Pastor, You Need to Preach About Marital Intimacy

By / Mar 16

The Apostle Paul is a valuable model for pastors in so many ways, including the way that he boldly waded into controversial and touchy topics. Evaluating his ministry in Ephesus, he said, “I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27).

We can see this kind of boldness on full display in his first letter to the Corinthians, where Paul publicly rebuked the church for their tolerance of “a man… sleeping with his father’s wife” (1 Cor. 5:1). Paul knew that this kind of flagrant sexual immorality must not be tolerated in the church, so he pressed past any awkwardness he may have felt while writing about sex. He had to call the church to holiness.

Unfortunately, many pastors today feel uncomfortable preaching about sex from the pulpit. We often hide behind pseudo-modesty, unwilling to shepherd this area of their lives while our churches have “sexual immorality among [them]” (1 Cor. 5:1).

I’m not saying that pastors should have a lustful urge to preach graphic, nearly-pornographic sermons, but I am saying that we need to stop shrinking back from declaring the whole counsel of God.

The task couldn’t be more urgent:

  • More than half of practicing Christians use porn regularly.[1] In your church on any given Sunday, half of the men and women present have likely sought out pornography.
  • More than half of Christian marriages have one-sided sex. One survey of 22,000 Christian marriages found that while 95% of husbands say they reached a climax in most sexual encounters with their wives, only 48% of women said they reached a climax most of the time. In other words, in a majority of Christian marriages, husbands aren’t serving their wives in bed.[2]

In a world as sexually confused as ours, we can’t leave our people like sheep without a shepherd. We need to speak up.

Here are five guidelines to consider how to address sex from the pulpit.

1. Preach Biblically About Sex

The Bible talks about sex. A lot.

From Adam and Eve’s “naked and unashamed” life in the Garden, the exhortations to become so intoxicated with your wife that you end up “lost in her love forever” (Prov. 5:19), Paul’s candor about sex and sexual sin mentioned above, and so many other examples—the Bible doesn’t shy away from speaking about sex.

You don’t need to force the topic of sex into a Scripture passage where it isn’t, but you do need to be ready when sex comes up to address it in an intentional way.

2. Preach Soberly About Sex

Sexual sin is deadly. The Bible doesn’t hold back and we shouldn’t either. The sexually immoral will not inherit the kingdom of God (1 Cor. 6:9–10).

This needs to be said. But if you stop here, you haven’t preached the whole counsel of God.

3. Preach Joyfully About Sex

The people in your church—married or not—should know that sex is a wonderful gift of God.

The Bible makes clear that sex is meant to be pleasurable. While Scripture clearly presents procreation as a central purpose of sex, it also devotes significant attention to sexual pleasure and mutual delight within marriage. Our preaching should reflect that reality too. When preaching about sexual sin, don’t just warn about the consequences of the counterfeit. Invite your church to the joys of the real deal.

However, sex is wonderful, not just because of this physical pleasure it can bring, but because it reflects profound spiritual realities about marriage. In the vulnerabilities of sex, we have an opportunity to serve one another with an intimacy not available in any other sphere of life.

The unmarried in your church need to hear this. Teach so that young people in your church one day enter marriage (if the Lord wills) with a holy excitement about sex, not lustful craving or legalistic trembling.

This is equally important for the married people in your church to hear. It’s easy for spouses to become roommates without regular, intentional effort. Set a beautiful vision of marriage before your church to give every couple something to aspire to in their own homes.

4. Preach Mutually About Sex

Remember the above statistic about half of Christian marriages having one-sided sex? That’s not going to fix itself. The sheep aren’t going to get out of the valley of the shadow of death without a shepherd. This issue is too deeply entrenched in the church and reinforced by the culture.

The men in your church need to be clearly called to serve their wives in bed. This should be included in the application any time that we call husbands to “man up” at home (because, statistically, most of them are failing in this area). This should be a topic of men’s retreats and marriage seminars. This should be called out from the pulpit with the same clarity that Paul called out the Corinthian man who was sleeping with his father’s wife.

Husbands need to be told that sex should be wonderful and pleasurable for their wives.

Husbands need to be told that the cultural lies about men having a “higher sex drive” than women are myths.

Husbands need to be told that their selfishness in bed is sinful and they need to cultivate real, honest conversation about sex with their wives.

