Do You Love His Sheep?

By / Jul 11

In John 21, Jesus does not explicitly mention loving the sheep as a motivating factor for caring for them. However, love for others is a fundamental mark of the Christian.

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:34–35).

Not only that, but Jesus made it clear that the leaders in his kingdom are to be marked by service as well as love:

You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matt. 20:25–28)

Shortly after my retirement from forty-two years of full-time pastoral ministry, someone asked me, “What was the most wonderful part about pastoral ministry?” I replied, “The people.” Then I was asked, “What was the most challenging part of pastoral ministry?” My reply? “The people.” As leaders, we are called to serve the sheep despite the trouble they may cause. There must never be any doubt that we are there to serve the sheep and not vice versa. After all, these precious ones are those whom “he obtained with his own blood” (Acts 20:28). They are not our sheep; they are his sheep. He calls us to serve them and to love them. There is no doubt that some sheep make this commandment very difficult to follow. This is when you need to remember God’s patience with you, one of his sheep, and his gracious forgiveness toward you, a member of his flock.

Conclusion

Peter would not receive thrones or accolades in this life. Immediately after charging him to shepherd the flock, Jesus said, “‘Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.’ (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God)” (John 21:18–19). You may not be called to be a martyr, but as a leader you are called to give your life for the flock in other ways: to sacrifice your time to care for their needs, to share their emotional bur-dens as you walk with them through the valley of the shadow of death, to bear the anxiety that fills your heart when you must admonish a sheep who is straying. The strength to persevere in your calling is found in the renewal of your first love for Christ.

Shepherding is challenging and rewarding—but it won’t bring you the rewards that are often coveted in this world. This is why proper motivation for ministry is so important. Its reward in this life is the joy of serving the One who died for you when you serve those he has entrusted to your care. Jesus’s final words to Peter at the post-resurrection seaside meeting mirrored the words of his first call to Peter: “You [must] follow me” (John 21:22). Peter later wrote to other elders in the church to remind them of the ultimate reward: “When the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory” (1 Peter 5:4).

 

Editor’s Note: Excerpt taken from Timothy Z. Witmer, “Chapter 1: Read This First: Motivation for Shepherds,” The Shepherd’s Toolbox: Advancing You Church’s Shepherding Ministry.



Henry the Baptist Came Preaching: Henry and Baptist Political Theology

By / Jul 10

Was there anything distinctively Baptist about Henry’s political thought? The answer is yes, and it is focused on the first freedom: religious liberty.

Carl F. H. Henry was a Baptist. That might seem like an unnecessary remark in a volume devoted to Baptist political theology, but with Henry it is a point worth making. During his time at Wheaton College, he was convinced of Baptistic views and would be affiliated with Baptist churches and institutions for the remainder of his life.[1] The Baptist understanding of church and state was one of the influences that drew him to Baptist distinctives.[2] But while he made no reservations about his Baptist identity, his “most critical involvements have been outside denominational life.”[3] He is usually recalled as an Evangelical rather than a Baptist and for understandable reasons. He nearly always referred to the “evangelical church” in the singular, “not referring to any particular denomination but to all conservative Protestants committed to the formal and material principles of the Reformation.”[4] This was undoubtedly due to his role as theologian-at-large for a conservative interdenominational evangelicalism.

But how did Henry as a Baptist think about politics? Henry adopted the Baptist understanding of religious liberty, and he articulated a distinctly Baptist version of the first freedom throughout his life.[5] This view originated from the Bible and was filtered through his kingdom framework, stressing the two spheres believers inhabit and concluding that the state ought not dictate to the church and the church ought not overrun the state. For Henry, the church should seek in good faith to evangelize her neighbors but should never “impose upon society at large her theological commitments.”[6] However, because God “wills the state as an instrumentality for preserving justice and restraining disorder,” Christians should engage in political affairs, vote faithfully and intelligently, and seek and hold public office.[7] The church should respect the authority granted to the state by God, but not as a fire wall against any prophetic proclamations. Further, religious liberty provides space for irreligion (though, as we have seen, Henry believed nobody is truly irreligious) as well as those of other faiths. Henry believed evangelicals should “earnestly protect” the freedom of all people—“be they Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Confucian, or whatever—even while we passionately proclaim to all the gospel of Christ.”[8] While Henry’s intellectual efforts were claimed by some among the Religious Right, this was a key place where he distanced himself from the movement. He criticized its tendency to elevate Christian freedom over and above religious freedom and to be less-than interested in religious freedom “across the board” for people of various and differing faith traditions.[9]

Beyond Henry’s view of religious liberty, other Baptist influences can be discerned in his thought, especially in the area of ecclesiology. While Henry has been critiqued for neglecting the locality of the church (due to his scant attention to polity and ordinances), he did appeal to the local church in the construction of his political theology.[10] Because Henry believed “public virtue depends on private character, and private character emerges from convictions about the ultimately real world,” he began at the local level by emphasizing the church’s ministry in the formation of believers who would conduct themselves politically in ways that honored transcendent realities.[11] For Henry, pulpits and pews were integral to Christian political theory—what flowed downstream into political activity, positive or negative, was contingent on ecclesiological faithfulness. As Jonathan Leeman states, “The church’s political nature begins with its own life—with its preaching, evangelism, member oversight and discipline.”[12] Henry recognized and appreciated this in his articulation of political theology. While Baptists are not alone in taking seriously the responsibilities of church membership, one can appreciate Henry the Baptist in how he related church discipline to civil life: “Through government of its own members, the Church indirectly promotes the welfare of society as a whole. . . . When the Church requires her membership to practice Christian principles in everyday life it unavoidably touches upon many areas of conduct subject also to civil legislation.”[13] Henry connected the effectiveness of a proper Christian political vision with the spiritual vitality of the individual and, by extension, the formative role of the covenant community.

