Remember that Kindness Commends the Gospel

Recently I was guest preaching at a church, and a woman came up to me after the sermon and said to me, “You preach with such kindness.” I have not been able to shake that remark ever since (and not just because it was a compliment!). It seemed significant to me for a couple of reasons.

First, the text I was preaching from was Genesis 18:16-33, where Abraham is interceding for Sodom, and “kindness” is not exactly the first impression one would take away from the passage. Additionally, this church conducted two services, and I was concerned after I preached the first that I had not made a significant enough tonal shift from my focus on the just wrath of God for sinners to the good news of Christ’s absorbing God’s wrath at the cross. The first two-thirds of my sermon in fact had a very serious focus on sin, justice, and condemnation. Prolonged and sober, it was perhaps as close to “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” as I’ve ever preached, and I was afraid I hadn’t shifted enough into a more joyous disposition when I got to the climax of the good news.

But the woman’s remark also seemed significant to me, because it was such a unique appraisal. When was the last time you classified preaching as kind? Do you think, by and large, preaching today could be characterized by kindness?

I did receive the remark as a compliment, as I said, and found it hugely encouraging. Kindness is of course an important facet of the pastoral disposition, and preaching is a primary task of pastoral ministry. I think I want to pursue more kindness in my preaching, and I think that, if you preach, you should too. Here are three reasons why:

1. Kindness goes with the grain of the Spirit.

The fruit of the Spirit includes kindness (Gal. 5:22); thus, preaching that can be characterized as kind is aligned with the supernatural power of God. If you want the true power of your preaching to be Spiritual and not simply rhetorical, you will mirror the disposition of the Spirit to those whom he was indwelled.

Preaching can be many other things as well — stern, fiery, light-hearted, or heavy-hearted — depending on the tone of the text being preached, but it should never be un-kind, as the Spirit of God comes with kindness (2 Cor. 6:6). Kindness in preaching exhibits the compassion — the “alongside-love” — that faithful pastors have for their flocks.

2. Kindness is a command.

Micah 6.8Zechariah 7:9Ephesians 4:32Colossians 3:2.

Kindness isn’t optional. We are told to “remember” it, “love” it, extend it, and even put it on. Do not be afraid that preaching with kindness is some kind of squishy softening. It may involve incorporating a more gentle tone to your voice or a more pastoral approach to your content — or both — but it is not, properly applied, the wrong kind of compromise.

Do you always sound mad at your people? (Would they say that, even if you wouldn’t?) If so, why? Remember that the hallmark of the Lord’s shepherds is that they comfort God’s people, speak tenderly to them, and come bearing the message of peace and forgiveness (Is. 40:1-2). And this isn’t a matter of personality types or styles of speaking that you can put on and off — it is a matter of obedience.

3. Kindness commends the gospel.

Do you want your people to be good repenters?

Of course you do. Well, Paul writes in Romans 2:4 that it is God’s kindness that leads us to repentance.

In Titus 3:4-7, Paul describes the good news of Christ’s cross and resurrection as the appearance of God’s goodness and kindness.

Because the gospel is precisely that — good news — our proclaiming of it ought to be filled with the reality that it is the most kindhearted thing ever done by the God whose lovingkindness is forever. If you preach the good news in a frequently boring way or angry way or flippant way, you do not make it sound true. Many men preach the good news in ways that make it sound bad, which is really just a way to make it sound untrue. But if you preach with kindness, you will adorn the saving message with actuality, with beauty and believability.

The gospel’s power doesn’t need us, of course. It is power in spite of us, and the Holy Spirit relies neither on our eloquence nor our emotionality to do whatever he pleases. But because the Spirit condescends to use how we preach the gospel, we ought not forget to reflect God’s kindness when we preach it.



Football and Sanctification

The young high school football player had amazing speed, agility, and moves—and he knew it. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, including his, that he was the most talented offensive player on the field. After a play that did not go well during a full scrimmage the talented running back came back to the huddle and yelled at the offensive linemen, “I’m the only one who can do anything out here. Y’all are nothing! Worthless!”

The head coach charged the huddle and said, “Worthless huh?” Then he told all offensive lineman, except the center, to head to the sideline and take a knee. The head coach sent in a running play to be executed with no offensive line. The running back got swarmed by the defense as soon as he got the ball. The coach proceeded to call another running play, and another, and another. The offense lost 37 yards on the four plays. The head coach called the lineman over and told the talented running back, “Without these guys you are nothing! Worthless! And don’t you forget it.” The response was, “Yes sir, I understand.”

As a young assistant football coach this scene made a powerful impression on me, not just as a coach, but as a man following Christ. Like Paul, I cannot think about my Christian walk without noting the obvious parallels to lessons learned from athletic competition. Here, I hope to point to some lessons from sports that I have been able to leverage for spiritual growth. My hope is that these examples will help you to think more intentionally and profitably as a Christian about your interaction with sports and doing so will be a catalyst toward sanctification.

Humility—Do Your Job!

Football has a way of humbling all who play the game. Team success and growth on the football field is always tied to players humbly accepting one’s role on the team and trusting their teammates to do to do the same. Each one of the twenty-two players on a football field has a particular assignment on each play as they seek to take and defend ground through a series of controlled conflicts. Football is Mozart meets Metallica, no other game combines brute force and elegant choreography the way football does. Famed New England Patriots coach Bill Belichick explains his leadership philosophy in three words, “Do your job!” By that he means do not try to be a hero, just do your job; be prepared, work hard, pay attention to details and always put the mission first.

I consider football the ultimate team sport, and I cannot help but draw parallels between football, the church, and Christian sanctification. For the Christian, humbly accepting one’s role, trusting your team, and doing your job with all your heart, should have a familiar ring. The apostle Paul describes the church as a unified body with many interdependent parts bound together in a common mission of spiritual war.

But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” … If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. (1 Cor. 12:18-21, 26-27)

Paul also explains that believers are called to a personal and passionate commitment to their shared gospel mission. The believer’s life represents their unique and strategic ministry opportunity to serve and grow by making much of Jesus in every circumstance. No one else can do your job of glorifying Jesus with your life. Sanctification depends on humble faith that embraces the actual life that God has given us. After all, “God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble” (1 Pet. 5:5). For if anything is clear in Scripture, it is that in sanctification is a community project and there is never any room for pride.