5. Preach Carefully About Sex

We preach to sexual sinners, but we also preach to sexual sufferers. Sexual abuse has, almost certainly, wreaked havoc on the lives of men and women in your church. When we preach about sex, we’re entering a vulnerable space, so we must proceed with caution.

Make a plan with your elders about how to speak carefully about sex from the pulpit. What words are acceptable and what aren’t? For example, should we say “orgasm,” stick to the more generic, “climax,” or should we avoid both of these words altogether? Would the church be comfortable with “sex,” or is the vaguer “marriage bed” to be preferred?

If you think you may feel uncomfortable preaching about sex, send a draft to godly men and women in your congregation and ask for feedback ahead of time. Their careful eyes can’t control what you preach, but they can give you helpful feedback about how something might be perceived. Again, this is a vulnerable area to discuss, so we need to proceed with caution.

Talking about sex is hard. It has been ever since the fall, when Adam and Eve realized they were naked and covered themselves up. But Jesus restores the broken things. He is a redeemer and we look forward to the day when he makes all things new.

Author’s Note: If talking about sex seems overwhelming, I wrote a book to help. Sex and Self-Forgetfulness is a 30-day devotional for married couples. It unpacks God’s design for pure, pleasurable, unifying sex and helps couples live that design out by having honest, careful conversations with one another. I hope this is a resource that can equip you to preach and counsel with confidence. I also hope it’s a book you can put in the hands of people in your church.

[1] https://www.barna.com/trends/over-half-of-practicing-christians-admit-they-use-pornography/

[2] https://greatsexrescue.com/gsr-survey/



Women’s Ministry: Healing the Ways Women Hurt Each Other

By / Mar 12

The Power and Pitfalls of Women’s Groups

There’s something about groups of women that can be incredibly empowering, but on the other side, deeply destructive. I’ve experienced both. Some groups are healthy and life-giving; others are toxic and draining. And for women, I think this issue begins young. The stereotype of the “mean girl” didn’t appear out of nowhere—cultural pressures and psychological factors shape how girls, and later women, relate to one another. Exploring all of that would take a collaborative effort far bigger than one woman can unpack alone.

What I do know is this: women can be unbelievably nurturing, but we can also be competitive, insecure, and judgmental. Women’s church groups aren’t magically exempt from that—we’re human, after all. Being Christians doesn’t erase the cultural patterns that shaped us; it simply exposes how deeply those patterns run. So here’s the real question: can we step outside what has formed us culturally and intentionally step into what Christ offers? Not by “trying harder” or checking off a spiritual to-do list, but by living from a new identity, not just performing new behaviors.

I’ve spent time in many different groups—some filled with mean girls, others genuinely loving. Even in the loving ones, judgment can be silent, but still present. How can we be truly loving and not unhealthy? Like many things I read, I ask: what does that actually look like in real life? Strangely, my first exploration of this didn’t come from a Christian book or Bible study, but from a very secular context. Maybe that’s not surprising—God undergirds the systems of life and extends common grace to all people.

This thought process began when we lived abroad. My husband speaks and teaches German, so experiencing different cultures became normal for us—beautiful at times, hard at times, always stretching. Here’s what I noticed: When I spent time with people from different cultures and languages, I felt more comfortable. Even if I was quiet or reserved, I didn’t feel the judgment I might normally feel in my circles at home. I chalked it up to the lack of cultural standards—there was nothing to compare against. We met each other purely as people. All the unspoken rules, silent hierarchies, and subtle judgments dissolved. Even if judgment existed, it didn’t land. I couldn’t take it seriously because there was no standard by which to measure me.

Years later, I began to see these experiences through a biblical lens. As people poured the gospel into me through action, I wrestled with a practical question: where can we help women? Can we take our God-given capacity to nurture and actually extend it to one another, instead of tearing each other down?

The Paradox of Community and Distinctiveness

I’ve heard it repeatedly: women should build each other up; we should be each other’s biggest cheerleaders. And while I agree, I often ask, how? What does that actually look like? We say it, but nothing seems to change. We claim to build each other up, yet behind the scenes, we still tear each other down, creating the illusion of growth without real transformation. Outward behavior may shift, but the underlying instinct is muffled, not transformed.

