The Great Commission Is Guaranteed, So Let’s Get to Work

By / Mar 18

The men crowded around, mouths gaping wide, as they stared into the sky.

This is the scene in Acts 1 as Jesus ascends to the Father. The disciples wonder if this is the end. Has the kingdom been restored? (Acts 1:6) Rather than giving them a date and time of the kingdom’s full arrival on earth, Jesus has given them a new, paradigm-shifting assignment. As the disciples receive power from the Holy Spirit, Jesus commissions them to take the gospel to the ends of the earth. (Acts 1:8)

That’s Jesus’ crucial answer to their question: “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” It’s not for them to know the times and seasons the Father has fixed. They simply need to know their responsibility to take the gospel far and wide.

And they will do this by planting churches.

A Mission That Cannot Fail

Before giving his disciples the Great Commission, Jesus made a promise to build his church. He guaranteed that not even the gates of hell can stop its advance (Matt. 16:18).

As a church planter, I continually come back to this great guarantee. Church planting is difficult and costly. It often feels like we’re in a battle with the forces of hell itself. But knowing that Jesus’ plan to redeem the world is accomplished through the planting of more local churches gives me great comfort and confidence. It’s a reality that keeps me pressing ahead, especially in the difficult days.

I know the Great Commission isn’t made to my particular church—or any single church, for that matter. My church might fail next month or next century—and yours might, too. But the guarantee encourages me nonetheless because I know the God I serve and preach about cannot fail as he gathers and builds up his people.

Shadows of the Promise

Recently, as I read through the book of Daniel, I reflected on Nebuchadnezzar’s first dream. American evangelicalism has often tied this dream to prophetic speculation. But this isn’t what the early church did. They believed this dream represented the victory of Christ and the unstoppable advance of the church as it fulfilled the Great Commission.

Daniel interprets the king’s dream by explaining what each of the precious metals of the image represented, and then he explains their destruction and the advancement of a new and never-ending kingdom: 

Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver, and the gold, all together were broken in pieces, and became like the chaff of the summer threshing floors; and the wind carried them away, so that not a trace of them could be found. But the stone that struck the image became a great mountain and filled the whole earth. (Dan. 2:35)

The first Christians believed that this prophecy guaranteed the advance of the church, which would finally culminate in the return of Christ and the resurrection of the dead. Irenaeus (130–202 AD) wrote: “Therefore, God who is great showed future things by Daniel and confirmed them by his Son; and Christ is the stone that is cut out without hands, who shall destroy temporal kingdoms and introduce an eternal one, which is the resurrection of the just” (Against Heresies 5.26.2).

Similarly, Augustine of Hippo (354-430 AD) interpreted the mountain as the church itself: “It is that mountain [the church] which, according to Daniel’s vision, grew from a very small stone till it overtook the kingdoms of the earth and grew to such a size that it ‘filled the face of the earth’” (Explanations of the Psalms 43.4).

If we reclaimed some of the early church’s confidence in Christ’s plan for his church, perhaps we would have a renewed vigor for pursuing a mission that cannot fail: fulfilling the Great Commission by planting churches.

Para-Church Ministries?

But what about para-church ministries? I often come across this question in church planting discussions. Para-church ministries are wonderful tools to be used by and for local churches. They can help meet both physical and spiritual needs in various ways.

But Jesus didn’t die for para-church ministries; he died for the church. He didn’t promise the ultimate success of 9Marks, but the ultimate success of the churches this ministry seeks to support and encourage toward spiritual health. He didn’t command us to launch more para-church ministries and 501(c)(3)s; he commanded us to make more disciples which results in more churches.

Make Disciples, Plant Churches

The central command of the Great Commission is to make disciples (Matt. 28:16–20). Disciples are made in and through the efforts of the local church. As new disciples mature, they’ll multiply other disciples. As more and more disciples are made, more and more churches are born.

The command to make disciples, then, is a command to plant churches. Every church that takes seriously the Great Commission must take seriously the need to plant more churches that will make disciples who plant more churches . . . and this is the pattern until Christ returns.

Why the local church? Precisely because it operates under the authority of Christ (Matt. 28:18). It’s described as the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:12–13). It’s where the people of Christ, empowered by the Spirit of Christ, celebrate and preach the gospel of Christ as we submit to the rule and reign of Christ.

Furthermore, it’s through the ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper that we mark out citizens of the kingdom of heaven who care for the broken, elevate the downtrodden, and pursue justice for the abused—all while preaching a gospel that announces to the world the good news of a coming kingdom and a coming King.

