The Blessings of Countless Guides in Christ: Some Preachers that the Preachers at Our Church Find Helpful

This Sunday one of our pastors preached from 1 Corinthians 4, a passage where Paul speaks of being a father to the Corinthian church. Paul contrasts his role as their spiritual father with what he calls countless guides in Christ. In the context of the letter, to have countless guides wasn’t necessarily a blessing because their guides didn’t often sing the gospel in harmony. Additionally, the net effect of countless guides and lack of spiritual fathers made the kingdom of God appear to be more about talk than the power of a changed life. Hence, Paul had the necessary role as their spiritual father, a father who knew the congregation and the congregation who knew him. Perhaps we could think of this distinction as the difference in a child’s maturation between having countless babysitters and having loving, involved parents.

But this passage got me thinking. While countless guides might be a hindrance to growth, they can also be a blessing. We can honor God for the countless guides we have access to in our day, that is, if we hold the guides in the right light. I’m so thankful to God that I could never listen to all the great sermons or read all the great books on a given passage. Even when I preach something less familiar to our church, from what I sometimes call the crispy pages of the Bible, as we did all summer long with the book of Jeremiah, I still can find great resources to help me and, by extension, our congregation.

I’ll say it another way. In Ephesians 4, Paul writes that God has given his church many gifts, including the gift of teachers. If God gives this gift of teachers, then I believe he intends for us to be learners—and those who teach regularly should be the best learners!

In my own preaching, after I’ve studied the passage, having explored my own questions and made my own preliminary observations, I often turn to commentaries for further study. After those commentaries, I often listen to sermons preached from the passage. In a week when I’m preparing to preach on Sunday, as I exercise or drive across town, I might listen to two sermons or I might listen to six. It all depends on how much time I have, how confused I might be about the passage, and how many sermons I can even find. While I’m listening to the sermons, I’ll take notes on my iPhone. And I confess: I almost always listen with the speed at 2x.

I’ll also mention that I’m dogmatic about not doing any peeking at other sermons until I’ve done my own work. The same goes for commentaries. I want to be able to argue in my mind with the preacher (or author) from an informed place rather than being passively carried along. In that Sunday school cliché, I want to be a good Berean.

Below I’m sharing a list of preachers that the preachers at our church find helpful. The list is certainly not my attempt to catalog the best preachers. I put them in alphabetical order by first name just to avoid the connotation of rank. I wouldn’t even begin to know how to assess and narrow a “best of” list. For starters, I doubt I’ll ever have a broad enough awareness for such a task. I wish I knew more preachers than I do, and I love it when I can add someone new to this list.

But I will share the criteria I did use to create the list. I prioritized three traits: (1) faithful local church ministry over a long time, as opposed to mainly conference speaking, (2) a tendency toward expository sermons in series through books of the Bible, which means lots of passages get covered, and (3) an accessible website that can be searched by passages.

For some of the pastors and churches I listed below, I know they have several gifted pastors on staff, and I might have only listed in the headings the one(s) I know best. And there are other preachers who I often check to see if they have preached my passage, but sometimes their websites are not as easy to navigate. Examples include the guys at Immanuel Nashville, such as Ray Ortlund, TJ Tims, and Sam Allberry. I’ll also look for sermons from Crawford Loritts, Paul Washer, Christopher Ash, Sean Michael Lucas, Kent Hughes, Charlie Dates, and others.

There are a few pastors listed below that I feel personally connected to, but perhaps they have either less time in ministry (so they’ve preached fewer passages) or their websites aren’t as accessible. I’ll add my friends below anyway and mark them with an asterisk. And if you’re reading this and you are one of my friends and your name is not on the list, I am seriously not trying to slight you. I could have listed more of my regular preaching friends at nearby churches in our denomination, guys like Trent, Josh, Kirk, and Matt. But I have too many ministry friends to list you all. Perhaps you could say I have countless guides, and I’m thankful to God for that.

Whether you’re a preacher like me or if you just listen to sermons and biblical podcasts for edification, I think it’s helpful to bring close the words from Matt Chandler that the Village Church often puts at the start of their content. Their website is terribly difficult to search by passages, and that’s frustrating. But I love that they remind listeners that the teaching they are about to receive is intended to be supplemental and not replace regular involvement in a good local church.

If you have pastors that you enjoy listening to and they meet the three requirements above, I’d love to expand my personal list and the one we keep for the teaching pastors at our church. Your suggestions certainly don’t have to be famous pastors. I’m always happy to listen to a faithful and fruitful pastor over a famous pastor.  

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Alistair Begg
Parkside Church, Chagrin Falls, OH
https://www.truthforlife.org/

Andrew Wilson
King’s Church, London, UK
https://kingschurchlondon.org/talks/

Ben Bechtel and Greg Kabakjian *
Midtown Community Church, Harrisburg, PA
https://mcchbg.org/sermons 

Bob Thune
Coram Deo Church in Omaha, NE
https://cdomaha.com/sermon-archive

Chase Replogle
Bent Oak Church, Springfield, MO
https://bentoakchurch.org/sermons/

Collin Smith
The Orchard Church, Chicago, IL
https://openthebible.org/browse-sermons/#scripture

Dane Ortlund
Naperville Presbyterian Church, Chicago, IL
https://www.npchurch.org/sermons 

Dave Cover, Keith Simon, Shay Roush, and others
The Crossing Church, Columbia, MO
https://thecrossingchurch.com/Resources 

Garrett Kell
Del Ray Baptist, Alexandria, VA
https://delraybaptist.org/resources/sermons/

Greg Lavine and John Beeson *
New Life Bible Fellowship, Tucson, AZ
https://newlifetucson.com/sermons/

H.B. Charles
Shiloh Metropolitan Baptist Church, Jacksonville, FL
https://hbcharlesjr.com/resource-library/scripture-index/?_resource_types=sermon-outlines

Jason Abbott *
Central Church, Jefferson City, MO
https://www.ccjcmo.org/sermons

Jeremy Treat
Reality Church, Los Angeles, CA
https://realityla.com/category/resources/sermons/?type=scripture

John Biegel *
Cornerstone, Annandale, VA
https://cornerstoneefree.org/sermons

John Piper, et. all
Desiring God, Minneapolis, MN (many sermons from Bethlehem Baptist Church)
https://www.desiringgod.org/scripture/with-messages

Jonathan Parnell, Marshall Segal, and others
The Cities Church, St. Paul, MN
https://www.citieschurch.com/sermons  

Josh Moody
College Church, Wheaton, IL
https://college-church.org/grow/resources/sermon-archive/

Kevin DeYoung
Christ Covenant, Matthews, NC
https://christcovenant.org/sermons/
(See also DeYoung’s former church, University Reformed Church or his personal website) http://www.universityreformedchurch.org/teaching/sermons.html
https://clearlyreformed.org/resources/ 

Luke Simmons
Ironwood Church, Mesa, AZ
https://www.ironwoodchurch.org/sermons

Mark Dever and others
Capitol Hill Baptist Church, Washington DC
http://www.capitolhillbaptist.org/resources/sermons/

Martyn Lloyd-Jones
Westminster Chapel, London, UK (he passed away many years ago, so the recordings are old)
https://www.mljtrust.org/sermons/

Matt Chandler and others
The Village Church, Dallas, TX
http://www.thevillagechurch.net/resources/sermons/

Matt Looloian *
Liberti Church, Camp Hill, PA
https://www.libertiharrisburg.org/sermons 

Michael Lawrence
Hinson Baptist Church, Portland, OR
https://www.hinsonchurch.org/sermonindex 

Mike Bullmore
Crossway Community Church, Bristol, WI
https://cwc.church/sermon-archive

Timothy Keller
Redeemer Church, New York, NY
https://gospelinlife.com/

Precept Austin
A collection of all sorts of sermons and commentaries organized by passage
https://www.preceptaustin.org/

Shad Baker *
Carlisle Evangelical Free Church, Carlisle, PA
https://cefc.church/sunday-messages

The Gospel Coalition
A sermon bank of tons of sermons from various preachers
http://resources.thegospelcoalition.org/

Zack Eswine
Riverside, Webster Groves, MO
https://www.riversidestl.org/sermons

* Photo by Kamil Szumotalski on Unsplash

A Boring Preacher Is a Contradiction in Terms

For the last few years I’ve had a growing desire to study more intently the craft of preaching. I get regular reps on Sundays, typically over thirty a year, and I have the responsibility of mentoring our other preachers. Yet I still feel the gaps between the preacher I want to be and the preacher I am. I say this even as people often compliment my preaching and notice improvements, particularly in the areas of boldness and confidence. In short, after ten years in one church, I’m hungry.

So, this is the year it begins. In January I grabbed all my preaching books that were scattered in alphabetical order on my bookshelves and created an entire shelf devoted to the topic. I’m buying other books and making Amazon wish lists of books to buy in the future. I signed up for a six-week cohort course with The Gospel Coalition led by Jeremy Treat. I’ve also committed myself to writing each week a five-hundred-word entry in a preaching journal about what I’m learning. The journal has nearly seven thousand words so far. I even have a working title and even a preface written for a book on preaching. I do this not because I’m necessarily going to write the book, though I want to, but because I learn best as I write and dream and pray and envision. I’m calling the book Hammer Fire Rain: Reflections on the Life of the Word of God in the Life of the Preacher. It would major on the many metaphors for God’s Word and how those affect not merely the sermon but the preacher across his life. I consider this book a “ten-years in the making” type of project. Preaching books, like marriage books, are best written by those with a long obedience in the same direction, unbroken vows, some gray hair, and a few ugly scars—yet also with a community of people who love them anyway.

The volunteer pastor at our church who did my annual review heard some of these rumblings and got me a gift for Christmas: the famous book Preaching and Preachers by Martyn Lloyd-Jones. I’m glad he did. I’d never read it before. The book is adapted from a series of lectures he gave in the late 1960s. Lloyd-Jones had a long and celebrated career. He’s famous for several things, including being a medical doctor before a pastor and preaching through book of Romans at Westminster Chapel from 1955 to 1968. Those sermons have been published in a fourteen-volume series and have a page count of over five thousand.

I’d love to tell you more about what I’m learning from Lloyd-Jones, what I’m learning as I preach, and what I might someday write about preaching. For now, I just want to pass along a little section from the book in a chapter titled “The Art of Preaching,” in which Lloyd-Jones suggests that boring preachers should not be. In fact, they cannot be, he says. Even the idea of a boring preacher he calls “a very serious matter.”

Whether you preach or lead any Bible studies at all, I hope you’ll find the words encouraging and challenging.

Buy on Amazon

The preacher must never be dull, he must never be boring; he should never be what is called “heavy.” I am emphasizing these points because of something I am often told and which worries me a great deal. I belong to the Reformed tradition, and may have had perhaps a little to do in Britain with the restoration of this emphasis during the last forty years or so.

I am disturbed therefore when I am often told by members of churches that many of the younger Reformed men are very good men, who have no doubt read a great deal, and are very learned men, but that they are very dull and boring preachers; and I am told this by people who themselves hold the Reformed position. This is to me a very serious matter; there is something radically wrong with dull and boring preachers. How can a man be dull when he is handling such themes?

I would say that a “dull preacher” is a contradiction in terms; if he is dull he is not a preacher. He may stand in a pulpit and talk, but he is certainly not a preacher.

With the grand theme and message of the Bible dullness is impossible. This is the most interesting, the most thrilling, the most absorbing subject in the universe; and the idea that this can be presented in a dull manner makes me seriously doubt whether the men who are guilty of this dullness have ever really understood the doctrine they claim to believe, and which they advocate. We often betray ourselves by our manner. (Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers, 85–86, paragraph breaks added)

At church on Monday our staff discussed this long paragraph in our weekly “preaching debrief” meeting. We, of course, agreed. But our solution for having less boring sermons was not so much that preachers should rack their brains on how to add more pop and pizazz, say, by adding spicy illustrations or dramatic gestures or having the tech booth turn up the volume to eleven.

Instead, we believe that Lloyd-Jones—and more importantly the Bible—tells us to focus more on our personal intimacy with God and rightly divided doctrine, and this, in time, will lead to riveting preaching, the kind of sermons that cause people to put down their phones, lean forward, and listen with their face. This is the view Paul takes when he writes to the church in Colossae. “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly,” Paul writes, “teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.”

Our teaching and admonitions—and for that matter our singing—should overflow from “the word of Christ dwelling in [us] richly.” When Paul speaks of the word of Christ, he means a kind of shorthand for the gospel, the good news story of the life, death, resurrection, and promise of the second coming. When this good news dwells in us richly, good things happen.

In a recent podcast episode of the Expositors Collective, seasoned pastor Ray Ortlund shared some cautions about focusing too much on preaching. The cautions felt timely as all these grand thoughts about preaching bubble up within me and spill out in my journal entries, and as I add books to my shelf and enroll in courses. Ortlund said early in his pastoring he essentially overestimated the singular role of preaching. He has since learned, he told listeners, not that preaching is less important but that gospel preaching is always meant to exist within a broader pastoral and warm relationship between preacher and people.

To this, I say amen. As I give all this time to preaching and thinking about preaching, I don’t want to overestimate the singular role of preaching. To consider again Paul’s words in Colossians 3:16, he says “let the word of Christ dwell in you richly.” The you is plural. The relationship of preacher and parishioners—both immersed together in the gospel—matters.

So I’ll press on, encouraged but cautioned, striving not to be a boring preacher by dwelling more and more richly in the word of Christ among a congregation dwelling in the same.

And what I learn about the craft of preaching and word of Christ, in time, I hope to share with others, maybe with you.

* Photo by Kristina Paparo on Unsplash

Why You Should Consider Studying and Preaching the Book of Judges

I fell in love with the book of Judges years and years ago. During college even, when I was a camp counselor at a Christian sports camp for a summer, I would read as a bedtime story about Ehud shoving his sword into the belly of a fat king until the king’s poop spilled out. The kids loved it. So did I.

One of the first few summers in my current church, my co-pastor and I preached through Judges. It was—as my father often says with a kindly smirk—memorable. I’ve written blog posts about the book and preached it at retreats. I’ve preached it on Christmas Eve. Seriously. It worked well, too. In fact, tomorrow I’m preaching two messages from the book of Judges to a local Christian school. (Yes, it’s the older students, but I think the book can be preached to younger students too, especially when using a children’s Bible like this one.) I guess I’m like Sam-I-Am and could preach Judges in a boat and to a goat, in the rain and on a train, and in a tree—it’s so good, you see.

Yesterday the website For The Church published the longest collection of words I’ve ever had published, nearly five and a half thousand of them, which is basically the size of a large chapter in a book. The words are a “preaching guide” to the book of Judges. But you don’t have to be a preacher to make use of the guide. You can just be a regular Christian who wants to know God and the gospel better.

My preaching guide in Judges is part of their series to offer guides through books in the Bible. Their preaching guides have a sort of template to them, and the last section always suggests reasons you should preach through the book (or, as I said, study through the book). Below you’ll see my answer for why you should study and preach through the book of Judges. I hope you enjoy the excerpt.

If you’d like to read the rest of the preaching guide, you can do so here. (The list of all the preaching guides is here.)

And if you know a pastor or Sunday school teacher who might benefit from my guide on Judges, please pass it on to them as well. Everything is free.

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Why should you preach through Judges?

Those who live in the Rocky Mountains or on the Hawaiian shores can behold beautiful scenery as easily as they can walk to their back porch. For most of us, however, tracking down mountain vistas or ocean sunrises takes a lot of work. From a preaching standpoint, the vistas seen from Ephesians 2 or Romans 8 tend to be more accessible and thus more often traveled by preachers and beheld by congregations. Yet for those willing to break a sweat and endure some soreness, the vistas that open in the book of Judges are just as fearfully and wonderfully made—you just might have to wade through a swamp or hack through a jungle before you can see them. In short, you should preach Judges because the book offers modern readers scenery that we didn’t know we needed until someone has shown us. These “views” include but are not limited to those I have listed below. Knowing these breathtaking views exist and hiking with your people to see them is reason enough to start the journey through Judges. And as you go, you will discover other sights both terrifying and awesome, sights you didn’t know you needed until God showed you that you did.

