An Ancient Solution to Digital Weariness
My college diet was deplorable. Many days, I saw Taco Bell’s “Fourth meal” less as marketing lingo and more as a privilege. I cherished ramen, fast-food, and freezer pizzas for their convenience and ease (and of course, their taste). Though the food tasted good, it left me feeling . . . not so good. My fat-saturated diet was served up with a side of regret and left me feeling bloated and weary.
These days it’s a tech-saturated diet that has me feeling weary. But instead of gaining weight, I’m losing meaning.
My eyes are dry and strained from endless scrolling on a brightly back-lit screen. My hand aches from forming the claw necessary to hold my phone all day. My brain is exhausted from trying to survive the information tidal wave it wakes up to each day. And my heart is discouraged at the frustration and the futility in it all.
Paul contends, “our outer selves are wasting away” (2 Cor. 4:16), and our devices used in excess certainly do not help. We are, as Neil Postman suggests, “amusing ourselves to death.” Half of our problems with digital devices would go away if we’d simply use them in moderation. But sometimes a hard reset is also appropriate. This is where fasting comes in.
FASTING: AN ANCIENT SOLUTION TO A MODERN PROBLEM
Fasting is an ancient practice designed to free us from what we hold most dear. Fasting provides an opportunity to routinely and starkly remind ourselves of who we are and what truly nourishes us.
Resolved to break free from my tech-saturated world, I considered my strategy. I felt like I was standing at the bottom of a long staircase holding several very heavy bags. I could see the top of the staircase, where I was master over my devices, and I knew it would take more than a few big steps to get there.
So I decided to take on two different forms of fasting; two small steps towards developing a normal rhythm of tech-fasting. These steps are small, but the tech-dependent baggage I carry is heavy. And there’s nothing wrong with taking the stairs one at a time.
A CLEANSING FAST
My first form of fasting was a cleanse. I decided to spend an entire day cleansing my palette of all devices and screens. No phone, no computer, no television. Only the baby monitor was allowed.
Before I started, I thought to myself, It’s only going to be about eighteen hours without devices. It’s not a big deal. Right?
But when you’ve been tech-saturated for years, the itch to sneak a look at your screen is much more tempting to scratch than you might think. While I didn’t feel quite like an addict having withdrawals, there were a couple of moments where I questioned my approach.
What if I miss something—something important? Is this responsible for me to do, as a pastor to people? What if someone depends on me to answer them and my phone is off?
I came to realize these were weak arguments for breaking my fast. But it’s an argument many pastors can relate to. We feel the impulse to be as available for our people as a fully-staffed 24/7 hotline.
Availability is not a bad thing, in and of itself, but if we aren’t careful, we will convince ourselves that ministry hangs on our shoulders. That God is not quite so sovereign apart from our ability, that we are somehow less in need of rest than our flock.
Shepherds watch over and sacrifice for their sheep, to be sure. But they sleep, too. In fact, a shepherd can’t effectively protect and guide his sheep without rest.
PUTTING CLEANSES ON THE CALENDAR
I’ve resolved to begin the practice of being device- and screen-free for three regular time periods: one hour a day, one day a week, and one week a year. This kind of regular detox will remind me that the world can and will continue to turn without me. It will remind me that there is something far more worth my time than an infinite scroll of information.
After all, fasting is not just about doing without but replacing the emptiness with something we need. How could I regret replacing screen time with prayer, Bible study, and other spiritual disciplines? What if I devoted all that former screen time to face-to-face time with family or friends?
I’ve also resolved, thanks to the wisdom of Andy Crouch, to begin putting my phone to bed at night and waking it up in the morning. Too often my phone demands my late-night attention until I’m too tired to go on, and it’s there crying out for me the moment my alarm rings in the morning. But my phone is my pet, not the other way around. I need to take the leash back.
Disconnecting for one hour a day, one day a week, and one week a year may seem unattainable for you. It will probably be uncomfortable the first time you do it. But it will be a routine reminder that this world and God’s plans are much bigger than you or anyone else.
A SPEAKING FAST
My next fasting strategy had to do with talking less. Epictetus (and my mom) used to say we have two ears and one mouth, so we should listen twice as much as we speak. I decided to fast speaking, choosing to listen and observe instead. This kind of fasting doesn’t get nearly as much attention or exposure as the other, but it is arguably just as important for our souls.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve taken several-days-long periods away from saying anything on Facebook. Though still online, I have made it a point to stay silent. And silence is quite the teacher.
Every tweet, every blog post, every status update, every comment can be liked, shared, retweeted, affirmed, reacted to, analyzed, and engaged with. This means the whole of our online contribution is measured, evaluated, and scored by others. We know this. Yet we continue to justify the need to play the game.
Many of us in ministry see our online platform as a chance to share gospel truth with people in our sphere, but because of the inescapable metrics of social media, we also see it as a chance to be impressive. Do we wordsmith a theological statement and post it to the glory of God, or to the glory of self? Do we share a book quote because we want people to be sharpened by it, or because we want to be seen as the kind of person who reads that book?
If we’re not careful, we will mistake gospel proclamation for platform promotion. We will say with the migrants in Shinar, “let us make a name for ourselves” (Gen. 11:4).
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE’RE SILENT
What does it do to our soul when we log onto social media and find no notifications waiting on us…again? During my fasting from speaking, I found out.
First, it humbles us. It reminds us that the world doesn’t need our platform. We are dust (Gen. 3:19). It also reminds us that listening first helps us to speak wisely later, instead of being reactionary or presumptuous. It allows us to press into the right discussions at the right time, and helps us avoid getting caught in the “vain discussions” Paul warns against in 1 Timothy 1:6-7. Finally, fasting from digital speaking allows us to choose empathy without anything to gain from it (Phil. 2:3).
We need to empty ourselves of thinking the world needs our words, and more so, that God needs us. He doesn’t. His Word is sufficient. The fact that he speaks through us at all is a cosmic miracle. He does not need to use us, but he wants to use us. That’s what makes being a part of his mission so humbling and so shocking.
FAST FORWARD
“All things are full of weariness,” the Preacher reminds us in Ecclesiastes. Spend some time on social media, and you will agree. Each day is a deluge of debates and statuses and breaking news and sales pitches and memes and noise.
But Christ has the answer for our digital weariness: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). Fasting takes our gaze away from our blue-tinted screens and turns them toward the only Shepherd who never sleeps (Ps. 121:4).
We will never be fully in the know. We will never say everything. We will never satisfy our deepest longings. Fasting reminds us of all these truths. You may not start with an extended, long-term fast. But start somewhere—for the sake of your soul.
Don’t be afraid of the emptiness, for it is there that you will find the Way to be filled.
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.
Finding Hope in a Postapocalyptic World
Nothing is more hopeless than an apocalypse. Or so it might seem. In its original sense, apocalypse means revelation.” The word later came to be associated with an end-of-the-world cataclysmic event because of the link John’s Revelation in the Bible makes between revelation and the end of this world.1 In revealing our present condition, traditional, religious apocalyptic literature directs our future hope. But what about a secular apocalypse such as Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Road, which depicts a world devoid of religion and nearly all reference to God? Modern apocalyptic literature, which is largely secular apocalyptic literature, demonstrates the truth about the modern condition: we have replaced God with ourselves as the source of meaning and the center of the universe and it is not enough.
The Road is the simple, but harrowing, story of a father and son who are wayfarers in a postapocalyptic world bereft of nearly all life. Such a place seems unlikely to cultivate hope. But sometimes in circumstances that seem most hopeless, hope is by necessity strengthened.
QUIET CONFIDENCE
Hope is characterized by “quiet confidence,” a quality the man embodies throughout the story. When the novel opens, the two have already set out toward a warmer clime and the sea, not knowing what might lie before them there or anywhere else. They travel for months along burned-out highways, sleeping in woods or abandoned homes. They seem to be alone in the world. Yet, the man promises the boy, “There are people. There are people and we’ll find them. You’ll see.”
As in most postapocalyptic worlds, there are only “good guys” and “bad guys.” The man and the boy are among the good. The father reassures the boy of this as often as he warns him of the other.
“And nothing bad is going to happen to us.
Because we’re carrying the fire.
Yes. Because we’re carrying the fire.”
The man never tells the boy (nor does the narrator tell the reader) what “carrying the fire” means. The fire they are carrying is what makes them good guys. It entails hope. “This is what the good guys do,” the father tells the boy. “They keep trying. They don’t give up.”
HOPE REQUIRES RECKONING
Hope is not the same as oblivion or naiveté. Hope requires reckoning with the world as it is, with reality. The man does this. When the boy asks the man if crows still exist, the man tells him it’s unlikely. And when the boy realizes that they have narrowly escaped being cannibalized, his father does not deny this horrific truth Being reasonable is one of the man’s most prominent characteristics. He remains watchful all the time on the road.
Pursuing the great good allows—or perhaps requires—appreciation of the other goods along the way. Both magnanimity and humility assist this. For even in a postapocalyptic world, goodness can be found. These moments of goodness are what turn an otherwise horrifying story into a work of beauty and power. The story is filled with moments of goodness.
Paradoxically, the bleak world of The Road is an affirmation, even a celebration, of what is good, all the more marvelous in a world with so little good seemingly left in it.
Once, while the boy is sleeping, the man watches over him, reflecting, “All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one’s heart have a common provenance in pain. Their birth in grief and ashes. So, he whispered to the sleeping boy. I have you.”
Because transcendence requires what the story refers to as “revelation and faith,” the desire for transcendence is, whether recognized as such or not, ultimately the desire for God. Despite the absence in The Road of religious faith—and, seemingly, God—something of transcendence is omnipresent nevertheless.
Indeed, transcendence is the fuel, the fire itself, for the whole story and its entire journey.
THE FUEL FOR HOPE
The hope the man has had all along—his hope in the boy and in the “fire” they carry—points to something more than natural hope. The man’s hope allows him to succeed in the quest to reach the sea. By the time he and the boy arrive there, the world as it is has taken its toll on the man. Knowing his life will soon end, the man passes on his natural hope to the boy. “You need to go on, he said. I can’t go with you.” The man poignantly places his hopes for transcendence entirely in his son.
If we accept the central metaphor of the story—carrying the fire—then we see that, after the man’s death (but even before), the boy does carry it forward and, in so doing, extends in some way the man’s natural life. The boy’s sensitivity toward the transcendent is even stronger than the man’s. It is the boy who, in his innocence, seeks to help others that the man, in his greater experience, rejects out of fear. It is the boy who, when they stumble upon a great store of food in a safe bunker underground, insists upon giving thanks—somehow, to someone—before they eat.
Later, when they have reached their destination of the sea and they find a flare gun and the man explains its purpose to the boy—to show others where you are—the boy wonders if somebody “like God” might see it.
“Yeah,” his father answers. “Maybe somebody like that.”
Somebody like that does see the boy. After the father’s death, a family who has been watching them comes to the boy’s aid. They are a father, a mother, and two children. When the boy asks if they are “the good guys,” they assure him they are. And they are. They take him in. And sometimes the woman—the mother—talks to the boy about God.
Excerpt used by permission, Karen Swallow Prior, On Reading Well: Finding the Good Life Through Great Books, Brazos (a division of Baker Publishing Group), copyright: September 4, 2018.
Karen Swallow Prior (PhD, SUNY Buffalo) is an award-winning professor of English at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia. She is the author of Booked: Literature in the Soul of Me and Fierce Convictions: The Extraordinary Life of Hannah More--Poet, Reformer, Abolitionist. Prior has written for Christianity Today, the Atlantic, the Washington Post, First Things, Vox, Think Christian, and The Gospel Coalition. She is a research fellow with the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention, a senior fellow with Liberty University's Center for Apologetics and Cultural Engagement, a senior fellow with the Trinity Forum, and a member of the Faith Advisory Council of the Humane Society of the United States.
Shaking Free from the 'Shoulds'
I don’t know exactly where they come from—these negative, dictating thoughts. The uniform they wear reads “Should,” and they consider themselves experts on any and every nuanced area of my life. Sometimes our relationship feels like an awkward dance, in which I dread being their partner but can’t drum up the courage to exit the dance floor. I twirl stiffly from one "Should" to another, barely touching but getting close enough to see the pursed-lip disapproval on each face.
There are some who dominate the room. "Should-Be-A-Better-Mother" is perhaps the most formidable, along with "Should-Be-A-Better-Christian" and "Should-Be-More-Healthy."
Like a finger pointing in my face, my own thoughts attack even the most mundane decisions, and no matter which way I go, it feels like a misstep:
“You let your baby cry too long last night.”
“You didn’t let her cry long enough to self-soothe.”
“You should have gotten up before the kids, to read the Bible and pray."
“You better not be falling back into legalism with your ‘quiet time.’”
“That’s the sugary food you’re packing for your kids’ lunches?”
“Wow, they’re going to be disappointed when they see these boring vegetables.”
All these thoughts are swirling before I’ve even made my coffee in the morning.
STICKS AND STONES
Then I remember these words: Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.
Long ago, a woman was caught in adultery and brought before a crowd for judgment. I can imagine those pointing fingers, condemning voices, shaking fists, and murderous eyes. She faced the possibility of a gruesome, excruciating death for her transgression.
Stoning.
Being hit so forcefully and repeatedly with rocks that you experience internal bleeding, organ failure, and death. A word so archaic today that we miss the weight of it.
Right on the heels of a man using her body for his own pleasure, she was now being used by the religious leaders of the day as they sought to trap Jesus. They saw him as a threat to be neutralized.
The Pharisees wielded power over the people, the malignant mass of their manipulation being fed by twisting God’s word and greasing the palms of the politically elite. This man, who claimed to be the Word made flesh, and his message of repentance and faith in the Kingdom of God burned their evil pride like heavenly radiation. But they had him now!
How would he respond? He must either betray the Mosaic law, given by the God from whom he claimed to descend, or depart from his ministry of healing and loving to engage in violence, which they could report back to the Roman rulers.
But instead, the soon-to-be-striped back they thought they’d pushed against the wall stooped to touch the very dirt he created before time began. He stood up and the tension was palpable, as everyone awaited his words.
Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.
