Dominion, Donuts, and the Digital Age

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

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

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

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

Skirts for Shame

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

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

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

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

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

Farming for Fratricide

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

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

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

Dominion for Debauchery

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

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

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

Bricks for Babel

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

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

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

Craftsmanship for Crucifixion

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

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

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

Regulate, Don’t Abdicate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Three Ingredients for Faithful Preaching

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

Who May Preach?

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

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

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

Why Do We Preach?

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

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

As Spurgeon warned, “I do not look for any other means of converting men beyond the simple preaching of the gospel and the opening of men’s ears to hear it. The moment the church of God shall despise the pulpit, God will despise her. It has been through the ministry that the Lord has always been pleased to revive and bless his churches.”[2]

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

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

What Do We Preach?

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

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

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

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



Prayer, A Sweet Communion

The Beginning of Prayer

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

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

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

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

The Fall of Prayer

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

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

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

The Restoration of Prayer

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

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

An Invitation to Prayer

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

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

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

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



Why Every Church Member Matters

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2. God values your work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4. God knows each one doing his work.

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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



The Biblical Language of Missions

As you have read through your Bible, maybe you have wondered, “Why is no one called a missionary in the New Testament?” There are pastors and elders, apostles and evangelists, prophets and priests, but where are the missionaries? Indeed, you may have noticed that the word “mission” does not even appear in your English Bible. But if you were to conclude that the Bible has nothing to say about missions because the English word is nowhere to be found, you would be greatly mistaken.

The word “mission” comes from the Latin word translated “to send.” Theologians use the phrase missio Dei primarily in reference to God’s sending of the Son and the Spirit. As God the Son and God the Holy Spirit fulfill their mission to glorify God the Father in history, they reveal God’s Triune nature. While mission (singular) usually refers to God’s plan to make Himself known among the nations, missions (plural) generally refers to human participation in God’s plan (in a limited way and with respect to only some aspects of God’s broader mission). At Midwestern Seminary, we believe the Bible theologically grounds missions in God’s own mission, His eternal purpose to manifest His glory.

Mission is a major theme that unites the entire biblical storyline. Many biblical doctrines are true, even when the Bible does not use the exact term. While some may argue that mission is a case in point, the word mission does appear in the New Testament, although it is sometimes obscured in English translations. Eckhard Schnabel points out, “The Latin verb mittere corresponds to the Greek verb apostellein, which occurs 136 times in the New Testament (97 times in the Gospels, used both for Jesus having been ‘sent’ by God and for the Twelve being ‘sent’ by Jesus).”[1]

The concept of mission permeates the Scripture. Biblical missiology emerges from five interlocking themes. Attention to these themes can sensitize readers to the prevalence of mission in the Bible.

  1. When the Bible speaks of God’s purposeful action in history, He is fulfilling His mission.
  2. When God reveals or communicates His glory, He is accomplishing the goal of His mission.
  3. When the Bible uses the language of sending, it is usually talking about God sending agents of His mission. Whether God the Father is sending prophets, the Son and the Spirit, or members of His Church, God is fulfilling His mission.
  4. When the Bible speaks of the nations or the Gentiles, as it does throughout the Old and New Testaments, it is speaking about the scope and sphere of God’s mission.
  5. The plan of salvation occupies a central place in God’s mission. First John 4:14 says, “The Father has sent the Son to be the Savior of the world.” In this one, simple, gospel verse, three major poles of theology converge: Trinitarianism, soteriology, and missiology. This short verse is Trinitarian because it speaks of the Father and Son (and the preceding verse mentions the Holy Spirit). It is soteriological because it refers to Jesus as the Savior. It is also missiological because it mentions the Father sending the Son, and because it talks about the world.

To summarize, the themes of purpose, communication, sending, nations, and salvation all point to God’s mission. As someone said, “If you take mission out of the Bible, all you’re left with is a front cover and back cover.” Truly, the whole Bible is a missionary document.[2]

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[1] Echkard J. Schnabel, Paul the Missionary: Realities, Strategy and Method (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2008), 27–28.

[2] “The Bible is a narrative record of God’s mission in and through his people for the sake of the world. It tells a story in which mission is a central thread—God’s mission, Israel’s mission, Christ’s mission, the Spirit’s mission, the Church’s mission.” Michael Goheen, Introducing Christian Mission Today: Scripture, History, and Issues (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2014), 37.



