“We gotta get outta this place” — The Animals

“I thought happiness was Lubbock Texas in my rearview mirror.” — Mac Davis

“Let us press on to know the Lord!” — Hosea 6:3

Greetings, hikers! We’re at the trailhead of our long journey, so let’s open our guidebook and read the brief description of our first ascent. Take a moment to get acquainted with Psalm 120.

An ancient Chinese proverb says, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

We’ve all heard some form of that adage. Books begin with the first words banged out on a keyboard. Paintings begin with the first brush stroke. My version from my landscaping days reads, “The toughest part of digging a ditch is turning the first shovelful of dirt.” It’s true. The hardest part of any job is just getting started.

In one sense, that “first step” principle is accurate, but the truth is, whether we’re talking about ditches or journeys, there’s a critical step before that first step. We’ll just call it motivation. Every movement is preceded by a reason to move.

To paraphrase, Newton’s third law of physics, “Objects at rest remain at rest, until something makes them move.”

So here we are, greeted at the beginning of our long hike with the most common motivator known to man. Our songwriter tells us what inspired him to hit the road. It was distress and woe. In other words, trouble.

He writes, “In my distress I cried to the Lord. Woe is me!” (Psalm 120:1, 5)

One of the most effective instigators of progress and change is that old, unwelcome, uninvited companion of trouble, in any of its troublesome forms––hardship, sickness, relational breakdown, famine, financial crisis, oppression, pain and war. The perpetual movement of refugees from ancestral homelands to strange, yet open, promising nations is motivated by painful upheaval.

I don’t know why Mac Davis found Lubbock, Texas so unpleasant, but the author of Psalm 120 describes an environment anyone would rather see in their rearview mirror than out their front door.

Obviously his home, sweet home of Meshech and Kedar were towns full of liars, haters and warmongers. Of course, he didn’t actually live in those cities since they were about 1,000 miles apart. Meshech is modern Moscow. Kedar was deep in Arabia. Yet apparently his place of residence was just as dangerous and unpleasant as those sin cities, which were definitely not on the “Best Places to Raise Your Family” index.

The clear tone of Psalm 120 is “We gotta get out of this place. Too long here. Enough is enough.”

And who hasn’t said something like that?

“It’s time to fix this relationship.”

“It’s time to lose this unhealthy weight.”

“It’s time to quit playing religion and get to know God in a deeper, personal and more intimate way.”

But I wonder how many of us, prodded by pain to finally make the move, that will make the difference, have gripped the soft arms of our comfortable Lazy Boy, pulled ourselves forward a bit, then surrendering to the gravity of apathy, sank back into our cozy, familiar nest and promised ourselves, Tomorrow.

Let’s make today that tomorrow. It’s time to make a move. Of course life always has elements of conflict, but if you’re tired of living like a victim in a war zone, you can make some basic changes now that will put you on to the trail to higher ground. Lot had good reason to leave Sodom, and you and I have reason enough to vacate our Meshechs and Kedars.

Or we can choose to adapt to a life of compromise, convincing ourselves and our loved ones, “It’s not really so bad after all!” As the farmboy Wesley and Princess Buttercup walked into the deadly fire swamp in the film Princess Bride, Wesley said, “Well, I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.” If we decide to settle in and claim our half-acre of some battlefield, we’d better prepare to count and be counted among the casualties of war.

Or maybe it’s time to relocate. Hosea called his nation to “press on to know the Lord.” That’s good advice for us too. So allow me to make a suggestion. GET UP! And if you own a Lazy Boy, chop it up and carve yourself a hiking stick for this journey. Then follow this songwriter’s lead. If you are longing for peace, cry out to God who gives perfect peace to those who keep their eyes on Him.

Augustine said, “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God.” I often pray for friends who have yet to begin this journey with Jesus to be “blessed” with an appropriate level of discontent, or unrest, and for a soul-hunger to gnaw at their heart, until they seek rest in Jesus.

Do words like restless, troubled and woe define your life? Then know this, you can only find your resting place, your refuge, in God. You were designed by God to know Him intimately and He’s the only “place” your life will ever make sense.

So at the beginning of this hike, let’s call on the name of Jesus, the Peace Giver, crucified and risen to lift the crushing burden of guilt and remorse over all your past failure. Ask Him to forgive your sin. Allow Him to make you a “new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

God didn’t intend life to be full of violence and deceit. You and I were made for something better and higher. There really is “a better place for me and you.” That place is found in Christ.

We may move through badlands, but we dare not settle there. To repeat Hosea’s call, “C’mon, hikers, let’s press on to know the Lord.”

Isn’t it time to make the move?

I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase “toxic masculinity.” I think I understand—and even, to a degree, can sympathize with—the phrase. Terrible men have and do troll the earth. In their wake are hurt women, broken families, confused generations, and warring nations. They damage everything and everyone around them. Like nuclear waste, they’re toxic.

In many minds, however, the words have been reversed. For some, masculinity itself is what is toxic. And this negative view of manhood has created a general void in our society, one where boys have no good vision for how to be men, and many less than savory manhood-models have rushed to center stage, only worsening the problem. But the masculinity the Bible describes is like a tonic that brings healing to families, churches, and societies—tonic masculinity.

In Titus 2, Paul instructed a young pastor about how to exhort the people in his church. Paul’s instructions aim at the only four quadrants that exist in an adult congregation. Older men. Older women. Younger women. And younger men. Though we all go through a process of shifting from young to old, everyone falls into one of those categories. Today, we’ll consider the first category:

Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness. (Titus 2:2)

Paul starts with the older men for a reason—they can be an incredible blessing to the church.

The Bible is filled with examples of older men who blessed God’s people. Caleb and Joshua trusted God and led Israel into victorious battles in their old age. Noah built the ark to save his household and humanity all the way into his latter years. Abraham and the patriarchs did some of their finest work as old men. John wrote Revelation in his eighties or nineties. And Paul himself served Christ well all the way to his death as a relatively old man.

But who is this older man Paul tells Titus about? “Older” and “younger” are such relative terms. When I was twenty, I thought forty-five was ancient. Now I’m not so sure. And when it comes to the Bible, we’ve got a pretty wide range to work with. Jesus died at age thirty-three. Methuselah at 969. Who is the older man?

The term Paul used is the same one he used to describe himself to Philemon, and he was probably about sixty when he wrote that letter (Phil. 9). And John the Baptist’s dad used this term to describe himself, objecting that men his age didn’t have children. But the term was not unique to the Bible—it was used in other ancient Greek literature besides the Bible. For instance, Philo and Hippocrates used the word to describe the so-called sixth stage of life, identifying it as age fifty to fifty-six. Taken together, it seems reasonable to say this is a stage we enter around our mid-fifties or early sixties.

But the older men are not only mentioned first because they’re meant to be a blessing to everyone else—pillars on which the rest of the church leans—but because an others-centered and mature life is a life of blessing. In other words, if we live the way Paul says, we’ll bless, but we’ll also be blessed. To lose one’s life is to find it.

So what does Paul say about the older man whose masculinity is a tonic for his generation?

Sober-Minded

First, tonic masculinity is sober-minded (2). Other translations call this temperance or sobriety.

We take this first to mean that older men in the church should be physically sober men. There’s a temptation that comes in the last third of life. Much of the heavy lifting’s been done—the career is built, the home is secured, the income is solid, and the kids are raised. On top of all this is the temptation to be discouraged about life, no longer optimistic about the future.

The Christ-following man knows he still has work to do—it isn’t time to kick back and drink up. He might enjoy a glass of wine, but he won’t allow glasses of wine to fog his mind. He’s going to stay frosty, mentally sharp for the very real battle he’s still engaged in.

And this physical sobriety is emblematic of the way of his whole life. Everything about the older man of God is sober. He’s learned what is and isn’t godly. He’s learned what is and isn’t healthy. He’s learned the destructive nature of the passing pleasures of sin (Heb. 11:25). He’s weighed the cost of self-indulgence and determined that the price is too high. The payout isn’t worth it.

So the godly older man avoids excess and extravagance. He won’t let himself become deluded or intoxicated by anything in life. He’s still serious about God, God’s kingdom, and the potency of the Gospel. He knows he’s got to, like Caleb and Joshua and Moses, fight for holiness until the day of his death. His church attendance doesn’t slip into a sporadic affiliation with a local congregation but instead develops into deeper involvement with God’s people. He might be done raising his biological sons and daughters, but now he uses his time to raise God’s sons and daughters.