Peter Heltzel sees Henry as a “prophetic Baptist” because of Henry’s radical reframing of Baptist cultural engagement.[14] Heltzel gives three reasons to justify this classification: While operating from the Baptist stream of theology, Henry championed the dignity of all people, demonstrated the best of the reformist and revivalist traditions, and rejected theocratic tendencies.[15] And while one wonders whether Henry was as much a “prophetic Baptist” as he was simply a consistent one, the point remains: his Baptist convictions informed his political theology, and Heltzel’s emphasis reminds us of this.

Henry was a consistent Baptist, but he was not an altogether unique Baptist in his conception of political theology. Does he offer anything fresh to Baptists today beyond what has already been said? Certainly, the biblical and theological underpinnings of his political theology remain applicable. The theological intentionality that characterizes his work deserves continued emulation. His engagement with alternate views equips modern readers to understand other political options. But Henry offers more, and this is owing to his historical context.

Henry wrote amid “breathtaking changes in the human experience.”[16] He witnessed massive upheaval in the shared societal assumptions of the nation. While every generation is forced to address new developments, the mid-twentieth century saw a titanic shift in how people thought about every aspect of life. From the discarding of traditional sexuality to secular encroachment in education to new forms of media and entertainment, these years marked a watershed in the life of the nation, and Henry addressed many of these changes through a theological lens and a Baptist emphasis on religious liberty.[17]

Baptists face similar challenges today. While Henry’s articulation of Baptist political theology is not unique to him, the intensity with which he applied it was new, and it is here that modern Baptists can find an ally and guide as they navigate an era still grappling with these issues. Henry’s work on political theology remains a valuable tool, especially because of the kinship between his cultural day and ours.

 

[1] Carl F. H. Henry, “Twenty Years a Baptist,” Foundations 1 (January 1958): 46–47.

[2] Henry, 47.

[3] R. Albert Mohler Jr., “Carl F. H. Henry,” in Theologians of the Baptist Tradition, ed. Timothy George and David S. Dockery (Nashville: B&H, 2001), 292.

[4] Timothy George, “Evangelicals and Others,” First Things 160 (February 2006): 19.

[5] See Henry, The Christian Mindset in a Secular Society, 63–80.

[6] Carl F. H. Henry, Christian Countermoves in a Decadent Culture (Portland: Multnomah, 1986), 118.

[7] Henry, 118.

[8] Henry, The Christian Mindset in a Secular Society, 79.

[9] Carl F. H. Henry, “Lost Momentum: Carl F. H. Henry Looks at the Future of the Religious Right” Christianity Today (September 4, 1987): 31.

[10] See Russell D. Moore, “God, Revelation, and Community: Ecclesiology and Baptist Identity in the Thought of Carl F. H. Henry,” Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 8, no. 4 (Winter 2004).

[11] Henry, Has Democracy Had Its Day?, 41.

[12] Jonathan Leeman, Political Church: The Local Assembly as Embassy of Christ’s Rule, Studies in Christian Doctrine and Scripture (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2016), 52.

[13] Henry, Aspects of Christian Social Ethics, 79.

[14] Heltzel, Jesus and Justice, 76.

[15] Heltzel, 76.

[16] George Marsden, The Twilight of the American Enlightenment: The 1950s and the Crisis of Liberal Belief (New York: Basic Books, 2014), xv.

[17] In addressing such issues, Henry’s practice was to offer a prophetic “no” to issues clearly contrary to Scripture, but not a clear “yes” to specific policy proposals. This was likely due to his reticence to intertwine church and state and to one of the editorial principles that guided his work at CT: “The institutional church has no mandate, jurisdiction, or competence to endorse political legislation or military tactics or economic specifics in the name of Christ.” See Richard J. Mouw, “Carl Henry Was Right,” Christianity Today (January 2010): 32. This hesitancy to offer specific critique or endorsement of legislation became a point of contention for some of his contemporaries who wanted to see stronger engagement with direct policy matters from one of evangelicalism’s chief thinkers. See Lewis B. Smedes, “The Evangelicals and the Social Question,” Reformed Journal 16 (February 1966): 9–13.

 

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Baptist Political Theology and used by permission of B&H Academic. The book is now available everywhere Christian books are sold.



What Makes Baptist Political Theology?

By / Jul 3

The distinctive Baptist contribution to political theology is the doctrine of religious freedom and disestablishment. You will find some mention of religious freedom in almost every chapter of this book. But why? And what does religious freedom mean for the whole body of political theology? Is it the only thing we have to say about politics?

An inner logic connects adult baptism, conversion, religious freedom, and disestablishment. Baptism is a ritual that marks the entry of a penitent person into the church community by symbolizing the washing away of sin, the death of the old self and resurrection of the new self. Such a ritual has no meaning for infants or children who have no awareness or understanding of sin, repentance, or the gospel of Jesus Christ. No one can enter the kingdom of God apart from a conscious, inward, informed turning away from sin and toward Christ—a turning that we call repentance and faith. And if people cannot enter the kingdom, they should not be counted full members of the local church, which is an embassy of the kingdom. The church should strive to have a membership made entirely of regenerate Christians, baptized adults who have made a public profession of faith and covenanted together to hold one another accountable for walking in holiness.

