Here are four common barriers new leaders must overcome to lead effectively and faithfully:

1. Lack of Personal Discipline

New leaders are often energized by big ideas, but they underestimate the small habits that sustain quality leadership. Without personal discipline—managing time wisely, sticking to commitments, and cultivating spiritual habits—a leader’s influence erodes quickly. While discipline isn’t glamorous, it is foundational in the life of any Christian leader. The daily disciplines of prayer, planning, preparation, and follow-through build the credibility and character required for long-term leadership success.

2. Perpetual People-Pleasing

The desire to be liked is natural—especially for new leaders trying to earn trust and build relational capital with those they lead. But when pleasing people becomes more important than pleasing God, compromise sets in. People-pleasing leads to watered-down convictions, delayed decisions, and burnout. New leaders must learn to speak truth in love, risk disapproval, and prioritize obedience to Christ over applause from the crowd. Leadership isn’t about being popular—it’s about being faithful.

3. Chronic Conflict-Avoidance

Conflict is an inevitable feature of leadership—there is simply no way to avoid it. Often, however, new leaders assume that avoiding conflict at all costs will preserve peace. The opposite is usually true. Ignoring necessary conflict breeds resentment, gossip, and division among the people you lead. Healthy leadership means addressing issues early and directly, with humility and grace. Leadership requires the courage to have hard conversations, pursue reconciliation, and lead others through discomfort for the sake of unity and growth.

4. Debilitating Indecisiveness

Uncertainty is part of leadership, but indecisiveness stalls progress. New leaders often feel paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, but indecision is a decision in itself—and usually the worst one. Leaders grow by making the best decisions they can with the information they have, then adjusting as needed, trusting God with the outcomes. Leadership requires prayerful courage, not perfect clarity.

Every leader faces internal barriers, but new leaders often feel them most acutely. By naming these four challenges—lack of discipline, people-pleasing, conflict-avoidance, and indecision—leaders can confront them with intentionality and grow into the faithful, courageous leaders God is calling them to be, relying on His strength and guidance along the way.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/SQmm-h7IABg

Amplify Your Quiet Time

Years ago, I was introduced to the concept of a “quiet time.” The phrase never fully resonated with me. I come from a Christian tradition that considers volume a pleasing and acceptable offering to the Lord. The phrase “quiet time” made me wonder: Is reverence chained to silence? Has someone implicitly decided that noise is unholy?

What about the documented moments of Jesus with the Father? Jesus withdrew and prayed, which we can assume was not quiet (Luke 5:16; Mark 1:35). Consider the garden of Gethsemane and how the disciples could hear Jesus’ sorrowful prayers to the Father (Matt. 26:36–46). The writer of Hebrews indicates Jesus was noisy and reverent (Heb. 5:7). Jesus had some loud times with the Father, so we can, too.

After you feasted on the Word, what if you allowed unrefined, sincere praise to rise from your lips? When the pen retreats from the page of your journal, what if you made a joyful noise to the Lord? I encourage you to sing not only in public worship but also in your private time with the Lord. Sing the songs often reserved for the shower. Let your songs resound in your hallways. Keep a melody in your heart and don’t be afraid to let others hear it.

Melodies in the Maladies

In this life, woes and worries plague us until the Savior returns. Too often, we resort to our own will, ways, and wisdom to fix our afflictions. But what if we followed the path of the psalmists and sang in our affliction?

David sang in Psalm 3 when thousands of people were pursuing his life. He sang when he felt forgotten by God (Ps. 13). After grievous sin and deep repentance, he gave us Psalm 51—a song born from brokenness. Scripture shows us again and again that God’s people sing and pray in dire situations.

What about you? Does work place a heavy yoke on your shoulders? Has the brokenness of those you serve burdened your soul? What about your children who constantly remind you of their sinful nature? What do you do when death and disease continue to greet you at the house of the Lord?

I encourage you to sing. Singing is not a magical incantation that removes the woes and worries, but it does lift the soul. In my apartment, the hymns didn’t remove the pandemic, but they quieted the pandemonium within.

Keep Singing

“I have a bone to pick with you,” she said while towering over me. I looked up at her in anticipation of being reprimanded. She continued by saying, “I can’t hear you sing anymore.”

On a typical Sunday morning, she sat two rows in front of us and once told me she enjoyed hearing me sing. That day, she urged me to sing louder. After our conversation, my mind drifted to Ephesians 5:19 and the call to address one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. We are meant to hear one another sing.

What if, on Sunday morning, we put away the worshipful whispers and hushed hymns? Beloved, shout to the Lord so the words of your unrefined praise might encourage the souls of those around you. Turn the volume up so those watching might ask about what keeps you singing. Let the joyful noise echo through the sanctuary, because God is worthy of it all. Brothers and sisters, we need to sing more—and sing louder.

As the final days of pregnancy have dragged on, I’ve looked at Matthew 6:34 many times. What was first intended to comfort me has instead made me ponder how it can be comforting that tomorrow has anxieties of its own.

For the last three weeks, I’ve found myself praying, “Lord, I know tomorrow will be anxious for itself. I know tomorrow contains its own anxieties. How is that supposed to comfort me? I’m becoming anxious about anxiousness!” I’m certain this is not how Christ intended His comforting words about God’s tender care to be interpreted. That’s likely why Scripture is meant to be read in context, not in small snippets. What I intended to encourage me about fighting anxiety actually took on the opposite meaning when isolated from the rest of Jesus’ words.

If we go back just a few verses, Jesus tells His disciples all the things they do not need to fear regarding their livelihood—food, drink, clothing, shelter. He points out the fruitlessness of anxiety and how it produces nothing but internal turmoil. We cannot add anything to our lives through anxiousness. His point wasn’t that we should be anxious today and anxious tomorrow for tomorrow. His point is that we shouldn’t be anxious at all. In fact, He says in verse 25, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life…”

But Jesus doesn’t tell us not to worry merely because it’s fruitless—He tells us not to worry because we have a loving Father who cares for our needs, a Father who is trustworthy.

My hyper-focus on the pain to come or the fears surrounding the birthing process is rooted in a lack of faith. Just like Jesus’ listeners worried about what they would eat or drink, I worry about my ability to endure what tomorrow holds. From a human perspective, their fears were legitimate: What would they eat? Where would they sleep? You may resonate with the fears I hold. How will labor go? Will my baby be okay? You likely have your own questions about tomorrow’s anxieties as well.

Despite these concerns, Jesus calls us to observe the simplest of creatures: the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. These creatures are not made in God’s image. God cares for them—feeding, clothing, and loving them—yet He tells us we are far more valuable than any plant or animal. The question we are really asking is not what we will eat or drink, but something far greater: Will God take care of me? According to Jesus, the answer is a resounding yes.

Christ knows our tendency to worry about things we cannot control. Eating and drinking are essential, and Jesus isn’t saying they are insignificant. He’s pointing us to the fact that God will provide for our every need. A few verses later, He emphasizes that we are not fleeting like the birds and lilies, but eternal beings. Whether we eat or drink—or even pass from this life—the Lord never leaves or forsakes us (Heb. 13:5–6). Even when physical needs are unmet, our infinite value to God means all our spiritual needs have been provided for through Christ. We have no reason to worry. God is in control and loves us abundantly, far beyond our physical needs.

So why are today’s troubles sufficient? Because the Lord holds our entire lives in His hands. He does not leave us to toil fruitlessly in fear of what’s to come. He has promised eternity to believers through the death of His Son. Tomorrow’s concerns are for the Lord, not for us.

As I read Matthew 6:34 on my wall today—and hope to during the birth of my baby—I will look to my Father, who has graciously provided all things (Rom. 8:31–33). Today is sufficient for its own trouble. Tomorrow will have enough trouble for itself. But I have no reason to fear, because the Lord has me secure.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/9MQq32y2Byc

Just a few verses later Paul seems to double down on his singular focus on the cross: “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). This seems rather exclusive. Earlier Paul even insists that “the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing” (1 Cor. 1:18). Again, he doesn’t include the resurrection. To the Christians in Galatia, Paul likewise says that the cross is an “offense” (Gal. 5:11) and that he boasts only in the cross (6:14). To believers in Rome, Ephesus, and Colossae, Paul writes that we have been reconciled to God through Jesus’s death on the cross (Rom. 5:10; Eph. 2:16; Col. 1:22). He says that “we have redemption through his blood ” (Eph. 1:7) and that Jesus has made “peace by the blood of his cross” (Col. 1:20). It seems like Paul emphasizes the cross more than the resurrection.

Nevertheless, a more careful look at these texts reveals that Paul saw the cross and resurrection as intricately connected. The cross without the resurrection would be like a bird without wings, for the resurrection discloses the significance of the cross. When Paul spoke of one, he implied the other. Only when we see to the other side of the cross does it begin to make sense (see John 12:16). The New Testament never speaks of the crucifixion as an isolated event but speaks of it from the perspective of the victory of Jesus’s life. Jesus’s death and resurrection have a cosmic and scriptural unity.

This can be seen in that the Scriptures describe both Jesus’s death and resurrection as not only being “raised up” but also being “glorified” (for the latter, see John 12:23; 13:31). Additionally, although Paul claims that he only preaches Christ crucified (1 Cor. 1:23), in the next verse he affirms that Christ is “the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:24). Paul elsewhere says that Jesus “was declared to be the Son of God in power . . . by his resurrection from the dead” (Rom. 1:4). The cross wasn’t the power of God until it was transformed by the resurrection.

When Paul says that he knew nothing but Christ crucified, this was shorthand for the complete work of Christ more generally. A little later in the same letter, Paul indicates that he imparts a secret and hidden wisdom of God (1 Cor. 2:7).

This wisdom of God implies that Jesus’s death was not final. It was through Jesus’s death that he was able to offer life. Paul even concludes the letter with his longest reflection on the resurrection in all his correspondences (1 Cor. 15). Paul knew nothing but Christ crucified, but paradoxically this included his resurrection from the dead.

Reconciliation and peace come through the cross and the resurrection. Paul proclaims that “Jesus died and rose again” (1 Thess. 4:14). Paul’s gospel can be summarized in this way: “Christ died for our sins . . . he was buried . . . he was raised on the third day” and “he appeared” to many (1 Cor. 15:3–8). Paul affirms that these realities—all of them—are of “first importance” (1 Cor. 15:3). These four realities are really two realities with confirmations. Jesus died, and this is proved by his burial. Jesus was raised, and this is proved by his appearance to many witnesses.

As one author has said, Christian theology has mostly shined a spotlight on the cross with occasional light aimed toward the incarnation. What we need instead is to shine a floodlight on the total event of Christ’s life, including the resurrection.^[2] It is not that the resurrection is more important than the incarnation or the cross; rather, the incarnation and the cross are incomplete without the resurrection. Apart from the resurrection, the death of Christ is void of power.

A gospel message that does not include the resurrection of Jesus from the dead is no gospel at all. To quote another author, “At the heart of Christianity is a cross; and one of the most significant things about it is that it is an empty cross.”^[3]

Raised for Our Justification

Most people connect the term justification to Jesus’s death. Justification is a law court term communicating that someone has been declared to be in the right. If you are guilty, a judge can declare you to be righteous. By the judge’s declaration, you are no longer under a sentence, nor must you pay a penalty. Paul, surprisingly, connects our justification not only to the cross but also to Jesus’s resurrection. In Romans 4:25 Paul says that Jesus “was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.” The text can be visualized like this:

Jesus was delivered for our trespasses 

Jesus was raised for our justification 

According to Paul, Jesus’s resurrection is for justification. We have to think carefully about what for means here. It could mean that Jesus was raised because we had been justified. In this case, justification should be tied more closely to the cross and not the resurrection. Some translations even say we have been “raised to life because we were now justified” (NEB marginal note). This is possible but not likely.

I think it means that Jesus was raised in order that we might be justified. In this case, Jesus’s resurrection was not only his vindication but also the vindication of all who believe in him. Jesus was handed over to death because all people have trespassed the law of God, but Jesus was raised to life so that people might be declared righteous. The goal of salvation was not simply to save us from sin but to unite our humanity to God. John Calvin puts the point well: “Through his death, sin was wiped out and death extinguished; through his resurrection, righteousness was restored and life raised up.”[4]

Martyn Lloyd-Jones agrees: “If it is not a fact that Christ literally rose from the grave, then you are still guilty before God. Your punishment has not been borne, your sins have not been dealt with, you are yet in your sins. It matters that much: without the resurrection you have no standing at all.”[5]

In short, Christ’s resurrection is both “part of the atonement as well as being the seal of what happened on the cross.”[6] The resurrection is the decisive deed of justification, the actualization of what is declared.[7] Jesus’s death alone does not secure our justification. He had to be raised from the dead to declare us righteous. God justifies believers by not counting our sins against us and by clothing us with life and righteousness. Spurgeon rightly says,

When our Lord rose from the dead, it was certified that the righteousness,  which he came to work out, was finished. For what remained to be done?  All was accomplished, and therefore he went up unto his Father’s side. Is  he toiling there to finish a half-accomplished enterprise? Nay, “This man,  after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right  hand of God.” Our righteousness is a finished one, for Jesus quits the place of humiliation, and rises to his reward.[8]

Our justification hangs as much on the resurrection as it does on the cross. The resurrection guarantees our salvation and, therefore, is good.

Editors Note: Content taken from The Hope of the Resurrection by Patrick Schreiner ©2026. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.

[1] Adrian Warnock, Raised with Christ: How the Resurrection Changes Everything (Crossway, 2009), 71–72.

[2] Theodore B. Clark, Saved by His Life (Macmillan, 1959), 70. Quoted in Thomas S. Kepler, The Meaning and Mystery of the Resurrection (Association Press, 1963), 84.

[3] Michael Green in his preface to George Eldon Ladd, I Believe in the Resurrection of Jesus (Hodder and Stoughton, 1975), 5.

[4] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Westminster, 1960), 1:521 (2.16.13).

[5] Martyn Lloyd Jones, The Assurance of Our Salvation (Crossway, 2000), 492.

[6] W. Ross Hastings, The Resurrection of Jesus Christ: Exploring Its Theological Significance and Ongoing Relevance (Baker Academic,2022), 25.

[7] Thomas F. Torrance, Space, Time and Resurrection (T&T Clark, 2019), 62.

[8] Charles Haddon Spurgeon, “The Power of His Resurrection,” April 21, 1889, The Spurgeon Center, https://www.spurgeon.org/.

This may be you right now—slapped about in the middle of a storm.

Splashed, soaked, tossed, beaten, clinging with cold fingers to the boat while the violent turbulence makes us sick and our strength wanes.

When this is your experience, what can you do? How do you anchor your heart when the storm rages? How do you keep hold of hope so that you might find your way through?

It has brought me comfort to return again and again to the storm stories of the Bible. I encourage you to do the same and to keep your Bible open there for as long as this season lasts. In these passages, God gives us both comfort for our hearts and guidance for our endurance.

Comfort from the Storm Stories in the Gospels

In three of the Gospels, God inspired the record of storm stories through the Apostles (Matt. 8:23–27; 14:22–33; Mark 4:35–41; Luke 8:22–25). These accounts are a gift to us. They orient us in the raging waves and give language to our experience.

We read of an occasion when Jesus sent His disciples into a storm (Matt. 14:22–23). Sometimes storms are aroused by Satan (Job 1). Sometimes they are provoked by our sin (Jonah 1). But sometimes storms come because, in His wisdom, Jesus sends our boat straight into them.

We also discover that Jesus did not help His disciples immediately (Matt. 14:24–25; Luke 8:23). In fact, in the thrice-repeated storm stories, He was asleep. Yet at the end of every storm account, Jesus demonstrates His authority over the waves. He speaks, and they obey.

Lastly, Jesus reveals what His disciples lacked in the storm: faith. They needed greater trust in Him. Though Jesus sent them into the storm, His intent was not to destroy them. Though He slept through the storm, He was not indifferent to their struggle. Though He desired the strengthening of their faith, He did not condemn them for their fear.

Even knowing these truths, when the storm crashes over us, aren’t we just like the disciples—crying through wind and spray, “Jesus, wake up!” Or asking with trembling hearts, “Teacher, don’t you care?” (Mark 4:38).

Despite how absent God’s presence may feel in suffering, we know we have a God who never sleeps and is always with us (Ps. 121:4; Matt. 28:20). We cling to that truth—but how do we do so when we are disoriented and worn down?

Because these truths are easy to forget in the middle of suffering, God gives us practical ways to cling to them.

1. Keep Reading Your Bible

This may sound obvious, but those most battered by the storm often feel their faith fraying. When God seems distant, opening the Scriptures is itself an act of faith.

Even if your heart feels cold, your mind unfocused, or the words fall flat, open the Book. Turn the page the next morning. Read a paragraph before bed. Read the next psalm. God’s Word is “alive and powerful,” and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we have hope (Heb. 4:12; Rom. 15:4).

2. Keep Crying Out to God in Prayer

No, you may not be able to pray for all 18 of your neighbors this season—and that’s okay. Your prayers may feel broken, inarticulate, or reduced to tears.

Persevere in prayer, friend. Run to Jesus with your words and heart. Tell Him everything. Draw near (Jas. 4:8). Cry in faith. Call His name in the rain.

Pray the kind of prayers Scripture invites—honest, simple, without insecurity (Matt. 6:7; Ps. 62:8). And when you finish, thank God for this promise: that the Holy Spirit and Jesus Himself are interceding for you (Rom. 8:26–27, 34). You are not praying alone.

3. Keep Resting in Jesus’ Love for You

Remember the disciples’ question when Jesus slept in the storm: “Don’t you care?” (Mark 4:38). When relief does not come, when the body weakens under pressure, when the waves surge like an oncoming army and no “Peace, be still” is heard, another voice may whisper: God must not love you. He isn’t hearing you. How could He let this happen?

When that voice joins your suffering, look to the cross. And over the roar of the wind you can say, “That cross is proof enough to me that I am loved.”

Storms do not determine whether God loves us. “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us” (1 John 3:16).

Jesus—the one who first said “Peace, be still” to terrified disciples—allowed the storm of God’s wrath to fall fully upon Himself so that you would never face it. He did this so that even in your darkest days, you might know the love of God.

God loves you. He has proven it in the giving of His Son (John 3:16). Jesus loves you and has proven it in the giving of His life (1 John 3:16). And your Captain is committed to sailing with you until you reach the shores of heaven.

Find Strength in the Love of Christ

If you are storm-tossed right now, I hope this has given you a place to go in God’s Word—the storm stories. I hope you are encouraged to keep trusting the Lord by opening the Scriptures, crying out in prayer, and resting in the love he has for you.

As you do, may your heart grow strong in the confidence that nothing—not even the distress of your present suffering—can separate you from the love of Christ (Rom. 8:38–39).

For all the bad associated with this church, and for all the heartache they caused Paul, this was one of the most loved churches in the New Testament. Why?

The answer is simple: Paul never gave up on them. He continued to write, wrestle, confront, restore, and lead them toward obedience. As much personal pain as they caused him—slandering his name, denouncing his reputation, questioning his ministry, accusing him of wrongdoing (2 Cor. 10–12)—he didn’t quit. Rather, he poured out effort to instruct them in righteousness.

The Power of Christlike Love

Paul does not seem to regret this effort. At the end of 2 Corinthians, after a lengthy section defending himself, he writes these remarkable words: “I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls” (12:15).

This is an emphatic statement. Paul’s desire for them is such that he will exhaust himself—depleting all his energy and strength—for the sake of their souls.

What motivates him? There are two inseparable answers. He offers himself this way because of the Lord and because of love. The Lord has called him to this ministry, so he will obey (Acts 18:9–10). Because of his love for Christ, he is filled with love for them (1 Cor. 1:4–9). He loves them like Christ loves us—like a father loves a prodigal child (Luke 15:11–24).

Paul’s love was not abstract—it was personal. He knew these people. These were the people God called him to reach. He spent a year and six months (Acts 18:11) with them because God came to him in a vision saying, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people” (18:9–10). Paul had been rejected by the Jews and was determined to go to the Gentiles with the gospel (18:6). In the face of this rejection, the Corinthians emerge as the people God had destined to hear the gospel. Because they received that gospel, they were worth the pain and toil of correction as well as repeated visits (2 Cor. 12:14) and the multiple letters. God loves them, so Paul loves them.

This example shows the power of Christ’s love when it takes up residence in our hearts. We are enabled to sincerely love others even when they are messy, broken, sinful, and personally offensive. We love them here and now for who they are, not for who they might be. We hope they will grow in the Lord and we work toward that end, but we love them no matter what.

God Uses Imperfect Churches to Refine Us

Recently I read an encouraging article written by Bobby Jamieson in 2014 entitled Nobody Gets the Church They Want. Jamieson reminded readers that every church is broken and falls short of its goals. Every church is full of people still in the middle of their sanctification. Therefore, our relationships are challenging, our ministries are limited, and our holiness is a slow progression. Jamieson went on to say that perhaps God has us in these challenging situations for our own spiritual growth. Maybe God is teaching us patience, compassion, resolve, service, and kindness. Maybe God is refining our faith, teaching us to love like Christ—even teaching us to fight against our own pride. Too often we think we are in broken churches to make them better, but maybe God is using them to make us holy. Either way, God has us in imperfect churches because we are imperfect people, and these situations have a way of sanctifying both parties to be more like Christ.

So, what do we do when we find ourselves in difficult churches? Do we leave in search of a better church? That journey would never end. Do we wreak havoc and blow everything up, hoping the church will put itself back together better? That is both harmful and ungodly.

Instead, let me suggest that we live in the church with the same attitude Paul had toward the Corinthians: to gladly spend and be spent for their souls.

What if we had experienced the love of Christ with such potent force that we could learn to love even the most broken church? Surely Christ’s love enables us to sincerely love those who have different political views, have committed sexual immorality, caused divisions, struggle with drunkenness, mistreat the church, or are biblically illiterate and unrefined—to love the ones He loves. Surely Christ is giving us eyes to see the people of a local congregation as the ones for whom He died (1 Cor. 8:11). What if this radical kind of love was the key to showing off the glory, power, and beauty of the gospel of Jesus Christ (John 13:34–35)?

Such love does not absolve accountability. It is because of love that Paul encouraged the Corinthians to practice church discipline (1 Cor. 5:1–13). He is not advocating that the church, in the name of love, put up with those who continue in unrepentant sin. Instead, he is saying that as long as they struggle and repent, we should bear with our brothers and sisters by spending ourselves for their well-being (Matt. 18:21–22).

It is easy to complain, get angry, give up, or believe things will be better somewhere else. It is easy to accuse, despise, and ignore those who are difficult to deal with. Paul could have given up on the Corinthians because they were exhausting. Christ could have given up on us because we are worse than exhausting! But Paul, and even more so our Lord Jesus, spent themselves for the good of God’s people.

When Leaving Is Necessary

Unfortunately, not every church is worth staying in. Some compromise the gospel. Some twist God’s Word. Some permit all sorts of ungodliness. Sometimes the best course of action is to leave a church, to shake the dust off your garments (Acts 18:6). That is what led Paul to preach to the Corinthians in the first place.

But if a congregation, though woefully imperfect and chaotically organized, still loves Jesus, guards the gospel, and reveres God’s Word, then there is more than enough reason to stay, spend, and be spent for the sake of Christ.

What is Biblical Theology?

Though definitions vary, biblical theology is the discipline of understanding how an author of Scripture has purposed a particular text to be understood in light of the whole Bible. More than simply seeking to understand the meaning of individual words, biblical theology pays attention to motifs, literary devices, and structure. One of the great benefits of a unified canon is that Scripture interprets Scripture, so if you’re paying close attention, the biblical authors may tell you how to interpret something being said or taking place.

With this being said, let’s look at an example from Luke’s Gospel, focusing on how biblical theology might impact a sermon you would preach on Sunday.

An Example from Luke the Physician

“Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand,” “Peter Confesses Jesus as the Christ,” and “Take Up Your Cross and Follow Jesus” may be three distinct sermon titles—after all, they are the ESV’s subheadings in Luke 9. Certainly, it is not wrong to preach these texts independently. However, Luke has woven these episodes together so that the disciples might gain a clearer picture of who Jesus is and what it means to be His disciple.

Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand

In Luke 9:10–17 Jesus feeds the multitudes in a “desolate place.” Paying attention to language here, Luke uses the Greek noun for “wilderness” to describe the setting. Elsewhere in Luke, John the Baptist is said to be in the “wilderness” until his public appearance (1:80). Luke 4:1 then also records that Jesus was led by the Spirit into the “wilderness.”

Thus, in the context of the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus is located in a “wilderness” setting and performs a miracle by feeding the multitudes. This invites a question: Where else have we seen the multitudes fed in the wilderness? Exodus 16 recounts Israel’s hunger and God’s provision of bread from heaven. Luke uses the wilderness setting and Jesus’ miraculous feeding to highlight Jesus’ divine power to provide for the multitudes—just as God did in Exodus 16.

Peter Confesses Jesus as the Christ

The narrative seems to jump to the next pericope in Luke 9:18–22. Jesus is alone praying. Upon returning, Jesus asks his disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” This question marks the crescendo of a theme that has been building in Luke’s Gospel: Who is Jesus? This question appears repeatedly (Luke 4:36; 5:21; 7:20; 7:49; 8:25; 9:9).

Peter, as the spokesman, answers, “The Christ of God.” Immediately after this confession, Jesus refers to Himself as “the Son of Man,” calling to mind Daniel 7:13–14, where the Son of Man receives an everlasting kingdom and dominion. While Peter may understand Jesus has been sent from God to deliver His people, Jesus clarifies that it will not come as he expects. Jesus capitalizes on the Son of Man motif to explain that He must suffer, be rejected, be killed, and be raised. Jesus’s teaching slowly straightens out Peter and the disciples’ understanding of who He is.

Take Up Your Cross and Follow Jesus

In the final episode, Jesus does not allow His disciples to stand on the sidelines and watch, but they too must take part in Jesus’ path of suffering. Luke strategically knits together the previous passages to arrive at this moment, revealing both the magnitude of who Jesus is and the cost of discipleship.

Who is Jesus? He is not simply like Moses, who witnessed bread coming down from heaven in Exodus 16. Jesus is the Bread who has come down from heaven (John 6). He is not like Elisha, who relied on God to feed a hundred men (2 Kgs. 4:43–44). Jesus is the divine Son of God who Himself works miracles. He is not like the other kings of the world. He is the King who establishes His rule and reign by dying for the sinners and rising again to life.

In Luke 9:23–27, the disciples must recognize that there is none like Jesus. To follow Him is to cast off the present evil age and to long for His kingdom, “when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.”

Recovering Biblical Theology in the Pulpit

Careful attention to how Luke has composed these episodes reveals his intended meaning: to display the greatness of Jesus and to clarify what it means to be His disciple. Rightly bringing themes, motifs, and literary devices into the pulpit exposes God’s people to the grandeur of the whole canon, strengthens assurance in the unified story of redemption, and grounds the preacher in what is truly present in the text.

Pastors, we do not have to reinvent the text, be abstract, or function as content creators. We must be miners—excavating the text, its themes, constructions, placement, wording, and literary devices—so that when Sunday comes, we enter the pulpit confident not in ourselves, but in the unfolding wisdom of God revealed in His Word. Biblical theology helps us do just that.

The Danger of Passion Without Prudence

Church life cycles are akin to the development of a child. There is an infant stage, and then they hit a teenager stage where they have big vision but very little brain development to support it. Churches want to have great worship gatherings, build a kids ministry, do mercy ministry, and reach the lost—and it’s beautiful. I have served on staff at a church like this. Yet they don’t have the wisdom to accomplish what they actually want to accomplish. Their passion has exceeded their prudence.

And what are the consequences of this?

• We overpromise and underdeliver, and our people learn not to count on us.
• We spend money we don’t have because we haven’t built financial systems to keep track of our resources.
• We have staff who micromanage everything because delegation is inefficient.
• We lose great staff members because they are tired of leading through dopamine rushes.
• We lose members because they begin to see that Sunday mornings aren’t enough.

How many of our church plants or replants are in buildings with stories related to poor leadership decisions or financial negligence?

The early church had this same problem. Luke says, “Now in these days when the disciples were increasing in number, a complaint by the Hellenists arose against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution” (Acts 6:1).

What happened? The church was growing, but needs were being neglected. Jethro’s charge to Moses was similar: “Moses’ father-in-law said to him, ‘What you are doing is not good. You and the people with you will certainly wear yourselves out, for the thing is too heavy for you. You are not able to do it alone.… So it will be easier for you, and they will bear the burden with you. If you do this, God will direct you, you will be able to endure, and all this people also will go to their place in peace’” (Exod. 18:17–18, 22–23).

Passion and white-knuckling our way through ministry can be fun, but it is often not wise. Like the church in early Acts and Moses coming out of Egypt, we often do what we think is best in our own eyes, not what is best for the whole.

A Prudent Way Forward

So how can churches be more prudent?

1. Adopt Plurality

Wisdom often comes in a multitude of counselors. I am not arguing for a particular model of elders, deacons, or committees—I would just urge you toward bringing multiple people to the table of decisions who are marked by wisdom. Who are the people in your congregation that others go to for advice? Find them, buy them coffee, and ask for wisdom.

2. Audit Procedures

Take an examination of how you do things. Review your bylaws and personnel procedures to ensure you are practicing in accordance with them and with governing laws. How does your church make decisions? Does it welcome wisdom? Is it ethical? Write down the last 10 decisions your church has had to make and review how you could have used wisdom better and sought more input—input that generates more trust.

3. Slow Down

Passion often wants to go fast. Fast is fun. Yet, what is more inspiring: a teenage date to the movies, or a 75-year anniversary date at 4:00 p.m. at Cracker Barrel? In our zeal to reach people, we often go so fast that we miss what truly matters—and in particular, we miss people. Going slow in your processes and decision-making over the long haul is likely the most efficient and effective way to go about it. You will have fewer mistakes to clean up, fewer follow-up meetings, and less guilt about who you’ve hurt. So in your next big decision, ask: What if we prayed, sought wisdom, and considered this over the next three months?

4. Seek Help

My best volunteers in youth ministry were the ones who were burdened to help students avoid the same folly they had gone after. These youth workers would step into students’ lives and say, “Hey, I’ve been there—it doesn’t work out the way you think it will.” There are pastors and churches that have traveled the road ahead of you who can say the same thing. Find a local pastor in your region and ask, “Can I pick your brain about some of the things going on in my church?” They often say yes.

The greatest fruit of youth ministry was seeing your students grow older. They go to college, get jobs, get married, have a family, and create beautiful things. It wasn’t because their passion died—it’s because they learned wisdom. Like teenagers, our passion for God’s glory shouldn’t die—we just need to aim that zeal through the conduit of prudence. If our churches do this, we do more than pop up for a few years; we establish a faithful presence that lasts decades.

Where would my family and I go to church?

For about a decade, I served on church staff, so this decision was simply part of the job—a choice made through an interview process. When you work vocationally at a church, you don’t wake up on Sundays wondering which faith family you’ll join for worship that morning.

In the last year, I transitioned from local church vocational ministry to state convention ministry. My current role serves churches all over the state, so as long as we attend a Southern Baptist church within a reasonable distance of the convention office, we could live and attend church anywhere we wanted. Suddenly, we were faced with finding a new physical home for our family and a new spiritual home—a new faith family.

Options for housing were endless and included multiple considerations: availability, price, safety of the neighborhood, school district, distance to work, shopping, grocery stores, restaurants, number of bedrooms and bathrooms, garage, yard size—the list could go on and on. Buying a house can be overwhelming. One way to simplify the process is by choosing your church before choosing your address.

This might sound unusual, but for many believers, the decision is made in reverse: you pick a house first, then hope there’s a good church nearby. Some other criteria are used to choose a neighborhood, and then you hope you stumble onto the right faith community afterward.

Instead of asking, “Where will I live?” we should ask, “Who will be my community?” Believers are given a community in the spiritual brothers and sisters found in their local church. To be connected to that community in a healthy way, it needs to be local.

Having folks over for a meal, hosting a small group in your living room, leading a Bible study around your kitchen table, or responding quickly to a crisis is much harder when your commute to church is longer than your commute to work or school. The community—this family—that God graciously gives us in the local church is for our formation. Along with His Word and Spirit, His people are the elements that shape us into the image of His Son.

If this community plays a major role in our formation into Christlikeness, choosing where we go to church is of utmost importance. It’s a choice that can guide where we buy a house, which college to attend, or when to take a new job.

Followers of Jesus were never meant to follow alone. Discipleship does not happen in isolation. The depth of connection in your community is directly linked to your proximity to them. Before you pick a house, pick a church.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/f88-2wtx7uM

I tried to calculate what lay ahead.

One emergency surgery. One tumor removed, along with part of my colon. An ileostomy bag. Six months of chemotherapy. An ileostomy reversal. Five weeks of recovery. Another month and a half of radiation. When I added it all together, the result came to nearly three-fourths of 2025.

I ran those numbers one night while trying to fall asleep. Instead of resting, I drifted into worry. My mind raced ahead, tallying the burdens those nearly 275 days might carry—every procedure, each side effect, all the needles. I was attempting to shoulder tomorrow’s troubles all at once. Eventually, I remembered to pray, and the Lord graciously brought to mind verses I have often shared with others in seasons of suffering: “Blessed be the Lord who daily bears us up. God is our salvation. Our God is a God of salvation, and to God, the Lord, belong deliverances from death.” (Ps. 68:19–20)

Grace for One Day at a Time

The Lord daily bears us up—day by day, one day at a time.

Jesus said it this way: “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matt. 6:34). Each day’s shelves are stocked with plenty of burdens, Jesus says. No wonder I couldn’t sleep.

Through Psalm 68:19, Jesus has ministered to me with a precious truth, “Leave tomorrow’s burdens there; I will bear you up under them tomorrow. Leave every procedure, each side effect, and all those needles right where they are, on their own appointed days. I will bear you up when we get to them. I bear you up under your real burdens when they show up in real time, no matter what or how many they are.”

“But Jesus,” I argue, “there are so many real burdens coming my way. Will Your bearing match my burdens?”

In Hebrew, the first line of Psalm 68:20 literally reads, “Our God is a God of salvations.” Salvations, plural. Our God has an endless supply of salvations. The next line says it another way: “To God, the Lord, belong deliverances from death.” While there are many ways to die, both literally and figuratively, our God has many more ways of escape. He has stocked His shelves with an endless supply of rescues from daily deaths.

That’s how Jesus can bear us up daily. The storehouses of His heart are fuller of salvations and deliverances than our days are filled with troubles and deaths. Jesus said it this way to the suffering apostle Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).

It’s enough. Whatever this day’s burden, thorn, loss, or pain, the strong grace of the resurrected Jesus is enough. And as the weeping prophet Jeremiah experienced, “His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning” (Lam. 3:22–23). Your troubles can never drain Jesus dry. His supply of mercy and grace is fresh every morning and sufficient for every day.

Proof of His Burden-Bearing

So how can I know that Jesus is qualified to bear me up daily? The proof of His promise is found both in His character and in the burden He has already carried.

Psalm 68 crescendos with praise for the character of this burden-bearing God: “Awesome is God from his sanctuary; the God of Israel—he is the one who gives power and strength to his people. Blessed be God!” (Ps. 68:35). The Apostle Paul later quotes verse 18 and reveals that Psalm 68 ultimately points to Jesus (see Eph. 4:8). Jesus is the conquering King who has defeated Satan, sin, and death and now reigns in power with His Father by His Spirit. Our Jesus is the one who “gives power and strength to His people” to bear them up day by day.

Our hope in each day’s suffering is this: Jesus already carried our heaviest burdens, so He is uniquely qualified to bear us up under our comparatively “light and momentary afflictions” today (2 Cor. 4:17).

Jesus was grieved, stricken, smitten, afflicted, pierced, crushed, chastised, and wounded—all to bear us up under our greatest burden: the soul-crushing weight of guilt and the penalty of the never-ending death our sin deserves (Isa. 53:4–5). On the cross, Jesus bore the heaviest burden, the sharpest thorn, and the most excruciating relational loss there is to bear. His blood-stained cross and empty tomb are the proof we need to trust that He has already taken our greatest burden upon Himself.

If Jesus already bore our biggest burden, how will He not also be with us to bear us up under every smaller burden we will ever carry (see Rom. 8:31–32)? In his final sermon, Charles Spurgeon put it this way: “The heaviest end of the cross is ever on His shoulders. If He bids us carry a burden, He carries it also.”

Day by Day with Jesus

My heart’s desire is to turn each page of my appointed cancer calendar one day at a time—one procedure, side effect, and needle at a time—and to lean on Jesus as He bears me up under each one. “Day by day with Jesus” has become my prayer.

What can you do today when tomorrow’s worries weigh heavy on your heart? I have found the following practices helpful:

• Bless Jesus for being your burden-bearing God. That is what Psalm 68:19 calls us to do. Praying this prayer has sustained me: “Jesus, thank You for freeing me from my biggest burden by bearing the guilt of my sin on the cross. I trust that You will bear me up under every smaller burden I carry.”
• Ask Jesus to bear you up today: “Jesus, please bear me up through today’s pains, procedures, or problems.”
• Reach out to your community of burden-bearers. Be willing to be weak and ask for help and prayer. God’s people will answer His call to “bear one another’s burdens” (Gal. 6:2). Their practical love will be an in-the-flesh reminder of the tender, strong, daily love of Jesus.

Day by day with Jesus—this is how the One who cares for us promises to carry us.

We can see this kind of boldness on full display in his first letter to the Corinthians, where Paul publicly rebuked the church for their tolerance of “a man… sleeping with his father’s wife” (1 Cor. 5:1). Paul knew that this kind of flagrant sexual immorality must not be tolerated in the church, so he pressed past any awkwardness he may have felt while writing about sex. He had to call the church to holiness.

Unfortunately, many pastors today feel uncomfortable preaching about sex from the pulpit. We often hide behind pseudo-modesty, unwilling to shepherd this area of their lives while our churches have “sexual immorality among [them]” (1 Cor. 5:1).

I’m not saying that pastors should have a lustful urge to preach graphic, nearly-pornographic sermons, but I am saying that we need to stop shrinking back from declaring the whole counsel of God.

The task couldn’t be more urgent:

• More than half of practicing Christians use porn regularly.[1] In your church on any given Sunday, half of the men and women present have likely sought out pornography.
• More than half of Christian marriages have one-sided sex. One survey of 22,000 Christian marriages found that while 95% of husbands say they reached a climax in most sexual encounters with their wives, only 48% of women said they reached a climax most of the time. In other words, in a majority of Christian marriages, husbands aren’t serving their wives in bed.[2]

In a world as sexually confused as ours, we can’t leave our people like sheep without a shepherd. We need to speak up.

Here are five guidelines to consider how to address sex from the pulpit.

1. Preach Biblically About Sex

The Bible talks about sex. A lot.

From Adam and Eve’s “naked and unashamed” life in the Garden, the exhortations to become so intoxicated with your wife that you end up “lost in her love forever” (Prov. 5:19), Paul’s candor about sex and sexual sin mentioned above, and so many other examples—the Bible doesn’t shy away from speaking about sex.

You don’t need to force the topic of sex into a Scripture passage where it isn’t, but you do need to be ready when sex comes up to address it in an intentional way.

2. Preach Soberly About Sex

Sexual sin is deadly. The Bible doesn’t hold back and we shouldn’t either. The sexually immoral will not inherit the kingdom of God (1 Cor. 6:9–10).

This needs to be said. But if you stop here, you haven’t preached the whole counsel of God.

3. Preach Joyfully About Sex

The people in your church—married or not—should know that sex is a wonderful gift of God.

The Bible makes clear that sex is meant to be pleasurable. While Scripture clearly presents procreation as a central purpose of sex, it also devotes significant attention to sexual pleasure and mutual delight within marriage. Our preaching should reflect that reality too. When preaching about sexual sin, don’t just warn about the consequences of the counterfeit. Invite your church to the joys of the real deal.

However, sex is wonderful, not just because of this physical pleasure it can bring, but because it reflects profound spiritual realities about marriage. In the vulnerabilities of sex, we have an opportunity to serve one another with an intimacy not available in any other sphere of life.

The unmarried in your church need to hear this. Teach so that young people in your church one day enter marriage (if the Lord wills) with a holy excitement about sex, not lustful craving or legalistic trembling.

This is equally important for the married people in your church to hear. It’s easy for spouses to become roommates without regular, intentional effort. Set a beautiful vision of marriage before your church to give every couple something to aspire to in their own homes.

4. Preach Mutually About Sex

Remember the above statistic about half of Christian marriages having one-sided sex? That’s not going to fix itself. The sheep aren’t going to get out of the valley of the shadow of death without a shepherd. This issue is too deeply entrenched in the church and reinforced by the culture.

The men in your church need to be clearly called to serve their wives in bed. This should be included in the application any time that we call husbands to “man up” at home (because, statistically, most of them are failing in this area). This should be a topic of men’s retreats and marriage seminars. This should be called out from the pulpit with the same clarity that Paul called out the Corinthian man who was sleeping with his father’s wife.

Husbands need to be told that sex should be wonderful and pleasurable for their wives.

Husbands need to be told that the cultural lies about men having a “higher sex drive” than women are myths.

Husbands need to be told that their selfishness in bed is sinful and they need to cultivate real, honest conversation about sex with their wives.

5. Preach Carefully About Sex

We preach to sexual sinners, but we also preach to sexual sufferers. Sexual abuse has, almost certainly, wreaked havoc on the lives of men and women in your church. When we preach about sex, we’re entering a vulnerable space, so we must proceed with caution.

Make a plan with your elders about how to speak carefully about sex from the pulpit. What words are acceptable and what aren’t? For example, should we say “orgasm,” stick to the more generic, “climax,” or should we avoid both of these words altogether? Would the church be comfortable with “sex,” or is the vaguer “marriage bed” to be preferred?

If you think you may feel uncomfortable preaching about sex, send a draft to godly men and women in your congregation and ask for feedback ahead of time. Their careful eyes can’t control what you preach, but they can give you helpful feedback about how something might be perceived. Again, this is a vulnerable area to discuss, so we need to proceed with caution.

Talking about sex is hard. It has been ever since the fall, when Adam and Eve realized they were naked and covered themselves up. But Jesus restores the broken things. He is a redeemer and we look forward to the day when he makes all things new.

Author’s Note: If talking about sex seems overwhelming, I wrote a book to help. Sex and Self-Forgetfulness is a 30-day devotional for married couples. It unpacks God’s design for pure, pleasurable, unifying sex and helps couples live that design out by having honest, careful conversations with one another. I hope this is a resource that can equip you to preach and counsel with confidence. I also hope it’s a book you can put in the hands of people in your church.

[1] https://www.barna.com/trends/over-half-of-practicing-christians-admit-they-use-pornography/

[2] https://greatsexrescue.com/gsr-survey/

There’s something about groups of women that can be incredibly empowering, but on the other side, deeply destructive. I’ve experienced both. Some groups are healthy and life-giving; others are toxic and draining. And for women, I think this issue begins young. The stereotype of the “mean girl” didn’t appear out of nowhere—cultural pressures and psychological factors shape how girls, and later women, relate to one another. Exploring all of that would take a collaborative effort far bigger than one woman can unpack alone.

What I do know is this: women can be unbelievably nurturing, but we can also be competitive, insecure, and judgmental. Women’s church groups aren’t magically exempt from that—we’re human, after all. Being Christians doesn’t erase the cultural patterns that shaped us; it simply exposes how deeply those patterns run. So here’s the real question: can we step outside what has formed us culturally and intentionally step into what Christ offers? Not by “trying harder” or checking off a spiritual to-do list, but by living from a new identity, not just performing new behaviors.

I’ve spent time in many different groups—some filled with mean girls, others genuinely loving. Even in the loving ones, judgment can be silent, but still present. How can we be truly loving and not unhealthy? Like many things I read, I ask: what does that actually look like in real life? Strangely, my first exploration of this didn’t come from a Christian book or Bible study, but from a very secular context. Maybe that’s not surprising—God undergirds the systems of life and extends common grace to all people.

This thought process began when we lived abroad. My husband speaks and teaches German, so experiencing different cultures became normal for us—beautiful at times, hard at times, always stretching. Here’s what I noticed: When I spent time with people from different cultures and languages, I felt more comfortable. Even if I was quiet or reserved, I didn’t feel the judgment I might normally feel in my circles at home. I chalked it up to the lack of cultural standards—there was nothing to compare against. We met each other purely as people. All the unspoken rules, silent hierarchies, and subtle judgments dissolved. Even if judgment existed, it didn’t land. I couldn’t take it seriously because there was no standard by which to measure me.

Years later, I began to see these experiences through a biblical lens. As people poured the gospel into me through action, I wrestled with a practical question: where can we help women? Can we take our God-given capacity to nurture and actually extend it to one another, instead of tearing each other down?

The Paradox of Community and Distinctiveness

I’ve heard it repeatedly: women should build each other up; we should be each other’s biggest cheerleaders. And while I agree, I often ask, how? What does that actually look like? We say it, but nothing seems to change. We claim to build each other up, yet behind the scenes, we still tear each other down, creating the illusion of growth without real transformation. Outward behavior may shift, but the underlying instinct is muffled, not transformed.

God created us for community, to feel loved, seen, and valued. He has written that longing on our hearts. Ecclesiastes 4:9–10 says, “Two are better than one … if either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” Yet in our human way, we mismanage this longing. One common misstep is believing that acceptance requires us to emulate the people in the group we want to belong to. That inevitably leads to comparison—and we all know what comparison does: it steals joy and fosters unhealthy competition. 2 Corinthians 10:12 warns, “Not that we dare to classify or compare ourselves with some of those who are commending themselves. But when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding.”

On the other hand, if we refuse comparison entirely and focus only on celebrating our differences, we risk isolation. To emphasize uniqueness, we must set ourselves apart, becoming “different, but alone.” Scripture warns against this as well: God created us for community, not solitude (Gen. 2:18).

Here lies the paradox: we’re called to live in community, yet we’re built to be different from each other. In such paradoxes, I find Jesus waiting, ready to reveal purpose. The gospel reconciles what seems irreconcilable. So how does this look in women’s ministry? How can we be part of a community while recognizing our differences?

Transformation Through Christ

The solution is not outward conformity but inward transformation. We must surrender the part of us that strives to emulate and invite Christ to take up residence within. Only then can we live in community freely, celebrating differences not as threats or trophies, but as reflections of the life He pours into each of us. Galatians 2:20 says it well: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.”

My cultural experience abroad mirrored this truth in a small way. We were living life, but it was as if all the unspoken rules, silent hierarchies, and subtle judgments had dissolved. When I realize Christ lives in me, there is nothing left to judge. Every talent, every skill, every insight is given by Him. How, then, could I compare myself or judge others? United in Christ, it becomes clearer how to love one another. Even between believers and unbelievers, we are all image-bearers of God.

As women, we can come together in our differences and participate in community if our inward life reflects Christ—not just in actions, but in identity. The gospel shapes who we are. Are we boasting in gifts and talents that foster comparison, or in who Christ is in us, allowing Him to shape our true identity?

My experience of different cultures coming together, where judgment seemed to dissolve, felt like a signpost from God. But this glimpse is incomplete without the full gospel. Cultural differences may remove some standards we use to judge one another and temporarily reduce comparison, but the gospel goes deeper. Through Christ’s blood, we are united in an eternal bond, empowered not only to live without judgment but to love one another with His love. As Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35).

There’s a larger cultural shift to be explored, and I pray for the days of the “mean girl” to be behind us. Yet even in the brokenness of this world, we can trust a God who reveals His sufficiency.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/hX7Ab0xJNG0

“Those” are the days in which our compassion is tested the most. Those are the days we realize just how different we are from the Chief Shepherd. I trust you have had a day like mine. I trust you have had a reaction like mine. We might summarize it this way: I was not compassionate toward my member. As I continued preaching through the gospel of Matthew, I learned a few lessons on compassion from the Chief Shepherd.

Compassion with the Masses

Jesus had hard days of ministry. With the crowds, we see just how different and sinless our Lord is. He models the perfect compassion of a shepherd. Matthew 9:36 says, “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (emphasis added).

Jesus had compassion on them, and yet I have no doubt this crowd had a lot of baggage. Many came to Him not knowing who He was. I venture to guess that the majority of this crowd did not have their theological ducks in a row. They probably asked Jesus, from time to time, to cut the Sermon on the Mount down by a few minutes.

Yet Jesus had compassion on them. He didn’t deride them. He wasn’t frustrated by them. Pastors, we would do well to learn from Jesus’ example with the crowds. He had compassion on the masses during the hard days—despite their peculiarities—and desired to shepherd them.

Compassion After a Long Day

If anyone knew about long, taxing days of ministry, it was Jesus. In Matthew 14, after hearing of John the Baptist’s death, Jesus withdrew from Nazareth to a desolate place. Matthew 14:13–14 says: “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Emphasis added).

Jesus wanted a moment to retreat and pray—to rest and commune with His Father. But the crowds didn’t take the hint. And yet, when He saw them, He had compassion and healed their sick.

Here I see my own shortcoming. After all of the Lord’s Day events, I am tired. Yet even on my busiest Sundays, I haven’t experienced half of what Jesus did. That phone call I received doesn’t compare to a massive crowd following Him to a place of retreat. I didn’t have compassion on my church member that day. But Jesus has compassion upon compassion. Our own compassion after long days of ministry can learn much from His example. When we want to quit or when our patience runs thin, we should look to the Chief Shepherd.

Compassion for the Embodied

We are tired, weak, and worn out after long days of ministry. We pastors feel the weight of being embodied souls in time, space, and fallen bodies. But we often forget that we share this reality with our people.

Jesus had compassion on the crowds in Matthew 15:22 for this very reason: “Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I have compassion on the crowd because they have been with me now three days and have nothing to eat. And I am unwilling to send them away hungry, lest they faint on the way’” (Emphasis added).

Jesus tells the disciples that He has compassion because they are hungry—it’s been three days! Our typical Sunday morning may only be a few hours, yet even our harshest critics would have to admit the crowds’ needs were far greater. Our people are tired, hungry, and ready to rest. We should not forget that we are tired come Sunday afternoon, and so are they. The sheep get tired and may act grumpy. We can bear with them patiently, remembering that our embodied souls need care just as theirs do.

The Good, Compassionate Shepherd

Brothers, we are not as compassionate as our Lord. If our people’s righteousness depended on our perfect compassion, we would all be in trouble. But we have the gospel of Christ’s righteousness.

We have a perfectly compassionate Lord. The Good Shepherd teaches under-shepherds how to care for wounded sheep, stubborn sheep, needy sheep, and wandering sheep. May He help us to be so compassionate.

Yet in the wake of Covid, many pastors have anecdotally noticed an increase in the practice of deferring the funeral altogether. Some attribute this trend to factors such as the rise of cremation, while others point to cultural shifts that downplay social connection and acknowledge that the “beliefs and values of the organizers” often do not align with the ethos of traditional funeral services.

From the other side of the pulpit, I can relate. It is not uncommon for me to perform a Christian funeral that would have made sense to the deceased, but which feels quite alien to many of those in attendance. We can expect this dynamic in a quickly secularizing culture, but it remains true that many who find themselves in charge of a loved one’s arrangements attempt to discharge that duty as theological outsiders. The talk of eternity is unfamiliar. And as for the talk of the exclusivity of Christ, which is subject to contemplation in Bible-believing churches, well, that’s just a bridge too far.

