What Does It Mean to Believe in God?

By / Aug 27

Knowing About God

Sometimes the people who are supposed to know the most about God know Him the least. Perhaps this sounds counterintuitive, but this has consistently been the case throughout history. The past is littered with examples of men and women who have been raised to believe in God, who have been trained in theology, and who spent their whole lives studying Him but did not truly know Him. Martin Luther is a perfect example of this. Prior to his rediscovery of the gospel during the Reformation, Martin Luther claimed to hate God.[1] Yet, as a monk he studied Scripture, fasted regularly, and did all sorts of devotional duties. Luther knew many things about God, but he did not know God.

This phenomenon—knowing lots about God yet hating Him—is present in the Bible as well. The Pharisees constantly challenged by Jesus because of this. Just like Martin Luther, these men were required to know the Bible and studied the things of God to a degree beyond many of us. Yet, they too were guilty of not truly knowing God. Jesus makes this abundantly clear when He exclaims, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others” (Matt. 23:23). They failed—just like Luther once did—to grasp the purpose behind all their diligent study.

Believing in God

Both of these examples demonstrate something that is extremely important when dealing with the topic of belief in God. There is a big difference between saying, “I believe in God” and “I believe in God.” The first highlights that someone can have a lot of knowledge about God, can read all the right things about God, can do all the prayers and rituals without ever truly believing in God. For them, belief is merely intellectual assent to an idea. Saying “I believe in God,” under this rubric, is no different than saying “I believe that the earth revolves around the sun.” It is a mere fact.

This is why not everyone who claims to believe in God will enjoy eternal life, because they do not truly know God. They believe in the wrong way—a way that failed to produce life. As the late J.I. Packer says in Knowing God, “A little knowledge of God is worth more than a great deal of knowledge about him.”[2]

However, when a Christian says, “I believe in God,” they are not using this phrase to show their intellectual assent to an idea, but to reflect their trust in the God of the Bible. Belief, faith, and knowledge of God are primarily relational categories. “Christians don’t just believe—we believe in someone.”[3] Obviously, this means knowing things about God. A person cannot claim to be in a healthy relationship with someone if they know nothing about that person. But it also means much more than simple intellectual assent.

Abraham’s Faith

So why do Christians think of belief in this way? Why is it that they focus on the relational instead of only focusing on the intellectual? The answer to this can be found in the book of Genesis and the life of Abraham. Abraham was called by God to leave his family and travel to a new land. God was going to take him and make him into a great nation. But there was just one problem, Abraham did not have an heir. So God appears to Abraham and tells him, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them . . . So shall your offspring be” (Gen. 15:5). Abraham responds to this in a rather unique way; “And he believed the Lord, and he counted it to him as righteousness” (Gen. 15:6; cf. Rom 4:3).

Abraham believes God, takes Him at His word, and trusts that He will do what He says He will do. This faith is credited to him as righteousness. He is not commended by God for his great theological skills. He is not exalted because he can list the attributes of God without needing to reference a theology textbook. No! He is considered righteous because he believes in God. He puts his hope in the word of the Lord that is addressed to him. He has faith, and as Herman Bavinck beautifully says, “only by faith does a promise become our possession.”[4] It is trust in the Lord that is highlighted when the Christian exclaims, “I believe in God!” It is relationship, not mere knowledge, that is proclaimed by the Christian.

Belief That Leads to Life

Martin Luther, the Augustinian monk who once declared his hatred for God, eventually came to understand this for himself. He did not have any grand vision or a cathartic experience, but he came to believe in God through “study in the tower of the Augustinian monastery.”[5] There, Luther would have a similar experience to Abraham’s. Rather than looking to his own merits, he would learn to take God at His word and trust Christ. This so changed his life that he could write, “What man is there whose heart, upon hearing these things, will not rejoice to its depth, and when receiving such comfort will not grow tender so that he will love Christ as he never could by any means of any laws or works?”[6] Martin Luther’s recognition of these things not only allowed him to say “I believe in God,” but sparked a movement against the cold, dead intellectualism of his day and has since allowed millions of people to proclaim “I believe in God” with him.

