What Preachers Can Learn from Spurgeon’s Sermons

By / Sep 5

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from the foreword to C. H. Spurgeon’s Sermons: Revival Years – New Park Street Pulpit 1855–1860. Used by permission of Reformation Heritage Books. This collection is now available for purchase.

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My hope is that every gospel minister will have in his personal library his own complete set of Charles Spurgeon’s sermons. Let me tell you why.

As a preacher, Charles Spurgeon must be counted among the greats of church history. When it comes to notoriety, Spurgeon was to the nineteenth century what George Whitefield was to the eighteenth and Billy Graham to the twentieth centuries. He was the best known and most influential minister of his era.

Spurgeon was born in 1834, and his life and ministry took place during the Victorian Era. The British Empire, with its global reach, proved a divine conduit for Spurgeon’s ministry, carrying his sermons, articles, and books around the world. He was a physical dynamo, doing the work of multiple men at once, a phenomenon he explained occurred by the Holy Spirit working through him.

Spurgeon launched and presided over sixty-six ministries, the most notable of which were orphanages for boys and girls and his Pastor’s College. Like the Metropolitan Tabernacle, these ministries exist today.

But Spurgeon’s influence, then and now, goes back to his preaching ministry. Throughout his ministry, stenographers recorded his sermons as he delivered them. During the week his sermons would be transcribed, set in galleys, quickly edited, and then printed for distribution. The “Penny Pulpit” was mailed all over the world, further amplifying his ministerial reach.

During his prime, Spurgeon often preached ten or more times per week. His powers of oratory, imagination, and recollection proved a fierce combination, holding his listeners’ rapt attention. No one could turn a phrase, deploy the full complement of the English language, or recall theological and historical facts like Spurgeon. It’s as though Spurgeon never uttered an inarticulate sentence or ever preached a boring sermon. That singular gifting, coupled with the evident power of Scripture and favor of the Holy Spirit, gave his sermons authority and brought his ministry unique results.

Spurgeon was not a classic expositor. Typically, he did not preach verse by verse through passages of Scripture. Rather, he customarily selected a verse and heralded all the theological and spiritual truth contained within it.

Just as Spurgeon’s preaching was unique, so was his preparation. The extraordinary demands on Spurgeon’s life and his singular gifting meant that his sermon preparation was unorthodox. Though all of life was sermon preparation for Spurgeon, he often prepared his Sunday sermons on Saturday evenings. As a young man, he took heavy notes into the pulpit. As he advanced in ministry, he typically entered the pulpit with a minimal outline, often jotted on a scrap of paper.

Though his sermon notes were as minimal as his sermon preparation, when Spurgeon entered the pulpit, the Lion roared. Throngs flocked to hear his sermons, just as multitudes were changed by them. Never in London, before or since, has someone so impacted that great metropolis for Christ. All this, and more, is why Spurgeon is universally acclaimed as a—if not the—Prince of Preachers.

Yet there’s more than Spurgeon’s enduring relevance that makes this project opportune. Indeed, the renewed publishing of Spurgeon’s sermons arrives at a time of great need for local churches. Evangelical preaching is at a low ebb. Shrinking attention spans and shallow sermons leave many churchgoers deprived of the pure milk of the Word. What is more, in many evangelical churches, the hour of worship more resembles a concert venue than a public worship service.

But Scripture indicates that true worship encompasses the public reading of Scripture; corporate prayer; the singing of psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs (Eph. 5:19; Col. 3:16); and the preaching of the Word.

Historically, Protestants have viewed preaching as the central, anchoring component of the public worship service. Thus, the pulpit is the focal point of the place of worship and preaching the focal point of the service of worship.

And this is for good reason. Even in the midst of a darkening culture, a drifting church, and a vacillating heart, Paul charged Timothy—and through Timothy, us—to preach the Word, in season and out.

Thus, we should look to Spurgeon, including this sixty-three-volume collection of his sermons, to stir within ourselves and the twenty-first-century church a return to Christ-centered, biblically based sermons.

Just as preaching is indispensable to Christian worship, so preachers are indispensable to Christian ministry. In fact, the ability to teach the Word is the one requisite gift every biblically qualified pastor must possess. That’s because teaching is the one, nondelegable responsibility of every biblically qualified pastor.

In this regard, the apostle Paul’s logic was airtight. In Romans 10:14–15 he argued, “How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!”

Churches will be no stronger than the strength of the pulpit, and the pulpit will not be stronger than the calling and quality of the men who enter them. Indeed, much is at stake in the preaching of the Word.

All this is to say that preaching and preachers are indispensable to the church’s ministry. This was true in Spurgeon’s day, and it is true in ours as well.

And so, dear reader, may the spirit of Spurgeon be yours. And may your commitment to preach be stirred anew and your ability to preach strengthened as you read these sermons from the Prince of Preachers himself, the immortal Charles Haddon Spurgeon.



The Job Only You Can Do

By / Aug 30

In less than two years as a pastor’s wife, I missed one Christmas Eve service and both Easter Sundays. I didn’t volunteer for VBS, I neglected the church’s social media (which very much needed help), and I didn’t step in when the youth group needed a female leader. I had a master’s degree in theology, a nice little resume of ministry service experience under my belt, and a genuine desire to use my gifts in service for my church.

So what went wrong?

As a new pastor’s wife, I was also a new mom. I was learning how to parent a toddler (which included realizing how often they get sick!) and transitioning to caring for two kids after my second child was born. I was also working part-time, trying to love my neighbors, care for my home, and emotionally support my bi-vocational pastor-husband. Yet every time I said “no” to something else, I was sure I was a disappointment. I was ridden with guilt for not doing more.

During that time, I heard a story of another pastor’s wife who, when asked about how she serves her church, often responds, “I take care of the pastor.” Regardless of what her other involvements with the church might have looked like, she had a clear understanding of her primary responsibility: her family.

