction between Christians and non-Christians within the United States.

Christianity in America seems to be compromised to the core.^[4] How can this be?

GOSPEL BANKRUPTCY

Unfortunately, many pulpits lack the gospel and many pews lack discipleship. A church that is deficient in discipleship is deficient in its fundamental reason for existence.^[5] The church must make Jesus’ final command her primary mission. In many churches, the Great Commission has been stated as the primary purpose of the church, but not obeyed. As Jesus’ last words, the Great Commission expresses his greatest passion and top priority. As stated in Matthew 28:18-20, the Great Commission is:

“And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’”

Discipleship is, and always has been, Jesus’ plan A for the church—and there is no plan B. Robby Gallaty says, “A return to biblical discipleship will enact the reformation of the 21st century.”^[6] God has not promised to bless good motives, dreams, and innovation. He has promised to bless his plan; his plan is that the church would be about making disciples who make other disciples.^[7]

Robert Coleman, the author of The Master Plan of Evangelism, said, “The solution to our ineffectiveness as church is to train people to be spiritually mature, fully devoted followers of Christ, and in turn to have those disciples make more disciples.”^[8] If the church is going to be good at anything, it must be good at making disciples.

AN AGE OF DISCIPLESHIP

In his book Discipleship Essentials, Greg Ogden writes, “I can only hope and pray that a century from now (if Christ has not returned) when church historians study the time in which we live that it will be called an age of discipleship.”^[9] An age of discipleship characterized the early church—after the Great Commission—and can still characterize us.

Faithfulness to the Great Commission must begin with a true understanding of the gospel message. The gospel fuels the Great Commission. If Christians should be crystal clear about one thing, it’s the gospel. Christians are meant to be “unashamed of the gospel” (Rom. 1:16) because it is “the power of God for salvation” (1 Cor. 1:18) and is intended to be “of first importance” (1 Cor. 15:2).

Bill Hull has said, “One of the perennial tasks of the church is to reexamine the gospel we preach and believe, alert to ways it has been reshaped by the idols of our culture.”^[10] Why? Because the gospel we believe will determine the disciples we make. We cannot make Christ-like disciples with a flawed gospel message. Pharisees were good at making disciples. Unfortunately, according to Jesus, they were making disciples of hell (Matt. 23:15). The Pharisees were perpetuating a false gospel that led to damnation. Consider the Apostle Paul’s warning in Galatians 1:9: “If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed.” As in the Apostle Paul’s day, false teachers and false gospels abound in our culture.

The goal of the Great Commission is to get the true gospel to all nations. Jesus said, “this gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come” (Matt. 24:14). Disciple-making will lead to the consummation of God’s Kingdom!

If you’re in a church setting that seems to have lost sight of the Great Commission, be encouraged because change is possible. I know because I’m watching it happen all around me. As a result of taking God at his Word and obeying it, I’m watching older men and women invest their lives in younger men and women. I’m watching families engage in foster care, adoption, and special needs ministry as a result of a God-given burden for the lost and marginalized. I’m watching our people serve the homeless and mentor children of our local public schools. I’m watching parents disciple their kids. I’m watching people obey God’s call to plant churches. Our people are praying more, giving more, and going more.

I am witnessing God awaken and empower his people to the importance of disciple-making. I am seeing God transition a traditionally non-disciple-making church into a disciple-making church. It seems God is doing this, not just in our church, but all over the world.

COUNT THE COST

To be clear, the cost of transitioning to a disciple-making church may be great, but the cost of non-disciple-making is much greater. If you are a church leader, allow me to offer some practical suggestions on transitioning to being a disciple-making church. These are things we either have done or are implementing, at Calvary Baptist Church:

• Define the gospel. Define the gospel as revealed by God through his Word. Communicate your gospel definition consistently (in spoken word and in writing) from all platforms, including the pulpit, small groups, meetings, etc. Define key terminology, such as “disciple” and “discipleship.” Don’t allow terms like “discipleship” or “making disciples” to become catchwords and lose their meaning.
• Develop a simple and clear disciple-making strategy. If you don’t have a plan to fulfill the Great Commission, you probably don’t intend to do it. Aim to minimize programs and maximize the process of disciple-making. Once developed, communicate this strategy clearly, consistently, and visibly. Make sure your people understand how you intend to lead them to make disciples. Lead in disciple-making by example. Realize there is no perfect or silver bullet strategy. Whatever your strategy, prayerfully depend on God to transform and grow people.
• Champion disciple-making. Lead your church to rediscover the importance of disciple-making through teaching, example, and individual conversations. Use all means necessary to call your members to be disciple-makers. Championing discipleship means conveying disciple-making as a lifestyle, not a program.
• Equip your people for the work of disciple-making. It seems many people in our churches understand the importance of disciple-making, but are paralyzed because they have no idea what to do or where to start. Relentlessly equip your people to make, mature, and multiply disciples of Christ. Train them. Challenge them. Lead them step-by-step.
• Celebrate “wins” in disciple-making. Your church will celebrate what you celebrate. Take every opportunity to celebrate the work God is doing in the area of discipleship.
• Be patient. Disciple-making is a marathon, not a sprint. The journey is the destination. Because the concept of disciple-making will always be new for some, they may be hesitant to get started, and slow to mature and multiply. At our church, we are in year seven of our transition and we are seeing more and more fruit because we are remaining patient and not giving up. Pray for God to awaken your people—as he has you—to the importance of discipleship.
• Trust God. Take God at his Word. The beauty of the command to “go and make disciples” is that the church is never left to do the work of God apart from the power of God. The promise of Jesus’ power ( 28:19) and Jesus’ presence (28:20) should give you assurance and confidence in making disciples.

BEAR THE FRUIT OF DISCIPLESHIP

This is not an exhaustive list, but it’s a good place to start. According to the Westminster Shorter Catechism, “the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” How does one glorify God? I believe Jesus provides the best answer in John 15:8, “My Father is glorified by this: that you produce much fruit and prove to be My disciples.”

God’s ultimate plan is for his children to bring glory to his name as disciples of Jesus Christ. As God brings history to an end, disciple-making is the only cause that will matter. Let’s count the cost of being disciple-making disciples, and then let’s get to work.

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Dan Tankersley (M.A., New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary) currently is Discipleship Pastor at Calvary Baptist Church of Dothan, Alabama. He is married to his beautiful bride Anna, and they have one son, Elijah. Dan's passionate about spurring God's people on to make disciples. 

^[1] Ibid., 14.

^[2] Hull, Bill. Conversion and Discipleship. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2016, 21.

^[3] Hull, Bill. The Disciple-Making Church. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Publishing Group, 2.010, 56

^[4] Ogden, Greg. Discipleship Essentials. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007, 7.

^[5] Ibid., 11.

^[6] Gallaty, Robby. Rediscovering Discipleship. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2015, 87.

^[7] Harrington, Bobby and Josh Patrick. The Disciple Maker’s Handbook. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2017.

^[8] Putman, Jim and Bobby Harrington. DiscipleShift. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2013.

^[9] Ogden, Greg. Discipleship Essentials. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007, 8.

^[10] Ibid., 23.

The Acid Test of Our Profession

The acid test of our profession is this: What do you feel like when you are sitting in an air-raid shelter and you can hear the bombs dropping round and about you, and you know that the next bomb may land on you and may be the end of you? That is the test. How do you feel when you are face-to-face with the ultimate, with the end? –Martyn Lloyd-Jones[1]

The apostle Paul counsels Christians, “Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith” (2 Cor. 13:5). Of the many different criteria one could utilize to determine whether someone is a true Christian, is any one test better than the rest? Martyn Lloyd-Jones, the Doctor, believes that one is. He calls it the “acid test” of Christianity: “the most delicate, the most sensitive test, the test of tests.”[2]

THE DOCTOR'S DEFINITION: THE ACID TEST

The Doctor begins by considering three different tests of genuine faith: (1) the doctrinal test, (2) the morality test, and (3) the experience test.[3]

The first, the doctrinal test, Lloyd-Jones calls “the test of orthodoxy.” He argues that orthodoxy is vitally important, and one cannot be a Christian without it, but it is inadequate by itself because one can have dead orthodoxy.

The second, the morality test, says that moral living is what matters because what people do is more important than what they say. Once again, the Doctor says that morality and conduct are absolutely essential; one cannot be a Christian without holy conduct. Yet one can live a moral life and not be a Christian. Nonbelievers can live highly ethical and moral lives. The test of conduct is not a test that can stand on its own.

