What You Need to Know About the Seder Meal and Passover

By / Apr 6

As Holy Week approaches, many Christians and churches will begin thinking more intently about Passover. The final days of Jesus’ life coincide with the Jewish festival, and the New Testament unabashedly describes him as the “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29). It is no mistake to associate the crucifixion with this festival established long ago, but how do we teach and preach about Passover? The most ready answer would seem to focus on Exodus 12, where the Lord gives Moses the commands regarding Passover. In fact, this is the longest and most descript passage regarding the Passover in the Bible. However, in recent times, many have found this passage to be insufficient for understanding the festival, turning to the Jewish tradition of the Seder meal as the source for understanding the Passover.

What is the Seder Meal?

For those unfamiliar with the term, the Passover Seder (from the Hebrew word for “order”) is a traditional Jewish meal that function as the centerpiece of the Jewish celebration of Passover. The meal is comprised of a complex series of steps with symbolic significance retelling the Jewish departure from Egypt. The famous Seder plate includes multiple items:

– a cooked egg symbolizing new life and associated with the festival in ancient times
– a green vegetable signifying Israel’s growth in Egypt
– a fruit paste symbolizing the mortar for building projects while in Egypt
– bitter herbs symbolizing the suffering of slavery
– a lamb bone symbolizing the sacrificial lamb

The lengthy liturgy (Haggadah) and symbolic meal (Seder) rehearsed in the Seder served to illustrate and teach the Jewish people about their heritage from ancient times. The instructions include a time where the sons ask their father questions about what makes the Passover night different, succeeding in carrying out the Old Testament instruction for fathers to teach their children about the exodus (Ex. 12:26, 13:6, 14; Deut. 6:12). But where did the tradition originate?

The Origins of the Seder Meal

The first recorded instruction regarding the Passover Seder is found in Mishnah Pesachim 10, a Rabbinical Jewish text likely composed during the 2nd or 3rd century AD. While there is little doubt that the Rabbinic Mishnah tractate reveals a tradition that goes back earlier than the 2nd or 3rd century, reconstructing the Mishnah’s place in early Judaism in fraught with challenges. Taking the Old Testament at face value, the Jews had been celebrating the feast of Passover for centuries (based upon the description found in Exodus 12). This conclusion is supported by the lack of reference to the Seder by early sources like the Book of Jubilees, Philo, and Josephus. In his decisive work on the topic, Jewish scholar Baruch Bokser argues that the Seder tradition is older than the Mishnah tractate but not earlier than the destruction of the temple in AD 70 (The Origins of the Seder [Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1984]). Commenting on Bokser’s conclusion, Jonathan Klawan writes, “It’s not that rabbinic literature cannot be trusted to tell us about history in the first century of the Common Era. It’s that rabbinic literature—in the case of the Seder—does not even claim to be telling us how the Seder was performed before the destruction of the Temple” (“Was Jesus’ Last Supper a Seder?” Biblical History Daily, Biblical Archaeology Society). The Seder meal was an important part of Diaspora Judaism at an early date, but it is highly debated as to whether or not it reflects a pre-destruction era of Jewish tradition.

Was the Last Supper a Seder Meal?

Given the later development of the Seder meal, it is unlikely that Jesus’ last meal with his disciples was a Seder meal. Some have highlighted a few parallels between the Gospel accounts and the Seder tradition, but none prove the case. They are brief textual allusions, not recitations of the tradition encountered in the Mishnah. If we read the Gospel accounts of the last week of Christ harmoniously, it is evident that the final meal, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus occur around the celebration of Passover—a historical and theological reality that highlights the nature and design of the atonement. Regardless of whether the Last Supper was indeed a Passover meal or a normal meal on an earlier day, the origin of the Seder tradition makes it historically unlikely that this meal was carried out in the Rabbinic tradition laid out in the Mishnah.

As we think about the final week of Jesus, the significance of his death, and the role Passover plays in the Gospel narrative, these historical realities should shape the way we think and teach. While the Seder meal was an instructive ritual illustrating the Jewish story of liberation from Egypt, it was likely not the way our Lord celebrated Passover. It is quite possible that by the time of the New Testament, traditions and additions to the text of Exodus 12 had grown up around the festival. However, if we want to understand the divine design of Passover, we are better off looking to the words of Moses. The biblical foundation of the Passover tradition begins in Exodus and finds its fulfillment in a new exodus established for God’s people by a final Passover lamb. Our reflections upon Passover should never stray from the New Testament truth stated so powerfully by the Apostle Paul, “For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed” (1 Cor. 5:7). We cherish Israel’s Passover because, by it, we come to know our own.



