Four Ways the Gospel Changes Our Service

By / Jul 23

When you think of a servant, who comes to mind?

Maybe someone famous, a first responder, a parent, a spouse, or someone in your church. Whoever comes to mind, servants are compelling. We may not always want to do what they do, but we admire them. We recognize the wisdom and beauty that manifest in a life of service. But how can service become more central to who we are?

Serving is part of every relationship, but it’s not easy. We often don’t know what to do. We struggle to serve with joy. Over time, we burn out.

How can we grow in serving with wisdom?

1. From Emotional to Consistent

Often, we serve emotionally. A GoFundMe shows up. A tragedy happens. A big event needs support. We feel moved, so we give, help, respond, or rally around the need.

That isn’t bad. But sometimes the big gesture feels easier than the daily one. It’s easier to buy the spa day than to do the dishes every day. We may more readily commit to a Disneyland vacation than to a regular practice of family worship. It’s easier to say, “I would die for Jesus,” than to say, “I’ll set up pipe and drape for Jesus.”

The Bible calls us to more than bursts of emotional service. Paul says, “Do not grow weary in doing good” (2 Thess. 3:13). That command assumes a life of repeated, ordinary, tiring good. Jesus gives us the clearest picture when He washes His disciples’ feet. He takes the posture of a servant and does something basic, dirty, menial, and lowly. Then He tells His disciples to wash one another’s feet too (John 13:14).

True Christian service often looks less like changing the world and more like showing up again and again in ordinary ways.

2. From Words to Action

Christians know how to use words. When people are in need, words can roll easily off the tongue: “God bless you.” “Go in peace.” “I’ll pray for you.” Words matter. But the danger is that words can make us feel and look good without actually helping the person in need. Love is not merely something we feel; it is something we do.

John says we know love because Jesus “laid down his life for us,” and therefore “we should also lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” Then he says, “Let us not love in word or speech, but in action and in truth” (1 John 3:16–18).

Christian love should cost us something so others gain something. One way we try to cultivate this in our church is by asking small groups to share not only “prayer requests” but also “needs requests”—real, practical ways the body can help.

3. From Available to Intentional

One of the most common things we say when someone is struggling is, “Let me know if you need anything.” It sounds kind and thoughtful, but almost nobody responds to it.

If someone said, “I’d like to bring you and your family dinner tonight,” I’d probably say, “Wow, that would be really helpful.” But if they said, “Is there anything I can do for you?” and I answered, “Yes, would you make me dinner tonight?” that would feel rude.

We all know this. Nobody has a baby and texts the church, “I would like lasagna on Wednesday.” But meal calendars get set up because someone else says, “Let’s bring them meals.”

Paul says, “Everyone should look not to his own interests, but rather to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:4). Availability says, “I’m here if you need me.” Intentionality says, “I see you, and here’s what I’m doing about it.” Instead of saying, “Let me know if you need anything,” say, “Can I bring dinner?” “Can I watch your kids?” “Can I help you move?” “Can I sit with you?”

4. From Reciprocal to Gracious

Often, we think about serving in a reciprocal way. You helped me move, so I’ll help you move. You made me a meal, so I’ll make you a meal. We want the equations to balance—but often, they don’t. Even if serving continues, bitterness grows.

However, Jesus calls us to move beyond reciprocity. He says, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” Then He says, “Love your enemies, do what is good, and lend, expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:32, 35).

Jesus calls us to serve graciously without keeping score—to serve those who don’t deserve it. This frees us from watching the scales and measuring others’ responses.

How Can We Serve Like This?

This kind of service is beautiful, but it isn’t easy. It pulls against many of our instincts. If we want the wisdom and endurance to serve with joy, we need more than a command to serve. We need to fill our hearts with how Jesus has perfectly served us in all these ways.

Jesus serves us consistently. He doesn’t serve us in a burst of emotion and then leave us alone. He gives daily bread and keeps showing up.

Jesus served us sacrificially. He didn’t merely shout, “I love you” from heaven. He took on flesh and went to the cross to give us life.

Jesus serves us intentionally. God isn’t standing far away, saying, “I’m available if you ever need me.” He knows what we need before we even ask and is presently working all things for our good.

And Jesus serves us graciously. None of us deserved His love. We were enemies of God, yet He gave us everything.

There has never been a moment when Jesus looked at your life unmoved, uncaring, or unwilling to act. He is the perfect servant. The more His service fills our heads and hearts, the more our hands are trained to serve with wisdom, joy, and endurance.



Beyond Education: The Formation of Pastors

By / Jul 21

Formation Over Education

It takes more than academic success and excellence in ministerial skills to produce pastors. That’s because the biblical qualifications for the pastorate are matters of spiritual maturity and Christlike character, and an academic institution can only do so much—by design—to influence and assess such things.

It has become cliché at this point to hear from ministers the laundry list of things they “didn’t learn in seminary.” When churches everywhere were navigating the confusion of the COVID-19 pandemic, it was a familiar refrain. “They didn’t teach us about this in seminary!” Church leaders have become accustomed to saying this about lots of things that pop up in regular ministerial life.

The truth is, seminaries could improve in exposing pastoral aspirants to more of the practicalities of ministry. We could do more to minimize the theoretical, especially as it pertains to practical theology and pastoral ministry courses. I try to do that very thing in my own pastoral ministry classes. But if seminaries added everything ministers ought to know in order to be fully prepared for the challenge of serving a church, the MDiv degree would be hundreds of credit hours long, and nobody would go!