Daily—The Will to Prepare to Win

Sanctification is the process by which believers are set apart to Christ and grow in likeness to Christ. Sanctification is a primary and daily battleground in spiritual war. The biblical story begins with serpent-inspired conflict in the garden and ends with a glorious celebration of triumphant victory over the serpent in a new heavens and new earth. Growing in likeness to Christ is not simply a matter of a few big spiritual moments. As some sports teams like to say, it is a matter of being all in, all the time.

Anyone who listens knows that the language of athletic competition, especially football, and the language of military combat is a shared vocabulary (blitz, bomb, blown away, formation, trenches, neutral zone, red zone, battle-plan, field general, and so on). There is a sense in which all athletic competition is an artificially designed mock battle. Of course, there is a danger in the co-mingling of sports and warfare language. Actual warfare is horrific, and in comparison, sporting battle is merely trivial. Nonetheless, the shared language can be helpful for the Christian since the biblical storyline is a story of spiritual war. The Bible seizes both military warfare and sports competition as analogies for the spiritual warfare of Christian sanctification.

The lesser and nonessential agony and conflict of sports has lessons for us about ultimate and eternally significant agony and conflict of spiritual war. The church lives as the outpost of the kingdom of Christ in the time of the overlap of the ages, the already/but not yet of the kingdom. Therefore, the Christian lives in the context of a cosmic spiritual battle and is called to fight against sin. According to Paul, if athletes agonize to fulfill determined temporal goals, how much more should he and others agonize to “be strengthened by the grace that is in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 2:1, 3-4)? Both the athlete and the soldier need single-minded focus and the incentive of victory. Each must endure hardship, consistently and agonizingly striving in preparation and disciplined training.

Legendary Alabama football coach Paul “Bear” Bryant was reported to tell his teams, “It is not the will to win the matters—everybody has that. It is the will to prepare to win that matters.” I have heard another coach say that growth comes from making yourself do what you need to do when you do not want to do it, and to do so consistently enough that you want to do it. Walking in line with the gospel does not come to us naturally or intuitively. Rather, we are involved in the daily process of becoming who we are in Christ. Jesus is Lord! Our natural desires are not Lord. In Ephesians, Paul exhorts the believer, “put off the old self” and “put on the new self” (Eph. 4:22, 24). This process of learning to live in accordance to our new identity in Christ is a daily and progressive struggle. I heard a sports psychologist say, “We don’t rise to the occasion, we sink to the level of our daily habits.” That is good counsel for athletes and Christians who want to grow.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at Prince on Preaching



The Necessity of Friendship

Just like anything between two sinful people, friendship can be complicated. Our feelings get hurt. Our expectations aren’t met. We say things we shouldn’t and do things we later regret. But just like anything between two sinful people, friendship is the soil from which grace can abound.

In his great book, The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis said, “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. . . . It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival.”

We don’t need friendship to live, but who would want to live without it?

Lewis’s words tap into what makes friendship the most grace-full of all relationships. It’s the undeserved joy of life that we can all have. Not all of us will be a mother or a father. Some of us lost our parents long ago. A few of us won’t marry even once in our lives. But we can all have friends. In a very real sense, friendship is the only relational assurance any of us have. There are, in all this world, no friend-less people. I dare you to try to find one.

Lewis is right. We don’t need friends. But his point is just the opposite: we actually do. Friends are the most wonderfully unnecessary necessity.

The thing about friendship is it doesn’t reveal itself as necessary until the right time. Friends don’t go on talking about how great of friends they are—at least not when around one another. They just are together. They talk. They don’t talk. They laugh or they don’t. They see each other when they do and they catch up later if they can.

Friendship is, in a sense, the least demanding of all the relationships. In fact, demanding something from the friendship strains the joy all out of it. No one wants a friend always on your back about being a better friend. The beauty is in the there-ness of it, not the definition of the terms. It’s the thing itself that holds the beauty, and nothing else needs to be said.

The lack of demand is exactly the reason why friendship is the most surprising thing in the world when our world falls to pieces. When life is ripped open and our heart lies raw on the ground, it is friendship that always surprises us. The obligationlessness of friendship makes the presence of friends all the more moving when everything else crumbles. Our family has to be there, but our friends don’t. Blood doesn’t tie them to us nor us to them. Something else does—something no contract defines, no witnesses sign off on, and no vested with power authority must approve.

Julie Beck writes about Friendship for The Atlantic. In a column about two friends named Andy and Gabe, she allows them to tell their story of a weekly high five. In 2014, Andy and Gabe started a tradition once a week where they would walk to the park and give each other a high five. Sometimes they’d stay and talk a while, sometimes they wouldn’t. But they did it once a week for six years. Then Gabe got sick and lost his memory.

Andy tells a story about visiting Gabe in the hospital.

Andy: That first week that he was in the hospital, there was a special high-five moment. He was allowed one visitor a day, and I stayed overnight so his wife could go home and be with their daughter. That night, I asked him, “Do you know who I am?” He’s like, “Yeah. Andy. Did I get that wrong before? I’m sorry.” I asked him if he knew anything about the high five, and he said, “No; what are you talking about?” So I told him the basic story.

The next morning he got up to use the restroom. At that point, his short-term memory was really, really bad, so he wouldn’t have remembered the conversation the night before. I said, “Okay, Gabe, this probably isn’t going to make any sense, but on your way back from the bathroom, I’m going to walk toward you. I need you to give me a high five.” He was like, “Okay.” We did it with his left hand because his right arm had all the IV stuff in it.

I started walking toward him, and then right before the high five, he did the clap, and the snap, and I just started crying. I said, “I can’t believe you just did that.” He was like, “Can’t believe I just did what?” It just blew my mind. I didn’t expect him to remember anything about it.

Gabe: That’s one of the things I love about the routine of it. Not just the mechanics of it, but the friendship part of it is so burned into my body memory that that’s what came out.

High fives turned into tears. Weekly walks turned into a night at the bedside. A memory embedded into the body’s rhythmic habits turned into more than a liturgy. What started so child-like took them to the grown-up shores of the darkest of nights—a place to which only friends can travel. Or, perhaps, a place to which only friends will travel.