God created us for community, to feel loved, seen, and valued. He has written that longing on our hearts. Ecclesiastes 4:9–10 says, “Two are better than one … if either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” Yet in our human way, we mismanage this longing. One common misstep is believing that acceptance requires us to emulate the people in the group we want to belong to. That inevitably leads to comparison—and we all know what comparison does: it steals joy and fosters unhealthy competition. 2 Corinthians 10:12 warns, “Not that we dare to classify or compare ourselves with some of those who are commending themselves. But when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding.”

On the other hand, if we refuse comparison entirely and focus only on celebrating our differences, we risk isolation. To emphasize uniqueness, we must set ourselves apart, becoming “different, but alone.” Scripture warns against this as well: God created us for community, not solitude (Gen. 2:18).

Here lies the paradox: we’re called to live in community, yet we’re built to be different from each other. In such paradoxes, I find Jesus waiting, ready to reveal purpose. The gospel reconciles what seems irreconcilable. So how does this look in women’s ministry? How can we be part of a community while recognizing our differences?

Transformation Through Christ

The solution is not outward conformity but inward transformation. We must surrender the part of us that strives to emulate and invite Christ to take up residence within. Only then can we live in community freely, celebrating differences not as threats or trophies, but as reflections of the life He pours into each of us. Galatians 2:20 says it well: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.”

My cultural experience abroad mirrored this truth in a small way. We were living life, but it was as if all the unspoken rules, silent hierarchies, and subtle judgments had dissolved. When I realize Christ lives in me, there is nothing left to judge. Every talent, every skill, every insight is given by Him. How, then, could I compare myself or judge others? United in Christ, it becomes clearer how to love one another. Even between believers and unbelievers, we are all image-bearers of God.

As women, we can come together in our differences and participate in community if our inward life reflects Christ—not just in actions, but in identity. The gospel shapes who we are. Are we boasting in gifts and talents that foster comparison, or in who Christ is in us, allowing Him to shape our true identity?

My experience of different cultures coming together, where judgment seemed to dissolve, felt like a signpost from God. But this glimpse is incomplete without the full gospel. Cultural differences may remove some standards we use to judge one another and temporarily reduce comparison, but the gospel goes deeper. Through Christ’s blood, we are united in an eternal bond, empowered not only to live without judgment but to love one another with His love. As Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35).

There’s a larger cultural shift to be explored, and I pray for the days of the “mean girl” to be behind us. Yet even in the brokenness of this world, we can trust a God who reveals His sufficiency.



When to Leave a Church

By / Mar 11

In an age of increasing church consumerism and church division, Christians sometimes leave churches for less than honorable reasons. But what are the honorable ones? In this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about the why’s and how’s of leaving a local church.



The Compassion of a Shepherd

By / Mar 10

When is your compassion tested most in ministry? Recently, after a long and somewhat discouraging Sunday, I was finally sitting on the couch ready to relax. Then my cellphone rang. It was one of my church members—a kind lady, usually encouraging and full of positive words. But we’ve all had “those days.”

“Those” are the days in which our compassion is tested the most. Those are the days we realize just how different we are from the Chief Shepherd. I trust you have had a day like mine. I trust you have had a reaction like mine. We might summarize it this way: I was not compassionate toward my member. As I continued preaching through the gospel of Matthew, I learned a few lessons on compassion from the Chief Shepherd.

Compassion with the Masses

Jesus had hard days of ministry. With the crowds, we see just how different and sinless our Lord is. He models the perfect compassion of a shepherd. Matthew 9:36 says, “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (emphasis added).

Jesus had compassion on them, and yet I have no doubt this crowd had a lot of baggage. Many came to Him not knowing who He was. I venture to guess that the majority of this crowd did not have their theological ducks in a row. They probably asked Jesus, from time to time, to cut the Sermon on the Mount down by a few minutes.

Yet Jesus had compassion on them. He didn’t deride them. He wasn’t frustrated by them. Pastors, we would do well to learn from Jesus’ example with the crowds. He had compassion on the masses during the hard days—despite their peculiarities—and desired to shepherd them.

Compassion After a Long Day

If anyone knew about long, taxing days of ministry, it was Jesus. In Matthew 14, after hearing of John the Baptist’s death, Jesus withdrew from Nazareth to a desolate place. Matthew 14:13–14 says: “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Emphasis added).

