For the Church

What Makes Baptist Political Theology?

The distinctive Baptist contribution to political theology is the doctrine of religious freedom and disestablishment. You will find some mention of religious freedom in almost every chapter of this book. But why? And what does religious freedom mean for the whole body of political theology? Is it the only thing we have to say about politics?

An inner logic connects adult baptism, conversion, religious freedom, and disestablishment. Baptism is a ritual that marks the entry of a penitent person into the church community by symbolizing the washing away of sin, the death of the old self and resurrection of the new self. Such a ritual has no meaning for infants or children who have no awareness or understanding of sin, repentance, or the gospel of Jesus Christ. No one can enter the kingdom of God apart from a conscious, inward, informed turning away from sin and toward Christ—a turning that we call repentance and faith. And if people cannot enter the kingdom, they should not be counted full members of the local church, which is an embassy of the kingdom. The church should strive to have a membership made entirely of regenerate Christians, baptized adults who have made a public profession of faith and covenanted together to hold one another accountable for walking in holiness.

By the same logic, no adult can be coerced into the kingdom—or the church—at the point of the sword. Our doctrine of baptism and the church is the seed from which grows an entire panoply of implications about the state. The state may coerce someone into attending the right church, uttering the right creed, and even comporting their behavior to the appearance of outward righteousness—none of which makes the least contribution to a person’s actual salvation. We call this the doctrine of “soul competency,” the idea that each person is accountable to God for himself or herself and no other authority is ultimately able to effect another’s salvation. It is pointless for the state to use its tools, which touch outward behavior, to try to compel inward belief.

Worse, it is dangerous. The state has an educative function. When it passes laws, it habituates people to believe, even if unconsciously, that those laws reflect standards of good and evil. When the state makes laws endorsing, establishing, or regulating religion, it teaches people to rely on the state’s judgment, rather than the church’s or the words of Scripture, for their salvation. Imagine a citizen goes to church and recites a creed because the state tells him to. That citizen is at grave risk of believing he is a Christian because he is performing the appropriate deeds—without any reference at all to the saving work of Christ on the cross. State-endorsed (and, much more so, state-mandated) religion always has strong tendencies toward a religion of works. And there are further dangers, including the long history of states hijacking religion to use as propaganda for whatever political purpose the ruler has in mind. State religion cheapens religion, turning religious authorities into cheerleaders and boosters of the status quo, with all its injustices, and of whomever exercises power, regardless of what that power is used for. State religion has no prophetic witness and no independent voice.

The idea of religious freedom and disestablishment is one of the most revolutionary ideas in world history. Virtually every state in history allied with a religion or, when they banned conventional religion, invented new ones (like communism). The Baptist doctrine of religious freedom amounts to a claim that every state in history got it wrong. It would be breathtaking in its audacity, except for subsequent history in which religious freedom spread worldwide and vindicated the belief that states and churches relate best when they are institutionally and jurisdictionally separate. Every state on earth has (at least on paper) agreed to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, article 18, which affirms that “everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.”[1]

Does the Baptist political witness end there? Do we have anything else to say? In fact, religious freedom and disestablishment, as revolutionary ideas, cannot but have far-reaching consequences throughout the full range of cultural, social, and political issues. Most importantly, religious freedom and disestablishment mean the state has limited jurisdiction. There are matters over which it has no legitimate authority. Religious freedom and disestablishment are thus intrinsically opposed to totalitarianism and, at least, highly suspicious of softer forms of authoritarianism. Totalitarian government is sinful and anti-Christian by its very nature; authoritarian government with no check on its power is inherently dangerous and carries the potential for overstepping its bounds. Baptists should be the first to warn against the encroaching power of states that try to grow beyond their rightful boundaries.

That means Baptists are naturally sympathetic to forms of government that recognize their own limits, have checks on their power, and respect the religious rights of their people. That natural sympathy is reinforced by Baptists’ own practice of congregational autonomy and self-government. Baptists practice self-government among themselves, which habituates them to its rhythms in society at large. That is why, in practice and in history, Baptists are almost exclusively republicans and democrats (with a small r and a small d) who believe in some version of representative government and in civil and political rights. That is not quite the same as saying that Baptists believe the Bible mandates democracy. We respect the authority of the Bible enough to reserve our strongest conclusions for what is explicit and clear in Scripture. But for Baptists, the logic linking biblical revelation to religious freedom and congregational autonomy and, thence, to free government is simpler and stronger than for any other Christian tradition. We have always thrown in our lot with free government. Most Christian traditions in the modern era support basic civil and political rights and find biblical support for them in the idea that all humans bear God’s image and have coequal moral worth. But Baptists add our distinctive doctrine of religious freedom and disestablishment, an additional bulwark against authoritarianism and a cornerstone of free government.