This sobermindedness doesn’t mean this man is no fun to be around—quite the opposite. But he doesn’t allow himself to become distracted with things that don’t matter. He stays focused on God. He meditates on the Word. He loves serving other people.

David’s life serves as a cautionary tale about the price of losing a sober mind. In his middle years, after becoming Israel’s king, he began to drift from the mission God gave him. He wasn’t sober-minded. And he fell. The Bible says:

In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel…But David remained at Jerusalem. (2 Samuel 11:1, ESV)

Because he didn’t go out to war, because he stopped sober-mindedly pressing into God’s battlefield, he found himself with free time in the Jerusalem palace. It was then that he observed a beautiful young (and married) woman bathing on another rooftop. He called for and slept with her, and she became pregnant. This led David to cover up his sin by placing her husband on the front lines alone—left to die—the ultimate betrayal of his brother in arms. But this sin could’ve been averted had David stayed engaged.

And, especially in our older years, we must press in because we likely have more time on our hands than ever before. We must engage in the war by mentoring, serving, working, and growing.

When running a long endurance race, the second half requires special attention. In his book on how to train for a marathon, legendary coach Hal Higdon said, “Focus hardest when it counts most. If you find it difficult to concentrate during the full twenty-six miles of a marathon, save your focus for the miles when you need it the most—the second half.”¹

His exhortation to runners is a better exhortation to us as humans. Focus at all times, but especially knuckle down in that second half of your race. Don’t slip. Be sober-minded.

It was sober-mindedness that enabled Nehemiah to rebuild Jerusalem and revive God’s people. It was sober-mindedness that enabled Luke to research and write Luke and Acts. It was sober-mindedness that enabled Aquila to have a great marriage, produce a business that blessed the church, and disciple Apollos into maturity. Sober-minded men get it done.

Jesus, of course, was sober-minded. This doesn’t mean he was hard to be around. His accusers said he was a winebibber—they thought he was a party animal. He wasn’t, but he had so much joy they thought he was. But he was also beautifully sober-minded. He refused a mind-numbing concoction on the cross, choosing instead to suffer the full brunt of the crucifixion’s pain. He refused to bow down to Satan as a quick way to gain the kingdoms of this world but chose instead to do the hard work of redemption. He never lost focus. He never got distracted. He pressed in. So should we.

Dignified (2:2)

Second, tonic masculinity is dignified (2). Other translations render this word as worthy of respect, venerable, sensible, and serious.

The godly older man is substantive. He’s the right kind of serious. Not gloomy, dour, and self-consumed, but real, unnerved, and focused. He’s worthy of respect from others. And he treats others well. He’s not too comfortable, casual, or loose with the opposite sex. He doesn’t talk down to the young. And he stays out of the gutter because he has honor.

His life is not frivolous, trivial, or superficial. He’s not vulgar. He takes immorality seriously. He craves holiness. He’s dignified, impressive, and worthy of respect.

Older men like this have learned so much about the Lord, themselves, and life. They know God is faithful, so they don’t panic and fret like they did when they were younger. They know God is good, so they trust that he’ll somehow repurpose every trial for good. They know God is love, so they’re secure in their relationship with him as sons of God. They know God is holy, so they avoid anything that would pain his heart while pursuing ever-expanding levels of personal holiness.

This man finds the phrase in Psalm 1 that the blessed man will bear fruit in his season and craves that season (Ps. 1:3). He abides in Christ every single day, not as a way to earn God’s favor or as a paranoid lucky charm before God, but because he’s learned that those who abide in Christ bear much fruit (John 15). So he abides in Christ.

His heroes aren’t actors who live in luxury or leaders who have great power. He isn’t distracted by shiny objects or beautiful women or thrones of power. His heroes aren’t The Godfather, Tony Stark, or John Wick.

Instead, he resonates with men like the Apostle John, a man whom it’s said had to be carried up to the pulpit in his old age just to tell the people to love each other. He admires men like John Wesley, who, after his 86th birthday, expressed remorse that he was no longer able to read and write about Scripture for fifteen hours a day and was now sleeping in all the way to 5:30 in the morning!

His heroes keep their marriage vows, serve their wives through illness, and lay down their lives for others. He’s drawn to men like Joseph, whose branches ran over the wall so that others could partake of his fruit (Gen. 49:22).

The dignified older man doesn’t have a feeling of immortality or invincibility. He’s seen too much. He’s buried people he loves. He’s seen terrible things—wayward children, church splits, unwanted illnesses, surprising divorces, failed businesses. He’s seen betrayal, death, and decay. He’s seen presidents and their promises come and go. Life has sobered him, so he’s decided to spend his well. He no longer believes human effort and plans can produce the utopia we long for, but he’s not hopeless. His eyes are on God and his kingdom. He believes the Gospel. He longs for Christ’s return. And he’s dignified about it.

The dignified man looks into the Word and loves the dignified way Jesus led his life. He was ever focused on the cross—his face set like a rock to get to Jerusalem so he could die there (Isaiah 50:7). And when he spoke, people said no one spoke like him—he had an incomparable confidence, clarity, and authority. His life and words had weight. Father-focused and people-oriented, he lived a life that counted. Dignified.

Self-Controlled

Third, tonic masculinity is self-controlled (2). Other translations render this word as sensible, using good judgment, prudent, and wise. They have gained self-mastery—not perfectly, but generally.

This self-control is the key term in Paul’s exhortations to everyone on the grid. When he described pastors, he said they should be self-controlled (Tit. 1:8). When he described godly older women, godly younger women, and godly young men, he wanted all of them to learn to be self-controlled.

But what is self-control? Here’s one definition: “Obedience has to do with actions, but self-control has to do with emotions and how we deal with them. Do our emotions control us, or do we control our emotions?”² It’s a decent definition—and it came from a book about parenting! Toddlers need it, but so do older men. We must all learn self-mastery, self-rule, and self-discipline.

The word Paul used derives from a combination of the word for save and the word for mind. The mind has been saved, so life is filtered through a new grid. The godly man knows who he is in Christ. He’s saved, new, redeemed, born again, a new creature, filled with the Spirit, under the New Covenant, and able to live in the resurrection power of Christ. He’s been saved from the old, unregenerate, deathly life far from God under the law, lived in his own strength. He’s saved; as he abides in Jesus, he can be self-controlled.

And what a weapon at this man’s disposal! Self-control is powerful. Dallas Willard described it this way:

“Self-control is the steady capacity to direct yourself to accomplish what you have chosen or decided to do and be, even though you “don’t feel like it.” Self-control means that you, with steady hand, do what you don’t want to do when that is needed and do not do what you want to do when that is needed.” — Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart

This man has ample self-control. He’s a calm and measured man, even in the face of disappointment or discouragement. He treats men and women, young and old with total respect. He spends his money with wisdom. He uses his experience and position to raise up, develop, and bless others. He always makes himself the last.

The self-controlled man knows that he needs Christ’s power to help him, so he spends time in the word and prayer with Jesus each day. The self-controlled man knows that frayed nerves and fatigue war against his resolve, so he fights to eat and sleep well. The self-controlled man knows that even God rested from his work, so he uses times of Sabbath as a way to protect him from sin-inducing busyness. The self-controlled man knows there’ll be times when he’ll feel weak against temptation, so he develops and leverages godly friendships to help him stand. The self-controlled man knows that he’ll lose some battles with the flesh, so he practices honesty with all the right people as a way to cast disinfecting light on the bacteria of sin.

To illustrate self-control, let’s consider two men. First, think about Joseph. As a teenager, he was betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery, ending up in Egypt. A man named Potiphar purchased this young man, and Joseph served well. Potiphar’s house prospered so much that he ceased involving himself in any of the details of household management. He entrusted everything to Joseph. Except for his wife, that is, but she didn’t like that arrangement and threw herself at Joseph. He feared God and respected his master, so he always resisted her until one day, she caught him alone, begging him to lie with her. But Joseph wriggled free from his garment and ran from the house. He then suffered false accusations from this woman, but at least his integrity was intact. He was self-controlled. He fled sexual immorality.

