By Faith, Plant Sequoias

The oak tree over our swing set is forty years old — taller than our maples, cedars, and even its pin oak siblings. Mr. Adams planted it when our neighborhood was still his field and my mom was a kid who ran through it.

Planting a tree is always an act of faith, but it’s also a selfless thing to do. You can’t help but think forty years down the line. I wonder if Mr. Adams knew we’d build a swing set under it; that Trent, Christophe, and I would tie ropes to the limbs and haul up buckets of our things; that Mom’s grandkids would now run to play around its big trunk. Maybe he knew, but probably he didn’t. He just trusted the earth with a seed, and forty years later, kids he never knew are playing in the branches.

There are a lot of people in Hebrews 11 who trusted God with the seeds he’d given them — people who waited longer than forty years to see a harvest. The seeds they planted weren’t so much oak trees as they were sequoias that took centuries to root and branch.

Hywel Jones calls Hebrews 11 “a record of what people did” because the verbs are active and the people are working:

By faith, Abel offered.

Abraham obeyed and left home.

Sarah conceived.

Moses refused and fled Egyptian luxury.

Rahab hid spies.

Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, and put foreign armies to flight (see Heb. 11:32-34).

“Faith apart from works is dead,” says James, and his counter examples are Abraham and Rahab (James 2:21-26). Hebrews 11 shows us a faith that plants and waters and sweats and suffers and transplants if need be. But there’s something missing from the work and stories of these saints (Mr. Adams missed it, too):

Where’s the harvest? When do we read the end of the book, where all the hard, heavy work pays off?

“And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised” (Heb. 11:39).

“These all died in faith, not having received the things promised” (Heb. 11:13).

They lived in faith, and they died in faith, and they never saw kids playing in the trees they planted. But that’s the thing about faith: it takes a shovel out to the field anyway.

God promised Abraham a shoreline of children, yet Abraham took his one grain of sand, Isaac, and just about threw him back into the sea, because he trusted God at his Word when he promised, “I have something better for you.”

Rahab wasn’t an Israelite, yet she hid strangers in her home because she believed the stories were true:

“And as soon as we heard it our hearts melted, and there was no spirit left in any man because of you, for the LORD your God, he is God in the heavens above and on the earth beneath” (Josh. 2:11).

Though she had not seen him, she believed in him, and so God entrusted her – a prostitute – with a child who brought the Messiah one day closer. Rahab carried a seed, even though she’d never see the tree that would bloom and branch and shelter the birds of the air (Matt. 13:32).

Hebrews 11:37 lists those who “were stoned,” like Stephen. Rocks bruised him as he cried: “Lord do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:60). He fell into the dust and died, like a seed that falls into a dark hole. He never knew the man who held his clothes, who watched him collapse, who Jesus blindsided and healed, who wrote letters to the churches that sang with God’s truth. Stephen died at Saul’s hands, but he never met Paul.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24).

Faith is foresight. It’s the assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of what you can’t see. And in the meantime, it’s slow and steady work toward that end, called faithfulness. Before he preached his last (and possibly first) sermon in Acts 7, Stephen served the widows’ tables in Acts 6. Before he died in faith, he lived in faith, because Jesus was just as worthy of his serving food and he was of his stoning.

This is what Hebrews 11 tells us about faith: whether you die by it (you get pierced or beaten) or you live by it (you go to work or feed your kids), the reason and reward for faith never changes:

“[Look] to Jesus,” Hebrews 12:2 commands, “who for the joy set before him endured the cross.”

Jesus isn’t one more saint on the list (though he’s surely an example of joyful endurance in suffering). Jesus is the founder, perfector, and prize on the other side of our longsuffering faith. His death and life are the only reasons Abraham and Rahab and Stephen and every other saint could ever die and live again. Their not-receiving-what-was-promised ended with God providing “something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect” (Heb. 11:40, emphasis added).

And so we continue the story, with Jesus as our “something better.” He’s worth living and dying for, because today’s bit of faithfulness is a seed in a hole — the first sequoia in a forest we just can’t see yet.

“So, friends, every day do something

that won’t compute. Love the Lord.

Love the world. Work for nothing.

Take all that you have and be poor.

Love someone who does not deserve it…

Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.

Say that your main crop is the forest

that you did not plant,

that you will not live to harvest.”

– Wendell Berry



Jesus, the Bread of Life

“I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst” (John 6:35).

John 6 details a fascinating episode in the ministry of Jesus. It is a long chapter and a complex one, beginning with the miraculous feeding of the five thousand. As with all miracles, we are meant to see them as pointers to the signified, Christ himself and his kingdom. Like the parables, the miracles are windows into the life of the in-breaking kingdom of God. But many wanted Jesus to be their performing magician, like a trained miracle monkey or some such blasphemy. The Pharisees often sought signs from him this way, as later did Herod (Luke 23:8). The average Joes of Jesus’ day were rather a mixed bag. It is difficult to know if even all he physically healed were born again. Certainly many were gifted faith and therefore had the eyes to see and ears to hear Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. They received both sign and the signified. Others however seemed content to seek Jesus only for his benefits and not for himself. We see this very clearly in John 6, as Jesus moves from demonstrating to preaching.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”  (John 6:47-54)

Even the disciples grumbled after Jesus said all that.

There are several things Jesus is doing in this miracle and the discourse following. In the miracle, he is first demonstrating his presence as the provision of daily bread from the Father. He is also making the connection between the manna received by the children of Israel in the desert with this provision. But he goes further to say that he doesn’t just provide the manna; rather, he is the manna. In this way he is also raising the specter of antinomianism with many, because faithful Jews weren’t supposed to consume blood.

The way Jesus constantly redirects his culture’s understanding of the old covenant scriptures is an implicit assertion of his authority over not just the culture but their scriptures! Indeed, when the crowd marvels that Jesus taught as one with authority in Matthew 7:28-29, they aren’t just seeing the kind of authority that results from years of study and theological training but the kind of authority that results from being the very author of what is being taught.

