The River of Wisdom

Every day the Mississippi River pours forth a confounding 7.7 billion gallons of water into the Gulf of Mexico. It boasts a stunning array of seven thousand tributaries comprised of all manner of rivers, creeks, and waterways that fan out like fingers and tentacles across the continental United States. From an aerial vantage point, the Mississippi stretches in every direction. It reaches into thirty-one states and holds significant ecological sway on approximately 40 percent of the United States.[1]

Proverbs, as a literary composition, is a bit like the mighty Mississippi River. Proverbs stretches in every direction with one all-encompassing theme—the two ways theme. This theme works through Proverbs much like the Mississippi River branches out into minor rivers and streams. All the medium and small themes feed into the larger theme of the two ways.

The two ways theme teaches us that life comes at us as a series of decisions between two ways: the fear of the Lord or the fear of man or self. All day long we are choosing between fearing the Lord (honoring God as our Creator and choosing to listen to him and follow him) or preferring our own way (disregarding and ignoring God and doing what we think will be best for us). Every person to ever walk the planet follows one or the other of these contrasting paths.

During the coming lessons, you will encounter important subthemes in Proverbs. We’ll look at the heart as decision center, wisdom versus foolishness, and the fear of the Lord versus the fear of man/self. These are important tributaries, and all flow into the main river of the two ways theme.

Stemming from those subthemes are smaller streams of wisdom. These include the many and various individual proverbs found in Proverbs 10–29 and the sayings and poems found in Proverbs 30–31. To stick with the Mississippi River analogy, every word, saying, and proverb has a place; they all come in intentional sequence and surge forth as the cumulative equivalent of 7.7 billion gallons of wisdom and fear of the Lord—all there for the drinking!

God is good to us in giving us the gift of Proverbs. He wants to save us from going our own way and wasting our lives. Proverbs helps us by reminding us to take life one decision at a time—a thought here, a purchase there, a word spoken today. These decisions all present a fork in the road.

Every decision we make, every penny spent or saved, every relationship cultivated or shattered, all sexual encounters whether righteous or evil, and every single thought pondered is a decision between two ways. Proverbs tells us that nothing is neutral. We are revealing whether we fear and love the Lord or fear people and live for ourselves.

The two ways are diverging paths that end in different locations. One fork leads toward life and light and pleasures forevermore, while the other fork leads toward pain, loneliness, death, and alienation from God and people. Praise God that we do not have to make these choices all by ourselves. As redeemed Christians, the Holy Spirit indwells us and serves as our guide to carry us into all truth (John 16:13). Because the Holy Spirit has given us new life and works actively in our lives, we can rely on him to both know the right thing to do and to empower us to be able to do it. Since we have been born again, both the once-for-all choice to follow Jesus (conversion) and each individual choice (sanctification) are empowered by God’s own Spirit.

If you are at all reflective, thinking of your life as a series of choices that leads toward either life or death can be discouraging. We can remember from our past, and even yesterday, times when we chose to go our own way and not God’s way. But the gospel brings us hope.

Jesus is the true and final Solomonic Son, the perfect Son who always listened and obeyed his Father’s voice. Jesus is the Son who did not follow the paths of folly but heard and heeded his Father’s voice. As a young boy, Jesus’s frantic parents found him in the temple. When they demanded an explanation, he simply said, “Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49 CSB). As Jesus grew in favor with God and man, he always chose to follow his Father. Then he gave his life for all our wrong choices. When we put our faith in Jesus, his wisdom, kingdom, birthright, and Spirit are ours.

With this in mind, we can read Proverbs with hope. We can be confident that the Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is alive in us and helping us to follow in Jesus’s footsteps, listening to our heavenly Father and choosing life over death each day. And when we fail (as we will), we have an advocate with the Father who ever lives to intercede for us and who helps us in our time of need (Hebrews 4:14–16).

 

Excerpted from Proverbs: Walking in the Way of Christ ©2026 by Samuel Levi Bierig. Used with permission of New Growth Press. May not be reproduced without prior written permission. To purchase this and other helpful resources, please visit newgrowthpress.com.


[1] Stephen E. Ambrose and Douglas G. Brinkley, The Mississippi and the Making of a Nation: From the Louisiana Purchase to Today (National Geographic Books, 2002), 9.



Discipled By the Internet

A podcast you’re going to listen to or watch via the Internet warns about voices on the Internet. Not all cultural and theological pundits are helpful to your growth in Christ. Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss the strange phenomenon of being “discipled by the Internet.” What does it look like? Why can it be harmful? And how do we recognize the dangers in order to be more wise in our consumption of online media?



Quiet Labor in the Lord’s Vineyard

The Danish word “hygge” became an internet sensation in the late 2010s. Some translate it as “comfort,”[1] while others describe it as a focused delight in quieter pleasures.[2] The dictionary defines it as a cozy quality that promotes contentment and comfort in life’s ordinary moments.[3] As hygge became popularized, many people—including me—misinterpreted it as a kind of “cozy idleness,” marked by a lack of productivity, lethargic rhythms, doomscrolling, and continual retreat from work and social gatherings. This was further amplified during the COVID-19 pandemic when most of the world was in lockdown.