The book of Judges shows us the purpose of divine rumble strips. Rumble strips are annoying. They shake your car and rattle your teeth. If you have young boys in the back of your car, someone might yell, “Who farted?” In other words, rumble strips get your attention. So do smelling salts. So do defibrillators. God often goes to great lengths to get our attention when we, his people, are tempted to sin. “When new gods were chosen, then war was in the gates” (5:8). For his glory and our good, thankfully the invasive love God displays in Judges, he still displays now. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

The book of Judges shows us that sin is fundamentally illogical and only partially explainable. To read Judges slowly and carefully is to also become confused. He did what? But why?  And she said what? But why? Often, you can deduce probable answers to many of these questions, and yet even when the questions are answered, you still might not know the deeper reason for why people do what they do. For example, consider some of the unanswerable questions from chapter 19. Why wouldn’t anyone take the travelers into their house? How could it be that an angry mob demanded violent, homosexual acts in an Israelite city? Why would a man offer his virgin daughter to the mob to be devoured? Why would the Levite allow his concubine to be handed over? What was a Levite doing with a concubine, anyway? And who could cut up a woman and send her out in twelve little pieces? When you stand back and let the totality of the depravity of this passage land on you, one recognizes almost immediately that we must settle for partial explanations. This is because, in the order of the universe, sin is only partially explainable. Why would Adam take and eat the fruit? Why would sin ever have looked pleasing to his eyes? Why would anyone crucify the son of God? Why would the drunk driver get behind the wheel? Why would I ever use that tone of voice with the wife of my youth? Because sin is only partially explainable and fundamentally illogical. We really do need a savior.

The book of Judges stokes our longings for permanence. Peace and prosperity ebb and flow like the ocean tide, and all our progress seems as permanent as castles in the sand. The cycles in the book of Judges show us this. And they show it to us again. And again. And again. We need a savior who sits on the throne he will never vacate, which is what we have in Christ.

Finally, the book of Judges shows us the greatest enemy of the church is not external but internal. The book of Judges both shouts and whispers this indictment. Consider, again, the last sentence in the book. “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (21:25; see also 17:6). Positioned intentionally at the end, this statement is the ancient equivalent of bold, italics, underline, and all caps—an example of the book shouting that our greatest enemy is internal. We hear another shout in Judges 2:10 where God lays the blame for all their trouble on the fact that “there arose another generation . . . who did not know the LORD or the work that he had done for Israel.” Again, the foe is internal, not external. The book also whispers this message. For example, consider the judge Tola (10:1–2). He, like another judge named Shamgar in Judges 3:31, was a deliverer only mentioned in a verse or two. But unlike Shamgar, who delivers from an external enemy (the Philistines), no enemy is listed that Tola fought. When Tola comes to save, he saves Israel from Israel. And that is why the book, as a whole, concludes with an appendix of sordid stories likely from an earlier time in the book, stories of a greedy priest, a Levite who dismembered his concubine, and a civil war that nearly annihilated one of the tribes. It is easy to point the finger at those outside the church. The greatest threat to the church, however, is not ISIS or Planned Parenthood. It is not Hollywood. It is not atheist professors who ruin the faith of our sweet college freshmen. The greatest enemies are not secular politicians and Supreme Court judges. If we want to know the worst enemy of the church—the one that, apart from the sustaining grace of God, could eternally destroy us—then we must look in the mirror. Doing so will not be easy; it will be uncomfortable. But a long look into our own souls and our indwelling sin might catch our melanoma while it’s early. And if it does, praise God we have the gospel for our healing.

* Photo by Jan Kronies on Unsplash

Unexplainable Misery and the Wonder of Advent

During seminary my wife and I were members of a small local church near our home. I volunteered as much as time and permission from church leadership allowed. A few times a year our pastor let me preach. One fateful year I managed to land the opportunity to preach during Advent. Even sweeter, he let me pick the passage. I chose the book of Judges, specifically Judges 19.

Looking out from the pulpit upon a sanctuary decorated with golden stars and red velvet bows and families dressed in their Sunday Christmas best, I told the story of a concubine raped all night to her death, sliced into twelve pieces, then packaged and sent throughout the tribes of Israel. “Such a thing has never happened or been seen,” says the narrator (19:30). That’s sort of what I felt too as I preached the passage during Advent.

I had titled the message “Unexplainable Misery and the Wonder of Advent,” and I had intended to mean the misery of everyone in the book of Judges (especially those in chapter 19), as well as the misery of all who live east of Eden. But as I preached, it sure seemed awfully hot in the sanctuary for the middle of December. My misery, however, didn’t seem so unexplainable.

It’s been fifteen years since I preached that sermon, and different ministry roles have taken me to churches in other parts of the country. But just the other week I ran into my former pastor. Although we hadn’t seen each other in years, do you know what came up? “Ahhh, yes, that sermon,” he said. I guess neither of us can forget it.

Although my seminary preaching ambition may have been greater than my preaching ability, the gospel punchline from that sermon still preached: There was no king in Israel—until there was. The King of kings came in a manger, and he’ll come again on a white horse. Both Advents bring good news to all who see Jesus as the only savior from the sinful world around them and the world of sin within them.

“There was no king in Israel—until there was.”

Pastor, as you preach through the book of Judges, your people may stare back at you with blank faces; indeed, you may sit in your study on more than a few Wednesdays pouring over a passage with your own blank stare. But if you “pray the sermon hot,” as I’ve heard one pastor say, the glory of the grace of the gospel of Jesus Christ will sparkle against the grizzly backdrop of the book of Judges—and against the backdrop of our lives. And after you preach each week, and the music team takes the stage for one more song, with every head bowed and every eye closed, your people will be able to rest in this one truth: although scarcely will one man die for a good man, they will know that while we were still sinners—sinners like the sinners in the book of Judges—God demonstrated his love for us in the death of his Son. And soon and very soon, the Son who now sits will yet stand to split the sky.

Sound the trumpet, Preacher. There was no king in Israel until there was. And is. And will be again.

* These reflections are an unedited selection from a forthcoming writing project, a “preaching guide” for the book of Judges to be published by For The Church.

** Photo by Jeison Higuita on Unsplash

Hard Words Make Soft People: A Sermon on Simon the Magician

A pastor used to say that “hard words make soft people,” and then he’d add the corollary that “soft words make hard people.” His point, if I understand him correctly, was that preachers who don’t preach strongly against sin leave people judgmental and indifferent to grace–the gospel is for someone else, those more sinful than me. But when you preach hard against sin, people become tender, ready to receive the gospel and live in light of it—the gospel is for me, and I’m so thankful for Jesus.

The preacher who used to say this—and maybe he still does—seemed to apply his truism to the extreme, with every sermon preached in all caps. I’m not sure this kind of “strong” preaching had the desired effect. When everything is strong, nothing is strong.

I don’t know how you rank “boldness” or “hardness,” but I do know that over the last month several people at church have told me they appreciated the strong words in my preaching aimed at contemporary issues. I’m thankful for the feedback because, if I’m candid, strong preaching on contemporary issues is not how most people would characterize my preaching most weeks. And a healthy diet of hard words, I believe, does make for soft hearts.

Each year on my blog I share a sermon or two. For the post this week, I decided to share the one from last Sunday.

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“A Name That Lives in Infamy,” a sermon from Acts 8:9–25

Benjamin Vrbicek
Community Evangelical Free Church on June 14, 2020

I’ve told you before about my family’s love for the show Biggest Loser, where contestants compete to lose weight. The participants on the show are not so much trying to look good in their swimsuits come summertime, as they are, it seems, fighting for their lives.

Because the show has run so many seasons, a feature of the show many people enjoy is the “where are they now” segments. These can be either wonderful or deflating. The producers string together a montage of old footage of a contestant, often a winner of the show, going from overweight to thin and all the work they did to drop the pounds. Then the producers cut to the present, footage of the former contestant now going about everyday life. And they either tend to be eating subway and drinking green smoothies or, instead, eating double cheeseburgers or drinking big gulps.

I mention this because, in this passage, we meet a man named Simon. He seems to make a profession of faith. He’s even baptized. But then his Christian life appears to hit some bumps. Or maybe we wouldn’t call them bumps so much as wrapping his car around a telephone pole. And I’ll tell you right now that we do not have footage of Simon years after these events—some footage of “where is Simon now.” But this passage and church history do offer us some clues, which I’ll mention at the end.

What I want to do now is go back through the passage, three chunks at a time. A quick word of caution before we do so. Please don’t treat this as merely academic. The details are different, but the same dynamics in this passage are on display before us in the news and in the life of our own local church. Simon’s story is an old story. But it’s also a contemporary story, showing us what happens when we want the power of God without a change of heart.

I’ll read vv. 9–13 again.

But there was a man named Simon, who had previously practiced magic in the city and amazed the people of Samaria, saying that he himself was somebody great. They all paid attention to him, from the least to the greatest, saying, “This man is the power of God that is called Great.” And they paid attention to him because for a long time he had amazed them with his magic. But when they believed Philip as he preached good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women. Even Simon himself believed, and after being baptized he continued with Philip. And seeing signs and great miracles performed, he was amazed. (vv. 9–13)

When we hear of “magic,” we probably think of someone like David Blaine, whose magic can come across as a little dark. But when we think of magicians more generally, the image is often playful and quirky—card tricks and sleight of hand. That’s not what this was. When you read about Simon, think more witch and sorcerer and dark spirits. The people were amazed at his power and likely also afraid of it. We read that he first called himself great (v. 9), and then that the people called him great (v. 10). It must have delighted Simon’s heart to have the praise he whispered about himself boomerang back to him louder on social media.

But what happened to Simon? Apparently, Simon is converted. He listens to Philip’s preaching about sin. Simon had lied and deceived others. He’d loved the praise of his own name more than God’s. And he learns that if God were to judge him based on perfect holiness, he’d justly be condemned to hell. And then he hears about Jesus, how a perfect God-man came and lived and died. And when Jesus died, he died in the place of sinners. Jesus took the punishment for sin that Simon deserved. And he heard that the savior rose and ascended to heaven, and he’s coming again, and in the meantime, the kingdom of God was here and expanding. And Simon believed that. We read in v. 13 that the one who amazed others is now himself amazed by the gospel. Simon even follows Philip around because, it seems, he wants to walk in the footsteps of Christian discipleship.

Or does he? Let’s read vv. 14–19.

Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent to them Peter and John, who came down and prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit, for he had not yet fallen on any of them, but they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid their hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit. Now when Simon saw that the Spirit was given through the laying on of the apostles’ hands, he offered them money, saying, “Give me this power also, so that anyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit.” (vv. 14–19)

Several things to talk about here. It’s a side issue, so I won’t give it much attention now. But perhaps you wonder why the external manifestation of the Spirit of God seems to fall upon the new Christians after conversion, rather than at conversion. In the book of Acts, the Spirit seems to fall at different times, so no precise takeaway should be drawn from a single instance. The best way to understand this delay is as a blessing that the Spirit delayed because these Samaritan Christians, who were already suspect for being Samaritans, would have remained suspect unless the Apostles saw their conversion for themselves. That’s why, I think, the Spirit delayed. It’s not the ordinary practice we should expect today.

But let’s keep our focus on Simon, where Luke seems to point his camera, so to speak. First, he was amazed by Philip, who was doing the signs and wonders we read about vv. 6–7. He becomes a Christian, or so it seems. But when Peter and John show up, the super impressive CEOs of this new upstart—as Simon might have seen them—and they have even more power. Simon wants that power too, offering to buy it from them.

How are we to view his gesture? Maybe Simon’s a new convert, and his old profession exchanged power and favor for money, so perhaps Simon means well by it. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have such a celebrity on Team Jesus? Everybody in Samaria knew this guy, from the least to the greatest. Think about how the gospel would spread with a celebrity like him speaking for God! Let’s not fuss about whether he’s genuinely converted or not. Stop asking for the fruit of Christian character to grow out of the soil of Christian conversion before one rises to Christian leadership. Enough with the slow playing already.

God gives Peter the eyes to see his offer to buy the power of the Spirit for what it really is. Look again at vv. 20–24.

But Peter said to him, “May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money! You have neither part nor lot in this matter, for your heart is not right before God. Repent, therefore, of this wickedness of yours, and pray to the Lord that, if possible, the intent of your heart may be forgiven you. For I see that you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity.” And Simon answered, “Pray for me to the Lord, that nothing of what you have said may come upon me.” (vv. 20–24)

Several commentators point out that Peter essentially says, “You and your money can go to hell” (Merida and Willimon). Luke recounts this story to show us that wanting the blessings that come with Christianity can be very different than wanting to be a Christian. I’ll say it again. Luke recounts this story to show us that wanting the blessings that come with Christianity can be very different than wanting to be a Christian.

And we wonder which category Simon is in. Did Simon want to be a Christian, as it seemed above? We read that he believed and was baptized. Or does he just want power—first Philip was powerful, but then John and Peter are even more powerful. He had power as a magician, but now Christianity seems like a way to have even more power, and Simon simply uses Christianity to get what he already wanted out of life. Christianity is nothing more than a turbo button for the life he already wanted.

Peter says, “For I see that you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity” (v. 23). That word bond means slavery or chains. If we had asked Simon if when he started down this little magic path of his if he thought it would lead him to such dark slavery, he never would have imagined he’d get here. But that’s what sin does. Sin wants to push further than you ever imagined.

Peter sees Simon as a false convert, at least so far. This is why Peter is firm with him. Peter is firm because he loves Simon. Simon is drunk with power and wants to be perceived as great. Back in chapter 5 of Acts, this same lust for perception cost two people their lives. And Peter was there. He doesn’t want that for Simon, which is why he pleads with Simon to pray to God and seek forgiveness.

If you look back up at vv. 4, 5, and 12, something interesting comes to the surface. Listen to the phrases used: “preaching the word” (v. 4), “proclaimed to them the Christ” (v. 5), and “they believed Philip as he preached good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized” (v. 12). Preaching. Word. Proclaiming. Jesus. Belief. (More) Preaching. Good news. Kingdom of God. Name of Jesus. Baptism.

When Simon tries to get the Spirit’s power, what has he leapt over? He’s leapt over the content of Christianity, the very substance that brings the blessings of Christianity: Preaching. Word. Proclaiming. Jesus. Belief. (More) Preaching. Good news. Kingdom of God. Name of Jesus. Baptism.

This is why, at the start of the sermon, I mentioned that while this story is an ancient story, it is also a contemporary story. It’s then, and it’s now. Luke is cautioning us to not treat the grace of God as something that merely gives us what we want.

It’s easy, perhaps, to see the way some politician or self-help guru might use the trappings of Christianity for his or her personal gain. But it’s not just politicians who are known for this. When you mention the name evangelical, which is in the name of our church denomination, people see it as a synonym for hunger for power. How did that happen?

Are there ways Peter could be speaking to us? Maybe you have become a Christian only because Christianity gives friendships and companionship. Or maybe it gives you emotional support or joyful times of singing worship music. Maybe knowing truth and Bible verses gives you a certain authority on when you post on Facebook. Those things might not be wrong, but they aren’t the core of Christianity, which is love from God that leads to life change.

I titled the sermon “A Name that Lives in Infamy.” Perhaps that’s overdone a bit. Maybe not. It’s a reference to the day of Pearl Harbor that lives in infamy. I said we don’t know what happens to Simon; we don’t have “where is he now” footage. But the passage doesn’t end very hopeful. And when some of the early church fathers preached against certain heresies, they linked it back to Simon, another bad sign.

And then there is the name. The word “simony” was coined to describe the practice of buying leadership roles within the church. I mentioned that to Ben Bechtel, and he said, “Yeah it was, I read all about it in my church history class last semester. Simony was a huge problem in the Middle Ages,” he said. So, Simon has a name that lives in infamy.

Except, perhaps, for one word, the word “previously” in v. 9. Maybe when Luke interviewed Simon to get this story, he had, after taking Peter’s rebuke to heart, changed.

But today, I’m less concerned about him, and far more interested in you. Have you become more interested in the blessings that come from God than the blessing of knowing God himself? Not everyone talking about reopening churches cares about God and gathering with his people—some just want to make a political statement. Have you become more interested in the blessings that come from God than the blessing of knowing God himself?

If so, there’s hope. Look at the last verse in the passage.