Jesus wanted a moment to retreat and pray—to rest and commune with His Father. But the crowds didn’t take the hint. And yet, when He saw them, He had compassion and healed their sick.

Here I see my own shortcoming. After all of the Lord’s Day events, I am tired. Yet even on my busiest Sundays, I haven’t experienced half of what Jesus did. That phone call I received doesn’t compare to a massive crowd following Him to a place of retreat. I didn’t have compassion on my church member that day. But Jesus has compassion upon compassion. Our own compassion after long days of ministry can learn much from His example. When we want to quit or when our patience runs thin, we should look to the Chief Shepherd.

Compassion for the Embodied

We are tired, weak, and worn out after long days of ministry. We pastors feel the weight of being embodied souls in time, space, and fallen bodies. But we often forget that we share this reality with our people.

Jesus had compassion on the crowds in Matthew 15:22 for this very reason: “Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I have compassion on the crowd because they have been with me now three days and have nothing to eat. And I am unwilling to send them away hungry, lest they faint on the way’” (Emphasis added).

Jesus tells the disciples that He has compassion because they are hungry—it’s been three days! Our typical Sunday morning may only be a few hours, yet even our harshest critics would have to admit the crowds’ needs were far greater. Our people are tired, hungry, and ready to rest. We should not forget that we are tired come Sunday afternoon, and so are they. The sheep get tired and may act grumpy. We can bear with them patiently, remembering that our embodied souls need care just as theirs do.

The Good, Compassionate Shepherd

Brothers, we are not as compassionate as our Lord. If our people’s righteousness depended on our perfect compassion, we would all be in trouble. But we have the gospel of Christ’s righteousness.

We have a perfectly compassionate Lord. The Good Shepherd teaches under-shepherds how to care for wounded sheep, stubborn sheep, needy sheep, and wandering sheep. May He help us to be so compassionate.



The Christian Hope in Mourning

By / Mar 5

During the Covid-19 pandemic, the practice of delaying funerals became routine. Often postponed out of necessity, delayed funerals complicated the mourning process and created difficult conversations resurfacing months later. Indeed, by mid-2021, articles began appearing in major publications contemplating the awkwardness and grief attending the phenomenon of delayed funerals. A palpable sense was afoot that something deep and meaningful had been lost.

Yet in the wake of Covid, many pastors have anecdotally noticed an increase in the practice of deferring the funeral altogether. Some attribute this trend to factors such as the rise of cremation, while others point to cultural shifts that downplay social connection and acknowledge that the “beliefs and values of the organizers” often do not align with the ethos of traditional funeral services.

From the other side of the pulpit, I can relate. It is not uncommon for me to perform a Christian funeral that would have made sense to the deceased, but which feels quite alien to many of those in attendance. We can expect this dynamic in a quickly secularizing culture, but it remains true that many who find themselves in charge of a loved one’s arrangements attempt to discharge that duty as theological outsiders. The talk of eternity is unfamiliar. And as for the talk of the exclusivity of Christ, which is subject to contemplation in Bible-believing churches, well, that’s just a bridge too far.

In the midst of all this, committed Christians need to reckon with the reality that, because our churches have long neglected a theology of mourning, we find ourselves prone to rather utilitarian and therapeutic approaches to the funeral. We shirk language of loss in favor of “celebrations of life.” We tend toward eulogies that rely heavily on funny stories and anecdotes and rarely ponder the eternal. These factors, both within the church and without, have conspired to create an environment in which funerals are renamed, recast, or altogether relegated to the past: a vaguely understood tradition that may no longer serve our enlightened needs or dignify our postmodern sensibilities.

These realities communicate to the Christian conscience something more salient than mere statistical patterns or offended sensibilities. In fact, when the formal funeral is neglected, something deeply Christian is obscured. We are, after all, a people with a message of hope beyond the grave. Moreover, we are those encouraged to grieve temporary losses in service to reminding our fickle hearts of the comfort only eternity in Christ brings.

Jesus rather confounds us when He claimed, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4).

Yet I submit that this ethic could be said to comprise a vast portion of the Christian worldview. The Cross and the empty tomb make present mourning and pain bearable. In view of Christ’s victory over death, we of all people should be able to understand a funeral. It is where we go to remember that this world could never deliver on its promises in the first place. It is where we go to make sense of Jesus’ Beatitude of mourning, knowing that those who have thrown out all hope of lasting comfort in this life will be eternally comforted in Jesus in the next.