By the same logic, no adult can be coerced into the kingdom—or the church—at the point of the sword. Our doctrine of baptism and the church is the seed from which grows an entire panoply of implications about the state. The state may coerce someone into attending the right church, uttering the right creed, and even comporting their behavior to the appearance of outward righteousness—none of which makes the least contribution to a person’s actual salvation. We call this the doctrine of “soul competency,” the idea that each person is accountable to God for himself or herself and no other authority is ultimately able to effect another’s salvation. It is pointless for the state to use its tools, which touch outward behavior, to try to compel inward belief.

Worse, it is dangerous. The state has an educative function. When it passes laws, it habituates people to believe, even if unconsciously, that those laws reflect standards of good and evil. When the state makes laws endorsing, establishing, or regulating religion, it teaches people to rely on the state’s judgment, rather than the church’s or the words of Scripture, for their salvation. Imagine a citizen goes to church and recites a creed because the state tells him to. That citizen is at grave risk of believing he is a Christian because he is performing the appropriate deeds—without any reference at all to the saving work of Christ on the cross. State-endorsed (and, much more so, state-mandated) religion always has strong tendencies toward a religion of works. And there are further dangers, including the long history of states hijacking religion to use as propaganda for whatever political purpose the ruler has in mind. State religion cheapens religion, turning religious authorities into cheerleaders and boosters of the status quo, with all its injustices, and of whomever exercises power, regardless of what that power is used for. State religion has no prophetic witness and no independent voice.

The idea of religious freedom and disestablishment is one of the most revolutionary ideas in world history. Virtually every state in history allied with a religion or, when they banned conventional religion, invented new ones (like communism). The Baptist doctrine of religious freedom amounts to a claim that every state in history got it wrong. It would be breathtaking in its audacity, except for subsequent history in which religious freedom spread worldwide and vindicated the belief that states and churches relate best when they are institutionally and jurisdictionally separate. Every state on earth has (at least on paper) agreed to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, article 18, which affirms that “everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.”[1]

Does the Baptist political witness end there? Do we have anything else to say? In fact, religious freedom and disestablishment, as revolutionary ideas, cannot but have far-reaching consequences throughout the full range of cultural, social, and political issues. Most importantly, religious freedom and disestablishment mean the state has limited jurisdiction. There are matters over which it has no legitimate authority. Religious freedom and disestablishment are thus intrinsically opposed to totalitarianism and, at least, highly suspicious of softer forms of authoritarianism. Totalitarian government is sinful and anti-Christian by its very nature; authoritarian government with no check on its power is inherently dangerous and carries the potential for overstepping its bounds. Baptists should be the first to warn against the encroaching power of states that try to grow beyond their rightful boundaries.

That means Baptists are naturally sympathetic to forms of government that recognize their own limits, have checks on their power, and respect the religious rights of their people. That natural sympathy is reinforced by Baptists’ own practice of congregational autonomy and self-government. Baptists practice self-government among themselves, which habituates them to its rhythms in society at large. That is why, in practice and in history, Baptists are almost exclusively republicans and democrats (with a small r and a small d) who believe in some version of representative government and in civil and political rights. That is not quite the same as saying that Baptists believe the Bible mandates democracy. We respect the authority of the Bible enough to reserve our strongest conclusions for what is explicit and clear in Scripture. But for Baptists, the logic linking biblical revelation to religious freedom and congregational autonomy and, thence, to free government is simpler and stronger than for any other Christian tradition. We have always thrown in our lot with free government. Most Christian traditions in the modern era support basic civil and political rights and find biblical support for them in the idea that all humans bear God’s image and have coequal moral worth. But Baptists add our distinctive doctrine of religious freedom and disestablishment, an additional bulwark against authoritarianism and a cornerstone of free government.

This is an especially needful truth to revive today. We live amidst an upsurge in nationalist sentiment and rising authoritarian powers, which bring twin dangers to the right relationship of church and state. On the one hand, nationalism has historically almost always come tinged with religious rhetoric, religious symbolism, and even religious demagoguery. Statesmen know the power of religion, and if they can tap into that power and redirect it to themselves, they will. On the other hand, in reaction, nationalists’ opponents often blame religious institutions and religious leaders, equate religion with the political agenda they oppose, and seek to shrink, ban, or silence religion in the public square. That means religion is in danger of hijacking by one side and proscription on the other; of being used and manipulated; and of being ignored, sidelined, and neglected.

In this context the Baptist political witness is crucial. More than any other Christian tradition, we can insist on the importance of disestablishment and warn of the dangers of being co-opted by those in power—at the same time and with the same framework that we insist on the vital necessity of religious freedom and a robust and vocal Christian presence in the public square. Christians must advocate for justice, peace, and flourishing—our Lord commands it of us—which means we must be active, present, and free to believe and speak. We must also insist on the state’s limitation and the church’s independence, which means our presence in the public square is never an effort to take it over in the name of serving it.

We have traveled a great distance from the seemingly small matter of believer’s baptism. But that is the legacy of revolutionary ideas. They work their way through the architecture of ideas and recenter relationships in new ways. And the Baptist revolution in religious freedom and disestablishment—in free government and republicanism—is not done yet.

 

[1] United Nations, Universal Declaration of Human Rights, article 18, un.org, accessed October 27, 2022, https://www.un.org/en/about-us/universal-declaration-of-human-rights.

 

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Baptist Political Theology and used by permission of B&H Academic. The book is now available everywhere Christian books are sold.



