The Trinity’s Fruitful Root

By / Jul 8

While the controversies surrounding the Nicene Creed of the fourth century did not directly concern the Father, they did radically shape how the Father is conceived in relation to the Son and Spirit – that is, the way in which he is Father. And while the historical script from AD 325 to 381 advances the status of the Son and Holy Spirit, it does so in the environment of a long shadow cast by the Father. Giving attention to this “shadow” helps us understand what it means to confess, as the Church does at the opening of the Nicene Creed, “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty.”

The Father’s “Shadow”

Pre-Nicene theologians would often speak of the dependence of the Son and Spirit upon the Father and, thereby, argue to some extent for the superiority of the Father. The most influential pre-Nicene theologian for setting the script of the fourth century was Origen of Alexandria. He is a fascinating figure because his theology influenced both sides of the Nicene debates. With regard to the Father, it did not appear to be Origen’s intention to subordinate the Son and Spirit to him. Nonetheless, his theology communicated a clear separation between the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

The pro-Nicene theologians of the fourth century advance the theological script with the same biblical characters but with greater attention to the whole of Scripture’s pattern of naming the persons of the Godhead. The beneficial result was they faithfully drew out both the unity and diversity between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Within this maturing story culminating in the Nicene Creed, the fourth-century script focuses upon the status of Son and Holy Spirit yet does so always in “dialogue” with the Father.

One might say that rather than being a central protagonist in the narrative surrounding the Nicene Creed, the Father is a “supporting” character; but only a supporting character in the sense that Gandalf is a supporting character within the story of The Lord of the Rings. Gandalf is a character who is not central in terms of physical or verbal presence, yet nonetheless dominates indirectly through his specific background and relations with the main characters. The example of Gandalf highlights a character who is often known through how others respond to him and how he affects key situations in the narrative. The Lord of the Rings is not about him per se, but the story cannot be told without him and the intricate web of relations his character upholds. He looms over everything.

The remainder of this article with illustrate this precise point through two pro-Nicene theologians who were crucial to the final victory of Nicene thought in the Church. First, we will learn from Hilary of Poitiers (AD c. 315 – 367) who was from modern day France and wrote in Latin yet travelled to the eastern part of the Roman Empire and dialogued with Greek-speaking theologians. Second, we will learn from Gregory of Nazianzus (AD 329 – 390) who is known as one of the Cappadocian Fathers. Gregory was from modern day Turkey and for a time presided over the proceedings of the Council of Constantinople (381), which was responsible for the final form of the Nicene Creed we recite today.

Hilary of Poitiers on the Fruitful Father

The focus of Hilary’s Trinitarian arguments was on generation from the Father, which he often articulated in terms of an eternal “birth” (Latin: Nativitas). Hilary’s theological reasoning began with the Trinitarian names revealed in the New Testament. In particular, in his monumental work On the Trinity Hilary focuses on the words “Father” and “Son” as leading to the centrality of the birth to our understanding of the Trinity. When we confesses “Father” or “Son” we are immediately led, through these divine names and their mutual entailments, to a confession that the Son is begotten of the Father. Through the eternal birth Hilary stresses that the Father and Son have the same nature, while also insisting that there exists a real distinction (though not a separation) between them. The unity and distinction of the Father and Son revealed through the birth is explained within Hilary’s thought by examining the “gift” given from the Father and received by the Son.

In explaining the eternal birth Hilary uses languages that initially makes an orthodox Trinitarian theologian nervous:

“The Father is greater than the Son, and surely greater, since he allows him to be as great as he himself is, since he bestows the image of his unbegotten nature upon him by the mystery of the birth, since he begets him from himself into his own form.”[1]

While Hilary will use language of “greater” for the Father because of his gift of the divine nature to the Son through the order of the eternal birth, at the same time he will say the Son is “not less” because of his full reception of the gift from the Father.

Through Hilary’s emphasis on eternal birth he highlights what he sees as the Father’s identity. Though he is appropriately reticent in his speech on this point, what explains the Father’s giving through the birth points to something about the Father’s character. In On the Trinity 9.61 Hilary says, “God does not know how to ever be anything else than love, nor to be anything else than the Father.”

This statement comes in the context of an account for divine simplicity, so when God is referred to as “Father” he is wholly “Father.” That is, there is not one “part” of God that is Father and another that is not: “The Father is the Father of everything that is in him and all that he has…. He is wholly the Father of him who receives his being from him.”[2] For Hilary, the perfection of God is seen in his simplicity where he is Father of “all his own attributes which are in the one whom he has begotten from himself .”[3]

It is at this point, where Hilary is considering the birth in simplicity in light of the Father’s love, that he gives a striking line: “the perfect birth of the Son, with all of these attributes, completes him as the Father.”[4] In what sense can one who is perfect in himself as Father be completed? While it strains our theological categories, if we read out of the character of the Father as the eternal “giver” out of his “love,” then to fully give of himself “completes him as the Father.” In other words, out of his love the Father gives everything to the Son who receives it perfectly. In his eternal giving, he is fully working out of who he is as Father and manifesting his unique character. To confess “the Father Almighty” in the Nicene Creed, then, is to speak of the Father’s superabundant fruitfulness revealed in generation—a fruitfulness which lovingly establishes equality among each of the divine persons.[5]

Gregory of Nazianzus on the Origin-less Father

Gregory of Nazianzus’s writings also stress the fecundity of the Father that contributes to the dynamism of the Triune life of the Godhead. At the same time, though, Gregory helps us fill out our confession of the Father through acknowledging that, whereas the Son and Holy Spirit are from another divine person, the Father is from no one. The Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son. The Son is begotten from the Father. The Father is unbegotten.

Late in his life, when removed from the heat of theological battle and in a reflective state, Gregory wrote theological poems. They mirror the content of his five famous Theological Orations and thus reflect the mature theology confessed in the final wording of the Nicene Creed. In his poem “On the Son” he writes of the eternal birth of the Son from the Father:

Nothing ever existed before the great Father. For he who contains the universe and is dependent on the Father knows this, the one who is sprung from the great Father, the Word of God, the timeless Son, the image of the original, a nature equal to his who begot him. For the Father’s glory is his great Son and he was manifested in a way known only to the Father and to the Son made known by him.[6]

The eternal birth or generation of the Son necessitates an eternal equality, which Gregory briefly translates in terms of image and shared glory. Distinction between Father and Son is held up by the order demonstrated through begetting, but equal nature means that, despite having an ordered “beginning,” the Son is as eternal as the Father: the Father is the Son’s “timeless beginning.”

