Addressing Fraternal Disagreements in the Body of Christ

Scripture does not require brothers and sisters in Christ to agree about everything, but it does place certain expectations on the way we are to disagree with one another. Biblical authors—and Jesus himself—seem to place a considerable weight on the way we disagree with one another.

Glorifying God with One Mind and One Voice

Since its inception, God called the church to pursue unity. Jesus asked the Father for his followers to be “made completely one” so “that the world may know” he was sent by the Father (John 17:23). Peter instructed the churches in Asia Minor to “be like-minded” (1 Pet. 3:8, CSB) or to “have unity of mind” (1 Pet. 3:8, ESV). Paul likewise urged the Corinthians to “be united with the same understanding and the same conviction” (1 Cor. 1:10). He also challenged them to “become mature,” to “be of the same mind,” and to “be at peace” (2 Cor. 13:11b).

Yet the pleas of Jesus and the apostles for unity of mind were not demands for uniformity of thought, nor were they a total rejection of a diversity of opinions and practices within the church. This is evident in Rom. 14–15, where Paul contrasts those who are “strong” with those who are “weak” in faith. The “weak” here describes Jewish Christians who had practical and philosophical differences with their Gentile counterparts. The “weak” brothers do not appear to disagree with the “strong” about the requirements of salvation. (Paul did not accuse them of subscribing to a false gospel like he did with the Galatian agitators who required adherence to the Law for salvation.) But the “weak” do differ from the “strong” in their beliefs about what constitutes a mature follower of Christ. They seem to be working from different convictions about what is and what is not appropriate behavior. The “strong” “believes he may eat anything” while the “one who is weak eats only vegetables” (Rom. 14:2). The “weak” believes “one day to be more important than another day” while the “strong” considers “every day to be the same” (Rom. 14:5).

Biblical authors—and Jesus himself—seem to place a considerable weight on the way we disagree with one another. Click To Tweet Paul ends his discourse on the ethics of disagreement with this intercession: “May the God who gives endurance and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, according to Christ Jesus, so that you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ with one mind and one voice” (Rom. 15:5–6). Paul sees the unity between Jews and Gentiles in Christ as the fulfillment of the promises of God across the Old Testament (2 Sam. 22:50; Ps. 18:49; 117:1; Deut. 32:43; Isa. 11:10). We who have many differences can glorify God by the way we come together to praise the Lord and honor his name (Rom. 15:7–12). But it is crucial to note that Paul sees this kind of unity as something only God can grant to believers (Rom. 15:5). We cannot achieve it by our own merit.

Christian unity is a gift from God for the glory of God.

Pursuing Gospel Unity Despite Our Disagreements

The differences between Jewish and Gentile Christians over matters of food are not identical to the theological differences between Christians today, as these differences largely stem from different approaches to the interpretation of biblical texts while Jewish and Gentile differences originated in competing traditions and customs. However, many of the same principles seem to apply.

First, we must pursue peace where we can with like-minded brothers and sisters in Christ. Where we can have unity in the gospel itself, let us pursue unity and tranquility. All followers of Jesus share the same gospel message—“that Christ died for our sins” and “was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Cor. 15:3, 4)—but we often disagree about the mechanics of the gospel (e.g., conditional vs. unconditional election, particular atonement vs. universal atonement, etc.) and the implications of the gospel for our lives (i.e., what new practices we should adopt as followers of Jesus). We can major on the majors and minor on the minors, but only if we can discern between the essentials and the non-essentials of the Christian faith. Our unity does not come from uniformity of thought, but from having the same Savior, the same mission, and the same love for one another. Our unity does not come from uniformity of thought, but from having the same Savior, the same mission, and the same love for one another. Click To Tweet

Second, we should be accepting of differences in opinion, especially in debatable matters. As Paul instructs us, we must not get hung up over disputable matters. Yes, we must address denials of essential Christian doctrines like the Trinity, the resurrection of Jesus, and salvation by grace through faith alone head on when we encounter them. However, we cannot be contentious on matters that are not directly addressed in Scripture or matters where the meaning of Scripture is widely disputed. Many of our theological differences come from our imperfections as interpreters of Scripture: our finitude, our ignorance of historical details, our biases, our reasoning processes, and our emotions. (I explain these interpretive differences in greater detail in my recent volume, When Doctrine Divides the People of God.)

Third, we should refrain from condemning those with whom we disagree. It is one thing to judge their opinion as incorrect and quite another to condemn them for holding that opinion. This is not a slippery-slope brand of relativism that says there is no truth on these matters, but it is an acknowledgment that the building up of those for whom Christ died (Rom. 14:15) is more important than winning an argument over the matter.