The Gospel Never Does Nothing

By / Apr 6

Christ who is the content of the gospel leaves no one in a neutral state.[1]

—Herman Bavinck

The one thing the gospel never does is nothing. Under the preaching of the gospel, no one remains the same. We are either moving closer to God or further from him. No one remains neutral. No one remains unchanged. We soften, or we harden.

Encountering Jesus is a life-altering event every time it happens. His word is always fresh. Even if we believe we know it, because he is God, his word is not returning void. Every time it is spoken, something happens. We fall in love with him, or we grow to despise him. We lean in, or we turn away. In every church meeting every Sunday morning, there is a massive movement in the hearts of people all over the world because of the gospel of Christ. Because Christ is the gospel, when we hear his word, we hear him, and when we hear him, we either fall down before him, or we run the other way. The one thing we don’t do is nothing.

It’s not always easy to perceive this movement. Perhaps we notice the leaning in more than the turning away. Yes, we can sprint in the other direction, but that’s not how it works for most of us. It’s more like drifting away at sea. The waves of doubt take us out. The depths of sin call us away. We move inch by inch, and we don’t see it until we’re further than we ever imagined we’d be.

Just as we can drift away, we can also inch closer. When Jesus melts our heart again and again, when his gospel surprises us with its grace and mercy, when we feel his love, and keep letting his love come into our heart, we step closer to him.

The one thing the gospel never does is nothing. No one remains in a neutral state.

God is in control of all things. He is sovereign. But he does ask us to believe him. Our only part in the gospel is our response to it. We either accept it or deny it. We either open our arms or cross them. We run toward or away. But we cannot stand motionless.

The good news of the gospel, of course, is that even if we jump a ship to Tarsus like our old friend Jonah, and even if a great fish swallows us up after we are thrown overboard, there is still hope. God still hears our cries in the deep, dark places of the stormiest sea. The gospel never does nothing, and because of that, there is always hope of redemption, even as there is always the danger of drifting away.

As long as Jesus is on this throne, as long as the Spirit blows like the wind wherever it will, as long as God is still a Father, there is hope. As we continually expose ourself to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and as we just open our empty hands before him, we can trust that he will do his work. He will not leave us as we are. He will increase our joy. He will soften our sorrows. He will heal our wounds. He will, if he must, even cause the fish to get sick and spit us upon his shores to witness his redemption.

God works in ways we can’t understand. The one thing we can be sure of, always, is that he works. He never does nothing. That’s good news.

[1] Herman Bavinck, The Wonderful Works of God: Instruction on the Christian Religion according to the Reformed Confession(Glenside, PA: Westminster Seminary Press, 2019), 399.

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



A Reflection on “The Sower’s Song” by Andrew Peterson

By / Apr 6
As you celebrate Holy Week and prepare for Easter Sunday, I pray this reflection on “The Sower’s Song” by Andrew Peterson helps you cherish the beauty of the resurrection and the immeasurable hope we have in Christ.

Have you ever summited a mountain at sunrise? Felt your heart swell with longing and hope at the appearance of green after a long winter? Been overwhelmed with love?

That is how I feel listening to “The Sower’s Song” by Andrew Peterson. 

Peterson is a well-known wordsmith in Christianity. The Lord has gifted him a passion for sharing the power of truth, beauty, and goodness in Scripture and the arts. Thousands of believers will listen to Peterson’s Resurrection Letters albums in preparation for Easter this year, and his song “Is He Worthy?” is enjoyed globally by congregations every week.  Though he has authored multiple award-winning books, teaches classes on writing, and founded a nonprofit ministry for Christians in the arts, my first exposure to Peterson was his 2015 album The Burning Edge of Dawn.

Listening through the album, I was immediately captivated by how beautifully he weaves together truth-filled words of praise, lament, thanksgiving, and prayer. (And sometimes all within the same piece.) As it always is with the best songwriters, Peterson does not simply sing songs. He is a storyteller who paints worlds with his words. 

