Episode 263: Humor in the Pulpit

By / May 15

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson talk about the place of humor in preaching. Should it ever be used? If so, how? What are some things to do and *not* do?



To See Thy Face, Immanuel

By / May 13

Editor’s Note: The following poems were written by Charles Spurgeon and compiled by Geoffrey Chang in Christ Our All: Poems for the Christian Pilgrim . They are reproduced here by permission of B&H Academic. The book releases May 15 and is available to preorder now.

 

The One Request[1]

Cambridge / Waterbeach, June 1853

If to my God I now may speak,
And make one short request;
If but one favor I might seek
Which I esteem the best, —

I would not choose this earth’s poor wealth;
How soon it melts away!
I would not seek continued health;
A mortal must decay.

I would not crave a mighty name;
Fame is but empty breath.
Nor would I urge a royal claim;
For monarchs bow to death.

I would not beg for sinful sweets;
Such pleasures end in pain.
Nor should I ask fair learning’s seats;
Love absent, these are vain.

My God, my heart would choose with joy,
Thy grace, Thy love, to share;
This is the sweet which cannot cloy,
And this my portion fair.

For further reflection: Psalm 16:5–8

 

Immanuel[2]

Cambridge / Waterbeach, June 1853

When once I mourned a load of sin,
When conscience felt a wound within,
When all my works were thrown away,
When on my knees I knelt to pray,
Then, blissful hour, remembered well,
I learned Thy love, Immanuel!

When storms of sorrow toss my soul,
When waves of care around me roll,
When comforts sink, when joys shall flee,
When hopeless gulfs shall gape for me,
One word the tempest’s rage shall quell,
That word, Thy name, Immanuel!

When for the truth I suffer shame,
When foes pour scandal on my name,
When cruel taunts and jeers abound,
When “bulls of Bashan” gird me round,
Secure within my tower I’ll dwell,
That tower, Thy grace, Immanuel!

When hell, enraged, lifts up her roar,
When Satan stops my path before,
When fiends rejoice, and wait my end,
When legion’d hosts their arrows send,
Fear not, my soul, but hurl at hell
Thy battle-cry, Immanuel!

When down the hill of life I go,
When o’er my feet death’s waters flow,
When in the deep’ning flood I sink,
When friends stand weeping on the brink,
I’ll mingle with my last farewell,
Thy lovely name, Immanuel!

When tears are banished from mine eye,
When fairer worlds than these are nigh,
When Heaven shall fill my ravish’d sight,
When I shall bathe in sweet delight,
One joy all joys shall far excel,
To see Thy face, Immanuel!

For further reflection: Matthew 1:21–23

 

[1] Autobiography 1:293.

[2] Autobiography 1:294; SOOH 13.



Getting to the Glory: An Excerpt from The Storied Life

By / May 9

The sportswriter Red Smith was once asked if writing a daily column was difficult.

“Why, no,” Smith replied. “You simply sit down at the typewriter, open your veins, and bleed.”[1]

Admittedly, Smith’s observation is a little overwrought. But only a little.

There is a way to write that costs the writer very little. And then there are Writers. There is a contemplation of the art and an undertaking of the craft that engages all we are and all we have, as if the ink on our page is drawn from our very blood.

Maybe you’re not sure which one you are. Are you a writer or a Writer? It’s okay. You don’t have to know just yet. Both Writers and “people who write” can create work that impacts readers in profound ways.

Writers write. That is the bottom line. There is no getting around it. It is a nonnegotiable truth. You don’t need to be particularly good at writing to be a writer. You don’t have to be published to be a writer. You don’t even have to be read to be a writer. But you must write. By definition, writers write.

Wanting to write is not being a writer. Thinking about writing is an important part of being a writer, but it isn’t by itself being a writer. Fancying yourself a writer is not being one.

Writers often hear wannabe writers say, “I want to write someday,” but actual writers don’t say such things. They’ve been writing.

Writers don’t ask for permission. They don’t wait for the perfect moment. They feel the inexorable draw to create coming from the inside; it’s something they just do, something they are. Nobody has to assign them the task. They usually don’t need anyone to give them an idea.