Shaking Free From The 'Shoulds'
I wonder how long the silence hung there, as every mind within earshot tried to process the cosmic shift they had just witnessed. Did they realize that this man writing in the dirt, so clearly not interested in throwing stones, was the only sinless one among them?
I wonder what it felt like for the woman to watch her accusers, her abusers, walk away one by one. Death was no longer imminent, but I wonder how long she was able to savor that reprieve before the shame and the "Shoulds" swooped in. But her pardon was before her in bodily form.
What it must have felt like to look into Jesus’s eyes! Perhaps for the first time in her life, a man’s gaze rested on her, free of selfish motives and quick assessments of what she could offer him.
She was face to face with her Creator and the lover of her soul, the same man who would soon die to remove her shame forever and offer her his pure, white robes of righteousness.
“Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you,” he said.
“No one, Lord.”
“Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:3-11).
Oh, that we’d be taught what to do when the words come from within when we look down and see the stone in our own hand! That we’d be taught to repeat this refrain over and over again: There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death (Rom. 8:1-2).
The same freedom offered to that woman thousands of years ago is offered to us today!
If we believe by faith that Jesus was God made flesh and that he accomplished what the Bible said he did—lived sinless, died in our place, absorbed the full wrath of God toward sin, defeated death by resurrecting after three days, and ascended to the right hand of the Father, reigning today as our faithful advocate—then we are free!
LEAD ON, LORD JESUS
Free from condemnation, free from stones hurled from the mouth of the liar. Free to face the stones in our own hand and speak the gospel truth to ourselves.
I am not who you say I am. I am who Jesus says I am.
I do not have to please you. I was created by Jesus, to glorify him and enjoy him forever.
I do not have to fear your judgment. Jesus faced the only truly fearful judgment, that of the Holy Father, and he passed the test.
I do not have to perform to meet your arbitrary standards. I am judged by Christ’s perfect performance, and his righteousness covers me.
His Spirit, by his abundant grace, shifts my perspective and removes the fear from my heart, like stones dropping from open hands. Those “Shoulds” thoughts lose their power. Their shaking heads and rolling eyes fade completely out of sight, as Jesus extends his nail-scarred hand to me.
Why do I contort my life to please such horrible partners, when the light of the world offers to lead me in the greatest, most joyful dance imaginable?
By his grace alone I turn my back on all those "Shoulds" and take his hand.
Lead on, Lord Jesus.
Myra Dempsey and her husband, Andrew, live in Newark, Ohio, with their four children. Myra is a stay at home mom, loves to write, and ministers in their local church teaching women's Bible studies and leading groups on gospel-centered sexuality. She blogs at dependentongrace.com and can be found on Twitter @MyraJoy and Instagram @myrajoy1019.
The Big God Behind Your 'Small' Ministry
It was a big day in Jerusalem. The temple built by Solomon, but destroyed by the Babylonians, was being rebuilt. It was a day of great celebration for the Israelites. The Jews had suffered for decades because of their disobedience (see 1 Kings 9:6-9). They endured exile and captivity, besiegement and destruction. However, Ezra tells the story of a new day, when the people gathered together to celebrate the laying of the foundation on the second temple.
They celebrated the Lord’s mercy with trumpets and cymbals. They sang and thanked him. They shouted with great shouts to praise his name.
Though many shouted for joy, there were others who “wept with a loud voice” (Ezra 3:12). They wept because they were disappointed. These older saints wept because they remembered the former splendor of the first temple, and the meager foundation of the second was underwhelming.
WHEN YOUR DAYS SEEM SMALL
Haven’t we all been underwhelmed by the work of our own hands at some point? We have a vision of what our ministry or family or career should look like that is so much grander than the current view.
On this day when people were disappointed with the lack of splendor, the prophet, Zechariah said, “Whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice” (Zech. 4:10).
Most of us will spend our whole lives living in days of small things. How do we navigate this space between what we see and what we want to see? How can we cultivate hearts that don’t despise these days, but rejoice in them?
Consider the following ways to be encouraged when you’re unimpressed with what God has entrusted to you.
See the Tree In the Seed
We’re attracted to the spectacular. Our eyes are drawn to all things bigger, brighter, and better, so we limit our scope of success to these ideals.
When we do, we overlook the significance of small things. The thing is, small is valuable when God defines the terms.
When Jesus spoke to a crowd that needed food, he didn’t despise Andrew’s suggestion of a boy’s lunch of five loaves and two fish (John 6:9). He used something small to glorify himself in a big way.
God is not disappointed by small. He uses the small things to accomplish his purposes.
Do you feel what you have to work with is small? Listen to Jesus: “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches” (Matt. 13:31-32).
In God’s economy, the tiniest seed becomes a tree. The smallest of things becomes significant because of its role in the kingdom. The final product is not determined by its beginning.
Richard Sibbes writes in The Bruised Reed, “See a flame in a spark, a tree in a seed. See great things in little beginnings.” God’s grand plan for our redemption began with a fragile newborn in a manger.
Do we see great things in little beginnings?
Find the Glory in the Mundane
We have great expectations, especially when it comes to our place in the world. It’s no surprise, then, that changing diapers and mowing the lawn and paying the taxes all just seems so . . . boring.
But we must strive to see God’s work like he does. We must value what he values.
We want to be sensational; God wants us to be faithful. The desire to have maximum impact in our culture is not a bad one. But devaluing ministry that has a smaller reach contradicts God’s values.
Consider Eunice and Lois (2 Timothy 1:5), the mother and grandmother of Timothy, apprentice to Paul and early church leader. These two women are not known for wowing crowds and signing books. We know them because they poured into a young Timothy. By worldly standards, their ministry was small. But we have the benefit of seeing the great value of their investment in one person.
We value productivity but are often underwhelmed with progress; God values productivity and progress. God’s salvific work in our lives is a miracle, and we should praise him for it. God’s sanctifying work of transforming us into his perfect image happens by degrees (see 2 Cor. 3:18) but is no less miraculous. Sanctification is often small, mundane, and untweetable. Nevertheless, it is a miracle, and we should praise the Lord for it.
What about you? Are you disappointed at the footprint of your kingdom work? Are you envious of someone else who seems to have more influence than you do? Remember, any impact you have on the advancement of his kingdom is a work of grace. Praise him for his work in big and small things.
Trust God in the Tension
The celebrity culture we’ve created adds to the pressure not only to succeed, but to succeed publicly and grandly. We have no tolerance for the unimpressive. We’ve given others the power to validate our success, but that validation was never ours to give away.
In the tension between our vision and our reality, we must trust God to accomplish all that he desires for his glory. We trust him to make his name great in our smallness.
The gap between our vision and our reality is not to be despised. God doesn’t look at small things disapprovingly. On a day when the rich were making it rain in the temple offering box, a poor widow gave two copper coins. Jesus told his disciples that she gave more than all the rich people gave that day, because she gave all she had to live on (Luke 21:1-3).
What seems humbling, meager, and unimpressive to us may look glorious to God. Oh, to see what he sees! We can’t judge his work by our standards. When the people were unimpressed with the splendor of the temple, Haggai encouraged them by telling them to be strong and to work, for God was with them (Hag. 2:4).
Underwhelmed saint, heed Haggai’s words and keep striving in your kingdom labors, for God is with you. Desire to be faithful, not sensational.
WHEN GOD HAS HIS SAY
“Perhaps you are frustrated by the gap that still remains between your vision and your accomplishment,” Os Guinness writes in The Call. “You have had your say. Others may have had their say. But make no judgments and draw no conclusions until the scaffolding of history is stripped away and you see what it means for God to have had his say.”
God will have the final say. And it will sound like this: “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”
As we long for this day, let’s rejoice in the day of small things.
Christy Britton is a wife and homeschool mom of four biological sons. She is an orphan advocate for 127 Worldwide. She and her husband are covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, NC. She loves reading, discipleship, Cajun food, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for several blogs, including her own, www.beneedywell.com.
Missing the Spirit for His Gifts
The Holy Spirit. Three words couldn’t divide the church more. I suppose “I hate you” is up there, but that’s more of a division between people rather than churches.
Entire swaths of Christianity have divided over the third person of the Trinity. This division, over the place of the Spirit in the Trinity, left the Eastern Church (Orthodox) on one side and the Western Church (Roman) on the other, which, among other factors, eventually led to what was called the Great Schism.
DOCTRINE DIVIDES
Doctrine does divide. Attempting to forge unity, I’ve heard some people say, “Doctrine doesn’t matter.” Typically, they mean if we would all lay down our doctrines and just focus on Jesus, we would all get along.
But that assertion is also doctrinal. It’s saying to everyone else, if you lay down what you hold dear, and believe in the Jesus-only doctrine I consider precious, then we can all get along. This approach is well meaning but exclusivist, privileging its own view. It also leaves out the Father and the Spirit. We need to dig deeper. Why does doctrine over the Holy Spirit divide?
The fault line of division over the Spirit today is quite different from that of the early Church. The “great schism” affecting most of the modern church is over the gifts rather than the person of the Spirit. The division falls rather neatly along just a few of the Spirit’s more effusive gifts, things like speaking in tongues, prophecy, healings, and miracles.
TAKING SIDES
To simplify it for the moment, there are charismatics who treasure and practice these gifts, and cessationists who adamantly insist most of these gifts are no longer in effect. The groups shore up, take sides, and accuse one another of wary extremes. Some remain in the middle, self-described “open-but cautious.” Entire denominations, seminaries, and churches divide over their views of these gifts of the Spirit.
Wherever you fall in this debate, I think there’s a deeper issue at stake. It’s interesting that we don’t divide over spiritual gifts like service and mercy. We don’t part company over whether mercy is still in effect or if service is still valid. And there aren’t too many divisions over faith, hope, and love, what Paul called “the higher gifts” (1 Cor 12:31). Everyone believes in those.
Maybe, just maybe, we’re fighting over the wrong gifts. Certainly, there are things worth debating. Paul opposed Peter for his gospel-compromising racism. But what is the greater issue at stake here?
MISSING THE SPIRIT FOR HIS GIFTS
Quibbling over a few of the Spirit’s choice gifts, we’ve missed the most important gift of all—the Holy Spirit himself.
Pigeonholing the Spirit based on a few of his gifts is like sizing someone up after a single conversation. I’m not a big Quentin Tarantino fan. His films are too violent for me. I’ve seen clips here and there, and at the behest of several friends I did watch Inglorious Basterds. I’ll admit the initial interrogation scene is riveting, but I still find the flippant ultraviolence deplorable. So my initial impression of Tarantino was not positive, but that was before I met him in person.
One afternoon as my wife and I were waiting to be seated in a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant, I glanced over the hostess’s shoulder. Recognizing a guy sitting by himself in the bar, my wife turned to me and said, “Honey, I think we were in college ministry with that guy.” I smirked and said, “Honey, that’s Quentin Tarantino.” Lunch was dominated by debate over whether we would introduce ourselves to Tarantino after we were done. My wife won the debate, so we walked over to say hi.
To my surprise, Tarantino was quite affable. He asked our names. My wife made a quip about having a guy’s name, and when Tarantino heard her name is Robie, he leaned in. He asked how she got the name. As Robie told the story, Tarantino tracked the plot, asked questions, and laughed along the way with two complete strangers. After a bit more chit-chat, he invited us to stay for a drink. We gratefully declined, but I walked away shocked by how kind and inviting he was. Based on his filmography, I figured he’d be a total jerk. If I’d stuck with my initial impression of Tarantino, I would have been wildly wrong.
GETTING TO KNOW THE SPIRIT
Sizing the Holy Spirit up based on a few of his gifts is a big mistake. If we relate to the Spirit primarily regarding miraculous gifts, and whether they are operative today, we distort and limit our understanding of the third person of the Trinity. He should be known for much more.
Who is the Spirit? Is he a person or a spiritual force? How are we meant to relate to him? Can we pray to the Spirit? Can we worship the Spirit? What is his role in creation? Is he present in culture? What will he do in the future? And what does being filled with the Spirit look like after all?
These are some of the questions I address in Here in Spirit. Instead of relating narrowly to the Holy Spirit, I’d like to broaden our engagement with him by touring aspects of his vast character that are often unexplored. In focusing more on who the Spirit is, we may find ourselves less divided.
Taken from Here in Spirit by Jonathan K. Dodson. Copyright (c) 2018. Published by InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL. www.ivpress.com.
Jonathan K. Dodson (MDiv, ThM) is the founding pastor of City Life Church in Austin, Texas, which he started with his wife, Robie, and a small group of people. He has three great children and is also the founder of Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He is also the author of Here in Spirit: Knowing the Spirit who Creates, Sustains, and Transforms Everything; Gospel-Centered Discipleship, The Unbelievable Gospel: Say Something Worth Believing. He enjoys listening to M. Ward, smoking his pipe, watching sci-fi, and going for walks. You can find more at jonathandodson.org.
How to Put Out a Dumpster Fire
A dumpster fire is like porn: it’s hard to define but you know it when you see it. Fortunately, Merriam-Webster is here to help. Its lexicographers added the term to the dictionary this year, calling it “an utterly calamitous or mismanaged situation or occurrence,” or simply a “disaster.” Depending on who you follow on Twitter, you may not have needed a definition.
Dumpster fires spread like wildfire through social networks. Whether it’s your beloved sports team’s abysmal season, another campaign nightmare, or a public official’s latest gaffe, you’ve surely witnessed a dumpster fire burning across your social media feeds. This is true even of “Christian Twitter,” where it’s not uncommon to see prominent figures sparring over a blog post or deleted tweet.
If Christians want to present a winsome gospel in this cultural moment (and I hope we do), we can’t get bogged down in the dumpster fires of the day. We have to find another way to engage the public square and bring the love of Christ to our neighbors. Fortunately, the book of Proverbs is full of countercultural wisdom for putting out dumpster fires.
Stop Heaping Trash
Fires need fuel to burn, and all too often, we’re happy to provide the fuel. Everyone’s first reaction to hearing about a dumpster fire is to add their take. Our negative reactions and hot-takes might seem clever, but all they’re doing is heaping trash on an already flaming dumpster.