So Jesus’ audience was likely familiar with the word of Deuteronomy: “Man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (8:3). We have read that Jesus is the Word of God (John 1:1). Putting one and one together, we get the dual meaning of God’s provision in his word and God’s provision of himself as the incarnate Word of God revealed in the written word of God. It is not bread alone that gives life but the Bread of Life.

And what fascinating bread! “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” Never thirst? How is it that bread might satisfy thirst? The bread of life is clearly all-satisfying.

Jesus has elsewhere referenced his supply of living water (John 4:10), an explicit connection of himself with the promises of Jeremiah 17:13 and Zechariah 14:8. But there is no such explicit connection here. Perhaps it is implied. Or else, Jesus is stating just how satiating the nourishment of his flesh actually is. In context, he widens his command to include both eating his flesh and drinking his blood. There are perhaps foreshadows of the Lord’s Supper here, but at this point Jesus has yet to institute the the Supper, and furthermore, it seems better to say the Supper corresponds to John 6 rather than that John 6 corresponds to the Supper. Calvin appeals to the Hebrew custom of using the word “bread,” as in daily bread, as a figure of speech to mean more generally “dinner” or “supper.” If this is the case, the kind of bread Jesus says he is has a multiplicity of effects.

To come to him in hunger is to receive not just to be satisfied in hunger but also in thirst. The supreme and preeminent Lord of All is in fact the bread that is an everlasting meal, an eternal feast for the soul.

And while Genesis 3:19 prescribes bread procured through the sweat of the brow, the gospel promises bread given freely through the bloody brow of the Son.



When “I” Becomes “We”

I’ve always been independent. Maybe it’s because I’m the firstborn of three children, or maybe it’s my personality, but doing things on my own is my default.

My entire adult life is marked by independence. I moved 12 hours away from home at 18, I established a life in my city, made incredible friends, served my church, completed a bachelor and master degree, held multiple jobs, did internships and leadership training, spent time as a missionary, and traveled to India, England, Scotland, Germany, Morocco, Spain, and 22 different states in the USA. I started writing, photography, played volleyball, read books, sat by a pool in the summer, became a plant-lover, and spent time with whoever I wanted whenever I wanted.

It wasn’t perfect, though. Looking for a spouse was not a top priority for me, but there were difficult days, weeks, and months. My longing for companionship could sometimes feel crushing. Loneliness was not always distant from me, even though I loved the season I was in. I desired marriage, but no matter how much I wanted it, I wanted to steward my time, use my gifts, and make my own decisions more than compromise for a mediocre relationship. My prayer was for faithfulness in my singleness and to use my independence for the glory of God and the good of the church.

Then last year, my whole world flipped upside down. It was tumultuous to say the least. I experienced some of the biggest heartaches in my life and no part of my life went unscathed. My health, friendships, church, family, and job were all affected by some trial, and it was brutal.

Right in the middle of the hardest part of the year, a man who was my very platonic friend for a couple years suddenly became someone I deeply cared about. We launched into a relationship in the middle of October, were engaged on New Year’s Eve, and are now days away from marriage.

I have no doubts or questions that this is the man I should marry – he is far from mediocre and I am confident our upcoming marriage is good and honoring to the Lord. Despite that, one question still lingers in my heart. To walk with obedience into this next season, I realize I must give up something of great value and importance to me. I must give up my independence. Do I really want to give that up?

The ways I spend my time and where I give my attention will be dependent on another’s desires. I am no longer able to say “yes” to spontaneous trips with friends. My finances and belongings will belong to us, not just me. If I’m emotionally exhausted, I will not be able to escape to my room to process. Dinner and groceries are not just about what I want, but about what we do. The way our home is organized and decorated must be conducive to our life, not just mine. Though I always sought wisdom for big life choices, decisions that were once mine to have the final say are now ours for the choosing. Even my text messages to friends are about what “we” are doing on Tuesday night and where “we” live and who “we” are going to invite for lunch. And in a matter of days my body will be covenanted to his and it will no longer be only mine.

I realize that some of you reading this may not feel the way I do if you desire marriage, have marriage, or are content without ever getting married. Wherever your heart is as you read this, I hope to use my current nervousness and fears of giving up independence to shift your gaze upward. I pray whatever God is calling you to abandon for His sake, whatever desires you hold to tightly, whatever wants or preferences He asks you to change, you can offer them up to your trustworthy Father today.

God cares about every single aspect of our lives, no matter how insignificant they may seem.

I often struggle to believe that God really cares about me. Desires continually unmet can lead us to call out like the psalmist “Lord, why do you reject me? Why do you hide your face from me?” (Psalm 88:14)

God actually cares about everything. He is the God who created the earth with intricate detail, knows every inch of it, and cares for all the world. With Jesus’ own words we hear the truth:

“Aren’t two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s consent. But even the hairs of your head have all been counted. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29-31).

The hairs on our head fall every day, and yet God knows them all. He values us with such detail, care, and commitment.

When I feel the pit drop in my stomach knowing so much of my independence is about to leave, I can feel the temptation to wonder if God cares about my love of travel, being hospitable, holding jobs that use my gifts, creating a home, and all the rest.

He sees me and He knows even this seemingly small desire in my heart. Already God shows me that He cares by giving me a man who loves similar things as I do, who wants to see me thrive in my work, and who is also giving up the independence that he loved. My life will not be the same as when I was single, but even though moving from “I” to “we” means that “I” don’t always get what I want, I know for certain God cares for me with an unfathomable love. He may not always give me what I want, but He will always provide exactly what I need. What a gracious gift!

God calls us to obey Him, and His calling always requires self-abandonment.

We are called to obey Jesus, and to follow in his steps on the narrow way. If we belong to God, we are given a new heart, a new life, and new desires. We do not hold to the belief that following Christ means we gain health, wealth, prosperity, marriage, children, and everything else we might want.

“That is not the way you learned Christ!— assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:20-24).

What I want is not the most important thing about me. Rather, what God has called me to do in obedience, what He has laid before me as my path, that is what is most important. Because I am not yet made perfect, I can trust God when He put marriage in front of me and asked me to abandon my independence. He receives my sacrifice as worship. On the days when I struggle most with sharing life, I must remember that everything we abandon for Jesus’ sake will be worthwhile when we see his face.