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



Let Us All Be Hospitable

By / Mar 16

Hospitality doesn’t come naturally to me. In fact, I have spent the better part of my adult life trying to love it. But while I don’t love it, I know it is biblical, and good for me to practice. For a long time, my struggle with hospitality was owing to my own false ideas about it. I thought the meal needed to be fancier. I thought the table settings needed to be prettier (or not plastic). I thought a lot of things, and none of them could be found in the Bible.

But there is another person in my family who practices hospitality with ease—my husband. He is servant-hearted, often seeing an empty glass before I do. He remembers the things and people like I don’t like. He often initiates the invite on behalf of our family. For us, inviting people into our home is a joint effort, one we do better together.

This is fitting, considering one of the qualifications for being an elder in a church is that he be hospitable (Titus 1:8, 1 Tim. 3:1-7). And since Daniel has served as an elder for most of our marriage, he takes this command seriously.

Often we silo the topic of hospitality. We see passages like Titus 2:3-5, where Paul urges Titus to have older women train the women in managing their own households, and we assume that the work of the home is singularly a female one. But it is not. Men are equally commanded in scripture to be hospitable (Rom. 12:13, Heb. 13:2, 1 Pet. 4:9), manage their households (1 Tim. 3:4), and care for their children (Eph. 6:4). But when was the last time a men’s event was on the topic of hospitality? Would men even come?

I think our efforts at hospitality would be far more successful if we made it a human issue, rather than a female one—because we really are better together.

Hospitality and the Heart of God

This idea of hospitality together is not owing to our modern sensibilities, where we are accustomed to men and women working alongside each other. While we tend to silo out male and female responsibilities in the home and the church, and even in the marketplace sometimes, God does that far less with hospitality. There is a pattern of male leadership in the home and in the church, but from the very beginning God has been concerned with his image bearers imaging him together.

In the very beginning, God welcomed Adam and Eve into the world that he made. He created a home for them (Gen. 2:15). He made it hospitable. And then he let them live in it under his rule and reign. Even when sin entered the world, a life of welcome was always his intent. When Israel received the Law from Moses, welcoming the alien and stranger was included in his plan for his people, continuing this theme of hospitality that he established in the beginning (Lev. 19:34, Deut. 10:19, Ps. 146:9.)

In fact, one of the reasons hospitality is a qualification for an elder is because hospitality is tied closely to the heart of God. So it makes sense that a man who is called to shepherd God’s sheep would do it in a way that mirrors how he shepherds his sheep.

Hospitality and the Christian

But since hospitality is so tied to God’s nature, it can’t just be an issue for the elders in our churches either. It is for all of us. The New Testament model of a Christian is one who is hospitable. Many of the Epistles include references to hospitality. As God’s people grew, they were to be a welcoming people, not only welcoming strangers, but also welcoming Gentiles into the faith (Acts 15:13-14).

In the Old Testament, when God’s people welcomed strangers into their midst, it was to show them what God was like. He is a God who cares for the alien and stranger. The same is true for us as new covenant Christians. Just think for a moment what would happen if you invited your unsaved neighbor into your home for a meal, or allowed your rebellious college student to come home for the weekend, or hosted an immigrant family for a holiday? What would this say about the God you serve? It would say the very thing Jesus says in Matthew:

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me’ (Matthew 25:35-40).

The Christian images God in many ways, but one of the ways all of us can show the world what he is like is through our practice of hospitality. When we welcome those who bear the image of God, we are serving God. Our work of hospitality is an act of worship back to him, the God who rules over all things.

We often leave the hospitality discussion up to the women, but the consistent pattern of scripture is that hospitality is for all of us—men, women, children, and leaders. We serve a God who welcomes with abandon, and as his image bearers, we should too. The task before us is too large, and too important, to be left to half the church.

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



When the Words Won’t Come

By / Mar 12

Editor’s Note: The weekend can be an incredibly distressing time for many pastors to enter into. The desire to spend quality time with family while juggling the pressures of an unfinished sermon can be an exhausting reality. What many pastors need are not more tips on how to prepare better sermons as much as some encouragement to better prepare their hearts to preach the sermon they have. Join Ronnie Martin every Friday for The Preachers Corner, where he offers some words of comfort and stories of hope to help preachers enter the weekend encouraged by the gentle and lowly heart of Jesus. 

Sometimes, the words just won’t come.

I remember the first time I ever had to stand in front of an audience and “say something spiritual.” I was hosting a concert at the youth group I was involved with and after the band played, it was my job to encourage all the youths (of which I was one) to give their hearts to Jesus, consider the truths of the gospel, and I don’t know, stop making out with their boyfriend or girlfriend. For reasons I can’t recall, I didn’t have anything written down, and when I got up to the stage, my mind went TOTALLY. BLANK. The nightmare you’re imagining right now is exactly what I’m describing. So I just stood there squirming awkwardly, as a completely scared-to-death novice who hadn’t acquired the ability to “vamp” like I so desperately needed. Eventually, after much shaking, sweating and a near nervous breakdown, I mumbled something about Jesus and rambled through a largely incoherent prayer before the band came back up to thankfully finish on a much higher note than I was able to deliver. It was a harrowing experience that I believe is the reason why I still have dreams about standing in front of large crowds while no words will come out of my mouth.