Fourth, sometimes gentle, private correction is needed. Luke’s account of the conversion of Apollos in Acts 18:24–28 provides helpful guidance for how a young believer can be encouraged in his giftedness but also gently corrected when needed.

Apollos was a gifted man who was “competent in the use of the Scriptures” (Acts 18:24), “fervent in spirit” (18:25), and bold in his proclamation of the gospel (18:26). Luke tells us he was “speaking and teaching accurately about Jesus,” even though he was working with incomplete information (18:25). Priscilla and Aquilla loved Apollos enough to take him aside and gently correct him, to fill in the gaps in his knowledge (18:26). They did not contest him in the synagogues, or push their glasses up their nose and say, “Well, actually . . .” Instead, they saw his giftedness and wanting to encourage him rather than discourage him, took to private correction. We must be careful about what we say in the public eye about each other, especially in an age when everyone with a social media account can see our business. Click To Tweet

Finally, we must remember that our gospel witness is on the line in the way we disagree with one another. We must be careful about what we say in the public eye about each other, especially in an age when everyone with a social media account can see our business. The unbelieving world now has access to our denominational squabbles and political dogfights through technology. And yes, the way we handle our public disputes as followers of Jesus does have an impact on the credibility of our gospel witness. Believers should be able to express genuine love and concern for one another even as they give voice to their disagreements.

Whenever we publicly express disagreement with a brother in Christ, we should ask two questions. First, we must ask if our response builds up the other person or tears him down. Does this response merely prove I am right or is it a gentle, loving correction? Second, does our response model the kind of God-glorifying unity for which Jesus prayed? If our answers tear down an individual or fail to model God-honoring single-mindedness of mission, it may be better to refrain from making a comment.

Sometimes, it is best to follow the advice of Thumper’s mother, “If you can’t tweet anything nice, stay off Twitter.” Or, to quote Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 329–390), “If we cannot resolve our disputes outright, let us at least make this mutual concession, to utter spiritual truths with the restraint due to them, to discuss holy things in a holy matter, and not to broadcast to a profane hearing what is not to be divulged.” The well-being of our brother and the effectiveness of our gospel witness is on the line.

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



Why Every Single Person Matters

There are few things that make me more proud to be the pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville than Christ Pres’s unique emphasis on children with special needs. Once a year, our team of staff and hundreds of volunteers put on an amazing “vacation Bible school” for kids with special needs and their siblings. There is also a monthly expression of this called “Special Saturdays” which does several things. Weekly, a team of men, women, and students serve as “buddies” to kids with special needs, accompanying them all morning long to support their parents in freeing them to worship and interact with others.

At a recent benefit for Joni and Friends, a global ministry to people with disabilities and special needs founded by a friend and personal hero of mine, Joni Eareckson Tada, I shared at length why the special needs community is such a significant part of my journey as a follower of Christ and as a human being (That audio is available here if you would like). Some of the reasons I also share here…

First, an emphasis on people with special needs pulls a community together to participate in something that Jesus is pleased with. After all, Jesus, always gave special attention to the weak, the underdog, and the disadvantaged.

Second, it affirms that every person has dignity or, as Martin Luther King, Jr. said, ‘there are no gradations in the image of God.’

Third, it reminds us that, sometimes to our surprise, people with special needs have more to teach us about the kingdom of God than we have to teach them.

King David understood this. After his best friend Jonathan died in battle, his first order to his staff was to tell him if there was anyone to whom he could show favor for Jonathan’s sake.

Enters Mephibosheth, Jonathan’s orphaned son who is crippled in both feet.

Rather than saying, ‘On second thought…’ or assuming a retail approach to relationships (a retail approach runs from sacrifice and prioritizes being relationship with people who are more useful than they are costly), David assures Mephibosheth that his future will be bright. David promises to restore the entire fortune of his predecessor King Saul, also Mephibosheth’s grandfather, to the young man. Second, David adopts him as his own son, assuring him that he will always have a seat at the king’s table. You can read the full story in 2 Samuel 9.

In this instance, David demonstrates what a heart that’s been transformed by the gospel is capable of—an extreme other-orientation. His first order to his staff as king sends a message. ‘My kingliness will not be marked by domineering. It will be marked by love and sacrifice.’ David starts his reign by actively looking for an opportunity to lay down his life for someone who needs him to do this. He is actively looking, in other words, to limit his own options, to shut his own freedoms down, in order to strengthen an orphan who is weak.

Eugene Peterson said that hesed love—the word used to describe the love that David has for Jonathan and Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan—sees behind or beneath whatever society designates a person to be (disabled, option limiting, costly, etc.) and instead acts to affirm a God-created identity in the person. In other words, Peterson is saying that to be human is to carry intrinsic value and dignity.

