Today my son found months-old Saltines at the bottom of a wicker basket. I pried his mouth open and begged him to spit them out, but he slipped away, swallowing his prize with a grin.
In the next room, strewn across the floor and his high chair, sat his half-eaten lunch. I’ll never understand what makes my toddler desire stale crackers instead of a freshly made sandwich, but he always eats the crumbs off the floor, the bread that seems lesser to me.
Often, I’d argue, when we’re reading the Gospels, we also eat the lesser bread.
At times I open a Gospel to wrestle over Jesus’ teaching, a parable or a specific teaching point, and I forget to see the One who’s teaching. I forget that, by reading the Gospels, we don’t just learn about Jesus, but we can know him.
The Gospel writer John emphasized repeatedly his desire for everyone to know Jesus—through teaching, pointed questions, and important events in Jesus’ life—and in the middle of the Gospel of John, he further emphasized why he wrote: “These [things] are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you might have life in his name” (John 20:31). In other words, John didn’t write just because, or to provide loosely connected observations on Jesus’ life, but he had evangelism in mind. This is the heart of John’s Gospel: that we might believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that we might believe him.
John spent several years following Jesus, hearing him speak, watching his miracles, listening in on conversations. He witnessed Jesus weep, experience hunger and thirst, resurrect a dead man, die, and come back to life. John knew Jesus, and he wanted his reader to know Jesus too; he wanted his reader to really know Jesus—to experience a lasting relationship with Christ that only comes through belief in him.
He wanted his readers to know the greater bread.
At one point in his ministry, Jesus drew a crowd of 5000 hungry people. Enamored by stories of Jesus healing the sick, they followed him. Desiring to feed the crowd, Jesus multiplied a little boy’s fish and bread, the disciples passed out lunch, and the crowd ate until satisfied. Enamored by yet another sign, they tried to “make him king by force” (John 6:15). When Jesus escaped, the crowds followed him to the other side of the sea, and he quickly determined what they were after: they wanted the food, the physical bread (John 6:26–27). Once again, they were more interested in what this man had to offer them instead of the man himself.
Jesus patiently responded with a well-known declaration of his identity: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst” (John 6:35). Yes, Jesus provided the crowds with good teaching, food, and the signs they sought, but he also provided them with something so much greater: he provided the crowds with himself.
Jesus was the greater bread.
Too often, as I read about the life of Jesus, I am just like these crowds—my belief is in a lesser bread. I understand that he feeds the 5000 to show the crowds the face of God, but like them, I come to him for what he provides—I come to him for the lesser bread (John 6:26–27). Too easily, the good things Christ has to offer me—his teachings, his miracles, a renewed attitude, a verse to prove an argument—obscures Christ himself.
As we read about Jesus in the Gospels, we read about a man who lives. We read about a man who pursued us, lived in perfect obedience, gave his life, and was resurrected, so that we might believe in and know him, through the Holy Spirit. This same man sits in heaven even now, with the same resurrected body with which he walked this earth, and thinks of us, sees us, knows us.
And when we read John’s Gospel, we submit ourselves to the Christ who has made himself known, who longs for us to know him as the true bread, the greater bread—who longs for us to believe him (John 6:35, 40).
The next time we open the Gospel of John, we could treat Jesus simply as a good teacher, scrounging for the final crumbs tossed to the floor. Or, we can know Christ as he has made himself known, the Son of God—the One who calls us to believe.
Most Christians will admit there are Sunday mornings when they awaken and wonder whether it’s even worth getting out of bed. Surely God doesn’t need our worship? We’re not serving on the set up team this week. No one will notice if we’re not there. We can perhaps read the Bible ourselves a bit later, pray from the comfort of the couch, pop on some Christian music over coffee. So why bother with corporate worship?
The answer is found not so much by searching the Scriptures for commands to gather—though those commands are certainly there. Rather, we need to look at the God who calls us to worship. I didn’t marry my wife because someone explained the duties and responsibilities of a husband—though those responsibilities are clearly presented in the Bible. No, I met, got to know, and fell in love with Georgina. So we’ll focus on just two truths about God that help us to understand why we worship and what blessings come as a result.
The God Who Deserves Everything
Creatures are made to worship their Creator. When anyone, be they human or angel, turns to think about who God is and what he’s done, the right response is worship.
Unlike bleary- eyed Christians on a Sunday morning, those already in heaven see God clearly and react instinctively to encountering him. To give just one example, in Revelation 4 we meet four strange creatures who live before the throne of God. What do they spend their lives doing? “Day and night they never cease to say, ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’” (Rev. 4:8). These heavenly beings spend every moment in worship: it’s as if it never occurs to them to do anything else. Here they praise God for who he is. He is holy, he is all-powerful, he is eternal. Seeing God’s character and attributes leads to an outburst of praise.
It’s the same when the twenty-four elders, perhaps symbolic of the redeemed people of God, respond to the creatures’ song: “Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created” (Rev. 4:11). This time the focus is not so much on who God is but on what he has done: he has created all things and sustains them moment by moment. Regularly in Scripture, worship emerges from a worshipper’s reflections on the wonderful deeds of God. The Psalms are full of this pattern. Take Psalm 147, which begins with the classic exhortation “Praise the Lord!” The whole psalm then piles up reasons to praise him.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem;
he gathers the outcasts of Israel.
He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars;
he gives to all of them their names. (Ps. 147:2–4)
As the psalmist reflects on God’s kindness to his people—his building of the church and his willingness to deal tenderly with the brokenhearted, even as he is also the one who flung stars into space—he can’t help but worship.
In the New Testament era, it’s no different. As we return to the heavenly throne room, we meet the elders and creatures who are combining their voices to praise Jesus for all he’s done: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Rev. 5:12).
We could multiply examples almost endlessly. Worship ultimately is what we do when we draw near to God. It is his due. Everything we are and have comes from him, so it’s right that we respond in humble thanks and praise.
The Joy of Worship
But we mustn’t think this is mere duty, the kind of reverence shown by terrified citizens who are called to bow before the image of a despotic dictator. Rather, to worship God is our greatest privilege and joy. Perhaps the most famous lines ever to come from a Presbyterian pen are the question and answer that open the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “What is the chief end of man? Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Glorifying God is not a separate activity from enjoying him forever. Notice the question isn’t “What are the two chief ends of man?” but what is our one, singular “end” or purpose. Incredible though it may seem, God has created us for joy—to share with us the greatest gift he could give: himself. And the way we experience that delight is by worshipping him. This is why the Psalms are so full of joy.
