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.



Why Expository Preaching Matters

What’s the big deal about expository preaching? Does it really matter if we preach through books of the Bible? Can’t we just do something more “relevant” or innovative? In this episode, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about the biblical, theological, and pastoral importance of preaching expositionally and warn about some challenges and pitfalls in the practice.



What Are the Four Senses of Scripture?

Why did early theologians feel the need to distinguish “senses” of the Scriptures in the first place? Denys Turner asserts that there are three reasons. First, Scripture itself distinguishes between the literal and allegorical senses. Even though the biblical authors didn’t fully outline this form of interpretation, they themselves distinguished between the literal and spiritual senses (2 Cor. 3:6). They interpreted literally but also allegorically (Gal. 4:24; 1 Cor. 10:3–4), tropologically (Rom. 15:4), and anagogically (Gal. 4:26).

Second, early interpreters distinguished between the senses because the quadriga was a useful method in uniting the Jewish Scriptures and explaining how Christ’s coming had changed history. The four senses allowed them to read the whole of the Scriptures as a Christian document. Thus, every text had something to say to God’s people even if it was written under another covenantal epoch.

Finally, distinguishing between the senses provides a mechanism by which interpreters can commune with God. For most of Christian history, this was the primary purpose of biblical reading. Modern methods, by contrast, seek the correct interpretation—a worthwhile goal but not the ultimate one. Each of the four senses leads interpreters higher up the ladder until they reach an interpretation that points to the glorious future and causes us to proclaim, “Maranatha.”

The Literal, Allegorical, Tropological, and Anagogical

Now we turn to a more philosophical summary of the senses. The four senses are essentially two senses: the literal and the spiritual. The literal sense indicates what God is saying in the text, and the spiritual senses show where God is going with the text. The spiritual sense is broken down into three categories, which results in the quadriga. The four senses historically have been described as the literal (littera, historical), allegorical (allegoria, symbolic), tropological (tropologia, moral), and anagogical (anagogia, futuristic).

The literal sense refers to the most natural sense of the words in their grammatical and historical context, a sense that will be discovered by sound exegesis. It, as some have paraphrased Aquinas, is “the way the words go” and is the author’s intention in accordance with genre. The literal sense contains, discloses, but also veils the mystery of Christ. When we seek the literal sense, we ask questions of the text like “What is being said?” and “To what does this refer?”

The allegorical sense refers to symbolic or figural meanings that have some connection with Christ or the church. To discern an allegorical sense is to assert that the words point to things that point to other things. But an allegorical sense will always be in conjunction with the literal sense. This sense has gone by a variety of names throughout history—typological, mystical, sacramental, spiritual, theōria (contemplation), and hyponoia (deeper sense). To seek an allegorical sense is to ask questions such as “Where is Christ or the triune God in this text?” and “How does this text point to the church?”

The tropological sense is another spiritual sense, but when we seek this sense, we narrow our focus to the formation of the church and persons in the church. We’re concerned with morality, ethics, and being. A tropological interpretation affirms that the Scriptures are meant to be lived, not simply studied; they pertain to what we are called to do. This phase of interpretation asks questions such as “Who are we?” and “How is this text calling us to act?”

The final spiritual sense is the anagogical. This sense pertains to what is to come, what we are hoping for, and our ascent to God. When we interpret anagogically, we ask questions like “How does this text point to the new creation or God’s judgment?” and “How does it help me ascend to God?”

Literal > Allegorical > Tropological > Anagogical

The four senses have been expressed in this little jingle:

The letter teaches facts, allegory what you are to believe,

The moral meaning what you ought to do, anagogy what you should strive for.

Bonaventure puts it this way: “By tropology, they teach us how to act as men; by allegory, show us what to believe with faith; by anagogy, reveal to us what to desire for our eternal delight.”

In essence fourfold interpretation affirms that meaning is referent. The literal sense points to an immediate referent, whether abstract or concrete. The spiritual senses extend that referent. The referent changes in one sense (Moses is not Christ), but in another it is simply drawn out to its true and ultimate referent (Christ is the new Moses). The curtain of the temple in the Old Testament truly was the sewn cloth that resided in the tabernacle and temple of ancient Israel. Yet the referent is ultimately Christ, since the curtain participated in and points to something greater that Christ fulfills. Because Christians believe in a providential view of history and because Christians believe all things participate in Christ, a word can have multiple referents in accordance with the progressive nature of revelation. These referents are linked but distinct.

