Good Shame, Bad Shame, and Ugly Shame

By / Feb 13

Shame is a popular word today. Sometimes preachers like to substitute the word “sin” for “shame,” as if the antithesis to a whole and fulfilled life is a life free of shame. In this respect, such pastors do not sharply contrast with the rest of our world. If our culture is anything, it is on a mission to rid ourselves of shame. Of course, if you think the antithesis to a whole and fulfilled life is shame, this will shape how you go about seeking wholeness and fulfillment (and not at all in a good way). If shame is the primary problem, shamelessness is the solution. This is why our world is intent on ridding ourselves of all absolute standards of morality. The sexual revolution is nothing if not a grand attempt to whistle in the dark and wish our consciousness away. If shame often comes from the transgression of sin, there is nothing to do but rule sit out as a category. There are no taboos anymore. If someone else’s sexual sin causes you to have a reaction of disgust, we are told, that says more about you than it does them. There is no accident to the fact that the phrase “you do you” is often coupled with the phrase “no shame.” We vehemently hate the shame that accompanies knowledge of moral transgression, so we erase the idea of moral transgression. There is no nature nor command behind sexuality—it is what I want it to be. Christians should steer clear of this kind of wholesale antipathy for shame. 

Christians should steer clear of this kind of wholesale antipathy for shame. Shame is not our sworn enemy. Sometimes shame is useful. Some sins should cause us to have reactions of disgust! The Scriptures often appeal to shame at various points. Much of the time, shame is an indication of a conscience that still functions properly. It is often the rightful corresponding emotion to shameful acts.

Bad Shame

Having said that, undue shame is a horrible thing. Shame that persists wrongly is not good. This would include, for example, shame for a sin that was committed against you. Victims often feel shame for sins that their oppressors should feel shame for. In such situations, shame is doubly perverted; where it should be absent in the psyche of the victim, it is overactive, and where it should be present with a vengeance in the psyche of the oppressor, it is altogether absent. I can tell you most assuredly that the cure is not a look inward—you keep looking inward and you will only find more reasons for more shame.

Another kind of undue shame is that kind that hangs onto sins that have been truly confessed, repented of, and forgiven by Christ. This kind of shame, while it may feel pious, is actually dishonoring to Christ. It cheapens his blood and essentially says that Christ’s atonement is not sufficient—it needs to be supplemented with wallowing shame. So, the opposite of shame is not shamelessness; the opposite of shame is a humble gratitude for forgiveness. Now, it’s easy for me to say that in the abstract—“let go of the shame for the sins that Christ has atoned for and cleansed you of”—but practically, this is easier said than done.

I’ve recently read Shakespeare’s tragedy, Hamlet, for the very first time, and was reminded of the power of shame in a scene with the King of Denmark, Claudius. Now, I won’t give away too much of the story, but I will say that Claudius is Hamlet’s uncle, and he was made King after conspiring against and murdering Hamlet’s father—the rightful King of Denmark. In one scene, Claudius is struck with the shame of his guilt and says this:

O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven;

It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t,

A brother’s murder. Pray can I not,

Though inclination be as sharp as will.

My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,

And like a man to double business bound

I stand in pause where I shall first begin,

And both neglect. What if this cursed hand

Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood,

Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
To wash it white as snow?

Claudius could not bring himself to pray because of the shame of guilt. He had committed the “primal eldest curse,” the same sin as Cain—the murder of a brother. And he asks, “What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood?” In other words, “What if there is more of my brother’s blood on my hand than there is my own flesh and bone?” In that case, is it even likely that heaven has enough rain to wash the guilt away? Have you ever felt paralyzed by the guilt of your sin like this? Have you ever been paralyzed by shame? What’s the cure?” Well I can tell you most assuredly that the cure is not a look inward—you keep looking inward and you will only find more reasons for more shame.

