By gsutton / Sep 7
On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson talk about the discipleship of children, from family worship tips to church engagement and beyond.
Gospel-Centered Resources from Midwestern Seminary
On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson talk about the discipleship of children, from family worship tips to church engagement and beyond.
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” – 2 Corinthians 4:16
There is a precious book my daughter loves to have read to her, titled, The Lines on Nana’s Face, by Simona Ciraolo. It is a beautiful story that follows a little girl who asks her grandmother about every wrinkle on her face. The grandmother responds, not perhaps with the horror we might expect in having one’s multitude of wrinkles pointed out, but with delight in retelling stories from her past; of the joy, grief, sacrifice, and anxiety that led to the lines that now cross her aged face. It is full of beautiful illustrations and one of the most compelling books on the beauty of aging.
For aging is beautiful. On the one hand, aging is difficult, it carries with it its own sufferings: our aging body that seems to slowly betray us, forgetfulness, pain, illness, and the harsh reality that we are mortal. But on the other, for Christians, aging carries a promise. Aging reminds us of the contrasting reality of our finite bodies that hold eternal souls. As our hair grays and lines cover our features we do not lose heart, because our inner self is an inverse of this outward decay. Our outward self deteriorate, yes, but as it does, our inner self is growing in maturity, wisdom, holiness, and nearing the day we get to see our Savior face-to-face.
Just as Death has lost its sting, so aging has lost its ability to cheat us. We may momentarily lose loved ones or abilities, our outward self will waste away; but it is only a momentary loss, and as the Holy Spirit renews us day by day, our inward lives are strengthened, more robust and alive. Even as our flesh decays and we are nothing but bones in the ground, this is but a temporary reality. Because the grave is indeed swallowed up in Christ’s victory. We are laid to rest, yet we will rise again with bodies imperishable.
Perhaps your graying hair and wrinkles do not remind you of joy-filled memories but regret and tragedy. Nonetheless, in Christ, even those memories can be a source of joy, as they are evidence of the Lord’s work in your life to bring you to today wherein he makes you more like himself and less like the person of your past. Whether aging brings us out of suffering or into it, Christ is with us, and in the process of purifying us. By looking at the lines in our own face and remembering who we were in contrast to who we are today, we can see his work, like threads in a tapestry.
If this is true, Christians ought to in many ways celebrate aging. We ought to revere the elderly, and delight in hearing stories of their past that we might glean wisdom from them. We ought to embrace our gray hair as a crown of glory (Proverbs 16:31). We ought to look at the lines in our own face and remember the goodness of God throughout our life. Above all, we ought to face the grave–and all the aches and illness along the way–with hope, not fear, knowing that death is not the final victor.
In knowing that we will have victory over death, that one day our aged, earthly bodies will be transformed into immortal heavenly ones, we can look differently at our own graying hairs, and drooping skin. Instead of seeing gray hairs as curses or threats, we can see instead, evidence of the Lord’s sovereign care, as we are reminded that he lets not a hair fall–nor gray–apart from his will. We can allow the reality of our age to unfold on our features with joy, acknowledging God’s goodness in our life. We can use up our bodies laboring for the gospel, and let them show the signs of a life lived, not in pursuit of the fleeting beauty of youth, but in service to others for a kingdom that will never end.
As we observe our outer selves wasting away, we should not despair, nor long for the past, but with gratitude recognize the gift of the present the Lord has brought us to, and eagerly anticipate our future with him. May we let our face be traced with lines, and tell younger generations the stories that are evidenced on our bodies. How our gray hair is is evidence of the Lord’s sustaining work in our lives; how our crow’s feet are evidence of joy in the presence of the Lord; how the creases between our brow exist because we have studied God’s Word with persistence; how frown lines may have found their place through suffering, but a suffering that was always accompanied with the comfort of Christ. May we embrace our age as evidence of God’s goodness to us. May we not lose heart as our outer body wastes away, because we know that God keeps his promise to renew us day by day.
In a now-classic article on “The Country Parson,” Manhattanite pastor Tim Keller, wrote:
Young pastors or seminarians often ask me for advice on what kind of early ministry experience to seek in order to best grow in skill and wisdom as a pastor. They often are surprised when I tell them to consider being a ‘country parson’ — namely, the solo pastor of a small church, many or most of which are in non-urban settings. Let me quickly emphasize the word ‘consider.’ I would never insist that everyone must follow this path. Nevertheless, it is worth thinking about. It was great for me . . .
. . . Some will be surprised to hear me say this, since they know my emphasis on ministry in the city. Yes, I believe firmly that the evangelical church has neglected the city. It still is difficult to get Christians and Christian leaders to make the sacrifices necessary to live their lives out in cities. However, the disdain many people have for urban areas is no worse than the condescending attitudes many have toward small towns and small churches.
I have left out some meat in order to include the gist, so you should definitely go read the whole thing. Keller is touching on something huge here, this “disdain,” which really manifests itself in neglect and discrimination. This is on huge display in a 2009 Time Magazine article on the decline of rural churches. The article talks about young pastors reluctant to go to a place where there’s no Starbucks, and even of older pastors and mentors telling these young guys they are too talented or too creative to pastor in small or rural towns. You know, because those places are “wastes of time.”
I can’t think of sentiments more antithetical to real ministry.
