How Church Structure Fuels Disciple-Making

Polity can play a significant role in disciple making in the local church. Church polity—or simply the way a church is structured—can either hinder or motivate disciple making. Some traditions and denominations have a set structure they follow not only locally but also regionally, statewide, or nationally. In some faith traditions, a general council or presbytery prescribes a local structure for leadership, authority, and decision-making in the church.

However, in my tradition—the Southern Baptist tradition—there is no single prescribed model for church structure. Some churches are led by staff, deacons, committees, leadership teams, councils, influential families, single elders, or a plurality of elders.

I want to highlight several reasons why utilizing a plurality of elders in congregational leadership creates a healthy environment for disciple-making to flourish. While historical and biblical support for plural eldership in SBC churches is available elsewhere, my focus here is practical: how disciple-making and plural eldership naturally support one another.

1. Remind Pastors of Their First Calling

Many pastors remember two callings: their call to come to Christ in salvation and their calling into ministry. For some, these callings happened in a moment. For others, their calling comes over a season. A call to ministry often connects closely with a desire to preach—to share God’s Word in a way they have seen and experienced themselves. They want to share the good news of Jesus with a church, youth group, circle of kids, or anyone who will listen! This desire is good and necessary for ministers in the local church.

But I have often seen pastors let their call to preach supersede their first calling—to intentionally make disciples (Matt. 28:18–20; 2 Tim. 2:2). Preaching serves disciple making, but it alone cannot disciple others deeply. In Matthew 4, Jesus tells His disciples that if they follow Him, they will “fish for men.” Preaching is part of that process, but Jesus’ preparation in Matthew 28 shows that intentional, personal investment is essential.

When a church utilizes a plurality of elders, the pastors understand that more elders will not emerge through preaching alone. They must discern men who might aspire to be an elder, invest in developing them, and deploy them into ministry and leadership in the church. In doing so, pastors are reminded of their calling to fish for men, build relationships, and intentionally invest in others, helping form them into the image of Christ.

2. Develop Pastors and Ministers

Many churches today struggle to find qualified candidates to fill ministry positions. The days of posting a position online and receiving hundreds of resumes are largely gone. Many churches have been looking for pastoral roles to lead their church for quite some time. This will likely continue to be a problem. One solution many churches have utilized is the development of their own staff and pastors from within their own church. Sometimes this is an intentional process where the current pastor or ministry leader has created a development and succession plan. In other situations, the lack of a leader brings forth the emergence of a new leader within the church.

A plurality of elders supports this by creating a continual process of leadership development. Men exposed to the office of elder have a role to aspire to and a framework for growth. As current elders discern who aspires to lead, they can invest time and energy to develop their character and competencies. Over time, some of these men may feel called to vocational ministry.

In this way, a church with a plurality of elders creates a pipeline of leaders—both for its own ministries and potentially for other churches in need of qualified pastors.

3. Set Disciple-Making Expectations

The pulpit safeguards theological fidelity. The preaching ministry of a church has been likened to a rudder that directs the church. As the pulpit goes, so goes the church. In the same way, as the elders go, so goes the church. A plurality of elders demonstrates what it looks like to walk with Jesus and help others follow Him.

If each elder assumes the responsibility of discerning and developing new elders, the church will have a disciple-making culture. While not every believer is charged with developing new elders, every believer is commissioned to make disciples (Matt. 28:18–20). As elders in your church disciple and develop men to serve as elders, the church becomes a place where intentional disciple-making becomes the norm, not the exception.

These three elements—reminding pastors of their first calling, developing leaders, and setting disciple-making expectations—can happen in churches without a plurality of elders. But a healthy plural-elder structure supports intentional disciple-making rather than stifling it. It encourages pastors to invest in disciples, provides a pipeline for leadership development, and lays a foundation for a church culture where disciple-making thrives.