God orchestrates your life for the purpose of bringing Him glory and loving others.

In a phone call with a mentor several years ago, I heard words that shaped my thinking from then on. She said, “Wherever you are right now in life is exactly where God has you to bring Him the most glory. Until He desires that you bring Him glory somewhere else, that is where you will be. He will move you when He desires and you can trust Him in that.”

In this season of my life, God is moving me to a new season to bring Him glory. My former seasons were not lesser and I am not reaching a new level of holiness by entering marriage. I am simply being moved to the next opportunity to love God and love others.

Simple as it may be, God is moving me from “I” to “we” so that He may receive glory. He received glory in my single life, He will receive glory in my married life. God’s purposes are greater than mine, and I can trust that His commandment to love is of utmost importance.

“Teacher, which command in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and most important command. The second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets depend on these two commands” (Matthew 22:36-40).

I am confident that God is giving me the gift of marriage for His glory and to love others. Giving up my independence for this purpose will not be easy and I will need God’s grace daily. Whatever God is calling you to abandon today will not be easy and you will need His grace, but He loves you, cares about you, calls you to obey Him, and when you see His face in heaven, you will know for certain everything you lost was really gain.



Embracing Cross-Cultural Incompetence

I have some bad news about your dreams of being an effective disciple-maker among the least-reached.

The bad news is this: The messenger is the message, so you won’t be an effective translator of the gospel in a new culture until you translate yourself. And that process is painful.

Here’s what I mean.

Many people who move overseas for missions take language classes and practice speaking right away so they can be understood. They talk when they should be listening, using language to gain control over their foreign environment, because it’s scary to feel helpless. They want to be as competent in their new home as they were in their last. A worthy goal, but a misguided process.

No one wants to be humiliated. Take it from me. The week before I left the U.S., someone told me I was the best expositor of Scripture they’d ever heard. A full year later in Asia, kids were still making fun of how stupid I sounded when trying to tell them why they shouldn’t stand on my car.

Cross-cultural humiliation at its finest.

But this is exactly the kind of humiliation Jesus Himself endured. John 1:14 says, “The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us; and we saw His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

For John, mission was about making God visible. To do that, the Word (Jesus) had to become flesh. He embraced incompetence when He came into our world in a human body, as a baby. Jesus spent nearly 30 years being with us, before He ever began to “do ministry.” He didn’t come to first make Himself understood, but to live among us, to become like us (Hebrews 2:17), to be tempted in every way we are (Hebrew 4:15) — so that He could rescue us.

You see, as a cross-cultural disciple-maker, you are not working to be understood. You’re working to understand.

A few years ago, I met some Americans who had recently arrived in Asia and were deciding how to serve. I offered to get them teaching jobs that would secure their visas and give them an integrated identity in the community. Their response? “We don’t want to work for a local boss because we like to control our own schedules.”

What they didn’t know is that submission to the local way of life, and all it entails, is precisely what translates the message of the gospel. It’s not enough to adapt to local customs. We must also willingly subject ourselves to the forces the local people are subject to, if we want to become a message they can understand.

The apostle Paul says in 1 Corinthians 9:22, “I have become all things to all people, so that I may by all means save some.”

It’s that becoming process that we, as cross-cultural disciple-makers, tend to hurry through or skip over because to become something we must unbecome something else. Not only does it hurt, but the process is almost impossible to navigate on your own. We all need a guide or, better yet, a formative community to walk with us through the trial of becoming less in order to become more.

We must be willing to be people no one understands in order to become people who understand everyone. Only then can we truly convey the message of our incarnate Savior.

This is how Jesus served us, and it’s how we must serve the least-reached.



The Dove’s Descent

Jesus, in the arms of John the Baptist, emerges from the Jordan river. John had gravely warned the crowds of this Messiah. Now is the time for repentance, for “the axe is already laid at the root of the trees…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire (NASB).” Indeed, this fearfully powerful one has come. Jesus was baptized, “and behold, the heavens were opened.” Surely, following John’s depictions, this would be a terrifying display of Divine power and judgement! The earth will quake, the nations will tremble, the waters will boil from the flame! An axe, a pillar of fire, a winnowing fork!

A dove.

What shall we make of this? The symbol of divine descendance is one of gentleness and peace. It is often the glory of God to surprise. John’s warnings were not falsified by the light, white wings of God the Spirit; Jesus repeats them shortly after. Yet, there is a more primary character of God to behold, it seems. His Spirit appeared as a dove.

From the earliest stories in the Bible, doves are associated with peace, new creation, and reconciliation with God. In Genesis 1:2, the Spirit of God is portrayed as “hovering” over the dark and formless deep. As one commentator noted, “Rabbis likened the Spirit’s brooding over the waters in Gen 1:2 to a bird nestling her young, the dove [at Jesus’ baptism] signals the beginning of a new creation.” A few chapters later, God purges the earth of wickedness with a great flood. A dove informed Noah that the waters had subsided, effectively marking the end of judgement. The earth was, in a sense, baptized: the old washed away, emerging as new creation. Early Church figure, Tertullian, thus declared the dove “a herald of peace.” Jesus, Himself, identified doves with gentleness. The theological implications of the Holy Spirit’s avian appearance, included in all four Gospels, are clear and significant. Christ’s anointing in the Jordan river reveals the nature of His mission: peace with God and newness of life.

Of course, ‘gentle’ is not always the adjective that comes to mind when the Lord is beheld in the Scriptures. Without a doubt, there is a severity to God. Disturbingly, Jesus says, “Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Yet, Jesus is called the Prince of Peace! Upon His arrival, the heavenly host declared, “peace on earth.” How can this tension be resolved? I am no biblical scholar, and this is not an exegetical project, but apart from rashly rejecting the Scriptures as contradictory, readers are forced (joyfully) to conclude that counterexamples to the Peace of God are not as they seem. Perhaps we can conclude that peace lies at the end of a treacherous road. Perhaps, though peace is the mission, friction is the means. Perhaps confrontation is required, in the face of chaos and calamity, to accomplish peace. After all, did Jesus not rebuke the raging sea in order to still it? The quiet result, not the harsh word itself, was the reason for Jesus’ action. So too must be God’s actions, though severe at times. As it is written in Isaiah 32:17, “And the work of righteousness will be peace, and the service of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever.”