When I left a three year old church plant in suburban Nashville to assume the pastorate of a 200+ year-old church in rural New England, a close friend of mine said, “You’re going to kill your career.” He was just (sort of) joking, of course, but it wasn’t the first time I’d hear something like that. (I should mention that since making that move, my “career” — if by that one means writing/speaking opportunities — actually increased.) But I told him, flatly, “Good.” The day I begin thinking of ministry as a career is the day my ministry career begins to be a big fat pile of FAIL. By God’s grace, I am what I am and do what I do, and this means going where I’m called and hoping he increases, not me.
We’re supposed to decrease, you know?
I am glad more and more pastors are planting churches in urban and surburban. Every place needs churches, and more of them in the gospel-centered variety especially. But count me in the fandom of all the guys nailing Starbucks and the corner pub and shopping malls and public transportation to the cross and going to plant and pastor where you’re more likely to hear a cow moo than a car honk. Country folk are real folk. And they need the gospel too. Especially in areas like New England, which has been the “new” American mission field for a long time now.
The Northeast, now officially the least religious and least churched portion of the nation, is the spiritual epicenter of the country. The Great Awakenings began there. The major American cults have their geneses there. The once theologically solid Ivy League schools are there. Christendom in America rose first and fell first in New England. Rural New England is hyper-spiritual (New Ageism, Wicca, etc. still flourishing) but under-churched and under-gospeled.
Because it’s not just New England or the rural Northeast who need church planters and evangelical pastors. It’s rural areas and small towns all over the country. A lot of evangelical churches in outlying areas are praying desperately that crop after crop of young pastors and aspiring church planters will grow up and show up.
I am increasingly encouraged by the number of my Midwestern Seminary students and Liberty Baptist Church ministry residents indicate a desire to go back to their little hometowns and pastor little country churches. Their big hearts for small places is something I think God big time blesses.
As professionalization captured the evangelical pastorate, churches in small town America began drying up. It’s where old pastors go to retire. It’s where the untalented go to do second rate ministry. Even the one or two conferences recently about ministry in small town settings were led by megachurch pastors and were predicated on how to build a big church in a small town.
Does anyone see the connections between Jesus’ mustard seed ministry and ministry in marginalized America? You almost don’t even have to contextualize all that sower/soil, house-building, sheep and field stuff! It’s plug and play Gospels in rural America. And the gospel is scandalous to the churched (who tend to be either liberal or legalistic) and unchurched (who tend to think Christianity means “being good,” which is an ethic they’ve already got, thank you very much, compliments of justification by recycling and letting gay people marry each other) in rural America. They are some of the rockiest fields to till.
There are lots of real men in rural and small towns, guys who have fought in wars and know how to fix and build things. It can be intimidating for young urbanite pastors who’d rather talk Radiohead than radiators. There are lots of women who don’t wear makeup. (Your “smoking hot wife” may feel conspicuous.) There are lots of old people in rural and small towns, which means you can’t turn your worship to 11. But we should go anyway.
Is God really calling more people to the cities and suburbs than to the outlying areas? Maybe. Or do we just think he is?
This is why I also appreciate this part of Keller’s post:
Young pastors should not turn up their noses at such places, where they may learn the full spectrum of ministry tasks and skills as they will not in a large church. Nor should they go to small communities looking at them merely as stepping stones in a career. Why not? Your early ministry experience will only prepare you for ‘bigger things,’ if you don’t aspire for anything bigger than investment in the lives of the people around you. Wherever you serve, put your roots down, become a member of the community and do your ministry with all your heart and might. If God opens the door to go somewhere else, fine and good. But don’t go to such places looking at them only as training grounds for ‘real ministry.’
Yes. Do not treat these mission fields like training wheels for “real” ministry. If that’s your perspective you shouldn’t be in ministry anywhere.
It’s true that God may call young pastors and planters into small towns and rural areas to prepare them and train them for ministries of Jabezian levels of “more territory.” But some he calls to come and stay. Many of us are praying more and more missionaries are listening.
“Do you think you’re a good fit for this church?”
Nat’s heart rate increased and it became harder to swallow. Self-preservation kicks in at questions like this. The honest answer was, “No. No, he didn’t think he was a good fit for this church.”
But an honest answer might mean no way to pay his mortgage.
He’d relocated his wife and young children to be a part of this church. His wife was pregnant with his third child and they’d left a healthy church 300 miles away so he could begin his first full-time ministry role as a youth pastor.
THE PANTRY
We’re trying to integrate homeschooling with grocery shopping in our house. We haven’t figured it out quite yet, but in theory our kids will learn math while simultaneously putting it in practice in the real world.
Did someone eat the last of the Cheerios? Let’s replace them. The Triscuits are stale? “We don’t like Triscuits, dad.” Great, we’ll throw them out and their spot on the pantry shelf will be filled by Goldfish instead. After all, “kids loves the fishes ‘cause they’re so delicious.”
A similar philosophy was driving the church that brought Nat on staff.
We need a youth pastor. Our former youth pastor “had to be let go” leaving an empty slot on the pantry shelf. Let’s try and fill it with someone new. Take out the Triscuits replace them with Goldfish.
It works well for perishables that will be consumed, why wouldn’t it work for people in the church?
THE PROBLEM
The problem is, the Church exists so people don’t perish, and consumption of people is a damnable offense (Gal. 5:15).
This is a great model for organizing a pantry of items to be consumed, but an awful model for organizing a population of people in the church.