In your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
(Ps. 16:11)
Then I will go to the altar of God,
to God my exceeding joy,
and I will praise you with the lyre,
O God, my God. (Ps. 43:4)
With joy and gladness they are led along
as they enter the palace of the king. (Ps. 45:15)
Worship is not just a duty but a delight. We are built to worship, to give ourselves in wonder to something—or rather Someone—who is awesome and worthy. In fact, in the Bible’s understanding everyone is a worshipper. The question isn’t whether we’ll worship but who we’ll worship. In Romans 1, Paul’s critique of humanity isn’t that they stopped worshipping but rather that “they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator” (Rom. 1:25). Stop worshipping God and we’ll start worshipping something else. To put it another way, every human being on earth will be worshipping next Sunday morning. The only question is who or what they’ll worship: the triune God or Allah, Baal, comfort, golf, family, or any of the thousands of other idols we give ourselves to. And from what we’ve seen already, this switch is not just evil but foolish. It’s to swap pure spring water for filthy sewage, a king’s banquet for rat poison and arsenic.
God deserves everything; he deserves all our worship.
Editor’s Note: Excerpt taken from Jonty Rhodes, “Chapter 2: The Purpose of Worship,” Reformed Worship.
The kingdom that Christ proclaimed and fulfilled (Luke 4:43; Acts 1:3) relates to God’s reign over God’s people in God’s land for God’s glory. God reigns, saves, and satisfies through covenant for his glory in Christ. This theme stands at the core of God’s purposes from Genesis to Revelation.
When the Old and New Testaments are read together, at least seven stages are apparent in God’s kingdom program (see table 1). The initial five are the foundation that is ultimately fulfilled in the last two. The acronym KINGDOM allows for easy memorization.
Table 1. God’s KINGDOM Plan
This story is marked by five overlapping covenants (Adamic/Noahic, Abrahamic, Mosaic, Davidic, and new), the progression of which detail God’s purposes for humanity climaxing in Christ. The interrelationship of the covenants is like an hourglass, with the most universal scope occurring at the two ends and the work of Christ at the center (fig. 1). The titles of the initial four covenants relate to their covenant mediator, whereas the title “new covenant” signals how it supersedes the old Mosaic administration (Jer 31:31–34; Heb 8:6–13).
Figure 1. Salvation History within the Flow of the Bible
Scripture’s storyline indicates that Yahweh’s definitive goal is to display himself as the supreme Savior, Sovereign, and Satisfier of the world, ultimately through his messianic representative. As such, the Bible tells the story of God’s glory in Christ. Alongside the KINGDOM acronym, a set of images will help clarify the flow of God’s purposes (fig. 2).
Figure 2. God’s KINGDOM Plan through Images
1. Kickoff and Rebellion
God created humans to image him and commissioned them to “fill the earth and subdue it” (Gen 1:28). But they failed to honor him and submitted to the authority of Satan (3:1–6), who in turn became the ruler of this world (cf. 2 Cor 4:4). Because Adam acted as a covenantal head, God now counts the rest of humanity as having sinned in him (Rom 5:12, 18–19). From conception, we are condemned sinners under God’s just wrath (John 3:36; Eph 2:1–3), and the result is that all rebel and fall short of glorifying God (Rom 1:21–23; 3:23).
Before subjecting the world to futility (Gen 3:16–19; Rom 8:20–21), Yahweh promised to reestablish cosmic order through a human deliverer, who would decisively overcome the curse and the power of evil (Gen 3:15). Sustained sin after the fall resulted in the flood (6:7–8), but God preserved a remnant and reaffirmed his covenant with creation (6:18; 8:21–9:1, 9–11). At the Tower of Babel, however, humans exalted themselves over God, resulting in Yahweh’s punishment once again (11:1–9).
2. Instrument of Blessing
On the heels of Babel, Yahweh chose Abraham as the instrument through whom he would reverse the global curse. He commissioned him to “go” to Canaan and to “be a blessing” there (Gen 12:1–3)—commands that indicate two phases in the Abrahamic covenant. First, in going to the land, Abraham would become a great nation (fulfilled in the Mosaic covenant). Second, through one of Abraham’s representatives (i.e., the Messiah), God would restore a relationship of blessing with some from all the earth’s families (fulfilled in the new covenant).
Though Sarah was barren (11:30), Abraham believed God’s promise of offspring, and God counted that as righteousness (15:6). To exalt his faithfulness, Yahweh vowed to fulfill his land promise to Abraham’s offspring (15:17–18). He also reaffirmed that he would bless the nations through a royal representative, now identified from Judah (22:17–18; 24:60; 49:8–10). Through this individual, Abraham would become a father of many nations (17:4–6), and the promised land (17:8) would expand to lands (22:17; 26:3–4). For such ultimate good, God sent Joseph to Egypt to keep the Israelites alive amid famine, while awaiting the promised land (45:7–8; 50:20, 24–25).
3. Nation Redeemed and Commissioned
God fulfilled his promises by sustaining Israel through four hundred years of oppression (Exod 1:7). For the sake of his reputation, he brought the plagues on Egypt and redeemed Israel from slavery (7:5; 9:15–16). He gave Israel the Mosaic law to mediate his presence and display his holiness among the nations (19:5–6). He provided a means of atonement so that they could be near him (Lev 9:3–6). And he restated his promise of a royal deliverer (Num 24:7–9, 17–19).
Nevertheless, the majority were “rebellious” and “unbelieving” (Deut 9:23–24). Yahweh did not overcome their hard-heartedness (29:4) but foretold how they would continue to rebel and suffer exile (4:25–29; 31:16–17). Nevertheless, out of his compassion (4:31), he would also restore them to the land (30:3–5), raise up a prophet like Moses (18:15–19), punish their enemies (30:7; 32:35), incorporate some from the nations (32:21; 33:19), and cause all his people to love him and obey his voice (30:6, 8–14).
4. Government in the Land
In Israel’s conquest of the land, Yahweh kept his promises (Josh 21:43–45) and exalted himself before the nations as the only true God (2:11). Nevertheless, without a faithful king, the people did what was right in their own eyes (Judg 21:25), and God’s word became rare (1 Sam 3:1). They sought a king, which God granted, but they wanted him to replace Yahweh (8:7). Because they refused to heed the covenant and listen to the prophets, the united empire was divided (1 Kgs 11:11, 13), and the northern and southern kingdoms came to a ruinous end—exile and a destroyed temple (2 Kgs 17:6–23; 25:1–21).
Despite their rebellion, Yahweh graciously declared that he would fulfill his purposes through King David (2 Sam 7:12, 16). One of David’s offspring would be God’s royal “Son,” who would bless the nations and destroy God’s enemies (Pss 2:7–9; 72:17). This Servant-King would also “bring back the preserved of Israel” and be “a light to the nations,” extending Yahweh’s reign to the ends of the earth (Isa 49:3, 6). While guiltless (50:9; 53:9), he would satisfy God’s wrath against sinners through a substitutionary death and, by his righteousness, “make many to be accounted righteous” (53:5, 10–11).