Ministry in the Deconstruction Era

From the rise to progressive Christianity that erodes doctrinal fidelity to the “apostasy vibes” embraced by “ex-vangelicals” like they’re the latest fashion, ministry in our current season faces some serious challenges in the face of popular deconstruction. Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about how pastors and church members can navigate these volatile ideological — and relational — waters.



When Service Becomes Worship

Serving Behind the Scenes

Much of the Lord’s work happens quietly. Long before a sermon is preached or a song is sung, someone has already prepared a place for God’s people to gather. Spaces are opened, checked, repaired, and made ready—often with little recognition, yet with a faithfulness that reflects the heart of Christ Himself.

Over the last decade, the phrase facility stewardship has become a helpful way to describe this calling. The term encourages churches to view the care of their buildings not as maintenance alone, but as an expression of discipleship and responsibility before God. This framing reminds church leaders that tending to the physical spaces of ministry is, in its own way, spiritual work.

Paul writes, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men…” (Col. 3:23–24). These words remind us that God assigns dignity to every act done unto Him, especially the ones that receive the least attention. When service is hidden, it is tempting to believe it matters less, but Scripture consistently teaches the opposite: unseen work is honorable in the Lord’s sight.

Facility stewardship is one of those quiet callings. Early mornings, last-minute fixes, interruptions, and diligence in small tasks all help create an environment where the Word can be heard and God’s people can be strengthened. Even when others overlook this service, the Lord does not. He sees, He remembers, and He delights in the faithfulness of His servants.

Your labor may not always be mentioned, but it is never wasted. God uses it to uphold the ministry of His church in ways that are often unnoticed yet deeply significant in His Kingdom.

A Biblical Vision of Stewardship

Scripture speaks often about stewardship—not merely in terms of resources, but of the heart. Jesus teaches, “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much…” (Luke 16:10). This simple statement reframes the way we think about ordinary work. Faithfulness is not measured by visibility or scale, but by obedience. God cares about the posture of the servant long before He cares about the size of the task.

In the life of the church, work that feels small often becomes the work God uses to accomplish much: a tightened bolt, a cleared hallway, a prepared classroom, a repaired leak. These may not draw attention, yet they protect the ministry unfolding within those walls. They allow others to gather without distraction, hear the Word without hindrance, and worship in an environment marked by care.

The call to stewardship is not primarily about efficiency or orderliness—it’s about offering our labor to the Lord with a willing heart. The God who entrusted His people to shepherds and teachers has also entrusted His spaces to those who maintain them. Both are acts of service meant to glorify Him.

When facility stewards carry out their responsibilities with quiet diligence, they reflect the character of a faithful God—One who pays attention to details, cares for His people, and works in ways often unseen. In that sense, facility work is not peripheral to the church’s mission; it is part of the faithful stewardship God calls His people to embody.

Honoring God Through Excellence

Paul writes, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him” (Col. 3:17).

This verse carries particular weight for those whose work is quiet, repetitive, or physically demanding. Excellence is not a pursuit of perfection—Scripture never calls us to flawless performance or endless striving. Instead, excellence in the biblical sense is about orientation: doing what we do “in the name of the Lord Jesus” with a heart that desires to honor Him. It is offering our labor not to impress others, but to express gratitude to the One who redeemed us.

There is something profoundly Christlike about serving in ways few will ever notice. Jesus Himself spent much of His earthly life doing ordinary work with extraordinary faithfulness. He hammered nails, carried beams, shaped wood, and worked with His hands long before He preached a sermon. His everyday labor was no less holy than His public ministry because He did all of it in obedience to His Father.

So it is with facility stewards. Excellence becomes a form of worship when done with gratitude. Tasks like aligning chairs, maintaining equipment, preparing rooms, or tending to maintenance needs may seem small—but each act is a quiet way of saying, “Lord, this is for You.”

When that mindset governs our work, the mundane becomes meaningful, the small becomes sacred, and the unseen becomes a testimony of devotion. In a world that often measures value by visibility, this kind of excellence stands out—not because it demands attention, but because it reflects the character of God: ordered, intentional, faithful, and full of care.