Interpretations of the Reformation

By / Jun 6

Editor’s Note: Taken from The Reformation as Renewal: Retrieving the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church by Matthew Barrett. Copyright 2023 by Zondervan Academic. Used by permission of Zondervan. www.harpercollinschristian.com. The book is now available for purchase anywhere books are sold.

Over the last century, the Reformation’s self-confessed identity (catholicity) has not always been appreciated or understood with accuracy. Consider several reasons why.

Lamenting the Reformation as Schism and the Seed of Secularism: The Secularization Narrative

Interpreted as a deviation from the church catholic and its view of God and the world, the Reformation has been labeled the birth mother of all that is schismatic and sectarian on one hand and all that is modern and secular on the other hand. Such an approach takes on many different shades.

First, some historians focus mostly on schism and blame the intrinsic divisiveness of the Reformation on various factors. For example, the Reformers taught the priesthood of believers, a doctrine that decreased the gap between clergy and laity. When coupled with the belief in sola scriptura, each Christian became his own arbitrator, deciding for himself what the Bible really said. This is Protestantism’s dangerous idea, and it was not only revolutionary but also inspired revolution itself. Its effects were ravaging: ecclesiastical and political authorities were questioned, which at times led to rebellion and revolution.20

For others, the Reformation’s schismatic nature stemmed from a posture of criticism that precluded catholicity from the start. Even the label Protestantism reveals a fixation with protest that is destructive for Christianity, past, present, and future. The Reformation, therefore, was tragic because it did not unite but divided Christendom.21 Depending on how sympathetic this interpretation is toward Protestantism, it may even label the Reformers as schismatics.

Blaming the Reformation for schism may be an ongoing, contemporary maneuver, but it is also as old as the Reformation itself. In the sixteenth century, Rome blamed the Reformers for schism in the church, and once the Council of Trent concluded, this accusation became formal, setting the trajectory for the centuries ahead. This interpretation—the Reformation as a schismatic sect—has been recapitulated by Roman Catholics since.22

Second, if some interpreters blame schism on the Reformation, others hold the Reformers accountable for an unwitting secularism.23 The two interpretations are not unrelated. To hold the Reformers responsible for secularism, one must first decide that the Reformers were in some sense revolutionaries—religious revolutionaries but perhaps even political revolutionaries. The method of interpretation is not all that different either: the Reformers created this revolution by heralding the primacy of Scripture, which then gave every individual and every society the right to decide for themselves what they believed. The Reformers could not agree with each other, and the history of Protestantism since has followed suit with one denominational split after another. Hermeneutical plural- ism has resulted in religious pluralism, as everyone claims to possess the only true interpretation of the text, and anyone can claim an exclusive legitimate application of Scripture to church and society. Sola scriptura is dangerous because it rebels against the authority of the church for the sake of the individual’s rights. That, in turn, is a recipe for secularism, in which everyone becomes his own authority. Granted, the Reformers did not intend to create a secularist revolution. Yet as soon as they turned to the individual’s interpretation of the Bible, they elevated a subjectivism that could only lead to modernity and the triumph of the self over received ecclesiastical beliefs.

Such an interpretation depends on a reading of the late medieval era as well. On one hand, this interpretation observes a true shift that started with Duns Scotus in the thirteenth century but culminated with the via moderna (mod- ern way), as represented by William of Ockham in the fourteenth century and Gabriel Biel in the fifteenth century. The via moderna was a reaction against the via antiqua (old way), especially as it was embodied in Thomas Aquinas. As chapter 4 will explore, Thomas believed that the Creator and the creature can be properly related to one another by an analogy of being.24 The incomprehensible God is infinite and eternal, while the creature is finite and temporal. He is pure actuality itself, while the creature is defined by a passive potency—God is being, but the creature is becoming. Therefore, predication must occur within the parameters of likeness.25 For instance, the creature may possess love in his heart, but however pure that love may be, it only images the love of God. For unlike the creature’s love, God’s love is an infinite love, an eternal love, an immutable love, and a most holy love. Analogical predication assumes a Creator-creature paradigm of participation. Since God is simple (without parts), all that is in God is God. As Thomas said, “There is nothing in God that is not the divine being itself, which is not the case with other things.”26 God does not depend on another being for his being, but he is life in and of himself (aseity). Therefore, this self-sufficient God is the source of the creature’s being and happiness. In him the creature lives and moves and has his being, as Paul told the Athenians, quoting their own Greek poets in Acts 17:28.27 Participation, in other words, depends on the analogy of being.

–

  1. Whether or not they are lamenting the Reformation as schism, some frame the Reformation as schism, or a break to start a new church: e.g., Ryrie, Protestants; McGrath, Christianity’s Dangerous Idea; and McGrath, Historical Theology, 125.
  2. Leithart, The End of Protestantism. Vanhoozer responds to Leithart’s interpretation of the Reformation with the following correction: “However, contra Leithart, the fundamental gesture of Protestantism is not negative but The Reformers did not view themselves as schismatics, nor were they. To protest is to testify for something, namely, the integrity of the gospel, and, as we will see, this includes the church’s cath- olicity. It also includes prophetic protest (the negative gesture) whenever and wherever the truth of the gospel is at risk. Unity alone (sola unitats) is not enough unless the unity in question is a unitas of veritas (truth).” Vanhoozer then offers his own interpretation, one far more in line with this book: “the only true Protestant—a biblical, Christ-centered Protestant, whose conscience is indeed captive to the gospel—is a catholic Protestant.” Vanhoozer, Biblical Authority after Babel, 15.
  3. E.g., Denifle, Luther et le Luthéranisme, ch. 4.
  4. Gregory, Unintended Reformation. For a more recent example of a scholar who sees himself carrying the baton of the Bred Gregory narrative, see Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages.
  5. “The forms of the things God has made do not measure up to a specific likeness of the divine power; for the things that God has made receive in a divided and particular way that which in Him is found in a simple and universal way.” Aquinas, SCG 32.2.
  6. Predication is the “act of affirming something of a subject” or “assigning something to a class” or “naming something as possessing some act or perfection or as belonging to some other act or perfection,” may be univocal, equivocal, or analogical. Analogical predication is “attributing a perfection to an object in a sense partially the same and partially different from the attribute of the same when applied to some other objections.” For both definitions, see Wuellner, Dictionary of Scholastic Philosophy, s.v. “predication.”

