For the Church

Defending Complementarianism Without Diminishing Women

By eallcorn / Sep 24

When Conviction Is Communicated Without Care

Dear brothers, honor your sisters.

In recent years, many pastors have found themselves in difficult positions and conversations as they seek to defend conservative biblical doctrine. In defending and holding to such doctrines, these shepherds are doing what they are called to do: Protect the sheep of God’s flock. In an age where progressive theology has challenged historic Christian beliefs and reshaped many denominations, there is a need for faithful leaders who stand firmly on sound doctrine and the authority of Scripture.

Jesus warned of “ravenous wolves” who would seek to harm His sheep (Matt. 7:15). If the church abandons biblical convictions regarding leadership, it is the church membership—the sheep of the pasture—that will ultimately be led astray and harmed. Therefore, pastors have a responsibility to protect the flock, guard sound doctrine, and faithfully proclaim the truth.

But as we contend for biblical convictions, we must remember that how we engage these conversations matters. Well-meaning pastors, brothers in Christ, and co-laborers in the work of the kingdom are seeking to uphold the biblical model of leadership found in Scripture. Yet, in the process, faithful women can be trampled underfoot.

Complementarian leadership does not mean the suppression or oppression of women, yet that is the impression being given through many media outlets and from those who disagree with this position. It is important for these brothers—who are leading churches around the world—to recognize that the language and rhetoric they use in this conversation is extremely important. Every pastor is involved at some level, and how things are said matters as much as what is said.

Defending Truth While Honoring People

In conversations about biblical leadership, two things can be true at the same time.

First, complementarianism is the ecclesiological position held by many conservative evangelicals regarding the roles of men and women in church leadership. Many evangelical churches and some denominations have sought to clarify these convictions to better reflect the teaching of Scripture.

At the same time, the way these convictions are communicated matters. A defense of biblical doctrine should never communicate a disregard for women who faithfully serve Christ and His church.

Unfortunately, there are many pastors and individuals who are doing more harm than good in the posture that they approach this issue. Due to how vehemently and passionately they argue, it makes it sound like they truly do wish to suppress women to the point of insignificance. This is largely accidental and is not the heart of biblical complementarianism. When we focus so much on what we oppose, it is easy to lose sight of who and what we are for.

Faithful pastors and students of the Word know how important women have always been to the work of the gospel. Jesus’ ministry was supported by women such as Mary Magdalene, Mary and Martha of Bethany, and even the Samaritan woman who proclaimed Christ to her town. The birth of the church was spurred on with the help of women like Lydia, Phoebe, and Priscilla.

We celebrate the work of women throughout church history who devoted their lives to the advancement of the gospel on the mission field such as Elisabeth Elliott, Annie Armstrong, and Lottie Moon. In local churches around the world, there are countless women who have poured blood, sweat, and tears into the building of the church for the glory of God. Many of them have no desire for recognition—much less a title. They desire to use the gifts God has given them to serve Christ and make an impact on the world. That work must be honored, celebrated, and encouraged.

Remember Your Sisters

Brothers, you have sisters who are listening and following your leadership.

This is an important moment not only to fight for biblical convictions but also to stand alongside these women who are laboring with you to win souls for the Kingdom. Elevating women does not mean placing them into positions not allowed by Scripture. Elevating women in a biblical way means giving them every opportunity to serve in their own ministry capacities and to do their part in building the church. The church does not honor women by setting aside biblical convictions, nor does it honor biblical convictions by failing to honor women. As Paul says, “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor” (Rom. 12:10).

Celebrity Christians

By adabbs / Sep 23

Should “Christian celebrity” even be a thing? How should we think about Christians and fame? How should we think about the concept of public ministry and platform? On this ep of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss the challenges — and potential — of Christian celebrities and Christian celebrity culture.

What Does It Mean to Be Poor in Spirit?

By jlumley / Sep 22

Vs. 3: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs.”