On the front end of hiring a staff member a church tends to ask questions revolving around the candidate’s character (is he godly?), calling (does she have a clear sense of direction from the Lord?), competency (can he get the job done with excellence?), and coachability (is she teachable?). Questions are asked to quantify whether they meet expectations in each of these areas, and likely some Bible verses are cited to show where each of these qualifications can be found in Scripture.
But are we missing a bigger piece of the puzzle? The intuitive (and as such, much less quantifiable) sense of whether or not the candidate is a “good fit” for the existing people within the church body?
The church is, after all, much more akin to an aquarium than it is a pantry.
The Cheerios don’t have to get along with the Triscuits because their shelf life is short-lived and they exist merely for consumption. Never the case with the souls of our people.
THE PEDESTAL
Thankfully, in Nat’s case, it all worked out (Rom. 8:28). But to quote the popular political trope: “mistakes were made.”
In retrospect the hiring committee would’ve served him—and, more importantly, their people —better if they’d taken more time to get to know him and ask more questions.
Introducing new people to a growing community—especially if they’ll be tasked with leading that community—requires patience, prayer, and personal investment. We’re not just replacing one item on a shelf for another, we’re cultivating ecosystems. While the church, like a pantry, requires organization, it is always an organism before an organization (1 Cor. 12:18). Before placing someone on the pedestal of leadership, proper time should be invested in making sure the candidate is a good fit.
Even a novice fishkeeper knows a lot of thought and intentionality goes into introducing new fish into an aquarium. Is it salt water or fresh water? Is it a predatory species? Aggressive and territorial? What temperature is required for the fish to thrive? These are just a sampling of the sort of questions asked when a fishkeeper increases the population in their aquarium. Disaster ensues if a predator is introduced.
Nat was no predator, but the process of bringing him on board didn’t properly safeguard its people from the possibility that he was. A few communal conversations and the congregation as a whole would’ve had an opportunity to get to know him on the front end instead of chewing up and spitting out one more well-intentioned young leader.
THE PRACTICALITIES
So what does this look like in the real world? It looks like wise shepherding (1 Pet. 5:2). The wise shepherd knows his sheep and knows how to care for them (John 10:27). By all means inspect the character (1 Tim. 3), the calling (1 Tim. 6:12), the competency (Deut. 1:13), and the coachability (2 Tim. 2:2) of your candidates. But go one step further and explore their compatibility with your current church culture.
Ask questions about their philosophy of ministry. Will he micromanage? Is she legalistic? Will he seek to prioritize people and relationships or programs and events? Which of these methods best describes your current church community?
In many cases, a church may be making a new hire because a previous staff person left a void. Are you hoping to see the ministry maintained and continue as is? Or are you hoping to see a change in direction? If the latter, slow way down, communicate to the new candidate exactly where you came from, where you are now, and where you’re hoping to see the ministry go in the future.
Like most situations involving people, Nat’s transition was messy and, at times, confusing. He felt like he failed to meet their expectations. Thanks to vulnerable relationships with others in ministry he was reminded that he was clear and upfront about his goals and vision for the ministry from the beginning. In other words, it wasn’t his failure to deliver, as much as it was their failure to communicate their own expectations and needs.
Let me repeat one last time: patience and prayer is invaluable in hiring outside staff. For their sake and the sake of your congregation. Just like an aquarium, consider giving them (and your people) ample time to acclimate to the water. I know of one pastor who waited eight months from his hire date to relocate to his new church, and as lead pastor, he didn’t preach until two months later! That slow process is much better suited to the aquarium like ecosystems of real people than the stale stock of a pantry. Over a decade later, he’s still serving the same church and both are thriving. If only these stories were more common.
For those on both ends of the church hiring process this sort of deliberate slowing down and open communication is sure to pay huge dividends in the end. Take the time to encourage the folks on both ends to make sure the water is just right before introducing a new species.
Perhaps the greatest irony with Nat’s story is that the analogy of church compatibility that borrows from the world of aquariums as opposed to pantries is one he first heard from the pastor that ultimately ended up terminating him. He could be bitter about this, but instead chose to believe God was teaching him how not to repeat the same mistakes.
There’s a real danger that in treating our churches like pantries we stock the shelves too quickly and end up with some junk food—or worse yet, we mix the metaphor, and introduce a predator—and someone gets consumed.
With a heavy heart, I walked into the church building knowing what was about to take place. As a church, we were gathering together to exercise the final step of church discipline: removal from membership. When the call to vote came, I cast my head down and raised my hand to vote for removal.
Some of the hardest moments in my Christian life have been removing someone from fellowship because of their unrepentant sin. Just hearing about removing someone from membership is discouraging and knowing that someone is living in disobedience towards God and pursuing their sin can discourage us in our faith. Having close friends, family, and pastors pursuing their sin brings despair that hits even harder. But through this heaviness of heart, we must fulfill the biblical command to practice church discipline. Our goal in discipline is not to condemn, but to restore. Thus, we don’t forsake church discipline just because it grieves us.
The first time I voted to remove someone from fellowship was a good friend of mine and it was devastating. Questions flooded my mind. Was there more I could have done? Are they lost forever? How do I speak to them? Will we ever have the same relationship? Why am I so burdened by this? Why haven’t I reached out since we removed them from fellowship? I asked myself many more questions that brought out shame, guilt, and further despair.
My desire in writing this is for the sake of anyone facing these same questions and feelings. We can take great comfort in God and His Word, trusting in His sovereignty over these circumstances. Here are some points of comfort for those who have, along with their local church, fulfilled their duty in removing individuals from fellowship with the church.