 



On Conversion as Our Aim

By / Jun 1

The grand object of the Christian ministry is the glory of God. Whether souls are converted or not, if Jesus Christ be faithfully preached, the minister has not labored in vain, for he is a sweet savor unto God as well in them that perish as in them that are saved. Yet, as a rule, God has sent us to preach in order that through the gospel of Jesus Christ the sons of men may be reconciled to him. Here and there a preacher of righteousness, like Noah, may labor on and bring none beyond his own family circle into the ark of salvation and another, like Jeremiah, may weep in vain over an impenitent nation; but, for the most part, the work of preaching is intended to save the hearers. It is ours to sow even in stony places, where no fruit rewards our toil; but still we are bound to look for a harvest and mourn if it does not appear in due time.

The glory of God being our chief object, we aim at it by seeking the edification of saints and the salvation of sinners. It is a noble work to instruct the people of God and to build them up in their most holy faith: we may by no means neglect this duty. To this end we must give clear statements of gospel doctrine, of vital experience, and of Christian duty, and never shrink from declaring the whole counsel of God. In too many cases sublime truths are held in abeyance under the pretense that they are not practical, whereas the very fact that they are revealed proves that the Lord thinks them to be of value, and woe unto us if we pretend to be wiser than he. We may say of any and every doctrine of Scripture: “To give it then a tongue is wise in man.”

If any one note is dropped from the divine harmony of truth, the music may be sadly marred. Your people may fall into grave spiritual diseases through the lack of a certain form of spiritual nutriment that can only be supplied by the doctrines you withhold. In the food that we eat there are ingredients that do not at first appear to be necessary to life, but experience shows that they are requisite to health and strength. Phosphorus will not make flesh, but it is wanted for bone; many earths and salts come under the same description—they are necessary in due proportion to the human economy. Even thus certain truths that appear to be little adapted for spiritual nutriment are, nevertheless, very beneficial in furnishing believers with backbone and muscle and in repairing the varied organs of Christian manhood. We must preach “the whole truth,” that the man of God may be thoroughly furnished unto all good works.

Our great object of glorifying God is, however, to be mainly achieved by the winning of souls. We must see souls born unto God. If we do not, our cry should be that of Rachel “Give me children, or I die.” If we do not win souls, we should mourn as the husbandman who sees no harvest, as the fisherman who returns to his cottage with an empty net, or as the huntsman who has in vain roamed over hill and dale. Ours should be Isaiah’s language uttered with many a sigh and groan “Who has believed our report? And to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” The ambassadors of peace should not cease to weep bitterly until sinners weep for their sins.

 

Excerpted with permission from Lectures to My Students, Deluxe Edition by Charles H. Spurgeon, introduction and edited by Jason K. Allen. Copyright 2023, B&H Publishing.



Jonah’s Audience Unlocks Our Preaching

By / May 10

I don’t remember a lot from Sunday School as a kid, but one picture that remains clear in my mind was coloring the picture of Jonah in the belly of the fish. That picture, which so beautifully engages imaginations young and old, makes the Book of Jonah exciting and difficult to preach.

With a familiar story like Jonah, I have had to fight the temptation to skip exegetical work because I think I know what is going on already. This familiarity makes preaching the first two chapters easy but the last two quite puzzling. In case you need a reminder in the first two chapters, Jonah heads the opposite way on a boat from the mission that God gave him. God sends a storm and the sailors, after trying everything else, listen to Jonah and throw him overboard. God appoints a fish to swallow Jonah. In the depths of the sea, Jonah cries out to God and the fish spits him onto shore. In chapters 3 and 4, Jonah goes to Nineveh. After a rather short sermon, the city repents and God does not destroy them. The story concludes with an angry prophet outside of the city who does not understand God’s mercy. It ends with a final question from God to Jonah: will the prophet begrudge God’s grace? The preacher is left with a different question. What do you do with an ending like that? The whole book becomes clearer when we consider the audience to whom the book of Jonah was written.

Jonah’s Audience

This is the spot where familiarity can really hinder clarity. We know the story, so we don’t take the time to dive into the context. Think about it. Jonah was written at a particular time for a particular people. That’s true of every book. Jonah was not written to the prophet; he is the main character! Jonah was also not written to the Ninevites. If it were for the Ninevites, then it would not have ended up in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jonah was originally intended for the people of Israel. It was for the Northern Kingdom who saw a great enemy named Assyria casting a shadow over their land whose capitol was Nineveh. Understanding the audience of Jonah helps us answer the question of Jonah. Namely, trust God when what he appointed is different than what you expected.