Of course, the irony of ironies is that I became a public speaker. A preacher no less. 

And yet, even though I’ve acquired the ability to appropriately “vamp” in a public setting when necessary, sometimes the words just won’t come. What I mean is that sometimes on a Friday, and not for lack of trying, I have both a passage and an empty page sitting before me. Does this describe you some weeks? This week?

It may be that you had a crowded week that pushed your prep time into the margins and has now left you scrambling. It could be that you have a tricky passage that’s required so much extra study time that your mind has become scattered and cluttered. Maybe you’ve had all the time in the world to prepare, but the deeper you dive into the text the more blank your mind seems to become. Whatever it is, you don’t have it, but you need to have something. Unfortunately, I can’t help you write your sermon because I still have my own to worry about, but here’s a few things that help me when the words won’t come. 

First off, remember that Jesus is marvelously compassionate. Right now, He’s looking at you with gentle and lowly eyes, sympathetic to the weighty task that He has called you to. He knew it when He called you to it, and His compassion doesn’t diminish because you’re struggling, it only increases because He cares about you and the words He’s given you the privilege to speak. Remember the weighty compassion of your shepherd and apply it to your heart, because this is the heart you desire to bring into the pulpit on Sunday, whatever state your sermon is in. 

Secondly, remember that you’re, well, human. God created you as a human, and your humanness is one of the important truths you bring with you into the pulpit every week. Christ didn’t call you to be a sermon writing machine, but as a unique member of the church body to deliver the gospel truths He is using to build His kingdom with. If you will learn to lean into Jesus, He will use your humanness to uniquely provide spiritual strength to your equally-as-human-as-you-are-congregation. 

Thirdly, remember that Christ has ordained this wordless moment. It’s not that He’s playing tricks and doesn’t want you to have anything to say on Sunday, it’s that He’s preparing you in this wordless moment to speak words to your heart that you may have not been able to hear otherwise. Because here’s what I’m confident of as you agonize in your wordless world: you will have a message come Sunday. The more important question is, what kind of heart will you have to deliver that message? Because it’s a message coming from one human heart to other human hearts, who are deeply loved and cared for by the heart of Jesus. So when the words won’t come, ask Jesus to fill your heart with words that will give you a heart for the people He loves, His church. 

And the rest? It’ll come. 

But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”—these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit. For the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. 

1 Corinthians 2:9-10



Episode 109: Billy Hallowell on Playing with Fire

By / Mar 10

For The Church Podcast

Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson visits with journalist Billy Hallowell about spiritual warfare, demonic activity, and Hallowell’s new book Playing with Fire.



Have You Been With Jesus?

By / Feb 26

A friend and I talked about a conference we both attended, during different years. I told him about the year I attended. Then he told me about the year he attended.

As he listed the speakers he heard, I asked about a particular name. I knew of this man’s ministry but had never heard him speak.  I inquired, “Can he preach?”

My friend answered affirmatively and emphatically. “He knows how to handle the text,” my friend expanded. “And you can tell he’s been with Jesus.”

The conversation ended there because I did not say anything else. I could not. I was stuck on the statement, “And you can tell he’s been with Jesus.”

The statement itself was not new to me. I recognized the biblical reference.

Peter and John were arrested, because of their witness for Christ. And they did not waver in the Christian witness, as they stood trial before the Jewish rulers, elders, and scribes in Jerusalem. Almost parenthetically, Luke notes…

“Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus.” (Acts 4:13)

The apostles did not have formal education, institutional clout of ministerial prominence. But it was obvious that these men had been with Jesus. The religious leaders were not complimenting the Christlikeness of the apostles. It was just a plain statement of fact, even though these religious leaders did not know the magnitude of what they said. The words and deeds of the apostles made it obvious that these men had spent time with Jesus of Nazareth.

This is a great way to describe a preacher of the gospel. He has been with Jesus. Unfortunately, until my friend’s passing statement, I had never heard a preacher’s pulpit ministry described that way.

After scanning my mental files for a moment, I double-clicked on my own ministry. Could this be said of me? When I stand to preach, is it obvious to those who hear me that I have been with Jesus.

I take pride in the fact that I do not go to the pulpit unprepared. I labor in study to be faithful to the God-intended meaning of the text. I struggle in sermon preparation to be clear in my presentation. I saturate my heart and mind with the biblical truth to preach with passion. But the truth is that you can be faithful, clear, and passionate in the pulpit, without ever giving the sense that you have been with Jesus.