In the midst of all this, committed Christians need to reckon with the reality that, because our churches have long neglected a theology of mourning, we find ourselves prone to rather utilitarian and therapeutic approaches to the funeral. We shirk language of loss in favor of “celebrations of life.” We tend toward eulogies that rely heavily on funny stories and anecdotes and rarely ponder the eternal. These factors, both within the church and without, have conspired to create an environment in which funerals are renamed, recast, or altogether relegated to the past: a vaguely understood tradition that may no longer serve our enlightened needs or dignify our postmodern sensibilities.

These realities communicate to the Christian conscience something more salient than mere statistical patterns or offended sensibilities. In fact, when the formal funeral is neglected, something deeply Christian is obscured. We are, after all, a people with a message of hope beyond the grave. Moreover, we are those encouraged to grieve temporary losses in service to reminding our fickle hearts of the comfort only eternity in Christ brings.

Jesus rather confounds us when He claimed, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4).

Yet I submit that this ethic could be said to comprise a vast portion of the Christian worldview. The Cross and the empty tomb make present mourning and pain bearable. In view of Christ’s victory over death, we of all people should be able to understand a funeral. It is where we go to remember that this world could never deliver on its promises in the first place. It is where we go to make sense of Jesus’ Beatitude of mourning, knowing that those who have thrown out all hope of lasting comfort in this life will be eternally comforted in Jesus in the next.

And lest we think Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount was the only place this theme surfaces, we are reminded of the reflections of Solomon in Ecclesiastes: “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad” (Ecc. 7:2–3).

That’s right: it is better to go to a funeral than to a party. And for Christians seeking to calibrate their consciences aright, we can also say that it is better to have a funeral that mourns than a funeral that ignores life-giving eternal truth.

We live in a culture that seeks to push thoughts of death to the periphery of our consciousness. Whether this is done in service to limiting “negative emotions,” “living one’s best life,” or some other therapeutic justification, the Creator of the universe has built us to utilize mourning for our spiritual good.

Christians: let’s keep the funeral alive. It is not only the occasion during which we can prompt our unbelieving or nominally Christian neighbors to consider again the end toward which we are all walking, but it is also a visceral reminder to our own souls that we will not live forever. A funeral is a sanctifying rehearsal of our own future: one that calls us deeper to Christ and asks us to contemplate what portion of our present way of living will be judged as eternally significant by the only One whose evaluation really matters.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/KDS3-wVDbFY

This is the reality of life beyond the confines of the Garden of Eden in which you and I fall prey to the schemes of pot-stirrers.

What is a Pot-Stirrer?

A pot-stirrer is simply someone who causes unrest. Some stir directly, through insults, criticism, or gossip. Others stir indirectly, drawing us into conflicts by complaining about or criticizing others in our hearing. Either way, pot-stirrers drag us into disputes we were never meant to carry.

Instead of cultivating the fruit of the Spirit, such as peace (Gal. 5:22), pot-stirrers often provoke the works of the flesh: enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, and envy (5:20–21).

So how can Christians experience peace in a world full of pot-stirrers?

Psalm 11: A Refuge in the Midst of Conflict

As David penned Psalm 11, he was clearly tempted to be stirred up by others and against others. “The wicked bend the bow,” he wrote (v. 2). “They have fitted their arrow to the string to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart.” Yet as David remembered the One who was in control of everything, he felt peace regarding circumstances beyond his control.

In verse 4, David proclaimed, “The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord’s throne is in heaven; his eyes see, his eyelids test the children of man.” By describing the heavenly throne room, David confessed the Lord’s sovereignty over all human dealings. Nothing takes Him by surprise. Nothing escapes His notice.

Not only is the Lord sovereign, but He is also righteous. Verse 5 says, “His soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence,” with verse 6 describing the consequences for those who act unjustly: fire, sulfur, and a scorching wind. The Lord is not neutral toward those who cause harm, nor will He abandon His people. As verse 7 says, “The upright shall behold his face.”

Psalm 11 is David’s confession that the Lord sees all things, works through all things, and will one day bring justice. When the wicked or unjust attempted to disturb his peace, these truths gave David confidence to take refuge in the Lord rather than fleeing in fear (v. 1).

Stability in a World of Conflict

The Lord does not change (Mal. 3:6). Christians can draw peace from Psalm 11, just as David did. We can remain steady when tensions arise, remembering that God remains on His throne, sees all things, works through all things, and promises to bring justice in His time.

The gospel strengthens this peace. Jesus left heaven’s throne to enter a world full of tension and provocation. The devil tempted Him to doubt the Father (Matt. 4:3, 6). The disciples tried to provoke Him to react against Samaritans (Luke 9:54). The high priest sought to unsettle Him with false accusations (Mark 14:60). Yet Jesus remained confident in the Father, secure in His identity, and faithful to the work to which He had been called.

Jesus’ righteousness covers us, both for when we are tempted to react and for when others create tension around us. His death assures us that those who act unjustly will ultimately face God’s justice (Col. 2:15), and His resurrection gives the Holy Spirit to cultivate peace in our hearts (John 14:26).

The gospel gives us peace in a world where tensions and conflicts are inevitable.

How to Respond to Those Who Cause Conflict

When others try to involve us in disputes, Psalm 11 reminds us that God sees all things and will judge all things. We can embrace God’s sovereignty and pray for His will to be done, trusting that we are not responsible for resolving every conflict ourselves. We can be concerned. We can pray. But in most cases, we don’t have to carry someone else’s emotional chaos as our own.

When someone challenges or criticizes us directly, we can follow David’s example and take refuge in the Lord. If their words are true, we can respond in repentance, knowing that Christ has already paid the penalty for our sin. If their words are false, we can trust God to uphold us and vindicate us: “For the Lord is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face” (Ps. 11:7).

In all situations, we can entrust those who cause conflict to God’s judgment. He is not neutral toward wrongdoing, yet He remains stable and faithful.

Guided by Psalm 11, may we live likewise: secure in God’s sovereignty and peace, even in the midst of conflict.

I was in my early twenties when we buried my aunt. She had been the bright center of our family—the one with the booming laugh and lipstick kisses, the woman who never had daughters but poured every ounce of girl-mom love into her nieces. She taught us how to be sophisticated in a fun yet modest way. She spoiled us rotten.

Then cancer struck—quick and merciless. My faith at that moment felt too weak even to whisper a prayer. Nonetheless, while we declared aloud, “God is going to heal her,” inside, we were terrified. We stuffed the fear so deep it never saw the light of day. We smiled bravely and kept hope alive, as if our positivity could influence God’s hand.

The night she died, the hospital hallway swallowed my mother’s scream. A few days later, her casket disappeared into soft Florida dirt, and something in me snapped shut. I didn’t rage at God; I just quietly concluded that my faith wasn’t strong enough. Our prayers weren’t enough.

I decided some graves stay closed because the people praying over them simply don’t have what it takes.

That day became my pattern. Every later disappointment got the same verdict: buried fast, labeled “I’m not enough,” and guarded by shame.

A dream that died—my fault.

A relationship that ended—my prayers too weak.

A sin I couldn’t shake—proof I’ll never measure up.

I became an expert at sealing tombs and then standing watch so no one, especially Jesus, would come near with any wild talk of resurrection.

We all do this, don’t we? We pronounce things dead, blame our own insufficient faith, and bolt the door.

But Jesus has never once waited for our faith to be big enough before He starts kicking stones away.

Look at Lazarus. Four days dead, body decaying. Martha greets Jesus with the same verdict I carried: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). And when He says, “Roll the stone away,” she objects, “Lord, there will be an odor.” In other words: It’s too late. The faith window closed. Jesus doesn’t lecture her on belief levels. He doesn’t measure the size of anyone’s mustard seed. He simply calls the dead man by name and death is no more.

Or the two disciples on the Emmaus Road, trudging away with hearts in the grave. They confess their disappointment in the past tense: “We had hoped…” (Luke 24:21). Their faith is ashes. The Risen One doesn’t wait for them to muster hope. He walks beside their unbelief, opens Scripture, breaks bread—and suddenly the dead Man is the living Host.

Even Ezekiel in the valley of bones isn’t asked to produce faith first. “Can these bones live?” God asks. Ezekiel’s honest answer is the only one any of us ever has when standing over real graves: “O Lord God, only you know.” To God be the glory, the Spirit breathes life back into those bones anyway. Because the quality of our believing has never powered resurrection; it is powered by the relentless love of the One who believes for us when we cannot.

I finally quit standing guard over my aunt’s grave. That moment was a defining one for our family (and not in a good way). I presented my case: “God, I don’t have enough faith to roll any stone. I still think You said no because we weren’t enough. I’m mad and tired and done pretending. Do whatever You want, but I’m out of hope.” I expected silence. Instead, slowly, gently, and over a long period of time, Jesus met me in my unbelief—not with rebuke, but with Himself.

He is the one who was buried so that no grave, not even the ones we lock with shame and small faith, could ever hold final authority.

So bring Him your grave today, no matter how you feel—faithless, furious, or just numb. You don’t have to feel hopeful. You don’t have to manufacture belief. Just whisper the smallest, most honest version of “Lord God, only You know.”

Tell one safe person who will remind you that resurrection never depended on you in the first place. Then let Ephesians 3:20–21 be the truth that prays for you when you can’t: He is able to do far more than all we ask or even think—especially when we have stopped asking and thinking altogether.

Jesus still crashes funerals. He doesn’t stand outside waiting for us to get our faith act together. He walks straight through the door we bolted and calls our names anyway.

And to Him—the One who refused to stay dead and who refuses to let our weak faith have the final word—be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

1. Repent of the Sin of Anxiety 

Three times in Matthew 6:25–34, Jesus commands us not to be anxious: “Do not be anxious about your life” (v. 25), “Therefore do not be anxious” (v. 31), and “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow” (v. 34). Anxiety has become an accepted sin in our day. It is often treated as a purely physical condition rather than a spiritual issue. But humans are a composite of body and soul. Our physical bodies affect our spiritual well-being, and our spiritual well-being affects our bodies. Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is eat, drink, rest, or sleep (see 1 Kgs. 19:4–8). Alongside these practical steps, we are called to trust God and turn from the worry that displaces faith in Him.

2. Rely on God’s Loving Provision 

In verse 25, Jesus asks, “Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” He argues from the greater to the lesser: if God has given you life and a body (the greater), He is certainly capable of providing food and clothing (the lesser).

In verse 26, He points to nature: “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” Birds wake up each day with enough to eat. If God cares for the birds (the lesser), He will certainly care for us (the greater).

In verses 28–30, Jesus gives a second illustration about clothing: “Consider the lilies of the field… even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field… will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?” If God adorns the grass and flowers with beauty (the lesser), He will surely clothe us (the greater).

3. Realize Anxiety’s Ineffectiveness 

In verse 27, Jesus asks, “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” The answer is obvious: nobody. Anxiety accomplishes nothing; in fact, it is counterproductive. Psalm 139:16 reminds us, “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” The Lord has sovereignly ordained the number of our days before we were even born. Worrying about our life will not extend it beyond the days that God has given us.

4. Remember God’s Omniscience

In verses 31–32, Jesus says, “Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ Or ‘What shall we drink?’ Or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” God knows and provides for our needs. While we may think we understand what we need, He sees the full picture far better than we ever could.

5. Rank Spiritual Needs Over Physical Needs 

Verses 31–32 show that the Gentiles prioritize food, drink, and clothing. Secular people are often preoccupied with their physical needs at the expense of their spiritual wellbeing. It is no accident that Jesus taught about storing treasure in heaven rather than on earth just before addressing anxiety. The more we accumulate earthly treasures, the more tempted we are to worry about protecting, increasing, and holding onto them. As Jesus said in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”?

But what does Jesus call us to do instead? In verse 33, He says, “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” To seek the kingdom of God is to submit to Christ’s rule and reign in our hearts. It means turning in repentance and faith to King Jesus and pursuing the practical righteousness of God—bringing every aspect of our lives under His will. Seeking the kingdom means prioritizing His rule over building our own, trusting that God will provide for our needs as we faithfully follow Him.

6. Refocus on the Present 

In verse 34, Jesus says, “Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Here, He highlights that anxiety is often future-focused. Instead of worrying about what is ahead, we are called to focus on the present, because God has given us enough grace for today’s challenges. Just as the Israelites collected manna daily, and as Jesus teaches us in the Lord’s Prayer—“Give us this day our daily bread”—God provides for each day in its time. He desires a daily, trusting relationship with us. We are to live fully in today, not wishing it away for tomorrow, and be content with what the Lord has graciously given.

I don’t know about you, but I relate to my boss very differently than I relate to my father. When we operate out of a “report-driven” prayer life, we offer up the church’s metrics and the stressors of the budget, but we rarely offer up ourselves. We begin to mimic the religious leaders Jesus warned against in Matthew 6:5—those who “love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others.” For them, prayer was a public performance, a professional requirement.

To break this cycle, we must prioritize how we engage in disciplines that stir our affections for Christ. We need a framework that shifts our posture from giving God a status report to simply abiding in His presence.

The Goal: Life with God

We need a framework for prayer that is rooted in the biblical story. If we were to trace the narrative of Scripture from beginning to end, we find a singular, driving theme: The good news that life with God is available to all who put their faith in Jesus.

Consider this “one-minute biblical theology”:

• Adam and Eve living with God in the garden.
• Abraham trusting God for a family.
• Moses enjoying friendship with God.
• Israel with God in the wilderness, the kingdom, and the temple.
• The Prophets hearing directly from God’s voice.
• Jesus entering our world to dwell—to tabernacle.

Jesus’ first message was that the Kingdom of God is here. John tells us that Jesus offers us eternal life. The Holy Spirit descends to dwell in us and build His church. Finally, the story ends with Jesus returning so that man and God can dwell together on earth forever.

Life with God, now and forever, is the goal of the gospel. Therefore, prayer is fundamentally about life with God. He has wired us in His image as relational beings; therefore, we must relate to Him in a relational way. The goal of prayer is connection to God and opening our hearts to Him, not simply requesting what we want.

Intimacy requires communication. Years ago, on my first date with my wife, we ordered our food and she began to ask me questions about my life. Imagine if I had said, “Nope! Not here to talk. I just want to eat.” The relationship wouldn’t have lasted. Why? Because intimacy requires communication. Communion with God requires conversation with God.

The Practice: Sitting with the Father

In the Gospel of Luke, we see that for Jesus, prayer was the source of His endurance. He frequently withdrew to lonely places—not as an escape, but as an essential withdrawal into the presence of His Father. The disciples saw the miracles, but they didn’t ask for a “how-to” on walking on water; they asked, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1). Jesus responded by directing them to the Father.

I want to invite you to step away from your desk and practice this specific rhythm. Find a quiet corner of your campus, a hallway, a bench, or a spot in the back of the room. For the next fifteen minutes, sit in the silence.

This is where we engage a sanctified imagination. This isn’t about “making things up” or escaping into fantasy; it is the act of using our minds to lay hold of the spiritual reality Scripture declares to be true.

Our theology tells us that because of the work of Christ, we have bold access to the throne of grace. The imagination simply allows us to believe that the Father is as present with us in this room as He was with the Son in the wilderness.

Acknowledge that you are in the presence of your Heavenly Father. He isn’t asking for your quarterly report; He is looking at you, His child, with favor because of Christ. In this space of presence, listen as He speaks to you, inviting you to hear His questions and reflect on His heart:

1. How are you doing?

Ignore the ministry stats for a moment. Look deeper than the “success” or “failure” of the church. How is your soul? Are you weary, joyful, or numb? How is your body—are you carrying tension, lacking sleep, or feeling the weight of the week? Speak to Him about the whole of your life, not just your professional heart.

2. Where have you noticed me at work recently?

Where have you seen His grace in the small, unscripted moments? Perhaps it was a conversation in the grocery store, a moment of peace during a hectic morning, or a specific verse that stuck with you. Look for the fingerprints of the Father in the ordinary.

3. What do you need from me?

Admit your needs without the filter of “pastoral strength.” Do you need wisdom for a specific conflict? Do you need the courage to rest? Do you simply need to feel the assurance of His love? Be specific about the areas where you are at the end of your own resources.

4. What do you want from me?

What are the honest desires of your heart? We often suppress our “wants” in the name of ministry, but the Father cares about the longings too. What are you hoping for? What are you dreaming about? Bring these desires into the light of His presence.

5. What do you need to trust me with?

What burden are you carrying today that actually belongs to Him? Is it the spiritual growth of a certain member? The future of the building project? The health of your own family? Identify the weight you were never meant to carry and consciously hand it over to the One who sustains all things.

I am convinced that prayer is the power of our endurance. When the weight of the ministry feels heavy, remember that the King of the universe is not waiting for your results; He is inviting you into His presence.

Step out of the office and back into the relationship. You don’t have to be a “professional” in the presence of the Father; you only have to be a son. Let the work of the Gospel wait for fifteen minutes while you enjoy the God of the Gospel. He is there, He is kind, and He is enough.

A beautiful woman with perfectly windswept hair holds the hand of a tan, pudgy toddler. On the beach in swimsuit bottoms, with cellulite-free legs and a sweatshirt that looks effortless yet classic all at once, the mother looks on adoringly as the sun sets slowly behind her. The toddler has salty curls and a gap-tooth smile, in a diaper that somehow has not absorbed any sea water. It’s a photo unlike any beach day I’ve had with my children.

I stumbled upon this photo on Pinterest today. The algorithm has me absolutely pegged. I stared at the picture for a long while, pondering what it might be like to be her. The photo itself is stunning, but what I gathered from it is much more than beauty. I saw a mother, carefree at the beach. Despite sand and the possibility of her toddler drowning, she looked more at ease than I have in years. Despite having birthed a child not even a year prior, what’s represented of her body is flawless. The sweatshirt hangs at just the right angle, her leg muscles clearly toned. Where in the world did she find the time to have such a figure? The beach looks foreign and expensive. I’m not sure how you make a beach look expensive, but this photographer has done it.

More than the envy I stuff down at the sight of her, I also admire her. She must be a mom who values fun for her child over sand in the carpet of her minivan. I’ll bet she doesn’t even own a minivan—clearly not one concerned too much with convenience. She looks like a mom who doesn’t stay up worried about the cough her baby has. She probably lets people wear shoes in her house. A picture of ease and serenity, right down to the perfect smile plastered on her face.

This fictitious mother of my Pinterest dreams represents all the things I am not. She represents one of the mothers I want to be. I’m drawn to the beauty of these photos depicting motherhood, but I stay for what I can see underneath. Even if it’s a facade, I still re-pin the mirage of mothers I long to emulate.

Pin This: Flour and Laughter in the Kitchen

A disheveled kitchen, a toddler, a baby, and a mother laugh at the flour on the counter. Her apron is linen, of course, and her hair is pulled back in a claw clip hairstyle that must have taken years to perfect. The toddler has flour in her hair and on her hands, dressed in a neutral outfit that, despite the mess, still looks cute. The baby is diaper-clad, perfect little rolls even more delicious than the cookies they’ve baked. The kitchen is my dream: perfect backsplash, quartz countertops. It’s a photo of fun, wealth, and style—ideal motherhood.

But what really catches my eye is the way the mother looks at her children. She seems to have time for them, enough to make a big mess in the kitchen and not worry about having to clean it up. She’s the mom who helps her kids learn valuable skills like cooking and cleaning. I bet she doesn’t mind cleaning up twice to teach them. She’s talented in the kitchen, that much is clear.

These moms have strengths where my biggest insecurities lie: too much focus on keeping things clean, too much focus on convenience, the fact that my daughter wears mismatched clothing every single day.

Pin This: Crying, Yet Clinging to God

A mother in a booger-smeared shirt, her hair hasn’t been washed in… how many days? Who knows at this point. She’s holding a baby who is crying. The toddler next to her on the couch is also crying. And guess what she’s doing? Crying, too. The couch she’s sitting on has piles of laundry half folded; she’s barefoot in an old wrestling shirt from her husband’s drawer. The toddler is still in pajamas despite it being 2 p.m. Their leftover breakfast sits in the background. It’s probably lunch time, but she still hasn’t mustered up the energy to make it. Next to the breakfast is an open Bible, marked with pen and weathered by many spills of sippy cups. If you could hear this photo, you’d hear hymns playing in the background.

What you can’t see is a mother doing her very best. Yes, she’s crying because this whole motherhood thing is harder than she ever thought possible. Yet her heart clings to the Lord in moments of intense emotion, toddler tantrums, and infant sleeplessness. You can’t see the quiet work God is doing in the heart of this mother. You can’t see the men and women her babies will grow up to be, having seen an imperfect yet forgiven mother who cultivated a home of joy, hard work, discipleship, and love.

We can make many assumptions about the photos we see. We can long for the perfection depicted in tiny boxes on a glowing screen. Yet what truly matters in the eyes of the Lord, the hearts of our children, and in our souls, is the glorious work God is doing through the holy and hard moments of mothering. For every Pinterest mother we crave to be, God is molding in us a beauty that cannot be captured in photos. Just as the photos we see cannot paint the whole picture, moments of our motherhood cannot be displayed in snapshots. Our mothering is so much more than a clean home or messy baking in the kitchen. The best mothers are those who have their eyes fixed on Christ and who, by His Spirit, are growing alongside their children.

Pin This: A Mom Devoted to God’s Glory

A mother joyous and hopeful as she gently stewards her children, her home, and her days for God’s glory.

That’s a picture I’d gladly add to my Pinterest board. Not because it’s perfect, styled, or staged, but because it’s real. It’s a mother whose worth isn’t measured by sand-free feet, flourless counters, or a flawless smile—it’s measured by faithfulness, love, and by the quiet, unseen work God is doing in her heart and in the hearts of her children. That is the kind of motherhood worth admiring, aspiring to, and celebrating.

Arguably, there is a more dangerous silent killer than high blood pressure—especially for Christians. That killer is comfort. Christians must be on guard against comfort, since it can quietly erode spiritual health.

Not all comfort is wrong. One of the roles of the Holy Spirit is to bring comfort to believers (John 14:16; 15:26; 16:7). Receiving comfort from the Spirit is not wrong, nor is comforting others; in fact, we should (2 Cor. 13:11; 1 Thess. 4:18; 5:11; Heb. 3:13).

The danger lies in making comfort a priority—living an easy, carefree life that avoids stress, grief, or restriction. No rational person seeks hardship intentionally, but we can wrongly prioritize comfort. We may convince ourselves that God wants us at ease in this life, so we pursue comfortable careers, homes, amenities, and retirements. When comfort becomes our aim, we lose sight of the fact that the Christian life is often marked by disciplined effort, not stress-free living.

Comfort is a silent killer because, if left unchecked, it erodes discipline, which leads to both physical and spiritual consequences. Discipline helps us set goals, stay focused, and do the hard work necessary to achieve them. Seeking comfort, by contrast, encourages laziness and undermines progress.

Seeking comfort is antithetical to achieving hard-won goals. A person desiring to be physically fit needs discipline to maintain a healthy diet and exercise regimen. Athletes who wish to improve at their sport must train consistently. A student desiring a 4.0 GPA must study and put in the necessary work. Growing spiritually is no different.

Paul wrote to the Thessalonians—and, by extension, to all Christians—that “this is the will of God, your sanctification” (1 Thess. 4:3). Sanctification means becoming holy, overcoming sin, and dedicating ourselves to God. We grow in sanctification by pursuing godliness—earnest devotion to God that fosters holiness and pleases Him.

Paul instructed Timothy to avoid “pointless and irreverent myths” and instead “train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:7b–8). The Greek behind “train” implies athletic-style, disciplined effort. Some translations render it “discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness.” Like Timothy, all Christians are commanded to exercise discipline continually to grow in godliness and sanctification.

Comfort is dangerous because it quietly opposes this discipline and promotes spiritual laziness. In his book, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life, Donald Whitney notes that growing in godliness requires actively engaging in Bible intake, prayer, worship, evangelism, service, stewardship, fasting, journaling, and learning. Each requires intentional effort—none happens automatically.

Without discipline, a Christian cannot grow in godliness, and spiritual growth stalls; a stalled Christian is an ineffective Christian. Christians are not called to pursue comfort, but Christlikeness and godliness. Christians must prioritize discipline over comfort.

Prioritizing discipline means setting appropriate spiritual goals, engaging in spiritual disciplines, actively seeking to kill sin, and serving the Lord with our gifts and talents. Achieving growth in godliness, sanctification, and service requires discipline to stay on task and do the hard work.

We must self-assess to ensure we have not fallen into the silent trap of comfort: What have you prioritized in your life? An easy, stress-free life? A comfort-bringing career? A comfortable retirement? We must live responsibly—careers and saving are necessary and wise—but we must guard against prioritizing a comfortable life at the expense of discipline, godliness, and service to the Lord.

Dear Christian, we are called to a life of discipline and labor for our Lord Jesus and His Kingdom. We are not called to seek an easy or comfortable life with all the amenities we want. Let us prioritize discipline, not comfort, so that we may grow in godliness, sanctification, and service. If you let comfort replace discipline in your life, there will be unhealthy physical and spiritual consequences.

Christians, beware of comfort—the silent spiritual growth killer.

[1] Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “Hypertension,” Health, United States, National Center for Health Statistics, https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/hus/topics/hypertension.htm.

Our Father and our God, we come before you today to ask for your blessing on these students and the semester ahead. I pray for our students that you grant them the joy of discovery in their classes, that some lesson or significant nuance from your Word would fascinate and captivate each of their minds. Indeed, your Word says that it is the glory of God to conceal a matter and it is the glory of kings to search out a matter. May that be true of our students this semester as they read, research, write, preach, and present in their classes and seminars.

But even above learning, O God, bless these students with progress in sanctification this semester. I pray they would put to death the old man with all its sinful desires and put on the new man created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness. When tempted to sin against you, may they choose you and the pleasures that are at your right hand forevermore.

Finally, I pray, O Lord, that you would continue to use this faculty and staff in significantly instrumental ways in the lives of these students as this institution continues to train and fashion ministers of Christ for service in the church and in the marketplace. Without you energizing our work, O Lord, we know that we work in vain. So, God, bless our efforts and establish the work of our hands in 2026.

Thank you for your faithfulness to us, O Lord, and it is in the matchless name of Christ Jesus, we pray. Amen.

Often, this becomes our perfect picture: find a group of friends, grow in depth, share life together… and never have to do it again. But a close circle quickly becomes a closed circle. This may be community, but it is not Christian community. One distinctive of Christian community is that it eagerly welcomes new people.

The Challenge of Christian Community

Jesus’ disciples knew what it meant to have a close circle. For three years they walked with Him, ministering side by side, building the kind of community most of us dream of. After His resurrection, they might have thought their group was safe again. But then Jesus said, “I’m leaving, and I want you to leave too. Go to the ends of the earth” (Matt. 28:18–20). The circle wasn’t meant to stay sealed; it was meant to break open.

The book of Acts describes this new reality: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer… Every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (Acts 2:42, 47). Historian Rodney Stark observes that Christianity created a culture that offered, “to cities filled with newcomers and strangers…an immediate basis for attachments.”[1]

No longer a small, tight group—new people were added every day. That can sound exciting: revival, growth, answered prayers. But imagine if that happened in your church or small group. A group of 12 gains a new person on Monday, but by the end of the week, dynamics have shifted. It doesn’t even feel like the same group anymore.

This tension presses on every church. Do we really want the 40 million people who have stopped coming to church to return? Would we welcome them—not just through our doors, but into our lives? If this is our calling, a distinctive mark of Christian community, what can help us become this kind of people?

Remember God’s Heart

Paul exhorts, “Welcome one another, just as Christ also welcomed you, to the glory of God” (Rom. 15:7). God’s heart is not for an exclusive club. Jesus came “to seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10). He has always been gathering a people to Himself, a Father eager to expand His family.

Think of parents who long to grow their family. When they learn of a new pregnancy, they rejoice, announce it, celebrate with gifts and photos. That desire and joy, multiplied infinitely, reflects God’s heart for adding people to His family—our neighbors, co-workers, cities, and families. The question for us is simple: Do I share God’s heart?

Remember How God Welcomed Us

Paul says:

Brothers and sisters, consider your calling: Not many were wise from a human perspective, not many powerful, not many of noble birth. Instead, God has chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen what is weak in the world to shame the strong. God has chosen what is insignificant and despised in the world—what is viewed as nothing—to bring to nothing what is viewed as something, so that no one may boast in His presence. It is from Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who became wisdom from God for us—our righteousness, sanctification, and redemption (1 Cor. 1:26–30).

He’s saying, “I want you to think about how God saved you and let that affect how you relate with others.” So let’s consider some of the ways God has welcomed us.

1. Without Distinction

I remember talking to someone once who said, “I know there must be something so awesome about me that Jesus would die for me.” It’s actually the reverse. There’s something so bad about us that Jesus had to die for us. The point isn’t to be impressed with ourselves that God would pick us—it’s to be impressed with God.

God didn’t welcome us based on our intelligence, success, or family pedigree. He welcomed the overlooked, weak, and ordinary. He welcomed people from broken families, poverty, or scandal. He welcomed sinners of every stripe.

This means we don’t unite with others because we are alike. We unite because we share one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father of all (Eph. 4:5–6).

2. Deeply

God didn’t just forgive us; He adopts us. Paul says we are brothers and sisters and that we are “in Christ Jesus”.

He doesn’t just give you a second chance or wipe the slate clean; He brings us deeply into life with Him.

I tell our church all the time, “nobody is looking for a friendly church, but they are looking for friends.” If people want friendly, they can talk to the greeter at Walmart. We don’t just want to be friendly; we want to actually extend friendship.

That means inviting people into our lives: inviting people to your small group, meals after church, coffee on a Tuesday, playdates at the park, dinner, camping, etc. Think: when’s the last time you invited someone new into your life?

3. Pursuit

God didn’t sit back and wait. He pursued us. The Spirit convicts not to condemn, but to draw us back. We have the same calling: to “pursue hospitality” (Rom. 12:13). Hospitality is not just hosting friends; it is the love of strangers. Pursuit requires intentionality, planning, and effort. It’s not optional or only for those “gifted with hospitality.” It’s a command and a continual pattern meant to shape our lives as a community. Are you actively pursuing others outside your circle?

Hard, but Beautiful

Open-circle community is beautiful, but not easy. Adding new people changes dynamics, complicates life, and challenges comfort and security. That’s why the epistles are filled with commands to be patient, make peace, love, forgive, and bear with one another. Welcoming others carries a cost—time, money, energy—but that cost reflects the gospel itself. Jesus bore the cost of welcoming us into God’s family. When we extend that welcome, we display His glory and reflect the good, gracious Father he is.

Let’s not let our desire for a perfect picture of community distract us from God’s heart. We are called to something distinct, reflecting not the images from sitcoms or stock photos, but the God who has welcomed each of us.

[1] Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity: A Sociologist Reconsiders History (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996), 161.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/P8EFSN04VrU

Believers were not created in Christ for this weariness, but to find rest—rest grounded in what God has given us through faith in Christ. In Him, we are justified, redeemed, and sanctified by His life, death, and resurrection—not by our efforts or fleeting human wisdom. Only Christ, and what He has accomplished on our behalf, grants us favor before God.

This rest is not the absence of a yoke, but an exchange of our heavy yoke for Christ’s light and easy yoke (v. 30). In this light yoke, we find the peace to live an abundant life in Christ—a life that rests in His sufficient work, His final work, and His everlasting work.

Rest in His Sufficient, Final, and Everlasting Work

Christ’s sacrifice at the cross is sufficient, meaning it is complete and nothing needs to be added (Heb. 10:12–14). This is good news for us. It proclaims that we do not earn God’s favor through our works, but that true rest flows from Christ’s finished work at the cross and His pierced hands for you and me.

Christ’s work is final (John 19:28–30). It does not need to be repeated for every sin. The curse of sin and death has been defeated once and for all (Heb. 9:26), and our souls can find rest in Christ’s victory, which is now ours.

Christ’s work at the cross is everlasting (Rom. 6:23); it will never change. Our redemption is permanently secured for all ages, so people from every nation, tribe, and tongue can come to Him in repentance and faith and receive the same salvation.

Christ’s sufficient, final, and everlasting work should shape how we approach our relationship with Him. Yet we are easily swayed to believe that His work and gift of salvation come with strings attached—that we must continue to earn His favor by our own efforts. This should not be so. We have been raised to an eternal hope (1 Pet. 1:3–5), given through faith in Christ (Eph. 2:8–9), and the Father delights to give us the joy of being part of His Kingdom (Luke 12:31–32).

Augustine’s words echo the rest Christ offers to us in Matthew 11:28–30: “Our hearts are restless till they find their rest in Thee.”[1] How fitting of Augustine to remind us that any fleeting moment, brief pleasure, or empty sense of achievement will never bring the rest our souls truly long for. Restlessness is a downward spiral we enter when we believe that our works can gain salvation. Yet God, who made us for Himself, was pleased to dwell in human form for our sake—for our true rest. Our sufficient, final, and everlasting rest is found in Christ and in Him alone, not in our strivings.

If you find yourself weary and heavy-laden, this is news of joy. Come to Christ. You don’t need to “fix” your life to be acceptable in His sight. Not even our greatest efforts can atone for our sins. Christ came to do that for us, even when we didn’t deserve it. His favor and grace remain wholly and securely in Him. Come to Him. Take up His yoke and learn from Him. Remember the work of Christ that leads you to His rest, where His yoke is easy, and His burden is light. A fruitful and flourishing Christian life stems from a heart that finds rest in the complete work of Christ.

Christ calls us to rest, not in our merit, but in His. Will you answer His call?

[1] Augustine, Confessions 1.1.1.

I’m not sure I’ll ever stop asking where I’m meant to go or what purpose I’m called to serve. Over the years, I’ve learned it’s best to view a calling as content-specific rather than location-specific. For me, it’s never been about the age group I teach, the city I live in, or the role I hold—it’s about serving others with Christlike compassion. Whether I’m working with children, adults, or immigrants, the core of my purpose remains the same: helping people feel welcomed, valued, and heard. This perspective has guided my choices in both life and work.

Today, I serve in kids ministry at my church. Cue the chaotic scene of energetic children—freeze frame: “Yep, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up here.” Though I had worked with children before, I never imagined stepping into this role. When I was first approached, I paused, unsure. Yet a gentle push inside me encouraged me to step in—and I was shaken when I realized the gravity of kids ministry and the misconceptions surrounding it.

By nature, I thrive with a clear, mission-oriented direction. Without it, I feel adrift. Stepping into this role granted me a deeper understanding of kids ministry and how calling relates to it: It is not merely childcare or programming—it is the future of the Church. It’s where discipleship begins, where seeds of faith are planted and nurtured. The work may seem small or unseen, but it carries eternal significance. It’s not just cute; it’s critical.

In reassessing kids ministry, it became clear that my mission is to further God’s Kingdom. That calling isn’t confined by location or age group, but kids ministry is one of the most potent places to live it out. In the quiet corners of the church, amid glue sticks and goldfish, eternal things are being formed. Yet if we fail to grasp the weight of this work, we may blink and miss it altogether.

Misconceptions About Kids Ministry

One major misconception is that kids ministry is “practice church.” These are real, eternal souls. Every moment is an opportunity to lead someone toward Christ. We equip them to withstand struggle, lean into hardship, and dig deep into God rather than the world. These aren’t just “kid problems.” They are life problems that start young and carry into adulthood. kids ministry is beautiful and weighty, playful and powerful. It’s not just preparing kids for the church of tomorrow; it’s building the church of today.

Another misconception is that you must start with a deep passion for kids. You need a passion for God’s Kingdom. Caring about its future naturally grows love for the children who embody it. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is immediately “good with kids.” Skills develop through showing up, being present, and doing the work. Scripture is full of examples—Moses, Joseph, Peter, Paul—ordinary people called into extraordinary roles. We all have a head start: We were kids once! Skills and passions grow, and God meets us in that growth.

Our broader aim should be the Kingdom and its future. Too often we see only cuteness and miss the seriousness. kids ministry is a battleground for souls, where eternal seeds are planted.

The beauty of kids ministry is that it ministers back to us. Breaking things down to a child’s level, answering questions, and watching understanding grow are glimpses of God’s transforming power. Even the mundane carries purpose. As the old Greek quote says, “A society becomes great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they will never sit.” That’s kids ministry. We may never see the full fruit, but that’s not the point. It’s about Jesus.

Don’t let fear or discomfort hold you back. Step into His Kingdom and trust He will use it for His greater purpose. When you care for God’s Kingdom, you care for its future. And these kids are part of that future. Love for them flows naturally from love for Christ’s mission. The bigger picture has always been His Kingdom, and He invites us to help build it, one child at a time. Let’s not blink and miss it.

In Mark 10, the rich young ruler comes to Jesus sincerely, respectfully, and with remarkable confidence in his own obedience. “All these [laws] I have kept from my youth,” he says. It’s a striking moment of self-righteousness.

And right after the man lays out what he believes is his impeccable spiritual résumé, Mark makes a comment that reshaped my entire view of grace: “And Jesus, looking at him, loved him” (Mark 10:21).

Jesus loved him.

I didn’t have a category for Jesus’ heart beating tenderly for a man who believed he could keep the law. But there it was, right in the text. Jesus loved him—the self-righteous and spiritually self-deceived.

Most of us are comfortable with a Jesus who loves the prodigal, but less comfortable with one who loves the self-righteous. Yet if we let Scripture shape our understanding of Christ’s love, we see that Jesus is not only kind to the hurting but also to the proud. Consider Luke 15. In one of Jesus’ most famous stories, a father runs to embrace his rebellious son after he returns broken and ruined by sin. But that’s not where the story ends. The older brother—the hard-working, well-behaved son—refuses to join in the celebration of his lost brother now found, resentful and convinced of his own moral superiority.

How does the father respond? He doesn’t scold or belittle. He entreats: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (v. 31).

It’s a moving scene that communicates a gospel truth: our Heavenly Father does not love one kind of sinner more than another. He loves both sons, pursuing them equally. One needs to be brought home from a faraway country, the other from his own self-righteousness. Both are lost, but both are loved.

When you put Mark 10 and Luke 15 together, you begin to see that Jesus is not repelled by the self-righteous. The rich young ruler walks away sorrowful, but not because Jesus withheld His love. The older brother remains outside the feast, but not for lack of invitation. And this brings a needed word for the church today.

Some of us feel remarkably free to judge the self-righteous. We spot their faults easily but fail to recognize the same impulses in ourselves. We talk about “older brothers” with casual disdain, as if their sin places them beyond grace. But Jesus doesn’t treat them that way. He doesn’t despise self-righteous sinners; He seeks them. He looks at them—and loves them.

If that describes you—if your confidence has been in your own obedience, your own righteousness, your own moral effort—hear this clearly: You are in sin, but Jesus loves you. He is gently and lovingly inviting you to join the great celebration of grace. Will you join the party, or stand outside in a huff? Will you receive grace, or walk away sad?

Jesus does not love the rebel more than the rule-keeper. He loves them both—and He invites all to come home and join the feast.

Doctoral studies is a journey, one which only a small percentage of the world completes. In America alone, census data shows that only 2% of the country holds a doctorate degree.[1] By the numbers, it is hard to complete a doctorate. Most people do not have the time, smarts, or resources to get it done. Having said that, I regularly speak with Midwestern Seminary doctoral students at the beginning of their journey, and I encourage them to squeeze themselves into that 2% of the population. Here’s how I encourage them from Matthew 22.

Love the Lord Your God with All Your Mind.

The Midwestern Seminary doctoral program is explicitly for the Church. We want all our graduates to angle their studies and formation for the benefit of Bob and Sue in the fifth row on Sunday morning. Naturally, this vision for doctoral studies attracts leaders who are already serving in ministerial roles. But that comes with a challenge. If you are not careful, you will arrive at your first seminar with a paper in hand that sounds more like a sermon than an essay. Doctoral work requires a mental gear shift. Students must learn to marshal arguments rather than make assertions, use reason over rhetoric, and learn to cite 16^th century sources, not merely 21^st century sages. This kind of shift requires time, effort, and renewed focus.

Doctoral work requires love for God with one’s mind. It will require deeper thinking, broader thinking, and more creative thinking than previously imagined. You must explore, be challenged, and wrestle with the truth. You might leave with a broken hip, but you will be blessed. Your new scholarly eye for truth and detail will enrich your church later, but it requires mental wrestling now.

Love the Lord Your God with All Your Heart.

Imposter syndrome is a real thing. Every new doctoral student feels it, every new graduate feels it, and even old scholars feel it. The truth is, we are all imposters at some level. It does no good to claim, “I’m not an imposter, now let me go prove it.” No, the pursuit of scholarship—by necessity—is a venture into thoughts unknown that we might acquire more of the truth.

Settle it in your heart to make scholarship about the pursuit of truth, not proving yourself. When pursued in a spirit of self-justification, your heart is in the wrong place. This warped spirit stunts love of God and promotes love of self. Even the language of “defending your thesis” can set you up for failure. Your chief aim when writing and presenting papers is to grow. If you present a good paper—praise God, it grew you! If you present a paper that gets torn to shreds—praise God, it grew you! Win-win.

Learn to love God first with your heart. In so doing, you will be well-positioned to receive critiques of your work. You will welcome it, for that critique is helping you contend for the truth once for all delivered to the saints.

Love the Lord Your God with All Your Soul.

Simply put, you will not finish a doctoral degree unless you put your soul in it. Your time, your sweat, your tears, your sleep—they will all be thrown into the refining fire. You will question your abilities. You will sacrifice your comforts. You will defer other noble pursuits. Because of such losses, you will want to quit multiple times over. Settle it in your soul: I will not quit.

This commitment requires a team of people around you—your spouse first and foremost. Your spouse must embrace the struggle with you. Your co-workers must know the sacrifices you are making. Your church must stand ready to pray for you. Your kids must know that your work is worth it. When you are questioning your decisions, these co-laborers need to preach to you, “Over my dead body, you will not quit.”

The truth is: you do not need a top 2% IQ score to earn a doctorate. You just have to be in the top 2% of perseverance. I compare it to Major League Baseball. Though hitting a major league pitch is considered the hardest skill in sports (much like the challenge of marshaling a clear, cogent, and convincing argument), it is not even the hardest part of MLB baseball. The hardest part is managing your own failure and enduring anyway. MLB hitters fail at the plate three-quarters of the time for a 162-game season spread out over six months. That is grueling. Like an MLB hitter, doctoral students need unwavering resolve. Will you keep going back for more? Can you keep your head in it? Can your body, your mind, and your very soul endure the slow erosion of pride?

The answer is “yes” if you love the Lord your God first with all your soul. He is the reward and the reason for your work. Put your soul into your studies as an act of suffering sacrifice for his kingdom. If you can love the Lord your God above all else, you will earn a great reward far greater than three more initials behind your name.

[1] https://www.census.gov/data/tables/2022/demo/educational-attainment/cps-detailed-tables.html

Over time, that passion faded quietly into the background—buried beneath the good work of life: serving in the church, raising six children, doing the next faithful thing.

Recently, I reread that missions classic, and it stirred something I hadn’t realized had faded: a joyful, wide-eyed awe at God’s redemptive plan unfolding across the globe. It reawakened a part of me that had once burned brightly but had grown quiet.

As I reflected on how far I’d drifted, I began praying—praying that God would reignite my passion and shape my children’s desires too. I want them to be thrilled that God is saving souls all over the world—and even be eager to join His global mission, however He leads.

With this renewed excitement, here are four simple ways we’re seeking to pass on a heart for God’s global glory.

Four Ways to Pass on a Heart for Missions

1. Wow Your Kids with the Vision

Our God is worthy of worship from every tribe, tongue, and nation. Missions begins not with strategies, but with wonder: “All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name” (Ps. 86:9).

Help your kids see the big picture. Trace the storyline. Let them feel the weight and wonder of what God is doing—and where history is headed. Explore missions together in practical ways: learn about churches around the world, find out where unreached people groups live, talk about places where Christianity is illegal, and read stories of faithful missionaries and martyrs. Leave inspiring resources around your home for them to encounter.

2. Make Missions Personal

Missions becomes most real when it has a name and a face. Get to know the missionaries your church supports. Read their updates, watch their videos, and share their stories over dinner.

When your kids see that missions matters to you, it begins to matter to them. Help them understand that missions isn’t only for a select few—every Christian is called to join what God is doing.

3. Pray with a Global Focus

Make space in your family’s prayer life for the world. Pray for missionaries by name. Intercede for unreached people groups. Remember the persecuted church.

You might set aside one night a week for focused prayer or weave these requests into your regular rhythms. A prayer guide or missionary update sheet can give children something tangible to use in their own time with the Lord.

And don’t forget to pray for your own family. Let your kids hear you asking God to make your home more captivated by Christ than by the world, and to help you be ready to serve anywhere for the sake of the gospel.

4. Give Joyfully and Generously

We spend money on what we value. If missions matters, and you want your kids to see that it matters, show it through the way you give.

Bring your kids into the process. Talk about who you support and why. Let them hear you say no to certain purchases because you chose to give instead.

Share your joy in seeing God’s Kingdom advance—even when it requires sacrifice.

A Family That Longs for His Glory

Few things matter more than helping ourselves—and our children—rise above the noise of daily life to see God’s eternal work unfolding across the world. And few things are more exciting.

Praise God that it’s never too late to be more wrapped up in His global cause. But let’s do more than admire the vision; let’s be shaped by it. May our hearts, homes, and habits center on the greatness of God and His global glory.

Let’s pass on not just awareness, but awe. Not just information, but worship. Let’s raise kids who rejoice that the good news is reaching the nations and who long to be part of this great work.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/q_pJmO57SNQ

This gym, like many, has mirrors. I understand what they’re for, but I hesitate to look at myself. I don’t want a view of fat spilling over my sports bra, the new lumps and bumps that weren’t there before having kids, or my legs shaking after a few squats. The last view I saw in this mirror was of a newly retired college athlete with no children and a lot of free time—no stretch marks, no cellulite, no double chin.

Four years and three children later, I turn my back to the mirror so I don’t have to watch a body unfamiliar to me struggle to do things I’ve always done. If I thanked my body for its work in bearing children, would that make me feel better? If I practiced the self-love people rave about, would the sight of myself in the mirror no longer sadden me? Compliments and “You’re doing great!” plastered on cellulite won’t make me hate it less. Thinking or convincing my way out of poor body image is behavior modification, and it offers little long-term hope.

But I am a Christian. I believe God’s Word is true. Every worldly idea about how I should feel about my body—positive or negative—comes under His scrutiny. Here are four foundational points to start building a theology of body image.

1. God Owns Our Bodies (1 Cor. 6:19–20; Ps. 100:3).

God did not create us and then leave us to our own devices. He created us and therefore owns our bodies. Whatever we do with them is subject to His judgment and His Word. My body has value simply because it belongs to the Lord.

2. Our Bodies Are for God’s Glory (1 Cor. 6:20)

Because God owns our bodies, we should use them for His glory. Whether fighting temptation or viewing our bodies as vessels for His purposes, all we do should honor Him, not ourselves. My body image struggles often stem from self-glorification. When I look in the mirror, I focus on looking like I’ve never had a baby, not on glorifying God. I want toned arms because I want to enjoy the way I look in tank tops, not because I want to lift my children with greater ease. My desires are rooted in beauty standards, not in honoring Christ.

3. Our Outward Appearance Should Reflect the Heart (1 Tim. 4:8; 1 Pet. 3:3–4).

If I managed to get washboard abs, you could guarantee that would come at the expense of the duties God has given me to prioritize. The reason I don’t have a perfect stomach is partially because of genetics and mostly because of the lack of time spent pursuing that physique. My outward appearance bears the mark of childbearing, eating in fellowship with friends, and time spent studying Scripture and caring for my home. There’s nothing wrong with having washboard abs. For me personally, though, that wouldn’t be the best use of my time given what God has placed before me. Physical fitness has benefits, but godliness is profitable for all things. Pursuing the Lord through what He has entrusted to me is far more valuable than perfect abs. My outward appearance is far less important than my heart. My outward appearance is so much less important than my heart. Nitpicking my body shows where I’ve neglected adorning my heart with the gospel. Worrying about arm fat reveals a heart far from cultivating a gentle and quiet spirit (1 Pet. 3:1–3).

4. This Body Is Marred by a Broken World, but One Day It Will Be Restored (Phil. 3:21).

We struggle with body image because our world—and our bodies—are fallen. Eve likely never had stretch marks in the perfection of the Garden. Our body image can point us toward our true longing: a world no longer distorted by misplaced desires and sin-cursed bodies. What we really want when we look in the mirror likely cannot be attained in this lifetime. No matter how fit we become, we can never stop our bodies from aging. One day, we will return to the dust (Gen. 3:19), but even this is not the end for us! Our bodies will still matter in eternity when we are resurrected to a glorious and perfect body. Even when our bodies fail us, more than jiggly thighs and the “mom pooch,” Christ gives us a future hope that is secure. We will have our glorified body for far longer than we have this broken one now.

Because of these truths, I don’t have to focus on my body’s appearance, what it can or cannot do, or how much space I take up. When I see my imperfect reflection, I can think of the ways God has called me to use my body. I can thank Him for a vessel that does His will. I can look forward to a perfect body that will worship Him fully in Heaven. A biblical view of my body moves me from slavery to an idealized appearance to freedom to enjoy and steward the body I actually have. By seeing my body rightly, I have the opportunity for self-forgetfulness and to exalt Christ with a body that was once my enemy.

And inevitably, at the root of all their why questions is just one answer.

Think about it: The question, “Why are we having pizza?” will eventually lead to “Because God is a good God who loves to give good gifts.” (What other answer could there be when pizza is on the table.) And if you give a few more mice some cookies[1] (let the reader understand), eventually you end up with the answer: Because God loves you and wants you to glorify Him for His goodness.[2]

Now at this point, the parent (me in this scenario) is about to face the ultimate question of reality. Yes, the original topic was pizza—but since theology is “the study of God and all things in relation to God,” as the great and late theologian John Webster said, the possibility of pizza leading to thoughts about God is certainly not off the table.

Here’s the ultimate question: Why should I seek to glorify God?

The catechumen responds: “Because it’s our chief end!” A great response, truly. And just as any parent is technically in the right to tell their kids to obey “because I said so,” this reason is sufficient for us in relation to God as well. We should praise God because it’s why He created us—it’s what He told us to do.

But, biblically speaking, and what I find to be immensely devotional, is one additional thing that can be said. Behind the call to glorify God because it’s our purpose lies an even more relational motivation to glorify Him.

Here it is: We should seek to glorify God because we want to please Him.

 Focusing our attention on the pleasures of God reframes the whole pursuit! We don’t praise God merely because He told us to. We praise Him because in Christ God has become our Father and we love to see our Father rejoicing.

As with any affectionate language about God, though, we must distinguish what we do and don’t mean by pleasing God.

The Eternally Happy God

Before anyone might think that pleasing God means trying to appease an otherwise upset deity or tiptoe around a sleeping bear, let me remind you: Our aim in seeking God’s pleasure is to seek the pleasure of our Father, who is eternally pleased with us in Christ!