The most famous example of the fourfold sense can be found in ancient interpretations of the name Jerusalem. Though such interpretations are usually done with reference to Galatians 4, we will look at Matthew 23.

In Matthew 23:37 Jesus says, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her.” The fourfold sense can be explained in this way. Jerusalem refers first to a historical city and its first-century inhabitants. The city was once inhabited by the Jebusites, captured by David, and made the capital of Israel and later the capital of the Southern Kingdom of Judah (literal). Jesus is entering that historical city and referring to the people of the city on his way to his death on the cross.

But Jerusalem is also more than simply a historical city and its people. Jerusalem can also be understood as a cipher for all God’s people, both past and present (allegorical). Jesus’s words refer first to the historical city and the people who rebuff him. Yet Jerusalem spiritually represents all God’s people who have killed the prophets—past, present, and future (Gal. 4:25).

Jerusalem also represents the individual human soul (tropological). Christ’s lament is personal. He longs for his own people to be ready to accept their Savior. He longs for you and me to have our hearts opened to him. We shouldn’t be like historical Jerusalem, which sought to kill him.

Finally, Jerusalem reminds us of the new Jerusalem (anagogical). Christ’s cry of agony over Jerusalem is a prayer aimed toward the time when his great city will welcome him with open arms. His cry is laden with hope: On the last day, Jesus will no longer lament over his people but rejoice over them (Gal. 4:26; Heb. 12:22–23; Rev. 21:2).

The Reformer Johannes Oecolampadius makes the same sort of exegetical move when speaking of Babylon’s destruction as described in Isaiah 13–14. He says that the prediction concerns Babylon’s fall in history (literal sense). Then he describes how Babylon’s destruction should be understood according to the other three senses. “Babylon has been destroyed by Christ who has restored our every freedom. For he says, ‘Take heart, for I have overcome the world’ (John 16:33). And through him we are daily conquering Babylon within ourselves. But the full and true overthrow of the world will not occur until the end of the ages of this world.” Babylon, as representative of the kingdom of this world, has already been overthrown by Christ (allegory), has to be daily conquered by the Christian (tropology), and will finally be destroyed in the last day (anagogy). Even a Reformer employs the quadriga.

The Fourfold Sense

Senses Description Jerusalem Example
Literal What took place Historical city and people
Allegorical Ought to believe All God’s people
Tropological Ought to do Human soul
Anagogical Ought to strive for Celestial city of God

 

Another example comes from Aquinas, who articulates the four senses through a phrase from Genesis 1:3, “Let there be light” (as it is rendered in the Latin of the Vulgate: “Fiat lux”). He says that, with reference to the literal sense, “let there be light” pertains to corporeal light. God created physical light at creation. However, according to the allegorical sense it means “Let Christ be born in the church.” This is confirmed in John’s Gospel, which compares Jesus’s coming to the light shining in the darkness (John 1:5). The tropological sense refers to “Christ illumining our understanding and kindling our emotions.” Paul commands us to walk in the light (Eph. 5:8), and the psalmist says God illumines our darkness (Ps. 18:28). The anagogical sense urges us, “Let us be led into glory through Christ.” In the last day, the earth will be illuminated by Christ’s splendor (Rev. 18:1; 21:23). Inherent in the language of Genesis are all these senses.

We have looked at examples of the quadriga that interpret a single word (Jerusalem, Babylon) and a phrase (Let there be light), and now we will see an illustration of this practice through a major event—the exodus. The literal sense tells us that Moses and Israel crossed the Red Sea to escape from Pharaoh; it relates both to the event and to the narration of the event. The allegorical sense is that the literal sense points beyond itself to Christ’s death on our behalf and his victory over the powers. This victory is then embodied in us as we are baptized and practice a new way of life (tropology). Finally, we long for the day when we make our final journey and cross from death to eternal life (anagogy). Dante puts it this way: “For if we inspect the letter alone, the departure of the children of Israel from Egypt in the time of Moses is presented to us; if the allegory, our redemption wrought by Christ; if the moral sense, the conversion of the soul from the grief and misery of sin to the state of grace presented to us; if the anagogical, the departure of the holy soul from the slavery of this corruption to the liberty of eternal glory presented to us.”


Content taken from The Four Senses of Scripture by Patrick Schreiner, ©2026. Used by permission of Baker Academic.