5. Dispersion and Return
Yahweh cast Israel from the land because the people failed to heed his voice (2 Kgs 17:7; 2 Chr 36:16). But from the depths of exile, Daniel pled for forgiveness and restoration (Dan 9:18–19). Out of his boundless kindness (Lam 3:22–23), God promised that he would establish “a kingdom that shall never be destroyed,” that “one like a son of man” would receive “dominion and glory,” and that all peoples “should serve him” (Dan 2:44; 7:13–14).
In the end, Yahweh prevented the Jews from being annihilated (Esther) and restored them to the land (Ezra-Nehemiah). He commanded them to rebuild the temple (Hag 1:8) and to honor him as the “great King” (Mal 1:6, 14). Yet the story of God’s glory still awaited its consummation. The royal Servant had yet to arrive, and Yahweh had not yet fully realized his kingdom purposes.
6. Overlap of the Ages
Moving into the NT era, one of the mysteries of God’s program was that Jesus would first come as suffering Servant and only in his second coming as conquering King (Heb 9:28). He proclaimed “the year of the LORD’s favor,” but only later would he bring “the day of vengeance” (Isa 61:2; Luke 4:19). Today we live in an overlap of the ages: Christ has delivered us from “the present evil age” (Gal 1:4), yet only in a way that lets us taste “the powers of the age to come” (Heb 6:5). Figure 3 visualizes the aspects of the kingdom that are already fully initiated but not yet finally consummated.
Figure 3. The Overlap of the Ages
In the fullness of time, “God sent forth his Son” (Gal 4:4) as the very Word that was God in the flesh (John 1:1, 14). He is the Christ, the promised royal Deliver, “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world” (1:29). By his life, death, and resurrection, he inaugurated the new covenant (Luke 22:20; Heb 9:15) and new creation (2 Cor 5:17). In the “great exchange” of the ages, God counts every believer’s sin to Christ and Christ’s righteousness to every believer (Isa 53:11; 2 Cor 5:21).
Jesus and his apostles proclaimed the gospel of God’s kingdom (Luke 4:43; Acts 1:3; 28:23), the good news “that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve” (1 Cor 15:3–5). By means of Spirit-empowered disciples bearing witness to Christ, God’s reign has spread from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8). Under Christ’s authority, the church must continue to make disciples of all nations for the sake of his name (Matt 28:18–20; Rom 1:5).
7. Mission Accomplished
The reigning King’s return will be glorious (Matt 16:27; 25:31), for we will see him “coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory” (24:30). Only those who “fear God and give him glory” will escape divine wrath when the Son of Man returns to be glorified (2 Thess 1:9–10; Rev 14:7).
Even now, those around the throne of the conquering Lion-Lamb are declaring him worthy to carry out God’s purposes (Rev 5:9–10). And the redeemed multitude will one day cry together, “Salvation belongs to our God … and to the Lamb!” (7:10). In that day, God’s glory—localized in none other than the Lamb—will give his city light (21:23). His servants “will need no light or lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever” (22:5), thus fulfilling their original calling to represent God on earth (Gen 1:26–28).
In view of these realities, Jesus proclaims, “I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star…. Surely I am coming soon” (Rev 22:16, 20). And we say with John, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (22:20).
Summary
From creation to consummation, God is guiding a kingdom program that culminates in Jesus. Both the Old and New Testaments are framed by his-story—a story of God’s glory in Christ. In the OT, God identifies the key players and problems and makes kingdom promises; in the NT, he supplies the solution and fulfills the promises, ultimately through King Jesus. All salvation history points to Christ, and through him God fulfills all earlier hopes, to the praise of his glorious grace (Eph 1:6, 12).
1. What follows updates material that originally appeared in Jason S. DeRouchie, “Jesus’ Bible: An Overview,” in What the Old Testament Authors Really Cared About: A Survey of Jesus’ Bible, ed. Jason S. DeRouchie (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2013), 30–41. Used with permission.
This blog series summarizes Jason S. DeRouchie’s forthcoming book, Delighting in the Old Testament: Through Christ and for Christ (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2024). You can pre-order your copy here.
William Carey—A Plodder, Pioneer, and Proclaimer Who Kept the Grand End in View
Four years after having sent William Carey (1761-1834) to India, the Baptist Missionary Society sent John Fountain to aid Carey and send a report of what he found. Here’s part of his report, dated November 1796:
[Carey] labours in the translation of the Scriptures, and has nearly finished the New Testament, being somewhere around the middle of Revelations. [sic] He keeps the grand end in view, which first induced him to leave his country, and those Christian friends he still dearly loves.
1
William Carey, a modern missionary pioneer who endured much hardship, persevered in faithfulness until the age of 73. His life and ministry would change the modern world.
How did he manage faithfulness in the Christian life in challenging times—and at a time when few had crossed-cultures to reach the unreached?
From his earliest days of missionary activity until the end of his life Carey kept the grand end in view. So, what is this grand end?
The Grand End
While it is right to say that the entire Bible points to and reveals the grand end, I believe there is one verse that sums it up well.
In Galatians 3:8, the apostle Paul says, “And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, ‘In you shall all the nations be blessed.’”
Here, Paul explains that God has always had the salvation of the nations in mind. From the beginning, he conveyed to Abraham his plan.
In what is often called the centerpiece of the first five books of the Bible, God says to Abraham,
Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. (Genesis 12:1-3 ESV)
At the age of 75, Abraham obeyed God, and he and his wife left their country.
After a period of travel and time, God met with Abraham, took him outside and said, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” And [Abraham] believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as After a period of travel and time, God met with Abraham, took him outside and said, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” And [Abraham] believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:5-6). God then made a covenant with him promising that he would be “the father of a multitude of nations” (Genesis 17:5).
In this event, Paul tells us in Galatians 3:8, the gospel was preached to Abraham.
Yet, we might think, “How is this possible, as the name of Jesus Christ is not mentioned?” In short, the gospel preached to Abraham was God’s promise to him that through Abraham and his offspring, all the nations would be blessed. Or, simply that Gentiles, non-Israelites, will be justified by faith.
In Romans 4, Paul explains that “the purpose was to make him [Abraham] the father of all who believe” and that “the words ‘it was counted to him’ were not written for his sake alone, but for ours also. It will be counted to us who believe in him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification” (Romans 4:11, 23-25). And, again, Paul explains that the gospel was “promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy Scriptures, concerning his Son” (Romans 1:2-3).
The gospel has always had the doctrine of justification at its center. Reconciliation of sinful humanity to a holy God, and the removal of his just condemnation, is the core of gospel truth.
Yet, to be gospel-centered is to recognize that the gospel was intended for Abraham in the Old Testament-past as a forward looking, faith requiring message, revealed with the miraculous advent, perfect law-abiding life, atoning death, and victorious resurrection of Jesus Christ, that we are also to receive now as a backward-looking, faith requiring message, and we are to take that message to the nations of earth.