Amidst my early years of college and Christianity, Peterson’s lyrics provided a safe place to feel and reflect with the Lord. Enjoying that music while spending time in God’s Word became a regular rhythm of grace during that season. Then, one day, what had become just another part of my routine yielded a remarkable moment with the Lord that still impacts me today.

When I arrived at the last song on The Burning Edge of Dawn, I was not paying much attention. My mind was swirling with lingering guilt from an argument earlier in the week. I was trying to figure out how to afford the next semester of school, battling depression, and struggling to stay on top of all my relational and logistical responsibilities.

Suddenly, the first verses cut through the chaos:

Oh God, I am furrowed like the field
Torn open like the dirt
And I know that to be healed
That I must be broken first
I am aching for the yield
That You will harvest from this hurt

The words disarmed me. This gentle acknowledgment of brokenness and ache stilled my internal spiral, calming my mind as my soul listened to the truth of God’s sovereignty over pain. As I continued to listen, the prayer shaped by John 15:1-10 became my own:

Abide in me
Let these branches bear Your fruit
Abide in me, Lord
Let Your Word take root
Remove in me
The branch that bears no fruit
And move in me, Lord
As I abide in You

Tears began to spill from my closed eyes. Suddenly, I was there—staring “at the bright edge of the garden, at the golden edge of dawn, at the glowing edge of spring.” Even surrounded by the darkness of this present world, hope that every sad thing will come untrue blossomed in my chest.

Two minutes in, I was on my knees. The Lord saved me by opening my eyes to the beauty of the gospel through reading the Book of Isaiah. As Peterson sang the promises written in Isaiah 55:10-13, I felt the joy of my salvation renewed: 

As the rain and the snow fall
Down from the sky
And they don’t return but they water the earth and bring they forth life
Giving seed to the sower, bread for the hunger
So shall the word of the Lord be with a sound like thunder
And it will not return, it will not return void
We shall be led in peace
And go out with joy
And the hills before us
Will raise their voices
And the trees of the field will clap their hands as the land rejoices

Truth warmed my soul like a fire illumining the room of a weary traveler. I already believed, but the Lord helped my unbelief. The surpassing worth of knowing Jesus overwhelmed me, and there was no doubt:

The tomb that once held the body of Christ broken on my behalf is empty.

The dawn of spring shouted a tangible reminder that the King who brings life from death rose and will return. The crescendoing melody wrapped around me:

And instead of the thorn now
The cypress towers
And instead of the briar the myrtle blooms with a thousand flowers
And it will make a name
Make a name for our God
A sign everlasting that will never be cut off
As the earth brings forth sprouts from the seed
What is sown in the garden grows into a mighty tree
So the Lord plants justice, justice and praise
To rise before the nations till the end of days

Listening to “The Sower’s Song” brought a powerful moment of clarity to my spiritual life. God’s Word proclaimed in Peterson’s song washed cobwebs from my walk with Jesus and refocused my desire to be a faithful ambassador of this coming Kingdom. Every April since then, as I watch the frost melt from new buds of life, the lyrics play through my mind: 

It [God’s Word] will not return void
We shall be led in peace
And go out with joy

Whatever season you are in, I encourage you to reflect on these words in Isaiah. Marvel at God’s holiness in the throneroom of Isaiah 6. Be emboldened by the promise of God’s presence to the repentant in Isaiah 43. Behold the suffering Messiah foretold in Isaiah 53—the Lamb who was “pierced for our transgressions” and “crushed for our iniquities.” Sing with joy at Christ’s accomplishment of present justification and that you are sealed by the promised Holy Spirit for future glory.

Yes, the pain is real. But the promises are true.

Beloved, the face of Jesus will shine with such glory we will no longer need sunlight. His nail-pierced hand will wipe every tear from the eyes of his Bride. Our redeemed bodies will stand in the presence of the Prince of Peace, delighting in His majesty as death dies. Then the Sower of every flourishing promise will dwell with us for all eternity.

As you walk through the darkness, know the dawn will come. As you bear the thorn, remember the branches will bear fruit. As you feel the ache, trust that God is sowing seeds of grace even in your pain.

And the Sower leads us.



Episode 205: Daniel Darling on The Characters of Easter

By / Apr 5

On this special Easter week episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson interviews author and professor Daniel Darling about the message of Easter as seen through the various witnesses to Christ’s resurrection.