The third test is the test of experience. Once again Lloyd-Jones agrees that experience is a vital part of the whole Christian position. One must be born again to be a Christian. But the cults also stress experience, and thus experience by itself is not a reliable guide. Lloyd-Jones mentions that one of the most dramatic changes he ever saw in a person’s life happened when a woman he knew joined the cult of Christian Science. “She was entirely changed and transformed—a great experience!”[4] If we put up experience as the ultimate standard, the acid test, we are left without any reply to these various cults.

In the end, the Doctor evaluates each test and pronounces that each one is essential but not sufficient to stand on its own. The three are not “delicate and sensitive enough to merit the term acid test.”[5] But the Doctor puts forth one great standard of analysis that does incorporate all the other assessments (mind, heart, and actions): the hope of glory. He argues that 2 Corinthians 4:17–18 is the acid test of Christianity: “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

The particular sermon in which he makes this point was preached and recorded in 1969 in Pensacola, Florida, during a hurricane warning. The organizers moved up the Sunday evening service to 2:00 p.m. so that congregants could be in their homes by the time Hurricane Camille struck the city. The Doctor proclaimed that the ultimate proof of a Christian profession comes in moments that bring us face-to-face with time and eternity, life and death. Therefore, he addressed the impending danger of the hurricane in a direct way. One man present for the sermon said he had a sense that “the sermon was not in the Doctor’s plan but was one he had used during the Blitz and thought appropriate for the occasion.”[6]

Lloyd-Jones’s sermon references the Nazi Blitzkrieg upon London in World War II. The Nazis conducted an air strike in which they ruthlessly and relentlessly dropped bombs on London. The whole nation was ready to lose heart. People could find no hope in what they saw outside their windows. They could see no reasons to rejoice in the rubble. The Doctor says that the true criterion of Christianity is not how you feel in pleasant circumstances or while you are reading theology. It is how you respond to the worst circumstances.

THE REAL TEST

The acid test of our profession is this: What do you feel like when you are sitting in an air-raid shelter and you can hear the bombs dropping round and about you, and you know that the next bomb may land on you and may be the end of you? That is the test. How do you feel when you are face-to-face with the ultimate, with the end?[7]

Next, Lloyd-Jones works back through the three assessments one by one to show that the hope of glory in the face of death is a sufficient answer to guarantee all of the others.

I suggest that this is the acid test because, you see, it covers my orthodoxy. The only people who can speak like this are those who know whom they have believed, those who are certain of their faith. Nobody else can. Other people can turn their backs upon disasters and whistle to keep up their courage in the dark, they can do many things, but they cannot speak like this without being orthodox.[8]

The hope of glory also covers the criterion of morality. “This test also guarantees conduct and morality, because the trouble with people who merely have an intellectual belief is that in the moment of crisis their faith does not help them. They feel condemned. Their consciences accuse them. They are in trouble because they know they are frauds.”[9]

The hope of glory also incorporates the proof of experience.

And in the same way this test also guarantees the experiential element, the life, the power, the vigor. People cannot speak like this unless these truths are living realities to them. They are the only ones who are able to look upon calamity and smile at it and refer to it as “our light affliction, which is but for a moment,” which “worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”[10]

The hope of glory gives probing proof of a true Christian profession because calamity will cause other, counterfeit hopes to come crashing down. When all earthly hopes are lost, a Christian still has hope because his hope is fixed not upon this passing world but upon the world to come.

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Content taken from Lloyd-Jones on the Christian Life: Doctrine and Life as Fuel and Fire by Jason Meyer, ©2018. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

Jason C. Meyer (PhD, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is pastor for preaching and vision at Bethlehem Baptist Church and associate professor of New Testament at Bethlehem College and Seminary. Prior to coming to Bethlehem, he served as dean of chapel and assistant professor of Christian Studies at Louisiana College. He is the author of Preaching: A Biblical Theology and a commentary on Philippians in the ESV Expository Commentary.

[1] Setting Our Affections upon Glory: Nine Sermons on the Gospel and the Church (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2013), 16.

[2] Ibid., 13.

[3] Ibid., 13–15.

[4] Ibid., 15.

[5] Ibid.

[6] John Schultz, forward to Lloyd-Jones, Setting Our Affections upon Glory, 9.

[7] Lloyd-Jones, Setting Our Affections upon Glory, 16.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Ibid., 16–17.

Spelunking Our Way to Salvation

My favorite Batman movie is The Dark Knight Rises. And not just because it has Christian Bale, and not Ben Affleck, playing Batman. I love this film because it resonates with my soul. Batman’s back is broken in a battle against the evil Bane, and the Dark Knight is left for dead in a dark, inescapable pit. Bruce Wayne, our strong hero, is broken, hopeless, confused, and trapped in a deep cave.