Motherhood: An Unassuming Currency

Motherhood is often the sipping of lukewarm coffee. It’s the crunch of Cheerios underfoot. It’s washing dishes and waking to wash dishes…again. Mothering leaves us exhausted. We work around the clock, and the laundry is still half-folded. When we’ve left careers, trade promotions, and external achievements for more time at home, this discouragement is compounded by the fear of not keeping up. In a productivity-driven society, the work of the home lacks the same prestige and influence we gain in our careers. To the world, an emphasis on home is a waste of education and talent.

We can find great comfort in remembering that God invited Adam and Eve to join him in his care and cultivation of the world.[1] Part of that work of stewardship included building a family: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it.”[2] This is astounding. In God’s design, our work is a partnership with God. Not only are we to tend to what already exists, but the Creator of all life asks us to be part of creating life.

Our unique role as mothers is one only we can provide—a role in which we were hand-selected by God. This calling is our greatest gift, our greatest currency toward the flourishing of our families. 

Generational Influence

God continues this partnership he began in Eden, choosing us—ordinary women—as conduits for his grace and purposes. We see this truth repeated throughout Scripture. Even in Eve’s rebellion, he chose to make her “the mother of all living.”[3] God’s promise of a Savior is fulfilled as Mary gives birth to Jesus. To this day, God calls us and positions us to make disciples. My heart soars when I read Paul’s words to Timothy, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well.”[4]  We should marvel at the profound influence our role might have on our children and grandchildren. God used Lois and Eunice to cultivate Timothy’s faith, whose ministry has had eternal significance throughout the ages.

Just as Genesis depicts God’s intimate hand in the beginning, so we see the intimacy in which God forms each of us in Psalms: “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb…Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.”[5]

This remarkable depiction of motherhood echoes the creation mandate and shows that God selects us to mother our children. It emphasizes that children are known by God and paired uniquely with us. We see God’s sovereignty, knowing our children’s days before they existed. In his wisdom and omnipotence, God wonderfully orchestrates the ages to determine our lives to meet those of our children. He guides our experiences, directs our relationships, and uses our trials to equip us for the work he asks, to prepare us for those he entrusts to our care.

Can we think of a lovelier calling than to be chosen to steward life, to have a position of influence and mentorship like Lois and Eunice? We point our children to God when confronted with defiance and guide their minds as they engage with the world. We create a home of beauty and culture, one of rest and life that displays the one who gives it. We have the privilege to show the girls and boys entrusted to us that their value is so great it demands the best of our time, intelligence, attention, skills, and affection. As God calls us to pass on our own “sincere faith” to our children, how can that be done without making them one of our highest priorities, by being the person most present in their lives?

Vocational Stewardship

My desire for career advancement pales when I remember God’s calling to steward my children’s lives and souls. He renews my vision for home when I remember Christ “came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”[6] He didn’t come with the glory he deserved; instead, he overturned the expectations of the world. He set aside his rights to love his children. He endured the cross “for the joy set before him.”[7] His death displayed the greatness of his love and the riches of his mercy.[8] These treasures propel us forward through our everyday.

Our motherhood might look like spit-up-stained shirts and a toy-splattered house. It might be 1,000 dirty diapers and toddler tantrums. These aren’t tasks to complete or phases to endure; they are precious moments that teach us to depend on Christ, to serve another in every need, to calm a little sinful heart, and to say Jesus made a way to God.

Our lives must give our children the best of us so that we may disciple their hearts and display God’s love. We must remember this calling demands our physical presence. God’s pairing of us with our children doesn’t end after the newborn stage or the arrival of kindergarten. Mothers are called to a place of primary influence. God’s path to significance is often counterintuitive. He calls us to a life in his upside-down kingdom—a kingdom where the judge sits in place of the guilty, where the last shall be first, and where perhaps the overlooked, unpaid work carries the greatest currency of all.

