Jonathan Leeman on Church Discipline

FTC.co asks Jonathan Leeman, editorial director for 9Marks,”What do most Christians not know about church discipline?”



Even Tolkien Felt Like a Failure

One time J.R.R. Tolkien wrote a short story to help him process his own frustration with work. The story, Leaf by Niggle, was about an artist who had been commissioned to paint a mural on the side of city hall. Niggle spent the rest of his career attempting to complete that mural, a large and colorful tree that would inspire for years to come. But in the end, the artist was only able to eek out one, single leaf.

And then he died.

On the train to heaven, Niggle saw a vague, but familiar, image in the distance. He asked the conductor to immediately stop the train. When Niggle got off he approached the object and discovered that it was a tree—his tree—complete and lovelier than he had ever imagined. And there, in the middle of the tree, was his contribution—Niggle’s leaf for the whole world to see. In the end, Niggle discovered that all of it, the tree and even his single leaf, was a glorious, completed gift.

Tolkien wrote Leaf by Niggle as a way to process his frustration with another work of his, one that he had spent years creating but was convinced would never be completed or appreciated by anyone. The name of that frustrating work was Lord of the Rings.

If only Tolkien had known then what we know now about his “unsuccessful” work. And if only we knew now what we will one day know about our own work and how it fits into God’s overall plan to save and heal the world.

In those moments when you are tempted to stop pressing on and to give up, in those moments when you might be tempted to use the word “just” about your work—”I’m just an accountant, just a stay at home parent, just a musician without a label, just a landscaper, just a clerk, just a pastor…”—I encourage you to visit, and then revisit, the story of Leaf by Niggle. I encourage you to consider not only the past but also the future, where the significance of your life’s work, which may seem like only a leaf or two, will be revealed as an essential part of the tree that God will place right in the middle of his City—the great Tree of Life, which will be for the healing of the nations (Revelation 22:2).

Although it is sometimes hard to believe that your work, done for God’s glory, has enduring significance, it absolutely does. In their book, Every Good Endeavor, Tim Keller and Katherine Alsdorf do a tremendous job of explaining the significance of Niggle’s leaf and how it relates to our present stories:

“There really is a tree. Whatever you are seeking in your work—the city of justice and peace, the world of brilliance and beauty, the story, the order, the healing, it is there. There is a God, there is a future healed world that He will bring about and your work is showing it (in part) to others. Your work will only be partially successful on your best days, in bringing that world about. But inevitably, that whole tree that you see—the beauty, the harmony, justice, comfort, joy and community—will come to fruition. If you know all this, you will not be despondent that you can only get a leaf or two out of this life. You will work with satisfaction and joy.”

These comments help me see that my work, whether I recognize it or not—whether anyone else recognizes it or not—fits in God’s overarching plan.

Scripture promises, “No eye has seen, no ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9). It also promises that the good work he has begun in us, every good work—whether it be the work of becoming more like Jesus in our character, or the work of painting just a leaf when we dream of a tree—will be completed. The God who is Creator and Restorer and Architect and Builder of his great city—will be faithful to complete that work (Philippians 1:6). And as he completes that work, he will also look toward us through the finished work of Jesus and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23).

The work you do now will go on into eternity. It’s a leaf on the Creator’s tree.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at scottsauls.com



Episode 207: FTC Mailbag

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson dip back into the mailbag to answer your questions on Christian life and ministry. This week we cover when to inform congregations of a pastor’s theological shift, whether pastors should ever turn off their phone, whether husbands should confess their porn struggle with their wives, handing ministries off to a new generation, and more.



Encourage Discouraged Pastors

There are plenty of pastors with generous smiles on their faces each Sunday who, deep down, are very disheartened.

Pastoring a church is hard work. For one thing, it is usually thankless. I know there are some churches that seem to remember their pastors with such fanfare, but most do not ever esteem them. They don’t work for just the members ultimately, so they can get over it, but never hearing those words, “Thanks for what you do, pastor,” is discouraging. But you can remedy this one, can’t you? Perhaps right now is the best time to write that email or note, or to make a phone call.

Some pastors get discouraged because their people expect a Dr. Internationally Known Mountain, when what they really are stuck with is only Brother Molehill. Expectations are at an all time high in these days of exceptional media coverage. Every pastor is happy when a member listens to sermons every day, but he knows he doesn’t measure up to the gifted pastors these people hear most of the time.