Caves are dark, musty, disorienting, and lonely. And sooner or later, we all end up in one.

Not literally, of course. But in the course of life, our souls stumble into caves of brokenness, pain, hurt, grieving, and suffering. We feel like David fleeing his family, friends, throne, land—everything—because his son Absalom betrayed him. This is the cave.

LIFE IN THE CAVE IMPACTS EVERYTHING

Loss brings us to the cave. Loss of friendship, loss of dreams, loss of family, loss of hope. Often, loss is accompanied by even more loss, as friends, fans, and supporters who were around distance themselves.

The cave feels like rock bottom. The damp, cold, walls are all you have to cling to.

Life in the cave impacts everything.

Your finances, marriage, and career can be great, but it doesn’t matter—you’re in the cave. What brought you here hurt so deeply that the pain bleeds into every part of life.

If part of you is in the cave, all of you is in the cave.

WHAT DARKNESS BRINGS TO LIGHT

In the cave we are stripped of every hope other than Jesus. Hobbies, entertainment, food, and iPhones—none of these can help. They can distract from the pain, but some caves are just too dark to find comfort in distractions.

In the cave our pride is crushed. We become more aware than ever that Jesus—only Jesus—will never leave or forsake us. We are stripped of all the idols that are so prevalent outside.

In the cave we find out how much we really love Jesus, and how much we really trust him.

Caves are lonely, but you’re never alone in the cave. We have a God who does some of his best work in the cave. This makes even the darkest of caves beautiful.

The God of the Bible is a good God. He uses our pain and suffering, our brokenness, to bring about something beautiful. He uses all things for the good for those who love him (Rom. 8:28). He woos us in the cave.

CAVES REVEAL US

Spelunking is the exploration of caves. Spelunkers grope around in the dark with headlamps lighting their way. They never know what they might find, but in the end, the adventure reveals something about themselves.

I wouldn’t wish time in the cave on anyone, yet I wouldn’t trade my time there for anything. I’ve been in it more than once, and I would rather not enter it again.

Yet I know I would not know Jesus the same way I do today without times in the cave. Just as a miner delves deeper into the mountain to uncover flecks of shimmering gold, there is beauty in the depths of our cave because God is committed to mining our hearts and revealing the stone encasing them.

Caves reveal our hearts, and they reveal our closest friends. Jonathans reveal themselves to Davids in the cave. No friend can live there with you. Only you and Jesus can dwell there, but true friends can and will visit you in the cave. They will enter your pain, listen, pray, comfort, point you to Jesus and help in any way they can. It is these friends that help you see the dim, distant light that is the way out. These friends are priceless. They have seen the way out, and even though they don’t dwell in the cave, they can offer tremendous hope.

Jesus uses friends and family to help us take our first wobbly steps out of the cave. He uses them as a due north, a compass in the midst of a confusing, lost and dark time. That doesn’t mean everyone who abandons you is not a true friend. Certainly, some are inch-deep friends, but many just do not have the courage, maturity or time to visit you in the cave.

Some are in a cave of their own, and some are in such a time of joyful frolicking outside they don’t even recognize others are in caves. Don’t hold on to bitterness. While it reveals your truest and deepest friends, the cave also grows our compassion for those in caves and those who have no idea what this pain is like. We bear with one another and we grow in learning how to share one another’s burdens.

PURIFIED FOR COMMUNITY

While the cave is a very lonely place, the Lord never intends to use it for isolation, but as a furnace to melt away the impurities of superficial, self-centered community, purifying us for community with him and a newfound compassion for others.

Time in the cave deepens our longing for authentic Jesus-centered community, marked by dependence, brokenness, vulnerability, confession, and love. He reveals true friends, but also makes us into true friends, the kinds of friends that would visit others in the cave.

Jesus and Peter are restored after Jesus enters his cave, but Judas and Jesus were not. Finding the way out doesn’t mean every relationship is restored, but that every person is forgiven and Jesus is fully trusted to be the just judge. Confess all that you can confess, own all that you can own, and leave God to judge the rest. This helps us get off the floor of the cave.

Look to Jesus. Trust Jesus. Some things will reveal themselves over time as you wait upon the Lord. Sometimes the Absaloms show themselves to be Absalom, and the Jonathans show themselves to be Jonathan. Other times we never know. Either way, trust in Jesus. He is trustworthy.