The solution is not to go to seminary. These days, theological education is more available and, in some cases, more affordable than it has ever been. I encourage any young man aspiring to pastoral ministry to get a seminary education, if he is able. For many—though not for all—foregoing seminary training would be poor stewardship of their mind and even of their finances. The academy can’t meet every need, but it can be a sound investment that pays lifelong dividends.

No, the solution is not to get rid of academic training—but we can’t expect from academic training what only pastoral mentoring can provide.

In teaching my pastoral ministry class, I spend more time on matters of the heart—the fruit of the Spirit, pastoral disposition, and personal holiness—than on the practicalities at hand. My students spend more time rehearsing the pastoral implications of assessing baptismal candidates than physically practicing how to baptize somebody. (I always say to my students that if they can’t figure out how to put somebody under water, they’re probably too dumb to be in a Baptist seminary anyway!) And I definitely spend more time in the classroom reinforcing gospel-centrality as a unifying biblical theme and as an urgent and necessary ministry philosophy than I do teaching them how to officiate weddings and funerals (though we spend some time on those things too). In the exams I administer and the papers I assign, I am far more interested in whether a student can substantively and thoughtfully reflect on the biblical emphases for ministry than in whether they can regurgitate things they’ve memorized in the readings. But despite all that effort, I am still not really in a position to determine whether what a young man can express in writing or in a classroom discussion matches how he lives and conducts himself in a real-life church setting.

For a man to be truly qualified to care for souls, he needs life-on-life mentoring. He needs another pastor or mature leader to speak into his personal spiritual life and bear ongoing witness to how he’s responding, how he’s learning, and how he’s growing.

I like to say that it’s the job of theological education to give the scarecrow a brain, but it’s the work of spiritual formation to give the tin man a heart.

Precisely because there are so many permutations of leadership challenges, relationship dynamics, and personal and spiritual conflicts throughout a life of ministry, it is not seminary we should expect to prepare men for them, but a pastoral mentor.

Formation into Qualification

While the biblical qualifications for eldership include things like “able to teach” (1 Tim 3:2) and “able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it” (Titus 1:9), which are certainly things formal theological education can inform, the majority of the qualifications focus on areas of character, disposition, and temperament. These qualities are certainly not divorced from sound doctrine and theology, but as the fruit of Christlikeness, they require a more intensive cultivation than even the best academic institutions can provide. What they require is personal shepherding.

What the biblical qualifications for eldership require is discipleship.

In 1 Corinthians 4:15, the apostle Paul says to the church, “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers.” Paul himself provides spiritual fatherhood to many disciples of Jesus. He says as verse 15 continues that he became a father to the Corinthians “through the gospel.” He certainly was a spiritual father to the pastors Timothy and Titus.

Because the mandate of discipleship is given to the church catholic (Matt 28:19), every Christian ought to make it a priority to pass on the faith to others in a guided and even pastoral way. Titus 2— with its familial and intergenerational portrait of spiritual formation—reflects how this discipleship may play out in a local church setting. But as those with the mantle of church leadership are tasked specifically with equipping the saints for ministry (Eph 4:12), it is incumbent upon those in the pastoral office—that is, those who have been ordained, installed, or otherwise recognized by the church governance as holding pastoral authority and responsibility in a congregation4 —to serve as spiritual fathers to those who are training for that office.

In my capacity as both a seminary professor and a local church pastor personally invested in the training of pastoral aspirants, I frequently speak with young men who, despite making known to their pastors their desire for the noble task (1 Tim 3:1), have gone without discipleship in this area. Undoubtedly some have overstated their pastors’ unavailability or lack of investment, but a good number of them have either been neglected or simply told that seminary will provide their training. What these young men know they lack, however, is not just education, but formation. They’ve had many guides, but they’ve had few fathers.

And what does a spiritual father do?

The principle aim of a spiritual father in the work of pastoral mentoring is inculcating the centrality of the gospel in the mind and the heart of one who is called to ministry. We are helping one who aspires to the pastorate to achieve a greater intellectual grasp on the gospel and to develop a greater spiritual devotion, through the gospel, to Christ Jesus the Lord.

The fruit of this work is greater focus on and development in those biblical qualifications for ministry. Pastoral mentoring is about formation deeper into qualification. The mentor, then, must envision the training of pastors as beyond the intellectual and even the practical, and more substantively into the realm of gospel-centered discipleship. And because the training of pastors is primarily a work of discipleship, and because discipleship is the primary work of the local church, it is the local church that is uniquely qualified to carry it out.

Editor’s Note: This is an excerpt from Pastoral Mentoring: For the Care of Souls by Jared C. Wilson, released by Baker (July 2026).



Dear Gen Z Pastor: Six Traits of Our Generation and How They Affect Ministry

By / Jul 20

My older brother and sister are both Millennials (1981–1996). I, however, was born just in time to belong to Generation Z (1997–2012). Now, in 2026, Gen Z is squarely in the workforce and, increasingly, in ministry. I have been a senior pastor for three years and am at the very tip of the Gen Z iceberg. More Gen Z pastors are entering ministry each day.

Dear Gen Z Pastor, our generation is marked by many traits, some of which will directly impact the way you minister to your congregation. Understanding these traits can help you recognize both the opportunities and challenges they bring to ministry.