This is an especially needful truth to revive today. We live amidst an upsurge in nationalist sentiment and rising authoritarian powers, which bring twin dangers to the right relationship of church and state. On the one hand, nationalism has historically almost always come tinged with religious rhetoric, religious symbolism, and even religious demagoguery. Statesmen know the power of religion, and if they can tap into that power and redirect it to themselves, they will. On the other hand, in reaction, nationalists’ opponents often blame religious institutions and religious leaders, equate religion with the political agenda they oppose, and seek to shrink, ban, or silence religion in the public square. That means religion is in danger of hijacking by one side and proscription on the other; of being used and manipulated; and of being ignored, sidelined, and neglected.

In this context the Baptist political witness is crucial. More than any other Christian tradition, we can insist on the importance of disestablishment and warn of the dangers of being co-opted by those in power—at the same time and with the same framework that we insist on the vital necessity of religious freedom and a robust and vocal Christian presence in the public square. Christians must advocate for justice, peace, and flourishing—our Lord commands it of us—which means we must be active, present, and free to believe and speak. We must also insist on the state’s limitation and the church’s independence, which means our presence in the public square is never an effort to take it over in the name of serving it.

We have traveled a great distance from the seemingly small matter of believer’s baptism. But that is the legacy of revolutionary ideas. They work their way through the architecture of ideas and recenter relationships in new ways. And the Baptist revolution in religious freedom and disestablishment—in free government and republicanism—is not done yet.

[1] United Nations, Universal Declaration of Human Rights, article 18, un.org, accessed October 27, 2022, https://www.un.org/en/about-us/universal-declaration-of-human-rights.

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Baptist Political Theology and used by permission of B&H Academic. The book is now available everywhere Christian books are sold.

Preparing for Healthy Small Group Multiplication

By Lucas Hahn / Jun 29

Most of the Scriptures come to us in the form of stories.

There are two essential marks of a great story: A great story draws you in—into the character and the plot. And a great story sends you out—you immediately want to retell it.

But it’s not just common life to be “drawn in” to a deeply significant experience and then to be “sent out” to tell others about it. It’s a beautiful pattern woven into the fabric of the great biblical Story of God making a new people.

Foundation: The Pattern of Mission

In Genesis 12, God speaks to Abram, draws him into an experience of his presence, and promises to make him a blessing to all the nations. Then the moment Abram has been drawn in, he is sent out. God says, “Go, leave your country and your people and go to the land I will show you.”

In Exodus 3, Moses is a murderer running for his life when God appears to him in a burning bush. Moses falls on his face in worship. The Lord tells him, “I have heard the cry of my people… Now go: I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.”

In Acts 13, as the church in Antioch is praying, fasting and worshiping one evening, God gives them a powerful experience of his presence. He draws them in and speaks by his Spirit: “Set apart Paul and Barnabas for me to go to where I have called you.”

Over and over again! This is the pattern of mission: He draws us in and sends us out. He draws us in to know him, and he sends us out to make him known. The gospel comes to us in order to go through us.

In the call of Abram, the pattern is clear: We are Blessed to Be a Blessing. Why does God reveal himself to us? Why does he draw us into his presence and move us to worship? Why does he surround us with loving community—as in Acts 13? God always blesses us so that we might be a blessing to others.

Now think of your own story: How has God revealed himself to you over your Christian life? How has he invited you into deeper life with him through this church? How has this community group provided life-giving friendships in Christ? Certainly, we are a blessed people!

Too often in our community groups, we want the blessing to reach us but not move through us. Our members want to each be the last ones to join a group. No one wants to be excluded from a group, but once we are in, we want to close it off. As a result, we as community group leaders need to put the biblical vision of multiplication before our people regularly.¹

Setting Expectations for Multiplication

Having discovered a biblical foundation for healthy group multiplication, we can now get to the practical steps involved in multiplying healthy, life-giving community groups.

Let’s seek to answer these questions: How do we ensure that the multiplication process is healthy? And: How do we set proper expectations for multiplication?

I recommend explicitly setting expectations for a community group’s multiplication.

1. Prioritize the spiritual and relational health of the members.

Remember, our overall goal of community life is not the total number of groups we can launch and sustain over a period of time. The goal is the formation of disciples in the image of Christ.

Thus, if we neglect our members’ spiritual and relational health—which we have been investing in for months or years prior to multiplication—during the process, we’ll win the battle and lose the war.

2. Remember: Multiplication furthers our members’ spiritual and relational health.

Teaching the three biblical foundations for multiplication is a great place to start. My “Creating Space: A Guide to Healthy Group Multiplication” appendix is a four-week discussion guide based on these foundations and includes discussion questions, guided prayers, and worksheets for your group.

3. Set a multiplication expectation at the first gathering.

This goal must be explicitly taught by the community group leaders, and it must be established from the beginning of the group—not just before a needed multiplication. For example, when launching your first group, or as soon as a new group begins, the leaders need to give a vision for multiplication and a general timeline.