It is such moments where the realization dawns upon one or another, if not both, that something more has happened over the course of time. Another friend has been joining the two together for more than high fives. It was, as C.S. Lewis puts it as if the Great Friend himself said, “You have not chosen one another, but I have chosen you for one another.”

Such moments clear the air and make one thing certain if nothing else in life is. Friendship is the most necessary thing in all the world. We can survive without it. But we can’t live.

Author’s Note: I’m indebted to Jonathan Rodgers’s newsletter for drawing my attention to the story of Andy and Gabe.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at Things of the Sort



Jesus Wept

Jesus wept. – John 11:35

John 11 records the miracle of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. John tells the story in a series of conversations. The passage begins with a conversation Jesus has with his disciples about the sickness and death of Lazarus. When he finally arrived in Bethany, Lazarus’ sister Marth confronted him. In the ensuing conversation, Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). Then Jesus talked with Lazarus’ other sister, Mary.

Mary fell at the feet of Jesus, consumed with grief. Unlike his encounter at Jairus’ house, Jesus does not question the mourning of the grieving community (Mark 5:39). Here Jesus was “deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled” (John 11:33).

Jesus took charge of the situation, asking, “Where have laid him?” (John 11:34). They led Jesus to Lazarus’ tomb, where he would work a miracle. At this point, John reports a remarkable detail: “Jesus wept.” John 11:35 is one of the shortest verses in the Bible. The verse is short in words but long in meaning. It is an ocean of truth in a teaspoon of words. The weeping Jesus is a comforting truth.

Jesus wept as a man. John records seven miraculous “signs” that prove the deity of Jesus. Raising Lazarus from the dead is the final and climactic miracle Jesus performed that identifies him as God in the flesh. Yet the one who was God enough to raise the dead was man enough to weep with the grieving. Jesus was a real man. Jesus was a perfect man. Jesus was a divine man. Yet Jesus wept. When life makes you cry, you are in good company!

Jesus wept, despite what he knew. Well-meaning Christians say to the grieving, “Don’t cry. You knew where your loved one is.” Jesus knew Lazarus was in a place where sickness afflicted him no more. Yet Jesus wept at his graveside. Jesus also knew that the death of Lazarus would bring glory to the Father. Furthermore, Jesus knew that he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. Yet with all Jesus knew, he was still moved to tears by the situation.

Jesus wept as our example. We short-circuit our prayers because we do not pray candidly. We pray filter prayers rather than praying candidly. This is not how Jesus prayed. The Lord prayed to the Father with tears in his eyes. But he was not just weeping for himself. He cried with for and with others. The tears of Jesus remind us that it is not unspiritual to weep, grieve, and mourn. Christians do not sorrow as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

Jesus wept because he cared. As Jesus wept, the people said, “See how he loved him!” (John 11:36) Jesus wept because he cared about the living – Mary and Martha. Jesus wept because he cared about the dead – Lazarus. Jesus wept because he cared about sin that causes pain, death, and death. The compassionate heart of Jesus has not changed. He cares for you! Peter bids us to be “casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).

Jesus wept before he performed a miracle. Paul exhorts the saints to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15b). We can often do nothing more to comfort the hurting. Yet Jesus wept before he did something about the situation. Standing before a giant scoreboard that flashed “Death Wins,” Jesus declared himself to be Lord over life, death, and the afterlife (John 11:25-26). Death is no real threat to the one who trusts in Jesus.

At the tomb of Lazarus, Jesus gave three commands. “Take away the stone” (John 11:39). “Lazarus, come out” (John 11:43). “Unbind him, and let him go” (John 11:44). Lazarus was restored to life and became a walking testimony that of the difference Jesus makes. Christ is the Lord of life.

In resuscitating Lazarus, Jesus brought his dear friend back to a world of sin, suffering, and sorrow. He who is the resurrection and the life takes those who believe in a world where there is no more sin, despair, and suffering. There is the living hope in our risen Savior. Jesus cares for you. Jesus knows what he is doing. Jesus can help you.

After declaring that he is the resurrection and the life, Jesus asked Martha, “Do you believe this?” (John 11:26) Jesus issues this call to personal, present-tense, and persevering faith to you and me. Do you believe?

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at hbcharlesjr.com.



5 Ways to Encourage Your Pastor

Very few people understand the weight of shepherding God’s people within the local church. It is a high calling of the Lord. To be sure, it is so difficult that, at times, the only thing that sustains a pastor is his calling from God. Even still, we live in a day in which faithful and true shepherds experience a high rate of burnout, depression, or leave the ministry altogether. We live in a fallen world where sin knows no boundaries, sheep within the church bite, wolves have crept into local churches, and life is just hard. All of these factors make the work of pastoring God’s flock an immensely difficult task.

As a pastor, I’m personally thankful for encouragers in the local church. These individuals are often the wind within my sails, much like Onesiphorus for the Apostle Paul (2 Tim. 1:16). So, with that in mind, here are five practical ways which you can be an encouragement to your pastor. Know this: whether he tells you or not, your pastor needs your encouragement!

1. Pray for Him

The work of pastoring is not only mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing, it is also spiritual work. Often the pastor is on the front lines of waging against spiritual warfare. He can often see how the Lord is working within the church and how the enemy is attempting to trip up, grab a foothold, or lure away disciples. We battle not against flesh and blood but against spiritual forces in the heavenly places (Eph 6:12). On top of this, most pastors know they are not able enough or skilled enough to lead the church in their own power. He needs the help of the Lord, but also the help of other godly men and women to help him as he leads. If he is serving in a church where he is the only pastor or elder, he likely feels alone and solely responsible for shepherding the church. If he is blessed to serve alongside other pastors, the weight is certainly dissipated but still felt.

The Apostle Paul also experienced the weight of pastoring (2 Cor. 11:28). It’s a heavy load, and we haven’t even begun to mention other important aspects of the pastor’s life and calling; his own personal holiness and walk with Christ, his family, and personal struggles. One of the greatest gifts you can give to your pastor is a commitment to pray for him. Let me encourage you to go one step further. Let him know as often as you do pray for him. Let him know how you are praying for him. It will bless his heart and refresh his soul.