1.   Alien

You are from a planet unlike the one most of your congregation has lived on for their entire lives. This new world doesn’t seem so strange to you and me, as it’s all we’ve known. However, you will likely be outnumbered by other generations who come from a very different world—many of whom remember life before cell phones!

Recognize that the experience you grew up with is not like theirs. In some ways, it will be as though you have gone cross-cultural when paying a visit to the couple in their eighties. You will need to actively think, “How can I step into the world they occupied and the culture they grew up in?” Otherwise, your ability to minister to them will be hindered.

2.   Local

You need to learn to be present where you are ministering. Gen Z is more global than any generation before us. You have likely been to more countries by age 25 than your parents had at the same age. Likewise, as an internet generation, we plug into goings-on around the globe and maintain entirely online friendships. We enjoy the luxuries of technological advances, yet we must recognize the ways they have shaped us negatively. One way is that we are much less local than previous generations.

Our generation is not as naturally inclined to invest deeply in the neighborhood or part of town right around us as previous generations were. Older pastors, like my predecessor, were regulars at the same restaurants, well known by the local funeral home, and couldn’t walk through town without hearing, “Hey, Pastor!”

The Gen Z pastor must work hard to be local and known in the community. The pastor who is a local hero and local resource is a blessing to his community as he ministers the gospel to his neighbors and constituents.

3.   Harmony

You need to balance your work with your life. I will grant you that I know of folks who did not value work-life balance. Husbands and fathers worked 80 hours a week and alienated themselves from their wives and children. In response, Gen Z often places a higher value on work-life balance. They take all their PTO, clock out at 5:00 PM, and don’t check work email in a way previous generations were not as careful to do. The Gen Z pastor knows he needs to balance his work and his life.

However, I do see a growing trend in guys who aren’t very balanced at all. Sure, take the opportunity to come in an hour late if you had a late night of ministry. But recognize that ministry is not a 24-hour job commitment—yet it does require a commitment from you. That means setting healthy boundaries, but also not taking advantage of your congregation.

If you are like me, you will work at a church where you are the sole staff member. No one is watching you, yet God is watching you. Your hard work is part of how you set the example (1 Tim. 4:12) for the congregation in a culture of quiet quitting.

4.   Finite

You cannot—and should not—know everything. Generation Z has greater access to information than any generation before it. If we are resourceful, we will be able to use that access for the benefit of our ministry. But recognize that you cannot know everything at all times.

You cannot know all the goings-on outside your church, in your denomination, or in the culture. And, truth be told, you cannot know everything in your church. The first time you get wind that members are critiquing you behind your back, you may feel something you have never felt before. That feeling is called the unknown. You do not know what was said, why it was said, or even who said it—and no amount of refreshing Facebook or X is going to change that.

This is a phenomenon largely foreign to Generation Z. You cannot know everything. You cannot know every single question that will be asked at an upcoming business meeting. You will not have every answer. And that is okay. Learn to embrace your limitations as another piece of evidence that your people need Jesus more than they need you.

5.   Patience

You will likely want to change everything right away—don’t.

Generation Z enjoys the benefits of a fast-paced and immediate culture. We hardly remember a world without Prime two-day shipping. We are accustomed to instant gratification in a way previous generations did not know. The issue is that things in the church don’t always move so fast. Granted, some things do. Culture, however, takes much longer to change—as it should.

The real, weighty changes to the culture of your church will require time and patience. Since our generation is not used to waiting, you may struggle with the kind of patience ministry requires. You must learn to wait, pray, and endure the months and years required to change the winds of culture. If you do not enter ministry with this expectation, you will lie awake at night—anxious and obsessing over the things you want to see change—thinking that taking your time is the end of the world.

6.   Charity

You may struggle with disagreements.

Our generation is not used to disagreement. We, along with the Millennials, are labeled the “Snowflake Generation.” However, I do not think Gen Z is bad at disagreeing simply because we have been coddled. Rather, I think the world our generation has grown up in has fostered an environment where one does not have to encounter many dissenting voices.

Gone are the days when there were only a select number of news or sports-talk channels and you simply had to bear with the hosts. Now, you can find the exact curated voice for your preferences, sensibilities, and eccentricities.

After years of curating your algorithm and feed to fit your preferences, you may find that you haven’t listened to the other side of the aisle much at all. How does this affect ministry? Gen Z is not used to encountering disagreement. Or, when we encounter a dissenting view, we are accustomed to tuning in to another voice.

But ministry is a work among people who often disagree with one another—and with you. Not all disagreements are significant, but you will not last long in ministry if you tune out your members whenever they have a differing opinion. The Gen Z pastor must learn to welcome disagreement and not remain restlessly uneasy or tune others out in anger or hurt.

Conclusion

Do not be ashamed to be a Gen Z pastor. Embrace that God has raised us up, just as He did with every preceding generation, but be honest with yourself about the sins and habits to which may be prone.

You cannot escape the fact that all—or at least some—of these habits will impact you and your ministry. The better you understand them, the better equipped you will be to minister faithfully to the people God has placed under your care.