And lest we think Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount was the only place this theme surfaces, we are reminded of the reflections of Solomon in Ecclesiastes: “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad” (Ecc. 7:2–3).

That’s right: it is better to go to a funeral than to a party. And for Christians seeking to calibrate their consciences aright, we can also say that it is better to have a funeral that mourns than a funeral that ignores life-giving eternal truth.

We live in a culture that seeks to push thoughts of death to the periphery of our consciousness. Whether this is done in service to limiting “negative emotions,” “living one’s best life,” or some other therapeutic justification, the Creator of the universe has built us to utilize mourning for our spiritual good.

Christians: let’s keep the funeral alive. It is not only the occasion during which we can prompt our unbelieving or nominally Christian neighbors to consider again the end toward which we are all walking, but it is also a visceral reminder to our own souls that we will not live forever. A funeral is a sanctifying rehearsal of our own future: one that calls us deeper to Christ and asks us to contemplate what portion of our present way of living will be judged as eternally significant by the only One whose evaluation really matters.



Fasting

By / Mar 4

Most Christians know what it is. Most Christians don’t practice it. What is a biblical fast, and what’s the point of it? On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss the spiritual discipline of fasting.



Peace in a World Full of Conflict

By / Mar 3

The familiar car pulled into the church parking lot. As the driver stepped out, my stomach tightened and my heart raced. This churchgoer had a history of sharp words toward me, and I knew he had been involved in conflicts I’d mediated for others. My mind spiraled: “What is he going to say today? What problems will I have to fix afterward?”

This is the reality of life beyond the confines of the Garden of Eden in which you and I fall prey to the schemes of pot-stirrers.

What is a Pot-Stirrer?

A pot-stirrer is simply someone who causes unrest. Some stir directly, through insults, criticism, or gossip. Others stir indirectly, drawing us into conflicts by complaining about or criticizing others in our hearing. Either way, pot-stirrers drag us into disputes we were never meant to carry.

Instead of cultivating the fruit of the Spirit, such as peace (Gal. 5:22), pot-stirrers often provoke the works of the flesh: enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, and envy (5:20–21).

So how can Christians experience peace in a world full of pot-stirrers?

Psalm 11: A Refuge in the Midst of Conflict

As David penned Psalm 11, he was clearly tempted to be stirred up by others and against others. “The wicked bend the bow,” he wrote (v. 2). “They have fitted their arrow to the string to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart.” Yet as David remembered the One who was in control of everything, he felt peace regarding circumstances beyond his control.

In verse 4, David proclaimed, “The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord’s throne is in heaven; his eyes see, his eyelids test the children of man.” By describing the heavenly throne room, David confessed the Lord’s sovereignty over all human dealings. Nothing takes Him by surprise. Nothing escapes His notice.

Not only is the Lord sovereign, but He is also righteous. Verse 5 says, “His soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence,” with verse 6 describing the consequences for those who act unjustly: fire, sulfur, and a scorching wind. The Lord is not neutral toward those who cause harm, nor will He abandon His people. As verse 7 says, “The upright shall behold his face.”

Psalm 11 is David’s confession that the Lord sees all things, works through all things, and will one day bring justice. When the wicked or unjust attempted to disturb his peace, these truths gave David confidence to take refuge in the Lord rather than fleeing in fear (v. 1).

Stability in a World of Conflict

The Lord does not change (Mal. 3:6). Christians can draw peace from Psalm 11, just as David did. We can remain steady when tensions arise, remembering that God remains on His throne, sees all things, works through all things, and promises to bring justice in His time.

The gospel strengthens this peace. Jesus left heaven’s throne to enter a world full of tension and provocation. The devil tempted Him to doubt the Father (Matt. 4:3, 6). The disciples tried to provoke Him to react against Samaritans (Luke 9:54). The high priest sought to unsettle Him with false accusations (Mark 14:60). Yet Jesus remained confident in the Father, secure in His identity, and faithful to the work to which He had been called.

Jesus’ righteousness covers us, both for when we are tempted to react and for when others create tension around us. His death assures us that those who act unjustly will ultimately face God’s justice (Col. 2:15), and His resurrection gives the Holy Spirit to cultivate peace in our hearts (John 14:26).