The relevance of Isaiah 32:17 to our present discussion is multiplied with the inclusion of verses 15 and 16: “Until the Spirit is poured out upon us from on high, and the wilderness becomes a fertile field, and the fertile field is considered as a forest. Then justice will dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness will remain in the fertile field. And the work of righteousness will be peace, and the service of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever.” The same dove-like Spirit that descended upon Christ in the Jordan River descends upon His people! To what end? Peace, righteousness, quietness, and confidence forever! The Christian heart should be notoriously peaceable and gentle. Such is the kingdom of God. Such is the fruit of the Spirit at work within us.

Therefore, we must carefully consider our behavior in our homes, churches, internet communities, and our world. Is our attitude toward enemies defined by gentleness and respect, or hostility and pride? Are we engaging difficulty with peace that surpasses understanding? When nonviolent confrontation is required (as it sometimes is—blessed are the peacemakers, not the separatists), is peace, rather than dominance, the end in mind? Peace, for the Spirit-filled believer, is a paradigm to be applied universally. Indeed, the Spirit of God sanctifies, convicts, and empowers us. But we are not given destructive, vengeful power. Rather, as one commentator put it, we are given “dove power.”



5 Preaching Pet Peeves

It’s not Festivus, but I got a lotta problems with you people!

No, not really. But I thought I would share some pet peeves of mine when it comes to preaching, because I think they are shared by others as well. In the end, those of us who preach want to remove any unnecessary barriers between understanding the word, believing the gospel and the people who are listening. As a preacher who regularly sits under preaching too, I’ve experienced some things that I think have helped me develop as a communicator. Maybe they will provide some food for thought for you, as well.

1. Taking too long to get to the text.

For me, there are few things more frustrating in the beginning of a sermon than hearing somebody start with, “Turn to Book of the Bible, chapter X, verse Y,” and then not actually reading what’s there for minutes on end. I’m sitting there with an open Bible in front of me while the preacher goes on for a very long time telling a story, setting a scene, belaboring some point of context, or even introducing the text without getting to the text itself. The longer your introduction goes, it’s not just irritating, it actually inadvertently can communicate that something other than the biblical text is setting the agenda for the sermon. Text-driven preaching shouldn’t need the tugboat of creativity to get going.

2. Scolding the audience.

“I can’t hear you.”

“You can do better than that.”

“Oh, come on; that’s funny.”

Here and there, this kind of talk is fine. As a steady posture of neediness, it’s cloying. Look, as one who preaches regularly, I know there are few things more demoralizing than preaching to people who seem utterly unaffected or otherwise just not with you while you’re pouring your heart out. But remember, you are not preaching primarily for us, but for the Lord. And remember not to make assumptions about what people are doing or not doing while you’re preaching. When I first assumed the pulpit in a New England context, I thought every week people were mad at me. Turns out that’s just how they look. They weren’t mad at all. They were in fact quite enjoying the sermons. I was making an assumption based on my own insecurity and my own unfamiliarity with my congregation. Similarly, remember that the congregation does not exist to babysit your insecurities or help you work out your own anxieties. We are not there to perform for you. So stop insisting we shoulder the narcissistic burden you feel to be liked, enjoyed, or otherwise seen as compelling. It’s not a concert, and you’re not a rock star.

3. Apologizing for not doing well.

You don’t need to let us know you didn’t have a lot of time to prepare. You don’t have to tell us you don’t think it’s going to be a very good sermon. You don’t have to warn us that you didn’t have time to think through your conclusion. All of this will probably be apparent by listening to the sermon, and it just sounds like whining when you dwell on it. When I was in creative writing classes, I had a teacher who called this phenomenon “the ritual apology.” Basically, before any student read their work out loud, they would always give some disclaimer about how they know it’s not really any good, how they hadn’t had enough time to revise it, how it’s not exactly what they wanted to say, etc. Our teacher made us all just say the words “ritual apology,” before we began reading our work to dispense with the formality of rehearsing all of the reasons for our insecurity. And also because these ritual apologies are annoying and don’t really endear most of us to the work. When it comes to ritual apologies as part of sermons, consider also if these aren’t just ways of communicating that you didn’t think the audience was worth putting in the time and effort to avoid these apology-requiring situations! You’re not just telling something about yourself — namely, “I’m not good at sermon prep or preaching” — you’re also telling us something important about us — namely, we’re not worth consistent effort to do your best.

4. Gospely talk with no actual gospel.

This is something I’m noticing more and more among the current iteration of the gospel-centered tribe. Preachers know they need to include gospel content, but they sometimes end up just kind of orbiting the gospel message without actually getting to the gospel message. They may even use the word “gospel” or other words like “grace” and “salvation,” but remember that the gospel message isn’t summed up in the word “gospel.” We must somehow communicate, at bare minimum, the cross and resurrection of Jesus to actually be presenting the gospel (1 Cor. 15:1-4). You can emphasize different notes in that one song. You don’t have to say the same things every time about each component of the gospel message. You can focus on different facets of that message. But to actually communicate the gospel there’s no getting around the proclamation, in some way, of the cross and resurrection.

Similarly, one of my biggest pet peeves, as it should be all of ours:

5. Cameo appearance Jesus.

Only one step up from no Jesus in the sermon at all is the Jesus who shows up only as quotable quote guy, good example guy, or “it’s the end of the sermon so it’s time to make a cameo appearance” guy. The best (and most biblical) preaching preaches Christ from the text. Obviously some texts present more difficulty in doing this than others. But if Jesus is the point of the whole Bible, we must labor intently in preaching Jesus from the Bible. And preaching about Jesus isn’t always preaching Jesus. Certainly preaching a whole Christless sermon at the end of which we have a “oh yeah, let’s not forget Jesus” moment gives the impression that Christ is a kind of addendum, an afterthought to the Bible, and thus to our own lives. But Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega, the author and perfector, the whole point of everything! Can we learn to preach, then, not as if he’s a featured player but as if he’s the star of the show?