The Gospel and Your New Neighborhood

By / Jul 16

As my wife and I felt the Lord calling us to move, the daydreaming began. We imagined our new dream home, new amenities, new décor. Once the Lord opened the door for us and we packed up the moving truck, we imagined another “new” in our lives: new neighbors. I reflected on the myriad of opportunities to love my neighbors, share the gospel, and serve my community that I had missed over the years in my old neighborhood. Yet, moving to a new home opens new opportunities for hospitality, service, and evangelism with those God has placed in our new neighborhood. We are resolved to obey Christ in His call to love our neighbors as ourselves by resolving to be good new neighbors in these four ways:

Resolved to Pray

As we continue to knock on doors and make introductions, we are committed to building a habit of praying for our new neighbors. In the past, I haven’t known many of my neighbors well enough to pray with depth. Now, we will get to know our neighbors by praying for them. It may be that no one comes to Christ in my neighborhood and that the relationships I hope for never form. Regardless, I can love my neighbors by bringing them before the throne of God and making petitions on their behalf.

God loves our neighbors more than we ever could. God knows them better than we ever will. Let us honor the Lord (and our neighbors) by being a people resolved to pray on their behalf. When you meet a new neighbor, write down their name so you can remember it, ask them for their prayer requests, and then pray!

Resolved to Pursue

Easy opportunities to build a relationship exist when you are a new neighbor, freshly moved in. Our instinct is to settle in quickly for the sake of our own comfort. We want those boxes emptied, bedframes built, and then to hit the pillow in our new fortress of solitude. However, with a new home comes not just a new commute, but also a new community. God has given you the blessing of a new home, the blessing of neighbors, and the opportunity to be a neighborly blessing. When we move, we find ourselves called to a new mission field with an old mission. Be resolved to pursue your neighbors. Pursue relationships with your neighbors through traditional hospitality, despite the imperfections of your half-painted bathroom or your half-empty boxes laying around.

Moreover, pursue more than just brief moments with your neighbors. Are there nearby parks to spend some quality time while your kids burn off some energy? Are there local coffee shops that you’ve been eager to try? Are there common areas in your apartment or dorm lobby? Those spaces can provide a meaningful opportunity to pursue new friendships and evangelism with those God has entrusted to you.

Resolved to Portray

The pursuit of love for others in a new neighborhood isn’t only an effort to bless those across the street. In this pursuit, you portray obedience to Christ for those around you—most critically, your own family and children. In my old neighborhood, there were girls the same age as my daughters. They never jumped on our trampoline or had a tea party with my girls. That is not my daughter’s fault—it’s my fault. The opportunity for obedience to my King was ever present and I was not desperate enough to model that for their young hearts. After moving, I am resolved not to make the same mistake.

They must learn by example that Christians have a calling from God to love our neighbors. Will our kids learn that lesson from us? May we be a portrait of obedience to the King so that those in our life see the Kingdom lived out through us.

Resolved to Praise

We are called to be a people who love our neighbors because our Savior took their place on the cross and died for their sin, just as he did for ours. We may be the most hospitable, friendly neighbors the world has ever seen, but if the love of Christ is not within us, it will end in vanity. Therefore, may we be resolved to praise the name of Jesus in all places, at all times, to all people. Wherever the Lord may place you, His wisdom has you there on purpose. You need not wait until you move somewhere new to be good neighbor. If you haven’t prayed, pursued, or portrayed Christ to your neighbors, you can resolve to begin today. But if God has brought you somewhere new, resolve to be a good new neighbor.



Why Christians Can Grieve with Hope

By / Jul 14

Created for Companionship

Have you ever seen a mother or even a father cry on their child’s wedding day? Some parents feel downcast when their son or daughter moves out of their home for the first time to go and attend college. Some spouses are saddened when their partner leaves for a work trip lasting several weeks or months. Moments like these reveal how deeply connected we become to those we love—and that’s how God designed it from the very beginning.

Genesis 2:18–23 narrates how God brought all the animals He had made to Adam in pairs so that he would give them names. Yet Adam himself had no partner, which prompted God to say, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him” (v 18). It was part of God’s original plan to create Eve, but He wanted Adam to feel a strong need for her first so that when He eventually presented Eve to him—as a father hands over his daughter to her groom on the wedding day—Adam would cherish her.

From the beginning, there has always been a longing for companionship and association in each of us. Even our Lord Jesus Christ surrounded Himself with disciples and close companions during His earthly ministry.

The stronger the bond with someone, the heavier the pain when they pass away. A man who hates his wife is not likely to miss her when she dies, whereas a man who loves his wife will be shattered by her death. Even though we may know that a loved one is going to heaven when they die, we will still be heartbroken when they’re gone because we will no longer be able to enjoy their companionship here on earth.

To demonstrate that aspect of His own humanity, Christ wept over the death of Lazarus and the anguish it brought to his family (John 11:35). That is why the Scripture enjoins us to “mourn with those who mourn” (Rom. 12:15). Doing so does not imply a lack of faith, but it reflects our capacity for empathy.

Grieving with Hope

Nevertheless, the Bible urges us to “not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope” (1 Thess. 4:13). While it is natural to express sorrow over the loss of a loved one, there remains hope for us even in loss. For those who are in Christ, we can encourage ourselves and rejoice in our spirit, knowing that they’re now with the Lord and blessed with eternal tranquility in heaven. For those who die apart from Christ, our grief is marked by sorrow and sobriety, yet even then we are not without hope in God’s justice and mercy, nor without comfort in His sovereign goodness. Certainly, no amount of peace, comfort, pleasure, or luxury on earth can compare with what awaits those in Christ!