Your excellence in the hidden corners of the church is not wasted. It is worship.

Going Deeper in Your Service

For many who serve in facility roles, devotional rhythms can be hard to maintain. Early mornings, unexpected needs, and long stretches of quiet work often leave little room for reflection. Yet week after week, the Lord continues to shape His people through small reminders of His presence: a Scripture that lingers, a word of encouragement from a colleague, or a moment of calm in a demanding day.

Some facility stewards find it helpful to follow a devotional pattern designed specifically for the kind of work they do—something simple, Scripture-centered, and written with their daily responsibilities in mind. One resource for this is the Facility Management Devotional, a year-long collection of short weekly reflections. Its themes—quiet faithfulness, perseverance, gratitude, excellence, and joy in unseen service—echo those shared here.

Encouragement for the Week Ahead

Wherever the Lord has placed you, and whatever responsibilities await in the coming days, remember: your service is never small in His sight. The tasks you complete, the problems you solve, the care you give to the church’s physical spaces—all of it becomes an offering when done unto Christ.

Excellence is not merely about the quality of the work, but the posture of the heart. It is the quiet decision, made again and again, to serve with gratitude rather than resignation, diligence rather than indifference, and hope rather than weariness. When that becomes difficult, as it often does, the Lord is faithful to strengthen His people.

May you enter this week with renewed confidence that God delights in the faithfulness of His servants. May your work be shaped by the joy of knowing He is near. And may every unseen act of care become another way of saying, with your hands as much as your voice, “Lord, this is for You.”

 



Four Barriers for New Leaders

Stepping into leadership, in any context, for the first time can feel both thrilling and overwhelming, whether in the church, workplace, or any other context. Leadership is not just a role—it is a calling, and like all callings in the life of a believer, it carries both privilege and responsibility. God equips those He calls, but sometimes He does this through challenges that shape character and refine faith (Jas. 1:2–4). New leaders often bring passion, vision, and fresh energy to the teams they lead, yet they also face unique internal obstacles that can hinder their growth and effectiveness, particularly in the short term. By identifying these barriers, leaders can rely on God’s wisdom, discernment, and grace to lead faithfully, not merely successfully.

Here are four common barriers new leaders must overcome to lead effectively and faithfully:

1. Lack of Personal Discipline

New leaders are often energized by big ideas, but they underestimate the small habits that sustain quality leadership. Without personal discipline—managing time wisely, sticking to commitments, and cultivating spiritual habits—a leader’s influence erodes quickly. While discipline isn’t glamorous, it is foundational in the life of any Christian leader. The daily disciplines of prayer, planning, preparation, and follow-through build the credibility and character required for long-term leadership success.

2. Perpetual People-Pleasing

The desire to be liked is natural—especially for new leaders trying to earn trust and build relational capital with those they lead. But when pleasing people becomes more important than pleasing God, compromise sets in. People-pleasing leads to watered-down convictions, delayed decisions, and burnout. New leaders must learn to speak truth in love, risk disapproval, and prioritize obedience to Christ over applause from the crowd. Leadership isn’t about being popular—it’s about being faithful.

3. Chronic Conflict-Avoidance

Conflict is an inevitable feature of leadership—there is simply no way to avoid it. Often, however, new leaders assume that avoiding conflict at all costs will preserve peace. The opposite is usually true. Ignoring necessary conflict breeds resentment, gossip, and division among the people you lead. Healthy leadership means addressing issues early and directly, with humility and grace. Leadership requires the courage to have hard conversations, pursue reconciliation, and lead others through discomfort for the sake of unity and growth.

4. Debilitating Indecisiveness

Uncertainty is part of leadership, but indecisiveness stalls progress. New leaders often feel paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, but indecision is a decision in itself—and usually the worst one. Leaders grow by making the best decisions they can with the information they have, then adjusting as needed, trusting God with the outcomes. Leadership requires prayerful courage, not perfect clarity.