My wife and I voted to remove a family member from our church a few years ago. The days that followed were heavy for us, but I’ll never forget what one of our pastors said, “They are not too far gone.” A burden was lifted from us by this statement alone. We were preparing to live the rest of our lives as if they would never return to the Lord. We wondered what this looked like as supporters of their disfellowship with the church when we were to see them at holidays, family gatherings, or even when we spoke about our faith. Would they be bitter toward us? Would they resent our decision to support Scripture, despite them being family? Yet, we were reminded of the fact that they are not too far gone. When pondering on those you’ve recently removed from fellowship, remember that though they are far from God now, we shouldn’t assume God isn’t working to bring them back. Take comfort in the fact that God brings his lost sheep back to himself.
Perhaps you’re in a position like the one that I have faced. You blame yourself for not doing enough; you could have met with them more, prayed for them more frequently and sincerely, or even rebuked and corrected them in the hope of their restoration prior to disfellowship. Although these efforts are commendable, doing more doesn’t guarantee you’ll be successful in your efforts. Rather, if you’ve been a faithful church member to them and if you’ve followed what is outlined in Scripture concerning church discipline (Matt. 18:15-20; 1 Cor. 5:9-13), then you needn’t worry about having done too little. If by your witness they don’t repent, you are not guilty. If after confronting them with 2-3 witnesses they don’t repent, you are not guilty. If after bringing them before the church and they don’t repent, you are not guilty. You’ve been faithful to do what God has instructed you to do. Their unrepentance is not your guilt to bear. Take comfort in your obedience to the Lord.
There are two comforts that exist for you to consider in helping you ease the burden of church discipline: the Church and prayer. The Church is a great comfort because you know that you are not alone in pleading to the Lord for their repentance. Because of the Church you are not alone in reaching out to those who are removed from fellowship. And when it feels overwhelming, you have the Church to lean onto for comfort. Ultimately, you are led to prayer personally and corporately. 1 Peter 5:7 reminds us that we can cast all our burdens on God because he cares for us. Take comfort because you have the Church to lean on and God to rest in.
The first question of the Heidelberg Catechism asks, “What is your only comfort in life and death?” One line of the answer has provided immense comfort for my own personal life, and I believe it applies here. “[Jesus] also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.” How comforting is it to know that the Father’s will is actively engaged in working all things for our salvation? In purging the evil from among us (1 Cor. 5:13), our goal is not to cast someone aside for the final judgment.
Rather, our aim is to be the ones used by the Lord to ensure that all things are working together for their salvation. Personally, I see disfellowshipping a member not as a judgment on their salvation (though this act does remove those who clearly had a false confession of faith), but rather as a statement of discipline. Think of the relationship of a parent and a child. A child who is rebellious against their parents doesn’t lose the status of child. No, the parents discipline the child, and the child remains a child. In the same way, the Father uses the Church to discipline his children (See Heb. 12:3-13). Take comfort that the Lord disciplines those whom he loves (Prov. 3:12; Heb. 12:6).
Here’s the best news of all, God does restore those whom he is disciplining. A friend recently commented on 1 John 2:1, “John is more sure that Christ is forgiving than he is that you won’t sin.” Our forgiving God is restoring those who are his and forgiving them of their sin. Don’t be dismayed that all don’t return to the Lord, but take great comfort in the fact that the Lord is restoring his sheep to the flock. Find peace in the gospel, which leads us to trust that even the worst of sinners who repent and have faith in our Triune God are being sanctified (Phil. 1:6).
As time has passed, the Lord has used his Word and the Church to remind me that those who fulfill their duty of church discipline have great comfort in their time of lament. Whether we struggle with guilt, feeling alone, or doubt, we can have hope in the comforting, restoring God who is making sinners whole.
On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson talks with his MBTS colleague Dr. Geoff Chang, professor of church history and curator of the Spurgeon Library, about his new book on Spurgeon’s pastoral ministry, implications for megachurches, and more.
Text (Genre, Literary units and text hierarchy, Text-criticism)
Observation (Clause and text grammar, Argument-tracing, Word and concept studies)
Context (Historical and Literary context)
Meaning (Biblical and Systematic theology)
Application (Practical theology)
Once you have established your text, made accurate observations, and discerned your passage’s contexts, it is time to determine your text’s meaning. To do this, it is critical to understand biblical theology, the discipline that considers how the whole Bible progresses, integrates, and climaxes in Jesus. Here you ask, “How does my passage connect to the Bible’s overall storyline and point to Christ?”
The discipline of biblical theology assumes at least four key principles about the Bible:
1. The Bible is the locus of God’s special revelation.
Every line, word, phrase, clause, and paragraph in Scripture is God’s word. No other book is like the Bible, for it alone is God’s special revelation. Therefore, biblical theology is a textual discipline, such that the author’s intent guides the connections we make both backward and forward within every text. Historical context informs and supports the study but never trumps it.
2. The Bible demands that we submit to it and engage it in constructive ways.
We must see God’s word in its final canonical form as our primary and decisive authority in all matters of faith and practice. Furthermore, our interpretation should never deconstruct the biblical text, misinterpret the text, contradict the biblical author’s intentions, or fail to evaluate fairly the claims of the text in accordance with its nature.
3. The Bible is prescriptive.
Because the Bible is God’s word, it has the authority to prescribe a certain lifestyle and worldview for its readers and to confront alternatives. God’s purpose in having us grasp his purposes in salvation history is to move us to worship and surrender to the living God through Christ.