Appointed vs. Expected

From the beginning of the story until the end, God is doing something different than what Jonah and the original audience would have expected. The call to go to a rival nation is not expected. The storm that frightens the sailors was appointed by God but was far greater than anyone expected. The fish was appointed by God and saved the rebellious prophet. The prophet proclaimed God’s Word and the Ninevites (of all people!) unexpectedly repent. Finally, the Lord speaks to Jonah after showing His mercy to the Ninevites and we don’t expect Jonah’s reaction. All of it is about expectations and reality, what the prophet expects and what God appoints. Jonah expected destruction. He wanted to sit and watch God destroy the enemy of God’s people. Yet God was merciful, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. God had one last thing to appoint for Jonah and the people of Israel to understand. The Lord appointed the plant, the sun, and the worm to give Jonah relief and take it away. God appointed the plant to show mercy for a moment in hopes that Jonah would love the mercy more than he hated the Ninevites. But sometimes when what we expect is different than what God appoints, we cannot move beyond it. God wants Jonah to love His character and to desire it for himself.

Loving God’s Character

Jonah knew God’s character. He quotes the familiar refrain in Jonah 4:2 from Exodus 34:6, “I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster.” Beyond that, Jonah referenced at least 10 Psalms in his prayer of chapter 2. Jonah knows God’s Word and he know God’s character. The question for Jonah and for us is whether that knowledge will move from our heads to our hearts. Jonah rages at God’s kindness to his enemies. The Israelite audience was confronted with such an unexpected outpouring of grace. So, the question at the end is how we respond to God’s character. God is gracious and merciful, and we cannot despise God for being who He is. Will we let the message of grace and mercy come into our hearts even when it is extended where it is not expected? Will we be amazed by grace or offended by it? God’s grace is truly amazing in that it comes to all who will trust in Christ, a different prophet who sat outside a different city and was in anguish enough to die. His anguish was not anger; it was grief and it was for us. So, let’s love God’s character and be amazed at the grace given to rebels and enemies like you and me.



Go Outside: An Interview with Jared C. Wilson

By / May 2

Jared C. Wilson serves as Assistant Professor of Pastoral Ministry and Author in Residence at Midwestern Seminary as well as General Editor at For The Church. In his most recent publication titled Go Outside: And 19 Other Keys to Thriving in Your 20s (Moody Publishers), Jared and Becky Wilson share advice they’d give their younger selves. In 20 short chapter, they discuss the value of time spent with Jesus, taking care of your mind and body, how chasing your dreams is overrated, and more.

Tony Merida, Pastor at Imago Dei Church, commented on the new publication, “Go Outside is a treasure trove of wisdom for all present, future, and even former twentysomethings. It is filled with wit, written from a loving heart, and has the markers of battle-tested wisdom from years of serving this age group.”

Ronni Kurtz, Assistant Professor of Theology at Cedarville University, also said, “This book is a wonderful exercise in showing that gospel-centrality and practical advice are not at odds with one another.”

Costi Hinn, Teaching Pastor at Shepherd’s House Bible Church, said, “I can only wish that this book was written when I was in my twenties, but find great joy that countless lives will have this godly insight for one of the most foundational seasons of life.”

In a recent interview, Jared Wilson answered a few questions about his latest publication and the importance of the book of Acts.

For The Church: Why this book now?

Jared C. Wilson: If not now, when?

Just kidding.

In terms of the audience opportunity for this book, Becky and I both feel like young people are more hungry for mentorship and godly counsel than they’ve been in a long time. They are certainly more interested in it than our generation was at their age. In our day of increasing moral chaos and spiritual confusion, I think a book that carefully and clearly re-articulates the basic stuff of Christian spirituality for young adults in a practical way and really meets a need.

In terms of our timing in writing it, I would say that in now our middle-aged years we’ve spent over a decade now ministering directly to twentysomethings and speaking into their lives, and after thirty years of adulthood ourselves, feel equipped to share some of the most valuable lessons we’ve learned along the way.

FTC: What was it like writing a book with your wife?

JCW: It was fun! Though I should add that we didn’t exactly write the book together. Meaning, we didn’t collaborate on each chapter, but rather, divided up the chapter outline between ourselves. Becky came up with ten topics she wanted to address, and I came up with ten I wanted to address. We took our own time writing our chosen chapters.

The one thing Becky has enjoyed pointing out is that it took her months to write her half of the book, while it only took me a few days to write mine. You could conclude from this discrepancy that I’m a more natural writer than her, or you could conclude that she’s a more thoughtful writer than me. Take your pick.

FTC: What might readers be surprised about after reading this book?

JCW: I think most readers might be surprised at how relatable and refreshing the book is. Most things like this – stuff young people need to know – either comes across very legalistic or very dry. Both of us have good senses of humor. I write with a lot of illustrations and stories, and Becky writes with a very laid-back, unassuming, non-judgmental tone. Even when we’re giving advice or reminding our readers about things Christians must do or should do, we are constantly pointing young people back to the grace in the good news for their assurance and sense of okay-ness. In fact, there is more than one chapter on the importance of knowing God approves us fully because of Jesus, not our religious performance or spiritual production.

FTC: Which 2-3 of the 20 principles in the book do you wish you’d applied in your twenties?

JCW: Well, all of them! That’s the premise of the book: If we could go back, what are the 20 things we’d tell our younger selves. But if I had to pick just 3 of the chapters that are most important to me, I would say:

Chapter 4 – Porn is more toxic than you realize

Chapter 18 – Center on the gospel

Chapter 20 – You are not only as good as what you haven’t done

These three chapters probably best outline the plot points of my own testimony of sin and redemption in my twenties.