While reading through 1 Thessalonians for my morning devotions, I read the Apostle Paul urging the church in Thessalonica to “aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one” (1 Thess. 4:11–12). These verses prompted me to ask, “Is God calling us to the kind of hygge that many of us have misunderstood?”

Certainly, Paul’s command to “live quietly” is not an invitation to withdraw from responsibility or pursue comfort. Rather, it is a call to peaceful diligence—a life marked by humble faithfulness, diligent work, and steady devotion to Christ. Christians should not mistake quietness for idleness but recognize it as a life well spent, devoted to faithful labor.

If Paul does not equate the Christian life with comfort, why does he command believers to live quietly?

The Beauty of a Quiet Life

The Apostle Paul encourages the believers in Thessalonica to aspire to live a quiet life and to mind their own affairs (1 Thess. 4:11).

This is an invitation to live peaceably, without meddling in others’ affairs but instead attending faithfully to one’s own. In doing so, the Christian is free from needless strife and gossip over matters that do not belong to us. Paul is calling Christians to cultivate humility, attentiveness to their own work, and a delight in what God has placed before them.

In this age, it is easy to be consumed by the latest news about our neighbor—maybe even our fellow church members—which can quickly turn into gossip, quarrels, and talking behind one another’s backs. Yet Paul reorients our hearts toward peaceful and quiet living, focused on the work the Lord has entrusted to us here and now.

Paul teaches the Thessalonians to live attentively before God, faithfully embracing the work He has placed before them. As the missionary and martyr Jim Elliot said, “Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.”[4]

The Dignity of Faithful Work

Paul then urges the Thessalonians to work diligently, supporting themselves so that their witness would not be hindered among the unbelievers in Thessalonica. Some believers in Thessalonica used the second coming of Christ as an excuse to stop working, while others took advantage of the wealthier members of the church instead of supporting their own lives. The Apostle Paul urges them to pursue godly diligence, live responsibly, and steward the bodies, gifts, and talents the Lord has entrusted to them. This is still true for the 21st-century Christian. No gift is too small in the Lord’s hands.

This exhortation led me to examine my view of work and sanctification. Are we striving to pursue godliness with all our might?

The Witness of Ordinary Faithfulness

I find it encouraging that Paul doesn’t simply command the Thessalonians to live a quiet life, mind their own affairs, and work with their hands; he explains why: “so that you may walk properly before outsiders (v.12).” Paul reminds us once again that every part of the Christian life bears witness to the gospel before the world. What a joy to know that the Lord delights in using His servants to make known His excellencies (1 Pet. 2:9)!

Christian, your life displays your faith. What does your life say to the world?

Laboring in the Lord’s Vineyard

In His providence, the Lord has seen fit to have you and me live in this age, season of life, and amid all the struggles that come with it. He has placed each of us in our present circumstances for our sanctification and His glory.

Yet we can easily be discouraged from continuing to labor with all our strength, pouring out our lives for God’s glory and His purposes (Col. 3:23). We are regularly tempted to idleness, and in those moments, we need to pray and strive even more to be faithful stewards of God’s good gift of work. This quiet life, the Apostle Paul teaches, is not meant to be passive. Rather, it is the means by which Christians joyfully labor, are continually conformed to Christ, and display the beauty of a full life in His kingdom.

Spurgeon reflects on work and its importance to a diligent life: “A Christian man working not at all for his Lord; how shall I speak of him? Time does not tarry, DEATH does not tarry, HELL does not tarry; Satan is not lazy, all the powers of darkness are busy: how is it that you and I can be sluggish, if the Master has put us into his vineyard?”[5]

As we await the imminent return of our Savior, may we live lives marked by peaceful diligence for God’s glory, knowing that true comfort and eternal rest will come beyond the river.

Will you labor heartily in His vineyard?


[1] Olivia Liveng, “Americans Have Hygge All Wrong. Here’s What It Is and Why It’s Important Right Now,” Fodor’s Travel Guide, February 16, 2021, https://www.fodors.com/world/europe/denmark/experiences/news/americans-have-hygge-all-wrong-heres-what-it-is-and-why-its-important-right-now.

[2] “Danish Hygge,” Denmark.dk, accessed July 2026, https://denmark.dk/people-and-culture/hygge/.

[3] Merriam-Webster, s.v. “hygge,” accessed July 2026, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/hygge.

[4] Jim Elliot, The Journals of Jim Elliot: Missionary, Martyr, Man of God, ed. Elisabeth Elliot (Grand Rapids: Revell, 2020), xx.

[5] C. H. Spurgeon, “The Sluggard’s Farm,” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 34 (London: Passmore and Alabaster, 1888), 317.