Some are discouraged because they are physically worn out. It just takes a few sensitive members to help him remedy this problem by pulling him away from normal tasks for a break. A member who makes special efforts to show love to his or her pastors will never be forgotten. I used to have a man who took me to lunch each week just to talk. He would usually say something to encourage me and even slip me a $20 bill. He helped me immensely to keep perspective. Perhaps you can pull your pastor away for that fishing trip or golf outing. Such things are like a drink of cool water on a dry, dusty day. Paul said of Philemon, “You’ve often refreshed me.” Be like that.

Some are discouraged because they cannot resolve long-standing conflicts in the church. Churches have conflicts because they have people. Even the early churches had them. But pastors take these very hard, and long for conflict resolution.

Well, there may be other reasons pastors are discouraged. They aren’t perfect and can even bring more on themselves than is dealt to them by the church’s health.

What can you do? Perhaps more than anything else, just become your pastor’s friend. Friendship has a healing aspect to it. Open your home and care for them. Think of the pastor’s wife and kids. They need you also. I doubt that you could possible know what intentional love can do for those God has, in his providence, put over you in the Lord. Do what friends do—take them extra vegetables from the garden, invite them along for your trip to the Mexican restaurant in town, buy that scarf that you think the pastor’s wife will like. You’re not buying friendship, but nourishing it.

“Let them do this [the management of the church] with joy and not with grief, for this would be unprofitable to you,” the writer of Hebrews said. But I know you church members pretty well. When you get to thinking about it, you can do some amazing things for the pastors God has given you. Get started right now.

“Esteem them highly in love.”

Editor’s note: This article was originally published at ccwtoday.org



Anxious for Nothing

Addressing the Worry I Can’t Explain

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was about forty-five minutes from preaching the closing session of the seminary’s annual student conference. Sitting in my office and scrolling through my phone while listening to the session before mine on the livestream, I suddenly felt something very wrong.

My heart rate began to surge. I had the overwhelming sensation of my body “shutting down.” I felt internally as though I was seizing up and was about to die. Beginning to panic, I decided I needed to exit my office and enter a public area where I might access help. I thought I might be having a heart attack.

Sitting down on a couch in the foyer, I signaled security that I was in distress. EMTs arrived, stretcher in tow. After being examined, I opted not to go to the hospital. My wife came to get me and took me home, and the next day we went to see the doctor.

Blood was drawn. My heart was scanned. My personal and family history was scoured.

It was determined I had not suffered a heart attack. The diagnosis? Anxiety-induced panic attack.

This was not a total surprise to me, as I’ve been experiencing sporadic “flashes” of panic over the last six or seven years, always while driving. I’d never suffered an attack outside that context, and it didn’t feel quite the same. It felt more severe. I’d never felt before that I needed emergency services or that I was about to die. Now I’ve learned that this thing has been building, and it can strike any time.

Part of me wished they had found something else. Something they could go in and take out. Something they could “clean up” or fix. Instead I have . . . anxiety. Even when I don’t feel particularly nervous about anything.

“What were you doing when it happened?” people keep asking.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just sitting there.”

“Were you nervous about speaking?”

“No.”

“Were you agitated about something?”

“No. I was literally just sitting at my desk, killing time.”

I am literally “anxious for nothing.”

I have had people throw Bible verses my way, none of which have I been unfamiliar with. The top recommendation is of course Philippians 4:6-7: “Don’t worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

But it’s not that kind of anxiety. I am not worrying about any particular thing. People tell me, “Just don’t worry,” and I just say “Okay.”

And while it can feel helpless to contemplate whatever is going on inside of me, I am not helpless to address it the best I can. Here are three things I’m reminding myself in this new season of being anxious for nothing:

1. I Can Adopt Healthier Habits

It is very likely that this vague anxiety is the result of ten straight years of full-throttle work and ministry without an extended break. I do rest when I can, but it is never sustained and probably not enough to help my body recover from my work schedule. And it’s been very tempting while busy to become lazy in other areas, like diet and exercise, for instance.

It’s quite possible that my body is, as they say, “keeping the score.” So I’ve committed to a more regular day off each week, to a stricter diet, and to more vigorous exercise. Worst of all, I’ve cut out caffeine! No more quad-shot lattes each morning.

I might not be able to ward off all panic attacks this way, but I can try to offset them. Maybe given enough time, I can actually retrain my system to soothe itself. I can’t control everything, but I can be a better steward of what God has given me (1 Corinthians 9:27).