To make the point, Henri Nouwen shared these words in a biography he wrote of a friend of his named Adam, who lived with a disability:

“Adam was sent to bring good news to the world. It was his mission, as it was the mission of Jesus. Adam was—very simply, quietly, and uniquely—there! He was a person, who by his very life announced the marvelous mystery of our God: I am precious, beloved, whole, and born of God. Adam bore silent witness to this mystery, which has nothing to do with whether or not he could speak, walk, or express himself, whether or not he made money, had a job, was fashionable, famous, married or single. It had to do with his being. He was and is a beloved child of God. It is the same news that Jesus came to announce, and it is the news that all those who are poor keep proclaiming in and through their very weakness. Life is a gift. Each one of us is unique, known by name, and loved by the One who fashioned us.”

Similarly, my friend Gabe Lyons wrote a beautiful essay about his son Cade, who has Down Syndrome. In the essay Gabe points out that over 92% of children in utero with Down Syndrome are aborted. Gabe offers a refreshing, counter-culture perspective from the parents of the other 8%. His essay is a celebration of Cade’s dignity, as well as the remarkable contribution Cade makes in the lives of people around him. He demonstrates an uncanny ability to live in the moment, a remarkable empathy for others, a refreshing boldness, and a commitment to complete honesty.

Gabe, along with the many parents who grace our church with the presence of their children who have special needs, are simply practicing good theology. Because the neighbor love part of the Kingdom of God is, at its core, a resistance movement against social Darwinism. Social Darwinism—‘survival of the fittest’ in the human community—tells us that it is those who are powerful, privileged, handsome, rich and wise who command our special attention, while those who are weak, physically or mentally challenged, and poor are ignorable at best, and disposable at worst

But no person is ignorable.

No person is disposable.

No person is a mistake.

Every person, whether an expert or a child with special needs, is a carrier of an everlasting soul.

There are no gradations in the image of God.

In terms of gifting, resources, and opportunity, everyone is different. In terms of dignity and value, everyone is the same. As Francis Schaeffer once said, ‘There are no little people.’

How do we know this? Because of how Jesus chose to take on his humanity. He, the Creator of everything that is, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Alpha and the Omega, the Seed who crushed the serpent’s head, the Beginning and the End, became weak, disabled, and disposed of.

There was nothing about him that caused us to desire him…he was despised and rejected by men. He came to his own, but his own did not receive him.

He chose that.

Jesus became poor so we could become rich in God. He was orphaned so we could become daughters and sons of God. He was brutally executed so we could live abundantly in his Kingdom. He was made invisible so we could be seen. He became weak so we could become strong. He became crippled in both feet…and in both hands also…so we could walk and not grow weary, so we could run and not grow faint.

If this isn’t enough to convince you that every person matters…

…what will?

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



A Revolution Comes to Its Rallying Place

We opened in prayer. How could we start any other way? With heads bowed and eyes closed, we asked for the Lord’s blessing, for fresh eyes to see his Word, and for enlarged hearts to receive his grace.

The local expression of God’s church to which I belong is beautiful. How could she not be? Christ died for her. Though she isn’t big by American standards, she is large in the realms of glory. She is young but not immature. She is small yet mighty.

I have only a small vantage point compared to the all-knowing eyes above, but what I saw last Sunday was breathtaking.

Down the hall, a group of women were opening the pages of Micah. And in our men’s Bible study, we were looking at Psalm 116, learning from Tim Keller how to pray the Scriptures. Taking five minutes to pray the words before us, one man prayed a simple and obvious prayer from the first verse. “I love you, Lord, because you’ve heard me and done so much for me.” The simplicity of it struck me. How could something so basic be so moving? We opened the Bible. We prayed the Bible. And glory came down.

An hour later, gathered in the cafeteria of an elementary school, we sang praises to God. Our pastor stood and preached a difficult but wonderful sermon from Mark 10:1-12: Jesus’ teachings on divorce. We took communion. We gave of our tithes and offerings. We sang a few more songs and we left.

Down the road, a group of women met in my living room to discuss a Christian book. They opened up to one another, asking questions and digging deep.

Hours later, my living room was filled again with our community group, there to catch up with one another, pray for one another, and discuss the day’s sermon.

It wasn’t a banner day, really. But then again, it was. It was the Lord’s day, and I saw his hand upon the breadth of it.

I admit, most Sundays come and go without these thoughts. I don’t always see the beauty of the church. Too often, I see the shortcomings. I wish for more: more people, more intensity, more good feelings, more something. But whether I see it or not, God’s glory descends upon our church week by week, day by day, moment by moment. Not because we have built something great but because, with his blood, Jesus has.