The leaders could say something like, “As we start this group, we want to remember that we are seeking our own spiritual growth and the spiritual growth of others. So we’ll continue to invite people to this group, and when it reaches about 16 adults, and when new leaders are ready, we’ll slowly multiply into two groups—we expect this will happen in about 12-24 months.” You may even want to do this weekly or monthly when you review the rules of your community group.

I remember when one of our groups I worked with had been together for three or four years without multiplying. There were more than 20 adult members and maybe a dozen kids, and more groups were needed across the congregation. But the leader had never brought up multiplication before this, and when he brought it up for the first time, there was much fear and confusion and many tears. It took more than a year for this group to become ready—spiritually and relationally—to multiply.

4. Keep the mission before the people.

Group leaders should be continually reminding the members of our missionary identity in Christ. We should be frequently seeing new people joining the group—both from the church and through relationships in the community. So members will feel the growth and know multiplication is an evidence of their growth in godliness and necessary to continue to create space for new people.

5. Multiply when leaders are ready, not when you have too many people.

I’m frequently asked, “At what number of people should we multiply?” But it’s not the best metric to use for a multiplication timeline. A number of factors will determine how many adults and kids a group can have while remaining healthy and open to visitors. Some of our members’ houses can accommodate 12 adults; others can handle 30 adults. Some of our groups will need to multiply once there are about eight kids coming regularly; others can have 20 or more kids and not run into too much trouble.

But still, the number of people should not be the determining factor in when you multiply. Nothing is more important than your leaders’ readiness.

A group can be too big or too small, but with the right leaders, it will remain healthy and growing. As soon as new leaders are identified, trained, and ready, a new group can be deployed. Typically, six adults are enough to start a new group—a leader couple and four other adults.

6. Let members choose their group.

In the past, one of the mistakes I’ve made as a leader is to try to figure out which people should go with which group, and try to steer people in those directions. Instead, I think it’s a much better practice to set two options in front of your members and let them choose. Do they want to go with the new group or stay with the sending group? The church is a voluntary organization, and we should be quick to empower our people to make their own decisions—especially in terms of where they’ll spend this important discipleship time each week.

In the next article, we’ll look at how to practice and sustain healthy group multiplication over the long haul.

^{1. See Tim Keller’s sermon, “The Cost of Mission,” on Genesis 12.}

*This article is Part 6 of an eight-part series on community groups and their importance that will run this summer. Read the full series here.

What is Incomprehensibility?

By Brett Fredenberg / Jun 28

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, incomprehensibility.

Our finite human minds, apart from divine grace, are utterly incapable of knowing God as He is in Himself. Yes, God has manifested his “invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature… in the things that have been made,” such that all people “clearly perceive” His existence and cosmic creativity (Rom 1:20); and yet, “Who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?” (Rom 11:34). The rhetorical response to Paul’s famous question is clearly, “No one.”

The Creator God dwells in unapproachable light (1 Tim 6:16). His ways and His thoughts are infinitely beyond our own (Is 55:8-9). No one has ever seen Him or can see Him (John 1:18). His form, or His essence, is eternally beyond the sight of all human eyes (John 5:37). No one, apart from God Himself, is able to comprehend His thoughts (1 Cor 2:11). Thus, our agnostic friends are not entirely wrong to say that God, apart from divine self-disclosure or self-revelation, remains utterly unknowable to human minds, which brings us to the beauty and grace of both Scripture and the Gospel.

In His words (Scripture) and Word (Son), the Creator God has done the unthinkable: He has graciously condescended to the confines of finite understanding, not only in the words and images of Scripture, but in the Word that became flesh and was born for us and our salvation–the man from Nazareth, Jesus Christ [John 1:14; Heb 1:1-3]. As John says, “No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known” (1:17). Thus, as Bavinck says, “our knowledge of God does not arise from our own investigations and reflection, but because God on his part revealed himself to us in nature and history, in prophecy and miracle, by ordinary and extraordinary means.”

All of this has the effect of making the light of divine revelation shine all the brighter, for, in His words and Word, the incomprehensible God has made Himself known to us. Moreover, He has done this, not only to be grasped by human minds, but to be crucified by human hands (see Mt 27:1-50; Mk 15:1-39; Lk 23:1-39; John 19:30). Thus, the most incomprehensible thing about God—that He would send His only Son to be crucified and punished for us—is found in the Gospel itself.

For the Kids (A Conversation)

“Hey dad! Can I ask you a question about God?” “Absolutely, kiddo. What’s on your mind?”

“Well… I’m just wondering… How is it possible for us to know God? I mean, today at school we learned about stars and planets and how the universe is so big that we can’t even imagine it! My teacher even told us that the Sun is just 1 star among millions and millions of stars! And it got me thinking… If I’ve got a hard time understanding that, then how in the world am I going to wrap my head around the God who created it all? It just seems like too much to understand.”

“Well, son, first things first: that’s a really good question, and you’re actually not the first person to ask it–even among Christians!”

“Haha… that makes me feel a little better. I’m not alone after all!”