None of this is meant to sound anti-intellectual. Learning about God, studying theology, and knowing the Bible are all really good things. Yet, Christian faith cannot end with the intellect. To say “I believe in God” is to proclaim that you have entered into a relationship with Him by taking God at His word. It is, as Herman Bavinck says, “not a matter of knowing a number of doctrinal truths” but consists “in the soul’s union with the person of Christ according to the Scriptures and with Scripture as the word of Christ.”[7] It is a relationship, not knowledge of facts.

[1] Roland H. Bainton, Here I Stand: The Life of Martin Luther (New York: Meridian, 1955), 44.

[2] J.I. Packer, Knowing God (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1975), 26.

[3] Alister McGrath, I Believe: Exploring the Apostles’ Creed (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1997), 20.

[4] Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics: Prolegomena, ed. John Bolt, trans. John Vriend (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2003), 565.

[5] Roland H. Bainton, Here I Stand, 47.

[6] Martin Luther, “The Freedom of a Christian,” 66.

[7] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics: Prolegomena, 573.



FTC Mailbag

By / Aug 26

In this installment of the regular Mailbag feature, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss your submitted questions and topics, including: “blank slate” student ministry, questions for pastoral search teams, premarital counseling, unrepentant friends in church, the dynamic between elders and deacons, and what exactly Luke meant when he said Satan “took” Jesus. As always, you can submit a question or topic for the Mailbag any time by emailing [email protected]



When You Feel Too Weak to Lead

By / Aug 25

When Weakness Meets the Call

There are moments in church life when a man feels both the weight of the task before him and the weight of his own inadequacy.

I know those moments well because I experience them often.

I know what it’s like to stand off to the side before a service begins, Bible in hand, heart pounding, hands shaking, while asking God for help because I don’t feel capable enough to give what the task before me requires. I know what it’s like to want Christ to be honored and yet to feel deeply aware of my inadequacies. There are even times when I want to run away, pretend I’m sick, and let someone else lead.

But lately I’ve begun to embrace this apparent tension.

In his book, The Clay Pot Conspiracy, Dave Harvey says, “Pastoring is where an imperfect person leads imperfect people in an imperfect church to reach an imperfect world.”[1]

Though Harvey is writing about pastors, I think his point applies to anyone who serves in the church. Earlier he writes that when our weakness meets God’s power, the result is resilient ministry.

Leading in the church isn’t about looking capable. It’s about leaning on God because I know I’m not.

The Church Doesn’t Need an Impressive Leader

I remember as a kid—and even through my teenage years—I couldn’t speak to a group of any size without my hands shaking and it ending in tears. Because of this, I concluded that I wasn’t a leader and that if God wanted me to lead anyone, He would need to provide a miracle.

But He gave me more opportunities—starting with my own family.

I found myself assuming that, over time, the work of standing before God’s people would eventually feel natural or effortless. But that has not been my experience. Instead, it has often felt like being a boat tossed by the storms of the sea.

One temptation in leadership is believing that what the church—or even our families—need most is a great appearance, clarity of speech, or confidence and humor that attracts people. But the gathered church doesn’t need a man who appears put together. Indeed, neither do my wife and children.

The church needs to be helped to see God. Not me. That’s the real mission.

When the church gathers, the great need is not that leaders be impressive, but that Christ be visible, the Word of God be clear, distractions removed, hearts lifted, and the people of God drawn again to reverence, faith, repentance, and hope.

We want people to see Christ and cling to Him as their only treasure.

That happens through the Spirit’s work. Often, it comes through ordinary acts of service, preparation, removing distractions, and helping God’s people fix their attention on Christ rather than the man standing in front of them.

The Prayers Weak Leaders Pray

I don’t think of leadership mainly as bringing strength before the body. I think of it as bringing my weakness honestly before God and the body and asking Him not to let me get in the way.