Justice in Pastoral Ministry: Caring for Souls with Humility

The Virtue of Justice

It is easy to love in general, theoretically, or ideologically, but loving neighbors and giving others their right due is quite difficult in light of all their weaknesses and quirks that drive us crazy. This requires the individual to have their soul rightly ordered to have devotion to the triune God, a disposition of self-denial, and a bent to render each his due in prudential fear of the Lord.

William Ames defines virtue as “a condition or habit by which the will is inclined toward the good and to do well. It is called a habit because it is, in general, a state of mind of various degrees of perfection. It is called habit not only because one possesses it but also because it makes the subject behave in a certain manner.”[1] Virtue, as a habit, aids the individual’s faculties to move toward good and not evil. Likewise, vice, as a habit, aids the individual’s faculties to move toward evil and not good. This is what the author of Hebrews says in his exhortation to those who should be teachers yet have remained immature and inexperienced in the faith (5:12–14). Those who are “mature,” or, virtuous, have powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil (5:14). Virtue, then, is a gift of God, in union with Christ, that trains the individual Christian to grow in love of God and love of neighbor.

Augustine’s formulation of justice is important here: “Justice is love serving God only, and therefore ruling all else well.…The object of this love is not anything, but only God, the chief good, the highest wisdom, the perfect harmony.”[2] This understanding of justice is crucial, for justice is only virtuous if the soul is ordered rightly. Pastors do not practice justice for the sake of applause from others, a building of platform, a self-vindictive vengeance, or some expectation of repayment. Certainly, pastors do not practice justice for the sake of earning righteousness before God. Pastors can only practice justice truly if we are in Christ by grace and serving God supremely. Justice, then, guides and helps pastors establish their life and doctrine in right relation to God and neighbor.

As a virtue, justice is an inclination to act rightly by rendering all their own due (i.e., love). The just person also practices temperance and is not concerned with his or her own due, but with what is due to God and neighbor. It takes place in the tangible action of giving what is due and the concrete enjoyment of the reception.

The Art of Soul Care

Augustine articulates this point that justice is love serving. Each person, as made in God’s image, is due our love (Matt. 22:37–39). The act of justice is simply loving each neighbor, regardless of functionality or utility, because they have a personal right, or due, to be treated with dignity.

If justice is love serving those made in the image of God, then pastoral work is simply that art of arts whereby souls are loved by pointing them to that sure footing when the creep of fear and storm of anxiety present themselves in the flock of God. The art of soul care takes the virtue of justice into practice because the source and subject of the pastor’s ministry is that which the weightiest burdens, the broadest sins, the deepest griefs, and the strongest losses all crush mere human kindness. And yet, these, and all the rest of the human experience, realize their end in the life-giving Word of God. “The wondrous reality is that God himself is present by means of his word to settle anxious hearts and quiet fear. ‘Thus says the Lord!’ Now that’s a mouthful of certainty in an uncertain world.”[3]

Because there are no shortcuts or easy way outs with caring for guilt and shame ridden souls, prudent and persistent justice is necessary. And the splendid mystery is that God uses feeble and weak pastors to administer the medicine of heaven, the love of God for sinners, because the same gospel reality that forgives sin also cleanses sin. For pastors, the art of the care of souls is administering the reality, truth vs. fiction, for we do not preach ourselves but Christ Jesus crucified, buried, and risen who eagerly gives life to the dead, love to the wounded, hope to the discouraged, and faith to the faithless.

In other words, in practicing the virtue of justice, pastors “are called to steadily hold forth the word of life to souls sinking in a quagmire of sin and shame, repeatedly ushering people into the presence of the living God where day after day they receive life in the midst of the death that threatens to engulf them.”[4]

Providence, Humility, and Prayer

Providence is “God’s continuous preservation, direction, and guidance of all created things to the end He has determined from eternity and for His own glory.”[5] All things are bound up with God since everything is from Him, through Him, and to Him; all things depend on God and are moved and ruled by Him (Acts 17:24–28; Rom. 11:33–36). As such, divine providence is comprehensive in that all creation actions are from him.[6]

Providence is specifically related to the virtue of justice, for though we confess God’s sovereignty with our lips, we wrestle with Him in our hearts and actions (Isa. 29:13). We continue to believe the original lie that God is not only untrustworthy but that our ways are better, our judgments of righteousness and justice better. If we are to be imitators of God, how can we wrestle with God’s just providence in all things good and evil?

Of course, the practice of justice, and particularly the pastor’s modeling thereof, is only analogous to God as just. Yet, providence and the virtue of justice relate not only in our dogmatic confession of God’s sovereignty, but also in the pastor’s ministry of the Word as a whole. As the Scriptures proclaim and direct us to the righteousness and goodness of God, it is wicked for us to ever think we could shepherd a flock better than the Good Shepherd; we are the sinners who, in God’s kindness, has made us undershepherds.