4. The Bible expresses a coherent, unified theology.
God is the ultimate author of Scripture, and he is the ultimate unified and coherent thinker. Thus, we must push to grasp the unified theology of the whole Bible. Every passage contributes in some way to the whole.
The whole Bible progresses, integrates, and climaxes in Christ, and every passage contributes in some way to Scripture’s message that God reigns, saves, and satisfies through covenant for his glory in Jesus. Central to determining a passage’s meaning is not only considering what it proclaims but how this message relates to and informs the greater message of Scripture culminating in Christ.
Biblical theology is a way of analyzing and synthesizing what the Bible reveals about God and his relations with the world that makes organic salvation-historical and literary-canonical connections with the whole of Scripture on its own terms, especially with respect to how the Old and New Testaments progress, integrate, and climax in Christ. Let me unpack this extended definition under six headings.
Biblical theology seeks to interpret the final form of the Christian Bible––to analyze and synthesize God’s special revelation embodied in the Old and New Testaments. That God’s special revelation comes through Old and New Testaments highlights both Scripture’s unity and diversity. The one Bible has two necessary parts, each of which we must read in view of the other. The Old Testament provides foundation for what Jesus fulfills in the New Testament.
Biblical theology is about making natural, unforced connections within Scripture. In the process, it recognizes growth or progress in a thought or concept and lets the Bible speak in accordance with its own contours, structures, language, and flow.
Salvation history is the progressive narrative unfolding of God’s kingdom plan through the various covenants, events, people, and institutions, all climaxing in the person and work of Jesus. Redemptive history moves from creation to the fall to redemption to consummation. It’s the true story of God’s purposes climaxing in Christ that frames all of Scripture from Genesis to Revelation. One way to summarize his-story is through the acronym KINGDOM, as represented in the following chart:
Scripture declares the story of God’s glory in Christ. Within this framework, we can make salvation-historical connections in at least five different ways:
Biblical theology arises out of the narrative framework of salvation history, but we cannot restrict the discipline to redemptive historical connections because the Bible includes more than the story of God’s glory in Christ. As seen below, Scripture includes groupings of narrative books that frame commentary books. We must consider every passage in light of its placement and role within the canon as a whole, which contains two Testaments, each with corresponding narrative and commentary sections and each with a potentially-corresponding three-part structure. The chart arranges the Old Testament in alignment with the order in Jesus’s Bible (see Luke 24:44) and the New Testament in accordance with the earliest canonical evidence.
Along with final-form composition and structure, literary-canonical connections include the historical details that tie the canon together. Here I refer to information regarding authorship, date, or provenance of a given passage. Where God reveals such information, it is fair and appropriate to use it to consider how books or passages that are united historically address various themes or contribute to our knowledge of a given topic. Because Moses was the substantial author of both Exodus and Leviticus, we can use each book as an interpretive lens for the other. Because Samuel–Kings and Chronicles address similar time-periods from different perspectives, we can compare the two to help clarify the distinctive theology of each corpus.
Finally, literary-canonical connections also include accounting for our passage’s biblical corpus or genre. Studying the teaching in Ecclesiastes should naturally be related to that of Proverbs not only because Solomon is likely the same author but also because both are wisdom books. Similarly, one should interpret Zephaniah in view of its placement in and contribution to both the Book of the Twelve and the Latter Prophets as a whole.
The relationship of the Testaments is perhaps the biggest question faced in biblical theology. Scripture was not shaped in a day. God produced it over time, progressively disclosing his kingdom purposes climaxing in Christ and pointing ultimately to the consummation. Biblical theology gives significant effort to tracking this progression and to considering how the various covenants and Testaments integrate in God’s overarching kingdom plan.
The ultimate end of biblical theology is Jesus. The salvation history that frames Scripture all points and progresses to Christ, and all fulfillment flows from and through him. All laws, history, laws, prophecy, and promises find their end-times realization in Jesus (Matt 5:17–18; Mark 1:15; Acts 3:18; 2 Cor. 1:20). Therefore, we can rightly assert that the Old Testament is a messianic document written to instill messianic hope (see Rom. 1:1–3; 3:21; 10:4). Indeed, the apostles recognized that Yahweh foretold by the mouth of all the prophets from Moses forward the tribulation and triumph of the Christ and the subsequent glories (Acts 3:18, 24; 10:43; 1 Peter 1:10–11), and God revealed to those prophets that “they were serving not themselves but you” when they wrote their words (1 Peter 1:12). If we fail to appreciate that the Old Testament is Christian Scripture, we do not approach it like Jesus and his apostles, and we have no basis to call our interpretation “Christian.”
Thus far, we have learned something about what the Bible is about, how it is transmitted, why it was given, and around whom it is centered. That is, the Bible has a frame, a form, a focus, and a fulcrum.
The Bible is the revelation of God, who reigns over all and who saves and satisfies all who look to him. In short, Scripture is about his kingdom and how he builds it through covenant for his glory in Christ. We could say that Scripture’s content relates to God’s reign over God’s people in God’s land for God’s glory (Luke 4:43; Acts 1:3; 20:25; 28:23, 31).