God does not and cannot change. He is eternally turned toward His people in Christ. That is a fixed truth.

We seek to glorify God—to bring Him good—not because He needs some good that He doesn’t already possess or that anyone could contribute to the fullness of His goodness, but because our hearts desire the things which He rejoices in.

His desires, His will, His pleasure becomes our purpose. And in our very pursuit of God’s pleasure, God rejoices. He has actually told us so!

Why else would He say to us in His Word: “The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love” (Ps. 147:11), and, “Whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him” (2 Cor. 5:9). These verses and countless others remind us of what God delights in, for the expressed purpose of us seeking to please Him!

His very nature is to be the eternally happy God.[3] When we walk in the path of obedience, we are wading in the streams of His delights. The streams exist whether we walk in them or not; again, you cannot change God. But when we walk in His ways and seek His ways carried out in the world, we get to enjoy the streams of delight and participate in His unchanging joy.

The reason we obey, the reason we praise and glorify God, the reason we do all things is because He is our friend—and we long for Him to delight in His creation, in His people.

Pleasing God as Participation in His Delight

“Pleasing God” is accommodated language. It is to help us understand, from a creaturely perspective, how we relate to God. When we act in ways that are pleasing to God, we are not changing God—we are living in accordance with His will and desires.

Just as pleasing a friend here on earth would mean that we’re living in ways that are in accordance with the friendship and not contrary to it, so pleasing God is living in a way that accords with His desires.

So, while God does not change, we see the invitations throughout Scripture for us to walk in the pathways of His delight. God truly relates to His children in ways that they experience as pleasure and delight. The Christian whose heart has been transformed by the goodness and grace of God seeks nothing less than to live in the light of his Father’s smile.

To please God, then, is not to earn His favor, but to live in the good of a friendship He has already established. Friendship delights in the other’s good, and true friendship requires participation in the good of the friend. We don’t contribute to His goodness or happiness; He is goodness and happiness itself! Yet, we can participate in it. As we walk in accordance with His will, we participate in His delight, seeing His name and His fame extend to the ends of the earth—because He has become our joy.

Glorifying God through obedience does not increase God’s pleasure; it deepens our experience of God’s already-settled pleasure. We can feel God’s pleasure through obedience.

God does not stand by, cold and distant, waiting to see if we will earn His favor. His heart is eternally turned toward mercy, and His delight is to communicate Himself ever more fully to those who walk according to His will (John 14:21, 23).

So, in whatever you find yourself doing today—eating pizza, answering a child’s endless questions, laboring unseen—do you know that your Father delights in you already? Do you walk in the paths of His pleasure? Or are you seeking to appease a God who you mistakenly believe is otherwise distant from you?

[1] Our kiddos are toddlers if you didn’t pick up on it yet.

[2] Not every good gift leads naturally to worship—even pizza believe it or not. But Scripture insists it ought to (Ps. 145).

[3] 1 Tim. 1:11

1. Remain Diligent to the Priorities of Pastoral Ministry. Nothing shatters joy faster than becoming disqualified during the church search. Hold fast to what Paul told Timothy: “Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching” (1 Tim. 4:16). This requires spiritual discipline in your personal life, including regular rhythms of prayer, meditation on Scripture, and faithful participation in your local church.

This verse also calls you to pay attention to teaching; both to the act of teaching itself and to the content of the teaching. In other words, stay prepared. Stay fresh. Continue reviewing what you believe, why you believe it, and where you source your beliefs scripturally. Continue exercising your ability to teach. Of this, Pastor Albert Martin says, “God is not going to send down a sheet of paper on the day of our ordination which says, ‘My son and my servant, here is your job description.’ It does not work that way. It does not come automatically.”^[1] One must stay ready for the moment God has prepared for him, else he may find himself not qualified to teach, and therefore not qualified to pastor (1 Tim 3:2).

2. Remain Secure in Jesus’ Timing. Your desired timeline rarely aligns perfectly with the Lord’s. While this may be theologically obvious, it can feel far less obvious when glancing at a dry inbox, sifting through job boards, reading rejection letters, or visiting churches that do not lead anywhere. Remember that Jesus “upholds all things by the word of His power” (Heb. 1:3) and that He is sovereign over the building of His church (Matt. 16:18).

Practically, this means avoiding the temptation to accept a call out of desperation, to embellish yourself on applications or interviews, or to try to preach “knockout” sermons designed to impress. Attempts to control the process reveal a heart that forgets Christ’s sovereignty. Letting go of control releases anxiety and exalts Christ. There is joy in that freedom.

3. Remain aware of grace. Thinking ahead is wise, but the present reminds us, “From His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:16). You have not received anything that was not given to you already (1 Cor. 4:7). Your time, talents, and treasures are from God and belong to God. Your ability to use those resources is a gracious gift from God, who has withheld nothing good from you, for He has given His own Son for you.

It can be tempting to grow impatient or despondent after a long season of fruitless searching. However, God has supplied you with enough to sufficiently glorify Him (Phil. 4:19), which is where He calls us daily. To know and follow God’s will is the greatest joy.

If you love Christ, you will love His Church. If you love His Church, your joy will be found in the knowledge that you were saved from ruin, resourced with grace, and being sanctified for the situation Christ Himself chooses for you. In the meantime, remain prepared, trust in Jesus, and remind yourself of His sufficiency each day.

^[1] Albert N. Martin The Man of God: His Calling and Godly Life, vol. 1, Pastoral Theology (Montville, NJ: Trinity Pulpit Press, 2018), 401.

Psalm 96:1–3 will serve as a sturdy foundation for us to build on.

1 Oh sing to the LORD a new song;
sing to the LORD, all the earth!
2 Sing to the LORD, bless his name;
tell of his salvation from day to day.
3 Declare his glory among the nations,
his marvelous works among all the peoples!

An Act of Worship

The first truth we come to is that singing is an act of worship (Psalm 96:1). For the Christian, singing is not merely singing, but is something so much more. It is an expression of worship unto God. Of course worship is more than singing, but as we lift our voices in song it is certainly not less than an act of worship. Whether we sing alone, at home with our family, or in a chapel with our church, our singing should be seen first and foremost as an offering unto God.

Our song involves a divine audience. Not once, not twice, but three times the Psalmist calls us to sing to the Lord in this opening verse. Implicit in this passage and explicit in others (Psalm 40:1) is the stunning reality that the Lord of All Creation condescends to hear our song. What a profound thought that he would receive our songs. So we worship God not only with narrative and prose, but also with music and poetry, melody and harmony, rhythm and rhyme, notes and hearts joined together.

Let’s ask a few questions of these opening two verses to help highlight some important aspects to worshiping through song.

A New Song

First, let’s explore, “What kind of song is called for?” You will notice first that it is a new song. In the same way that God’s mercies are new every morning, each day brings new reasons for praise.

This new song is a “fresh song responding to a freshly received, fresh experience.” There is something about singing new texts and tunes of praise that causes us to pay attention in a fresh way. Crisp expressions allow our hearts to experience the same unchanging truths in brand-new ways.

Each published hymnal has a beginning and an end. However, the hymnal of the church has no back cover. The reason for this is clear. New songs will continue to be written as the Lord continually gives his people reasons to sing.

At the time this psalm was written, David could not have imagined the ways that new songs would be birthed in the millennia that followed. New songs of God’s praise expanded far beyond the border of Israel to include a diversity of developing styles and genres, many multicultural and musical expressions: the talking drum of West Africa, the high-church hymn of London, the buzzing sitar of northern India, the Gaelic psalm singing of the Hebrides, and the blues guitar of Muscle Shoals. Just as God’s new mercies visit us daily, new songs should be a welcomed addition to our ever- expanding hymnals.

Does this mean old hymns should be boxed up and stored in the church attic never to be hummed again? Not so fast! Old songs are also a meaningful part of Christian worship. With equal zeal to sing new songs, let us sing the old ones too. Scripture is replete with timeless songs which are meant to be sung through the ages. Church history contains a repository of riches that we should continue to sing. Historic hymns of our faith remind us that we are not the first generation who have wrestled, prayed, lamented, and praised through life. Many of us remember particular songs from our past that carried us through specific seasons of our lives. So, we continue to bring out the old songs while gladly welcoming the new.

A Congregational Song

The next question we ask of this text is, “Who is summoned to sing?” Here is where a particular choir takes the stage to lift their voices together—a congregation composed of every tribe, every tongue, and every nation. All the peoples of the earth are summoned to join in the chorus. The ancient Israelites would have understood this phrase to anticipate the day when Gentiles joined their song of praise to the Lord Almighty who is “great and greatly to be praised” (96:4), the One True God who is to be “feared above all gods” (96:4). This is a bidding for people to leave behind the worthless things they have worshiped in the past (96:5) and bring their collective worship to God alone. Though individual praise has its place, the singing called for here is not a solo performance but a congregational song.

We will return to this thought again, but for now let this pebble roll around in the shoe of your thoughts: if Scripture envisions people singing together, how well does your church sing together? When you think about the sound of your church’s music, do you first think about electric guitars and drums, keyboards and a choir, or does the sound of the whole congregation singing come to mind? Each person has been welcomed to come and sing praise to the King!

One of the results of the Reformation was that congregational singing was given back to the people of God. For too long, Christians gathered for worship as a choir of church leaders sang praise while the congregation simply watched the performance. The reformers sought to return the practice of singing to the church with songs in their own language. This allowed the people to participate once again in worship. If we are not intentional in our day about involving the whole church in singing, I fear we may retreat to having professionals lead worship under the lights while the congregation silently disappears in the dark. Let us see that the songs of Scripture are largely meant to include the whole congregation.

A Commanded Song

The final question I’d like us to ask is, “Why do Christians sing?” I realize this might seem like a silly question at face value, but have you ever stopped and thought about it? Of course, there are untold reasons that believers sing. We sing as a practice of prayer, to express emotion, to communicate creatively, the list goes on. But the ultimate reason that Christians sing is because we are commanded to. Singing is not a divine suggestion but a holy commandment from the Almighty God. Yet, like all the words of God, this command is not a burden to bear us down but a law to lift us up. The command to sing to the Lord sends our thoughts and hearts Godward understanding that each member of Triune God is worthy to be praised.

Paired with this commandment to sing to the Lord is the admonition to bless his name. Singing for the people of God is more than just melody making and lyric reciting. Singing is an act of worship by which we bless the Lord. To bless the Lord means to praise and adore him. So, how can we summarize an answer to the question: why do we sing as Christians? We sing to the Lord as an act of worship, together with the people of God, because we are commanded to.

A Delightful Command

Christian singing is a harmony of duty and delight. It is a delightful command. God delights in our singing, and singing fuels our delight in God. I had become a Christian some years before, but at the age of 15, the Lord gripped my heart with his grace in such a profound way that the only thing I knew to do in response was to sing. I started writing songs about who God is, what God had done, and what he was doing in my life. I had something to sing about. God’s love causes the silent heart to sing.

When we truly enjoy God our hearts are compelled to praise him and in the act of praise our joy is made complete. C.S. Lewis drew a straight line between these themes when he wrote, “I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation.” If your heart has been remade, reformed, and recalibrated by the love of God in Christ, the deepest part of you can’t help but sing in response to what God has done.

Think carefully and you will realize that you have 10,000 reasons to lift your voice. As you consider the privilege of singing—the who, the what, and the why of it all—you understand from Scripture that congregational singing is more than an arrangement of melody and lyrics performed by a group of strangers. Congregational singing is an act of worship offered to the Living God by a group of fellow believers who have participated together in Christ.

The next time a service begins, try not to see the songs as a prelude to preaching, or think of them as a warm-up exercise before an exposition of Scripture. Treat singing seriously, like something you have been commanded to do before the Lord. Join your voice with those around you with whom you share a great salvation. Sing as an expression of worship with your heart full of this divine mixture of faith and song.

Editor’s Note: Excerpted with permission from What if I Don’t Like My Church’s Music? by Matt Boswell. Copyright by 9Marks, published by Crossway.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/vlmX7ltT7vo

The Christian life is learned in community. We need models of godliness in action. But what kind of examples should we look for, and what kind of example should we aim to be? Here are four traits of ordinary godliness worth noticing and imitating.

Joyful Obedience to God 

Not all obedience is the same. Jesus warns in Matthew 6 against obedience that seeks attention: “Whenever you give to the poor, don’t sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do” (Matt. 6:2). Others obey the way children sometimes obey their parents—grudgingly, simply to avoid punishment.

The examples we imitate should be marked by joyful obedience. Attitude matters. Look for people who serve quietly, put chairs away without being asked, and do so with glad hearts. Scripture says, “Happy are those who keep his decrees and seek him with all their heart” (Ps. 119:2). Godliness is not merely compliance; it is delight.

Fierce Commitment to Orthodoxy

Orthodoxy means right belief, and right belief matters. A church filled with kind people but deliberately corrupted theology is not a godly church. Truth and godliness always belong together.

Paul is clear about this as he entrusts ministry to Timothy: “Hold on to the pattern of sound teaching that you have heard from me… Guard the good deposit through the Holy Spirit who lives in us” (2 Tim. 1:13–14). Godly examples are people who know their Bibles, love sound doctrine, and resolve to hold fast to the gospel.

Love for the Local Church 

Jesus loves the church, and his disciples share that love. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35).

Every church is imperfect. Jesus knows this—and still loves his bride. If He can love our churches, then so can we. We should be wary of those who speak constantly and exclusively about their church’s flaws. That posture breeds pride and bitterness. Paul provides a better model. His letters to Corinth contain strong rebuke, yet they are framed by gratitude and affection: “I always thank my God for you” (1 Cor. 1:4), and “My love be with all of you in Christ Jesus” (1 Cor. 16:24). People who love the church help us love Jesus.

Humbly Receiving Correction 

How we receive correction reveals much about our character. Even faithful Christians can drift out of step with the gospel, as Peter did in Antioch (Gal. 2:11–14). God graciously uses correction to restore us.

Sometimes that correction comes through reading our Bible or hearing a sermon. Sometimes over coffee with a friend, or even an innocent conversation with your son. However it comes, receive it with gratitude because it shows that God is caring for me like a father for a son (Heb. 12:7).

I once watched my pastor receive unsolicited feedback between services from a visiting attendee. His sermon—prepared with prayer and care—was being critiqued. A pastor’s sermon is precious to him. He spends all week prayerfully putting it together and now a random visitor was offering correction.

How my pastor responded was a model of receiving correction with humility. He didn’t get defensive or dismissive—he listened well. Even though he didn’t agree with every point, he thanked the visitor for his insight and acknowledged this conversation with gratitude.

Godly people don’t have everything figured out. They are teachable.

Ordinary Godliness, Together

Apart from Jesus, no one is the perfect example. Thankfully, we don’t need perfect models. As others watch us follow Christ in our brokenness, they learn how to follow him in theirs.

This collage of imperfect yet faithful believers—pursuing Christ together—is where ordinary godliness is most clearly seen. Pay attention. Learn from them. And follow Jesus.

How do I care for my husband when he is sick more than he is well?

I asked myself this question as I sat beside my husband in his hospital room, feeling the weight of living in a sin-cursed world press down on both of us.

Three years into our marriage, this wasn’t what I imagined our life together would look like. On our wedding day, at twenty and twenty-one, the words “in sickness and in health” didn’t feel heavy or serious. They sounded more like promises to fetch cold medicine for sniffles or hand over Tums for an upset stomach.

Most young, healthy couples don’t imagine that these words will be tested in a hospital room just a few years into marriage. Yet there we were, staring at the fleeting reality of life, and I realized I had promised to love and care for my husband “in sickness and in health”—and I had no idea how to do the former.

Facing the Unknown

I had seen my husband sick quite a few times as we served overseas as missionaries in a third-world country. I heard him giving up the entire contents of his stomach on various occasions, and I felt the fever on his forehead as his body fought off a variety of illnesses. Those moments of sickness felt like just that—moments. They passed with the help of antibiotics, fluids, and naps. We were young and living in a third-world country where that kind of sickness was normal. I knew what to do in those moments: give him plenty of water, take him to get more antibiotics, make some light-hearted jokes, and move on.

But when my husband was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease after months of sickness and a week-long hospital stay, I found myself at a loss. This was not a stomach bug or the common cold. This had no easy fix—and still has no easy fix. This was night after night of vomiting, weeks of losing blood and increasing weakness, and waking up in the middle of the night to a pain-ridden, feverish, shaking husband, feeling helpless and afraid. This was spending a week in the hospital trying to figure out why his body was failing him.

Yet I was confronted and comforted by the truths of Isaiah 26:3: “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.”

During my husband’s week-long hospital stay, I repeatedly thought, “This isn’t how it was meant to be.” Our hearts felt drawn to despair as we sat in that hospital room, but thankfully, years of hearing and learning the truth about God, his sovereignty, and his promises were in our hearts. Scripture passages about suffering and pain that had been tucked away for a rainy day became real, and we clung to them. God’s Word became a refuge as we faced the unknown.

Steadfastness in Trials

As we faced the unknown, the words of James shone true: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (Jas. 1:2–4).

Steadfastness. Endurance. The Lord gave it in abundance. We made it through days of physical pain and the spiritual pain that comes with watching your best friend suffer. We weren’t expecting my husband to die that week in the hospital, but not knowing what his diagnosis was at the time brought forth a conversation I didn’t think we would have in our twenties. The unknowns were looming over us: How serious is this? Is it curable, or is it terminal?

We were heading for despair, but again, the Lord was kind as years of abiding in his Word bore the fruit of hope. We both knew that even if the worst happened, our hope was secure in Christ. He would faithfully carry us through whatever lay ahead. He did—and he continues to—as we face a future battling a chronic illness.

As my husband and I have been faced with the harsh reality of our finiteness, Paul’s words have been a comfort: “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:16–17).

Grieving Properly with Bright Hope for Tomorrow

I just finished reading the Wingfeather Saga for the second time and love how stories we’ve read before can give us fresh insights and emotions during different seasons of life. The youngest character in the story, Leeli, is confronted with the death of her beloved dog, Nugget, and the brokenness of their overall situation. Her brother observes her in her grief and notes, “She seemed older, no longer shocked that such a thing could happen in the world, but heartbroken because it had. Her tears struck Janner as the right kind of tears.”

Later, he notices how their current sufferings were already shaping something good in his sister: “Podo and Leeli finally came back to where the others rested, and though her face still bore the weight of her sorrow, Janner could see that his sister was present. Her eyes didn’t stare into nothing. They saw the situation, grieved for it, and faced it.”

Her tears were right and good. It’s not wrong to grieve what ought to be grieved! Death and suffering were not a part of God’s original design and good creation. Sin brought pain, suffering, and death. So we grieve what God does not call good, but we don’t become stuck in our grief. Like Leeli, we shed the right kind of tears. We grieve, but we face it. And thankfully, as believers, we do not grieve like the world does because we have hope that one day all will be made right. One day, my husband, Brett, will be in eternity with a body that is no longer broken and no longer causes pain and suffering, because his body will be like God intended it to be.

This side of eternity, I seek to care for Brett in sickness by relying on the grace of God to give me the strength to be compassionate and servant-hearted toward him on the hard days. I grieve the loss of health and take that grief before the Lord, knowing that he is the God of all comfort. However, I don’t remain in that grief because the hope of eternity is in my heart. Saying our vows almost nine years ago, I did not think this would be my lot. Even so, it is well with my soul.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/6PSsmIeFkoQ

My son said this to me as he jumped into my arms when we were walking through a neighborhood full of shockingly creepy Halloween decorations. There was a robotic werewolf wrestling against the bars of a cage, shrouded in haze and flashing lights.

“That’s okay, my son. I’ve still got you.” It warmed my heart; my son is still small enough for me to carry him even though he’s freshly smart enough to articulate his inner life.

Insecurity grasping for security isn’t an emotional experience that we ever truly outgrow. Many experienced followers of Jesus, at every age, grapple with a sense of self that is fractured, unstable, and too easily subjected to circumstances. The stress that ensues steals our sleep, interrupts our relationships, and leads to both over-functioning (anxiety) and under-functioning (depression).

We often try to treat the symptoms without dealing with the root of the issue: our lack of secure connection to our Father in heaven. The insecurity that haunts our psyches is something we ought to seek to repent of—not necessarily the feeling itself, but the underlying unbelief that creates it—rather than make peace with it, treat it as normal or inevitable. Attacking insecurity involves three things: submitting to our status as the Father’s adopted children, operating in integrity in relationship with our siblings, and fighting our fear of man with the fear of the Lord.

Our Status as Adopted Children

Our feelings tell us the truth about how we’re making sense of the world around us. When our house is built on a poor foundation and we see the floods rising, our heart rate spikes, worry pours forth, and panic tears through our once-quiet mind. This disorienting and uncomfortable experience can revel the sad fact that we’ve built our lives not upon Christ, but sinking sands—things like money, the approval of peers, and self-righteousness.

These moments should trigger reflection: upon what—or whom—have I built my life? Where have I placed my confidence? I was feeling secure, but that source of security is now under siege, proving itself to be an illusion. This newfound fragility is, in that sense, sober disillusionment.

Do I believe my Father in Heaven owns the cattle on a thousand hills? Do I really believe I am His irrevocable heir? Do I sincerely believe I’ve been made a child of God by sheer grace? Do I functionally place my hope in the finished work of Jesus and his coming new creation?

I have a friend whose Father is incredibly wealthy. On the one hand, my friend is comforted by this; on the other hand, he hates this. He likes knowing he has no reason to be afraid of financial ruin, but he doesn’t like that he can’t take credit for being a self-made man. There is a holy swagger that looks like a paradox of fearlessness and humility that emerges when we submit to the status our Father has assigned to us as his children. We have everything we need, so we’re secure; and we know we’ve earned none of it, so we’re grateful.

Our insecurity reveals the truth about how secure we are in Christ.

Operating in Integrity

It is one thing to think and believe rightly about our Father in Heaven. It is another to live out that truth in our relationships with our brothers and sisters. Often, insecurity is downstream from a fractured sense of self. We behave one way in public, another in private—acting out one identity at home, another at work, another online, another at the gym, and yet another in the group chat. This fractured and disintegrated self creates anxiety because there is a chronic fear that worlds will collide and embarrassment will ensue.

One of the overlooked “survival response” mechanisms is fawn. We may be familiar with fight, flight, and freeze, but fawn is acting in such a way that we earn the approval of the person who we are looking to for security—especially when we compromise our integrity in doing so. We act out a false self to please others, because our sense of worth depends on theirs. We lie about ourselves with our words and actions to take hold of momentary relief from awkwardness, fear of abandonment, and disapproval.

Stepping towards integration—being an authentic, congruent self in every environment—is painful because it requires confessing our lack of integrity. This is partly why confessing your sin is healing (Jas. 5:16): it bridges separated relational realties and brings what is in the dark into the light. It’s rejecting the temptation to have multiple identities in favor of having one identity, rooted and grounded in love. This is a risk because we might be rejected. But the reward is integrity and the possibility of a genuine relationship in which we’re known and loved, not falsely known and loved. Therein legitimate security is found.

Fighting Fear with Fear

There is much we can fear. Fear is opposed to security because it signals that something we love is being threatened. The solution to fears that create insecurity is not merely to become less fearful, but to fear rightly. “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt. 10:28). This fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, the starting point for living God’s Word with skill and balance.

When we fear the Lord, we’re aware of his presence and authority. When we learn about the One whom we fear, we find that He is “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin” (Exod. 34:6–7). When we are attuned to the opinions of the gracious and merciful Triune Godhead above all other perspectives, we find that security naturally emerges, because the One who does not change has bestowed on us a dignity, purpose, and value that cannot be shaken.

Jump In

Insecurity isn’t itself sinful, but it is downstream from sin: from living a fractured life, resisting our adopted status given by the Father, and from allowing disordered fears to supersede our fear of God. When we labor to repent of the causes of our insecurity, our sense of self comes into alignment with reality as we embrace a sober, Spirit-filled, and truly integrated identity.

As securely attached children jump into the arms of their fathers when fears arise, so also we lean into the arms of God Most High, whose Spirit assures us of His presence and reminds us not just of who we are, but of whose we are: “That’s okay, my son. I’ve still got you.”

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/gRdl2HFXJAQ

Pastors, as platitudinous as this sounds—we were made for this moment. We are pastoring in one of the most seismic socio-cultural shifts at scale that the world has ever seen. We are guiding souls across the “new Roman roads” of a global age. Yes, it’s complex, confusing, and exhausting, but the essence of our job description remains, transcending the shifting sands of time—shepherding and feeding the flock, connecting with and confronting cultural narratives, and fulfilling the longings of an unsatisfied age. So it should be impossible to hear this encouragement as overly simplistic, arrogant, or even ignorant. Pastors, we were made for this moment. Let us now consider for a moment how we are to respond.

At the beginning of his letter to Titus, Paul gives a sweeping declaration of who he is and what the Lord has called him to do. He was set to live and lead into his moment in redemptive history. Now pastor, a great confidence should arise from Paul’s words, “before the ages began.” This changes everything about what we do, because it means that our work is woven into a timeless covenant propelled forward by a sending God—three in one—with a plan, an eternal plan to redeem. A missionary God coming to a people, His church, to bring them into His work. And we, pastors, like Paul, get to do what the entire cosmos hangs in the balance upon—preach His Word, “entrusted by command of God our Savior,” with the “grace and peace” given to us in Christ.

Paul goes on in his letter to exhort Titus to teach new believers “to adorn the doctrine of God our Savior” (Titus 2:10). But can something so grand and glorious as the gospel be improved? What does it mean to adorn it? Charles Spurgeon helped get at the question when he said that, “The gospel is best adorned when most unadorned.”^[1] We need a little bit more, so maybe a picture from home will illustrate.

My wife has a knack for “urban treasure hunting.” Step into the dim, golden glow of our living room—books and trinkets from around the world—yet nothing stands out more vibrantly than a 19th-century Victorian painting. Meet Bianca, an elegant woman complete in form, substance, and beauty. Yet what allows Bianca’s Victorian majesty to shine is actually the frame: gilded, regal, floral in pattern, perfectly complementary.

The frame doesn’t steal from the glory of the painting; it adorns it.

As we read on we see that this is Paul’s point. Believers are to display its beauty through the way that they live. It is this witness that makes the gospel truly shine. Pastor, let us consider our work of adorning the gospel in three movements—training, waiting, and declaring. And I want to give you a glimpse of how each one of these is at work in a part of the world renowned for its grandeur and indescribable beauty. A place that is spilling over with common grace, set within a meticulously crafted, Baroque-lined frame. Can the doctrine of God our Savior really be adorned in a place like this?

Grace Trains Us

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions” (Titus 2:11–12).

Grace has appeared. Grace is a person—Grace is Jesus, who pitched His tent and tabernacled among us (John 1:14).

Grace isn’t a detached gift given by God; grace is personified and He has come to us. This changes everything about our ministry—our preaching, our care of souls, our equipping of the saints. And it is through His training that He is bringing salvation for all people. To put it simply, our work is about displaying His rescue plan by our conduct. And as we labor, emitting the aroma of His love through our joy, mercy toward enemies, integrity, patience, and forgiveness, we show our people that adorning the doctrine of God our Savior is worth giving our lives to. Grace trains.

One living example of grace training a people appears in the 5th Arrondissement of Paris—one of the most consequential neighborhoods in the post-Christian West. A collision course of culture and history—Roman ruins, Baroque-lined streets, an influential university shaping Western thought. A place where the beating drum of expressive individualism finds some of its earliest articulations, where the mantras of our age were formed: “live your truth,” “you do you.” But its allure cannot satisfy.

In 2025, people are tired, lonely, and parched from moral disarray. They need to encounter grace that trains. This is exactly God’s plan for the 5th through the birth of a new evangelical church: L’Eglise de la Montagne. Housed in an old cinema, the training begins on Launch Sunday in full and glorious display. Pastor Philip Moore stands at the entrance, black-rimmed spectacles and warm grin, welcoming guests into a lobby permeated with the sweet smell of pastries and coffee. The theater fills. Praises ascend in French. A handshake between the sending pastor and Philip becomes a vivid reminder that churches plant churches, and that meaningful partnership—sending and receiving—is still the way of mission.

Grace is training a people in Paris. Grace is training a people in your city.

Grace Helps Us Wait

“… waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:13).

As Grace trains us and others in godliness, He also helps us wait for our blessed hope. Have you ever considered the divine hardwiring of human beings to long for something beyond this life? Whether we are in Atlanta or Wichita, Phnom Penh, or Cairo, notice how everyone is living toward an end, a telos. Really, it is that everyone is eschatological, yet this longing for final resolve can only be fulfilled in the gospel.

As that old cinema fills up for the first time on launch Sunday in Paris’ famous 5th, Philip preaches to these very longings. A context far and distinct from ours, yet also so near and relatable. The ‘religious anatomy’^[2] of humanity expressing the common insatiable search for meaning in this life—all needing to hear how truth, goodness, and beauty, each finds its fullest expression in God through Christ.

In Paris, on this very Sunday, many who have never heard the gospel listen intently as this news begins to shape their imagination with an invitation to enter His story through repentance and faith. They can now know what they are waiting for: the blessed hope of their salvation, Jesus.

There is a hopeful sense that a new day is dawning for the advance of the gospel in Paris. Protestants of old were persecuted nearly to extinction on these very streets. Calvin’s unrealized vision for France to be flooded with new churches comes to mind.^[3] A small, yet resilient community of pastors and their churches waiting in hopeful anticipation that the beauty of Christ will soon burst forth from arrondissement to arrondissement, and even better, He will appear again.

Pastors worldwide, we all know this waiting—this longing for Christ to come again, for His glory to renew our cities, and for His hope to strengthen our people. Grace helps us to wait with hope. The kind of waiting we are called to is proactive. It is individual and corporate; it is patient and urgent. It adorns the gospel in visible display as we gather and scatter.

Grace Authorizes Our Declaration

Paul says the gospel was “manifested in His word through the preaching with which I have been entrusted” (Titus 1:3). He instructs believers to adorn the doctrine (2:10) and Titus, a pastor, to declare the gospel (2:15). Declaring Christ also adorns the doctrine.

In Paris, the declaration looks like a cinema transformed into a sanctuary. Music begins, and praises rise in French. Philip’s sermon on truth, goodness, and beauty declares Christ’s supremacy.^[4] The people of Paris hear the good news echo into their historic streets. Pastor, whether you are in a traditional sanctuary on Sunday morning, gathering at a storefront, meeting in a living room, a school, or an old warehouse, you get to declare that He “gave Himself for us to redeem us… and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good works” (2:14).

Pastor, we were made for this moment. Adorning the doctrine of God our Savior is the mission. Grace appeared, grace trains, grace helps us to wait with hope until Christ appears again, and grace empowers us to declare. That means that there is hope for Paris, our town, and our city.

May we adorn the doctrine of God our Savior until that day.

The work of adorning the gospel continues in cities around the world. See it in action in this documentary: Watch now.

^[1] Spurgeon, Charles H. “Adorning the Gospel.” Sermons vol. 18 (London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1872), 377.

^[2] Strange, Making Faith Magnetic, p. 27.

^[3] Michael A. G. Haykin, “John Calvin’s Missionary Influence in France,” Reformation and Revival 10, no. 4 (2001): 41–42. Haykin notes that by 1562 more than 2,000 Protestant churches had been planted in France, many through the efforts of Geneva trained missionaries under Calvin’s global vision of gospel advance.

^[4] From his launch sermon at L’Église de la Montagne, Philip Moore described the church’s vision this way: “We want to be … a church in the 5th arrondissement, for the 5th arrondissement; a church where everyone can encounter God through Jesus Christ; a church where we live out the three values we have chosen for our church: truth, beauty, and goodness. We believe that when we understand the truth about God, we see him as he is—perfect beauty and goodness—and that this experience allows us to live out truth, beauty, and goodness in our everyday lives.”

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/ZfGXdC8P86I

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Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/P_h1N_4MCS8

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Congratulations to this year’s winners of the 2025 For the Church Book Awards!

Dr. Jason K. Allen, President of Midwestern Seminary and FTC Editor-in-Chief

Winner: A Light on the Hill: The Surprising Story of How a Local Church in the Nation’s Capital Influenced Evangelicalism by Caleb Morell (Crossway)

“Admittedly, I have a bias towards local-church histories, finding each and every local-church’s story fascinating. But Caleb Morell’s A Light on the Hill: The Surprising Story of How a Local Church in the Nation’s Capital Influenced Evangelicalism proved especially gripping to me, and will prove encouraging for every minister who reads it.  Morell details the 150-year story of Capitol Hill Baptist Church in well researched but easy-to-read prose, grippingly telling the story of one of America’s most influential churches. The attentive reader will find lessons for local-church ministry sprinkled throughout but will also find the culminating chapters, which focus on the long, fruitful tenure of pastor Mark Dever, particularly of interest. The book is a reminder of how influential one church, strategically placed and biblically led, can be and how impactful one pastor, through one church, can impact multiple generations of ministers.”

Get the book here.

Runner-Up: 40 Questions About the Trinity by Matthew Emerson and Lucas Stamps (Kregel)

“The past decade has witnessed non-stop Trinity dialogue and debate in much of evangelicalism. Much of that discussion has trickled down to the local church level, prompting church members to rediscover ancient, essential doctrines. Along these lines, the 40 Questions Series, capably edited by Benjamin Merkle, has served the church well by answering commonly asked questions in well informed, yet understandable terms. Matthew Emerson and Lucas Stamps’ 40 Questions about the Trinity is a helpful contribution and a welcome addition to the 40 Questions Series. All trying to sort out the contemporary Trinity conversations—or just those needing a refresher on theology proper—will be well served by Emerson and Stamps’ work.”

Get the book here.

Dr. Jason G. Duesing, Provost of Midwestern Seminary and FTC Editorial Council Member

Winner: Meet the Puritans: Revised and Expanded Editionby Joel Beeke, Randall Pederson, and Fraser Jones (Reformation Heritage Books)

“As a perennially misunderstood group, the Puritans are in regular need of definition and introduction. The first edition of this book in 2006 served that purpose well, but when I learned the second edition contained 40% new material I knew this revised and expanded edition of Meet the Puritans would serve now as the standard resource for its intended reading audiences of pew, pulpit, and podium. The authors are like informed and enthusiastic docents greeting you at the entrance of a large museum—eager to tell you where to start and happy to share their own favorite galleries to help you make the most of your visit. Meet the Puritans is very much worth the price of admission.”
Get the book here.

Runner-Up: Prioritizing the Church in Missions by John Folmar and Scott Logsdon (Crossway)

“Churches are the Bible’s missions strategy. This simple premise rings throughout this book as both a head-nodding reminder and as a chin-scratching epiphany. Written by two seasoned missionaries who pastor international, English-speaking churches in Muslim countries, Prioritizing the Church in Missions rehearses for the reader the centrality of the local church in God’s plan while also explaining why this idea is needed to bring clarity for 21st missiological practice. For anyone or any church who loves the nations, this book will prove helpful.”

Get the book here.

Camden Pulliam, Senior Vice President for Institutional Relations at Midwestern Seminary and FTC Editorial Council Member

Winner: Managing Your Households Well by Chap Bettis (P&R)

“This book is neither complicated nor clever, but its thrust is utterly consequential. The church does not need more hired-hands or professionalized parrots. No, the church needs paternal pastors. Having written my dissertation on 1 Timothy 3:4-5, I was supremely curious to read Chap Bettis’s practical exposition of these verses, and he did not disappoint. From exegetical insights to relational wisdom and experiential guidance, this book outlines how the weight of fatherhood trains men for the work of ministry. Numerous sections within the book reveal Bettis’ acquaintance with the gritty questions of daily parenting and daily pastoring – each of which are answered (or navigated) with skill and grace. I encourage any father, pastor, or man aspiring to be such to read this book, and then internalize it. May we raise more fathers who feel like a pastor, and pastors who feel like a father.”

Get the book here.

Runner-Up: Lest We Drift: Five Departures from the One True Gospel by Jared C. Wilson (Zondervan)

“We all have turned to look for something in the back seat while driving down the highway, only to look up again and realize the car has veered off course into danger. Dr. Jared Wilson warns of this drift in ministry too: “The moment we take our eyes off the center is when we begin to move away from it” (9). Partially a post-op on the gospel-centered movement of the past 20 years, and partially a prophetic plea with the church’s leaders of the next 20 years, Wilson exposes the dangers of drifting into victimhood, dryness, superficiality, pragmatism, and legalism. We must return, again and again, to gospel-centrality. Yes, indeed, “we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it” (Heb. 2:1). ”

Get the book here.

Jared Wilson, Assistant Professor of Pastoral Ministry, Spurgeon College; Author in Residence, and FTC Editorial Council Member

Winner: Good News at Rock Bottom: Finding God When the Pain Goes Deep and Hope Seems Lost by Ray Ortlund (Crossway)

“Nobody today speaks to the heart with such pastoral grace as Ray Ortlund, and this book, while short and sweet, is nevertheless a loving stare at a deep, deep well of God’s mercy. With a scholar’s resource and a father’s tone, Ortlund guides the reader through the pains of betrayal, loss, death, and the entrapment of his or her own sins to see that the Lord who abides high on his holy hill is also down in the smoking crater, abiding with the lowly and brokenhearted. Especially for those whose life has bottomed out — but not just for them — Good News at Rock Bottom ministered to me unlike any other 2025 book I read.”

Get the book here.

Runner-Up: Drawn by Beauty: Awe and Wonder in the Christian Life by Matthew Z. Capps (B&H Academic)

“For believers living in an age drowning in entertainment but still diminished in wonder, Matthew Capps’s Drawn to Beauty is a course corrective with deep discernment and a keen understanding of Christianity’s theological heritage of aesthetics. This book is as challenging as it is compelling, and it will draw readers into a more resonant faith, one that more gloriously adorns our glorious God.”

Get the book here.

Brett Fredenberg, Director of Marketing and Content Strategy and Managing Editor of For the Church

Winner: Union with Christ and the Life of Faith by Fred Sanders (Baker Academic)

“Fred Sanders has long helped the church recover the beauty and centrality of Trinitarian theology, and in Union with Christ and the Life of Faith he offers one of his most pastorally valuable works yet. With precision and warmth, Sanders shows that union with Christ is not a niche doctrine; it is the unshakable foundation of the Christian life. He writes with a rare blend of academic clarity and everyday accessibility, inviting readers to marvel at what it means to belong to Jesus, to participate in His life, and to walk by faith in the power of the Spirit. Every chapter reminds believers that the Christian life is not grounded in self-effort but in the finished work of Christ applied to us. This book strengthens weary saints, steadies young believers, and deepens the roots of any disciple hungry to grow in grace.”

Get the book here.

Runner-Up: How to Lead Your Family by Joel Beeke  (Reformation Heritage Books)

“Joel Beeke’s How to Lead Your Family is a deeply needed word for a cultural moment marked by distraction and drift. Drawing from decades of pastoral ministry and a lifetime of devotional wisdom, Beeke offers a vision of family leadership that is both countercultural and wonderfully ordinary. He refuses to reduce spiritual leadership to technique; instead, he calls parents to a life of repentance, prayer, Scripture, and intentional discipleship. With clarity and gentleness, Beeke shepherds readers toward cultivating a home shaped by grace, where parents model what they teach, where worship becomes a pattern of life, and where children are invited into the rhythms of the Christian life. This book is both convicting and hope-giving, offering practical steps without ever losing sight of the gospel that empowers them. It is a resource every Christian parent, pastor, and church leader should keep close at hand.”

Get the book here.

Jonathan Lumley, Associate Editor at For the Church

Winner: Numbers 20–36 by L. Michael Morales (Apollos)

“The second volume of Morales’ commentary on Numbers brings readers into Israel’s wilderness journey with clarity and insight. Morales carefully unpacks the Hebrew text and the book’s structure while highlighting moments of challenge, faithfulness, and God’s guidance that speak directly to life today. His exposition is both thorough and approachable, making this a resource that pastors, students, and everyday readers can use to engage the text thoughtfully and faithfully.”

Get the book here.

Runner-up: Prioritizing Missions in the Church by Aaron Menikoff and Harshit Singh (Crossway)

“This book is the counterpart to Prioritizing the Church in Missions, providing a helpful, much-needed guide for making missions central to your church’s culture. Menikoff and Singh show how practices like preaching, prayer, discipleship, and community can naturally support sending and sustaining missionaries. Grounded in Scripture and pastoral experience, it argues that missions isn’t just a program or parachurch work but should be woven into the heartbeat of every congregation. Whether you are a missionary, pastor, leader, or member, this book offers practical, biblical guidance for aligning your church with God’s heart for the nations.”

Get the book here.

Levi Moore, Manager, Sword & Trowel Bookstore and Tomlinson Cafe

Winner: A Heart Aflame for God: A Reformed Approach to Spiritual Formation by Matthew Bingham (Crossway)

“Never has it been easier for the glint and glimmer of this world to steal our gaze from the God who redeemed us. Our natural inclination in fighting this distraction is to try harder, as if doing more will rekindle a heart grown cold. Matthew Bingham reminds us otherwise: only the Holy Spirit, through reading, praying, and pondering the illuminated Word, can set us ablaze from within. This formation from within is critical for the local church as we are “living stones…being built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood” (1 Pet. 2:5). A heart kept aflame for God during the week stokes the flames of corporate worship, offering a pleasing aroma to the Lord.”

Get the book here.

Runner-Up: Remember Heaven: Meditations on the World to Come for Life in the Meantime by Matthew McCullough (Crossway)

“Only the hope of heaven is big enough for a world that never will be. Yet we have become masters of drowning our aches and longings for more in vain and unfulfilling distractions. It is with forceful tenderness that Matthew McCullough presses the hope of heaven into our wounded longings and shows that the new creation is the only answer big enough for hearts that were made for eternity. A church that truly remembers heaven will live differently now and preach a gospel that finally feels like Good News.”

Get the book here.

Once again, we would like to extend a congratulations to the authors and publishers represented in the 2025 For the Church Book Awards. You can view previous winners of the FTC Book Awards here: 2024, 2023, 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017.

Nevertheless, it was God’s kind providence that led to the phone call that all foster parents dread but expect: they were coming to pick her up to take her to be with family.

The grief was immediate and deep. How do you just let a child you have grown to love go? Regardless of our desires, the time came, the social worker arrived, and against every fiber in us, we put that little girl in a car seat, never to be seen by us again.

And we wept—we wept long, and we wept hard. To this day, when I think of her, it moves me deeply.

When the soul is drowning, to what can it cling that is buoyant enough to keep it afloat? In those days of darkness, I found myself reflecting on the Preacher’s words in Ecclesiastes 11:7–8. They have held my hand as my wife and I have learned what it means to be “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” (2 Cor. 6:10) in the wake of our first child’s departure.

These verses invite us to look honestly and soberly at both the sweetness of life’s light and the certainty of its darkness. I invite you to reflect with me on what it means to bathe in the light as the sun dips below the horizon and the shadows of evening begin to gather:

“Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun. For if a person lives many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many” (Ecc. 11:7–8).[1]

1. Bathe in the Light

It’s a beautiful verse, but what does it mean that light is sweet? In Ecclesiastes, light is the gracious revelation and manifestation of God’s goodness in a dark and broken world (2:13–14; 11:7–8). “Light” is not something meant to remain abstract—it is the very grace of God that warms the heaven-bound soul as they undoubtedly trek through many long, cold, and lonely evenings. It is something that can be held onto, whether physically or spiritually—it can be noticed, received, and remembered.

The light for my wife and me are the evenings of cuddles as we watched Bluey with our little girl and our shared laughter as she would get the “zoomies” before bed. The light was watching this child from an unbelieving family learn the rhythms of song and prayer.

There is much light elsewhere in my life. My wedding day. Reconciling with family members after years of relational tension. Brunch dates. Time in the Word and prayer where I feel intimate with the Lord and on fire for his mission.

Cling to the days of light, friends, and call them to mind often. Cling to the days where you can grab God’s goodness, receive its warmth and comfort, and go to bed with a smile and a happy heart. For as God gifts days of light, he also gifts another type of day in his providence: “the days of darkness will be many.”

2. Accept the Night

The night is often long and cold. However, one of the first truths I had to learn to stomach before feeling the light again is that the night is not necessarily a bad thing. Notice that the Preacher does not condemn the days of darkness; he simply states, “the days of darkness will be many,” and this is something you should remember when experiencing the light.

The events that bring “the days of darkness” certainly can be caused by sinful origins, and that should not be ignored, but that does not mean everything about it is to be despised.

Rather, it is essential that we learn from the great sufferers of the faith who are able to say things like, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21), and, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good…” (Gen. 50:20).

Such is the wisdom of the Preacher, and such should be the disposition of the sufferer. The darkness is often painful, but when the righteous sufferer resigns himself or herself to the sovereign goodness of our God in all things, a context is created wherein light can be felt again—and the darkness becomes the backdrop that magnifies the great graces and gifts of our good God.

3. Rejoice in the Light Amid the Night

Light is not only a blessing in the day; it becomes essential when night falls.

Following the opening declaration that light is sweet, the Preacher provides a foundational reason—signaled by the word “for” (rendered in the ESV as “so”)—why the light is sweet. Light is sweet precisely because life contains both stretches of joy and many days of darkness, and the ability to delight in the light is grounded in holding the two together—not their separation.

The Preacher is not offering a simple cause-and-effect: “Light is sweet… so rejoice!” That would treat joy as automatic and ignore the reality of darkness. Rather, he explains, “Light is sweet… for God gives years worth rejoicing in even though many dark ones will come.” The sweetness of light is meaningful because it exists alongside the days of darkness, and rejoicing is grounded in God’s providence of both days, not just in the days of light.

The sweetness of light is not naïve of life’s brutal realities, nor is rejoicing dependent on days of light; the tension between the sweetness of light and pain of darkness is meant to be held together for the explicit purpose that the days of darkness highlight the sweetness of the light.

You are right to rejoice in every day and year that God gives—for he really does give many good ones, even though darkness is a part of the package.

So when the sun drops beneath the horizon and the bitter cold of night begins to bite at you, hold the moments of light near, for these are the very means and graces of God ordained to sustain you and provide warmth when you can no longer see.

The evenings of laughter are not meant to make you collapse when they end—they are meant to remind you that God is good all the time, even when it doesn’t feel like it. They remind you that night is temporary. The same sun that sank beneath the horizon will rise again—dawn is as certain as dusk.

Cling to the days of health, joy, and intimacy with God, fellow church members, your children, and any other that God might bring across your path, for seasons of sickness, sadness, and loneliness will surely come. When they come, remember the graces and gifts of the past—for their sweetness will return again. It may not be tomorrow, but if you are in Christ, his light will dawn on you for an eternity. Therefore, we hope and do not despair.

[1] Most English translations render the Hebrew particle, ki, in v. 8 as “so,” but the word more commonly introduces an explanation or grounding (“for”). The Preacher is not drawing a conclusion (“so rejoice”) but giving the reason why light is sweet (“for God gives many good years even though dark ones will come”).

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/IYtrbOg38B8

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/5ICC3KIaaMw

In 1944, C.S. Lewis delivered a lecture at King’s College, University of London. The talk he delivered to a group of young college students has become a famous address entitled “The Inner Ring.” In it Lewis states:

“I believe that in all men’s lives at certain periods, and in many men’s lives at all periods between infancy and extreme old age, one of the most dominant elements is the desire to be inside the local Ring and the terror of being left outside.”

In a stroke of religious and psychological brilliance, Lewis unpacks with arresting clarity the deep desires of the human heart to be loved, included, regarded, listened to, and accepted into the various “inner rings” of our lives—from friends, to co-workers, to politics, and even church. The temptation to live life striving to be accepted by our peers or our community can become an all-controlling feature of life. The desire for the inner ring is real. So, what does Lewis propose as an answer? Wisdom and work.

“The quest of the Inner Ring will break your hearts unless you break it. But if you break it, a surprising result will follow. If in your working hours you make the work your end, you will presently find yourself all unawares inside the only circle in your profession that really matters. You will be one of the sound craftsmen, and other sound craftsmen will know it.”

Lewis here describes work done with skill and focus. This is not the path of self-promotion or maneuvering, but of wisdom and skill that warrants praise. The death of the desire to be in the inner circle is to pursue skill and wisdom with diligence, and Ecclesiastes 9–10 help us see why this is necessary: wisdom rarely makes a person famous.

Wisdom is Greater than Might

Ecclesiastes 9:13–18 tells a fascinating—albeit commonly overlooked—little story about a poor, wise man who delivered a city through his wisdom. This little story is one of my favorites in the book. There is something profound and strikingly realistic about the poetic justice of a great king with great siege-works being overtaken by the skill of a poor man in a little town by his wisdom. There is really no way to know what historical event the Teacher is describing, nor does it really matter. The point here is that wisdom has the power to protect and deliver. And this is a point for us to reflect upon: Do we believe true wisdom can protect and deliver? We live in a culture full of “shouting fools” (9:17), but do we believe that wisdom is greater than volume? Wisdom does not believe that the end justifies the means, but that the way we live shapes the end—the path of wisdom leads to life and deliverance.

The old man in the story is not celebrated or remembered (apart from this account in Ecclesiastes). He did not become the ruler, his name was not passed along, and he did not get a statue commemorating his accomplishment. One of the main ideas in these verses is that in a fallen world, we should not expect wisdom to be celebrated. But does this lack of recognition make his efforts in vain? No, he delivered the city! But he did not receive praise, glory, or honor. We live in a culture that sees shows of power and aggression as supreme, and wisdom as a waste of time. Wisdom is indeed greater than might, but don’t expect the mighty to admit it. The subtlety of wisdom is its own reward, and the wise know it.

Foolishness is Powerful

The Teacher of Ecclesiastes instructs us that another reason wisdom does not always get the recognition it deserves is because foolishness can reside in high places (10:5). In 10:1–11, the Teacher argues that while wisdom can deliver and is truly more powerful than weapons of war, foolishness also has its own ability to spoil things—like a dead fly in perfume!

This is true, right? How many headlines have we read where a life of good deeds was destroyed by a few moments of folly? Forty years of a virtuous career can be ended by one illegal decision. Foolish decisions have powerful consequences.

But folly not only has power because of its consequences; it is also powerful because of its ability to deceive. Ecclesiastes 10:3 describes an individual walking, lacking sense, and saying to everyone he is a fool. The passage is a bit ambiguous, but the idea is that either through his own words or actions he reveals he is a fool to all around him. The great power and irony of foolishness is that it is most often unobserved by those who display it most proudly.

In our current culture that values power, strength, shock value, and control, do not think that because folly hangs out in high places it is permissible—or benign. The Teacher explains that it will destroy a life… and a little goes a long way. There is no sin beyond the grace and forgiving power of the gospel, but talk to any longtime Christian, and they’ll tell you that being forgiven doesn’t mean that the consequences and memories of sin disappear. Wisdom recognizes the power of foolishness and counters it with a deep desire to walk in the paths of wisdom.

Go After Jesus, not the Inner Ring

In an Ecclesiastes-like fashion, Lewis warns of the vanity in pursuing the recognition of the inner ring:

As long as you are governed by that desire you will never get what you want. You are trying to peel an onion: if you succeed there will be nothing left. Until you conquer the fear of being an outsider, an outsider you will remain.