The gospel preached to Abraham, though not revealed in full, was nevertheless received with justifying faith and pointed to a future fulfillment among peoples, including us, from every tribe, tongue, and nation. This future fulfillment is the “grand end” William Carey kept in view.
A Plodder, Pioneer, and Proclaimer
Carey spent just over 40 years in India. As he kept the grand end in view, three virtues describe well his ministry.
A Plodder
Carey’s virtue as a plodder allowed him to see God’s faithfulness strengthen him when there was every reason to give up.
Carey and his family arrived in Bengal and endured immediate hardship. They lived in unhealthy conditions in a shack outside of Calcutta, and they suffered from hunger and dysentery.
In the first year, the Careys lost their 5-year-old son, Peter, to illness. This tragedy, along with other trials, wreaked havoc on both Careys, especially his wife. Understandably, Dorothy Carey struggled, and this led to her retreating from reality and that led to many more trials until her death in 1807.
How did Carey persevere? He trusted in God, and he went forward, plodding by faith.
Carey wrote to his sisters, “I am very fruitless and almost useless, but the Word and the attributes of God are my hope, my confidence, and my joy, and I trust that his glorious designs will undoubtedly be answered.” 2
One of his biographers recounted, “[I]nvinicible patience in labour, and uninterrupted constancy, secured his triumph over every obstruction. He once said … ‘[I]f anyone should think it worth his while to write my life … If he will give me credit for being a plodder, he will describe me justly. Anything beyond this will be too much. I can plod. I can persevere in any definite pursuit. To this I owe everything.” 3
A Pioneer
Carey’s virtue as a pioneer allowed him to see God’s faithfulness sustain him when he was doing things no one had done before.
The first 7 years brought little spiritual fruit. Writing to his sister in 1798, Carey said, “I have however no news to send … at best we scarcely expect to be anything more than Pioneers to prepare the way for those who coming after us may be more useful than we have been. I know success depends entirely upon the blessing of God, and there in him I will trust and not be afraid. The principle thing we see is the translation of the Bible into the Bengal language.” 4
Seeing the translation of the Bible into the native languages was a primary plank in Carey’s platform for evangelizing India. As Timothy George notes, in a country of syncretistic religions—Isalm and Hinduism plus folk expressions of both, Carey held fast to his conviction that “only the Bible could show the uniqueness of Christ.” 5
In 1797, he would see the first draft of his translation of the NT into Bengali, which he would revise 8 times before he died. By 1807 he published a Sanskrit NT.
A Proclaimer
Carey’s virtue as a proclaimer allowed him to see God’s faithfulness as sufficient to bear fruit according to God’s plan.
While focused on translation, once he learned the language, Carey would regularly preach in open-air markets. He took encouragement from the fact that even though there was no response, the name of Jesus is “no longer strange in this neighborhood.” 6
In 1799 Carey moved his family to Serampore to join with two other missionaries, Joshua Marshman and William Ward. Known as the Serampore Trio, these three established a new base called the Serampore Mission—and their friendship and joint missionary service was a key to their survival and success in proclaiming the gospel.
From this home base, Carey also impacted the Indian culture. Early he observed with horror the practice of suttee, where following her husband’s death, the wife was expected to throw herself on top of her husband’s funeral pyre. Carey advocated against this practice until he saw, in 1829, the Governor outlawed the practice. He also contributed several other advancements to Indian understanding of science, engineering, medicine, publishing, agriculture, education, and astronomy.
The Blessing of the Nations
By keeping the grand end in view, William Carey changed the evangelical world and launched the modern missions movement. At his death, as an indication of his sole focus, he requested only a line for his tombstone from one of his favorite hymns by Isaac Watts, “A wretched, poor, and helpless worm, on thy kind arms I fall.”
Despite earthly fame and historic legacy, Carey departed in faithfulness, keeping Jesus in view, the greater Grand End, and the blessing of the nations was the result.
*This article is adapted from Jason G. Duesing’s recent chapel message: “Keeping the Grand End in View: The Life and Ministry of William Carey for the Blessing of the Nations,” a “Great Lives” lecture at Midwestern Seminary and Spurgeon College. You can watch the full lecture below.
1. “From Mr. Fountain to Mr. Fuller,” November 8, 1796, in Eustace Carey, Memoir of William Carey, D.D. (Jackson and Walford, 1836), 286, italics added.
2. William Carey to Mary Carey and Ann Hobson, December 22, 1796 in Terry G. Carter, ed., The Journal and Selected Letters of William Carey (Smyth & Helwys, 2000), 249.
3. Eustace Carey, Memoir, 623.
4. William Carey to Ann Hobson,” November 27, 1798 in Timothy D. Whelan, Baptist Autographs in the John Rylands University Library of Manchester, 1741-1845 (Mercer, 2009), 91-92.
5. Timothy George, Faithful Witness (New Hope, 1991), 111.
6. Timothy George, Faithful Witness,113.
On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson discuss the vital ministry of the church’s care for the poor and marginalized. Why is it important? What does the Bible say about it? And how can our churches better facilitate this ministry corporately and individually?
25 Quotes from *Friendship with the Friend of Sinners*
Are you longing for true connection? The Bible calls Jesus the friend of sinners, but it’s hard to imagine what friendship with Jesus really looks like. How are we supposed to feel that close to a holy, perfect, and invisible God? How do we see Jesus as the real person he is? And how do we experience true friendship with him when we struggle to maintain true friendship on earth?