The Layered Path to God: Finding God in Truth, Goodness, and Beauty

By / Apr 4

The path to God is singular (i.e., Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life [see John 14:6]), but it is also layered. In fact, does not that famous passage—John 14:6—bear witness to the path’s layered-ness? Jesus is one Person in whom all three realities—Way, Truth, and Life—consist. When it comes to Jesus, there is therefore a unity-within-diversity and diversity-within-unity.

Three Stubborn Realities

Following the footsteps of Plato and Aristotle, many of the wisest philosophers and theologians have orbited their thoughts and writing around the ‘three Transcendentals’ of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. Though some [almost entirely modern] thinkers have tried to abandon such categories as relics of an old age, these three metaphysical Rascals keep showing up to the party. You can drag them through the mud of your modern philosophical assumptions (and presumptions), you can treat them as if they don’t exist, or you can blithely shrug at the fact that they do exist, and still, one fact remains: Truth, Goodness, and Beauty stand at the door and knock.

Longing for Embodiment

In Acts 17, the apostle Paul proclaims the good news of Jesus Christ to an incredibly diverse crowd of thinkers in the city of Athens. Among this crowd are Stoic and Epicurean philosophers (Acts 17:8), whose ancient philosophical ideas have made a (not-so-surprising) comeback among today’s public intellectuals.1 Smack-dab in the middle of this 1st-century TED talk, Paul says that God providentially places all peoples within their given localities “so that they might seek God, and perhaps… reach out and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:27). Soon after, he concludes his talk by doing what Christians have done ever since: calls people to repent of their sins and trust in Jesus for eternal salvation (Acts 17:30-31).

So, God is not far from you, right now, even as you sit and read this article. More than that, He’s calling you to “reach out and find Him.” He wants you to take hold of all that He is for you in Christ Jesus. He wants you to trust, in your heart of hearts, that Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life; that He is the fullest embodiment of what those philosophers and theologians haven’t been able to run from; that he is Truth, Goodness, and Beauty “in human form” (Philippians 4:7).

For Those Who Are Lost (Non-believers)

You’ve heard echoes of the God who is Goodness, Beauty, and Truth, haven’t you? The echoes might have been faint, but even so, they’ve been unmistakably, and even hauntingly, there. In the fruity and bittersweet taste of morning coffee that leaves you feeling calm and collected (Goodness); in a sunrise or sunset that seems to beckon you upward and onward to Something in the beyond itself (Beauty); in the delightful book that leaves you pondering the deep and mysterious things of life, things which you know are there, even if you can’t see them (Truth).

Or maybe you’ve heard the echoes in the minor keys of your life. Maybe it was in the devastating loss of a young child (which cried out for Goodness); or the ugliness of a long-and-drawn-out divorce (which cried out for Beauty); or the falsehood of a lying “friend” or co-worker you once trusted (which cried out for Truth). What you experienced in these moments was not a sense of divine Fullness but a sense of the world’s emptiness, maybe even your own emptiness. These minor keys in your life have created an acute sense of absence in your heart and mind.

What I want to suggest is that, in all of these moments, moments of delightful Fullness and vacuous emptiness, the Lord Jesus Christ is inviting you to fall into His loving embrace. Out of his own Fullness, he is calling, “Come to me and receive more than you could ever imagine,” and in the darker moments of your own emptiness, he is saying, “Come to me and be filled until you are full and overflowing.” So, the ultimate question is: will you lay down your defenses and come to the One who is infinitely Good, Beautiful, and True? Will you enter His rest?

For Those Who Are Found (Believers)

If you are a Christian, then the same God who is Goodness, Beauty, and Truth has already drawn you to Himself by the very same means. Was it not your experience that the faint echoes of transcendence, at some point in your life, gave way to the full Melodies of “Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2)? And did you not receive Him with the empty hands of faith? If so, then you are now a new creation, walking in the midst of an age that is both old and passing away (see Galatians 1:4, 6:15).

And so here’s the trick: don’t forget about those echoes. Don’t forget the fact that God has called you out of evil, ugliness, and falsehood into his own Truth, Goodness, and Beauty (cf 1 Peter 2:9). In fact, the echoes of these things were the very means by which God awakened your dead and dying heart to resurrection Life. Furthermore, in Christ, every last echo you’ve experienced of these things in our fallen world will one day be redeemed and restored in the new heavens and new earth (Revelation 21:1-5). Thus, “God [will bring] everything together in Christ, both things in heaven and things on earth in him” (Ephesians 1:10).