 



Holy Enjoyment: Temperance and Joy in Pastoral Ministry

Temperance: Ordering Your Desires

The Bible often articulates the virtue of temperance as sobriety or self-control, as in 1 Peter 1:13: “preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded.” Or, in 1 Peter 4:7 he says, “The end of all things is near; therefore, be alert and sober-minded for prayer.” Likewise, in 2 Peter 1:5–8 he commands believers to “make every effort to supplement your faith with goodness, goodness with knowledge, knowledge with self-control, self-control with endurance, endurance with godliness, godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love.” Here we see why Scripture frequently contrasts the outer man from the inner man, the old man from the new (1 Cor. 15:47–49; 2 Cor. 4:16; Col. 3:1–17). This is the substance of temperance, “to put off the old man and to be renewed in God—that is, to scorn all bodily delights, and the popular applause, and to turn the whole love to things divine and unseen.”[1] Temperance is that habit of grace, by the Spirit’s employment, whereby the Christian is able to keep his soul from corruption, degradation, and deformation.

The cultivation of virtue is not an end in itself, nor are virtues simply to bring about the common good. Rather, we are in service to holiness since we are in union with Christ to God. Because believers are united to Christ—having his righteousness imputed to them—the pursuit of virtue has a new foundation and end. It is directed toward eternal life and blessedness, culminating in the vision of God when we see Christ as He is.

Augustine says temperance is “restraining and quieting the passions which make us pant for those things which turn us away from the laws of God and from the enjoyment of His goodness, that is, in a word, from the happy life.”[2] Temperance is not merely avoiding or negating earthly passions, but cultivating love for the chief love. It is like a faithful parent who restrains and trains a child to grow up and flourish. Like good parents, temperance seeks to use the proper means of discipline and restraining and of conditioning and training.

Holiness: Keeping Watch Over Your Life

Robert Murray McCheyne’s well-known comment about the pastor’s holiness is well-known and worth being reminded of (even if it’s apocryphal): “The most important thing our people need is our holiness.”

Pastors are models of what the psalmist says, “My soul longs, yes faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.” (Ps. 84:2)

One of Satan’s greatest devices against pastors is to adorn the world’s folly in such beauty that the soul is ensnared into false affection. He does this to keep us from the holy life of mortifying sin and vivifying Christlikeness. The actions of mortifying and vivifying not only capture the regenerate life of the Christian in Colossians 3:1–17, but also the way of pastoring. The one who is hidden with Christ in God mortifies that which remains fleshly (vv. 5–10) and vivifies, or enlivens, who we are in Christ (vv. 12–17) for the sake of the flock entrusted to him.

However, for the pastor, the life of holiness and temperance is not without peculiar obstacles.

Even within the holy action of temperance, there is opportunity for disorder and entanglement. Of this disorder, Webster insightfully notes that mortification and vivification are “often marred by self-absorption, whether in the form of excessive confidence in human powers of self-realization, or in the form of restless anxiety about performance. Both threaten the flourishing of the Christian life, because both manifest mistrust in the condition in which God’s grace has placed the believer, and are accompanied by the temptation to detach mortification and vivification from the original grace of regeneration.”[3] In other words, the pastor is not merely tempted to have excessive confidence or restless anxiety in his leadership or preaching, but in his very life of holiness.

As a gift of God’s grace, the virtue of temperance allows us to both restrain and quiet the passions by resting and enjoying Christ’s temperance for and on behalf of us. The virtue of temperance is designed by God in such a way for pastors to be who they were made to be by seeing that “the true sacrifice is offered in every act which is designed to unite us to God in a holy fellowship, every act, that is, which is directed to that final Good which makes possible our true felicity.”[4] Instead of morbid self-absorption that ruins our enjoyment of this earthly life, the practices of temperance are themselves the path to true joy in the chief good.

Enjoyment: Right Ordering of Loves

The virtue of temperance says the life of the pastor is ordered in such a way that he restrains the passions and trains his affections to produce righteousness, resting all the while in Christ’s righteousness imputed to them. As such, pastors cultivate temperance by ordering affections through enjoyment of God.

If David relishes the contentment found in the self-sufficient God in Psalm 34, then he revels in the abundant joy of the right hand of God in Psalm 16. Being content in God means participating in his ever-new happiness. With contentment in the all-satisfying and self-sufficient God, the pastor bears the fruit of joy because he is made happy in Christ. In both Psalm 16 and 34, David relates his enduring joy specifically in God’s goodness. Moreover, David says he has no good apart from God (16:2), but that in God he lacks no good thing (34:10).