Luke’s first beatitude is “blessed are the poor” (Luke 6:20). Some have argued that Luke and Matthew are at odds because, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus adds the words “in spirit.” In the Old Testament, there is a frequent connection between the poor and those who rely entirely on God. Consider Psalm 37:14, “The wicked draw the sword and bend their bows to bring down the poor and needy, to slay those whose way is upright.” Notice how the psalmist connects the poor and needy with the way of the upright. Or consider Psalm 69:32–33: “When the humble see it they will be glad; you who seek God, let your hearts revive. For the Lord hears the needy and does not despise his own people who are prisoners.” In this psalm, the ones who are humble and who seek God should not be discouraged. Why? Because the Lord is attentive to the needy, literally, “the poor.”

Now, it must also be said that the poor are not automatically blessed by God just because they are poor. One can become poor due to their sinful or foolish actions (see the example of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11–32). Likewise, wealth can become a detriment to one’s spirituality because of its tendency to make one feel satisfied apart from God. That being said, the blessed poor hope in God, not in the things of this world. Even though they have nothing to their name aside from their hope in Yahweh, they are flourishing.[1] It’s entirely possible for the wealthy to be “poor in spirit.” But generally speaking, it’s more difficult because of the temptation to trust in one’s possessions apart from God. Put another way, it’s easier to trust God when he is all you have. Though Luke and Matthew emphasize different aspects of this reality, the first beatitude in their Gospels are talking about the same thing.

Both this beatitude and the second (“blessed are those who mourn”) are likely alluding to Isaiah 61’s picture of the eschatological restoration that the Messiah would bring. Isaiah 61:1 says, “The Spirit of the Lord God is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to the prisoners.” Jesus fulfills this prophecy in his ministry (Luke 4:16–21) and proclaims freedom from the power of sin and death. Final deliverance will not come until his kingdom is consummated, but there is real deliverance for the poor in spirit now at the inauguration of his kingdom.

Going a step further, it’s necessary to say a bit more about what exactly it means to be “poor in spirit.” To be poor in spirit is to see ourselves as we really are on our own: hopeless. Martyn Lloyd-Jones writes, “To be poor in spirit means a complete absence of pride, a complete absence of self-assurance, a complete absence of self-reliance. It means a consciousness that we are nothing in the presence of God.”[2]

Our culture today is fixated on self-confidence, self-esteem, and self-reliance. We are told that we must believe in ourselves. If we believe in ourselves, we can do anything. Unfortunately, this mindset often carries over to our spiritual lives as well. We can be tempted to take credit for the spiritual growth we see in our lives. We might even think that we are pretty good Christians compared to other people in our church. As a result, we begin to implicitly believe that we bring something to the table, spiritually speaking; that we’re pretty good at this whole Christian thing and the church would be far better off if more Christians were like us.

To be “poor in spirit” is the opposite of that. When you’re poor in spirit, you realize that it’s not about you and what you can do. It’s to realize that you bring absolutely nothing to the table. Apart from Jesus Christ, every person is spiritually dead—no matter their education, wealth, accomplishments, or social status.

The poor in spirit recognize their spiritual bankruptcy and total need for God. All they can do is beg for mercy and grace. This describes the person in Isaiah 66:2: “To this one I will look, to him who is humble and contrite of spirit, and who trembles at my word.”

The poor in spirit flourish because they are a part of God’s inbreaking kingdom now. Again, the verb is in the present tense: “The kingdom of heaven is theirs.” It’s a present reality for those who follow Christ. They may have nothing of their own to cling to, either physically or spiritually, but they have their Father’s kingdom which, in turn, gives them everything. If they have God’s approval and are heirs and citizens of his kingdom, then what more could they possibly want or need?

[1] Don Carson, Matthew & Mark: The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2006), 131.

[2] David Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001), 40.

Church Planter, Be Happy

By eallcorn / Sep 21

I used to be a church planter. Maybe I still am. I don’t know.