If you’re a preacher, I hope you will receive these in the spirit in which they’re given. I know only hearing about deficiencies in our efforts can sometimes feel demoralizing or otherwise discouraging. But consider from the congregation’s perspective the impact of some of these common practices. Help us better get “the sense” (Neh. 8:8) of the text and more clearly see Jesus. With those aims in mind, perhaps these rhetorical wounds will seem like a friend’s faithfulness to you.



Body Image and a Better Understanding of Beauty

Regardless of age, ethnicity, religion, or socioeconomic status, women around the world and throughout time have faced (and still do) incessant attacks on their souls through lies propagated by the Enemy about beauty and value.

From the deception of Eve by the serpent in Genesis 3, to the isolation and suffering experienced by the bleeding woman in Mark 5, to the worried distraction of Martha in Luke 10, Scripture shows us that there are schemes of Satan aimed at pulling our hearts, bodies, and minds away from the Lord and from each other.

The Enemy does this through distracting from and distorting God’s Word—from God’s declaration of Who He is and who He created us to be. By twisting our attention away from Christ, the One who is most beautiful and valuable, and who bestows those attributes onto us who bear His image, Satan accomplishes his goal of getting us to sin.

One of the main avenues through which the mind is consumed with selfish desire and led away from Christ is regarding body image. Though I have struggled with having a healthy body image for most of my life, sophomore year of college was one of the times where my desire to be “beautiful” almost destroyed me.

That year, I distinctly remember having my eyes on myself more than on Jesus. After countless protein shakes, skipped meals, missed social gatherings, and intense workouts six days a week, it still wasn’t enough. I did not look as becoming as the women in the media. I did not even look as good as the women on my campus. Even as a follower of Christ who knew all of the “right answers” about how I should view my body in light of God’s love, my 19-year-old self stared down the figure in the mirror with disdain and self-loathing. I had embraced the waves of lies that were daily crashing against my soul.

This struggle is not unique to me. And, though I speak specifically to women now primarily out of experience, the struggle of seeking lesser things is a human struggle. When our hearts believe the lie that there is something more beautiful and more valuable than Jesus Christ, our lives will reflect our rejection of that truth. Romans 1 speaks to this reality throughout the entire chapter, but especially in verses 21-23a (ESV):

For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images…

Christian: whether your struggle is with insecurity, lust, pride, or some other futile pursuit, actively pray and fight against the unrighteousness spoken of in this text.

The omniscient God of the universe chose to give His people definitions of beauty and value through His Word. God is beautiful (Psalm 27:4). God promises that His people “shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord” (Isaiah 62:3a). Through Paul’s letter to Timothy, we know that “while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Timothy 4:8). We cannot say that our Heavenly Father has failed to provide guidance for what we should find valuable. Nor can we bemoan that he has failed to give instruction for how to actually behold beauty or even become beautiful. Believer, behold and be transformed by the glory of God! There is nothing more precious or lovely than this.

You have two options: either listen to the lies of satan woven through your culture or listen to the truth found in the Scriptures. In order to help you embrace a more healthy perspective on your body, here are a few more thoughts to cling to when you find yourself struggling:

1. We are to honor God with our bodies (1 Corinthians 6:19-20).

2. We are to give thanks to God for everything—including our bodies (Ephesians 5:20).

3. To the best of our ability, we are to use our bodies to make known our Maker (Isaiah 52:7).

4. We are to remember that we are part of the body of Christ (1 Corinthians 12:27).

I wish I chose to fight with these truths when I stood in front of that mirror a few years ago. I lost so much time and energy to things of so little worth! And what was left in the wake of my pursuit of being thin? A worn body, anemic relationships, and an insipid spiritual state. God wants more for us than this self-centered approach to life. Ask Him to keep you from sulking in thoughts of unsatisfied self-pity.* Ask Him to help you “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5 NIV). Though it may take time, you will find that by the power of the Holy Spirit this practice will help you in a much deeper and lasting way than any self-esteem book or trip to the gym ever could.

Rather than losing our lives to the fleeting siren song of self-glorification sung by culture, may we be people who seek and faithfully follow the clear beacon of truth about our identity in Christ, unto eternal glorification of our Most Beautiful Savior.

*For people who develop eating disorders, these thoughts and patterns of behavior surpass lifestyle choice and develop into an illness requiring medical attention. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, “Researchers are finding that eating disorders are caused by a complex interaction of genetic, biological, behavioral, psychological, and social factors.”[1] Even people who love Christ deeply can develop this illness. If you are one of the many people impacted by an eating disorder, I encourage you (with love in Christ and without any condemnation) to seek professional treatment.

Notes

  1. ^ “Eating Disorders,” National Institute of Mental Health. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/eating-disorders/index.shtml. Accessed March 20, 2018


Called to Die

The church in America today appears to misunderstand what it means to have an abundant life.

Many congregations across the U.S. are hearing messages from the pulpit like, “God has a vision for your life… God has something greater for you… You have untapped potential God wants to unleash.” Pastor Dean Inserra has dubbed it the “new prosperity gospel.” Gone are the days when the nation’s favorite preachers wear suit jackets and slacks, promising instant riches and healing of all your ailments if you just sow your seed and give to their ministry. Nowadays, the country’s most popular pastors wear skinny jeans and expensive sneakers and preach that God wants to give you a breakthrough, turn your setback into a comeback, and make all your dreams come true, if only you claim them and declare them to be.

These “new prosperity” churches believe that the abundant life Jesus promised us in John 10:10 includes job promotions, fancy cars, and Instagram-worthy vacations (God only wants the best for us, right?). But this is not what the truly abundant life looks like. We are not called to follow our dreams or fulfill our destiny. We are called to die.

The Call to Die

During His ministry, Jesus told His disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23, ESV) Christians today see crosses so often—on t-shirts and jewelry, on wall art and bumper stickers, on church logos and chapel steeples—that we can forget the significance of “taking up your cross.” This doesn’t mean that you don your gold cross necklace whenever you leave the house. Crosses were instruments of torture, where criminals suffered and bled for hours as they awaited their death. Those who “took up crosses” in the first century A.D. went through unimaginable, excruciating pain as a consequence for how they lived their lives.