We all wrestle against the Lord in our arrogant and vain thoughts of making ourselves lord, and pastors are no exception. The pastor must practice justice in the right way: humility and prayer. Humility is a necessary friend of justice, for this inner disposition is cultivated in all our thoughts, words, and actions. And yet, Basil keeps us in check to not even let those right and good actions cultivate pride:

Do you think you have accomplished something good? Give thanks to God lest you exalt yourself above your neighbor . . . Do not judge yourself with prejudice, nor examine yourself with partiality. If you think you possess some good, do not count this to your credit while purposely overlooking your misdeeds.[7]

Pastors must practice justice in the same way that the Apostle Paul exhorts the Colossian Christians by setting their minds on things above, where our life is hidden with Christ (Col. 3:1–17). This reality of union with Christ is the only way in which justice is rightly practiced. The very nature of mortification and vivification in Colossians 3 requires humility. “The soul grows like what it pursues, and is molded and shaped according to what it does,” says Basil.[8] Our soul, united to Christ, pursues Him, for He is our life, while our interactions with one another, in the school of Christ, forms a humble, just soul.

Editor’s Note: This is an edited excerpt from Every Perfect Gift: Classical Virtues for Christian Formation


[1] William Ames, Marrow of Theology, 224.

[2] Augustine, Morals, 15.25.

[3] Harold Senkbeil, The Care of Souls, 54.

[4] Ibid., 142.

[5] Synopsis of a Purer Theology, 101.

[6] See Job 12:10; 28:23–27; 37:11–12; Pss. 104:19–28; 119:91; Isa. 10:6–7, 23; Jer. 33:20; Matt. 5:45; Acts 4:28; 14:16.

[7] Mark DelCogliano, “Introduction to Humility,” in Basil the Great, On Christian Doctrine and Practice, 115. One fellow elder, riffing off of Lewis, said to me at an elder’s meeting: “The most obvious cloak pride wears is a humble one.”

[8] Basil the Great, On Christian Doctrine and Practice, 117.



The Love That Came Down: God’s Love Revealed in Christ

The Meaning of Love of God

“In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him” (1 John 4:9; emphasis added).

A simple phrase—“the love of God”—appears 10 times in the New Testament.

Twice, the phrase comes from the lips of Jesus in the Gospels (Luke 11:42; John 5:42). Four of the occurrences are found in Paul’s letters (Rom. 5:5, 8:39; 2 Cor. 13:13; 2 Thess. 3:5). The remaining four instances are in the first epistle of the beloved Apostle, John (1 John 2:5, 3:17, 4:9, 5:3).

While the phrase is the same in each occurrence, it can refer to one of two realities, and the meaning can only be determined by the immediate context in which the phrase appears.

First, it can be a reference to what I will call the initiating love of God. That is, the love that God shows to His people. Second, “the love of God” may be a reference to the reciprocal love of God—the love with which the redeemed respond to God.[1]

What I would like to do in this article is briefly consider the former sense of the phrase. Dear Christian, I want to show you how the love you have for God is enabled by, established upon, and constantly sustained in the love He has for you. More specifically, I want to help you understand how the initiating love of God is demonstrated in Christ.

The Initiating Love of God

While the phrase “love of God” does not appear, John 3:16 gives us one of the clearest pictures of the initiating love of God found in the New Testament.

After explaining the necessity of the “birth from above” and drawing an analogy between His crucifixion and the lifting up of the bronze serpent in the wilderness, Jesus explains to Nicodemus the initiating love of God.

Many English translations render the Greek adverb houtos as “so”—which is an acceptable translation of the word. However, modern readers can easily misunderstand the force of the word. Typically, when we read the verse: “God so loved the world…” we tend to think of Jesus as describing the greatness or magnitude of God’s love. Some preachers have even gone so far as to paraphrase John 3:16: “For God loved the world so much…”

While it is undoubtedly true that God does have a great love for the world, that is not the point of what Jesus says to Nicodemus. To better capture the main idea, the adverb houtos should be translated “in this way.” The translators of the CSB have decided to go this route and as such, John 3:16 reads: “For God loved the world in this way…”

Do you see the difference a phrase makes? While it is true God does love the world with a great, unfathomable love, the point Jesus is making is not so much about the magnitude of His love (although that concept is clearly present) but about the way in which He shows this love to us. It is hard to improve upon the way the Apostle Paul articulated this point in Romans 5:8–9: “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.”

It is in the giving of His Son to suffer in the place of sinners that God has shown His love to us. Has there ever been One so dear to the heart of God the Father as His only begotten Son? Have any ever enjoyed such love and fellowship as that which has been eternally enjoyed between the members of the Godhead? And yet, God the Father freely sent His own Son into the world in the likeness of sinful flesh to suffer and die for the sins of His own enemies so that they might live. Can we truly comprehend this love? “If God is for us,” the Apostle asks, “who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:31).