All I know is that the church I planted more than a decade ago is no longer a church “plant.” It is an established church with elders, staff, property, and long-term plans for disciple-making.

I am also no longer there. A little over a year ago, I was called to serve as a lead pastor of BLDG 28 Church in Clearwater, Florida. Meanwhile, the church I planted, HighView Church, has carried on—advancing its mission and continuing to make disciples in that community.

The truth is, I didn’t stop being a church planter when I left the church I planted. In many ways, the church had ceased to be a plant years before my departure. By year three, it was financially self-sustaining, with a functioning membership, a plurality of elders, deacons, and countless faithful ministry leaders.

From my front-row seat as a church planter, I was able to watch God work in powerful ways. What began with a core team of five people and $200 in support became a vibrant, healthy, gospel-centered church through one act of God’s grace after another.

My time as a church planter was the most faith-building season of my life.

My biggest regret? That I didn’t enjoy it more.

The Burden of Always Looking Ahead

Church planters are a rare breed. Distant cousins of the international missionary, they are (usually) very driven people. While not every church planter is entrepreneurial—that’s a tired stereotype—most possess a deep, internal drive to reach people and start new things. They can instinctively gather a group of people with the gospel and then build that group of people into a functioning, institutional reality we call a local church.

This is a wonderful and desperately needed calling and work. But with some of these “future-facing” gifts comes a shadow. Church planters can become prisoners of then.

“Then” is a mythical time in the future when the church finally becomes what you imagined it would be. The problem is that then never quite arrives. Like Tantalus from Greek mythology—forever reaching for food he would never be able to grasp—our desires always remain out of reach.

Recently, a young pastor exploring church planting asked me, “What’s one word you rarely use to describe church planters.” I blurted out “happy.”

Most church planters I know are joyful people. After all, joy is possible because we rest in Christ regardless of our circumstances. But happy? For me, at least, happiness as a church planter was often elusive because it was tied to arrival—to becoming some final version of the church that was never truly attainable.

Three Lessons I Wish I Had Learned Earlier

If I had it to do over again, here are three lessons I would tell myself.

1. Look Back More Often.

When you are wired to build what isn’t there yet, gratitude takes discipline.

Your eyes are trained on the gap between where the church is and where you believe God is taking it, and that gap never fully closes. So you have to deliberately turn around.

Look. Remember. Keep a record. Write down the name of every person who comes to faith in Christ, every leader God raised up, every month the bills somehow get paid.

I wish I had built a habit of rehearsing those mercies out loud from the beginning—in elders’ meetings, around the dinner table, on the drives home. Looking back is not nostalgia; it is how you store up evidence of God’s faithfulness for the next valley.

2. Don’t Despise the Day of Small Things.

Zechariah spoke these words to a discouraged remnant laying a foundation that seemed insignificant next to the temple they remembered from Solomon (Zech. 4:10). These words are just as relevant for church planters.

The small gathering in a living room, the awkward first baptism, the volunteer team held together with duct tape and prayer. These are not the embarrassing prelude to the real church. They are the real church. God delights to work in such a way that only He can get the credit.

If I had believed that more deeply, I would have spent less time apologizing for what we did not yet have and more time appreciating and thanking God for what was already right in front of me.

The “small” day was never small to God.

3. Remember Who the Church Belongs to.

Jesus said He would build His Church and that the gates of hell would not prevail against it (Matt. 16:18). I believed that. I preached it. But somewhere along the way, I began to live as though the outcome rested on my next decision, my next hire, or my next sermon series.

That is a heavy way to plant a church, and it is an unhappy way to live.

If Christ is the builder, then I am not the one holding it together. The church I kept straining to produce was never mine to build in the first place. It is His to build, in His time and by His grace.

So, church planter, be happy. Not later, when the vision finally arrives. Now, while the work is small, unfinished, and unmistakably His. Christ is building His church. You have the privilege of watching Him do it.