Though this God-centered and God-backed joy is real now, it awaits full completion. Pastors daily encounter competitors to God’s goodness, rivals to God’s beauty, challengers to God’s truth. Thus, in other Psalms, David repeatedly makes known his laments and longings for the fully satisfying enjoyment of God (i.e., 42:2; 63:1; 84:2; 119:81; 143:6). This complete satisfaction and enjoyment of God is both our source of strength and our motivation to endure in the life of temperance (i.e., Rom. 5–8).

In other words, the relation of God-centered joy, which arises from God-centered contentment, to temperance is that the hope of heaven trains us for our arrival on heaven’s blissful shore (Ps. 16:9–11). Temperance believes that God will make sure we make it home. The hymn on Psalm 16 helps the pastor treasure God as his chief good as he is an eager and willing example to the flock entrusted to him:

You have made know to me

The path of life divine.

Bliss shall I know at Your right hand;

Joy from Your face will shine.[5]


[1] Augustine, Morals of the Catholic Church, 63-64.

[2] Ibid.

[3] John Webster, God Without Measure, vol. 2, 105.

[4] Augustine, City of God, X.6

[5] Words: Psalm 16; Music: Ananias Davisson (1780–1857), arr. David Iliff (1939–present)



What Is Christian Formation? Conformed By Scripture, Transformed by Grace

As we study the seven virtues in this book, we will seek Christian formation that is conformed to divine revelation and transformed by divine grace. Apart from divine revelation, we are in danger of sinful rationalization and satanic deception. Our loves are disordered: We do not esteem God rightly or honor his design.[1] Instead, we invert the order of reality and idolize created things (Rom 1:21-23). Though we might perceive in part the goodness, truth, and beauty of God’s creation, we are like a building misaligned with its cornerstone. We do not rightly relate these goods to the ultimate good-God-and therefore cannot rightly relate these goods to each other or to ourselves. Christian formation, however, is taught the order of reality in Christ, the treasury of wisdom and knowledge in whom “all things hold together,” who reconciles creation to God as God in a created human nature (Col 1:17, 20; 2:3). Christian formation is a way of being and becoming human that is conformed to divine revelation.

Apart from divine grace, we are in danger of self-help legalism and the self-pitying despair. We may, through flawed-yet-functioning faculties of the soul, order our appetites to obey our intellect through the mediation of our willpower. (Without the benefits of moderate health and decent education, even this prospect seems unlikely.) We do not need knowledge in general. We need the knowledge of God that takes root through faith in Jesus and produces good fruit by the Spirit. The argument is not that Christian formation “works,” whereas sub-Christian or anti-Christian formation do not. There are many natural practices that can help humanity to, for example, become physically fit, gain expertise in particular subjects, or even cope less destructively with the horrors of a fallen world. But what profits us partially and temporarily cannot perfect us, because being and becoming human requires an everlasting unit with God and his people. Christian formation is the carrying on of the process of beholding Christ that culminates in the transformation of the human nature into the heavenly glory of Christ on the last day (2 Cor 3:18; Phil 3:21). Christian formation is a way of being and becoming human that is transformed by divine grace.

Through faith in Christ, the incarnate Word, “with all those in every place who call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord,” Christian formation is a way of being and becoming God’s new humanity (1 Cor 1:2). This eschatological orientation of Christian formation—already inaugurated and not yet consummated—means that it must be pursued under Scripture and, therefore, as the church.[2] If Christian formation is both a conforming to revelation and a transformation by grace, then theology and spirituality depend on the Spirit’s Word (Scripture) and the Spirit’s people (the church). It is the Spirit, after all, who reveals the mind of God to us as we behold the Son in the Scriptures (1 Cor 2:11; 2 Cor 3:18). Further, the spirituality of theology necessitates that we seek to learn alongside Christians from around the world and throughout the ages. Because this Spirit unites believers in one body, we are to make “every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit,” including in our theology, “until we all reach unity in the faith” (Eph 3:3–4, 13).

Though there are “necessary … factions” that distinguish us from those who undermine the faith (1 Cor 11:19), and “sharp disagreement” leads brothers to part ways temporarily (Acts 15:39), we must humbly recognize that God’s Word did not originate with us. The Word has “reached” us through the millennia-long relay race of believers preserving and proclaiming it (1 Cor 14:36).[3] From the Father, in the Son, by the Spirit, and under Scripture, the church is God’s school of theology and spirituality, through which God forms his new humanity so that we are “mature and complete, lacking nothing” (Jas 1:4). The gift of perfection comes from above, through trials, with the new humanity (Jas 1:4, 17–18).