John Flavel has expressed this point so wonderfully:

O what a fair One! What an only One! What an excellent, lovely, ravishing One, is Christ! Put the beauty of ten thousand paradises like the garden of Eden, into one; put all trees, all flowers, all smells, all colors, all tastes, all joys, all sweetness, all loveliness in one; O what a fair and excellent thing would that be? And yet it should be less to that fair and dearest well-beloved Christ, than one drop of rain to the whole seas, rivers, lakes, and fountains of ten thousand earths. Christ is heaven’s wonder, and earth’s wonder.

Now, for God to bestow the mercy of mercies, the most precious thing in heaven or earth, upon poor sinners; and, as great, as lovely, as excellent as his Son was, yet not to account him too good to bestow upon us, what manner of love is this![2]

Look to Christ and Rest in God’s Love

Do you find yourself consistently in doubt? Are you unsure if God looks upon you with affection or wrath? Look to the cross! God has shown you the love he has for you if you will just look with the eyes of faith to the God-man hanging upon the tree at Calvary and consider what great love God has for your soul in the giving of His Son.

It is true that the love of God has been shown to us in the giving of temporal blessings; He graciously provides for our every need. However, the love of God has been shown to us preeminently in Christ. There will be seasons of suffering and want in this life in which we may be tempted to doubt God’s love for us. There is no surer anchor for the soul than the initiating love of God shown to us in the person and work of Jesus Christ.


[1] The grammatical language used to identify these usages is that of subjective (i.e., the initiating love of God) and objective (i.e., the reciprocal love of God) genitives. By subjective genitive, grammarians do not mean love that is based on personal experience (the way “subjective” is often understood) but that the genitive noun is the agent performing the action. Similarly, in an objective genitive construction, the genitive noun is the one receiving the action of the head noun.

[2] John Flavel, The Works of John Flavel, 6 vols. (London: Banner of Truth Trust, 1968), 1:68 (emphasis added).



Failure to Act vs. Failure of Action in Pastoral Ministry

“She’s catatonic. I’m heartbroken,” he told me at the gym. “She’s only 26! My youngest daughter. She had her whole life ahead of her. Chances for anything close to a full recovery are incredibly low.”

“Goodness, brother, what happened?” I responded.

“She was severely fatigued. She went to the ER. Sodium was low. The doctor restored her sodium levels far too quickly, and it shrunk her brain. It’s called Osmotic Demyelination Syndrome.”

Tragedy is horrible. Preventable tragedy is worse. Tragedy that ensues from another’s folly is worst, understandable, and angering. In medicine, iatrogenics (from two Greek words, iatros: healer, genesis: origin) is the field of study that looks to make sense of illness caused by medical intervention. According to a 2016 Johns Hopkins study, medical error (iatrogenic death) is the third leading cause of death in the U.S., behind only heart disease and cancer.[1]

Now, don’t get me wrong, I think the medical community saves more lives than it takes, and it’s not even close. Nonetheless, we’d be foolish not to soberly look at the realities of when the Hippocratic Oath of “do no harm” is violated either because of neglect or folly. Undiagnosed, late-diagnosed,  or untreated but treatable conditions certainly are associated with fatalities. But how many are harmed by failure to act compared to failure of action?

As pastors, I want us to map similar evaluative measures onto our work. In a world where “church hurt” is cited so often as a cause of deconstruction or unbelief, we need to be clear-headed in recognizing not merely where we’ve failed to act, but also where we’ve failed in action.

Failure to Act

The Apostle Paul does not envision pastors as being in a conflict-avoidant role:

  • 1 Thessalonians 5:14: “And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle …”
  • Acts 20:28–31: “Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to care for the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood. I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them. Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish everyone…”
  • 2 Timothy 4:2: “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort…”

Those pastors with a proclivity toward passivity or people-pleasing, walking in fear of man or motivated by sloth or phony peacekeeping ought to feel cut to the heart by those passages. I know I do. There are dozens of other passages like them.

In medical terms, how trustworthy would a doctor be who withholds bad news—whose goal in meeting with a patient is their short-term emotional wellness over and against their long-term flourishing? He’s “doing harm” by virtue of avoiding words that would be harmful! The capacity to diagnose accurately is why he went to medical school, but without his willingness to communicate that diagnosis, he’s useless. Nowhere do I see Paul giving license to pastors to passively “let things play out.”

Some of the best surgeons in the world have poor bedside manner—but they still save lives. That option isn’t so much on the table for pastors, however.

Failure of Action

Where many pastors fail is not in failing to act, but in failing in their action. I cut off the ending of those verses above—look with me at how those passages above resolve:

  • 1 Thessalonians 5:14: “And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all.
  • Acts 20:28–31: “Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to care for the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood. I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them. Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish everyone with tears.”
  • 2 Timothy 4:2: “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.”

Help the weak… with tears… with complete patience. Some pastors are wired for conflict. Like a carpenter with a hammer, they know how to swing at a nail. Poor “bedside manner” is not merely a matter of tact and strategy; it’s a matter of fidelity.