1. “In a very real way, at the moment I most deserved to be utterly alone and rejected, Jesus came into that room, sat on the floor next to me, put his arm around me, and said, ‘It’s going to be okay.’At the lowest moment of my life, I came face-to-face with my real self. And I came face-to-face with the truest friend. I found him true because at that moment I had the least to offer him.” – p.14
2. “Biblically speaking, of course, Christianity is both religion and relationship. In fact, these categories, properly understood, are not so distinguishable from each other, and it turns out each must fuel the other. A relationship with Jesus without a commitment to his commands, to his church and her ordinances, to his shaping of our entire lives through the (even imperfect) pursuit of disciplines according to his like- ness isn’t the kind of relationship he desires from us. Similarly, a Christian religion without a spiritual hunger for his grace, a humble surrender to his character, and a desperate desire for intimacy with his very presence is just religiosity.” – p.18
3. “The less we become like Jesus, the less we will understand how to do real friendship.” – p.25
4. “The truth is, we’re all terrible friends to Jesus. But he is still the truest friend we could have.” – p.31
5. “The reality of friendship with Jesus depends on a serious reckoning with the reality of Jesus. Most of us, Christians included, however, have grown accustomed to conducting a relationship with the idea of Jesus. But Jesus is a real person.” – p.44
6. “As the aim of spiritual growth in Christianity is to become more conformed to the image of Christ, it behooves us to remember that for Christ to be made real in us, we must be drawing near to a real Christ.” – p.52
7. “We can come to the Bible for more knowledge, and that’s fine. Its facts are impeccable. We can come to the Bible for artistry, and that’s fine. Its words are beautiful. We can come to the Bible for instructions on the religious life, and that too is fine. The law of God is holy and glorious. But if we don’t come to the Word of God for life, we run the risk of dying smart, entertained, and religious.” – pp.56-57
8. “There is no friend closer than Jesus. As we follow him, he never strides too far ahead. He never dodges or ditches us. If we are weary, he slows. If we pull up lame, he stops. If we wander, he circles back. He won’t let us be lost.” – p.61
9. “He has come to dwell among us. He won’t even keep a superior detachment from sinners! He gets up close and personal. He touches people’s sores. He holds their hands. He puts his spit in people’s eyes. You couldn’t keep him at arm’s length if you tried. You certainly cannot cordon him off from your life with chains of flesh or velvet ropes of religion.” – pp.70-71
10. “Remember the good news that God loves sinners. Jesus died for sinners! He isn’t looking for awesome people to unite to himself. He isn’t looking for put-together people for his Spirit to indwell. He isn’t looking for religious people to become brand ambassadors for him. Jesus came to save sinners. He came to unite to himself people who could add nothing to him.” – p.73
11. “Our feelings are no barrier to him.” – p.78
12. “You don’t need a particularly mighty faith to receive the favor of God. Because it isn’t the strength of the faith that saves but the strength of the Savior. If the faith is true, however small, it can lay hold of all the riches of grace in Christ Jesus.” – pp.88-89
13. “He gets so close to the whores and the cheats and the drunkards that he’s accused of their very sins. He’s willing to bear the shame they bear, hear the insults they hear, feel the rejection they feel. Jesus is willing not just to preach to sinners but, risking his own reputation, to be their friend. Indeed, Jesus isn’t just willing to give up his reputation for sinners; he is willing to give up his life.” – p.91
14. “We can’t become like anyone with whom we don’t spend any time. So he draws us to himself. He invites us into his unbothered, undistracted presence.” – p.97
15. “To sit at the feet of Jesus is the highest and best experience we can have. He knows we need to change. He knows we need to produce good fruit and perform good works. But he also knows that none of that matters — or can truly even happen — if we don’t make it a priority to sit still with him and listen.” – p.105
16. “Maturing Christians come not to begrudge the inefficiency of discipleship but to embrace it. We know that the very lament of not being further along is itself a sign of the Spirit’s working in us. The conviction we feel about our sin is a sign of his closeness. The pain we feel in our battle with the flesh is a sign of bearing Christ’s cross. You cannot get close to Jesus without touching his wounds.” – p.108
17. “Every Christian wakes up with Jesus as a ready and eager friend. And no matter how the day has gone — and you might have really blown it! — every Christian goes to bed at night with Jesus as a ready and eager friend.” – p.127
18. “God isn’t keeping score. Because his Son is victorious, so are you. Because his Son is beloved, so are you. And because his Son is eternally resting from the work of atonement, so are you.” – p.132
19. “It was in my lowest, most broken, most desperate devastation that Christ came near in the sweetest grace and care. My sin didn’t surprise him. My blowing up my life did not startle him. He saw it all coming, and in a way, I was on a collision course with a life-changing awakening to the gospel, sovereignly directed by his own will. The truth caught up with me, but so did the grace of God. And when I was most exposed, he was the most tender.” – pp.148-149
20. “Nobody slips through the cracks.” – p.161
21. “This is how our friend Jesus receives our stupid efforts at obedience. We bring the weeds of our works and the mess of our efforts to him, and with the warmest gaze, not even pretending, he says, ‘Oh, how precious!’ He is a gracious Savior. Compared to what he’s given us, he receives so little. But he gladly accepts it all. He receives everything from us with nothing but love.” – p.164
22. “The Giver is himself the gift. And there’s no gift he can give us that can exceed the preciousness and worth of his very self.” – pp.165-166
23. “The closer we walk with him, the more our stride begins to resemble his.” – p.169
24. “The good news is, we aren’t high maintenance to Jesus.” – p.176
25. “Jesus is real. Even now, in our hearts, we can see his face.” – p.212
Editor’s Note: The Theology in the Everyday series seeks to introduce and explain theological concepts in 500 words or less, with a 200-word section helping explain the doctrine to kids. At For The Church, we believe that theology should not be designated to the academy alone but lived out by faith in everyday life. We hope this series will present theology in such a way as to make it enjoyable, connecting theological ideas to everyday experience and encouraging believers to study theology for the glory of God and the good of the Church. This week, the soul.
Have you ever considered what you are made of? Answering this question, a person might speak of all the inner workings of our bodies: our brains and nervous system, our blood and veins, our organs and their functions, our bones, ligaments, and joints. Truly, every eighth-grade biology student would tend to know these facts. Indeed, the Scriptures speak to the fact that humans “have been remarkably and wondrously made” (Psalm 139:14, CSB). However, if we stop at being made as “functional bodies” alone, we fall short of the full Biblical picture of our being. We as humans are bodies and souls.
Concerning the soul, the great confessions of the Protestant Faith usually state something like what we see in the Second London Confession: “After God had made all other creatures, He created man, male and female, with reasonable and immortal souls.”[1] Notice, reasonable and immortal souls. Of course, it is not true that all we are is our soul, either. God created us as both body and soul. But what exactly is the soul? The Old Testament most often uses the Hebrew word nephesh to describe the soul, and this word is closely associated with the life that God breathes into Adam in Gen 2:7 where Moses writes that after God breathed the breath of life in Adam, he “became a living being.” So, we could say that the soul is the immaterial “life” that is part and parcel of the wholeness of being a human. Just as we need our heart to pump and our brain to function, we need our soul to live. Though we know that the other creatures that God created have life—thus some kind of “soul”—we are certain that mankind’s soul is set apart due to mankind being made in God’s image and likeness (Gen 1:27). This, the confession speaks of, as mankind’s soul being reasonable and immortal. Let us look more carefully at these two ideas.
The idea of reasonable
When God created mankind in His image and likeness, He created them as creatures of reason. Far above the rest of creation, God instills in mankind a knowledge of nature and Himself. For instance, after God creates Adam, He gives Him dominion over the earth and charges him with the naming of the animals (Gen 2:19). The animals do not name themselves, but God instructs Adam to, with the reason and authority God gives him (a reflection of God’s authority and reason), name the animals. As Adam is naming the animals, he reasons that though there are male and female companions amongst the animals, there is not one found who befits him (Gen 2:20). Furthermore, it seems that reason given to mankind by God is expressed in the law written on their hearts by which God also commands them to obey (Rom 2:15; Gen 2:15-17).