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[1] Genesis 1:26-31

[2] Genesis 1:28

[3] Genesis 3:20

[4] 2 Timothy 1:5

[5] Psalm 139:13-16

[6] Mark 10:45

[7] Hebrews 12:2

[8] Ephesians 2:4-6



The Green Glass Door and The Gospel

When I played college baseball, we used to play games on the road to make the time go by faster. My games of choice were either Spades or riddle word games. My favorite riddle was “The Green Glass Door.”

If you haven’t heard, it goes like this:

There is a Green Glass Door. A goose can fit through the Green Glass Door, but not a duck. A deer can fit through, but not a doe. What else can fit through the Green Glass Door? Any guesses?

You might be rattling off guesses right now, or you could be sitting there, like several of my teammates, with more questions than answers.

Here’s the thing—some people would get it, but most wouldn’t.

I would give hints, or maybe dance around the answer, but they still wouldn’t get it.

It didn’t matter how hard they tried to think or come up with different ideas; they couldn’t get it.

Ultimately, they would need someone who knew to help them by clearly speaking the trick to the riddle.

I think this is very similar to how we share our faith in Jesus with others. I hear people talk about sharing Jesus, and I certainly don’t think any follower would disagree with the Great Commission. However, there seems to be a tendency for many believers today to separate showing Jesus in actions from speaking Jesus to the lost.

Don’t misunderstand me; we absolutely must show the love of Christ in our actions and be the ones out front leading the charge to serve our neighbors and community.

However, we should be just as concerned for the Lord to give us opportunities to speak about Jesus, and then have the courage to step into those moments. This is what Paul is speaking of in Colossians 4:2-4:

“Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving. At the same time, pray also for us, that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ, on account of which I am in prison—that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak.”

We should be praying that God would open a door for us and then pray that we would have the conviction to step through that door and speak the gospel clearly.

So, how can we speak it clearly? Thankfully, Paul gives us further insight in the letter to the Colossians:

“Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” Colossians 4:5-6

Make it important.

Paul, in verse 5, is praying that we would walk in God’s wisdom to be aware when it is a moment He wants us to speak. God is drawing all men to Himself, so we want to be looking for those moments and then jump on them.

Make it beautiful.

We live in a culture that is starving for beauty and transcendence. Paul, in verse 6, says our speech should be appealing. It should draw others in. We have the greatest story ever and the answer to dried-up, weary souls. Share it with confidence knowing you aren’t talking about some product but the very thing we all were made for.

Make it personal.

Paul says if we do these things, we will then be able to answer anyone whenever they have questions about the gospel. The major reason we don’t share Jesus is that we are afraid of not knowing how to respond if someone asks us a question we don’t know.

I understand that fear, but can I ask you to reflect on a question?

How often in your daily life are you interacting with theoretical astrophysicists asking you questions about string theory and superfluidity?

I would bet that’s pretty rare. However, even if you do, just because you don’t know it doesn’t mean that there isn’t an answer.

Tell the person, “I don’t know,” and ask if you can do some research and then meet up again in a week. There are amazing saints who can speak to these questions.

Additionally, yes, the gospel speaks to the cosmic reconciliation of all things through the person and work of Jesus, and God wrote you into the story.

If you don’t know what to say, share your story. Share how Jesus took you from death to life. Share how He delivered you from darkness into light. Our testimony is the most powerful witness we have, so if the conversation gets too “in the clouds,” bring it back down and ask the person, “Can I share with you how Jesus changed my life?”

From there, connect Jesus to their story. Alvin Reid, in his book Sharing Jesus Without Freaking Out, put it beautifully, saying, “Sharing Jesus is as simple as connecting with others around their passion or their pain.”[1] Make it personal because Jesus is personal.

Conclusion

So, did you figure out the riddle yet? I could give you more hints, like: What do Apple and Rooster have in common? I could tell you to focus on how Green Glass and Door are spelled, and you might get the trick. However, it isn’t until I tell you that the key to the riddle is the double letters back-to-back that you finally see it clearly. Green Glass Door.

Just like this riddle, we need to make the gospel clear to those who don’t know Jesus, and the only way to make it abundantly clear is by speaking it.

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[1] Alvin Reid, Sharing Jesus Without Freaking Out: Evangelism the Way You Were Born to Do It (Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 2017), 2.