2. Get to Know Him

The pastorate can be a demanding and consuming vocation. You are always on call, and it can be challenging to get away. Yet behind every pulpit, suit, and tie, behind every manuscript or sermon outline, in every office desk of the pastor sits a man who in many ways is just like you. He has hobbies and interests. He has a family. There are things he likes and things he dislikes. He has quirks that can often be the fixation of his critics. He has a heart, he probably has needs, and he certainly has feelings. He hurts like you and is doing his best to live a life honoring to Christ. Believe it or not, he probably wants to laugh and, for once, be able to let his guard down and not be taken so seriously all the time.

Bottom line: he’s a person. Honestly, he is someone you would probably enjoy if you took the time to get to know him, without placing expectations or assumptions about who you think he may be or what you want him to be. Instead, simply let your pastor be himself and get to know him. Invite him to lunch. Have his family over for dinner. Ask if he and his family would like to join you in an evening of fun together. Find simple ways to get to know the person God has called to be your pastor. Even better, grow to love him, and don’t be afraid to tell him that. Every Sunday, as Ms. Wynell Pierce is leaving church, she greets me with a handshake or a warm hug, only to say, “I love you, pastor, and we love your family!” She means it, and I know she does. It means the world!

3. Know He Loves You and is For You

God does something special in the heart of a true shepherd. He gives him a genuine love for the flock entrusted into his care. In the same way, we should love our pastor. It is important to know that your pastor loves you as well. He prays for you, and he desires for the Lord to bring about his purposes in your life. He wants you to grow and mature into Christ. He is thrilled in your excitement, and he hurts with you in moments of pain. He has a vested interest in your spiritual growth and maturity. For did you know that one day, your pastor will stand before the Lord and give an account for you? (Heb 13:17).

Your pastor in every way is a “soul doctor.” He is to keep watch over your soul. He wants what is best for you. Yet, that doesn’t mean he will always prescribe to you what you believe is best for you. Sometimes the Lord may even use your pastor to speak a word of truth you do not want to hear in the moment. Sometimes his sermons may even “step on your toes.” I can promise you this, my aim in preaching is never to offend. I have no joy or desire to step on anyone’s toes or hurt anyone. Yet, I also pray the Lord will pierce hearts, and that, my friend, hurts worse than a stubbed toe. It may be tempting to become frustrated, angry, and recoil from your pastor in those moments. You may even think he is against you. Hopefully, that is not true. The Lord uses the preached word and your pastor as a strong voice for you to consider your ways before the Lord and to repent. That is likely the aim of your pastor, your sanctification (1 Thessa 4:3). This was the Apostle Paul’s aim and prayer as well.

One thing I can say without hesitation and with complete sincerity in my heart: I love the flock the Lord has entrusted to me. I love those who have left and have gone to other churches. I even love those who have hurt me.  Sheep bite from time to time. I love them because Christ has called me to love others, and as pastor he continually increases my ability to love the flock. For is this not how the world will know we belong to Christ, that we have love for one another? (John 13:35)

4. Extend Grace to Him

It may come as a surprise to you, but your pastor sins just like you. He has questions, doubts, and even fails in faithfully following the Lord. Just like you, the Lord is at work in your pastor, sanctifying and conforming him to the image of Christ. He has bad days, sometimes looks back in regret, and often wishes he would have responded differently to situations. Your pastor is not perfect.

Far too many pastors live under and within what is called a “glass house.” People often look on and wait for him to stumble. They hope to catch him in a moment of weakness or when his very real sin nature, which we all have, is finally exposed. Moreover, that same spirit is often impressed on to his family too. His wife and children better not miss a beat, always be on their “A-game,” and never let anyone down.

Know this, give him time, and I promise you your pastor will let you down. In time, he will do something that fails to meet the standard of your expectations. Give it enough time and I promise the opportunity will come in which you can write your pastor off as a disappointment. Because he’s not above sin, and he is also not above even sinning against you. What do we do in those moments? Sure, we could write him off, talk about him, leave the church, or call for his resignation. Though, I doubt we would want that for ourselves. May I lovingly suggest that you extend to him the same thing you desire when you fail? Grace! Just like you, he’ll never be beyond the need of grace in this life.

5. Support and Follow Him

Not only is the ministry challenging, but ministry can be lonely. Often, a pastor’s decisions are met with suspicion, questions, or outright resistance. Sometimes what is clearly the path ahead is charted with difficulty. Sometimes the change required to move forward is met with insistence to see that the needed change never comes, or certainly not without a fight. In moments like these we need others to stand with us! The truth is we need others to lock arms with us in both the good and bad moments of ministry.

I remember the words from one of my deacons like it was yesterday. It was during a particularly difficult season of ministry, and I’m sure he could sense or see the hardship of pastoring I was walking through. Over lunch, to the best of my recollection, he said these words to me: “Pastor, I want you to know that I am with you. I am behind you and I’m standing with you. I agree with everything you are doing. It’s biblical and the right direction for our church. I also know it’s tough; these have been some difficult days, but don’t you quit! I support you, and I am with you, brother.” It’s difficult to adequately express all the ways the Lord used the words of this godly man to refresh my heart and spirit, but I can assure you it was timely and life-giving to my weary soul. In time, these were proven to be more than words.  He lived these words out before me, time and time again. It’s made all the difference!

Do you want your pastor to remain strong? Sometimes, it will be difficult for him to lift his arms in battle (Ex. 17:12). See to it that you come to his aid and help him in his weakness! Do you want your church to be a strong church? A healthy church? Sometimes, this requires going against the grain or what has been the norm for a long time. Let me encourage you to get behind the man who God has sent to shepherd His local church. Support your pastor, build him up. Encourage him to stay the course, let him know you are with him, standing alongside him, and are following him as He follows Christ. When that happens, get ready and watch what the Lord will do in your church!

 

We have opportunity for a lot of things, beloved. When things don’t go our way, we may be tempted to become frustrated and voice our disappointment about your church or your pastor. In the flesh, you can use these moments as an opportunity to tear others down and build yourself up in return. Don’t be surprised when that feeling even feels justified. But remember this before you speak a word of criticism or when you are tempted to voice your discontentment about your pastor, or about the way you feel things are going: know your support and encouragement will go a lot further in bringing honor to Christ, blessing your pastor, and edifying the church (Eph. 4:29-32). I think we can all agree that we’ve done enough tearing one another down.  May this year be the year we seek to build one another up.