“No, son, you’re not. And remember: your God is big enough for your questions–including that one! So let me give it a shot… The reason you feel that you can’t understand God—especially if God is infinitely bigger than the universe itself—is because we actually can’t understand God on our own. Which means that if you’re having a hard time understanding God, then you’re actually onto something! He really is that big and that beautiful.”

“Wait… So does that mean we can’t ever know who God is?”

“Well, that’s where we get to the even more amazing part! You see, because God is so big, and because we are so small, God has chosen to reveal Himself to us. Which means that, instead of us climbing our way up to God, God has climbed His way down to us!”

“So… If God has climbed down to us, then where can I find Him?”

“You can find Him in the Bible and in his Son, Jesus Christ. In fact, let me read you a Bible verse that helps us better understand it all. It comes from Romans 10 and Deuteronomy 30. “Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend into heaven?’ (that is, to bring Christ down) or ‘Who will descend into the abyss?’ (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead). But what does [God’s Word] say? ‘The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart’ (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom 10:6-9).

I know that’s a lot, son, but here’s the thing you can remember: at the end of the day, you and I don’t have to climb up to heaven or dig under the earth to find God, that’s because God has come to us!”

“Wow. I hadn’t thought about it like that before.” “Neither had I, before I read the Bible!” “Thanks, dad. Now I’ve got some thinking to do!”

“Haha, you’re welcome son. Think away, just never forget to take those thoughts to God Himself!

Episode 217: Bible Teacher Pet Peeves

By Lucas Hahn / Jun 28

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson return to a listener favorite segment — “peeves” — and share some ways small group leaders, Sunday School teachers, and other Bible study teachers can improve.

He Gives To His Beloved Sleep

By Brett Fredenberg / Jun 26

It was two o’clock in the morning and my newborn was asleep in the bassinet next to me. Most of the time, a newborn sleeping is cause for celebration and slumber but on this particular night, fears about my son’s life plagued my mind. You see, a few days prior, my sweet baby was rushed by ambulance to the hospital. He had stopped breathing and passed out, seemingly inexplicably. It turns out that he had a breath holding spell. Basically, he was startled by something and his body’s fight or flight response kicked in and he held his breath. By God’s grace, he is okay and there are no long term issues because of this temporary loss of oxygen, but the picture of my three-week-old, sheet-white, in the back of an ambulance is forever burned in my brain. So at two o’clock, I could feel the trauma from the experience that was wreaking havoc on my mental and physical health. On this particular night, I was up, yet again, worried about what would happen if I went to sleep.

In God’s divine providence, I stumbled across Psalm 127. The Psalm is short so reading it just a few times was enough to commit it to memory. The first two verses are what I needed in that panicked moment and what I’ve needed in every moment of late-night anxiety since. The Psalmist says:

“Unless the LORD builds the house,

those who build it labor in vain.

Unless the LORD watches over the city,

the watchman stays awake in vain.

It is in vain that you rise up early

and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep.” (ESV)

These two verses provide us with practical hope for trusting in God. Just as the Lord is the one who builds the house and watches over the city, the Lord is the one who sustains the life of my child and yours. I remember wrestling with this reality when I brought my first baby home. I wondered “If I go to sleep, who will make sure my daughter is still breathing?” I only had two options: never sleep again, or trust the Lord to give or take her breath. In other words, trust God or pine in futility for control I don’t have. My trust in him was not rooted in whether or not he would keep her breathing, but whether I believed he was good no matter what happened while I slept.

The difference I found with my son was that although I thought I had already relinquished my need for control, when my tiny baby actually had no breath in his lungs, the reality of my inability to sustain his life hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized with tears in my eyes the truth of verse one:

Unless the Lord keeps my child alive, I labor in vain. Unless the Lord heals the illness, changes your circumstances, provides for your finances… then you labor in vain.

At first, this reality is scary. If I could control everything, then nothing would go wrong, right? It is easy to think we know better than God, but if we contemplate for a moment our own finitude, I am sure our response will be different. The control we desire is not what we really want. We don’t want the oceans to bow at our command, we don’t want to have to make the world spin. We don’t even want to solve the problem in front of us because God’s reason for that problem is truly better than the solution we would provide. [1] Even if we think we want that power in the moment, if we believe in God’s perfection, we would never trade our faulty abilities for his holy ones. Truthfully, I have the small task of making our house run smoothly and somehow I am still overwhelmed. Imagine all that would go wrong if I were in charge of everything else! God is God for a reason. He builds the house, he watches over the city. Because God does these things, the result is what we so desperately need:

“For he gives to his beloved sleep.”

So as I looked at my sweet baby and wondered about his health, obsessively Googling his breathing patterns, and working myself into an all out panic, I was reminded of Psalm 127, he gives to his beloved sleep. Rest is contingent upon trust in the Lord. I am that beloved, I am the one who eats the bread of anxious toil. But I don’t have to. We have been given the precious gift of rest as we trust in an abundantly worthy God. If you are desperate for sleep, if anxiety has kept you up, if you are eating that anxious bread day and night, come to the Lord. He is worthy of our trust. He is the Author and Sustainer and the very best news is that he cares about you. He keeps the world spinning and he gives you rest. Lean on him, for he gives to his beloved sleep.