Someone once said, “I don’t know what I think about a thing until I write about it.” That is the sort of thing only a writer would say. Writers cannot conceive of their place in this world apart from processing it through the written word. Putting the stuff on paper or a screen makes it more real. Modern society possesses a pronounced shortage of people who will admit to not knowing things, but among those whose pride will not forbid them this confession are the ones who make up their minds about a thing after reading about it. Writers do that too. But only writers understand the concept of writing to understand.

Writers understand writing as a way of being.

If you just consider yourself “someone who writes,” all this talk of costliness and bleeding onto the page might be making you a little queasy. I do apologize. And I promise there’s not a whole lot of gore in the rest of the book.

For all you Writers, though—this introduction is especially for you. It’s for those of you who make reading introductions a habit because you suspect every bit of a book matters. After all, it all matters when you write.

I bring to this project a spirit kindred with yours. I love the whole writing process out of all proportion. I love the finished project, of course. Everybody loves that. But I also love the first bit of noodling around on a page, typing and typing and backspacing and backspacing. I love the part when I’ve been writing for a while and suddenly something unlocks and, lo!, a rushing wind, a tongue of fire, unction!, and the words are now carrying me rather than the other way around. I love moving chunks around, scratching out lines, cutting, pasting, turning a series of disjointed what’s-its into a smooth pastiche without the seams. Finding le mot juste? I adore.

What I’m trying to say is that if you love to write, feel called to write, or cannot not write, this book is for you. If you wonder sometimes if any of it is worth it, if you wonder if there’s such a thing as a “call to write,” if you get frustrated that the work won’t flow like you want it to—this book is for you too.

I see writing as more than an opportunity to communicate creatively. Creative writing is in fact a reflection of the creative meaning of the universe, a direct derivation from the Creator himself. He has made everything with words and has given even of himself as the Word. This isn’t some piddling around kind of stuff.

I don’t care if you write novels or a recipe blog, theological essays or personal letters, book-length devotionals or thirty-minute sermons. Your writing is divinely gifted, eternally scaled, and gloriously weighted. I’m going to spend this book convincing you of that fact.

Together we’ll remind each other that God is telling an important story about himself in the world. To do that, he tells important stories with our own lives. And getting to the glory of the former means getting in touch with the glory of the latter. I’ll tell you a little bit about how my own journey has helped me see my ordinary life as a storied life, a succession of days (the number unknown to me) full of wonder and insight, despite the pain and ignorance, because of the way they are driven and shaped by the glorious gospel.

Oh, sure, to get to the glory, you have to go through the chaos. We’ll talk about that too. If you’re a writer, you already know you can’t write much of anything worth much of anything without getting a little banged up, maybe a little bloody.

But we know what our Lord does with blood.

 

[1] The line is often attributed to the likes of Ernest Hemingway or Thomas Wolfe—I’ve even seen it attributed to Ray Bradbury—and while its origin is in some dispute, it most likely derives from an anecdote related to Smith, whom, it so happens, Hemingway regularly read. See Garson O’Toole, “Writing Is Easy; You Just Open a Vein and Bleed,” Quote Investigator, September 14, 2011, https://quoteinvestigator.com/2011/09/14/writing-bleed/.

__________

Editor’s Note: Taken from The Storied Life: Christian Writing as Art and Worship by Jared C. Wilson. Copyright © 2024 by Jared C. Wilson. Used by permission of Zondervan. www.harpercollinschristian.com

The Storied Life is now available wherever Christian books are sold.



Am I Out of Asks?

By / May 8

“Thank you, Lord,” I uttered when I got off the phone with my doctor. A few months before I had been diagnosed with melanoma, and a few days after the surgery, I received the welcomed news that the cancer had not spread. The Lord kindly answered my prayer.

Several weeks later I sat on our couch praising God for answering yet another specific prayer in the way we had hoped. I then moved on to pray about an additional weighty matter, but I stopped.

My sin and skepticism got the best of me, and I thought, Am I out of asks? “Oh, but God,” I muttered, “Please hear this one.” I have experienced the Lord not answering my prayer in the way I hoped, so fear unexpectedly gripped my heart as I prayed, pleaded, doubted, and as I wondered whether I had used up my asks of God.