Now when they had testified and spoken the word of the Lord, they returned to Jerusalem, preaching the gospel to many villages of the Samaritans. (v. 25)

This verse is fascinating because when the disciples went through Samaria with Jesus in the gospel of Luke, the disciples wanted to call down fire on Samaria (Luke 9:51–56). Now, they call down the blessings of  God in the gospel of Jesus.

Jesus can really change people. There was hope for Simon, and there is hope for us. But if you are to change, you need to hear the harsh words of Peter first. How is this for us, not them? How is this for me, not you?

I don’t know what ways you feel in the bond of iniquity. Perhaps sins you never expected would be so controlling now overrun your life. If so, I say what to you what Peter said to Simon: repent and your sins will be forgiven.

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What if Christmas Doesn’t Come from a Store?

Growing up, one of many favorite Christmas memories was watching the cartoon version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas at my Grandma and Grandpa’s house. We lived in Missouri and they lived in Iowa. It was always such a treat to make the five-hour drive to visit them for presents and sledding and hot chocolate and time with family and Christmas joy.

There’s that classic scene in the movie when the narrator says,

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore.

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.

I quoted that line in a recent sermon. It was my favorite sermon from all of 2019. The sermon comes from Romans 8 and mentions that—in the words of Dr. Seuss—Romans 8 offers more than a little bit more. Romans 8 offers Christians the deeper joy and more gritty triumph of the gospel.

As one year closes and another begins, I’d love to leave you with the encouragement to forsake your sin and live more fully rooted in God’s love for you in Christ. I titled the sermon “The Sons Who Slay Their Sin and Live.” You can read or listen below.

Happy New Year,
Benjamin

*     *     *

The Sons Who Slay Their Sin and Live

Romans 8:12–17
Sermon Series: “Joyful and Triumphant: The Deeper Joy and More Gritty Triumph of Romans 8”
December 8, 2019

The song goes, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” My first pastorate was in Tucson, AZ, and my first day of work was June 1. It started really hot, and for three months it only got hotter. I loved it. But when December came, it never really began to look a lot like Christmas. I didn’t love that. No leaves on the ground, no need for flannel and parkas, no way to cut down your own Christmas tree. Everything that grows in Tucson has needles, but not pine needles. I missed having the signs that told me Christmas was coming.

I don’t know whether you love the Christmas season or not. A pastor named Eric Schumacher recently wrote, “My parents divorced when I was 12. I haven’t had a holiday gathering with both my parents and all my brothers present for 31 years. I probably never will again. It is still incredibly painful every year. And I think I’ll mourn that until the day I die” (Twitter). For some of us, celebrating Christmas is hard because of hard past memories or hard present realities; for others celebrating Christmas is wonderful because of wonderful past memories and wonderful present realities. For most of us, it’s some of both.

My hope during the Advent season here at church is not different than my hope at any other time during the year: to point us to the wonder of the good news of Jesus Christ. We printed a flyer with our Christmas service times on them. I don’t want you to hang it on your fridge. Please give it to a friend, coworker, family member, or neighbor so they can hang it on their fridge. I’ll be preaching the week before Christmas and Christmas Eve, and I’d love to see our church point people to Jesus who don’t often give him much attention.

Scripture Reading

Please turn with me in your Bible’s to the letter we call Romans. It’s in the New Testament, which is the part of the Bible written after Jesus came to earth. It’s a letter written to a church in the city of Rome, a church full of people trying to do what we’re trying to do: make sense of the good news of Jesus for our everyday lives.

We’ll be in chapter 8 right where Pastor Ben left off last week. Follow along with me as I read Romans 8:12–17, and then we’ll pray that God would be our teacher.

12 So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. 13 For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 14 For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. 15 For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” 16 The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

Prayer

This is God’s Word. Thanks be to God. “Heavenly Father . . .”

Introduction

Pastor Ben and I have said to each other that if you’re a preacher who is going to preach through the letter of Romans, you need to be over fifty years old. That’s only sort of a joke. The theology and complexity of thought are too rich for otherwise. One of my pastor heroes calls Romans 8 the greatest chapter in the greatest letter in the greatest book ever written. In my opinion, that might not be an overstatement. I did add it up, however. Pastor Ben and I and Davis Younts (who is preaching next week) are not over fifty, but between the three of us, we have 106 years, so we thought this might qualify us to attempt to summit Romans 8.

Christians commonly call the season leading up to Christmas, Advent. The word advent means coming or arrival. The advent season allows for focused attention backward on the first advent of Jesus as the man born to die and attention forward to his second advent as the king come to reign. We celebrate Christmas between these two advents, the advent of the man born to die and the king come to reign. But during Advent, while all the faithful come to sing about being “joyful and triumphant” as we adore our savior, sometimes our understanding of Christmas being “joyful and triumphant” can seem merely sentimental and nostalgic—good food and family and friends and presents.

There’s that classic scene in the cartoon version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas when the narrator says, “And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

I believe Romans 8 offers more than a little bit more. In Romans 8, God calls the faithful to come to adore the deeper joy and the more gritty triumph of Jesus, which is the joy and triumph that will sustain the children of God in a world long in sin and error and pining until the second advent of Jesus. “[I]n all these things,” Paul writes near the end of the chapter, “we are more than conquerors through [Jesus] who loved us” (8:37). The “these things” that we are more than triumphant over include, Paul writes, tribulation and famine, distress and danger (v. 35), which means we have more joy and triumph than can be bought from a store.

As Pastor Ben opened the series last week with the first eleven verses, he held high the gospel of free, undeserved grace Christians receive in the gospel. The opening verse in the chapter and the great theme in his sermon came from v. 1, which reads,

1 There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

This means that everyone who is “in Christ” has no condemnation from God, not that we don’t deserve condemnation because of our sin but that we have no condemnation because God sent Jesus into the world to take our condemnation for us.

Some of you know that I went through the ordination process this fall. It involved a lengthy oral exam and the writing of a dense theological paper. One of the questions you’re required to answer in the paper asks, “What does it mean that you are in ‘union with Christ?’” This is the theme highlighted in verse one of Romans 8. For those “in Christ,” there is now no condemnation. So what does it mean to be “in Christ”? I wrote in my ordination paper,

Nearly one hundred times in the New Testament we read of believers being in Christ (e.g., 2 Cor 5:17; 1 Pet 5:14). Even more occurrences surface when we include variations of the phrase. In fact, sometimes the biblical authors even speak of Christ being in believers, not just believers being in Christ (Jn 15:4; Col 1:27). Union in Christ covers a range of aspects related to a believer’s salvation.

Simply put, to be in union with Christ is to have your life (now and into eternity) bound together with Christ in such a way that you receive all the saving benefits of the gospel (Col 3:3–4). To put it even more simply, union with Christ is like placing everything good about the gospel into a sack, labeling the sack “in Christ,” and handing it to a believer.

Last week Pastor Ben’s sermon took that sack of blessings, turned it upside down upon our heads, and shook for thirty-five minutes the glories of the gospel into our laps.

But the question hung out there, “What now?” If God has taken away all of our condemnation and corruption through Jesus because we are “in Christ,” do we have anything to do? Our passage this morning answers the question of “What now?” Because of the gospel reality that we are in union with Jesus and thus have no condemnation, in the power of the Spirit of God, Christians now begin to put our sin to death.

1. Put the flesh to death (by the power of the Spirit), vv. 12­­–14

Look with me at it in the words of our passage.

12 So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. 13 For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 14 For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.

Paul begins with, “so then.” In light of all the treasures of heaven promised to us in the gospel, what are we to do? Answer: We are to put our sin to death in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Paul proclaims that because Jesus has freed us from the prison of sin, we need to not stay in prison any longer. Jesus threw open the prison door, so walk out of prison. Don’t say in bondage. That’s what Paul is saying. And he uses violent language to do so. “For if you live according to the flesh,” he writes in v. 13, “you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” That’s violent language.

A pastor in the seventeenth century named John Owen wrote a book called The Mortification of Sin. I re-read it last year. The famous line in the book says, “Be killing sin or sin will be killing you.”

Jesus spoke often about this type of violence against our own sin, the war of the Christian life, the “be killing sin” part of Christianity. I’ll give one example from the gospel of Matthew. Jesus uses deliberate overstatement to make his point.

27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29 If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell. (Matthew 5:27–32)

Notice that the point of Jesus’s words in Matthew 5 and the words of Paul in Romans 8, do not command us to go on a “sin diet,” like we just sin less and then have some “cheat meals” here and there. God commands us to starve sin, not diet from sin. Christians don’t seek to limit our sin; we do whatever we have to do to eliminate our sin.

And the word “our” in “our sin” is key. Christian, be far more concerned about your greed than the greed of corporate America. Be far more concerned about the sex viewed on your smartphone than the sex filmed in Hollywood. Be far more concerned about the health of your marriage than the cheapening of marriage by our government. God’s view of sin is that of something dangerous, something that robs us of joy and God of his glory. We don’t have this view; sin is something we laugh at and coddle.

There a lot of young people at our church. I love that. I’m not old enough yet to be your father, I could be your older brother. By some accounts and depending on what chart you look at, I’m the oldest millennial, so I don’t like it when people pick on millennials, pick on us. So please hear this as a loving encouragement from a brother who cares: as much as we talk about authenticity, transparency, and brokenness, let us also show one another how much we hate our sin by the war we make against our sin.

When Paul uses the word flesh here doesn’t mean skin and meat and bones but that part of your nature that opposes God. The flesh is at war with God (v. 7). And in the power of the Spirit, we are to slay our sin. Don’t miss that connection with the Spirit. Romans 8 teaches that the Spirit of God in the life of the believer does more than one thing, more than simply telling you that God loves you. Yes, the Spirit of God works in Christians to remind us of all the good we have in the gospel—forgiven, reconciled, adopted. But the Spirit also points out the sinful places in your life that need to die. This isn’t about having a minimum level of holiness before God will love you. Look, I will always love my children. But for us to sit at the dinner table and fellowship with joy, my children can’t be cursing when they think I’m not listening.

The way Satan points out your sin and the way the Spirit of God points out your sin is different. I heard a preacher put it like this once. The condemnation of Satan is ambiguous and broad and hopeless. The conviction brought by the Spirit, however, is focused, narrow, and hopeful. Satan tells you that you’re a loser. That’s ambiguous, broad, and hopeless. If you take your finger and put it in your shoulder and press on it with increasing pressure, that’s like the work of the Spirit, that’s how the conviction of God works. “Do you feel that?” the Spirit asks us. “This particular thing needs to go. Let me help you” he says.

So, in last week’s sermon, Ben told us all the good things we have in the gospel when we are “in Christ.” And this week, we see that being in Christ leads us to run from sin. Let me illustrate last week’s passage and this week’s passage. Let’s just say, you lived in an apartment. A lousy, evil landlord runs the apartment complex, but at first you didn’t know he was evil because he promised you a great place to live. But when it came time to move in, things change. Your rent doubles. Your heat stops working. Your bathroom plumbing breaks. Your electricity cuts in and out. Rats scurry around at night.

So you say, “Mr. Landlord, you promised this, and you promised that, and now it’s different. I want you to fix it.” He says, “Tough.” And every month he proceeds to pound on your door demanding his rent. Oppressing. You can’t leave. You’re a captive.

And then one day, a new owner buys the apartment complex, and he himself becomes the landlord, and he throws the lousy, evil landlord off the property and begins to fix the plumbing and evict the rats and restore everything to its proper place. Thankfulness wells up inside you. However, after the initial euphoria is gone, the old landlord, keeps coming around. He keeps walking with his clipboard around the apartment complex. And he keeps pounding on your door every month. “Pay up. Your rent is due,” he says. “You’re mine. You’re a debtor to me.” Do you know what you say?

You say, “No, Mr. Evil Landlord. I have a new landlord who is kind and wise and powerful and loving and just as he has thrown you off before, so he will do again every time I come to him to ask for his help because he is the great liberator. Security, show this impostor the door.”

That’s last week’s sermon. This week, we’re pressed with the questions of why we would vandalize the newly renovated property, why we are not content with the apartment he gave us, why we get so angry with the other tenants, who, by the way, are all also recipients of his grace.

Church, what in your life needs to die? If that sounds hard to you, it should. But don’t miss the promise. Look again at vv. 13–14.

. . . if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 14 For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.

As you kill your sin, you don’t earn sonship, you display it.

In passing before we go to the next point. Let me mention something about the word “sons” in the phrase “sons of God.” Later in the passage, which I’ll read in a moment, Paul uses the more general “children of God” not just “sons of God.” Those more critical to the Bible might take this to be evidence of patriarchal influence on the Bible. It’s actually the exact opposite.

In the first century, only a son would inherit the full and biggest blessing from the father. So, if Paul had spoken of “daughters of God,” many would have gone, “Well, that’s great, but daughters don’t get it all.” This is why Paul says “sons of God”; it’s not to slight what it means to be a “daughter of God” but to say that if you are a “child of God”—whether a son or daughter—you get the full inheritance of the father. Paul speaks of sons of God to celebrate the beautiful reality of adoption into God’s family, namely, that as a daughter of God, you have equal standing in the father’s house. All the children are sons, even when they are daughters.

2. Live as sons (in the assurance of the Spirit), vv. 15–17

Look with me again at the rest of the verses in our passage.

15 For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” 16 The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

That word of Abba denotes tenderness and intimacy. I don’t think pastors have been wrong equating Abba with our name Daddy. One pastor said, “I don’t feel respected if my children call me Dr. Ortlund. I feel put off” (Ray Ortlund, “God’s Grace Is Better Than We Think” from Romans 8:12–16,” March 30, 2019). In the same way, my children don’t call me Reverend Vrbicek. They call me Daddy.

In the gospels we read of Jesus one time speaking to his Father as “Abba Father.” Do you know the context? Let me read it to you.

32 And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” 33 And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. 34 And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” 35 And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. 36 And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Mark 14:32–36)

The word Abba was squeezed out of Jesus during his greatest moments of suffering. Think about that. When our savior suffered, that’s when he cries, “Daddy!” That context should inform what we read here in Romans.

In contemporary, western Christianity we often have the assumption that we know our sonship best when we feel the most blessed. That’s not what this passage says, though. I’ll put it like this. We often assume as we stand in some alpine meadow with the sun shining and our bellies full and our bodies strong, we confidently cry out, “I am a child of God.” We’re joyful and triumphant.

But this cry of Abba Father is more like the helpless cry of a scared child in the dark who, rather than trying to find his own way out of the pain and rather than giving up in utter despair, instinctively shouts out “Daddy! Daddy! Are you there?”

That instinctive cry for Dad is not actually according to this passage an instinct but the work of the Spirit within the child of God. This is the deeper joy and gritty triumph of Romans 8.

When I first received my driver’s license in high school I was a pretty bad driver. I admit it. The number of my accidents reached the double digits. Most were at low speed and in parking lots, but one was not. It was an early Saturday morning in the spring. The roads were wet, and before you exit the highway you round a huge curve. The tires on my minivan slipped, the van fishtailed and scraped the guardrail. I stopped in the grass and got out. The headlight on the passenger side dangled like a detached eyeball. It was like someone took a knife in the side of the van and slashed.

I got back in, drove to the exit, and the other two minutes it took to get to the high school parking lot. I parked as far away as I could so no one would see. I was on the way to a track meet and had to catch the bus. In the locker room I called home to tell my father. We didn’t have cell phones. I remember staring at the red brick wall wondering what he would say. “Dad, I messed up,” and told him what happened. His first words were not, “You stupid son. How many times have we told you?” Instead, he said, “Are you okay?”

You can’t manipulate your impulses; they just sort of get squeezed out. When I whispered Daddy, love and care and concern squeezed out. He told me to get on the bus and we’d deal with it later. So I did. On the way out of the school campus, the bus full of my teammates drove by my minivan, and everyone laughed at me. But I knew my father loved me.

Conclusion

After Jesus was resurrected, he had numerous conversations with his disciples. In Luke 24, we read of Jesus speaking about how suffering comes before glory.

44 Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, 46 and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead . . . (Luke 24:44–46)

For Jesus, the truest Son of God, suffering came before glory. This is what Paul says of us too.

16 The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

If children, then heirs, Paul says. I don’t know what suffering you’re experiencing. I don’t know if you’re in high school, and everyone is laughing at you. I don’t know if slaying your sin is more difficult than you ever could have imagined. I don’t know if your parents divorced when you were twelve, and you’ve never had a Christmas as a complete family since. But I do know, that if you are a child, you are an heir. His inheritance becomes your inheritance. And if you are a child with a full inheritance coming, you can call God, Abba Father whenever you need him.