Our Lord Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Losing people very dear to us is part of that trouble. Our grief will be deep and our pain will be devastating, but in the midst of it all, Christ wants us to know that He shares in our grief and pain (Heb. 4:15; 5:7).

In John 16:33, Jesus unequivocally acknowledges the distressing circumstances that will sometimes confront us in life, but His intention is not for us to fixate on them. Rather, He wants us to focus our attention on the fact that He has overcome for us. The troubles of life may throw us into emotional turmoil, but Jesus has gained victory for us.

As a result of the victory He won on the cross, grief cannot incapacitate us. We can receive grace from the Father—through faith in Christ Jesus—to move on triumphantly, so that, like Prophet Habakkuk, we can say in our time of sorrow,

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights. (Hab. 3:17–19)

Near the Brokenhearted

The Bible assures us that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Ps. 34:18). A grieving heart takes time to heal, but God will not allow us to be consumed by our sorrow. In our times of anguish, if we hold fast to Him, the Lord will always give us cause to testify, “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy” (Ps. 30:11).



How Active Learning Can Transform Your Women’s Bible Study

By / Jul 9

Howard Hendricks challenged educators when he wrote, “The best learners are participators; they’re not merely watching the action from the outside, but are deeply engrossed in it, involved to the hilt.”[1]

When it came time for our church plant to determine what our women’s Bible studies would look like, Hendricks’s idea became our guiding aim. Not because one-to-one reading, workbook studies, or lectures lack value, but because we felt a particular burden for this formal class to help our women believe they could study their Bibles well at home rather than depending on a more formal teaching environment.

If we were studying Genesis, we wanted women not only to understand Genesis more deeply, but also to learn how to study Genesis (and historical narrative more broadly). To do this well, our women couldn’t simply sit and take notes on a lecture or answer predetermined questions. They needed to be actively engaged in the process of Bible study, practicing inductive tools as they saw them used in real time.

In other words, our formal Bible studies would be a space for active learning, and we have seen it transform our women.

What Is Active Learning?

The author of Hebrews writes, “Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil” (Heb. 5:13–14).

Discernment is not merely acquired by knowing what to believe, but by understanding why and how. Why is something good or evil, and can I explain how I arrived at that conclusion? When applied to our Bible study, this means participants should not only leave knowing something new about the passage, but also how to defend their interpretation from the text.

This requires a space of active learning—where participants practice using the tools they have been given, and learn not to “look for what the teacher wants,” but to look to Scripture itself to understand what it says.

A helpful way to encourage active learning is through visual reinforcement of instruction. When verbal teaching is paired with visual structure, our capacity to remember increases significantly.[2] We have an ongoing joke in our Bible study that “there is power in the whiteboard.” The whiteboard rolls out, and the teacher asks specific questions that help the class move through the passage, synthesizing the discussion into cohesive, interpretive conclusions and filling the board with a visual map of what the passage says, means, and how it points to Christ.

The teacher may facilitate, but the board is filled with the active work of the women present.

Our Women Need Tools

1 Peter 2:2 has a similar sentiment as the author of Hebrews, “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation.” We are all commanded to grow in our knowledge and understanding of God through His Word—and we are never to stop this pursuit. We are always growing, feasting on the solid food God graciously provides.

Going from milk to solid food requires what Hendricks further argues in his book: learning to think, learn, and work.[3] If the goal of our Bible study is to produce women confident in handling their Bibles, then we can’t just tell them what the text says and what it means, nor can we leave them alone in the process of discovery. We must partner with them—giving tools, helping them get familiar with those tools, then practicing the tools together.

These “tools” are the basics of inductive study: observation, interpretation, and application. What I have found over the years is that telling a woman the various ways to merely observe a passage has its limits. However, showing how to implement these tools is more effective. An active learning space provides the opportunity to identify appropriate study tools for a text, practice them together, and see why they matter for understanding Scripture. We’ve seen this approach send many women home more confident in studying on their own.

For Becoming Spiritual Mothers

Toward the end of his book, Hendricks concludes, “the process of teaching is that of one total personality transformed by the supernatural grace of God, reaching out to transform other personalities by the same grace.”[4] Reading that sentence, I immediately think about the Great Commission: “go therefore, make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:18–19).

Our hope for our active Bible study is to see women confident and equipped to “go”—to teach other women what is good and profitable (2 Tim. 3:16–17; Titus 2:3–4), and to be able to argue the ways of God with grace and truth (Acts 18:28). We want women to grow beyond dependence on a teacher or the temptation to idolize them, maturing instead into spiritual mothers in the faith.

At the end of our class time, we almost always say, “Ladies, you did this. You discovered truth and beauty; you got us to the gospel.” Not only do they see that they can study Scripture and do so well, but that they are needed. Not because they themselves have the power to transform, but because as daughters of God they are called to carry the gospel forward—and it’s a joy to see our active Bible study play even a small role in that journey.

[1] Howard G. Hendricks, Teaching to Change Lives (Portland: Multnomah, 1987), 57.

[2] Ghulam Shabiralyani et al., “Impact of Visual Aids in Enhancing the Learning Process: Case Research (District Dera Ghazi Khan),” Journal of Education and Practice 6.19 (2015): 226–34.

[3] Hendricks, Teaching to Change Lives, 43–46.

[4] Ibid., 85.