Now, weakness can be damaging if it causes a man to turn inward like it did with me for so many years—and still does at times. It can make you timid, self-absorbed, and fearful. But I’ve learned that there is another kind of weakness. The kind that strips a man of self-trust and drives him to prayer, makes him cling to Christ, and teaches him that he cannot live on gifting or personality alone. It teaches him that he must ask for help.

More often than not, my prayers sound something like this:

Lord, help me.

Lord, keep me from being a distraction.

Lord, let Christ be seen.

Lord, please use me.

These are the prayers of a man who knows he is not the point. And perhaps, at times, they are also a defense against wanting to be the point. They are the prayers of one who remembers that God has always delighted to place His treasure in jars of clay, so that the surpassing power might plainly be His and not ours. The Lord has never been embarrassed to use weak men. He has only ever been glorified through them. This is something that took years for me to learn, and I still struggle to believe it.

Weakness as a Gift

This is good news for a man like me who feels ordinary and for the man who feels too aware of himself. It’s good news for the man who steps forward to lead while inwardly pleading for grace. It’s good news for the man who loves Christ, loves the church, and still feels, at times, too strange and small for the work set before him.

Such feelings do not necessarily disqualify a man from leading. They may, in fact, reveal that he understands the task better than the man who thinks he has mastered it.

Christian leadership is not a great presence, strong communication, or the art of appearing untroubled. It is the humble work of trusting God, speaking His truth, and serving His people while knowing full well that, apart from grace, you are inadequate for all of it.

I know what it’s like to feel too weak to lead. It rarely feels comfortable. But I am beginning to think that this discomfort has been one of God’s greater kindnesses to me. It has exposed the vanity and pride of my heart. It has reminded me that the church does not need my put-togetherness. It has driven me back to a life of clinging to Christ.

And perhaps that is where a man becomes most useful. It’s not when he finally feels strong enough to lead, but when he has been taught, again and again, to seek help from the One who leads him.

Perhaps feeling unfit to lead is not always what keeps a man from serving. Sometimes it is what teaches him how. Keep clinging to Christ.

[1] Dave Harvey, The Clay Pot Conspiracy: God’s Plan to Use Weakness in Leaders (Greensboro: New Growth Press, 2025).



Pastoral Fortitude: Courage in the Ministry of Word and Prayer

By / Aug 24

The Virtue of Fortitude[1]

Fortitude simply refers to the ability to endure difficulties and sufferings well for the sake of the good. The church father Ambrose spoke of fortitude as “courage of the mind when a man conquers himself, restrains his anger, yields and gives way to no allurements, is not put out by misfortunes, nor gets elated by good success, and does not get carried away by every varying change by some chance wind.”[2] Fortitude is the habit of mind and action of those who are united to Christ to readily bear all things for the sake of the good, even in light of difficulties and sufferings of self and world.

Fortitude is possible, fitting, and necessary.[3] It is possible because, by virtue of Christ’s imputed righteousness, we are brought to life and our soul’s faculties are made new. Fortitude is fitting because the blessed vision of God awaiting us is our source and strength for building our capacity to resist evil and face fear. Fortitude is necessary because, though we have been transferred from darkness to light, that blessed vision awaiting us is not yet realized in full possession.

Importantly, fortitude is determined by its knowledge of and the quality of the good, and thus requires the individual to know what the good is (i.e., God Himself). Particularly, fortitude follows the knowledge of reality that we receive in union with Christ. In other words, courage follows right reason because action follows being; united to the resurrected Christ, we act in that resurrected power. In faith, we are able to be brave for the good. Fortitude is not aimless or haphazard bravery, which is only foolish. Fortitude is not determined by the extent of strength; rather, like the rest of the virtues, its exercise is determined by the object pursued.

2 Corinthians 4:8–12 demonstrates that the power of fortitude comes from the sufferings of Christ and His resurrection power. The life of Jesus was one of suffering, for His gaze was set on those whom the Father had given Him. Christ’s endurance of suffering, even to death, was not only to fulfill the righteous requirements of the law, but to, in unfathomable grace, pour out that righteousness onto His bride so that she would be restored and brought home with Him.