Now, consider Solomon. He began well, but as he prospered as Israel’s king and aged as a man, he wandered from the Lord. Foreign women stole his heart. Soon, he amassed a harem beyond the fantasies of any ancient king. And, as his heart drifted, so did his life. He was controlled. Self-control was a distant memory. He sank into despair and powerlessness, coming under God’s disciplinary hand. And, as he sank into the slough of despond, he took Israel with him. The man who should’ve been a blessing to all of God’s people had become their Achille’s heel, all because, as he grew older, he grew less self-controlled. His passions enslaved him.

The self-controlled man looks at Jesus and sees how he always did that which pleased the Father. When he was reviled, he ruled his spirit and did not revile in return. When beaten, he mastered himself and submitted to the cross.

Sound

Finally and fourthly, tonic masculinity is sound in the areas of faith, love, and steadfastness (2). To be sound is to be healthy, true, strong, whole, or well-grounded. And the three categories Paul thought older men should be sound in are repeated throughout the entire New Testament—faith, love, and hope. The only change in this list is that—for an older man—hope has turned into the action of steadfastness or endurance. Because he has become totally sound in hope, he endures.

The idea here is that the older godly man has fully entered into and embraced the pillar attributes of Christianity. He’s strong in the faith—meaning he understands and is mature in the truth of the Bible. Their doctrinal convictions are not strange but sound. He’s also strong in love, meaning he’s adopted a lifestyle that’s completely others-centered. He’s not spending his time completely on himself, but he wants to go to his grave loving other people. And he’s strong in steadfastness, meaning he’s not thrown in the towel but is pressing, with hope, into what God’s doing here on earth. When he prays, “your kingdom come, your will be done,” he believes and toils for that kingdom. He doesn’t sit alone in his living room, watching cable news, bemoaning everyone and everything, waiting for the day Christ comes. Instead, he works hard to bring Christ to people right where they are, believing wholeheartedly in the power of the Gospel for salvation to all who believe (Rom 1:16).

* * *

I’d like to conclude by sharing my heart about the type of man Paul describes, men who are sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness (Titus 2:2). Especially if you are a man in your late fifties and beyond, and you’re clear-minded about the Lord, serious about the right things, have gained self-mastery, are solid about the faith, love people well, and are working steadfastly to make disciples, we all thank you. You’re a pillar for us to lean on. You’re a vision for us to acquire. And you’re a blessing to our church and community. You’re the version of masculinity our world needs right now.

References

To the choirmaster: according to The Gittith. A Psalm of David. 1 O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. 2 Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger. 3 When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, 4 what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? 5 Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. 6 You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet, 7 all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, 8 the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas. 9 O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! (Psalm 8, ESV)

The person this psalm describes is flourishing. It depicts a whole person—they’re humble yet strong; they feel infinitesimal compared to the cosmos yet significant to God; and with self-mastery, they serve and tend to the creation God gave them dominion over.

If you saw this person today, you’d say they were “on fire” or “on the top of their game” or were “crushing” or “slaying it.” This is the mother handling all of life’s complexities with grace and dignity. This is the student navigating a massive course load and completing their objectives. This is the small-business owner who’s serving their employees and customers well, creating a healthy culture in their workplace. This is the retiree whose schedule and life impact the next generation more than ever.

The person described here has dominion over their environment, which is the very thing God intended when he made us (Genesis 1:26-27). He made man and woman to fill the earth and subdue it, exercising dominion over it. So this person is living a whole human experience.

And the bookends of the psalm tell us the secret of how this wholeness came to be. In the first and also the final line of the song, David said, “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (1, 9).

Don’t let the way he addresses God pass you by: “O Lord, our Lord” (1, 9). The first Lord is God’s personal name, Yahweh or Jehovah. Later translators and worshippers didn’t want to say his name out loud or write it completely, but David had no such reservations. He knew God personally. The second “Lord” comes from the word Adonai, and it stresses God’s position as master and sovereign. David is saying that he both knew God personally but respected God’s position over his life.

And notice how he rejoiced over the majesty of God’s name in all the earth (1, 9). To say God’s name is majesticdoesn’t mean he thought God’s name sounded interesting—“I just love the name ‘Yahweh.’ So creative! In the Bible, your name was your reputation, your character, you. So David was saying that he loved God’s nature. He loved thinking about and celebrating who God is.

So what we have here is a man who is enraptured with God. By beginning and ending the psalm with the same statement, we learn that the life detailed within it—the life of strength, meaning, and dominion—is a result of the worshipper’s strong connection to God.

Dallas Willard once wrote:

“The ideal of the spiritual life in the Christian understanding is one where all of the essential parts of the human self are effectively organized around God, as they are restored and sustained by him. (It is) the human self fully integrated under God.”

— Renovation of the Heart: Putting On the Character of Christ by Dallas Willard ¹

That’s what we’re discovering here in Psalm 8—a person totally organized around God, integrated under God.

But what are the results of this integration? What happens when we love God this way and organize ourselves around him?

Result 1: Strength

The first result is strength. David said, “Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger” (2). Even babies and infants receive God’s strength to face the forces of opposition against God (2). Even crawlers can stand against everything and everyone out of alignment with God. Even the weakest is given strength.

This is the way of God. When you lower yourself under him, when you know him personally, set him as the Lord of your life, and celebrate his nature, you receive strength.

And it’s the way of Jesus to infuse the weak with strength. When he came to the earth, he reached out to the sick, the outcast, the tormented and despairing, and those with the greatest levels of societal shame.

In one instance of such care, after healing the blind and disabled in the temple precincts, little children began crying out, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” The religious leaders were upset that Jesus would allow them to praise him in that way, and Jesus used this psalm to explain what was happening: “Yes; have you never read, ‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise’?”” (Matthew 21:16, ESV).

It was a fascinating quotation because it put the religious leaders in the position of the foes and enemies this song talks about. They didn’t receive God’s strength because they wouldn’t worship the One in their midst. But the children did. They were enamored, engrossed with Jesus. And this means that, even in their weakness, they were strong.

This is the way of Christ—the weaker you are and admit to being, the more strength you receive.

My father once told me a story about his high school wrestling career. During one match, he had to go up against the state champion in his weight class. Knowing that he had no chance, my dad’s coach told him to do everything he could to not get pinned. He would still lose the match, though not by as much, and therefore the overall team score wouldn’t be as impacted by his loss. In the first period, my dad held his own by doing nothing, sort of lying limp. But in the second period, feeling he was doing pretty well, he tried a move. The next thing he knew, he was pinned. His opponent was waiting for him to think he was strong.

God doesn’t bless human arrogance—thinking we are strong—but a childlike recognition and enunciation of his name. So if you want to flourish, if you want to be a whole person, if you want to enjoy God’s original design for humanity, become as much like a baby or a child as you can.

I don’t mean infantile or childish—immature. I do mean that we ought to develop a childlike—even infant-like—dependence on our Lord. Babies are totally dependent creatures. They can’t meet even their most basic needs. And when we see ourselves in this way, dependent on God for the needs of our body and soul, we’re made strong. But if we don’t see ourselves this way, we’re in danger of removing ourselves from the place God’s power flows.

Result 2: Meaning

The second result of life organized around God is that we find meaning in life. David said, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” (3-4).

It’s not hard to imagine young David tending his father’s sheep in the wilderness reaches of Bethlehem, staring up at the unpolluted night sky. He spent so much of his time counting sheep during the day; maybe he fell asleep by counting stars. And the grandeur of all he saw gave him a sense of insignificance at first—“I am so small in comparison!”—but he was then filled with awe that God cared for him. Looking up to the stars, David remembered that God was mindful of him and cared for him (4).

We might feel that David had an advantage over us because all that time in the wild surely filled him with these insights. But it wasn’t that David’s time in nature inevitably made him a worshipper—billions of people have looked at the stars without submitting to God. But because David already knew God, when he felt his insignificance in the darkness, he was reminded of God’s unbelievable care for him.

And we do have an advantage over David. We might live in cities that sometimes obscure the glories of the natural world, but we’re a more scientifically advanced people than during David’s day. We know the staggering distance and size of the sun, moon, and stars—and so much more. And with each successive discovery, we seem to learn of our relative smallness in this ever-expanding universe (Isaiah 42:5, 44:24, 45:12; Jeremiah 10:12, 51:5).