Loving the Church in Her Brokenness

By / Jul 7

The Question Beneath the Brokenness

Brokenness in this world is apparent. While it grieves my heart to see the effects of sin, I can look at the corruption and distortion in culture with an understanding of what caused it and can look forward in hopeful expectation to the restoration of all creation.

My struggle comes when I think on the church. Why is there brokenness in her midst? Why does God not protect her more? As a pastor, is she worth giving my life to? As a lay member, is she worth the sacrifices required to be an active participant? It is a bold question, but it is also one that deserves to be wrestled with: Is she—the church—worth it?

God’s Design for the Church

Scripture is clear that the church is the body of Christ, the bride of Christ, and a picture of heaven here on earth. She is the sum of all who believe and are indwelt by the Holy Spirit. To be such, she is necessarily distinct from any other gathering or organization in this world.

Sadly, when we look around or experience her in practice, we often see something that falls short of this heavenly picture. We see exclusive groups that fail to include the least of these. We see leaders who abuse the office of pastor and those under their care. We see organizations that care more about public image than holiness. We see carefully worded mission and vision statements that reveal hearts that value seats over souls.

The Church Is Broken—but Being Redeemed

The body of Christ, the bride of Christ, the picture of heaven here on earth is broken. But what we find in Scripture is that she is beautifully broken. She is beautifully broken because, like creation, she is also being redeemed (Eph. 5:25–27).

The entirety of Scripture tells the story of God redeeming His people. From Adam and Eve in Genesis 3 to the covenant promises given to Abraham, to Moses leading the people in the wilderness, to Joshua leading them into the promised land, to a nation under the Davidic kingship, and finally to the New Testament church—God’s people have always been a broken people living in a broken world. But they have also always been a people being redeemed and sanctified.

God’s people have always been a distinctive people set apart for God’s purposes. Even in her brokenness, what sets the church apart is Christ. She is indwelt by the same Spirit who is working in every member to bring about sanctification into the image of Christ. She has been bought with a price and is worth it to Him who calls her His beloved.

As a pastor or layperson, if she is worth it to Christ, then I can and must say she is worth it to me, for I am counted in her midst. That Christ would call me to be part of His church and His redeeming work within her produces both deep gratitude and awe.

To see and experience the brokenness of the church is also to see and experience the redeeming work of Christ as He makes all things new. As we navigate failed leadership structures, misaligned purposes, and wrong motives within her, we are also seeing the gospel of grace and mercy at work in real time as God withholds the judgment we deserve in Christ. He can deal gently with her because His wrath fell on Christ, whose righteousness now covers her.

In all her brokenness, she is worth it because one day she will be united face to face with the One who is redeeming her and bringing her to perfect holiness and final union with Him.



Gyros, Lamb Chops, and the Church: A Warning Against Doing Christianity Alone

By / Jul 2

Sheep, the Herd, and the Shepherd

Humans are repeatedly compared to sheep in Scripture. If you know anything about sheep, you understand this is not a flattering analogy. Watch a few sheep videos and you’ll quickly see why.

Like sheep, we tend to stray (Isa. 53:6). We can be “harassed and helpless” (Matt. 9:36). We are not known for strength in adversity or for our ability to care well for ourselves (Ezek. 34:11–23), but we do have a “great shepherd” (Heb. 13:20). We may wander, but the Lord knows us (John 10:11–16) and claims us as His own (Ps. 100:3).

This world is a hostile place, and sheep only have two defense mechanisms: the Shepherd and the herd.

If you get too far from the Shepherd, you become lamb chops. And if you lose your herd, you become a gyro.

Thus, it is too spiritually dangerous for a Christian to walk alone. Christians need both the Shepherd and a local herd. When a sheep wanders from the herd, it’s only a matter of time before it becomes easy prey.

The Danger of Wandering Alone

I see this all the time. I meet Christians, who still believe in Jesus, but they are not a part of any church or body of believers. Perhaps this stems from church hurt or some other legitimate reason for leaving. But whenever I hear about a Christian that has no church family, I think “Oh boy. That doesn’t sound good.”

A Southern preacher put it this way: “If you’re a lone sheep, you’re not a stud. You’re next.”

Whenever I meet a Christian who gloats in not needing a church, I never feel envy. I feel nervous for them: A believer without a local church is not a self-feeding, super-mature, super-Christian. They are wandering in the woods, oblivious to their need for community. Have you ever met a sheep alone in the wild? Exactly my point.

Imagine meeting someone with a Navy anchor tattooed on his shoulder. You might ask him, “Are you in the Navy?” “Nah,” he replies, “I used to be. But there was too much drama, frustrating leadership, and they made me go to this hour-long meeting every Sunday. It was inconvenient, so I left. I’m still a sailor—I’m just in my own Navy.”

You might reply, “You started your own Navy of one? That sounds like a good way to get captured by the enemy!” A Christian without a herd also sounds like a great way to be captured by the enemy.

The Shepherd Brings Us home

Jesus famously told a parable of a lost sheep in Luke 15.

Most of us revel in the shepherd’s tenacity to leave the herd and journey through the wilderness looking for his lost sheep. It’s a beautiful image of God’s pursuit of his wayward children.

And yet, we often miss what happens next. What does the shepherd do once he finds his lost sheep? “He lays it on his shoulders,” Jesus says, and brings the sheep “home.” Home is the herd—the safest, healthiest, most prosperous place for a sheep to be.