While my husband is not currently in pastoral ministry, I’m still learning the same lesson. Everything I do has to work concurrently with my roles as wife and mom. If anything infringes on my ability to faithfully fulfill those two roles, it is a problem. Discerning this requires wisdom from God; faithfulness will look different for different women in different seasons. The principle remains, as a dear friend and mentor of mine put it, “No one else can be his wife. No one else can be their mom.”

As Christians, we are commanded to do all things unto the glory of God. In that, there is so much freedom in what our lives can look like—what work we do, where we live, how we spend our time. Do it all to the glory of God, and make disciples as you go. Yet for those of us who are wives and mothers, we have some additional, more specific commands on our lives:

“Older women…are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children…” (Titus 2:3–4).

Love your husband. Love your children. In whatever else you do (or don’t do), there is a lot of freedom. But these two things are essential, and there is no one else who can do them like you can. No one else can be his wife. No one else can be their mom.

Wife, love your husband.

Once prompted by a sermon application, I asked my husband some questions about how I could serve him better, including the question, “What is one way I’m serving you now that you really want me to keep doing?” I may never forget his answer, because I was almost offended. He said with the most sincere, profound appreciation, “I love that I never have to think about what I’m going to eat. Thank you for planning out all our meals.”

Sorry, what? That’s it? I don’t know what I was expecting. Perhaps some waxing eloquent about how I sharpen him through our theological discussions or support him by doing my best to fill in gaps at our church where I can. But no. He just likes that I feed him! Go figure.

This is a trite example perhaps, but it was a lesson to me in that sometimes the most impactful service is the simplest service. Meal planning is a practical way I love my husband, and no one else is going to do that for him.

Loving your husband does not have to be complicated, and it certainly shouldn’t be boastful or self-interested, as my heart is so often inclined to be. Loving your husband can look like meals, consistent intercessory prayer, getting up with the kids so he can rest, long hours at work while he’s in school, or a listening ear at the dinner table. You have to discern how it will look for you—in your home, your life stage, with your husband—but you must love him. It’s a job only you can do.

Mother, love your children.

From the time my first son was born, I’ve identified as “the expert” of my children. No one knows my boys like I do (though their daddy comes close). I have understood my toddler’s words best as he’s learned to speak; I know my boys’ sleep schedules, favorite things, and all their little idiosyncrasies. What a gift it is to learn a little more of who they are every day and to know them as their mother.

With that, what a burden I have to love them in the ways I know they need! They are so vulnerable and so dependent. I grow frustrated all too often in parenting, only to have the Holy Spirit remind me of how I am far more like my children than I am unlike them. My neediness before God is infinitely greater than my children’s neediness before me.

Loving children, though it is so challenging, is simple. Meet their needs. Train and discipline them in truth and love. Speak kindly. Play. It sounds so easy, but it is so much more difficult to do with consistency! May God give us strength and wisdom to obey the command to love our children. No one else can love your children like you can.

So the Word of God may not be reviled.

The passage from Titus 2 referenced earlier ends with a powerful “why” statement: “…that the Word of God may not be reviled.”

What a mission! May we not be the cause of the reviling—the slandering, smearing, defaming—of the Word of God. What basic yet profound tasks we have to do, to prevent this. Love our husbands. Love our children. Be self-controlled, kind, working at home, submissive to our own husbands. Simple obedience will yield Kingdom-impacting results—that the Word of God may not be reviled.

Praise God that we have abundant grace for us in Christ Jesus as we seek to be faithful to this calling. In and of ourselves, we cannot love our husbands and children as we should, but the Holy Spirit can empower us to do so. May He fuel our love for our husbands and children today and every day. No one else can be his wife; no one else can be their mom.

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Editor’s Note: To celebrate the important role of pastors’ wives in supporting their husbands and serving the local church, Midwestern Seminary is giving away two free round-trip tickets for a pastor and his wife to visit any city in the continental United States. When you enter, you’ll receive a free eBook copy of The Pastor’s Wife by Gloria Furman. Enter by September 5 for a chance to win.



Six Words of Advice for Young Seminarians

By / Aug 22

For many pastors, time spent in formal seminary training is one of the most joyful seasons of life. Most seminary students are in their twenties or early thirties, learning God’s Word and how to walk by faith in all spheres of life. Toward that end I offer here six steps for maximizing the seminary experience.

Be ready to repent. Seminary brings fleshly thinking and habits to the surface. If it is the case that the Word exposes sin, the more time we are around the Word, the more we are exposed. And this is good news! Can you imagine how fleshly our churches would be if we did not have seminaries as spheres of learning where we might discover and deal with fleshly thought patterns? Since the Word is central to all courses at MBTS, a school like ours is a place where students and faculty are confronted about all sorts of fleshly living. It may be that seminary uniquely exposes areas of prideful comparison and competition. When students receive graded papers, they are tempted to ask how fellow students scored; when grading a Hebrew grammar quiz in class, students are tempted to score themselves as highly as possible; when sharing about the number of evangelistic encounters they have had, seminarians want to be sure that their efforts do not go unnoticed. Faculty are tempted to use their platform for self-glory or academic posturing when they get noticed for this or that speaking event or publication. So, the Spirit confronts these fleshly thought patterns and empowers the seminary community to repent and walk in the humble power of the gospel.

Prepare for financial struggles—and miraculous provision. The records of heaven are filled with accounts of God’s faithfulness to young men and women, sometimes with children tagging along, who step out in faith to attend seminary. Most seminary students begin the journey with little cash to spare, initially seeking God to provide a job. And He does. I meet student after student who notes how God provides flexible work through which they can both make it to class and make ends meet. During seminary, most students run into a financial bind—or two. This is part of God’s curriculum for pastors: in leading a church post-seminary, men of God will need to personally know of God’s faithfulness if they will lead the flock to walk by faith. Upon graduation, seminary students, often with tears, detail how God provided through extra work, an anonymous gift, the kindness of their local church, or a generous family member. God has yet to be unfaithful to meet the church’s or her leaders’ needs in training.