The technical, academic, and official aspects of ministry are important. Very important. But formal education, sound doctrine, spiritual giftedness, expositional preaching, and leadership expertise do not make you a Christian ministry. You need to spend time in school. You need to spend time in study. You need to spend time in the text. But none of those things make a real difference if you have not been with Jesus.

Ministry is about fulfilling a calling, not practicing a vocation. We are not professionals, who happen to do our work in a religious context. We are servants of the Lord Jesus Christ. Every aspect of our life and work should submit to the lordship of Jesus Christ. And our submission to Christ should be evident to others by what we do in ministry, and how we do it.

When a soldier was court-marshaled for sleeping at his post, he claimed he was praying. With mockery, he was asked to pray during his trial. When he finished, the chargers were dropped. It was concluded that he had to spend extended time in private prayer to pray publicly like that in a crisis.

Effective public ministry is the result of meaningful private devotion. You must spend time with Jesus, until you know what he wants you to say in that sermon. You must spend time with Jesus, until you get a sense of direction from the Lord about how to lead that congregation forward. You must spend time with Jesus, until you get wisdom from God about how to respond to that problem. You must spend time with Jesus, until you can hand that difficult person the fruit of the Spirit, rather than a piece of your mind. You must spend time with Jesus, until you can stand firm with spiritual boldness.

What does a pastor who has been with Jesus look like?

He has clean hands of unreproachable integrity. He has steady feet that walk in obedience. He has dirty knees from time spent in believing prayer. He has weary eyes from diligent study. He has a renewed mind of biblical conviction. He has a broken heart for lost people. He has a listening ear for spiritual direction. He has strong arms from bearing one another’s burdens. He has a faithful tongue that speaks the truth in love. He has firm legs that stand strong in spiritual boldness.

The pastor who has been with Jesus is a man of God. And he does not have to carry a big family Bible around everywhere for people to know it. He doesn’t have to put a religious bumper sticker on his car for people to know it. And he does not have to have a cross around his neck bigger than the one Jesus carried up Golgotha for people to know it. His walk, words, and ways make it evident to those who see him and hear him that he has been with Jesus.

Sure, you know how to handle the text. But can people tell that you have been with Jesus?

Editor’s Note: This originally published at HBCharlesJr.com



The Lord’s Remembrancer

By / Feb 25

Editor’s Note: This post is an excerpt from Jason Duesing’s recently released work, Historical Theology for the Church. The volume was co-edited with Nathan A. Finn and is available now from B&H Academic online and wherever Christian academic titles are sold.

When David Levin set out to describe the early years of the life of Cotton Mather (1663–1703), he dubbed him “the Lord’s Remembrancer.”[1] This title is, no doubt, taken from the oldest functioning judicial position in England, the King’s Remembrancer. Established in the twelfth century, this clerk serves the monarchy by reminding of previous business recorded. Yet, bestowing Mather with this honorific comes with some controversy given his role in the Salem witch trials. That chapter in Mather’s life often overshadows his prodigious work as historian, biographer, and biblical commentator.

Mather’s magnum opus, the Magnalia Christi Americana, is an example of his careful work and is the primary reason why Levin gives Mather the title of the Lord’s Remembrancer. Written to provide an ecclesiastical history of New England, Levin praises Mather for his faithful historical work stating that his “strength as a historian grows out of the range and number of his examples, and the persistence of his theme – the piety, the faith, the struggle, the perplexity, and the resignation in dozens of actual lives.”[2]

Such is a fitting description of the task of the historical theologian—a servant of the church who reminds present and future readers of previous actions and theological developments from earlier eras in the history of Christianity. As the Lord’s Remembrancers, faithful historical theologians have the opportunity of serving the church present and future, but what does that entail? How is this work done?

What is Historical Theology?

Historical theology is the study of the doctrinal development of Christians through the ages and how they have transferred their tradition to the next generation. In this, the study of historical theology allows Christians and churches to make sense of what they have inherited as well as to receive instruction from those who have lived in other times and who persevered through other trials.

To illustrate this function, consider what happens when a person walks up to observe two other people playing the game of Chess. The two opponents started the game some time previous and thus the onlooker is forced to survey the Chess board, make an assessment of what has happened, who is winning, whose turn is next, and who has the advantage. The onlooker observes a game in progress and, depending upon her knowledge of the game, is forced to put the pieces together in order to appreciate what is happening. The more one knows the game, the more one can adapt to this quickly, but anyone would prefer to have observed the game from the beginning to appreciate the match in full. Second to that, the onlooker would find help if the opponents paused their game to explain to her how many moves had occurred, what mistakes had been made, and what each player was thinking at the time. A third level of intrigue and complexity could occur should one of the players leave his game and ask the onlooker to take over and play for him. At this point, for the onlooker to have a chance, she would have to have knowledge, experience, and a sense of not only what she has inherited, but also what she should do next.