Worthy in Christ

The cure for this kind of paralyzing shame is not to search for how precious you are, it is to behold how precious Christ is, and what an unfathomable grace he has shown to bring about your reconciliation. If you are in Christ Jesus, you should remember that our Triune God did not wait for you to even realize your sin before acting on your behalf. The cure for this kind of shame is to be reminded that Christ was not compelled to lay his life down for you by your beauty—you had none. It is not our intrinsic worth that is seen in the gospel—as if God simply could not be happy until we were restored to him in salvation. No, friends, it works the other way around. It’s not that Christ was compelled to pay such a price because we were so worthy, but rather, we are now made worthy because of the infinite price he paid to purchase us.

“Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation” (Romans 5:9-11).

If you are in Christ Jesus, you should remember that our Triune God did not wait for you to even realize your sin before acting on your behalf. You were at your lowest—your ugliest, and most shameful—when Christ came for you. He did not save you on your best day, but on your worst. God did not stand afar off, aloof, with his arms crossed, waiting for you to work up the courage to come and ask for forgiveness. As if to say, “You got a lot of nerve showing up here…” No, Christ came to you at your lowest and he positively transformed you from an enemy to a friend. The Father’s overflowing, gushing love for you he displayed when he sent his Son to win your reconciliation with his life, and purchase your reconciliation with his death—all while you were breathing out venom and hatred and rebellion towards him. That is news good enough to put undue shame to shame.

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



Paul Chitwood on Local Churches Supporting Missionaries

By / Feb 10

FTC.co asks Paul Chitwood, current President of the International Mission Board, “Outside of praying and giving financially, is there anything else local churches can do to support missionaries?”



Episode 198: Simple Evangelism

By / Feb 8

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ross Ferguson talk about some simple ways to approach evangelism without fear.



What About Me Right Now?

By / Feb 8

Promises, promises.

God’s announcement of His plan of salvation and blessing to His people in Christ is one of the unifying themes integrating the message and the deeds of the Old and New Testaments. All throughout the Bible, God’s people have received the gift and legacy of God’s divine promises.

After the fall into sin, we immediately have the first gospel promise (Gen. 3:15). This is soon followed by covenantal promises with mankind represented by Noah (Gen. 8:21–22). Then, we see continued promises with Israel in the person of Abraham (Gen. 12:2–3; 15:18–21), in the assemblage of Israel at Sinai (Ex. 19:5–6), and in the “new covenant” (Jer. 31:31–34).

Within that framework, we find God promising and blessing his people, through Moses, with redemption from bondage in Egypt. There is the promised land, rest, light, and most importantly, the promised Messianic deliverer. In the promised Messiah, “all the promises of God find their Yes in him” (2 Cor. 1:20). Those of us who live in this messianic age of the kingdom await the blessed promise of his return: “waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:13).

In Isaiah, chapters 1–39 focus on judgment and chapters 40–66 on hope. While there are glimpses of hope in chapters 1-39 and glimpses of judgment in 40-66, the reader who comes to Isaiah 40:1, feels the relief it brings: “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.” This promise of comfort is embodied in the Servant of the Lord in the four poetic Servant songs (Is. 42-55). In the first song, the Servant, empowered by God’s Spirit, will bring forth justice (revelation) to the nations (Isaiah 42:1-4). In the second, the Servant will be a light to the nations and lead his people to the Jerusalem above (49:1–6). The New Testament clearly identifies the Servant as Jesus Christ.

These amazing Servant songs of promise provide a peek behind the curtain of God’s eternal plan to deliver his people, summing up all things in Christ (Eph. 1:10). In response to this prophetic look into future deliverance we find this statement: “But Zion [Jerusalem] said, ‘The Lord has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me’” (Isaiah 49:14). Why? I am sure the reason given would be, “Look around! Promises, promises. But what about now? Based on what I see I feel forgotten and forsaken, not loved!” The people returning from Babylonian captivity had legitimate reasons to feel defeated and despondent. They saw ruins and rubble.

Based on the circumstances we see around us, we too seem to have many reasons to believe contrary to gospel promises and to exclaim, “But what about me, right now?” What do we do when what we feel and see is at odds with the hope of the promises? How do we reconcile the reality of what we see with the promises of what we do not see?