Gregory goes on within this poem to note the distinctiveness of the Father: “As God, as progenitor, he is a mighty progenitor. But if it is a great thing for the Father to have no point of origin for his noble Godhead, it is no lesser glory for the revered offspring of the great Father to come from such a root.”[7] Gregory is arguing for two things at the same time here: on the one hand, he is upholding the full divinity of the Son through his origin and “root” in the Father and, on the other hand, he is arguing for the uniqueness of the Father’s divinity as having no origin—he’s unbegotten.

Lest the Spirit be left out, Gregory in his Theological Poem “On the Spirit” describes the Spirit’s divinity “coming from the Father,” the “unoriginate root.”[8] What the Father has is the origin-less “divinity”: he is the “endless beginning” of the Trinity, even if that starting point must be discerned from the vantage point of the Son and Spirit who provide the vision of the Father. What is being described here by Gregory is known in Trinitarian theology as the “relations of origin” where the Son (by begetting) and Spirit (by procession) are known relative to their eternal origins in the Father.[9] Again, as several characters of the Lord of the Rings are illumined through their relations to Gandalf, so understanding the Son and Spirit comes only through properly relating them to the Father.

Knowing the Father “On the Way”

Learning to confess God the Father in the Nicene Creed draws the eyes of faith to a person, yes, but that person can never be severed from his personal relations. Accordingly, to know the Father is to know him “on the way.” That is to say, the Father does not present himself immediately within the economy of creation and redemption as a dominant protagonist. Therefore, while there is always an element of mystery to understanding each of the divine persons, Gregory teaches us it is especially the case with the unbegotten Father. Knowledge of him arises from his relations and acts manifest in the Son and Spirit, even while that knowledge will always stall in probing the exhaustive nature of those relations.

As the Spirit and Son bring us to the Father, they not only prompt us to confess his origin-less divinity but also that he is the fruitful root of the Trinity. Out of the Father’s eternal fecundity, Hilary taught us, he lovingly gives in the eternal generation of the Son and procession of the Spirit. What is more, in God’s unfathomable goodness, this fecundity rooted in the Father generously abounds freely causing the creation of the world: “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.”

Most precious to the faithful, however, most precious to those who confess the Father with faith, hope, and love in their hearts is the fruit of the Father manifest in our redemption where the Spirit unites us to the Son so that in him we know the Father by grace even as the Son does by nature.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the blog for Credo Magazine and is used with permission.



5 Reasons I Love Being a Pastor

By / Jul 1

Being a pastor is difficult.

I remember my mentor in ministry telling me when I was in my early twenties that if I could do anything else, I should do that. He warned me there would be days that I wished I was working in any other sort of job. He was right. But I couldn’t do anything else–or rather—I couldn’t without feeling I was running from God, and he agreed that was a sign that God was calling me to be a pastor.

I can tend towards dwelling on the difficult and the negative some days because they are what so often are calling for our attention: solving problems, considering the next step in loosening or tightening COVID restrictions, wondering how this next phone call or meeting will go, remembering that I forgot to check in with somebody undergoing a trial. The list goes on.

But there are so many blessings in being a pastor, so many reasons I count it one of the greatest privileges of my life, so many reasons to thank God for being a pastor, and so many reasons I love being a pastor.

In keeping with Paul’s admonition to think about “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things,” (Philippians 4:8), I want to list five of the many reasons I love being a pastor.

#1 – I get to teach and study God’s Word as part of my job.

For all of the stresses that being a pastor entails, and the pressure of the Sunday morning sermon deadline, and all of the spiritual battles that come my way, every week I get to—and am expected to—spend hours studying God’s Word and preparing to teach it. This is an inestimable privilege.

I once heard an older pastor say that he couldn’t believe that he gets paid to study God’s Word. That is a perspective that I need to keep in mind and thank God for weekly. It is a joy to spend time in God’s Word and be filled up with it and challenged by it so that I can have the joy of equipping, encouraging, and stretching God’s people with it. May I never take this for granted.

#2 – I get to be there for people’s highs and lows in life.

Some of my favorite moments in pastoring are being right there for the highs and lows of people’s lives and being used by God in those situations to “rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). It is a joy to pray with new parents while holding a newborn baby, and it is a joy to see the radiance in the eyes of a couple getting married while standing right behind them. It is also a different, somber kind of joy to be able to help a couple apply God’s Word to their marriage struggles when the need for counseling comes. It is something I would never trade to have the privilege of praying with a newly bereaved relative thanking God for the life of their loved one, sometimes while the body is still in the room.

These intense times of ministry bond me with God’s people and remind me each time of some of the unique reasons I love being God’s hands and feet. It is also special to be able to often minister during these highs and lows in people’s lives with my wife as she uses her gifts with me. May I never take this for granted.

#3 – I get a front-row seat to God’s work.

Another benefit to being a pastor that I love is getting a front-row seat to God’s work. The average church member does not have the joy of seeing some of the mercy ministry that goes on in secret in the life of a church. It is a holy privilege to know about an act of love in Jesus’ name that only God, me, and the other person involved know about due to confidentiality. It is a distinctive joy to not only ache at marriage problems but also to rejoice with a couple who is now reaping the benefits of following God’s ways in their relationship. I alone get to “see the light bulb come on” in the middle of a sermon for that person who has been trying to figure out what they believe about Jesus. I alone sometimes get to see tears of repentance over sin or tears of hope due to longing for Heaven and being reunited with a beloved spouse or child.

I know that God is always doing a million things and that we are usually only aware of a few of them at any given moment, but as a pastor, I literally get to see God’s invisible hand working out his plan for his glory and his people’s good every week, if I have the eyes to see it. May I never take this for granted.

#4 – I get to see people come to know Jesus as Savior and Lord and then baptize them.

“I wasn’t sure before, but I know that I know Jesus now,” the 16-year old boy told me in the car as we drove from Subway after getting his monthly favorite sub (ham with black olives–lots of black olives!) and catching up on high school life.