[1] Isaiah 55:8-9, Psalm 139:6, Jeremiah 10:12

Multiplying and Planting New Small Groups

By Lucas Hahn / Jun 22

The first community group I ever led was a struggle.

We had multiplied out from another group that was not entirely healthy. The multiplication process was a bit rushed and our members didn’t feel like the previous leaders had cared well for them. As brand-new leaders, only 23 years old, we over-corrected to the previous error by over-promising our group longevity without multiplication.

I remember telling the group at our first gathering, “You don’t have to worry about multiplying. We’ll build and maintain strong relationships here.” Everyone smiled and nodded in approval. However, after about nine months, our group had grown to the capacity of our little living room, and I knew it was time to bring up the topic of multiplication again.

When I told our group very gently that we should consider multiplying to create space for new people, they revolted. I hadn’t expected them to remember my early words about not multiplying. I said, “Well, of course, we need to multiply: There’s no space here!” But they responded, “Why do we need more space? We should just close the group to outsiders. They can go to other groups!”

I suddenly realized my mistakes: I had not started the group with an expectation of multiplication, nor had I regularly reminded the members of the need to stay open to outsiders.

These errors were not minor: We then faced an uphill battle trying to shepherd the group through the conversation, and it took close to a year to get the group ready to multiply. I figured that once it was time to multiply or send out members to start a new group, we could take a few weeks to talk through it, and everything would work out. I was wrong.

As the years have passed, I have been able to lead or oversee dozens of healthy multiplications. Some were easy and some were still slow and challenging, but I’ve discovered over the years a five-step process for healthy group multiplication.

I truly believe that growth and multiplication are the results of a healthy group, and multiplication itself can be a healthy, life-giving process. Multiplying a group or sending members out to start a new one still aren’t easy or simplistic endeavors. But this process has enabled dozens of fruitful multiplications and new groups.

The Language of Multiplication

When you’re talking with your community group or your leaders about multiplication, you’ll want to choose your words carefully. Here’s what I mean: Although multiplication is a straightforward concept, some will have negative preconceived notions about it.

I’ve often found that younger members and new churches—those who haven’t been in community groups for many years—find multiplication life-giving and exciting for the first few years. If they experience these five steps for healthy multiplication, they’re likely to have a positive experience.

But once a member has been in community groups that have multiplied several times, it’s common to feel an amount of “change fatigue.” In a few years, they could have been in three groups, adapted to the styles of three different leaders, and built dozens of new relationships. (Introverts like me will especially struggle with this.) As group leaders and pastors, we shouldn’t be quick to reject the need for stability in community.

In these cases, when your members are saying they’re weary from recent multiplications, you may want to change your plan and your language. For instance, maybe instead of directly multiplying a group of 16 adults into two groups of eight, consider that same group empowering a couple to lead and open the door to anyone who wants to form a new group. Perhaps only five or six adults will “plant” the new group, but you’ve still accomplished the formation of a new group to reach more people and you’ve allowed deep relationships to remain intact.

Please understand that multiplication will always need to be done on a case-by-case basis. There is no one-size-fits-all plan for starting new groups. My best advice is to use a handful of strategies—regular multiplication, “planting” new groups off a “sending” group, and starting new groups from all new members. Especially if your church is in a season of numerical growth, you’ll almost certainly need several paths to new groups.

Your community group must understand that the goal of community is the Christ-shaped spiritual maturity of its members, not mere fellowship, fun, and friendship. The New Testament does not allow us to define fruitfulness simply by fellowship; we are called to make disciples (Matt. 28:19). And yet, at the same time, fellowship is an essential component of community group, and we have spent months or years encouraging deep relationships with our members.

So for our community groups to be healthy, multiplication must be done in a way the promotes member health, not in a way that neglects it.

Here are five steps for healthy group multiplication:

Step 1: Develop a biblical vision of healthy multiplication
Step 2: Set expectations for healthy multiplication
Step 3: Prepare for healthy multiplication
Step 4: Practice healthy multiplication
Step 5: Maintain health after multiplication

There’s a firm foundation for all of this: Our groups will be life-giving places of spiritual formation when centered on Jesus’s way of discipleship and practicing the three rhythms of discipleship in community.

In the next article, we’ll discover a biblical vision of healthy multiplication.

*This article is Part 5 of an eight-part series on community groups and their importance that will run this summer. Read the full series here.

Episode 216: Ben Connelly on Reading the Bible, but Missing the Gospel

By Lucas Hahn / Jun 21

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson visits with ministry leader and author Ben Connelly about the ways churches sometimes train believers to read their Bibles without Jesus at the center.