What about when the promise is, “Sing for joy, O heavens, and exult, O earth; break forth, O mountains, into singing!” (Isaiah 49:13), but what you see is the very place of worship itself in rubble, reduced to a pile of rocks that makes you want to weep rather than sing? Revelation 7:16 can feel so distant: “They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat.”

Here is a sad truth: sometimes we prefer the safety of our misery to the promises of God. We actually become comfortable in surrendering to our own misery. We make peace with it, envisioning ourselves a heroic figure because we endure it. We can begin to think, “I know I matter because I’m pressing ahead in this misery.” 

If this narrative were to change, it would mess with our story. Acting on the promises of God is often frightening because doing so will inevitably lead to change. Acting on the promises of God will take us to places we would never go if we did not. The peace we have made with our misery will be disturbed.

But in the freeing gifts of God’s promises, he beckons us to something braver, an arena where we are no longer the center. He welcomes us into a reality, where what he promises eclipses what we feel. It does not often feel like victory. The sinless Son of God crucified did not look or feel like a victory. In fact, all across the Bible, obedience rarely ever immediately looks like victory. As 1 Peter relentlessly reminds us, it is suffering that leads to glory for Christ and us (1 Peter 1:6-12, 3:13-4:19).

Believers must actively surmount the evidence to the contrary with the reality of eternal gospel promises. God’s promises are the story of the believer’s life; the challenges, setbacks, and obstacles are but the footnotes of the story. When we fail to see the reality of the promises, we are guilty of what Israel was rebuked for in Isaiah 1-36: attempting to secure hope by stealing from other sources such as alliances with or acceptance from worldly powers. The fear of nations and the fear of man both demonstrate a failure to reverently fear God (Gal. 1:10). 

No matter what you are going through, there is purpose in it. How do you know? Because the greatest act of injustice in the history of the cosmos is the perfect son of God crucified like a guilty sinner. This is a seemingly senseless act, that in the wisdom of God provides the only way we can be saved. We may see rubble but we also see a cross and an empty tomb. This is the nature of faith. It always has been. After all, the Suffering Servant of the Lord tells us, “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:16).

Promises, promises. Yes, and Amen!

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



Shepherds Feed the Sheep

By / Feb 6

After his resurrection, before his ascension, Jesus has this moment with one of his chief traitors, one that is as tender as it is powerful:

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, “Follow me.” (John 21:15-19)

This, then, serves as the great pastoral commission. And it centers not on building a large ministry or casting a large vision. The central pastoral commission centers on this mandate: Shepherds are to feed the sheep.

In the center of Peter’s restoration here is embedded not just a reality of identity but a reality of vocation. What I mean is, Jesus isn’t just reaffirming Peter’s right standing with himself; he is restoring Peter’s pastoral office. He’s giving him something to do, and it is the fundamental, essential, irreducible task of the shepherd—feed Christ’s sheep.

Three times he commands him to care for the flock:

v.15 He said to him, “Feed my lambs.
v.16 He said to him, “Tend my sheep.”
v.17 Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

If I may speak briefly to one issue I believe central to the more recent debate about the sufficiency and reliability of the Bible in worship gatherings and in evangelism and apologetic conversations with unbelievers. I think if we trace back some of these applicational missteps to the core philosophy driving them, we find in the attractional church, for instance, a few misunderstandings. The whole enterprise has begun with a wrong idea of what—biblically speaking—the worship gathering is, and even what the church is.

In some of these churches where it is difficult to find the Scriptures preached clearly and faithfully as if it is reliable and authoritative and transformative as the very word of God, we find that things have effectively been turned upside down. In 1 Corinthians 14, Paul uses the word “outsider” to describe unbelievers who are present in the worship gathering. He is making the case for our worship services to be intelligible, hospitable, and mindful of the unbelievers present, but his very use of the word “outsider” tells us that the Lord’s Day worship gathering is not meant to be primarily focused on the unbelieving visitor but on the believing saints gathered to exalt their king. In the attractional church paradigm, this biblical understanding of the worship gathering is turned upside down – and consequently mission and evangelism are actually inverted, because Christ’s command to the church to “Go and tell” has been replaced by “Come and see.”