FTC: What’s one main point you hope readers take away from this book?

JCW: The biggest thing I hope readers take away is just how big Jesus is! How much he can be trusted. How investing in our friendship with him in our early adulthood isn’t just a way to be one of the “Christian college kids,” but the way we make sure we start out on a track of life that will fill our joy and keep us from looking back when we hit our thirties and forties and beyond with regrets and desires for a do-over.

 

Editor’s Note: Go Outside: And 19 Other Keys to Thriving in Your 20s is now available for purchase.



True Servanthood in the Footsteps of Jesus

By / Apr 26

Editor’s Note: This post is excerpted from A Ransom for Many by John J.R. Lee and Daniel Brueske (Lexham Press, 2023). This book is now available for purchase.

We believe that the term “service,” as applied to the mission of Jesus, must be understood in a nuanced and refined manner. Its overuse in our era has cheapened the concept. But in Jesus’s case, “service” meant embracing the most shameful and despised fate of his time—death on a Roman cross. It meant being condemned by his fellow Jews as one accursed by Israel’s God (cf. Gal 3:13; Deut 21:23). It meant being mocked by the Romans as a failed insurrectionist (cf. Mark 15:16–20). And the final phrase of Mark 10:45 (“to give his life as a ransom for many”) points to the ultimate expression of the Son of Man’s radical servanthood, his atoning death. Jesus did not allow his unique identity and authority to exempt him from the kingdom principle of sacrificial servanthood (cf. Phil 2:6–8). Instead, he lived it out fully (Mark 10:45) and thus provided the foundation and prototype for his followers’ radical servanthood in his footsteps (10:43–44; cf. 9:35–37;).

This emphasis on sacrificial servanthood is not limited to Mark’s Gospel alone. It is found across the New Testament (John 15:12–13; Eph 5:2; 1 John 3:16). Church history is replete with examples of radical servanthood in the footsteps of Jesus. Just beyond the apostolic era, 1 Clement 55:2 reports, “We know that many among ourselves have delivered themselves to bondage, that they might ransom others. Many have sold themselves to slavery, and receiving the price paid for themselves have fed others” (trans. J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer). This reported practice among early Christians reflects a literal application of Mark 10:45.2 Other examples of Christian servanthood across the centuries are not hard to find. One of the most notable examples is Francis of Assisi. Before his conversion, Francis felt a strong aversion to the sight of lepers. But after his conversion, he went to live in a leprosarium to care for those with the disease.3

Mark 10:45 does not describe service in general and abstract terms. Instead, the portrayal is quite specific and personal. The service in Mark 10:45 is a service that a particular person, Jesus, has offered in a specific manner at a specific time and place, namely, giving his life sacrificially for the sake of others by being crucified on a Roman cross. And he did this despite the defeat that such a death signified in the eyes of his contemporaries. If we want to follow in Jesus’s footsteps, we must also do so in a personal way in our own specific time and space. The readers of this book will likely have one or two people they can quickly identify as their models of sacrificial service. For some, time would fail them to tell about their heroes of Christ-like servanthood (cf. Heb 11:32).

However, following Jesus’s example of servanthood may also take less conspicuous forms and may have a more manageable and mundane expression. For instance, welcoming neighbors over for dinner, staying late after church to vacuum the building, serving in a food line that feeds the hungry, or offering to babysit for a single parent can all be meaningful ways of serving others sacrificially. The core thread common to each of these acts is a willingness to subordinate our liberties, comforts, rights, and sometimes even our necessities to those of others, and, in so doing, we embody Jesus’s own habit of sacrificial service in a small yet meaningful way.

To be clear, Mark’s message is not that we must suffer or serve in order to get into heaven. Suffering and service do not earn our redemption and reconciliation with God. And not everyone who follows Jesus will face the same obstacles. Interestingly, Acts 12:2 mentions the death of James, which likely occurred only a decade or so after the request of Mark 10:37, yet church tradition indicates that his brother John lived to an old age. Likewise, in John 21:18–24, the resurrected Messiah foretells two very different paths for Peter and “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” Mark does not claim that we will all experience the same afflictions and persecutions or identify the same needs among our neighbors.

Instead, the message of Mark is that those who follow Jesus must be willing to complete the journey. It is not enough simply to hear the message of the kingdom (Mark 4:4, 15). It is not even enough to receive that message with joy and start following Jesus if we are not committed to remaining with him to the end (4:5–7, 16–19). It is only those who receive the message of the kingdom and bear the fruit of loyal perseverance—committed to following Jesus wherever he leads and whatever it costs—who can say that they have truly followed him (4:8, 20). If you consider yourself a disciple of Jesus, it is worthwhile to ask yourself periodically, “What obstacles might deter me from staying on the path?” This world offers many distractions to lure us off the path of discipleship. For the rich man, it was his earthly treasure (10:17–22). For James and John, it was the pursuit of honor (10:35–37). For Peter, it was an aversion to shame and suffering (8:32; 14:66–72). What tempts you to sidestep the shame and suffering that may come with following Jesus? What are you unwilling to give in service to Jesus and others?

The spirit of competition and worldly success that once possessed James and John (10:35–40) is still rampant in our generation. Even churches, Christian institutions, and missions organizations are not immune. Too often, we view one another as competitors, not recognizing that Jesus sharply opposed this sort of perspective. We must again listen to Jesus, who sharply contrasted his way (Mark 1:3; cf. Isa 40:3) with that of the world: “it shall not be so among you”(10:43, ESV)! We who would follow Jesus on the way to the cross must deny ourselves and take up our own crosses (8:34), and we must learn to embrace the way of God rather than the ways of the world (8:33).