Such it is with the study of historical theology. Christians of the present and future, once they start their journey in the Christian life, either as individuals or in local churches, are put in the position of the onlooker. Christians before them are playing or have played many Chess games with the Christian tradition, each developing their skills with the doctrines of the Bible as well as contributing new understanding to how the Christian life is lived in each era and under unique circumstances. The onlooker is helped if she has the opportunity not only to study and learn in community the rules of the game, that comes through the study of the Bible, but also to learn from and observe other Christians, nearby and in previous ages, how they have done the same. Further, often in local churches or in families, the onlooker is asked to take over a game when she is brought into a church tradition, or move to a new community, or join a new Christian family. The discipleship that comes through the study of historical theology can aid the onlooker in understanding her new surroundings, what has taken place before, and how to know what should take place next.

Historical Theology for the Church

In light of these definitions for this new book, the editors and contributors asked, “What would it look like to develop a historical theology for the church?” The result was the start of a list of characteristics that is, by no means, final or comprehensive. Yet, this list provides a tangible blueprint to give an outline for future and ongoing construction of historical theology for the church.

  1. Historical Theology for the church upholds the primacy of the Bible over tradition and history but recognizes the value of tradition and history.

Historical theology for the church should lean upon and listen to these contemporary guides who are seeking to uphold the primacy of the Bible as the sole authority while recognizing the value of the Christian tradition for reading and interpreting the Bible.

  • Historical Theology for the church follows the two Greatest Commandments as it is for the Church catholic and church local.

Historical theology for the church is done well when the church loves God and loves neighbor by valuing and learning from other expressions and traditions of the church catholic in history.

  • Historical Theology for the church is done as a means to the end of fulfilling the Great Commission and glorifying God.

Historical theology for the church functions as a tool to equip churches to learn and take their history of doctrinal development to those who do not yet even have a historical theology.

  • Historical Theology for the church is both academic and edifying as it functions as friend to the work of systematic theology, biblical theology, and applied theology.

When these disciplines stick closer than brothers (Prov 18:24) for the church, they are modeling what the Lord Jesus modeled and provides for his disciples. He is the one who, when his church was separated and far from him due to sin, brought her near at the price of his own blood (Eph 2:12-13). He loved the church, laid down his life, and called the church friends (John 15:13-15).

  • Historical Theology for the church as an academic endeavor is done as a servant of the church, not as a master.

Historical theology for the church, functioning as a donkey carrying the Master (Mark 11:3), serves his church well when it strives to provide correction of contemporary misapplications of the past for present and future churches.

The pursuit of scholarship for the church is not without cost. Nevertheless, historical theologians doing historical theology for the church have, on the one hand, the privilege of doing the humble work of a donkey for the Master carefully guiding the church to the good, the true and the beautiful in history, while on the other hand, simultaneously pointing out the lack of theological clothes worn by many Emperor’s of the academy.

The Lord’s Remembrancers

Benjamin Colman, preaching after Cotton Mather’s funeral, noted that in his written work Mather,

shone; being exceeding communicative, and bringing out of his Treasury things new and old, without measure. Here it was seen how his Wit, and Fancy, his Invention, his Quickness of thought, and ready Apprehension were all consecrated to God, as well as his Heart, Will, and Affections; and out of his Abundance within his lips overlow’d, dropt as the honeycomb, fed all that came near him, and were as the choice silver, for richness and brightness, pleasure and profit.[3]

Jesus instructed that “every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” (Matt 13:52).

Historical theology can be done for the church when historical theologians bring out the treasures from the doctrines of history and serve them as the Lord’s Remembrancers.

[1] David Levin, Cotton Mather: The Young Life of the Lord’s Remembrancer, 1663-1703 (Harvard, 1978).

[2] Ibid., 262.

[3] Levin, Cotton Mather, ii.



Spirits in Bondage: A Book Review

By / Feb 25

Lexham Press has done all Lewis enthusiasts a great service by publishing this new edition of Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics. The introduction by Karren Swallow Prior would alone be worth the price of the book, but the real prize is the window we receive into the pre-conversion heart of Lewis through these poems. Here we are introduced to a Lewis many of us have heard of, but have never met. There are certain enriching continuities—the love of words, the love of nature, the love of fantasy and adventure. But there are also stark discontinuities—cynical, hopeless, condescending. This Lewis is a house divided: enthralled by the enchanted world he insists is strictly material. This conflict of convictions is occasionally felt by Lewis, and when the materialistic disenchantment wins the battle, it is hard to grieve for the young soul-stricken Lewis—sitting in his dirty trench and suffocating from hopelessness:

False, mocking fancy! Once I too could dream,
Who now can only see with vulgar eye
That he’s no nearer to the moon than I
And she’s a stone that catches the sun’s beam.