“What’s the change?” I asked, excited as I had been praying for him for years as he had been coming to youth group ever since I became a youth pastor.

“I didn’t care about sin before, but now I don’t want to sin anymore because I love Jesus,” he replied.

I never would have been part of that conversation if God had not called me to be a pastor. Baptisms–whether the believer going public grew up in the church or recently began to attend–are some of the most joyous Sundays on the calendar. When you get to talk about the gospel, make disciples, and baptize as part of your job, you are blessed. May I never take this for granted.

#5 – I get the privilege of serving Jesus as his errand boy.

Harold Senkbeil, in his book The Care of Souls, says that a sheepdog always has his tail wagging when he is working, and one eye always on his master. Too often my tail is not wagging, but those are the moments or days that I have my eyes off of my master. But some days, as I look to the day ahead and ask Jesus for strength and wisdom to serve his church that he has promised to build, it will hit me with a wave of joy: I get the privilege to serve Jesus as his errand boy today—wherever and in whatever way he may choose to take me for that day or that season. May I never take this for granted.

I don’t say it often enough—I love being a pastor.

Editor’s Note: This piece originally appeared at the Baptist Convention of New England blog and is used with permission.



Is God for Us?

By / Jun 30

We live in an ego-centric society, which has saturated our churches and our faith. We have been programmed to think about ourselves. Most patterns in our lives are somehow tied to serving “me and my needs,” “my family,” or “my country.” Think about how much of our giving is tied to that which benefits us? Would we tithe as much if it were not tax-deductible? Would we give more to a building program (from which our kids will benefit) or a poverty program in Indonesia (which benefits me in no way)?

Along this ego-centric thought, I often hear people say, “God wants good for me.” “Okay, sure, absolutely. I can agree.” Here’s the rub. What is “good?” That’s where I believe we differ. I don’t believe God’s perspective of “good” is the same as ours. God’s “good” does not necessitate health here on earth. God’s “good” does not necessitate a lack of birth defects, financial blessing, intelligence, godly spouse, etc. While we may be blessed to experience some of these things, God’s “goodness” does not necessitate it.

God’s “good” is not specific to the individual as much as it is tied to that which benefits the corporate body. God’s “good” is about conforming us to the image of Christ. That is our greatest good. Our greatest good is that which most glorifies God and promotes worship of his holy name among the nations. God’s greatest good for us is leveraging our lives for the purpose of redemption. Yes, that is right, leveraging our lives. We are the servants, he is the master. Sometimes “good” is nailing you to the cross for the good of others in God’s redemptive kingdom plan.

God’s “good” is not centered around me or you, it is centered around his kingdom work and the means by which we can be most useful in promoting the establishment of that kingdom. Certainly, 1 Peter 3:17 hints at that, “For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil.” There are times that God’s will is for us to suffer for righteousness’ sake so that we can be used for the good of his glory and his kingdom. But what about that famous passage that is often quoted, Genesis 50:20, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today?” Within that context, we must remember that God did not hesitate to orphan Joseph, at least for a season, sell him into slavery, have him falsely accused, and have him imprisoned in order to help redeem God’s people.

In other words, God is focused on you, yes, but he does so within the grand scope of his redemptive plan for his people. It is about you, as you are a part of a greater body, and God’s securing of that body, even if that means bruising a toe to save the leg. Believer in Jesus, may God deliver us from our “me-centered” lives and help us see that he is orchestrating a tapestry of redemption, and it is our privileged to be used in any way he sees fit. If that means being faithful in a bad marriage as a witness to my spouse, my children, and the world, so be it. If that means risking it all to tell my family, friends, neighbors, and co-workers that Jesus loves them, so be it. If that means selling my home and moving to the mission field, so be it. If that means that I buy an Accord instead of a Lexis, or for most of us, I buy a used car instead of a new car, so that I can give the difference to those in need, so be it. If it means being a faithful witness while cancer ravishes my child’s body, so be it. If it means forgiving the drunk driver who killed my spouse in the car accident, so be it. If it means being faithful in the midst of great financial blessing as my stock portfolio goes through the roof, so be it.

In the end, my life is not my own. It belongs to the King. May we get our minds off of ourselves and our possessions and our families alone and surrender ourselves to God more fully. May we surrender our immediate comfort and happiness and pursue holiness saying, “God, use me as you see fit for your glory and the promotion of your kingdom among the nations.”



Pray for Other Members

By / Jun 29

Every Christian knows they should pray for others (1 Tim. 2:1). Yet every Christian also knows how terribly trite it feels to ask God over and over again to help out your fellow church members with their health, safety, or money problems. So how do we pray without just repeating ourselves?

Fortunately, God answers this for us. As Christians, we should pray continuously (1 Thess. 5:17), taking each other’s anxiety to our caring God (1 Pet. 5:7). We should also pray with thanksgiving, bringing one another’s requests to God (Phil. 4:6). The Lord also invites us to pray expectantly for wisdom (James 1:5). We shouldn’t grow weary of faithfully praying these prayers. But we can aim for even more precision in our prayers for other church members.

What Not to Include

But before I get to specifics on what to pray for, let me be specific about how we don’t have to pray. Sometimes people make up standards for prayer that simply aren’t biblical. The Bible makes it clear that unnecessarily public, lengthy, wordy, and repetitive prayer is not necessarily godly prayer (Matt. 6:6–7). So as we pray for fellow members, don’t feel unnecessary guilt that your prayers aren’t long. Have clear requests and use few words, trusting that the Lord hears.

What to Include

Instead of heaping up empty phrases in their prayers, Jesus taught his disciples a pattern of prayer that we now call “The Lord’s Prayer” (Matt. 6:9–13). We can use this pattern to pray for one another.

1. Adore God’s name (v. 9).

Adoring the name of God and asking that God help others adore his name is a great place to start. We should pray that fellow church members would exalt God and delight in his glory.

2. Accept God’s will (v. 10).

Much of how we relate to God comes out in responsive humility (Ps. 131). Prayer is one way we express our eager surrender to God’s will. We should pray that fellow church members would learn to submit to God’s will and trust his providence.