Jesus is Not a Proxy

I usually don’t care to debate the theological opinions I hear on the radio. This is mostly because I believe Christian radio hosts are simply trying to love Jesus, love people, and do some encouraging things in the world. Furthermore, they do not seem to offer their opinions as though they believed they were the official teachers of the church universal.

Every now and then, however, someone says something that causes me to say, “No!” In my head, this is usually followed by a little bit of debate with whoever said what they said. In this hypothetical interaction, I often attempt to offer a bit winsome correction. To be honest, though, this is simply an exercise that helps me get my own head around why I think what I just heard is out of theological bounds.

The other day I was driving down the road and listening to a Christian radio station somewhere in Wisconsin. I do not remember what song had just played and, honestly, I do not recall much of what was going on. However, at one point the host said something along these lines:

“When we spend time with Jesus, by proxy we meet with God.”

When I heard that, I paused. I immediately knew something was off. But I wanted to be sure, so (at the next stop), I looked up the dictionary definition of proxy to see if it meant what I thought it meant. Here are the definitions of proxy via Merriam-Webster.

First, Webster provides the “essential meaning.”

  1. A person who is given the power and authority to do something (such as vote) for someone else;
  2. Power or authority that is given to allow a person to act for someone else.

Then, a fuller meaning is provided. The problematic language within the “essential meaning” and the “fuller meaning” is simply that a “proxy” acts as a “substitute…for another.” The idea of being a proxy is that the proxy represents and acts for someone else, for someone they are not. For instance, imagine if it were legal to allow your spouse to vote in your place during an election. I might give my wife the right to cast my vote if I’m unable to do so due to sickness, travel, or any other unforeseen circumstance. She acts on my behalf yet she is not me. Or, perhaps, imagine I have given power of attorney to her so that she can sign a document for me. She again acts on my behalf but she, again, is not me. We are not the same person.

If that is the meaning of proxy, then the host of the radio show has said in essence that when you meet with Jesus, you meet with God via someone who acts on God’s behalf but is not God himself. At least this is the implication of the words, even if this was not the intent. He did not say that when you meet with Jesus, you meet with the Father via proxy. There is perhaps a way we could nuance that to make it work, since the Son is not the Father, though they are one in essence. But, even there, the Son and the Father, along with the Spirit, are without division. To meet with the Son is to be with the Father and the Spirit. However we might have parsed out that idea is beside the point. The host said that when you meet with Jesus, you meet with “God via proxy.” That does not work, because to meet with Jesus is to meet with the God of the Cosmos.

The Bible is abundantly clear on the identity of Jesus Christ. He is no mere mortal. Jesus is God of very God, while also being fully human. When we talk of Jesus, we speak of the one in whom perfect deity and complete humanity are joined together without mixture or confusion.

The Gospel of John paints the picture as clear as any portion of the Bible. As soon as John opens his Gospel, the deity of Jesus flies off the page.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:1-5)

In the context of John, the Word is a reference to Jesus (John 1:14). John opens by pointing to the creation account in Genesis, letting the reader know that this Jesus, though recently born of a woman, was there when the world was created. He was with God at the start and, in fact, “was God.” Being God, he is the agent of creation and had life in himself. He was, then, the a se Word (from where we get the idea of aseity).

One of the clearest statements of the deity of Jesus comes in John 8:58. In that passage we find one of the “I am” statements that results in the crowd wanting to throw rocks at Jesus. They understood his words to be blasphemous. Here is the context of Jesus’ statement in 8:58:

Are you greater than our father Abraham, who died? And the prophets died! Who do you make yourself out to be?” Jesus answered, “If I glorify myself, my glory is nothing. It is my Father who glorifies me, of whom you say, ‘He is our God.’ But you have not known him. I know him. If I were to say that I do not know him, I would be a liar like you, but I do know him and I keep his word. Your father Abraham rejoiced that he would see my day. He saw it and was glad.” So the Jews said to him, “You are not yet fifty years old, and have you seen Abraham?” Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.” So they picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple. (John 8:53–59)

Jesus had talked about believing in him and escaping death (John 8:52). The Jews thought he was out of his mind, since even Abraham had tasted death. Surely this boy from Nazareth did not believe he was greater than Abraham, right? Jesus uses this as an opportunity to tell them that Abraham had looked forward to seeing the day of Jesus and was glad it had come. But how could this be, since Jesus was “not yet fifty years old” (John 8: 57)? This gave Jesus the chance to assert his eternality. He tells them that before Abraham existed, “I am.” The words he used are ἐγὼ εἰμί, the same words used in the LXX for the name of Yahweh in Exodus 3:14, where Yahweh reveals his name to Moses. The implication is clear to the original audience of Jesus’ words. So, they pick up stones to kill him. The one John says “was God” in John 1 is claiming to be God in John 8.

And the disciples of Jesus had come to believe this themselves. They had left everything to follow him. Even Thomas, who we call “Doubting Thomas” today, came to see Jesus as Lord and God. After Jesus had been raised from the dead and finally revealed himself to Thomas, the only words Thomas can muster are words that affirm the lordship and deity of Christ. Thomas exclaims, upon seeing the resurrected Jesus, “my Lord and my God” (John 20:28).

This, then, is the faith once for all, delivered to the saints. Passed down through the ages, the deity of Jesus Christ is a non-negotiable point of Christian doctrine. Thus, Christians around the world have confessed this in creeds and confessions. The Nicene Creed, recited by churches around the globe, professes the deity of Jesus.

I believe in one God,

the Father almighty,

maker of heaven and earth,

of all things visible and invisible.

I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ,

the Only Begotten Son of God,

born of the Father before all ages.

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father;

through him all things were made.

In Nicene language, Jesus is “begotten” and “born,” but not “made.” He is “true God from true God…consubstantial with the Father.”

At Bethlehem College & Seminary, where I currently serve, we devote space in our Affirmation of Faith to upholding the complete deity and perfect humanity of the Son.

Article 1: We believe in one living, sovereign, and all-glorious God, eternally existing in three in­finitely excellent and admirable Persons: God the Father, fountain of all being; God the Son eternally begotten, not made, without beginning, being of one essence with the Father; and God the Holy Spirit, proceeding in the full, divine essence, as a Person, eternally from the Father and the Son. Thus each Person in the Godhead is fully and completely God.