In Ecclesiastes, fools desire what they cannot have. Refusing to recognize the temporariness of this world, they seek ultimate fulfillment in things that cannot give it. In Lewis’s analogy, fools spend their lives peeling onions, only to find themselves empty-handed in the end.

Wisdom does not live for the inner ring, but for something more substantial. Ecclesiastes explains to us the power of wisdom and the disproportionate praise it receives in this world. But, like the Teacher of Old Testament wisdom, our Lord Jesus also calls us to a path of wisdom and virtue that is often not celebrated in this life. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us:

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it. (Matt. 7:24–27)

It is amazing how difficult and strange Ecclesiastes can feel at times, and yet how similar the message is to Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount. The first temptation of the serpent in the Garden of Eden was, “Did God really say….” The temptation to stray from God’s word continues through every generation. Wisdom is not crowd-sourcing. Wisdom is not trying to guess what the next big thing will be before everyone else. Wisdom begins with the fear of the Lord and building our lives upon his words. Wisdom believes that God’s instructions are good and life-giving, even though wisdom rarely gets a trophy.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/AOSZg4_pKgs

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/leqUqgC7FwI

Two years later, my wife and I moved to Kansas City for seminary. I was twenty-six, sitting in class with many young twenty-somethings, and I felt behind in ministry because I had never served in a vocational church role.

As a twenty-six-year-old, I noticed friends starting families, purchasing their first homes, or beginning their first pastorates—and I felt left behind. Being in a seminary bubble, you see God work in individuals’ lives, calling them to serve churches at a young age or in ministry contexts immediately after graduation. I was thankful for my role in our church, even though it was only part-time. It was a paid ministry position, but before long, I found myself dwelling on the fact that I was not a pastor. In my selfish, fleshly mind, I thought God was behind—that He was not doing for me what He was doing for others, and they were much younger than I was.

Friends, whether you are in ministry or not, we can be tempted to think our sovereign, all-knowing, governing Lord is behind in placing us where we want to be. Here are three encouragements for those who struggle with contentment in the here and now.

Remember: God Is Always at Work

In a viral tweet, John Piper stated, “God is always doing 10,000 things in your life, and you may be aware of three of them.” For those in Christ, knowing that God governs your life should be the most peaceful news. Jeremiah 10:23 says, “LORD, I know that people’s lives are not their own; it is not for them to direct their steps.” God is always at work in our lives, guiding and directing our steps. Most of the time this is a mystery we spend long periods worrying about, but we are told in Matthew 6:34, “Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

People often say hindsight is 20/20—and providence proves this to be true. There are ways God is working for my good that I am completely unaware of. My knowledge is limited because I do not stand outside of time, but God does, and I take comfort in this. While here on earth, God may seem behind according to the timeline we want. We have ideas of what our life will be like in five years, but God alone has true and complete knowledge of this. That is why we can trust His timing and be content where He has given us opportunities to serve Him, whether in a local church or a nine-to-five job.

I worked many odd-and-end jobs that God used to provide for the next steps He had for me. We may never understand the purpose of God’s present placement in our lives. I never understood why I worked at a pantyhose factory while taking seminary courses online. Looking back, God was shaping me for service in His church. Human beings are meant to have limited knowledge, and that limitation should direct our gaze to the One who knows all things.

Trust: His Timing Is Not a Mistake

I can’t help but think of John 11 and the two grieving sisters who were convinced Jesus was behind. When Lazarus grew ill, they sent word to Jesus—yet He stayed two days longer. By the time He arrived in Bethany, Lazarus was dead, and both Martha and Mary said the same thing: “Lord, if you had been here…” To them, Jesus was late, operating on His own timeline instead of theirs.

But Jesus knew exactly what He was doing. Martha’s faith is shown in her words, “But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” Yet even she didn’t grasp that the One standing before her was “the resurrection and the life.” They were not prepared for the glory He was about to reveal.

Jesus didn’t send a messenger ahead to reassure them. He didn’t heal Lazarus instantly from a distance, as He had done for others. He waited. Why? Belief. He delayed so that His disciples—and these beloved sisters—would see more clearly who He is. His apparent slowness was actually purposeful love.

And isn’t that our struggle? We often assume God is behind on the healing, behind on the provision, behind on the rescue. But what if He is holding back because we are not yet ready for what He intends to show us? What if, like the father in Mark 9, we are meant to cry out, “I believe; help my unbelief”?

What would it do to our faith if God revealed everything He was doing in our lives?

Rest: Trusting in God’s Timing

Throughout my path to pastoral ministry, these Scriptures on waiting have steadied my heart:

• Psalm 27:14 – “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!”
• Psalm 37:7 – “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices!”
• Psalm 130:5 – “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope…”
• Proverbs 20:22 – “Do not say, ‘I will repay evil’; wait for the Lord, and he will deliver you.”
• Isaiah 8:17 – “I will wait for the Lord… and I will hope in him.”
• Isaiah 30:18 – “The Lord waits to be gracious to you… blessed are all those who wait for him.”

Now, at thirty-three, serving as an Associate Pastor in Arkansas, married nine years with three little girls who fill our home with life, I look back and see the Lord’s fingerprints all over my story. Every challenge, obstacle, and unexpected turn was preparing me for what He had called me to. I’m still on that journey, but one truth has become unmistakably clear: trusting His providence always leads to good—even when the road feels slow.

Lamentations 3:25 declares, “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.” That is my counsel to the aspiring pastor, to the single young man longing for a wife, to the college student eager for the mission field.

God is not behind. Wait for Him.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/Pq6X9J_DKWQ

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/Jt4AM_Widls

“No one is good but God.” Perhaps you can even hear that answer. It’s how we tend to respond to this question, isn’t it? We point to Jesus, the perfect God-man who died for our sins, reiterating that there are no good people and that all of us deserve the judgment of God.

And this is correct. Paul tells us in Romans 3 that no one is righteous. Everyone has sinned. Sin incurs the wrath of God, and if everyone has sinned, then we all deserve the judgment of God.

People die because of sin. Judgment happens because of evil. Bad things happen because God is just.

And yet, even as I affirm this answer in its entirety, two passages in the Bible have reshaped how I view this question.

The Mystery of Justice

The first passage is Genesis 18. In this passage, God promises to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah for their wickedness. Abraham, knowing that his nephew Lot lives in Sodom, intercedes with God.

“Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?” he opens (18:23).

What could perhaps be taken as innocent curiosity soon begins to show its true colors: “Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city. Will you then sweep away the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous who are in it?” (18:24).

Abraham believes that the entire city of wickedness should be spared on account of a few righteous. His question borders on assuming the answer: “Of course God would spare the whole city on behalf of the righteous.” The next verse tells us why.

Abraham continues in 18:25, “Far be it from you to do such a thing, to put the righteous to death with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”

Abraham isn’t accusing God of being unjust. He’s saying that because God is just, he can’t wipe away the righteous with the wicked. It would be unjust to do so, and this is why Abraham seemingly assumes the answer in his question. But, of course, Abraham is merely a man, and we see examples throughout Scripture of people who have skewed perspectives.

Yet, I don’t think Abraham has a skewed perspective here. For one, far from rebuking Abraham for his strong words, God promises that he will not destroy the whole city if he finds fifty righteous, seemingly indicating his agreement with Abraham (18:26). Additionally, Lot—whom Peter calls righteous (2 Pet. 2:7)—is indeed saved by God from the destruction of Sodom. Finally, Abraham never repents, nor does the narrative ever seem to critique Abraham’s words. By all accounts, Abraham’s words seem to be true: the righteous should not be punished alongside the wicked.

The passage leaves Abraham ignorant of the outcome. God’s departing promise is that he will not destroy the city if ten righteous people are present in it. The next time we see Abraham is in Genesis 19:27, where he goes up the mountain to speak with God and watches smoke rise from the ashes of Sodom. We have no record in Scripture of him meeting Lot again, no promise from God that Lot would be spared. Amid the mystery, Abraham is left with his faith in a just God. Abraham may not know that Lot survived. He may not know why God chose to destroy the city even with Lot there. But he does know that God is just and faithful, even when it seems like bad things might happen to good people.

The Mystery of Death

The second passage that speaks to this question is Ecclesiastes 8:14, where Solomon writes, “There is an enigma[1] that takes place on earth, that there are righteous people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the wicked, and there are wicked people to whom it happens according to the deeds of the righteous. I said that this also is enigma.”

The context reveals that Solomon is speaking of death. Here, like Abraham, Solomon wrestles with the mystery of the death of the righteous. How can this happen? How can the wicked survive in all their sin while the righteous die what seems to be the sinner’s death, despite their righteousness? How can bad things happen to righteous people?

Solomon doesn’t give us answers. Quite the opposite, in fact. He tells us that regardless of how hard we try, we will not find out all that God is doing in the world (8:17). We know he is still talking about the death of the righteous because he returns to this subject in 9:2, telling us again that “the same event happens to the righteous and the wicked, to the good and the evil,” that is, death. He doubles down, saying, “This is an evil in all that is done under the sun, that the same event happens to all” (9:3).

Solomon, writing inspired words of Scripture, tells us that the same death happening to both the righteous and the wicked is not only mysterious, but evil.

Assurance Greater Than Answers

When people come to us with questions of theodicy, seeking to understand how a good God could allow bad things to happen to people he saved, we can tend to be dismissive. We rightly cast focus onto Christ who, though innocent, suffered on our behalf, all the while unintentionally dodging the very question Scripture itself asks.

But when we come to Scripture with this question, it doesn’t blink. “You are asking the right question,” comes the reply from its pages. It gives us some answers—enabling salvation, producing holiness, refining faith—but much is left a mystery. It is a mystery why God causes bad and good to fall both on the righteous and unrighteous, but it is not a mystery that God does it.

Perhaps that’s scary for you. You know God as a comforter, not a pain-giver, and the thought of him knowingly causing bad things to happen is uncomfortable. But to you, my friend, I say this: God is a good God. He is sovereign and in control, and that’s a very good thing. We don’t always know why God brings bad upon the good, but we know that he is always just, and he will ultimately more than make up for anything we’ve lost or any pain we’ve felt.

This makes all the difference.

So often when bad things happen, we turn to Scripture with our questions. We want answers, but instead we find promises. Promises of eternal life, of pain becoming a thing of the past, of wrongs made right, and of justice that will be done. And this means that even in the enigma of pain and suffering, even in the mystery of bad things happening to righteous people, we don’t have to fear.

You don’t always know what God is doing in your life. But he does. So you can trust him.

[1] I understand the Hebrew term hebel, often translated “vanity,” to refer more accurately to “mystery.” See Jason S. DeRouchie, “Shepherding Wind and One Wise Shepherd: Grasping for Breath in Ecclesiastes,” The Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 15.3 (2011): 4–25.

You Are What You Eat

No doubt you have heard this expression before. It is used to encourage healthy eating so as to make one healthy. This is also true for the local church: the church will become what it “eats.” What does your church consume the most? The sermon? Missionary testimonies? Culture-warrior diatribes? Political debate?

If we audited the average church’s ministries and services, we might be surprised to find that what they “eat” is mostly sides and desserts. Imagine Thanksgiving dinner. I love mac and cheese, dressing, and mashed potatoes as much as the next guy. But isn’t the turkey what makes Thanksgiving special?

Sides shouldn’t overshadow the entrée at Thanksgiving. Sunday morning, like Thanksgiving, is special in large part because of the entrée—the Word. When we prioritize the sides and desserts, which aren’t bad in themselves, we miss out on what makes the meal truly substantive. A church is what it eats, and if we want the church to be special, we ought to prioritize consuming that which makes it special.

You Are What You Celebrate

I have heard the essence of this expression a number of times. “Celebration” doesn’t necessarily mean cheering or giving a standing ovation for a particular topic. It can simply mean what is most positively talked about in your church. Your church will become what you celebrate.

It is easy to become the church that celebrates ________. What dominates your announcements time? What is most discussed at the church business meeting? What are the “wins” mentioned in staff meetings—attendance, giving, visitors, community outreach events, baptisms, new discipleship groups?

Many churches celebrate the “sides” mentioned earlier, and their culture begins to reflect it. They become the church of missions, or young people, or amazing kids’ programs, and so on. Churches that celebrate the ministries God has given them are in no way wrong, but how does that same church speak about the Word? Is time in the Word spoken of positively?

You Are What You’re Intentional About

I first heard this expression spoken of in reference to the University of Texas football team. Over the last few seasons, they had been known for losing close games late in the fourth quarter. So, they became very intentional in practice about making the last 30 minutes or so the most intense and focused part of the entire session. They focused specifically on late-game situations, and it paid dividends.

This principle is no less true of churches. Perhaps the most obvious example is the common Wednesday night prayer meeting. After a potluck dinner, those gathered sit down to hear a 15 to 20-minute sermon, followed by prayer requests.

Of the requests, 95% are for health-related concerns. Of the praise reports, another 95% focus on positive health updates. Whether by conviction or coincidence, many churches are intentional about praying for health-related concerns, and it shows during their prayer meetings.

Praying for health-related concerns is not bad in itself. At my own church’s prayer meeting, we regularly pray for physical ailments. But we also want to be intentional about praying for the many other things that God cares about, particularly the Word. So, we intentionally pray for the preaching of the Word at our church and other sister churches, as well as for our own desire to hear the Word. Intentionality goes a long way.

Changing a Culture

Many churches and pastors wonder how they can change their church’s culture or reputation. Surface-level changes may occur with a new logo or an influx of young people who prefer a certain style of music. A critical way to change a church’s culture from unhealthy to healthy is by changing what they eat, celebrate, and are intentional about.

1. Feed Your People God’s Word

How can a church eat God’s Word? Change your diet. Add in fruits and vegetables and remove the extra calories. Ensure your services are filled with God’s Word so that your people leave full and satisfied. Many people leave church “full” the same way they leave a plate of cookies—they are stuffed, but quickly realize they are uncomfortably full. Fill your service with God’s Word so that your people leave full, and because it isn’t junk food, they will leave satisfied.

2. Celebrate God’s Word

How can a church celebrate God’s Word? Simply put, make sure time in God’s Word is positively spoken about. I have seen churches that, despite having a dedicated sermon time (perhaps even a whole hour!), don’t celebrate that moment. Talk to members, and you can quickly discover whether they celebrate God’s Word or merely tolerate it until they move on to things they like more. Pastors have a tremendous ability to teach the church how to celebrate God’s Word. Speak positively about the preaching moment before your sermon. Speak positively about it even when you’re not scheduled to preach. Model what it looks like to sit under a sermon with a positive attitude.

3. Be Intentional About God’s Word

How can a church be intentional about God’s Word? A dedicated sermon time with little to no other mention of God’s Word will work against intentionality. The healthy churches I’ve had the privilege of being part of intentionally placed scripture readings throughout the worship service. Beyond Sunday gatherings, they were intentional about keeping the Word at the center of lunch tables, staff meetings, discipleship groups, men’s ministry, mom’s Bible study, and so on. Churches that are intentional about the Word become centered on the Word.

A church that is serious about eating, celebrating, and being intentional about God’s Word will become a Word-centered church. If you want to change the culture of your church, consider intentionally changing both their diet and their celebrations.

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Delivering a sermon is an aspect of preaching that often receives insufficient attention. Much of this stems from the reality that pastors rightly do not wish to focus on entertaining their congregation. Rather, a pastor seeks to glorify the Lord, who uses the “foolishness of preaching” (1 Cor. 1:21) to spiritually nourish his people. Yet, effective sermon delivery can enhance this impact. Most people can learn to speak dynamically, but doing so on the Lord’s Day without theologically sound or edifying content is a mistake preachers must avoid.

No matter how much importance one places on compelling sermon delivery, failing to maintain a congregation’s interest—or speaking primarily to entertain—poses significant problems. Unfortunately, too often, pastors give little thought to delivery until they step into the pulpit. How, then, should a pastor approach improving delivery, and how can he balance content with the act of delivering it effectively?

Not every pastor is a dynamic or gifted orator. But, as Spurgeon noted, “It is not the work of a shepherd to strike his sheep, but to feed them.”[1] Pastors are called to be attentive to how the Word is exposited and proclaimed so that a sermon spiritually nourishes the congregation. Elements of delivery—emphasis, rate, volume, tone, and non-verbal cues—reveal the pastor’s heart and are essential to an impactful sermon. These concepts can, however, be overlooked because a pastor doesn’t want to appear all show and no substance. What, then, are some faithful reasons for considering improvements in delivery?

1. Poor Delivery Distracts a Congregation

Everyone has heard preaching that could be delivered more effectively. This is not always a result of poor exegesis. Sometimes, a preacher’s communication habits distract, bore, or detract from the message of God’s Word—and no pastor wants that.

2. Every Sermon Is a Matter of Life or Death

A faithful pastor preaches Christ and Christ crucified—the message that saves souls—and learning to convey this truth is worthy of every pastor’s effort. Preaching God’s Word well is essential (2 Tim. 4:2), and effectively communicating the Word is a central element of the gathering on the Lord’s Day. A pastor must engage his congregation in a way that keeps them attentive to God’s Spirit—something that is strengthened by dynamic delivery. When a pastor proclaims God’s Word with clear and compelling delivery, the gospel  is more likely to resonate in the hearts of the congregation.

3. Delivery Demonstrates the Word at Work in the Preacher

The weight of preaching led Spurgeon to observe, “Preaching has often driven me to my knees, and chained me to my Bible.”[2] Compelling delivery helps a congregation perceive the pastor’s sincerity, while the pastor’s ethos connects him with the congregation and the congregation with God. When a pastor has internalized the sermon’s content and written God’s Word on his heart, the congregation can see this and be moved by it—an effect often achieved through sermon delivery.

4. God’s Word Deserves Powerful Delivery.

Powerful delivery reminds a congregation of the power of God in His word. Yet effective delivery begins with a pastor internalizing a passage and guiding the congregation to think deeply about the God of the Word. Because the gospel has impacted the pastor personally, the pathos of the sermon is conveyed with the conviction of one transformed by God’s Word. Rather than drawing attention to the sermon itself, compelling delivery displays the saving power of Christ.

How to Improve Sermon Delivery

So, how can a pastor improve delivery in a way that allows the congregation to focus on God’s Word?

1. Practice the Sermon

Be thoroughly familiar with your manuscript or outline, and ensure the sermon is carefully planned and rehearsed.

2. Preach to Yourself

Enter the sanctuary before Sunday, stand behind the pulpit, and preach either the introduction or the entire sermon. This practice encourages reflection on how God’s Word resonates in your own heart. In this act, God often works uniquely and powerfully within the pastor’s heart. And one never knows who might be present in the audience, even when it seems the sanctuary is empty.

3. Invite Feedback

Invite a young aspiring pastor or a retired pastor from the congregation to listen to part of a sermon rehearsal or provide feedback on a section of the manuscript. This creates an opportunity to mentor—or be mentored. Every pastor can use sermon rehearsal time as a moment for discipleship. Moreover, the person invited will sense the significance of their role, recognizing this as a chance to contribute to ministry on the Lord’s Day by helping enhance the sermon’s impact.

4. Watch or Listen to Your Sermon

It is difficult for most pastors to listen to or watch their own sermons, yet doing so is highly beneficial. Every preacher needs an honest critic, and as the adage goes, “You are your own worst critic.” By observing a sermon they have delivered, a preacher can notice elements that others might miss. Both effective and ineffective practices can be identified by watching a video of—or listening to—one’s own sermon.

5. Revisit Public Speaking Basics

Review the primary components of effective public speaking. Look through an old textbook or notes for the essential elements of strong delivery, considering aspects such as volume, pace, eye contact, hand gestures, tone, poise, and skills learned in a Public Speaking class that may have been forgotten. A pastor can gain valuable insight into improving sermon delivery by reflecting on how one enhances public speaking. While a speech and a sermon are different, many of the same principles apply.

6. Learn from Other Preachers

Spurgeon noted, “Study successful models. I made Whitefield my model years ago. Buy his sermons.”[3] Even the Prince of Preachers studied diligently to improve his sermon delivery—not to gain an audience, but to magnify Christ. Few things speak to a congregation as powerfully as a pastor’s love for God’s Word, expressed with passion and conviction.

[1] W.Y. Fullerton, Charles Haddon Spurgeon: A Biography (Chicago: Moody Press, 1996), 221.

[2] Ibid., 220.

[3] Ibid., 221.

That old well comes to mind when I think about our spiritual lives. God’s people are not hoarders of spiritual blessing—if we can pour ourselves out, we will. Paul says as much when he is summarizing his ministry to Timothy at the end of his life: “For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come (2 Tim. 4:6).” We pour ourselves out in service, teaching, care for others, good works, and in a number of other ways. Pouring ourselves out is a good, Christlike thing to do, but we must be careful lest we fail to pay attention to what pours into us and we become contaminated like that old well.

Like that old well, if we aren’t careful about what we put into our hearts and minds, we might find that our well is contaminated. Contaminated water is as useless as having no water at all. Likewise, our spiritual outpouring is useless if it is mixed with worldliness or falsehood. Thus, we must be diligent, discerning, and intentional about how we refresh ourselves when running low.

What You Are Filled with Matters

If you take the deepest well and begin to pump water out of it at the highest possible volume without ceasing, you will eventually exhaust that well’s resources. It may recover, but it will take time, and the following output levels will be much lower than they originally were. In fact, serious damage may be done, and the well may never return to what it once was. It is the same with our own spiritual output. We must pour ourselves out, but we must also fill ourselves up with what is honoring to God. If we pour ourselves out but never fill ourselves up, then severe damage can be done.

Continual ministry without refilling leads to consequences like burnout, half-hearted service, tainted care, and sin. Though called to pour ourselves out for Christ’s sake, we are not infinite creatures. We are finite, dependent creatures in need of recharging. We are reminded of our limited output every time we require sleep, water, and food; therefore, we need to be constantly recharged. So how can we be recharged?

Sources of Water for the Thirsty Soul

We can’t be filled by just anything—what you are filled by is equally important. We must be recharged by spending time with Christ. Below are three ways that we can be filled in a way that honors Christ:

1. We Must Fill Ourselves with the Word (1 Peter 2:2).

We must not wait until we have run dry before we seek to be refilled. Every day, we must continually replenish ourselves with God’s Word. We must let it encourage us, strengthen us, guide us, and mold us. Then, when we pour ourselves out in service to Christ, what will come out will be the pure water of the Word.

2. We Must Cultivate Our Relationship with Jesus Through Genuine Prayer.

Reading the Bible for the sake of intellect will not replenish a thirsty soul. However, Bible intake paired with genuine, relational prayer will fill up a parched soul with eternal springs of water (John 4:13–14). If we are walking with Jesus, the source of eternal life, we will be satisfied by his water. We must be connected to the Lord’s supply. We will be of minimal use if we are ministering from something other than a thriving relationship with Jesus.

3. We Must Be Replenished in the Context of the Local Church.

Our own personal Bible reading and prayer life can be a source of constant fruit and energy, but our efforts of walking with Jesus are incomplete apart from walking with a congregation of believers. This is by God’s design. Therefore, the local church is the final piece of the puzzle—the icing on the cake—to a full and abundant life of enjoying the treasures of Jesus and pouring them out in service to his name. Every time the church meets together, there is opportunity to be filled up, encouraged, strengthened, enabled, and sent back out to serve the mission of Christ.

Dear Christian, you are called to spend all your resources for the sake of Christ’s glory. But if you do not digest the Word of God regularly, have a vibrant walk with Christ, or be regularly filled in a local church, then your well will run dry. If your heart dries up, then bad things may happen. But Christ is an endless source of life. He can enable us to continue in our service to him. Let us remain connected to him that we may be useful in the King’s service!

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz break down the implications of gospel-centrality beyond the buzzword.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/vuvYp-HqkF0

It’s not all bad. Secret crushes, prayers, wishes, hopes, and ambitions are all normal for young people with optimism about the future and an appropriate desire to become their own person.

However, some secrets should be revealed, not concealed.

• They may have secret insecurities, like questioning their salvation.
• They may have secret doubts about issues like the authority of Scripture.
• They may have secret disciplers—social media influencers who demean women and celebrate greed.
• They may have secret relationships—friends you would not approve of, or a boyfriend you have forbidden.
• They may have secret sins, like pornography or eating disorders.

Why Satan Likes Secrets

It’s easy to see why Satan would want your teenager to keep these struggles a secret. Throughout history, he has always schemed new ways to separate the immature from godly authority. That’s why the enemy of your children’s souls wants them to keep turning to TikTok and Quora for wisdom and counsel, rather than going to their own parents or youth pastor.

But these secrets come with a cost: “Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy” (Prov. 28:13).

So how do you crack open the secret life of your teenager? Ultimately it must be a work of the Lord.

Helping Teenagers Bring Secrets Into the Light

While my wife and I have made plenty of missteps in this stage of parenting, here are a few strategies we found especially effective in moving our teenagers from concealing to revealing their shameful secrets.

1. 1. Encourage Confession. Starting around age 11, I took each of my boys out for weekly “Bible Time.” We would grab a cheap breakfast or coffee treat, go through a book, and ask some accountability questions. And here was the key: I promised my boys that anything they confessed during Bible Time would receive amnesty. Sure, we may implement some common-sense changes to help them with their struggles, but there was no punishment for anything they voluntarily confessed. The message was clear: Confession will be met with grace.
   2. Establish Barriers. Pornography will find your children whether they’re looking for it or not. We put several layers of filtering on all our devices (Canopy being the best), and our only regret is that we didn’t do it earlier—really, as soon as our children were using any internet-capable device. It is important to know that filters need to be monitored carefully because—be warned—they don’t solve the problem of temptation. Some teenagers get an added thrill from getting around the filter and “outsmarting their parents.” Such is the nature of the sinful heart.
   3. Partner with your church. Your children keep secrets from you for two reasons: one, they love you deeply and crave your approval; and two, they fear the consequences of their sin being discovered. This is why I am so thankful for our church. The youth staff see a side of our children that we don’t see. Sometimes we get reports of how they welcome the newcomer and show deep spiritual earnestness, and we rejoice! Other times we are told that our child has been confronted for being a bully or a flirt—and this is where our response is key. If we rally to our teenager’s side and defend them from the youth staff—often with indignant phrases like “My son would never…” or “You don’t know him like I do”—we are stepping between our teenager and the people God is using to help him. We need to remember that adults don’t join youth staff so they can arbitrarily correct kids they don’t like. They join youth staff because they love these kids and want them to follow the Lord. If you receive a bad report about your child, take it seriously. Encourage them to listen to life-giving reproof so they may be wise (Prov. 15:31). If you privately believe the staff to be in error, support them in front of your children, and then address your concerns in private because they may know something you don’t know. Instead of standing with your teenager against the youth pastor, stand with the youth pastor against your teenager’s sin.
   4. Have the Courage to Confront. There is something “off” about your son—he’s always tired, he zones out at church, and he gets angry when you ask him to do anything. You sense something is wrong, and a quick look at his internet history confirms the worst. What to do? You know that if you talk to him about what you found, he’ll lash out and make your home miserable with his surliness. But this is where you need to love your son more than you love your own peace and comfort. When Paul confronted the church of Corinth about their sin, he insisted that he did so “not to cause you pain, but to let you know the abundant love that I have for you” (2 Cor. 2:4). Confrontation is an act of love. No matter how they respond in the moment, forcing their secret life into the light is absolutely necessary for the good of their souls.
   5. Rejoice in Repentance. When your child comes forward, their revelations can be painful—shocking, even. You may weep over the severity of their sin. It may change the way you look at them. You may feel betrayed by their deception and wonder whether you have failed as a parent. But there is rejoicing in heaven over every sinner who repents, and it should be our goal to join in that joy. Realize that it took tremendous courage for your teenager to reveal his secret and bring his dark deeds to light. He now stands before you naked and very much ashamed, and in this moment you have an opportunity to demonstrate your Father’s love by running to him, hugging him, placing your own robe on his shoulders, and slaying the fatted calf to celebrate that what was lost has now been found! Your joyful, gracious response may be the most tangible expression of the hope of the gospel your child has ever experienced.

Ultimately, it is always the kindness of God that leads us to repentance, and I pray that these steps will help you to offer your children God’s own kindness.

The tongue is indeed a fire. In this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss the danger of church gossip.

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The purpose of this article is to offer a brief theology of preaching. Undoubtedly, much more could be said! But I will attempt to offer a brief theology of preaching by answering the following questions: What is preaching? Who is preaching for? How is preaching different from teaching? What is expository preaching? And why is it preferred? I agree with Lloyd Jones’ sentiments that preaching is the primary task of both the church and the minister. I hope that after reading this short article, you will too.

What Is Preaching?

Preaching is the authoritative proclamation of the Word of God. A preacher or “kerux” (Greek transliteration of κηρυξ) in biblical times was a herald or messenger bestowed with authority on behalf of kings, magistrates, or public officials to speak their message. We see Paul call himself a kerux in 1 Timothy 2:7, where he says, “For this I was appointed a preacher (kerux) and an apostle,” and again in 2 Timothy, where he says, “For which I was appointed a preacher (kerux) and an apostle and a teacher.” Therefore, a preacher, in biblical terms, is one who heralds or proclaims God’s message with God’s authority. The preacher does not have authority in his own right, but his authority is derived from the message he proclaims, namely, God’s Word.

Who Is Preaching for?

This question could be answered in different ways based on different situations in which preaching occurs. Some preaching is primarily focused on non-believers. We see Paul doing this at Mars Hill in Acts 17. In our modern context, this type of preaching happens at evangelistic rallies, youth events, Sunday evening services, and in unhealthy churches, where the primary audience is the unbeliever on Sunday mornings. Most preaching, however, is focused upon edifying and equipping believers (Eph. 4:11-16), and this largely occurs during the Sunday morning gathering. In short, preaching is for all people, but the primary recipients will be those already following Christ at a local church.

How Is Preaching Different from Teaching?

There are sundry answers given to try and answer this question. Some have said that preaching is fiery and passionate, whereas teaching is calm and explanatory. Others have said that preaching is simpler, whereas teaching is more complex. Other unhelpful explanations could be mentioned, but the difference between the two is not as complicated as one might think. All preaching must include teaching. If one simply works up meaningless emotion not built on truth, then nothing substantial will ever be accomplished. However, if preaching includes teaching, then what is the difference? If teaching is explaining or illuminating a text or truth, then preaching is explaining or illuminating a text or truth in a proclamatory manner with an attempt to move or persuade the listener. In other words, teaching is explanation, while preaching is explanation coupled with persuasion.

What Is Expository Preaching?

Expository preaching is explaining the original meaning of a text of Scripture and applying that text appropriately to the lives of the modern audience. As Jason Allen has said, “[Expository preaching is] to rightly interpret and explain the text, in its context, and to bring the text to bear on the lives of the congregants.”²

Expository preaching differs from topical preaching in that topical preaching starts with a topic, and then finds a text or several texts that support that topic. Expository preaching starts with a text and then seeks to explain and apply that text. Topical preaching from multiple texts is hard to do well because when one begins to bounce around from text to text in hopes to confirm what they are wanting to say, it is more probable that the texts will be misinterpreted outside of their original context. However, it should be said that a helpful way to preach topical sermons is to preach them expositionally, meaning choose one text where the main point of the text is what you are trying to address, and then preach that text faithfully from its original context.

Why Is Expository Preaching Preferred?

Here are at least 8 reasons expository preaching is the preferable form of preaching:

1. Expository preaching affirms a high view of Scripture. If we truly believe that the Bible is the divinely inspired Word of God, then our primary task should be to walk through the text explaining every part and how it applies to our listener’s lives.
2. Expository preaching matures a congregation most. There is a trickle-down effect from the pulpit to the pew. A church that has a pulpit that honors the text will lead to a people that honor the text. It lets the people see the many facets of Scripture, and it brings all aspects of Scripture to bear on the hearers.
3. Expository preaching teaches the congregation how to read and study their Bible. Faithful expository preaching should leave the listener thinking, “I see exactly how my preacher came to that conclusion. It makes perfect sense considering the context…” This type of preaching breeds confidence that the person in the pew can read their Bible on their own.
4. Expository preaching ensures the sermon’s relevance. Contrary to popular opinion, relevant sermons fall out of date extremely fast. Life and cultural events change in the blink of an eye. Therefore, sermons should not be from the culture but from the text. The more textual sermons are the more perennial the sermon is. In other words, sermons should not have a sell-by date.
5. Expository preaching most matures the preacher as a man of God. Accurate Biblical exposition isn’t easy. It takes time to build the outline, craft the sermon, and apply it to the congregation. This rigorous study has (or at least should have!) an effect on the preacher. It is hard to walk in disobedience when constantly pouring over the text of Scripture.
6. Expository preaching most optimally stewards the preacher’s time. The preacher doesn’t have to spend any unnecessary time searching for a text. The preaching text is largely preset. So, the pastor can pick up where he left off and immediately begin work on the next sermon.
7. Expository preaching displays balance in the pulpit. In other words, expository preaching keeps the preacher from “hobbyhorse” preaching. If done well, the preacher will be forced to “take the text as it lies,” and it will make it harder for him to make every sermon sound the same.
8. Expository preaching forces the preacher to preach on difficult issues that he could normally avoid in topical preaching. All of God’s Word is inspired and should be proclaimed from the pulpit. Expository preaching forces the preacher to be faithful to handle all texts, not just the “feel good” ones.

Conclusion

If preaching is the primary task of the church and the minister, as Lloyd-Jones said, then we must take it seriously. It will not be sufficient for the church to flounder on any of the above questions. Therefore, we must know what preaching is, who it is for, how it is to be faithfully done, etc. Finally, after all these questions are answered (even if briefly!), the final question is “Will there be faithful men to put in the hard work to do it well?”

¹ D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 26.
² Jason K. Allen, Letters to My Students: Preaching, Vol. 1 (Nashville: B&H Publishing, 2019), 38.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/0fjQCqhcTo8

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There’s an epidemic in our churches, and it seems to be true across evangelical, charismatic, mainline Protestant, and Catholic churches. Like most epidemics, it’s invisible but widespread. It’s an epidemic of insecurity. We believers are remarkably insecure. Before you take that as an insult, let me explain. It might just be the key to discovering a freshness, depth, and secure love you’ve never known before.

Insecurity is a state of life where we are not safe and sheltered in someone or something’s strength and affection. Many places are quite unsafe: prison, an open body of water, middle school. And Christianity can also be a deeply insecure place, that is, if we haven’t fully grasped the good news of our union with Christ and adoption.

This is the good news of Christianity: when we put our faith in Jesus, turning from our sins and following him, we are joined to him as one. The Father accepts the Son’s death in our place—the payment for a penalty that our sin has created. We are restored to the Father; he forgives our sins and receives us into his vast and unending love. Like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, he welcomes us gladly and calls for a celebration. Even more, we have inexhaustible spiritual riches in Christ, we are given the Holy Spirit, and, one day, we will be raised with renewed, resurrected bodies to live with God for all eternity in the new creation. Good news, right?

So why then do so many of us struggle to grasp this remarkable life with God? Why do so many Christians believe in Jesus, get their salvation secured, and then go on living a generally unchanged life? Why are so many of us still so timid toward God and others?

I believe it has to do with a limited understanding of God’s love for us, a failure to fully grasp the beauty, power, and security that comes with being a beloved child of God.

Recognizing Insecure Spirituality

Richard Lovelace, a church historian and theologian I have spent the past decade reading and re-reading, put it like this:

Christians who are no longer sure that God loves and accepts them in Jesus, apart from their present spiritual achievements, are subconsciously radically insecure persons—much less secure than non-Christians, because they have too much light to rest easily under the constant bulletins they receive from their Christian environment about the holiness of God and the righteousness they are supposed to have.

Consider what Lovelace is saying. If we believe our standing before God depends on our spiritual achievements (that is, our obedience, our recent Bible reading, our service to the church, tithing, and so on), then we will be radically insecure. In fact, we will be more insecure than even non-Christians, whose conscience doesn’t continually convict them of sin and who aren’t regularly reminded of their need of the gospel.

If this is true (and I believe it is), just think of the way it will shape our lives. A spirituality uncertain of God’s love will always have to perform. It will always have to prove. It will always have to defend. It will always be scheming and striving, and it will never be at rest. An insecure spirituality is a brutal type of life.

Insecure Spirituality Is Always Performing

In our church, we use the phrase “performative spirituality” to describe the default position of our hearts toward God and prayer. I’m not exactly sure where this phrase originates, but I’ve heard it from New York City pastors Jon Tyson and John Starke. Most simply, performative spirituality is performance-based religion. It’s living to get God’s approval and affection. It’s an act to convince yourself you’re becoming a better Christian and more useful to God and others.

Let me be clear: performative spirituality comes straight from the pit of hell. Nothing robs us of more joy. Nothing is more assured to give us either religious pride (if we’re performing well) or spiritual despair (if we’re performing poorly). Nothing is better at producing superficial, impersonal, and powerless prayers.

Why? Because the performance-based approach to Christianity puts us on a stage to earn God’s acceptance and approval. That’s the extent of our relationship with him. That’s the best we get with this spiritual posture. It’s an exhausting posture, and Scripture says nothing good of it.

Diagnosing Our Own Hearts

Have you been living by the wrong posture? Have you been prevented from receiving the embrace of the Father because you’re too busy trying to impress him and others? Have you been held back from a deeper life with God by your ownincessant need to strive, hide, and try every possible path of self-improvement?

Millions of believers read their Bibles, (sort of) pray, and go to church with decent regularity, and yet they are simultaneouslydry spiritually and unchanged in their Christlikeness. They may read of God’s power and love every day. They may hear the gospel week after week. But none of it seems to make a practical difference. They are still insecure, day after day. Despite all they know and do, their natural posture in life looks like this:

Posture
​​God is my boss, I am his servant;
God is the critic, I am the performer

Default mode
​I’m on my own;
nothing good happens unless I make it happen

God’s view of me​
God wants me to do better;
he’s a bit disappointed, or He is distant and busy;
he’s not actively engaged in my life, or
God is fine with things as long as I perform decently enough

Toward others​
I live to be seen by others, craves their approval
I greatly fear being exposed as a fraud
I tend to be critical, comparative, competitive, easily angered, easily hurt
I often see others as a threat or a burden

Present to others​
I am conditional and distant
I am always comparing—constantly aware of where I (and others) rank

Finds comfort
​​I find comfort in busyness, addiction, distraction, and empty religious activity—whatever makes me look good or feel appreciated

Toward time
​​I am typically in a hurry, I struggle to slow down and rest

In the church​
I seek positions of honor, power, and influence

Prayer​​
My prayers are sporadic, scattered, and distracted
I often feel guilty: “I should pray more”

Suffering
​I am non-resilient, unable to handle challenges and trials of life without bitterness
​​​I view suffering as a sign that God is not with me or against me

Unfortunately, this chart wasn’t difficult for me to create. I am so familiar with the orphan’s heart that it’s still so regularly my default mode. I’ve been grinding all my life. I’ve been working and scheming and defending and protecting and projecting. Why? Because I assume everything depends on me. Even when I say otherwise, my actions and stress level suggest it. And from my years of pastoring, I know that I’m not alone in this struggle.

So, what can we do?

Releasing and Replacing Insecure Spirituality

If I remember anything from my infectious disease studies in college, in an epidemic, we must notice common symptoms, identify the cause, and find a cure for the infection.

Lucky for us, we’re two-thirds of the way through. We’ve already listed the common symptoms above (insecure spirituality list), and we’ve already identified the cause (performance-based living). What’s left is to embrace the cure: putting off the orphan’s heart and regaining our child’s heart – one trained in receiving the love of our Father.

Said another way, the cure is to release insecure spirituality and replace it with something much better. After all, the orphan’s heart will never be satisfied. It’s looking for its Father all along. Nothing else will do. Getting the love of the Father deep into our hearts is the only way.

At this point, we might see the presence of insecure spirituality in our hearts and turn to guilt and obedience. “Don’t be insecure!” we tell ourselves. Sadly, many sermons and counseling sessions can do the same: “Stop worrying!” The subtle message we can turn to is just another version of performance-based religion—“Just try harder.” But this is not a work of willpower; it’s a gift of the Holy Spirit, one that we participate in by God’s grace, releasing and replacing insecurity spirituality.

The gospel reminds us we already have everything we need—and we have it in abundance in Christ!

Once we recognize our insecurity, then, we can also release and replace. We can release insecurity and replace it with the Father’s love. While it sounds too simple to be true, it is a pattern that will be fruitful over and over again as we walk in the childlike faith that Jesus commends.

In other words, another kind of life is available to us. Once we have identified the source of our insecurity, and traced how it shows up in a performance-based lifestyle, we’ll be able to pull it up from the roots.

This lie from the pit of hell can be dragged out into the light and left to suffocate and die in the light of God’s love. And instead, a different type of life can take root in the good soil of Jesus’s life.

And once we’ve identified, broken, and released this insecure, performative spirituality, a confident new life of prayer can be opened to us.

As my mentor-friend Scotty Smith likes to say, “You can hear the lyric of the gospel and still not feel the music.” This is what performative spirituality does best; it robs our lives of its rhythm and dance. But if we can identify and uproot this performance-based mentality, we can break the cycle and be renewed in our minds.

This, then, is God’s invitation for you and for me: Release your insecure spirituality and enjoy life as a beloved child!

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/kkODyylmR10

As a football fan, you’re immediately interested and begin to ask him questions. “Really,” you say. “Who do you play for?”

“Oh, I’m not on a team,” he responds.

“Well, who did you play for in college?”

Again, Rico answers, “I didn’t play on my college team.”

“How about high school?”

“No, I didn’t play on my high school team.”

At this point, you’re a little puzzled and ask, “So, what team do you or did you play quarterback for?”

“I’ve played quarterback my whole life, but I’ve never been on a football team. Teams are full of hypocrites. I don’t need a team to play.”

“Help me understand. If you’re not on a team, how do you play quarterback, Rico?” you ask.

“While they’re at the stadium playing games, I usually go out in the woods by myself and throw the football through a tire swing. It clears my mind. I feel like I’m connecting to the essence of football. It’s more authentic than those quarterbacks who play on teams.”

The quarterback in this story sounds delusional, doesn’t he? After all, a self-proclaimed quarterback who never joins a team and only plays alone isn’t really a quarterback at all, is he? The lone woodsman claiming to be a quarterback makes about as much sense as a Christian who never attends a church service but only worships alone.

Now, you may be thinking, “Worship is much broader than gathering with God’s people on Sunday.” In one sense, that’s true. All of life should be lived in worshipful response to God’s goodness and grace. The Apostle Paul urges believers to offer their whole life to God as spiritual worship and to do everything including eating and drinking for God’s glory. However, Scripture holds forth a clear expectation for all Christians: God expects His people to worship with His people.

When we say that “every member is a worshipper,” we mean that every Christian should be committed to attending the weekly gathering in order to listen to the Word of Christ with one another, sing with gratitude together, and then walk in wisdom alongside their fellow church members. This is the pattern of the first Christians, who gathered regularly for worship.

A holistic life of Christian worship is only possible within a local church because the church is not “simply a bunch of individual worshippers who happen to be in the same place and time. Individual worship is a subset that flows out of corporate worship,” as David A. Currie writes in “The Big Idea of Biblical Worship.” You can’t offer all of your life to God as worship if you refuse to offer Him Sunday morning to worship with the church.

Editor’s note: This post is excerpted with permission from Every Member Matters, by Joshua Wredburg and Matthew Capps. Copyright 2025, B&H Publishing.

Preaching and Teaching

Preaching is, perhaps, the most vital element of a Gospel-centered church. Mark Dever says in his book The Church, “God’s people in Scripture are created by God’s revelation of himself. His Spirit accompanies his Word and brings life.”¹ If this is true, then the most important thing for churches to do is to proclaim the Word of life. Each church’s growth and godliness depend upon it, hence Paul’s charge to Timothy, “I solemnly charge you before God and Christ Jesus, who is going to judge the living and the dead, and because of his appearing and his kingdom: Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and encourage with great patience and teaching” (2 Tim. 4:1-2).

It should go without saying that preaching the Word entails clearly preaching the Gospel. Every sermon or teaching expounded from the Scriptures should find its terminus in the Gospel of Jesus Christ because it is by the Gospel that nonbelievers are saved and believers are sanctified. But I don’t simply mean that every sermon must conclude with a Gospel presentation; rather, the entire sermon is crafted through the lens of the finished work of Christ on our behalf. How one presents the Gospel or shapes a Gospel-centered sermon can vary depending upon the specific passage and context of the preacher.

Thus, the most foundational aspect of a Gospel-centered church is that it is Gospel-centered in its preaching and teaching.

Membership and Discipline

The Gospel creates a people set apart for God. Within the body of Christ, there should be a clear line between those who are “in” and those who are “out.” The “in” aspect represents church membership, and the “out” aspect represents the lost world or those who are undergoing church discipline as a result of living like a non-believer. We see this very clearly in 1 Corinthians 5, where Paul charges the church to ex-fellowship a man who was unrepentant concerning gross sin. Paul writes, “Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. ‘Purge the evil person from among you’” (1 Cor. 5:12-13). The important question this text raises is, “How can churches judge those on the inside if they don’t know who is on the inside?” Therefore, for the church to be able to practice church discipline as it is biblically mandated to do, it is fundamental for church membership to be taken seriously. Church membership protects and marks off those who have been saved by the glorious Gospel of God, and church discipline warns and rebukes those who profess faith but who are not living in accord with the Gospel. The church cannot have one without the other, and a church that doesn’t take church membership and church discipline seriously is a church that doesn’t take the Gospel seriously. They may profess to, but if they don’t honor the clear distinctions that the Gospel makes by separating the church from the world, then their profession falls flat. It would be like someone saying they take their health seriously while simultaneously eating nothing but junk food and never exercising. Thus, a Gospel-centered church takes church membership and church discipline seriously.

Worship and Liturgy

Gospel-centered churches should structure their weekly services to display the Gospel. When the body comes together, the order of service should not be haphazard. There is a way to structure the service that continually points the members of the body to the Gospel. This is primarily demonstrated by having a Gospel-centered liturgy. For example, a typical liturgy should feature the following: a call to worship, which represents the fact that God has called us and that He is worthy of our worship and adoration; a confession of sin, which reminds us of our continual need to repent and to turn from our sin and shame to embrace the sanctifying work of the Gospel; an assurance of pardon, which reminds us of the true forgiveness we have found in the blood of Christ; and hearing the preached Word so that we can grow in Christlikeness and obedience.

In addition to the service structure, the content of the service should be driven by the Bible. Ligon Duncan has helpfully pointed out that churches that follow the teaching of the New Testament “Read the Bible, preach the Bible, pray the Bible, sing the Bible, and see the Bible.”² If we have a gospel-centered church, then our service structure and content will readily reflect the Bible.

Why Do We Need a Gospel-Centered Church?

If everything that has been stated so far is true, then the answer to the question “Why do we need a Gospel-centered church?” is not complicated. First, the Gospel is “the power of God for salvation” (Rom. 1:16). Churches can be built upon gimmicks, personalities, entertainment, relationships, and much more, but these things, in and of themselves, have no power. The power that creates a true church is the Gospel.

Second, the Gospel not only creates the church, but it also sustains the church. Oftentimes, churches can look to everything but the Gospel to sustain its people. They try a smorgasbord of options, from the latest church growth techniques to secular relationship advice. This stems from thinking that the Gospel is elementary and that it is something from which you graduate. In reality, the church needs a constant flow of the Gospel as a sick patient needs to be sustained with a constant flow of medicine. Thus, when a church begins to think that it can be sustained by anything but the Gospel, that is the moment the church begins to die.

Third and finally, a church that is not centered upon the Gospel is of no real use, humanly speaking. Sure, it may be temporally encouraging for people to gather once a week and associate with people of whom they are fond, but if the Gospel is absent, then there is not much separating them from the group of atheists gathering down the road for the same purposes. God, through the Gospel, produces eternal change. If we want our churches to have eternal ramifications for both ourselves and our communities, then we must be centered upon the means by which God brings about this change, namely, the good news of His Son, Jesus Christ.

¹ Mark Dever, The Church: The Gospel Made Visible (Nashville: B&H, 2012), 22.

² Ligon Duncan, Foundations for Biblically Directed Worship. 65-68.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/CXehp6ar_Ng

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Gates, the tech giant, famously takes one or two weeks a year to retreat to his secluded cabin on a lake and read as much as possible — no phone, no meetings, no distractions, just a towering stack of books.

Reeves, the theologian, once shared his rhythm of deep reading: one hour a week, one day a month, one week a year. Both men, in their own fields, had seen the fruit of setting aside time for slow, undistracted, focused reading.

That vision stuck with me.

So now, as a pastor, I take what I cautiously call “reading dayz” each year — usually two to three weeks in the summer. It’s not a formal sabbatical, and I try to communicate that clearly to both my family and my church. But it is carved out, protected time to read deeply, think theologically and let the Lord recalibrate my heart through uninterrupted, aggressive study.

The Shape of the Days

Each year, I choose one doctrine or theological theme — justification, the Holy Spirit, Lloyd-Jones’ sermons on Ephesians, etc. — and build a reading plan three to six months in advance. My days typically follow a rhythm: intermediate-level material in the morning, heavier or more intensive works over lunch into the afternoon and conclude the day with beginner-level material.

During those reading days, I cancel or delegate my usual pastoral responsibilities, including counseling, sermon prep, formal and informal meetings, adult Sunday school and even preaching. Trusted men from within our church step into the pulpit. I still lead the liturgical elements of the service, but I’m not carrying the sermon. I work 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., either in my office or in a quiet space at a friend’s house. Evenings are reserved for family, journaling, the gym or phone calls with friends.

Thanks to the generosity of a friend, my family and I usually schedule a one- to three-day retreat in the middle of my overall reading days period. We’ll stay at someone’s home, where I keep reading during the day while the rest of the family rests and plays. In the evenings, we regroup for dinner, do bedtime with the kids and enjoy late-night gospel conversations with friends. It’s both restful and rich.

The Fruit It Bears

These reading days sharpen me, but more than that, they shape our church. Hopefully, over time, the congregation will see that the study of theology isn’t just for the pastor’s time in seminary or for the professor in an ivory tower. It’s for both pastors and the church today. It’s certainly helpful for preaching. But it’s also for life, like in sports, where athletes devote weeks of intense practice, drills and workouts before entering the stretch of a long season.

Reading days remind our members that a pastor should be theologically sharp, biblically astute and spiritually renewed. It creates space for other men to teach and grow as they preach. It gives me a break from preaching — but not from ministry. If anything, it deepens my commitment to it.

Most importantly, it fills me with gratitude — grateful to the God I’m reading about, and grateful for the people I’m reading for. I’m thankful for a church that values study and depth, my elders who champion and defend the time, and a wife who believes it’s good. I’m thankful for a rhythm that keeps me from running on fumes. And I’m grateful for a God who forms pastors not only through preaching, but also in the quiet corners of a study.

What It’s Not

These aren’t vacation days. I gently remind my wife (and myself) that when I hole up with Edwards or Kuyper or Smeaton, I’m not “off.” Our church has entrusted me with time to work differently — but still diligently.

And I don’t read for anyone but my church. I’m not building a platform, prepping for publishing or expanding my ministry. I get to read as a pastor of my local church — for the people I know, love and shepherd week after week. 