Every leader faces internal barriers, but new leaders often feel them most acutely. By naming these four challenges—lack of discipline, people-pleasing, conflict-avoidance, and indecision—leaders can confront them with intentionality and grow into the faithful, courageous leaders God is calling them to be, relying on His strength and guidance along the way.



FTC Mailbag

It’s another Mailbag! It doesn’t matter what color it is. It only matters how stuffed with quality questions it is. On this episode, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss helping people scared of baptism, ministry focus for lay elders, “hearing from God,” humor in the Bible, and more.



Melodies in the Maladies: Singing More and Louder

I stood alone in my apartment, still wrestling with the fact that the world had shut down. No training or seminary class had prepared me for 2020 and the questions rising in my soul. What do you do when you don’t know what to do? How do you tell your family that better days are ahead when the data seems to indicate otherwise? At the corner of confusion and despair, however, songs from the African American church began to seep out of the furrows of my soul. They were songs like “I Need Thee,” “Father, I Stretch My Hands to Thee,” and “I Love the Lord, He Heard My Cry.” My mouth caught up with my soul, and I made a “joyful noise to the Lord” (Ps. 100:1). Those melodies from heaven seemed to evict despair and confusion from my apartment. It was a reminder that I need to sing more. I submit that we need to sing more—and sing louder.

Amplify Your Quiet Time

Years ago, I was introduced to the concept of a “quiet time.” The phrase never fully resonated with me. I come from a Christian tradition that considers volume a pleasing and acceptable offering to the Lord. The phrase “quiet time” made me wonder: Is reverence chained to silence? Has someone implicitly decided that noise is unholy?

What about the documented moments of Jesus with the Father? Jesus withdrew and prayed, which we can assume was not quiet (Luke 5:16; Mark 1:35). Consider the garden of Gethsemane and how the disciples could hear Jesus’ sorrowful prayers to the Father (Matt. 26:36–46). The writer of Hebrews indicates Jesus was noisy and reverent (Heb. 5:7). Jesus had some loud times with the Father, so we can, too.

After you feasted on the Word, what if you allowed unrefined, sincere praise to rise from your lips? When the pen retreats from the page of your journal, what if you made a joyful noise to the Lord? I encourage you to sing not only in public worship but also in your private time with the Lord. Sing the songs often reserved for the shower. Let your songs resound in your hallways. Keep a melody in your heart and don’t be afraid to let others hear it.

Melodies in the Maladies

In this life, woes and worries plague us until the Savior returns. Too often, we resort to our own will, ways, and wisdom to fix our afflictions. But what if we followed the path of the psalmists and sang in our affliction?

David sang in Psalm 3 when thousands of people were pursuing his life. He sang when he felt forgotten by God (Ps. 13). After grievous sin and deep repentance, he gave us Psalm 51—a song born from brokenness. Scripture shows us again and again that God’s people sing and pray in dire situations.

What about you? Does work place a heavy yoke on your shoulders? Has the brokenness of those you serve burdened your soul? What about your children who constantly remind you of their sinful nature? What do you do when death and disease continue to greet you at the house of the Lord?

I encourage you to sing. Singing is not a magical incantation that removes the woes and worries, but it does lift the soul. In my apartment, the hymns didn’t remove the pandemic, but they quieted the pandemonium within.

Keep Singing

“I have a bone to pick with you,” she said while towering over me. I looked up at her in anticipation of being reprimanded. She continued by saying, “I can’t hear you sing anymore.”

On a typical Sunday morning, she sat two rows in front of us and once told me she enjoyed hearing me sing. That day, she urged me to sing louder. After our conversation, my mind drifted to Ephesians 5:19 and the call to address one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. We are meant to hear one another sing.

What if, on Sunday morning, we put away the worshipful whispers and hushed hymns? Beloved, shout to the Lord so the words of your unrefined praise might encourage the souls of those around you. Turn the volume up so those watching might ask about what keeps you singing. Let the joyful noise echo through the sanctuary, because God is worthy of it all. Brothers and sisters, we need to sing more—and sing louder.