Article 6: We believe that in the fullness of time God sent forth His eternal Son as Jesus the Messiah, conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary. We believe that, when the eternal Son became flesh, He took on a fully human nature, so that two whole, perfect, and distinct natures were inseparably joined together in one Person, without confusion or mixture. Thus the Person, Jesus Christ, was and is truly God and truly man, yet one Christ and the only Mediator between God and man.

With Christians across time and throughout the globe, we uphold and profess and delight in the reality that Jesus, the one who died in our place to make atonement for our sin, could sympathize with us in our weakness because he was truly a man (Hebrews 4:15). And he could make full atonement for our sins, not because he acted on behalf of another as some type of proxy, but because he was God of the very God.

This, then, is perhaps why I was moved to sit down and give more attention to the words of the host on the radio. Calling Jesus a “proxy” of God is no light matter.

It seems to imply, if we take the words seriously, that Jesus acts on behalf of God but is not God himself. If this is true, we lose something we cannot lose. If we undercut the complete deity of Jesus Christ, if Jesus is not God, as John asserts and Jesus himself declares, and if he is not “my Lord and my God” as Thomas exclaims, then we have no hope. We have no gospel. Jesus is able to die in our place and reconcile us to the Father precisely because he is the divine Son of God, worthy to atone for the sins of all who would believe in him.

I do not know if the host simply made a mistake or if he really believed what his words implied. I’ll likely never know. However, I do know that our words matter. When we talk about Jesus, when we use language to describe the King of the Cosmos, let us do so in ways that uphold the Bible and guard the faith once for all delivered. Let’s do so in order that the nations would see Jesus for who he is. And in seeing him as Lord and God, our prayer is that they would turn to him in faith, being saved from sin and death and reconciled to God, their “exceeding joy” (Psalm 43:4).



“Cannabis is in the Bible?”: Debunking an Interpretative Myth

“The Bible includes cannabis as part of the worship of Yahweh!” Marijuana advocates often repeat this claim in an effort to gain leverage for the moral permissibility of smoking pot. The claim is so strange and peculiar, pastors, church leaders, and parents can be caught off guard and find themselves ill-prepared to answer this bit of cannabis urban legend. Does the Bible mention cannabis as part of worshipping the LORD? The short answer is, “Absolutely not.” But understanding the origins of this claim and the confused arguments behind it can help us to point our teenagers and young adults towards holiness.

The claim that cannabis is mentioned in the Bible originates in the work of Polish anthropologist Sula Benet (1903-1982) who earned a doctorate from the University of Warsaw, where her thesis was titled, “Hashish in Folk Customs and Beliefs.” She also earned a PhD at Columbia University in 1943 and went on to teach at Hunter College in New York City. Lecturing in Warsaw in 1936, she first proposed the idea that cannabis is mentioned in the Bible, an assertion she continued to repeat throughout her academic career. Modern cannabis advocates who announce “Marijuana is in the Bible!” almost always have Benet’s research in mind.

Why would Benet make such a claim? She arrives at this erroneous conclusion via a very sloppy word study. In Exodus 30:23 -24, God instructs Moses to make incense for worship and gives the ingredients, saying, “Take the finest spices: of liquid myrrh 500 shekels, and of sweet-smelling cinnamon half as much, that is, 250, and 250 of aromatic cane and 500 of cassia, according to the shekel of the sanctuary, and a hin of olive oil.” The Hebrew phrase translated “aromatic cane” by the ESV in Exodus 30:23 is qanēh-bōśem. Playing fast and loose with the background of other words in Sanskrit, Assyrian, Persian, and Arabic, Benet essentially claims the Hebrew term qanēh-bōśem sounds a lot like the word cannabis, and thus, “Voila! Cannabis is in the Bible!”

Benet’s bizarre assertion is not substantiated by the definitive Hebrew lexicon, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, which says the term qanēh-bōśem is referring to a type of balsam oil.[1] Balsam simply refers to aromatic resins derived from certain plants, and not cannabis.

Benet’s is the sloppiest form of research, connecting the Hebrew term qanēh-bōśem to cannabis because they remotely sound alike. She brazenly asserts, “In many ancient languages, including Hebrew, the root kan has a double meaning—both hemp and reed.” This is not based on any evidence in the Hebrew itself, but from references to the similar sounding word cannabis used centuries later in Greek along with much later references from the Jerusalem Talmud. This is what D. A. Carson calls the fallacy of semantic anachronism: Benet is reading a later use of a similar sounding word or words back into the meaning as found in Exodus.[2] More bluntly, Benet is profoundly wrong: Just because words in two different languages happen to sound alike doesn’t necessarily require them to have the same meaning. No lexicon supports Benet’s interpretation; modern commentaries do not take her seriously.

Bad ideas used to support popular causes rarely go away quietly. Benet’s careless word study was taken even further by Canadian cannabis advocate Chris Bennett who insists the same cannabis-based ingredients Benet says were in the incense of the temple were used by Jesus’ apostles. When Mark 6:13 says Jesus’ twelve apostles “were anointing with oil many sick people and healing them,” Bennett insists the apostles used a cannabis-based oil to heal people.[3] Bennett then claims the early church followed this model and used cannabis-based products to anoint the sick (James 5:14).

Bennett’s claims are complete and utter nonsense and demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding of anything closely related to the historical background of the New Testament. His argument is ever so weakly based on Benet’s academic madness. The Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, the definitive lexicon of New Testament Greek,simply defines the word for oil in Mark 6:13 as “olive oil.”[4] The oil used in Mark 6:13 and James 5:14 was certainly olive oil, and serves as a symbol of the presence, grace, and power of God.[5] No lexicon mentions cannabis as an interpretative option for the Greek word for oil. Bennett’s assertions have absolutely no traction with Greek scholars.