Final Word

You don’t need an official policy to start dedicated reading days. Just start small. Block out a few days. Or a week. Or even one afternoon. If there’s no one else yet in your church to take the pulpit, swap with a like-minded brother across town. Find a space. Make a plan. And open the books.

Deep reading isn’t a detour from ministry — it serves to sustain it. Reading days may not be flashy, but they are fruitful. They can be a hidden yet profound way God uses to make your calling more thoughtful and joyful.

“Give yourself unto reading. … You need to read.”
— Charles Spurgeon, Lectures to My Students, “The Minister’s Self-Watch”

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/Pz2zH5b9OeY

__________
By: Jason G. Duesing

Why am I a Southern Baptist?

This is one question I ask students taking the required Baptist history class I teach. I ask it because every generation of Baptist seminary students asks it, or will ask it, or needs to ask it, and I want them to know how I answer it and have arrived at my answer with cheerful conviction.

While it is true that there are many Protestant and Evangelical churches who are like-minded and share the same core convictions about doctrine and missions as the Baptists, for those preparing to serve and lead Baptist churches, my course is designed to help them understand, develop, and defend their convictions about the ecclesial tradition to which their church is connected.¹

A High View of a Low and Free Church

Like a coin with two sides, the Baptist tradition is a story that must be told in both history and theology. To look only at the historical development minimizes the theological foundation of important pre-Baptist influences. To look only at theological connections minimizes the actual events and people in history who referred to themselves as Baptist by name. As such, it is right to see the theological start of Baptist churches as rooted in the Protestant Reformation, even while the chronicling of churches named Baptist does not appear in history until a century later in England.²

Keeping both history and theology in view is what I call a “symphonious approach” to assessing movements in history.³ Just like with a symphony of music, history and theology represent diverse and complementary components; each play an overlapping part that, when examined together, produces a comprehensive piece. For example, while it is helpful to determine who were the first people in history to name something or start something, it is also necessary to understand what thoughts influenced their actions and how those thoughts fit into the development of those people and those around them.

In the same way, where it is helpful to examine why churches first adopted the practice of believer’s baptism—what they were thinking and how they made their theological argument—it is needed to understand who these people were, how they arrived at their conclusions, and the cultural circumstances that influenced their thinking and actions. A symphonious approach allows the movements of both history and theology to play together and presents both well-ordered history and well-reasoned theology without the distractions of prioritized chronology or doctrine separated from people and churches.

As my class tracks the symphony of both Baptist theology and history, I summarize the theological distinctives that grew throughout the history of the Baptist tradition this way:

(1) A people of the Bible who preach the gospel and have found it helpful to summarize what the Bible says about the Christian life in confessions of faith. (2) The practice of believer’s baptism by immersion as the entrance to a (3) believer’s church that is (4) free and separate from the state and thus advocates religious freedom for all in society while (5) seeking to share the gospel with all in society and to the ends of the earth in an intentional and organized Great Commission focus on evangelism and missions, all done through (6) biblical cooperation among churches.⁴

I like to condense all these distinctives into the two categories of church health and religious liberty, advocated by and from the Gospel. Or to put it another way, Baptists have a high view of a low and free church.

Why Baptists first became Baptist

Next in my class, I pair this understanding of what Baptists believe with how they developed those beliefs in history. The Baptist Tradition’s connection to the Reformation is like that of a tree to its roots. What connects later Baptist churches in England to 16th century doctrinal renewal in Europe is rooted in the Reformation’s recovery of the Gospel as expressed in the five solas: Scripture alone, faith alone, grace alone, Christ alone, to the glory of God alone. Later Baptists demonstrate this connection through their confessions of faith, which sought to maintain connectivity both to the core doctrines of the Christian tradition, as well as those renewed during the Reformation. The doctrine of the church is where they branched from those roots, following the path started by the Anabaptists—a pre-Baptist wing of the Reformation who championed the separation of church and state as marked by the practice of believer’s baptism.⁵

The story of Baptist cooperation in England in the 17th century is one of survival. Rooted in the English Reformation, these early Baptists were the heirs of a renewal movement that was fueled by access to the Bible in English. This led them to pursue their convictions to form separate self-governed churches. Yet, this early movement was illegal, and their existence was threatened by the state Church of England that forbade participation in other worship services.

At this point in my class, I tell my students that I love evangelical Anglicans and the wider evangelical tradition. I’ve been helped theologically and in my own spiritual formation by the Puritans, C. S. Lewis, and J. I. Packer. In fact, as all believers who read the Bible in English are, in some sense, heirs of the English Reformation, it is my favorite era in church history to teach.6

Yet, though a friend of evangelical Anglicans, like the earliest Baptists, I do not hold to their doctrine of the church. As I grew up in the Episcopalian-Anglican church, I was asked years ago to write an essay in which I aimed to evaluate Anglican ecclesiology historically and theologically.⁷ Here are my conclusions:

First, even though Anglicanism is officially separate from Roman Catholicism politically and otherwise, there remains an inherent connection through their polity and specifically through their continued use of the hierarchical system of church leadership. As Anglican historian Diarmaid MacCulloch states, “[T]he story of Anglicanism, and the story of the discomfiture of Elizabeth’s first bishops, is the result of the fact that this tension between Catholic structure and Protestant theology was never resolved.”⁸ Without this connection there would not be the reoccurring talks of the Church of England returning to the “Mother Church.”⁹ A cousin once removed from Roman Catholicism, the Church of England still bears a family resemblance.

Second, in the history of the Church of England there are very few who attempt to make a biblical case for their offices of church leadership. Even if one appeals to the secondary nature of these doctrines, the New Testament is not silent about the matter and the biblical evidence leans strongly in favor of the argument that the terms for bishop and elder are used interchangeably.¹⁰

Third, while an appeal to Scripture is lacking, the overwhelming reliance upon tradition is the very thing that causes the complexity and confusion within the Anglican Communion when seeking to understand church leadership. The use of tradition is a helpful tool but in the end, remains a record of the activities and constructions of failed men and women. Tradition is needed and helpful, but it is not Scripture.¹¹

To tie everything together in my class, I underscore that the Baptist movement began in England as small groups of men and women met to establish themselves in churches, separated from the state Church of England, and then sought fellowship with other churches around common beliefs and practice. This early confessional cooperation grew out of, and centered around, the Reformation program of doctrinal renewal which led to the recovery of the biblical Gospel message. Baptists, then, first became Baptist following this pattern and emerged from the study of what they understood the Bible to say about the local church.

A Fleet Sailing Together

As these Baptist churches gained strength, they crossed to the New World and grew into a fleet of churches sailing together, united in doctrine and headed in Great Commission direction. By the start of the 19th century, Baptist churches determined that the primary reason for cooperating as a national denomination of churches was simple: global missions.

The picture of churches as ships sailing is fitting for understanding where one fits in relationship to Southern Baptist churches as it conveys, first, that they are not the only ships at sea. There are many churches, of course, but not all have set sail, and not all are headed in the direction of global evangelism. Thus, it is helpful for believers, and believers together in churches, to find partners who not only agree with their design and beliefs, but also with their shared trajectory. Not all churches aiming to fulfill the Great Commission are Baptist churches, and wherever possible Baptist churches can and should sail with those with whom they can unite in evangelism and missions. Likewise, as Baptist churches seek to start new churches to add to their fleet, they will find safe harbor and maximized mission when they work with other Baptist churches who not only are sailing in the same direction, but also are united on what kinds of churches they are seeking to fund and start together at the ends of the earth.

Second, the picture conveys that these ships do need to tend to their own vessels to maximize speed and stay on course. To stay afloat in the world for Gospel proclamation, Baptist churches have found the need to prioritize their own doctrinal and congregational health. These ships will, no doubt, encounter storms without and conflict within. A church who has lost its first love may also lose the Spirit’s enabling wind-power behind it. Baptist churches at sea need to minimize any hindrance that would pull them off course.

Third, this picture conveys that individuals can serve and live on one ship at a time. While circumstance may dictate the need for believers to change churches, for most the norm is continuing to serve on the ship where one is placed. When a sailor is counting on the buoyancy of his ship for his life and safe travel, he is far more likely to look after the health and heading of the ship. It is a picture of foolishness to see sailors lounging on the top deck complaining about their ship, or envying another ship nearby, when their own is languishing due to their lack of effort. Thus, Baptist churches are more likely to be strengthened, revitalized, and steered back on course when their members are focused on thankfulness for the ship on which they have been placed, the fleet in which they are a part, and using their gifts to help keep that ship, and fleet, on course.

Why I am a Southern Baptist

When I complete my lectures on Baptist church history in seminary classes, I end by reminding them that the Baptist cooperative fleet of ships is not alone. There are many other ships from other corners of the Christian tradition committed to the Gospel and sailing in a Great Commission direction. What I mean to acknowledge is that no one is required to be a Southern Baptist to be a faithful Christian.

So, then, why am I committed to the churches of the Southern Baptist Convention?

I remind the students that for me, as much as it is a matter of joyful conviction about what I understand as biblical ecclesiology, it is also a matter of personal stewardship and testimony. I share with them how God, in his kindness during my college years, called out and saved a spiritually lost, Christian-in-name-only-Episcopalian and placed me in a Baptist church sailing with other churches in the Southern Baptist Convention. On that ship, I was discipled, baptized, and loved by a genuine New Testament community of believers.

Over time, that church recognized God’s work in my life and sent me to seminary. They, along with thousands of other churches, gave sacrificially in cooperative effort to fund my theological education and, more than that, ensured that the seminary they funded maintained doctrinal integrity. Through that same inter-congregational cooperative work, I have visited the mission fields of the world and have seen and contributed to the work of these churches at the ends of the earth. Seeing the end goal of the Great Commission bearing fruit as the result of churches working together has long been what has made me thankful for the Southern Baptist ship on which I first set sail.

To be consistent with my students, I am honest about the sins, faults, and distractions that have beset this Convention of churches and hindered their progress at various points in history. However, I gladly tell them that the end goal is still worthy of pursuit and worth the effort to help all the ships of churches sail in that Great Commission direction. From small groups in 17th century England, Baptist churches have persevered to hold inter-congregational cooperation in doctrinal confession and missionary endeavor as a key distinctive. As I love to tell my students, this story is worthy of retelling to inspire ongoing renewal of Baptist churches of the present and future as they carry out the same mission.

In every sense, I hope my students see that I am like the earliest Baptists: thankful for where I have been placed and what I have received, now serving with joy in confessional cooperation, joining with others in Southern Baptist churches to reach the nations for Christ and for the glory of God.

Footnotes:
¹ For more on how these theological distinctives formed in history and an expanded version of this article see my chapter “Cooperation in Baptist Beginnings, 1609-1845” in A Unity of Purpose, Tony Wolfe and W. Madison Grace II, eds. (B&H, 2025).
² Baptist historians have long debated Baptist beginnings. For a survey of views see James M. Stayer, Werner Packull, and Klaus Deppermann, “From Monogenesis to Polygenesis: The Historical Discussion of Anabaptist Origins,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 49:2 (Apr 1975): 83-121; William H. Brackney, A Genetic History of Baptist Thought (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 2004); Timothy George, “Dogma Beyond Anathema: Historical Theology in Service of the Church,” in Review and Expositor 84:4 (Fall 1987): 691-713.
³ Jason G. Duesing, “Pre-beginnings,” in John D. Massey, Mike Morris, and W. Madison Grace II, Make Disciples of All Nations: A History of Southern Baptist International Missions (Kregel Academic, 2021),37.
⁴ Jason G. Duesing, “Baptist Contributions to the Christian Tradition,” in Christopher W. Morgan, Matthew Y. Emerson, R. Lucas Stamps, eds., Baptists and the Christian Tradition (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2020), 339.
⁵ For more see my article, “Preaching Against the State: The Persecution of the Anabaptists as an Example for 21st Century Evangelicals,” 14:2 (2015):54-82.
⁶ A portion of this appreciation can be seen in this essay I wrote for Themelios that surveys 500 years of evangelical preaching in Oxford. “Beacons from the Spire: Evangelical Theology and History in Oxford’s University Church,” (2024).
⁷ See my chapter “A Wrinkle on Catholicism: The Anglican Understanding of Church Government,” in Thomas R. Schreiner and Benjamin L. Merkle, eds. Shepherding God’s Flock: Church Leadership in the New Testament and Beyond (Kregel, 2014).
⁸ Diarmaid MacCulloch, The Later Reformation in England, 1547-1603 (New York: Palgrave, 2001), 29.
⁹ Madeleine Teagan, “Historic Mass celebrated by papal nuncio at Anglican cathedral in rare event,” Catholic News Agency, July 9, 2025.
¹⁰ See Gregg R. Allison, Sojourners and Strangers: The Doctrine of the Church (Wheaton: Crossway, 2012), 260, and Benjamin L. Merkle, The Elder and Overseer: One Office in the Early Church (New York: Peter Lang, 2003).
¹¹ For more on the role of tradition see my chapter “Baptist Contributions to the Christian Tradition,” in Christopher W. Morgan, Matthew Y. Emerson, R. Lucas Stamps, eds., Baptist and the Christian Tradition (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2020).

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/d7K78bcfIsc

It seems like everyone today is talking about “identity” and discovering Who am I? Discovering your identity helps you know what you want your life to represent. It gives you direction for decision-making and helps you find a like-minded community of people who share your values and purpose. But most of these conversations about identity overlook the foundation of who we are: our humanity. How in the world can we answer Who am I? if we never answer What am I? Understanding our identity as human beings is foundational for understanding our identity as individuals. That’s why I’ve written this book: I want to help you discover what it means that you are created in the image of God so you can live an iconic life that represents him faithfully in your world.

It’s easy to curate your social media profile to make yourself look however you want, even if it’s not an honest representation of who you really are. A selfie here, a collaboration there, and carefully selecting your likes can portray you to be whomever you want to be. You get to craft your own image. But that only changes people’s perception of you, not your actual identity. This is why so many of your peers look like they’re living their best lives even though they’re struggling with insecurity or loneliness or fear. They are so focused on how they appear that they don’t really know who they are.

The Bible tells us that God created people in his image. The Greek word that’s used for image in the New Testament is the word eikon, which is where we get the English word icon. People are living “icons” of God in this world. That leads us to a helpful and understandable way to think about what it means to be created in the image of God: We are iconic of God. We are living icons, pointing to the greater reality of who God is and what he’s like. This book will lead you through Scripture to explore and apply what that means for you and me.

In short, the question this book seeks to address is this: What does it mean to live as icons of Christ in this world?

What Is the Image of God Anyway?
The Bible teaches that God created people “in the image of God.” Genesis 1:26–27 says, “Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness.’ . . . So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”

One of the most foundational ways we bear God’s image is through the attributes we share with him. We are like God in many ways. God is the Creator, and so we create. God exists in eternal community within himself, and we crave community with one another. Chapter 8 will explore the “communicable attributes” in further detail. They are traits that every person shares, to some degree, with God: love, knowledge, wisdom, goodness, etc. In this way, we bear God’s image within our humanity, even though many take these traits for granted as evolutionary survival skills. In this regard, bearing God’s image means that every person is actually like God because he created us with some of his own attributes embedded into our human nature. This God-given dignity has led some to believe people are divine themselves, with no need for God at all. As ironic as that is, even this false view of humanity displays that the innate glory and honor God has given to his image-bearers is obvious to all, even those who may deny his existence. In this sense, we don’t simply bear God’s image—we are his image in this world.¹ This is an irremovable characteristic of what it means to be human.

The book of Genesis was originally written in Hebrew. Two Hebrew words in Genesis 1:26–27 point to two sides of the same truth about how and why God created humanity: tzelem, meaning “image” and demuth, meaning “likeness.” A tzelem was a physical representation that a king would set up to remind people about his power and authority (see Daniel 3:1). Being made in God’s image and likeness means men and women were created as God’s representatives to uniquely carry out his ongoing work in creation. Our very existence is a living reminder of God’s reign and glory and provision.

Every person bears the image of God. The “image of God” is both what we are and what we do. It’s embedded within what it means to be a human being. God created us to be and to bear his image in a way that lifts others’ eyes to behold his character and goodness in us. Sin has affected our ability to do this, but it hasn’t removed the God-given dignity he wove into our humanity. The worst sinner remains God’s tzelem in this world, in the sense that what they are is a living reminder of his divine nature and goodness in this world. Everyone bears God’s image, but sin has corrupted the way we bear it, so we seek our own glory and build our own kingdoms. Through the gospel, God’s image-bearers are forgiven of their sin and conformed into the image of God through faith in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Christians bear God’s glory according to God’s good design in order that all creation would see our good works and give glory to our Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16).

Why the Image of God Matters for You
Nearly every controversial issue in our culture today finds its resolution in the image of God. If the Bible’s message is true and God created humans in his image, then it radically transforms the way Christians approach issues like racism, gender and sexuality, abortion, mental health, injustice, disability, and euthanasia, among others. This biblical foundation shifts the conversation away from a matter of opinion and toward what human flourishing (for individuals and cultures to be healthy and full of joy) looks like according to our Creator’s good design. For example, racism is sinful and wrong because of the way it fundamentally undermines what it means to be a human being, not merely because of the harm it causes to individuals. The same principle applies to gender identity and abortion and a host of other issues. This isn’t an attempt to provide a simplistic answer to complicated issues. But without understanding the biblical message about men and women as image-bearers, we’re left without a firm foundation for these important issues.

Understanding the image of God is the missing link in the many conversations about identity. It’s like we’re trying to figure out our individual stories without realizing that we’re characters in a bigger story that’s being told. God’s story for humanity begins in creation, has important chapters throughout that helps us understand what’s gone wrong, and it gives us hope to endure because the story ends in glory. God created people to enjoy perfect intimacy with him and with one another as his image-bearers in this world.

Sin has twisted us so we’re divided—against God and one another—and tempts us to take the glory of God’s image and claim it as our own, trying to exert our power to establish our own kingdoms. But instead of giving up on us or abandoning us, God promised a Savior who came to restore the intimacy between God and people so that we would bear God’s image well and be restored into relationship with each other too. One day, sin and the corruption it has introduced into the world will be wiped away, and we will live for all eternity in God’s presence with perfect intimacy as his image-bearers. This is the bigger story that your identity fits into. Without it, you’re left on your own to define your own reality and to choose your own adventure. Although this might sound like freedom, this mindset confines you to a life that’s limited by your own wisdom, whereas embracing your God-given calling leads you into a life that is filled with God’s steadfast love.

It’s common to hear people talk about how iconic superstars like LeBron James or Taylor Swift represent the best in their respective fields. We, as God’s image-bearers, are living icons of God in this world. People are God’s living tzelem in his kingdom. We are living displays of God’s glory and reign in his creation. This is why God commanded Israel, “You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them” (Exodus 20:4–5).² Israel didn’t need to create an image for God to remind them of his glory and presence because God had already placed his image among them!

It’s so common to talk about identity in terms of Who am I?, but I want to encourage you to consider the question of identity through the question What am I? Until we ask that question, we’ll continue to struggle to understand our identity. So many of the challenges we face today, as individuals and as a broader culture, flow from the reality that we’ve forgotten what it means to be a human being. The image of God doesn’t merely inform how we are to act and treat others; it’s an aspect of what we are as humans. As men and women who were created in God’s image, you and I have God-given dignity and value that has nothing to do with what we do. Our dignity and value isn’t determined by our GPA or resume; it’s built into us as icons of the living God who is King over creation. The way God created us as his image-bearers has a direct impact on our relationships.

Questions for Reflection

1. Have you ever thought about what it means for humans to be created in God’s image? What does that phrase mean to you?
2. What do we lose when we forget that we are cre­ated in God’s image? Why is this biblical message so important?
3. What does the author mean by “living an iconic life”? How does this flow from being created in God’s image?

Footnotes

¹For more on this emphasis, see Carmen Joy Imes, Being God’s Image: Why Creation Still Matters (InterVarsity, 2023).

²A different Hebrew word is used in this passage for image because it’s a specific word for an idol (an image that you worship).

Excerpted from Iconic: Being God’s Image in Your World © 2025 by Mike McGarry. Used with permission of New Growth Press. May not be reproduced without prior written permission.

There was a season when my spiritual life felt suspended between routine and emptiness. I read my Bible faithfully, yet the words felt flat; I prayed, but my voice seemed swallowed by silence. The rhythms of grace remained, yet the fire of transformation felt distant.

Nothing was broken, and yet it seemed as if nothing was growing.

But in time, I began to see the stillness not as absence but as preparation. Beneath the quiet surface, a hidden work was unfolding. It is the work that only God perceives, the silent shaping of the soul.

This is how God often moves: slowly, patiently, invisibly, crafting growth while our eyes are elsewhere. Until, one day, we realize we have grown.

Scriptural Patterns of Patient Formation

The Bible is filled with stories of faithful waiting and unseen growth.

Moses shepherded sheep in Midian for decades before leading God’s people. David tended flocks in obscurity long before the throne. Ruth gleaned quietly in foreign fields before redemption found her. And Jesus Himself lived thirty years in hidden obedience before stepping into public ministry.

These are not mere backstories. They are the very foundation of God’s redemptive pattern—a divine preference for depth over speed.

Charles Spurgeon captured this well when he wrote, “By perseverance the snail reached the ark.” The pace may be slow, but the promise remains sure.

Jesus said the Kingdom of God is like a seed growing silently (Mark 4:26–29), sprouting even when no one watches, blooming in God’s perfect timing. There is grace in this quiet process—growth we cannot force but only trust.

Fruitfulness Beyond Visibility

Perhaps you find yourself in such a season now. Where the disciplines of faith feel heavy. Where you show up to prayer and Scripture, wondering if your efforts mean anything.

Know this: You are not behind. You are not forgotten. You are being formed in ways that matter most.

God calls us to faithfulness, not flashiness. Paul speaks of transformation “from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18)—a steady, sacred progression.

Robert Murray M’Cheyne reminds us, “It is not great talents God blesses so much as great likeness to Jesus.” Often, this likeness is sewn in the quiet moments unseen by others.

Growth in Christ is rarely glamorous, but it is always good.

The Long View of Grace

The patient work of God in the hidden places points to a greater purpose: His glory and our good. Every quiet season, every moment of waiting, contributes to a story far larger than immediate circumstances.

As Philippians 1:6 assures, “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion.” The unseen shaping of character and faith is a testament to God’s steadfast love and power.

This truth invites us to trust not in fleeting feelings or rapid results, but in the eternal promises of the One who holds time and growth in His hands. The slow, steady work of grace is God’s faithful artistry, creating beauty for His glory and our deepest flourishing.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/V7dBxF5nxTc

Hang on, who is this fast-talking, lie-spitting snake?! Aren’t Adam and Eve supposed to have dominion of the beasts of the field? Aren’t they supposed to “work and keep” this garden by protecting it from harmful enemies like this?

We trust God’s wisdom in revealing precisely what he reveals and withholding precisely what he withholds. There’s so much we don’t know about the “how” and the “why” of Genesis 3. But there’s absolutely zero ambiguity about the “what.” The seed of doubt that the serpent plants in Eve’s mind blooms into a blasphemous weed that chokes out the bliss of human experience. In short, Adam and Eve sinned.

Sin. That’s one of those words that different people use in wildly different ways. When Person A talks about “sin,” they’re talking about a bug in the system, a snag in the fabric, something regrettable and unavoidable in an otherwise worthy whole. When Person B talks about sin, they’re talking about a terminal diagnosis, a bone-deep rebellion, a carried-on constitution that forever pits humanity against themselves and their Creator. Sin isn’t merely a defect that makes us imperfect; it’s a rebellion that dooms us—that breaks the fabric of who we are.

When the serpent urges Eve (and Adam) to sin, he’s not merely urging them to break their divinely mandated diet. He’s urging them to turn on their Lord, to try to take authority into their own hands and be gods. He’s urging them to upend God’s design for creation. Instead of having dominion over the animals, instead of working and keep the garden, Adam and Eve buy into the lie that they know better than God and that God doesn’t have their best interests at heart. This is cosmic rebellion.

Curses for Rebels

Once we understand what sin really is, the way God responds begins to make a bit more sense. He curses all the guilty parties. Let’s look at what he says, first to the serpent:

The Lord God said to the serpent,
“Because you have done this,
cursed are you above all livestock
and above all beasts of the field;
on your belly you shall go,
and dust you shall eat
all the days of your life.
I will put enmity between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and her offspring;
he shall bruise your head,
and you shall bruise his heel.”

(Genesis 3:14–15)

That last verse reverberates throughout the entire Bible. Basically, it says, “One day your head’s gonna get crushed by a son of Eve.” But for now, let’s move on to God’s curses to Adam and Eve:

To the woman he said,
“I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing;
in pain you shall bring forth children.
Your desire shall be contrary to your husband,
but he shall rule over you.”

And to Adam he said,
“Because you have listened to the voice of your wife
and have eaten of the tree
of which I commanded you,
‘You shall not eat of it,’
cursed is the ground because of you;
in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life;
thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you;
and you shall eat the plants of the field.
By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread,
till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken;
for you are dust,
and to dust you shall return.”

(Genesis 3:16–19)

The Crime, the Verdict, and the Sentencing

There’s a lot we could say here, but for now let’s observe three things: first the crime, then verdict, and then the sentencing. The crime is disobeying God’s Word (Genesis 3:17).

The verdict, of course, is guilty.

But what about the sentencing? Hopefully you noticed that God’s curses aren’t random or haphazard. God’s initial blessings now have an element of curse attached to them. Called to be fruitful and multiply, the woman is now sentenced to have her pain multiplied alongside her fruitfulness (3:16). Called to subdue the earth, the man is now sentenced to subdue an earth that fights back with thorns and thistles (3:18).

Is that it? No. Moses keeps going, and ends Genesis 3 with key information. The Lord’s sentencing concludes, “Therefore the Lord God sent him out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man, and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life” (3:23–24).

Once blessed, now banished. That’s the conflict at the center of this book—and it will take the rest of the Bible to fully and finally resolve it. We once dwelled in God’s presence naked and without shame. (Notice that in Genesis 3:21, God covers their shame with clothing. He didn’t have to do that. What mercy. He blesses the blasphemers.) We were safe at home with the Creator of the universe, so long as we continued to trust him and listen to his word.

And then our rebellion wrecked the world. It ruined our relationship with the Lord. It cut us off and he drove us out—rightly so! More than that, he placed a sword-wielding sentinel to guard the entrance to his presence. We cannot get back through our own efforts, and if we try—we’ll die. The wages of sin has always been death.

We were made to live alongside our Creator, to hear his footsteps as he walked beside us in the cool of the day, recognize his voice as he spoke to us. But Adam and Eve’s rebellion has changed everything. Their sin paved the way for our own. No matter how big or small they feel, our sins are the same crime as Adam and Eve’s in the garden. They are rebellion.

As a result, whatever sinlessness Adam and Eve enjoyed has never been ours. They once lived at home with God. Not us. We were born “alienated” from God (Colossians 1:21).

In other words, since Genesis 3, we’re all nomads—uprooted, trying to recapture the sense of home, seeking the fellowship and belonging we lost. Everything has changed.

Questions for Reflection

1. How do you see your sin in light of God’s holiness?
2. At what points of your life have you felt most separated from God? How was close fellowship with him restored?

Excerpted from Nomad: A Short Story of Our Long Journey Home © 2025 by Alex Duke. Used with permission of New Growth Press. May not be reproduced without prior written permission.

Recently, however, we were determined to be there. And it was a blessing—but I found myself not able to listen to some of the lesson (and my wife, Shale, wasn’t really able to listen at all) because of the kids. Now, kids are kids. They were restless. When we weren’t having to quiet them down, Shale was having to take our youngest to the bathroom, or something else.

When that happens, what’s the point of even showing up? What purpose is there in going to church when you aren’t able to listen to the sermon or lesson? Why even bother?

• Your Presence Is a Blessing | There have been moments when I am sitting in the pew before service begins and notice a family whom I haven’t seen in a while walking through the doors. Their mere presence is a blessing to see, because it shows they prioritize coming to church. The same applies to you. Simply showing up to church or a mid-week Bible study is going to bless others in attendance. They will be encouraged by seeing you show up even amid busyness, exhaustion, and frustration.
• Focus on Fellowship | Even if you can’t focus on the sermon because of factors like caring for your kids, you can focus on fellowship before and after. Our children are generally good during Bible study, but every now and then they hinder us from truly getting much from the lesson. Therefore, we make the effort to stay for a little bit after the service to mingle with others (even if it means a later bedtime for everyone involved). We’re not perfect at this, but there’s deep value in simply talking with other Christians after service. Catch up with the person you haven’t spoken with in a while. Check in on the person you’re discipling. Invite someone over for dinner. Share your heart with someone.
• Set an Example | If you have kids, they will notice what takes priority in your family’s life. Though you can’t get through the sermon or Bible study without taking care of them, they will see the example you’re setting and follow it in the future. It’s the little things here and there that children will notice and that will make an impact later in their lives.
• Obey the Lord | Perhaps this is an obvious one, but it bears mentioning. We should still go to church even if we can’t listen to the sermon, because we must obey the Lord. It can be discouraging to attend service and not be able to listen because of various factors, certainly including your kids. This might cause you to feel like just not going. I’ve been there. But we can’t allow that feeling to become the norm; we can’t let that take hold in our hearts. Even if it’s hard, we must still go.
• Bits and Pieces Matter | As distracted as we can be at times during a service, there will always be moments—even small ones—where we hear the preaching of God’s Word or perhaps are blessed by a particular song lyric during worship. God can take the tiniest information and use it to sanctify you. Don’t lose heart.
• Encourage Your Pastor(s) | Your pastors will appreciate you showing up. They will be encouraged by your faithfulness to attend service even when you are too distracted with caring for your kids to listen. You’re there, and that means the world to your pastor. We need to remember ways to intentionally encourage our pastors—the ones keeping watch over our souls (Heb. 13:17)—and this is one of them.

If it seems like a waste of time to venture out to church when you are certain that distractions will hinder you from listening, don’t let that stop you. Satan wants nothing more than for you not to attend service. We have to make the point to go to church even when it’s hard, even if it feels like we’re getting nothing out of it. God is working amidst that.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/Ou9ytBCJIjs

*This article was featured in the issue 44 of Midwestern Magazine.

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By: Jared C. Wilson

It’s my great privilege to serve as the General Editor of For The Church, which is the result of years of praying, planning, and faithful contributions from some great writers. The opportunity to serve the Church through the gospel-centered resources you find at ftc.co was a huge part of the draw for me to relocate to Kansas City and join the team at Midwestern Seminary. Our hope has always been that what we provide through the site will benefit the institution, sure, but more than that, we honestly and humbly hope to simply nourish those who visit these pages—whether as part of their regular web surfing or through individual clicks on articles that intrigue them via social media—with the incomparable encouragement of the finished work of Christ.

At the FTC site, one can find fresh content daily from some very talented writers from all over the world, all aimed at helping pastors and lay leaders press the gospel into every corner of the room, so to speak. While we hope to explore how the good news of Jesus applies to all of life—because it does!—we are more primarily aiming at ministry leaders and influencers, whether you’re a senior pastor or a youth pastor, a Sunday School teacher or a stay-at-home mom. For The Church is for you.

There are lots of Christian websites out there vying for your valuable attention, including a growing number of gospel-centered resource sites (thank God!). You will notice that there is a lot about our site that is similar to others you already enjoy, and we look forward to joining them in your daily work of edification online. But we hope you will also notice a few things that make For The Church unique. We have put a lot of thought into how we might complement what is already valuable in the evangelical blogosphere. And while the following four aims are not exclusive to our site, we nevertheless make these commitments to you. Please know that, for us, being for the Church means being:

For the Truth

We affirm the sufficiency and the authority of the Bible. We certainly do affirm the oft-repeated dictum that “all truth is God’s truth,” but we more strongly affirm Paul’s word that “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Tim. 3:16-17). Since you cannot improve upon “complete,” we will stick with the only truth that is power to change and sustain hearts in Christ Jesus—the inerrant, infallible Word of God.

In these days of increasingly murky cultural waters, we know there can be a greater temptation for the Church to argue on the world’s terms, to debate according to the logic of the spirit of the age, and to fall into so-called culture wars and the like. We believe the gospel has implications and applications for every calling and vocation, so of course Christ the King is King over things like politics and culture. But when For The Church speaks into those arenas, it will do so with the unchanging Scriptures. By holding firmly to the biblical truth, we maintain the great strength and advantage of clarity in dark days.

And ultimately, to be for the truth is to be for the glory of Christ, who is the Truth.

For the Sheep

You may notice that we spend quite a bit of time on the devotional side of things. This is an intentional effort on our part to speak as much to the hearts of our readers as to their minds and hands. We are making a significant commitment to exulting in the grace of God in our daily offerings. We believe that by focusing on devotional pieces, we can daily nourish our readers with the truths of God’s Word and help them exult in Christ. But we also want to feature practical articles as well. Even these, however, will not be purely “how to” exercises, but “why to” pieces—meaning, we will do our best to root our exhortations and instructions in the finished work of Christ and the good news of His perfect obedience imputed to us by faith. For this reason, we work to be practical, not pragmatic. To be practical is to help you flesh the faith out. To be pragmatic is to make the faith formulaic. We do not believe the latter serves Christ’s sheep well. We want them to be well-fed with the grace of God.

For the Shepherds

We make no apology about emphasizing resources aimed at those in ministry or aspiring to ministry. You will see that most of the posts appearing here are written with pastors, pastors-in-training, and mature lay leaders in mind. We do this because we believe that whatever a church’s leaders are, the church becomes. So we will help shape churches by shaping their leaders. To be for shepherds is to be for the sheep, actually. And by speaking to pastoral hearts with the gospel and strengthening their minds and hands with helpful content aimed at fulfilling their calling to equip the saints for ministry, we will honor the Good Shepherd by honoring His undershepherds.

For the Gospel

In all that we do, we seek the magnification of Christ in the Church and in the world through the Church. This means we must lash ourselves to the mast of the ship of the gospel. Where it goes, we will go. We will not depart from Christ’s good news, because the Spirit working in and through the gospel is what has made the Church in the first place. To be for the Church means being intently, persistently, stubbornly, and eternally for the gospel, because the Spirit working in and through the gospel is what sustains and sanctifies the Church.

The gospel is the only power stewarded to the Church and it is the only hope for a lost and dying world. So that’s For The Church. We’re unapologetically for the gospel, because we will be celebrating the gospel well into eternity’s endless days, for the expansion of the glory of the Lamb who was slain.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/44a16npvEEI

The following article was originally published at ftc.co on August 23, 2021.

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And Jesus said to them, “The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection.” —Luke 20:34-36

Jesus knows that the Sadducees he’s speaking to do not believe in a resurrection, and in a way, their very misunderstanding of what Jesus believes about marriage betrays their disbelief. The Sadducees, like so many others then and today who don’t believe in Jesus, think this is all there is. Nothing comes after death. You die and that’s it. They do not think on the scale of eternity, that God is endless and therefore life is endless. That when God created the world, not even the fall of mankind, and the sin unleashed into the world through it, and the brokenness of the earth contracted by it, can thwart God’s purposes. Sin will not have the last word when it comes even to creation. What God made good and man trashed, God is going to remake.

This means that everything created good is only a pale glimmer of what it will be in the time when heaven crashes into earth fully and God restores it all.

So Jesus sets up the contrast between the here and now with the sweet bye and bye.

Now, when he says resurrected believers are “equal to angels” he doesn’t mean that when good people die they become angels. That’s been a very popular misunderstanding throughout the church age. I mean, I don’t know if you get your theology of the afterlife from Tom and Jerry cartoons, but when we die we don’t spend the rest of eternity up in the clouds playing harps and wearing diapers.

Jesus simply means that we will be glorified in such a way that we will be along the order of angels—enjoying the paradise of God under a new order.

The thrust of this is in the contrast. Notice the difference he presents between “this age” (v. 34) and “that age” (v. 35).

What Jesus is telling them—and us—is that the gifts we enjoy in this age are meant to be signposts to the Giver himself and the everlasting enjoyment in the age to come. He uses the example they’ve brought him: They’ve brought up the topic of marriage, so that’s how he answers them. In this age, men and women are gifted the covenant of marriage. But in that age, like the angels, we won’t need the covenant of marriage.

What Jesus is saying is that marriage is meant for this age to point us to the reality of that age. How does it do that? There are so many broken marriages and always have been since the fall, but it wasn’t originally like that. And even the best marriages, even the ones that last “until death do them part,” are often fraught with conflict or hurts or just disappointments. But that wasn’t the original design. The original design—that man would leave his parents and cleave to his wife and become “one flesh” with her—was meant to be a reflection of God’s loving commitment to mankind.

Even after sin entered the world through the acts of that first married couple, marriage points to the gospel, because a husband and wife are meant to live in a gracious covenant with each other—forgiving each other, nurturing each other, caring for each other—as a picture of what Christ has done out of sheer grace to show his love for his Church. In Ephesians 5, Paul calls marriage “a profound mystery,” and he says it refers to Christ and his Church.

This is why marriage is both beautiful and temporary. It’s beautiful because it is a signpost pointing to Christ and his Bride, the Church. And it’s temporary, because when Christ returns to consummate his Kingdom, the thing to which the sign points will finally have arrived. We won’t need the signs any more—because we will have the reality forever.

Sons of the resurrection we will be. And so Jesus is showing how the reality of the resurrection to come provides a new perspective on how we think about things like marriage today. Looking to the day of the new heavens and new earth gives clarity to our vision for the things around us.

What would it look like to treat each other, married or not, not as objects for our own use and pleasure today, but as opportunities to affirm the image of God and show that we believe there is a new day coming?

*This article was featured in the issue 44 of Midwestern Magazine.

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By Jason K. Allen

We believe that Midwestern Seminary’s right to exist is directly tethered to our faithfulness to the local church. I believe that any parachurch organization or ministry should be evaluated primarily based upon its faithfulness to serve, support, and strengthen the local church. Christ has promised to build His church, not His seminary. But as we are faithful to His Church, doubtlessly He will build this seminary.

Over the past decade, we’ve trumpeted our for the Church mission as loudly as we can. It’s been implemented across every square inch of the campus, embedded into every aspect of our institutional programming and curriculum, and embraced by every member of the team.

Moreover, for the church has given us institutional momentum.

It’s been an igniter, a propellant moving us forward, and it’s galvanized our constituency to support us. It’s been a cohesive, binding us together. We are for the church.

Articulating the Mission

Ordinarily a mission statement should not change with a new leader. Perhaps it’s tweaked or reapplied, but it ought not be reinvented with each leadership change. In a sense, I was blessed because Midwestern Seminary had already been serving the church, but it had not expressed that mission in a clear, cogent way. I had the opportunity to clarify, to convey, and every day since, to champion that mission.
When Winston Churchill was heralded as the lionhearted leader of wartime Great Britain, he famously said, “It was a nation and a race dwelling all around the globe that had the lion heart. I had the luck to be called upon to give the roar.” [1]

I feel the same way toward Midwestern Seminary’s for the Church mission. Before me were faithful men and women already serving for the church. Yet, like Churchill, I’ve had the pleasure of articulating that mission and leveraging all the seminary’s resources for the church in a way that hadn’t been done before.

At the personal level, for the Church had been building in my life for years. I had twin loves, the local church and theological education. In fact, that’s why I’d been dually engaged in institutional and local-church ministry settings for almost my entire adult life.

But the for the church mission is so much bigger and better than I am. It’s not just autobiographical; it’s biblical.

The Unchanging Mission

Over the past ten years, I’ve watched with pleasure as for the church has gone from being my mission statement for Midwestern Seminary, to our mission statement for Midwestern Seminary, to the mission statement of Midwestern Seminary.

There is a symbiotic relationship between the church and the seminary; they are to serve, strengthen, and support one another. With the previous generation of pastors retiring, churches are asking, “From whence will a new generation come?” Midwestern Seminary must be ready to respond to that question every year going forward by supplying a new generation of pastors, missionaries, and ministers to serve our churches.

This is precisely why for the Church still matters. Our mission has not changed. Our constituency has not changed. Our directive from the Lord has not changed. Therefore, we will continue to be for the church because our calling is clear, and the need is great.

For the Church animates our team, represents our institution, and inspires our constituency. Together, we are for the church, and we always will be.

*This article is an excerpt from Turnaround: The Remarkable Story of an Institutional Transformation and the 10 Essential Principles and Practices that Made It Happen. To purchase the book, please visit: jasonkallen.com.

[1] This line was said in a speech of thanks given at the House of Commons on Churchill’s eightieth birthday on November 30, 1954. See Geoffrey Best, Churchill: A Study in Greatness (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 183.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/GDUot1uGWIE

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/vMC91enjSc4

The following article was originally published at ftc.co on March 20, 2023.

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“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself . . . strengthen [you].” —1 Peter 5:10

To suffer with Christ is vastly superior to a life of comfort without him.

And if he has saved you through his death, manifesting all his divine power in his own human weakness unto death, do you not think he can be your power in your suffering?

He will be your strength in the eternal life he gives you. Eternal life means just that—“eternal.” This means however much you suffer, even if it be all of your life, and even if your life is long, it will still be nothing but a blip on the radar of eternity. “After you have suffered a little while,” says Peter. It is the context of eternity, which is the length of our union with Christ and therefore the un-expiring duration of our security, which colors our suffering. Paul could refer to his missional life of suffering as “a light momentary affliction” (2 Cor. 4:17). It’s not even worth comparing to the eternal weight of glory.

It is the sustaining vision of eternal life in Christ that fixes even a lifetime of suffering to a fine point—a fine point that in the last day will be eclipsed by the glory of the radiant Christ, perhaps even distilled down to a jewel placed amidst your treasures, or placed in the crown of Christ himself as we offer our suffering up to him, finally in our fully sanctified state, truly not loving our own lives even unto death.

But the apostle here is not simply promising the escape of suffering—he is promising the sustenance through it.

Christ will be your strength in the midst of your suffering, with sustaining grace to persevere. He is there, with you and around you and beneath you and over you and in you and beside you, and you are in him, and there is no furnace so hot that Christ will not walk into it with you.

I’m reminded of the passage in The Hiding Place, as Corrie ten Boom, with her father, contemplates the prospect of torture and death ahead of her:

I burst into tears, “I need you!” I sobbed. “You can’t die! You can’t!”
“Corrie,” he began gently. “When you and I go to Amsterdam, when do I give you your ticket?”
“Why, just before we get on the train.”
“Exactly. And our wise Father in heaven knows when we’re going to need things, too. Don’t run out ahead of him, Corrie. When the time comes that some of us will have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need—just in time.”

When you must go through the furnace, you will not be alone.

In the weakness of suffering, Christ will be your strength.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/CNPKyNUh0Ok

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/bbnRq9746-s

The following article was originally published at FTC.co on June 21, 2017.

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Reflections on 10 Years of Church Planting

“I’m just not very good at this whole ‘vision’ thing,” a discouraged pastor shared with me over lunch at Chick-fil-A. He asked, “How do I even cast vision?”

As a church planter getting ready to celebrate my church’s 10-year anniversary, I must have been associated with “vision casting” in this pastor’s mind. But, as I took a breath and prepared to impart all of my apparent wisdom, I froze. What is our vision? I thought immediately. Do we even have one?

I fumbled over my words as my mind went back to a weekend “boot camp” for aspiring church planters. Those of us in attendance spent the majority of our time there talking about vision. We had to craft a vision for our future churches that would correspond with our “mission statement,” by writing clever and catchy sentiments with purple markers on the large tear-off sheets hanging on the wall. I’d had a hard time coming up with something then, and here now at Chick-fil-A, sitting across from a pastor who sought me out to discuss this very topic, I had nothing.

People in our city speak of the “vision” of our church often, and I claim to be the unofficial guardian of that vision as the lead pastor. Yet there I was, unable to cast vision about casting vision. I couldn’t even articulate the vision of our church when asked directly.

So I circled back to the reason I knew I wanted to start a church in the first place.

When I was a twenty-something trying to become an actual church planter, all I knew was that I had a passion for a place and for people. I wasn’t sure how one went about starting a church, but I knew my hometown of Tallahassee needed more gospel-preaching churches, and I wanted to reach my friends for Christ. I wasn’t sure if that counted as a vision, and I had no idea how to make that into a catchy statement. But I had a mission; I knew that for sure.

I remember holding that purple marker in my hand with the “Church Planting Catalyst” looking over my shoulder as he asked, “So, what’s your vision?” and “Do you have a mission statement?” I glanced at the words being written by the guys on my right and left and started to wonder if I was cut out for this. These guys had each written statements that I would need a hired creative wordsmith to craft. I was just standing there with a purple marker, trying to come up with something that would sound okay and not be lame.

. . .

Coming back to the table at Chick-fil-A, I finally formed my thoughts and knew how to encourage this pastor. “What is the Bible’s job description for us as the Church?” I asked. He immediately answered as I’d hoped, and pointed to the Great Commission. In that moment, I began to realize that I actually was cut out to coach someone on vision, and that every Christian is equally qualified to do the same thing. We remind and point people back to the vision Jesus gave His Church. “Don’t worry about vision,” I said. “Your church doesn’t need to be preoccupied with vision; it needs to be serious about the Bible.”

Years ago, with that purple marker in my hand, I wound up with the least cool statement on the big white sheet of paper: “I want to reach Tallahassee and all my friends for Jesus through the local church, and I hope anyone who will ever call our church their home will want to do the same.” The instructor thought I was being sarcastic with such a non-vision-statement-esque vision statement, but I looked at him and simply said, “This is what I’m trying to do, man.” Since then, we’ve summarized this mission as being “for the gospel, for the city.” But the goal hasn’t changed.

The visions of all local churches should sound pretty similar if we are going to be faithful to the mission mandate given to us by our Lord. I am all for creative expressions, ideas, approaches, and manifestations of the mission, but that should spring from a gospel-centrality in our congregations (led by the pastor) more than a super hip marketing campaign (led by a creative team). Branding is great, but the vision should be simple. And the vision-caster is Jesus Himself speaking to us through Scripture.

In my opinion, the aspects of application to get hung up on are ones of strategy, not vision. The vision is laid out already, but how you’re going to carry it out is the conversation you should be having. Every biblical local church has the same message, but working out the calling to make disciples in your specific environment might include:

• Regular reminders of who you are as a church and also who you are not.
• Saying no to certain things so the church can be available to live out the Great Commission in your community and beyond.
• Identifying how you can utilize your assets, human resources, exposure, platforms, etc. to reach your given audience, city, and congregation.
• Equipping your church members to carry out the Great Commission in their personal lives, not only relying on the church as an entity to reach the city.

Pastor, you can rest knowing that the creative vision for your church is laid out. Our job is to lead churches, by the Lord’s help, who are faithful to what Jesus has called us to do for His glory, Kingdom, and Church.

“So, I can be a vision guy simply by keeping the church focused on the Great Commission,” the pastor said back to me at Chick-fil-A. The light bulb went off for my pastor friend. He already had all he needed for vision since Jesus provided it in Scripture. My friend merely needed the courage and resolve to keep his church focused on reaching people and making disciples.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/QHZBceudCcA

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The following article was originally published at JasonKAllen.com and was republished at FTC.co on April 28, 2022.

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Known as the silent killer, each year colon cancer claims close to 50,000 American lives.[1] Though treatable if detected early, colon cancer is known as the silent killer because, if not screened for, it will grow unnoticed, undetected. By the time it is discovered symptomatically, it is often too late to be cured.

Like colon cancer, I’m convinced there is another slow, silent, growing malignancy within the church. The malignancy is particularly catastrophic, bringing with it ruinous consequences.

It hollows out the gospel message, undercuts the Great Commission, and undermines the entire logic of collaborative missions and ministry. The malignancy to which I am referring is the slow, subtle rejection of the exclusivity of the gospel.

By the Numbers

Recent research conducted jointly by Ligonier Ministries and Lifeway Research makes clear this challenge. For example, 45% of Americans think that “there are many ways to get to heaven” and 71% agree that “an individual must contribute his/her own effort for personal salvation.”[2]

Defining Exclusivity

Historic Christianity, throughout its creedal formulations, has affirmed the exclusivity of the gospel. In fact, this was Jesus’s self-assessment when he unequivocally asserted, “’I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man comes to the father but through me.’”[3]

By exclusivity of the gospel, we mean that only those who personally, consciously, explicitly, and singularly confess Jesus Christ as Lord can possess eternal life. Let’s consider these qualifiers more closely.

Personally: Salvation comes to us individually, when one follows Christ. No one gains eternal life because of someone else’s faith, or by his or her affiliation with a family, church, or ethnic or national group. Each sinner must come to repent of his or her sins and believe the gospel personally.

Consciously: To inherit the Kingdom one must do more than reflect the ethic of Christ; one must consciously embrace him, knowingly and intentionally following Jesus. There are no anonymous Christians, regardless of Karl Rahner’s assertion otherwise. Authentic believers know whom they are following.

Explicitly: One’s faith must be placed in God’s Son, Jesus Christ, not just generically in God. As Peter declared in Acts 4:12, “’There is salvation in no one else; for there is no other name under heaven that has been given among men by which we must be saved.’”

Singularly: Faith in Jesus alone saves, and saving faith must be placed in him alone. The singularity of Christ as one’s faith object is especially important on the mission field, where missionaries encounter religions, such as Hinduism, where they are happy to add Jesus to their pantheon of gods. We do not add Jesus to our portfolio of faith objects. Christianity is not a both-and proposition; it is either-or.

Of course, when converted, one is not necessarily thinking through these categories, like boxes to check. Rather, the point is that one cannot reject or negate these gospel distinctives.

Challenges to Exclusivity

Why is the exclusivity of the gospel losing popularity? There seems to be a number of reasons. First, globalization has brought the nations near to us. This nearness should have increased our burden for the lost, but it seems to have done the opposite.

Second, the forward march of postmodernity continues to undermine absolute truth claims, especially one so audacious as the exclusivity of the gospel—that of the 7,000,000,000 inhabitants of Earth, only those that hear and believe the message of Christ can be saved.

Third, political correctness limits our willingness to offend, and asserting the full gospel message is the most offensive of truth claims. Political correctness finds the notion of a literal hell as insufferably backwards, and has re-envisioned it as a mythological—or nearly unoccupied—place.

Alternatives to Exclusivity

While universalism is often contrasted with exclusivity, it is actually not commonly accepted. There is just something disconcerting, even to thoroughgoing secularists, about the possibility of Adolf Hitler and Osama bin Laden spending eternity with Billy Graham. Even our most naturalistic instincts desire some sort of eternal reckoning.

More common alternatives are pluralism and inclusivism. Pluralism argues there are many ways to God, and one should earnestly follow the religious path revealed to you. Inclusivism maintains that Christ is the only Savior, but his provision can be accessed through other religions.

Ron Nash, in his Is Jesus the Only Savior?, helpfully summarizes pluralism, inclusivism, and exclusivity in two questions: Is Jesus the only savior? Must people believe in Jesus Christ to saved? Pluralism answers both questions “no”; inclusivism answers the first “yes” and the second “no.” Historic Christianity answers both “yes.”[4]

For the many who attend evangelical churches yet deny the exclusivity of the gospel, pluralism or inclusivism—though they may not know these terms—is probably their ideological home. While they may not intend to reject historic Christianity, operationally, many of our church members—and our churches—are there.