Sufficient is Today: Trusting the Lord with Tomorrow’s Troubles

Plastered on my letter board in the main focal point of our home is Matthew 6:34. It reads, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” I am three days past my due date with my third baby, which means the blissful ignorance about the pain of childbirth has long since passed. I shoved the white plastic letters into the black felt three weeks ago when I first felt the familiar pangs of anxiety about the birth of my baby boy. This is also my very first home birth, which means the anxieties I’m feeling are different from those I’ve experienced previously.

As the final days of pregnancy have dragged on, I’ve looked at Matthew 6:34 many times. What was first intended to comfort me has instead made me ponder how it can be comforting that tomorrow has anxieties of its own.

For the last three weeks, I’ve found myself praying, “Lord, I know tomorrow will be anxious for itself. I know tomorrow contains its own anxieties. How is that supposed to comfort me? I’m becoming anxious about anxiousness!” I’m certain this is not how Christ intended His comforting words about God’s tender care to be interpreted. That’s likely why Scripture is meant to be read in context, not in small snippets. What I intended to encourage me about fighting anxiety actually took on the opposite meaning when isolated from the rest of Jesus’ words.

If we go back just a few verses, Jesus tells His disciples all the things they do not need to fear regarding their livelihood—food, drink, clothing, shelter. He points out the fruitlessness of anxiety and how it produces nothing but internal turmoil. We cannot add anything to our lives through anxiousness. His point wasn’t that we should be anxious today and anxious tomorrow for tomorrow. His point is that we shouldn’t be anxious at all. In fact, He says in verse 25, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life…”

But Jesus doesn’t tell us not to worry merely because it’s fruitless—He tells us not to worry because we have a loving Father who cares for our needs, a Father who is trustworthy.

My hyper-focus on the pain to come or the fears surrounding the birthing process is rooted in a lack of faith. Just like Jesus’ listeners worried about what they would eat or drink, I worry about my ability to endure what tomorrow holds. From a human perspective, their fears were legitimate: What would they eat? Where would they sleep? You may resonate with the fears I hold. How will labor go? Will my baby be okay? You likely have your own questions about tomorrow’s anxieties as well.

Despite these concerns, Jesus calls us to observe the simplest of creatures: the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. These creatures are not made in God’s image. God cares for them—feeding, clothing, and loving them—yet He tells us we are far more valuable than any plant or animal. The question we are really asking is not what we will eat or drink, but something far greater: Will God take care of me? According to Jesus, the answer is a resounding yes.

Christ knows our tendency to worry about things we cannot control. Eating and drinking are essential, and Jesus isn’t saying they are insignificant. He’s pointing us to the fact that God will provide for our every need. A few verses later, He emphasizes that we are not fleeting like the birds and lilies, but eternal beings. Whether we eat or drink—or even pass from this life—the Lord never leaves or forsakes us (Heb. 13:5–6). Even when physical needs are unmet, our infinite value to God means all our spiritual needs have been provided for through Christ. We have no reason to worry. God is in control and loves us abundantly, far beyond our physical needs.

So why are today’s troubles sufficient? Because the Lord holds our entire lives in His hands. He does not leave us to toil fruitlessly in fear of what’s to come. He has promised eternity to believers through the death of His Son. Tomorrow’s concerns are for the Lord, not for us.

As I read Matthew 6:34 on my wall today—and hope to during the birth of my baby—I will look to my Father, who has graciously provided all things (Rom. 8:31–33). Today is sufficient for its own trouble. Tomorrow will have enough trouble for itself. But I have no reason to fear, because the Lord has me secure.



Easter

“If Christ is not raised, we of all people should be pitied the most.” In this annual holiday episode, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about the truth and transforming power of the resurrection of Jesus.