Getting On the Train: A Testimony of God’s Strength in Grief

By Lucas Hahn / Jun 20

On the morning of our 15-week appointment, I woke up weary. In my mind, this should have been the part of pregnancy when I could breathe a sigh of relief and think- Everything will be okay. Already in my first trimester I had confronted the possibility of a miscarriage only to embrace relief after our doctor found the flickering heartbeat a week later. At 11 weeks, we had seen our little one leap in the womb and heard the heartbeat whoosh through the stethoscope. We had been comforted by our doctor that a loss at this point would be rare. My husband and I began to share the news of our child with friends and family, and yet anxiousness nagged me. A small baby bump began to form, and yet I could not shake the feelings of worry and uncertainty.

On this morning, I felt exhausted by my own efforts to not let worry keep me from hoping. But what if…? What if something was wrong? What if our baby was unwell? As these worries built upon each other, a story I had learned about the missionary, Corrie Ten Boom, came to mind. After witnessing the death of a baby, young Corrie Ten Boom became distraught at the thought of her parents dying and leaving her. Corrie’s father knelt beside her gently and said,

“Corrie, when you and I go to Amsterdam, when do I give you the ticket?”
Sniffling, Corrie replied, “Why, just before we get on the train.”
“Exactly,” her father responded, “and our wise Father in heaven knows when we are going to need things too. Don’t run ahead of him, Corrie. When the time comes that some of us will have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need, just in time.” ¹

After reflecting on this story, I wrote this prayer in my journal that morning:

I’ve been trying to walk this fine line of being excited without being vulnerable to hope, and it is exhausting. I want to embrace a greater margin for Your comfort. Should disappointment and suffering come, I trust that You will “hand me my ticket” when the time is right.

Later, as I lay on my back while the nurse searched for a heartbeat, my worries resurfaced. “I guess we will need an ultrasound after all!” she said cheerily as she wheeled over the machine.

I was relieved—I wanted to see the hidden form of our baby anyways. I remember the ultrasound screen coming into focus. I remember searching hungrily for our leaping little one. I remember seeing our child lying quietly in the shadows of my womb, not moving. I remember everyone in the room being very still.

“I’m going to go get your doctor,” said the nurse.

As she left, I looked at my husband and saw his red-rimmed eyes. I looked away and folded my arms over my abdomen in an effort to hold what I still had. And yet, as I stared at the ceiling, eyes burning, peace reigned in my heart.

Ah, I thought. There’s the ticket.

***

I’m not quite sure what Father Ten Boom meant by “looking into our hearts” and “finding strength”. As we have walked through our miscarriage, I can only assume that he is not referring to our own strength to carry on in grief. There have been nights when I’ve prepared for bed and thought to myself—I did good today. I didn’t cry. But instantly, tears would spill over at the thought of having to carry on the same way all over again tomorrow. I am dependent on the inner workings of the Holy Spirit to mobilize me out of bed and confront the normal parts of life while grieving. What I appreciate about Father Ten Boom’s wisdom is that he teaches a lesson about the unfruitful labor of anticipating suffering.

Earlier in my pregnancy, when I first thought I was going to miscarry, I tried to plan out my response. I wanted to respond to loss like a “good Christian” and embrace all the platitudes that people would share with me and then demonstrate them towards the watching world. I would show others that I was trusting of my Father and that I would be joyful no matter the circumstances. I would protect myself from grief. There would be no reason to mourn because somehow theology or reason would strengthen me and deliver me from the brokenness of this world. Yet, in the weeks prior to the actual loss of our child, I confessed this hardness of heart to God. He showed me Matthew 5:4—

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

If we anticipate suffering, whether it be through stoicism or anxious ruminations, we refuse ourselves the margin for mourning. And if we do not mourn, how can we be comforted? The nearness and comfort of our Father is good, and it is what makes us blessed. It is the comforting closeness of our Shepherd that strengthens King David to continue walking through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4). And so it is for us. Our own strength will not meet us on the other side of being sad. Fear and worry will not protect us from needing to mourn. It is no good trying to keep ourselves from the comfort that our Father has promised us. Don’t run ahead of Him. When the time is right, He will give us the ticket.

He will give us Himself.

He is the ticket.

^{1. Ten Boom, Corrie. The Hiding Place. Chosen Books, 2006.}

How Small Groups Can Embrace Fellowship and Hospitality

By Lucas Hahn / Jun 15

As Christians, we should recognize that discipleship should happen in community.

Remember, we can only grow as Jesus shaped disciples in community. We can’t do this alone. We have been created in the image of a Trinitarian God—he has eternally existed in community. To be fully alive then, we must pursue Christ in the context of committed relationships. In the previous article, I described two rhythms of life-giving community groups: Word and prayer

If there is a fundamental need to have a place of belonging in our lives, then our community groups could be the primary place of Christian formation and maturation. But it’s not enough to just be in a community group, we have to do life together.

The Rhythm of Fellowship—Connecting with One Another

The rhythm of fellowship is the habit of gathering together, welcoming one another into our lives, and genuinely caring for each other. Before we even open the Scriptures or pray or evangelize, we should join ourselves to a likeminded, Christ centered community—if we want to follow Jesus’s pattern.