The only way out of a world of dumpster fires is to stop fueling them. Proverbs 26:20 says, “For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, quarreling ceases.” No wood, no fire. No whispers, no quarrels. Sounds easy enough. But is it?
John Stonestreet, when asked about the negative tone of public discourse in a recent Q&A, said, “Our ability to not escalate our emotions even when our opponents are is going to be the only way we can really obey Jesus in a cultural moment where our views have gone from being considered wrong or outdated to being considered wrong and evil” (emphasis mine).
Our ability not to engage in the day's outrage even when others are is crucial to following Jesus in our moment. If Christians choose not to add opinions and retweets to arguments that are clearly going nowhere, the quarreling would cease, at least in our spheres of influence. But as it is now, we are too often drawn into dumpster fires and come out looking just as foolish as everyone else.
Proverbs 26:4 tells us, “Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself.” The more we answer a fool (especially online), the more foolish we become, and the more foolish we make the church look.
The best way to extinguish a dumpster fire is to stop feeding it. After all, “If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet” (Prov. 29:9). It’s only in the quiet that we can learn to read the signs of the times. It might feel good at the moment to vent your anger, but as millions of deleted tweets can testify, you’ll regret broadcasting those unguarded thoughts soon enough.
The reality is, the more we talk or type, the more we sin. There’s wisdom in keeping quiet at the right times. “A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back” (Prov. 29:11). Stop heaping trash on dumpster fires. Quietly hold back whatever you feel compelled to say. Wait 24 hours and ask yourself if it’s still worth it.
Be Slow to Anger
It would be great if we learned to stop stoking dumpster fires, but the real issue is in our quick-to-anger hearts. James writes, “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). The calamity of a situation dubbed a dumpster fire beckons us to be quick to anger, quick to speak, and slow to listen—the opposite of James’ command.
Our refusal to heed the Holy Spirit’s instruction in James puts our folly on display. Proverbs 14:29 says, “Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly.” Only a fool jumps into a heap of burning refuse.
But when we control our emotions and exercise self-control, we demonstrate good sense. “Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense” (Prov. 19:11). Those who are slow to anger guard themselves from saying something they’ll regret, and, for Christians, they guard the witness and integrity of the church they represent.
Believer, be slow to anger. Not only does this reflect the character of God (see Ex. 34:6), but it makes good sense. What a witness it would be to have churches filled with men and women who gave measured responses and weren’t driven and tossed by the cultural winds.
But there are times when an answer is called for.
Give a Soft Answer
There are times when a response to a dumpster fire is necessary, times where conscience or faith compels a reply. In these times, believers can dampen dumpster fires with a gracious word. Proverbs 15:1 counsels, “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”
Our words can bring peace or pain. This was highlighted by a recent Washington Post article on Kristen Waggoner, the public face of Alliance Defending Freedom, the nonprofit behind high-profile religious liberty cases like Masterpiece Cakeshop. The author doesn’t appear to share Waggoner’s views, but she can’t help but be taken by Waggoner’s joy:
“Waggoner answers all questions about her work, even on the most contentious of issues, with a smile. Her colleagues say she is always, always smiling. Her incessant pleasantness can come off as strategic, a way of dismantling those trying to paint her as cruel or intolerant. She says joy is just the mark of a person of faith.”
Wouldn’t it be great if more Christians—if you—were marked by “incessant pleasantness” instead of backbiting and infighting?
Standing Out in a World Gone Mad
In a world gone mad, Christians have an opportunity to stand out in a good way. Instead of adding fuel to the dumpster fires around us, we can douse the flames with the wisdom of Christ.
There will never be a shortage of calamities and mismanaged situations. But if we stop heaping trash on dumpster fires, start being slow to anger, and learn to give a soft answer, we can put the grace of Jesus on display and show the world that there’s a better way to have a conversation.
10 Ways Phones Can be Used for Our Good and God's Glory
Am I the only who feels this way? I wondered for the umpteenth time. I was in the midst of a conversation with friends lamenting their iPhones. The complaints were familiar: our smartphones make us more self-focused, short-tempered, less able to interact with real people, eager for the approval of others, unable to read and communicate in-depth. The woes are limitless.
And I don’t disagree. I too have given over too much power to my phone. It has shaped me in a number of ways I’m not proud of.
But my secret thought in that conversation and others like it is this: I like my phone. I think it’s more helpful than hurtful—even (maybe especially) in my spiritual disciplines. Am I a fool to say I think it has actually aided gospel growth in my life?
In our effort to distance ourselves from the pitfalls of these devices, are we missing what a blessing they can be?
BRAND NEW TECHNOLOGY, SAME OLD PROBLEM
Throughout history, people have sounded the alarm every time some new technology hits the scene:
Socrates worried writing would cause our minds to grow lazy;
There were cries of information overload and chaos when the printing press was invented;
The distribution of newspapers caused concern that people would no longer get their news directly from the pulpit;
Worried parents thought that teaching reading in schools would certainly wreak havoc on the minds of their children;
Later generations worried the advent of radio and television would wreak havoc on their children’s ability to read.[1]
Today, you can’t go on the Internet without seeing headlines bemoaning the connectivity and technology of this age, too. Those concerns are valid. Certainly, we should not consume new technology without carefully examining the ramifications.
Paul’s warning to the Ephesians is useful for us: “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil” (Eph. 5:15-16).
THE CAPACITY FOR GOOD AND EVIL
Just as the printing press can print the Word of God or pornography, our phones can deliver good or evil. With the Holy Spirit’s help and the accountability of a Christian community (and perhaps the implementation of some digital boundaries), we can choose to use our phones for our edification and sanctification, rather than for our destruction.
Our phones can be put to work to help us to obey this command in our current age: “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Phil. 4:8).
They can help us find wisdom and gain understanding, which is a blessing (Prov. 3:13). They can help us “do good to one another and to everyone” (1 Thess. 5:15).
10 WAYS PHONES CAN BE USED FOR OUR GOOD AND GOD’S GLORY
The following are ten ways smartphones can be tools for our good and even God’s glory.
1. Hearing the Bible. Perhaps the most important way our phones can help sanctify us is by providing the Word of God through various Bible apps. While paper Bibles should not be replaced, Bible apps can provide customized daily reading plans, nourishment in a pinch, and add oomph to our quiet times. As I make my way through my Bible-in-a-Year plan, my app audibly reads along with me. In this way, not only am I reading the Word of God in my physical Bible, but I’m also hearing it as I go. This is especially helpful to me in the early morning when my mind is prone to wander.
2. Memorizing Scripture with voice memos. Storing God’s Word in our hearts (Ps. 119:11) is a sweet tool for sanctification. Using a voice memo app can greatly enhance Scripture memory. Reciting memorized portions into our phones allows us to immediately check our work against the written Word. The immediate feedback is excellent for catching mistakes and ensuring we rightly memorize Scripture.
3. Reading more books. Various apps allow us broad access to more books than in any other age. It’s normal today to travel frequently and commute long distances. That potentially wasted time can be redeemed as we listen to or read books we could not access prior to our smartphones. I am deeply indebted to Christian authors whose words have shaped me and library apps that have made wide reading affordable.
4. Growing through Christian blogs and websites. Smartphones allow us to access Christian blogs (like this one) and websites every day. Having the Internet in the palm of our hands allows us to wrestle with even deep theological issues at a moment’s notice. Whereas we would have needed to make a trip to a seminary library in the past, we can now immediately peruse a variety of sites and articles to help us gain commentary on a given Bible passage, theme, or difficulty.
5. Listening to a wide range of teachers and preachers. Many disciples find podcasts and sermons invaluable for growth and learning. Podcast topics vary widely from hearing news from a Biblical worldview to theological discussions, encouragement for moms to the history of racial issues in the church, and wisdom for Christian living. Access to a wide range of preachers and teachers from multiple theological backgrounds helps us keep growing both inside and outside our typical doctrinal bubbles.
6. Connecting with friends and family. Depending on one’s life stage or calling, texting can be a lifeline for Christian fellowship. Missionaries serving overseas, pastors or their wives reaching out to friends in their shoes in another city, or even new moms who need encouragement but don’t have time to meet or call a friend, can all benefit from receiving and sending encouraging texts. In our global, busy lifestyles, texting allows us to type out our prayers for one another. It can be a sweet and intimate way to keep in touch and build one another up.
7. Remembering names, prayer needs, and important dates. Phones can be a practical assistant, helping us practice hospitality on Sundays when we gather for corporate worship. We can immediately record the name of a newcomer to church right after we shake their hands. We can refresh our memories the following Sunday and greet them by name, making a warm and inviting impact. We can have our phones handy to record someone’s prayer request so we don’t forget it as soon as they walk away. Additionally, alarms can be set on our calendar apps to help us remember to pray for a surgery, an important test, or other need in our community.
8. Accessing special groups. While it’s no substitute for face-to-face friendship, Facebook can provide access to specific groups and ministries around the world. I’ve been able to connect with other adoptive parents, missionaries, ex-pats, and Christian women wherever I have lived around the world. These special niche relationships haven’t been available near me at certain times, and the online alternatives have been a source of strength and encouragement. Additionally, we can keep up with missionaries in various contexts through their secret online groups, which provide updates and prayer needs.
9. Understanding your community. Social media apps allow us to know what others in our communities are drawn to or hoping for. Based on others’ posts and what they’re chatting about, we can keep a finger on the pulse of what matters to those who attend our church, Bible study, or neighborhood fellowship. In this way, we can be better prepared for false teaching or false gospels when they arise, or fads that aren’t biblical. Social media allows us to be prepared in advance and contribute a gospel-centered voice to a conversation that might otherwise lack it.
10. Building one another up. Group texts are the way young adults communicate. Rarely do people call one another or use email. Texts are the best way to stay abreast of what is happening in the lives of our community members. Texts can be an excellent way to share joys and sorrows and prayer needs. They’re also a great way to coordinate group meetings, meals for people in need, and more. It’s nearly impossible to stay involved in relationships today without texting.
There is indeed a way to use our phones that will help us “walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col. 1:10).
Smartphones can be a powerful tool for our growth. Let’s consider how we might put them to work for our good and God’s glory.
[1] I am indebted to this article for this historical information. http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/science/2010/02/dont_touch_that_dial.html
Jen Oshman is a wife and mom to four daughters, and has served as a missionary for nearly two decades. She and her husband serve with Pioneers International and planted Redemption Parker, an Acts 29 church. Her passion is leading women into a deeper faith and fostering a biblical worldview. Her book, Enough About Me: Find Lasting Joy in the Age of Self, is forthcoming with Crossway in 2020. Read more of Jen’s writing on her website or follow her on Twitter.
Discontent: Comparing What Is to What Could Have Been
Sometimes I surprise myself with how surprised I am that things aren’t always what I want them to be. Not long ago, I realized I’d been griping a lot to my friends about how much it was costing me to heat my home in the winter months. I’m one of the only people in the history of the world to have central heat and air. It’s available to me at the push of a button anytime I get cold. But I don’t celebrate the fact that I can walk barefoot in subfreezing temperatures. I’m much more likely to complain about my bill doubling a couple of times a year.
It isn’t just a problem with my heat bill. My life is full of good things that aren’t perfect. That means it’s full of opportunities to prioritize the positive or the negative side of what I’m facing. I have three beautiful, healthy children who are sometimes unruly and always exhausting. I have a job I love that is often more difficult or time-consuming than I want it to be. I’m sure you have examples of your own you could add to my list.
GREAT EXPECTATIONS
This tendency to notice what’s wrong more than what’s right is a symptom of a deeper problem. It’s a sign that, at least subconsciously, we’re surprised that the world doesn’t fit the pattern we’ve designed for it. It may be we’ve established a baseline expectation of comfort, convenience, or control that has no place in a world where the outer things are passing away.
In the modern West, our baseline expectation for what life should be is set higher than at any other time or place. But this new expectation has come with a high cost we may not notice as clearly as we should.
In The Paradox of Choice, Barry Schwartz argues that our “culture of abundance” actually feeds our dissatisfaction with what we have.5 Every day we’re confronted with an overwhelming number of choices about how to structure our lives. But with all these options it’s tough not to imagine what could have been better if we’d made another choice—especially when we recognize the limitations of what we did choose for ourselves. We’re crippled and preoccupied by all the what-ifs.
Schwartz also highlights another unintended consequence of all this choice, one that’s even more to my point. Our vast array of choices feeds a sense that life ought to be fully customizable, seasoned perfectly to my tastes. My expectations about how satisfying my choices should be rise far beyond what’s truly possible. There’s no chance I’m not going to be let down.
Here’s how Schwartz put it in the TED Talk version of his argument:
Adding options to people’s lives can’t help but increase the expectations people have about how good those options will be. And what that’s going to produce is less satisfaction with results, even when they’re good results. . . . The reason that everything was better back when everything was worse is that when everything was worse, it was actually possible for people to have experiences that were a pleasant surprise. Nowadays, the world we live in—we affluent, industrialized citizens, with perfection the expectation— the best you can ever hope for is that stuff is as good as you expect it to be. You will never be pleasantly surprised because your expectations, my expectations, have gone through the roof.6
SETTING REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS
I don’t doubt that contentment has always been a struggle no matter when you’ve lived or where. But in the modern West we do face some unique and easily ignored obstacles to joy in the good things our lives afford us. Schwartz argues that as our quality of life has improved in so many ways, our baseline expectation has settled somewhere in the neighborhood of perfection. Best-case scenario, we get what we believe is normal, even owed to us. More likely, we feel disappointed.
Schwartz’s antidote to this modern disease is interesting. “The secret to happiness,” he concludes, “is low expectations.” It makes sense, doesn’t it? Lower your standard for how enjoyable or satisfying life should be, and you’ll be more satisfied with what life is. I believe there is a lot of wisdom in what Schwartz is saying, both about what feeds our discontent and also what it will take to move forward. We need a new baseline expectation for life in the world as it is.
But how do we find our way to more realistic expectations? Here is where I would add one further argument: the path to realistic expectations about life moves through honesty about death. Our detachment from death has carved out the space for our expectations to run wild. The forgotten truth is that even if I could structure every part of my life today exactly the way I want, I can’t stop death from stealing everything I have. I may face a range of choices about life that previous generations couldn’t imagine. But I cannot choose to be immortal. This limitation casts a shadow over every area of my life.