Meeting Christ in the Wilderness: Seasons of Waiting, Pain, and Uncertainty

By eallcorn / Sep 17

Every Christian eventually experiences seasons they would never choose.

Some walk through chronic illness. Others bury loved ones, endure loneliness, face disappointment, or wait for answers that seem slow in coming. There are moments when life seems to stand still and prayers appear to go unanswered. During these difficult seasons, believers often ask a similar question: “Lord, why am I here?”

The Bible is filled with people who spent time in what we might call a wilderness.

Moses spent forty years in the wilderness before leading Israel. David spent years fleeing for his life before becoming king. Elijah found himself alone in the desert, exhausted and discouraged. Jesus Himself spent forty days in the wilderness before beginning His public ministry, fasting and resisting the temptation of Satan.

The wilderness is rarely comfortable, but it is often transformative.

The Wilderness Is a Place of Formation

Modern culture teaches us to value speed, success, and visible results. We want immediate answers, instant solutions, and clear direction. Yet God frequently works through waiting. Scripture repeatedly shows that spiritual maturity is often developed not during seasons of abundance but during seasons of dependence.

One of the greatest dangers in difficult seasons is believing that God has abandoned us. Circumstances can easily become louder than faith. Pain can distort perspective. Disappointment can convince us that our story has stalled. Yet the Bible consistently presents a different message.

God was present with Joseph in prison, Daniel in Babylon, Paul in prison, and Christ in Gethsemane. The absence of comfort does not mean the absence of God. The clearest proof of this is found in Christ Himself. Jesus entered our suffering, carried our grief, and walked through the ultimate wilderness of the cross so that His people would never walk alone.

Many Christians can testify that their deepest spiritual growth occurred during seasons that they would never choose to repeat. The wilderness often strips away false securities and reminds us where our hope truly belongs.

This does not mean suffering is beneficial in itself. Christianity never glorifies pain for its own sake. Jesus healed the sick, comforted the grieving, and fed the hungry. God cares deeply about human suffering. However, Scripture teaches that God can bring purpose from pain and hope from hardship.

Romans 8:28 remains one of the most beloved promises in the New Testament for this reason: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

Notice that Paul does not say all things are good, but that God can work through all things for good. The “good” Paul describes is not necessarily comfort, success, or an easier path, but God’s purpose of making His people more like Christ. That distinction matters.

Christians are not called to deny reality or pretend that hardship is pleasant. Instead, they are invited to trust that God remains faithful even when circumstances are difficult to understand.

The wilderness also teaches dependence. When life is comfortable, it is easy to rely on our abilities. Success can create the illusion of self-sufficiency. Yet difficult seasons remind us how deeply we need God’s grace.

In the wilderness, we often discover how dependent we truly are. Prayer becomes less of a routine and more of a lifeline. Scripture becomes more precious and necessary. Faith becomes less theoretical and more personal. Perhaps this is why God meets people in unexpected places so often. The wilderness may feel empty, but throughout Scripture it often becomes a place of divine encounter.

The Wilderness Is Not Wasted

If you find yourself in such a season today, take heart because your waiting is not wasted, your struggles are seen, and your prayers are heard. God is still working even when His activity is difficult to recognize—and it is often these very seasons that are the most formative.

The wilderness is not the destination; it is part of the journey. And if Christ walks with us through the valley, then even the hardest road can become a place of hope. Through every season of waiting, uncertainty, and hardship, believers can trust that God remains faithful and that Christ walks with them. He has not forgotten His people, and He never wastes the wilderness.

How to Take Every Thought Captive

By adabbs / Sep 16

The phrase comes from 2 Corinthians 10:5 — “taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.” But what does it mean? And how do we do it? In this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss how to cultivate a Christ-captivated imagination.

The Death of Religion?