When we’re called to “take up our cross,” we’re being told to expect hardship and persecution as a consequence for choosing to follow Jesus. We’re being called to present ourselves as living sacrifices (Romans 12:1). We’re being called to die (Mark 8:35). And what exactly are we called to die to? Our sins and our desires.

Die to Sin

We’re called to die to our sins. Why? Because this was the express purpose of Jesus’s death on the cross. Peter writes in his first epistle, “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.” (1 Peter 2:24, ESV) When Jesus was crucified, He forgave us of and freed us from our sin. But as we all know, our propensity to sin doesn’t stop when we say the sinner’s prayer. This doesn’t mean that we should become blasé in our spiritual lives and continue sinning. After all, hasn’t Jesus already forgiven us of all our sins? As Paul teaches the Romans, “Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means!” (Romans 6:1b-2a, ESV) We are crucified with Christ (Galatians 2:20), which means we must flee from temptation and kill our sins, before they kill us (Romans 6:11).

Die to Desires

We’re also called to die to our desires. The Apostle Paul writes to church in Galatia, “And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” (Galatians 5:24, ESV). We’ve established that we need to die to our sinful desires, but what about our good desires? Our desire for a spouse. Our desire for a good job. Our desire for nice things. Are we really supposed to die to these?

We are. Paul once called our desires “deceitful.” (Ephesians 4:22) Jeremiah calls our hearts “desperately sick.” (Jeremiah 17:9) Even if it’s a good, innocent desire, it can quickly become an idol. It can quickly cause us to covet what our neighbors have. And even if our desires don’t cause us to sin, they may not be what God would have for us, and we’re wasting our time pining over things that are not in God’s good and sovereign will. Instead, we must lay down our desires and trust and obey the Lord. Like Dean Inserra writes in his book Getting Over Yourself, “The actual road to the greater things Jesus promised is not paved with our desires but with small steps of obedience and faithfulness as soldiers in His kingdom and mission.”

The Truly Abundant Life

It is only when we obey God’s call to die to our sins and die to our desires that we can experience the truly abundant life Jesus promises us in John 10. Paul declares to the Galatian church, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, ESV) Christ is risen, and we now live with him (Romans 6:8, 2 Timothy 2:11). Our lives are hidden in Him (Colossians 3:3).

Denying yourself, taking up your cross, and dying to your sins and desires may not sound like that great of a life. But it really is the best life we could ever live. Author Gretchen Saffles writes, “Dying to yourself doesn’t mean missing out on true life; it means embracing life as it was always meant to be—worshiping God, serving others, and living for his glory. Dying to yourself isn’t the loss of who you are as a person; it’s discovering who you were meant to be—a servant, a sacrifice, and a recipient of God’s grace.”

God does have a vision for your life: dying to yourself. Because it is only when you die that you can truly live.



Is Physical Abuse Biblical Grounds for Divorce?

It seems every week brings into the spotlight yet another church that has failed to carefully handle cases of abuse. As we consider the best way to respond to such sin in our ranks, many wonder about the biblical teaching that should inform our care. One question that repeatedly comes up, of course, is whether physical abuse rises to the threshold of permissibility for divorce.

To put my cards on the table, my short answer to this question is Yes.

Of course, I am of the mind that there are biblically allowable grounds for divorce, though I know that many brothers and sisters of good faith see the same biblical data and come to different conclusions (of what the grounds are or even if divorce is ever allowed in any circumstance). Nonetheless, I think the Scriptures limit the permissibility of divorce (while not in every instance demanding the necessity of it) to cases of sexual unfaithfulness, which in my view includes circumstances of abandonment. In my view, physical/sexual abuse falls into the category of sexual unfaithfulness.

Now for the longer answer, and how I’m arriving at these conclusions:

The Biblical Teaching on Divorce

Direct teaching in the Scriptures on the prospect of divorce is limited to just a few texts, but there number should not be misconstrued as a lack of clarity. While the exegetical issues involved in their understanding has resulted in a variety of evangelical opinions over the years, a reasonable case may be made from the major relevant texts that the Bible teaches that divorce is allowed (though not necessarily promoted, and never mandated) in very specific instances involving “sexual immorality” or abandonment.

The first reference to be considered is Deuteronomy 24:1, which reads, “If a man marries a woman, but she becomes displeasing to him because he finds something indecent about her, he may write her a divorce certificate, hand it to her, and send her away from his house.” Understanding this passage hinges on the meaning of the phrase “something indecent,” which is more literally rendered “the nakedness of a thing.” The import is one directly of fornication—the physically sexual unfaithfulness of one married partner with another person outside the marriage—but the semantic range can include acts like “revealing one’s nakedness,” and even incest, pedophilia, or other sexual immoralities.

Jesus alludes to this passage in Matthew 19:9, where He says in response to the Pharisees’ question about divorce, “I tell you, whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another commits adultery.” The phrase here rendered “sexual immorality” corresponds to the Deuteronomic phrase “a matter of indecency,” and the natural reading of this passage is that Jesus is basically saying, “Whoever divorces his or her spouse, unless on the grounds of sexual immorality, commits adultery.”

Another for consideration comes from the pen of the Apostle Paul, who in 1 Corinthians 7:10-15 addresses an implied question about a believer divorcing an apparent unbeliever:

10 To the married I give this command—not I, but the Lord—a wife is not to leave her husband. 11 But if she does leave, she must remain unmarried or be reconciled to her husband—and a husband is not to divorce his wife. 12 But I (not the Lord) say to the rest: If any brother has an unbelieving wife and she is willing to live with him, he must not divorce her. 13 Also, if any woman has an unbelieving husband and he is willing to live with her, she must not divorce her husband. 14 For the unbelieving husband is made holy by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is made holy by the husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is they are holy. 15 But if the unbeliever leaves, let him leave. A brother or a sister is not bound in such cases. God has called you to live in peace.