The idea of immortal
God also creates mankind after His likeness. Just as His Spirit is eternal, so too is mankind’s soul (though created and thus having a beginning) is eternal. Scripture teaches us that when mankind dies, though his body returns to dust, his spirit (or soul) is with the Lord (Gen 3:19; 2 Cor 5:8). When the believer is resurrected their transformed and glorified body will reunite with their soul, but whereas their body died and needed resurrection their soul has lived on, because it is immortal (1 Thes 4:13-18). Paul speaks of the decay of the outer man (which needs resurrection) but of the renewal of the inner man, the soul, which lives on.
Eternal Souls Do Not Equal Eternal Life
Though the soul is immortal, just as the body needs a resurrection, the soul needs regeneration. Humanity is born “dead in our trespasses and sins” (Eph 2:1). However, God does not leave us without hope. Jesus, though eternally God, as the eternal Son, put on humanity—He is truly God and truly man—lived a perfect life we could not live, died a death on the cross we deserved, received the judgment of God we deserved, was buried, and three days later rose again. He did this so that all who would believe in him might be reconciled to Him, the Father, and the Spirit. When a person trusts in Him, they are regenerated, and to the point of our current study, their souls are made new (John 3:1-21).
Conclusion
To summarize, the soul is the life-giving immaterial part of the human being which God created without which mankind would not be whole; he is body and soul. God created mankind in His image, breathing life into him, part and parcel of which is this life-giving reality known as the soul. The soul needs to be regenerated which is what happens when one places their trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, His perfect life, death, and resurrection as the only means to be reconciled to a Holy Triune God.
For the Kids:
When my kids were little, we taught them Biblical truths with questions and answers. One of those questions was: “Who made you?” If your parents are teaching you in the same way, you may know the answer to this: “God made me!” This truth is very important for you to know. It is also important for you to know that God made you as one who not only has a body, but also a soul. The soul is part of who you are, that part of you that you can’t see. Just like it is necessary for your heart to beat, your soul is also necessary for you to live. Though our bodies get hurt and will eventually die (and need to be raised to new life), our souls live on forever. Just because our souls live forever, doesn’t mean that we will live forever with God. Every part of us, even our souls, are sinful, so we need Jesus to make our souls new. He lived without sin, died for sinners, and rose again, so that if we trust in Him, our souls will be made new (and one day our bodies too), and we will live with God forever!
It’s another Mailbag installment of the FTC Podcast. This time Jared and Ross discuss listener-submitted questions on patriotic worship services, difficult books of the Bible, communicating to a church a pastor’s transition, discipleship with and for the disabled, how to know when one is ready to take a lead pastorate, and more.
Are You Just in a Relationship with the Idea of Jesus?
I do not call you servants anymore, because a servant doesn’t know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything I have heard from my Father. — John 15:15
When we relate to Jesus as an idea rather than as a real person, we might make our discipleship feel more efficient and productive, somehow more tangible and more “real,” but we’re short-circuiting the deep heart work Christ’s Spirit is dedicated to performing in us . . . “Wasting time” with the person of Jesus is far more impactful in all the ways that eternally matter than “getting things done” with the idea of him is. Therefore, relating to Jesus as a real person has implications for our understanding of personal spiritual disciplines and our communion with God.
Servant Spirituality versus Friendship Spirituality
Taking a look at John 15:15, I think we can see a Christ-directed premise for our communion with him: “I do not call you servants anymore. . . . I have called you friends.”
Teasing this out can be a little tricky, because in one sense we’re very much still to be servants of Christ. The apostles very often utilized servant language to characterize their relationship with their Lord. Paul, Peter, and James all refer to themselves as servants of the Lord. The Greek word here is doulos, which is more directly translated “bondservant” and more literally means “slave.” The apostles refer to themselves as essentially “slaves of Christ.”
Further, the very concepts of Jesus as Lord and as King — among other biblical titles — presuppose a master-servant relationship. For that matter, the reality that Jesus is fully God presupposes a master-servant dynamic!
So I’m not about to argue that “servant” is an inappropriate, much less unbiblical, referent for our relationship with Jesus. But when we dig deeper into the spiritual dynamic giving rise to this language, I think we can see a little bit of a twist not often considered. For the apostles, as for ourselves, to reckon ourselves slaves or servants of Jesus isn’t exactly to typify our relationship with him (e.g., like a slave would relate to a master) but rather our status before him (e.g., like a slave is bound to a master). Indeed, we’re told that Chris- tians aren’t given a “spirit of slavery” (Rom. 8:15) in relation to God but a spirit more akin to adoption. In other words, by referring to themselves as “slaves” and “servants,” I don’t believe the apostles are saying that God treats us like slaves but that we nonetheless belong body and soul to God alone.
I think, in a way, Jesus is getting at this distinction in John 15:15. For instance, he says that a “servant doesn’t know what his master is doing.” He calls us friends, because he has “made known to [us] everything [he has] heard from [his] Father.”
One directive from owning our status as bondservants of Christ is remembering the holy otherness of God. Servants remember to be reverent in their communion with God, not flippant. They remember to “hallow” God’s name (Matt. 6:9 ESV).
And yet servants don’t have full and open access to their masters. They don’t operate from a baseline of favor and freedom with their masters. They aren’t let into the inner life and eternal plans of their masters. But friends experience all of these things. This is why I want to argue that our Christian faith, while anchored in our status as servants of Christ our King, is felt as real and transformative in our relationship as intimates of Christ our friend.
Consider the spiritual pursuits of two hypothetical believers. I’ll call them Christian S. and Christian F.
Christian S. and Christian F.
Christian S. gets up early every morning and reads his Bible according to a daily plan that will take him through the entirety of the Scriptures in a year. He prays the written prayer at the end of his devotional, sometimes adding specific requests for himself and others he knows. Throughout the day, Christian S. listens to Christian music while he works, and during his break he peruses Christian websites. In the evening, Christian S. leads family worship for his wife and children around the dinner table. Before he goes to bed, he recites a routine prayer.
On Sundays, Christian S. loads his family up in the mini- van and drives them to church. In Sunday school, he squirms a bit during share time but enjoys learning more about the Bible during the teaching. Christian S. is a bit of an armchair academic. He likes answering questions correctly and adding to his trove of Bible knowledge.
During the worship service, Christian S. just listens to the more modern songs but sings along to the older ones, mainly because they please him with their familiarity. When it’s time for the preaching, he takes copious notes and frequently gets frustrated when he misses the next thing the pastor says because he was still trying to record the previous thing.
After lunch out, where Christian S. makes sure he leaves a good tip, wanting to represent the “church crowd” well, his family returns home. Christian S. notices several of his neighbors mowing their yards, and he doesn’t realize he’s a little chagrined. He doesn’t realize that he’s thinking he’s better than them for having dedicated his Sunday to the Lord.
This regimen constitutes the spirituality of Christian S. He’s not an unbeliever, not by any stretch. He’s not a fake Christian. He’s invested in this disciplined routine because he sincerely believes in God and in the gospel, and he takes God’s commandments and his own pursuit of holiness seriously. But if you asked him at any given moment what it feels like to be close to God, he would look at you puzzled. “What do feelings really have to do with anything?” he’d say, not exactly understanding the question. “Facts are superior to feelings.”