But, for the person properly aligned with God, organized around God, this smallness reminds them of his care. Some call this the “paradox of man,” that though we are like a speck of dust within this vast universe, God has bestowed dignity and importance upon us. He cares for us.

In Wendell Berry’s book Jayber Crow, the main character described his love interest’s look by saying, “the brief, laughing look that she had given me made me feel extraordinarily seen, as if after that I might be visible in the dark.” ²

This is what the psalm describes, that even though we’re but a dot in the expanse of God’s creation, we’re extraordinarily seen by God, visible in the dark to his loving eyes. Though we’re conscious of our relative insignificance, he’s the one who diffuses us with significance and meaning.

Result 3: Dominion

The final result of this life organized around God is dominion. David said, “Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet,” going on to list various animals of land and sea (5-8).

All this recalls the creation account of Genesis. On the sixth day, God said he made men and women in his image to:

“’…have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.’”

(Genesis 1:26–27, ESV)

So God made us to exert dominion over our surroundings, not as tyrants, but as servants. We were made to tend and cultivate the earth for our benefit, not as abusers but as stewards. In a sense, he put us in charge. We were meant to lead and cultivate the earth from raw material to beautify society.

We’re God’s special creation. It’s a position, David said, of glory and honor (5). But note how the psalm states it: we are a little lower than the heavenly beings while also being above the animal kingdom—they are under our feet (5-6).

And life in proper alignment with God gets this right. It doesn’t seek to advance itself above God, nor does it lower itself to a life of animalistic impulse. Instead, it’s conscious of its place beneath heaven but above the rest of creation.

In Luke 15, Jesus told the story of two sons. One took his inheritance early and lived wildly until he was so broken by life that he found himself lower than the pigs he was hired to feed. He returned home with the hope that his father would let him be a household servant. When the father ran to receive him and threw him a great feast, the older brother was disgusted and challenged his father.

Both were out of alignment with their true position. The first lowered himself to be like the animals. The second exalted himself above the father. The first lived by his animalistic desires. The second thought himself a god.

But when we’re in proper worship and love for God, we regain our proper position. We aren’t like the animals. Nor are we more intelligent than God. We’re in the middle—below him and above creation.

Christ

The man or woman who is properly aligned to God, who has organized themself around God, has everything they need to become a whole person. They are living in their proper place, both body and spirit alive and functioning as God has designed.

It’s here some introspection is required. Who is the man or woman in total self-control? Who operates with continued humble strength, purposeful significance, and gentle dominion?

The book of Hebrews even pointed this conundrum out. Speaking of us, it says:

“’You made him (humanity) for a little while lower than the angels; you have crowned him with glory and honor, putting everything in subjection under his feet.’ Now in putting everything in subjection to him, he left nothing outside his control. At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him.”

(Hebrews 2:7-8, ESV)

What this passage tells us is that even though God gave us dominion over his creation, right now it sure doesn’t look like it. Though we were made for humble strength, purposeful significance, and gentle dominion, we don’t have the dominion God made us to have.

The creation wars against us. Other people make decisions, commit sins, and neglect responsibilities that hurt us. Our lives, schedules, and circumstances often overrun us, and we experience anything but dominion. Even our own bodies rebel against us.

Though our psalm today might echo God’s intention for humanity in Genesis 1, we know the catastrophe of Genesis 3. Through sin, we lost our dominion. None of us lives completely in the realm this psalm portrays.

Except for Jesus. He referred to himself often with the same title this psalm gives us—the Son of Man (4). This is where the Hebrews passage helps us. It continues:

“But we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.”

(Hebrews 2:7–9, ESV)

This means Christ came and fulfilled humanity’s destiny. He regained dominion. And anyone who trusts in him enters into his new version of humanity—and is, therefore, able to progressively regain the dominion that we lost. It’s through Jesus we become whole, more human than ever before. In him, our out-of-control and untamable species can regain the self-control and dominion we were meant to have.

In the classic book The Little Prince, a boy from another planet comes to visit the earth. While here, he meets various animals and people, and one of them is a fox. Having never seen a fox, the Little Prince asked him about his life.

“‘My life is monotonous. I hunt chickens and men hunt me. All chickens are alike and all men are alike. So I get a little bored. But if you tame me, my life will be full of sunshine. I shall recognize the sound of a step different from all others. The other steps send me hurrying underground. Yours will call me out of my burrow like the sound of music. And look yonder! Do you see the cornfields? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. Those cornfields don’t remind me of anything. And I find that rather sad! But you have hair the color of gold. So it will be marvelous when you have tamed me! Wheat, which is also golden, will remind me of you. And I shall love the sound of the wind in the wheat…’ The fox became silent and gazed for a long time at the little prince. ‘I beg of you… tame me!’” — The Little Prince ⁴

The fox is like us in our natural state—untamed and without purpose or passion or meaning. We need Christ to tame us, to diffuse our lives with significance and meaning. We need him to enter our lives and transform us from within.

Only Jesus can lead us into the wholeness we crave. Only he can reproduce the gentle dominion we were made to experience. Only he can make us thrive. Only he can tame us.

References

Descending into Managua, I peered through the plane’s window at Lake Managua, looking quite serene from above. Nicaragua is a land of stark contrasts. The country has more than enough natural resources to be a major tourist destination, yet it remains among the poorest nations in the world. I was there with a group of professional surfers to get content for magazine articles and advertising material. It was my first time on a professional surf trip, and I’d hoped it would be the beginning of the surf dream I’d been chasing for several years. I thought I’d finally made it to the “big leagues.”

It wasn’t my first time in a developing country, but this trip proved to be a crucial turning point in my life. Seemingly on the verge of achieving this “dream” I’d been chasing, I suddenly realized it wasn’t what I thought it would be. Instead of contemplating which board I should ride, I found myself contemplating what I wanted to do with my life. I had this underlying feeling that my focus was on the wrong thing. I began to realize that this ambition of mine was solely a selfish one; it was all about self-promotion and self-gratification. I tried to rationalize the thought, but still it lingered.

Hell’s Gate

La Chureca is a township located in Managua’s landfill. “The Dump” is inhabited by hundreds of Nicaraguans who sift through trash to find enough resources to survive. NGOs and missions organizations got involved to help the community and to raise awareness about their plight. My friend Brad Corrigan was one of them. Brad was in Nicaragua the same time we were, and in the middle of our trip, I received a message from him. He invited us along for a day to show us what this community faced.

The entrance to La Chureca is called Hell’s Gate, and I can’t think of a more fitting name. As we entered, I couldn’t help but notice the brown, smoke-filled air. We learned the trash is set aflame to keep it from piling up. But when combined with the intense Central American heat, it creates a perpetual haze. Tim Maurer, writing for Forbes, lists La Chureca among the most Horrendous Wonders of the World.^[1] I watched in disbelief as children walked barefoot around the outskirts of the dump, looking for anything that might be useable. In the heart of the dump, people sifted through trash as it was unloaded by trucks. Off to the side of the trash, the people of La Chureca built their community. Homes constructed mostly of discarded trash found in the dump created a neighborhood of sorts. I won’t go into detail the horrors and dangers that people face here daily, but it’s heart-wrenching.

Brad walked us through the community and introduced us to some of the families that live there. I ducked a little as I passed through the doorway of one family’s home. The floor was simply dirt, the house itself made of dilapidated materials found in the dump. Worn-out tarps and plastic bags provided waterproofing during rains. As we entered the main living area, a lady sat uncomfortably in a chair, a bit bewildered by her visitors. Brad talked with them for a bit, explaining what we were doing. But I soon realized their conversation turned quickly from our presence in the home to the lady and the reason for her visible discomfort. A motion toward her foot and it became apparent to all what the source was.

Her foot was swollen, cracked, dry, possibly infected. She had sprained her ankle and the injury severely limited her mobility. Without access to medical care in La Chureca, even what might seem an insignificant issue can quickly turn serious. I stood speechless, feeling like anything I could offer was completely insufficient. None of us knew what to do. Then Brea Burkard, the wife of our trip’s photographer Chris, in one of the purest and most powerful acts of compassion I’ve ever witnessed, knelt next to the lady and began massaging her swollen foot. It was one of the most Christ-like acts I’ve seen, and it humbled me to my core.