THE ULTIMATE CAVE IS EMPTY

How do we know he is worthy of our trust? Because he willingly entered into the ultimate cave in order to keep us out of an eternal one.

Jesus left a heavenly paradise willingly to enter a cave on Earth. He was respected, followed, sought after and had a ministry that impacted villages, cities, towns and drew audiences from royalty to peasants and the sick. He walked with close friends, had moments of validation and appreciation both from people and from the Father. He knew life on Earth outside the cave.

He also knew ministry in the caves. He was a man of sorrows. He wept. He knew betrayal, abuse, false accusations, and abandonment. He knew physical, spiritual and relational pain and torment.

On the cross, he took on the sins of the world. He took every man, woman and child’s personal cave, all the sin they committed to get there, and all the sin committed against them that sent them there.

Jesus entered a very real cave. He was beaten, mocked, abused, abandoned and buried in a dark, cold, musty cave and left breathless, lifeless, dead. The king of heaven was crucified on a cross and buried in a cave. He didn’t have to do this. But he chose to out of love for us!

The Dark Knight Rises ends with Batman learning from his past and coming out of the cave stronger than ever. He defeats Bane, saves Gotham, and marries Catwoman.

Jesus is better. He defeated the ultimate cave. The stone was rolled away, the cave is empty, and Jesus is alive!

Jesus heals, restores, saves and resurrects. We have hope new life will come bursting forth from our deep, dark caves because Jesus Christ burst forth from his.

We get to ask for help, prayer, and friendship and be honest about our condition. And even in the darkest cave, we can have hope, knowing no cave is permanent for those who have trusted in Jesus.

And one day he will make all things new, even us. He will shine brighter than the sun, wipe away every tear, and turn every dark cave into a life-giving meadow! All creation will join together in worshipping and praising our King Jesus! And we will frolic for all of eternity, together in community, with him.

In the meantime, let us fix our eyes on Jesus, in both the meadows and the caves. Let us rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn. Living like a true friend to those around us who are in the meadow or in the cave, always pointing to the one who truly will never leave them or forsake them, always pointing to Jesus!

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Jake Chambers is the husband to his beautiful bride Lindsey, and a daddy to Ezra, Roseanna, Jaya and Gwen. Jake is passionate about Jesus and helping others meet and follow Jesus. He helped plant Red Door Church in San Diego and enjoys serving the local and global church through preaching, teaching, listening and praying.

Repentance: The First Step Out of Racism

Martin Luther King Jr. famously pointed out that Sunday mornings are “the most segregated hour in America.” Sadly, this still rings true as most churches in the West are still predominantly monocultural, despite neighborhoods around them becoming more and more diverse. The church, as an outpost of Jesus’ coming kingdom here on earth, is supposed to be a reflection of that final heavenly state. Yet many looking in might observe an unspoken reality of segregation inside our churches and mistakenly think following Jesus results in relationships between a bunch of people with the same skin color.

Some denominations and networks even urge their leaders to follow a “homogenous unit principle” that teaches how to gather a church core based on cultural commonalities further perpetuating this problem. That may be a savvy method for growing a business, but it is a thoroughly unbiblical way to build a church. How do we allow the scales to fall off of our eyes in order to long for the multicultural beauty of heaven to be realized here in our midst on earth?

A good place to start is to take to heart the vision of heaven’s citizens as being comprised “from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9), and then asking God to change our hearts to actually desire and work to see that reality in our churches.

FROM PRIVILEGE TO PEACE

Another Martin Luther kicked off the Reformation with these words: “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”

What place has repentance played in your spiritual journey? If it hasn’t played a central role, you might reconsider Jesus’ command to “repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15). This gospel says that apart from trusting in Christ’s death on your behalf and miraculous resurrection, the only thing you deserve is death and hell.

And if you’re white like me, the privilege you experience is a gift—not a right. What would it look like to humbly follow Jesus in casting aside your privilege to imitate him (Phil. 2:6-8) for the benefit of those “strangers” (Heb. 13:2^[1]) in minority cultures around you?

Martin Luther King Jr. noted that “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” Now, fifty years after his martyrdom, those words are just as true as they were then. If we don’t seek to end injustice for those of other cultures, it is a threat to the existence of justice in our own bubbles. All humans bear the imago dei, and injustice to any of them is an assault on that image.