Our perpetual discontent is a sign that, as Augustine put it, we “seek the happy life in the region of death.”8 I don’t stop experiencing the effects of mortality just because I refuse to acknowledge its grip. It’s just that I’ll be surprised by those effects again and again. I’ll continue to believe life is as fully customizable as our consumer society has promised me. I’ll continue to be surprised when it’s not. And at some point I won’t just be surprised by the uncontrollable brokenness of the world; I’ll be devastated. If I complain about the cost of my heating bill in winter, what will I do with job loss, or type 1 diabetes, or the cancer diagnosis of a child?
So long as our expectations for a tailor-made world go unchecked, we will eventually be blindsided by suffering. And when we are blindsided, we will be tempted to reject the goodness of God that is the only source of true comfort.
Here’s what I mean: if my baseline expectation of the world is comfort, convenience, and control—if this is what I assume I’m owed from life—then when I suffer, I will likely blame God. In my frustration or disappointment or pain I may see a sign of his displeasure. Or maybe a sign of his neglect. But one way or another I’ll see my suffering as abnormal, and therefore a sign of God’s absence from my life. I won’t recognize that, in fact, the brokenness I’m experiencing is not a sign of his absence but a primary reason for his presence in Christ.
REMEMBERING DEATH, FINDING LIFE
We sometimes judge the plausibility of God’s promises to us in light of what we’re experiencing now. We are tempted to believe that if God is allowing us to suffer as we are, we can’t trust him to deliver on his promise of redemption, resurrection, and an eternal life of joy with him. We can view his promises as an upgrade to an already-comfortable life, icing on the cake of the pleasant ease that is our baseline expectation. But this is not how his promises come to us in Scripture, and viewed like this his promises will never make sense. If his promises are no more to us than icing on the cake of good lives now, then those promises will always seem irrelevant and otherworldly when we suffer.
But when we recognize death’s hold on us and everything we love, we won’t be surprised that life isn’t what we want it to be. Frustration, disappointment, dissatisfaction—these belong among the many faces of death, the pockets of darkness that make up death’s shadow. These experiences are normal, not surprising. Death-awareness resets my baseline expectation about life in the world.
This honesty about death then prepares me for what is truly surprising: that God the Son subjected himself to the limitations, brokenness, and death that are normal for us. That he would join me in my experience of the normal trials of life in the valley of the shadow of death. That he would do this precisely so that he can revolutionize what is normal.
The brokenness I experience—the frustration, disappointment, dissatisfaction, pain—is not a sign of God’s absence. It is the reason for his presence in Christ. This is why the Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). He came because he knows we’re thirsty for more than what we’ve tasted so far (John 4:13–14). He knows that every meal has left us hungry. He came to provide living water, bread of life, full and free satisfaction for all who eat and drink from him (John 6:26–35).
When our eyes are fixed on the weight of this glory, we can experience dissatisfaction or disappointment without discontent. We can embrace what God has given us without preoccupation by what he hasn’t given. There’s nothing we can’t enjoy fully no matter how limited. And there’s nothing we can’t do without, no matter how sweet.
Content taken from Remember Death: The Surprising Path to Living Hope by Matthew McCullough, 2018. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.
Matthew McCullough (PhD, Vanderbilt University) serves as pastor of Trinity Church in Nashville, Tennessee, which he helped plant. He is the author of Remember Death: The Surprising Path to Living Hope and writes occasionally for 9Marks and the Gospel Coalition.
Pastor, Here's How to Be Built to Last
Pastors are not quitters. Or at least, they don’t plan to be.
Yet about 250 pastors leave their pulpits a month. Most pastors don’t plan on quitting, but they also don’t plan not to.
Unless pastors are built to last, they might find themselves burned out and beleaguered long before they planned on stepping down.
THREE PICTURES OF PASTORAL ENDURANCE
An aging and soon-to-be executed Apostle Paul once wrote to Timothy, his young protégé, to paint a picture of a pastor that’s built to last:
Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him. An athlete is not crowned unless he competes according to the rules. It is the hard-working farmer who ought to have the first share of the crops. — 2 Tim. 2:3-6
Paul challenges the young pastor to endure for the sake of the gospel. Paul knew that Timothy was going to face great resistance to much of what he had been commissioned to do. He knew Timothy would suffer for proclaiming his faith and telling people that Jesus was the only way to heaven.
So Paul gives Timothy three illustrations to help flesh out the kind of endurance he’s talking about. Paul paints pastors using the analogies of the dedicated soldier, the disciplined athlete, and the hardworking farmer. Each of these illustrations tells us something about what it takes to be the kind of pastor that’s built to last.
A DEDICATED SOLDIER
In the first example of the dedicated soldier, Paul tells us that pastors are not simply participants in a religion, but soldiers in a battle. In his letter to the Ephesian church, Paul wrote, “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12).
To be a Christ-follower—and even more so a pastor—we must realize that we are engaged in a spiritual battle against very real forces with very real consequences. Realizing the nature of the battles we’re in forces us to focus on what matters most. This is what Paul means when he says, “No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him” (2 Tim. 2:4).
“We confuse doing good things for doing God things.”
Imagine being in one of those hellish foxholes during World War 1 that you’ve probably seen depicted in a movie. If you found yourself in that environment, you wouldn’t be wondering what’s for dinner that night; you wouldn’t be browsing Amazon for a new pair of shoes. No, all that would matter is winning the battle.
Too often we get distracted from what matters most. We confuse doing good things for doing God things.
Pastor, are you distracted from the mission? Do you think more about what you’ll eat, wear, or do than how you can live for Jesus and his church? Do you ever ask God what he thinks about major decisions like where you’ll live or work? Do you have so many activities scheduled that you can’t make time for serving the poor or investing in someone’s life?
If you want to finish well, remember that your aim is to please your Father.
A DISCIPLINED ATHLETE
Paul’s second illustration is a disciplined athlete. He said, “An athlete is not crowned unless he competes according to the rules.” We all know that, don’t we?
A golfer can’t move their ball wherever he or she wants and still win a tournament. Runners win by staying on the track.
If you want to win as an athlete, you have to play according to the rules. To do that takes discipline—and lots of it.
Michael Phelps didn’t win his gold medals by swimming a couple times a week. He trained for years and years, multiple times a day, to be the athlete he became. That takes an enormous amount of discipline.
And that’s Paul’s lesson for us here. If we’re going to become pastors who are built to last, we have to become people of discipline. We have to become disciplined to grow in godliness. As Paul told Timothy in his first letter (1 Tim. 4:7), we must train for godliness.
If you were to write out everything you do in a normal week to grow in godliness, would it reflect someone who is serious about following Jesus? This isn’t about a certain number of events that makes you become more like Jesus—that’s not how it works.
“Most of us are distracted from doing the things of God because we haven’t disciplined ourselves to do them.”
But at the same time, our schedule really does reflect our values and beliefs. Our schedule reveals what we think is most important.
Most of us are distracted from doing the things of God because we haven’t disciplined ourselves to do them. We miss reading the Bible in the morning because we stay up too late watching Netflix for another hour and we have to sleep in to get enough rest. We aren’t investing in the lives of others because we’ve involved ourselves and our children in so many activities that we don’t have any time to give to others.
There are, of course, life circumstances that are out of our control, but that’s not the case with everything. There are plenty of activities and events we give our time to that keep us from doing the work God has for us.
This is why the practices of following Jesus have traditionally been called “spiritual disciplines,” because it takes discipline to follow Christ.
A pastor that is built to last, trains himself in godliness. He disciplines his heart, mind, body, and soul for the work of building up the body of Christ.
A HARD-WORKING FARMER
Paul’s third illustration is of a hard-working farmer: “It is the hard-working farmer who ought to have the first share of the crops.” Farmers have to put their hands to the plow and do the hard work that’s demanded by their crops and allowed by the weather.
There is little or no glory in the hard work of plowing, planting, and patiently waiting. It doesn’t earn a man acclaim. It’s simply the hard, diligent work that’s required if he wants to enjoy the harvest.
If the farmer doesn’t plow, he doesn’t reap. If he doesn’t reap, he doesn’t survive.
So much of the work of ministry is like this. We spend time reading another chapter, preparing sermons, or going over a budget. We put in hard work and sometimes long hours to partner with God in the work he wants to do through us. And sometimes this work is tiring.
“Though the work is hard, we press on because of the promise that we will reap eternal life with Christ.”
That’s why Paul wrote to the Galatian church, “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Gal. 6:9). Though the work is hard, we press on because of the promise that we will reap eternal life with Christ.
But we cannot go on like hard-working farmers without community or we will grow weary. We were made for community, and one of the primary reasons for that community is so that we can encourage one another to keep pressing on. As Hebrews 10:24 puts it, “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works.”
Put your hand to the plow and do the hard work of ministry. But don’t draw back from the people in your church. Share your life with them and draw strength and encouragement from them where it can be found.
GIVE YOURSELF UP TO CHRIST
Unless we are dedicated to Christ, disciplined in Christ, and hard-working for Christ, we will not be able to endure for the gospel; we will not be built to last.
John Newton, a pastor who was himself built to last, once wrote a letter encouraging other pastors to endure in the ministry. Newton wrote,
“In the school of Christ, you will have to learn some lessons which are not very pleasant to flesh and blood. You must learn to labor, to run, to fight, to wrestle—and many other hard exercises—some of which will try your strength, and others your patience.”
It’s often said that pastors must have the mind of a scholar, the heart of a child, and the skin of a rhinoceros. While there is certainly some truth to that statement, what pastors truly must have to endure in ministry is a profound understanding of grace. Grace sustains us through the ups-and-downs of ministry.
Newton writes,
“But do not be discouraged—you have a wonderful and a gracious Master, who does not only give instructions—but power and ability! He engages that His grace shall be sufficient, at all times and in all circumstances, for those who simply give themselves up to His teaching and His service.”
Pastor, if you want to be built to last—like an orderly soldier, tenacious athlete, or hard-working farmer—give yourself up to Christ and his teaching. Do the work of ministry and draw on the grace of Jesus.
Fighting for Silence in a World that Never Stops Shouting
I’m never alone. Every minute of every day, I carry a device that tethers me to the world. It’s a silent loudspeaker, buzzing its notifications. With a touch, I’m in the conversation. Even in my solitude, there is no silence. Even in my silence, there is no solitude. I’m not sure I agreed to this arrangement. But I have indeed bought into it. The bill is connected to my bank account. It couldn’t be easier to be united. Now, like so many, I’m wondering how to unplug.
God didn’t create me to be alone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need solitude from time to time. The digital age creates space for everything except the spiritual disciplines of silence and solitude. But my soul depends on it.
Is there an app for that?
Getting Away
A need for connection comes pre-installed in our soul’s software. So although something as simple as getting away doesn’t sound hard, our very nature pushes against it. We need scheduled maintenance, and it takes an override code to get inside. What’s the code? Silence and solitude.
Jesus was the most whole human ever to walk the earth. If he needed something, how can I say I don’t need the same? On multiple occasions, the scriptures show us that Jesus slipped away. He intentionally withdrew from his work. He went away from the crowds. He left his friends. He needed time to be alone with his Father.
The connection between Jesus and the Father wasn't breaking up, but mine often does. I go through dead zones, and when I look down, it’s not God’s end of the line that broke up. It’s mine. My hardware fails. The battery dies. I need a recharge.
My instinct is to head to social media for a recharge. Maybe I need a gospel pick-me-up from Twitter. Maybe I need an inspirational image-quote from Instagram. Maybe I need to catch up with friends on Facebook. Maybe. But maybe I need the maker of my soul first. I need his sustaining presence.
I need to get away with my Father.
Solitude
It starts with solitude. It can happen at home, but it probably won’t. For many of us, we must be pushed out. Thankfully, we have biblical precedent. It was the Spirit who led Jesus into the wilderness to begin his ministry (Matt. 4:1). And though I don’t necessarily desire him to take me through a time of testing, I want him to lead me to solitude regardless of the reason.
But it’s only solitude if we discount the omnipresence of God. I may be alone physically, but when the Spirit takes me away, my solitude becomes communion. The online world offers the same deal, but what I find there often leaves me hungrier than before. Shouldn’t a meal so large make me full? Why then does it leave me starving for more? The phantom presence the screen offers is no match for the personal presence of God.
And that’s where the problem arises. The digital world follows me into my alone time with God. It bursts in like an unwelcome but eager guest. And I invite it in. I pull up a chair. I ask for its thoughts. I draw out disruption. Really, I’m no different than the leaders Ezekiel witnessed in the temple's inner court—surrounded by the presence of God with my back toward the mercy seat and my face toward the east, worshiping the wrong thing (Ezek. 8:16).
Satan doesn’t need to use stones as bread substitutes. When I carry the digital world into my alone time, I carry all the ammunition he needs for every temptation. Man cannot live by bread alone. Nor can he live by pixels alone.
Silence
Solitude should lead to silence. But in the age of hot takes, silence is frowned upon. When silence is presumed as apathy, we’re quick to speak out of the shallow end of our wisdom pool. Deep, sustained thought occurs best in silent meditation, but we often don’t have time for that. Our voice must join the cacophony of the masses now. How else will we be validated? Justification by claim is the doctrine of our day.
But God’s ways are not man’s ways. God does not look upon our silence as a problem. In our hustle, we often don’t give him the space to speak deeply to our soul. We see silence as weakness. God sees silence as openness. He fills it with his voice. In the beginning, God called life from the void. He spoke over formless mass and spun the world into action (Gen. 1). Since our creation, it's not a lack of speaking that strains our connection. It's a lack of listening, which often results from constant talking. Pride always talks. But humility knows when to shut up. The elevation of ourselves, as always, comes home to roost.
Today, I’m too busy for silence. People need my voice. But it’s not my voice that upholds the universe. Jesus’ does that (Heb. 1:3). Have I stopped to listen?
Israel discovered what happens when speaking overtakes listening. It left them speechless, wandering prophet-less for four hundred years. Their incessant talking led to the cessations of God’s. Am I in danger of the same?