Prayer

Pray with me as the music team returns to lead us in our final song. Let’s pray . . .

My Heart Is Full: A Miniature Memoir after Five Years of Ministry

John Piper has said that “God will hide from you much of your fruit [from your ministry efforts]. You will see enough to be assured of his blessing, but not so much as to think you could live without it” (The Supremacy of God in Preaching, 25).

I’ve found this to be true. I hear enough encouragement in ministry that I don’t want to quit—most of the time. But I don’t tend to hear so much encouragement as to become proud—at least I hope I haven’t become proud.

But the receiving of encouragement is not always so balanced of a thing in the short run. It’s a lot like gaining and losing weight. When you are, on the whole, losing weight, you still gain weight each time you eat, even if the total calories you burn create a weekly deficit. And when, on the whole, you’re gaining weight, each time you exercise or do any movement, or make no movement as you sleep, your body burns calories. Encouragement and discouragement in ministry are like that, something in constant flux.

It’s fair to say that encouragement didn’t come my way often when I first arrived at my current church five years ago. Early on, I never really wanted to leave, nor did I feel like anyone especially wanted me to leave. But I sort of had this sense that if I did leave, no one would miss me too much. People didn’t love or hate my pastoring; they seemed indifferent. That might be overstating things, but it’s how I felt.

I’m not sure of all the reasons I perceived these feelings of indifference. In hindsight, I believe the largest contributing factor was my change in role. At my former church, encouragement dripped into my inbox like it was hooked up to an IV bag, and the encouragement was broad and steady.

But at my last church, I was an associate teaching pastor not a senior teaching pastor. Church members seem to like rooting for an associate pastor, especially if he’s trying hard and improving. I’d preach an okay-ish sermon one week, but then a few months later I might preach a sermon that was a little better than just okay. People would let me know ways I had improved. They’d show me notes they took during the sermon. Then, eventually, I’d preach a few sermons that could almost be considered good, at least by associate pastor standards. A few times near the end I might have even preached well. That was fun. Again, the congregation rooted for me. Who doesn’t want an underdog to win?

When five years ago I came to Community Evangelical Free Church no longer an associate teaching pastor but a senior teaching pastor, someone also pulled the IV out of my inbox. It’s not that anyone ever said this outright, but it almost felt like people were thinking, Hey, you’re a senior teaching pastor now; we sort of expect your sermons to be good, and the same goes for your counseling, discipleship, Bible knowledge, administration, and everything else you do.

For whatever deficit of encouragement there was in the first few years—whether it was an actual deficit or it was just perception, only the Lord knows—I certainly know now that my church is rooting for me. Last weekend my church gave me a big dose of encouragement as we celebrated my five-year anniversary. A few members of the original search team, staff, elders, my small group, and a few other friends, gave up an evening to share ways that my wife and I have blessed them through our ministry here. They even prayed over us. My heart is full.

In one note, a dear friend wrote,

I see you in the trenches week in and week out wrestling with the Scriptures, honing your preaching craft, writing for the edification of God’s people, centering (and re-centering) your work, ministry, and family on the gospel. . . . Over the last five years you’ve made gospel-centeredness tangible.

That note and the other notes hold more life-giving encouragement than I feel comfortable sharing here. I don’t want my reflections to be considered self-serving. But one thing stood out as people around the room shared: the wide cross-section of life that pastoral ministry occupies. For one couple, I had officiated the weddings of two of their daughters. For another couple, I had visited them in the hospital while they sat beside the bed of a dying parent, once for a father and once for a mother. I had also prayed with new mothers and fathers in hospitals when their children were born. With others, we’d shared tears and prayers and pans of brownies in homes during countless small group meetings. And all of them had endured my preaching. Speaking of preaching . . .

My best friend, Mike, had a raffle of sorts to see who could guess how many sermons I had preached in the last five years. My co-pastor and I alternate preaching, so it wasn’t difficult to do a little math and make a decent guess. My guess didn’t count, but I thought it might have been around 110, which turned out to be a little high. In a few seasons, like last year when we renovated a building, my preaching frequency slowed a bit. The answer was 104 sermons in the last five years, which amounts to something like 400,000 words. That’s a lot of words.

Do you remember those arcade games with a mechanical bar that slides back and forth, continually nudging a huge stack of coins resting on a shelf? You play the game by dropping in coins and hoping the mechanical bar will nudge the stack in such a way that some eventually fall off the ledge. That’s often how I think about preaching and pastoral ministry. Preaching is a series of tiny nudges. There are the granular nudges in 400,000 individual words and the aggregate nudges in 104 completed sermons. With most nudges, nothing seems to happen. So in faith you reload again. And again. And again.

But then sometimes the nudges connect. Change happens. People are helped and healed. I’m thankful my church cared enough about me to show me the fruit from a few of my ministry nudges.

My heart is full.

* Photo by Amanda Herrold Photography

How (Not) to Be a Miserable Comforter

A few times a year, I post one of my recent sermons. Our church is preaching through the book of Job, and below is the audio and manuscript from my sermon last Sunday. In the sermon I explore things we must avoid if we are going to be helpful to those around us who are hurting. I also tell the story of when our family went through some significant suffering.  

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This morning we are continuing our sermon series through the book of Job. This is the fourth week of ten. Thus far in this series, we haven’t missed reading a single verse. That’s going to change. The book of Job has 42 chapters, and this is the first sermon where we’ll have to do a good bit of summarizing. In Week 1, we met Job, this great man from the land of Uz. In Week 2, the bottom fell out in his life—home and health collapsed as the evil one drew back his bow. In Week 3, Job’s friends arrived, and they sat in silence as Job began to lament. Now, in Week 4, Job’s friends, his comforters, begin to speak with Job, and it doesn’t go well. In fact, in chapter 16, Job says, “miserable comforters are you all” (v. 2). His friends, his comforters, are miserable—in Job’s estimation and God’s. This morning we are going to explore some of the things that made them so miserable. But I don’t merely want to stay in the land of Uz. I believe that to study this book rightly, we’ll need to also think about how we can avoid their mistakes.

I’ll read portions of the book of Job in the sermon, but I want to begin by reading just one verse from the book of Proverbs. The verse teaches that truth is sharp; it has a point to it, which means that using truth requires wisdom, and if you don’t have wisdom, you’ll hurt yourself and others. Proverbs 26:9 says,

Like a thorn that goes up into the hand of a drunkard
    is a proverb in the mouth of fools.

Prayer…

Introduction

I mentioned at the start that we would not be reading every verse. To understand why, you need to understand something of the structure of the book of Job. The book of Job begins with the account of Job losing nearly everything, and the book ends with a short account of everything—and then some—being restored.

In the middle of the book, people talk to each other—a lot! Here’s the order: Job talks, then Friend 1 talks (Eliphaz). Then Job talks and Friend 2 talks (Bildad). Then Job talks and then Friend 3 talks (Zophar). From chapters 3 to 31, this cycle of Job-Friend/Job-Friend/Job-Friend happens three times . . . well, almost three times. The last cycle is broken short. Then in chapter 32 a young guy comes onto the scene and he talks. His name is Elihu. And when Elihu is finished talking, God talks. Or rather, God asks question after question after question. That’s a lot of talking.

We’ll have a few sermons that come from passages in the middle portion of the book, the talking parts. My job this morning is to represent Job’s friends and explore what made them miserable comforters.

But before I get into them, I’ll say this. When I preached two weeks ago, I covered nearly all of chapter 1 and 2, which were very full chapters. I even preached an extra 10 minutes longer than usual, and I still felt like all I was able to do was observe what was going on in the passage, let alone do much by way of illustration and application. At the end of the sermon, I mentioned how I hoped to have time for more of this later. And we do. So I’ll be begin with a story.

Several years ago, I got a short phone call from my wife. This was before we lived here in Harrisburg. We lived in Tucson, AZ at the time. On the call, Brooke really only asked one question. After our greeting, she asked if I saw that our house was listed online? I said that I hadn’t. I hung up the phone after the call, walked outside and confirmed a few details, and then made a phone call to the realtor.

It’s sort of a cliché when we talk about being so unsettled that you feel like you are going to be sick, to throw up, but that’s how I felt. We had been trying to sell our home for two years—a home we didn’t even live in anymore. When a contract on the home looked like it was going to materialize, we moved to Tucson, so I could work in a church. But then the contract didn’t materialize. And I asked a friend to live in my house for only $200 a month if he’d just mow the yard, which was 1/7 of the cost to own the house. And 18 months later, he was still living there. Our savings were almost gone, and one afternoon I remember going to CarMax to see how much I could get for my Ford Escape, which I found out would only get me another month or two, and we’d be in the same situation.

So we made this whole plan to take our house of the market and put it back on again. If we did it right, the timing would make it so that the previous time on the market would start over at zero. (At least those were the rules at the time.) But through an administrative error, the new realtor one day got back to the office and just listed it online some 15 days too early to restart the “clock”—and listed with no pictures. That’s why I felt sick.

Oh, and I should add a few months before I got that phone call, my wife had a miscarriage, which lead to some other on-going complications. And I should add that our landlord in Tucson just doubled our rent. And I should add that my job wasn’t as stable as it seemed when I first moved to this new city. My world felt unstable, like everything I was standing on was moving under my feet.

Think about an A-frame ladder. A-frame ladders are, relatively speaking, stable. They have a low center of gravity and a wide base. It’s stable. You can biff an A-frame ladder, and it returns to normal, if it even moves at all. When we went through that season, it was like I had been flipped upside down. Rather than a wide base and low center of gravity, all that was flipped. Everything was unstable. And if someone only whispered to me that all my calamities were because of my sin and lack of faith, I might have toppled over. This is how Job is when his friends arrive. He’s been honoring God, but yet his life has become unstable. If someone only hints that this is his fault, he might topple over.

And remember what Jason said last week. These are not just any friends. These friends are subtly flagged by the author of the book as wise men of the world—they are from countries noted for their wisdom. It’s like having grief counselors from Harvard, Princeton, and Yale, Jason said. And the wisdom the world has to offer Job is miserable.

Now, let’s spend the rest of our time getting into passages and talking about what made them so miserable.

1. Miserable Comforters Confuse Proverbs and Promises

The first thing that makes a miserable comforter is confusing a proverb and a promise. Both proverbs and promises are wonderful things. The Bible has many, many of each. But they are different things and things that should not be confused. Let me read a portion of chapter 18 to show you what I mean. This is Bildad speaking for the second time.

18 Then Bildad the Shuhite answered and said...
5 “Indeed, the light of the wicked is put out,
    and the flame of [the wicked person’s] fire does not shine.
6 The light is dark in [the wicked person’s] tent,
    and [the wicked person’s] lamp above him is put out.
7 [The wicked person’s] strong steps are shortened,
    and his own schemes throw him down.
8 For he is cast into a net by his own feet,
    and he walks on its mesh.
9 A trap seizes him by the heel;
    a snare lays hold of him...

19 [The wicked person] has no posterity or progeny among his people,
    and no survivor where he used to live.
20 They of the west are appalled at his day,
    and horror seizes them of the east.
21 Surely such are the dwellings of the unrighteous,
    such is the place of him who knows not God.”

How would you summarize these words? I might summarize them this way: Cheaters never win. They always get what they deserve. What Bildad says here is true as a proverb. A proverb, biblical speaking, is a statement about how God has generally set up the world. They are short statements that are designed to be memorable (e.g., cheaters never win). And because they are designed to be memorable, they do not have qualifications and disclaimers. If you clutter a proverb up with all sorts of qualifications, then the punchiness and memorableness are lost. (e.g., “many hands make light work,” but if you have a small room and too many people, well then, the work gets harder.) Part of handling proverbs rightly is having the wisdom to know their limits.

Yes, as Bildad says, most of the time when wicked people use wicked means to get ahead in life, they are crushed in their own devices. But if we could speak with Bildad, we’d want to ask him, “Bildad, is that true all of the time? Do you mean to tell me that this general truth that you have observed about the world is always true? Do you mean to tell me that a wicked person has never gone free, never gotten away with what they’ve done? No, Bildad, of course they do; sometimes the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer.”

I’m just picking one example from the many that could be mentioned in Job. You can hardly read any one of the friends’ speeches and not see aspects of their confusion about proverbs and promises.

Let me say it another way. What makes a miserable comforter is to believe that sin and suffering are in a relationship and that relationship is a one-to-one relationship. You’ll be a miserable comforter if you believe that if a person does something wrong, God will crush them—always. And to be a miserable comforter is to believe prosperity and righteousness are in a one-to-one relationship. If you do something right, God will reward you—always.

Let me make it more personal. Let me read Proverbs 22:6 and ask a question.

Train up a child in the way he should go;
    even when he is old he will not depart from it.

Is that a promise or a proverb? Is God saying wisdom seeks to raise children up in the fear and admonition of the Lord, and—generally speaking—when patterns of godliness are ingrained from an early age and the goodness and grace of God are tasted at an early age—generally speaking—those children who see an authentic relationship with God modeled before them—generally speaking—will not depart from such a beautiful way of life when they are older?

Or, is this verse saying that if you do everything right as a parent, then your children will always become good, Christians, and if you don’t do what is right, then your children will always end up hating God? Which is it?

“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it” is a proverb, not a promise. It’s a general truth about how God has set up the world, namely, as a cause-and-effect world. Good causes—generally speaking—produce good effects. But that proverb starts to fall apart when it’s treated as a promise. And when this verse is treated as a promise, much confusion and much misery are bound to follow. When Job’s friends get proverbs and promises mixed up, it certainly causes Job all kinds of misery. Let’s go to the next point to see what this view leads them to do.

2. Miserable Comforters Speak Beyond What They Know

The next thing that makes a miserable comfortable miserable is when they speak beyond what they can know. Job’s friends are so committed to their one-to-one view of the world (sin leads to suffering and righteousness to prosperity), that even though they don’t know why Job’s suffering, they believe they can make up the reason he is suffering with absolute certainty.

Let me show you two examples, one from chapter 8 and the other from 22. The first also comes from Bildad. This is from his opening speech. Look at Job 8:1–4,

8 Then Bildad the Shuhite answered and said:
2 “How long will you say these things,
    and the words of your mouth be a great wind?
3 Does God pervert justice?
    Or does the Almighty pervert the right?
4 If your children have sinned against him,
    he has delivered them into the hand of their transgression. (Job 8:1–4)

In v. 2 he says, “Your words are nothing more than hot air, Job.” And look at v. 4. He says, “Job, the reason your children are dead, is because they are sinners.” A miserable comforter today might say, “The reason your kidneys failed, the reason you have cancer, the reason your house didn’t sell, the reason your child died of SIDS . . . is because you’re a sinner—not a general sinner, as we all are, but a sinner in particular ways that lead you to deserve the particular punishment you got.”

Do you see why they are miserable? Bildad doesn’t know what he’s talking about. This wisdom of the world wasn’t in the secret council room of God when things were discussed, but still, it claims to know why things happened the way they did.

Now look at Job 22:1, 5–10, and 21. This is from the final cycle of conversations. Eliphaz speaks in this way,  

22 Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered and said:
5 Is not your evil abundant?
    There is no end to your iniquities.
6 For you have exacted pledges of your brothers for nothing
    and stripped the naked of their clothing.
7 You have given no water to the weary to drink,
    and you have withheld bread from the hungry.
8 The man with power possessed the land,
    and the favored man lived in it.
9 You have sent widows away empty,
    and the arms of the fatherless were crushed.
10 Therefore snares are all around you,
    and sudden terror overwhelms you...
21 “Agree with God, and be at peace;
    thereby good will come to you.

Every word of this is a lie. In Eliphaz’s first speech in chapter 4, he conceded that Job was likely a righteous man (vv. 3–6). But then all the friends start dancing around the massive elephant that they believe is in the room: Job is a wicked sinner, and if only he would come to his senses and repent, God would restore him. The whole time they are wondering who will be the one to say this outright to Job. Eliphaz is the one.  

Did you notice that line in v.  9 about widows? Eliphaz say that in Job’s prior life, he “sent widows away empty.” I take this to mean that Job got his wealth by being a wicked miser.