Throughout salvation history, God has maintained his relationship with the world through a series of covenants. The most dominant of these are the Mosaic (old) covenant and the new covenant in Christ. The old covenant bore a ministry of condemnation and brought forth an age of death; the new covenant bore a ministry of righteousness and brought with it life (2 Cor. 3:9). Moses recognized Israel’s stubbornness and predicted the old covenant’s failure (Deut. 9:6–7; 31:16–18, 27–29). But he also envisioned that God would mercifully overcome the curse with restoration blessing (4:30–31) in what we now know as the new covenant (Jer. 31:31). A prophetic, new covenant mediator would facilitate this era of blessing (Deut. 18:15), which would include God’s transforming the hearts of covenant members in a way that would generate love and obedience (30:6, 8–14). God would curse all his enemies (30:7) and broaden the makeup of his people to include some from the nations (32:21, 43; cf. Gen. 17:4–5). Christ is the mediator of the new covenant (Gen. 22:17–18; 1 Tim. 2:5; Heb. 9:15; 12:24), which has superseded the old (Gal. 3:24–25; Rom. 10:4), made every promise “Yes” (2 Cor. 1:20), and secured for us every spiritual blessing (Eph. 1:3) and “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading” (1 Peter 1:4).
The chief goal of all God’s actions is the preservation and display of his glory, and it is to this end that all Scripture points. Because all things are from him, through him, and to him, God’s glory is exalted over all things (Rom. 11:36) and should be the goal of our lives (1 Cor. 10:31).
Jesus Christ is the one to whom all salvation history points, and the one who fulfills all the Old Testament anticipates. The entire Bible centers on this promised messianic Deliverer who secures reconciliation with God for all who believe in him as the divine, crucified, resurrected Messiah. His ministry produces a universal call to repentance and whole-life surrender to him as King.
We can synthesis Scripture’s as God reigns, saves, and satisfies through covenant for his glory in Christ. Put another way, the Bible calls Jews and Gentiles alike to magnify God as the supreme Sovereign, Savior, and Satisfier of the world through Messiah Jesus. The Old Testament provides the foundation for this message; the New Testament fulfills all Old Testament hopes.[1]
Scripture is self-interpreting, for the God who never changes is the author of it all. To determine the full meaning of a passage, we must always ponder how your passage contributes and relates to the rest of Scripture culminating in Christ. The whole Bible progresses, integrates, and climaxes in Jesus, so we must consider how every passage in the Old Testament relates to this overarching flow and message.
[1] For two examples of biblical theology at work, see Jason S. DeRouchie, “Why the Third Day?: The Promise of Resurrection in All of Scripture,” Desiring God, 11 June 2019, https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/why-the-third-day; Jason S. DeRouchie, “God Always Wanted the Whole World: Global Mission from Genesis to Revelation,” Desiring God, 5 December 2019, https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/god-always-wanted-the-whole-world.
“You have dysentery.” My common fate on the old Oregon Trail computer game became reality three years ago in Madagascar when my doctor spoke these words to me. As much as I wanted to laugh at how ironic it was to struggle with such an old disease as dysentery, I was in pain.
Little did I know then that this illness would set me on a trajectory of doctors’ visits, medical diagnoses, and hospital stays for the next three years, leading up to this very day where I sit once again in isolation at St. Luke’s East Hospital, missing my family and wondering why they can’t design hospital beds to be more comfortable.
I’m a firm believer in the sovereignty of God’s grace. I believe everything that happens to the believer is for good. After receiving an autoimmune diagnosis and seeing the subsequent bills roll in, though, this conviction has been put to the test.
Amidst temptations to doubt, God continues to reveal His good purposes for me in my affliction. As I sit in my hospital bed today, three lessons stand out among the rest as reminders of the sovereignty of God’s grace and His goodness in my life.
1. Your present trajectory does not determine your eternal reality.
Beginning in the fall of 2020, my life seemed to be on a negative trajectory. A house fire displacing our family for six months, the loss of my job and financial stability, and an autoimmune diagnosis hit us all in the span of a few months. Health, home, career, and finances- all taken away before we knew what hit us.
Any onlooker to the situation would quickly—and rightly—surmise that we were in a tough spot, in all senses of the phrase- emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
And in that season, Psalm 73 became my refrain.
“My feet had almost stumbled… For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked…For they have no pangs until death…They are not in trouble as others are…Behold, these are the wicked; always as ease.”
Why do the wicked prosper? So often, prosperity seems to attend the wicked while the Christian seems to go from bad to worse. I often wonder, “How can this be?” Anticipating my question, God answers…
“But when I thought how to understand this; it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end… Truly you set them in slippery places.”
For the Christian, God saves us not only from our sin, but He also saves us from all other saviors. During this season, I began to see that I found more comfort, identity, and satisfaction in my home, health, and finances than I had previously realized.
As Thomas Brooks said in The Crook in the Lot, “If there’s any part of my portion in this life where, in the midst of all others, one is disposed to nestle in, the thorn will readily be laid there. There the trial will be taken for there is the grand competition with Christ. We find our greatest cross where we expected our greatest comfort.”
In other words, God will have no rivals for worship in our hearts. Our thorns are God’s means of keeping us in Christ.
These earthly possessions proved to be terrible saviors, possessing no power to give what they promise. They never satisfy. The rich never have enough. The home never comforts enough. The healthy still get sick. Ease is a wicked temptress and an empty savior. The wicked may prosper, but the Psalmist teaches how I can respond.
“Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Take heart, Christian. Though it may seem as if life is headed in the wrong direction, rest in the wisdom of God. While affluence may grow for the wicked, they are in slippery places. In His grace, God keeps us from great temptations. We may actually be closer to where we need to be than if the affliction were simply removed.