Take advantage of various learning platforms seminaries provide. MBTS prioritizes residential education, and we want students to learn from the faculty personally. There is no substitute for life-on-life learning from men and women who serve also as mentors. This can be done in both residential and online education. Paul’s command that Timothy teach faithful men what he had heard Paul teach (2 Tim. 2:2) has in view face-to-face human relationships. However, online education at MBTS provides students with opportunities for excellent education in a more flexible schedule. At MBTS, several online classes exactly reflect residential classes: same syllabus, same instructor. At MBTS, even the most sought-after residential teachers also teach online. This ensures students have the same core learning activities, whether at 5001 N. Oak Trafficway or a home office in New Jersey. And at MBTS, faculty teaching online call each of their students at least once per course. Since a physical classroom environment provides compelling educational opportunities, young seminarians should enroll in residential classes with their favorite professors and courses of particular interest. Nevertheless, it would be unwise not to take advantage of online course offerings, even if they comprise the bulk of a seminarian’s curriculum.

Prioritize studying the biblical languages. Many of the course subjects offered by seminaries also surface in the breakout sessions of major conferences like The Gospel Coalition or MBTS’s own For the Church Conference. However, I have yet to attend such a conference where breakout sessions included analysis of the seven Hebrew verb stems or the points of commonality and distinction in certain Greek prepositions. Knowledge of Scripture in the original languages provides the highest degree of doctrinal clarity—and opens windows for addressing all sorts of issues in view at major conferences. Since seminaries are the central institutions for researching and teaching the biblical languages, young seminarians do well to get from a seminary what can be acquired most readily at a seminary, i.e., Greek and Hebrew grammar and exegesis classes.

See the local church as a classroom, too. If the hallways and classrooms at MBTS could speak, they would talk of students conversing about the happenings of their local church. Midwestern Seminary’s “For the Church” mission compels students to teach in and learn from a local church to which they belong as members. So, the experiences students enjoy in a local church are not just sterile performances; students contribute to the family of God as gifted brothers and sisters. Within the local body, seminary students may participate in a scaffolding of opportunities for leading, teaching, and serving in all sorts of capacities: some students can complete an internship program that provides a high degree of structured experience; others no less faithfully take advantage of various opportunities the local church might offer them. Whatever level of service seminary students can complete, they find that local church participation coheres seminary coursework with the Great Commission.

Above all, enjoy!

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Editor’s note: This article originally appeared in the Midwestern Magazine, Issue 35.



Pastor, Be What You Want to See

By / Aug 16

God forbids pastoral domineering but commands instead “being examples to the flock” (1 Pet. 5:3). Therefore, pastor, whatever you are, your church will eventually become. If you are a loudmouth boaster, your church will gradually become known for loudmouth boasting. If you are a graceless idiot, your church will gradually become known for graceless idiocy. The leadership will set the tone of the community’s discipleship culture, setting the example of the church body’s “personality.” So whatever you want to see, that is what you must be.

This is another reason why plurality of eldership is so important. The most important reason to have multiple elders leading a church is because that is the biblical model. A plurality of eldership also provides unity in leadership on the nonnegotiable qualifications but works against uniformity in leadership by establishing a collaboration of wisdom, diversity of gifts, and collection of experiences.

Elders must be qualified, so in several key areas they will be quite similar. But through having a plurality of elders, a church receives the example of unity in diversity, which is to be played out among the body as well. Every elder ought to “be able to teach” (1 Tim. 3:2), but not every elder must be an intellectual sort (if you follow my meaning). Every elder must be “self-controlled,” but some may be extroverts and some introverts, some may be analytical types and others creative. Every elder must be “respectable” and “a husband of one wife,” but some may be older and some may be younger. The more diversity one can manage on an elder board while still maintaining a unity on the biblical qualifications, the fellowship’s doctrinal affirmations, and the church’s mission, the better.

A plurality of elders can be an example to the congregation of unity of mind and heart despite differences. Pastors are not appointed to a church primarily to lead in the instruction of skills and the dissemination of information; they are appointed to a church primarily to lead in Christ-following.

A different set of traits is needed for pastors than for the business world’s management culture. Paul writes, “But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children” (1 Thess. 2:7). This is not exactly the pastoral image that is most popular today. In an age when machismo and “catalytic, visionary” life-coaching dominate the evangelical leadership ranks, the ministerial model of a breastfeeding mom is alien. There is a patience, a parental affection, a tender giving of one’s self that Scripture envisions for the pastor’s role in leadership. In 2 Corinthians 12:15, Paul announces, “I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls.” That is the pastor’s heart.

Leading the Way

If we want our churches to be of one mind, to be of one heart, to assassinate their idols and feast on Christ, to be wise and winsome with the world they have forsaken, to be gentle of spirit but full of confidence and boldness, to be blossoming with the fruit of the Spirit, we must lead the way.

A pastor goes first. In groups where transparency is expected, a pastor goes first. In the humility of service, a pastor goes first. In the sharing of the gospel with the lost, a pastor goes first. In the discipleship of new believers, a pastor goes first. In the singing of spiritual songs with joy and exuberance, a pastor goes first. In living generously, a pastor goes first. In the following of Christ by the taking up of one’s cross, a pastor goes first. All I am saying is that one who talks the talk ought to walk the walk. Don’t lead your flock through domineering; lead by example.

The pastor ought to be able to say with integrity to others, as Paul says to Timothy, “Follow the pattern of the sound words that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 1:13). It is not arrogant to instruct others to follow you, so long as you are following Christ and showing them Christ and giving them Christ. “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ,” Paul says again (1 Cor. 11:1).

Younger pastors especially are as eager to find role models as they are eager to be role models. But we are not about trying to create fan clubs and clone armies. We are about seeding Christlikeness through the Spirit’s power. “Let no one despise you for your youth,” Paul instructs his young protégé (1 Tim. 4:12), but he provides the way to do this: “set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.” The way you prevent others from looking down on your youth is by growing up.

Growing up. That is what God wants for his church.