What call have I to dream of anything?
I am a wolf. Back to the world again,
And speech of fellow-brutes that once were men
Our throats can bark of slaughter: cannot sing. (pg. 7)

This cynicism does at some places give way to throbbing conceit, as in the case of the ever-condescending poem, “In Praise of Solid People” (the delicious irony is that all the things young Lewis patronizingly praises in “solid people,” aged and converted Lewis praises in good faith). There is no mistaking the old self Lewis describes in Surprised by Joy many years later: a self who is very angry at God for not existing:

Come let us curse our Master ere we die,
For all our hopes in endless ruin lie.
The good is dead. Let us curse God most High.
…
O universal strength, I know it well,
It is but froth of folly to rebel,
For thou art Lord and hast the keys of Hell.

Yet I will not bow down to thee nor love thee,
For looking in my own heart I can prove thee,
And know this frail, bruised being is above thee. (pg. 27-28)

If this were all we ever had for this young poet, Spirits in Bondage would be a straightforward tragedy. But the looming and towering giant we as C.S. Lewis casts light backwards into these dark poems. And what we discover in the daylight of time passing is that the hound of heaven was at the young aspiring poet’s heels the whole time. Or rather, heaven was pulling him there irresistibly—he was always bound for Aslan’s Country. The fight between Lewis’s affections for “Northernness” and his pessimistic disenchantment was only ever going to go one way. Christ Jesus had him by the gut, and that was that. Lewis’s later conversion transforms moments of hopefulness and longing from pictures of inconsistency to pictures of destiny. These are the stabs of joy that were the beginning of the end of Lewis’s atheism:

Or is it all a folly of the wise,
Bidding us walk these ways with blinded eyes
While all around us real flowers arise?

But, by the very God, we know, we know
That somewhere still, beyond the Northern snow
Waiting for us the red-rose gardens blow. (pg. 63)
…
And the all of the roads is upon me, a desire in my spirit has grown
To wander forth in the highways, ‘twixt earth and sky alone,
And seek for the lands no foot has trod and the seas no sail has known:

—For the lands to the west of the evening and east of the morning’s birth,
Where the gods unseen in their valleys green are glad at the ends of the earth
And fear no morrow to bring them sorrow, nor night to quench their mirth. (pg. 81-82)

In this little collection of poems, we have the privilege of getting to know Lewis better. It is, in its way, a magnificent display of God’s saving grace. It is also a window into the aspirations of Lewis, who loved poetry more than prose, and desired to be a poet far more than an apologist. There are many references in Spirits in Bondage that I—as someone who did not receive the kind of classical education Lewis enjoyed, formal and informal—miss in ignorance. But the central and glaring truth in Spirits in Bondage is the truth Lewis himself missed in ignorance while he wrote: God is a gracious God who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. Lewis’s story, and the story of this whole world, begins and ends in some way or another illustrating this central truth.



The Way to God

By / Feb 24

Years ago, two cousins were visiting near the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia. Although they were told by their parents not to venture into the swamp, they disobeyed. As the sun was setting, they decided to head home in hopes that their absence would not be detected.

Neither boy made it back. When they were found dead a few days later, a note was attached to one of the boys. It read, “I thought I knew the way, but I was wrong.”

Do you know the way to God? Are you sure you are right?

Jesus declared that He is the way to God. He said in John 14:6, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” According to Jesus, if you hope to get to God, you must come through Him.

On Lake Geneva in Switzerland, the beautiful castle of Chillon sits on the water’s edge with a moat in front and the lake surrounding three sides. There is only one way to enter in—across the moat bridge and through the huge doors in the front. And one may enter there only if the gate is let down and the door is opened from the inside.

Jesus is the bridge let down and the door opened to God. His death on the cross is “the new and living way (Hebrews 10:20).” Peter said, “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved (Acts 4:12).” Jesus is the way.

Jesus also said, “I am the truth.” He is the truth about God. God has told you the truth through His Word, but He did it “in person” through the coming of Jesus Christ. Jesus, who is also called the Word in John 1, is the perfect expression of God (Hebrews 1:1-3). “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father,” Jesus claimed (John 14:9).

There are people who believe in a concept of God but only think of Jesus as just another philosopher, though perhaps of superior quality. The Bible says that Christ came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive Him (John 1:11). Is it possible for people to believe only in God and to dismiss Christ as merely a teacher?