2. God has no aimless thorns.
“Though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trails.” (1 Peter 1:6, emphasis mine)
God will not unnecessarily keep you in humbling circumstances. When the end purpose for the affliction is attained, we can be sure the affliction will be taken away.
And while He may have 10,000 purposes for a single affliction, we can rest assured that His purposes are good. Again, our thorns are His means of keeping us.
Just as a fence around a playground frees children to run fast with no fear of the cars on the street, our thorns enable us to enjoy Jesus more than anything else we could find in this life.
And since I still struggle with my chronic illness, I can be sure that God is still at work— removing heart idols in me and possibly working something outside of myself that I’m completely unaware of.
Let this be your confidence, Christian— God is more committed to your Christlikeness than you are. “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion on that day.” No matter what. He will do whatever it takes to ensure your conformity to Christ and your dwelling with Him for eternity. No matter how painful.
As C.S. Lewis said so profoundly, “We don’t doubt God’s goodness, we just don’t realize how painful it might be.”
So, in the midst of your chronic suffering, remember that God has no aimless thorns. Each thorn perfectly meets its mark exactly as He intends for the duration He determines. Each one will accomplish all He desires. Learn to seek God in the struggle with the thorn. See how He might be using it to conform you to the image of Christ and prepare you for eternity with Him.
3. Chronic suffering gives opportunity for resurrection living.
“We who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.” (2 Corinthians 4:11)
At the hospital, a friend asked, “How are you not frustrated right now? I feel like everyone else in your situation would be angry that the doctors can’t find a solution.”
I believe there’s great opportunity for gospel witness through resurrection living. Time and time again in Scripture, God chooses the weak in the world to shame the strong. A life of suffering with joy gives a great testimony to the beauty of the gospel of Jesus.
And in this way, there is great purpose in affliction. Life springing forth out of death in my life is but a small window into the good news of Jesus – the One who became the only true source of life by His death.
So, in my suffering, God has been kind to quickly remind me that the place of dependence on Him is the best place to be. Sickness keeps me close to Christ. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked to be humbled by a different set of circumstances, but I’m learning to trust that His ways are better than mine.
As my flesh fails me, God has promised to renew my spirit day by day. And in this way—life out of death—the gospel is proclaimed. And in that, I rejoice.
One sign of a false prophet is when a religious leader invents novel and fanciful interpretations of Scripture, interpretations completely divorced from the original context. Religious charlatans usually engage in such hermeneutical gymnastics in order to bolster their own power. An example of such scripture-twisting is seen in LDS Church’s slanted take on Isaiah 29:11 – 12, a passage they improperly handle in an attempt to bolster the authenticity of both Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon.
To understand why the LDS Church is wrong about Isaiah 29:11 – 12, we first must examine what the passage does mean. In a discussion about theological and ethical error, Isaiah stresses that sin leads to spiritual dullness. When sin takes control, it deadens our ability to think correctly about God and how we should live. Sin cauterizes the conscience and disables it from working properly. Subsequently, it becomes unusually difficult to understand God’s word or what God would have us to do. That’s the point of Isaiah 29:11 – 12:
The entire vision will be to you like the words of a sealed book, which when they give it to the one who is literate, saying, “Please read this,” he will say, “I cannot, for it is sealed.” Then the book will be given to the one who is illiterate, saying, “Please read this.” And he will say, “I cannot read.”
Because sin dulls the conscience, Isaiah 29:11 – 12 describes a sort of self-inflicted spiritual illiteracy that ensues. People are given God’s word, but they can’t understand it because sin has negatively affected the intellect. In Isaiah 6:9 – 10, God had already warned Isaiah of such a response to his preaching. Isaiah 29:11 – 12 gives forceful and cautionary advice that sin inhibits our ability to think rightly about God and ethics.
The Book of Mormon is a work of fiction invented from Joseph Smith’s furtive imagination. Smith claimed the Book of Mormon was translated from golden plates buried in upstate New York, an ancient record of a Jewish-Christian civilization which once thrived in the Western Hemisphere prior to European contact. To make his story sound more exotic, Smith claimed the account on the golden plates was written in “reformed Egyptian.” When the Book of Mormon was completed, Smith conveniently claimed to have returned the golden plates to an angelic being.
A rational question is, “What is reformed Egyptian?” Martin Harris, one of Smith’s scribes and a financial backer, asked the same thing. Though Harris was one of the “three witnesses” to the Book of Mormon, Smith never actually showed Harris the ancient writing he was purportedly translating. Usually, Smith translated by placing a “seer stone” in a hat and then burying his face in the hat and repeating out loud to an amanuensis what God was supposedly telling him.
Harris was eager for proof Smith was a true prophet, so he asked Smith to reproduce the “reformed Egyptian.” One is left to wonder why Harris could be a witness to the Book of Mormon, and yet not be allowed to look upon the pages. Nonetheless, Smith scribbled out some “reformed Egyptian” characters on a piece of paper. In February 1828, Harris took the sheet of paper containing Smith’s reproduction of the mysterious alphabet to Charles Anthon, a professor of classical literature at Columbia University. Harris, for some reason, left the meeting thinking to himself, “Joseph Smith is a true prophet!” Meanwhile, Charles Anthon spent the rest of his life saying, “I claimed no such thing!” When Anthon recounted the meeting, he said he tried to warn Harris that he was being tricked by Smith.