The gospel gives us peace in a world where tensions and conflicts are inevitable.

How to Respond to Those Who Cause Conflict

When others try to involve us in disputes, Psalm 11 reminds us that God sees all things and will judge all things. We can embrace God’s sovereignty and pray for His will to be done, trusting that we are not responsible for resolving every conflict ourselves. We can be concerned. We can pray. But in most cases, we don’t have to carry someone else’s emotional chaos as our own.

When someone challenges or criticizes us directly, we can follow David’s example and take refuge in the Lord. If their words are true, we can respond in repentance, knowing that Christ has already paid the penalty for our sin. If their words are false, we can trust God to uphold us and vindicate us: “For the Lord is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face” (Ps. 11:7).

In all situations, we can entrust those who cause conflict to God’s judgment. He is not neutral toward wrongdoing, yet He remains stable and faithful.

Guided by Psalm 11, may we live likewise: secure in God’s sovereignty and peace, even in the midst of conflict.



When “Not Enough Faith” Is Still More Than Enough for Jesus

By / Feb 26

“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen” (Eph. 3:20–21).

I was in my early twenties when we buried my aunt. She had been the bright center of our family—the one with the booming laugh and lipstick kisses, the woman who never had daughters but poured every ounce of girl-mom love into her nieces. She taught us how to be sophisticated in a fun yet modest way. She spoiled us rotten.

Then cancer struck—quick and merciless. My faith at that moment felt too weak even to whisper a prayer. Nonetheless, while we declared aloud, “God is going to heal her,” inside, we were terrified. We stuffed the fear so deep it never saw the light of day. We smiled bravely and kept hope alive, as if our positivity could influence God’s hand.

The night she died, the hospital hallway swallowed my mother’s scream. A few days later, her casket disappeared into soft Florida dirt, and something in me snapped shut. I didn’t rage at God; I just quietly concluded that my faith wasn’t strong enough. Our prayers weren’t enough.

I decided some graves stay closed because the people praying over them simply don’t have what it takes.

That day became my pattern. Every later disappointment got the same verdict: buried fast, labeled “I’m not enough,” and guarded by shame.

A dream that died—my fault.

A relationship that ended—my prayers too weak.

A sin I couldn’t shake—proof I’ll never measure up.

I became an expert at sealing tombs and then standing watch so no one, especially Jesus, would come near with any wild talk of resurrection.

We all do this, don’t we? We pronounce things dead, blame our own insufficient faith, and bolt the door.

But Jesus has never once waited for our faith to be big enough before He starts kicking stones away.

Look at Lazarus. Four days dead, body decaying. Martha greets Jesus with the same verdict I carried: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). And when He says, “Roll the stone away,” she objects, “Lord, there will be an odor.” In other words: It’s too late. The faith window closed. Jesus doesn’t lecture her on belief levels. He doesn’t measure the size of anyone’s mustard seed. He simply calls the dead man by name and death is no more.

Or the two disciples on the Emmaus Road, trudging away with hearts in the grave. They confess their disappointment in the past tense: “We had hoped…” (Luke 24:21). Their faith is ashes. The Risen One doesn’t wait for them to muster hope. He walks beside their unbelief, opens Scripture, breaks bread—and suddenly the dead Man is the living Host.

Even Ezekiel in the valley of bones isn’t asked to produce faith first. “Can these bones live?” God asks. Ezekiel’s honest answer is the only one any of us ever has when standing over real graves: “O Lord God, only you know.” To God be the glory, the Spirit breathes life back into those bones anyway. Because the quality of our believing has never powered resurrection; it is powered by the relentless love of the One who believes for us when we cannot.

I finally quit standing guard over my aunt’s grave. That moment was a defining one for our family (and not in a good way). I presented my case: “God, I don’t have enough faith to roll any stone. I still think You said no because we weren’t enough. I’m mad and tired and done pretending. Do whatever You want, but I’m out of hope.” I expected silence. Instead, slowly, gently, and over a long period of time, Jesus met me in my unbelief—not with rebuke, but with Himself.

He is the one who was buried so that no grave, not even the ones we lock with shame and small faith, could ever hold final authority.