But this is not the way our Father works. Every area of our existence is tainted by sin so that even our prayer life is replete with our brokenness. But a careful look at others in the Bible who pleaded with God reveals for us the character of God which shapes the way we ask of him.

Through Moses: Prayer Reveals God’s Relationship with His Children

Moses prays to God throughout the book of Exodus, and it is remarkable how dialogical his prayers are. They reveal a deep relationship between Moses and his Creator. On many occasions, Moses is invited into a conversation with God, and his dialogue with him, while often sequential, is also very relational. He prays, he asks, but in doing so, he desires to know more about God. He says in Exodus 33:13, “…please show me now your ways.”

There is an intimacy to his ask, and God answers his request in the next verse: “My presence will go with you” (33:14). In essence, Moses asks of God, Please let me in on your plans to experience your presence! And God answers, I will always be with you, Moses.

When we ask of God, our prayers do not function like a business transaction. Rather, when we come to the Lord with requests, we are leaning into the relationship that God desires to have with his children. He wants you to ask of him boldly and frequently because doing so strengthens your relationship with him.

God hears, he answers in his timing and according to his perfect will, and the more we talk to him, the more we understand that prayer is not just about getting what we want. Prayer is a dialogue that causes us to abide in our Savior and connect to him so much so that all he is pours out in and through us.

Through David: Prayer Reveals God’s Mercy with His Children

The way David honestly pours out his heart to God throughout the Psalms is an encouragement for believers in Jesus. His prayers express anger (Ps. 10), doubt (Ps. 13), and sometimes deep, deep sadness (Ps. 88). What is remarkable is God’s never-ending mercy and gentleness with David. Even as an adulterer and murderer, David is treated by God with kindness and patience as God inclines his ear and draws near to a man whose emotions run the gamut. What’s beautiful is that David acknowledges in Psalm 18:35 that it is the gentleness of God that has made him great. He knows the depth and significance of his Savior’s mercy through his many failings, and not only is he grateful for it, but he has learned from it.

We do not ask of a God who is harsh and volatile. The perception of God as a violent storm ready to consume those who ask too much of him is not what the Bible teaches us about his character. He is just and holy (Deut. 32:4; 1 Sam. 2:2) and deserving of our reverence, but he is also gentle and merciful, willing and wanting to carry our greatest burdens (Ps. 55:22). Mercy and justice mingle necessarily; his mercy toward his children springs forth from his justice, and we see this throughout David’s prayers in the Psalms.

Ask of your Father with honesty, child of God. He already knows the deepest longings of your heart, so there is no need to fear openness before him. Our Father is patient and merciful as we learn through our doubts and uncertainties of his matchless mercy and grace.

Through Paul: Prayer Reveals God’s Perfect Sovereignty

Paul had a thorn in his flesh, something that regularly caused him grief. I have a thorn in my flesh, an area of weakness which I regularly ask God to take away. I imagine most believers empathize with the constant, dull pangs from these thorns that we wish we could be entirely freed from.

Paul pleads with God for the thorn to be removed (2 Cor. 12:8), and you can almost sense the emotional exhaustion from his prayer. We don’t know what exactly his thorn is, but we do know that he asks for it to be taken away persistently and honestly. But God does not remove it.

Instead, he answers Paul’s ask with these words: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). Paul sees one way forward in his ministry, and that is the removal of this thing that causes him distress. But God sees a greater way forward. He leaves the thorn and lavishes on Paul his grace. Interestingly, the Apostle does not lament this; instead, he rejoices because God takes him to a place of miraculous strength and power that he would not have experienced otherwise.

There are times when God’s answer to our ask is not what we hoped for. But there is no need to fear this outcome because our Father consistently answers better than we ask. We are not the author of stories, nor should we want to be. The heart of God is such that he answers us in ways that are more stunning than we could ever imagine (Eph. 3:20). We can trust this will be the case with every prayer uttered to our Father. Ask of him. You can never ask too much, nor can you ask too many times. Your Father loves to answer your prayers with his unconditional love and incomparable glory. As his child, you are never out of asks.