And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ . . . (Eph. 4:11-13)

He is making us fit for the habitation he has already promised us and given us in our mystical union with Christ. He is making us holy as he is holy.

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Editor’s Note: This article was originally published on FTC.co in March 2019. To learn more from Jared C. Wilson and other seasoned pastors on faithful ministry for the beauty of the Church, join us on September 23-24 for the 2024 For the Church National Conference, “Faithful: Serving the Most Beautiful People on Earth.”



The Relationship of Theology, Worship, and Missions

By / Jul 30

The missionary imperative springs from the recognition that God’s glory is of such beauty and grandeur that all the nations of the world must know and worship Him. On the one hand, good theology undergirds the gospel and feeds authentic worship, which drives missions. On the other hand, bad theology and false teaching misrepresent God, distort the gospel, twist evangelistic motivations, and destroy authentic worship, all of which choke out the missionary impulse.[1]

Missionary-theologian Lesslie Newbigin writes, “Mission is an acted-out doxology. That is its deepest secret. Its purpose is that God may be glorified.”[2] Therefore, theology directly influences missiology because missions should be the overflow of worshipping God. In other words, theology leads to doxology, which drives missiology, and missiology should result in doxology.

Theology is extremely practical for missionaries.[3] Missionaries bear the responsibility of representing God and communicating the gospel to people who have never heard it. They lay the foundation of the Church in new places. As D. Jeffrey Bingham (Research Professor of Historical Theology and Jesse Hendley Chair of Biblical Theology at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary) says, “Evangelists are frontline theologians.”[4] That is why seminary training is so crucial. Midwestern seeks to train ministers of the gospel in sound theology because we take the worship of God seriously. Midwestern’s motto, “for the Church,” expresses a commitment to equip men and women with the tools they need to establish radiant, theologically rich, worshipping churches worldwide.

The Academic Life, Contemplative Life, and Missional Life

Another way of describing the interplay between theology, worship, and missions is to think in terms of the academic life, the contemplative life, and the missional life. At Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, the professors in every department design their curricula to give their students a world-class education. Professors assign readings that engage with the top scholars in every field as they develop students into theologians. But no professor at Midwestern would be content with producing mere academics. Each one believes the life of the mind should feed the life of the soul. The professors at Midwestern want to cultivate worshippers. We long for our students to really know God, to see His beauty, and to stand in awe of Him. Professors would be grieved if their students stopped with the academic life and failed to move on to the contemplative life.

Yet even the contemplative life is stunted unless it overflows into a missional life, a life of active love for others. Matthew Barrett, Professor of Christian Theology at Midwestern, writes, “Gazing at the beauty of the Lord is the premier ambition of the theologian, but the theologian’s task is incomplete if his heavenly gaze is for himself alone.”[5] Contemplation of God should lead to definite steps to invite more people to encounter the majesty of God. In short, the contemplative life should inspire the missional life.

Newbigin, with characteristic incisiveness, says, “All true vitality in the work of missions depends in the last analysis upon the secret springs of supernatural life which they know who give time to communion with God. All true witness to Christ is the overflowing of a reality too great to be contained. It has its source in a life of adoration and intercession.”[6] This dynamic can be diagrammed as follows:

Summary 

When a Christian understands the relationship between theology, doxology, and missiology as well as academics, affections, and missions, seminary training takes on a whole new light. It is easy to grow impatient while studying. Everything in you wants to be on the field. But if it is true that a proper and lasting missionary zeal is the overflow of good theology and true doxology, then you should feel a willingness to press into your studies as you patiently prepare your mind and heart for missionary work.

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[1] Adam Dodds argues, “A demise in the belief in and confession of the Triune God will inexorably lead to a partial or faulty understanding of the gospel. Misunderstanding this good news, which contains within itself missional momentum, will result in a corresponding decline in missional consciousness and practice.” Adam Dodds, The Mission of the Triune God: Trinitarian Missiology in the Tradition of Lesslie Newbigin (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2017), chapter 6.

[2] Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1989), 127.

[3] Martin Kähler famously declared missions “the mother of theology.” As long as the gospel remained in its original Jewish context, evangelists could assume a high level of shared understanding with their audience. But when the gospel began to cross linguistic, cultural, and geographic boundaries, the need for theologizing grew urgent. Missionaries had to work hard to define key terms to make the gospel intelligible among the nations. These missionary efforts eventually culminated in confessional statements like the Nicene and Chalcedonian Creeds.

Paul, the most important theologian of all time, self-identified as a missionary or “the apostle to the Gentiles” (Rom 11:13). He wrote the letter to the Romans, the most theologically dense work ever written, as a missionary support letter, urging the believers in Rome to assist him as he sought to “bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles (ἔθνεσιν, ethnos) for His name’s sake” (1:5; cf. 16:26). Paul’s theological output flowed from his missionary calling to bring the gospel to the nations.

[4] D. Jeffrey Bingham, Systematic Theology II, Class 6, Part 1, https://youtu. be/8g4igX6ztvw, accessed 9 May 2018.

[5] Matthew Barrett, “Classical Theology: A Spiritual Exercise,” Journal of Classical Theology 1 (2022): 5–19.

[6] Lesslie Newbigin, “Developments during 1962: An Editorial Survey,” International Review of Mission 100 no. 2 (Nov 2011), 401.



Dominion, Donuts, and the Digital Age

By / Jul 25

When I put a new vegetable in front of my four-year-old, his eyes narrow, his brow furrows, he leans slowly closer to his plate, and, before tasting it, he predictably says, “I don’t like this.” This neophobia—the fear of the new—seems contextually inborn.

When I tell my four-year-old, “We are going to watch a new movie,” his eyes widen, his arms raise, a spontaneous interpretive dance ensues, and, after I tell him what the movie is, before he’s seen it, he predictably says, “I like this movie.” Neophilia—the love of the new—seems contextually inborn.