The Resurrection’s Centrality

Is the resurrection of Christ a necessary component of the gospel message? After all, certain biblical texts seem to imply that Paul may have focused more on the cross. In Paul’s first letter to the church in Corinth he says, “We preach Christ crucified” (1 Cor. 1:23). He doesn’t say, “We preach Christ crucified and raised,” but simply that he preaches Christ crucified.[1]

Just a few verses later Paul seems to double down on his singular focus on the cross: “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). This seems rather exclusive. Earlier Paul even insists that “the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing” (1 Cor. 1:18). Again, he doesn’t include the resurrection. To the Christians in Galatia, Paul likewise says that the cross is an “offense” (Gal. 5:11) and that he boasts only in the cross (6:14). To believers in Rome, Ephesus, and Colossae, Paul writes that we have been reconciled to God through Jesus’s death on the cross (Rom. 5:10; Eph. 2:16; Col. 1:22). He says that “we have redemption through his blood ” (Eph. 1:7) and that Jesus has made “peace by the blood of his cross” (Col. 1:20). It seems like Paul emphasizes the cross more than the resurrection.

Nevertheless, a more careful look at these texts reveals that Paul saw the cross and resurrection as intricately connected. The cross without the resurrection would be like a bird without wings, for the resurrection discloses the significance of the cross. When Paul spoke of one, he implied the other. Only when we see to the other side of the cross does it begin to make sense (see John 12:16). The New Testament never speaks of the crucifixion as an isolated event but speaks of it from the perspective of the victory of Jesus’s life. Jesus’s death and resurrection have a cosmic and scriptural unity.

This can be seen in that the Scriptures describe both Jesus’s death and resurrection as not only being “raised up” but also being “glorified” (for the latter, see John 12:23; 13:31). Additionally, although Paul claims that he only preaches Christ crucified (1 Cor. 1:23), in the next verse he affirms that Christ is “the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:24). Paul elsewhere says that Jesus “was declared to be the Son of God in power . . . by his resurrection from the dead” (Rom. 1:4). The cross wasn’t the power of God until it was transformed by the resurrection.

When Paul says that he knew nothing but Christ crucified, this was shorthand for the complete work of Christ more generally. A little later in the same letter, Paul indicates that he imparts a secret and hidden wisdom of God (1 Cor. 2:7).

This wisdom of God implies that Jesus’s death was not final. It was through Jesus’s death that he was able to offer life. Paul even concludes the letter with his longest reflection on the resurrection in all his correspondences (1 Cor. 15). Paul knew nothing but Christ crucified, but paradoxically this included his resurrection from the dead.

Reconciliation and peace come through the cross and the resurrection. Paul proclaims that “Jesus died and rose again” (1 Thess. 4:14). Paul’s gospel can be summarized in this way: “Christ died for our sins . . . he was buried . . . he was raised on the third day” and “he appeared” to many (1 Cor. 15:3–8). Paul affirms that these realities—all of them—are of “first importance” (1 Cor. 15:3). These four realities are really two realities with confirmations. Jesus died, and this is proved by his burial. Jesus was raised, and this is proved by his appearance to many witnesses.

As one author has said, Christian theology has mostly shined a spotlight on the cross with occasional light aimed toward the incarnation. What we need instead is to shine a floodlight on the total event of Christ’s life, including the resurrection.[2] It is not that the resurrection is more important than the incarnation or the cross; rather, the incarnation and the cross are incomplete without the resurrection. Apart from the resurrection, the death of Christ is void of power.

A gospel message that does not include the resurrection of Jesus from the dead is no gospel at all. To quote another author, “At the heart of Christianity is a cross; and one of the most significant things about it is that it is an empty cross.”[3]

Raised for Our Justification

Most people connect the term justification to Jesus’s death. Justification is a law court term communicating that someone has been declared to be in the right. If you are guilty, a judge can declare you to be righteous. By the judge’s declaration, you are no longer under a sentence, nor must you pay a penalty. Paul, surprisingly, connects our justification not only to the cross but also to Jesus’s resurrection. In Romans 4:25 Paul says that Jesus “was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.” The text can be visualized like this:

Jesus was delivered for our trespasses 

Jesus was raised for our justification 

According to Paul, Jesus’s resurrection is for justification. We have to think carefully about what for means here. It could mean that Jesus was raised because we had been justified. In this case, justification should be tied more closely to the cross and not the resurrection. Some translations even say we have been “raised to life because we were now justified” (NEB marginal note). This is possible but not likely.