Conclusion

To be a preacher is to be a decision maker. Each week preachers determine what to include in a sermon and what to leave out. Time simply does not allow one to say everything that could be said about every passage. Preachers intuitively triage their text, their sermon, and their congregation, asking themselves, “What can I assume they know and affirm, and what must I assert and advocate?”

Perhaps this triage has led too many pastors to assume their church members understand and embrace the exclusivity of the gospel. We can no longer assume this. We must assert and advocate the exclusivity of the gospel.

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[1] https://www.cancer.org/cancer/colonandrectumcancer/detailedguide/colorectal-cancer-key-statistics.

[2] Ligonier Ministries, in partnership with LifeWay Research, “The State of Theology: Theological Awareness Benchmark Study,” 4. Available online at https://gpts.edu/resources/documents/TheStateOfTheology-Whitepaper.pdf.

[3] John 14:6.

[4] See Ron Nash, Is Jesus the Only Savior? (Zondervan, 1994).

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/654Od0YLJio

I know God doesn’t make mistakes, but I sometimes wonder if I was supposed to live in the first century, because I love everything about the early church. Apart from the lack of air conditioning, indoor plumbing, and antibiotics, living in those times would have been amazing. Jesus had just spent forty days with the disciples after his resurrection. He went up, and the Spirit came down. Thousands were added to the disciples’ number. They worshiped daily, prayed continually, and shared meals together. They cared for widows and orphans, cast out demons, and healed the sick. Even when they were persecuted, they spread out among the nations and planted churches like it was nothing.

But what was it really like? Was it all that great, or were there significant hardships? What was a typical church gathering like? How did they do church in these wild early years?

In the first thirty years after Jesus’s ascension—the period of the book of Acts—the early church was everything. It was great, and it was awful; it was evangelistic, and it was legalistic; it was hungry, and it was lukewarm. The only thing it wasn’t is nothing. Its influence swept the globe in a way no social or religious movement ever has or ever again will.

Early Christianity scholar Michael Green wrote a book with the perfect title, Thirty Years that Changed the World. Green puts this season in history like this:

Three crucial decades in world history. That is all it took. In the years between AD 33 and 64, a new movement was born. In those thirty years it got sufficient growth and credibility to become the largest religion the world has ever seen and to change the lives of hundreds of millions of people. It has spread into every corner of the globe and has more than two billion adherents. It has had an indelible impact on civilization, on culture, on education, on medicine, on freedom and of course on the lives of countless people worldwide. And the seedbed for all this, the time when it took decisive root, was in these three decades. It all began with a dozen men and a handful of women: and then the Spirit came. (7–8)

Incredible, right? Green goes on to say, “We can and should ask ourselves, ‘If those people then acted in the way they did, what are the implications for disciples today, given all the differences brought about by culture, space and time?’” (8)

Among all the unique features of life in the early church, one thing stands out—prayer. If we compare the lifestyle and activities of the early church to our contemporary churches, the single most stark difference will be in our prayer lives. Green writes, “Prayer, not activism, is what they relied on” (268).

Learning Prayer from the Early Church

In Acts, prayer is the central power and activity of the church. In chapter 1, we see the believers praying before the coming of the Spirit. In chapter two, they’re gathered together again, almost certainly in prayer, when the Spirit falls. At the end of that wild, historic day, the thousands of new converts are joined to the apostles and early believers together in prayer (2:42). As chapter three opens, we find the believers going up to the temple to pray. This pattern goes on throughout the book. As Green summarizes, the early church had “life-changing power. And it only happened because these men and women put prayer at the top of their priorities” (271).

If prayer was a defining mark of the early church—with beautiful and world-changing results—why has it fallen so down the priority list for the church of contemporary America?

I believe the answer lies in our general fear that prayer doesn’t do much at all. We subconsciously believe we can do more by our intellect, strategies, and efforts than God can do in response to our prayers. How did we get here? There are multiple answers, but I believe one key reason is our diminished emphasis and dependence on the Holy Spirit.

In Pour Out Your Heart, I suggest that prayer helps us hold together two beautiful things in tension—gospel and presence. Embracing the gospel without living for the presence of God can lead us into mere head knowledge and sacrificial living. We can believe in the message of the gospel and have impeccable theology and yet barely experience the beauty of Christ. Yet, in the same way, living for the presence of God without remaining centered on the gospel can lead us into error as well. We might become focused on spiritual experience, not on knowing God in Christ. Without a heart full of the gospel, our spiritual life can become focused on personal discipline, moral improvement, and self-fulfillment.

As one of my friends put it: If you have only the gospel, you have the key to the whole house, but you might never go inside. If you have only the presence, you might have the whole house, but no key to get in.

Reading Acts and the New Testament letters, it seems the early church didn’t have this problem. As Paul wrote to the Thessalonians: “For we know, brothers and sisters loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not simply with words but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction” (1 Thess. 1:4–5). Word and power. Truth and Spirit. Gospel and presence.

What, then, would it mean for us to be more mindful of God’s presence in our prayer lives? What would a more Spirit-filled prayer life look like?

Prayer and the Spirit of God

A life of walking by the Spirit is a life of prayer, and a life of prayer is a life of walking by the Spirit. Prayer is a refusal to do life in our own strength and ingenuity. It’s a plea for help from above (and within). Prayer demonstrates a heart that is hungry for God’s presence and intervention in our world. In the same way, walking by the Spirit is a lifestyle of depending on God, not self, for life and breath. The two things are nearly synonymous.

To the Galatians, Paul wrote:

Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh… If you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law… But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit (Gal. 5:16, 18, 22–23).

Paul compels us to become like Christ, developing the same character of Jesus and demonstrating his characteristics. The way we become like Christ is by walking in the Spirit, living by the Spirit, and keeping in step with the Spirit. These three phrases suggest a practical, ongoing, moment-by-moment relationship with the Holy Spirit. It is only through this perpetual dependence on the Spirit that we can uproot the power of sin in our lives and demonstrate Christlikeness.

Dependence is a key word there. As we’ve seen, our human tendency is to rely on ourselves, defend ourselves, and promote ourselves. The Christian philosopher Francis Schaeffer famously wrote:

The central problem of our age is not liberalism or modernism, nor Roman Catholicism, nor the threat of communism, nor even the threat of rationalism, nor, I would add, postmodernism, consumerism, and other more contemporary isms. The real problem is this: the church of the Lord Jesus Christ, individually or corporately, tending to do the Lord’s work in the power of the flesh rather than of the Spirit. The central problem is always in the midst of the people of God, not in the circumstances surrounding them.[1]

This happens both individually and together in the church. Our lives, apart from walking by the Spirit, become an anxious experiment in self-reliance. We become devoted to building and protecting our own little kingdoms. We don’t intend this, but when our old self (what Paul calls the flesh) is more active than our new self (who we are in Christ), we live no different from our non-Christian neighbors.

Our churches and ministries can operate the same way. We drift back into our old self-reliant selves collectively, and we end up busy, distracted, and focused on building a spiritual empire (however big or small) that is not the kingdom of Christ. We ought to honestly ask: If the Holy Spirit suddenly left our ministries, how long would it take us to notice? If our prayers suddenly were ineffective, would our ministries come to a grinding halt? Or would they continue undiminished—because it wasn’t dependent on the Spirit and prayer to begin with?

In Galatians, the old apostle knows this self-assured, fleshy habit within us and wants to sever it. He wants us to replace it with Spirit dependence.

What would such a walking by the Spirit look like? The most practical, moment-by-moment way to keep in step with the Spirit is through an ongoing conversation with the Father.

Through God’s Son, by the power of God’s Spirit who indwells us, we can continually praise our Father God, humble ourselves before him, seek to do his will, and ask for all that we need and want. Prayer is the heart of walking by the Spirit.

Let us follow the pattern of the early church and surrender ourselves daily, in prayer and obedience. Through the power of the Spirit, let’s enjoy the life of prayer and intimacy with God that Jesus died to welcome us into!

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[1] Francis Schaeffer, The Lord’s Work in the Lord’s Way (Crossway, 2022), 36.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/w_UWRAb3nWU

Many pious descriptions of Heaven are simply unappealing—sitting on clouds, strumming harps, endless Sunday school lessons. In contrast, the Bible’s many descriptions of Heaven are exhilarating! The physical nature of Jesus’ Resurrection means believers will enjoy immortality in an embodied existence in a real place, not a ghostly existence in an ephemeral nether sphere. The Bible describes the coming Kingdom of Heaven in concrete terms—but of course, the concrete in Heaven is gold!

Once, when my son was little, he made an inference in line with biblical teaching. He said, “In Heaven, sharks don’t bite; they lick.” His comment is consistent with Isaiah’s prophecy, “The wolf and the lamb will graze together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox” (Isaiah 65:25; NASB). While scholars debate whether or not this prophecy refers to the Millennial Kingdom, we can be confident that such descriptions find perfect consummation in the eternal New Heavens and New Earth.

Let’s encourage our children to look forward to the imminent return of the King of Heaven and to pray, “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).

Editor’s note: The above article is an excerpted from “A Word to Parents and Teachers” in Big Thoughts for Little Thinkers: Heaven, by Joey Allen (published 2025 by New Leaf Press). Big Thoughts for Little Thinkers: Heaven, Jesus, and The Church are now available for purchase.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/6a-DFOo-bS8

The following article was originally published at ftc.co on March 7, 2022.

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Because Jesus is God, we can know that he is able to save. But we are encouraged not just that Christ is able to save, but in knowing that he has actually exercised his ability to save us.

In other words, to say that God is able to save isn’t exactly the good news, because God is able to do many things that he nevertheless chooses not to do. Whenever he says “no” to one of our prayers, for instance, we should not construe him to mean that he’s saying “I can’t” (unless we’re asking him to sin or otherwise act against his nature).

I’m thinking along the lines of the old Carl Henry saying: “It’s only good news if it gets there in time.”

That Christ is able to save is no benefit to those who do not find themselves taking refuge in him!

Well, Christ is an able Savior, and because he’s always on time—indeed, he has authored time itself—he’s an unconquerable Savior.

Look, for instance, at John 17:9–19, where in his “high priestly prayer,” Jesus turns from praying for himself to praying for his friends. Christ’s interceding on the sinner’s behalf is good news, and here it rises to the surface of his prayer in wonderful relief:

“I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them. And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one. While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth.”

He has given us the only kind of life he has within himself: eternal life.

The primary facet of eternal life on display in verses 9–18 is the eternality of it, the forever protection Christians have by Christ himself. Review from the passage, for instance:

v. 10 = “all mine are yours, and yours are mine,” meaning we belong to God

v. 11 = the Father is keeping us

v. 12 = he has guarded us, and not one of us has been lost

v. 15 = “keep them from the evil one”

vv. 16–17 = “sanctify them” (or set them apart)

All of this points to the safety we have in Jesus!

Even the loss of the “son of destruction,” a reference to Judas, in verse 12 is not an indication of Christ’s conquerability, since he notes that Judas’s destruction was according to the divine plan (“that the Scripture be fulfilled”). In other words, Judas didn’t slip through the cracks. Jesus isn’t a pretty good Savior, about to finish 11 out of 12. No, he kept all that were given to him. None of them was lost. Nobody slips through the cracks. If you are saved, you are unconquerably saved.

The obvious doctrinal connections here are to eternal security and the perseverance of the saints. But there are shades here of what’s more explicit in John 17:21–22, where we get a glimpse into the doctrine of mystical union with Christ.

“…that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them…”

The gospel gem of union with Christ is perhaps the major facet of the gospel uniting the whole of the New Testament. It is implicitly proclaimed every time we see phrases like “in him” or “in Christ” or “with him”—to be found in Christ, to be raised with Christ, to move and live and have our being “in Christ,” to be crucified with Christ and seated with him in the heavenly places, to be hidden with Christ in God.

In John 15, Jesus tells his disciples that they are the branches and he is the vine, and that they must “remain in him” or “abide in him.” This is all doctrine of union talk.

And in John 17, the picture being displayed shows us that Christ doesn’t just advocate for us as a defense attorney—though he does that too—but he actually grafts us into himself. But further: by faith, the sinner saved by grace is spiritually inextricable from Jesus. His Spirit indwells us. And we are said to dwell in him.

How is this—that he would be, spiritually speaking, inside of us? And we would also be, spiritually speaking, inside of him?

Well, think of the temple in the ancient days. The holiest of holies was the place where God’s presence specially dwelled. But it would not be accurate to say God’s wholeness was solely located in that physical space. God is omnipresent. He can’t not be omnipresent. So God was outside the temple and everywhere. But also he dwelled specially in the temple. This is a corollary to the indwelling presence of Christ in believers. We are in him. But he is also specially in us.

Think of a Matryoshka doll. You know, those Russian nesting dolls, where you open it up and there’s an increasingly smaller doll inside? Well, picture just three. The middle one is us. We are inside Christ, so that when you open him up, you find us. And when you open us up, you find him again.

We belong to God. The Father is keeping us. He has guarded us, and not one of us will be lost. He is keeping us from the evil one. He has sanctified us.

Speaking of Russia: Recently, as Russian invaders entered Ukrainian soil, I saw a photo online said to be of a group of Ukrainian Christians in a circle in Kharviv Square joined in prayer. And I was struck by two things in contemplating that photo. The first thing I was struck by was the sheer vulnerability of them. For seven or eight human beings armed with nothing but winter coats are no match for small arms fire, much less heavy artillery. But the second thing I was struck by was the sheer power of them. For Christians, to be found in Christ, to be guarded and kept by him is—in all the ways that ultimately and eternally matter—to be unconquerable.

Richard Sibbes says, “The Christian is an impregnable fortress. The Christian is a man who cannot be conquered.”

Oh, we can be killed. But we cannot be conquered.

As Paul says in Colossians 3:3, “Our life is hidden with Christ in God.” If we are hidden with Christ in God, we are as secure as Christ is. Now, how secure do you think Christ is?

Jesus says, “I have guarded them”! (v. 12)

Now, of course, we need to be sober-minded. We will endure hardship in this life. In verse 15, Jesus plainly says, “I do not ask that you take them out of the world,” only that we be “kept from the evil one.”

Nobody gets out of here alive. Even the Christian must die. But dying isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you. Dying after you die is the worst thing that can happen to you. But for those who are united to Christ by faith—we have unconquerable, eternal life.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/-km_ppa5_Wo

In the Scriptures, God gives his people a surprising and uncomfortable amount of participation in his eternal purposes. He often waits to fulfill his plans until he can fulfill them through us. He waits till we pray.

God is in no discernible hurry. He instead moves in our hearts to seek him, desire his kingdom on earth, and boldly ask for his glory to cover the earth. Our prayers literally do change the world. God has ordained this unexpected and strange pathway to his glory, and indeed, he is the one who gets the glory in the end.

We know Moses as the great leader of Israel, and we know him as one of the Old Testament’s preeminent prophets too. But have we considered the remarkable prayer life of Moses?

Moses’s Bold Request(s)

God would often draw Moses to himself for days at a time, revealing himself and his will to Moses. In Exodus 32, the Israelites get tired of waiting for Moses to come down from the mountain, and they quickly spiral into corruption and make a golden calf out of their gold jewelry. Moses is distraught over their sin, and knowing God to be holy and righteous, fears that Israel might be completely wiped out. Moses goes directly to the Lord in prayer and asks that God forgive their sin (32:32). God responds that he will punish them for their sin but agrees not to totally destroy his people (32:33–35).

God tells Moses he will still give the Israelites the promised land, but he will not personally lead them anymore—the pillar of cloud, representing his presence, would not remain with them. He will instead send an angel to go before them (33:1–3). So, Moses’s first prayer has been granted, but he’s not done yet.

Moses approaches God a second time in the tent of meeting. It’s here that we learn that God would regularly speak to Moses face to face, as one talks with a friend (33:11). In this prayer conversation, Moses makes his second request, citing God’s own character and goodness first. He prays, “Remember that this nation is your people” (33:13). He’s appealing to God’s own faithfulness and steadfast love. Moses continues, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here” (33:15). He’s saying: If you don’t personally come with us, God, what is the point of any of it? It’s not enough to send an angel. We want you, God!

Now, this is a bold second request, and we might fear that God will respond with anger. We might tell Moses he should be content with his first request being answered. But one answered prayer has a way of increasing our faith and boldness. So Moses makes this second request, and it seems to delight God even more. God responds, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name” (33:17). Prayer number two is also answered.

Now, I played basketball every day through high school and college, and I can tell you this. If I made a three pointer, it made me want to shoot another three. And if I made two threes? You couldn’t stop me from taking a third. I tell my boys the same thing: If you’re hot, it’s no time for meekness; keep shooting! I think Moses is thinking essentially the same thing now. He’s two for two. In the language of NBA Jam, he’s heating up. Why not go for three?

With a preposterous boldness, Moses makes a third request, and it’s the most audacious one yet. “Now show me your glory” (33:18).

Can you believe it? Moses asks to see God in all his glory. But no one can see God and live (33:20)! Has Moses lost his mind? Or is he perhaps as close to the heart of God that he’s ever been? Is he actually asking God for the exact sort of thing that God wants to give?

Indeed, God’s response tells us everything. He will do it. He will allow his goodness to pass in front of Moses, but God will not show his face—because Moses would not survive that one (33:19–23). The following day, Moses prepares himself and returns up the mountain. It says that “the Lord came down in the cloud and stood there with him… And he passed in front of Moses,” proclaiming his name (34:5–6). All because Moses dared to ask.

Boldness, indeed. Moses has moved from intercession to petition with this third request, but he’s not shifting gears too much. He is asking God to be who he is in some particular way. Moses is bringing God’s own character and goodness before him, seeking more of his presence and power. He’s asking God to do the very thing that he wants to do. And God delights to answer each and every request.

Discovering the Power of Intercession

Intercession is the most dynamic and yet most overlooked form of prayer in today’s church. More than just “praying for others,” intercession compels God to be who he is in a particular place and time.

We know that God is faithful; in intercession, we ask him to be faithful to in a certain way to a particular person. We know that God is loving; in intercession, we ask him to reveal his love to our friend or coworker. Intercessory prayer begins with an acknowledgement of God’s greatness and compassion then calls on God to apply his character and power to someone who needs it most. In this way, we’re seeking to compel our good Father to action not by our own credibility but by his.

Here’s what that can look like.

Father, you have promised that your glory will cover the earth (Hab. 2:14); will you reveal yourself now in Columbia, Missouri? Glorify yourself in this particular time and city!

Lord Jesus, you are the friend of sinners (Matt. 11:19); my friend Eric doesn’t know you and is resistant to your good news; will you break through his stubborn heart and reveal your love to him?

Lord, you are the God of healing (Ps. 103:3); will you heal my friend Jamie of her chronic illness? Let yourself be glorified by showing that you still heal the sick and brokenhearted today!

Lord Jesus, there is much spiritual opposition against our church leaders right now, but you came to disarm all rulers and principalities of evil (Col. 2:15). Will you defend and protect us against the attacks of the enemy against us?

Father, you are just and merciful, a God who delights in justice, hates wrongdoing, and loves the stranger (Ps 86:15; Is. 61:8; Lev. 19:34); will you now defend the refugees in our city and overthrow the system of injustice that works against them?

Intercessory prayer is one of the means by which God moves history forward. In his infinite wisdom and patience, he often waits to fulfill his purposes until we pray. He could do everything without us, no doubt. But because he loves us and cherishes relationship with us, he often delays the fulfillment of his promises until we pray specifically and earnestly. He doesn’t need us, but he wants us to be involved.

Intercessory prayer becomes our joy as we experience the thrill of answered prayer. Reading the stories of Moses—not to mention the accounts of Elijah and others—it seems clear that we are not asking God for too much, but too little.

If we’re not asking for much in prayer, we don’t get much from God. Jesus said, “Ask and you shall receive.” James added, “You don’t have because you don’t ask.” Perhaps we’re afraid God won’t answer. Or perhaps we’re more afraid he will answer!

In intercessory prayer, we’re asking God to change the world. We’re asking him to make it a more just, more God-aware, more beautiful place. We’re asking him to change our friends’ hearts and lives. We’re seeking his justice to roll like a river. We’re asking him to be who he is in some particular way. And God delights in these prayers!

“Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16, CSB).

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/Vo7RPOGAV0g

The following article originally appeared in the May 2013 edition of SBC Life, and was originally published at ftc.co on November 30, 2016.

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“There are two days in my calendar: this day and that day,” quipped Martin Luther in reference to Christ’s second coming. We have come a long way since Luther’s statement, with most believers erring dramatically in one of two directions.

Second coming sensationalists are the most egregious, and widely lamented, offenders. They predict the timing of Jesus’ return; but, of course, they do so in vain. Jesus stated no man knows the day or hour of his return. The most infamous prognosticator in recent years has been Harold Camping, who on multiple occasions has predicted the specific date of Jesus’ return, thus embarrassing himself—and the name of Christ—before a watching world.

As irresponsible as Camping and his ilk are, one can argue the greater danger facing the church is not hyper-expectancy about Jesus’ return, but a slumbering church that acts as though Jesus isn’t returning at all. This seems especially to be the case in the year 2013. Twenty years ago, sermons and literature on the second coming were plentiful, but such interest seems to have gone the way of the el Camino car or the waterbed, an out of style fad from a previous generation.

This ought not be the case, for evangelicals are a second coming people. Though we hold differing positions on both the millennium and on the tribulation, we are unified on the literal and soon-coming return of Christ. For Christians, though, the most important questions to ask are not if Jesus will return—that is settled—and not when he will return, that is unknowable. The most helpful question to ask is: “So what?”

Jesus’ second coming is not an abstract doctrine with no bearing on the Christian life. Rather, the New Testament refers to Jesus’ return with applicability. The Bible is replete with references to Jesus’ second coming. These passages come not as an eschatological data dump, but as a forthcoming event that is to shape a Christian’s life. The Pauline corpus speaks with special relevance. Paul frequently references, and even elaborates on, the timing and circumstances of Christ’s return. In studying Paul’s many references to the second coming, one finds that the Apostle gives special emphasis not only to Jesus’ return, but to the church’s posture as the bride in waiting. What Jesus will do and when he will do it are not unimportant considerations, but they are not the most urgent. The most pressing consideration for believers is how we should live in light of his impending return.

An Expectant Hope

In Titus 2:13, Paul describes Jesus’ second coming as the church’s “blessed hope.” For most Christians throughout church history, expecting the second coming was more than the hope of moving from a good life to a more perfect eternal state. Rather, it was a yearning for deliverance from pestilence and war, a yearning for deliverance from death and destruction, and a yearning for deliverance from poverty and persecution, or even deliverance from martyrdom.

In the Western world, Christianity in the 21st century finds most believers enjoying life in relative comfort. Religious freedom, modern medicine, bourgeois lifestyle, and other modern-day conveniences have proven to bring not only earthly comfort but also spiritual complacency. This comfort often diminishes our yearning for Jesus’ return.

This complacency is frequently found in the local church as well. Many congregations act as though Christ’s return would interrupt their building program or contravene their long-range strategic plan. Too many young adults seem content for material pursuit, while senior adults are too busy enjoying retirement to long for Christ’s return. I sense that for many Christians today, heaven is too distant, eternity too abstract, and Jesus’ return too theoretical. In complete contrast, we need to live life on a first-century footing, yearning for something so beautiful and eternally satisfying—to see Jesus and be made like him—that it eclipses and transcends all other longings and expectations.

A Sanctified Life

In expounding upon Jesus’ return, Paul frequently references the church’s need to prepare individual’s lives to see Jesus. In fact, Paul calls the church to live as “sons of light and sons of the day, not as of the night or of darkness” (I Thessalonians 5:5), in anticipation of Jesus’ return. Truth be known, if our longing is not right, our living will not be right either.

Few things focus one’s life like impending judgment. This is why Jonathan Edwards resolved “never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do, if I expected it would not be above an hour, before I should hear the last trumpet” (Resolutions of a Saintly Scholar). Therefore, it is urgent that we recover a robust and expectant eschatology. As we do, we will find that a healthy anticipation of Jesus’ return infuses the Christian life with focus and urgency, proving to accelerate growth in the spiritual disciplines.

Cause and effect can be difficult to disentangle, but in the New Testament there is a clear correlation between anticipating Christ’s return and living a more sanctified Christian life. Expecting to meet Jesus occurs with a sober intention to purify one’s life, and the call to purify one’s life occurs in concert with anticipating Jesus’ return. This is why one preacher famously said we should live as though “Christ died yesterday, rose from the grave today, and is coming back tomorrow.”

A Renewed Witness

The more Christians contemplate Jesus’ return—and the final judgment associated with it—the more we will be renewed in our evangelistic witness. This is rooted in the gospel and the Great Commission itself. The lost urgently need to hear of Christ before they meet him. After all, as Peter reminds us, God has delayed Christ’s return and final judgment to allow time for a greater harvest of souls. Peter writes, “The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).

The second coming of Jesus and the renewal of our personal witness is precisely where the inerrancy of Scripture and the exclusivity of the gospel intersect. To embrace the total truthfulness of God’s Word—including the soon-coming return of Christ and the corresponding truth that all must repent and believe in Jesus to be saved—should propel us into a renewed fervor for the Great Commission. The Christian who confesses Jesus is coming and that salvation is found only in his name must be dynamic, not static, in his witness.

Conclusion

The church’s attention to Jesus’ return seems to be seasonal, with interest rising and falling based upon a host of issues, most especially current geo-political events. The need of the hour is not for more end-times speculation or an unhealthy preoccupation with the sequence of eschatological events. Such interests should give way to an eschatological anticipation that impacts how we live the Christian life until he returns.

Perhaps there should be a touch of Harold Camping in us all: hoping, yearning, and even expecting Jesus’ return. Until he comes, we find ourselves with the saints of the ages, longing for the day when the kingdom of this world becomes the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and praying with the saints of the ages, “Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/oBa5Vujsc0o

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/AHuBGzJD8NY

Not long ago, a candidate reached out and asked me for specifics as to why he wasn’t selected, as well as for advice as to how he could better position himself the next time he applied for a position. The young man is to be commended for his willingness to learn—I have a hunch that will serve him well in ministry. Below is an adaptation of what I shared with him:

1. Trust God’s Timing and Be Faithful Where You Are

If you’re on the job hunt and not seeing much movement, don’t be discouraged. If we really believe that the Lord is sovereign and has a plan and purpose for our lives, we can trust Him with the timing of our next ministry assignment. Be sure to remain faithful right where you are until He moves you. Your current assignment is not wasted time—it’s preparation for what’s next.

2. Understand That Fit Matters

One thing many candidates forget in their search is that qualifications often are not the differentiating factor between one candidate and the other. In this instance, for example, we hired someone who already attended our church. He understood our city, our culture, and our values. While other candidates had a stronger resume on paper, the relational fit and contextual familiarity tipped the scales. Remember that you don’t want to go somewhere you don’t fit, so take it as a kindness from the Lord when He keeps that from happening.

3. Get Serious About Your Resume

Your resume is usually your first impression, so make it count.

• Structure your resume strategically. Highlight your most relevant experience up front.
• Be concise. Remember, the person hiring for the role may have dozens of these to read. Make it easy for them to get their head around your skills and experience.
• Proofread everything. Then have someone else proofread it. Then proofread again. Attention to detail matters.
• Avoid technical hiccups. A broken link in your email or an unreadable attachment can make a poor impression.

4. Prepare Well for the Interview

If you’re able to land an interview, be sure you’re well prepared for it. Take the time to do your homework on the church. Make sure you’ve looked over the job description or the church’s website and listened to a sermon or two so that you have a good feel for what the church is like and what they prioritize. When you answer questions, be thorough but do not ramble. Be prepared to answer questions with stories from your ministry experience. These should be real-life examples of things you’re proud of in your ministry, challenges you’ve faced, obstacles you’ve overcome, and problems you’ve solved. Stories like these help the person interviewing you know you’re up for the challenge.

5. Don’t Walk Alone

Finally, make sure you’ve got someone in your corner throughout your search. This could be a mentor, your pastor, or a professor who stays in the loop with you as you apply and interview. Ask them to pray with you, encourage you, and speak truth into your life. If you’re connected to a seminary, most of them have student success offices designed to help you. Take advantage of those resources.

Trust the Lord

Remember, you can trust the Lord with your future. In His timing, He’ll make His plan known. In the meantime, prepare well, be faithful where you are, and rest in Him.

But what I’ve noticed over my time at Midwestern is that behind most of these expository machines is often an even more impressive wife! She’s often the steel spine of this dude! Usually she’s also a mom with kids in tow. What’s more, these amazing mom-wives have quite literally given their lives away for the gospel ministry, thus evidencing Jesus as their obvious Lord. They are the often unsung heroes of ministry. They have unflinchingly run headlong into the supposed storm of our culture, that is, what America calls an “identity crisis.”  They hear regularly from feminists, family, culture, and even their own self-condemning inner voice, “Stay-at-home-mom, huh?” “So, why did I send you to college, then?” “Why would you waste your life like that?” “So you’re going to give up your career to wipe snotty noses!” “Don’t lose your dreams following your man around!”

If it’s true, and it is, that the first shall be last and the last first, there are going to be a lot of moms who wind up first in the ultimate line. My suspicion is that they’re going to have some fairly heavy crowns to cast before their Lord (cf. Revelation 4:10).

If you’ve ever had occasion to run into one of these selfless, majestic mom-creatures, you know they are no normal “moms.”  It’s sort of like bumping into velvet steel! They live their lives by their Lord’s leave. They don’t know when or where they’ll receive their deployment orders, but go they will. These are disciples of Christ, gospel soldiers of which the world is not worthy. They don’t talk about following Jesus in theory. No, they do it every day in an Ephesians 5 way. They are blazing a trail, with their husband at the helm, and they’re eager to glorify God with all their minutes, pennies, and tears. They’re wicked smart—no mindless drones here. No, these are calculated, sharp, and cunning Kingdom women. They walk a road in life that is peppered with geographical moves, hard good-byes, and at times dark loneliness. But yet they abide! They stay the course.

This post is written in praise of these majestic mom-creatures. I salute you, mom! I raise my metaphorical Southern Baptist grape juice glass to you. You’re God’s beauteous, gospel-bearing feet that occupy his deployed boots-on-the-ground!

What I want to do in the rest of this post is to help you see the evangelistic and/or discipleship thread that streams through all the normalcy of everyday mom life. My aim is to transform in your mind what seems to be merely normal into the eternal. I am intentionally conflating the categories of evangelism and discipleship because in the theater of the home, they often collapse on themselves to the visible eye (Deuteronomy 6:7–9). The category would be most strongly expressed through “the fear of the Lord.” That is what you are doing, moms; you are teaching your children to fear the Lord above all else.

Manners

Mom, the raw materials of the Kingdom are sitting before you in all their diaper-bound, sticky-fingered, snot-prone glory. As you teach them to use a fork properly, to say “please,” to wipe their mouth, and not to burp aloud, you are laying the groundwork for Christian hospitality, that most important reality to the Christian faith, the field upon which Christians relate to one another in homes.

Hospitality is one of the most important means by which Christians are viewed as an attractively peculiar people in this world. It is how we care for one another. It is also how we bring a lost world into our homes to see a loving, well-ordered household. Hospitality is the oft-viewed theater in which the world becomes convinced that the gospel powerfully changes people. You, dear mom, are laying the groundwork for your child’s hospitality, not to mention that you are constantly doing hospitality yourself. Imagine if your child never learned these basic manners! They would be a social pariah. You may think what you are doing is the height of normalcy, but the Bible would say you are the mechanism of God’s great boon of discipleship.

Feeding

What Deuteronomy 8 teaches us is that God brought Israel out into the desert, at least in part, to show them their utter dependence upon him as their guiding Shepherd. They had no food or water without God providing it. Not one ounce! This is likened to your feeding of the five children! They are helpless without you. They are not even equipped to fend for themselves without you. Ultimately, you are one of the many building blocks that God is using to teach your children their dependence upon him for everything. You may even be the most important building block in that particular foundation. They are helpless outside the help of the Lord. And you are the hinge point, daily, that stands between that knowledge of God and your child. You’re a living parable of the care and sustenance we have in the Father, as well as a parable of our utter reliance upon him. So, when you repeat to your baby one hundred times over, “Here comes the airplane!” you are evangelizing and discipling.  You are teaching them the fear of the Lord. Just like Israel, it’s not really about the bread; it’s about God.

Sleep

When you teach, or better yet, enforce, your children to adhere to a sleep schedule, you are upholding the long-prescribed practice of Sabbath rest. It’s through sleep that God gets at our finitude. Sleep is an acknowledgement of our humanness. It’s one of the ways we maintain the Creator/creature distinction. We are unarguably dependent upon the Lord. Set in the DNA of your child is the need for Sabbath, and you are helping them to see that. You are helping them to realize their absolute dependence upon their good Creator for provision and all things good.

No

The world has realities that are bigger than we are and that stand outside us. Realities such as these: Adultery brings utter destruction. Cops have the power to arrest you. There are consequences for your choices. If you ride your bike into the road, you can be killed. If you jump off the counter, it’s highly likely you’ll be maimed. When you teach your child to understand these realities using the word, the truth vehicle, “no,” you are evangelizing and discipling. Maybe it is more proper to say you are laying the groundwork for the Holy Spirit to convict and enliven (salvation), but evangelizing and discipling you are, nonetheless.

The concepts your children associate with “no” are the very foundational building blocks that God uses to help lost image-bearers grasp their need for his forgiveness. This is the fodder of regeneration. The realities that accompany the concept of “no” are often how God displays our need for Christ’s substitutionary cross work in our stead. You’re teaching them the Law, mom. You’re “doing Torah.” Don’t fall to the sin of minimizing your role. These children are the future inhabiters of the New Heavens and the New Earth! These are the future justice-makers, lawyers, teachers, counselors, preachers, moms, and dads. Take heart, dear struggling mom; you are pointing the way to the narrow road. You are indispensable as a means of God’s grace in your children’s lives.

Alphabet

Mom, you will be the precious touchpoint between your child and his or her reading the Word of God! The mechanics of learning to read are the eventual lens through which your child’s eyes will be opened to the basics of the world and to the magnificent universes of knowledge that rest in God, just waiting to be discovered. Imagine all the frontiers they’ll discover in God! You are the foundation of this. Imagine what they would miss if you didn’t teach them A, B, C, D, E…. Again, A, B, C, D, E. Never lose heart. God is using you to shape the inhabiters of eternity. Those little pudgy-faced gremlins are actually immortal, and you’ve been called before the foundation of the earth to be a tool in the hands of God to mint them into his image.

Abortion

Mom, with every wiped nose, you stand in utter defiance of the abortion culture. Our age has tragically fallen into the sin of slaughtering image-bearers. We as a nation, and notion, have called light darkness. We have attempted to construe blessings as curses. But you, mom, stand against this every day. With every hug, every meal, every answered question, you are picketing Planned Parenthood. You don’t simply espouse sanctity of life; you live it! So teach the elementary principles of logic to those babies to the glory of God. Answer a thousand and one seemingly aimless questions to the glory of God. Adopt too many children to the glory of God. Clean up dropped bowls of food 37½ times to the glory of God. The world needs you to be the most glorious mother you can possibly be—the world needs your mothering, in a manner of speaking.

Teaching and Transforming

So, moms, you are a bright-shining city on a hill. You are the means by which God unleashes his compassion on the world. And by the grace of God and the love of Christ, you will stand resurrected before your Lord and Savior something different than you currently are, not that what you are isn’t already the stuff of amazement; but know that God is transforming you. God is discipling you as you disciple your children. He is running you through the gauntlet of motherhood with great purpose. He is changing you as your children change before your eyes. And your children are the next era of the Kingdom.

__________

Editor’s note: This article was originally published at For the Church on October 31, 2016.

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Because of my work, I sit down regularly with single young women. Single young women who want nothing more than a wedding ring, the kids, the house, the whole lot. And mind you, their wishes are never wicked or wrong. What they desire is not evil. What they hope for isn’t silly. They are not glassy-eyed about their future. They are not sitting across from me wondering where Prince Charming is. They are faithful young women. Hard-working. Funny. Beautiful. Smart. And they have done well to steward what they have up to this point.

And yet, I see it. When the water is poured again and they lean back after a dish is served to their friends. When they take a breath and their shoulders slump a little. After they’ve told me all of they’ve said of their current life, their work, their time, their goals. They don’t want to say it, for fear that admitting it will make them look weak.

“I know it’s silly,” one girl said. “I know. But…” She hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I really just want to be married. To raise some kids. To take care of a home.” She’s almost embarrassed by the time she’s finished saying the sentiment. As if admitting it has made any impressive strength and wit she had fade away into a pile of proverbial laundry and dishes. As if she’s ashamed for wanting something so “trivial” and simple. “Is that silly? I mean, it’s really all I really want to do.”

We’ve gone so far down the road of feminism that we’ve forgotten how to proudly be feminine. You want to carry a child in your bones and lay down your life for them for more than 18 years? You want to lay down your life and learn to die to self for the rest of your life? You want to serve someone with all your heart, body, and soul? You want to master the art of cooking for a crowd and have clean clothes and end each day knowing that there’s a group of people who look to you as one of their anchors and rocks? You want to work your tired body from dawn to dusk for love?

How silly it is not. How trivial is no way to describe it.

I wish we loved the strength it takes for a woman to become a wife and a mother. We marvel at her physical strength when she births a child. But we forget what invisible strength she shows when she lays down her life for her home every day after that. Social media spends all its energy telling women to remember who they are, to fight for their sacred spaces, to become the women they want to be. All things that feel confusing when you’re holding a newborn baby and learning to forget your self-centeredness, to allow others into your personal space, and to become the woman that you are becoming and not who you thought you’d be.

I wish that as a culture we understood what happens in those four walls when two adults decide to sacrifice for one another, be good stewards of their money, welcome in guests, and raise a generation to know the heritage of the Lord. I wish we called it more than a contract, an agreement, or even a commitment to vows. I wish we called it holy, beautiful, other-worldly.

We’ve tried to make it easy. We’ve updated our lives with gadgets and gizmos aplenty. We’ve made our machines smarter. We’ve made our cleaning supplies more time efficient. We’ve scrubbed the hard work right out the door. We don’t even need to meal plan or grocery shop anymore. Fresh groceries can show up at our door, pre-measured, pre-planned, ready to go to the table within 30 minutes.

We’ve turned our properties into museums. Instead of well-loved they are well-liked on social media and we’ve forgotten how to create a home; instead we curate a scene for those who will never step foot through our door. We’ve replaced hard conversations with texts.

We’ve told husbands and wives that the primary goal of their marriage is their own happiness. We’ve sold them the lie that once it gets hard, tired, menial, once it gets weary, someone raises their voice, or someone says something they regret, that we can get out with a white flag that says, “This just isn’t for me anymore.”

We’ve made love about sex. And sex about self.

When a woman says she wants to make dinner for her family, we crack a joke about June Cleaver and we laugh because who wants to waste their time with that? When a woman says she wants to stay home and raise children, we give a curt smile and say, “But what do you really want to do with your life?” And should she decide to pursue that, other women will be the first to look down their noses at her, tell her she’s not adding anything, that she’s slowing down progress.

As if giving up your life for others isn’t an incredible thing. We applaud heroes on the battlefield, social justice workers on the borderlines, desperate souls who risk everything for the ones they love.

But marriage? Motherhood? Small living? Psh. *eye roll* It’s 2019, right?

As if the woman who chooses such things has given up. As if her internal engine doesn’t weary. As if she’s not feeling incredibly alone because all of her 9–5 friends have opted for happy hours and bursting bank accounts while she empties herself for souls who need every ounce of her life.

Children have become the last resort. The final hurrah for a marriage that spends years “finding itself.” Career trumps caretaker. Independence is king. Personal happiness above that insane idea of laying it all down.

This is not to say that those who can’t have children, don’t have children, or aren’t married are inherently wrong. I’m just wondering if we have to speak so condescendingly about those who have said the hard “Yes” to the humbling and long-term work of marriage and family. Can we stop acting like they’ve chosen a simple and silly life? Can we stop talking about children like they’re soul-sucking, dream-killing, money-grabbing leeches on society? Can we stop treating wives and moms with the eye-rolling disdain that says, “Only the simple-minded woman would choose such an outdated path”?

We all buy into this narrative so much that when a 21-year-old girl sits across the table from me and tells me that she wants to be a mother, she blushes and gives a thousand caveats as to why she knows it’s not the optimal choice.

And yet—here’s what I know to be true. I’m nearly 36. I’ve carried two children in these bones and I’ve nursed them, held them, and wept over them, and because of them, I’ve planned meals for more than 10 years now for hungry bellies and bottomless pits. I’ve had seasons of scratching the bottom of empty bank accounts and seasons where I’ve forgotten to worry about money at all. I’ve forgotten myself entirely and sometimes thought of myself only and always too much.

Everyone in their 30s is talking about a rebirth and I’m still learning how to die.

But the souls that move in bodies in and around my home? They are a legacy and an investment that I do not ever regret giving it all for. When I’m weary and feeling empty, when my life goals feel lifetimes away and my body isn’t the one I hoped I’d have, I can promise you that I wouldn’t give them up for a thousand trips around the world, a perfect waistline, or a name linked to fame.

The world can forget me, but they will not.

Last summer, while the kids chased fireflies and the men smoked pipes, while the bonfire’s flames licked the edge of the summer sky, my friend turned to me and said: “Do you ever feel like you found the secret to happiness?” Her long legs crossed, a toddler tucked on her lap, she smiled. “You know—you see all these people out there chasing happiness? Adventure? Purpose? And do you think we’ve found it? Right here in our simple homes, good husbands, these kids…” she trailed off.

“I do think we’ve found it. It’s all right here,” I nodded back.

So, my dear friends, as the poet Wendell Berry said:

“…every day do something

that won’t compute. Love the Lord.

Love the world. Work for nothing.

Take all that you have and be poor.

Love someone who does not deserve it.”

And don’t blush for saying that’s all you really wanted anyway.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/NK3xh_sQbB4

            Wonderful are your works;

                        my soul knows it very well. (Psalm 139:14)

Psalm 139 ought to impress the weight and wonder of God upon your soul. In light of this psalm, churches should in turn feel the weight and wonder of their ministry to students. Let us take just a slice of this glory and meditate on verse 14, answering three questions: What does this verse mean, why does it matter, and what does it look like in your church’s student ministry?

What Does Psalm 139:14 Mean? 

First, consider the whole psalm. This is a psalm about wondering and pondering the magnificence of God. Specifically, David is marveling at God’s knowledge, His presence, and His creation.

In verses 1–6, David marvels that God knows everything about him. God knows his comings and goings, his working and resting, his acting and thinking. It is too wonderful for David. In verses 7–12, our psalmist wonders at God’s presence. There is nowhere David has been, is, or will be where God is not. David is never alone. God is in heaven and in the grave, in the sky with the birds and in the sea with the fish. God leads and holds. Not even darkness stops His presence. Finally, in verses 13–16, David punctuates these observations by wondering at how the Lord created him. It is God who formed him. It is God who thought of David, brought his parents together, knitted him in the womb, and watched his growth.

This is not a psalm about the magnificence of man but the magnificence of his Creator. It is the Creator’s magnificence that David so memorably praises in verse 14: “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

We are fearfully made. Fearfully is an interesting word to use. But it is the same word that we ascribe to our relation to the Lord. We fear the Lord. This is a weighty thing. We are in awe of Him, in the same way we awe at how we were created.

Wonderfully made speaks to the uniqueness of our design. David marvels at how he was made as one of the people of God. He has been set apart as one of God’s chosen people.

This verse points to the image of God in us. We are all created in the image of God. We have been given souls that can have affections, minds that can practice wisdom, and wills that can do righteous deeds. We’ve been created to reflect the glory of God to the rest of creation.

This image uniquely gives us inherent dignity. We are valuable and worthy of being treated with respect because we are all little images of the Creator. His image gives everyone value, from the youngest to the oldest. In this way, God loves all people. They all reflect Him, whether dimly or brightly. 

Why Does Psalm 139:14 Matter?

God is the Creator and sustainer of everything. Not a galaxy rotates in the universe without the instruction of the Lord. He spins the very universe on His finger and beholds all worlds and stars at once. He holds together the atoms that make up you and me. He sees every revolution of every electron that spins around every nucleus of every atom. He created the friendly dog and the majestic lion. He created the bustling trees and beautiful sunsets. He enjoys the sun setting continually on earth and on every other planet that exists with its sun. Yet of all these wonderful things, you and I are the crown of His creation. Humans. We bear His image, unlike everything else. You have intrinsic worth greater than any sunset or solar system. The students in your church have that same worth.

But at the same time, every other created thing in the universe obeys the voice of God. The only created things that rebel are the creatures that bear His image. We mar and distort the image with our sin. So, God in His wisdom, not desiring for us to stay that way, sent His Son. The perfect image. The radiance of His glory. The exact imprint of His nature.[1] His Son came and took on that image-bearing flesh. The true image takes on the reflection. He lived as we should and died as we should so that, through faith, our image might be restored to its true beauty.

So why does this psalm and the image of God matter for your student ministry? Because for the limited time that you have with them, you will have five or 500 broken image-bearers that need the image-restoring gospel. These students have worth that the world and even they themselves will try to blur and break. You have the gospel of life and light for them.

What Does Psalm 139:14 Look Like in Your Church’s Student Ministry?

I want to impress the weight and wonder of the task on you.

First, if you are in Christ, you bear a restored image of God, and your students need to see that. Let whatever you do be done in holiness, love, and wonder. When you sing, sing in awe and fear of the Lord. When you pray, pray like you know the Lord hears and answers you. When you eat stale chips, drink flat Cokes, and play cringy youth group games, do it to the glory of God. When you speak, let your words be seasoned with glory.

Second, these students need the image-restoring gospel. Make sure they hear that gospel—that God is holy, they are not, Christ came to be what we could not be, and we can have Christ’s righteousness and forgiveness of sin if we repent and place our trust in Him and His work. The Lord has been with these students since the beginning. He knitted them together. He knew their names before they were conceived. He has providentially placed them in your care to hear the good news of Jesus. Do not waste that.

Reflect the Lord’s holiness. Reflect the Lord’s love. Reflect the Lord’s gospel.

That was the weight of your task. Now let me lighten it. Let me show you the wonder.

You can trust in the providence, wisdom, mercy, and grace of God. He is the one who does the life changing and soul saving. He lets us be a part of this process when we proclaim the gospel and build up the saints. So at the end of every Wednesday, school year, and church camp, you can sleep.

The Lord will care for these students after they leave your care. You are being entrusted with them for just a little bit. It is your privilege and responsibility. Be faithful and entrust the fruit to the Lord. His love is greater than your love. His grace is greater. His mercy is greater. I pray you minister this week with wonder and awe at God. Minister knowing that these students have been fearfully and wonderfully made. I pray you end each youth group gathering saying to the Lord, “Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”

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[1] Hebrews 1:3.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/wRh7ynzbmtw

When I was younger, I would pray that God would give me a dream where I was a disciple with Jesus. I wanted, just for a night, to be able to walk with Him, talk with Him, and experience what it would have been like. I think this is part of why shows like The Chosen (despite their flaws) are so popular. They give people a vision of what friendship and fellowship with Jesus could have been like.

But I never got the answer to my prayer, and we don’t live in a TV series.

Jesus is not physically here anymore.

On Easter, we celebrate the good news that Jesus is alive. But He is not physically present. Are we missing out, or can we still know Jesus like the disciples did?

What Was It Like to Fellowship with Jesus?

What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have observed and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—that life was revealed, and we have seen it and we testify and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us—what we have seen and heard we also declare to you, so that you may also have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete. (1 John 1:1–4 CSB)

John says that during Jesus’s time on earth the disciples experienced direct fellowship with Him.

Imagine how awesome that would be! You would never have to pray for wisdom when facing a difficult decision; you just walk up to Jesus and ask Him your question. You wouldn’t have to ask for God’s comfort; you just go on a walk with Jesus, eat a meal with Him, and receive His hug. You wouldn’t have to ask for His peace; He may literally calm the storm. You wouldn’t have to pray for God to help you; you could just ask Jesus to come over to your house and physically help you with your kids, or guest preach at your church, or join the prayer team. You would never have to wonder why God is silent or feel that He’s distant. You would have living fellowship with Him. You would listen, talk, and enjoy.

John says this fellowship was complete joy. All other joys are incomplete shadows of this joy. They have shape and form but miss the color, detail, and fullness of what they point to.

The death of Jesus could have crushed His disciples for many reasons. But one easily forgotten aspect is they lost their friend. They enjoyed being with Him. However great your best friend is, he or she is not perfect. No matter how kind or wise the most mature saints in your church may be, they don’t compare with Jesus. Whatever qualities you enjoy in your close circle of friends that make you eager to spend time with them are but degrees and reflections of the fulfillment found in Jesus.

Jesus is called the word of life, the source of all goodness, fulfillment, and satisfaction. To know Him is to know true life. This must have been one reason the resurrection was such good news. The disciples’ joyful fellowship was restored!

This is what they had. But what about us?

Can We Have This Joyful Fellowship?

John is not trying to make us jealous. He invites us, saying, “What we have seen and heard we also declare to you, so that you may also have fellowship with us.” The resurrection means Jesus is still alive; He still offers this fellowship.

This is one aspect that sets Christianity apart from all the other major world religions. They don’t claim that after the death of their leader you can still have fellowship with them. No one says they have a personal relationship with Buddha or Mohammad or Moses. Those were teachers who brought a message. But after their death, they were gone.

But the resurrection means Jesus brought more than a message. He brought even more than forgiveness. He brought fellowship with Himself. And John, writing to believers like us, who never met Jesus in the flesh, says we can still have this.

How Do We Experience This Fellowship?

John says, “What we have seen and heard we also declare to you, so that you may also have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.”

This means the purpose of his letter (and by extension, what we know to be true of all God’s Word) is that we would have fellowship with Jesus, which fulfills and completes our joy.

The word of life came to the disciples in the incarnation, and it comes to us through declaration. We are able to experience the joy of fellowship that they had as we read and interact with the living Word of God.

Sometimes when we read a good book or watch a movie, we begin to feel like we know the characters, like we are a part of the story. We may cry at the death of Dumbledore, be inspired by the speeches on horseback, or clap at the victory shot in Hoosiers. Though our emotion is real, our presence with the characters is not. But the Bible is more.

The Bible isn’t just a book to be studied and applied. It’s the voice of the living God. We don’t just read; we relate. God speaks to us, actively, today. We listen as God speaks (His promises, correction, revealing His character and work), and we respond back in prayer (worship, thanksgiving, confession, supplication).

Jesus is not physically present, but by His Spirit, He leads us into real fellowship with Him through His Word.

One day we will see Him face to face; we will experience the fullness of uninhibited communion. But right now, we are not settling for second best. The resurrection means the best person to ever live, the only God-man to ever live, is still alive, and we can enjoy fellowship with Him today. Don’t settle for watching on TV or dreaming about what is available to you today.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/i8EJo_cab8A

In the summer of 2023, a group of faculty and leaders from Midwestern Seminary had the opportunity to take a tour of Israel. Having arrived in the Holy Land, our first day of touring was a stunning experience. Each of the tour stops provided a window into history and Christian theology. Our time in Caesarea Maritima, Mount Carmel, and Nazareth allowed us to reflect on Gentile inclusion, God’s glory, and the gospel.