The power of God is powerfully displayed in weakness. It’s when we are afflicted but not crushed, perplexed but not driven to despair, persecuted but not abandoned, and struck down but not destroyed, that the life of Jesus is manifested in our weakness, frailty, and dependence. Richard Sibbes notes here that the spiritual person is courageous and strong precisely in the face of opposition: “The more opposition, the more courage he has . . . the more [the early Christians] were opposed, the more they grew . . . The spirit of liberty gives boldness, strength, and courage against opposition.”[4] Fortitude, then, is found where the light of life brings the new covenant’s resurrection power for our communion with Christ. Only here do we persevere in holiness and endure death’s affliction such that thanksgiving increases, all for God’s glory (2 Cor. 4:1–2, 8–12, 14–16).

Word and Prayer

The virtue of fortitude plays a unique role in pastoral ministry. Particularly, it is seen in the ministry of Word and prayer. As the pastor shepherds the flock entrusted to him, his mode of shepherding is administering God’s Word to sinners and sufferers as he intercedes on their behalf. In other words, not only does the virtue of fortitude aid the pastor in his ability to keenly comfort the afflicted and patiently admonish the wayward, but in doing so, those brothers and sisters are equipped to endure on their pilgrimage.

Colombe artistically depicts Lady Fortitude as battling a dragon invading the castle. In literature, dragons and monsters typically represent our own wickedness through the indwelling presence of sin.[5] For Colombe, Lady Fortitude’s dragon is the constant war we all wage against ourselves: “To protect the castle of the soul, we must have the courage to wrangle and destroy our dragons of vice . . . she [Lady Fortitude] reminds us to have the courage to pluck out the dragons lurking in the castle of our hearts.”[6]

This, of course, is how the Apostle Paul depicts the nature of the Christian life in Ephesians 6. It is a battle each and every day. The courageous person therefore must look to God in Christ for help in daily help through training and discipline. This is why Colombe’s sculpture depicts Lady Fortitude wearing protective armor as she leans back on a sturdy pillar. She is clothed with the armor of God (Eph 6:10–17), and “relies on God’s towering strength and power to accomplish her deed.”[7]

This sort of ministry, administering true reality to sinners and suffers, is a most glorious ministry. Pastors have the privilege of administering the truth that Christ’s death removes the evil one’s power and Christ’s resurrection empowers endurance in suffering. Through His sin-bearing death, Christ has accomplished victory over Satan, and the propitiation for sins. Of course, Satan still roams about taunting and mocking. Yet, his (borrowed) power of destruction, God’s wrath, has been removed in Christ’s sin-bearing death. God’s mercy in Christ is our shield, and Satan cannot succeed against it. The divine peace that comes through Christ’s decisive defeat of Satan, achieving and imputing righteousness, and pouring out resurrection power to us creates in us fortitude.

It’s true: sin and suffering remain until Christ’s second advent, which means we have to endure the assaults of hell for a little while longer. But we confess with Peter to Christ: “To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” What other source of power is needed to live the virtue of fortitude? While fear of death, indwelling sin, and the assault of hell are the primary obstacles to being courageous, the victory achieved by Christ’s death and resurrection has put those obstacles to an end.

Preach the Word

Augustine notes: “whoever follows after what is inferior to himself, becomes himself inferior… For if happiness consists in the enjoyment of a good than which there is nothing better, which we call the chief good, how can a man be properly called happy who has not yet attained to his chief good?”[8] While there are several ways to describe the act of preaching, this statement captures the admonishing fervor of a preacher as he heralds to the congregation not to follow self but Christ who is their chief good and happiness.

Following self results in many wounds and casualties. One result is strife which can be conceived as a deficiency of loving peace. Those caught in the vicious circularity of strife have disregarded the chief good, God Himself, and are trapped in their own self-enclosure. In other words, the pastor’s heralding to follow Christ and not self has corporate effects.