Ephesians 5:25 says, “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” The church gathers in the aftermath of the crucifixion. We are a sacrificial gathering, but not one offering our sacrifices to please God; we come under the God-pleasing sacrifice of Christ. We assemble as ones freed from eternal wrath, washed by cleansing blood, redeemed from death by death.

Is that crazy? God gave himself up for this. The church is not man’s idea. We wouldn’t have thought of it. We would over-complicate it. We would muddle it. We would infuse it with more things, thinking our stuffing would enhance the flavor. But what we add only detracts. What God gives is pure and undefiled.

The message never changes. At least it shouldn’t. It’s the old, old story of Jesus and his love. Told again and again, from page to page and sermon to sermon. The gospel’s glory held high, multifaceted and eminently practical. We come with our fears and find courage. We come with our anxieties and find peace. We come with our wounds and find healing. We come with our joys and find gratitude. We come in a thousand different ways all at the same time and yet we come—we come to the Lord and his people.

What do we find when we get there? On the surface, not much. A few songs. A talk that lasts too long for the kids in the pew. A little bread and juice. A benediction and it’s over. But it’s not. It’s never really over. We’re changed, even if only a little, passing to another degree of glory. The chatter that happens on the way out is a glorious reminder that these are God’s people, his family, and today’s reunion was another picture of the eternal home to which we’re going. It will have better lighting, for the Lord will be our sun. There will be more life, for we will be made new. Yet it will feel like home, because we’ve been here before, gathered under the Lord’s grace, joined by his resurrected body.

Our American world doesn’t see what happens each Sabbath morning. Sunday’s interstates and highways are near empty. The Monday through Friday, nine-to-five pedal pushers press the brakes, opting for extra time in bed and another cup of coffee. But something glorious is happening in every village and town and city. The songs of the redeemed are rising like incense, a very pleasing aroma. God is tasted and seen. The King is worshiped. A revolution comes to its rallying place.

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



Episode 112: Kyle Strobel on Prayer Becoming Real

For The Church Podcast

Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson talks with Dr. Kyle Strobel, a theologian at Biola University, about honest prayer.



Guarding Your Life and Doctrine While in Seminary

Editor’s Note: This post is excerpted from Succeeding at Seminary: 12 Keys to Getting the Most Out of Your Theological Education by Jason K. Allen. The book is out now from Moody Publishers and wherever Christian books are sold.

While in seminary, much time will be devoted to your doctrine. It is a time of doctrinal formation – and that is a good thing. A seminary that does not prioritize your theological formation is not worthy of your tuition.

If you are not careful, though, an imbalance can develop. Books commenting on Scripture can replace the reading of Scripture itself. Paper writing can dry up your prayer life. Exercises for ministry formation can supplant actual, hands-on ministry. In other words, your doctrine can flourish while your spiritual life flounders.

In his must-read book Exegetical Fallacies, D.A. Carson comments on this phenomenon by telling the story of one “Ernest Christian.” Ernest was converted in high school, was deeply involved in his college ministry, was growing immensely in Bible study and prayer, and sensed a call to vocational ministry. After being affirmed by his church, he moved off to be trained at seminary.

After Ernest has been six months in seminary, the picture is very different. Ernest is spending many hours a day memorizing Greek morphology and learning the details of the itinerary of Paul’s second missionary journey. Ernest has also begun to write exegetical papers; but by the time he has finished his lexical study, his syntactical diagram, his survey of critical opinions, and his evaluation of conflicting evidence, somehow the Bible does not feel as alive to him as it once did. Ernest is troubled by this; he finds it more difficult to pray and witness than he did before he came to seminary.

Anyone familiar with seminary life knows this story is too often true. Students arrive “bright eyed and bushy tailed,” ready to conquer the world of Jesus. They get immersed in academic work and theological debate – only to one day realize they have left their first love (Rev. 2:1-7) and forgotten why they are even at seminary to begin with.

This doesn’t have to be the case! There is a better way. Remember the apostle’s dual emphasis in 1 Timothy 4:16, and stubbornly guard both life and doctrine as you learn and grow.

In truth, we must not choose between love of God and love of doctrine; it is not an “either/or” but a “both/and.” How do you truly love someone you don’t really know? The great Presbyterian theologian B.B. Warfield underscores this point:

Sometimes we hear it said that ten minutes on y our knees will give you a truer, deeper, more operative knowledge of God than ten hours over your books. “What!” is the appropriate response. “Than ten hours over your books on your knees?” Why should you turn from God when you turn to your books, or feel that you must turn from your books in order to turn to God? If learning and devotion are as antagonistic as that, then the intellectual life is in itself accursed and there can be no question of a religious life for a student, even of theology.