Episode 262: Awesome Moms of the Bible

By / May 8

In an episode in anticipation of Mother’s Day, Jared and Ross talk about their favorite biblical moms.



25 Quotes from The Storied Life

By / May 7

My new book The Storied Life: Christian Writing as Art and Worship is now available from Zondervan Reflective. This book is for both experienced and aspiring writers — whether you write stories or sermons or even just social media posts or daily journal entries — and is designed to equip you with some nuts and bolts practicalities for better writing and to see your writing as a reflection of the One who is “writing” you!

Here are some quotes from the book to whet your creative appetite.

1. “To get to the glory, you have to go through the chaos.” (xvi)

2. “One key to powerful Christian writing is not in our trying to say something new but in our saying something old in a new way.” (17)

3. “It is one thing to say in my preaching that ‘Jesus is glorious.’ That is definitely true and it must be said. But it is another thing to preach Jesus in such a way that the hearer is led to declare in response, ‘Oh, Jesus is glorious!'” (23)

4. “It’s not always explicit gospel content that makes writing Christian, but often the worldview of the writer and, most importantly, the way the writing reflects a sense of the Divine Author’s story of the world. The content is not incidental, and there are certainly worldly ways to tell ostensibly Christian stories. But for writing to be well thought of as Christian, it must reflect The Story.” (29)

5. “Christian writers will find that to write in a way that is true, they must also give space for the incursion of the world into the attempt to subdue it. Parted waters recede. Manna spoils. Weeds shoot back up. We do not have to yield to the reality of the curse, but to write what is true, we must be honest about it. The worst Christian writing glosses over the dirt in the garden of cultivation.” (38)

6. “The story that God is telling in the world is beautiful, but it’s not always pretty.” (67)

7. “It is in the creation of art, perhaps, that image bearers most closely reflect their status as image bearers. To contemplate a blank page or a blank canvas or a lump of clay and turn that void into something articulate, resonant, to make of it something that was not there before, is akin to creation ex nihilo. When we create, we image the Creator.” (74-75)

8. “All artistic creations are innately spiritual acts.” (76)

9. “Training to read and write well is not simply about improving one’s skills. Reading and writing are formational for our improvement as persons.” (79)

10. “Whether I’m staring out the window or looking at Van Gogh’s paintings of cypresses or reading Leif Enger or John Milton or Thomas Hardy, I want to tune my internal narration to the God who has given us all of this vision and these visionaries. I realize the right disciplines can make me good, but it’s the right dreaming that can make me great.” (83)

11. “The Christian writer’s first audience is the one who has gifted him.” (87)

12. “You must see reading not just as an imperative for becoming a better writer, but for becoming the kind of writer whose life is shaped by story (and The Story).” (99)

13. “Your voice is somewhere deep in the uncharted jungle of the writing life. You must hack your way sweaty and weary to get to it.” (105)

14. “It’s never too soon to start writing, but the writer you are when you start is not the writer you will be later.” (105)

15. “For the Christian artist, finding one’s voice is not about building some Babel tower of personal distinguishment but about contributing your voice to the music of the spheres, which exists to glorify the truly distinguished Creator of all.” (111)

16. “There is a way to write about Christian doctrine that doesn’t sound very Christian at all. You could go to your local bookseller and find the books marketed to evangelicals and discover a whole range of options that read like appliance manuals. The theologian may be the smartest guy in the room, but his book is as dry as old toast. The inspirational influencer may be the peppiest gal on Instagram, but her book book reads like it was spit out by an A.I. program. It probably was.” (129-130)

17. “The writer is to love his neighbor as himself.” (132)

18. “People who say they’ve always wanted to write a book typically mean they’ve always wanted to have written a book.” (138)

19. “Nonwriters do not understand. They want the magic spell, the magic beans. But there are none. You have to put the words down on a page.” (139)

20. “Even if you do achieve amazing success, you need to remember that The Story is not about your fame, but Christ’s.” (150)

21. “Platform is a stewardship from God.” (152)

22. “One of the worst things we can do in the face of [writer’s] block is to give up. We are going to have to fight it in some way.” (161)

23. “The words don’t show up if you don’t.” (164)

24. “The stuff of our everyday lives isn’t meant to be oriented around the idol of our creativity. Rather, our creativity is meant to flavor our everyday life.” (169)

25. “The call to write is a call to see as many ways as possible that God is telling stories in the world. The call to write is a call to press deeper into The Story. And when we do, we find that we are not just being called to ‘make stuff,’ but to be made. God’s calling is in fact a storying of us.” (191)

Order The Storied Life from Zondervan or from any of your favorite book retailers.