My hunch is that in the first half of your life, there is a natural neophilia for technology, and in the second half of your life, there is a learned neophobia for technology. Is that neophilia youthful folly or openness, a sense of possibility, and belief in the ingenuity of the imago dei? Is that neophobia sober wisdom or cynicism, the accumulation of disappointment from the over-promise-under-deliver marketing gurus?

When we turn to the Scriptures, we see neither neophobia nor neophilia endorsed. Rather, within the first few chapters of Genesis, we see a wise formula for how we ought to engage technology as Christians and parents: open, but cautious.

Skirts for Shame

In Genesis 3, after breaking the one commandment that God had given them, Adam and Eve are in crisis-management mode. In a sense, they default back to their good and proper design: they make something.

God had previously assigned them the task of unfolding the latent goodness of creation. The exact words in Genesis 1:27 are “subdue” and “dominion,” which, to the Hebrew mind, conjure up images of kneading bread, plowing fields, or crushing grapes: it is creative force.

Adam and Eve, feeling ashamed, then use the ability God gave them and “sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths” and hid from God (Genesis 3:7-8). They are doing the work God had called them initially to do, but in a misdirected way.

Both the process of sewing and the result of sewing are good technologies; hiding from God is a disordered use of technology. Theologian Al Wolters gives us the categories of Structure and Direction to make sense of this recurring reality. The structures or processes of creation remain good—Adam and Eve can still do the work of subduing and dominion—but the direction or goals can be disordered and contrary to God’s desires.

Rather than creating in such a way that fosters a relationship with God, they use what they make to create distance between themselves and their Maker.

Farming for Fratricide

In Genesis 4, Cain kills Abel. How? Genesis doesn’t say, but the non-canonical book of Jasher says that he used “the iron part of his plowing instrument.” This is likely what Joel is referring to when he says, “beat your plowshares into swords.”

Humanity had developed the good technology of mining, blacksmithing, and plowing. They were walking in faithfulness to the command to “have dominion over all the earth” (Genesis 1:26) and fulfilling their call to “work the ground” (Genesis 2:5).

Yet, while this tech was originally developed for good purposes, the human heart found a way to twist it and use it for violence. Instead of only getting more efficient at farming, humanity also got more efficient at bludgeoning; the original design of the plowshare to support and extend human life is inverted and becomes a means of ending human life.

Dominion for Debauchery

In Genesis 9, Noah gets off the ark and gets busy living into the responsibility of mankind to work the ground. He becomes a “man of the soil” and “plants a vineyard” (Genesis 9:20). This is good. Wine, winepresses, wineglasses, wine barrels, and viticulture are all technology—the creatures are creating as was designed.

Turning the field into a vineyard doesn’t end well, though. The good structures are used for disordered ends. Noah drinks to the point of being drunk and then embarrasses himself and his family in such a way that there are generational consequences (Genesis 9:21-29).

The wine that was meant to “gladden the heart of man” (Psalm 104:15) instead brings sorrow, shame, and servitude. Noah was too open and not cautious enough to the thrills of technology.

Bricks for Babel

In Genesis 11, humanity uncovers new technology that can be used in construction: baked bricks and bitumen. Even after the fall, humans continue to walk in the image of the creator God and can’t-stop-won’t-stop innovating and developing.

Yet, instead of leaning into the image of God and letting their creativity be a conduit of fame and reverence for the Almighty Creator, they use it as a chance to “make a name” for themselves. Rather than letting this new technology propel them outward and fill the earth with the imago dei, they decide to build a tower “lest we be dispersed across the face of the earth” (Genesis 11:4); the tech produces glory-stealing and sloth.

The result of the story gives the story its name: Babel. The civilization organized around a shared affinity for self-glory and resistance to the LORD’s commission ends up unable to communicate within itself; the first echo chambers are established, and the once-unified community breaks into tribes.

Craftsmanship for Crucifixion

In the New Testament, the tree, the great symbol of life with God (cf. Psalm 1), becomes the instrument of torturous death: the wooden cross, a piece of technology designed to embarrass, torture, and kill. The inventors have become “inventors of evil” (Romans 1:30).

Consider the variety of technological means employed in the murder of the Son of God. He is flogged using a special whip made of leather, bone, and lead. He is crowned and clothed in thorns and wool twisted together, woven, and dyed. Iron was mined and formed into hammers and nails for crucifixion. Then, a sign was commissioned to shame him, a sponge harvested and put in his face to extend his suffering, and a spear was used to verify the death.

The carpenter is killed by a work of carpentry. The Creator is murdered creatively by His creation’s creations.

Regulate, Don’t Abdicate

People do not plan on becoming alcoholics, yet many find themselves there. They were too open and not cautious enough. The same is true for technology; our neophilia often gets the best of us.

The temptations of technology are the same that the serpent dangled in Eden: you can be like God. Delusions of omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience pour gasoline on our bullish neophilia.

As the serpent has dominion over Adam and Eve in the garden, so also our technology tends to have dominion over us; most adults I know, myself included, carry some level of shame regarding how they feel they are on their phones too much. The Artificial Intelligence revolution is not going to slow down our algorithmic overlords.

I think we need to relate to our technology like we relate to donuts. If I let my four-year-old eat as many donuts as he wants, he’ll get sick, be grouchy, and, at a certain point, his development will be impaired; refined sugars are addictive by nature. Even for adults, too many donuts too often could inflame our gut, harm our sleep, and contribute to premature death in a dozen ways. At the same time, it’s hard to beat a donut with your son on a Saturday morning.

I think we need to parent our kids around technology like we parent them around donuts. The mental health epidemic teens face is inseparable from the ubiquity of screen time, unfiltered internet access, and premature consumption of addictive and adult content. At the same time, it’s hard to beat FaceTiming your aunt who lives on another continent.

Too often, as adults, we trust Big Tech to act in our best interests, presuming that they’d choose to limit their profits in the name of “do no harm.” That is a poor assumption, and it amounts to abdication. Not engaging in self-harming behavior is our responsibility.