In this text, Paul is elaborating on what Christ has taught in Matthew 19 and its synoptic parallels (as well in Matthew 5:32), neither amending Jesus’ words nor contradicting them. Rather, Paul inclusion of “abandonment” here, and other “such cases” (v.15) as a form of sexual unfaithfulness. We may reason so due to his previous admonition in 1 Corinthians 7:1-7 regarding “conjugal rights.”

In summary, the major biblical texts speaking to the issue of divorce (and remarriage) speak to the permissibility of divorce in the narrow case of “sexual immorality” and that in such cases, the offended party may be “free”

And yet, not everything permissible is profitable (1 Cor. 6:12). In no biblical text is divorce ever promoted, much less mandated. The original design of marriage is intended for permanence this side of eternity, and thus even permissible divorce is not always necessary or wise. The impulse for every Christian in a broken marriage, with the Spirit’s help and the gospel’s vision, should be to seek reconciliation if at all possible.

The Theological Meaning of Marriage


The reason even permissible divorce isn’t always or even frequently advisable is the same reason why divorce is only permissible on very narrow grounds in the first place. The Pharisees prompt Jesus’ treatise on marriage, divorce, and remarriage with a question about the ability to divorce “on any grounds” (Matt. 19:3). Jesus roundly corrects that egregious phraseology misconstrued from the Mosaic tradition. He does so first not by immediately teaching on allowable grounds for divorce but by reaffirming the sanctity of marriage:

“Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that he who created them in the beginning made them male and female,and he also said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’?So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate.”  (Matthew 19:4-6)

There are at least two Old Testament texts being referenced here. Genesis 1:27 details the origin of male and female, who we learn are made as complements to each other. Genesis 2:24 speaks to the institution of the marriage covenant itself, where man is called to leave his family, cleave to his wife, and pursue a “one flesh” relationship with her. Jesus’s words in Matthew 19:6, while not a direct quote, may correspond to the image of “violence” done to a “garment” (separating?) in relation to divorce.

Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 7 further enjoin married believers to seek to maintain the relationship if at all possible. Even the unequal yoking of a believer to an unbeliever, he reasons, may result in a vital gospel witness. But the overarching concern for Paul is that God’s intention for marriage be upheld. God designed marriage to be a picture of his own relationship to his people, in fact. Paul in Ephesians 5:22-31:

Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord, 23 because the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church. He is the Savior of the body. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives are to submit to their husbands in everything. 25 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her 26 to make her holy, cleansing her with the washing of water by the word. 27 He did this to present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or anything like that, but holy and blameless. 28 In the same way, husbands are to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29 For no one ever hates his own flesh but provides and cares for it, just as Christ does for the church, 30 since we are members of his body. 31 For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. 32 This mystery is profound, but I am talking about Christ and the church. 33 To sum up, each one of you is to love his wife as himself, and the wife is to respect her husband.

The portrait of marital love here, and the overarching biblical picture of the marriage covenant in a multitude of texts, demonstrates the beautiful reflection within marriage of God and his people and of Christ and his Church. Marriage is meant to bear witness to the union Christ enjoys with believers and to the gracious way He has served and sacrificed for them. Further, the reason marriage is intended for permanence this side of heaven is as a picture of Christ’s enduring commitment to His Bride, whom He will never leave nor forsake (Heb. 13:5).

Divorce has been allowed, Jesus says, because of the hardness of hearts, but “it was not like that from the beginning” (Matt. 19:8). No, the original intention for marriage was a beautiful reflection of God’s everlasting lovingkindness.

Of course, we will not enjoy marriage in heaven, Jesus says in Luke 20:34-26, because we will not need marriage in heaven. Marriage is a gift for this age as a signpost to that age, and when He who is signified finally consummates his kingdom, we will not need the sign any longer. But until that day, men and women marry and are given in marriage primarily as a testimony to God’s grace with us. Because of that, marriage is to be upheld in the highest esteem (Heb. 13:4) and all efforts should be made to maintain the covenant.

Because marriage is a sacred gift from God designed to showcase His glory and grace, it is indeed a weighty thing to contemplate the dissolution of the covenant that joins man and woman together in it. It is for this reason that the grounds for permissible divorce in the Scriptures are not boundless.

Biblical Grounds for Divorce

The modern conception of “no fault divorce” or “irreconcilable differences” does not exist in the Bible’s theological vision of marriage. Some Rabbinical traditions may have exploited an interpretation of permissible grounds entailing “any matter,” but this is not even born out by the Old Testament statutes, much less by Jesus’ clarifying of them or Paul’s exposition of them.

Because marriage is to be held in highest esteem, divorce should not be our first impulse, even in allowable cases. As previously stated, divorce is never promoted or mandated. And yet it is allowed in certain instances. From the biblical texts examined before, we may break them down roughly into two major categories: “sexual immorality” and abandonment. (And, as previously asserted, I would argue that abandonment is itself a kind of sexual immorality as it is bodily unfaithfulness. Sexual fidelity, consider, is not simply a matter of physical intercourse but of commitment, cherishing, and edification.)

The issues are more complex than even that, however, as the word Jesus uses for “sexual immorality” in Matthew 19:9 is as semantically indistinct as the “matter of indecency” in Deuteronomy 24:1 from which he’s quoting. The Greek word behind Jesus’ phraseology is porneia, which has a notoriously malleable meaning. Porneia is indeed a “junk drawer” kind of word, encompassing all manner of sexual immoralities. Given its range of use both in Scripture and in other ancient texts, it can imply fornication (sex before marriage), adultery (sex outside of marriage), incest (sex with a family member), homosexuality (sex with the same sex or sexual attraction to them), and even pedophilia (sex with children or sexual attraction to them).

Paul’s inclusion of “abandonment” in 1 Corinthians 7 may seem distinct on the surface, but he also includes a curious phrase ensuing—“in such cases”—that may also expand either his understanding of abandonment or indicate he is citing abandonment as a kind of sexual immorality or similar permissible grounds for divorce.

Given the nature of these two major exceptions for divorce in the New Testament, it is reasonable to include physical and sexual abuse and even the habitual, unrepentant use of pornography as permissible grounds for divorce.