The practice of forbearance, closely linked with the virtue of fortitude, lays out the moral responsibility of those loved in Christ to bear with and exhibit long-suffering for our brothers and sisters when they irritate, frustrate, or annoy us, hurt our feelings, or make life more difficult than it already is (Eph. 4:2; Col. 3:13). While forbearance is a command by Christ, it is also a virtue that we cultivate as we endure and live with those around us under the rule of Christ’s peace. Thus, the virtue of fortitude looks like the long-suffering practice of bearing with those who we may want to quarrel with in anger or disregard in strife.

The vice of discord is the deficiency of peace wherein charity is destroyed and self-regard is perpetrated. Gregory says: “let those who sow strife consider the extent to which they sin. For when they perpetrate this particular sin, they also eradicate every virtue that they may have in their heart . . .whoever destroys the charity of his neighbor by sowing strife acts as though he were in the service of God’s enemy.”[9]

In order to practice forbearance, it requires us not to be so easily offended. Proverbs 18:19 notes that those easily offended are more unyielding than a strong city. In contrast, it is those of good sense who find glory in overlooking an offense (Prov. 19:11), and love, by definition, does not keep a record of wrongs (1 Cor. 13:5). In other words, those who exhibit fortitude, by following Christ and not self, are those who are not riddled with fear, distrust, and worry. Since the life of virtue is in accordance with reality, “we should bear all things rather than forsake God.”[10]

[1] This is an edited excerpt from Every Perfect Gift: Classical Virtues for Christian Formation.

[2] Ambrose, De officiis I.36.181. Cited in Webster, God Without Measure, vol. 2, 91.

[3] Webster, God Without Measure, vol. 2, 88–89.

[4] Richard Sibbes, “Excellency of the Gospel Above the Law,” in The Works of Richard Sibbes, vol. 4 (Banner of Truth, 2023), 232.

[5] “Dante’s threeheaded, monstrous Satan is a mirror of our own capacity for evil. Frankenstein’s monster is a mirror of the society who treats him poorly. Odysseus meets a series of monsters that teach him something about his own vices and virtues.” Davis, Beholding by Becoming, 165, n33.

[6] Davis, Beholding by Becoming, 165.

[7] Ibid., 165.

[8] Augustine, Morals, 47–48.

[9] Gregory the Great, Book of Pastoral Rule, 155.

[10] Augustine, Morals, 22.41



A Costly Calling and Enduring Joy

By / Aug 20

In the summer of 2019, I served as a short-term missionary in the Philippines, helping bring the gospel to an unreached island of 20,000 people with fewer than 50 believers. During our training, the leaders didn’t just teach us cultural context and evangelism methods—they were honest about the oncoming suffering. Through it, the flesh and the Enemy attempted to convince us of the same lie: This suffering isn’t worth it. I’m done. Why didn’t I stay home to do my own thing?

My own team faced many types of suffering firsthand. We argued over evangelistic methods. One teammate’s mother was deathly ill with cancer before the trip began, nearly keeping him off the trip. Another grumbled against the team leader, causing an undercurrent of strife. One village resisted our presence and caused us to leave quicker than we wanted. Time and time again, something rose up to make us doubt whether giving up our summer to be there had been the right decision at all.

I often asked, “Why is this happening to me?”

I imagine Job felt similarly. Job is introduced as a “blameless and upright” man, “one who feared God and turned away from evil” (Job 1:1). Then, Satan accuses God, claiming Job’s devotion is nothing more than a byproduct of His blessing. God permits him to test this claim, and Satan strips Job of his wealth, health, and children in rapid succession. It gets to the point where his own wife urges him to curse God and be done with it. When Job resists, his friends spend nearly 27 chapters insisting he repent of a sin he never committed to alleviate his suffering.

Job’s suffering provided every reason to say, “This suffering isn’t worth it. God, I’m done with you. I’m going to do my own thing.” But he didn’t. He suffered faithfully, never cursing the Lord or turning his own way.

There is much that those of us called to ministry can learn from Job, because there will be many times when we trek through suffering and consider saying, “I’m done. It’s not worth it.”

We need reminders for why faithful suffering is worth it in ministry.

Suffering Under His Sovereignty

God was not surprised when Satan challenged Him about the earnestness of Job’s devotion—He offered up Job himself. This was no arbitrary act, but one that was sovereignly ordained so that God could show His glory through Job’s suffering.