2. I Can Stop Saying Yes to Everything

I like to please people. I’d like to think that most of my speaking engagements are the result of wanting to be used maximally by God in the time I’ve been given. The reality is that there are probably some that are simply owed to my reluctance to disappoint anyone.

Billy Graham was once asked about regrets from his long journey of faithful ministry. Among his answers he mentioned saying yes to too may invitations. That was convicting to me.

But it’s not just speaking invites. It’s lots of other things too. I have to be very vigilant about my calendar, because I do not see an empty day as a chance for rest and recreation but as a place to schedule another appointment.

It’s the odd malady of our age where have all this technology and convenience to give us more free time, but we’re busier than ever. I can repent of people-pleasing and FOMO (“fear of missing out”) and take the risk of saying “no” more often.

3. I Can Cast My Vague Cares Upon God

It’s good that God’s peace “surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7), because my anxiety surpasses my understanding too! But I don’t have to know the ins and outs of my condition to trust God with it. I don’t have to know just when the next panic attack will strike. I tell myself that it’s enough that God does. And I can trust Him with all the knowledge He omnisciently possesses.

You don’t have to understand all your cares to cast them on God (1 Peter 5:7). You just need to know He cares for you. He doesn’t love some idealized version of you. He really loves the broken, weird, messed-up you.

I’m not depressed, but I have been. I’ve known the dark shadow that cannot be explained, against which sentimental advice and inspirational pick-me-ups can’t prevail. It is easy to think in such circumstances that you’ve been forgotten or forsaken.

You may not comprehend all that’s happening to you, but you can remind yourself of the purposes of the One working it toward your eventual good. That’s what I’m going to do with my “anxious nothings”—ask God to take them away and believe that, even if He doesn’t, He is still good, still here, still actively working in my life to complete my joy and glorify Himself.



Don Whitney on the Gospel in Spiritual Disciplines

FTC.co asks Dr. Don Whitney, Professor of Biblical Spirituality at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, “How is the gospel connected to the daily effort in the spiritual disciplines?”



To My Friends Who Are No Longer Friends With Jesus

To my friends who are no longer friends with Jesus: I want you to know that if I am aware of you walking away from Jesus, I have prayed for you and even cried for you. A couple of years ago I was reading The Last Battle from C.S. Lewis’s “The Chronicles of Narnia” to our kids. I came across a passage that took my breath away and filled my eyes with tears. Tirian, the last king of Narnia, is meeting the former kings and queens of Narnia:

    ‘Sir,’ said Tirian, when he had greeted all these. ‘If I have read the chronicle aright, there should be another. Has not your Majesty two sisters? Where is Queen Susan?’

    ‘My sister Susan,’ answered Peter shortly and gravely, ‘is no longer a friend of Narnia.’

    ‘Yes,’ said Eustace, ‘and whenever you’ve tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says, ‘What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.’

The reason I got a lump in my throat and then looked at my wife Melanie and saw that we were both tearing up is because we were thinking of you, friends. Walking away from Jesus is not child’s play. At the end of The Last Battle, it is revealed that there has been a crash and the kings and queens are in heaven. They are safe, eternally. Susan is not. But there is still time.

It seemed that you used to be friends with Jesus. You sang to him, you read his Word, you prayed to him, you talked about him with me.

Only God, and maybe you, know if that faith was genuine. But I do know this: the Jesus you used to confess with your lips is the same Jesus who can save you today. It doesn’t matter if it has been years or months of walking away from him, Jesus died and rose again not to make it possible for us to earn our way back to God, but to bring us to God. He will still do that for you if you will come to him.

You are not the first disciples of Jesus to deny Jesus. Do you remember Peter, one of Jesus’s closest disciples and friends? He denied Jesus three times, when Jesus most needed someone to come alongside of him and stand up for him.

Decades later Peter wrote in 1 Peter 5:8-9, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.” It has never been easy to be a Christian. What stood true two thousand years ago stands true today: there is a great enemy of your soul.

Peter knew that Satan is active in the world today, and he didn’t just think of the devil like a roaring lion. It’s like Peter was remembering how he had felt that enemy breathing down his neck on the night that he denied Jesus.

But there is someone else described like a lion in the Bible, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Jesus is the One who was promised to come and save us. He came and represented God to us as holy and righteous and yet as willing and ready and able to forgive for when we have failed him.