Likewise, as parents, we are tempted to hand our children iPads and iPhones and let the algorithm work its magic, hoping we can enjoy uninterrupted evenings or a Saturday on the couch. This is like handing a four-year-old a box of donuts and saying, “Stop eating whenever you want.” Not only is it selfish, at a certain point it is neglect and abdication.

We must be regulators and not abdicators. Set the limits, hold the lines, and put our creations in their rightful places. Adam and Eve weren’t able to say, “Get behind me Satan,” but Jesus was. The technological society won’t place proper limits on itself; one inch at a time, the people of God must walk in authority over our devices specifically and our technology generally.

We already understand that other technologies need to be purposefully limited. Nobody, Christian and non-Christian alike, thinks it’s wise to eat donuts all day every day or drink alcohol all day every day (yes, donuts and alcohol are both technically technology); we’d label that as “having a problem.” Do we apply that same standard to our digital technologies?

No—like many in our society, unfortunately, cannot imagine what having fun looks like without alcohol, the next generation increasingly cannot imagine what life might look like with proper boundaries on digital tech. Programs like AA exist for those who need help walking in dominion over alcohol, and programs like Bark, Screen Time, and Covenant Eyes exist for those who need help walking in dominion over their tech.

Alcoholism is a specific type of technological addiction, and society quickly needs to come to grips with another type of technological addiction that will prove to be equally self-destructive.

Open but cautious isn’t merely wisdom, it’s congruent with the story of reality given to us by God in the Scriptures.



Three Ingredients for Faithful Preaching

By / Jul 19

Faithful preaching has three primary ingredients. Creativity and homiletical polish are helpful, but the key ingredients of faithful preaching are preset and established by God. The three ingredients touch on who is qualified to preach, why one should preach, and what one should preach.

Who May Preach?

Though the gospel call is promiscuous, the call to preach is not. In fact, preachers are a conscripted force, mustered by God’s Spirit into service for the church.

As Spurgeon observed, the call to preach begins with an intense, internal, and all-absorbing desire for ministry work.[1] In addition to this internal aspiration, the Apostle Paul set forth sterling character and the ability to teach God’s Word as pastoral non-negotiables (I Tim 3:1–7; Titus 1:5–9).

From man’s perspective most anyone can enter ministry by donning clerical garb, speaking in religious platitudes, and receiving church-based compensation. However, from God’s perspective only those called by his Spirit, qualified by his Scriptures, and affirmed by his local church can preach faithfully.

Why Do We Preach?

 Those called to preach should do just that—preach. Preaching is God’s divinely ordained means of communicating his Word, nourishing his church, and redeeming his people. Other pastoral activities may complement preaching, but nothing should displace it.

God only had one son, and he made him a preacher. Scripture tells us “Jesus came preaching” (Mark 1:14) and then he sent his disciples out to preach. From the prophets of old, to Pentecost, to the end of the age, preaching is God’s appointed means of reconciling sinners to himself.

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.”[2]

Whether in the first century or the twenty-first century, man will find signs attractive and wisdom appealing, but God has always been well-pleased through the foolishness of preaching to save those who believe.

We preach because God ordained it.  We dare not do anything else.

What Do We Preach?

Faithful preaching requires sermons be preached from God’s Word. Both prescriptively and descriptively, Scripture is clear—the preacher’s task is to preach God’s Word. We do not look to the news cycle, social media, or pop culture for sermon fodder. We look to the Scriptures. Illustrations, analogies, and applications can be helpful, but they must illuminate and underscore the text, not distract from it.

Biblical exposition—sermons that explain the text, place it with in its biblical context, and apply it to God’s people—is preferable because God has predetermined not only what, but also how, we preach.

There is a measure of latitude here. Whether the expository sermon is 30 minutes or 60 minutes, the sermon series counted in weeks or years, we can find joy when God’s Word is honored, explained, and authoritatively preached.

“The Bible says” remains the most beautiful refrain in the church house. Explaining and applying the Bible to God’s people remains the most noble—and urgent—ministerial task, which is why Paul’s dying words to Timothy bind and instruct preachers in every generation—preach the Word.

Conclusion

Martyn Lloyd-Jones famously observed preaching is “the highest, the greatest, and the most glorious calling to which anyone can ever be called.”[3] It is too high and too glorious a calling for just anyone to preach just anything for just any reason in just any way. Preaching is to be done by a man, called of God, who is compelled to herald the Bible with full conviction and faithful interpretation.

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[1] See C. H. Spurgeon, “The Call to Ministry,” in Lectures to My Students (repr.; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2014), 23–42.

[2] C. H. Spurgeon, Autobiography, Volume 1: The Early Years (London: Banner of Truth, 1962), v.

[3] Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1972), 9.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at JasonKAllen.com. To learn more from Dr. Allen and other seasoned pastors on faithfulness in ministry, join us on September 23-24 for the 2024 For the Church National Conference, “Faithful: Serving the Most Beautiful People on Earth.”



Prayer, A Sweet Communion

By / Jul 15

The Beginning of Prayer

In the beginning, God breathed His breath into humanity. According to both Moses and Paul, this breath (or Spirit) caused Adam and Eve to be living souls (see Gen 1:7; 1 Cor 15:45).

What does it mean to be a living soul? At the very least, it means that we were created with a unique spiritual capacity to commune with God. But why would God give us this capacity?

The Bible’s answer is simple yet profound: God desires to dwell with humanity. This becomes evident in many places: the Garden of Eden (Gen 1-2); the tabernacle of Israel (Ex 40); the incarnation of Christ (Mt 1; Lk 1; John 1); the New Jerusalem (Rev 21-22); and more. Indeed, the entire biblical story culminates in the fulfillment of God’s desire: “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Rev 21:3).

Thus, prayer can be described as an offshoot or implication of God’s desire to dwell with us. It is a God-given means by which we commune with God—through speech and listening and meditative reflection—this side of heaven. Its great and final end, as noted above, is everlasting and unencumbered communion with God.

The Fall of Prayer

How was prayer affected by the Fall of humanity? Did Adam and Eve’s sinful rebellion eradicate the possibility of prayerful communion with God?