Many of these churches – philosophically – operate more like parachurches. And the result is this: it is the sheep, the very lambs of God, who basically become the outsiders.

And so you will have leading practitioners of these churches saying things to believers like, “Church isn’t for you.”

For example, Steven Furtick, leader of attractional megachurch Elevation Church in Charlotte, North Carolina, in a series called “Confessions of a Pastor” says this:

If you know Jesus–I am sorry to break it to you–but this church is not for you.
“Yeah, but I just gave my life to Christ last week at Elevation.”
Last week was the last week that Elevation Church existed for you . . . Let me get a phone book; there are 720 churches in Charlotte. I’m sure we can find you one where you can stuff your face until you’re so obese spiritually that you can’t even move.

In response to the criticism that his teaching isn’t deep enough, Perry Noble, former leader of Newspring Church in South Carolina, once said this:

I’ve heard it…You have too…Christians saying, “I just want to be fed!” It blows my mind! This would be equal to you and I going to an all you can eat restaurant and crying because no one would bring us any food. Food is all around in this environment…but if the person is lazy and self centered, wanting to be waited on hand and foot, then they could possibly starve to death when food is merely a few feet away.

Church leader Ben Arment, who describes himself as a creator and entrepreneur, writes in a blog post:

“I’ve always felt troubled by phrases such as ‘I need to be fed’ … when referring to spiritual growth. I could never see this thinking in Scripture.”

Well, that is a strange statement to make, because we see it right here in John 21. Jesus, to Peter: “Feed. my. sheep.”

In 2007, Willow Creek Community Church published the results of their REVEAL survey, their intensive and ruthlessly self-critical evaluation of their own success in growing fully-devoted followers of Jesus Christ. A 2008 Christianity Today article explained the results this way:

The study shows that while Willow has been successfully meeting the spiritual needs of those who describe themselves as “exploring Christianity” or “growing in Christ,” it has been less successful at doing so with those who self-report as being “close to Christ” or “Christ-centered.”

To summarize: Willow Creek had done exceptionally well at getting people into the pasture. But they discovered they weren’t doing so well at making sure the flock was nourished.

What was their response to this? How do you fix this discipleship deficiency? Here was the prescription found in the study itself: “Our people need to learn to feed themselves.”

This is something you hear over and over in certain kinds of churches and discipleship cultures—the notion of self-feeding. “You need to learn to self-feed.”

Do maturing Christians need to take responsibility for their personal growth? Do they need to take ownership (as it were) of their spiritual disciplines? Absolutely. You aren’t saved or sanctified by somebody else’s faith.

But in the dim light of modern evangelicalism, I still find it glaringly clear in John 21 that Jesus does not say to Peter, “Teach my sheep to self-feed.” He says, “Feed my sheep.” He says, “Tend my sheep.”

Pastor, if you call yourself a pastor, let’s start with your preaching: When the saints gather on Sunday, what kind of food are you giving them? Are you loading them up with the bread of Christ? Are you ladling out the living water that quenches thirst forever?

Or are you loading them down with law? One of the many other myriad upside-down-nesses of certain kind of churches is how they aim messages of practical Christianity at non-Christians. Handing out how-to’s on obedience to people whose hearts do not trust in Jesus. The best you can do with such a preaching strategy is create well-behaved pagans. Handing out how-to sermons is like commanding bricks without straw

Feed the sheep the gospel. The gospel is the only power of salvation – for the Jew and the Greek. Pastors, every week your people gather in starving. They are weary and worn-out and for some it takes all the faith they’ve got just to get through the door.

What is your job when they wander back into your pen on Sunday morning? Is it not to lay out the feast of the unsearchable riches of Christ? Is it not to present the true food of Christ and his matchless grace? They are hungry, brothers! They ask for bread. Don’t give them stones! Lay out generously the new wine of salvation and the juicy meat of the glory of Jesus Christ. Let’s send our people home fat with gospel!

How you see your sheep will certain affect how you feed them. If you see them as whiny babies you will be inclined to withhold the food of the gospel from them. But if you see them as Jesus saw them – as harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd – your compassion will move you to nourish them with the word.