One of the reasons I spent so much time in just reading and observing chapters 1 and 2 a few weeks ago, is for this moment right now. The narrator called Job a blameless man. God called Job a blameless man, and though he hated it, it seems Satan had to acknowledge it too. But here, these miserable comforters reinterpret the backstory of Job’s life. They speak beyond what they can know. This is one reason why Job is so exasperated. In a long, final appeal to his friends, Job says in chapter 29 that in his former life he “caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy” (v. 13). This is quite the contrast from what his friends tell him, but one I’m inclined to agree with because of what God had said about him.

To go back to my ladder metaphor, Job has been turned upside down; his center of gravity has moved up; his base has shrunk. He’s wobbly. He’s unstable. And the wisdom of the world comes along and says, “This is your fault.”

3. Miserable Comforters Speak Wrongly about God

Let me briefly mention the final thing that makes them miserable. It’s the thing that God mentions at the very end of the book. Look at 42:7,

7 After the Lord had spoken these words to Job, the Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite: “My anger burns against you and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.

God looks through all the aspects of Job’s friends’ words that make them miserable, some of which I pointed out and others I didn’t have time for, and God says, the main issue is that they are not speaking rightly about him. Don’t miss this. What you believe about God is eminently practical for every aspect of your life, including when you’re comforting others.

Applications

So many applications could be made. You want to be a wise friend, a wise counselor? Soak in good theology. This is one reason why we give huge portions of our service to thinking soberly about the book God wrote, and why we should spend our lives, not just on Sundays, soaking in it. When we do this, we can come to people who are suffering, and we’ll be able to do everything we can to deepen their trust in God, to lower their center of gravity and widen their base, so to speak.

And when we don’t know something, we should just say we don’t know it. We need to look people the eyes as they cry, and as we cry with them, and say, “I don’t know why this strange providence of God has come upon you. And I don’t know if we’ll ever know in this life. But let me help you hold on to God even as he’s going to hold on to you.”

And Jason mentioned many other, very practical things we need to do last week regarding the effort to help those suffering. When people are suffering, we write cards, make meals, mow the yard, rake leaves, clean bathrooms. We show up; we talk for a bit; then we leave. And with our words we point people to the goodness of God, even though it seems like the storm makes him and his goodness difficult to see.

Conclusion

Speaking of the goodness of God, I want to close by talking about that. There is a saying that goes around these days that says, That escalated quickly. We usually say it when we observe that someone took something out of proportion. So, someone stubs their toe, and they start calling down curses from heaven on the nightstand. “Woe to you, nightstand. Curse the tree that gave birth to you.” And we say, “That escalated quickly.”

When God says, that Job’s friends had spoken about him wrongly, God did not escalate quickly, and when he did, he did not overstep proportion. “The Lord is slow to anger” (Exodus 34:6). God listened to their hot air for chapter, after chapter, after chapter, until finally, he says, “Enough.” Because of God’s love for Job, because of God’s love for Job’s friends, and because of God’s love for his own reputation and glory, God says, “Enough.”

Sometimes when Christians talk about the book of Job, we can focus so much on the suffering and sin and Satan and how God fits in all those things, that we miss that God has given this book to make us wise. The book of Job is part of what are called the wisdom books in the Bible. They are those books that are especially given by God to his people to make them wise.

Think about that. Not only does God love you so much that he would send Jesus the savior to the earth and live perfectly and then die in your place for your sins, and then rise again on the third day, defeating sin and death, and then sit in heaven where he rules and reigns and awaits to come again for you—but not only has he done all of that, but he loves you so much that in the meantime while Christians wait for his glorious return, he has given us instructions to make us wise. We can get so focused on chapters 1 and 2 of Job and forget that God has given us a great gift in this book, a book showing us how to relate to people who are suffering, and in many ways, how not to relate to them, how not to be a miserable comforter. That may feel like a small thing. But I know story after story of people who were suffering and some well-meaning Christian comes to him or her and says, in essence, “This is your fault, and if you’d just have enough faith, your circumstances would change.” God loves us so much that his salvation includes his desire to make us wise. Be careful with your words, Christian.

There was an article on a popular Christian website a few years ago called, “What Grieving People Wish You Knew at Christmas” by Nancy Guthrie (Desiring God, December 21, 2016). It’s a short article. It came out just four days before Christmas in 2016. It’s just my guess, but it would seem that the average number of “shares” for articles on that website are maybe 1–3k shares. A good article might get 10k shares and a great one might get 30k or even 50k shares. The article, “What Grieving People Wish You Knew at Christmas,” an article that gave Christians wisdom for how to speak to people who are suffering, was shared over 1.3 million times, many of those in the first few days. It’s the most-shared article of all time on Desiring God’s website. We are hungry for wisdom, especially when people are grieving.

I talked about not confusing proverbs and promises. Let me close with a promise from Jesus. This is Jesus speaking to his disciples. He tells them,

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

Now that’s a promise. No matter what happens in this life—whether it’s your fault or not—if you are trusting in Christ, he will hold you. Take that to heart, Christian.

* Photo Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash

Do You See What God Sees?

Once or twice a year I post a recent sermon. Today is one of those times. On Sunday, which was Mother’s Day, I preached from Luke 13 about a “daughter of Abraham” (v. 16).

Abraham in the Old Testament is the quintessential patriarch of our faith. God promises Abraham and his descendants that they will inherit the world and be a blessing to the nations (Gen. 12:1–3). If you grew up in the church, perhaps you sang the song “Father Abraham.” “Father Abraham,” it goes, “had many sons. And I am one of them, and so are you . . .” You probably never sang about his many daughters. But in this passage, we meet one of them. And she meets God. 

You can listen to the sermon here or read a rough manuscript below.

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It’s possible to become so focused on something, so protective of something that you actually miss the thing you are trying to protect. When we had construction workers here this winter, they took various safety precautions as they went about their work. The general contractor even has a safety coordinator that goes around all their jobs just to make sure people take necessary precautions.

But what if, over the course of the job, as this safety coordinator came to Community to inspect things, he noticed how I continually increased the precautionary safety measures. At first it was just hardhat and safety glasses to be worn all the time, even from the moment a worker gets out of the car. And then it moved to not only steel-toed boots but Kevlar vests and body armor.

And then it got to the place where, before a worker could get to work, I would proceed to tape them in bubble wrap head to toe. Can you imagine me, a pastor, wrapping full grown women and men in bubble wrap? It’s absurd. It’s not even safe anymore. How could one breathe?

Lot’s could be said about this silly story but had this actually happened, I can assure you that whatever we could say, we would not be saying it in this building; we never would have moved in! No work would have been done.

That’s what happens in this passage. A focus on the letter of man’s law to the utter neglect of the spirit of the God’s law creates sinful absurdity. Let’s just read a few verses at a time, and I’ll make comments as we come to things.

The Setting, vv. 10–11

First, there is the setting in vv. 10–11. Let’s re-read them.

10 Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. 11 And behold, there was a woman who had had a disabling spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not fully straighten herself.

The story begins seemingly unassuming. We don’t know much about this particular synagogue, but we might picture something like a small church, a place where believers gathered each week to hear the Scripture read and taught.

But the careful reader is already cued into a potential tension in these opening lines. We read of “the synagogue” and “the Sabbath” and “[Jesus] teaching.” These three have come together several times already (4:15, 16, 33, 44; 6:6). Luke 4:16 even calls it his custom to teach in a synagogue on a Sabbath. The careful reader might as well have read in v. 11, “It was a windy afternoon, and on the horizon were giant thunderclouds, and two armies faced each other.”

Then we read of this woman, a woman who has no clue she’s just hobbled on to a battlefield. Luke certainly is drawing our attention to her. That’s one thing you need to know is particular to Luke’s gospel: Luke trains our attention on God’s love for those often shoved to the margins. In Luke’s context and many times in our own, this certainly includes women. Luke’s gospel has forty-two passages with motifs related to women, and over half of these passages are unique to his gospel, meaning they are not recorded elsewhere in the other gospels (Bock, Luke in The NIV Application Commentary Series, 373). This story in Luke 13 is one of those stories unique to his gospel.

And just look at her. We read that she “was [both] bent over and could not fully straighten herself.” Why the two descriptions? It communicates not only her default disposition (bent over) but also her inability to deviate from that default position (unable to stand up). She is hunched over all the time. If she wants to look you in the eye, she does so in a sort of sideways manner. Everything about every detail of her life is disrupted. Her walking was disrupted. Her sitting was disrupted. Her going to the bathroom was disrupted. Her rest was disrupted. Her sleep was disrupted. Her mothering was disrupted, along with intimacy with her husband, if she was married with children. But perhaps this incident happened before all that, and so no man would even court her, leaving her alone in her predicament. And all for 18 long years! This was a woman for which you’d have to whisper to your children, “Don’t stare.”

Luke tells us she had a “disabling spirit.” We don’t know exactly what that means, but later Jesus indicates that Satan was involved in this particular “binding” (v. 16). But in real-time—which is the only way we experience our pain—as this woman experienced her pain, we can only imagine the reason for her pain was as unclear to her as it is to most of us when we experience pain. Why, Lord, did this have to happen? Why, Lord, am I hurting so? Why is life so difficult? Have I done something wrong, Lord? Have you forgotten about me, Lord? How long, O Lord?

The Untying, vv. 12–13

Let’s continue reading vv. 12–13. Jesus sees her.

12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said to her, “Woman, you are freed from your disability.” 13 And he laid his hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and she glorified God.

We read that Jesus saw her, Jesus called to her, and Jesus touched her. And when he did, she was changed. She was, we might say, untied. She was loosed and set free—free to glorify God by jumping around. The Greek implies that she did not merely glorify God but that she was glorifying God, meaning it was continuous; she couldn’t stop speaking about the greatness of her God.

Let’s talk for a moment about the language of seeing and touching. In our day a religious man seeing a woman and then laying hands on her is jarring because of how many women are abused by men in positions of authority, which is especially troubling when it’s done by those in positions of religious authority.

So I pause. And I ask: Men, when you see a woman, what do you see? With what lens do you look at women? Do you look at them the way God sees them or the way a pornified culture sees them? Do you see women made in the image of God and as those who ought to be the source of your love and sacrifice, or do you see women as those who are made to be sacrificed for you?

And I pause. And I ask: Women, how do you see yourself? Do you see yourself as God sees you or as the world tells you that you are to be seen? Do you see yourself as fearfully and wonderfully made by the almighty Creator of the Universe, or do you see your worth and value in what size dress you can wear and how well you can delay the expansion of wrinkles?

O that we had the eyes of Jesus! O that we—men and women—could see the way he sees. What love, what compassion, what vision of the way things ought to be and will be someday, even someday soon.

Well, next we come to the disagreement about the Sabbath and work. But I would just mention before we read the reaction to this healing, that while a grand and glorious liberation to a captive has taken place (cf. Luke 4:18), it really didn’t take that much “work.” He saw, he spoke, he touched, he healed. Done.

Here’s an encouragement to us. If your eyesight is off, meaning you do not see with the eyes of God and the lens of Scripture, this morning—and this is good news—God can straighten you up with just a touch and a word. Done.

The Ruler’s Reaction, v. 14

Look at v. 14 to see the reaction.

14 But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, said to the people, “There are six days in which work ought to be done. Come on those days and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.”

What a contrasting picture. On the one hand, a crippled woman is now healed. And on the other hand, a powerful, healthy man now shows his deep heartsickness. The woman glorifies God, and the man is berating God. And he won’t even look at Jesus as he does it. Notice the passage points out that the coward says whatever he has to say to the people, not Jesus. He’s like someone who runs to social media to rant: There are six days in which work ought to be done. Come on those days and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day. #KeepSabbathHoly. Is God closed for business on the Sabbath?

This ruler’s words are absurd, aren’t they? Jesus thinks so. But we’d be helped by trying to put ourselves in this ruler’s shoes. To do that, we’d have to go back in time.

When Moses came down from Mount Sinai, he came down with two tablets inscribed by the finger of God. He came down with the Ten Commandments. The fourth commandment is, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8). That’s going back some 1,400 years before Jesus. And it turns out that Gods people weren’t so great at keeping this commandment or any of the other commandments either.

For this reason the prophets began to warn of the severe punishment that God was storing up because of the way his people profaned the Sabbath. In Jeremiah 17:27 we read,  

27 But if you do not listen to me, to keep the Sabbath day holy, and not to bear a burden and enter by the gates of Jerusalem on the Sabbath day, then I will kindle a fire in its gates, and it shall devour the palaces of Jerusalem and shall not be quenched.’”

Eventually the punishment comes; the fire comes. God picked up a flamethrower called Babylon and pointed it at Jerusalem. Babylon laid siege to Zion, crippling her food supply. In a series of assaults over several years King Nebuchadnezzar led most of Israel away as captives.

While Israel is in Babylon for seventy years, all the while prophets like Ezekiel explain that a chief reason—among the many reasons—they went into exile was because they neglected the Sabbath. Ezekiel, speaking for God, says,

You have despised my holy things and profaned my Sabbaths. (22:8)

And many such things God says through him (e.g., 20:10–26; 22:26; 23:38).

When God’s people are released from their exile, the governor Nehemiah makes a huge deal of the Sabbath. He says,

15 In those days I saw in Judah people treading winepresses on the Sabbath, and bringing in heaps of grain and loading them on donkeys, and also wine, grapes, figs, and all kinds of loads, which they brought into Jerusalem on the Sabbath day. And I warned them on the day when they sold food. . . .  18 Did not your fathers act in this way, and did not our God bring all this disaster on us and on this city? Now you are bringing more wrath on Israel by profaning the Sabbath.” (13:15, 18)

When the merchants end up hanging outside the city wall, Nehemiah tells them, “If you do so again, I will lay hands on you” (13:21).

And then 500 years go by between Nehemiah and Jesus. What happens during that time is that the leaders, in a desire to never repeat the exile, they build laws on top of regulations and commandments on top of stipulations. These manmade rules were recorded in places like the Mishnah, a collection of rabbinic teachings during this time. In some places in the Mishnah there are provisions made for watering and feeding animals, but in one place in the Mishnah we read a list of 39 things prohibited on the Sabbath, things such as,

Sowing, plowing, reaping, binding sheaves, threshing, winnowing, sorting, grinding, sifting, kneading, baking, shearing wool, whitening it, combing it, dyeing it, spinning, weaving, making two loops, weaving two threads, separating two threads, tying [a knot], untying [a knot], sewing two stitches, tearing for the purpose of sewing two stitches, hunting a deer, slaughtering it, skinning it, salting it, curing its hide, scraping it, cutting it, writing two letters, erasing for the purpose of writing two letters, building, demolishing, extinguishing a flame, lighting a flame, striking with a hammer, carrying from one domain to another. (Taken from Shabbat 7.2 here.) 

And perhaps without even realizing it, they continually increased precautionary safety measures to the point that keeping the Sabbath holy meant wearing bubble wrap. Their focus on the letter of man’s law to the utter neglect of the spirit of God’s law created sinful absurdity: one of God’s leaders, a ruler of a local synagogue, berating God for doing on the Sabbath that for which the Sabbath was made, namely, healing and joy and pushing back the curse wherever it’s found.

This is what sin always does. When it is full grown, it creates absurdities (cf., James 1:15). No man who begins with pornography wants to end up addicted. No woman who wants to look beautiful intends to end up anorexic. But that’s where things can go. I can remember in college running my self absolutely ragged trying to keep up my test scores. It was an act of false worship. And even today, I sometimes marvel at how slow my Christian maturity has developed when I find myself running myself ragged trying to be the pastor I think everyone wants me to be, coveting lofty opinions from you. O, we need grace, don’t we, church?   

The Lord’s Response, vv. 15–16

And while the synagogue ruler would not take his complaint directly do Jesus, Jesus certainly takes his complaint directly to him and every other leader who sided with him. Look at vv. 15–16.

15 Then the Lord answered him, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it away to water it? 16 And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the Sabbath day?”

There are seven recorded miracles that Jesus performs on a Sabbath day (See this helpful chart here), which leads me to believe controversy over the Sabbath wasn’t a battle Jesus fell into by accident. No, Jesus saw the religious leaders draw a line in the sand, and he walked across it with loving fire in his eyes.