A New Birth

Everyone is born dead. Signs of life are evident—the ability to breathe, the pulse felt on our wrists, and an ever-increasing ability to understand the things of this world. Yet signs of death are lurking in the background. Death is seen in the disobedient child, in the small lies we tell each other, and in the secret thoughts of our minds. Life is lived, but not only will death tarnish every moment, it will bring life to an end. We call this death sin! Not one person is born without sin infecting them. If mankind is to truly live, then we must be born again into a new life, one where death has no hold or power. Without rebirth, we can never experience regeneration.

Death

In Paul’s letter to the church in Rome, he explains how sin has brought death to us all. Romans 5:12 states, “Sin came into the world through one man.” It was Adam’s breaking of God’s covenant in the Garden of Eden that brought sin into the world. Adam disobeyed God’s strictest command not to eat from a certain tree (Genesis 2:17); when tempted, he disregarded the Word of God and ate (Genesis 3:6). Paul continues in his letter, “…and death [came] through sin, and so death spread to all men.” The sin of Adam meant that mankind could no longer enjoy perfect relationship with God. Punishment was due, and death was the price to be paid. Paul notes, “One trespass led to condemnation for all men” (Romans 5:18) and “By one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners” (Romans 5:19). Even to this day, we are born into the wickedness of Adam and must suffer the fate that every person has had to face—the punishment of death. Everyone is born dead! Dead in their sin.

Some deny that they are sinners before God. Just as Peter thought highly of himself (Matthew 26:33-35), we too fall into the trap of thinking of ourselves with high esteem. There are some who claim to be right before God, denying the presence of sin in their lives (1 John 1:8). Scripture makes clear that this denial is deception. Satan has blinded us to our own sin and set us on the path to death. Every man, woman, and child has sinned (Romans 3:23) and deserves the punishment of death (Romans 6:23). It is true that some may indeed be moral people, good people who have done no major wrongs toward others. Yet remember: sin lurks! It exists in our self-exaltation and denial of our need for Jesus. It exists in our willingness to downplay the evil in our hearts and over sell our occasional good deed. Those tempted to deny that death reigns in their mortal body are those who live in arrogance before God. As disobedience entered through Adam, so we are now all wrestling with the arrogance of disobedience. Without rebirth, we will remain languishing in our sin.

Life

In the sovereign will of God, He has provided a way for regeneration. As death entered through one man in creation, so life will be brought through one man and His redemptive power. Paul declares, “One act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men” (Romans 5:18). Jesus, the one who Himself is life, willingly took on death to present us with the free gift of life. Only Jesus holds the power to do so, for only Jesus was born alive without the shadow of death hanging over Him—“so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous” (Romans 5:19). Everyone may be born dead, but all can find life. It is not from within themselves that they will find this life, but in the person and work of Jesus Christ. To kill the sin that has infected us, we must be born again (John 3:3).

Still thinking in earthly terms, Nicodemus asks the question that many will consider at this stage—how is one born again? (John 3:4) Jesus responds, “So must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14-15). Those dead in their sin must look to Christ on the cross and place their faith in Him. Only then will they be born into a new life, one marked by the blood of Jesus, not by the sin that once plagued them. In coming to Christ, we are washed by His blood and made completely new. Paul writes, “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Faith in Jesus brings death to the old way. Notice how after the old way is gone, “behold” new life is given. The old life must be destroyed for the new life to begin. Therein lies mystery of the new birth. Paul helpfully writes, “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:3-4). As we experience new birth, we find that our sin is dead, our sin is buried, and our sin is defeated. Now we can rise into the newness of life in Christ Jesus.

New Creation

Faith in Jesus leads us from death to life through the mystery of a new birth. You are no longer dead, but alive. You are a new creation, free to worship the Lord and to draw close to your Heavenly Father. There was once a time where death had its strangle hold on you, but not now! Now you are lifted high by the very hands of God and seated in the heavenly realms as renewed, refreshed, and regenerated. New birth through Christ Jesus brings a new stunning reality—you are a child of God. You were once born dead, but now you are born alive! So live, oh child of God! Live life to the full! Enjoy your creator and the gifts He bestows upon you. Live in the knowledge that sin is defeated. Live as one born to life!



What the Christian Does

Editor’s Note: Excerpted with permission from The Great Commission: A Sermon Collection by Charles H. Spurgeon, edited by Jason K. Allen. Copyright 2024, B&H Publishing. Available now from B&H and wherever Christian books are sold.