By eallcorn / Sep 15

Two major storylines have dominated news coverage of American religion in recent years. One is the decline of Christianity. Writers have often based this theme on Pew Research Center reports about the rise of the “Nones,” or people who say they adhere to no religion in particular. One Pew headline, for example, declared, “In U.S., Decline of Christianity Continues at Rapid Pace.” The book The Great Dechurching, by Jim Davis and Michael Graham, helped to popularize the idea of American church decline for a Christian audience. Davis and Graham argue that “we are currently in the middle of the largest and fastest religious shift in the history of our country,” with tens of millions of Americans having stopped attending church in the past quarter century. Happily, Davis and Graham write as faithful church leaders who believe that the downturn in Christian adherents is reversible. But they still paint a grim picture of the contemporary church landscape. At the most popular level of dour predictions, Elon Musk even tweeted, “Unless there is more bravery to stand up for what is fair and right, Christianity will perish.”

The second and related storyline has been the politicization of self-identified white “evangelicals.” These accounts have often focused on the (allegedly) large number of people leaving evangelical churches, partly due to the churches’ alignment with Donald Trump’s Republican Party. One characteristic column from The Conversation investigated “Why Some Younger Evangelicals are Leaving the Faith.” This account was drawn from data publicized by the Public Religion Research Institute, an organization which regularly touts the decline of “white evangelicalism.”

We take a different approach to these matters. Our goals in The Death of Religion? are threefold. One is to argue that the decline of American and world religion—and Christianity, in particular—has been vastly overstated. The second objective is to show that predictions of religion’s demise have been commonplace in America since the Pilgrims stepped off the Mayflower in 1620. The third is to show what a terrible loss it would be if religion did collapse in America or around the world. Or, to put it more positively, we show that religion is one of the anchors of human flourishing worldwide.

We do not believe that it is impossible for religious groups to decline or even disappear. Indeed, we will demonstrate why and how some denominations have done so. But if the forecasts by media and pollsters of religion’s or Christianity’s doom came to pass, it would exact a terrible social and spiritual price.

This book is contrarian. It goes against dominant media and scholarly narratives regarding religion. We present conclusive data to show that religious people are thriving and that practicing religious people are thriving most of all. We further show that at almost every turn, commonly used polling and survey data on religion is misleading, confused, or grossly incomplete. Many self-identified evangelicals, for example, rarely, if ever, go to church, whereas many of the so-called Nones do go to church. We also demonstrate that typical surveys of American congregational life undercount the number of American churches by as much as 40 percent. The uncounted churches are disproportionately evangelical or Pentecostal, and often minister to immigrants and people of color.

We are not contrarian just for the sake of it. Decline is definitely happening among the Protestant mainline churches. Recent years have also seen weakening in major evangelical and Pentecostal churches in America (though not in their global counterparts). Media, polling agencies, and even some pastors have a vested interest in casting religion’s downturn as an unprecedented development.

In historical perspective, however, the storyline seems like a familiar prophecy of spiritual malaise. People in early America worried about the religiously unaffiliated too. They talked about them constantly, although they did not call them Nones, but by the long-forgotten term, nothingarians. The religiously unaffiliated were already stock characters in discussions of religion’s decline by the early nineteenth century. This fact should make us pause when we hear today’s alarm bells concerning the death of religion. Once again, it seems there is nothing new under the sun.

What Makes a Life Radical?

By eallcorn / Sep 10

I was discipled into what I call the “radical movement.” The year I went to college for a year-long missions program was the same year David Platt’s Radical was published. What had been building up in my heart—a desire to serve “the least of these” and go to the mission field—was fueled by not only this book, but the movement around it.

The most influential voices around me instilled the idea that obedience to Jesus was synonymous with giving up everything you have—all your comforts and success—to go to the nations and declare the gospel to those who have never heard.

I embraced that vision, spending two semesters overseas and committing to a life that meant my earthly gain would be set aside for the Kingdom of God. Much of the radical movement’s emphasis was undeniably necessary and transformative. Christians, especially in the West, should have our comfortable Christianity challenged, especially when our discipleship often shows no signs of sacrifice. Most of us can probably think of ways that we’re holding on to things we love more than Jesus, and every Christian is called to lay aside these lesser loves for the greatest Love of all (Luke 9:23).