3. Admit God’s daily provision (v. 11).

We need God to provide for our daily sustenance. He works through us and others to see to it that our needs are met through the power of his might and not our own self-reliance. We should pray that God would meet the needs of fellow church members and that they would seek him as the provider of our greatest needs (Matt. 4:4, 6:33).

4. Ask God’s forgiveness (v. 12).

We sin daily, whether through commission or omission. How blessed we are to walk in the mercy and grace of God in steadily realigning ourselves with the gospel in prayer. We have a constant opportunity in prayer to confess our sins to the Lord (1 John 1:9). We should pray that God would move others to confess their sins and find hope in the forgiveness of the gospel.

5. Affirm forgiveness toward others (v. 12).

We have the privilege of releasing people from relational strife by choosing to forgive them. What a blessing to receive mercy from God in our contriteness and then to offer the same mercy to others (Prov. 28:13, Eph. 4:32). We should pray that fellow members would exercise that same forgiveness toward those that have wronged them.

6. Avoid evil (v. 13).

We’re tempted by all kinds of sin (Jas. 1:13–15). There’s sin in our own hearts and minds. There’s sin imposed on us from the world at the invitation of others (1 John 2:15–17). We need God’s protection and a way out of evil, regardless of where it comes from (1 Cor. 10:12–13). We should pray that God would protect fellow members from indwelling sin, the world, and the devil.

Now that we’ve seen some ways we should pray for others, here are some practical suggestions:

  • Pray through a page of your church membership directory during your devotions using the 6 “A’s” listed above.
  • Before or after Bible study, assign one “A” to each person in the group to pray through for a different church member.
  • You can emphasize praying one “A” of the Lord’s prayer at mealtime.
  • You can pray for one member each night before dinner by focusing on one aspect of the Lord’s Prayer for each member. In our home, the awakening aroma of delicious dinner food draws us to the kitchen table out of various tasks each night. On the counter, we have filed away a stack of Christmas cards, which we use to remind us to pray for image-bearing Christian families. I often use an “A” to guide me.

I hope this article gives you a guide to praying more simply and more in line with the Bible’s blueprint.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the 9Marks blog and is used with permission.



Faith-Sized Requests

By / Jun 23

Few things are as fixed as mountains. But, on the day after Jesus cursed the fig tree, He declared that they can be moved.

“Have faith in God. Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it will be granted him.” (Mark 11:23)

Did Jesus mean this?

The writer of Hebrews thought so. He records that by faith men “conquered kingdoms, performed acts of righteousness, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight, women received back their dead by resurrection . . .” (Hebrews 11:33-35)

Through the right kind of praying, something moves. Faith is the divinely granted instrument that brings God’s infinite strength to bear on the resistant mountains of our lives.

Jesus did not mean that we are to always “say to the mountain,” though direct speech toward a personified object may seem quite reasonable at times. Once, my wife and I rebuked the fever of our one-year-old child when we knew that an escalating fever would cause a third major seizure. In under five seconds, the high fever left and he never had this problem again! But we have not done that often.

Rather, Jesus tells us that, most often, prayers are the wings for our faith. He follows His mountain-moving promise with this:

“Therefore I say to you [bringing the principle home to the everyday experience of the believer], all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.” (Mark 11:24)

The problem word in this passage is “all.” “All things for which you pray and ask.” This means that we should aim at praying with faith every time we request anything from our Father.

If this is so, then our prayers need to become “faith-sized.” This concept is not original to me. Years ago Rosalind Rinker1 used this term to describe the bite-sized praying that would allow us to pray more often with faith. Praying out of our range of faith causes our prayers to become tiresome and sadly unfruitful. It would be more reasonable, she taught us, to reduce our prayers into smaller “believing” requests so that our faith would build and our joy for answered prayer would return.

If you cannot have faith that your son will be saved, you might pray that you can have just one civil conversation with him. After that, you can ask for more. If you cannot trust God for your whole financial debt to be removed, you can pray that you will be allowed to reduce it by an extra $50 this month. Stretch out and ask our powerful God up to your current level of faith. We know what God can do, but what will you believe He will do?

Keep a journal of your answered prayers. Include the date, faith-sized request, a spot for the answer, and for the date of the answer. Do this because you need to have more consciousness of answered prayer and more joy as a result. You need to see with your eyes that your faith is growing. And, you have an opportunity to leave a legacy of answered prayer that will encourage your family and others. God will be honored. Who knows, by the end of even a week or two you may be able to point to ten answered prayers! Would that change your prayer life?

If you could convince your family or your small group, or even your whole church, to ask and record faith-sized requests, who knows what eternal good would come of it!

Once a missionary told me about what he called “Quechi dynamite.” When the Quechi Indians of Mexico wish to break a huge rock, they find a tiny crack in the stone and slowly drip water into it. Little by little the crack grows until the once unyielding rock finally snaps in two. Take your faith seriously, but apply it in a way that works for your level of trust. You will be amazed how rocks will split and mountains will move.

________________________

1Rosalind Rinker, Prayer, Conversing with God (Grand Rapids, Zondervan Books, 1959) pp. 59-63.

Editor’s Note: This originally published at Christian Communicators Worldwide.



To Wait is Good; To Worship is Better

By / Jun 22

A friend of mine recently invited me to think alongside her about the biblical concept of anticipation. When she asked me to search the Scriptures with her for the truth about anticipation and waiting well, I had no idea I would be combing through the words of the prophet Habakkuk for answers to questions I did not even know I was asking. To my surprise, Habakkuk has much to say about anticipation and about what it means to wait well.

Scripture is clear that we are creatures created for waiting; it is a part of what it means to be human. Waiting and anticipation remind us that we are finite, created to exist in time and experience change. We are not like God, the One who is self-existent, self-sufficient, and fully independent – the source and definition of life itself, timeless and unchanging. This is why man “became a living creature” only after God Himself “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life” (Genesis 2:7). Our total dependence upon God the Creator requires us to wait and experience anticipation, an expression of our inability to be self-sufficient and totally independent. These latter attributes are only for the Creator.

So, if Scripture is clear that we are creatures created for waiting, it must also contain clear directions that will equip us to wait well. This is where the prophet Habakkuk informs our thinking, for he himself was waiting for the salvation of Israel, his own people.