I think it means that Jesus was raised in order that we might be justified. In this case, Jesus’s resurrection was not only his vindication but also the vindication of all who believe in him. Jesus was handed over to death because all people have trespassed the law of God, but Jesus was raised to life so that people might be declared righteous. The goal of salvation was not simply to save us from sin but to unite our humanity to God. John Calvin puts the point well: “Through his death, sin was wiped out and death extinguished; through his resurrection, righteousness was restored and life raised up.”[4]

Martyn Lloyd-Jones agrees: “If it is not a fact that Christ literally rose from the grave, then you are still guilty before God. Your punishment has not been borne, your sins have not been dealt with, you are yet in your sins. It matters that much: without the resurrection you have no standing at all.”[5]

In short, Christ’s resurrection is both “part of the atonement as well as being the seal of what happened on the cross.”[6] The resurrection is the decisive deed of justification, the actualization of what is declared.[7] Jesus’s death alone does not secure our justification. He had to be raised from the dead to declare us righteous. God justifies believers by not counting our sins against us and by clothing us with life and righteousness. Spurgeon rightly says,

When our Lord rose from the dead, it was certified that the righteousness,  which he came to work out, was finished. For what remained to be done?  All was accomplished, and therefore he went up unto his Father’s side. Is  he toiling there to finish a half-accomplished enterprise? Nay, “This man,  after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right  hand of God.” Our righteousness is a finished one, for Jesus quits the place of humiliation, and rises to his reward.[8]

Our justification hangs as much on the resurrection as it does on the cross. The resurrection guarantees our salvation and, therefore, is good.


Editors Note: Content taken from The Hope of the Resurrection by Patrick Schreiner ©2026. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, Il 60187, www.crossway.org.


[1] Adrian Warnock, Raised with Christ: How the Resurrection Changes Everything (Crossway, 2009), 71–72.

[2] Theodore B. Clark, Saved by His Life (Macmillan, 1959), 70. Quoted in Thomas S. Kepler, The Meaning and Mystery of the Resurrection (Association Press, 1963), 84.

[3] Michael Green in his preface to George Eldon Ladd, I Believe in the Resurrection of Jesus (Hodder and Stoughton, 1975), 5.

[4] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Westminster, 1960), 1:521 (2.16.13).

[5] Martyn Lloyd Jones, The Assurance of Our Salvation (Crossway, 2000), 492.

[6] W. Ross Hastings, The Resurrection of Jesus Christ: Exploring Its Theological Significance and Ongoing Relevance (Baker Academic,2022), 25.

[7] Thomas F. Torrance, Space, Time and Resurrection (T&T Clark, 2019), 62.

[8] Charles Haddon Spurgeon, “The Power of His Resurrection,” April 21, 1889, The Spurgeon Center, https://www.spurgeon.org/.



Three Encouragements for the Storm-Tossed Christian

Storms are part of the natural weather of the Christian life. When black clouds gather, waves rise, the wind strengthens, and the light fades, our faith is tested on the stormy sea.

This may be you right now—slapped about in the middle of a storm.

Splashed, soaked, tossed, beaten, clinging with cold fingers to the boat while the violent turbulence makes us sick and our strength wanes.

When this is your experience, what can you do? How do you anchor your heart when the storm rages? How do you keep hold of hope so that you might find your way through?

It has brought me comfort to return again and again to the storm stories of the Bible. I encourage you to do the same and to keep your Bible open there for as long as this season lasts. In these passages, God gives us both comfort for our hearts and guidance for our endurance.