Not much was said in the car ride as we left La Chureca. The visit exposed me to a reality I’d heard about but only viewed from a distance, a reality that for most of my life didn’t seem real. The contrast of what I was pursuing in Nicaragua and what those who served the people in La Chureca were pursuing wasn’t lost on me. Brad’s invitation changed my life’s direction.

Seeing Past Ourselves

Please don’t misunderstand the point I’m making. I don’t believe we all need to quit our normal jobs to pursue non-profit work. I don’t believe it’s wrong to be successful in business or whatever profession one may be in. And it’s not that I believe the dream I’d been chasing was a bad one, or that professional surfing, surf journalism, or the surf industry are bad careers. I think they can be fine careers, and I’m happy for those who have been able to be successful in them. But what that trip did do for me was confirm a truth I’d been taught since I was young—that life gets better through selflessness, not selfishness. No matter how successful one may be at their chosen pursuit or passion, if you live solely for selfish ambition, you will in the end find only emptiness and vanity, not fulfillment and purpose.

That trip to Nicaragua taught me an important lesson. It taught me the difference between healthy, God-given ambition and selfish ambition. Healthy ambition is the desire to be good stewards with the talents we’ve been given. It’s living with the understanding that we all have an eternal purpose to fulfill; life is more than just self. In contrast, selfish ambition enthrones self, making the goal of life to gratify and magnify self above all else.

The Truth About Giving

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

This is perhaps the most well-known verse in the Bible, for good reason. In it we find God’s free offer of salvation and His unfathomable love for us. And we are given one of life’s greatest truths—that God gives. He is a gracious and generous God. He loves, so He gives. It’s at the heart of who He is and how He made life to operate. The world leads us to believe we will find fulfillment in this life by getting, but God has told us fulfillment in this life comes by giving. It can’t be experienced through a self-centered outlook in life.

Our lives get better, and our story gets bigger as we give. God gave and as a result, salvation is available to all creation. Since we are made in God’s image, somewhere within each of us the truth testifies that it’s more blessed to give than to receive. Interestingly, secular science is discovering this truth as well. The Science of Generosity, a report by The Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley suggests that generosity is directly linked to a person’s overall happiness. It states, “While popular culture may imply that happiness comes from focusing on yourself, research suggests the opposite: Being generous can make you happier.”^[2]

One of the first lessons Jesus taught is that we must think differently from the way popular culture has taught us to think. It might seem counter-intuitive, but the truth is that life gets better and more purpose-filled through generosity, not self-promotion or accomplishment. God has declared this to us throughout Scripture:

“A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed” (Proverbs 11:25).

“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Luke 6:38).

“Good will come to those who are generous and lend freely, who conduct their affairs with justice” (Psalm 112:5).

A culture that prizes self above others will produce people who are largely unhappy and unfulfilled, ever in search of purpose and direction in life. They’ll seek their fulfillment through selfish ambition and self-promotion, through accumulation of wealth and power. They’ll be lovers of self and as a result, their morality and justice will be determined by what suits them best, not what’s righteous. I’m not trying to paint a hopeless picture but rather reveal what’s at stake. If we aren’t willing to see past our own immediate gratification, we’ll never find the purpose and identity we seek.

A Life Filled with Purpose and Fulfillment

Some would say my life didn’t change much after that trip to Nicaragua. I didn’t stop surfing, and I haven’t been back to Nicaragua since. But it did teach me one simple yet profound truth that remains with me to this day. It taught me that no matter what we achieve in this life, if it’s self we’re seeking to magnify and not Jesus, it’ll ultimately leave us empty and unfulfilled.

God gives because it’s part of who He is; giving is an attribute of love. As His children, bearers of His image, it’s meant to be one of our attributes as well. And it starts by being able to see past ourselves. When we do, we find we have taken the first step toward a life filled with purpose and fulfillment, a life that touches the lives around us, a life that impacts eternity.

References

^[1] Tim Maurer, “Hope in Hell On Earth: Micro-Finance in Nicaragua,” Forbes.com, July 26, 2012.
^[2] Summer Allen, The Science of Generosity, page 23, prepared for the John Templeton Foundation by The Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley, May 2018.

Chuck Smith famously proclaimed that God does not call the trained; he trains the called. Like many Calvary Pastors, I owe much of my ministry to this insight: if a pastoral calling were only to be found on the other side of a seminary degree, I would have never discovered God’s plan for my life.

However, Pastor Chuck’s statement is sometimes interpreted as anti-seminary, anti-education, and even anti-intellectual. For those who take it this way, the Holy Spirit is sufficient, and pursuing education is a lack of faith or reliance on the minds of men. Frankly, I have a hard time understanding anyone who feels God’s call on their life and does not seek to learn as much as possible by any means necessary.

But my concern here is not to make a biblical case for continuing education but to speak to a corresponding need in our movement. We need scholars. Men and women whose call is to devote themselves to the studious development of theology. Let me be clear: throughout the scriptures, God calls shepherds to be kings and prophets, cowards to be commanders of armies and fishermen as apostles. But he also calls some to be scholars to the benefit of the church and the glory of God.

Throughout its history (and I would argue, by God’s design and providence) the church has been reliant on scholars. Following in the footsteps of Moses, Daniel and Paul are educated men who served as pastor-theologians. Augustine was a world-renowned rhetorician who was prolific in theological works. Martin Luther, before and during the Reformation, was a university professor. In John Calvin’s vision for church leadership, there were not just pastors and deacons but doctors. Thank God in our own time for voices like J.I. Packer, John Stott, Norm Geisler, and many others. Even if you only read Warren Wiersbe and Chuck Smith, they read and were formed by scholars and theologians.

Not recognizing this is like that scene in The Devil Wears Prada where Meryl Streep’s fashion mogul character challenges her frumpy assistant (Anne Hathaway) because she thinks that fashion has nothing to do with her. Still, the color of her discount sweater was the byproduct of the fashion industry she ignored. Fashion flows downstream, and so does theology. What is shared across today’s pulpits flows (seen or unseen) from a great cloud of theologians.

It is this fact that everyone relies on scholars, which brings me to voice my prayer for scholars within our movement. The Pentecostals, who are about 50 years ahead of our charismatic movement, have a saying: missions at dawn, missiology at dusk. What happened with Calvary Chapel in the 70s was just that: a happening. God moved mightily, and we rarely slowed down to articulate, define, or develop what God was doing. However, as the Calvary Chapel movement enters its 5th decade, it is time for prayerful and deep thinking. There are a few reasons this is the case.

Because we face, and will continue to face, new contexts and new challenges

Love it or hate it, our world has changed drastically over the course of our lifetime. These new challenges require us to develop our theology to meet new needs. The word develop is essential. The call for scholarship is not a call to forsake our theology but to identify its central tenants and their implications for today. As we do so, we also discover what was essential and timeless and what was incidental and flexible. I am calling for both a truly Calvary Chapel response, while at the same time recognizing we cannot rely on yesterday’s manna.

Because the church at large needs the unique voice of Calvary Chapel today

We are not alone in facing the new challenges of our world; denominations and movements across evangelicalism are seeking to thoughtfully respond to the issues of our day. Calvary Chapel has already had an immeasurable impact on the church at large, and I am convinced that there are challenges today that Calvary is uniquely suited to lead the way on. However we can only do so if we speak, thoughtfully and publicly, from our unique Calvary DNA.

Because if we do not, we will lose our identity and continue to fragment

As I said above, the church is inescapably reliant on scholars. If we do not have them in our midst, we will be solely shaped by those outside. Pretty soon, our common core will be outweighed by our diverse responses and opinions. I am greatly concerned by the growing eclecticism of individual pastoral theologies. Especially among the younger generation of ministers in Calvary Chapel (who read broadly), they often fail to carefully integrate the ideas they find compelling with our heritage. Not every theological trend out there is compatible with our core beliefs, and like an organ transplant, if it does not match our blood type, it will destroy the host.

I also long for unity within Calvary Chapel, but that can only come as Calvary scholars (plural) help us to generate consensus on how God is leading us today. If the loudest and most formative voices are found outside, that will only pull us away from one another and apart as a movement.