Habakkuk’s opening cry to the Lord is one that acknowledges the tension of waiting – “O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?” (Habakkuk 1:2). Habakkuk’s words do not shy away from confessing the tension that is always so present with waiting and anticipation. This tension is purposeful in reminding us of our limits, that we are not like God, the One who is eternally outside of time. There is distinction between him, the Creator, and between us, the creature. He is not confined in the tension of the “already and not yet” like his creatures. Therefore, we can take comfort in this: the tension that exists in waiting exists by God’s design as our Creator.

What is the Lord’s response to Habakkuk and what will he answer concerning Habakkuk’s complaint? The Lord does not relieve the tension of anticipation and waiting that Habakkuk hopes will cease. Truthfully, the Lord acknowledges the tension and encourages Habakkuk to continue to wait with repose, for the word of the Lord will not fail because he who gives his Word does not change (Habakkuk 2:3). Yet this is not the only instruction that the Lord gives Habakkuk. The Lord is also quick to instruct Habakkuk to flee the temptation to alleviate the tension of waiting with fleshly antidotes that indulge our arrogance and greed rather than our holiness and gratitude (Habakkuk 2:5).

Is there any purpose for the tension of anticipation and waiting that we so often spurn rather than embrace? Yes – the Lord’s design is purposeful in all things. The tension of waiting and anticipation pushes us towards worship because the Lord, our Creator, commands our worship. Anything used to alleviate the tension of waiting, a tension that should draw us to worship him who designed for that tension to exist, is idolatry. We are creatures created for waiting, we are creatures created for worship, and who we worship matters. Where we direct the attention of our hearts as we navigate the tension of waiting matters.

This is why, when the Lord confronts and condemns idolatry in Habakkuk, the Lord contrasts himself as the One, True, Living God by comparison to the lifeless, breathless false gods that both Israel and the surrounding pagan nations worshiped:

“But the LORD is in His holy temple; let all the earth keep silent before Him.” (Habakkuk 2:20)

The imagery that the Lord uses here is important. The picture the Lord gives us of himself in his temple reminds us of that we are to worship the God who is timeless and eternal, the God who does not experience change or alter his purposes, and therefore, the God who is sovereignly exercising authority over all creation and all change that we wait for and anticipate. When God commands our silence, he is commanding our reverence and our worship. This command is not one that negates our productive, worshipful activity, but it is a command that condemns our clamoring and questioning that serve to reveal the ingratitude rooted in the arrogance of our hearts. What right does the creature have to complain before his Creator? This is why Habakkuk opens and concludes his closing prayer in worship and gratitude before the Lord:

“O LORD, I have heard of the report of you, and your work, O LORD, do I fear… I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me read on my high places. To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments.” (Habakkuk 3:1, 18-19).

God, the Lord, he who commands all change and has designed for us to worshipfully wait – he always acts for the salvation of his anointed (Habakkuk 3:12). Because he is eternal, steadfast, and unchanging, our salvation is secure, and our waiting is purposeful, created by Divine design for our worship.



Are We Building Barriers or Removing Barriers?

By / Jun 18

15 And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. 16 And he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. 17 And he was teaching them and saying to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” 18 And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and were seeking a way to destroy him, for they feared him, because all the crowd was astonished at his teaching. 19 And when evening came they went out of the city.

Mark 11:15-19

When Jesus entered the temple that day, he was on a mission. The temple was the center of life and worship. It was where the sacrifices were made to grant purification and forgiveness. Where sinners met with God. Where God dwelt on earth. It was the place to worship. But though it bustled with activity, it was lifeless, and its deadness was not a problem Jesus could ignore. He had to confront it. God’s glory was at stake. Sinners couldn’t get close to God.

The British pastor Martyn Lloyd-Jones said, “every institution tends to become it’s opposite.” The temple, where the nations could come and find God, became a place where it was hard to find God. This can happen inside a church too. When a church becomes a place where it’s hard to find God, it becomes something other than what God intends. That’s why Jesus says in verse 17, referring to Isaiah 56:7, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” Isaiah 56 is about the nations coming to God. It’s about God’s heart for all people—the Jews and the Gentiles—and Jesus was there to set things right.

The temple had four main sections. Jesus stood in the outer court of the temple, the only place Gentiles could go. The leaders should have been there to minister but their heart wasn’t in it. They made it a den of robbers by establishing costly buying and selling and money-changing procedures for the sacrifices. They made a profit on the worship of God. Who can worship God in a Wal-Mart?

How did the temple get to this point? It didn’t happen all at once. Nothing like this ever does. It happens one compromise at a time. We don’t have to set up elaborate trading floors with international exchange rates. We just have to fail to welcome people, fail to make it easy to find Jesus. We just have to let our preferences set the agenda, let our feelings rule our interactions, let God’s word about loving one another for Jesus’ sake become mild suggestions rather than holy commands.

Ray Ortlund (to whom I’m indebted to these ideas and so many more) illustrates this well in his commentary on Isaiah.

Chuck Smith was pastoring a little church in Costa Mesa, California, in the late 1960s, not far from the beach. God began to pour out his Spirit. Teenage kids started getting saved and coming to church. But there was a problem. The oil deposits off the coast of California bubble up little globs of oil that land on the beach now and then, about the size of a quarter. If you step on one, it sticks to the bottom of your foot and you mess up the carpet when you get home. So these young people began coming into church right off the beach. They didn’t know they were supposed to wear shoes. All they knew was, Jesus is outta sight and church is cool. God was gathering in outsiders, and it was beautifully authentic. But the new carpets and the new pews at Pastor Smith’s church were getting stained. One Sunday morning Chuck arrived at church to find a sign posted outside: “Shirts and shoes please.” He took it down. After the service he met with the church officers. They talked it through. They agreed that they would remove the new carpet and pews before they would hinder one kid from coming to Christ.

That’s the heart of Jesus.

Through that one decision not to hinder anyone from coming to Jesus, God brought revival. He poured out his Spirit. They chose not to put up a barrier and God brought the people. What if they had kept that sign up? It wasn’t a big thing, right? Is it too much to ask people to wear shoes to church? Well, no, but it’s also not necessary, and it’s the unnecessary barriers we construct that quench the Spirit of God.