Caesarea Maritima & Gentile Inclusion

Caesarea Maritima was built by Herod the Great as a harbor city that could expand the economic horizons of the Jezreel Valley and his status in the eyes of Caesar Augustus. The robust port provided easy shipping access and trade in the Mediterranean Sea. A city name that reminded everyone of the Roman emperor solidified Herod’s favor with Augustus. Herod, ever concerned for his safety and the power of Rome’s army, also built barracks in Caesarea.

One of the many military commanders who served there, Cornelius, is named in Scripture. This centurion was the first Gentile convert of Peter’s ministry, and in Acts 10, Luke records the account of his conversion. Cornelius feared God and acted kindly toward the Jewish people. One night, he had a vision telling him to send for Peter, who was staying 20 miles south in Joppa, and ask him to come to Caesarea. Meanwhile, in Joppa, Peter had his vision that declared all foods clean. When the delegation from Cornelius arrived, the Spirit told Peter to go with them to visit Cornelius in Caesarea. The rest is salvation history.

Peter preached the gospel to Cornelius there, and the Spirit came upon him and his household. When Peter saw the evidence of the Spirit, he understood that the coming of the Spirit and the removal of food distinctions were two sides of the same coin. God had sent His Spirit upon the Gentiles, bringing salvation to all peoples. And Cornelius in Caesarea was the first of Peter’s Gentile converts.

But Caesarea has further significance for Gentile inclusion. After Paul was arrested in Jerusalem for supposedly bringing Gentiles into the Jewish temple, he was sent to Caesarea to be kept safe from the Jewish mob in Jerusalem. Luke devoted a large section of Acts (23:23–26:32) to recounting Paul’s stay there. In Caesarea, Paul defended himself by stating that he had welcomed Gentiles into the faith—but not into the temple as he had been accused. It was in Caesarea that Paul finally appealed to Caesar in Rome. After he arrived there, his mission to the Gentiles was confirmed (Acts 28:23–29).

Standing on the very stones where Paul would have walked and given his defense is an experience that words cannot describe.

Mount Carmel & God’s Glory

From Caesarea Maritima, we traveled up to Mount Carmel, where Elijah demonstrated God’s glory. In 1 Kings 17:1, the prophet Elijah told Israel’s idolatrous King Ahab that no rain would fall on the fertile Jezreel Valley except at Elijah’s command. A drought ensued, and Ahab chased Elijah down to intercede for the land. For Elijah, this was all about God’s glory. Elijah told Ahab to summon the prophets of Baal to Mount Carmel. Elijah also prayed and asked God to show that He alone is the Lord.

Atop Mount Carmel, Elijah set up an altar and drenched it in water. It was struck with fire and consumed, while the altar of the prophets of Baal was touched only by human hands. Then, after executing the 450 false prophets in the Jezreel Valley, Elijah climbed Mount Carmel again and prayed for rain. Our tour group stood on Mount Carmel and looked to the west, as Elijah’s servant did, waiting on a cloud as the sign of rain.

Nazareth & The Gospel

Our third stop in the region was Nazareth. Jesus was raised in Nazareth, a small village in the valley of several mountains. It was a no-name kind of town. Nathanael questioned Philip whether anything good could come out of Nazareth (John 1:46). In Luke 4:16–23, Luke records that in the synagogue in Nazareth, Jesus began His public ministry by reading from Isaiah 61:1–2 and proclaiming Himself as the Lord’s anointed prophet of the good news. The people of the town rejected Jesus and drove Him to a cliff on the eastern edge of the city. Standing upon the edge of that cliff reminds one that the good news is not always welcome.

Conclusion

All of these scenes in the region of Galilee anticipate Jesus’s ministry in Jerusalem on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Luke records that once Jesus had completed His ministry in the regions around Nazareth and the Sea of Galilee, He set His face toward Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). It was in Jerusalem, via the cross and resurrection, that Jesus would glorify God in a way that Elijah could not. As very God and very man, Jesus took the punishment for human sin and displayed God’s power for the world to see by rising from the dead. It was in Jerusalem that the temple curtain would be torn on that Friday afternoon, removing the wall separating Gentiles from Jews so all peoples could have access to God together (Eph. 2:11–22; Heb. 10:19–22).

I don’t watch much TV these days, so I rarely see any commercials anymore. But even I noticed that commercials in mid-2020 took on a totally new tone. This was, of course, in the midst of the Covid pandemic, and large corporations were scrambling to maintain their sales during a national lockdown. Let me remind you of the basic commercial script during these months.

Let’s say the product is Reese’s peanut butter cups. The scene opens with dramatic, inspiring music. There’s a sunrise, or sunset, we’re not sure. Children are dancing. They’re talking with grandma by video. Parents are smiling from their laptops. And the narrator, in a deep and reassuring voice, says: “In these uncertain times…now more than ever…we are resilient, we will make it through…nothing can stop us…Reese’s. You can eat them at home.”

Whatever the product, the message was the same. But immediately, an internal inconsistency was evident. “Nothing can stop us,” they would say. Well, Covid can stop us. “We will make it through.” Well, not everyone.

This was the problem revealed: We are needy creatures, and life is far more fragile than we realize. Denying this will do us no good. Trying to motivate ourselves to overcome is sure to run out of steam. For millions of people, Covid meant the death of loved ones, losing their jobs, financial hardship, strained relationships, political strife, church conflict, and persistent despair. (A more honest commercial would have been: “Everything is awful. There’s not much to say. But Reese’s might help you feel better for a few minutes.”)

To be “a needy person” is one of the great insults of our performance-based, success-oriented culture. But the truth is that we are creatures of need. There will never be a time when we are no longer in need.

And believe it or not, that’s a good thing. Jesus invites us—commands us, even—to acknowledge our need and bring it to God.

Why We’re Needy Creatures

We were designed to have needs long before sin and all its effects entered the world. Adam and Eve needed God for life. They needed God for provision. They needed God’s world as a home—a habitat in which they could live, move, multiply, and cultivate good things. To be needy, then, is not the same as being sinful. Further, even Jesus, in his humanity, experienced need.

When the Son of God came to earth, he came in need. He didn’t descend in glory. He didn’t come as a young adult, strong and well-educated and self-sufficient. He came as a baby. He spent nine months in Mary’s womb. He was completely dependent on others, like all other babies. Luke 2 says “he grew in wisdom and stature” as a young man. He was needy and dependent because he was fully human—as well as fully divine. He needed his Father’s presence; he needed food, water, and rest.

Not only did Jesus exhibit human neediness, he taught it. In his parables and teachings, Jesus shows us our need. Remember Jesus’s Beatitudes? If we could distill them down, they’d be this, simply put: Blessed are the needy, for they will be satisfied. In fact, it seems like Jesus came especially for those with the most significant, immediate needs (Luke 4:18–19).

To be human is to be in need. To resist your neediness is to dehumanize yourself and reject God’s design. We reject our neediness often out of pride, but also because we have a low view of our physical world, which is the environment by which God meets so many of our needs.

Being a Christian is not first about being a good person like Jesus. It’s about being the kind of needy, broken person that Jesus loves to forgive and heal and restore.  The needy receive forgiveness and respond in love. The proud tragically secure their own future—life without God. It’s haunting that Jesus lets the rich young ruler walk away from him; Jesus doesn’t pursue him (Matt. 19:16–22). Why? The young man has no need of Jesus. Or rather, he has no awareness of his need.

Could it be that Jesus doesn’t reluctantly meet our needs, but that he actually delights in meeting our needs? As the pastor Jon Tyson has said, “Jesus is drawn to your need.”

Jesus Is Drawn to Your Need

On one occasion, Jesus is moving through a crowd, and a synagogue ruler named Jairus approaches him and begs Jesus to heal his only daughter (Luke 8:42). Jesus is making his way through the crowd, headed for Jairus’s house, when a woman with great need interrupts him—she had had a chronic health issue for twelve years—and reaches out to touch Jesus’s clothes. Why? “Because she had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. For she said, ‘If I touch even his garments, I will be made well’” (Mark 5:27–28). The result?

“Immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease” (Mark 5:29). Instantly, Jesus realizes power has gone out from him, and he stops to ask who had touched him. When the woman sees she can hide no longer, in a moment of great shame, she reveals her condition and approaches Jesus “with fear and trembling… and fell down before him, and told him the whole truth” (Mark 5:33). And—don’t miss this—she doesn’t do this in private. The crowds are still around. When she falls in front of Jesus and explains why she is making physical contact with him, we see that she “declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him” (Luke 8:47). She is doing this in front of a massive gathering of people who will look down on her for her uncleanness and neediness. And yet Jesus raises her up out of her shame and says, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be healed from your affliction” (Mark 5:34).

Now, pause and recognize the difference between these two individuals. Jairus was a man, a respected leader of the synagogue, a pillar of the Jewish community. This woman, who is not named in the story, is likely older, unmarried or widowed, and lacks any social status; even more, she’s chronically ill and unclean. Jairus stands at the center of Jewish life with so much influence; this woman cowers outside of it, with none. You’d expect Christ to be more drawn to Jairus’s need—after all, healing the daughter of a synagogue ruler would certainly circulate the news of Jesus like wildfire. Not to mention, Jairus isn’t the infected one. He’s still in good standing before the community. If the aim is ultimately to spread the good news and reveal Jesus as the divine Son of God, pushing past this woman and getting a move on to Jairus’s house would be the efficient and effective method for ministry growth. Draw near to the one in good standing—the guy with influence—right?

This woman, on the other hand, is the infected one. When Jesus realizes power has gone out from him, he could have just moved on to the more important ministry with the more important person on his schedule for the day. Why stop? Especially with such a “better” ministry opportunity waiting for him at Jairus’s house? And once he discovers the identity of the person who touched him, why address her further?  She got what she wanted, after all. Why linger even longer—long enough to call her daughter, and bless her in the sight of the crowd?

Because Jesus is drawn to need—in all its forms and from all kinds of people. And he can meet more than one at a time. He can be on his way to meeting one and make time to be interrupted by another. So, on the days you feel like your need isn’t as important as the next person’s, remember this woman and tell yourself the truth: Jesus is drawn to need, and he likes when you interrupt him with yours.

More than that, he’ll bless you for coming to him and telling him the whole truth about your needs. Of course, Jesus is the only one who can meet our deepest need—our need of forgiveness and salvation. But he’s drawn to all our needs because he is drawn to us in love.

When we come to Jesus with great need, he responds by giving us his full attention. It doesn’t matter where we stand in society. When we muster up all the faith we can, though we struggle to believe, Jesus stands ready to respond. When we realize we can hide no longer, he is ready to embrace us.

It’s good to be a needy person. Jesus loves to meet your needs.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/cBR2k2h-xRo

A new person to our church asked me this question a few weeks ago. She wasn’t being a smug skeptic; she was genuinely wrestling with the nature of a personal deity who tolerates such decay.

The problem of evil isn’t merely a topic to be discussed in Philosophy 101 courses; it’s a wound that exists in the heart of every person who loves suffering persons and is simultaneously trying to hold onto the twin doctrines of God’s providence and God’s goodness. Like a mother trying to attend to three crying kids all at once, the problem of evil harasses the soul, pulling it in three directions.

“Tread lightly,” I warned. “Do you know what you’re starting to sound like?”

“I know, I know,” she responded, “I’m not smarter than God, blah blah blah. I sound like a Reddit atheist who’s socially awkward, who only knows how to connect with people by antagonizing them.”

“No, that’s not what I was getting at. You’re starting to sound like a biblical author.”

She stared back at me, surprised. “What? I’m telling you about obstacles to my faith, just to be clear.”

“Yes, I hear that. And your obstacles to faith sound like faith. The questions you are raising sound like what we read about in Job, Psalms, Lamentations, and even what we hear from Jesus when He’s suffering. ‘How long, oh Lord? Why have You forsaken me? Why do You stand by idly in the face of evil? You said You hate evil, yet the evil ones flourish.’ What you’re describing as doubts are actually the seeds of faith. About a third of the prayers in the Psalms and a few of the whole books in the Bible sound like this.”

“I didn’t know about that. I thought that was ‘unbeliever’ language,” she said.

“Oh, quite the opposite,” I continued. “In order to be angry at evil, you have to have a concrete belief in the existence of not-evil, or goodness. This shouldn’t be assumed.”

Where Does Good Come From?

“Okay, tell me more.” She leaned in. “Part of what brought me here today is a sense that there has to be a design to all of this; like, for my kids to be objectively and not just subjectively meaningful, there has to be some moral structure to the world.”

“Yes! Exactly!” I said. “That belief in order, meaning, goodness, and beauty—where can it come from? For childhood cancer to be not good, it must be violating some standard of goodness that exists not just in your mind, but above your mind. The same with spousal abuse. If you want to be able to say that these things are objectively bad, there must be an objective good, a standard that is over-and-above subjective preferences or cultural sensibilities.”

“Okay, but how does that connect to faith in God or Jesus?” she asked.

“Here’s how. If everything came from nothing, on accident, then, so the story goes, all that exists is physics and chemistry. Protons and electrons. Atoms. Chemicals and chemical reactions. Your consciousness is just an illusion, a fizzing bag of the periodic table colliding together. Science and scientific inquiry cannot give you an ‘ought,’ but only an ‘is.’ They can’t say what should be. They can only describe what has been. There is no moral or immoral. No good or not good. No beautiful. No ugly. Just a view on reality.

“But,” I continued, “if we aren’t inhabiting mere ‘nature’ but instead a ‘creation,’ then there is a ‘should’—a ‘how things are supposed to be.’ There, evil can be truly evil, not just ‘against my preferences.’”

“I see,” she replied. “I think I’ve been sensing that, and that’s why my family is here today.”

“I can see that. And what a step you’ve taken. The problem of evil is difficult, but the problem of goodness is more difficult. It is certainly part of why I am a Christian today. I have an answer to the problem of goodness, but I’m rarely satisfied by my answer to the problem of evil.”

Trust in the Ultimate Good

“How?” she asked. “How can you not have an answer?”

“Oh, I have an answer,” I said. “But it is only sometimes emotionally satisfying. Often it isn’t. Then I start to pray like the biblical authors. ‘How long, oh Lord? Why do You do what You do? I don’t like what You’re up to!’ The genre is called lament. In Hebrew, Lama means ‘why?’ Many of the laments offered up in the Scriptures are not answered. It is frustrating. When Jesus laments on the cross, He still dies. God in the flesh took His own medicine. So I can at least trust that He gets my emotional state.”

I went on. “But He rose from the dead three days later. So we see that God can use evil for good. Rarely do we get such a clean demonstration of goodness like we do in the good news of Jesus. So we can choose to trust. We inhabit the tension. A preacher named Charles Spurgeon once said, ‘The Christian trusts Him where he cannot trace Him.’”[1]

“Well, I don’t love that, but I guess it makes sense.”

“Yes, but do you see how the problem of goodness has to come before the problem of evil? How beauty must precede ugliness? The chaos of naturalistic evolution cannot deliver on the problem of goodness.”

“Yes. Absolutely,” she said.

“The life God is inviting you into does require trust that grows over time. You have faith in the existence of a creation; next comes faith in the Creator. However, no matter how much you trust Him, you’ll never outgrow the prayers of lament until He returns and makes all things new. And even then, I’m not convinced I will understand all that He’s done in this life; He’ll always be infinite, and we’ll remain finite even into eternity. To trust the infinite One will require discomfort. You are already stepping into that by coming here today and speaking with me. It seems like the Lord has a hook in your mouth, but you’re not quite yet in the book. He will continue what He’s started.”

She teared up, thanked me for talking, and said she’d better go get her kids from the kids’ ministry.

Here’s the reality: No slick answer will solve the relational and emotional difficulty of the problem of evil. A cute answer may even unintentionally cheapen the suffering. Validating the inquirer’s concerns while simultaneously inviting them to consider an additional problem, the problem of goodness, can validate a small spark of faith while inviting the person into an honest life with God. In seeing the person behind the philosophical questions, we can faithfully represent the One who will hear them when they learn to call on His name.

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[1] Charles H. Spurgeon, “A Happy Christian,” from Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Volume 13, The Spurgeon Center, https://www.spurgeon.org/resource-library/sermons/a-happy-christian/#flipbook/.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/jDzFjd76y1Y

The first seven years (1854–1861) of C. H. Spurgeon’s ministry in London were accompanied by a surprising revival. No one could have expected it. Through a nineteen-year-old country preacher, a dying congregation was revitalized, and hundreds—perhaps thousands—were converted under his ministry during those early years. Though only a few dozen were in attendance when Spurgeon first arrived at New Park Street in 1853, by 1861 membership was at 1,473, with thousands more regularly attending.

But revival also brought its challenges. During those years Spurgeon warned his congregation, “If the Lord sends his Spirit like a hurricane, it is ours to deal with skill with the sails lest the hurricane should wreck us by driving us upon some fell rock that may do us serious injury.”[1] Spurgeon had seen churches shipwrecked in the winds of revival.[2] One church boasted of taking in a hundred or so new members in a year, only to excommunicate eighty of them the following year for “disorderly conduct and forsaking the truth.”[3] Other churches were happy to swell their ranks but gave no thought as to how to disciple or engage their people in ministry.[4] Some self-proclaimed revivalists had begun resorting to new tactics and emotionalism, hoping to fabricate the work of the Spirit.[5] Even as Spurgeon experienced a revival in his church, he refused to compromise his theological and ecclesiological convictions. “Take care, ye that are officers in the church, when ye see the people stirred up, that ye exercise still a holy caution, lest the church become lowered in its standard of piety by the admission of persons not truly saved.”[6]

At the same time, Spurgeon did not want to let the winds of revival simply pass by. There was such a response to his preaching that he contemplated at one point becoming a traveling evangelist. But in his experience of itinerant preaching, it was hard to know what the long-term effect was. While preaching in an open field in Wales, Spurgeon describes how “the Spirit of God was poured upon us, and men and women were swayed to and fro under the Heavenly message.” Still, once the meeting ended, the people went their separate ways, and he would never see them again.[7]

While one must be careful not to let the winds destroy the ship, the skillful sailor will look for ways to harness that wind. But how does one harness the hurricane winds of revival? Spurgeon believed it was through the church. As converts gave credible professions of faith, they were brought into the membership of the church, where they could be cared for by the elders and discipled under the ministry of the word. Not only that, but these church members were then engaged in the work of ministry, in both caring for one another and bringing the gospel to the lost around them. Spurgeon’s effort to harness the winds of revival was represented by the building and opening of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in 1861. This magnificent new building that seated six thousand would become the base of operations for Spurgeon’s ministry for the next thirty years.

If the New Park Street Pulpit tells the story of a revival in London, then the Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit tells the story of the harnessing of that revival through an established and expanding church ministry. Like the previous volumes, they are a collection of the published Sunday morning sermons that were being preached week by week at the Metropolitan Tabernacle and then collected into a single volume at the end of each year. But just as God uses the preaching of the word to revive His people, He also uses it to sustain them and send them out. These sermons were the lifeblood of the Metropolitan Tabernacle, establishing that congregation in the word and providing the spiritual vitality needed for all the endeavors that would flow out of it.

~

The stories from Spurgeon’s ministry are remarkable: the vast audiences, the sermons published, the pastors trained, the churches planted, the orphans fed, the missionaries sent out, and the battles fought, all on a vast scale that is hard to imagine. Truly, it was a surprising work of God. It must be remembered, however, that Spurgeon did not do all that alone. He was surrounded in this work by his congregation. These sermons are a reminder that what motivated and sustained these congregational efforts was not human creativity or industry but God working powerfully through the preaching of the gospel. Through these gospel-rich sermons, God brought many to repentance and faith, uniting them to the church and motivating their service.

Church growth experts today will have thousands of new ideas on how to grow a church and keep people engaged. Some of those ideas may be useful. But not if they come at the expense of this one central call of the minister: preach Christ. Spurgeon’s fruitful ministry stands as a stirring commendation to the power of faithful gospel preaching. That’s not to say we can ever presume a particular kind of result. Spurgeon’s story was a surprising and unique work of God in a particular historical context.

Still, those who preach the gospel faithfully can pray and expect that God’s word will not return void. In his one thousandth published sermon, from the parable of the prodigal son, Spurgeon stated the aim of his sermon, once again echoing his words at the opening of the Tabernacle and continuing in the themes that he had already preached thousands of times before:

My desire this morning shall be to put plainly before every sinner here the exceeding abundance of the grace of God in Christ Jesus, hoping that the Lord will find out those who are his sons, and that they may catch at these words, and as they hear of the abundance of the bread in the Father’s house, may say, “I will arise and go to my Father.”[8]

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[1] C. H. Spurgeon, New Park Street Pulpit (1855–1916; repr., Grand Rapids: Refor- mation Heritage Books, 2024), 4:167.

[2] Though in some of these cases, Spurgeon would have questioned whether a real, Spirit-wrought revival took place at all.

[3] Spurgeon, New Park Street Pulpit, 2:76.

[4] Spurgeon states, “Alas! there is such a thing as having a large addition to the church of men that are of no use whatever. Many an army has swelled its ranks with recruits, who have in no way whatever contributed to its might.” New Park Street Pulpit, 2:76.

[5] Spurgeon recounts, “I have heard of the people crowding in the morning, the afternoon, and the evening, to hear some noted revivalist, and under his preach- ing some have screamed, have shrieked, have fallen down on the floor, have rolled themselves in convulsions, and afterwards, when he has set a form for penitents, employing one or two decoy ducks to run out from the rest and make a confession of sin, hundreds have come forward, impressed by that one sermon, and declared that they were, there and then, turned from the error of their ways.” New Park Street Pulpit, 4:162.

[6] Spurgeon, New Park Street Pulpit, 4:167.

[7] C. H. Spurgeon, C. H. Spurgeon’s Autobiography: Compiled from His Diary, Letters, and Records, by His Wife and His Private Secretary (London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1897–1900), 2:93–94.

[8] Spurgeon, Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, 17:386–87.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/ze5ScpIRKlA

Whether you’re a ministry resident weighing the future or a mid-career professional thinking about seminary, the question “Am I called?” can be overwhelming. For many, it represents a major life change, like moving or switching careers. Calling is important, and we’re right to take it seriously. But sometimes we overthink it. Discerning God’s will may not be as complicated as you think.

Before you rush into seminary or take a church job, here are some questions to consider.

“Am I Called?”

The question is broad, but if you believe in Jesus, the answer is simple: “Yes!”

Peter says you are “a royal priest” who is called to proclaim the excellencies of God (1 Peter 2:9). This calling is not vocational but ontological, meaning that it’s more about who we are than what we do. We are all royal priests who proclaim Christ, regardless of whether we work in ministry, or as a CEO, an accountant, or a teacher. So, are you called? Yes, you are called by God to proclaim God—no matter your job.

The Tension: Leave the Boat or Stay?

Peter has settled the big question. You’re called. However, even with 1 Peter 2:9, the feeling that God wants you to do more doesn’t go away so easily. How do we know what Jesus wants us individually to do?

The reality is that Jesus calls some to leave their boats and others to stay. Peter and Andrew were called to follow Jesus and become “fishers of men” (Matt. 4:18–20). But, in other cases, Jesus told people to stay. For example, after Jesus freed the Gerasene demoniac, the man begged to follow Him. Instead of letting him join the disciples, Jesus sent him home to tell others what God had done (Luke 8:38). For Peter, the calling meant to leave his boat, but for the former demoniac, it meant staying home. The calling was different for each, but their mission was the same: Tell people about Jesus.

Not all calls to ministry mean leaving your current career. So, how do you know if you’re called to leave the boat or stay? The answer starts with a little honest self-reflection.

Step One: Question

Start by questioning your internal stirrings. Sometimes, what feels like a calling may simply be discontentment. Some of the same rumblings that make people feel they’re being called into the ministry make some ministers believe they’re supposed to leave the ministry.

“I feel like my job is futile. It never ends and doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere.” “I want to do something meaningful.” “I want freedom! Think of what I could do if I could just read my Bible and disciple people all day.” These are the sentiments I’ve heard from accountants, teachers, and even police officers who are thinking about selling everything to join a ministry. But I’ve also heard them from pastors as they leave the ministry!

Ministry, like any vocation, carries futility. God cursed human work, so all jobs have their “thorns and thistles” (Gen. 3:18). No job, including ministry, escapes this. Discontentment is discontentment, regardless of the field. Before jumping into something new, ask yourself: Am I really feeling the stirrings of a calling, or is it discontentment that Jesus alone can fix?

Step Two: Discover

The next step is accepting that discerning God’s call involves discovery, which takes time. It involves personal reflection and community input. Calling isn’t something you create; it’s something you receive. I’ve found that discovery comes easier when I ask three questions: What are the needs? What are my gifts and passions? What are the opportunities?

Your calling will be the intersection of those three things.

1. What Are the Needs?

Calling begins with seeing the needs around you. God does not call us to dream jobs but to service. Whatever your calling is, it was given to you so that you can serve the needs of God’s people. Paul was called to be an apostle to the Gentiles because they needed the gospel (Eph. 3:1–7). Similarly, Titus stayed in Crete to appoint elders the church needed (Titus 1:5). As you consider what ministry God is calling you to do, ask: What needs do I see in my church or community? In what way does the body of Christ need to be built up?

I remember a church planter who said he felt called to a certain community because “There are thousands of people and hardly any gospel-proclaiming steeples.” God calls us to meet needs, to fill gaps, and to strengthen weaknesses. So, what need is He placing in front of you?

2. What Are My Gifts and Passions?

When God calls you, He equips you. Your gifts are given by the Spirit “for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7). Because they’re from the Spirit, our gifts are not given for comparison but for service. Some may wish they could preach, but every gift, from teaching to hospitality, has equal value in God’s Kingdom.

Alongside gifts, consider your passions. Passion isn’t just about loving something; it’s about loving something so much you’re willing to suffer for it. If you’re passionate about preaching or counseling, you will face challenges in growing that craft. Ministry, like all vocations, requires suffering. What hardships are you willing to endure for the calling God has placed on you?

3. What Opportunities Are in Front of Me?

There’s no ideal ministry; there are just opportunities to serve. Some may seem small or beneath you, but they are often the first steps. Oftentimes, discerning calling doesn’t mean discovering your destination but rather your next step. What does God want you to do next? When assessing your calling, be cautious about dismissing smaller opportunities. Those small opportunities may be big moments through which the Lord develops us into the people He wants us to become.

Kevin DeYoung offers valuable advice: “If God opens the door for you to do something good or necessary, be thankful for the opportunity. But don’t assume that ease or difficulty is a sign of God’s will. God’s will for you is sanctification, and He uses discomfort to make us holy.”

Step Three: Grow

Once you’ve reflected on your calling and the opportunities in front of you, the next step is growth. Ministry is a craft, and like any craft, growth comes through experience. Training may teach you the theory, but only experience will shape you into a craftsman.

Growth in ministry comes as you serve. If you want to preach, teach small groups first or faithfully teach in the children’s ministry (if you can teach kids, you can teach anyone). If you aspire to lead larger ministries, begin by learning to lead smaller volunteer teams. Growth is a process of developing character and skill as you go. The key is to embrace that process and gain experience from whatever opportunities are available, no matter how small.

Confirmation from the Community

In all these steps, involving your church in the discernment process is crucial. Calling is never a solo endeavor; it’s a community one. The church plays a key role in helping us identify our gifts, testing them, and assessing what opportunities are best for us to pursue.

In an article I wrote years ago, I encouraged readers to think of the church as your spiritual gifts test. It is the best place to receive honest feedback on your abilities, your readiness, and even your motives. True calling is affirmed by the community, not just by individual reflection. As we see in Acts 13, even though Paul and Barnabas were called by the Holy Spirit, it was the church who affirmed that calling. Timothy’s calling was affirmed by elders (1 Tim. 4:14). By God’s design, the church is an indispensable piece of discerning our callings.

Fulfill Your Calling

Finally, once you’ve wrestled with these questions and gained clarity, do what Paul told Timothy: “Fulfill your ministry” (2 Tim. 4:5). There comes a point when analysis must give way to action. Faithfulness means getting to work. The opportunities God provides will use your gifts to meet the needs around you—this is your calling.

Don’t overthink it. Take the next step, and trust that as you serve faithfully, God will guide you to fulfill your calling.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/Cbw5hVweU7k

Prayer: Awake! This Morn My Heart Would Rise[1]

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[1] This poem was written by Charles Spurgeon and compiled by Geoffrey Chang in Christ Our All: Poems for the Christian Pilgrim (Brentwood, TN: B&H Academic, 2024), 24. It is reproduced at For the Church by permission of B&H Academic.

It doesn’t mean ministry is so bad, so hard, so awful that you finally give in to it. Rather, it means that God has placed a burden on your heart—so deep, so unavoidable—that you can’t give your vocational life to anything else but serving His church.

That word—burden—feels a little old-fashioned too, but it’s essential for understanding a pastor’s calling and staying in the race. Every pastor, at some point, receives a burden from God—a weight that pulls him toward vocational ministry. It’s not just a decision. It’s not just an opportunity. It’s a conviction, a compulsion, a sense that nothing else would be as faithful or as obedient to what God has put in his heart.

Most pastors I know could make more money doing something else. They could work fewer hours, have less stress, and deal with fewer challenges. And yet, they stay the course. Why? Because their heart aches for the church. Because they long to see it thrive. Because they want to be part of God’s work in a deep, meaningful way.

There’s been a lot written recently about why so many are leaving pastoral ministry. And yes, it is hard. But it’s always been hard. No one steps into this work because it’s an easy, stress-free job. We step in because we have a burden. Because God has placed in us an unshakable desire to see His church strong and healthy. Because we want to see the church reach its full potential for the glory of God.

If you want an easy job, go do something else. If you want to make money off churches without carrying their heaviest burdens, go be a church consultant or start a podcast. But brother, if God has given you a burden for His Church—if you long to see His people flourish no matter the cost—become a pastor, and stay a pastor. Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s exhausting. Even when you wonder if it’s worth it. Surrender to the burden of Christ’s bride and be faithful to that calling.

And if you do, one day, in the presence of the Lord, you’ll see the fullness of her beauty. You’ll share in the joy of Jesus as He looks upon the people you had the privilege to care for, disciple, teach, and shepherd. You’ll see how God used your faithfulness—how He took your prayers, your sermons, your tears, and your struggles, and He built something eternal.

Pastoral ministry is a heavy burden, but it is a beautiful burden. And I pray that God would lead many of His best to surrender to it—until we hear His words, “Well done.”

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/xLK93prKQO8

I have some version of this conversation at least monthly, typically when a new person or couple joins our church and is trying to make sense of our significant emphasis on prayer. Why is this the case? Why is prayer so difficult? If prayer is such a constant theme in the Scriptures from beginning to end, why do so many Christians feel like they don’t know how to pray and feel little desire to develop a praying life?

Of course, there are many folks who love prayer. They don’t just value prayer as a concept; they actually pray. Deeply. They believe it really does something. They feel intimately connected to God, and as a result, their lives are marked by a gentleness, increasing maturity, and relational quality that many of us are seeking. What do they know that we don’t?

There are many reasons why prayer doesn’t come easily for us. We’re busy people. We haven’t been trained in prayer. It’s just difficult to sit still for more than five minutes without sweating in distraction. These are all true, but I think it goes deeper than all this. Recently, an unexpected source helped me see this clearly.

Why We Really Struggle with Prayer

Ricky Gervais is a British comedian and actor best known for writing and starring in the original BBC version of The Office. Gervais’s standup comedy specials are not exactly clean, and he is an outspoken atheist. But on a recent tour, he joked about his atheism and shared his views on prayer.

“People ask me, ‘Do you pray?’ No. I don’t mind if you pray. People say, ‘I’m praying for you,’ and I say, ‘Thank you.’ But if you cancel the chemotherapy, I’ll say, ‘Don’t do that.’ Do both. Pray and do the chemotherapy. Because doing both is the same as just doing the chemo. If you’re going to do one, do the one that works.”[1]

I laughed at first. Gervais is a master of delivery. But then something settled in like a dark cloud. At the time, I had been a Christian for most of my life—one who regularly prayed at the start of every day. But as I reflected, I realized Gervais’s remarks might indeed represent my own view of prayer more than the biblical vision. (More than might; they did.) My commitment to prayer was often agnostic—as if I believed in the existence of the Divine and mentally assented to the importance of prayer but didn’t engage deeply with a personal, living God.

If you had witnessed the weakness and inconsistency of my prayers in that season of my life, you’d likely conclude that I didn’t really expect all that much out of prayer, opting instead for the things that “worked.” Following my life closely, you’d undoubtedly conclude that I relied far more on my intellect than the Holy Spirit, more on my own energies than the power of God. You’d watch every morning pass as I, functionally speaking, said a few weak prayers and then opened my eyes, laced up my Nikes, and got to work as if it all depended on me.

Or at least, that’s until a few years ago, when I began to discover the joy and power of prayer.

Rediscovering the Joy and Power of Prayer

Toward the end of 2019, I was experiencing a dangerous level of fatigue and apathy. Nothing was utterly falling apart, but I was struggling through daily life. My spiritual life was dry, and I could barely feel God’s presence and love. Our little church plant was stumbling through its infancy stage, and our three boys were wonderful and exhausting at once. I was keeping my rhythms of Scripture, prayer, and fellowship, but I felt discouraged and powerless.

I was running on the mercies and energy of the past, and I was reaching the bottom of the tank. I began crying out to God with a mixture of lament, accusation, and petition. Desperation, as it turns out, is a key ingredient in prayer.

In this wilderness season, I cried out to God in the spirit of Lamentations 2:19.

“Arise, cry out in the night,
as the watches of the night begin;
pour out your heart like water
in the presence of the Lord.” (NIV)

The Lord met me powerfully and gently in that wilderness season of pouring out my heart. I can’t say it was a sudden or explosive experience—like the ones I’ve read about in memoirs by Augustine and Blaise Pascal—and I didn’t reach the third heaven. But nonetheless, over the course of a few days, I felt swept up in the powerful mercies of God. His presence felt so real and tangible. His Word leaped off the page. I prayed for hours on end. I even gave fasting another try after years of avoiding it.

Now, let’s be clear: I have not become a prayer expert, nor have I become a super Christian. My journey is simply deepening. Said another way, I’ve come to understand these moments as personal “times of refreshing…from the Lord” (Acts 3:19–20, NIV). For the next few months, my prayer life came fully alive. I had newfound energy for life. My sweet wife, Jessie, was overjoyed that I had been lifted from my funk. My boys could notice a difference in me. In my ministry relationships, I timidly brought up my renewal to our leaders, and several of them were experiencing something similar. Something remarkable was happening.

Over the past few years, my prayer life has ebbed and flowed; many dry seasons and powerless morning quiet times have come and gone. But as I’ve pressed further into the presence of God, He has been gracious and faithful to meet me with an increased love for Him and for others. Perhaps you know this feeling well, too. Or perhaps you long for it.

These days, I’m simply asking for more—more of God’s presence, more of His Spirit’s fruit ripening in my life, more Christlikeness as I walk with Jesus. To seek more of God is not to be discontent, but rather it’s a content, sitting-on-the-Father’s-lap prayer of a weaned child, seeking to be fully engaged in God’s presence (Psalm 131).

What Prayer Does

These days, I still reflect on the comedian’s words—“don’t do prayer, do something that works”—but I’m seeking to remind myself just how much prayer really does.

What exactly does prayer do?

Prayer welcomes us into the embrace of the Father and retrains us to live from belovedness.

Prayer uncovers our fragmented lives and invites us into wholehearted living.

Prayer is the means by which God moves history toward the renewal of all things; it leads to breakthrough.

Prayer invites us to face pain and suffering with honesty and hope.

Prayer opens us to a life of celebration and thanksgiving and teaches us to praise.

Prayer connects us to other believers more deeply and the mission of God more fruitfully.

Prayer increases our experience of the Holy Spirit’s presence and power.

Prayer reorients us to eternity—the coming new creation.

In short, prayer does stuff. And I’m not the only one who’s discovered this.

Over the past few years, along with my own spiritual awakening, our church has caught a vision for prayer. We have a long way to go, but we have become a praying church. Our calendar is filled with prayer meetings, and people are praying with joy, passion, and power. We’ve seen people experience profound inner healing. We’ve seen marriages restored. Members have seen their long-time friends come to Christ and be baptized. Lives are being changed, and it’s not our music, our level of production, and (certainly not) our preaching skills. It’s prayer.

Our lives are powerless apart from prayer. Prayer is the way in which we enter the presence of God and gain access to His strength, peace, and wisdom. And the more we experience God’s presence in prayer, the more we will keep turning to Him. Prayer cultivates a hunger for God. Prayer makes us more content (we are happy with less) and hungrier for God’s presence (we want more of Him).

There are many reasons it’s hard to pray deeply. But we don’t have to be afraid that prayer doesn’t do much. Prayer is powerful because God is powerful. Prayer works because we have a loving, sovereign Father who loves to answer prayer. And He invites us to pour out our hearts to Him. Why hold back?

__________

[1] Ricky Gervais, Netflix special, “Supernature,” 2022.

Editor’s Note: For more encouragement in prayer, see Jeremy Linneman’s book Pour Out Your Heart: Discovering Joy, Strength, and Intimacy with God through Prayer, available today from B&H Publishing.

Prayer: Captain of Our Salvation, Prove[1]

Captain of our salvation, prove
The greatness of thy saving love;
Teach thou this wayward heart to know
What made thee love poor sinners so.

Was it for aught that we had done
For thee, that thy great pity came?
Or that because our helpless state
Bespoke the rebel sinner[’]s fate?

Was it for love we bore thy name
That made thee bear the cross and shame?
Or that because our sins were deep
That made thy loving heart to weep?

Lord, did our ruin bring thee down
And make thee leave thy royal crown?
To wander here, endure the grave
Our sinful souls to buy and save?

Did our condition grieve thy heart
And bring thee down to bear our smart?
Or did thy loving heart desire
To save us from eternal fire?

If such great love as this was thine
To us a mass of guilt and sin,
Let me adore thy sovereign grace;
Save me, and let me see thy face.

For further reflection: 1 Timothy 1:15–16

__________

[1] This poem was written by Charles Spurgeon and compiled by Geoffrey Chang in Christ Our All: Poems for the Christian Pilgrim (Brentwood, TN: B&H Academic, 2024), 23. It is reproduced at For the Church by permission of B&H Academic.

First, God created Adam and Eve as His image bearers on earth. God blessed them and commissioned them “to reflect, resemble, and represent his greatness and glory on a global scale.”[2] Later, God chose Abraham, sent him from his own country, and promised to bless the nations through him (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–5; 22:18). The Old Testament records how God deputized and sent many other emissaries on His behalf, people like Moses, David, and Elijah. In fact, God sent the entire people of Israel to fulfill His plan.

Israel’s God-given mission was to be a kingdom of priests and a light to the nations (Ex. 19:6; Isa. 49:6). Their mission was to display the joy and peace of living in obedience to God, and in the process, to draw the nations to worship the true and living God. Jason DeRouchie, Research Professor of Old Testament and Biblical Theology at Midwestern Seminary, writes that Israel’s mission “to the nations was centripetal,” which involved “calling others to ‘come and see.’”[3]

While Israel did not have a commission to “go” to the nations in the same way that the Church has the Great Commission, the most fervent lovers of God in the Old Testament repeatedly expressed their dissatisfaction with provincially limited praise and, therefore, longed for all nations to glorify God. For example, Psalm 67:3–4 says, “Let the peoples praise You, O God; Let all the peoples praise You. Let the nations be glad and sing for joy.” God affirms that He will fulfill their longing. In Psalm 46:10, God promises, “I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” And yet, for generations, the people of Israel turned away from God and failed to fulfill their intended mission.[4]

When the fullness of time came, God sent His Son and Spirit as the ultimate agents of mission. Andreas Köstenberger writes, “The Lord of the Scriptures is a missionary God who not only reached out and gathers the lost but also sends His servants, and particularly His beloved Son, to achieve His gracious saving purposes.”[5] The incarnation, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and enthronement of Jesus and the arrival of the Spirit form the centerpiece of history and mark the climactic events in God’s mission.

The Son’s Mission

Where other agents failed to perfectly reflect, resemble, and represent God, Jesus succeeded. Jesus fulfilled His mission by perfectly glorifying His heavenly Father through His words and works (John 17:4–5). In the greatest display of love in history, Jesus voluntarily sacrificed His life on the cross, securing redemption for all who trust in Him. Then God raised Him up from the dead and exalted Him (Acts 2:32–33; Rom. 1:4).

After His resurrection and before His ascension, Jesus said to His disciples, “As the Father has sent Me, I also send you” (John 20:21). Jesus commissioned His disciples to be agents of His mission. He said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to follow all that I commanded you; and behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:18–20).[6]

Yet Jesus instructed His disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit. He said, “I am sending the promise of My Father upon you; but you are to stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). Jesus said that when the Holy Spirit comes, “He will glorify Me” (John 16:14). Just as Jesus’s mission was to exalt the Father, the Holy Spirit’s mission is to exalt Jesus.

The Spirit’s Mission

Ten days after Christ’s ascension, God sent the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:1–4). Immediately, the Spirit went to work. He empowered the small band of believers in Jerusalem to testify to the death and resurrection of Jesus to people from all over the world (Acts 2:5–36).[7] As this band of believers quickly grew in number, they faced persecution. The believers started to spread out from Jerusalem as agents of mission, filled with the Spirit of mission, and began to “turn the world upside down” (Acts 17:6 KJV).[8]

The Spirit first saves people, then gathers His people, and then sends His people.[9] To this day, the Spirit is choosing a people for His own possession and empowering them to proclaim the excellencies of Christ (1 Pet. 2:9). Those whom the Spirit unites to the eternal Son through faith, the Father adopts as His children.[10] The three Persons of the Godhead are involved in salvation because it is a Trinitarian phenomenon. God fills His children with the Holy Spirit of Jesus, who empowers them to cry out, “Abba, Father” (Rom. 8:15). The Spirit unites the children of God to one another as brothers and sisters. The family of God, the Church, is a new community in the Spirit.

The Church’s Mission

The Baptist Faith and Message 2000 provides a definition for church. Section IV says, “A New Testament church of the Lord Jesus Christ is an autonomous local congregation of baptized believers, associated by covenant in the faith and fellowship of the gospel; observing the two ordinances of Christ, governed by His laws, exercising the gifts, rights, and privileges invested in them by His Word, and seeking to extend the gospel to the ends of the earth.”[11] It is significant that this definition includes extending the gospel to the ends of the earth as one of the church’s primary duties.[12]

Today, the Church is God’s agent of mission in the world.[13] The Spirit leads the Church to continue His mission of exalting Christ.[14] According to the pattern in Acts 13:2–4, the Holy Spirit, in response to the prayers of the Church, sets apart and sends out missionaries. The Church prays for them, ordains them, and dispatches them. Missionaries remain connected to their sending church, but they serve as envoys where no church exists.[15]

Missionaries are not merely concerned with evangelizing lost people, but also with bringing the gospel to and discipling unreached and unengaged people groups.[16]  The difference between “lost” and “unreached” is a matter of access to the gospel. Paul embodies the heart of a missionary when he says, “My aim is to preach the gospel where Christ has not been named” (Rom. 15:20). The core missionary task is to enter new contexts, preach the gospel, make disciples, establish churches, train leaders, and entrust the church to the local believers. In this way, God blesses the nations with the gospel through the Church.

__________

[1] Patrick Schreiner, The Mission of the Triune God (Wheaton: Crossway, 2022), 154.

[2] Jason DeRouchie, “By the Waters of Babylon: Global Missions from Genesis to Revelation,” Midwestern Journal of Theology 20, no. 2 (Fall 2021): 7.

[3] DeRouchie, “By the Waters of Babylon,” 12.

[4] Israel came the closest to fulfilling their mission of being a “come and see” people during the prosperous reign of Solomon. First Kings 10:24 says, “All the earth was seeking the presence of Solomon.” Yet even Solomon turned away from the LORD, failed in his mission, and left a glaring hole that only the true Messiah could fill.

[5] Andreas Köstenberger, Salvation to the Ends of the Earth: A Biblical Theology of Mission, New Studies in Biblical Theology 53 (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2020), 261.

[6] The old canard that claims that the word ‘go’ (poreuthentes) is a participle that should be translated “as you are going” is wrong. This oft-repeated falsehood undercuts the imperatival force for Christians to move across boundaries. Making disciples of all nations simply is not possible unless some people “go” to the nations. Additionally, most Greek and New Testament scholars maintain that the word “go” is a command. For example, Daniel Wallace, Senior Research Professor of New Testament Studies at Dallas Theological Seminary, identifies poreuthentes in this context as a particle of “attendant circumstance,” which means that the participle takes on the mood of the verb. In this case, the word “make disciples” (matheteusate) is a command, which means the participle should also be translated as a command. Daniel Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 640–45.

[7] Patrick Schreiner writes, “The Spirit compels boldness in speaking of Jesus. The Spirit is also always pointing back to the work of Jesus. [His] mission is always to exalt Christ.” Schreiner, The Mission of the Triune God, 152.

[8] “The Spirit is about mission, [and] the mission is to save, recreate, and reconcile a new people.” Schreiner, The Mission of the Triune God, 67.

[9] Schreiner argues that the book of Acts presents the Spirit from three perspectives, soteriological, ecclesiological, and missiological. Schreiner, The Mission of the Triune God, 67.

[10] Adoption as a motif for entrance into God’s family is unique to Paul in the NT (Rom. 8:15; 8:23; 9:4; Gal. 4:5; Eph. 1:4). John emphasizes new birth to describe a believer’s entrance into the family of God (John 1:12; 3:16; 1 John 3:1–4). John marvels at God’s work, saying, “See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, that we would be called children of God; and such we are” (1 John 3:1).

[11] The Baptist Faith and Message 2000, section IV. Available at https://bfm.sbc.net/ bfm2000/#vi.

[12] The Foundations document of the IMB elaborates on the BF&M 2000 by providing guidelines for church planting, leadership training, and statistical reporting. It also discusses 12 characteristics of a healthy church. Foundations, v. 4, IMB, 78–83. Accessed December 1, 2022.

[13] For a fuller discussion of the church and mission, see Robin Dale Hadaway, A Survey of World Missions (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2020) 53–54.

[14] “We believe God uses the local church to disciple believers, to discern their giftings and callings, to train potential cross-cultural workers in the basics of Christian evangelism and discipleship, to assess their readiness for service, and to send them out to the nations (Ephesians 3:10).” Foundations, 19.

[15] The missionary task is a group assignment. The picture of a lone missionary heroically pioneering new regions is unbiblical. Except in rare cases, Paul, the prototypical missionary, did not work alone. In his letters, Paul identifies well over 70 men and women as his ministry associates, and specifically calls many of them “coworkers.”

[16] The Foundations document clarifies the concept of unreached. It says, “Unreached peoples and places are those among whom Christ is largely unknown and the church is relatively insufficient to make Christ known in its broader population without outside help.” Foundations, 88.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/ZaiBAzGFbkw

I’m coming up on two years in pastoral ministry. Although I’ve not spent much time in pastoral ministry, I’ve come to realize something—there is importance in progress. Waiting patiently for God to do His work in His people is more important than seeing someone change overnight. Looking for a quick fix will not produce the obedience we desire in our sheep. Rather, we must trust the Lord’s plan of lifelong discipleship, knowing that He will produce obedience in the lives of our sheep.

Let me give some examples of situations we may encounter in our churches. You meet with a few men each week to discuss Scripture. Every week, the men seem to get off track as they love to tell stories about their life that have nothing to do with this passage, or they riff off one word they read. They just can’t seem to come to focus on the passage and attempt to understand what the passage means to the original audience, how Christ is connected to the passage, and what we must do in light of these things.

Perhaps week by week you meet with the same guy struggling to let go of his sin. You’re unsure if he even comprehends the severity of his sin. After months, there seems to be some progress, but you wish he’d just be done with that sin by now. If only he could defeat it.

Someone riddled with anxiety comes to your office every few months to talk. Last month they were looking for counsel because some conspiracy theory post on social media got them going. This time they are looking for counsel because they fear a fellow church member is avoiding them even though there is no evidence for this. There’s just always something wrong for this one.

These situations can cause some doubts within the pastor. Doubts come about whether your people are listening to you or not. Sometimes, you may even begin to doubt a church member’s salvation. It feels like they just don’t understand the hope we have in Christ. Maybe you begin to doubt your ability to teach or to counsel. In the end, it just doesn’t feel like these people are making any progress in the faith.

Scriptural Progress

If you’re feeling like Moses leading the Israelites in the desert, then you probably know what I’m talking about. It’s here that I’d like to remind you that a pastor practices patience because a pastor recognizes that progress is the goal of ministry. Hear these words from Paul: “I am sure of this, that he who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 1:6). Paul understood that the gospel work in our hearts is completed at Christ’s return. We too should expect that our people’s progress will not be complete until His return.

The book of 1 John is helpful for us to understand how God is working in us. 1 John 1:5–6 can be summed up by saying that God is pure light and no darkness dwells in Him; therefore, anyone who claims they have fellowship with God but walks in darkness does not walk with God. We are to understand that sin is darkness and that by participating in sin we walk in darkness. Our problem of sin causes us to remain in darkness; however, God has provided a way. Through Jesus, we are taken from the realm of darkness and into God’s glorious light. Living in the light, then, is exposing ourselves to God’s light, His purity, and His holiness. That is why 1 John 1:9 gives us the hope that by the confession of our sin—that is, the exposure of our sin—we are forgiven by the faithful and righteous God.

We can say this then, that progress in our spiritual lives is exposing ourselves to God’s light which reveals our darkness. This is our main concern when seeking the progress of the saints. Are they being made more like Christ over time? Some days will be better than others, but do they look more like Christ this year over last year? By God’s grace and work, they should. Our exposure to the knowledge of the beauty and radiance of God will produce changes in our minds that extend to changes in our hearts and work their way out through our hands. The exposure of our sin to the glory of God fuels us to grow and be more like Christ in our knowledge, affections, and actions.

Making Progress with Progress

Okay, so the goal is making progress by being more like Christ. Got it. But what does that have to do with people who are missing the point in Bible study, or that guy still struggling with that one sin, or that person who seems led by fear more than faith? Well, change takes a while. The very fact that we won’t be complete until we are in the presence of the come-again Christ is evidence that we will be consistently changing throughout our life. Change takes time.

Pastors, practice patience with your flock. You didn’t come to the place you are quickly, but the Lord had to mold you and make you into a qualified man over time. Patiently shepherd the flock for their long-term growth, not short-term. For the men that don’t get the main point of the text, be patient with them and help them see how to find it. Show them how to faithfully apply Christ to those texts. Expose them to the glory of God’s inexhaustible light in Christ through the study of Scripture. For the guy still struggling with that one sin, teach him of the delight and satisfaction found in Christ alone. Help him get his eyes focused on Christ and prepare for when distractions would call his attention away from Christ. For the person led by fear, call them to trust the Lord in a way that recognizes their fear but doesn’t allow them to continue living in it. And when a new fear arises, do the same thing again.