We don’t rebuke the weak; we help them. When we’re admonishing the wayward, we ought to have tears in our eyes. Patience, I think, is rightly and best understood as long-suffering. To suffer long with a congregant, to weep over their folly and rebellion, is painful and taxing. In a role where we’re often already drained, choosing the way that is more draining can feel like poor stewardship of our energy and time. Not to Paul. It is the right mode of engagement. Far easier said than done.

We ought not let the ends justify the means. “They’re going to leave anyway, so I might as well not waste my emotional energy loving them.” Or, “They’re not going to see what I see, so spending a whole lot of time on this isn’t good bang for my buck.” From a worldly “return on investment” perspective, this is true. When you’re trying to grow a healthy church, it certainly seems like hard-heartedness towards the wandering in favor of pouring more gas where the fire is already burning makes sense. But when we make that calculation, we’re choosing “fruitful” over “faithful,” and ultimately, we won’t get either.

From an iatrogenic perspective, this is where most of the church hurt I’ve caused has come from. I’ve not emotionally gone the way of Jesus and Paul, admonishing with tears, but I’ve gone the way of non-profit business management, and, like an award-winning surgeon, justified poor bedside manner in the name of stewardship and efficiency.

The Pain Calculation

I do believe a large amount of what has been called “church hurt” comes from faithful pastors acting faithfully in accordance with their call. Those who desire to sin or persist in unsound doctrine will feel judged and misunderstood and will correspondingly say “the church hurt me.” This is inevitable and unavoidable in our cultural moment that celebrates and incentivizes victimhood.

At the same time, there is church hurt that stems from failure to act and from failure of action. Not rebuking sin harms the body. Rebuking sin without complete patience and tears harms the body. Running post-mortem iatrogenic analysis on pastoral failures of every kind should be something we regularly engage in. We have nothing to prove to Jesus, but we do desire to grow as effective, Christlike, and courageous shepherds of the household of God. Perhaps we may win some we would have otherwise lost.


[1] Martin A. Makary and Michael Daniel, “Medical Error: The Third Leading Cause of Death in the US,” BMJ 353 (2016): i2139, https://doi.org/10.1136/bmj.i2139.



How Do You Know Repentance is Real?

They’ve apologized and said they won’t do it again? Doesn’t grace require we just accept that and move on? Well, maybe. But maybe repentance is a little deeper than just saying “sorry.” In this episode, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about the signs of genuine repentance — how to genuinely by grace turn from sin to Jesus. And what that looks like, even practically.



All Our Boast Is in Jesus

All of us have an issue with boasting. We do it every day—in our heads, in our hearts, and with our mouths. We too often boast in ourselves and in our gifts. Sadly, this disorder has often plagued God’s people.

When Jeremiah prophesied, the average Jew was convinced that Jerusalem was untouchable, and, by implication, so were they. Although they had watched the northern tribes be taken into exile because of their sin, they were convinced that it would not be so with the southern tribes, for they dwelled in YHWH’s chosen city. The Jews in Jerusalem boasted in their presumed safety and so lived lax lives riddled with sin.

The book of Jeremiah responds to such a situation. It is therefore unsurprisingly a book of judgment, calling the Jews in Jerusalem to wake up to their arrogance and hypocrisy. But this book of judgment is laced with hope. Both challenge and comfort are present in Jeremiah 9:23–24:

Thus says the LORD: “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the LORD who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the LORD.”

The Problem of Misplaced Boasting

Observe three things.

First, the LORD does not dispute that there are, in fact, wise, strong, and wealthy people. Some people are wise. Some people are strong. Some people are wealthy. Everyone is endowed with abilities and resources, whether through common grace or the Spirit’s gifting. This is important to register. God gifts us in different ways. Wisdom, strength, and wealth (among others) are gifts God grants. We must acknowledge this, because to ignore it is to misunderstand the weight of what God says here.

Second, the warning of the LORD is not that people do not possess gifts, but that people so gifted should not boast in their gifts. We are to resist the temptation to boast in our gifts, as they are, after all, gifts given by God. The Hebrew term translated boast is the same term translated praise elsewhere, particularly throughout the Psalms. This offers a vivid image of what boasting is: singing your own praise.

Imagine gathering with the church on Sunday and singing with great gusto:

In Me alone my hope is found,
I am my light, my strength, my song

Our trust and boast should not be placed in ourselves or our gifts.

Third, boasting itself is not forbidden completely. But the object of our boasting is vitally important. The LORD invites us to boast in one key thing. Rather, one key person. Our boast should be that we know and understand God.

This is not a mere intellectual reality. This is a relational reality—it includes intellect, but also volition and emotion. Our boast is in knowing and understanding our God because of who he is. He is steadfast in his love, just, and righteous. Real wisdom, strength, and wealth are found in God. Knowing and understanding God is truly wise, formatively strengthening, and enormously wealthy.