What the Christian Does[1]

I will take it for granted that every believer here wants to be useful. If he does not, I take leave to question whether he can be a true believer in Christ. Well, then, if you want to be really useful, here is something for you to do to that end: “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

What is the way to become an efficient preacher? “Young man,” says one, “go to college.” “Young man,” says Christ, “follow me, and I will make you a fisher of men.” How is a person to be useful? “Attend a training class,” says one. Quite right, but there is a surer answer than that—Follow Jesus, and he will make you fishers of men. The great training school for Christian workers has Christ at its head, and he is at its head not only as a tutor but as a leader. We are not only to learn of him in study but to follow him in action. “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

The direction is very distinct and plain, and I believe that it is exclusive so that no man can become a fisherman by any other process. This process may appear to be very simple, but assuredly it is most efficient. The Lord Jesus Christ, who knew all about fishing for men, was himself the Dictator of the rule, “Follow me, if you want to be fishers of men. If you would be useful, keep in my track.”

I understand this, first, in this sense: he separates unto Christ. These men were to leave their pursuits. They were to leave their companions. They were, in fact, to quit the world, that their one business might be, in their Master’s name, to be fishers of men. We are not all called to leave our daily business or to quit our families. That might be rather running away from the fishery than working at it in God’s name. But we are called most distinctly to come out from among the ungodly, to be separate, and not to touch the unclean thing. We cannot be fishers of men if we remain among men in the same element with them. Fish will not be fishers. The sinner will not convert the sinner. The ungodly man will not convert the ungodly man, and what is more to the point, the worldly Christian will not convert the world. If you are of the world, no doubt the world will love its own, but you cannot save the world. If you are dark and belong to the kingdom of darkness, you cannot remove the darkness. If you march with the armies of the wicked one, you cannot defeat them.

I believe that one reason why the church of God at this present moment has so little influence over the world is because the world has so much influence over the church. Nowadays we hear Nonconformists pleading that they may do this and they may do that— things that their Puritan forefathers would rather have died at the stake than have tolerated. They plead that they may live like worldlings, and my sad answer to them, when they crave for this liberty, is, “Do it if you dare. It may not do you much hurt, for you are so bad already. Your cravings show how rotten your hearts are. If you have a hungering after such dog’s meat, go, dogs, and eat the garbage.

Worldly amusements are fit food for mere pretenders and hypocrites. If you were God’s children you would loathe the very thought of the world’s evil joys, and your question would not be, “How far may we be like the world?” but your one cry would be, “How far can we get away from the world? How much can we come out from it?” Your temptation would be rather to become sternly severe and ultra-puritanical in your separation from sin, in such a time as this, than to ask, “How can I make myself like other men, and act as they do?”

Brothers, the use of the church in the world is that it should be like salt in the midst of putrefaction, but if the salt has lost its savor, what is the good of it? If it were possible for salt itself to putrefy, it could but be an increase and a heightening of the general putridity. The worst day the world ever saw was when the sons of God were joined with the daughters of men. Then came the flood, for the only barrier against a flood of vengeance on this world is the separation of the saint from the sinner. Your duty as a Christian is to stand fast in your own place and stand out for God, hating even the garment spotted by the flesh, resolving like one of old that, let others do as they will, as for you and your house, you will serve the Lord.

Come, you children of God, you must stand out with your Lord outside the camp. Jesus calls to you today and says, “Follow me.” Was Jesus found at the theater? Did he frequent the sports of the racecourse? Was Jesus seen, think you, in any of the amusements of the Herodian court? Not he. He was “holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners.” In one sense, no one mixed with sinners so completely as he did when, like a physician, he went among them healing his patients. But in another sense there was a gulf fixed between the men of the world and the Savior that he never assayed to cross and that they could not cross to defile him. The first lesson the church has to learn is this: Follow Jesus into the separated state, and he will make you fishers of men. Unless you take up your cross and protest against an ungodly world, you cannot hope that the holy Jesus will make you fishers of men.

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[1] Published in Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, Vol. 32 in 1886 by Charles Spurgeon. This is an excerpt from sermon 1906, delivered in 1886, exact date unknown.