Yet many of us who came of age in the radical era absorbed an unintended lesson: The highest form of obedience is leaving everything behind to become a missionary.

After graduating college, I began participating in other ministries and opportunities that weren’t necessarily as “radical” as I had learned I should be. As friends moved overseas, I wondered whether signing a lease, building a career, and furnishing an apartment were signs that I was settling for less than radical obedience. I believed that others around me would judge these choices for not being radical enough, and even received some comments in this vein. I still believed Jesus called me to radical, costly obedience, but my vision of what that meant was far too narrow.

Sometimes, obedience means leaving your home to go to the nations. Sometimes, obedience is remaining where God has you, laying down a dream, offering your gifts for God’s purposes, or loving your neighbors. Always, obedience is surrender. I didn’t need a smaller view of obedience, but a more robust one.

One of the most helpful guides for me when thinking about obedience is Lilias Trotter, an artist and missionary. Her story is not well known, but is often told as though she abandoned art entirely to become a missionary. While Trotter did surrender her pursuit of artistic recognition, she continued to use her art to share the gospel for forty years of ministry in Algeria. Her story helped me realize that obedience is not always about abandoning our gifts and ambitions.[1] It is about surrendering them to Christ and asking Him to establish the work of our hands (Ps. 90:17). Trotter did not stop being an artist when she became a missionary. She simply stopped pursuing artistic recognition as her primary aim. Obedience is surrendering everything to the lordship of Christ.

Today, I still believe we need more missionaries heading to unreached nations, not less. I believe we need more Christians who are foster parents, work in crisis pregnancy centers, feed the hungry, and provide medical care for those in need, not less. I believe we should regularly ask the Lord what we need to surrender to His will. And I also believe that whether you are a chief financial officer, a pastry chef, a cashier, a truck driver, an artist, or a missionary, you are called to do all things to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31).

The question is not whether your life appears radical enough to other Christians. The question is whether all that you have—your gifts, ambitions, career, possessions, relationships, and future—is surrendered to Christ. Obedience may lead you across the ocean or across the street, but it will always result in a radical life, because a radical life is one that belongs to God.

[1] For more on Lilias Trotter, see Allyson Howell, “By Faith Women: Lilias Trotter,” Substack, June 9, 2026, https://allysonmhowell.substack.com/p/if-she-chose-another-path-you-might.

Theology For Life

By adabbs / Sep 9

Why do we experience such distance between the idea of doctrine and delight? Why do we insist on a separation between learning doctrine and practical life? This week Jared Wilson talks to Ronni Kurtz about Ronni’s new book Theology for Life: A Joy-Filled Introduction to Christian Doctrine (Baker Books) releasing this week. Theology for Life takes a distinctive approach to introducing Christian doctrine. Each chapter does two things: first, it explains a crucial doctrine clearly and accessibly; then, it shows you how to delight in that doctrine and be shaped by it into the person God calls you to be. Good theology, Kurtz argues, isn’t simply about learning–it’s about living. And it produces not division or drudgery, but joy. Available now wherever Christian books are sold.

When Theology Fails to Form Us

By eallcorn / Sep 8

There are many ways theology can be misused and abused.[1] Given this book aims to see doctrine as an avenue for delight, articulating ways theology and doctrine may be used for ill may prove helpful and can give us a diagnostic for the way theology moves us in our own time spent contemplating the Lord. Theology done well ought to lead us to delight in the Lord and pursue the good of our neighbor; theology done poorly can lead to many negative outcomes. The three pairs I have in mind here are (1) performance and pride, (2) division and discord, and (3) a poor substitute for wisdom and wholeness.