For the record, the shepherd is with the herd. To value a deep relationship with the Lord while seeing no meaningful value in the church family butchers the shepherd imagery of Scripture.

To be far from the herd is to be far from the shepherd (Ps. 79:13). To be one of God’s sheep is to be placed in His “pasture,” within His “gates” (Ps. 100:3–4). When the Good Shepherd speaks to His sheep, He speaks to a herd (John 10:14). When He tends to His sheep, He gathers them as a flock (Isa. 40:11).

Jesus knew there would be Christians who would believe in Him but struggle to find a church family. He declared in John 10:16, “I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”

Getting Involved with the Herd

We must make church involvement a priority.

Perhaps you have a good reason for being unchurched. Maybe pain or disappointment from the family of God has left you with a bad taste in your mouth. If that’s your story, that pain matters, and it shouldn’t be minimized. Just “going back to church” may not be reasonable.

I instead challenge you to take one baby step toward finding a herd. Perhaps you need to seek healing from religious trauma. Maybe joining a Bible study or church small group is your first step. Or maybe you would benefit from simply talking with someone and sharing your story.

Whatever you do, do not remain churchless forever. And do not believe the lie, “I only need Jesus and my Bible. I don’t need a church.” The Bible never says that; not even once. The Good Shepherd never intended His sheep to live outside the flock He gathers and sustains.

You need the Shepherd, and you need His herd. So take one step toward home.



Serve the Meal: Why Preachers Must Trust the Word

By / Jun 30

My wife cooks healthy meals that nourish me day after day. Once I asked how she prepares them. She answered simply: start with good ingredients and use sauces that enhance the meal rather than cover it.

That answer lingered with me as I thought about my role as a preacher of God’s Word. What do I leave my people with? What do I train them to hunger for? Am I helping them taste the nourishment of the meal, or covering it up?

Pastors should think about preaching this way.

At its heart, preaching rests on a theological conviction: God has chosen to work through His Word. Scripture is not merely information about God; it is the instrument through which the Spirit confronts, exposes, and renews His people. The preacher’s task, therefore, is not to compensate for Scripture’s weakness but to faithfully serve its power.

Competing with the Text

In churches that rightly value expository preaching, the danger is rarely abandoning the text—it is subtly competing with it.

I felt this tension in my own ministry. I prepared sermons I believed were faithful, and I even had affirmation from others. Yet among the students and young adults I served, I noticed a disconnect. Their attention was present, but their hearts seemed elsewhere. Their expressions said, “This makes sense, but I don’t see how it has much to do with me.”

So I adjusted. I leaned harder into stories, illustrations, and humor. I felt I had to become the missing link.

And it worked—at least on the surface. Engagement increased. People thanked me for the fun and engaging message. Small group leaders told me their group discussions centered on my funny or heartfelt stories and how relatable they were.

At first, it felt great—it felt like I was doing my job well.

But there was a problem: I was slowly training our people to hunger for what I added rather than the Word of God itself.

The Inherent Power of the Word

Eventually I found myself burned out. One day I knelt before the Lord, anxious and exhausted, because I had nothing left to give.

As I sat there, I opened my Bible and read: “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb. 4:12).

I read the verse again and again.

Then it struck me: the issue was not that expository preaching was ineffective or cold. The issue was that I had under-trusted the power already present in the Word itself.

Scripture does more than inform—it exposes and restores the heart.

Instead of asking how to make sermons more engaging, I began asking a better question: What is this text intending to do to the human heart—not just the mind?

If Scripture is sufficient (2 Tim. 3:16–17), then it already contains both diagnosis and remedy. My task is not to fill a “relevance gap,” but to stay with the text until it does its work.

As this conviction deepened, something in my preaching began to change. I preached more boldly, trusting God’s timing and methods. Immediate response mattered less because I knew the Word would work.

And in time, it did.

Transformation became quieter but more durable. Leaders shared that group members were confessing their own sins rather than criticizing or gossiping about others. Fewer people thanked me for a good message or story; more volunteered to share testimonies of what God was doing in their lives.

As the Word became central, I became less so.

Preachers as Servants, Not Substitutes

A sauce enhances a meal; it does not replace it. In the same way, pastors serve the Word—we do not substitute for it.

When people leave remembering the preacher but not the passage, something has gone wrong.

This does not mean illustrations or personality are wrong. It means they must never compete with the formative work the text is already doing. When we rely too heavily on our contributions, we subtly suggest that Scripture needs our help to be effective.

Often, the deeper issue is impatience—an unwillingness to trust the slow work of the Spirit through the Word.

Serve the Meal

If you are just beginning in preaching ministry, you will feel pressure to perform before you have learned to trust the Spirit’s work through the Word.

When a sermon feels dry, you will be tempted to compensate. And people may respond. They may even applaud. But attention is not the same thing as nourishment.

Stay with the text longer than feels efficient. Learn to trust that the Word is good. Let it do its work. In time, your people won’t just remember your stories—they will be fed by the Bread of Life.

Serve the meal. Trust the Word. Let Christ feed your people.



Acedia: The Noonday Demon We Forgot

By / Jun 25

What Is Acedia?