We have two options: we can make rules to exclude or remove barriers to include. If God’s church is a house of prayer—a house of worship—then everyone is welcome. Everyone has a chance to meet Jesus. This is something Jesus is willing to fight for and, ultimately, die for. This act of cleansing the temple cost Jesus. “The chief priests and the scribes heard it and were seeking a way to destroy him” (Mark 11:18).

Jesus cared so much about removing barriers to worship that he lost his life over it. How much do we care? The test of true worship is not merely how we’re feeling about God; it’s about how open we are to God, and how open we’re making things for others. The test of true worship doesn’t reside in showy religiosity but in God-glorifying life. And just as it cost Jesus, it might cost us. We will have to lay down some of our preferences. We will have to open our hearts to those not like us. We will have to let Jesus rule in our church. But we know the kind of good King he is, don’t we? Give me one reason not to do church his way!

What if all of us in all our churches committed to never establish any barrier that would keep others from Christ? Yes, there are certain biblical commands and requirements we must obey. Those aren’t up for discussion. But those usually aren’t our biggest problem, anyway. It’s our man-made walls that too often separate.

If people leave the church because the Bible makes it hard for them to worship God, that’s between them and God. But if they leave the church because we make it hard for them to worship God, that’s between God and us.

Do we realize what God has done in Jesus Christ—how open the kingdom is? A church can become a place where it’s hard to find God. It should not be. What if we flung the doors wide open? What if, without compromising biblical doctrine, we allowed our culture to mirror God’s heart for the nations? What if, in our day and for God’s glory, we removed barriers rather than built them? It will take some courage. It will take some bucking of traditions and customs. It will take an opening of doors we might rather keep shut. But if we can follow Jesus down that hard road, we just might see what only God can do. That’s a risk worth taking.

“Build up, build up, prepare the way, remove every obstruction from my people’s way.” For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the heart of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.” (Isaiah 57:14-15)

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



Grace at Rock Bottom

By / Jun 7

I have a love-hate relationship with the warning lights on my car. I had a couple of cars where it seemed like something broke every month. Whenever I see a warning light, my first thought is always the worst-case scenario. However, I love that the warning lights come on long before the car is about to break down. Learning to listen to the warning lights helps keep the car running better and for longer. God gives us lots of warning lights but, like most people with their car, things need to completely break down before we learn to love the warning lights.

One biblical character who ignores the warning lights is Jonah. The warning light of a life-threatening storm did not change him. It was only when he hit rock bottom that we see him start to change.

Growing When God Brings Us Down

Whenever I read Jonah, I always imagined the fish was below the boat, waiting for him. From what Jonah says, however, it appears that he was closer to the ocean floor than the surface when the fish saved him. “The water engulfed me up to the neck; the watery depths overcame me; seaweed was wrapped around my head. I sank to the foundations of the mountains, the earth’s gates shut behind me forever” (Jon 2:5-6). If the storm was a warning light, being wrapped in seaweed at the bottom of the ocean was a full breakdown. 

Some of the best lessons we learn in life come from our lowest points. As the darkness of the sea swallows him, Jonah cannot escape examining the darkness of his heart. During this low point, he begins to lean on God (2:9). He looks back and sees how God has been merciful to him despite his rebellion (2:7), and he experiences the ever-present help of God (2:2). All of this would not have happened on a comfortable beach. He needed to sink; he needed to be saved.

It is often at our lowest and most helpless point where we learn these lessons as well. We know God is faithful, strong, and an ever-present help in time of need, but it is when we hit rock-bottom that we experience him in that way. Jonah prays out of his distress, and God answers.

Goodness and Mercy in Darkness

One of the hardest weeks of my life has helped me trust God more than anything else. In the same week, my wife and I lost our second child in a miscarriage, and I had to preach the thanksgiving sermon. The theme was being thankful to God in every season. During my preparation that week, I felt so disconnected from what I was going to preach. My prayers were filled with pain, not thanksgiving. In pain, I asked God, “Why?” more than I said, “Thank you.” I hated that week.

I am grateful now, as I look back on that week because it was in the pain where God showed me the strength of his grace. When I could not stand, his right hand held me up. It still fills me with tears to think about that week, but I can look back on God’s care when I was at my lowest and trust his care to continue. As the Psalmist says, “Goodness and mercy follow us even in the darkest valley” (Ps 23).

The gospel reminds us that even the darkest depths serve the redemptive purpose of God. He does not abandon us when we sink. In the depths of the sea, he met Jonah with grace. Likewise to us, in our lowest points, God wraps us in grace. We can trust his goodness even in darkness.



Jesus’ Seat At Your Table

By / Jun 2

How do you view your life? Have you ever thought about that question? What determines what you do or don’t do? Why do you say yes to some things and no to others? What is your filter for determining what fills your calendar?

It seems like for many of us, we live our lives functionally as though we were in a board meeting of a corporation. We are the CEO and we are leading the meeting. Then we have all of the aspects of our lives in seats around the table as we guide and direct their participation in our day-to-day lives.

Your career gets a seat. How much you work. Where you live. Whether or not you take that promotion. Moving for that better job. Your career gets a seat at the table.

Your family gets a seat. Spending time as a father or mother or sister or nephew building relationships. Doing things around the house that that role requires. Going on vacation or prioritizing holidays or blocking off time to spend with one another. Your family gets a seat at the table.

Kids activities get a seat. Going to dance classes. Picking up muddy kids from baseball practice. Buying tickets for the theatre production. Learning the 100 million different softball chants at the latest tournament. Watching the eagle scout ceremony. And all of the driving and dropping off that these activities require. Kids activities get a seat at the table.

Recreation gets a seat. Maybe it’s movies or sports. Maybe it’s camping or eating out. Maybe you like being on the lake or going to Disney. We all have things we just enjoy doing and bring a sense of renewal to our lives in the midst of so much hurry. Recreation gets a seat at the table.

Digital media gets a seat. TV. Smartphones. Radio. Games. The average American spends 2 hours and 24 minutes per day on social media alone. In total media according to a recent ABC News report, the average American spends a staggering 11 hours and 54 minutes per day connected to some form of media (TV, phones, radio, or games). While that number is slightly inflated because you do some of that simultaneously, the conclusion is still clear. Digital media gets a prominent seat at our table.

Sleep gets a seat. You will sleep roughly 1/3 of your life. That’s how awesome you are. Your body is unable to function unless it completely shuts down for a significant portion of your life. Sleep gets a seat at the table.