Indeed they are. But when other Christians come to Christian S. looking for counsel or help, they don’t experience him as particularly empathetic. He strikes many around him as being deep in conviction but shallow in compassion.
Does Christian S. experience closeness to God? In a way, yes, because he commits so much time to spiritual things like Bible reading, prayer, and church services. But in an- other way, no, because he’s treating all of these things as ends unto themselves, the mechanism by which to simply be a religious person. All of his religious efforts are generally oriented around knowing more and doing more — both good things — but this knowing and doing still fall short of the sort of being God plans to transform us into.
The Holy Spirit uses all of our efforts in the spiritual disciplines toward our good. And none of us engages in the disciplines totally free from self-interest or the corrupting influence of self-righteousness. But there’s approaching the spiritual life as something to master (relating to Jesus as an idea), and there’s approaching the spiritual life as something that masters us (relating to Jesus as a person).
Now, of course, reverence and discipline are good! But treating Christian spirituality like a chore chart or performance review is not. The former are important reminders that while Christ is our friend, he isn’t our peer. The latter treats Christ like an idea, a reward dispenser.
Now consider Christian F. He isn’t nearly as disciplined as Christian S., which is definitely not a good thing. Christian F. wakes up to his alarm but rarely feels awake until after he’s had a couple of cups of coffee. He opens his Bible and reads through a booger-eyed daze. Sometimes he uses a reading plan, but more often he just opens to a book he hasn’t read in a while. Christian F. is no theologian. He would lose against the average fifth grade Sunday school student in any Bible trivia contest. But he tries. He wants to know the meaning of what he’s reading. So he constantly asks God, “Help me out here, Lord.” Christian F. also wants to know what difference the Scripture he’s reading will make in his life. He doesn’t always see it, but he trusts that meaning is there and prays even more that God will show him.
When Christian F. goes to church, he feels lost quite a bit in Sunday school. A lot of it is over his head. But he does love the Bible, and he soaks in what he can. He also loves it when there’s discussion, because he likes hearing from his brothers and sisters. As he hears their hurts or fears or challenges or joys or wonders or successes, he prays for them. Inwardly he mourns for them or celebrates with them, whatever the case may be.
Christian F. is sometimes a minute or two late to the service because he spends time encouraging people or asking if there are ways he can pray for them. Sometimes he lingers to ask the Sunday school teacher to explain a couple of things he didn’t understand but didn’t want to interrupt the flow of class to ask about.
In the worship service, Christian F., like a lot of churchgoers, likes some songs more than others, but he does his best to sing along with them all, whether he “feels” them or not, and he discovers that in all of them there’s something good worth thinking about. And like a lot of churchgoers, Christian F. likes some sermons more than others, but he especially likes when the preacher gets to Jesus. This isn’t because Christian F. thinks the parts of the Bible that don’t mention Jesus aren’t inerrant or infallible or authoritative but because he’s come to suspect the whole thing is really about Jesus, and so when the preacher finally gets there, it feels like a crescendo of sorts, like they’ve made it to some great summit.
Christian F. is a messy prayer. He often wanders and rambles. He’s reverent but not formal. He mainly talks to God as if he’s talking to another person. This can make him uncomfortable when he’s asked to pray aloud in group settings. He’s not sure he knows how to pray with all those “Father Gods” and “Dear Lords” everybody else seems so good at adding. He’s also not sure how to pray without confessing sin. Christian F. sometimes forgets to ask for things besides forgiveness; he usually spends his prayer time telling God about his day and all that went with it and then admitting all the stuff he knows he got wrong. Christian F. doesn’t know how not to be himself in prayer.
Now, what’s the major difference between Christian S. and Christian F.?
I know I’ve stacked the deck a bit with these imaginary stand-ins. And I’m honestly not trying to criticize discipline and formality while celebrating casualness and informality. I’m certainly not trying to denigrate theological knowledge. (As a seminary professor and local church pastor, that’d be a dumb thing for me to do.) But in these admitted caricatures I’m trying to highlight two different ways we often relate to God and engage in spiritual pursuits.
Christian S. represents a servant spirituality. Christian F. represents a friendship spirituality. And the honest truth is that I’m not thinking of different people when I paint these contrasting portraits; I’m thinking of myself. Day to day, season to season, I’ve been both Christian F. and Christian S. If you’ve walked with Jesus long enough, you probably have too.
I notice a distinct — dare I say felt — difference when I’m relating to Jesus as a real person, despite a lack of regimented disciplines. Now, the smart Christian would ask, “Why not both?” Indeed. Jesus himself says that if we really love him, we will keep his commandments (John 14:15). The real key to experiencing deep and renewing change by grace is to dedicate oneself to daily communion with Jesus, which necessarily includes a serious commitment to obedience. But his commands are not burdensome (1 John 5:3). Furthermore, I think too few locate this key because the disciplines themselves seem more manageable than the person of Jesus seems experienceable.
To move from a servant spirituality to a friendship spirituality means really believing — and not just theologically — that Jesus is a real person.
To reach a fuller possibility of friendship with Jesus and to experience spiritual newness through closeness with him depends largely on how real you believe him to be. Relating to the idea of Jesus can make you a smarter Christian, a nicer Christian, a more religious Christian, but it cannot make you a deeper, more joyful, or more authentically Christlike Christian.
While the Old Testament prophets appear to have understood most of what they declared, God did not allow the majority of those in the old covenant to understand the prophets’ words (e.g., Isa 6:9–10). And as a judgment, the people’s blindness continued into the days of Christ (Matt 13:13–15)1. Nevertheless, fulfilling Old Testament predictions (e.g., Deut 30:8), Jesus’s teaching and work began disclosing to his disciples truths that remained distant from the crowds: “To you has been given the secret [Greek mystērion] of the kingdom of God, but for those outside everything is in parables” (Mark 4:11–12).
The New Testament’s “mystery” language appears to come from the book of Daniel, where the Greek translation uses the term mystērion (“mystery”) to render the Aramaic rāz (2:18–19, 27–30, 47). King Nebuchadnezzar has a troubling dream and then looks to Daniel for the full interpretive revelation. The “mystery” that God revealed to Daniel (v. 19) included both the initial dream and its interpretation, as the God in heaven “who reveals mysteries … made known to King Nebuchadnezzar what will be in the latter days” (v. 28). When Jesus alludes to this text by speaking about the “secret of the kingdom” (Mark 4:11–12), he indicates that the Old Testament’s message would remain permanently hidden for some but temporarily hidden for others.
Mystery in the New Testament
The New Testament employs the Greek word mystērion twenty-eight times, all as a technical term for an end-time reality largely hidden in the Old Testament but now disclosed more fully through Christ. All the New Testament occurrences deal with the end-times and are in some way linked to the Old Testament.