The heart posture with which you pursue your education will make all the difference in the world. Reject a dry, stuffy faith built on knowledge alone; choose instead a thoughtful, deepening faith built on truth and love.

In light of this danger, here is some practical wisdom that has proved helpful to me over the years. Consider five keys by which you can guard your life in seminary:

  1. Cultivate the spiritual disciplines. The spiritual disciplines remain the lifeblood for every believer. Prayer, worship, Bible intake, journaling, and others are essential for a growing follower of Christ – regardless of age or season of life. Forge these in seminary and prioritize them day by day. They will carry you through seminary and propel you forward for a lifetime of ministry.
  2. Establish healthy habits. Habits are easy to make and hard to break – bad habits at least. Good habits, meanwhile, require intentionality on the front end but can provide a lifetime of structure and reinforcing practices. Set your rhythms accordingly: awaken early, read your Bible before textbooks, commune with God before conversing with others, integrate fasting, pray with your spouse before going to bed, and so on.
  3. Prioritize prayer. As a nonquantifiable discipline, prayer is easy to gloss over. We know when we’ve read three chapters of Scripture; we may not be as aware when we’ve rushed through our prayer time. So keep a prayer list and a prayer journal. Tracking what you need to pray for will bring added motivation. Documenting God’s answers will inspire you all the more.
  4. Think devotionally about your studies. While some professors will draw the lines from their lectures to your spiritual formation, others will not. But you can draw them. Ask yourself questions like, What can I apply from this reading to my spiritual life? What sin does this lecture prompt me to confess? How will this assignment strengthen me for ministry in the local church? What new truth about God did I learn today? As you learn to ask the right questions, you will find yourself getting more out of seminary, spiritually speaking, than you ever imagined.
  5. Look for Jesus in all. Jesus is the apex of Scripture; therefore He should be the apex of your studies. Listen for Him in every lecture. Look for Him in every reading. Ask your professor how a given biblical passage connects to Him. For additional reading on this topic, I recommend How to Stay Christian in Seminary by David Mathis and Jonathan Parnell.

For three years prior to my seminary training, I served under Dr. Steve Lawson at Dauphin Way Baptist Church. Dr. Lawson was a pivotal influence on my life. He became not only a mentor but a dear friend and remains one to this day.

Dr. Lawson always took interest in young men called to ministry, and there were a number of them in our church. But I sensed he took a particular interest in me. One day I asked why. He reflected, “If a man has $100 to invest in a business, he wants to invest it in the business that will bring the greatest return. I am investing in you because I believe you will bring a return for the kingdom. Make sure you do just that.”

Dr. Lawson’s words inspired me then – and they still do. They convicted me then – and they still do. Such words remind me that my ministry is a stewardship – and so is yours.

Many have invested much in you. God has called you. Christ has strengthened you. The Holy Spirit has gifted you. Churches have supported you. Pastors have mentored you. Family members have sacrificed for you. Benefactors have invested in you. Professors have taught you. Fellow students have encouraged you.

You are a steward of a precious call, and so many others are invested in it with you. Therefore, you must guard your life and your doctrine. And seminary is one of the best places to establish healthy patterns to enable you to do just that.



The Limited Power of Accountability

The run of Marvel movies over the last few years has brought me great joy. I have always loved the superhero narrative, and now I get to enjoy it come to life on the big screen. But my fascination with the genre is more than entertainment to me. There is a scene in a movie that forever changed how I understand our war against the enemy of our souls.

In Thor: Ragnarok, Heimdall, played by Idris Elba, is standing guard over the city of Asgard. His only job is to watch for any sign of the enemy, and he does it well. At a certain point in the movie, however, he appears to lose his mind. With no threat in sight, Heimdall abandons his post and begins to run at breakneck speed down the bridge into the city. Suddenly, he launches himself off the bridge and into the abyss. Just when it seems his death is inevitable, he takes out two daggers and drives them deeply into the side of a ship cloaked in invisibility. His heroic act destroys the ship, saving the city from an enemy that was trying to go undetected.

When I saw the scene, I realized that this is precisely how we need to behave toward the enemy. All day, every day, he is trying to enter the cities of our soul to wreak havoc on our lives. We are told this in 1 Peter 5:8–9:

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.

The devil is walking around ready to overthrow us so that we will serve his purposes instead of God’s. Our missional life, our family life, our work in ministry, and the reputation of the gospel depend on our vigilance against his attacks. The problem is, like that ship in Thor: Ragnarok, the enemy often comes in secret, and we have been tasked with keeping watch over a lot of territory, our own hearts included. If we give even the tiniest of a foothold, the effects of the invisible will become horribly visible.