Comfort from the Storm Stories in the Gospels

In three of the Gospels, God inspired the record of storm stories through the Apostles (Matt. 8:23–27; 14:22–33; Mark 4:35–41; Luke 8:22–25). These accounts are a gift to us. They orient us in the raging waves and give language to our experience.

We read of an occasion when Jesus sent His disciples into a storm (Matt. 14:22–23). Sometimes storms are aroused by Satan (Job 1). Sometimes they are provoked by our sin (Jonah 1). But sometimes storms come because, in His wisdom, Jesus sends our boat straight into them.

We also discover that Jesus did not help His disciples immediately (Matt. 14:24–25; Luke 8:23). In fact, in the thrice-repeated storm stories, He was asleep. Yet at the end of every storm account, Jesus demonstrates His authority over the waves. He speaks, and they obey.

Lastly, Jesus reveals what His disciples lacked in the storm: faith. They needed greater trust in Him. Though Jesus sent them into the storm, His intent was not to destroy them. Though He slept through the storm, He was not indifferent to their struggle. Though He desired the strengthening of their faith, He did not condemn them for their fear.

Even knowing these truths, when the storm crashes over us, aren’t we just like the disciples—crying through wind and spray, “Jesus, wake up!” Or asking with trembling hearts, “Teacher, don’t you care?” (Mark 4:38).

Despite how absent God’s presence may feel in suffering, we know we have a God who never sleeps and is always with us (Ps. 121:4; Matt. 28:20). We cling to that truth—but how do we do so when we are disoriented and worn down?

Because these truths are easy to forget in the middle of suffering, God gives us practical ways to cling to them.

1. Keep Reading Your Bible

This may sound obvious, but those most battered by the storm often feel their faith fraying. When God seems distant, opening the Scriptures is itself an act of faith.

Even if your heart feels cold, your mind unfocused, or the words fall flat, open the Book. Turn the page the next morning. Read a paragraph before bed. Read the next psalm. God’s Word is “alive and powerful,” and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we have hope (Heb. 4:12; Rom. 15:4).

2. Keep Crying Out to God in Prayer

No, you may not be able to pray for all 18 of your neighbors this season—and that’s okay. Your prayers may feel broken, inarticulate, or reduced to tears.

Persevere in prayer, friend. Run to Jesus with your words and heart. Tell Him everything. Draw near (Jas. 4:8). Cry in faith. Call His name in the rain.

Pray the kind of prayers Scripture invites—honest, simple, without insecurity (Matt. 6:7; Ps. 62:8). And when you finish, thank God for this promise: that the Holy Spirit and Jesus Himself are interceding for you (Rom. 8:26–27, 34). You are not praying alone.

3. Keep Resting in Jesus’ Love for You

Remember the disciples’ question when Jesus slept in the storm: “Don’t you care?” (Mark 4:38). When relief does not come, when the body weakens under pressure, when the waves surge like an oncoming army and no “Peace, be still” is heard, another voice may whisper: God must not love you. He isn’t hearing you. How could He let this happen?

When that voice joins your suffering, look to the cross. And over the roar of the wind you can say, “That cross is proof enough to me that I am loved.”

Storms do not determine whether God loves us. “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us” (1 John 3:16).

Jesus—the one who first said “Peace, be still” to terrified disciples—allowed the storm of God’s wrath to fall fully upon Himself so that you would never face it. He did this so that even in your darkest days, you might know the love of God.

God loves you. He has proven it in the giving of His Son (John 3:16). Jesus loves you and has proven it in the giving of His life (1 John 3:16). And your Captain is committed to sailing with you until you reach the shores of heaven.

Find Strength in the Love of Christ

If you are storm-tossed right now, I hope this has given you a place to go in God’s Word—the storm stories. I hope you are encouraged to keep trusting the Lord by opening the Scriptures, crying out in prayer, and resting in the love he has for you.

As you do, may your heart grow strong in the confidence that nothing—not even the distress of your present suffering—can separate you from the love of Christ (Rom. 8:38–39).