According to the biblical story, prayer continues on, even after the Fall. Indeed, God speaks to Adam and Eve as they hide from Him, and they speak back (see Gen 3:9-10). And yet, a deep tension is revealed in the conversation, a tension which the New Testament calls “hostility” between God and humanity (Col 1:21).

What did this hostility mean for prayer? Among other things, it meant that prayer had become a means not only to commune with God but also to confess sin, to lament suffering in the world, and to seek deliverance from evil in all its forms.

The Restoration of Prayer

After the Fall, how is prayer restored? According to the New Testament, prayer finds its restoration through the person and work of Christ Jesus. On the cross, Jesus put an end to the dividing hostility between God and His people, declaring once-for-all, “It is finished” (John 19:30). At that very moment, the temple veil was torn in two, and the people of God were welcomed back into the presence of God (see Mk 15:38). Prayerful communion with God has thus been restored.

Of course, our end of the conversation still bears marks of the distorting effects of sin. For this reason, we struggle to pray. Indeed, more often than not, we do not even know what we ought to pray for (see Rom 8:26). And yet, in Christ, our weak and feeble prayers are made holy and lifted up to God. As John the Revelator says, “[The angel] was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne, and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God” (Rev 8:3-4). You see, God delights to smell the incense of our prayers. Every single one of them.

An Invitation to Prayer

Regarding prayer, C.S. Lewis said, “God has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created.”[1] In other words, despite the millions and millions of prayers that are lifted up to God every single hour of every single day, God does not get stressed out. At all.

This means that you and I are invited to approach God through prayer at any moment of any day with any thing. From car trouble to stage-four cancer, the timeless God has more than enough “time” to care for you. In fact, He loves to do so (1 Pet 5:7).

Ultimately, the goal of prayer is a sweet communion with God: the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Yes, we might begin the praying life with nothing more than petitions and requests, but in the end, we will receive much more than answered prayers. We will receive God Himself.

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[1]  C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (Touchstone: New York, 1996), pp. 148.



Why Every Church Member Matters

By / Jul 10

Most people don’t know who you are. In fact, most church members are unknown. They aren’t speaking at conferences, writing books, on a website, or being paid. I’ve been at conferences with thousands and thousands of people and less than a dozen on stage. Most Christians are the people in the pew, not the pulpit. But it’s easy to miss this. Even when we read the Bible, it is easy to think of it as a succession of tales of the important: Abraham, Moses, David, Ruth, Esther, Jesus, the disciples. But where does that leave us? What does God say to the average person in the chair? What does God say to the unknown church member or the unknown pastor for that matter?

One way to consider this is to look at all the names listed in Paul’s letters. Why are they there? Why did these otherwise unnamed people get a mention in the Bible? Why did the Holy Spirit in his infinite wisdom believe that these lists of names were useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness? What might God be trying to show us?

1. It takes many people to do God’s work.

Name some famous Christians who are known for their great work. Let’s make it easy; just narrow it down to those named John: John the Baptist, John Chrysostom, John Wycliffe, John Huss, John Calvin, John Knox, John Bunyan, John Owen, John Wesley, Jonathan Edwards, John MacArthur, John Piper.  That’s a lot of famous Johns!

But how many millions of people helped these ministries? There had to be untold amounts of editors, organizers, administrative assistants, people setting up chairs, watching kids, serving meals, cleaning up, managing the money, and so much more. The same is true in our churches. It takes many people to do God’s work.

When we look at Paul’s letters, we see him name around 100 different people. There are deacons, coworkers, ministry partners, friends, and church hosts. God’s work is too big for Paul, too big even for a Bible-writing apostle. There is no way to experience all that God intends for us as his church with only celebrity leaders, senior pastors, and paid staff. It takes many people to do God’s work.

Most of us won’t be the famous ones who speak on the stage or write the epistle, but we should strive to have our name on the list. We should show up, be involved, and be among the many co-laborers that work to build God’s church. We are not owners of our time, abilities, education, experiences, capacity, or gifting. We are stewards. It all belongs to God, and he wants us to use it to serve others in the church. We all have our part to play. God has decided that all of us are important for what he is doing in the church. Your ministry is needed. You are needed.

2. God values your work.

True, it takes many people; but are you just a cog in the machine? If we don’t have the prominent place or position, does what we do really matter? Is our role in the church valuable?

Often we recognize the value of the work being done by the titles given: Majesty, Excellency, Your Honor, Esteemed, Chief, Reverend, Doctor, even Pastor or Director. But what about those who don’t have a title? How does God view their work?

Paul gives many different titles to the normal people in his letters: dear friend, brother, saint, minister, faithful servant, coworker, partner, soldier, dearly loved, etc. These titles help us see the part we play. They help us see how what we do fits into what God is doing. When we do the ministry God has assigned to us, we are doing more than just the task. We are doing more than setting up pipe and drape, printing a bulletin, greeting, changing diapers, running sound, leading a small group, or playing the drums. We are fighting battles, creating family, strengthening relationships, meeting needs, shouldering burdens, fulfilling the mission, and working in the harvest. Ultimately, we are glorifying God by reflecting his character.

You may not have an official title that could be recorded on a resumé, but through Paul’s eyes you see how God feels about the work you do. God sees your contribution. God values your work. Your ministry is valued. You are valued.

3. It takes many unknown people to do God’s work.

Most of us would fail at trying to recall half the names Paul lists. When’s the last time you met a kid named Tryphena or Tryphosa? Or Philogus? Or take another example: who wrote the book of Romans? Most would say Paul, right? But, it was actually Tertius! He was the one who physically wrote down the text (Romans 1:1, 16:22). I know a Tertius. Even he didn’t know his name came from the Bible!

It takes many unknown people to do God’s work. This means it’s okay to be forgotten. We don’t have to leave a legacy. We don’t have to change the world. We don’t have to be remembered. We can serve faithfully and be forgotten.