Precious Words of Promise

Some of the most precious words in the Bible are at the end of the Gospel of Mark. After Jesus has risen from the dead, the angel tells the women at the tomb, “…go, tell his disciples and Peter…” (Mark 16:7)

The other disciples had failed too. They had also said they would follow Jesus all of the way. But only one of them, John, stood at the cross at the end. God made sure they all received the message of Jesus’s resurrection— “Go tell the disciples…” But he also put this nugget of grace on the angel’s lips: “…AND Peter.” Peter was a disciple. But God was already moving towards Peter specifically in his specific sin, preparing his heart for restoration.

I don’t know what God has been doing in your lives recently. But reading this article is a start. There is some reason you clicked on it.

When Peter denied Jesus, Jesus looked at him. If you sense the Lord looking at you right now, you have two choices.

You can try to run from the gaze of Jesus just like Adam and Eve tried to run from the eyes of God. Or you can run to the gaze of Jesus and see that there is forgiveness and acceptance and restoration in his eyes.

This is what Peter experienced when the resurrected Jesus came to them later, when Peter had gone back to fishing. When Jesus appeared on the shore, Peter didn’t hold back. Peter couldn’t wait to be near Jesus again. He couldn’t wait for the boat to get to the shore. Peter jumped into the water to go towards Jesus.

He didn’t walk on the water this time; he simply threw himself into the water to get to Jesus. That may be what repentance looks like for you, what coming back to God looks like for you. Just throwing yourself towards Jesus.

If you do that, I know that Jesus will be waiting for you. Jesus himself promised it and sealed it with his redeeming blood: “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.” (John 6:37)

Friends, if you come back to Jesus, he will welcome you home as his friends, now and for eternity. I hope to see you there.



Episode 206: What We Wish We’d Known in Our 20’s

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and his wife Becky talk about the heart and vision behind their first book together, Go Outside . . . and 19 Other Keys to Thriving in Your 20’s, available this May from Moody Publishers.



On the third day He rose again — A Sonnet for Easter

In the mornings this year I’ve been re-reading a fourth century masterpiece.

While Athanasius’s On the Incarnation is remarkable, it was C. S. Lewis who termed it a ‘masterpiece’ in his famous introduction to a new English translation of Athanasius’s work.

As I read through the chapters of De Incarnatione Verbi Dei, I started summarizing each of the fifty-seven sections in my own words and soon realized the helpfulness of this exercise.

Reading this old book has served to accomplish for me what C. S. Lewis hoped it would. Lewis advised, then in 1944, that in an era of modern controversies and division within Christianity “the only palliative is to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds, and this can be done only by reading old books.”

In specific, Lewis had in mind books that put forth a “standard of plain, central Christianity which puts the controversies of the moment in their proper perspective.” Even though it is now 2020 and we are not facing the same controversies of 1944, Lewis’s commending the reading of On the Incarnation does, indeed, put our controversies in perspective.

My reflection led me to another thought: could I condense and conform my thoughts on Athanasius’s work into a poem to summarize what I had gained? As only a poetry-appreciator, not a poet, I set out to learn more about form and structure and settled on a simple sonnet.

The sonnet, I learned, allows for poems with musicality but also to be read in silence. The 14-line structure and rhyming patterns function “like a box” and since sonnets are often meant to focus on a person, I thought it a good form to follow for a poem on the incarnation of Christ.

The result of my reflections on this “old book” was, first, a sonnet for Advent, and now the following sonnet for Easter.** Thanks to C. S. Lewis, it has helped me to keep this remarkable year in proper perspective.

 

**Working from my summaries of Athanasius’s last five chapters, I sought to structure the three quatrains around each chapter, with the last focusing on the last three. I created a spreadsheet to aid in building each of the 14 lines in iambic pentameter and around a specific rhyming sequence and then edited to final form.

For further reading:

  • Athanasius, On the Incarnation: the treatise De incarnatione Verbi Dei, translated and edited by a religious of C.S.M.V. (Centenary Press, 1944).
  • C. S. Lewis, “Introduction,” in Athanasius, On the Incarnation (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1996).
  • Peter Barnes, Athanasius of Alexandria: His Life & Impact (Christian Focus, 2019).
  • Rachel Richardson, “Learning the Sonnet,” Poetry Foundation, August 29, 2013.

 

* This article was originally published at jgduesing.com



Jeff Dodge on Theological Training and Intellectualism

 

FTC.co asks Jeff Dodge, teaching pastor at Veritas Church, “How do you keep theological training from becoming intellectualism?​”