Performance and Pride

To say that theology can be misused in the direction of performance and pride is to recognize that there are those whose goal is applause, and theology just happens to be a convenient vehicle toward that end. Of course, this ultimate desire is not an expressed one, for few would come out and explicitly state that they strive for applause, yet the gravitational pull toward acceptance via doctrinal thinking is real. There are spaces in evangelicalism where it seems that theology has become something of a stage on which doctrinal pundits perform an act in hopes of riling an already agreeable base toward applause and acceptance. As we have seen various news outlets move from the business of information toward entertainment, we have also witnessed a growth—especially in our social media age—of theology-as-entertainment in which the goal is not the glory of God or love of our neighbor but the continued pursuit of outrage, clicks, and controversies.

When theology is pursued as a performance, it is often accompanied by pride. There is something intoxicating about receiving the applause of others, being the focal point, memorizing arguments, using fancy jargon, and being the most informed person in a room. When time spent developing theological ability is used toward the end of puffing someone up instead of in service to God and his people, corrosive pride often follows. We know pride has taken over the theological pursuit when the telos, or goal, of our theology shifts from loving our neighbor to getting the attention of our neighbor.

Division and Discord

Beyond the pull toward performance and pride that can accompany theology done poorly is the evergreen worry that theology may lead to division and discord. The worry here is that theological exploration will lead not to intellectual clarity leading to deeper community and more rooted belonging but to an ever- growing list of ideas over which the church may divide. This problem is accentuated by our cultural moment. It seems that some spheres of theological discourse have taken notes from modern political discourse, as many of the same divisive tactics are employed. When theology is framed merely in us- versus- them dynamics, it is easy to prioritize “winning” doctrinal arguments and “defeating opponents.” Rather than theological contemplation being a God- ordained means to steady our souls and form us into persons who are equipped and enabled to behold the glory of God, theology done poorly has the potential instead to become mere intellectual ammunition in our ever- shifting ideological wars.

Substitute Wisdom and Wholeness

The final malpractice I want to mention is mistaking theological knowledge for wisdom. To put it plainly: We must see Christian maturity and sanctification as more than mere theological intelligence. When Scripture describes faithful followers of Christ, it seems to have the whole person in mind. For example, when the Synoptic Gospels discuss “the greatest commandment,” we can see the emphasis in Matthew’s, Mark’s, and Luke’s lists. The disciples ask Jesus, “Which is the greatest commandment in the law?” In Matthew’s account, Jesus says the greatest commandment is to love the Lord with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind (Matt. 22:36–40). Mark’s and Luke’s accounts also include these three— heart, soul, mind— but also include a fourth: strength (Mark 12:28– 31; Luke 10:27).

Two observations about these passages are important for our purposes: First, any notion of holistic devotion to the Lord must include the life of the mind. Theological contemplation is not reserved for a special sect of super- Christians but is the glorious calling and task of all those who wish to follow Christ. Second, while all three lists include the mind, they also include other elements of the Christian life. These two observations come together to instruct us that the life of the mind is a necessary ingredient but is not sufficient for a holistic understanding of Christian maturity.

Yes, theological wisdom is needed for a rooted stability in the Christian life. So is relational wisdom, emotional wisdom, ecclesial wisdom, and more. We must not make the mistake of confusing theological intelligence for Christian wisdom. Knowing a lot of facts about God does not mean one has an intimate relationship with God. Moreover, knowledge and wisdom are not synonymous. There is a substantial difference between being well- read in theology and knowing how the doctrines that make up the Christian faith cultivate our souls and enable us to administer reality in a world full of lies.

[1] There are, of course, others who have written about misuses and abuses of theology. See, for example, the three reasons Keith Johnson gives in his book Theology as Discipleship (IVP Academic, 2015), which has some overlap with the three I have listed here. Also see my chapter “Why Do the Theologians Rage?” in Ronni Kurtz, Fruitful Theology: How the Life of the Mind Leads to the Life of the Soul (B&H, 2022).