There’s only one path to God, to be sure, but never forget: the path is layered with Truth, Goodness, and Beauty.

1 One thinks of the neuroscientist and philosopher Sam Harris, whose app Waking Up, resounds with Stoic and Epicurean philosophical thought.

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



Pastors Are Paid to Stare Out the Window

By / Apr 3

But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.
— Acts 6:4

Our modern contexts for ministry demand so much from a pastor in the way of strategy, administration, organization, and the like—and our ongoing Covid season is demanding even more—that it only exacerbates the sense among many ministers of estrangement from the fundamental stuff of shepherding. Our churches and our cultures expect pastors to be creative public speakers and entrepreneurial leaders, but the essence of pastoral ministry is simply this: prayer and ministry of the Word.

In his book Working the Angles, Eugene Peterson illustrated the tension this way: “A misnaming replaces ‘pastor’s study’ with ‘office,’ thereby further secularizing perceptions of pastoral work. How many pastors no longer come to their desks as places for learning but as operation centers for organizing projects? The change of vocabulary is not harmless. Words have ways of shaping us. If we walk into a room labeled ‘office’ often enough we end up doing office work. First we change the word, then the word changes us.”

I had an elder once challenge me about the same signage on my door. The placard I had inherited read “Office.” I took his advice and replaced it with an Amazon-ordered sign that read “Pastor’s Study.” I wanted to be reminded—and I wanted my people to be reminded—that they pay me, actually, to read, learn, contemplate, reflect, to be still, to be quiet, to be solitarily devotional, and above all to be prayerful.

This does not mean neglecting the pasture work that is also required of the pastorate. Peter exhorts elders to “shepherd the flock of God that is among them,” by which I take him to mean that faithful pastors are actually active among their flocks. But I do think it means pushing against the insecurity about pastoral work not being “real work,” rejecting the insinuations (even if just assumed) that the pastor “only works one day a week.” They actually pay you, pastor, to read and pray. Assuming they do pay you, they pay you to pursue a Christward affection in personal study and devotion.

It’s the sweetest gig in the world, isn’t it? I tell my students, “Right now, you are paying us to study the Bible. But one day there will be a great reversal. We will soon enough pay you to study the Bible.” Won’t that be a glorious privilege?

Churchfolk, expect and encourage your leaders to tend to their intellectual and spiritual development. We want them to be brimming with Bible. It is for their and our good that they do. Pastoral ministry is more art than science, and as such, it requires deeply thinking and deeply formed people to carry it out. And deeply thinking and deeply formed people dive deep into ancient wisdom, push deep into intimate prayer, probe deep into their own souls, wage deep war with their sin. We want them not to become sick with hurry and drowning in the anxiety of productivity and efficiency. That only infects us with the same. We want them to stare out the window and think. That’s what we pay them for, and that’s what will pay off for us in the long run.



Episode 204: The Jesus Revolution Movie

By / Mar 29

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson discuss the new Christian film “Jesus Revolution.” Did Ross love it? Did Jared hate it? And what implications might it have for ministry and church life today?



How to Respond to Deconstructionist Social Media

By / Mar 28

Last week, a young adult I pastor came into my office to ask about something he’d seen. It was a video of a deconstructionist influencer on TikTok “proving” that the Gospels are unreliable. He wanted to know what I thought. The video had shaken his faith. Videos on social media like these have millions to hundreds of millions of views. If you pastor younger generations, you’re likely already aware of this new reality. If you’re not, welcome.

The thought of those in our ministries being drawn away by a stranger through a screen is gut-wrenching. As I’ve talked with friends who pastor junior high through college-age students, many feel daunted by this new trend. “We’re only with them a few hours a week, these accounts are available to them all day every day!” “Should we start accounts where we combat these videos?”

What is a pastor to do? How do we who’ve been charged with shepherding younger generations respond to this new reality and the threat it poses to those in our care? Before I try to answer that, let me first tell you what the answer is not.

As much as we might feel the need to, the response is not to go on TikTok or Instagram and watch every video we can find to know all the gauntlets being thrown. One reason is because the sheer amount of content out there is just too much for any pastor to try and get a hand on. To try to do so will only exhaust and discourage us. While some familiarity with the posts is wise, too much focus on them will distract us from who truly needs it—our students and young adults. Rather than the trend, they must command our attention.