Visible Grace in Disagreements: Willingness to Confront vs. Eagerness for Controversy

By / May 6

Editor’s Note: This post is excerpted from Visible Grace: Seeing the Church the Way Jesus Does by Caleb Batchelor. The book is available now from 10Publishing.

Paul wasn’t afraid to address sin. Just ask the Corinthians. But what first grabbed Paul’s attention when he thought about that rowdy, discriminatory congregation in Corinth? God’s visible grace (1 Cor. 1:4–9). He was willing to confront, but he was not eager for controversy. There’s a difference.

It’s all about your posture. Do you find yourself on the edge of your seat, ready to engage in the latest controversy? Or is your preference to celebrate God’s grace, ready to confront only when necessary (Prov. 15:18; 17:19)?

Jude had a preference:

Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3).

He wanted to agree, celebrating God’s grace in their “common salvation.” But he needed to confront those “who pervert the grace of our God into sensuality and deny our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ” (Jude 4).[1]

Like Jude, we shouldn’t prefer controversy—especially when it’s simply to be entertained.

I feel contempt for those who attended the gladiator games, where another’s ruin was their entertainment, where a father’s wounds were their source of glee. But then I remember a talk I heard in middle school, where the speaker compared our fascination with others’ suffering to the ancient appeal of the gladiator games. It’s convicting to think of how many times I’ve laughed about another’s sin, joked about a pastor’s blunder, and made sport of a church’s questionable ministry practice. As I scroll down my Twitter feed, I descend the steps of a modern coliseum, where another’s moral ruin is my entertainment, where a father’s spiritual wounds are my source of glee.

If you want to be countercultural today, don’t let a pastor’s moral failing or a stupid controversy fascinate you (1 Cor. 13:6; 2 Tim. 2:23). Pray. Grieve. Ask for grace. Confront when necessary. But don’t feed your curiosity with others’ sins. As the Puritan Richard Sibbes so helpfully points out, “Men must not be too curious into prying into the weaknesses of others. We should labour rather to see what they have that is for eternity, to incline our heart to love them, than unto that weakness which the Spirit of God will in time consume.”[2]

Aren’t you glad that Jesus feels burdened by your indwelling sin, rather than entertained by it? I’m thankful that my weaknesses elicit his warm compassion, not a witty Tweet.[3] Don’t you want more of that heart toward your brothers and sisters in Christ? When they disagree with you, do you “welcome [them] as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God” (Rom. 15:7; cf. Rom. 14:1–4)? When they walk in and everyone moves to the other side of the lunchroom, do you sit down next to them? When they don’t deserve love, do you show them grace?

Since you have the Spirit of Christ, you already have that inclination. The Spirit of your gentle and lowly Savior abides in you. And the result is gentleness.

__________

Citations

[1] Gavin Ortlund, Finding the Right Hills to Die On (Minneapolis: The Gospel Coalition, 2020), p. 94.

[2] Richard Sibbes, Works, 1:57.

[3] Dane Ortlund, Gentle and Lowly (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2020), pp. 69, 71.



A Word of Hope: Reflecting on Luther’s Lectures on Genesis

By / May 1

I teach church history as part of my profession. In doing so, I’ve discovered it to be exactly what my teachers described—a wonderful means of keeping the faith. Of the figures from our past who have helped me, Martin Luther stands at the top of the list, as he continually points me away from myself and onto Christ and his word of promise.

Luther’s Lectures on Genesis[1], begun arguably in 1535, serve as a window into what Luther devoted his life to—teaching the Scriptures that provided no shortage of opportunities for faith. What follows is a brief reflection on Luther’s work and the work of God recorded in Genesis.