Thankfully, Israel heard from God again, because his steadfast love brought a new word. Out of the silence grew the heavenly hosts singing “Glory to God in the highest.” The silent night was filled with the newborn Christ.
That's just like God to break the silence with his grace. When we, like the Psalmist, quiet our souls (Ps. 131:2), God's voice grows loud. When the world feels overwhelming, we can be silent. God fights for us (Exod. 14:14). No wonder Jeremiah, in a moment of clarity, broke his lament to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord (Lam. 3:26). As the Lord fills his temple, silent awe fills his people. (Hab. 2:20). The Lamb broke the seventh seal, and heaven was silent for half an hour (Rev. 8:1). It’s a hard truth to believe in a world that never stops talking, but when we fall silent before God, God breaks our silence into worship.
The Nearness of God
God came to Moses on Mount Horeb (Exod. 3). He came to David in the wilderness (1 Sam. 23). He spoke to Elijah in a whisper (1 Kgs. 19:11-13). He took Paul to vacant Arabia (Gal. 1:17). He revealed the heavens to John on the Island of Patmos. Silence and solitude are God’s ways of speaking to his people. When he draws us away from the crowds, he draws us to himself. God speaks loudest when we get to where we can’t hear anyone else.
These men didn’t necessarily choose their silence or their solitude. God chose it for them. They had much to say to the watching world, but first they needed to be alone with God. That’s not the road I want. It’s too uncomfortable for me. But out of the silence and solitude of his people, God changed the course of history. What might he do with mine? What might he do with yours?
The world will still be turning when we come back from our solitude. But maybe we won’t turn the same. Maybe we’ll radiate like Moses. Maybe we’ll have confidence like David. Maybe we’ll trust God like Elijah. Maybe we’ll know Jesus like Paul. Maybe we’ll see heaven like John.
Life is not about being informed, but about being eternally transformed. The gospel is not a call to doing before it’s a call to being. God justifies us in Christ. It’s in silence and solitude where that is often confirmed the deepest. Our technological age puts the pressure on us to produce, but God took that pressure off at the cross. Our digital age pushes us to the question, “What shall I do to be saved?” When my action feels like the only way, I need the reminder of Gerhard O. Forde.
“We are justified freely, for Christ’s sake, by faith, without the exertion of our own strength, gaining of merit, or doing of works. To the age-old question, ‘What shall I do to be saved?’ the confessional answer is shocking: ‘Nothing! Just be still; shut up and listen for once in your life to what God the Almighty, creator and redeemer, is saying to his world and to you in the death and resurrection of his Son! Listen and believe!’”
There’s not an app for that. There’s only a call. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). “For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength” (Isa. 30:15).
Israel was unwilling to wait when such swift horses were at hand. When cyber-speed offers so much more, are we willing to stick to the ancient roads?
David McLemore is an elder at Refuge Church in Franklin, Tennessee. He also works for a large healthcare corporation where he manages an application development department. He is married to Sarah, and they have three sons. Read more of David’s writing on his blog, Things of the Sort.
Relax, Jesus is Already Proud of You
I enjoy running and have learned and experienced much with God as a result of this rhythm incorporated into my life. I once ran in a half marathon in Nashville, and the experience provided a glimpse of the gospel for me. The main reason that I was running this particular race was to redeem the first not-so-great experience I had at that same race, years earlier. The first time I ran it, I’d never run a half marathon. Although I set some goals that I was able to reach, it wasn’t the best experience because of the physical toll it took on me. So, after about six years, the opportunity presented itself for me to take part in the race again.
Leading up to this second half marathon, I trained hard to make sure I could meet my goals and exceed my time from the previous race. Along the way, I developed some pain in my Achilles tendon, which led to an interruption in my training. Still, I didn’t want to drop out of the race. Instead I made the decision to rest for a few weeks, hoping that would give my body the boost it need to run.
The morning of the race, I was filled with anxiety. I hadn’t run very much in the month leading up to that day because of my injury, and I wasn’t sure how my body would respond. I knew it was a risk to have missed out on the weeks of training, but I counted on the hope that letting my body heal was enough to get me through the 13.1 miles.
JUST FINISH!
The countdown began, and our group took off. I was feeling good. I began to pace myself behind a man and his son who were running together. They were the perfect rhythm, and it was doubly motivating because the son was at the most thirteen years old. I remember thinking, “If I can’t even keep up with a thirteen-year-old, I’m in big trouble.”
At about mile six, I started feeling my body betraying me. But, as any athlete knows, that’s when it’s time to kick it into another gear. That’s what I did. I kicked it into the “JUST FINISH” gear. It was very humbling. I don’t take for granted that many would be happy to complete a half marathon at all. I had some pretty aggressive goals and had even used words like, “I’ll be extremely disappointed” when asked about not meeting my expected finish time. I had set a pretty hard line on my definition of success. Not only did I not finish at my goal time, but I finished embarrassingly far behind.
Knowing the goals that I set and how hard I was working to achieve them, my wife was incredibly supportive. She continuously encouraged me when I was feeling disappointed in my body. On the day of the race, when I was walking out the door at 5:00 am, while everyone was asleep, I saw that my wife had written and taped a sign to the front door.
The sign said, “You can do it, babe! We are proud of you already!”
When I crossed the finish line after struggling and stumbling through the physical pain and emotional disappointment of my failure, the remembrance of that sign entered my mind.
‘I’M ALREADY PROUD OF YOU’
Whether I accomplished my goals, won the race, or didn’t even step foot on the course, I was already loved. My value had nothing to do with what I did in the marathon. This letter was a picture of the gospel. “I’m already proud of you.” Before I had done anything, before I even stepped to the starting line, she was already satisfied with me.
In Christ, this is how God views us. He is pleased with us, not because of the work we do or the way we finish. It’s because he doesn’t see us—he sees Jesus.
This reality, this love so unfathomable, leads me to a feeling of celebration, relief, and great joy! At first sight of my wife and son after the race, I welled up with tears and couldn’t stop smiling. My little boy spotted me and was calling out, “Hip, hip, hooray!” It reminded me of what it means for me to understand on a daily basis the great rescue I’ve experienced by the work of Jesus.
A good friend and mentor Keas Keasler once said, “The most theologically appropriate response to the resurrection is to dance.” I simply cannot argue with that. Understanding the gospel has reshaped the way that I live and rest.
THE GOSPEL SETS US FREE
The implications of understanding the truth of the gospel in our lives cannot be understated. For so long, I only understood the significance of the story of Jesus on the cross as meaning that when I die, I will get to go to heaven. It’s almost as though I approached life in a way that was apathetic about my current reality. I was grateful for God’s sacrifice on my behalf, but I was just hoping for the best as things played out before me.
Preaching the gospel to myself and studying the Scriptures led me to a personal awakening in light of the work of Christ. Jesus intended that we would experience the fullness of joy and life in Him on earth now, not only after death. Jesus’ words continually point to this message. John 10:10 says that He came to give us “abundant life.” In John 8:36, He reminds us that if He sets us free, we are “free indeed.” I had been dishonoring the finished work of Jesus by attempting to pay for my sin through my self-righteous life, when it had already been paid for by Him.
The central message of Jesus is that of the kingdom of God. In Matthew 4:23 it says, “He went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom.” The significance of this idea cannot be understated. God intended for us, as His followers, to be intentional to live into this message. The most vivid picture is found in Matthew 6:33 when He says, “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness.” As we consider what it means to respond to His instruction, we can be encouraged that He is with us as we move forward.
KINGDOM LIVING
We don’t need to be convinced that our world is a broken place. Politically, racially, economically, and culturally, our world is out of rhythm. In Romans 8:22 it says, “For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” We all long for things to be the way they were in the beginning, at creation.
But, we receive a beautiful promise in the book of Revelation: The One who is seated on the throne says to John in a vision that He is making all things new again (21:5)! The most amazing thing about this is that God intends for us to join Him in the work of the renewal of all things. Jesus even instructs His followers to pray along these lines: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt 6:9–10).
In this verse, Jesus teaches us to ask that earth would look like heaven now. When we pray for and look at our neighborhoods through these lenses, we remember that God desires to “reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of His cross” (Col 1:20) Or as author N. T. Wright says, “We are called to be part of God’s new creation, called to be agents of that new creation here and now.” We, as the family of God, get to join Him in this beautiful work!
Matthew 13:44 says, “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy, he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” For most of my life as a follower of Jesus, I wouldn’t have used the word “joy” to describe the condition of my heart. So much of my lack of understanding of the finished work of Jesus kept me from seeing God’s intention for my heart and life. Jesus Himself says in John 17:13 that He desires that His joy may be in us to the full.
RESTING IN OUR TREASURE
To know that this discovery of the true treasure has reshaped everything about the way that the man in the above parable will live is a picture of the real response to the gospel. He is willing to forsake all else to give himself to the purposes of simply being with the treasure.
One of the most significant indicators of whether we’ve begun to give ourselves to the understanding and response to soul rest is if we are displaying the fruit of joy in our lives. When we know and understand the magnificent, mysterious, radical, and miraculous love and grace of Jesus, we will find our hearts bursting with the joy of the Lord.
Content taken from Soul Rest: Reclaim Your Life. Return to Sabbath by Curtis Zackery, Kirkdale Press (June 6, 2018), lexhampress.com.
Curtis "CZ" Zackery is perhaps best known for his deep empathy and contagious passion for the gospel, which defies barriers of age, ethnicity, and religion. Whether teaching, speaking, or writing, CZ provides a perspective on the gospel that is raw, accessible, and relevant. Curtis has served in various ministry and leadership roles over the last 15 years―including church planting, pastoring, and speaking on rest, the kingdom, and the beauty of the gospel. Curtis, his wife Monique, and two sons, Noah and Micah, currently live in Franklin, TN. Learn more at curtiszackery.com.
Lessons from Building a Culture of Discipleship
Three years ago, I had just been let go from a worship leader position because of my spiritual immaturity. Just like the twenty-some years leading up to that point, I felt like I was missing something. I was going to church, serving every weekend, and trying my best to become like Jesus but it just wasn’t working. What was I doing wrong?
There has to be more to Christianity than this, I thought.
I was right.
Not long after I was laid off, a couple of guys I knew from church invited me to join what they were calling a discipleship group. They explained it as a time of accelerated spiritual growth for the purpose of replicating what you learn. There would be homework and memory verses, along with reading the Scriptures together and praying for each other.
After laying out these expectations, they looked at me and said, “We want you to go home and pray about this and see if it’s something you’re willing to commit to.”
“I’ve already prayed about it,” I said. “When do we start?”
DISCIPLESHIP CHANGES EVERYTHING
The next six months with that group transformed my life. Through discipleship, I found what had eluded me for so many years—a true sense of calling that superseded everything else and brought the kingdom of God right to me.
Discipleship changed my life. And it’s what I’ve given my life to ever since.
Now I’m the associate pastor at Hillcrest Baptist Church in Charlotte, NC, where I've have been tasked with overseeing discipleship. We’re on the second round of D-Groups—discipleship groups of three to five men or women that function like the one I was invited into.
We don’t have things fully figured out, not by a long shot. But I have learned some things along the way. If you’re serious about discipleship or trying to turn the culture of your church in that direction, I hope you can learn from some of these lessons the Lord is teaching me.
EVERY CHURCH IS UNIQUE
Early on, I was guilty of trying to apply the things I read in books or heard in conferences to my local church. There’s nothing wrong with learning and trying things, but I was attempting to take a model designed for a large church and apply it to a body of about 75 people.
Reading good books, asking questions, and learning from others who are doing discipleship well are all key parts of establishing a discipleship pathway. But when we just mimic an idea without considering our body of believers, we miss the point entirely.
While there are many amazing blueprints out there for discipleship, we must be careful to consider how a discipleship strategy will mesh with our particular church culture.
BE REALISTIC ABOUT THE SUCCESS RATE
Some of the discipleship studies I read and some of the teachers I sat under said that the majority of people participating in discipleship groups experienced a multiplication success rate of around fifty percent (meaning fifty percent of those who participated in a group went on to replicate the process with others afterward). That seemed low.
But here’s what I learned after helping start D-groups at my church. 2 Timothy 2:2 says, “what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also.” Notice that the instruction to pass on what has been learned isn’t for just anyone, but to those who were faithful.
I’ve been guilty of getting so pumped about D-Groups and what they’ve done for me that I forced the model on others who hadn’t yet proven themselves to be faithful. Too often we jump in front of the Spirit’s leading and throw people in discipleship contexts because we’re eager for them to experience transformation. But if they’re not hungry for the experience, our efforts fall on deaf ears.
Let me be clear: eagerness is not a bad thing; we just have to be sure the Spirit stays in front. Don’t assume that because someone doesn’t grasp the call to make disciples right away, or if someone doesn’t want to join a group right away, that you have failed or God has failed. God is in control of all things, and perhaps the year you spent with that person was the groundwork for what’s to come.
Our minds are finite but God’s is not. He doesn’t measure success the way we do. We have to keep this in mind or we will naturally put percentages and expectations on something that can't be measured on this side of eternity.
REDEFINE, UNLEARN, AND LEARN FOR THE FIRST TIME
Everything we’ve been doing at Hillcrest is redefining, unlearning, or learning for the first time. It takes most people a good bit of time and teaching to really grasp disciple-making and to unlearn what they think discipleship (and even church) is about. Some have never even heard of the concept of discipleship.
For several months, we taught on discipleship through the book of Luke. At the same time, our initial discipleship groups were up and running, and those in the groups were able to explain what it was like to others in the church.
It takes time for people to buy into discipleship because most churchgoers today were never personally discipled by someone. Be patient with people, be clear with your communication and language, and help people see the beauty of discipleship that involves all of their lives.
PEOPLE ARE DESPERATE TO BE DISCIPLED, BUT THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY’RE LOOKING FOR
I have found that there are a lot of people who, deep down, really want a discipling relationship, but they don’t know what they’re looking for. Their souls are crying out to be taught and shown what it means to follow Jesus, but they are either fearful, don’t know how to ask for it, or didn’t know such a thing existed.