Jesus makes one statement (“you hypocrites”), and he asks two questions. These questions, in case it isn’t apparent, are rhetorical. You’re not supposed to answer them out loud. You’re supposed to sit in them. Or better, they sit on us, holding us down until we come to our senses.

Jesus, as he so often does, argues from the lesser to the greater (cf. 11:11–13 and 12:6–7). If it’s okay for an animal to be untied on the Sabbath and be led to water, how much more on a Sabbath is it necessary to untie this woman, this daughter of Abraham? (By the way, that’s the only place this phrase is used in the Bible.) This daughter of Abraham is an heir of the world through the promise of God, and the religious leaders were essentially saying through their actions that this woman was less than a donkey.

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If we widen out a bit away from this woman specifically, it might be helpful to ask what you think the Sabbath is for? On this ordinary Sabbath something extraordinary happened. Just like it does in every ordinary church, with ordinary pastors, preaching ordinary sermons—God sees fit to show up. But you’d have to be there to see it.

I actually don’t think in the New Covenant era, the time after Jesus’s death and resurrection, that we are required to keep the Sabbath in the same way it was kept in the Old Testament, but I do think we are not helped by our general neglect of Sabbath rest. I’ve been convicted of this lately. I’ve read four books loosely around the topic of busyness and contentment and Sabbath rest. One author, a pastor in Boston, writes in his new book The Art of Rest,

If you’re concerned that by embracing regular Sabbath rest you’re in danger of coming under some harsh legalism, simply ask yourself how not observing the Sabbath rest is going for you. It’s not rest that threatens to oppress you, but your refusal to. (Adam Mabry, The Art of Rest, 48)

I guess I’m arguing things both ways because I see the passage do that very thing. There is a danger to adding rules to the Sabbath to make something absurd. But on the other hand, many of us have gone so far the other way that we are missing the joy and healing that are offered on the Sabbath. Build rhythms of rest into your life. Build into your life relaxed and unhurried time in the presence of God. Build into your life relaxed and unhurried fellowship with God’s people.

The Polarization, v. 17

Let’s wrap this up by reading the final verse.

17 As he said these things, all his adversaries were put to shame, and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him.

This story in Luke 13 is the last time recorded in the gospels that Jesus teaches in a synagogue. You can see why. A polarization takes place around the person of Jesus.

We read that “all his adversaries were put to shame, and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him.” All and all. Sadly, their shame, it would seem, does not lead them to repentance. In a few weeks we’ll come to chapter 14 where Jesus heals again on the Sabbath (vv. 1–6) and says similar things. He repeats himself because they didn’t get it. The grace of God displayed before them made their hearts of stone harder.

I think this widening out is an accurate historical summary of what took place. But also, in part, this widening out in v. 17 has the rhetorical effect of pressing us to deal with Jesus. What do you think of him? Where do you stand? Will you be content with your manmade ladders to heaven, or will you let Jesus touch you, heal you, and make you whole again.

As I said earlier, Luke’s gospel highlights God’s special compassion for those who society, even religious society, does not value, which often includes women and mothers. If on this Sabbath Lord’s Day you feel exhausted, beat down, and lonely, take heart. Jesus sees you. Jesus loves you.

 * Photo by David Monje on Unsplash.

Traveling Instructions

For all the discord and disconnection that social media seems to unintentionally generate, it can also help us, believe it or not, make new friends—real friends.

Kevin Halloran and I connected on social media a few years ago. He works in Christian ministry, loves to write, and is heavily involved in a church in the same denomination as me. All this means we have a lot in common.

Once, when I posted a picture on Instagram of a “rejection email” I received about an article I had submitted for publication, Kevin shot me a direct message, letting me know of another website that might want the piece. He was right. They did.

A few weeks ago we were able to hang out in person, and he told me more about his ministry. Kevin works for Leadership Resources, an organization that equips and encourages pastors around the world “to teach God’s word with God’s heart.” They provide pastoral training made for missions. (Their website has lots of information about how you can partner with LRI to ignite movements of God’s Word worldwide.)

Kevin gave me a booklet that Leadership Resources produced to help train people to teach the Bible. This is an important topic for me. In fact, last year I wrote a series of blog posts about this very topic. The booklet is incredibly helpful, not only to me as a professional Bible teacher but also for every Christian who wants to grow in their ability to teach the Bible.

Below is an excerpt from the booklet called “Traveling Instructions.” This principle explains why it is imperative that we understand the original context and the author’s intent before we apply a passage to us. If you want to get the whole Dig and Discover booklet, it can be downloaded for free.

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Dig and Discover Hermeneutical Principles, "Traveling Instructions," page 5

The Principle: In order for us to understand how to apply God’s Word to our lives today, we first need to travel back to understand the message expressed through the author in the original context.

How Does Traveling Instructions Work?

(1) Not Taking the Direct Route. We are often tempted to read God’s Word and try to apply what is said directly to our lives. But God first spoke through the heart of an author to readers in a different time and place. And so, instead of taking a direct route from God’s Word to our lives today, we first need to travel back to consider what that author was saying to the original readers, and why.

(2) Hearing the Intent of the Author. We must travel back to listen to what God was saying through an author in the original context – the literary context of the message of the book, the historical context of the background situation, and even the biblical context of the overall story and message of the Bible. And while here are many aspects of context which we could explore, we want to focus our attention on those aspects which help us understand what the author was saying, why he said this to these people, and what response he desired from his message.

(3) Applying the Message to Us Today. The end goal of Traveling Instructions is application. After we have discovered the author’s intended response to the message he gave, we can then travel to our day and ask how that response would be seen in our lives and in the lives of the people where we live and minister.

Why Is Traveling Instructions Important?

If we take the shortcut and try to immediately apply God’s Word to our lives, we risk misinterpreting what God was saying through His Word, missing the way God intends for us to respond, and misleading the people to whom we minister.

However, when we do take the time to travel correctly, we discover the wonder of God’s heart expressed through the original context, and the transforming power of His Word for our lives today.

* On this principle, the booklet has this footnote: “Based on original material © The Proclamation Trust with kind permission, www.proctrust.org.uk.”

* Photo by Ben White on Unsplash.

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When a Door Closes and a Window Doesn’t Open

Jared C. Wilson is quickly becoming one of my favorite Christian authors. Writing about suffering and the goodness of God, in his book The Story of Everything, Wilson says this: 

I have a problem with all the “chase your dreams!” cheerleading from Christian leaders. It’s not because I begrudge people who want to achieve their dreams, but because I think we don’t readily see how easy it is to conflate our dream-chasing with God’s will in Christ.

You know, it’s possible that God’s plan for us is littleness. His plan for us maybe personal failure. It’s possible that when another door closes, it’s not because he plans to open the window but because he plans to have the building fall down on you. The question we must ask ourselves is this: Will Christ be enough? (Wilson, The Story of Everything, 122.)

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It’s not that this quote is necessarily the sum of all that Christianity is. No one paragraph of any book is able to capture all that Christianity is. But this paragraph does, in my opinion, reflect a theme of Christianity that is often underrepresented in our churches, even the best churches. When life is hard, tomorrow might not be better than today, at least in the way that we understand things.

Two things make Wilson’s quote especially pertinent to the life of John the Baptist. First, the statement about “littleness.” Of the several famous quotes by John the Baptist, one that he said of Jesus is this: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). Second, Wilson’s comment is relevant to John because of the statement about closing doors and not opening a window. Wilson is spoofing what is common in Christian lingo, that a closed door must mean another opportunity (a better opportunity!) will always arise. But it’s possible that won’t be the case . . . it was for John. When God sent John to prison, he didn’t get out. He was executed there (Matthew 14:1–12).

The question John must have been asking was whether Jesus would be enough for him when he actually did “decrease” and it seemed he was about to die? And the question for you and me is similar. Will Jesus be enough for us when we get “littleness” and a “window doesn’t open”?

Yes, yes he will.

When you stand up for what’s right and end up in jail (as was the case with John); when you have cancer; when you lose your job; when your house is robbed; when your parents get a divorce . . . Jesus is still Jesus. And he’s enough for you. At his weakest moment, God told the Apostle Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). Today, if you are weak, know that Jesus is strong and he loves you dearly, even if you don’t understand your own pain and God’s plan for it.

* This has been excerpted and adapted from a sermon I recently preached at Community Evangelical Free Church. You can listen below. 

[Picture by Gabriele Diwald / Unsplash]

Three Sentences that Changed Things for Me

Just a few times a year I share my sermons on my blog. This week and next week, I’m sharing sermons I recently preached from the gospel of Luke. They were in different contexts, one was as a guest in a former church (this week), and the other was in my current local church (next week).

Below is the written introduction to this week’s sermon, as well as the link to listen to the whole thing.

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When I was graduating from seminary and looking for jobs in local churches, one particular application stands out in my memory. When they asked about my hobbies, among other things, I wrote these three sentences:

I enjoy reading and writing. This is somewhat strange for me to admit to myself, coming from my engineering background where I neither enjoyed nor did much of either. Yet, as time has passed, largely under the influence of seminary-forced papers, irritation has grown into love.

And it did: irritation grew into love.

They were just three small sentences, but they changed things for me. If you had asked me five minutes before I wrote them, I might have told you this is how I felt, but I’m not sure I would have because I had never articulated the feelings before.

Yet if I’m honest, this hobby of mine—this passion for writing—hasn’t always been contained within its proper bounds, even now. Sometimes the things we love are good things, but our love and our enjoyment of them grow beyond the rightful place and size. Pastor and author Timothy Keller speaks of this as a “good thing becoming an Ultimate thing,” which, he says, is when idolatry happens. He says this because “good things” should never become “god-like things” in our lives.

So, for example, I recently submitted a few articles to various online publications, as well as a longer writing project to a publisher. I confess that too often in quiet moments my mind has drifted to whether or not these articles would be received well, whether they would make the cut, whether or not I was someone who mattered. Too frequently and too easily, my thoughts would drift into the realm of daydream and fantasy.

Your hobbies and preoccupations might not be mine; I doubt for most they are. But I bet you do have something that it doesn’t take much of a lull in the action for you to begin thinking about it. Maybe it’s your hobby or family or career or health. It doesn’t take much downtime for you to pull out your phone, begin browsing, and start daydreaming.

If you had your wishes, what do you want to get out of life? What do you long for? What do you hope for? What do you dream about? What keeps you motivated?

You don’t have to have an answer now, but I will tell you this: I think the way Simon Peter would have answered these questions is altogether different before the events in Luke 5:1-11 happened and after they happened. A huge catch of fish was what he desperately wanted, but when he got it, he realized he shouldn’t have treasured stuff more than Jesus.

[Picture taken by Dustin Tramel at New Life Bible Fellowship in Tucson, AZ]

This Changed My Attitude towards the Bible

Those words—“[this] changed my attitude towards the Bible”—are from pastor and author Timothy Keller in his most recent book Hidden Christmas. The event he’s speaking about was a time of observing one Bible verse for an extended period of time.

Two weeks ago, I wrote about the importance of observing the Bible carefully before we come to conclusions about what a passage means and before we figure out how we are supposed to obey a passage. In short, we must observe a passage carefully before we interpret and apply it.

Talking about this importance, Keller writes:

[In the Bible, what] looks like a simple statement, when pondered, can be discovered to have multiple dimensions of meaning and endless personal applications—far more than could ever be discovered with a cursory glance.

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At [a formative] Christian conference [for me] . . . there was a session on how to read the Bible. The speaker, Barbara Boyd, said to us, “Sit down for thirty minutes and write down at least thirty things you can learn from Mark 1:17,” which reads, “’Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, ‘and I will send you out to fish for people.’” Then she instructed us, “Don’t think after 10 minutes and four or five things written down that you’ve figured it out. Take the whole thirty minutes and try to get to thirty things observed.” So we sat silently and did as told. And indeed, after about ten minutes I was pretty sure that I’d seen everything there was to see in these fifteen words. I put my pen down and wanted to spend the rest of the time daydreaming but everybody else looked like they were still working, so I picked up the pen and started pondering some more. Then I began to notice new things. If I imagined what the sentence would mean without one of its words, it was easier to assess what unique meaning it brought to the sentence. That gave me ability to get another two or three insights around each term. Then I tried to paraphrase the whole verse, putting it into my own words. That showed me more levels of meaning and implication that I had missed.

At the end of the thirty minutes, the teacher asked us to circle on our papers the best insight or the most life changing thing we had gotten out of the text. Then she said, “Okay, how many of you found this most incredible, life-changing thing in the first five minutes?” Nobody raised their hand. “Ten minutes?” Nobody raised their hand. “Fifteen minutes?” A few hands. “Twenty minutes?” A few more. “Twenty-five minutes?” Even more. That session changed my attitude toward the Bible and, indeed, my life.

Timothy Keller, Hidden Christmas: The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth of Christ (New York, NY: Viking, 2016), 105–106 (emphasis original).

[Picture by Freddy Marschall / Unsplash]

How to Study the Bible

Today I’m continuing the blog series I started a few weeks ago. It’s a primer on how to study a Bible passage, as well as how to teach that passage in a way that is clear and compelling. I’m calling the series “Backstage Pass” because I’ll be taking you “backstage of the pulpit” to see what goes into the writing of a sermon.

As I previously said, I realize not everyone will become a vocational teacher of the Bible. Nevertheless, all Christians will spend their life studying the Bible; it’s what we do.

But how do we go about studying the book that God wrote?

O – I – A

I suppose many methods can be employed to study the Bible. I’ll admit that upfront. Yet not all methods are equally helpful. There are some ways to go about Bible study that go with the grain of the passage; they glide. They do not feel forced and manipulated because the interpreter cooperates with the text.

However, there are some ways of studying the Bible that are not at all helpful. In fact, we could say they don’t necessarily force a square peg into a round hole, but rather they batter it in with a sledgehammer. In short, they do violence to the Bible.  

Several years ago, a co-worker taught me a helpful acronym. He used it to explain (in broad terms) an effective process for studying the Bible. I’m not sure where my friend first learned the acronym. (A quick internet search shows that others are using the acronym too.)

The letters are O – I – A. I use this process each week when I prepare sermons. As I’ve written before, that’s a process stretched over twenty hours. But it certainly doesn’t have to take that long. Not that I do this overtly each morning, but when I read my Bible devotionally every day, the process lasts a little over 20 minutes.

The “O” stands for observation.
Observation is the first step to understanding a passage. To observe a passage well, you need to spend time looking at it—a lot of time!

For me, this most especially happens during the translation stage of sermon preparation. But you do not need to know how to read the original languages to accurately observe a passage. Observation can be done very effectively using only English Bibles, especially if you compare several good translations. When I’m in the observation phase, I write down as many things about the passage as I can, as well as noting what questions I have about the passage. If I’m able to answer my own questions through more observation, great. If not, I revisit them later. Sometimes I eventually learn the answers to my questions and other times I don’t.

If you get stuck in your observations and need some questions to get you going deeper, consider asking a few of these questions of the passage:

1. What is this passage saying about the character of God?
2. What is this passage saying about the grace of God?
3. What is this passage saying about the way people are saved?
4. What is this passage saying generally about people?
5. More specifically, what is this passage saying about Christians?
6. More specifically, what is this passage saying about non-Christians?

The “I” stands for interpretation.
Once you have spent sufficient time observing the passage, the next step is to determine what the passage means. This is interpretation, the necessary outworking of careful observation.

To assist in the interpretation stage, it’s helpful to consult other Christians who have also observed the passage, especially those who have studied the passage in depth. Think about it like this. If you come up with an interpretation for a passage that, after 2,000 years of church history, has never before existed, then you’re probably wrong. That’s why during the interpretation phase I typically consult several Bible commentaries on the passage. Three very helpful commentary series for pastors and non-pastors are: The Bible Speaks Today (Intervarsity Press), The Expositor’s Bible Commentary (Zondervan), and God’s Word for You (The Good Book Company). Also, the English Standard Version Study Bible is a tool I regularly use.

I know some people tend to pooh-pooh Bible commentaries (yes, a very technical term). They do this, I think, because they believe using commentaries is unspiritual. An interpreter, they say, should go to the source—God, not man. I agree that we should not prioritize commentaries to the exclusion of listening to God. Indeed, the best, highest, and most authoritative source to help us understand what one passage means is to use other Bible passages to shed light on it. Let Scripture interpret Scripture, the saying goes.