Unlike Heimdall, who singlehandedly protected Asgard from a covert invasion, we cannot hope to overcome the enemy alone. Our survival—not to mention our effectiveness and longevity in ministry—is dependent on our commitment not to be the only pair of eyes standing watch over our life and work. When we attempt to take on the enemy alone, we are setting up ourselves, all that we stand for, and all that we value for catastrophic failure.

Desire Transcends Accountability

For years the church has taught that accountability is the strongest and safest watchman for leaders and laypeople alike. If that’s the case, how is it that so many of the pastors whose heartbreaking failures ended up in the headlines had very solid accountability parameters in place?

The trouble is, accountability does not change desire. It can only do so much in warding off bad decisions, because desire transcends accountability. Once misdirected desire is born, desire will always find a way around accountability, usually in the form of a lie.

So, should we abandon accountability? By all means, no. Accountability plays a critical role in guarding our hearts. But it isn’t the only solution.

Something more powerful is required: intimacy. Intimacy in our relationships with God, our spouse, and our biblical community is a powerful guard over our souls. These three relationships are the Heimdall at the gates of our hearts.

God reveals it in Scripture this way. Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, said, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (Prov. 4:23 niv). Solomon is speaking of the inner part of our humanity. From our heart is born our passions, loves, and desires. That’s why we as people draw hearts in the sand when we want to express a picture of love. The emoji for love is a little red heart, not a little grey brain. Thoughts come in your head and feed your heart. From there desires grow. And out of desire grow passions. If they are the right passions, protection and wonder are born. If they are the wrong passions, sin. Your mind feeds your heart, and your heart births powerful things. You and I will give ourselves to what we love.

I’m not talking about love as a logical action of commitment, which Christians have flattened love to be. I’m talking passionate, holistic, full-feeling, full-throttle, heart’s-a-pounding love—and not only the romantic kind but also the brotherly kind. That is intimacy, which is the love that compels us to lay our lives down. Built over time and regularly tended to, it is the hallmark of relationships in which you’ve made yourself fully known to a select few. That’s the type of love we as humans pursue. When we are in love with the right things, we don’t blindly pursue those things that will ultimately lead to destruction.

Intimacy with Jesus

Ninety-nine percent of the time, when I ask people how their relationship is going with Jesus, they tell me about a sequence of things they do. To be sure, learning about Jesus is great. Understanding the life and teachings of Jesus is important. But are you in love with Him? Is your mind blown and your heart turned upside down and inside out as you reflect on the things He does in your life? Do you go through your day thinking about Him? Are you captivated by Him? Does He stir things in you? That’s the love and intimacy I’m talking about.

Intimacy with our Creator is the ultimate defense from ruining your life and the lives of others. When you are in love with Jesus, you are less vulnerable. Jesus teaches this in John 14:15: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Our intimacy with Jesus births a love that naturally stirs a desire to follow His ways. If Jesus is not one of the stirring desires in your heart, then you will not follow Him. Jesus is not using some sort of manipulative parent approach when He says this. He’s telling us that we can be at peace that the gates of our hearts are well guarded when we follow Him. If you are totally in love with God, your flesh may still be tempted to do stupid things, but avoiding them won’t feel like a burden; it will be a joy. Obedience will be a response of love, not obligation. Your life will be one grand (though imperfect) expression of your love for Him, and it will look like walking in the truth.

Intimacy with Your Spouse

There is something that stirs in me that makes me want to be with my wife. For more than twenty years, we have been nurturing that relationship. Do I feel this way every day? No! There are days I don’t want to be anywhere near the woman. Many days, she looks at me and I know what she’s thinking: “I don’t like you.” But here’s the reality: This woman, I love her. You see, while I love my wife, I am safe. I have no desire to love any other woman. I have never talked to someone who had an affair and said, “I was just so connected and in love with my wife, and then suddenly I had an affair.” It’s always, “My wife and I slowly grew apart these last few months or years.” When you are intimate with your spouse, in love and best friends with one another, you are not going to have an affair.

Now, our intimacy may not protect me from momentary lapses in judgment. That’s why I still have accountability measures in place, and you should, too. But intimacy creates the space where the people closest to you know you well enough to know your vulnerabilities and to call you out when you are lying. Because they are watchful for you and with you, they can tell when your intimacies with your Creator and family are a little off.

Intimacy with Your Biblical Community

Often, pastors and ministry leaders assume that they ought not to have friends in the church because it gets sticky. I have experienced the exact opposite. When our most intimate friendships are within our daily biblical community, we are safest from the sorts of devastating decisions that can destroy lives and ministries. I would argue that not being open and vulnerable with people from the church they lead is part of the reason leaders can fall. If you don’t have friends in your church, that’s a problem.