If you talk to those who have led discipleship groups they’ll tell you that the time spent with their groups is the most productive and rewarding time in their weeks. I believe it, because it was God’s plan for us. Disciple-makers are fulfilling that calling and are shown their true purpose for life. It changes the way they do business, the way they do home life, the way they structure their personal time, and, ultimately every aspect of their lives. They begin looking for opportunities to share the good news with people in their spheres of influence, not just verbally but through their actions as well.
If you want to see a bored Christian come to life, teach them to be a disciple-maker.
BE DOERS OF THE WORD
The most important thing I’ve learned about discipleship is that it has to be shown, not just explained. James says to “be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (Jas. 1:22). I can’t stress enough how important this is. I try my best to preach this to my own soul every day.
James goes on to say that faith without works is dead. I can’t think of more profound insight into Western Christianity as this one. We have a lot of talking and very little doing. But we can’t teach people to follow Jesus without actually showing them what it’s like at some point.
Imagine a young man who had a rough upbringing. God reaches out to him through a series of events in his life. He seeks out answers and eventually crosses the line of faith and baptism. He shows himself to be faithful by consistent involvement in the church community. Then he gets plugged into a D-Group and starts meeting weekly with other guys to memorize Scripture, confess their sins, and learn about God.
All good things! But there’s no one showing him how to do the things he’s learning.
How much more effective would it be if you invited this young man into your life? How much more would he learn if he watched you spend time with God every day, and he was shown how to apply spiritual disciplines in a practical way. How quickly would he grow if you let him walk through life with you as you love your spouse, raise your child, pray, serve, fail, repent, and pursue holiness?
This is a kind of discipleship most of us have a hard time desiring. Perhaps we’re busy or preoccupied, so we don’t take the time to invite people into our lives. But what does that teach them? Or maybe we don’t invite people to imitate us because we’re not living a life worthy of imitation.
We have to ask ourselves tough questions about what’s keeping us from investing in men and women the way we’re called to. We have to ask ourselves if we're being doers of the Word.
SPEND YOUR LIFE CHANGING LIVES FOR CHRIST
Training others to be like Jesus is well worth our time. But we don't live what we don’t believe.
Nothing in my life was the same after I was discipled. I believed in Jesus but didn’t know what to do or how to do it until someone showed me.
If you’re already discipling people, keep going; keep teaching other faithful men or women to teach others. If you’re new to discipleship, jump in. You’ll find what you’ve been searching for, and your life will never be the same.
Waking Up on the Emmaus Road
I remember how dark it looked inside. It was mid-morning. The sun was hot in the sky, and my skin felt it, but the tomb looked cold, robbed of its purpose. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the linens. And that was it. Nothing else. Were the women lying? I wasn't sure. I pursued truth for so many years—that's why I followed him—but now my heart felt as empty as the rock-cut tomb. He wasn’t here, that much was true. Where could he be?
I turned and walked away. No goodbyes. No farewells. Nothing but the turn of the heel and the open road. I somehow missed the joy the other women felt. Would I ever feel it? Not today, I thought. Maybe never. But perhaps soon? One can never be sure when it will come. Joy isn't ours to beckon; it's ours to receive.
I followed my husband. He kept replaying the events of the past few days. I wished he would stop talking about it. It wasn't helping me feel better, and it wasn't answering any of the questions I asked myself.
As we walked, I felt caught in a dream. It was a nightmare, and there was no one across the room to wake me from the dread. It was only he and I, walking.
In this nightmare, I could see hope. It had become a man. He wasn't transparent, but he wasn't solid, either. He was what you’d expect hope to be—able to be touched, yet somehow out of reach.
He was standing above, pouring something down on me. I couldn't feel it, and that made it a nightmare. I knew it must be something good, something to take the bad away. But I couldn't feel it no matter how hard I tried.
So I jumped as if jumping into the downpour would push me through it to the depths, like jumping into the sea. I wanted to drown myself in whatever it was, but I couldn't get to it. The pain of not feeling it was unbearable.
As I stood beneath the untouchable rain, I saw my husband in a worse position. The downpour wasn't flowing his way. I reached for his hand to bring him into the waterfall, but couldn't find it. So I gave up and turned my face to the dust swirling around my feet. The staleness of the world dried up the beauty of the rain.
Shaking myself awake, I heard a man’s voice. As he approached, he asked what we were discussing. Discussing was a strong word. Had I said anything yet?
I didn't see where he came from but supposed it to be our direction. My husband spoke first. I was grateful. My voice was hard in my throat, that feeling when you want to cry, need to cry, but try to resist. Nothing can go out, because as soon as the stone rolls away everything else inside will follow. And what’s inside on days like this can't be good.
My husband seemed to rebuke the man. I was surprised at his tone. But, then again, everything seemed surprising now.
“Are you the only one who hasn't heard of these things?”
The man pleaded ignorance: “What things?”
I drifted in and out of those first few sentences, and my nightmare returned. But this time it felt different. It wasn't really a nightmare. Something else was happening, though I couldn't recognize what.
The dust I saw before was lapping up the rain and becoming something fresh, something new. The words of the Psalmist rose to my mind from nowhere. “You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.” Something was changing.
I awoke again, still on the road. How much time had passed? My husband was still rehearsing the days’ events.
“What things? I can't believe it! The things concerning Jesus of Nazareth, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and rulers delivered him up to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.
Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things happened. Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. They were at the tomb early in the morning, and when they did not find his body, they came back saying that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see."
The stranger’s disposition changed. He wasn't curious anymore. He looked at my husband, then at me, then back to my husband.
With pity in his voice, he said, “My dear Cleopas, how could you be so foolish and slow to believe the prophets? Were not all these things necessary? Was it not the plan of God? Did the Christ need not suffer these things and enter into his glory? Surely you do not fail to understand!”
We were stopped now. When did that happen? I felt something begin to rest, but it wasn't relief from walking. Something deep inside slowed to rest, like laying down after a hard day’s work.
The stranger continued talking, taking up each Scripture in turn, explaining things I never considered. I could see my husband was confused. He was trying, but something seemed out of reach. I realized my nightmare was his nightmare too. Something was pouring down, but he couldn’t feel it. Not yet, anyway. I could tell he wanted to, just as I did. But there was a veil.
We began walking again. And we came to the edge of town. It was getting dark. The stranger wanted to travel on, but neither I nor my husband could bear for him to go. We pleaded with him to stay, and when he agreed, found a friendly house and entered. Food was prepared and brought. We sat down to eat.
“So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate.”
His story began there. I remembered the way my heart ached before he came and that ache returned with a fury burning inside my breast. The untouchable rain was pouring now, but this time not in a dream. I could feel something bursting out of me. Or was it bursting out of him into me? I couldn’t tell. It felt so foreign yet so familiar. I wanted to hear more, even if the pain would only increase. There was something fresh in the story he told, as if it was all new, though I had heard the words before.
The meal was before us, and the stranger took the bread. I fixed my eyes on him now. I had seen him before. Why didn't I notice until now?
He took the bread, blessed it and broke it, gave it to us and we ate. Then our eyes were opened, and we knew He was in our presence—or were we in His?
I thought of the nightmare one final time and realized I was awake for the first time. The rain came, the harvest arrived, and it was of eternal abundance. I stepped inside and felt it. Hope.
David McLemore is an elder at Refuge Church in Franklin, Tennessee. He also works for a large healthcare corporation where he manages an application development department. He is married to Sarah, and they have three sons. Read more of David’s writing on his blog, Things of the Sort.
God's Presence > God's Provision
In the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:9–13), Jesus helps us understand where our requests should begin. After establishing that God is our Father who is as compassionate as he is capable, Jesus reminds us that God’s power aims to advance his agenda, not ours. Jesus shows us that Christian prayer begins with longing for God’s presence before his provision. All of the requests at the beginning of the Lord’s Prayer are godward. Take a look: Our Father in heaven, hallowed by your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven (Matt. 6:9–10).
This removes man from the center of the picture. It displaces our needs and desires, reminding us that the most important things about prayer are not what God gives us by way of his possessions, but what God gives by way of his presence. Throughout the Bible, the people who gain peace and security in this life are the people who long for God’s presence more than his possessions. Jesus teaches us this in his first three petitions.
First Petition: God’s Honor
“Hallowed be your name” (Matt. 6:9) could better be translated for our ears, “I pray that your name will be honored.” In the Old Testament, when people lived against God’s will and design, their wicked deeds were said to profane the name of God.
To pray “hallowed be your name” means being concerned more with the advancement of God’s reputation in the world than your own. It’s praying that God himself would protect his name from being defamed and obscured, so that people don’t accept a wrong picture of him or reject a distorted picture of him.
God’s name is holy. Nothing can change that reality. We’re simply asking him to work in the world so that his name would be treated as such.
The glory of God has come into the world in the person of Jesus. “Hallowed be your name” therefore means praying that everyone would respond appropriately to Jesus. The world we live in is as unimpressed with God as someone who stays seated when the bride walks down the aisle. This is because they’re blinded to the glory of God as revealed in Jesus (see 2 Cor. 4:3–6).
So we begin prayer by pleading that God’s glory would be seen and submitted to in the person of Christ. The beauty of this petition is that we’re asking God to do what he already wants to do.
This request sets the tone for the rest of the prayer. All that we ask of God must flow from this all-consuming desire.
Second Petition: God’s Kingdom Come
“Your kingdom come” (Matt. 6:10) is a prayer for the success of the gospel in the world. We know the gospel has changed us, so we plead for God’s kingdom to be extended through the gospel going out to the ends of the world.
We’re tired of the world we live in, and we long for something better. We want to experience the fullness of the Beatitudes. We long to be where God’s rule is recognized and adored. God has promised this will happen, and his promise stokes our longing.
When a dad promises his daughter that he will take her to Disneyland, the child knows this trip isn’t a matter of if, but when. In her eagerness to receive the fulfillment of her dad’s promise, she constantly asks, “When are we going? You promised!” This is what it’s like for us to pray “your kingdom come.”
We cannot serve two masters. Likewise, two kings—us and God—cannot coexist. Someone’s rule and ambitions have to die. As Christians, our agendas have in fact died, and it’s glorious because ours would have killed us (Gal. 2:20). Praying “your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” unifies us because it helps us long for his kingdom. It keeps us from back-biting, from jockeying for position, from longing to establish little kingdoms of our own.
Third Petition: Your Will Be Done
“Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10) further develops the second request for God’s kingdom to come. We long to see God reign here on earth in the same way he already reigns in heaven.
We don’t want people to submit reluctantly to God’s rule. We want them to joyfully submit because they’re convinced he is good. We pray for God’s will to be accomplished on earth however he determines, even if it means our suffering, sacrifice, and death.
Establishing God’s kingdom on earth means displacing lesser kingdoms, which is what churches do through their gospel work. Local churches, after all, are outposts of God’s kingdom. So praying that his will would be done means praying that God would continue to establish his gospel work through local churches.
This prayer for God’s presence to be seen and enjoyed is quite startling to a world that prefers for God to be an absentee Father that just sends a big child support check each month. Because we’re sinful, we would prefer God to give us our demands while demanding nothing in return. We love to set the agenda. But Jesus teaches us here that God’s presence precedes his provision. His agenda is far better than ours.
When our local churches pray and live in light of these first three petitions, it’s attractive to the watching world because we display a different picture of what God is like. It shows the world how ineffective its kingdoms are. It strengthens our witness.
John Onwuchekwa (MA, Dallas Theological Seminary) serves as pastor of Cornerstone Church in Atlanta, Georgia.
Content taken from Prayer: How Praying Together Shapes the Church by John Onwuchekwa, ©2018. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187,www.crossway.org.
Don't Settle for the Spotlight
Light gets our attention. Our eyes are naturally drawn to it. The warm, illuminating effects of light beckon us to come closer. We become curious to see what the light frames for our eyes. Our interest in the light often involves our desire to become spotlighted. Many find it difficult to resist being the center of attention. Our capacity for self-exaltation is limitless. Spotlights get easier to procure every day. Social media is a prime outlet for building our platforms, brands, and personal kingdoms.
We throw our energy into shining brightly. We misapply God’s good command to let our light shine before men by projecting ourselves into the world. Often, we are oblivious to the fact that we’re drawing attention away from our father to ourselves. We deceive ourselves into believing we’re promoting him when our heart’s true desire is to live in the spotlight.
We seek the wrong light. We settle for the spotlight when we already know the Light. More than that, our father has given us his light. It’s ours to shine. We must shine his light into a dark world, so glory is given to him, not to us.
God is the Light
During his earthly ministry, Jesus said, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). David said, “The Lord is my light” (Ps. 27:1). In Genesis 1:3 God creates light for the whole world. However, in Revelation 22:5 he says that heaven will have no need for such light because God himself will be our light.
We would happily live in darkness but for the grace of God. He exposes the darkness in us and opens our eyes to sin. He exposes our wickedness and illuminates his holiness. But he doesn’t leave us in our helpless state. In mercy, his illumination extends to our great rescue. His light guides us toward himself. He welcomes us into his family, making it possible to live as children of the light through Christ (Eph. 5:8).
His light is incomparable. When we attempt to stand in the spotlight, we desire to outshine our maker. The world is living in darkness. We once lived in darkness (Eph. 5:8). Charles Spurgeon said, “He who has been in the dark dungeon knows the way to the bread and the water.” We aren’t the light. We aren’t what people need. We point others to what they need.
We are Light-Bearers
2 Corinthians 4:6-7 teaches, “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” We are the clay jars, not the treasure. We hold what we want others to behold. We hold the light.
When others look at me, and my eyes are on Christ, they will become curious to know what has my attention. They will shift their eyes from me to him. This is the goal—to make much of Christ. If people look my way for whatever reason, I want to leverage that opportunity to point them to the true light.
John the Baptist is a great example of a light bearer. He drew man’s attention to the light of Christ. “He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:8-9). He gladly watched his followers become followers of Christ.
Do we point all who follow us to Christ or to ourselves?
Shining the Light
As light bearers, we carry the light of Christ everywhere we go. He’s given us his light to shine into the darkness. Jesus commands, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). When God tells us to let our light shine, he doesn’t mean to shine the light on ourselves. He means to let the light that he sparked in our hearts shine. His light draws people to himself.