Moreover, focusing on the content isn’t the right response because the questions being asked aren’t new. Sure, there are new angles and implications because of the new realities of our day–like LGBTQ+ issues; but the foundational questions underneath every point being raised by Exvangelical, deconstructionist, or atheist influencers are ones the Church has been asked and answered for nearly 2,000 years. It’s the medium that’s new, not the questions. The Church has a treasure trove of answers in its attic. We just need to open it up and familiarize ourselves with them.

At the same time, while old answers are what we have, new ways of putting them are what we need. Pastors should seek fresh presentations of old answers to fresh spins on old questions. Thankfully, we have contemporary resources just for that. There are plenty out there that you can find via YouTube or TikTok. These resources are a great help to both pastors and students because they answer the questions being raised in ways that most resonate with our context.

All of that being said, I strongly believe that familiarizing ourselves with the available resources is only secondary work. Worth a measured dose of our time? Absolutely! The most vital response we should have? Not by a long shot.

A Tried and True Response

So, what should we do? I want to propose the blueprint Paul gives in 1 Thessalonians 2:8:

“We cared so much for you that we were pleased to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives, because you had become dear to us.”

This latest Christian-adverse social media trend is tricky to deal with, but I am convinced that the primary response must be life-on-life discipleship. What this moment demands of pastors of younger generations is that we keep doing what pastors have done since the dawn of the church. In our teaching, across coffee tables, at In-N-Out, by hospital beds, on drives home from youth group, we give the gospel and we give our own selves. The “answer,” as it has always been, is life-on-life discipleship.

Why is this the particular solution to deconstructionist social media? Because we have something the influencer on a device doesn’t: physical proximity. This means we have the unique opportunity to validate the truth of our words by our lives, to offer a front row seat to the gospel enfleshed in us. Through intentional, life-on-life discipleship, we let our lives verify the gospel.

This was Paul’s strategy. Multiple times in his letters he appeals to his in-person life among those he ministered to as the validating criteria of the gospel he shared with them (Acts 20:18; 1 Corinthians 2:1-5, 2 Corinthians 1-12, 2 Thessalonians 3:7-10). That’s exactly what he does next in 1 Thessalonians 2. Right before and right after he tells them he loved them so much he shared not only the gospel but his very self with them (v.8), he says:

“For we never used flattering speech, as you know, or had greedy motives  — God is our witness  —  and we didn’t seek glory from people, either from you or from others. Although we could have been a burden as Christ’s apostles, instead we were gentle among you, as a nurse nurtures her own children…For you remember our labor and hardship, brothers and sisters. Working night and day so that we would not burden any of you, we preached God’s gospel to you. You are witnesses, and so is God, of how devoutly, righteously, and blamelessly we conducted ourselves with you believers. As you know, like a father with his own children, we encouraged, comforted, and implored each one of you to walk worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.” (‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭2‬:5-7, ‭9‬-‭12‬)‬‬‬‬‬

Paul viewed and pointed to his tangible, in-person living among the Thessalonians as the case-in-point evidence for the genuineness of his love for them and the reliability of the gospel he had shared with him.

The same is true for pastors today. Life-on-life discipleship remains our authenticating witness to the gospel–and the effects are salvific. That’s exactly why Paul exhorts Timothy to “pay close attention to your life and your teaching.” Because, “in doing this you will save both yourself and your hearers” (1 Timothy 4:16). A pastor’s life among his people is the greatest apologetic he has for the Word he teaches, and by it people are brought to and kept in the faith. But in order for that to happen we must step off the stage and out of the office and get around our people so that our lives can be seen.

What is needed of pastors today amidst a rising tide of anti-gospel social media content? Answer our students’/young adults’ questions. Resource them. Train them to defend the faith. But above all else, share with them the glorious gospel of the grace of God and your very own self through run-of-the-mill, every day, your life on their life discipleship. That is the primary way pastors must respond to this latest challenge to our students’ and young adults’ faith.

Our More Compelling Witness

Here are just a couple of ways of doing this that my wife and I have tried and seen fruit from that you could easily start doing this this week:

1. Make space for students/young adults to pose the questions they and others have. This could be in a teaching series, but I think the most fertile ground for this is less from a stage and more so while sitting at a table. Here’s how I’ve tried to practice this: After our Sunday night gatherings, our young adults ministry goes, without fail, to In-N-Out. While we’re there, I will occasionally ask what TikToks they’ve seen lately that run counter to Christian teaching or what’s a question their friends have about Christianity. After they tell me, I ask them what they make of it, how they would respond, and then I give my own response or affirm theirs. These conversations assure them it’s ok to ask good questions, while also opening a door for good answers to be given to the questions they’ve come across.