Refuting the absurd claims that cannabis is the Bible gives us an opportunity to teach our churches how to weigh the validity of sources used in moral argumentation. Benet was an anthropologist, not a linguist. Though pro-marijuana websites repeat her claim, the lexicons do not. Chris Bennett is not a Greek scholar, but someone who wants marijuana legalized. Just because an assertion about the Bible is published in a journal or gets repeated on a website does not mean the claim is valid. A sound principle of Biblical interpretation is this: the text cannot mean now what it did not mean then. Neither Exodus 30:23 nor Mark 6:13 referred to cannabis then and the text does not have cannabis in mind now.

 

[1] Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, vol. 1,  Walter Baumgartner and Johann Jakob Stamm, rev., M.E.J. Richardson, trans. and ed. (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 163

[2] D. A. Carson, Exegetical Fallacies, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1996), 33.

[3] See Chris Bennett, “Was Jesus a Stoner?,” High Times February 1, 2003.

[4] The Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, Frederick William Danker, ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 313.

[5] James A. Brooks, Mark, The New American Commentary (Nashville: Broadman Press, 1991), 102.



No Insurance for Broken Hearts

Last year, I enrolled in health insurance for the first time. Being the first time, I was struck (perhaps a little too much) by all the ways I could be physically inconvenienced. It was exhausting to imagine all the kinds of pain or debt I could accrue and decide which possibilities I wanted to alleviate with the insurance’s options.

Sometimes I wish there was insurance for broken hearts like there are for broken bodies. What if something guaranteed to mend our fractured lives and pay some of the cost?

To this question, an apt theologian might remind me of future glorification. One day, every broken thing will be refashioned in the new heavens and the new earth. That day will be “beyond comparison” with today’s disappointments (1 Cor. 4:17). This is true.

But to broken hearts, future glorification is just that—it’s in the future. And as the chasm between our desires and our reality widen, future glorification feels farther and farther away. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Prov. 13:12).

The Prognosis of Despair

Disappointment threatens to inflict the disease of despair, whether it’s the kind that keeps us under the covers too long or the type that follows the advice of Job’s wife, deciding to “curse God and die” (Job 2:9). If life has been a string of breakups, childlessness, adoptions that fell through, hospital visits, severed relationships, job switches, moves, or whatever has continually let you down, Job’s wife can appear to have the logical option. The prognosis of despair is, “Why go on?”

The Diagnosis as the Cure

For those of us interested in trusting God despite heartache, we may feel the prognosis of despair, but we don’t give in to its gloomy trajectory. We know the truth and trust God’s character.

Believing our circumstances come from a good God instead of random fate, we may try to explain the reason behind our disappointment. This happened so my pride could be revealed. This happened because I loved a particular thing or myself more than God. This happened so God could give me something different, something better. This helped me serve others experiencing the same suffering. Even though such explanations may be true or partially true, they pose the diagnosis as the cure for disappointment. If I only knew “why,” everything would be fine.

Would it be?

The Façade of Self-Insurance

To avoid the question altogether, we might calculate our time and resources to avoid the possibility of ever experiencing what could hurt or cost us. This is a kind of self-insurance. If I build enough walls between me, other people, and my expectations, I’ll be safe from disappointment. I’ll protect what I have and won’t lose anything.

MJ’s motto in Spiderman: No Way Home is: “Expect disappointment and you will never be disappointed.” I love Marvel’s rendition of MJ, but I think she’s lying to herself (and to us) with this idiom. No matter how hard we try to be invincible to disappointment and press on, our hearts will always be broken by a broken world, and we can only maintain the emotional stoicism for so long.

We can expect disappointment, but we will still be disappointed.

 

Human beings weren’t made to expect disappointment, but rather perfection, beauty, truth, and satisfaction in God. We were not made to be banished from his presence in Eden, and yet this is where we find ourselves.

In between the old and the new Eden, there’s no insurance for broken hearts.

Nothing in this life will save us or reward us for heartbreak.

Future glory will keep us from falling off the cliffs of despair, but it will not always assuage the things that drive us to the edge. Our logical deductions as to “why things are the way they are” won’t give us the answers we need, because we are not God (Ro. 11:34; Job 38). And as hard as we try, we cannot fake our way out of heartache. There is no stoic superglue strong enough to keep our heart in-tact after the fall.

The theologian is right—we are promised healing and compensation for our disappointment at the end of time. But for now, we can sit in the ruins of our heart without trying to exaggerate, explain away, or ignore the damage. We’re on God’s insurance policy, not ours, and it promises the rebuilding of our hearts one day, if not today.



With Me You Shall Be in Safekeeping

Once upon a time, there was a king in a cave.

Everyone in distress, and everyone in debt, and everyone bitter in soul gathered around him (1 Sam. 22:2). It wasn’t the life he imagined the day the oil ran down his head at his anointing. It wasn’t the day he pictured standing over Goliath’s slain body. It wasn’t the palace he once knew in Saul’s court. It was altogether different.

But the king didn’t complain. He welcomed this rag-tag group of men. He became their commander. He suffered with them in the wilderness.

Can you imagine it? A suffering king.

The cave at Adullam is King David’s unlikely palace. There amid these suffering ones, serving as a type of One to come, he found his place in the story of redemption. His heart is on full display. It isn’t inward but outward; not self-centered but thinking of others; not fearful but finding refuge in God. David is the king of the downcast and the outcast, the put out and put off, the debtor and drunkard and distressed. He was the kind of king the lowliest needed. The highest already had theirs.

While King David made his home in the cave, King Saul sat on the heights under a tamarisk tree. The men of his tribe surrounded him. Unlike David who sought to care for others, Saul cared only for himself. He wondered why no one told him where David was, why no one let him in on his secrets, why they all seemed to admire him when he couldn’t give them a field or a vineyard or a command of men. Saul was the big man on campus. Couldn’t they see that?

Well, Doeg the Edomite could. Why this brute found a home with Saul while the righteous David could not is an insight into Saul’s depravity. He was not a king of the people; merely a king for himself. The throne he sat upon wasn’t only Israel’s, God’s nation, it was also the one of his own heart. He was The Man, and couldn’t tolerate anyone else lurking in the shadows.

It’s surprising, then, that Saul listened to the one who did lurk in the shadows. The last time Doeg appears in the Bible he’s overhearing David’s conversation with Ahimelech the priest. David lies about his mission, pleading for food and weaponry. His intentions perhaps were good. Maybe he wanted to protect Ahimelech. He didn’t. Doeg ruined that plan. Once he found his way back to Saul, he spilled the beans.