The same is true for us. If God has called you to ministry leadership, He is sovereign over that calling so that He can display His power through us. He places us where he wants us so that they may seek and find God (Acts 17:27). God’s calling isn’t haphazard. This includes our suffering. 1 Peter 4:19 says, “Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.” We can suffer according to the will of God, refuse to reject him, and trust him—even without fully understanding.

Despite all the hardship we faced as we ministered that summer in the Philippines, we trusted that God had sent us there for a specific reason to proclaim His glory, even amidst obstacles.

Suffering for Our Joy

Job does not explicitly express any joy in the book, but there are shadows of rejoicing. God blessed Job, and he died “an old man and full of days” (Job 42:17). He ends his life living in the blessedness of God, reminding us that true joy is ultimately found in God Himself (Ps. 16:11).

The New Testament reminds us that our suffering is never pointless. James tells us to count it all joy when we suffer because our testing leads to endurance toward mature holiness (Jas. 1:2-4). Peter and John leap for joy because they were “counted worthy to suffer dishonor” for Christ (Acts 5:41).

Faithful suffering is worth it because endurance produces maturity that allows us to experience the joy of the Lord. We know that God works everything together for the good of those who love him (Rom. 8:28). This includes the joy of faithful obedience through suffering to God.

We continued laboring for the Lord that summer despite our issues. We suffered and ministered with Him, participated in His joy, saw people receive the gospel, and recognized that we were being obedient just like our missionary heroes—including C.T. Studd, who said, “If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice is too great for me to make for him.”[1]

Suffering for Gospel Advancement

Job carries missional implications. Job lived in the land of Uz—meaning he was a Gentile. Yet, he knew God personally. Amidst his children and servants, he influenced many people. Job’s faithful suffering led him to pray for his friends, and all his brothers, sisters, and everyone who had known him before came to visit him and show sympathy and comfort after his suffering (42:11). His faithfulness gave him a great opportunity to tell them what the Lord had done for him, and to show how worthy he was to faithfully suffer for Him.

When we faithfully suffer in ministry, we show the Lord’s worth and display our faith in the gospel. Your suffering can be used to proclaim the gospel. God may be calling you to a position or place that is difficult. You may be like Adoniram Judson, laboring for years before you see any fruit. You may be like Elisabeth Elliot, laboring in a place that reminds you of a great tragedy that has caused you great suffering. But it is all worth it for the proclamation of the gospel to all creation.

We finished that summer through all the hardship and suffering. Since we returned, many short-term teams and long-term nationals have gone to that same island to continue ministering. This year—seven years after our initial trip—they finally built a small building to house the church, after many had been baptized. While we cannot take any credit, we see that our short-term faithful suffering led to the continued advance of the gospel.

Minister, continue to faithfully suffer for the Lord. It is under his sovereign will, for your joy, and for the advancement of the gospel.

[1] Grubb, Norman. C. T. Studd: Cricketer & Pioneer. Cambridge: Lutterworth Press, 2003, 144.



The River of Wisdom

By / Aug 19

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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



Discipled By the Internet

By / Aug 19

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



Quiet Labor in the Lord’s Vineyard

By / Aug 18

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

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

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

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

The Beauty of a Quiet Life

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

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

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

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

The Dignity of Faithful Work

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

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

The Witness of Ordinary Faithfulness

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

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

Laboring in the Lord’s Vineyard

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

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

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

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

Will you labor heartily in His vineyard?

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

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

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

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

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



Justice in Pastoral Ministry: Caring for Souls with Humility

By / Aug 17

The Virtue of Justice

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

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

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

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

The Art of Soul Care

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

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

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

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

Providence, Humility, and Prayer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[2] Augustine, Morals, 15.25.

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

[4] Ibid., 142.

[5] Synopsis of a Purer Theology, 101.

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

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

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



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

By / Aug 13

The Meaning of Love of God

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Initiating Love of God

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Flavel has expressed this point so wonderfully:

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

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

Look to Christ and Rest in God’s Love

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

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

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

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