And then Jesus gets a seat. If we are honest we wish it was a more prominent seat but it’s a seat nonetheless. We try to make it to church when we can. Recent studies suggest that even committed Christians make it to church on average twice a month. 26 times a year. We also know we should read our bibles more and be more consistent in prayer. We feel the desire to be more faithful in evangelism or care for those that are hurting. Life just gets crazy. We want Jesus here, but we will need it to be something fast, something immediate because we are in a hurry. And it will have to be something casual because we can’t commit to anything substantial or time-consuming. We just have too much going on. But we still want to work and make sure that Jesus gets a seat at our table.

And as we make decisions in our lives, we hear each of these board members give their case for why they should have a bigger slice of our week. Your career is telling you that you need to work more hours otherwise you’ll get passed up for that promotion. Plus he reminds you of the sense of worth he gives you. But recreation chimes in that you cannot just be all work and no play, that will make you a very dull boy. But then your family seat interrupts and says you can’t just work and hunt and watch college football and neglect your responsibilities as a husband and a father. Jesus doesn’t seem to have much of a say in so many of our decisions but we do love him and want to make sure we can place him into the spaces and margins we do have in our lives.  You hear the debate at your table. You consider the value of each. And then you make the decision as CEO of your life. You shape your life, figure out the crazy and busy schedules, and direct the trajectory of your future.

Is that what your life looks like? Is that what your life should look like? Have other Christians had this same struggle of business, trying to find a place for Jesus to fit, or is this a 21-century struggle with all the smartphones and interstates and constant connectivity?

Eugene Peterson wrote his classic book just over 40 years ago in 1980 called A Long Obedience in the Same Direction. As he describes his context in 1980 before cell phones, social media, or Netflix, it sounds like they had the same issue. Listen to what he describes:

“I don’t know what it has been like for pastors in other cultures and previous centuries, but I am quite sure that for a pastor in Western culture in the latter part of the twentieth century the aspect of world that makes the work of leading Christians in the way of faith most difficult is what Gore Vidal has analyzed as “today’s passion for the immediate and the casual.” Everyone is in a hurry. The persons whom I lead in worship, among whom I counsel, visit, pray, preach, and teach, want short cuts. They want me to help them fill out the form that will get them instant credit. They are impatient for results. They have adopted the lifestyle of a tourist and only want the high points.”

That was written 41 years ago. Friends, don’t believe the lie that your life is uniquely busy and that you just don’t have the time. This is one of Satan’s lies to our society. He gets us in such a hurry that we feel like we don’t have the time to seriously follow Jesus. Kids activities, digital media, family. Go go go. Do do do. Each of these things are good, none of them are wrong. We should be giving our attention to these good things.

But here is the question I want to ask you: Has Satan turned your attention to so many good things, that you have unknowingly ignored the best thing? Have you relegated Jesus to a seat at your table and come to him just when it’s convenient for you?

Friends, what does your relationship with Jesus look like? Is it expected to be immediate and casual? Does he simply fill in the cracks of your busy schedule? Is he then the first to go when things just get too busy?

So what is your response when you hear Jesus speak up in that boardroom? Do you pull back saying you don’t have the time to give to his Great Commission right now or any calendar openings for his Great Commandment? Do you expect your discipleship to be immediate? Do you expect following Jesus to be casual?

Jesus tells us something far different.

You see there was a great crowd that Luke says in his gospel is traveling with Jesus in Luke 14. And Jesus turns and says, unprompted, “Hey heads up, unless you hate your mom and dad, wife and kids, brothers and sisters, and even your own life, yeah you can’t be my disciple. If you’re not willing to pick up your cross daily and follow me, really follow me, then you can’t be my disciple. Before someone builds a tower, they count the cost to see if they have enough to build it. Before a king goes to war, he counts his troops to see if he can defeat his enemy. So if you don’t renounce all of your possessions, you can’t be my disciple.”

Now we are in a culture where people say we can’t expect more than nominal attendance on Sundays and maybe some of the really committed ones could join a community group once a week and read their Bibles. But Jesus says that the baseline for following him is being willing to leave your family and sell everything you have and pick up a cross every day and follow him. That’s not a discipleship PhD; that’s Christianity 101.

“Are you saying that I have to literally hate my family and sell everything I have to follow Jesus?” No, Jesus isn’t giving a prescription here. But I do believe he is describing the heart of following him. You don’t have to leave your family and sell everything you’ve got, but you need to be willing to. He needs to be more valuable to you than anything else in your life. Jesus isn’t prescribing the actions of your hands, but describing the posture of your hearts. What is his place in your life?

Luke gives a helpful description of this great crowd in Luke 14, did you hear how he described it? Listen again to verse 25: “Now great crowds were traveling with him.” Friends, there is a subtle and yet massive difference between traveling with Jesus and following Jesus.  One is a tourist; the other is a disciple. One is interested in what Jesus is doing as long as it doesn’t interfere too much with what you want in your own life. The other says, “No, my life is not my own anymore. I’ve been bought with a price, and I’m now following this man.”

Once you decide to truly follow him and view him not just as the Savior of your life, but also as the Lord of your life, then your relationship with him changes. No longer can he simply be confined to a single chair in your boardroom as you direct the proceedings of the meeting and the direction of your life. He takes over as the president, CEO, and chairman of the board, directing and influencing every other seat at the table. He now shapes what our careers look like. He determines what TV shows we watch and how much of it we watch. He dictates our involvement in recreation and our kid’s activities. He doesn’t have a seat at your table, he now stands at the head and speaks into every seat of our lives.  Far from being immediate, we realize this is a lifelong commitment. Far from being casual, we understand he is calling us to be devoted.

Does he just have a seat at your table or he is running your life?

Are you traveling with Jesus or are you following him?

Are you a tourist or are you a disciple?



Church Membership: Loving What Jesus Loves

By / May 28

He was reading his Bible and I struck up a conversation with him. We talked about the gospel and then I asked him, “What church do you belong to?” He answered, “I attend different churches all over but I’m not a member of any of them. I’m into Jesus, that’s all that matters.” I find his response fairly common.

I asked him, “Do you think someone who is passionate for Jesus should be passionate for what Jesus is passionate about?” He quickly responded, “Absolutely! That’s all that matters!”