Hope in a Paradise Lost

The cursing of Genesis 3 is a devastating read. Not knowing the rest of the story, one could easily think all is lost. Especially considering what was lost. Eden. Paradise. Perfection. It was all so right, until it all went so very wrong. The serpent had done his work.

But his work isn’t the last word. Even in the midst of their sentencing, Adam and Eve aren’t without hope. That’s the remarkable thing we learn about God only three chapters into the Bible. God punishes this man and woman. Justifiably—sin has to pay its wages. Yet, as Martin Luther reminds us, God’s words are “fatherly” words. Yes, the wonderful gift of childbirth will now be painful. The relationship between husband and wife won’t be what it once was. Now the ground is cursed. Up come the thistles and thorns, and down goes man. Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. Death has walked through the door sin opened.

But in this new paradise-lost world, Eve still has Adam, and Adam still has Eve. Humanity still has a future. The possibility of procreation remains, shameful and painful though it may be. There is still work to be done. There is still life for the living. In other words, there’s hope in the midst of judgment. After all, God doesn’t approach Adam and Eve like he does the serpent. No fatherly approach for the father of lies. There’s no kind questioning, no “where?” Or “who?” Or “why?” There’s only judgement and condemnation.

With man and woman, God clothes their shame. Adam doesn’t forsake his wife but names her “Eve.” As Luther teaches us, the naming and name is an act of prophetic hope. This woman shall be the “mother of all living.” More life and lives are to come.

Words that Promise Life

It’s easy to miss all the good that remains in the midst of the bad. The curses overwhelm. But the fact is, God doesn’t take everything, does he? Fallen world that it is, it’s still a world that’s within its Maker’s control. Beyond the fatherly kindness of keeping this marriage together, God provides the most wonderful thing of all—a promise.

In the midst of the curse, God declares, “I will put hostility between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring. He will strike your head, and you will strike his heel” (Gen 3:15, CSB). Though Adam fell, God’s pronouncement remains, “Be fruitful and multiply.” Though Eve had eaten of the forbidden fruit, she still has good fruit to bear.  Through the act of childbearing, God promises to put an end to the serpent’s schemes.

It’s a promise God gives to Adam and Eve. And in that promise lies hope. These are words of life, words that say the serpent’s word isn’t the last word, and words that remind us that the serpent’s promises can never deliver like the Lord’s. As Adam and Eve find themselves in a new, fallen reality, they don’t find themselves bereft of blessing. In this world of death, they find the promise of life.

Luther’s Word of Hope

God’s word is true, Genesis reminds us. Eating the forbidden tree does bring death. Deceived into disbelief by the serpent, Adam and Eve gave birth to the sad biblical refrain, “And he died.” But God doesn’t leave this man and woman abandoned. He gives them a promise to hold, a confidence to sustain, that just as God made all things so shall he deliver them. In a word, God gives his people hope. Hear Luther—

“God’s power makes nothing out of that which is everything, just as it makes all things out of that which is nothing. Look at Adam and Eve. They are full of sin and death. And yet, because they hear the promise concerning the Seed who will crush the serpent’s head, they have the same hope we have, namely, that death will be taken away, that sin will be abolished, and that righteousness will be restored.”[2]

Adam and Eve’s world is our world, but even more, their hope is our hope, a hope whose name we know. Jesus. “He is the Lord of the issue of death,” Luther reminds us, in that “He frees those who are overwhelmed by death, and transports them into eternal life.” Yes, we have to tell the truth. There’s death in this world. However, “even the midst of death, the hope of life is kept, since the Word so teaches, direct, and promises.”[3]

In a fallen world of judgment and condemnation, God’s word comes near to us and says, “Not all is lost. Yes, this world is broken. But it’s still my world, created by my Word. And that Word remains. And in that Word, you shall find hope.”

__________

[1] All citations from Martin Luther,  Lectures on Genesis, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan, vol.1, in Luther’s Works, American Edition (St. Louis: Concordia, 1955-76). Hereafter LW.

[2] LW 1:197.

[3] LW 1:197.

Author’s Note: Special thanks to Dr. Jason G. Duesing for his editorial insights and encouragement.