When we stand in the spotlight, people will be drawn to us. When we shine his light within us, people will be drawn to our father. When we shine rightly, he will get the glory, not us. When we shine rightly, our motivation and our joy will come from the advancement of his kingdom, not ours.
We must be careful, always examining our hearts to make sure that our good works are done for the glory of God and for the good of his church. The spotlight is tempting. But living in the spotlight will never satisfy us and will ultimately be disappointing to others. It is only when we shine God’s light inside of us that we will be truly satisfied.
True Light Transforms
God shines his light into our lives. This light within us is the light that we shine before others. When we stand in the spotlight, we settle for lesser glory. Worse, we tempt others to do the same. True and greater glory exists.
People may be attracted to a source of light, but they can only be changed when God gives them the light of life. He must open their eyes. He must illuminate their sinful rebellion of his rule and their necessary dependence on his grace for their redemption. He alone transforms former rebels into beloved sons and daughters. Spotlights may illuminate us, bringing us glory, but God’s light transforms us, bringing him glory.
Church, we must shine. We must radiate and reflect him and his glory. We must show others what is true. The world needs authenticity, not artificialness. We settle for a light on us when we have his light in us. The closer we get to the true light, the less we will settle for an imitation. No substitute will satisfy.
Be satisfied with his light. Be motivated to bring others to his light. Let them gaze into his glory and become transformed by it (2 Cor. 3:18). Shine for the good of the church. Shine for the sake of the lost. Shine for the glory of God. Shine on, church.
Christy Britton is a wife and homeschool mom of four biological sons. She is an orphan advocate for 127 Worldwide. She and her husband are covenant members at Imago Dei Church in Raleigh, NC. She loves reading, discipleship, Cajun food, spending time in Africa, hospitality, and LSU football. She writes for several blogs, including her own, www.beneedywell.com.
Fight for Unity
Sometimes the smallest things can make a big impact. Like a Coke bottle. You may remember the 1980 South African comedy classic, The Gods Must Be Crazy, which begins when a pilot, flying over the Kalahari, finishes a glass bottle of Coke and tosses it from the window of his small plane. A rural San sees this strange object fall from the sky and receives it as a useful gift from “the gods.” His people begin to use it as a beneficial tool for their various tasks.
But eventually, conflict enters their Edenic existence, disrupting the harmonious life of the tribe, and they begin to fight over this otherwise innocuous Coke bottle. At one point, the bottle becomes a weapon. Finally, Xi—the main character, and leader of the tribe—decides the gods must be crazy for sending this “gift,” and sets out to return it to them by carrying it to the end of the Earth and tossing it over the edge.
I think of that movie when I read through the Book of Acts and come across passages like this one:
“Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common … There was not a needy person among them” (Acts 4:32, 34a).
However novel it might be, the film depicts this tribe living in a similar, idyllic way: a group of people living communally—in unity—with no basic sense of private property. When their unity becomes threatened by the intrusion of a foreign object from the “civilized world,” their leader decisively upholds the tribe’s unity as infinitely more valuable than this strange item. Their leader goes to great pains to remove the source of disunity and conflict, so there can once again be peace.
A Picture of Spirit-filled Unity
In the biblical story, this kind of unity is only possible because of the presence of the Holy Spirit among the first Christians: “they were all filled with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 4:31). Their profound unity is described as their being “of one heart and soul” (v. 32).
One wonders if this kind of unity reflects a rather simple and idealistic wish-dream, but knowing Jesus himself prayed for this kind of unity (John 17:21-24) speaks volumes of its viability. Paul commands his churches to protect unity as they live out the Gospel (Eph. 4:1-6), and explains the necessity of humility for such an enterprise:
“So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, 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. 2:1-8).
To have “one mind” with one another is to have the “the same mind” as Christ. It’s another way of saying believers should be “of one heart and one soul.”
Unity Expressed Through Generosity
The unity of the church in Acts 4 is distinctly expressed through generosity, which takes shape in a physical way through a detachment from things:
“… And no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common. And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need” (4:32-35).
Unity has economic implications. As God pours grace on them (v. 33), they allow this grace to flow through them to others. This radical generosity was a key factor as both a cause and a result of the church’s unity.
The Opposite of Unity-Building Generosity
The narrative of Acts 4 continues by drawing attention to an example of this kind of unity-forming generosity: “Thus Joseph, who was also called by the apostles Barnabas (which means son of encouragement), a Levite, a native of Cyprus, sold a field that belonged to him and brought the money and laid it at the apostles’ feet” (Acts 4:36-37).
Barnabas was not the only disciple showing this kind of generosity (see v. 34-35), but he became the poster-boy of what generosity-shaped unity looked like.
The story of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11), which comes immediately on the heels of Barnabas’ story, should be read in concert with it. This unfortunate couple, who attempt to copy the generous actions of others, make a fatal error through greed and deceit, undercutting the church’s unity.
Peter prophetically calls attention to the fundamental cause of this deceit—a collaboration between this couple and Satan: “Ananias, why has Satan filled your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit and to keep back for yourself part of the proceeds of the land?” (Acts 5:3)
Satan’s Divisive Work
Our adversary, who exists to “steal, kill, and destroy” (John 10:10) despises the unity of the church—an object lesson of his own demise (Eph. 3:1-10). Wherever there is division, broken relationships, strife, bitterness, or discord, Satan is at work. If he can’t destroy the church from outside (through persecution), he’ll attempt it from the inside (through division). In this case, Satan knew the way to destroy unity was through greed.
When Ananias and Sapphira chose to sin, it didn’t just have an effect on them. It wasn’t a private affair. As much as they thought otherwise, they couldn’t keep their sin hidden. Their greed, deceit, envy, and pride—if left uncovered—would have acted like cancer in the body of Christ, destroying the unity Jesus died for and the Spirit was producing.
The Grace of Judgment
We have a picture of a community living in selfless, sacrificial, generous, loving unity. In the midst of this, Ananias and Sapphira conspire in a way that opposes and threatens this all-important unity. And Jesus will have none of it.
Judgment will be rendered on those who threaten the unity of Jesus’ church by pursuing their own ends, living the exact opposite of unity and humility. God hates it when his church is threatened. In his eyes, the unity of the church is a matter of life and death. Like a jealous, protective husband who will fight, defend, sacrifice, and even kill to protect his wife, Jesus has died for and will protect his own bride, the church.
Jesus loves his church too much to allow selfish people to ruin it and go unpunished. Let’s take this as a warning: creating and perpetuating disunity in the church has dire consequences. When we don’t believe the unity of the church is a big deal, we end up using it for our own ends: we go to be entertained; we refuse to commit and engage in relationship; we hold grudges; we gossip; we leave when something doesn’t meet our expectations or feed our preferences.
All these kinds of selfishness eat away at Christ’s church, and God will bring judgment on those who threaten its unity (see 1 Cor. 11:27-32).
Three Ways to Fight for Unity
- Seek Christ’s mind of humility. Assess your own relationships in the church and discern whether you are part of the problem or part of the solution. Are you selfishly vying for your own way and your own preferences? Or are you learning to lay down your own agenda and your own desires, submitting them to Christ for the good of his body? The call for us is a call to unity—to oneness—that requires humility, patience, gentleness, bearing with one another, putting others’ needs above our own, and pursuing peace.
- Move towards others, not away from them. Unity is the hard and difficult road because it necessitates moving into conflict when we don’t really want to. It’s easier to avoid people we disagree with, or who have hurt us. Sometimes it’s easier to leave a church than stay and seek peace. When Jesus foresaw conflict in the church, he offered a road of reconciliation that revolved around relationship, not isolation (Matt. 18:15-20). To fight for unity is to pursue reconciliation when we have wronged someone else, and to be impatient with things that cause disunity.
- Be a peacemaker. Walk with others to make peace where conflict exists within the church. Instead of insulating or avoiding, take on the church’s problems and conflicts as our own. As children of God, we are to imitate our Father in peacemaking: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (Matt 5:9). Jesus was our example of this: who, for the sake of his church, went to the greatest lengths to fight for our unity. As our leader, he went beyond the ends of the Earth to get rid of the source of our conflict. He took our sin on himself and has eliminated it forever. This is the gospel we live by, and as such, is the gospel we are to lead with as “ambassadors of reconciliation” (2 Cor. 5:14-21) who fight for the unity of the church.
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.
6 Practical Ways to Cultivate Face to Face Friendship
True friendship doesn’t just happen. Friendship—real and deep friendship—takes wise and careful cultivation. Although letters, texts, and phone calls each can be used to strengthen friendship, it especially thrives when we spend time together, life on life and face to face. And this is also the best context in which to help one another grow as disciples of Jesus Christ—it is when we’re together in the mix of everyday life that we see how we really live, and see evidence of what we really believe. For the sake of deeper community and discipleship, here are six ways to cultivate face to face friendship.
1. Get Face to Face
Our digital age gives us very convenient tools for friendship. We can call one another across great distances; we can text and email; we can share pictures and videos. But nothing replaces face to face experiences. The apostle Paul wrote meaningful letters to those whom he loved, but he also said, “we pray most earnestly night and day that we may see you face to face” (1 Thess. 3:10). The apostle John wrote, “I would rather not use paper and ink. Instead, I hope to come to you and talk face to face, so that our joy may be complete” (2 John 12). Notice the connection between getting face to face and joy. Technology is a great gift, but relational joy will only come to completion when we get face to face.
Why? Because we are not disembodied spirits; we are embodied human beings. We were made for the full experience of human communication. We were made to see the sincerity in our friend’s eyes, to feel the reassuring touch, to hear the unrestrained laugh. This fullness of friendship can only be experienced when we’re together.
One of the most practical steps to cultivate friendship is to simply step into the presence of a friend. And use technology not just to connect, but also to schedule times to get together.
2. Add Food to Friendship
Food is one of the greatest tools for strengthening relationships. Food is not just for continued existence; it provides a context for community. In many cultures, sharing a meal signifies friendship. Meals provide an opportunity to slow down, relax, and open up to one another.
When Jesus came, he didn’t just meet with people, he spent time with them around a table. “The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!'” (Matt. 11:19). Jesus was not a glutton nor a drunkard, but the accusation stuck because of his reputation for spending so much time eating with people.
We each eat about twenty-one meals every week. Why not block off two of those—for example, breakfast on Tuesdays and lunch on Fridays—and invite a friend to join you? And then establish a weekly or every-other-week rhythm of grabbing coffee with someone.
3. Ask Lots of Questions
We honor friends when we ask them good questions about their lives. Comments about the weather are fine, but not if we neglect speaking about the climate of our souls.
Here are a few questions that help us drop below the surface, into the deeper waters of our souls: What are you encouraged about recently? What has been discouraging to you? How are things going at home (or at work, or at school)? What are you reading recently, and what has stood out to you from it? What are a few themes in your life, or a few things that are often on your mind these days?
4. Actually Listen
We also honor our friends when we listen to them. This is different than merely hearing their words and even different than understanding what they’re saying. This is also different than paying attention, but primarily waiting until you have an opportunity to speak again.
The listening that strengthens friendship is listening curiously. True friendship requires conversational give-and-take. Be curious, ask questions, and listen carefully.
5. Set a Tone of Encouragement
Our words often determine the health of our friendships. And not just specific words here and there, but the general tone that we set with our speech. And the cumulative force of our words affects our relationships. What tone do you set by what you say?
We strengthen friendships by saturating our speech with encouragement. Christians are called to speak “only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (Eph. 4:29). Whenever a thought comes to your mind to affirm something about someone, do it without hesitating. Let them know why you respect them. Let them know you’re proud of them.
This kind of direct, look-your-friend-in-the-eye affirmation may seem awkward at first, especially for men. But over time we will find this kind of encouragement life-giving. As those who have heard God’s gracious acceptance of us in Christ, and as those who will hear a “well done” on the coming Day, we are called to generously give affirmation and encouragement to one another.
6. Turn Your Unique Circumstances into Opportunities to Connect
Maybe friendship was easier in a previous season of life. But now your job involves drive-time. Or your studies are demanding. Or you are raising young children. Or sports schedules keep your evenings and weekends unpredictable or full. How can you find time for friendship in this new season?
Here’s a plan: Identify what makes your season of life challenging, and ask how you can creatively turn that very obstacle into an opportunity for friendship. If your commute is long, ask if someone else would like to carpool with you one day each week. If you have to drive to a basketball practice or soccer game, invite someone to join you. Students, consider studying with others and take a couple five-minute breaks to talk. Parents with young children, schedule play-dates for your kids—walk together, go to the park together, have lunch together.
True friendship is worth every bit of effort we put into it because we were made for friendship—life on life and face to face friendship, the kind that endures through thick and thin. This kind of friendship provides the best context for helping one another grow as disciples of Jesus Christ together.
Drew Hunter (MA, Wheaton College) is the author of Made for Friendship: The Relationship That Halves Our Sorrows and Doubles Our Joys. He is also the teaching pastor at Zionsville Fellowship in Zionsville, Indiana. He previously served as a minister for young adults at Grace Church of DuPage and taught religious studies at College of DuPage. Drew and his wife, Christina, live in Zionsville, Indiana, and have four children.
Wrongly Handling the Word of Truth
I still remember my first hermeneutics class, where I learned how to interpret the Bible. We were required to take one through my university. I was not excited to spend a semester learning what I assumed I already knew. I recall being stunned as I learned that I was far from reading my Bible correctly! I quickly found that I knew nothing of the context from which any of the biblical stories came from, nor had I ever even taken the time to look for contextual clues through careful study. Questions like, “Where does this passage occur in the book?” or “Who is the author speaking to?” had never crossed my mind. But once I learned some basic Bible study tools, everything seemed new and no text felt off-limits or unapproachable.
Recently, Crossway released new research and infographics that revealed people’s bible study habits. As a Bible teacher, I was shocked to see how many books of the scriptures go completely unread because they're hard to understand.
With countless Bible studies are available for churchgoers, this shouldn’t be something we have to grapple with. Yet biblical illiteracy remains pervasive among us.