I’ve spent much of my Christian life wondering what’s wrong with me—more than I care to admit. Why is it that I not only fail to want the things of God, but sometimes feel a strong urge to resist or even reject them? Some years ago, I learned there’s a name for what I’ve felt. Earlier generations of Christians referred to it as acedia (from the Greek akedia, meaning “lack of care”).

Most Christians today have not heard of acedia, but in the fourth century the desert fathers numbered it among the deadliest temptations, precisely because it can attack subtly, quietly, and without warning.

Acedia should not be confused with doubt. A person experiencing acedia still holds to the faith. It is not overt rebellion. People with acedia usually don’t storm away from God. Nor is it identical to depression, though it often resembles it and may accompany it. Acedia is more specific, and in its own way more alarming: It is a deep-seated weariness with the divine good. It is a condition in which God and the means of grace by which we know Him—His word, His table, His people, His presence—become genuinely unwanted.

Drawing from Psalm 91:6, one fourth-century monk—Evagrius of Pontus—nicknamed acedia “the noonday demon.” This nickname was well chosen. Acedia does not usually attack in the morning, when the day is fresh and God’s mercies are new, nor in the evening, when rest is close at hand. Most often, it attacks at midday when the sun is at its highest, the heat is at its worst, and the day feels like it will never end.

Three Symptoms of Acedia

Christian tradition has identified three primary symptoms of acedia.

Lethargy

A heaviness of soul that makes the means of grace feel like burdens rather than gifts. Prayer feels futile. Reading Scripture is tedious. Going to church fills you with dread. It’s not that the means of grace have changed—it’s that your soul has grown numb to them.

Restlessness and Fantasizing

A tendency to fantasize about a different life—a different job, a different city, a different set of circumstances. You find yourself staring out the window and wonder if the grass is greener someplace else, convinced that your circumstances are your biggest problem. Yet the problem is your soul’s refusal to receive the life God has given you. The noonday demon always makes you want to leave.

Irritability

The people and responsibilities God has given become sources of frustration rather than fulfillment. Friends and family become insufferable. The congregation you’ve covenanted with becomes a cacophony of pet peeves. Everything near looks like a problem and everything far feels like the solution. Acedia turns the people you serve into problems you’d rather avoid.

The Downward Spiral

As acedia takes hold, these symptoms become a vicious cycle that feeds itself. Left unnamed and unaddressed, it subtly hollows you out like a tree that’s dying at the root while still budding in spring.

The cruelest effect of acedia is that it shuts down the very means that has power to break its grip: prayer. Not because you deny God’s existence, but because you cannot stomach one more forced or artificial conversation with Him.

You know what Christians are supposed to sound like in prayer. But you can’t bring yourself to pray that way. The distance between how you feel and how you know you should pray feels too wide. So you go silent—and that silence feeds the noonday demon.

Learning to Pray Honestly

Yet—for those experiencing acedia— something worth considering is this: The most honest prayers I’ve ever heard did not come from polished believers, but from people who appear in the pages of Scripture itself.

Jeremiah accuses God of deceiving him. Habakkuk demands to know why God seems silent while the wicked prosper. David asks why God is hiding His face. Elijah sits under a tree and begs to die.

Notice that these are not villains in the biblical story! These are the good guys and examples of faithfulness, and they prayed with a gut-level honesty that would make most churchgoers blush. Which raises a question: What makes that kind of honesty possible? What makes it safe to say, “Lord, I don’t want you right now, and I don’t know how to change that”?

God Can Handle Your Honesty

The answer, I am convinced, lies in one of the most misunderstood doctrines in Christianity: divine impassibility.

In popular theology, impassibility is often portrayed as the cold indifference of a distant creator. However, this doctrine shows us one of the most important ways that the Creator is different from the creature—and why that’s such good news. Impassibility means that God is not subject to sudden emotional change. Unlike you and me, God is not destabilized by shifting circumstances.

Impassibility is not the absence of love, but the infinite perfection of it. Scripture tells us that God is love. Because love is His essence and glory, His love for His people cannot be replaced with a different reaction to your acedia.

This means something extraordinary for the person who no longer wants God and has stopped praying: Your brutal honesty about where you are spiritually cannot make God have a bad day.

Every human relationship involves some level of calculation—what is safe to say, how it will be received, whether it will be misunderstood. In most cases, there is such a thing as being too honest with your friends, your pastor, or even your spouse. But there is no such thing as being too honest with God.

Security in Christ

In Christ, God’s love for you is not contingent on your prayers sounding good. His commitment toward you is not dependent on you feeling the right way or wanting the right things. Because He is impassible, He’s not threatened by your acedia. You can say to Him what you’re too scared to say to anyone else—you don’t have to perform. That’s not because God is indifferent about how you pray, it’s because His Son—your Advocate—is perfecting your prayers at the Father’s right hand. It’s because His Spirit is interceding for you according to the will of God. The entire Trinity is at work to ensure that every prayer you’ve prayed from the throes of acedia will reach the throne of grace.

Perhaps lately you’ve wondered the same thing I’ve wondered so often: What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I want God and His means of grace? Not only is there a name for that feeling you can’t shake, but there’s also a way forward: Pray the unvarnished truth, even if it feels too raw and ugly to face. Your Lord will by no means be damaged by it. To the contrary, in Christ, He will welcome it. After all, He’s God! He can handle it.

Though our desire for Him fluctuates—though there are days when that forgotten noonday demon gets the better of us—the God who hears your prayers will not forget you and does not change. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.