Many of the unchurched folks in America are seeking answers to systemic racism and injustice that mark those in minority communities. God has revealed answers to these problems in Scripture and in the person of Christ, who broke “down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility” and created “in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and [reconciling] us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility” (Eph. 2:14-16).

Those in a position of power and privilege should initiate this ministry of peace and reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:18).

UNITY IN BELIEF, DIVERSITY IN BELONGING

One day we will share God’s perspective. On that day we “shall know fully, even as [we] have been fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12). We’re given insight into that perspective in Revelation, where the people of God’s prayers look much different than ours. There, God’s people long for him to purge sin from the earth entirely. The prayer of the martyrs:

“They cried out with a loud voice, ‘O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’ ” (Rev. 6:10)

What’s remarkable about this passage is not that these martyrs are crying out for vengeance, but that they are doing so with one loud voice. Not many voices, but one—unified. They embody the “one man” of Ephesians 2 above.

These folks are with Jesus in paradise (Luke 23:43), and yet we are given a glimpse into their focus on the events transpiring on earth. They are eager for God to execute his vengeance on sin and injustice. So eager, in fact, that their pleas form one voice. So while we rate worship services based on what we get out of them, the saints in heaven are in solidarity that God’s wrath against wickedness and rebellion (which includes turning a blind eye to injustice) is an agenda item worthy of their fervent prayers.

If we sense a dissonance between our prayers and those of the saints in heaven, maybe that’s because we haven’t quite grasped that “network of mutuality” that exists between this earth and the new earth that is to come. Are we blind to injustice around us? Have we hunkered down in bunkers of believers to keep the world out? What kind of witness are we presenting to a world that is aching for reconciliation between races when the church—God’s proclamatory outpost—is silent on these matters?

LINKING THE LUTHERS

Jesus Christ came as the ultimate prophet in order to deliver us from ignorance. In recent months God has taken me on a personal journey in which he has opened my eyes to the injustice and pain of those in minority cultures. Having new insight into a topic to which I was formerly ignorant has burdened my conscience to share insights with others in majority cultures. It has also revealed places in which I myself have sins of a racial nature. God is gracious to forgive the repentant sinner and unite those who were formally hostile.

It may be uncomfortable to embrace, but the prayer for the earth to reflect heaven means striving for a diverse church. Uncomfortable? Absolutely. But violent? Never! And that’s where I see a huge link between the two Luthers.

Martin Luther the reformer understood that the church was to be comprised of a repentant people; a people that shun the ways of the world and its pride. He was adamant that the Civil Rights movement should be a peaceful one. He winsomely cast a broad vision in which black children played in harmony with white children. He knew his Bible, that’s where the vision came from. He was martyred for his zeal in proclaiming the coming peaceful kingdom.

What does it look like for us white folk to follow Martin Luther in repentance realizing our hands are not free from sin and blood? What does it look like for us to follow Martin Luther King, Jr. in seeking an end to injustice everywhere?

It’s easy to build a church on a “homogenous unit principle.” But any foundation other than Christ is sinking sand. The world is capable of imitating and building similar structures because they don’t require the work of the Spirit. The church that reflects heaven is a safe place for people of all backgrounds to belong because the only thing they will have in common is Christ.

When we agree on that, it will drive us to our knees to pray, be humbled, and welcome in those that are unlike us—because in our brokenness we have a lot more in common than we might see with worldly eyes. I’m praying for a Church in the West that reflects heaven: united in the belief that God saves sinners from his wrath, but diverse enough for all who believe to belong regardless of class or color.

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^[1] The Greek word translated “strangers” is “xeno” the root of “xenophobia.”

Sean Nolan (B.S. and M.A., Clarks Summit University) was born and raised in Upstate New York where he is now returning to plant Engage Albany, a church in the heart of the capital. Prior to that, he served at churches in Troy and Maryland and taught hermeneutics. He and his wife, Hannah, are raising three kids: Knox, Hazel, and Ransom. You can read all of Sean’s articles here.

^[1] The Greek word translated “strangers” is “xeno” the root of “xenophobia.”

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.

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Taken from One Blood: Parting Words to the Church on Race by John Perkins with Karen Waddles (©2018). Published by Moody Publishers. Used by permission.

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.

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.

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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.

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.

1. 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.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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? 

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Taken from Teach Us to Pray by Gordon T. Smith. Copyright (c) 2018 by Gordon T. Smith Published by InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL. www.ivpress.com

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.

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.

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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.

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.

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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.