Editor’s Note: This is an excerpt from Every Perfect Gift: Classical Virtues for Christian Formation by Travis J. Montgomery and Joseph Lanier, released by B&H Publishing (August 2026).

[1] As we will discuss more, especially in chapter 4, Augustine defines virtue as “ordered loves” in his City of God, XV.22. C. S. Lewis succinctly summarizes Augustine, Aristotle, and Plato on the idea of ordo amoris (order of love) in his Abolition of Man, 16–17. See also Oliver O’Donovan, The Problem of Self-Love in Augustine (Wipf & Stock, 2006).

[2] John Webster, Word and Church: Essays in Christian Dogmatics (T&T Clark, 2001), 196.

[3] As will become clear throughout this book, we are approaching the topic from the perspective of Reformed. catholicity. Often, catholicity will take center stage, emphasizing the common ground of Christian thought through the ages. At certain points, however, our decidedly Protestant, Reformed, evangelical, and Baptist convictions will be apparent. On the biblical, historical, and dogmatic basis for this term, see Michael Allen and Scott R. Swain, Reformed Catholicity: The Promise of Retrieval for Theology and Biblical Interpretation (Baker Academic, 2015).



Love That Makes Room: Serving Families with Disabilities

Our very first Sunday with our oldest was full of tears. We had taken her into our home just days before. We had wanted to grow our family, and God gave us a 16-year-old who experiences cognitive and physical disability. During service, she struggled to be quiet, it was difficult to tube feed her in the sanctuary, there was nowhere to change her diaper, and the number of items to bring for her was incredible.

The following Sunday, the couch was calling my name. It would have been much easier to stream the service and let her play with her noisy toys, feed her in the comfort of my own home, and not have to load, unload, and reload a giant stroller. Yet, we persisted.

Almost four years have passed, and we have come to realize that our church needs us there as much as we need to be there. Our family serves as an encouragement to others who also walk with the special needs demographic. Looking back at those first weeks and months, I can see many things my congregation did that helped us feel loved and welcomed. I also see opportunities for churches to continue growing in how they serve families with disabilities.

Here are seven ways churches can care well for these families:

  1. Provide a Reserved Space

Perhaps you do not have chairs rather than pews, but the point is the same. We had a specific place we sat regularly. In our case, it was a shorter pew to accommodate wheelchairs. Individuals with neurodivergence often find more comfort in consistency. When they have a place to sit each week and a spot to call their own, it can make for smoother Sunday mornings.

  1. Set Up a Private Changing Station

Not everyone with physical disabilities needs this accommodation, but many do. Our church purchased a privacy screen and changing mat for diaper changes. This way, she was able to be changed with dignity and discretion.

  1. Learn Some ASL.

Though I cannot say each and every person learned ASL, a few people took interest and asked specifically for the words our daughter knew. You don’t need to become fluent—even learning a handful of signs goes a long way. It is as easy as an internet search to find common signs to make deaf, hard of hearing, or mute congregants feel more welcome.

  1. Make the Effort to Say Hello

Rather than the natural instinct to shrink away when a person feels uncomfortable to talk to, the people in my church regularly drew near. There were individuals each week who made sure to say hello to my family—all five of us. This was by far the most meaningful; no one was forgotten.

  1. Sensory-Friendly Bags

Putting together a few sensory-friendly bags for families to use during their time at church would be a special help for many. Filling them with noise-canceling headphones or earplugs for them to use during the worship service, squishy toys, and fidget items would serve these members well while not drawing attention away from the service. These are items kids can look forward to playing with only at church.

  1. Help Build Connections

Churches increasingly have programs for children. However, once the kiddo is a teenager or young adult, the opportunity for relationship dwindles. This can leave individuals with disabilities feeling isolated after aging out of children’s ministry.

Churches can intentionally encourage friendships by inviting peers to include them in conversations, activities, and everyday church life. Often, a simple invitation to belong can make a family feel seen and welcomed.

  1. Support Caregivers

I do not pretend that every family will trust those within their church to care for their favorite humans, nor should they feel pressured to do so. Trust takes time.

Even so, churches can intentionally care for caregivers in practical ways. Perhaps individuals and families in the church can check in through texts regularly, arrange meals during times of illness, and ensure that the parents do not become too isolated.

Being a caretaker can offer great reward, but it can also take a severe toll on the provider. A church that consistently encourages and supports caregivers reflects the love of Christ in tangible ways.

As we journey to the throne, may our churches show love to families of all types. “And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me’” (Matt. 25:40).