If you ever listen to sermons I’ve preached, you’ll discover that much of my journey and struggle is brought to the stage. It’s my final frontier of openness. The early stages of recognizing the erosion of intimacy is the perfect opportunity to come to the congregation with vulnerability and let them know that I am with them in the struggle of dailyness. What a privilege we have as leaders that we get to bring light to darkness in front of hundreds of people. This is a freedom and a safety net, not a burden. If light is our friend, then the stage is our freedom. If the shadows are our friend, the stage is a burden.

Stay Vigilant

What follows are some practical steps I take to stay vigilant against the enemy’s attacks and the slow erosion of my soul. It is how I have learned to keep my intimacies intact and strong.

1. I watch.

At the end of every week I literally ask myself, “Do I love Jesus, my wife, and my biblical community more now than I did at the beginning of the week?” Taking the time to ask and answer this question regularly is an important part of preserving the intimacies in your life and avoiding doing something stupid. This kind of ongoing, frequent assessment will give you time to make course corrections before the enemy can gain a foothold.

2. I nurture.

The question here is, what works are most advantageous to the relationship in need of nurture? When it comes to God, it may be a variety of the disciplines of the faith. These are biblical and historical habits that help us engage in intimate spaces with God. They are the things that put us in the soil of transformation. When it comes to your spouse, it may be date night or a small getaway. Maybe it’s just being more intentional with the way we say hello and good-bye each day. This looks different for all of us, but when you’re doing it well, things in you feel different and you feel in love. You are captivated by and obsessed with that reality.

3. I’m open.

Openness means I choose to be vulnerable, to live my life out of the shadows and in the light. When detect the lion prowling or I feel scared, I ask my wife and closest friends to watch my life more deeply. I invite them to pay attention to the little nuances in my life, and they do. Do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel safe.

It’s Not Over Yet

When your intimacies with Jesus, your spouse, and your biblical community are diminished, you are vulnerable day in and day out to the onslaught of whatever the enemy wants to bring. Once this happens—once your Heimdall is weakened or dies—it’s just a matter of time before some great burnout or fallout occurs in your life. If you want your heart to be guarded well, you need to develop, protect, evaluate, and assess your intimacies. That’s how you’ll keep your city safe.

Editor’s Note: This post is adapted from What Great Ministry Leaders Get Right: Six Core Competencies You Need to Succeed in Your Callingby Jimmy Dodd & Renaut van der Riet (© 2021). Published by Moody Publishers. Used by permission.



Andrew King on Why New Testament Christians Need the Old Testament

FTC.co asks Andrew King, assistant dean and assistant professor of biblical studies at Spurgeon College, “Why do New Testament Christians need the Old Testament?”



He is Risen – Now What?

Easter Weekend provides rhythms for the Christian to reflect on the various elements of Jesus’ death, burial, resurrection, and ascent. On Good Friday, we remember Christ’s blood shed for us. Holy Saturday is a time to hope and wait. Sunday, we celebrate because the grave was no match for our King. And then we come to Monday. 

Sometimes I wish we knew what the disciples did the Monday after Jesus ascended into heaven. Did they wake up, groggy with the joy of salvation? Were their conversations laced with praise for what they witnessed? Did Thomas stare at his hand, still amazed that it touched the pierced side of Jesus? We can only guess what they thought and felt. 

In 2020, I did not wake up feeling the joy of salvation on Easter Monday. I felt groggy, but it was the kind that makes you pull the covers over your head and wish that you didn’t have to move. My church’s Easter service was haunted by an empty sanctuary, the table at my home was full of food but absent of friends and family, and by the end of the day, a friend cut me deep with hurtful actions. It was the perfect storm to knock me down and cloud my shaky gaze fixed on the cross. I felt a gnawing “Now what?” in my head and though I knew the truth, I didn’t have an answer. 

We all reach these moments in life where we know the truth of the gospel, we know Christ is risen, we know He calls us to obey the Great Commission He gave us, but we feel paralyzed by the troubles of this world, unable to lift a finger toward obedience. 

Christians are not strangers to uncertainty. For the last 2,000 years, Christians have been imprisoned for their love of the gospel and do not know if they will live to see tomorrow. The unmarried in our churches are often faced with repeated disappointments in relationships and unmet good desires. Powerful people abuse their rank and exploit us in every way imaginable. We lose jobs, can’t have children, battle anxiety, face persecution, and have countless other struggles we could never anticipate. It is a weary world. 

We strive and strive and strive to keep our eyes where they should be. Our vision blurry from tears conceived by trouble, our lips trembling in fear of the unknown, our bodies heavy from the weight of sorrow. 

Now what?