Pastor, do you have compassion for your flock? It’s something I find startlingly missing in so much ink spilled on philosophy of ministry. I listen to guys talk about their churches and it has so much to do with strategy and technique and style and context – all important things – but sometimes I want to ask them: “Do you love your flock?”

Not every Christian man with an entrepreneurial spirit and a gift for speaking should be a pastor. I say this kindly — if your drive is not to feed the sheep, please quit. If you simply want to build something for Jesus, go sell cars or insurance or real estate. Start a non-profit. We don’t need any more salesmen in the pulpit.

We need tenders of the sheep. We need shepherds up to their elbows in Christ’s little lambs. Pastor, if you don’t get to the end of your week without at least a little wool on your jacket, you might not be a shepherd.

Jonathan Edwards was fired from the pastorate at Northampton in June 1750. But they asked him, until they could find his replacement, to stay on and preach. Astonishingly, he agreed. How could he do this? I think we find a glimpse in his official Farewell Sermon, preached July 1, 1750 (one month after they’d fired him):

I am not about to compare myself with the prophet Jeremiah, but in this respect I can say as he did that “I have spoken the Word of God to you, unto the three and twentieth year, rising early and speaking.” It was three and twenty years, the 15th day of last February, since I have labored in the work of the ministry, in the relation of a pastor to this church and congregation. And though my strength has been weakness, having always labored under great infirmity of body, besides my insufficiency for so great a charge in other respects, yet I have not spared my feeble strength, but have exerted it for the good of your souls. I can appeal to you, as the apostle does to his hearers, Gal. 4:13, “Ye know how through infirmity of the flesh, I preached the gospel unto you.” I have spent the prime of my life and strength in labors for your eternal welfare.

I have tried all ways that I could think of tending to awaken your consciences, and make you sensible of the necessity of your improving your time, and being speedy in flying from the wrath to come, and thorough in the use of means for your escape and safety. I have diligently endeavored to find out and use the most powerful motives to persuade you to take care for your own welfare and salvation. I have not only endeavored to awaken you, that you might be moved with fear, but I have used my utmost endeavors to win you: I have sought out acceptable words, that if possible I might prevail upon you to forsake sin, and turn to God, and accept of Christ as your Savior and Lord. I have spent my strength very much in these things.

Why would he accept their audacious request to keep preaching after they’d fired him? Because he loved Christ’s sheep and he knew the sheep needed to be fed.

Shepherds love the sheep and feed the sheep.



The Pronouns Preach: Lessons on the Glory of the Church

By / Feb 6

When reading the Bible, parts of speech make a big difference in our understanding. There are many examples, but here is one that demonstrates my point perfectly. It is found in Ephesians. I will be so bold as to say, “If you miss the pronouns, you miss the entire meaning of the epistle,” and you will miss a particularly important lesson we need today.

An Illustration

Ephesus was a center of pagan worship boasting one of the seven wonders of the world, the Temple to the Goddess Artemis. This temple was more than twice as large as the Parthenon in Athens, and attracted many from all over the world. There, in that great city, was the church God had birthed, made up of Gentile-born believers and Jewish-born believers.

The Ephesian church is one the most talked about churches in the Bible. We have two accounts of Paul’s journeys there in the book of Acts and Paul’s letters to Timothy concerning the same church. We also read of the church at Ephesus as one of seven Christ speaks to in the first part of Revelation. Finally, we have an entire letter by Paul to them.

Among so much that Paul wishes to say to these people, one thing stands out in the book of Ephesians—although they came from extremely diverse backgrounds, they must learn to live together as believers.

“You” and “We”

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians assumes their great diversity, which comes to us in the form of his use of pronouns. When Paul speaks of “we,” he mostly means, “we who were born Jews but are now believers.” When Paul uses “you,” he mainly means, “you, the Gentile-born believers.”