2 Garland, A Theology of Mark’s Gospel, 453n62.

3 Augustine Thompson, Francis of Assisi: The Life (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2013), 18–19.



Encourage Discouraged Pastors

By / Apr 18

There are plenty of pastors with generous smiles on their faces each Sunday who, deep down, are very disheartened.

Pastoring a church is hard work. For one thing, it is usually thankless. I know there are some churches that seem to remember their pastors with such fanfare, but most do not ever esteem them. They don’t work for just the members ultimately, so they can get over it, but never hearing those words, “Thanks for what you do, pastor,” is discouraging. But you can remedy this one, can’t you? Perhaps right now is the best time to write that email or note, or to make a phone call.

Some pastors get discouraged because their people expect a Dr. Internationally Known Mountain, when what they really are stuck with is only Brother Molehill. Expectations are at an all time high in these days of exceptional media coverage. Every pastor is happy when a member listens to sermons every day, but he knows he doesn’t measure up to the gifted pastors these people hear most of the time.

Some are discouraged because they are physically worn out. It just takes a few sensitive members to help him remedy this problem by pulling him away from normal tasks for a break. A member who makes special efforts to show love to his or her pastors will never be forgotten. I used to have a man who took me to lunch each week just to talk. He would usually say something to encourage me and even slip me a $20 bill. He helped me immensely to keep perspective. Perhaps you can pull your pastor away for that fishing trip or golf outing. Such things are like a drink of cool water on a dry, dusty day. Paul said of Philemon, “You’ve often refreshed me.” Be like that.

Some are discouraged because they cannot resolve long-standing conflicts in the church. Churches have conflicts because they have people. Even the early churches had them. But pastors take these very hard, and long for conflict resolution.

Well, there may be other reasons pastors are discouraged. They aren’t perfect and can even bring more on themselves than is dealt to them by the church’s health.

What can you do? Perhaps more than anything else, just become your pastor’s friend. Friendship has a healing aspect to it. Open your home and care for them. Think of the pastor’s wife and kids. They need you also. I doubt that you could possible know what intentional love can do for those God has, in his providence, put over you in the Lord. Do what friends do—take them extra vegetables from the garden, invite them along for your trip to the Mexican restaurant in town, buy that scarf that you think the pastor’s wife will like. You’re not buying friendship, but nourishing it.

“Let them do this [the management of the church] with joy and not with grief, for this would be unprofitable to you,” the writer of Hebrews said. But I know you church members pretty well. When you get to thinking about it, you can do some amazing things for the pastors God has given you. Get started right now.

“Esteem them highly in love.”

Editor’s note: This article was originally published at ccwtoday.org. 



The Gospel Never Does Nothing

By / Apr 6

Christ who is the content of the gospel leaves no one in a neutral state.[1]

—Herman Bavinck

The one thing the gospel never does is nothing. Under the preaching of the gospel, no one remains the same. We are either moving closer to God or further from him. No one remains neutral. No one remains unchanged. We soften, or we harden.

Encountering Jesus is a life-altering event every time it happens. His word is always fresh. Even if we believe we know it, because he is God, his word is not returning void. Every time it is spoken, something happens. We fall in love with him, or we grow to despise him. We lean in, or we turn away. In every church meeting every Sunday morning, there is a massive movement in the hearts of people all over the world because of the gospel of Christ. Because Christ is the gospel, when we hear his word, we hear him, and when we hear him, we either fall down before him, or we run the other way. The one thing we don’t do is nothing.

It’s not always easy to perceive this movement. Perhaps we notice the leaning in more than the turning away. Yes, we can sprint in the other direction, but that’s not how it works for most of us. It’s more like drifting away at sea. The waves of doubt take us out. The depths of sin call us away. We move inch by inch, and we don’t see it until we’re further than we ever imagined we’d be.

Just as we can drift away, we can also inch closer. When Jesus melts our heart again and again, when his gospel surprises us with its grace and mercy, when we feel his love, and keep letting his love come into our heart, we step closer to him.

The one thing the gospel never does is nothing. No one remains in a neutral state.

God is in control of all things. He is sovereign. But he does ask us to believe him. Our only part in the gospel is our response to it. We either accept it or deny it. We either open our arms or cross them. We run toward or away. But we cannot stand motionless.

The good news of the gospel, of course, is that even if we jump a ship to Tarsus like our old friend Jonah, and even if a great fish swallows us up after we are thrown overboard, there is still hope. God still hears our cries in the deep, dark places of the stormiest sea. The gospel never does nothing, and because of that, there is always hope of redemption, even as there is always the danger of drifting away.

As long as Jesus is on this throne, as long as the Spirit blows like the wind wherever it will, as long as God is still a Father, there is hope. As we continually expose ourself to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and as we just open our empty hands before him, we can trust that he will do his work. He will not leave us as we are. He will increase our joy. He will soften our sorrows. He will heal our wounds. He will, if he must, even cause the fish to get sick and spit us upon his shores to witness his redemption.

God works in ways we can’t understand. The one thing we can be sure of, always, is that he works. He never does nothing. That’s good news.

[1] Herman Bavinck, The Wonderful Works of God: Instruction on the Christian Religion according to the Reformed Confession(Glenside, PA: Westminster Seminary Press, 2019), 399.

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