2. Invite your students/young adults into your home/family life. Not only is this an incredibly vulnerable practice in our privatized culture in the West which is compelling in itself, but it also lets them see that the life you lead doesn’t vary depending on the turf you’re on. By demonstrating you are the same person everywhere, you adorn the gospel (Titus 2:10) with a validity the influencer on their phone simply can’t. What’s more, this act of vulnerability may give them the courage to ask questions they might feel less confident to ask in a group setting. But maybe most importantly, what better way to give yourself to them than to make space for them in your home/family life? This can look a million different ways. You can invite a student to help you get the heavy thing your wife bought off Facebook Marketplace. Your wife can invite a young lady over to help with the kids or in the garden. You can invite students to come watch your daughter’s soccer game with your family. The possibilities for opening our home/family life to students and young adults and the fruit that will come from doing so are endless.

So pastor, be encouraged. As your young people watch you handle the word and live it out by the Spirit’s power; as you invite them into your home where they see how you care for your wife and kids; as you show up at soccer matches and swim meets and dance recitals; as you do late night TacoBell runs after small group; as you make space across coffee tables for honest questions; as you invite them to go on a grocery run with you; as you hold them in hospital ICU rooms as their worst nightmare is unfolding before them, the validity of the gospel they’ve heard from you will be confirmed. Your life-on-life discipleship of those in your charge is the more compelling witness the Spirit will use to save and grow and keep them. You don’t need a social media presence. You don’t need a clever strategy. You just need to be around them. That will be your greatest and most Spirit-laden apologetic against which no question can stand.



Midlife, Christ Is

By / Mar 27

I turn 48 this year, loosely ensconced in my middle age years, on the downhill slope to 50. I’ve thought a lot about this season of life, primarily from the standpoint of committing to passing the baton and investing in the Church’s younger generations. But I’ve also thought a lot about the peculiarities of this season of life, how for many it holds such uneasiness and insecurity. I’ve thought about the so-called “midlife crisis.” I used to think it was a weird thing that (mostly) men in their middle ages feel suddenly drawn to sports cars and career reinventions and (worst of all) trading in their wives for younger models. These things have become midlife cliches.

I still think that phenomenon is a weird thing, but I think I understand it a bit better now. Midlife brings new insecurities and awakenings to long-dormant regrets. Many of us face empty nests and the prospect of, in effect, starting over with spouses we’ve only related to for so long as co-parents rather than as partners or friends. Many of us face the reality of aging parents and any fears or worries or responsibilities that come with that. And of course we daily face the reality of lost youth, waning strength, more difficult processes for maintaining health. Time moves a lot faster the older you get. That’s a cliche too, but it’s true.

By God’s grace, I don’t feel the need to buy a sports car or to make a career change or to blow up my marriage. But I do think a lot about the distant past and the quickly approaching future. And I don’t know how anybody handles these things without walking with Jesus.

In midlife, Christ is a consolation for all the things I wish I’d done differently. He doesn’t change my past, but he can redeem it. And I’ve discovered he is faithful to do that. He does not judge me by my actions but by his own, freely given to me in love.

In midlife, Christ is a companion through all the worries and stresses. I’ve gotten more serious about my health over the last year and a half, and while I have no illusions about having the strength and energy I did at 25, I have no doubts that my friend Jesus is as strong as he’s ever been, and wherever I have to go, I know he will go with me. There is no partner like the King of the Universe who will never leave me or forsake me.

In midlife, Christ is a constant encourager. His Spirit has been bearing fruit in my life all along, and the longer I walk with him, the further down the narrow road I wander, the sweeter I find him, and the more precious. As so much is wasting away — including myself, day by day — his renewing presence sustains me, cheers me. I cannot imagine getting old without the daily newness of his mercies.

And I can’t imagine dying without him. Or, actually, I can. And that idea makes me increasingly happy that I know I won’t.

I would think I should be more sanctified by now! But I am grateful that the One who began the work in me will be faithful to complete it. That glorious truth is the only real antidote to the potential crises of middle age.