We know this even with our favorite movies. How many people did it take to make Lord of the Rings? I know the names of the main characters and the director, but I’ve never sat through the credits and watched each name go by. I’m sure it took thousands of people over several years. Likewise, it took thousands of unknown people to build the great cathedrals of the world. It took millions of unnamed soldiers to win the great wars against evil in our world. And it takes millions of unknown volunteers, deacons, staff, and elders across our world every Sunday to love and serve God’s church. It takes countless unknown staff and volunteers for all the ministries serving in prisons, pregnancy centers, orphan care, youth ministries, camps, and every other imaginable good work.

You can play a huge part in history and no one even know it. You can write down the book of Romans and everyone forgets it. You can charge the hill that changes the war and no one knows your name. And you can faithfully serve God week in and week out and never make it on the website. That’s okay. It’s okay that much of our work goes unseen, unnoticed, and unrecognized. Faithfulness is better than fame. It takes many unknown people to do God’s work. Your ministry matters. You matter.

4. God knows each one doing his work.

“…help these women who have contended for the gospel at my side, along with Clement and the rest of my coworkers whose names are in the book of life.” Philippians 4:2–3

Reading this, I imagine a scene where Paul’s letter is being publicly read. You may know the feeling of having your name publicly acknowledged or thanked. It’s a great honor, even in something small. It feels good when we are seen and our name is said. Paul does this for some. The public acknowledgment must have felt good. And, if we were hearing the letter read, perhaps we would be wondering if our name was next. Would all the time we had put into working on that project, or showing up when others were having fun, or serving after hours finally be noticed? Would we be thanked and appreciated? But then after naming two women and Clement, Paul finishes with, “and the rest.” The list stops.

That may be you for your whole life. You name may not even make the list of unknown people. You may be just “the rest.” This may feel disappointing, discouraging, or unfair. We may be jealous, bitter, or unmotivated if our work isn’t seen.

But Paul doesn’t leave it there. It is the rest, “whose names are in the book of life.” That means even though they didn’t get the public accolades, God knows who they are. You may not have statues built of you or museums honoring your life or a biography telling your mighty works for the Lord. Your great-grandchildren may not even know much more about you than a photo in a dusty album. Though history may not remember your name, the one who wrote history does. The church may not see all you do, but the head of the church does. God knows all the overlooked, all the unseen, all the forgotten, all the unrecognized. God knows your name. He wrote your name as belonging to him. Your name is recorded forever in his book. Live for that book. God knows each one doing his work. Your ministry is known. You are known.



Thomas Jefferson, The Baptists, and A Giant Block of Cheese

By / Jul 4

Despite having a widespread reputation for irreligious beliefs, President Thomas Jefferson was a hero to many Baptists in America because he was arguably the nation’s greatest champion of religious liberty. Baptists wanted to convey how delighted they were with his election as president in 1800. A big block of cheese played a major role in the effort. The cheese was four feet wide and 1,200 pounds, made by the Baptist “Ladies” of Cheshire, Massachusetts. They made it, a Republican newspaper noted, “as a mark of the exalted esteem they had of [Jefferson] as a man of virtue, benevolence, and a real sincere friend to all Christian denominations.” Written on the rind was the Jeffersonian motto, “Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.”[1]

The cheese’s escort from Cheshire to Washington was the Baptist preacher John Leland, one of the era’s most influential evangelical leaders and a Jeffersonian zealot. Leland was eleven years younger than Jefferson and a native of Massachusetts. He had experienced conversion and became a Baptist in the early 1770s. Thereafter he began preaching and relocated to Virginia, where he served Baptist churches and the cause of religious liberty. In Virginia he became an ally of James Madison and Jefferson. Madison and Leland reportedly met in 1788, with Leland urging Madison to support a religious liberty amendment to the Constitution. (The original Constitution in 1787 did not include a Bill of Rights.) Leland agreed to back ratification of the Constitution if Madison would promote the amendment in the First Congress. When Leland returned to New England in 1791, he directed his political energies against the established, tax-supported Congregationalist churches of Connecticut and Massachusetts while pastoring in Cheshire.

Critics lambasted the “MAMMOTH CHEESE,” while newspapers punned incessantly about all things mammoth and cheese. This moniker was an allusion to Jefferson’s fascination with mastodon bones recently discovered in New York and his assumption that wooly mammoths still lived in the American interior. One Federalist watched as Jefferson’s supporters paraded with the cheese in a “ludicrous procession, in honor of a cheesen God.” The cheese moved down the Hudson River to New York, then by sea to Baltimore, and finally to Washington, where it arrived at the end of 1801. Jefferson himself had adopted the “mammoth cheese” label when he noted its arrival, saying it was “an ebullition of the passion of republicanism in a state where it has been under heavy persecution.”

We would know less about that religious liberty weekend in Washington were it not for a letter by a hostile Federalist representative, Manasseh Cutler, who disliked both Jefferson and Leland. The congressman reported that Leland delivered a sermon before Jefferson and members of Congress on January 3, 1802. Cutler had reluctantly visited the President’s House on New Year’s Day, where the staff treated members of Congress with “cake and wine” and allowed them to view the mammoth cheese. The Yale-educated Cutler, who was also a Congregationalist minister, thought that the “cheesemonger” Leland’s sermon two days later was a travesty. Leland, a “poor, ignorant, illiterate, clownish preacher,” spoke on Matthew 12:42: “behold, a greater [one] than Solomon is here.” To Cutler, the oration was a “farrago, bawled with stunning voice, horrid tone, frightful grimaces, and extravagant gestures.” No “decent auditory” had ever heard anything like it, Cutler scoffed.

Until the cheese became too maggot-ridden to keep, Jefferson made a viewing of it a standard experience for visitors to his home. He even had a special frame built to hold the cheese together as it aged. But the memory of it reminds us how important religious liberty was to the often-persecuted Baptists of the American founding era.

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[1] This essay is adapted from Thomas S. Kidd, Thomas Jefferson: A Biography of Spirit and Flesh (Yale University Press, 2022).