What was this “mystery”? In the Synoptic Gospels, the “mystery” relates to the unexpected, gradual, already-but-not-yet fulfillment of God’s end-time reign (e.g., Mark 4:11). In Paul’s epistles, which comprise twenty-one of the term’s New Testament occurrences, the revealed “mystery” or “mysteries” refer to insight into God’s end-times purposes (e.g., 1 Cor 4:1) most directly associated with more fully understanding Christ and the gospel (e.g., Rom 16:25). In Revelation, “mystery” relates to the nature of the church (Rev 1:20) and the self-destructive nature of Babylon (17:5, 7).
What Mystery Implies for Interpreting the Old Testament
Jesus, Paul, and John speak of God revealing a “mystery” to communicate how, in Christ, we gain full disclosure of things that God significantly hid from most in the old-covenant era. Strikingly, as Romans 16:25–27 teaches, the very “mystery” that is now revealed in and through Christ is also now made known to all nations through the Old Testament itself. In the coming of Christ, an era of understanding replaces an era of ignorance as light overcomes darkness and as God grants a fresh perspective on old truths (cf. Eph 3:4–5).
Still, G. K. Beale and Benjamin Gladd rightly affirm that “full or ‘complete’ meaning is actually ‘there’ in the Old Testament text; it is simply partially ‘hidden’ or latent, awaiting a later revelation, whereby the complete meaning of the text is revealed to the interpreter.”2 These parallel truths bear at least three implications for interpreting the Old Testament as the Christian Scripture it is: (a) Only those with spiritual sight can interpret the Old Testament correctly. (b) Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection provide a necessary lens for fully understanding the Old Testament’s meaning. (c) There is an organic relationship between the Old Testament’s testimony and the meaning the New Testament authors attribute to it.
A Relationship with Christ Is Necessary to Understand the Old Testament Rightly
Regarding many of his Jewish contemporaries, Paul declared, “For to this day, when they read the old covenant, that same veil remains unlifted, because only through Christ is it taken away” (2 Cor 3:14). Those who understand “God’s mystery, which is Christ” (Col 2:2), are those to whom God has given “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor 4:6). Indeed, Christ is “the radiance of the glory of God” (Heb 1:3), and by his Spirit, he enlightens the eyes to see what the Old Testament revealed all along (Eph 1:17–18).
To have the “mystery” of God’s kingdom purposes revealed means, in part, that one’s spiritual eyes have been opened to properly understand the Old Testament. Through rebirth, we become spiritual people who can spiritually discern and rightly understand spiritual truths (1 Cor 2:13–14). True Christians are the only ones who can rightly grasp all that God intends to communicate through the Old Testament.
Christ’s Person and Work Clarify More Fully the Old Testament’s Meaning
The Old Testament is filled with declarations, characters, events, and institutions that bear meaning in themselves but also find that meaning enhanced and clarified in Christ’s person and work. For example, the meaning of events like the exodus or of objects like the sacrificial lamb are amplified when the New Testament treats Christ’s saving work as an “exodus” (Luke 9:31) and calls him “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). Jesus’s triumph validated him as the ultimate object of all Old Testament hopes, and this, in turn, transformed the apostles’ reading of the Old Testament (John 2:22; 12:16).
Once Paul met the resurrected Christ, he, too, never read the Old Testament the same way. Indeed, as an Old Testament preacher, he “decided to know nothing … except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor 2:2). At no stage in interpreting the Old Testament should Christians act as if Jesus has not come. Reading from the beginning through Scripture gets us to Christ, but once we find him, we must interpret all the Old Testament through him.
The Way God Discloses the Mystery of Christ Signals Organic Connections between the Old and New
Passages such as Roman 16:25–26, 1 Peter 1:10–11, and 2 Peter 1:20–21 imply that the New Testament’s use of the Old Testament is natural and unforced, aligning with the Old Testament’s own innate meaning, contours, structures, language, and flow. The New Testament authors are making organic connections with the whole of Scripture on its own terms, in alignment with God’s original intentions.
Other passages, such as Colossians 2:16–17, testify that the prophets often envisioned the very form we now enjoy, not only seeing the shadow but also embracing the substance that is Christ, though perhaps more like an acorn or sapling anticipates a great oak. Even if the Old Testament authors were not fully aware of all God was speaking through them, they would have affirmed retrospectively the trajectories that later biblical authors identify.
Christ as Light and Lens
Scripture calls us to see both an organic unity and a progressive development between the Old and New Testaments. There is a natural connection between what the Old Testament human authors intended and what the New Testament human authors saw fulfilled in Jesus, but the Old Testament meaning is now often fuller, expanded, or deepened because through Christ God reveals the mystery. Jesus’s saving work supplies the spiritual light that enables one’s spiritual senses to see and savor rightly, and his person and work provide the interpretive lens for properly understanding and applying the Old Testament itself in a way that most completely magnifies God in Christ. Figure 1 unpacks what is happening with respect to Scripture’s progressive revealing of Old Testament meaning, and figure 2 elucidates further the way Christ operates as a lens, supplying us a developed understanding of the Old Testament’s meaning.
Figure 1. The Progressive Revelation of Old Testament Mystery
Figure 2. Interpreting the Old Testament through the Lens of Christ
Conclusion
The Old Testament is Christian Scripture, and God intends that we interpret it as such, not as if Christ has not come. We must read the Scripture forward, backward, and forward again. The Old Testament prophets knew they were writing for new-covenant saints living in the days of the Christ. Bound up in the gospel of Jesus Christ is the revelation of a “mystery that was kept secret for long ages but … through the prophetic writings has been made known to all nations” (Rom 16:25–26).
A relationship with Jesus is essential for rightly interpreting the Old Testament, for through him God enables understanding. By turning to Christ, “the veil is removed” (2 Cor 3:16). The light of Christ supplies us the needed spiritual sight for understanding the things of God, and the lens of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection provides the needed perspective for fully grasping the Old Testament’s meaning. God wrote the Old Testament for Christians, and he enables believing interpreters to grasp more fully than others both the meaning and the intended effect of the initial three-fourths of the Christian Scriptures.
1: See G. K. Beale and Benjamin L. Gladd, Hidden but Now Revealed: A Biblical Theology of Mystery (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2014), 29–46. 2: Beale and Gladd, Hidden but Now Revealed, 330.
This blog series summarizes Jason S. DeRouchie’s forthcoming book, Delighting in the Old Testament: Through Christ and for Christ (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2024). You can pre-order your copy here.
Are you longing for true connection? The Bible calls Jesus the friend of sinners, but it’s hard to imagine what friendship with Jesus really looks like. How are we supposed to feel that close to a holy, perfect, and invisible God? How do we see Jesus as the real person he is? And how do we experience true friendship with him when we struggle to maintain true friendship on earth?