Jesus taught that it was impossible to truly believe in the Father without believing in the Son as well. Once He told some religious leaders, “You do not know me or my Father. If you knew me, you would know my Father also (John 8:19).” He also said, “I and the Father are one (John 10:30).” To reject Christ is to reject the Father completely, for they are one in essence.

Jesus was worshipped as God, controlled nature as God, forgave sins as God, did miracles as God, and lived perfectly as God. Jesus is the truth about God.

Jesus also asserted that He is the life.

A friend of mine was once in a serious car accident. He was taken out of the car as dead. When the medics examined him, they said to each other, “This one is gone.” My friend could hear them speaking but could not move. He wanted to shout, “Get to work on me. I’m not dead. I’m alive!” But he could not get a word out of his mouth.

The Bible teaches that you are worse off than my friend. The Bible says that you are spiritually dead, not just paralyzed (Ephesians 2:1). This is why you need Jesus so badly. He is the life. He can bring life into your dead soul, life that is transforming and exciting for now, and life that will last forever in eternity. John said, “And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life (1 John 5:11).”

We used to hang a colorful picture of heaven and hell in our children’s room. It depicted a huge cavern full of fire, representing hell. On one side is a city awaiting destruction. On the other side is heaven. Across the cavern is a huge cross over which some people are walking.

The scene is a graphic reminder that Christ is the way to God, and nobody comes to the Father but through Him. It also shows us that the cross is the means by which He has secured a place for sinful people in heaven. Peter said, “For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God (1 Peter 3:18).”

You must trust Christ as the only way to the Father. He demands that you depend upon Him alone for your salvation. There are important facts you must believe about Christ, that is true, but ultimately you must put your faith in the person Himself. He is the way and nobody, including you, will get to the Father but through Him.

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



The Simple Gospel of Carl Henry

By / Feb 23

If you examine a list of the best preachers of the 20th century, you will find the names of great orators such as Billy Graham, G. Campbell Morgan, and Gardner C. Taylor, but one name that most likely will not appear on the list would be Carl F. H. Henry. Much more powerful with a pen than in the pulpit, Henry tells a brief anecdote about his preaching prowess in his autobiography Confessions of a Theologian. He wrote:

In the early afternoon I sauntered through Hyde Park, where scores of crusaders daily mount their soapboxes in behest of a hundred and one causes. Billy Graham had been there some weeks earlier when, accompanied by media coverage, he drew thousands of observers. But I was less known than even the unknown God of the Athenians. I listened momentarily here and there to some thumping radical or partisan until I happened on a father and son team who from a stepladder took turns exhorting listeners to put their hearts right with God. I commended them. “Do you have a word from the Lord?” asked the father. Introduced as “an American visitor” I somewhat reluctantly mounted the ladder to give my testimony about God’s forgiving sins and saving me. “Right now,” I continued, “if you will repent and receive Christ as Savior, God will forgive your sins, too, and give you new life.”…I disengaged myself from my lofty perch as discreetly as possible and listened to the father and son a bit longer until I could saunter away unobserved. I paid no attention to two men walking nearby until I overheard one of them remark, “That blooming American didn’t have very much to say, did he?” Graham’s calling and mine, I mused, are very different, and I was willing to leave it that way.

Lessons from Hyde Park

Henry’s mockers would have probably been surprised to learn that one of the foremost evangelical theologians had been in their midst. That “blooming American” was the founding editor of Christianity Today and the author of the six-volume magisterial defense of the Christian faith, God, Revelation and Authority. Anyone who has encountered Henry will quickly observe his towering intellect and know that this man indeed had much to say. What then, can we learn from Henry’s unassuming trip to Hyde Park?

First, Henry was not Graham, nor did God intend for him to be. The Neo-Evangelical movement was strengthened by the diversity of gifts. It was not that Henry thought the calling to be a preacher was wholly distinct from the calling to be a theologian. Both tasks require a resolute reliance upon the power of the gospel. Nevertheless, Henry understood that it was the Lord’s prerogative to endow his people with various gifts to build His kingdom. Henry was once called the “brain of the evangelical movement,” but he understood that the movement must also have hands, head, and heart. There is a temptation for the modern Christian academy to forget our role in this organism. Not only is there diversity in the various disciplines within Christian academia, but the many outside the academy are within our family. Cultivating this spiritual symbiotic relationship not only strengthens the academy but, more importantly, it strengthens the church.

Second, although Henry mined the depths of Christian theology, he was not so complex that he could not offer sinners a simple gospel. Once when asked by Paul House about the most important thing to teach seminarians, Henry responded, “Never let them forget the glory of a soul saved.” Henry certainly did not forget. His former students at Fuller recount his passion for evangelism, whether it was seen in Henry spending the night on the streets of Pasadena sharing the gospel or simply sharing the gospel with the local mailman. He continued all of his life in holy amazement for the God who speaks and saves.