Because longevity demands we pass on our roots and not just the outward forms

Fruit cannot be modeled and emulated; a seed must be sown, cultivated, and grow anew. In the same way, nothing less than a theology of Calvary Chapel can sustain the movement. We may be able to create a facsimile in a generation or two, but each generation will just be a copy of the copy before it, and over time the image will degrade until it is not representative at all.

When scholars partner to pass on their legacy and help the next generation to continue what God has done, we call that education.

It is no surprise that many in our movement feel the seminaries outside of Calvary cannot pass on what we see as faithful and vibrant Christianity, but that does not mean we cannot build a better institution. If we were to do so, it no doubt would look different, and I would not have it any other way.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I want to reiterate what I said earlier: Calvary Chapel needs scholars, plural. What is needed cannot be accomplished by a single voice. And pulpits are not a particularly useful tool for developing consensus. Instead, we need venues and institutions which cultivate creative thinking and invite dialogue. Only this will help us continue to move forward together. Only then can we face new circumstances and say with one voice, it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us.

When we were kids, we’d play would you rather. Would you rather is a game where you ask each other ridiculous questions and then take turns picking the answer that you “would rather” do. Pretty simple, yet surprisingly entertaining. We’d ask each other questions like would you rather be really short or really tall? Would you rather be in a zombie apocalypse or a robot apocalypse? Would you rather live in the hottest desert or in the coldest part of Antarctica? Would you rather date Drew Barrymore or Alicia Silverstone? (It was the 90s junior high version of the game apparently.)

Eventually, without fail, our games of would you rather always ended up on the topic of superpowers. Would you rather be really strong or really fast? Would you rather be able to breathe underwater or be able to see through walls? And of course—the most famous would you rather question of all—Would you rather be able to fly or be invisible? (That’s a tough one to be honest. I think I’d like to fly because it’d be a lot more fun. Invisibility does have its perks though, especially since I’m an introvert.)

There’s a point here. When you think about it, we’re all answering would you rather questions every day. This game isn’t just for kids; it’s not just pretending. These are decisions we make in the real world. These are the questions that determine the priorities we have, and the answers we give mold us into the people we become. You can tell a lot about a person from their responses in the real-life game of would you rather.

Would you rather let someone else get the credit at work or take it for yourself? Would you rather eat out every day or learn how to cook food at home? Would you rather stand up for the bullied kid at school and get punched in the nose or keep quiet and look cool in front of your friends? Would you rather be strong but have to go to the gym, or be out of shape but get to sleep in?

These are the kinds of questions we must answer, and sometimes this game isn’t very fun or entertaining.

Then, of course, even in the real-world game of would you rather, we always get to the topic of superpowers. I’m not talking about the Superman make-believe kind of superpowers; I’m talking about the kind of superpowers that God has given each Christian by the Holy Spirit. These are things like the gifts of the Spirit, the fruit of the Spirit, and the virtues that can only be produced by the Spirit.

Christian Superpowers

You are gifted.

At our church we’ve been studying the gifts of the Spirit, and it’s been fun going through each of the gifts and trying to determine what gifts God has given each of us. The gifts of the Spirit are given to us by God’s grace and according to His will. Our job isn’t to choose the gifts that we want, but rather to discover them.
“But one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills.” ^[1]

Some have more visible gifts, like teaching and leadership, and others have more behind-the-scenes gifts like service and giving. For each of the gifts that we’ve been given, we’ve also been given a measure of faith to operate in the gifts, and this is determined by God too.

“For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.” ^[2]

Take note of the first part of that verse about thinking highly of yourself. I’ll get to that in a minute. The point here is that you’ve been supernaturally gifted by God, and we have the privilege to go out and use the gifts for His glory.

You are fruitful.

It’s not only the gifts of the spirit that we’re supernaturally endowed with, but also the fruit of the Spirit.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control …”^[3]

Thankfully, we don’t have to choose which of these we get to have. By the Holy Spirit, we’re entitled to have them all! This is the important topic of abiding in Christ and walking in the Spirit. The closer we are to God, the more fruitful we become. And this is possible for all of us. The Christian life is really a growth process where God is the gardener. He’s watering, pruning, and cultivating us for a fruitful life in Him.

You are humble?

The third category of superpowers that we’ve been given is what I call Christian virtues. These will include the fruit of the Spirit of course, but also include other things like honesty, humility, justice, compassion, trustworthiness, hope, and others. In this group are attributes that we see in Christ. God is good, and Jesus is the image of the invisible God,^[4] so all the things that Jesus does and teaches are good!

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience”^[5]

Within this group of superpowers is that little word humility. If we were playing a game of would you rather, I wonder if humility would be a go-to answer? Would you rather be rich or humble? Would you rather be a strong leader or be humble? Would you rather have charisma or be humble? Thankfully, I don’t think these things are mutually exclusive, but the reality is that when compromises are made, humility is often the first thing to get cut.

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

It’s hard being humble.

Honestly, the challenge is that when God starts to use us, and we start walking in His power and gifting, we slowly but surely start to think that it’s somehow because of us. Other people will fan the flame too.

“So when Peter saw it, he responded to the people: “Men of Israel, why do you marvel at this? Or why look so intently at us, as though by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk?”^[6]

If we’re not careful, pride will take over, and we’ll start to think that we’re something great.

Oh Lord it’s hard to be humble
when you’re perfect in every way.
I can’t wait to look in the mirror
‘cause I get better looking each day.^[7]

Everything depends on this.

The thing about humility is that it’s essential for every other Christian superpower we have. I don’t want to say that it’s the most important attribute on the list, but I’ll say that every other gift, fruit, and virtue depends on this one thing: being humble.
“But He gives more grace. Therefore He says: ‘God resists the proud, But gives grace to the humble.’”^[8]

Our access to all the power of the Holy Spirit comes to us by God’s grace. It’s not earned or deserved. It can’t be worked for or obtained through self-effort. It’s all by God’s grace, and we receive it by faith.

So that leads us to this very important question: Why is humility so important? The answer is because without humility, God’s grace isn’t available to us. Not only is God’s grace not available to us, but God Himself will actually start working against us!

Without humility you become the villain.

This is scary because with pride comes self-deception. We can deceive ourselves into thinking everything is ok. We become like the Pharisees who looked so good outwardly, but inside they were dead. “Everything is great,” we think. “We’re still doing the works of God. We’re gifted, our ministry is powerful … everyone says how good things look.”

You know who else was very gifted, powerful, and beautiful? Satan.

“You said in your heart, ‘I will ascend to heaven; above the stars of God I will set my throne on high; I will sit on the mount of assembly in the far reaches of the north; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.’”^[9]

The greatest villain of all time started out as one of God’s most wonderful creations, but he fell because he lacked humility.

Would you rather …

Let’s get back to our real-life game of would you rather and our Christian superpowers. My prayer is that all of us will be a little more thoughtful about the place of humility in our decisions. It’s really very important, and sadly there’re so many other things that we’ve been choosing lately. What are our ambitions? What are we living for? What are we willing to compromise on to get it? Before you’re tempted to sacrifice humility for success, remember these words:
“Better is a little with the fear of the LORD than great treasure and trouble with it.”^[10]

That means stay humble, stay little, stay small in your own eyes.

Choose humility even if it means missing out on all the greatness and success you think you need. At the end of the day, it’s better to stay humble if it means staying closer to God.

Make humility a priority in life. The world relies on pride, the devil lives on pride, our flesh is full of pride, but by God’s grace, we’ll choose humility. It’s through humility that every other gift, fruit, and virtue become available to us!
“Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.”^[11]

References

^[1] 1 Corinthians 12:11 (NKJV)
^[2] Romans 12:3 (ESV)
^[3] Galatians 5:22–23 (ESV)
^[4] See: Colossians 1:15
^[5] Colossians 3:12 (ESV)
^[6] Acts 3:12 (NKJV)
^[7] The song is “It’s Hard to be Humble” by Mac Davis https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WTrMuZOZvM&ab_channel=MacDavis-Topic
^[8] James 4:6 (NKJV)
^[9] Isaiah 14:13–14 (ESV)
^[10] Proverbs 15:16 (ESV)
^[11] James 4:10 (NKJV)

Originally published on March 1, 2016

I’m not a huge pastry fan, but I do enjoy a fresh, hot slice of apple pie with a generous scoop of rich vanilla ice cream.
The rich, creamy ice cream, luxuriously melting over the warm, flaky, buttery crust is pretty much irresistible. Pie a la Mode was invented about 1885.