Fellowship is the context for the other practices—Word and prayer, and hospitality. In my experience, a group that struggles with this rhythm will always struggle with the other two. But if a community group truly embraces life together, they have a much better chance of seeing transformation through living the Word, meeting with God in prayer, and creating space for outsiders.

So what might this look like?

In my current community group, we gather every Wednesday evening and about one Saturday each month. But the group isn’t a meeting time or place, it is truly a family.

First Wednesday: Meet at our house for fellowship, Scripture discussion, and prayer
Second Wednesday: Meet at our house to spend time together as a group
Third Wednesday: Meet at our house for fellowship, Scripture discussion, and prayer
Saturday: Go to a local park for a hike and then lunch together
Fourth Wednesday: Ladies meet at a local ice cream store for fellowship and accountability, men stay at our house and talk while playing with the kids

This type of schedule fits our people well, and gives us the opportunities to build relationships and reach outsiders. For example, the second Wednesday would be the ideal time to invite a family from the neighborhood. At my middle son’s fifth birthday recently, we invited our next-door neighbors (who also have young children) to come celebrate with us. They had never accepted an invitation to visit our group previously, but our kid’s birthday party was an easy first step for them. They have since joined us on other evenings and attended a Sunday gathering with us as well!

These exact gatherings may not fit your people and context. You may not be able to meet weekly, or you might be able to do all three of the rhythms each week. Once you know your people and those you are trying to reach, adapt your gathering times to make the most of these three rhythms each month.

The Rhythm of Hospitality—Connecting with Outsiders

When we look at the gospels, we discover that Jesus is the model of hospitality. Jesus’ public ministry began with his miracle at Cana—turning barrels of water into wine at a wedding. He spent his time eating with “sinners and tax collectors,” receiving gifts from marginalized women, encouraging widows, playing with children, and attending all major cultural events and parties.

Even though he didn’t own a home, Jesus was the most hospitable man to ever live. How is this possible?

Meals with Jesus

In the gospel of Matthew, the author says, “The Son of Man came…” How would we finish that question? Would we say, “The Son of Man came preaching and teaching”? Or perhaps, “healing and casting out demons”? Or maybe, “establishing his kingdom”?

Matthew writes, “The Son of Man came eating and drinking” (Matthew 11:19).

Jesus seems to be eating throughout all four gospel narratives. Consider examples from Luke alone:

Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners at Levi’s house (Luke 5).

Jesus is anointed at the home of a Pharisee during a meal (Luke 7).

Jesus feeds five thousand people (Luke 9).

Jesus eats in the home of Mary and Martha (Luke 10).

Jesus condemns the Pharisees and religious leaders over a meal (Luke 11).

Jesus urges people to invite the poor to their meals, not just their friends (Luke 14).

Jesus invites himself to dinner with Zacchaeus (Luke 19).

Jesus gathers his disciples in the upper room for the Last Supper (Luke 22).

Jesus, risen from the grave, asks for a plate of fish (Luke 24).

One commentator notes, “Jesus is either going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal.” Another scholar jokes Jesus “eats his way through the gospels.”¹

Jesus’s meals are full of significance. Few acts are more expressive of friendship and acceptance than a shared meal. In every culture, meals are a form of hospitality—regardless of whose house you’re at. In fact, our English word “companion” comes from two Latin words meaning “bread” and “together.”²

Why are Jesus’s meals, then, so significant? Jesus’s meals are physical demonstrations of the grace he offers to the outsider. Jesus creates space for outsiders and identifies with them by sharing a meal with them.

Creating Space for Outsiders

What is hospitality? It’s the distinctly Christian practice of creating space for outsiders. Hospitality, in a biblical sense, includes:

Creating space in our homes for our brothers and sisters in Christ

Creating space in our schedules and hearts for those who don’t know the Lord

Creating space in our groups for our neighbors and co-workers

Creating space in our lives for the poor and marginalized

Creating space in our city for people to be broken, vulnerable and genuine

Just as Christ came to us who were once outsiders, so the Church can open its heart and doors to those who don’t know him. As one Christian author put it:

Hospitality in Practice

Let’s pause now and consider our own stories. At one point, we were all visitors to a church and didn’t know more than a person or two. How might our lives be different at this point if no one had invited us in and given us a “place at the table”?

Every one of us has been the recipient of the hospitality of others, and now we extend that same hospitable spirit to the next generation of church visitors—and to our own neighbors, co-workers, and friends.

This vision of hospitality is more than mere entertainment of course. Entertaining—putting out our best food, showing off our home, and inviting our most attractive guests—puts the focus on us. Hospitality, on the other hand, puts the focus on another meal—the eternal feast.

When we invite our neighbors over for dinner, when we take time to join our coworkers for lunch or “happy hour,” or when we offer a cold drink to a stranger, we are demonstrating the grace of God to one another.