If you’re on the front side of middle age, I encourage you to begin investing in your friendship with Jesus now. Don’t put off communion with Christ. He’ll still be there, waiting for you, if you do — assuming you even make it to middle age. But imagine yourself in those days of thinning hair, stubborn paunch, creaky bones and joints, callouses of hand and scars of heart, having walked closely for years and years with the Savior. It will make the middle age something to savor.



When There is Pain in Childbearing

By / Mar 23

After too many hours of labor and multiple complications, I finally heard the most beautiful sound of my newborn boy’s cries for the first time. After the doctor, my husband was the first to hold our son, as I was sewn back together post cesarean section. As many new mothers, my heart was exploding with worship and gratitude over the gift of a safe delivery and healthy child. Yet there was a thought that I have not been able to escape from that day on: It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

When Eve, the Mother of All Living, was cursed as a result of sin in Genesis 3, God said to her:

“I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing;
in pain you shall bring forth children.”

Biological mothers everywhere know a version of this pain, even if they were spared some of it through medication. Labor hurts. Not to mention, hundreds of thousands of women around the globe still die every year in childbirth. Physically bringing a baby into the world involves pain. We know this. Yet while “pain in childbearing” is not less than labor pains and life-threatening births, it is more than that.

Every woman, young or old, biological mother or not, experiences the curse of pain in childbearing.

Infertility. Miscarriage. Debilitating pregnancy symptoms. Complications during pregnancy. Contractions. Painful breastfeeding efforts. Failed adoptions. Menstrual pain. Menopausal pain. Disobedient toddlers. Wayward teenage and adult children. These examples just scratch the surface of the sufferings of women that can be categorized as “pain in childbearing.”

When we experience this pain in childbearing (and if you’re a woman, you have and you will), what do we do with it? Let’s allow the grief to drive us to these truths:

1) It’s not supposed to be this way.

While my unplanned c-section was a very minor suffering compared to others, my sense of it being somehow “wrong” was not unfounded. God designed women to be able to deliver children in a particular way. Because of the fall, sometimes women’s bodies don’t work the way they should. Mine didn’t, and that’s something to be grieved.

It is not only okay to acknowledge when things aren’t the way they should be– it is good and right. Doing so orients us to the beauty of God’s original design and to the hideous brokenness that sin has wrought. When we experience pain in childbearing, we ought to remember the curse and grieve the sin that caused it.

2) Our pain points us to Christ, the serpent-crusher.

The good news is that the story doesn’t end with grief. In this very same passage of Genesis 3, we see what scholars call the protoevangelium– the first gospel proclamation. Just before the curse of the woman we see it in the curse of the serpent:

“I will put enmity between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and her offspring;
he shall bruise your head,
and you shall bruise his heel.”

In God’s kindness, though it is through much pain, women do still bear children. More than that, we see in this curse a promise that one day a woman would have an offspring that would bruise (in other translations, crush) the head of the serpent. The Christian’s New Covenant lens allows us to see that this woman was Mary, daughter of Eve, who brought forth Jesus, the Serpent-Crusher himself, through much pain in her childbearing.

Our pain in childbearing is tied to the gospel. As we grieve things not being the way they are supposed to be, we can remember the hope that Jesus gives. Even in the moment of cursing it was promised that he, the seed of the woman, would come to deliver us. He has come, and he will come again.

3) It is worth it.

This is something mothers hear and say often, rightly so. But it’s not only worth it for the woman who successfully conceives and delivers a healthy baby. It’s not only worth it for the mom who is fortunate enough to see all her grown children happy, healthy, and walking with the Lord. We must believe the suffering is worth it for the mom who lost her baby in the third trimester. We must believe the suffering is worth it for the woman who always desperately wanted to be an earthly mother but was never married as she wished, or was infertile, or who had too many miscarriages for her heart to handle. We must believe the suffering is worth it because Christ is our prize.

While in our suffering we may not get clear answers to our “why” questions in this life, we can trust that God has good purposes for us in it. As Paul says in Romans 5, “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame.” Our suffering, whether we get the earthly blessing of a healthy, God-fearing child or not, is never wasted.

Pain in childbearing will continue to be felt by all women everywhere until the Kingdom comes. Let’s grieve sin when this pain comes, put our hope in Christ, and remember that for the believer, no suffering is ever wasted.