What Is Your Boast?

What does this mean for us today? Well, it provokes a deeply penetrating question—what’s our boast? What’s your boast?

Do we boast in our wisdom, strength, and wealth? Do we boast in our academics, our ministry positions, and our bank balances? Do we boast in our experience, our authority, and our relational capital? Do we boast in any of the variety of gifts that God has given to us?

Such boasting is foolishness!

What we should and must boast in is that we know and understand God—that we’ve been delivered from darkness, redeemed from ruin, saved and sanctified. All our boast is in Jesus! Every gift, talent, and skill that the LORD has granted us must be utilized for boasting in our gracious God and Savior.

Paul evidently leans on these verses from Jeremiah as he writes to the church in Corinth:

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” (1 Cor. 1:26–31)

D. A. Carson applies Paul’s words in this way: “Modern Western evangelicalism is deeply infected with the virus of triumphalism, and the resulting illness destroys humility, minimizes grace, and offers far too much homage to the money and influence and ‘wisdom’ of our day.”[1]

This is a devastatingly accurate summary of what we consistently witness transpiring in Christian celebrity culture. But it is also a devastatingly accurate summary of what transpires in my heart, and I presume yours too. What’s the issue? Our boast is in our gifts, not in the giver.

The gospel is the remedy to our twisted hearts, for through it we know our Lord. Sin is forgiven; new life is born. Through the gospel, Jesus becomes our brother, the new creation our home, and perfect righteousness our destiny.

The salvation we’ve experienced can be the joyous experience of others—if only we boast in the Lord and not in ourselves. If only all our boast is in Jesus.

[1] D.A. Carson, The Cross and Christian Ministry, p. 29



The Four Senses Train Christians to Read with Four Questions

Have you ever heard a sermon that explained what a biblical text meant in its original context, showed how it pointed to Christ, challenged you to live differently, and encouraged you with the hope of heaven? If so, you’ve encountered something remarkably similar to how Christians read the Bible for centuries.

Though the medieval four senses of Scripture are often viewed with suspicion or scorn, they essentially tell readers to ask four questions of every text. I think these are helpful questions and can be employed to help train people to read the Scriptures in all their fullness.

Before I enumerate these questions, let me describe the four senses. The four senses historically have been described as the literal (historical or grammatical), allegorical (Christological), tropological (moral), and anagogical (futuristic).

  • The literal sense refers to the most natural sense of the words in their grammatical and historical context which will be discovered by sound exegesis.
  • The allegorical sense refers to symbolic readings with Christ and the church in view.
  • The tropological sense is another spiritual sense but narrows the focus to the formation of the church and persons in the church.
  • The final spiritual sense is the anagogical sense. This pertains to what is to come, what we are hoping for, and our ascent to God.

The Four Questions

Some might think it is better not to use these terms, especially since allegory is viewed with such negativity in the modern era. If we can get past the difficult language, one of the strengths of the four senses is the simple and intuitive nature of it. Many Christians naturally read the Scriptures in this way, even if they get things out of order. The quadriga essentially teaches readers to ask four questions of the text:

  • What does the text mean in its original setting?
  • How does the text point us to Christ and the church?
  • How does the text form us as a people and give us instructions for how to live?
  • How does the text point us to our glorious future and Christ’s return?

The Four Questions Expanded

The first question is concerned with authorial intent, genre, grammar, history, and the literary flow of the passage. It seeks to bridge the divide between modern culture and the biblical text. Readers should be aware that biblical books come from an ancient author and are written to a particular audience about specific issues.

The second question broadens the scope and asks larger questions about the storyline of the Scriptures and how it culminates in Christ and His church. There are multiple ways to think of how the story progresses, but one helpful way to think of the story is through two simple statements. The narrative structure of the Bible proceeds through covenants and the thematic structure revolves around the idea of Kingdom. Each text has some connection to this reality, and readers should look not only at the individual passage but also at the larger salvation-historical context.

The third question is one many Christian readers begin with, but it should only be asked after the first two have been examined. Readers can and should ask what the text means for them as the Scriptures are a divine word addressed to them. However, they should only ask this question once they have discerned what it meant in its original context and how the gospel informs our understanding. Then one can ask how it forms us individually and as a community.

The final question is one that many Christians forget to ask. The biblical storyline doesn’t simply culminate in Christ’s first coming, but the story will come to completion at His second coming. Therefore, readers should ask how the text points to them to the hope of Christ’s second coming. Reading with the larger biblical storyline includes reading with the word “Maranatha” always on our lips.

Reading in Community

These four simple questions can be employed by any Christian. They are easy to remember, and they keep us grounded in the original meaning without forgetting the larger storyline. Sometimes people wonder what guardrails we have for these questions so people don’t misinterpret Scripture. This is a good question, and this article doesn’t have time to address all the guardrails we should employ. However, one can be mentioned here, and it is the best one: the church. If we read with others, they can help us see where we might be misunderstanding the text. Many think of reading the Scripture only in individualistic terms, but reading is a communal event.