Episode 261: Books That Changed Our Minds

By / May 1

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson talk about the books that changed their minds about things big and little.



Three Key Questions to Ask Your Mormon Friends

By / Apr 29

I have a lot of friends who belong to the Church of Jesus Christ, Latter Day Saints (LDS). One I see regularly is the bishop of his ward; he regularly emphasizes, as do my other LDS friends, how we both worship Jesus, how we have a lot in common, and how we’re on the same team.

On the one hand, he has a point: we share traditionally conservative views on sexuality, we think the nuclear family is normative, and we think Sunday worship is vital to human flourishing, among other things. He’s an upstanding citizen, a kind and considerate husband, and a thoughtful father. I like him. From a purely socio-political perspective, if more people were like him, our culture might be less troubled.

On the other hand, he couldn’t be more wrong. There are dozens of significant disagreements between our worldviews.

I want to fairly call balls and strikes. The LDS church gets a lot right, but the most important things it gets wrong. Here are my three go-to questions that get to the heart of our most important differences.

1. Is Jesus a creature? 

The LDS church teaches that Jesus is a created being. Analogous to Arius the 4th century heretic who taught that “there was [a time] when the Son was not,” the LDS church teaches that Jesus was the spirit child of Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother [1], and was the firstborn of many spirit children, of whom he was the mightiest [2].

For the LDS church, all humans have a premortal existence and Heavenly Father brought Jesus into existence in a similar manner to how all humans were created. LDS theologian James Talmage writes, “Human beings generally were similarly existent in spirit state prior to their embodiment in the flesh… There is no impropriety, therefore, in speaking of Jesus Christ as the Elder Brother of the rest of mankind” [3].

This means that LDS people commit idolatry when they worship Jesus, because the version of Jesus they serve is “creature rather than Creator” (Romans 1:25). In their view, Jesus became a god in history; he wasn’t eternally God. They call him God, but he is a demigod. [4] The LDS church’s view of Jesus is far different than what the Bible teaches.

We believe what the Nicene Creed teaches: Jesus is eternally God, begotten, not made, of one substance with the Father; “the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).

2. Is Jesus’ salvation “by grace after all that you can do”?

Ephesians 2:8 says, “By grace you have been saved through faith; this is not your own doing.” 2 Nephi 25:23 says, “It is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” Who among us can with a clear conscience say that we have done all that we can do? Salvation is actually impossible under actual LDS doctrine; it requires maximum effort all the time.

In addition to the weight of justification by good works, this doctrine adds the crushing reality of salvation by good effort.

This yields us an altogether different worldview and story, but it is congruent with the larger story that the LDS church teaches. The LDS church teaches that the entirety of our mortal existence, even the creation of the earth, was Heavenly Father giving us the chance to “prove ourselves” to him [5] and, and “if we passed our tests, we would receive the fulness of joy” [6].

The true good news is that Jesus saves sinners; sinners do not save themselves.

3. Was Jesus wrong when he said, “I will build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it”?

If you meet with LDS missionaries, the first lesson they’ll tell you is about “the restoration of the gospel.” They’ll tell you about how the true gospel left the earth after the Apostles died until Joseph Smith restored it in the 1800s. [7]

This is quite different from what Jesus said in Matthew 16:18: “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Did the gates of hell prevail against the church for 1700+ years? Did Jesus fail to deposit the faith into his church? Or did the church fail to deport the true faith into the next generation?

No, the faith was successfully “once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3).

Same Words, Different Dictionary

Our LDS friends use a lot of the same vocabulary as evangelicals, like gospel, Jesus, salvation, sin, and heaven, but their understanding of those words and what they mean for us are remarkably different. Our LDS neighbors might be allies to Evangelicals in many respects, but with regard to the good news of Jesus, we are miles apart.

 

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Citations

[1] LDS Church, Gospel Topics Essays, Mother In Heaven

[2] James Talmage, Articles of Faith, Chapter 2

[3] James Talmage, Jesus the Christ, Chapter 2

[4] Gospel Principles, Exaltation

[5] Gospel Principles, Our Heavenly Family

[6] Ibid, (See also D&C 93:30–34)

[7] True To The Faith, Restoration of the Gospel