Fruit pies were common in the Roman Empire as early as the 5th Century B.C., and ice cream was available to the general public by 1660. Yet, the world would wait more than 200 years before ice cream and pie were combined to offer something wonderful—pie a la Mode. The moral of the story is that sometimes “both and” is better than “either or.”

What Is the “both and” of making disciples?

We need to be both filled with the Spirit and intentional in making disciples. Some might assert that not being intentional is organic, thus led by the Spirit. But that’s not necessarily the case. Similarly, one could argue that if a process is intentional (strategic), it’s of man (flesh) and not of the Spirit.

But again, a review of the Scripture reveals that the claimed divide between organic and strategic is a false dichotomy. In fact, a review of Paul’s ministry at Ephesus demonstrates the “both and” principle (Acts 19:1-7; Eph. 5:18).

Have you ever met people who claimed to be followers of Jesus, but there just seemed to be something missing that made you wonder if they were really submitted to Him? When Paul returned to Ephesus, he found some disciples and asked the curious question “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?” On no other occasion do we have a record of Paul making this inquiry. What prompted him to ask?

Presumably, there appeared to be something missing in their spiritual lives that prompted the question. Perhaps they didn’t seem to be submitted to Christ as Lord, or empowered by the Spirit for Christian living, or perhaps Paul had some discernment about what was lacking. These disciples at Ephesus confessed their ignorance of the Holy Spirit (verse 2).

Yet, the text indicates they were disciples and implies they were believers. They understood the need for repentance and desired to follow Jesus (verse 4). But they were apparently seeking to become mature followers of Christ by either the power of self-discipline or man’s efforts rather than the power of God’s Spirit.

And Paul recognized the problem. Subsequently, the Holy Spirit came upon them and was manifest (verse 6).

Jesus declared that His followers would receive power to represent Him when the Holy Spirit came upon them (Acts 1:8). He likened it to being baptized with the Holy Spirit or being filled with the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:5, 2:4).

We believe that the baptism, or filling of the Spirit, is distinct from salvation, but it may occur at the same time or subsequent to being saved. The work of the Holy Spirit empowers Christian living. Jesus affirmed that the Holy Spirit was available to those who sought this gift from God and were yielded to Him (Luke 11:9-13).

When Paul wrote to the Ephesians, he instructed them as follows: “Be filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:18).

The Greek reveals that it’s a commandment, and the tense can be translated “Being constantly filled with the Spirit.” The terminology of being filled might cause some to assume that we can leak the Holy Spirit, like a car engine can leak a quart of oil. Or we might think that the issue is how much of the Holy Spirit a believer has. Nevertheless, the issue isn’t how much of the Holy Spirit we have, but how much of us the Holy Spirit has.

Being filled with the Holy Spirit flows from being submitted to Jesus. We need to be filled with the Holy Spirit in order to be disciples and to make disciples.

Once the believers at Ephesus were filled with the Holy Spirit, Paul began an intentional process of mentoring them to become mature followers of Christ (Acts 19:8-10). Paul taught the Scriptures daily to make disciples and develop leaders at Ephesus.

The Bible helps us to understand God and know His commandments. Thus, Bible learning is critical to being a disciple. For example, it is through the Scriptures generally, and Ephesians specifically, that we learn how being filled with the Spirit is manifest in praise, gratitude, mutual respect, marriage, family, and the workplace (Eph. 5:17-6:9).

But having knowledge, apart from the power of the Spirit, to apply the lessons is futile. So, making disciples requires us to be both filled with the Spirit and intentional (“both and”).

The filling of the Spirit is so critical to disciple-making that Paul issued a sober warning: “And don’t be drunk with wine in which is dissipation; but be filled with the Spirit …” (Eph. 5:18). Please pardon the pun about “sober” warning, for the issue is not limited to excessive alcohol consumption. Paul’s exhortation is connected to the earlier cautions to live carefully in wisdom, redeem the time, and understand and do the will of God (Eph. 5:15-17).

Excessive alcohol consumption is an obstacle to being controlled by God, and is sin. And Paul notes that being drunk is dissipation. Dissipation relates to squandering energy, time, money, or other resources.

The only way to avoid wasting resources and wasting a life is to be intentional to live as Christ’s disciples, disciples who make disciples. And the only way to be a disciple is to be controlled by God or filled with the Spirit.

Thus, the moral of this story is that sometimes “both and” is better than “either or.”

Lifework

1. How can disciples neglect the need for the filling of the Spirit?
2. Why is it helpful to have an intentional process, along with the filling of the Spirit, to help become a disciple?
3. How do you believe that being filled with the Spirit and intentionally going through the discipleship process would help you in making disciples?

Originally published on Nick’s blog on April 11, 2019.

At age 19, Augustine Aurelius—later to be known as Augustine of Hippo—read a dialogue by the Roman philosopher Cicero in which Cicero stated that every person sets out to be happy, but the majority are thoroughly wretched. Truly, no one dreams as a child of one day growing up to be miserable, and yet many people’s lives are characterized by conflict, frustration and unfulfilled longings.

Augustine set out to discover why it is that most people are so discontent in life. His conclusion was that for most of us, our lives are “out of order”; we have disordered loves.

Augustine was convinced that what defines a person more than anything is what they love. He said that when we ask if someone is a “good” person, what we are asking is not what they believe or what they hope for, but rather what they love. He stated that what we consider human virtues, e.g. courage, honesty, etc. are essentially forms of love. Courage is loving your neighbor’s well-being more than your own safety. Honesty is loving someone enough to tell them the truth even if it may put you at a disadvantage.

Sin, Augustine said, is ultimately a lack of love, either for God or for your neighbor. He famously stated that “The essence of sin is disordered love.”

Disordered loves means that we often love less-important things more, and more-important things less than we ought to, and this wrong prioritization leads to unhappiness and disorder in our lives.

This is essentially what James says in his epistle:

What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions. (James 4:1-3)

James is saying that what makes people miserable is not their circumstances, but that they are chasing after the wrong things, for the wrong reasons. The things they love are out of order.

Many times we view people as a means to an end, using them rather than loving them. Oftentimes we seek God primarily because we find him useful, rather than seeking him because we find him beautiful. We relate to him as useful to us, to help us achieve our selfish goals, rather than seeking his agenda for our lives.

Originally published on Nick’s blog December 8, 2020.

Unbelievable News

Through the prophet Habakkuk, God spoke to the people of Judah, telling them this:

“Look among the nations, and see;
wonder and be astounded.
For I am doing a work in your days
that you would not believe if told.”
Habakkuk 1:5

But what exactly would this thing be that God was going to do, which was so incredible that people wouldn’t have believed it even if they were told? The very next verse reveals the answer:

“For behold, I am raising up the Chaldeans,
that bitter and hasty nation,
who march through the breadth of the earth,
to seize dwellings not their own.”
Habakkuk 1:6

The Chaldeans are also known as the Babylonians. What God was telling the people through Habakkuk was that He was going to raise up the Babylonian Empire to bring judgment on both the Assyrians … and upon Jerusalem!

The result of the Babylonian attack on Jerusalem would be that the Temple would be destroyed, and the people of Judah would be carried off into exile for an entire generation.

The idea that God would allow a wicked nation like Babylon to attack and destroy Jerusalem was inconceivable to the people of Judah; it was the kind of news that was so incredible that they wouldn’t have believed even if someone told them!

After all, they were the people of God! Didn’t God love them? Then why would He let this wicked nation to attack them, defeat them, destroy the Temple, and carry them off into exile, making them slaves and subjects who lived as minorities under pagan rulers?

The Unexpected Blessings of the Exile

But perhaps even more difficult to believe would have been the fact that in many ways, though the exile was painful, it would end up being one of the best things that ever happened to the people of Israel.

The destruction of the Temple and exile in Babylon were their greatest fears, and what God was telling them was that their greatest fears were going to become reality. The people of Israel assumed that because they were God’s chosen people, God would never let anything like that happen to them, and yet He did.

It begs the question: if God loved them, why would He let this happen to them?

The answer is: God intended to use this to accomplish good things in their lives that wouldn’t happen any other way.

In Hebrews 12, God tells us that as a loving father, He disciplines His children. He does this not in spite of His love for us, but because of His love for us!