Your Small Group Leaders Need More Than Training

He had completed every module. He had read the book we gave him. He had shadowed a veteran leader for a full semester and sat through our orientation weekend. On paper, he was the most prepared small group leader we had ever launched. Six weeks in, he called me and said, “I don’t think I can do this.”

Nothing had gone wrong, exactly. Nobody in his group had dropped out. There was no conflict or crisis. But something had shifted the moment he became responsible for other people’s spiritual growth, and no amount of training had prepared him for what that felt like. He was not struggling with the curriculum. He was struggling with the weight.

I have seen this pattern more times than I can count. A church invests heavily in training its small group leaders—and training matters. But training answers the question, “What do I do?” The question that keeps a leader up at night is different: “Who am I to be doing this?” And if nobody walks with them through that question, the church will keep losing leaders it spent months and years preparing.

The Gap Between Trained and Ready

Most churches have a training process for small group leaders. It might be a class, a handbook, a mentorship semester, or an orientation meeting. These are good things. Leaders need to understand the vision, know the logistics, and feel equipped to facilitate a conversation. Paul told Timothy to entrust what he had learned to “faithful men, who will be able to teach others also” (2 Tim. 2:2). There is a passing down that has to happen.

But there is a difference between passing down information and walking with a person through formation. Training equips someone to lead a meeting. Discipleship equips someone to shepherd a room full of people who are grieving, doubting, hiding, and hoping—sometimes all in the same evening.

When a small group leader sits across from someone who has just confessed an addiction, or when the room goes silent after a question nobody wants to answer, the leader does not reach for a training manual. They reach for whatever has been built into them. And if what has been built into them is only curriculum knowledge and logistical confidence, they will feel the gap immediately.

What It Looks Like to Disciple the People Who Lead

Discipling your small group leaders means staying close enough to see what is actually happening in them—not just in their groups. It means asking questions that go deeper than “How is your group going?” and listening for what they are not saying.

The leader who tells you everything is fine but has stopped inviting new people is often afraid of something they cannot name. The leader who over-prepares every week may not trust that the Spirit is sufficient if their outline falls apart. The leader who avoids conflict in their group is sometimes avoiding something unresolved in their own heart. These are not performance problems. They are discipleship opportunities.

Jesus did not hand the Twelve a facilitator’s guide and send them out. He lived with them. He let them watch him pray, grieve, confront, and rest. He asked them hard questions—“Who do you say that I am?” (Matt. 16:15)—not to test their knowledge, but to surface what they actually believed. And when Peter sank in the water, Jesus did not say, “We covered this in training.” He reached out his hand (Matt. 14:31).

That is the model. Not a program that produces leaders, but a relationship that forms them.

Four Marks of a Church That Disciples Its Leaders

First, the pastor or discipleship coordinator stays in regular, unhurried conversation with every small group leader. Not a monthly check-in email. Not a quarterly leaders’ meeting with bagels and announcements. Real conversation where the leader has space to say, “I do not know if I am doing this well,” and hear something more than, “You are doing great.”

Second, the church creates an environment where leaders can honestly acknowledge their fears and struggles without shame. Most new small group leaders are quietly terrified that they will say the wrong thing, miss someone who is hurting, or be exposed as not knowing enough. If nobody tells them that many faithful leaders have wrestled with those same fears, they will assume it means they are not called. It does not. It means they are taking the work seriously.

Third, leaders are given permission to be in process. A church that only celebrates polished, confident leadership will produce leaders who perform instead of shepherd. Paul did not hide his weakness from the churches he served. He told the Corinthians, “I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling” (1 Cor. 2:3). If the Apostle Paul needed the freedom to lead from weakness, so do the people facilitating your Tuesday night small group.

Fourth, the church teaches its leaders to depend on Christ rather than on their own competence. This is the heart of the matter. Training builds competence, and competence is good. But competence without dependence produces leaders who rely on their preparation instead of the Spirit. The goal is not a leader who has all the answers. The goal is a leader who knows where to go when they do not—and who has been discipled to go there instinctively.

The Leader Nobody Trained For

That leader who called me six weeks in did not quit. But he did not stay because I gave him better material or walked him through another training module. He stayed because someone sat with him in his uncertainty and reminded him that the Christ who called him into that living room on a Wednesday night had not left the room.

His confidence did not come from finally mastering the content. It came from learning—slowly, in real time, through real conversations—that faithfulness in this work is not about having it together. It is about pointing people to the One who does.

If your church is investing in training small group leaders, that is good and right. Keep doing it. But if the training ends when the group launches, you are sending people into one of the most spiritually demanding roles in your church with tools but without a shepherd. They need someone walking with them. Not just before they start. After. During. In the middle of the mess.

That is not a program. That is discipleship. And it is the difference between a church that launches leaders and a church that keeps them.