Meals serve us in several ways: They nourish us, slow us down, allow for conversation, and build bridges with others.

But to think of it another way: Jesus’s meals weren’t just for something else. Everything else—life, work, family, suffering, everything—was for a meal with Jesus. In other words, all of human history, from creation to the cross to the new creation, happened so that we might have eternal communion with Christ.

In the next article, we’ll begin looking at how these discipleship rhythms can naturally lead to healthy, sustainable group planting and multiplication.

^{1. See Tim Chester, A Meal with Jesus: Discovering Grace, Community and Mission Around the Table.}
^{2. Chester, A Meal with Jesus.}
^{3. Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out.}

*This article is Part 4 of an eight-part series on community groups and their importance that will run this summer. Read the full series here.

What is Realism?

By Brett Fredenberg / Jun 14

Broadly speaking, realism is the position that universals are real. What follows appears to be a change of subject but, be assured, it is not! It is conceivable that these words are being read on a smartphone. It could also be assumed that this smartphone belongs to the reader and is not their neighbor’s or their great aunt’s. The three smartphones are different. These are what philosophers call particulars. They are not the same smartphone. However, all these particulars share a certain abstract pattern such that they are all referred to as “smartphones” rather than gerbils or cupcakes. These smartphones all have screens, apps, cameras, and such. They also share in patterns with things that are not smartphones. In this example there are three smartphones. “Threeness” is a pattern shared by a trilogy of books or the number of divine persons in the Godhead. Smartphones are, roughly, rectangular. They share this “rectangularity” with most books, postcards, and photographs. These abstract patterns are what philosophers call universals or forms or essences.

These universals can be mentally isolated from particulars. “Rectangularity” can be abstracted from the particular smartphone or book which is ignored. “Threeness” can be abstracted from the particular trilogy. These abstractions can only be interacted with mentally. Three itself cannot be perceived except in three particular books, say, or a particular numeral like “3” or “III” which denotes “three”. Destroy those symbols or take away the books and the universal of “three” still exists in some way just without those tangible examples.

The big question is in what sense, if at all, do these universals exist? Realism is an answer to this question which says that they exist independently of, yet are discoverable by, human minds. Realism itself is a relatively recent term but it emerges from a tradition that extends back to Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Aquinas, and endures through the Reformation. The details as to where and how these universals exist is a distinct, and by no means uncomplicated, question. However, within this realist group there is a strong and unifying motif of transcendence.

Nominalism, by contrast, is the belief that universals are nothing but names attributed to resemblances by human minds. So-called “universals”, says the nominalist, are words devised as placeholders or useful contrivances. There is no such objective thing as “red” but rather only a resemblance between this red card and that red flag that is designated “red” by contingent linguistic convention. Speaking of red flags, in this view there is little room for objective “goodness”, “truth” or “beauty”. Nor is there an objective “human nature” for the second person of the trinity to assume at the incarnation.

The obvious question is why the term “red” has been applied to red appearing things other than that the color red is what they have in common and the inquirer is back to the existence of a universal. The nominalist may seek to avoid this issue by suggesting that it is some other resemblance being perceived rather than a universal color. In this case “resemblance” itself has become a universal and there seems to be no way to escape an infinite regress.

Propositions are also universals. “The sky is blue” and “el cielo es azul” both describe the same propositional truth but in different languages. Likewise, “that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures” and, “Que Cristo fué muerto por nuestros pecados conforme á las Escrituras.” The phrases deploy different vocabulary but the distinct proposition to which those languages point is one. Without some overlap in meaning tethered to external referents translation between languages would be impossible. Likewise, when English and Spanish speakers reflect on the blueness of the sky or the death of Christ for sins they are, it seems, considering the same things. There little sense in suggesting, in lieu of propositions, that there is one blueness of the sky and one death of Christ for sins for English speakers and another for Spanish speakers and yet another for Japanese speakers and so on.

For the Kids

My own children are of an age that they can enjoy the book Are you my mother? It’s about a bird who hatches while his mother is away collecting food. The baby, alarmed at being alone, goes off looking for her. The problem is, having just hatched, he doesn’t know what she looks like! The readers know better of course but the bird approaches, among other things, a cow, a kitten and a tractor and asks, “are you my mother?”

Sometimes looking for God can be like that. You might have in mind a bearded fellow in the sky. Maybe he’s behind Jupiter. Perhaps he’s so vast that we are within his body in some way. A man from North Africa, called Augustine, made a discovery that God is not like that. He made this discovery after reading that he ought to look for ultimate truth, or God, in non-physical places beyond creation. In his Confessions, a book he wrote later in life, Augustine tells the story about the time he realized God was not somewhere in the same way that you and I are somewhere. I am in my home. Perhaps you are in yours. Augustine realized that the things that are somewhere, the created things around us, point to the uncreated God who is the unchanging source of all the changeable things he creates and sustains.[1]

[1] Augustine, Confessions 7.20.