So bring Him your grave today, no matter how you feel—faithless, furious, or just numb. You don’t have to feel hopeful. You don’t have to manufacture belief. Just whisper the smallest, most honest version of “Lord God, only You know.”

Tell one safe person who will remind you that resurrection never depended on you in the first place. Then let Ephesians 3:20–21 be the truth that prays for you when you can’t: He is able to do far more than all we ask or even think—especially when we have stopped asking and thinking altogether.

Jesus still crashes funerals. He doesn’t stand outside waiting for us to get our faith act together. He walks straight through the door we bolted and calls our names anyway.

And to Him—the One who refused to stay dead and who refuses to let our weak faith have the final word—be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.



Theological Triage

By / Feb 25

It’s a helpful principle for sorting out unity and debate. But how exactly does theological triage work? In this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss the relative importance of first order, second order, and third order doctrines, and how the application of theological triage can help us with Christian charity and kindness.



Six Gospel Antidotes to Anxiety

By / Feb 24

We live in an anxious world. While these are certainly challenging times, in Christ we do not have to be anxious. We have a Father in heaven who knows us, loves us, and provides for our needs. Our Father is not anxious, and neither must we be. In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gives us six antidotes for the spiritual ailment of anxiety (Matt. 6:25–34).

  1. Repent of the Sin of Anxiety 

Three times in Matthew 6:25–34, Jesus commands us not to be anxious: “Do not be anxious about your life” (v. 25), “Therefore do not be anxious” (v. 31), and “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow” (v. 34). Anxiety has become an accepted sin in our day. It is often treated as a purely physical condition rather than a spiritual issue. But humans are a composite of body and soul. Our physical bodies affect our spiritual well-being, and our spiritual well-being affects our bodies. Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is eat, drink, rest, or sleep (see 1 Kgs. 19:4–8). Alongside these practical steps, we are called to trust God and turn from the worry that displaces faith in Him.

  1. Rely on God’s Loving Provision 

In verse 25, Jesus asks, “Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” He argues from the greater to the lesser: if God has given you life and a body (the greater), He is certainly capable of providing food and clothing (the lesser).

In verse 26, He points to nature: “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” Birds wake up each day with enough to eat. If God cares for the birds (the lesser), He will certainly care for us (the greater).

In verses 28–30, Jesus gives a second illustration about clothing: “Consider the lilies of the field… even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field… will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?” If God adorns the grass and flowers with beauty (the lesser), He will surely clothe us (the greater).

  1. Realize Anxiety’s Ineffectiveness 

In verse 27, Jesus asks, “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” The answer is obvious: nobody. Anxiety accomplishes nothing; in fact, it is counterproductive. Psalm 139:16 reminds us, “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” The Lord has sovereignly ordained the number of our days before we were even born. Worrying about our life will not extend it beyond the days that God has given us.

  1. Remember God’s Omniscience

In verses 31–32, Jesus says, “Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ Or ‘What shall we drink?’ Or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.” God knows and provides for our needs. While we may think we understand what we need, He sees the full picture far better than we ever could.

  1. Rank Spiritual Needs Over Physical Needs 

Verses 31–32 show that the Gentiles prioritize food, drink, and clothing. Secular people are often preoccupied with their physical needs at the expense of their spiritual wellbeing. It is no accident that Jesus taught about storing treasure in heaven rather than on earth just before addressing anxiety. The more we accumulate earthly treasures, the more tempted we are to worry about protecting, increasing, and holding onto them. As Jesus said in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”?

But what does Jesus call us to do instead? In verse 33, He says, “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” To seek the kingdom of God is to submit to Christ’s rule and reign in our hearts. It means turning in repentance and faith to King Jesus and pursuing the practical righteousness of God—bringing every aspect of our lives under His will. Seeking the kingdom means prioritizing His rule over building our own, trusting that God will provide for our needs as we faithfully follow Him.

  1. Refocus on the Present 

In verse 34, Jesus says, “Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Here, He highlights that anxiety is often future-focused. Instead of worrying about what is ahead, we are called to focus on the present, because God has given us enough grace for today’s challenges. Just as the Israelites collected manna daily, and as Jesus teaches us in the Lord’s Prayer—“Give us this day our daily bread”—God provides for each day in its time. He desires a daily, trusting relationship with us. We are to live fully in today, not wishing it away for tomorrow, and be content with what the Lord has graciously given.