Though the pronoun distinctions show up in the very first chapter, we perhaps can see it easiest in chapter two. Notice how this works:

And YOU [Gentile-born believers] were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which YOU formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. (Ephesians 2:1)

Now see the shift in the next verse:

Among them WE [Jewish-born believers] too all formerly lived in the lust of our flesh, indulging in the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath EVEN AS THE REST. (Ephesians 2:3)

Now he brings both groups together by using “we” and “us” for all of them:

  • But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved US [Jewish born and Gentile-born believers together], even when WE were dead in our trespasses and sins, made us alive TOGETHER WITH CHRIST . . . (Ephesians 2:4)

Get it? Paul is preaching his great theme with these pronouns. The letter explains how Jewish-born believers and Gentile-born believers are brought together in Christ (Ephesians 2-3), and how Jewish-born and Gentile-born believers live together in Christ (Ephesians 4-6).

So What’s the Point?

Let’s put it this way. God receives glory from the church which He has made up of people of diverse backgrounds. In fact, He displays this glory to heavenly beings because it magnifies His grace. Diversity in the backgrounds of believers is something the church should aim for because it screams out praise to God.

Ever think of church life like this? This means that we should not seek to only bring one kind of Christian together in the churches. Rather, we should seek to cooperate with God in displaying His glory though our diversity. Paul is so burdened about this that he devotes much of almost every letter he writes to work on it. He simply refused to build a Gentile-born church on one side of town and a Jewish-born church on the other. They had to come together, because the gospel and God’s grace were on display. Only complete inability to speak the same language should make us separate.

So, you may be a “cowboy” church, but you better not try to be a cowboy church. You may become a wealthy church, but you better not try to be a wealthy church. You may be a church that has only one age group or one racial background, but you must never try to be such a church. If so, you are stealing away the glory of the church and are forsaking one of the most often repeated emphases of the New Testament. Don’t do it.

Let the pronouns preach.

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



Why Every Day is Thanksgiving

By / Feb 3

Which element of prayer is harder to practice? Confession or thanksgiving? This would seem to be an easy question to answer. The confession of sin is obviously more difficult than the offering of thanksgiving, right? Not necessarily. Pride makes our flesh resist both elements.

  • A proud heart cannot admit in confession, “I did it.”
  • A proud heart cannot acknowledge with thanksgiving, “I didn’t do it. God did!”

For that matter, pride makes adoration, supplication, intercession difficult to practice, as well. A godly heart is filled with perpetual thanksgiving. It is not merely a national holiday. For the humble spirit that knows where its help comes from, every day is a day of thanksgiving!

Psalm 100:1-4 records seven calls to worship: shout, serve, come, know, enter, give thanks, and bless. Psalm 100:5 explains why God is worthy of our grateful praise: “For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.”

The three reasons for thanksgiving in this verse have nothing to do with the physical, material, or relational blessings we receive. Indeed, God is the source of these benefits and we should give thanks for them. But that is not the focus of this call to worship. The psalmist exhorts us to give thanks and praise to God for God’s sake, not ours. True worship is God-centered. It is rooted in the person, nature, and character of God.

Psalm 100:5 gives three reasons why every day is a day of thanksgiving:

God is good.

James 1:17 says: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” Everything God gives is good. His plans are good. His providence is good. His provisions are good. His protection is good. His patience is God. His pardon is good. But Psalm 100:5 is not a statement about what God gives; it is about who God is.

Nahum 1:7 says, “The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him.” When bad things happen, God’s goodness is demonstrated in the fact that he is a stronghold in the day of trouble. The goodness of God is not always obvious by sight. But it is always evident by faith. Psalm 34:8 says, “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.”

God is love.

Verse 5 says: “His steadfast love endures forever.” Steadfast love is loyal love. God’s love is based on his promise, not our performance. God does not love us because we are worthy of his love. God loves us because God promised to love us and God always keeps his word.

Malachi 3:6 says, “For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” If God changed his mind about us, we would be consumed forever by his righteous wrath. But his steadfast love endures forever. People tend to love you until you give them a reason not to love you. But Romans 5:8 says: “For one will scarcely die for a righteous person – though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die – but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

God is faithful.