Even if you don’t relate to this question today, it is reasonable to assume you either have in the past, or you will in the future. Whenever you face sorrow head-on, whether you’re asking “Now what?” today or five years from now, there are three words that will be sufficient for this question: 

He is risen. 

The very words you said yesterday in your joy are sufficient for your sorrow today or any day after. 

Christ’s resurrection is always the answer to our deepest sufferings. You may read that and think the answer is too simple and too easy, and you would be right. 

This is the miracle of the gospel! The fact that Jesus rose from the grave is the easiest and most simple answer to our most difficult and complex questions in life. The resurrection does not give us a five-year plan and it does not mean that everything is perfect right now. But it does give us everything we could ever hope for. 

Jesus himself said, “You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world.” (John 16:33). 

We are able to be courageous and press on through our struggles because Jesus conquered the world by overcoming sin and death. This doesn’t mean we won’t wake up and feel helpless tomorrow, but it does mean we will never wake up hopeless. 

The fact that He is risen is the most important information we could ever know (1 Corinthians 15:3-8), it is our living hope (1 Peter 1:3), it is what compels us to love (2 Corinthians 5:14-15), it is what frees us from sin (Romans 6:5-6), it is what equips us to do good (Hebrews 13:20-21), and it is what will allow us to reign with God forever (Revelation 20:6). 

Until we are reunited with Jesus, we will regularly ask “Now what?” We must forever return to the same three words.

He is risen.



Links For The Church (4/5)

Right in Our Own Eyes: How Pride Keeps Us from Counsel

Jon Bloom writes about the ways we may avoid or ignore the counsel of fellow believers. Our motivation for this is pride and he encourages us to listen to wisdom.

The Local Church and the Missionary

With our increasingly changing culture, missionaries are valuable examples to the local church of how to engage and share the gospel with our neighbors. Peter Mead points us to listen to the missionary’s wisdom.

When You’ve Given Your Troubles to God—But Still Can’t Sleep

“What we need more than anything is for God, in all his glory, to carry us even when the hours of sleep aren’t enough to get us through the day.” – Courtney Reissig.

How Should Christians Be Discipled to Engage Pop Culture?

Taylor Combs provides practical and Biblical advice for engaging pop culture. Pastors can give godly and balanced guidelines to their churches, and believers can consume pop culture with a careful eye.



Pastors Must Be Well Thought of By Outsiders

Part of living as a Christian is living as a witness to the reality of God in the world. For the pastor, there is this additional requirement: “he must be well thought of by outsiders” (1 Tim. 3:7). There are numerous ways to go about this, but ministers of the gospel ought to take great care to cultivating this qualification. Here are some practical ways to achieve this end:

1. Be involved in your community.

Do you have a third place where you can be a regular? The coffee shop, the café, the corner store, the gym, etc.? Be active, be present, and be friendly. Becoming a regular at a third place is a great way to stay tuned-in to the concerns and values of lost people.

Similarly, if your children are in school, be an active parent. Volunteer to chaperone field trips or to work lunchroom duties. Participate in school sports or on the school board.

 Are there other ways to “get out” and be a regular presence? Take advantage of those.

In addition to helping you get to know your community and its needs, it’s also a vital way to build bridges for evangelistic engagement.

2. Evangelize.

Make a commitment to seek and seize opportunities to share the gospel with others. In order to do this, of course, you will not just need to exist outside your home and office, but also engage with people outside those walls. Listen well and ask good questions. Try to connect. Look for openings to witness to Christ. Ask people if you can pray for them.

You will find that as a pastor, religious conversations are very easy to get into. They simply arise from the normal chitchat with outsiders because of your vocation.

3. Be charitable in your dealings.

Are you known as a miser when the fundraisers come around? Will you refuse to buy Girl Scout cookies or patronize the neighborhood lemonade stand? Do you complain or about poor service at restaurants? Are you the guy at the town hall meetings shouting down other leaders? Are you a complainer or constant critic on your neighborhood’s private social media network? Are you a bad neighbor? Is your posture toward the community—or your church’s posture toward the same—seen as antagonism? There may be valid causes to fight for and injustices to correct, but can you do this graciously?

4. Be circumspect online.

The world is watching. If you are the kind of pastor who is constantly arguing on Twitter or posting angry political rants on Facebook, you are bearing witness to your true hope, which is not Christ. Bear witness to the goodness of Jesus in your online life, not simply your pet theological or political projects.            

Treat others with respect and kindness. Who you are online is who you are. You do not get a pass on biblical qualifications of gentleness and against quarrelsomeness simply because your venom is being mediated through a screen.

(This is an edited excerpt from my new book Gospel-Driven Ministry, which aims to give both pastoral and practical insight to the work of church leadership.)