Eventually, those in Christ will produce fruit. Fruit production isn’t quick. The seed takes time to take root, sprout, and then grow into a fruit-bearing tree. Then we must wait for the fruit to be ready to eat. In a similar way, when we push for progress instead of complete change in a person, we are allowing the fruit to grow with best results. If we demand someone to produce fruit upon our first talking to them, then the truth we speak may not take root in them. Plant the truth that needs to be said, and let it take root in their mind, sprout in their heart, and then produce fruit from their hands. Gospel change looks to the process of being conformed to the truth, not forced into a mold. Let us be patient and witness the life-changing work of God. Let us watch as God does His work and brings His people to completion.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/DpjhiGBb-K4

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day” (Gen. 1:1–5).

Scripture’s central message is God’s salvation of humankind through the life, death, and resurrection of His Son. Scripture unveils this dazzling mystery by its unfolding proclamation of who God is and what He does. And the first of His works that it records is this: He created light.

If God gave us His Word to reveal Himself and to guide us to Him for eternal life, then what does He show us about Himself by starting off the story telling us that He created light?

He Is Supremely Powerful.

Light is the first created thing, and it obeys God immediately. In fact, its obedience is inseparable from its coming into existence. When God commands light to be, it does.

Existence follows His command. His words give reality and being, bringing to life what did not previously exist. No one else has this power.

Light’s obedience to God’s command reveals the magnitude of His authority. His command brings effect. At His command, light comes to be at a speed of 186,000 miles per second. In the first instant of history, God creates, and what He creates obeys Him, magnificently displaying His power, deity, and indisputable worthiness of all the obedience and honor in the universe.

He Marks the Bounds of History.

It’s been said that the first three days of God’s creative work could be broadly described as His creating spaces, while the last few days could be broadly described as His filling those spaces.[1]

In His first act of creation, God creates the space for time by creating light. By light’s presence and absence—day and night—He separates time from time and marks the space which history has filled, and will fill, from the first day to the last. Such governance reveals that He is eternal. Light and dark, the rising and setting of the sun, the changing of days, the passage of time—all depend on His existence before them.

He Intends to Be Known by His Creatures.

Light reveals. By it, we see everything else that God made. Moreover, many of the things that God made depend on light for their life: “plants yielding seed” and “trees bearing fruit” and the array of living creatures who depend on these for food.[2]

God’s Word says, “His invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made” (Rom. 1:20).

It is impossible for the human eye to see without light. The fact that light existed before any human eye shows God’s desire to be known. He wanted to be perceived by His image-bearers in the things that He would make. From the instant God breathed life into Adam and the man’s eyes opened upon the trees of the garden and the livestock of the fields, he was perceiving the eternal power of the One who made them all.

He Is the True Light.

As a created thing, light reveals God’s attributes. Opening the story of history as the first of God’s creations, it shines a spotlight on the One whom the whole story is about.

Jesus.

The One who brought all creation into existence and “upholds the universe by the word of His power.”[3]

The One who existed before all time.[4]

The One who reveals every one of God’s attributes, for He is God Himself, “the image of the invisible God” and “the exact imprint of His nature.”[5]

In becoming man, this Light obeyed God, His Father, perfectly.

This Light is the first and last, the center and border of history, who reigned before the beginning and whose glory will replace lamp and sun on the final Day, dissolving night and dark.[6]

This Light revealed the fullness of God’s eternal power and divine attributes in His sinless life, sacrificial death, and glorious resurrection for the salvation of sinners.

If you see Him, you see God.[7]

Created light—in all it reveals—is but a shadow of the Son.

Grace Upon Grace

“The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God….from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:9–12, 16). 

By creating light on the first day, God revealed His glory in multi-faceted brilliance to every atom of creation. His intention to be seen is good news. For, as the other five days of creation display in full color, every good thing comes from Him. If anything in creation is good, how much better must its source be? How much more sublime to know Him?

Because He is so good, He cannot accept our sin. Because He is so good, He gave His Son to atone for our sin. Though we rebelled against Him, He shone in our darkness, and into our very hearts gives “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”[8]

May we open our eyes to this Light and live.

Author’s note: I am thankful for the women of Liberty Baptist Church with whom I first enjoyed these reflections during our spring 2024 discipleship group.

__________

[1] See Jen Wilkin, “Week Three: Six Days and a Rest,” God of Creation: A Study of Genesis 1–11 (Brentwood, TN: Lifeway Press, 2017). Wilkin addresses this point in the week 3 teaching video (www.lifeway.com/godofcreation). I also heard this observation from others before I encountered it in Wilkin’s study.

[2] Gen. 1:11–12, 24–30.

[3] Heb. 1:3; cf. Col. 1:16.

[4] Jude 25.

[5] Col. 1:15; Heb. 1:3.

[6] Rev. 22:5, 13.

[7] John 14:9.

[8] 2 Cor. 4:6.

Even as a twenty-something still fresh with the excitement of my first pastoral assignment, I could relate.

Prior to ministry, you imagine that the inertia of pastoral life will drive you joyfully into deep communion with Jesus. But it doesn’t take long to realize how wrong that idealism is. 

Hebrews 2:1 tells us, “We must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.” Every Christian faces the temptation and inclination to drift.

Even—or perhaps, especially—pastors. 

Do you mainly use Scripture for preparing studies or providing answers for other people? Is prayer a routine way to open or close meetings? Are memories of passionate pursuit of Christ in the distant past? Is the sin of others more disappointing than your own sin? Do you feel like a full-time pastor but a part-time Christian? 

Questions like these can help diagnose whether your soul is adrift. 

The good news is that it’s possible to plant a church or lead a dynamic ministry without losing your soul. But it will take intentional focus and good habits. 

Now, more than 20 years into pastoral leadership, I’m more committed than ever to not losing my soul. Below are some strategies to help any pastor who wants to keep his soul.

1. Connect Regularly with God | Before you were a pastor, you were a Christian. Something about Jesus electrified you. You’d joyfully linger in His presence, amazed by His grace. This relationship you had with God made you want to serve Him even more. So keep cultivating your relationship with God—not only to be a good pastor, but to be a joyful Christian.
2. Prioritize Solitude | My favorite definition of solitude is from Cal Newport: “time spent free from the input of other minds.” In other words, if you’re alone but listening to a podcast, it’s not solitude. Solitude gives you space to relax in God’s presence and tune your heart to His grace.
3. Rigorously Practice Weekly Sabbath | The seasons where I’ve sensed the beginning of burnout or cynicism have one thing in common: a failure of practicing sabbath. Take one day a week where you rest to pray, play, and intentionally lay down any striving or performance.
4. Spend Time with Friends | In ministry, all your circles overlap. Your workplace, faith community, and friends frequently end up involving the same people. Do what you can to cultivate friendships with people who don’t need you as their pastor. It will be freeing to your soul.
5. Identify Your Personal Warning Signs and Invite Input | When the dashboard warning lights of life ding, what shows up? Though each of us is different, those who are close to us can see our warning signs. So be on the lookout for these signs of danger, and give trusted people permission to point out areas of concern.
6. Invest in Counseling | Life and leadership are filled with limits, losses, and emotional wear-and-tear. Having an experienced counselor with some distance from your ministry can help you process these challenges in a healthy way.
7. Use Every Minute of Vacation | Just like you need a weekly sabbath from ministry, you need some annual breaks and vacation. It’s not lazy to use the time you are given to rest and recalibrate.
8. Develop Healthy Pressure Release Valves | The pressure of life will come out one way or another, so intentionally decide for it to come out in good ways. Hobbies, time with friends, and exercise are healthy examples of release valves.
9. Create Sweet Personal and Family Practices for Christmas and Easter | Every Good Friday, I go with my family to a specific park to read the passion story and pray together. On a weekend of intense public ministry, it reminds me that I’m a Christian first.
10. Don’t Let Other People Decide What Is an “Emergency” | Many pastors exhaust themselves allowing everyone else to control their time and energy. But just because it’s an emergency to somebody else doesn’t mean it should be to you.
11. Regularly Practice Retreat Days | Every few months, set aside a day or half-day to zoom out, take inventory on your life and ministry, and invest in your soul. These days provide an opportunity to break the cycle of reacting and, instead, lead yourself intentionally.
12. Create a Folder of Ministry Implosion Stories | Sadly, many pastors fall. Stories of sin and scandal abound. When these stories happen, take note. When the fallen pastor writes a letter of resignation or an elder board issues a statement, copy and paste it into a file on your computer. Read these every year as a way to warn yourself of the dangers of losing your soul.
13. Develop a Plan for Intentional Sabbaticals | Sabbaticals are a long-held best-practice for long-term sustainable ministry. Done well, sabbaticals cultivate health for you, your family, and your church.
14. Structure Your Week with Margin | You can’t keep your soul if you constantly drive your engine at the red-line limit. Healthy pastors must build weekly rhythms and schedule that contain margin so that when inevitable surprises and crises come, they can handle them.
15. Put “Developing Leaders” on Your Job Description | To build a church ministry that isn’t resting on your shoulders alone, you must develop and empower other leaders. As Jethro rebuked Moses, “You and the people with you will certainly wear yourselves out, for the thing is too heavy for you. You are not able to do it alone” (Exod. 18:18). Pouring into leaders is essential for sustainable ministry.

You don’t have to lose your soul. Fight to keep it. It will be worth it.

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/2pbsl-LwT6A

These statements reflect a deeper question: Can we really approach God with confidence? Can we actually bring Him our smallest, most earthly requests? There’s a Psalm just for these questions, and the 19th-century preacher Charles Spurgeon helps us discover its riches.

How to Pray from the Heart

There are many Psalms that invite us to bring ourselves honestly and completely before God. But in my opinion, Psalm 62 is the most powerful of them all.

David opens his song with a word of praise, as he often does: “Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him” (v. 1, NIV). As soon as he praises God like this, though, David reaches the purpose of his prayer. “How long will you assault me? Would all of you throw me down—this leaning wall, this tottering fence?” (v. 3).

What a vibrant illustration of David’s situation. His enemies are after him. They’re cursing him and intending to knock him down from his royal position. He feels like a leaning wall, a broken-down fence. At any moment, he could come collapsing down.

No doubt, you’ve felt like this before. You know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed with life. Work is too much, people are demanding, and someone seems out to get you. It feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and you’re not sure if anyone can help you. Where do we go with all this pressure and fear?

David knows he can approach God with all this. It’s not too much for God. David can come directly to the Lord of Hosts with his immediate needs and urgent requests. He continues:

“Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from him.

Trust in him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge” (v. 8, emphasis added).

Here, the king vacillates between preaching to his own heart and calling Israel to trust in the Lord. “Rest in God!” he tells his own soul. “Trust in him at all times, you people!” he adds. And he speaks to us—all of us in our own desperate situations wondering if we can bring our grandest and most insignificant requests to an almighty God. David says, “Pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.” Centuries after David, Jeremiah picks up his phrase, writing, “Pour out your hearts like water in the presence of the Lord,” in calling Israel to repentance in Lamentations 2:19.

Now, this is a beautiful phrase: Pour out your hearts to God. It’s not hard to understand, but if we can fully internalize its powerful invitation, it will truly transform our prayer lives. And there’s a sure guide to help us there.

Charles Spurgeon on True Prayer

In his majestic, three-volume Treasury of David, Charles Spurgeon meditates on this phrase for no small amount of time. What does it mean to pour out our hearts? And how can we know we can do this? Spurgeon writes:

You to whom his love is revealed, reveal yourselves to him. His heart is set on you, lay bare your hearts to him. Turn the vessel of your soul upside down in his secret presence, and let your inmost thoughts, desires, sorrows, and sins be poured out like water. Hide nothing from him, for you can hide nothing. To the Lord, unburden your soul… To keep our griefs to ourselves is to hoard up wretchedness. The stream will swell and rage if you dam it up; give it a clear course, and it leaps along and creates no alarm.[1]

The Psalms are God’s way of saying, “Don’t make sure you sanitize your prayers.” You can come to God just as you are. Your prayers can’t be too honest for God; He knows what’s going on in your heart already.

Give the Lord your everything; He can handle it. We don’t have to hold it all together and clean ourselves up. We don’t have to do this life in our own strength. God wants to give us His joy, peace, and strength. And He desires to pour these gifts into us through prayer. Our job is to empty ourselves first, so that we might have ample room to receive them.

But why do the psalmist and prophet call us to pour out our hearts like water? Spurgeon reflects:

Pour [your heart] out as water. Not as milk, whose color remains. Not as wine, whose savor remains. Not as honey, whose taste remains. But as water, of which, when it is poured out, nothing remains. So let sin be poured out of the heart, that no color of it may remain in external marks, no savor in our words, no taste in our affections.[2]

David and Jeremiah (and Spurgeon) want to show us something of the nature of our prayers. Rather than a slow, careful reciting of words, our prayers can be the natural, unfiltered overflow of our hearts and minds. When we are bursting at the seams with the worries and demands of this life, God has given us a release valve. When we are full, we can pour out.

We’re not just pouring out prayers though; we’re pouring out our very hearts. Our hearts can remain largely hidden from us. We barely understand why we do what we do and why certain things just poured out of our mouths. Prayer is a way of discovering our own hearts. As we give our hearts to God in prayer, we are giving Him the core and essence of our lives. We are giving ourselves completely to Him. Spurgeon adds:

If you fear lest there remain anything in your heart not poured forth, bring the whole heart, and cast it before the eyes of the Lord, and sacrifice it to him, that he may create a new heart in thee.[3]

This is the image God has chosen to give us for our praying lives. Just pour it out. Let it flow. Don’t hold back. Spills and messes will happen, and there will be days when you feel like a puddle on the floor. But God’s welcome is simple: Pour out your heart.

God Pours Out, Too

Beautifully, there’s another side to this. When we pour out, God pours out on us, too. God’s blessing also flows like water. He is the God of abundance and overflow. As the self-existent source and replenisher of life, our Father pours out His own goodness and peace, even as we pour out our hearts like water before Him.

Sound too good to be true? Romans 5:5 promises, “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts by his Holy Spirit.”

God’s blessing being poured into us happens simultaneously to our pouring out our hearts in His presence. The weak pouring out anxiousness, confusion, and need, and the strong pouring out love, strength, and blessing in response—all like water.

Our hearts were made to be poured out. Your ever-loving Father waits for you to bring all your rants and ramblings to Him. Spurgeon concludes,

Sympathy we need, and if we unload our hearts at Jesus’ feet, we shall obtain a sympathy as practical as it is sincere, as consolatory as it is ennobling.[4]

This, Spurgeon knew, is the essence of prayer: Pour out your heart to God, and He will pour His joy, strength, and love back into you. Amen and amen.

__________

[1] Charles Spurgeon, The Treasury of David: Volume 2, 51.

[2] Spurgeon, 58.

[3] Spurgeon, 58.

[4] Spurgeon, 58.

Editor’s note: For more encouragement in prayer, see Jeremy Linneman’s forthcoming book Pour Out Your Heart: Discovering Joy, Strength, and Intimacy with God through Prayer, available this March from B&H Publishing.

In this final entry in this series, I wish to note the strategic value of pastoral hospitality for the contemporary local church. I suggest that the pastoral ministry of hospitality has excellent potential for improving the local church’s health. My argument here rests on my analysis of New Testament passages in the previous post and my personal experience as a pastor and seminary professor. I have served as the teaching pastor at The Master’s Community Church (SBC) for 25 years. I have taught New Testament and Greek at Midwestern Seminary for nearly a decade, serving as Dean of Graduate Studies for five years. From my vantage point, pastoral hospitality is strategic for enhancing the local church’s health for at least three reasons.

Pastoral Hospitality to the Needy Models God’s Benevolence and Defends the Gospel

Hospitality is love for strangers and outsiders, of whom the contemporary world is not short on supply. Wars and family crises have resulted in no small increase in the number of refugees and displaced children. A healthy local church knows that the world needs to see us caring for the vulnerable. It is hard to imagine a more at-risk demographic than children in the foster care system, many of whom await adoption. I know of no more difficult ministry. I likewise know of no ministry that more acutely objectifies God’s care for the needy and shuts the mouths of those who accuse the Church of selfishness and hypocrisy.

But orphans are not the only demographic the pastor might host. God is drawing many refugees in the United States to Himself, and pastors have the unique position to disciple and train them for church planting. One of the most invigorating ministries my church and Midwestern Seminary students have engaged in over the last three years has been with Afghan refugees who have been placed in Kansas City. We have cooperated to serve these families in job placement, language learning, medical assistance, driving lessons, and the gospel. Some of the families were believers when they arrived. I have had the great joy of hosting them and being in their homes for ministry planning and leadership development.

Pastoral Hospitality Cultivates Fellowship and Leadership Development

One metric for gauging a local church’s health is how diverse demographics in the church interact with one another. When my wife and I host, I try to gather people who are not naturally connected. I invite new attendees or church members to join us and include more seasoned members in the invitation. If we are hosting students, I ask non-students, even retirees, to join us as well. Pastoral hospitality creates a natural structure for Paul’s directive that older believers should teach younger ones and younger ones should learn from those more mature in the faith (Titus 2:1–5). I hope never to forget when I was hosting an age-diverse small group and overheard an older couple offer to rent a large home and property at a very reduced price to a younger couple so the young couple could leave their small apartment and begin doing foster care ministry, or when a retiree shared over brunch how a younger couple could participate in the children’s ministry of our church.

Pastoral hospitality also provides a relational environment to develop leaders for ministry. This was true for me. A pastor asked my wife and me to join him and his wife for dinner one cold January evening in 1997. While I was employed as an elementary teacher in a local school, my evenings and weekends were busy with church ministry, leading a small group and a Sunday School class. We had just sat down to dinner when the pastor asked if I had ever sensed a call to pastoral ministry. When we got up to leave, my life had changed. I have used that same practice of asking deeper-level, calling kinds of questions while my wife and I host potential leaders and students, casting vision for ministry as the conversation unfolds.

Pastoral Hospitality Allows the Pastor to Model Christian Family Life and Family Worship

Authenticity is a buzzword in contemporary ministry. Church health is displayed by gospel authenticity in relationships. When pastors are hospitable, people see God’s glory in the everyday stuff of our lives. If people are in my home long enough, usually not very long, they will see foibles and failures and hear apologies. At some point, they will see a husband loving his wife like Christ does the Church and a wife submitting to her husband as the Church does to Christ. They will see parents training their children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. They will hear issues of the day discussed from a Christian worldview.

As we serve dessert, guests will be invited to join us as we read Scripture, pray, and sing. I have found that most men in my church and students in my classes do not learn how to lead family worship by reading books about it but by seeing me lead my family as we enjoy brownie sundaes and coffee. When meeting with that man individually after having his family in my home, I can follow up and fill in the gaps.

Pastoral Hospitality as Preventive Medicine

People will often ask me, “How’s your church?” After 25 years of serving in the same congregation, one would think that I could have a better answer. “I hope things are going well…” I often quip. Truth is, even the most hospitable and relational pastor knows only a portion of what God is doing in his flock. And those who have been in ministry for a season or two know how rapidly a church can change. God allows cancer, sin, economic pressures, and a host of other situations upon His people, and pastors are called to guide God’s people through them. Pastoral hospitality deepens relational roots so that when storms come upon the flock, the needy and vulnerable sheep will have every reason to heed the voice of their undershepherds. The devil prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking to devour weak sheep (1 Pet. 5:8). Pastoral hospitality establishes relational structures that prevent the devil from succeeding.

I suggested in the first entry in this series that a covenantal framework can be identified in the Lord’s hospitality in Exodus 24. Though Jesus’s hospitality to the eleven in John 21 does not have the same covenantal framework, in both passages, God effectively hosts a select figure to train him for ministry leadership: Moses for Israel and Peter for the apostles.

In the second entry, I noted that hospitality is a ministry of all kinds of leaders in Scripture. And they undertake this ministry with urgency. Abraham (Gen. 19), David (2 Sam. 9), and the public official Publius of Malta (Acts 28:1–10) extend hospitality with respect to their leadership positions.

In this third entry, I want to explore Paul’s statement that pastors must be hospitable. In the local church, pastoral hospitality reflects God’s care for the needy and establishes an environment for supplying and training ministry leaders. The qualifications for pastoral leadership express a man’s relational aptitude for leading a local church. Whether we consider the list Paul writes in 1 Timothy 3:1–7 or Titus 1:5–9, each quality more or less has in view a man’s ability to reflect God’s character as he relates with people inside and outside the church.

The pastor must reflect God in his closest relationships. He must husband his wife (1 Tim. 3:2; Titus 1:6a) and manage his household well (1 Tim. 3:4–5; Titus 1:6b). The pastor must also display God’s character in the more extended relationships of his life. He must be hospitable, a lover of strangers and outsiders (1 Tim. 3:2; Titus 1:8).

When studying the pastoral qualifications listed in 1 Timothy 3:1–7 or Titus 1:5–9, we must recognize two ways they might become fodder for eisegesis. First, we must remember that no one pastoral qualification functions in isolation. Relational aptitude functions as the hub into which these qualities fit as spokes. In aggregate, these features of a man’s life position him to reflect God as he leads the church. Second, the lists of qualifications should not be isolated from Paul’s flow of thought in 1 Timothy and Titus. These qualifications for pastors contribute to Paul’s broader portrait of beliefs and behaviors the church must embrace in light of Jesus’s death, resurrection, ascension, and promised return. These qualifications signify the pastor’s character in relation to God and the ministry of the new covenant.

Having identified the conceptual framework of these pastoral qualifications and pitfalls to avoid when interpreting them, we can consider Paul’s statement that the pastor must be hospitable. I identify two reasons why Paul lists hospitality as a qualification for pastoral ministry.

Hospitality Enacts God’s Care to the Needy

In Titus, Paul repeatedly notes the importance of good works. The opponents of the gospel lack good works (1:16). Titus is to be an example of good works (2:7). Believers are to reflect their redemption by being eager to do good works (2:14), ready to do good works in the public sphere as they relate to governing authorities (3:1). Believers are to be careful to devote themselves to good works (3:8). Paul concludes the letter saying, “Let our people learn to devote themselves to good works for pressing needs, so that they will not be unfruitful” (Titus 3:14, CSB).

The good works Paul has in mind would doubtless include caring for one’s own needy family, especially widows (1 Tim. 5:3–16). If a believing widow has no family and finds herself without the means for independent living, to whom might she look for assistance? A pastor’s hospitality and leadership would prove invaluable. Paul’s concern in 1 Timothy 5:3–16 that widows be taken care of reflects God’s demand that His people care for the widow and orphan, stated throughout the Old Testament (e.g., Deut. 24:10–22; Ps. 68:4–6; Jer. 7:3–8) and in James 1:27.

Hospitality is Necessary for Multiplying Ministry Leadership

Hospitality in the local church features prominently in 2 and 3 John. Believers show their faith by welcoming into their homes brothers and sisters who confess Christ, to refresh them and share in their ministries (2 John 9–11; 3 John 5–8). In 3 John 9–10, John condemns Diotrephes for refusing to be hospitable and forbidding believers to host ministers as they travel. Pastors who welcome those who go out to spread the gospel of Jesus’s death and resurrection have the dual effect of meeting the immediate needs of those ministers and modeling hospitality for the church. It may be this kind of ministry that Jesus has in view when He describes hospitality as the fulcrum of judgment in the analogy of the sheep and the goats (Matt. 25:31–46).

I noted that pastoral hospitality should not be understood in isolation from Paul’s broader portrait of ministry in the Pastoral Epistles. One pastoral task Paul notes repeatedly is training leaders who will join in and carry out new covenant ministry. Timothy is to labor in training those who will lead the church (1 Tim. 4:11–16). He is to deal with church elders justly, patiently affirming them to the pastoral office (1 Tim. 5:17–22). Paul tells Timothy in 2 Timothy 2:2, “What you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, commit to faithful men who will be able to teach others also.” One unique feature of pastoral hospitality is that it provides a relational atmosphere for training those who will join in ministry leadership. Pastoral hospitality thus reflects the Lord’s hospitality to Moses and Israel’s leaders in Exodus 24 and Jesus’s hospitality to Peter and the disciples in John 21.

Hope for Those Hesitant to Host

We should recognize that pastors are not the only church members who strengthen the church through hospitality. Paul urges the Romans to pursue hospitality (Rom. 12:13), and Peter commands the churches in view in 1 Peter to be hospitable without complaining (1 Pet. 4:9).

While the lists of qualifications in 1 Timothy 3:1–7 and Titus 1:5–9 filter those who are not called, they also guide men who are. And every man called to shepherd God’s people is growing on a spectrum of consistency in these characteristics. If you need to grow in hospitality, I first suggest lowering your expectations regarding the formal details of the event itself. The meal and setting need not be extravagant. Simple, moderate food, drink, and environment foster the best atmosphere for pastoral hospitality. Second, develop a specific prayer list for those you want to host. Who around you is needy? Who in your sphere of influence does God seem to be calling to leadership? Pray for them daily for a week and then make the invite. God will give you courage and prepare them to hear from you. Finally, chat with other leaders about your need to grow as a host. Heed their counsel on how to be a hospitable man, not just a meal or event host. Let them prune away selfishness and broaden your love for God and the Church.

In the first post in this series, I noted that God is hospitable. The Lord’s hospitality to Moses and Israel’s leaders in Exodus 24 stops careful readers in their tracks. What a God! He is holy but personal. And Jesus’s hospitality to Peter and the disciples on the shore of Galilee humbles us. So kind is the resurrected Son. God reveals Himself as a host in these two scenes and many other places in Scripture.

Hospitality is also a human activity in Scripture, especially for leaders. Here, I want to draw attention to one quality that surfaces consistently in scenes where leaders show hospitality in Scripture: urgency. I will trace this theme in three instances.

Abraham’s Hasty Hospitality Toward His Three Guests (Gen. 18)

Abraham’s hospitality to the three men who visited him in Genesis 18 contributes more broadly to the storyline of Genesis and Scripture. First, these visitors confirm God’s covenant promise to Abraham. What God promised Abraham in Genesis 12:1–3 and 15:1–6 (cf. Rom. 4:18–21) had not yet been realized. Abraham and Sarah were aged. As Abraham hosted these men, the Lord spoke to Abraham and announced that the time for him and Sarah to have a son had now arrived. Within one year, Sarah would give birth to a son (18:10). This was beyond belief for Sarah. She laughed. She wondered if she could have the delight of a child when Abraham, her lord, was old. Furthermore, in Sarah’s statement, Peter saw a title that all Christian women should apply to their husbands (1 Pet. 3:6).

These two pillars of biblical theology are rooted in Abraham’s prompt hospitality to the three visitors. When Abraham first saw them, he hastened to greet them and offer food and drink to refresh them after their travels (18:1–5). When they agreed to stay, “Abraham hurried into the tent and said to Sarah, ‘Quick! Knead three measures of fine flour and make bread’” (v. 6, CSB).

David’s Determined Hospitality Toward Mephibosheth (2 Sam. 9)

The Lord’s covenant with David in 2 Samuel 7 casts a long shadow over redemptive history. The promise that an heir of David will sit on David’s throne and rule over Israel is realized once and for all in Jesus, God’s eternal Son (Luke 1:32–33; Heb. 1:5). Even in the near context of 2 Samuel 8–10, scene after scene demonstrates that the Lord has indeed established David as ruling king over His people.

In 2 Samuel 8–10, David is victorious in all directions. David’s military successes immediately confirm God’s covenant with him. Sandwiched between these chapters is the account of David’s hospitality to Mephibosheth. David’s hospitality fulfills his covenant obligation to Jonathan, Saul’s son. In 1 Samuel 20:11–17, David entered a covenant with Jonathan to watch over Jonathan’s household should David outlive him. Jonathan knew that David was the Lord’s anointed. Now that David was established as king over Israel and Judah, he was determined to fulfill his covenant with Jonathan.

He was so determined that he expanded that covenant to include not only Jonathan but any of Saul’s household (2 Sam. 9:1). When Saul’s servant Ziba reported that there was a son of Jonathan yet living, David was immediately determined to bring him to Jerusalem (v. 5). David restored land to Mephibosheth and appointed Saul’s servant Ziba to manage it for him. “So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table just like one of the king’s sons” (v. 11).

Publius of Malta’s Public Hospitality Toward Paul and the Shipwrecked Prisoners (Acts 28:1–10)

Acts 27 is one of the longest chapters in Acts. And it is entirely about a sea voyage and a shipwreck. The boat carrying Paul and his fellow prisoners to Rome ran aground at Malta, breaking into pieces. The crew and prisoners made it to shore, and the people of Malta welcomed them. Paul gathered wood, and when he placed it on the fire, a viper came out and bit his hand. The people of Malta knew Paul was a prisoner and surmised that the god of Justice was paying Paul back for his crimes. When Paul shook the viper off and it was consumed in the fire, they thought Paul was a god (Acts 28:1–6).

All of this precipitated a local official, Publius, to promptly extend hospitality to Paul and company. For three days, Publius entertained the shipwrecked mates. Publius may have been curious about this crew of prisoners and soldiers or Paul and the viper. Or, Publius could have been just doing what civic leaders should do in offering hospitality to Roman guards while they were transporting prisoners. But God had plans to glorify Himself by blessing Publius in his hospitality. During these three days, “Publius’s father was in bed suffering from fever and dysentery. Paul went to him, and praying and laying his hands on him, he healed him” (v. 8). Then many who were ill on the island, under Publius’s jurisdiction, came to Paul and were healed (v. 9). The people of the isle heaped honors on Paul and crew, sending them off with supplies for the journey to Rome (v. 10).

Hospitality and the Supremacy of God

I have chosen to note three scenes of urgent hospitality in Scripture. More are on offer but these give a sense of the general tenor of hospitality that leaders extend to those around them. And they do so with a sense of gusto.

Good leaders know that they are no more effective than the relationships and partnerships they maintain at any moment during the tenure of their position. Hospitality provides leaders the opportunity to evaluate, gain, and maintain relationships to secure and strengthen their positions. Godly leaders see the Lord as the arbiter of their office, and they host to express His character and participate in His redemptive purposes.

One subgroup of leaders, elders in the local church, must be hospitable, as Paul writes in 1 Timothy 3:3 and Titus 1:8. In the next post, I will describe how pastoral hospitality makes sense as a qualification for men called to lead a local church.

From January to March, you’ll have the opportunity to hear from Midwestern Seminary professors about their areas of expertise, and ask them any questions you want! Completely online and FREE, you can sign up for any and all FTC Talks below to reserve your spot. We hope these conversations will spur you on in your service to the local church and help you connect with even more ministry leaders and friends across the country. We’ll see you soon!

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/uqi9ySU6Sxo

From Genesis to Revelation, God reveals Himself to be a host. The Garden of Eden can be viewed as God’s creative activity to host Adam and Eve as His vice-regents who manage the banquet hall of creation. God hosts Israel for 40 years, providing food for the duration of their wilderness wandering (Exod. 16). Isaiah prophesies that the mountain of God will be an end-times banquet hall where the Lord of hosts will prepare a feast to celebrate death’s defeat (Isa. 25:6­–8). The final scenes of John’s vision in Revelation include the Marriage Feast of the Lamb (Rev. 19:6–10).

In most instances, the Lord’s hospitality in the Old Testament had Israel in view. One such occasion is reported as part of the covenant ceremony Moses enacted for Israel in Exodus 24.

In the first entry in this series, I want to note how the Lord’s hospitality to Israel’s leaders in Exodus 24 contributes to Moses’s covenant ceremony. I will then note points of contact with Jesus’s hospitality to the eleven after His resurrection, suggesting ways that Jesus’s seaside hospitality contributes to His dialogue with Peter and new covenant ministry.

After establishing the covenantal framework of divine hospitality, in successive entries, I will observe how hospitality is a task leaders in Scripture undertake with great haste and how it qualifies men for pastoral ministry in the local church. I will conclude with a fourth post demonstrating how hospitality contributes to church health.

The Lord’s Hospitality to Israel’s Leaders

Among the Lord’s personal manifestations in the Old Testament, His invitation to Israel’s leaders in Exodus 24 casts a long shadow. This scene serves as a pivot point in a unit that begins with the Lord’s appearance on Sinai in Exodus 19 and culminates with Moses descending the mountain with the stone tablets at the end of Exodus 31. In Exodus 19, the Lord commanded Moses to have the people stand at a distance as He descended upon the mountain and covered it with smoke, fire, lightning, and thunder. These visible manifestations confirm Moses’s words to the people. The Lord was with them and had instructed them through His servant Moses.

The frightening appearance of the Lord on Sinai in Exodus 19 establishes two features of the Mosaic covenant. First, the Lord is holy, and His people must revere Him. In the immediate context, this included keeping themselves at a safe physical distance (Exod. 19:9–13, 19–25). Second, the Lord chose Moses as His spokesman, and the people must heed Moses’s instructions (Exod. 19:7–10; 20:18–21).

These two themes place in bold the Lord’s invitation for Moses and Israel’s leaders to join Him on the mountain for a meal in Exodus 24. The covenant ceremony Moses led in Exodus 24 began with his instruction to the people and their pledge of obedience (v. 3). After writing the Lord’s instructions for the people (v. 4), Moses sent young men to sacrifice bulls for burnt offerings and fellowship offerings (v. 5). Moses took the scroll he had written and read it to the people, sprinkling them with the blood of the bulls that had been sacrificed (vv. 7–8). Moses’s leadership in Exodus 24 directly fulfills the Lord’s intentions for Moses described in Exodus 19 and 20. Moses was the Lord’s authoritative spokesman.

And the Lord wanted to host Moses and Israel’s leaders on the mountain. In obedience to the Lord’s invitation in Exodus 24:1–2, Moses led Aaron, Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu, and Israel’s 70 elders up the mountain (v. 9). They saw the Lord but were not consumed, eating in the presence of the Lord (vv. 10–11)! From the moment the Lord descended on the mountain in Exodus 19 to this point in the narrative, the Lord had demanded that Israel stay away from Him lest His holy presence consume them. But now, in Exodus 24, He hosted Moses and Israel’s leaders in near proximity, disclosing Himself to them as they ate. Moses and Joshua then proceeded up the mountain, and Moses stayed in the Lord’s presence for 40 days and nights. (vv. 13–18).

The Lord hosted Moses on Mount Sinai to establish Moses as His authoritative spokesman, the one He chose to mediate His instruction to Israel. Having hosted Moses to prepare him for leadership, the Lord sent Moses down the mountain with the stone tablets (Exod. 31:18).

Jesus’s Hospitality to the Eleven after His Resurrection

The Gospel of John is not short on drama, and the final chapter does not disappoint. It all begins with Peter leading the disciples on a fishing expedition (John 21:3). But they caught nothing. In the morning, Jesus called to them from the shore. Two of Jesus’s statements informed the eleven about who was calling to them. First, Jesus was aware that they had caught nothing. Second, He told them to try the other side of the boat, and they would have a full catch (vv. 5–6). After the eleven did so and saw many fish in the net, Peter recognized that the resurrected Lord Jesus was speaking to them from the shore! In high drama, Peter disrobed and swam to Jesus as the other disciples followed in the boat (vv. 7–8).

Jesus was prepared to host Peter and the other disciples. Already, He had fish cooking over the fire (v. 9). Peter dragged the full net to the shore, and they added some of the day’s catch to what Jesus had on the fire. The eleven were in the presence of the risen Lord Jesus. He was hosting them for brunch, and John writes, “This was now the third time Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead” (v. 14, CSB).

Jesus’s hospitality to the eleven, framed by Peter’s robust pursuit of the Lord, becomes the setting where Jesus restored Peter to ministry. In vv. 15–19, Jesus asked Peter three times if he loved Him, challenging Peter to embrace his leadership role despite the suffering that would come with it.

Though Jesus’s hospitality to the eleven in John 21 lacks the formal language of the covenant ceremony Moses enacted in Exodus 24, points of contact remain. In both scenes, divine hospitality is extended to human leaders to equip them for their ministries in God’s redemptive program.

This conclusion will frame my third post, where I will look at the pastoral qualification that elders must be hospitable (1 Tim. 3:2; Titus 1:8). In my next post, however, I will highlight a key characteristic of biblical hospitality: urgency.

Responding in Worship and Work

But before wrapping up here, let’s consider: How should we respond to the thought of God hosting us? This is a gospel fact that compels our response in two ways.

First, let us worship God for His kindness in inviting us into His presence and serving us. How do you picture Jesus’s face as He, the eternal Son, taking up human flesh, showed Peter and the eleven the fish He already had cooking over the fire? See that smile? Worship Him!

Second, let us get to work. God has gifted His people with abilities, and if you are reading this blog, He has likely given you abilities to lead the church. Do you love Jesus? Feed His sheep.

In the midst of the 2008 Global Financial Crisis, Warren Buffet famously observed, “It’s when the tide goes out that you see who’s skinny dipping.” Buffet was reflecting on the banks and investment firms that had insufficient capital to meet their financial obligations during the great recession.

Buffet’s observation applies to the ministry as well. When you stand before God’s people with Bible in hand, the tide goes out. It is in those moments, when you attempt to speak on behalf of God, that all will see the veracity of your calling.

For pastors, preaching and teaching God’s Word has a way of stripping us all bare; it exposes us and puts our gifting on public display. You can’t finesse your way through a sermon with polished appearance, warm people skills, or seminary credentials alone. In the moment of truth, your ability—or lack thereof—to teach and preach God’s Word reveals much about your calling.

This is the way it should be because the one called to the ministry is called to a ministry of the Word. God sets him apart to teach and preach His Word. This clarifying stipulation both challenges and reassures us. Those whom God has truly called; he has truly gifted for the task. Every pastor must be gifted to teach the Word; and every qualified pastor is.

“Able to Teach”

In I Timothy 3:1-7, the ability to teach is the distinguishing mark between the elder and the deacon. Both are expected to be godly, but only the office of elder requires an ability to teach. There are a thousand ways a minister can serve the church, but he has one indispensable and nonnegotiable responsibility—to preach and teach the Word of God.

Since the pastor’s primary duty is to preach and teach God’s word, he who would hold the office must be equal to the task. Literally, lives are at stake. The health of the church rises or falls with the pulpit.

Preaching includes teaching, but teaching may or may not include preaching. Both convey biblical truth, but the latter includes public proclamation—heralding the truth of Scripture to the gathered congregation.

Preaching and teaching are not distinct categories, but rather distinct venues or distinct outlets. As a wise professor once told me, “Preaching should never be anything less than teaching the Bible, but it should always be more than a Bible study.”

It is interesting that the “ability to teach” is the only qualification related to the pastor’s gifting or ability. I’m struck by what God left out of this list. In addition to sterling character, the would-be pastor isn’t required to be a gifted leader, a competent manager, a creative genius, or possess a magnetic personality—all of which come in handy in ministry. There is one gift, and only one gift, the pastor must possess. He must be able to teach.

Why Preaching?

Preaching is God’s divinely ordained means of communicating his Word, of nourishing his church, and of redeeming a people for himself. Other ministerial activities may compliment preaching, but no ministerial activity should displace preaching.

As Spurgeon warned:

“I do not look for any other means of converting men beyond the simple preaching of the gospel and the opening of men’s ears to hear it. The moment the church of God shall despise the pulpit, God will despise her. It has been through the ministry that the Lord has always been pleased to revive and bless his churches.”[1]

God only had one Son, and he made him a preacher. Scripture tells us, “Jesus came preaching,” and then he sent his disciples out to preach.[2] From the prophets of old, to Pentecost, to the end of the age, preaching is God’s appointed means to convey his message.

“Preach the Word,” a Simple Command

Every preacher can readily identify with the Apostle Paul’s binding charge to Timothy, “Preach the Word.” This charge is situated at the end of Paul’s final letter to his son in the faith, Timothy, and it encapsulates the broader biblical expectation that ministers faithfully discharge their responsibilities of faithfully preaching and teaching the Word.

As Paul is writing II Timothy, he knows his death is near. Christians are being persecuted. False prophets are plaguing the church. Many who named Christ as Savior have fallen away. Timothy himself is vacillating in the faith and questioning his call. Paul is writing his final letter, as the dying words of a dying man, to a distressed church and a discouraged son.

In this salutary charge, he tells Timothy, “Preach the Word.” This exhortation occurs—explicitly and implicitly—throughout Scripture, but nowhere more conspicuously than here.  And it appears with added momentum, because of its context in this book, and in the lives of Paul, Timothy, and the church. There is a degree of narrowing earnestness, of focused deliberateness from Paul to Timothy, to us.

In II Timothy 3, Paul documents the catastrophic affects of man’s sinfulness, and presents the ministerial antidote—preaching God’s Word—which is inspired, inerrant, authoritative, and sufficient. We are called to “Preach the Word” because the days are evil, and the Scriptures are powerful. For preachers, II Timothy 4:2 has a certain romance to it—a magnetic pull, calling us back again and again and again to our central responsibility.

The call to preach—in light of so many problems in the society and the church—appears simplistic, but those are God’s instructions. To preach means “to herald, to lift up one’s voice, to proclaim.” It is to speak boldly, even loudly, without fear, and to make truth known.

Again, there is simplicity in Paul’s charge, “Preach the Word” There is a beautiful simplicity, an unmistakable clarity to this instruction. There is no need to clarify which word, or whose word.  Rather, we are called to preach the Word—God’s Word. In fact, the premise of preaching the Word is built upon the entire canon of Scripture, and it roars throughout this book.

If you are not convinced of Scripture—its truthfulness, authority, relevance, and power—then you will be disinclined to preach the Word. You may look to it for sermon points because that is what evangelical preachers are to do, but you’ll never let the Word be the point and points of your sermon.

Essential Ingredients of Preaching and Teaching

While a quick wit, booming voice, and strong self-presentation are helpful elements, the key ingredients of faithful preaching should be preset. Faithful preaching has two essential ingredients, and he that is called to preach should cultivate both.

These two components are study of the Word and proclamation of the Word. To emphasize either to the de-emphasis of the other is error. Here we must maintain intentional balance.

Some more naturally enjoy the process of preparing sermons. They enjoy digging into the text of Scripture, rightly interpreting it, constructing an exegetical outline and stitching together a sermon. This is good, and no one should enter ministry without intending to delve into the text.

Others more naturally enjoy presentation. The act of preaching itself animates them. They enjoy delivering the goods to God’s people. Great preachers excel at both, and you should cultivate both strengths in your own ministry.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones famously observed that preaching is “the highest, the greatest, and the most glorious calling to which one can ever be called.”[3] In fact, it is too high and too glorious of a calling for just anyone to preach just anything for just any reason in just any way.

Like any other ability, teaching and preaching God’s Word is an acquired skill. Gifted by the Spirit of God, yes. But practice makes perfect, and it might take quite some time to clarify your gifting to preach. Don’t expect to sound like a veteran preacher your first time in the pulpit. In fact, you may not ever become an accomplished preacher.

Seminaries can grant a degree and churches can hire a pastor, but only God can make a preacher. Preaching is to be done by a man, called of God, who is compelled to herald the Bible with full conviction and faithful interpretation. The Bible details many character expectations of the pastor, but there is only one gift he must have—he must be able to preach and teach the Word of God.

—

[1] C. H. Spurgeon, Autobiography, Volume 1: The Early Years (London: Banner of Truth, 1962), v.

[2] Mark 1:14; Matthew 28:16-20.

[3] Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1972), 9.

Originally published at JasonKAllen.com

1 Timothy 3:1 “The saying is trustworthy: if anyone aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a noble task.”

God has used few men more in my life than “The Doctor,” Martyn Lloyd-Jones. If you’re not familiar with MLJ let me encourage you to familiarize yourself with him. He was a pastor who loved the Bible and believed in preaching. I have been shaped by him in countless ways. But, as anyone who is familiar with the Doctor knows, Lloyd-Jones could be quite opinionated. Some would say he was too opinionated. However, because of his love for the Word and his grit, his rare disagreements don’t bother me much. It does not distract me because I am driven to the Word to find answers. Let me explain.

Recently, as I was re-reading his book Preaching and Preachers, I came across one of his famous quotes on the call of preaching. He says “The work of preaching is the highest and greatest and more glorious calling with which anyone can ever be called.”  The first time I read that quote I loved it! In a world that devalues preaching, here was a prophetic voice calling us back to the Biblical priority. As I reread that sentence, I started to disagree with him a bit. The calling to preach is a great calling. For a man to be qualified to preach it requires that he be a certain kind of man. The preacher has a few prerequisite callings. As best as I can tell, God calls the pastor to great and noble callings that are higher and greater and more glorious than the work of preaching.

I have four callings that come before my calling to preach. God clearly says that the task of pastoring is noble. It would be right, then, for us to assign greater nobility to the tasks that are prerequisites for that great calling. What are these greater and more noble callings?

1. God has called me to sonship. God saved me when I was a little boy and I have been walking with him ever since. He has been so gracious to me. I never want to lose my first love. Paul calls Timothy a man of God in 1 Tim 6:11 and that is what every pastor must be. Before I am anything else, I am a man who has been saved and sustained by the God of the gospel. My identity must be rooted deep in the truth that I belong to God. Too many pastors have “pastor faith” and not childlike faith. A pastor is a Christian growing in Christlike humility. This is my first and greatest calling!

2. God has called me to the noble task of husbandry. It’s true that not every pastor is married. Most, however, are. Two becoming one flesh is in fact a profound mystery. As Eph. 5:32 says, “And I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.” Marriage is a prerequisite calling because it is a demonstration of sort, of the message the qualified pastor preaches. If a pastor cannot love his bride well he will not love Christ’s bride well.

3. God has called me to fatherhood. Being a good father requires that I learn fatherhood from God. It is a great privilege to have God not only as the sovereign God of the universe but as our sovereign Father. The pastor doesn’t learn about God from looking to his own love for his kids. Rather, the pastor learns what good fatherhood is by looking to God the Father. 1 Tim. 3:4 makes it clear, the pastor who fails at home does not get to preach. The fatherhood of God and the fatherhood of our own children are the training ground for becoming a father to the flock.

4. God has called me to friendship. Anyone who aspires to the calling of Christian friendship aspires a noble task. Jesus was a good friend. It was he who said in John 15:13 “Greater loves has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” Almost everyone has met the professional “pastor.” You know the type. He is always around but no one seems to know him. He is really good at helping people build structures but really bad at making friends. It is impossible to “shepherd the flock of God that is among you” (1 Peter 5:2) without being friends with the flock. It is impossible to be held accountable at the heart level by surface-level business associates and elders. Failure at Christian friendship is the failure of pastoral ministry.

After these callings of greater nobility comes the calling of pastor. The pastor must fight the urge to confuse the first calling and the fifth calling. The title “pastor” can easily become the primary calling in which the called man finds his identity. That is a recipe for disaster. What would happen if something were to happen to your vocal chords and you never get to preach again? If your identity is in the right place, you would be fine. Oh yes, being a pastor and preaching the Bible is a high, great, and glorious call. But, it is not the highest, greatest, and glorious call of all.

From January to March, you’ll have the opportunity to hear from Midwestern Seminary professors about their areas of expertise, and ask them any questions you want! Completely online and FREE, you can sign up for any and all FTC Talks below to reserve your spot. We hope these conversations will spur you on in your service to the local church and help you connect with even more ministry leaders and friends across the country. We’ll see you soon!

Watch the video here: https://youtu.be/7lI7I5bwt2k

When getting to know someone, it’s common to ask: So what do you do? We’ve all been asked this question when being introduced to someone at a social gathering or when sitting next to a stranger on an airplane. Most often, it’s an implicit inquiry about your career or lifestyle. In response, you’re expected to say something like: “I’m a stay-at-home mom” or “I’m a marketing consultant.”

More than simple curiosity, though, this familiar question reveals that, for most of us, what we do tends to define our sense of who we are. To get to know a person, you must learn about what they do. Our career, lifestyle, ambitions, or relationships are our way of saying to the world, “I matter! I’m significant! I’m consequential!” And that’s not entirely wrongheaded; after all, it’s not a bad thing to derive an appropriate level of meaning and fulfillment from the things we do.

But without a strong sense of our true identity we are setting ourselves up for discouragement. For instance, the stay-at-home mom becomes disheartened when one of her kids enters a difficult stage. As her parenting attempts fall short, she begins to wonder, “Am I a total failure?” Her identity hangs in the balance of that question. Or what about when the marketing consultant is asked to resign because his firm is “taking things in a different direction?” What then becomes of his identity?

Such questions, though painful, have a way of leading us back to the knowledge of who we are in Christ. In Him, we find that being a marketing consultant or a stay-at-home mom are actually callings, not identities. A calling is something you fulfill through words and actions for a greater purpose. An identity, on the other hand, is strictly based on God’s words and actions—what He says about you and what Hehas done to make you His beloved child. Your identity therefore is true of you all the way down to the deepest level of your being. If all else were stripped away—your career, your earthly relationships, your plans—your identity as a beloved child of God would still remain. Unlike our callings, which are temporary, our identity in Christ is eternally fixed and irrevocable.

And yet, our identity is nonetheless inextricably linked to our callings. Through our identity in Christ, God sources our callings with His love for the purpose of expressing that love to others. This is why Paul told the Ephesians that in the various areas of their lives they were to imitate God “as beloved children” (Eph. 5:1, quoted above). Notice that believers are not told to imitate God as parents, employees, or whatever calling they may receive. Paul will allow these aspects of life to come to the foreground later (Eph. 6:1-9), but not until he has first hammered home the reality of our identity. Why? Because we cannot fulfill our callings as God desires until our hearts are fully integrated under the reality of who are in Christ.

So let’s be clear: we are to imitate God throughour callings as beloved children. For this to occur, we must develop a functional understanding of what it means to be a “beloved child.” This type of knowledge operates “under the hood” of our life; it is subconscious and reflexive, requiring a “re-wiring” of our inner life. And developing it can take a lifetime.

There is no magic formula or silver bullet to instantaneously transform our self-perception and our knowledge of God. Sure, there are encouraging moments along the way where things really “click” for us, but most of the time God transforms us gradually through the slow, ordinary, patient work of the Christian life: searching the Scriptures, abiding in prayer, silence and solitude, serving and giving, worshiping with our church family, and the like. To be clear, such work does not in any way secure our identity, for life in Christ is a free gift of God (Rom. 6:23). However, how our identity gets worked out in our day-to-day lives is, in many ways, a matter of us devoting ourselves to the right practices. This is critical for how we operate in our callings.

Therapist Edwin Friedman says that, in order for people to thrive as parents or employees, they must “focus first on their own integrity and on the nature of their presence rather than on techniques.”So often we seek to fulfill our callings by focusing almost exclusively on techniques. Parents comb through books to find the best techniques for motivating their children to behave; employees consult with industry experts to find ways to become indispensable in their field. And such things can certainly be useful.

However, the key to thriving in our callings is ultimately found in our identity as beloved children of God, not in whatever life-hacks and techniques happen to be trending. When our hearts are integrated under the reality of who we are in Christ, when God’s love develops in us an “under the hood,” functional understanding of our identity, we won’t live and die by how our callings seem to be going at the moment. Every calling has its ups and downs, and people who have a deficient sense of their identity tend to be energized when things are up and discouraged when things are down. But what the world really needs is for us to be Christians who can remain stable through it all because “we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us”(1 Jn. 4:16).

So, what do you do?

Next time you answer that question, remember that you are dearly loved by your Heavenly Father—not because of what you do, but because of what Christ has done.