Physical abuse constitutes a kind of “sexual immorality” (porneia), in fact, because it is direct and sinful bodily unfaithfulness. It is just as much a violation of Ephesians 5 marital nurture as having sex with someone outside the relationship. It is a destruction of one’s body and dignity, and thus a destruction of the vow to protect, cherish, and nurture.

Similarly, obsessive pornography use can constitute the kind of lust Jesus equates with adultery (Matt. 5:28), and the unrepentant and habitual user is in effect cheating on his or her spouse just the same as if they were engaging in physical intercourse outside the marriage. Indeed, pornography use is sexual immorality committed outside the stated bond of marriage.

For these reasons, it is reasonable to assume that the Bible allows divorce only on the grounds of “sexual immorality” or abandonment and that, by implication, there is a limited range of activity, including abuse and pornography use, that may qualify as either or both of the above. In short, sexual or other physical abuse of one’s spouse is sexual immorality, and thus is biblically permissible grounds for divorce.



Church Planting: Our Will and the Lord’s Will

My favorite episode of The Office is—without contest—“Scott’s Tots.” It’s a true test of whether or not you can endure awkward comedy. For the unfamiliar (and brave), the premise is set when Michael is caught unawares in the net of his own making when the time has come for him to make good on a ten-year-old promise to pay for college for an entire class of local, underprivileged students.

The most memorable line comes when he sheepishly confesses to his foolish and reckless ambition: 

“I’m not a millionaire. I thought I would be by the time I was thirty…but I wasn’t even close. And then I thought, maybe by the time I was forty…but by forty I had less money than when I was thirty.”

I laugh. I cry. I cringe…because in my more honest moments, I too, have had similarly foolish optimistic ambition about my future achievements. If you’re thinking about planting a church (or have already started the process), I bet you have too.

The Temple of Man

Psalm 132 is the longest of the Psalms of Ascent. In it’s first half we’re reminded of David’s zeal to build a dwelling place for the Lord:

…how he swore an oath to the Lord,
making a vow to the Mighty One of Jacob:

“I will not enter my house
or get into my bed,

I will not allow my eyes to sleep
or my eyelids to slumber

until I find a place for the Lord,
a dwelling for the Mighty One of Jacob.” (Ps. 132:2-5)

You’ve been called. You’ve done your research. You’ve seen the gospel void that exists in your city and you know God has prepared you to help fill it. In your zeal, however, don’t lose track of the one who has promised to build his church.

You might spend a night or two forsaking sleep to pursue prayer. You earnestly ask God to make a dwelling amongst those in your city. Just make sure to echo Jesus’ prayer that “his will be done, and his kingdom come.” That might mean that the interior walls of that dwelling get painted a different color than the vision you started with. That’s a lesson David had to learn.

There’s a subtle danger in making vows to God that creeps in. In our sacrificing for the Lord, a holy entitlement can catch us in its snare. We would never come out and say, “Lord you owe me for the lost sleep and the time invested in this mission,” but we might let a low grade disappointment settle in when we don’t get results in our timeline. One of the earliest lessons of faith that much of the Christian life is waiting on the Lord applies to church planting as well.

It is, after all, not David writing this Psalm. Instead, his son, Solomon, reflects on the dream that was fulfilled not by David, but by his progeny. Despite all of David’s zeal he had to learn the hard, hard lesson of delayed gratification. In our zeal it’s easy to assume that our plans are the Lord’s plans, but be assured that even the best laid plans of man may not be in the timeline God has in mind (Prov. 19:21).

The Calling and the Timeline

Of the many things I’ve learned from Ed Marcelle, one that rings in my head often is that “a calling doesn’t come with a timeline.” That’s the sort of sober encouragement a church planter needs. God’s calling you to plant a church, right? In your zeal, remember that Jesus spent thirty years in obscurity before starting his ministry (and he was God). Don’t be in such a rush to fulfill your calling that you forget the life of the one who called you.

What if in God’s sovereignty the church you plant plateaus at a healthy 100 people? Maybe the Lord has ordained that you would pour out your life shaping and pouring into someone who will succeed you, and under that guy’s shepherding, a revival breaks out, transforming your city. All after, you’re dead and buried. Would you be content with that?

The timeline for David’s life was that he’d be the father of the one who would build the temple he dreamed about. Those hardships he endured wouldn’t be for naught (Ps. 132:1), but he wouldn’t reap their benefits—his son would. Don’t get tunnel vision on building something great for the Lord and miss out on what he wants to build in and through you.

The Temple of the Lord

The second half of Psalm 132 is truly remarkable. When we pour out our heart’s desires to God in prayer, he responds not necessarily with what we ask for but with what will bring him the most glory and us true good. In verse eleven God responds to David’s oath with a vow of his own:

“I will set one of your offspring
on your throne.”

As if he is saying, “I see your desire to enclose me in a home, and I raise you an enthroned son of your own.” And what follows are promises every pastor should personalize and pray for his own city: that God would desire it as his own (v. 14), eliminate hunger and poverty (v. 15), replace sadness with joy (v. 16), and save us from our sins (v. 16).

The journey of faith (and of church planting) requires endurance and a humility that brings lofty plans to the Lord. But we have to bring them to him with open hands and ask that he take them and shape them according to his will. God has promised us wonderful things, and we might think we have a vision for how we’ll get there, but he’s going to surprise us.

In many ways, we’re like impatient children on a long car ride asking, “Are we there yet?” The Father has promised paradise, the Son has purchased the ticket, and the Spirit has promised to guide us in the journey. But we are intent on taking the steering wheel and confident we know the way.  Psalm 132 reminds us, we don’t. But he does, and we can enjoy the scenic route.

May God increase your zeal, but with it, patience, endurance, humility. Above all, rejoice that even if your best laid plans for the Lord fail, Jesus saw you—once his enemy—and endured the cross to call you his own. Our plan may fail, but his plan to redeem and renew us hasn’t. He was clothed with shame ( Ps. 132:18) so that we could be clothed with righteousness (PS. 132:9). You’ll make countless sacrifices for the advancement of the Kingdom, but the most important sacrifice was already made.