But Martin Harris claimed Anthon’s initial response to the list of characters from Smith was positive, with Harris insisting that Charles Anthon wrote out a brief note affirming the authenticity of the characters and their translation. But, according to Harris, when Anthon asked where Smith got the plates and was told they came from an angel, Anthon ripped up his endorsement and then purportedly told Harris something to the effect, “Bring me the plates and I’ll translate them myself.” Harris responded he could not bring them because they were “sealed.” To which Anthon rejoined, “I cannot read a sealed book.”
What do gullible Martin Harris, the deceptive Joseph Smith, and the frustrated Professor Anthon have to do with Isaiah 29:11 – 12? Joseph Smith seized on Anthon’s purported comment about being unable to read a “sealed” book, and using some fast and loose word association, claimed the entire event was a fulfillment of Isaiah 29:11 – 12, and LDS interpreters to this day insist this prophecy was fulfilled in the Harris / Anthon incident. The claim is that Anthon is the “literate” or educated person in Isaiah 29:11 who can’t read a sealed book. In other words, Anthon couldn’t understand the characters Smith had scrawled out. Then, LDS teachers claim Joseph Smith is the “illiterate” or uneducated person mentioned in Isaiah 29:12 to whom the book is given and who is apparently blessed by God.
Isaiah 29:11 – 12 cannot mean what the LDS church claims. The point of these verses is not that the literate man cannot read the book while the illiterate man can read it. The point of Isaiah 29:11 – 12 is that no one can read what Isaiah is discussing! No matter to whom you take the book, it is unreadable. Like men running around with a book they could not read, Israel would have God’s words but not understand them. Why? Because their own sin had blunted their ability to grasp the meaning.
The Community of Christ, a smaller LDS group, owns a sheet of paper they think contains copies of the characters Joseph Smith gave to Martin Harris. Now known as the “Anthon Manuscript,” the artifact was passed down to the Community of Christ by David Whitmer, another witness to the Book of Mormon and a very important person in the early history of the LDS Church. Though some scholars think the Anthon Manuscript may not be the exact document Harris took to Anthon, by any standard, it contains several lines of nonsense; the characters Smith scrawled out are so fanciful that calling them gibberish would be a complement. There is no such thing as reformed Egyptian. It is just one more part of Joseph Smith’s religious scam.
False teachers abuse God’s word to build their own kingdom, not Christ’s church. A sure sign of trouble is when a preacher abandons careful handling of the text and fails to determine what a passage meant to the original audience. A time-tested rule of biblical interpretation is this: The text can’t mean now what it didn’t mean then. Isaiah 29:11 – 12 was not referring to nonsense like “reformed Egyptian” when Isaiah wrote it and it’s not referring to Joseph Smith today.
O Lord, as light dawns on the first few days of the school year for seminary and bible college students, light our path as we journey through theological education.
Show the cracks and crannies of our beliefs that need to be filled with deeper or clearer understanding of your truth. Don’t let us believe the lie that we know everything about life and godliness before we’ve taken a seat in the classroom.
We can never predict what you’ll teach us in an academic year. We can’t guess our areas of ignorance, faulty theological structures, or relational strengths and weaknesses until they’re revealed by a conversation, or comments on a returned paper, or confrontation with your Word. We are always, ever learning, inside and outside the classroom.
Give us eyes to see and ears to hear what you wish to teach us, but also don’t trap us in the hamster wheel of trying to learn everything about you and your church in our finitude.
We confess, Lord, that we are not omniscient. Thank you for teachers who remind us that a miserly four or five years of study cannot completely comprehend divine truth. They can only give us the tools for a lifetime, mining your truth in your Word with your people.
O God, let us not forget your people. As seminary and bible college students, we are training to serve your people, and yet we so easily serve ourselves through the praise of pastors and professors or the pride of what we know. Keep us from using the privilege of theological education as an excuse to distance ourselves from those who seem difficult or uneducated or unimportant, thinking our credit hours make us more special than the rest of God’s family (Ephesians 2:19).
Remind us that before we sat in a theology class, we sat outside your love, “having no hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians 2:12). Now, we have you, as well as your people. We are together chosen and accepted primarily by you, not merely our theological institutions.
We are unified with you, as well as unified in our mission (Matthew 28:19), whether from an American church building, dusty road on the other side of the world, or the desk of a parachurch ministry. May we be amazed at the tapestry of ministries and gifts among us in this season of training. Some of us will be pastors, associate pastors, professors, youth leaders, writers, or staff of countless kinds. Some will stay in vocational ministry, while others will use their education elsewhere. Keep us from pointing fingers at our brothers and sisters like Peter pointed at John (John 21:20-23), preoccupied with asking you about someone else’s future compared to ours. We are all different, yet equally called to follow you.
We are called to follow you not only in word or talk, but in deed and truth (1 John 3:18). Forbid our studies from masking who we really are. We are sinners and students, and Christian academia was never meant to be the drug to cure or cover up sin. How easily we can abuse its environment and equipment to be confident before you, when Christ alone condemns or justifies and sanctifies, with or without our bible college or seminary classes (Romans 8:33, Galatians 5:25). You told us to abide in you, not in theological education (John 15:4). Break the leaky cisterns in our studies that we trust could hold or attain any righteousness apart from you.
Before and after our diplomas, Lord, we are yours, and your people are not ours. “For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake” (2 Corinthians 4:5).
May our “lightbulb moments” and limits to our understanding, love and labor for your people, honesty and humility with your Word and ourselves this year be for your glory forever.
Amen.