But I don’t think consulting commentaries is necessarily unspiritual. I think quite the opposite is true actually. If it’s true that God has given the church “pastors and teachers” (Ephesians 4:10–11)—which he has—then it is our spiritual duty to be learners. Before we teach, we listen to learn. Again, we are not the first people in church history to study any one passage.

The final letter, “A,” stands for application.
Once you have observed the passage and rightly interpreted it (i.e., you know what it means), now you have to apply the passage to your life, and possibly the lives of others.

During the application phase you should be asking questions like, “Based on what this says, what am I now supposed to do?” and “How should I be different because of this passage?” and “How am I meant to feel in light of the truth in this passage (hopeful, encouraged, sobered, repentant, etc.)?”

You should notice something about the way I worded these questions. They all have some variation of the phrase “based on what this passage means . . .” That’s intentional. The point of biblical application is that it flows naturally from what the passage means (i.e, it’s proper interpretation). Perhaps this is obvious to you, but I mention it because it’s not obvious to many people, and even when it is, it’s quickly forgotten.

Crafting applications that arise out of the main thrust of a passage is one of the most challenging aspects of studying the Bible. Too often applications come either from a minor or peripheral aspect of the passage. But even this is better than applications that have no basis in the text, which is sadly all too common.

If you get stuck on finding the proper applications, you can go back to some of the questions I listed above related to observation. For applications, you can rephrase them “Based on what this passage says about the character of God, I/we must do what?” This tends to jog some good ideas.  

Don’t Skip Steps

When studying and teaching the Bible, it’s crucial to not skip any one of these steps. Consider an analogy from health care. If you are sick, then you surely want a doctor to spend time observing you before she interprets your particular issues and prescribes a solution. You don’t diagnose cancer and prescribe a treatment plan after a 3-minute exam.

Additionally, another error could arise by overemphasis in the opposite direction. You don’t want your doctor to spend hours and hours (which means dollars and dollars) observing you but never come to an application.

The same is true when working with a biblical text. We must observe it, interpret it, and then apply it.

One final comment before leaving this subject until the next post in this series. In a sense, this three-step process is not only linear. It’s circular. In other words, we keep going through iterations until, in the case of health care, the health challenge is resolved, or in the case of a sermon, the passage is taught.

So, if you don’t have a “teaching assignment” already on the calendar. Just pick a short passage to try. And let the observation begin . . .

[Photo by John Towner / Unsplash]

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Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth?

In last week’s post I explained a few reasons why I believe the best diet of preaching consists of “expository sermons.” In expository sermons, the point of the Bible passage is the point of the sermon. This type of preaching is over and against “topical sermons.” In topical sermons, the theme of the sermon is what drives the passage (or passages) used.

I won’t repeat the reasons for why I believe expository sermons are best, but I thought it might be helpful to illustrate what the preparation for a topical sermon might look like, at least a very particular kind of topical sermon. The type of sermon I have in mind is an “application-heavy topical sermon,” especially one done within the context of the “attractional church.”

Say what? Application-heavy? Attractional church?

It would take a while to unpack these terms in detail, but in short, when I say “application-heavy,” I have in mind sermons that focus primarily on what we are supposed to do. So, for example, sermons titled “4 Steps to Living without Anger” or “3 Ways to Thrive during Trials.”

And when I say “attractional church,” I have in mind churches who view the Sunday worship service primarily as a way to reach the un-churched (or de-churched) within their communities, especially by providing a highly polished worship service that is presumably attractive to outsiders.

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to reach outsiders. Moreover, there is nothing inherently wrong with wanting to teach the Bible in such a way that you give clarity regarding how to live. But think about something with me for a moment. Think about what happens to someone’s view of the Bible and Christianity and the gospel when he or she listens to this type of application-heavy preaching for a decade or so? If you spend years listening to preaching that is primarily designed to tell you what to do, how might this shape (warp?!) your understanding of the Bible and Christianity?

In his book The Prodigal Church, author Jared C. Wilson argues that application-heavy topical sermons become the “new legalism.” The old legalism was one of don’ts, while the new is one of dos. Both of these, however, “are just flip sides of the same legal coin” (84). Without a strong gospel focus, neither avoidance of sin nor pursuit of obedience will please God (Hebrews 11:6).

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The remedy, Wilson argues, is Christ-centered expository sermons, that is, sermons that see every passage of the Bible as pointing to our need for the Savior and how we have that Savior in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

It sounds strange to say it, but this type of sermon—a Christ-centered expository sermon—was the type of sermon Jesus preached in Luke 24 on the road to Emmaus. So Luke tells us, “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, [Jesus] interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (v. 27).

And what was the audience’s response to this Christ-centered expository sermon? “They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?’” (v. 32).

In my own experience as a pastor, after listening to a decade of these kinds of Christ-centered sermons, I can personally attest that people do change, and they generally change for the better. This has happened to me, and I’ve seen it happen to others. When we deepen our faith in the gospel week after week, we are only then able to live or apply the Bible appropriately. Remember, according to Hebrews 11 it’s “by faith . . . by faith . . . by faith . . . by faith . . . by faith . . .” that great deeds are done.  

Most of my ministry experience has not been in the attractional church where topical sermons reign. There was, however, a brief stint in college where this was the case as I helped in a local youth group that was part of an attractional church.

Nevertheless, because my experience with the attractional church is limited, I thought I would end this post by letting Jared Wilson himself share how he learned to preach application-heavy topical sermons in the attractional church. He has since left this way of preaching behind, but his recounting of his early days in ministry is a telling one and one that illustrates perfectly what I hope myself and others will avoid as we prepare sermons. Wilson writes,

“Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.

“Ever heard the Bible explained that way? It’s a handy mnemonic device that certainly has some truth to it. But does it get at the heart of what the Bible really is?

“While being trained in the ministry, I learned how to craft sermons from listening to a lot of messages from our youth ministry, and from asking some pastors to help me. The gist of the enterprise was this: I needed to come up with a spiritual topic or “felt need” to address, something practical that my audience would be interested in or otherwise just needed to know. After identifying the topic, I needed to draft three or four sermon points, and these needed to be points of application, things my audience could actually do. The emphasis was constantly on practical application, not merely on intellectual information. The sermon needed some handles.

“When my practical steps were listed, I needed to find biblical support for them. Anything that could not be supported with Scripture had to be rewritten or abandoned altogether. Every sermon had to be, in the parlance of the times, “Bible-based.” (It is not uncommon now even to see on the websites of some attractional churches that their messages are “Bible-based” or that they offer “truth based on the Bible.”) So then began the work of digging through the concordance to find Bible verses that might match and support each point.

“It was typically a good idea to find a verse that used the wording similar to the message point, and if you found something close, you could always tweak the message point to match the language of the verse or, alternatively, look at the verse in other Bible versions to see if the wording in one of those versions better matched the wording of the message point. . . . In the end, it was common to see a sermon that contained references from multiple Bible versions—the result of searching for just the right wording.

“It took me years to unlearn this approach to preaching. But in the end I began to discover that the approach was very much upside down. I had learned to preach by making the Bible’s words serve what I wanted to say rather than by making my words serve what the Bible says. To teach and preach in this way is implicitly to say that the Bible can’t be trusted to set the agenda, and that my ideas are better than the Bible at driving changing in my audience. . .

“I’ve also come to see the Bible in a different way. I’ve always believed it was God’s Word, of course, and that makes it living and active (Heb. 4:12) and perfectly capable of making us complete Christians (2 Tim. 3:16–17). But I had been treating it more as a reference book than as a story, and more as a manual of good advice than as an announcement of good news. (Jared C. Wilson, The Prodigal Church, 71–72)

[Picture by Jazmin Quaynor / Unsplash]

OTHER BLOG POSTS ABOUT PREACHING

Why Expository Sermons?

A few weeks ago, I was invited to take my children to a college basketball game. And here’s the really cool part: we were even invited to the locker room to hear the pre-game speech. Last summer, I officiated the wedding of one of the assistant coaches.

During the pre-game speech, I couldn’t believe all the basketball jargon used. If the other team shifted to a “full-court press,” Coach wanted his team to run “Milwaukee,” and if they got around it, then they should, of course, do what?

The team shouted, “Trapeze.”

I didn’t know what he meant by either “Milwaukee” or “Trapeze.” Nor did my kids. But he knew what he meant and so did his team.

I suspect, however, if we had visited a basketball practice during the fall as the players were learning, that the coach explained all this in more detail. This would have been necessary for the freshmen, as well as a helpful refresher for the upperclassmen. On our own, no one knows what obscure jargon means, much less how to apply it. All of us need a coach to bring us along as we learn something new.

Today I’m continuing a blog series I started a few weeks ago. It’s a bit of a primer on how to study a Bible passage, as well as how to teach that passage in a way that is clear and compelling. I’m calling the series “Backstage Pass” because I’ll be taking you “backstage of the pulpit” to see what goes into the writing of a sermon.

As I mentioned the other week, I realize not everyone will become a vocational teacher of the Bible. In fact, few will. Moreover, James told the early church “not many of you should be teachers” (3:1a). Nevertheless, all Christians will spend their life studying the Bible; it’s what we do. So, we might as well spend some time talking about how to do it well.

What Is an Expository Sermon?

At our church, we have two teaching pastors, Jason Abbott and me. As teaching pastors, we have the primary responsibility to lead the preaching and teaching ministry of our church. For us, this often looks like rotating each Sunday who is preaching. When we first explain this to people, many find it a foreign concept. Indeed, having two teaching pastors is a rare church model, but I could name several other churches that do this effectively. And over the last three years, our congregants have seemed to enjoy it.

Jason and I typically preach what are called “expository sermons.” Perhaps some of you have heard this term before. For others, it’s as foreign to you as “trapeze” was to me.

Let me explain what expository means. To borrow a definition from Mark Dever, “In expository sermons, the main point of the Scripture passage is the main point of the sermon.” Simple enough, right? What the passage says (in the main), the sermon should also say. Jason and I typically preach expository sermons through one book of the Bible at a time. When we finish one book, we typically move on to another, while rotating between Old and New Testament books.

The other common type of preaching is a “topical sermon.” In a topical sermon, the particular topic in view is what drives the Bible passage (or passages) covered. An example of a topical sermon might be a sermon on godly families or the deity of Christ or how to solve conflict as a Christian.

Why We Preach Expository Sermons?

I wouldn’t say there is anything inherently wrong with a topical sermon. Again, we preach them from time to time. But I do think a regular diet of expositional preaching is the better choice. Here are two reasons why.

First, most Christians read their Bibles this way, that is, we read one book at a time, and when we finish one book, we go to another. I don’t know any Christian who reads topically, at least as a rule. Thus expository preaching—when done well—models for Christians how to effectively read the Bible. I’m convinced this, by the way, meets a great need in the church. Good preaching doesn't just feed; it teaches how to fish.

Second, we don’t want to skip parts or themes of the Bible. This is a temptation inherent to topical preaching. It’s so easy to avoid topics when you are the one choosing what topics to preach. When this happens, it’s not necessarily sinister. In fact, it almost never is. But apart from some outside influence to keep us balanced, we would all tend to favor our strengths and avoid our weaknesses. It’s human nature. And so, without a commitment to expository preaching (an “outside influence,” if you will), I fear I would avoid things with which I need to deal. Having to preach the next passage simply because it’s the next passage—whether I want to or not—tends to make me, as a preacher, and the congregation as listeners, well rounded. As Paul wrote in 2 Timothy 3:16, God inspired all of the Bible, and it’s all profitable to us. (For a longer explanation of why I preach this way, see a post I wrote called, “Spring Loaded Camming Devices and The Expository Sermon.”)

How Long Does It Take You to Prepare?

It takes me around 16–20 hours to write most sermons. This includes the time to study, write, and practice delivering the message. A breakdown of this time looks roughly like this:

   2   hours to translate the passage
   2   hours to record notes and questions from my translation
   4   hours to study commentaries
   2   hours to listen to several sermons on the passage
   2   hours to fill out my sermon “pre-qualification list” (I’ll explain this in later posts)
   4   hours to write the sermon
   1   hour to edit the sermon
+ 1   hour to practice delivering the sermon
= 18 hours           

Here are a few other things worth mentioning about the process. Most of the time, because Jason and I work in a co-pastor model that shares the weekly preaching responsibilities, about 25% of my sermon preparation occurs two weeks before I preach, while the remaining 75% occurs the week in which I preach. We typically plan the preaching calendar (both speaker and passage) about 9 months in advance. Also, we do a sermon debrief every Monday morning at 9 am. At those meetings, we talk about what worked well the previous Sunday, what we need to improve upon, and we pray and plan for the upcoming sermon.

As you prepare your own lessons about the Bible, I don’t expect you’ll do everything we do. You don’t have to know what trapeze means to enjoy a game of pick-up basketball. Moreover, churches free up pastors to do gospel teaching full time, and this allows us to really commit to the craft. Nevertheless, hopefully this post gives you a sense of what many pastors do those other 39 hours in a week!

In the next “Backstage Pass” post, I’ll dispense with this background information and get on with sharing the tools I’ve been promising. 

To read the first post in the series, click here. [Picture by Roshan Yadama / Creative Commons]

RELATED POSTS

Do you really need to know how to teach the Bible?

Today I’m starting a new blog series. It’s something of a primer on how to study a Bible passage, as well as how to then teach that passage in a way that is clear and compelling.

I’m calling the series “Backstage Pass” because I’ll be taking you “backstage of the pulpit” to see what goes into writing a sermon. Pretty exciting, huh?

I know, it’s not near as cool as meeting Bono before a U2 concert or going to the locker room before a Philadelphia Eagles football game. Still, every few weeks or so during this winter I’ll do my best to share something helpful about how I go about studying a passage of the Bible and how I craft a message around that passage.

Let me also mention what the series won’t be. This will not be a series about how to study all the different kinds of passages in the Bible. This means I won’t cover the issues involved with interpreting a proverb versus a prophecy, and a pastoral epistle versus an apocalyptic vision. I’m leaving aside these genre- and Testament-specific questions. If you’d like to study these types of questions, check out How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth by Gordon D. Fee and Douglas Stuart.

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Instead, what I’m going to focus on in this series are the general tools for studying any one passage and how to teach that same passage.

But before I begin this series, though, let’s tackle the obvious question. Do you really need to know how to teach the Bible?

Well, yes and no. I realize that not everyone will become a vocational teacher of the Bible. In fact, few people do. Moreover, James told the early church “not many of you should be teachers” (3:1a).

However, all Christians will spend their life studying the Bible; it’s what we do. So we might as well spend some time talking about how to do it well.

Additionally, many Christians will occasionally find themselves in a situation where they have to understand one specific passage and say something helpful about it. In short, they have to teach the Bible. Perhaps this teaching will occur at a friend’s wedding, an adult Sunday school class, or a children’s devotional before a sporting event. Or maybe you’ll have to teach when a Jehovah’s Witness comes to your door to talk about John 1:1 or when your child asks you at the dinner table, “What does it mean that ‘All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God’ (Romans 3:23)?”

You can, of course, make something up on the spot, but what if you need to study more? What will you do? That’s what this series will be about.

And even if any of those teaching situations never happens—which I find unlikely in the course of thirty or forty years of following Jesus—still, we are to be those who teach and preach to ourselves. What we learn in the Bible, we need to apply to our own lives.

For all these reasons, I thought it might be helpful to share some of the strategies that I use so that you can use them too.

Though I won’t post about this every week so as to not burn you out on the topic, stay tuned for several more posts in the next few months.

[Picture by Todd Poirier / Unsplash]

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When Sin is Serious, Salvation is Joyous

Last Sunday, Christians around the world began celebrating the season of Advent. The word “advent” is from the Latin word adventus, which means “coming.” Thus, the Advent season is a time to reflect upon the coming of Jesus, especially his coming to earth in the first Christmas story. It is a preparatory season, a time to prepare our hearts and minds to behold the beauty of Jesus.

Sometimes, however, the celebration in our hearts is only hum-drum. Our hearts do not explode with fireworks at the joy of the incarnation. Instead, they flicker by the light, as it were, of a single votive candle somewhere off in the distance.

Likely there are many reasons for this, but perhaps one reason is we do not see sin as serious, and thus our salvation is not as joyous as it could be, even should be.

