Why Should We Seek to Glorify God?

By / Jan 26

Our kiddos have firmly planted themselves in the “why” era. You know the season—Why are we going to church? Why are we eating dinner? Why aren’t we having pizza? Why are we having pizza? Why are you going to work? (If you think I included too many examples here, you’re getting the point.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Eternally Happy God

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pleasing God as Participation in His Delight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[3] 1 Tim. 1:11



Maintaining Joy in a Ministry Job Search

By / Jan 22

As I approach the end of my final year in seminary, the reality of applying to ministry jobs can feel like a consuming fire. Instead of reading for class, catching up with family, or recovering lost sleep, I am drawn to the ministry job boards. The pressure to apply my seminary learning in the right church, in the right position, and in the right location can become a constant thought pattern, eroding my ability to stay present in my current work and home responsibilities. It doesn’t help when church search committees progress at the pace of molasses. How can one maintain joy during such an extended season of unknowns, filled with job applications, interviews, and the candidating process—especially after repeated “no’s”?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 



Why We Sing

By / Jan 21

The Christian faith is a singing faith. A singing saint brings deep joy to the heart of God. There is not a chapter and verse in Scripture that explicitly states this, but when you consider the sum of singing commands and the role singing plays at so many critical points in redemptive history, we easily come to the conclusion that our God really, really likes to hear his people sing. It brings serious joy to God’s heart to hear his people sing psalms of praise, hymns of devotion, lyrics of lament, melodies from hearts made new. Like my heart swells when I hear my children singing within our home, the heart of the Father is stirred by his sons and daughters singing to him in love and devotion.

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

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

An Act of Worship

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

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

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

A New Song

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

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

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

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

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

A Congregational Song

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

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

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

A Commanded Song

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

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

A Delightful Command

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

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

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

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

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

 



Growing in Godliness Through Faithful Examples

By / Jan 20

Discipleship is both taught and caught. We need faithful teachers who open the Scriptures for us and living examples who show us what it looks like to follow Jesus. In Philippians 3:17, Paul exhorts the church, “Join in imitating me, brothers and sisters, and pay careful attention to those who live according to the example you have in us.” His counsel is simple and wise: look around your church, identify ordinary people who embody godliness, and pay close attention to them.

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

Joyful Obedience to God 

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

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

Fierce Commitment to Orthodoxy

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

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

Love for the Local Church 

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

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

Humbly Receiving Correction 

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

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

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

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

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

Ordinary Godliness, Together

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

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



Bright Hope for Facing the Unknown

By / Jan 16

In Sickness and in Health

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

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

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

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

Facing the Unknown

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

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

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

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

Steadfastness in Trials

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

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

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

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

Grieving Properly with Bright Hope for Tomorrow

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

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

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

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



How To Repent of Your Insecurity

By / Jan 8

“I know it’s not real, but I’m still afraid.”

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

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

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

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

Our Status as Adopted Children

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

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

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

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

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

Operating in Integrity

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

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

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

Fighting Fear with Fear

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

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

Jump In

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

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



The Gospel Adorned: A Pastoral Meditation for a Post-Christian Age

By / Jan 5

In Titus 1, Paul writes, “for the sake of the faith of God’s elect and their knowledge of the truth which accords with godliness, in hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began, and at the proper time manifested in his word through the preaching with which I have been entrusted by the command of God our Savior” (Titus 1:1–3).

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grace Trains Us

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grace Helps Us Wait

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grace Authorizes Our Declaration

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



2025 For the Church Book Awards

By / Dec 15

A good book timely placed in the right hands can change the course of a life and ministry. At For the Church, we believe in the ministry of good books for the sake of the Church—which is why we’re excited to present to you the 2025 For the Church Book Awards. For our ninth annual FTC Book Awards, members of our FTC council, editorial staff, and seminary community chose two books—a winner and a runner-up—to honor and to recommend to you for the way they impacted them personally and/or offered a significant contribution to the Church and her pursuit of a gospel-centered life and ministry.

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

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

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

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

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

Get the book here.

Jonathan Lumley, Associate Editor at For the Church

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

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

Get the book here.

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

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

Get the book here.

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



Rejoicing in the Light Amid the Night

By / Dec 12

There is a memory that will forever be ingrained in mine and my wife’s story. Within the past year, my wife and I became foster parents and received our first placement—a sweet two-year-old girl. Our connection with her was immediate. Within a day of picking her up from the hospital, it felt like she was our own child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  1. Bathe in the Light

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

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

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

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

  1. Accept the Night

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

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

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

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

  1. Rejoice in the Light Amid the Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Wisdom Rarely Makes You Famous

By / Dec 5

I know many Christians who want to live wisely—and I do too. The rich tradition woven throughout the Old Testament calls us to embody the fear of the Lord in a way that transforms us into wise people. This is all great . . .  when it “works.” That is, when we get the promotion, gain respect at church, and receive the podcast invitation. But we live in a fallen world, and both Ecclesiastes and C.S. Lewis remind us of the subtle dangers of living for recognition and praise. Wisdom is a noble and right pursuit, but we should not be shocked when it doesn’t earn us recognition or prestige.

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

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

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

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

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

Wisdom is Greater than Might

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

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

Foolishness is Powerful

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

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

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

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

Go After Jesus, not the Inner Ring

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

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

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

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

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

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