Perhaps that's because we teachers too often assume people understand the importance of Bible study. Why should people learn to study the Bible? After all, it's difficult to understand ancient cultures and multiple genres.
WHY WE SHOULD STUDY THE BIBLE
Why do we want our people to study the Bible? Because the Bible yields its treasure to those who dig for it. Too often we take a shallow approach to reading Scripture: we want the application without the work, the easy-to-grasp imperatives without the hearty parables, the cozy promises without the uncomfortable truths. Christians should study the Bible to know God deeply. It is a book filled with the glories that teach, reproof, correct, and train us (1 Tim. 3:16), but it is ultimately a book about God and what he is like (Luke 24:27).
As G. K. Beale’s popular work states, “We become what we behold, we become what we worship.” We are formed by the things we do, by the liturgies we participate in, and one of these things that can form us into disciples of his words is the careful study of Scripture. This is why love must be what drives us to the text. Then our study will formational instead of just educational. Disciples are, by definition, learners, and that learning should change transfer across creed and into conduct. Doctrine must motivate practice. Truth has to move from our head to our hearts and actions.
As we seek to live our lives in a manner worthy of the gospel (Phil. 1:27), our answer is to submit to be shaped by the author of life abundant. His words and his Spirit given to us are what guide us, as they point us consistently back to be like Christ.
A CALL TO BIBLICAL LITERACY
I shouldn’t have had to wait until a hermeneutics course to have at least some tools to study Scripture. Christian universities don’t bear the weight of training church members in biblical literacy—churches do. My local church should have equipped me with the basic tools for reading, understanding, and applying the foundational text of our faith.
Biblical literacy helps us more clearly recognize the gospel as it is reflected across all of Scripture. Even in portions of the Old Testament where it seems the difference between their culture and ours is too foreign and unfamiliar; Jesus, covenantal love and grace have abounded since the beginning. And that affects how we read scripture as a whole.
WRONGLY DIVIDING THE WORD OF TRUTH
Many of us could tell horror stories of passages being skewed, and the marks the false interpretations leave on the lives they touched. Books like Finding the Love of Jesus from Genesis to Revelation by Elyse Fitzpatrick and Women of the Word by Jen Wilkin unpack the many ways we have tried and failed to read God’s Word. You will no doubt find your reading habits implicated in some way, just like mine were.
But we can’t press on in learning to study if we don’t first know what we’re doing wrong. If being told that your way of studying and understanding has been wrong causes you a twinge of pain, this may be because it has become an idol in your own way of making Jesus out to be who you’d prefer him to be, rather than who he actually is presented to be in Scripture.
Hold fast, friends. Don’t let this warning deter you from stepping foot into what he has to offer you in his Word.
So many resources are readily available to understand the context and background from where the words of Scripture were written as well as resources on how to see meaning and application from them. Books like the aforementioned Women of the Word by Jen Wilkin, Asking the Right Questions by Matthew Harmon, and One-to-One by David Helm all outline helpful ways to approach the text. Online resources like stepbible.org, blueletterbible.com, and luminabible.org aid with things like cross-references and comparing translations of the Bible. Websites like bibleodyssey.org and thebibleproject.com can give you a feel for the history of the people and the literary structures within the book you may be reading.
TAKE UP YOUR SWORD
Teaching your people that these resources are easily accessible to them is a comfort, and helping them to test and discern these resources is so fruitful. A Sunday morning understanding of the Bible is simply not enough for the battle that wages from Monday to Saturday. We need to be able to readily approach scripture each day of the week.
There are a lot of voices out in our world, and we desperately need a whole body fighting together—and that means each of us must know how to fight. You wouldn’t send soldiers into combat without them knowing how to use their weapons; likewise, we shouldn’t send believers into the world ill-equipped to wield the double-edged sword of the word they have been handed (Heb. 4:12). Together, rightly handling the truth, we can be church bodies filled with the true and good news of the gospel, as seen page after page in God’s Word, and this should make a difference not only within our churches but in the world around us.
When we know how to read and reflect on Scripture, the Bible studies we lead and the discussions we have gain greater depth. We begin to see how a devotional that shies away from hard texts limits and stifles our spiritual growth. We see how shallow study gives a limited view of the magnificent depths of our great God!
Most importantly, though, Scripture provides us with hope. Scripture shows us the gospel. The Torah, the Prophets, the Gospels, the Epistles, Revelation all point to knowing and treasuring the triune God. To know that God has spoken to our hearts and minds through his inspired Word ought to be a comfort to us. Knowing how to approach passages in their context and apply them faithfully to our lives shows us how to really recognize the hope we have in Christ. The more clearly we can read and glean truth from God’s Word, the more hope can take root in our hearts.
Christian, learning to read the Bible is ultimately up to you since each one of us will one day give an account to God of how we spent our days. I implore you: learn to rightly handle the Word of truth. Learn to study the good book for yourself. Don’t give up when there are so many tools to help you learn. Don’t give up when there are pearls on every page.
Alexiana Fry (M. Div.) is a wife and associate Women’s Director at Crossroads Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her passion and call are to see the church make whole disciples, pursuing the Gospel in the everyday mundane of life. She also finds herself to be highly caffeinated and blogging regularly at mygivingofthanks.com.
10 Ways to Identify True Grace
We talk about grace a lot. We preach grace from the pulpit, say grace from the table, and strive to stay in each other’s good graces. “Grace” is one of the richest words in our Christian vernacular, and yet, that’s often all it remains—a word. But is grace more than something we confess in a statement of faith? Is it more than just a word on our worship screens or in our vernacular?
Thomas Brooks was a man who not only talked about grace; he lived it. He felt the power of God’s grace and saw the effects of it in his life. His book, Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices, identifies the various schemes of Satan and the ways Christians fight against them. But just as much, Brooks hopes the reader catches a glimpse of the true grace of God—a grace that does something.
For Brooks, grace was more than a theory. It was real. It was visible and visceral. He notes that one of Satan’s primary devices for keeping Christians in a state of despair and doubt about their faith is “suggesting to them that their graces are not true, but counterfeit.”
Certainly, for us to feel that we have been “duped” by grace that’s not really there would be devastating to our faith. But God desires that we live in assurance, knowing that if we belong to Christ, nothing can separate us from Him (Rom. 8:38-39).
TEN WAYS TO IDENTIFY “TRUE GRACE”
To really live in grace, we must learn to distinguish what Brooks calls “true grace” from a false imitation. So how do we tell the difference between the two? Luckily, Brooks provides ten particulars that help us better define what true grace is. Here are Brooks’ ten statements with some personal commentary:
“True grace makes all glorious within and without.” Grace is a transformative reality. It does not leave us unaffected or stagnant, but like the breath God breathed into Adam, it rouses and awakens us to a new life. True grace, Brooks argues, is not like a lion becoming caged, where his environment or circumstances change but his nature does not. It is rather like the lion becoming a lamb. Our nature is made new by grace. The old is gone, and the new has come (2 Cor. 5:17).
“The objects of true grace are supernatural.” When we have been captured by true grace, our motivations and affections move to supernatural objects. Having a changed nature, we also have a changed allegiance, a changed mission, and a changed perspective on what the world can offer us. We now, by God’s transforming grace, seek a kingdom that is not of this world (John 18:36), treasures hidden in jars of clay (2 Cor. 4:17), and crowns of glory not made by human hands (1 Pet. 5:4).
“True grace enables a Christian, when he is himself, to do spiritual actions with real pleasure and delight.” Grace transforms internally, but it does not stop there. Grace changes us at the level of our actions. We do not act a new way merely because it’s our duty, but rather, because we delight to act in response to the grace we’ve been shown. Our service is not a burden but a joy to be spent for the souls of others (2 Cor. 12:15).
“True grace makes a man most careful, and most fearful of his own heart.” Grace has a way of turning our focus off of the shortcomings and defects of others. It levels the playing field. None can claim superiority to another in light of grace (Eph. 2:8-9). Grace does not jump to conclusions or make snap judgments.
“Grace will work a man’s heart to love and cleave to the strictest and holiest ways and things of God, for their purity and sanctity, in the face of all dangers and hardships.” There is a cost associated with following Jesus. We face internal pressure from our sin nature to put back on the old self and external pressure to cave to the world and all its opposition. But grace beckons us to behave in the world “with simplicity and godly sincerity” (2 Cor. 1:12).
“True grace will enable a man to step over the world’s crown, to take up Christ’s cross; to prefer the cross of Christ above the glory of this world.” Apart from grace, life is a quest to prove our worth and chase achievement. But because of grace, we have the freedom to boast in Christ alone. He makes us worthy. Our achievement is this: God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do (Rom. 8:3). We don’t need the world’s fool’s gold; we have an imperishable inheritance.
“Grace puts the soul upon spiritual duties, from spiritual and intrinsic motives…that doth constrain the soul to wait on God.” When our enemies Immediacy and Efficiency tempt us to despair, we have grace in our corner to remind us that Jesus declared from the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30). What’s more, the work he gives us to do, he is bringing to completion in his time (Phil. 1:6). This does not depend at all on our impressiveness. Grace frees us to wait on him.
“Grace will cause a man to follow the Lord fully in the desertion of all sin, and in the observation of all God’s precepts.” We kill sin and follow the law because we have been given the privilege to do so. The wages of sin is death, and we came into the world totally bankrupt (Rom. 6:23). But now, because of grace, not only have our debts been paid—but we also have the opportunity to live righteously, with our whole hearts.
“True grace leads the soul to rest in Christ, as his chiefest good.” Grace enables us to draw near to our Lord’s throne with confidence and comfort (Heb. 4:16). Without grace, we would have every reason to be on edge, anxious, and fearful. But His love has cast out fear (1 John 4:18). His grace is a deep breath to the weary Christian.
“True grace will enable a soul to sit down satisfied and contented with the naked enjoyments of Christ.” Grace does not leave us lacking. We are like the sheep laid beside still waters by our Shepherd; we shall not want (Ps. 23:1). He is our Daily Bread and Living Water. Grace is unmerited favor, and it not only feeds the soul but fills it. It does not need to be dressed up. Grace alone is enough.
BLESSED ASSURANCE
Believer, do you find it hard to have confidence and assurance that you stand approved before God? Are you wondering what God thinks of you and whether or not you’re doing this Christian life the right way? How the grace of God has affected a person can tell you a lot about their spirituality.
If you’re finding yourself struggling to be sure of God’s grace in your life, run a diagnostics test. Ask yourself these questions:
- Has grace transformed your nature?
- Has grace changed your perspective?
- Has grace changed your actions?
- Has grace made you look inward?
- Has grace created a desire for holiness in your heart?
- Has grace freed you from having to prove your worth?
- Has grace caused you to wait on God in your life?
- Has grace made obedience to God a delight?
- Has grace allowed you to rest in Christ’s finished work?
- Has grace grown your contentment in Christ?
Your answers will help you determine what grace is really up to in your life.
GRACE IS NOT GRAY
A final note on grace that we cannot leave unnoticed as it relates to our assurance: When Jesus died for sinners, he did not do so in part. The grace found in salvation does not vary from person to person. Calvary eliminated the gray area. There is no one who has lived a good enough life or been a good enough person to make them “sort-of” righteous. And there is no one who has been justified and forgiven who will only have access to some of God’s grace. There is no scale from zero to ten that determines how much grace we’ve been shown; it is either a zero or a ten.
It’s fitting to close with one more word from Brooks:
“We have all things in Christ, and Christ is all things to a Christian. If we be sick, he is a physician; if we thirst, he is a fountain; if our sins trouble us, he is righteousness; if we stand in need of help, he is mighty to save; if we fear death, he is life; if we be in darkness, he is light; if we be weak; he is strength; if we be in poverty, he is plenty; if we desire heaven, he is the way.”
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.
An Open Letter to Those Who Feel Unqualified to Offer Counsel
Dear believer, The body of Christ needs you. It needs your words and deeds. That is simply part of the deal when you follow Jesus. The apostle Paul wrote, “encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing” (1 Thessalonians 5:11). You are already speaking encouraging words and building people up. Now keep doing it, more intentionally, more skillfully, more prayerfully—when a child scuffs her knee, when a friend is separated from a spouse, when depression strikes a person you know, or when someone has been diagnosed with cancer.
If you feel inadequate to help others in need, especially those with more complicated problems, that is a perfect qualification. The Lord specializes in using people who feel weak in themselves, and your sense of inadequacy will probably protect you from saying something unhelpful. We are usually unhelpful when we are confident that we know what another person needs to hear.
You already know the basics of help and encouragement. First, you have to move toward the other person, which is sometimes the hardest thing to do. You have to talk together and hear what is important to the person. Next, let the person know that you have them on your heart—you are with them and are moved by what they are going through. That might be enough for one day. You have built up the body of Christ.
If there are awkward silences or if you are inclined to go further, you can ask, “Could you suggest ways that I could pray for you?” If you are concerned that such a question could sound like a spiritual platitude, remember that it is only trite if you are not really interested or are not actually going to pray. If the person is on your heart and you are praying for them, you have given them a great gift.
Maybe the person will respond by talking more about his or her life. If so, listen, be affected by what the person has to say, and thank the person for being willing to talk. Then take what the person said and try to find some ways to pray. If you want to be bold and loving, pray then and there. Later, you will want to follow up.
Of course, there is more you can do. Ask your pastor about good books on suffering, and ask others what is most helpful to them when the problems of the day seem overwhelming. You can always grow in your love and words. Expertise is not what makes you an adequate helper; faith, love, and your desire to grow are sufficient.
Sincerely,
Ed
This article is by Ed Welch, author of Caring for One Another: 8 Ways to Cultivate Meaningful Relationships. The post first appeared on Crossway.org; used with permission.
Edward T. Welch (PhD, University of Utah) is a counselor and faculty member at the Christian Counseling & Educational Foundation. He has been counseling for more than 35 years and has written extensively on the topics of depression, fear, and addictions. His books include When People Are Big and God Is Small, Crossroads: A Step-by-Step Guide Away From Addiction, Running Scared: Fear, Worry and the God of Rest, Shame Interrupted, and Side by Side. He blogs regularly at CCEF.org.