And off Saul went.

The story of 1 Samuel 22:11-19 is hard to read. Saul summoned Ahimelech to see if what Doeg said was true. It was. Ahimelech had seen David and given him food. He also gave him the only weapon in his possession: Goliath’s sword. Angered, Saul said, “You shall surely die, Ahimelech, you and all your father’s house.”

But none of Saul’s men would strike the priests. How could they? These were the priests. How could they stand before God with the blood of the mediators on their hands? Leave it to the Edomite to do the dirty work. This was nothing new for his clan. Standing against God’s chosen was their way. He unsheathed his sword and put it to the priests, then to the men of Nob, then to the women, then to the children.

And Saul approved of their execution.

Ahimelech surely died, but not with all his father’s house. One escaped.

Abiathar fled after David. How he knew his whereabouts is a mystery but he found him nonetheless. He told him all Saul had done, the carnage he witnessed, the deaths that couldn’t be undone. The words of Saul probably rang in his ears, pounding his heart to the beat of despair, “You shall surely die.”

The king he ran from was like those of other nations. When it came right down to it, he couldn’t be trusted. Instead of learning from God’s law as delivered by the priests, he slaughtered them. Instead of remaining humble, his heart was lifted up above his brothers (Deuteronomy 17:18-20).

But the king he ran to was unlike those anywhere else. He was, after all, the kind of king who received such men: distressed, bitter, suffering. In his day of greatest need, Abiathar found a soft spot to land in the care of the king in the cave. “Stay with me; do not be afraid, for he who seeks my life seeks your life. With me you shall be in safekeeping” (1 Samuel 22:23).

Do not be afraid is one thing to say, another to receive, and yet another to apply. Fear is instinctual. It is rational. It keeps us safe and keeps us alive. But when our fears find their refuge, they can be put to rest finally and fully. David was such a refuge to Abiathar. Why? Because David was God’s king with God’s promises. Yes, a mutual enemy sought their life. But with David, Abiathar was safe—not because Saul couldn’t find them. In fact, he did very soon after. Abiathar was safe with David because David was safe with God. He was the anointed one, the Christ.

In Christ is where our fears find their refuge. It’s in the king in the cave, suffering alongside those unworthy in this world to be among the powerful. It’s in the king in the wilderness, taking command of people who have run out of options. It’s in the king who suffers not just alongside his people but for his people. It’s in the Christ who takes responsibility for everyone in distress, everyone in debt, everyone bitter in soul. It’s in the Christ who saves them even at great expense to himself.

It’s in the Christ where once upon a time becomes happily ever after. Maybe not in this life, but surely in the life to come. The good King wins, not by his might but by his weakness, not by his circumstance but in spite of it, not by his force but by his love.

There may be a time when you too must run for your life. If so, there is a king who has stooped low, and if you run to him, you shall be in safekeeping.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at thingsofthesort.com



The Salt of the Earth

You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is not good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet. – Matthew 5:13

Salt gets bad press. It is tied to hypertension, obesity, heart disease, and other ailments. The need for salt is questioned. The use of salt is discouraged. The presence of salt on many tables is more decorative than anything else. However, this was not the case when Jesus announced to his disciples, “You are the salt of the earth.”

In New Testament times, salt was an essential and valuable commodity. The Roman government paid soldiers’ wages in salt. A good, faithful man was said to be “worth his salt.” Our word “salary” is derived from the Latin term, solarium, which means to trade or barter with salt.

Salt served a wide array of purposes in the ancient world. There are just as many views of what “the salt of the earth” means. Consider three primary interpretations of Matthew 5:13.

Salt prevents decay. To prevent meats from spoiling, it was packed in salt. Salt slowed the process of spoiling. Likewise, Christians are the salt of the earth, without which the forces of evil would have little or no resistance in the world.

Salt promotes thirst. Saltwater intensifies thirst; the more you drink, the thirstier you become. The pleasures of the world do not satisfy. Christians should cause unbelievers to become dissatisfied with the world and thirsty for God.

Salt provides flavor. Salt seasons. This is the point Jesus makes when he says, “You are the salt of the earth.” Christians are to the earth what salt is to food. Christians are kingdom condiments. Christians are sanctified seasoning. Christians flavor this insipid world.

We are the salt of the world for God. Believers live for the pleasure of God to make a difference in the world. Christians are not perfect. But when Christians live as Christians, we make this corrupt world palatable to God. Let the church be the church!

The Character of Salty Christians

Matthew 5:13 is a description, not a prescription. Jesus does not call us to practice moral or religious behavior. He states the nature of kingdom citizenship: “You are the salt of the earth.” What you are is more important than what you do. And the Lord is only pleased when what you do flows from who you are. God does not settle for salt substitutes. Character precedes and predetermines performance. You can make a difference by simply being salt. Act like a Christian! Conduct yourself as a citizen of the kingdom of heaven.

God uses ordinary things. Jesus did not describe Christians as the gold, silver, or jewels of the earth. We’re just salt. But God uses salt. That means God can use you. There are some fourteen thousand industrial uses for salt. That’s a lot of possibilities! All God needs of you to use you is all of you. You are the salt of the earth. But God cannot use you if you do not get out of the saltshaker. In fact, God may take you out of your comfort zone, turn your life upside-down, and shake things up to make you useable for his glory.

The Conduct of Salty Christians 

After describing his followers as salt, Jesus raises a dilemma. What if the salt loses its taste? What do you do if the salt is no longer salty? The point is that salt tastes different. When salt is used, it dissolves and disappears into the food. As the salt infiltrates the food, the food tastes different. What good is salt that is not different? If salt loses its flavor, what do you do, salt it? This ridiculous scenario is a driving warning about the great contradiction and severe consequences of worldliness in a believer’s life.

Many things that lose their original purpose can be repurposed to accomplished another purpose. Salt is not on that list. There is no such thing as recycled salt. Unsalty salt is worthless. Salt that has lost its flavor is not good for anything. It might as well be tossed out and trampled underfoot. This is the warning Jesus issues to nominal, worldly, and unfruitful disciples. Unfaithful Christians are like tasteless salt and invisible light. Get out of the saltshaker that your life can make a difference for the good of others and the glory of God.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at hbcharlesjr.com.