Carl F.H. Henry’s Greatest Treasure

It could be said that the goal of Henry’s great magnum opus God, Revelation and Authority, was simply to present the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ. Henry believed that effective evangelistic outreach should be shaped by biblically faithful theology. The academy must go before the pulpit, helping to make straight the paths and remove obstacles. The life of Henry reminds us today that it is the gospel that is the power of God unto salvation (Romans 1:16). Henry knew this power personally and it fueled him throughout his life. He closed his autobiography by reflecting on his life and ministry. When asked about his greatest treasure, he wrote:

Family aside, I’d begin with Scripture…the most read book of my life. And communion with God…waiting before God. I have done less waiting than working, and my works would have been better had I waited more. But I have enjoyed God’s incomparable companionship…My deepest memories are those spent waiting before God, often praying for others…sometimes waiting before him in tears, sometimes in joy, sometimes wrestling alternatives, sometimes just worshiping him in adoration. Heaven will be an unending feast for the soul that basks in his presence. And it will be brighter because some will be there whom I brought to Jesus.

This is the simple gospel of Carl Henry. This is the gospel that raises the dead to life from the God who speaks and shows.

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



The Miraculous Ministry of Jesus

By / Feb 19

The ministry of Jesus is miraculous. It was miraculous from the beginning, being born of the virgin Mary. It was miraculous at the end, being raised from the dead on the third day. And it was miraculous every moment in between.

In our world, where “normal” is an acceptance of brokenness and an expectation of disappointment, miracles feel like a break from reality. An interruption. Something crashing in from outside this world. But the Bible doesn’t present miracles as a break from reality. The Bible presents miracles as an in-breaking of ultimate reality.

In his book, Can We Trust the Gospels?, Theologian Peter J. Williams explains biblical miracles this way.

“They are presented not as random disturbances of an otherwise orderly universe but as events that actually form an orderly pattern pointing to God’s meaningful action in the world. Reports of miracles surrounding Jesus are not disruptions of order but signs pointing to who he is.”

Miracles point us not only to what God can do but to who God is. The Bible includes them to display the character of God. Whether we realize it or not, that’s why we love the miracles of the Bible. They give us what our heart longs for: the miraculous hope of God. Our hearts long to believe in something greater than what our eyes can see and what science can explain. Miracles point to the power and glory and healing and provision and satisfaction of God who made this world, oversees this world, and one day will restore this world. Miracles prove that even when all looks lost, in the hands of God, it never really is.

The New Testament bears witness to the reality that God’s kingdom has been inaugurated in Christ. But while that new kingdom reigns, it does not yet reign as it will. There is an “already” but also a “not yet.” Jesus has already come but not yet consummated his kingdom as he one day will. As the entirety of the Christian life, miracles find their place somewhere here. The kingdom has broken in, and miracles are signposts pointing to what one day will be every day. But it’s not here yet.

John Stott said:

“Is not the most helpful way to approach the gospel miracles to place them within the familiar and inescapable tension between the already and the not yet, kingdom come and kingdom coming, the new age inaugurated and the new age consummated? To the skeptical (who doubt all miracles), I want to say ‘but already we have tasted the powers of the age to come.’ To the credulous (who think that healing miracles are an everyday occurrence), I want to say ‘but not yet have we been given resurrection bodies free from disease, pain, infirmity, handicap, and death.’” (Evangelical Essentials: A Liberal Evangelical Dialogue)

The miraculous ministry of Jesus points us to the kingdom God brought—and is bringing—into this world. But there is more yet to come. As great as a miracle is, we know—and God knows—a healing, a raising, a providing, a calming, a restoring in this world, no matter how real, is only temporary. All who were healed, raised, provided for, calmed, and restored one day died.

The miraculous is fascinating, but it’s not the point of God’s work. To see only the miracle and not raise one’s eyes above to the giver of the miracle is like licking the rock splattered with the water from the raging river beyond. Miracles are calls to come to the source and open wide. They reveal what only God can do, and create a longing for another. No one who saw a miracle ever wanted to see only one miracle. That’s why the crowds followed Jesus. They wanted another. Another they have, if they’ll look not for the miracle itself.

God’s miracles are funny things. They provide for our most pressing needs while revealing our need far beyond. Jesus never performed a miracle someone didn’t need that very moment, but he also never performed a miracle for someone that didn’t have a greater need. As much as we may cry out for something only God can do, miracles point us to someone only God is. Only God can give sight to the blind. Only God can grant hearing to the deaf. Only God can calm the storms at sea. Only God can make five loaves into a feast for thousands. Only God can raise the dead. But none of those things are the point. All are but mere pointers to the God who is there and is not silent, calling out through the miracles to our need for him.

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