Verse 5 ends: “and his faithfulness to all generations.” God is a God of truth. Everything God speaks is true. God only and always acts according to the truth. This is the faithfulness of God. Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

God’s faithfulness is great because it endures to all generations. God was faithful to past generations. God will be faithful to future generations. Psalm 100 begins by broadening our perspective to all the earth. It concludes by lengthening our perspective to all generations. We acknowledge the faithfulness of God by thanking him for what he has already done. We also acknowledge the faithfulness of God by trusting him for what he is yet to do.

Psalm 100:5 is a summary of the character of God. God is good. God is love. God is faithful. But there is a better way to see the character of God than these statements of his attributes. God’s goodness lived in a human body. God’s love died on an old rugged cross. God’s faithfulness conquered the power of sin, death, and hell. The Lord Jesus Christ is the walking, talking, breathing incarnation of divine goodness, steadfast love, and faithfulness.

“Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!” – 2 Corinthians  9:15

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at HBCharlesJr.com.



Ben Mandrell on Kindness Worth Fighting For

By / Feb 3

Ftc.co asks Ben Mandrell, President and CEO of Lifeway, “Why is kindness a virtue worth fighting for?”



Episode 197: Jason Thacker on Navigating Our Digital Age

By / Feb 1

On this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson visits with Dr. Jason Thacker, a prof at Boyce College and the chair of research in technology ethics at the ERLC, about his book Following Jesus in the Digital Age



To Whom Shall We Go?

By / Jan 31

There are two opposing realities that every Christian will experience. On the one hand, we feel the joy of knowing God, and knowing that He satisfies our deepest hunger and thirst. Yet on the other hand, He will not always meet our expectations or fulfill what we thought were our truest desires. In this relationship, He does not conform to our will, but rather we conform to His. In truth, it’s not always comfortable. We are eternally satisfied to the core by God, and yet we are sometimes temporarily uncomfortable and even pained or confused when our feeble expectations meet His vast reality.

Large crowds often followed Jesus because of the miracles He performed, especially His healing the sick. The gospel of John records that when He multiplied food to feed thousands in an uninhabited place, the crowds even became convinced He was the Prophet they’d been waiting for, the Messiah and King to save Israel. In an attempt to make Jesus conform to their expectations, the crowds prepared to take Him by force and crown Him king. At that moment, Jesus withdrew from them, because as they clamored for the fulfillment of their expectations, they missed what He was really offering, something infinitely better than what they thought He’d come to do for them.

When the crowds found Jesus, He told them the truth—that they only wanted Him because he filled their bellies with bread. When He told them that He is the living bread from heaven, and that they must eat His flesh and drink His blood, many of these disciples “turned back and no longer walked with him.” (John 6:66) Jesus would not settle for anything less than the hearts of the people, because feeding their mouths and delivering them from Roman occupation would have done nothing for their perishing souls. He loved them far too much to give them anything other than Himself—the true and living God.

God loves you too much to leave you feeling comfortable—to always give you what you think you want. He has his eyes set on giving you Himself, which necessarily means surprising you. The God of our imagination is perfectly predictable, offering no surprises, but the God of reality is more glorious than the highest realms our imaginations can reach. Who would have imagined that Jesus was promising to have his body broken and his blood poured out for the forgiveness of sins when he said “…whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life?” (John 6:54a)

The next time God subverts your expectations, remember that behind every painful truth in Scripture, every gut-wrenching life circumstance, is a promise—a promise that God will not settle to tell you what you think you want to hear or give you what you in your limited wisdom think you need; no, He will continue to satisfy you by giving you nothing less than Himself. What else could you want but the loving God who desires to forgive us and give Himself to us? When the journey of discipleship feels too weighty, and you think, I didn’t sign up for this, consider that question.

Near the end of the story in John 6, the deserted Messiah gives His closest followers a chance to leave too. Peter responds with the childlike wisdom of a man whom the Holy Spirit has shown something that can’t be unseen—that there is no satisfaction for our souls outside Jesus.

“So Jesus said to the twelve, ‘Do you want to go away as well?’ Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.’” (John 6:67-69)

To whom shall we go?