Home by Marilynne Robinson

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I’ve been reading through a series of novels by Marilynne Robinson. She is a gifted author, and for many years has played various roles at the renowned creative writing program at the University of Iowa (currently Professor Emeritus). The series includes Gilead (2004), which won a Pulitzer Prize, Home (2008), and Lila (2014). Each novel tells a version of the same story through the eyes of a different character. The stories center around two pastors and their families in the small town of Gilead, Iowa in the middle of the twentieth century.

The second book, Home, tells the story from the perspective of Glory, the daughter of the Presbyterian minister Robert Boughton.

I’m mentioning all of this because of a fascinating description by Glory about the spiritual complacency of her town and her father’s preaching about sin. She says,

Complacency was consistent with the customs and manners of Presbyterian Gilead and was therefore assumed to be justified in every case. . . . Even her father’s sermons treated salvation as a thing for which they could be grateful as a body. . . . He did mention sin, but it was rarefied in his understanding of it, a matter of acts and omissions so common­place that no one could be wholly innocent of them or especially alarmed by them, either — the uncharitable thought, the neglected courtesy. . . (p. 111)

Taken in the context of the novel, it’s not entirely clear whether we should view Glory’s description of her father’s preaching as wholly reliable. Glory, while respectful of her father and her father’s faith, does not seem to have embraced Christianity herself. Regardless, the essence of what Glory says is that in the estimation of the town (and perhaps her father), sin isn’t so bad, and therefore complacency over sin is justified.

But is this really good preaching?

The reviewer of Home in the New York Times, A. O. Scott, seems to appreciate this charitable and tolerant approach toward sin. Scott writes,

There is real kindness and generosity in the town, and its theological disposition is accordingly tolerant and charitable. Reverend Boughton embodies this forgiving, welcoming spirit.

In the above quote, I’m not sure whether Scott has in mind the old meaning of tolerance, which indeed is a virtue, or the new meaning of tolerance, which is not. (“Old tolerance” means, though you do not agree with another person, you still believe he or she has the right to believe it, and therefore you tolerate the person and the view. “New tolerance” means all points of view, regardless of their merit, are equally laudable.)

Still, going back to the description by Glory, notice the specific wording she uses to describe her father’s preaching about sin. She says, according to her father, sins were mere “acts and omissions so common­place that no one could be wholly innocent of them or especially alarmed by them.”

What kind of sins might have been discussed in these sermons? Apparently, nothing too disturbing. Using the terminology of our own day, apparently he was preaching about the sins of failing to call your mother on her birthday; the sins of not returning emails fast enough; the sins of thinking mean thoughts about a homeless man and the misspelling on his cardboard sign; and the sins of not helping the neighbor kid with her fundraiser. Sins like this.

It would seem that Reverend Boughton preached about transgressions so innocent and un-alarming as to hardly require a savior at all. We’ve all made mistakes, dropped the ball, and fallen short of the glory of the good Samaritan. These kinds of sins happen to the best of us, and we’re sorry about it, but we’re certainly not alarmed.

What does the Bible say about sin and salvation?

Don’t misunderstand me, though. My negative comments about Reverend Boughton’s preaching are not reflective of my view of the whole novel and the series, which I’m rather enjoying. Perhaps I’m overly sensitive because it’s my profession that’s being discussed.

And please do not think that I am advocating the hellfire preaching of yesteryear. My point is simply that Boughton’s light-on-sin-preaching, wherever it does exist, is a shame. It’s a shame not because it’s wimpy preaching (“real men preach about sin”). Rather, this type of preaching is unbecoming to ministers because it’s not faithful to the Bible, which is the only true measure of preaching, not my personal preferences. And in the Bible, sin is certainly an ugly, fearsome, insidious thing which wars against the Creator and the ultimate flourishing of humanity.

Consider what Jesus says in Mark 7:21–23,

For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.

And look at this list of sins from Romans 1:29–31,

They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless.

In short, sin is alarming.

And if sin against a holy God is serious, then we should despair. Except, of course, Christians shouldn’t despair. We don’t despair because there is a Savior who drank the cup of God’s wrath, and therefore, there’s nothing left for Christians to drink (Mark 14:36; Romans 3:25–26).

It’s this good news that causes the Apostle Paul to burst into song in 1 Corinthians 15:55. Because of the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, Paul writes,

O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?

On this point—in the Bible sin is serious and therefore salvation is joyous—I could go on and on, but just consider the way this two-pronged theme so frequently occurs in our beloved Christmas hymns. Take, for example, the familiar lines in O Holy Night. Yes, of course, “long lay the world in sin and error pining.” But this is not the whole story. The verse continues, “[when the Savior appears] the weary world rejoices.”

Conclusion

It’s the times when I have seen my sin as deeply offensive to God—not as minor mistakes or foibles or idiosyncrasies of my personality—that the good-news story of Jesus has actually been to me good news, not a cliché.

But this kind of self-reflection requires courage. As pastor and author Timothy Keller writes in his recent book Hidden Christmas,

Are you willing to say, “I am a moral failure. I don’t love God with all my heart, soul, strength, and mind. I don’t love my neighbor as myself. And, therefore, I am guilty, and I need forgiveness and pardon . . .”?

It takes enormous courage to admit these things, because it means throwing your old self-image out and getting a new one through Jesus Christ.

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And yet that is the foundation for all the other things that Jesus can bring into your life—all the comfort, all the hope, all the joyful humility, and everything else. (60–61)

Let me return to where I began. This Christmas, my hope and prayer is that our hearts will explode with praise over the salvation that comes through Jesus. If this is to happen, first we need to reckon seriously with the darkness within us. If we do this, then we’ll appreciate that from outside of us “a light has dawned” (Matthew 4:16).

[Picture by Alessandro Viaro / Unsplash]

Does Everyone Know Your Theological Hobby Horse?

Recently a friend at church (I’ll call him Jeremiah) asked my views, and the views of our church, regarding God’s sovereignty and salvation. Specifically, he wanted to know how strongly Reformed theology influences my preaching. Because I thought our exchange might help others, I asked and received permission to post an edited version of our correspondence.

[Disclaimer: this post uses a few technical terms and presumes some working knowledge of the issues (things like election, predestination, and free will). If you’d like a primer on Reformed theology, John Piper taught a helpful 9-part video series here and Tony Reinke wrote an excellent book called, The Joy Project.]

*   *   *

Pastor Benjamin,

I am interested in becoming more involved at church, and I was looking over the membership book. In that regard, I wonder if you could answer a few questions for me.

In reviewing your church’s membership book, Each Part Working Properly, there was a section devoted to the beliefs of the Evangelical Free Church of America (EFCA), which I am in agreement with. Actually, my only questions revolve around the portion of your book regarding Reformed theology.

It is my understanding that, within the framework of the EFCA, churches have the freedom to express their faith differently as long as they are in line with the main EFCA Statement of Faith.

I suppose an example is the one that you provided in the book about the church that baptized infants. As you say, this would certainly not be the habit of most EFCA churches, but it is not beyond the limits of the Statement of Faith, and thus it is acceptable.

So my questions are . . .

1. How would you handle preaching through certain sections of the Bible, say, one from the book of Romans? Would you explain different views of the passage or only the Reformed view? This is what was done in one E-Free church I attended.
   

2. Are Sunday School groups and other groups taught from a Reformed perspective?
   

3. I guess this last question is more like a summary of the others. Is the “official” view of our church regarding teaching, preaching, etc. a Reformed view?

I think finding a church home is a lot like finding someone to date and subsequently marry. You have to get to know the person/church as you move forward in the relationship.

Hope you can help me out in that process.

Thanks,
Jeremiah

*   *   *

Jeremiah,

Great questions. You’re doing exactly what I would hope people would do: investigating a local church in a thoughtful way. In fact, this is why we wrote that book. We want people to be able to consider the theology of a church before committing.

As for Reformed theology, lots could be said. I’ll try just to mention a few things. Feel free to follow up by email . . . or maybe, if you’re buying, we’ll make another trip to Starbucks.

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Normally, when people ask me about Reformed theology, I don’t like to answer until we first have gained a shared understanding of what Reformed theology is (and is not). Often, I find people are not talking about, shall we say, apples and apples. For our sake, I’ll just assume we are talking about the same thing.

First, your understanding of the Evangelical Free Church of America is correct; as a denomination, the issue of Reformed theology is not decided. Rather, the decision is left up to local churches. But even here (in local churches), sometimes the leadership might not be in agreement. If you ask me, I think this is a strength of the EFCA. It gives Christians a chance to have not mere uniformity but true unity.

When we published the book Each Part Working Properly, it was the first time in our church’s history that we formally declared the position of our pastor-elders on this issue. We did this so that potential members could understand where we stand today and where we likely will be in the foreseeable future. In this way, the book is like a weather forecast, though hopefully more reliable!

I’m not sure what percentage of EFCA churches consider themselves Reformed on areas of salvation. A recent study of the theology of the senior pastors in our denomination reported that, on issues of salvation, 38% favor a “Calvinist/Reformed” view, while 35% favor an “Arminian/Wesleyan” view (and 28% did not specify a leaning). It’s interesting that regarding a person losing their salvation, the results were far more one-sided: 94% affirm that someone regenerated by the Holy Spirit cannot lose his or her salvation. My view of things certainly falls in this majority.

It’s worth pointing out, though, that even if a senior pastor is Reformed (or Arminian), there will certainly be many people in his church (maybe even some on the church staff and elder board), who see things differently. That’s not the case on our church fulltime staff and elder board, but it wouldn’t be uncommon in other EFCA churches.

With respect to preaching, I think a good preacher can (and should!) be able to do a whole lot of preaching without people knowing exactly what he thinks about these issues. Don’t hear me wrong. I’m not saying preaching should be deceptive (cf. 2 Corinthians 4:2). I am saying the Bible doesn’t exist to exalt Reformed theology (or Arminian theology) but rather the gospel of God.

In light of that, I also think that over time, what a preacher believes about these issues must inevitably seep into his sermons. Most of the time this will be subtle, but other times it will necessarily be overt. This is a good thing. These issues matter. In my opinion, much of the pleasure a Christian gets in God flows from his or her view of how salvation takes place.

You asked about Romans. If we were preaching through Romans, which we hope to do someday, the issues of election, predestination, free will, and God’s sovereignty would certainly come up. They can come up naturally while preaching through most books of the Bible, though—maybe every book. For example, as we are finishing 1 Samuel this summer, I could see myself saying something like,

It doesn’t seem that King Saul “lost his salvation” but rather that he was never converted.

Now, you’ll be aware that a statement like this is informed by my view of God’s sovereignty in salvation, specifically the Reformed understanding of the perseverance of the saints. I’m not sure if many, or even most, in our church would notice this connection. I’m sure that some would, but whether or not they noticed, my aim would be to explain the passage in such a way that this conclusion is actually shown to be in the text of 1 Samuel—not merely an abstraction from my broader theology.

I’m probably not the best one to evaluate my preaching (I’m too biased!), but my sentiments here reflect what I’m aiming for. I know you’ve been attending for a while. How do you think we’re doing on this issue? I would respect and greatly value your opinion.

In Sunday school, however, there is more opportunity, even a responsibility, to share differing opinions about secondary issues (e.g. creation, end-times, spiritual gifts). In fact, in our adult Sunday school last fall, I taught on the atonement while we were working through Wayne Grudem’s book, Systematic Theology. When I taught, I was sure to present the differing views, both Limited and Unlimited Atonement. In the end, however, I did share which view I hold and why I hold it.

We’d be very open to someone with Arminian theology teaching in Sunday school or a small group, though we would expect a similar approach from him: fairness to both views.

With respect to membership, we never bring this issue up with people in the membership interviews . . . unless of course they want us to! At Community Free Church, we are delighted to have any and all Christians join who have a credible profession of faith, who are excited about this particular church, and who agree with the EFCA Statement of Faith.

Is this helpful? What other questions do you have?

Thanks for emailing,
Benjamin

[Picture by Denys Nevozhai / Unsplash]

9 Tips for Speaking at a Retreat

Please forgive the self-serving nature of this post. I know most of my readers have neither spoken at a church retreat nor will they ever. This last weekend, I only did so for the first time. My former church asked me to speak at their men’s retreat. It was a long but wonderful weekend.

Because this was my first, during the weeks leading up to the retreat I asked some friends who have spoken at retreats for advice. Here are nine of the best tips I received.

1. Speak to your audience.

I put stress on the word “your” because it may or may not be the same demographics that you’re used to, say, your local church. Therefore, as much as possible, determine who is the “typical attendee.” The host of the event should be able to help you figure out things like age, marital status, and education. It makes a difference if those who attend are largely young professionals or retired blue-collar workers. Also, ask about the level of Christian maturity. Are they mostly people who are, to use the words in 1 John, fathers in the faith or young children? There will always be outliers, but knowing the core audience will help you tailor the applications and illustrations.

2. Listen to the church’s sermons.

Listening to sermons gives a sense of the type of teaching they are regularly exposed to. As you listen, note things such as length (short or long), style (formal/declarative or informal/conversational), and focus (topical or expository). It seems to me that for a retreat speaker to be successful, he can be different from the typical diet of preaching, but he can’t be too different. Sudden changes in diet tend to cause discomfort. For my retreat, I listened to around 15 messages, which wasn’t too hard because I did it on my morning bike rides in the weeks leading up to the retreat.

3. Go deep in the Bible.

A retreat is a unique time. There is space for things you can’t do in other contexts. The attendees of a local church are often transient. This makes it hard to build from week to week; as soon as you make some progress, you have to start over again for those who missed last week’s message. But at a retreat, people aren’t going anywhere. They all heard your last message, which by the way, was only a few hours ago. Therefore, use each of your talks like basecamps up some Bible “mountain.” When you finally summit, both you and they will feel like something worthwhile was accomplished.

3. “Low tech” is better than “high tech.”

Technology is a great thing, but in the context of a retreat, I find excessive technology distracting. I have a philosophical reason for this and a practical one. First, the philosophical reason. People at the retreat are there to connect with others and with God. It’s a time away from the ordinary demands of life; it is, after all, called a retreat. And in a world that is constantly noisy, both audibly and visually, one bonus gift that you can give to your listeners is a technology Sabbath. On the practical side, I’ll add that retreats often take place at “offsite” locations, which means the exact setup is often unknown. Will they have the proper adapter for your laptop? And what if the Wi-Fi goes down and you can’t show that clip that was so important to your second message? It’s better to print handouts if you must have visuals.

4. Join the retreat; don’t just speak at it.

This means that you’ll need to have your messages completed beforehand. Sure, you might want to read over them before each session, but don’t plan to write them. And if it comes down to a choice between a more polished message and tossing the football with the guys, choose fellowship every time.

5. Model transparency.

The stated reason for why people joined the retreat will vary. Some came simply because a friend asked them, while others needed a vacation. And still others, though less than you might expect, came because they were excited about the topic of the retreat. But behind all the reasons, surely those who are leading the event desire that each person will do business with God. You, as the speaker, must set the tone for this. A shiny, sparkly speaker will make for superficial conversations. The audience will be able to tell if all your applications are just “for them” not “for us.” In short, teach the Word as one who is also under the Word.

6. Make it about one thing.

We all tend to compartmentalize. And if a speaker tries to cover 12 topics, listeners will shut down, like a computer running too many functions. Precision and depth on one theme will produce more change than greater coverage. In this way, it’s best to see each of the retreat messages as a larger version of a sermon; good sermons can have two points or they can have ten, but regardless, to be an effective sermon, it must be about one thing. Whatever point you’re making at the retreat, make it again and again. If you sing one song—albeit sometimes with different harmonies—they’ll remember the tune.

8. Include stories and movie clips.

People love stories. I think this is why so much of the Bible is narrative. Indeed, most of Jesus’s public ministry consisted of telling them. And even the parts of the Bible that are didactic, say the Prophets or the Epistles, these fit into a larger historical narrative, the story of redemptive history. At my retreat, I didn’t show any movie clips because of the technology involved (see #3 above), but also because it’s just what I do in my normal context (see #9 below). Still, I tried to tell a few yarns.

9. Above all, be yourself.

Finally, they didn’t hire John Piper or Matt Chandler to speak; they hired you. If you try to be like “so-and-so,” you’ll exhaust yourself and your hearers. Know what you do well and do that.

* The content for my retreat is here.

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