Jesus purchased the church with his own blood (Acts 20:28).
Jesus’s church is the fullness of him (Eph. 1:23).
Jesus called the church his bride (Eph. 5:23, Rev. 19:7).
Jesus says to persecute the church is to persecute him (Acts 9:4).
Jesus said he will build his church (Matt. 16:18).
Jesus said the gates of Hades will not prevail against his church (Matt 16:18).
Jesus says he loves the church and will sanctify the church (Eph. 5:25-26).
Jesus cherishes the church (Eph. 5:29).
Jesus is the head of the church (Col 1:18).
Jesus says the church is his body (Rom. 12:4), his flock (1 Pet. 5:2-3), and his family (Eph. 2:19).

Jesus is passionate for his church. Jesus doesn’t simply love the idea of a church and identify with the church in the abstract. Jesus loves, identifies with, and shed his precious blood for actual local expressions of his church. And we are to love, identify with, and sacrifice for the local church as well. Local bodies, in particular places, with people and problems. It is striking that much of the New Testament was written to particular churches facing a myriad of problems.

Has there ever been a church with as many problems as Corinth was facing? Nevertheless, Paul writes, “To the Church of God that is in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours” (1 Cor. 1:2). He writes to the believers at Corinth, “as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 1:7b-8).

Church Membership Identifies You with Jesus Publicly

Jesus calls those who follow him to do so by loving and being an accountable member of a local expression of his church. By church membership, the believer identifies with Jesus publicly. It is in the local church that the believer participates in baptism and the Lord’s Supper—signs of Christ’s kingdom. Paul writes that the many members form one body of Christ in local churches (1 Cor. 12:12-27). It is those bodies, that constitute the public witness of Christ in the world. A single person can offer a private and individual witness but only as faithful members of his church can we provide a recognized public and corporate witness.

By the Holy Spirit’s power, a local church represents the active presence of Christ’s kingdom in the world. It is organically interrelated, interdependently connected, and functions in harmony as one body. People are “added” to the body and they “join” the body, which represents “the whole church” (Acts 2:41, Acts 5:13, 1 Cor. 14:23). The church provides members accountability in order to love and nurture them and to preserve the witness of the church. Thus, a church must sometimes practice church discipline by removing members from the body (Matt 18:15-20, 1 Cor. 5:1-13). You must formally know who is a member of a local church to be able to remove someone from the church. A local church is the baptized, spirit-filled, visible body of Christ.

Church membership Joins You to the Blood-Bought Community of Jesus

By church membership, the believer joins the blood-bought community of Jesus (Acts 20:26-28). Your physical body is not a casual, random collection of unrelated or loosely related parts. Other images for the church make the same point. A flock is not a random group of sheep (1 Pet. 5:2) and a household has identified members (Eph. 2:19-20). Likewise, the body has identifiable members and so does the local church (Rom. 12:5, 1 Cor. 12:27). In the body of Christ there are no inferior (1 Cor. 12:14-20) or superior members (1 Cor. 12:21-27), because “God arranged the members in the body, each one of them as he chose” (1 Cor. 12:18).

The cruciform community of Jesus does not reckon the world according to the world’s wisdom based on outer distinctions. By determining to know nothing among anyone “except Jesus Christ and him crucified,” the church is clearly defined community of Jesus built on grace alone. Any notion of inferiority or superiority among the members of the church mocks the grace of God. The diverse gospel community is empowered to,

Love one another (John 13:34, 1 John 4:7, 11).
Honor one another (Rom. 12:10).
Live in harmony with one another (Rom. 12:16).
Accept one another (Rom. 15:7).
Instruct one another (Rom. 15:14).
Comfort one another (2 Cor. 13:11).
Serve one another (Gal 5:13).
Forgive one another (Col. 3:13).
Encourage one another (1 Thess. 4:18, 5:11).
Pray for one another (James 5:16).
Show hospitality to one another (1 Pet. 4:9)
Greet one another (1 Pet. 5:14).

Church Membership Allows You to Participate in the Mission of Jesus

By church membership, the believer participates in the mission of Jesus. The purpose of the diversified unity of local churches is gospel mission. Just as a football team who only had players from 150 to 175 pounds or exclusively had players between 300 to 350 pounds would be ineffective because it would lack diversity needed for the sake of its mission. The local churches unified diversity is essential to effectively engage in spiritual war for the sake of its gospel mission. The Spirit-given gifts to members of the church are to be used “for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7). The local church makes the most provocative political, cultural statement of all, “Jesus is Lord” (1 Cor. 12:3). The church’s mission, no matter its locale, is to “make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:16-20).

Church membership is not some arbitrary, man-made custom. It is a gift from the risen and ascended Christ to his people. Charles Haddon Spurgeon said,

Now, I know there are some who say, “Well, I hope I have given myself to the Lord, but I do not intend to give myself to any church, because——” Now, why not? “Because I can be a Christian without it.” Now, are you quite clear about that? You can be as good a Christian by disobedience to your Lord’s commands as by being obedient? Well, suppose everybody else did the same, suppose all Christians in the world said, “I shall not join the Church.” Why there would be no visible Church, there would be no ordinances. That would be a very bad thing, and yet, one doing it—what is right for one is right for all—why should not all of us do it? Then you believe that if you were to do an act which has a tendency to destroy the visible Church of God, you would be as good a Christian as if you did your best to build up that Church? I do not believe it, sir! nor do you either. You have not any such a belief; it is only a trumpery excuse for something else. There is a brick—a very good one. What is the brick made for? To help to build a house with. It is of no use for that brick to tell you that it is just as good a brick while it is kicking about on the ground as it would be in the house. It is a good-for-nothing brick; until it is built into the wall, it is no good. So you rolling-stone Christians, I do not believe that you are answering your purpose; you are living contrary to the life which Christ would have you live, and you are much to blame for the injury you do (Joining the Church. In The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Sermons vol. 60, London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1914: 295-296).

Do you love the church? Not the idea of the church. Not some abstract thought about the church. But rather, the local church, the one with people and problems but in the midst of it all there’s public witness to Jesus as the blood-bought community of Christ’s kingdom, and the focal point of his mission in the world to the end of the age.

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