Some of the Blessings That Israel Experienced in Exile:

• The divided kingdoms of Israel and Judah were reunited (because Babylon conquered Assyria), and they would come out of the exile as a united nation once again.
• Many of the people turned back to God and forsook the worship of idols, which had long plagued them as a people.
• A new form of worship was born: because they were cut off from the Temple, the Jewish people began gathering together in Synagogues, where they would study the Scriptures and pray.

Synagogues developed during the exile, and the Jewish people brought them back home with them and continued them after the exile and after the rebuilding of the Temple. Prior to the exile, the people of Israel had a relatively weak relationship with the Scriptures. Consider the fact that when King Josiah found a copy of the Scriptures in the Temple during the renovation, it was the only known copy, and no one had seen it in many years!

Because of the exile, and fueled by the lack of a Temple, the people began regularly studying the Word of God in Babylon, and as they became familiar with it, their hearts were being prepared for the coming of Jesus in the years to come.

The exile was the people’s greatest fear. It was a form of chastisement from God, but ultimately, it was one of the best things that ever happened to the people of Israel.

More Than Conquerors

The idea of being in exile was considered by the early Christians to be a good picture of what it means to be a Christian: we are a minority group living in a place that’s not our home, and in this place we experience hardships.

As Paul wrote to the Philippians: to be a Christian is to live on Earth but to have your primary citizenship and identity rooted in Heaven. And yet, as foreigners and sojourners in this world, we understand that God has us here for a purpose.

Just as the exile and the destruction of Jerusalem were the greatest fears of the people of Judah, we might have things in our lives that we consider to be our greatest fears—whether on a social or a personal level. Yet what we learn from Israel’s exile and the realization of their greatest fears is that God uses even terrible and painful things to accomplish beautiful things in and through our lives.

This is what it means in Romans 8:37 when Paul says that in Christ we are “more than conquerors”:

it means that because of what Jesus did for us to redeem us and make us children of God, the worst things that could ever happen to us in this life are also the best things that can ever happen to us! And if that’s the case, then you have absolutely nothing to fear!

Trials and difficulties will be used by God for your good and for His purposes. Hardships will draw you closer to Him. Death will literally bring you to Him. All the worst things that can possibly happen to you, in Christ, are also the best things that can ever happen to you—because of God’s love for you and commitment to you. In Him, you’re bulletproof! You’re more than a conqueror through Him who loved you!

If you spend any amount of time online or on social media, you are likely aware of the global microscope that is currently examining the Church on every possible platform and medium. Wolves in sheep’s clothing are being exposed. Christian women are sharing their experiences in church cultures that were deeply rooted in misogyny. Purity Culture has met its reckoning. Toxic positivity is being unpacked. Victims of spiritual and sexual abuse are finding their voice.

And while this movement taking place where all that has been hidden in the dark is now being brought into the light is both necessary and long-awaited, one might find themself spiraling into feelings of disillusionment and disappointment—due to the Church’s failure to line up with the good, loving, and righteous God that it claims to represent.

Please allow me to begin this series forthrightly, and with as much candor as possible:

Are there abusers and predators who utilize the Church as a hunting ground for their own volatile appetites? Yes, there are.

Do churches exist where Scripture is twisted and weaponized to enforce abusive ideologies and exert control over congregations? Indeed.

Have narcissists been drawn to the pulpit, not for love of the Word, but for love of the sound of their own voice? Yes.

Has there been accounts of women being subjugated, and written off as weak, inferior, and unqualified to be taken seriously within ministry, in an attempt to undermine and diminish the God-given dignity and autonomy of the female sex? … Uh yeah. Like, all the time.

And for these very reasons, and many others, there are those who would like nothing more than to tear the Church down, brick by brick.

The Reality and Risk of Engaging in the Church

There is an extensive history of corrupt men and women infiltrating the Body of Christ, and it dates back to the days of Paul. In fact, Jesus Himself warned us through His own parables that this would be the case. (See Matthew 13:24-32, 47-52.)

The inescapable truth is countless ugly, painful, and downright horrific acts have been committed within church walls. And friends, as corruption and abuse within the Church continue to be brought to the light, and the topic of church-hurt increases in discussion and acknowledgment, it can be easy to grow weary in the faith.

As a believer, missionary, and pastor’s wife, I can attest that many of the deepest wounds in my own heart were exacted at the hands of my fellow Christians and co-laborers. So, I speak with compassion and understanding when I say that sometimes it can seem safer to stay at arms length from the church; after witnessing or experiencing the ugly side of humanity within churches, one might easily find themself ready to withdraw from Christian spaces.

Indeed, there is emotional security in exchanging communal gathering, for tuning in online. There is less risk when minimizing our involvement and trading fellowship between members of the Body for the position of user and product. Spiritual abuse and hypocrisy have done immeasurable damage to the lives of believers. Additionally, legalism and the misuse of Scripture have choked and snuffed out the passion from even the most ardent followers of Jesus, leaving so many feeling raw, jaded, and embittered.

Yet it is for all of the reasons listed above that we must lean in, rather than pull away.

Yes, playing the role of the consumer provides comfort and security, but how will we make crucial changes in the culture if we remain safely far removed from the central inner workings of the Body?

The Price That Was Paid—So That We Might Gather

The Church is a precious thing.

Not the buildings.

Not ornate pulpits or floor-to-ceiling projectors.

Nor the stages and stained-glass windows.

But the Church, being the gathering and the fellowship of those who follow Jesus, is precious beyond measure.

I recognize that, for many, it might not feel that way right now.

In order to regain perspective on why this entity that we call the Body, is indeed invaluable, we must first look at that Holy day on the hill of Golgotha, where Jesus poured Himself out for the sake of our redemption.

The One who spoke light into existence, was spit upon, degraded, and denied even the modesty of a loincloth, was stripped naked and humiliated. The same One who commands the morning sun and causes the dawn to know its place (Job 38:12) allowed Himself to be blindfolded and beaten, receiving blow after blow, all while in the most vulnerable state possible.

He, who formed man out of the dust and designed every function, every nerve, every atom that would constitute the human anatomy, subjected Himself to be tortured and laid bare, with every limb and every inch of His Holy body lacerated and ripped open. Holding nothing back, the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, the One who has existed outside of time and space, and holds entire galaxies in the palm of His hand, gave every last drop of blood that His earthly body possessed.

There was nothing that Jesus withheld in humanity’s rescue. He gave all: His safety, His dignity, His blood. His last breath.

What Jesus did at the cross made salvation available to any and all who put their trust in Him. Jesus triumphed over the chaos, destruction, and havoc that sin wrecks in the lives of mankind, and through His own death, made a way to offer us new and eternal life – “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

In addition to giving us unprecedented access to the Creator and His throne room of Grace, Jesus set forth into motion a revolution that would turn the world upside down. He became the foundation, and the cornerstone, of an innovation the likes of which had never been seen before: the Church.

Moving Forward

When I was sixteen, I learned of the German Count Zinzindorf and the Moravian Church that helped change the world almost three hundred years ago, and I have often reflected on the words of two, particularly extraordinary, Moravian missionaries. In 1732, a couple of young men—free European men—sold themselves into slavery so that, for the sake of the gospel, they might access and reach three thousand enslaved men, women, and children kept on an island in the West Indies. This island was owned by a British atheist who had refused to allow any pastors or clergymen to breach the shores of his odious isle-wide plantation. On October 8th, as the two Moravians boarded the ship that would deliver them to a life of captivity and the total loss of all liberty and personal security, their families gathered, waving and shouting their goodbyes to the departing vessel. And it was then that these young missionaries raised their voices from the deck and proclaimed the last words that their loved ones would ever hear them say:

“May the Lamb that was slain, receive the reward for which He suffered.”

Friends, the Church is the direct result of Christ’s work at the cross. The Church is not a building with fog machines and a charismatic speaker. It is not giant crowds and big events. It is not even the location where you may have been hurt or let down.

The Church is the people, the followers of Jesus, whose lives were bought at the highest cost.

In Acts 20:28, Paul charges the leaders, pastors, and overseers to take heed as Shepards of God’s church—which He purchased with His blood. This is how seriously God takes His Church. And this is why, if we call ourselves followers of Jesus, we cannot abandon the assembly of the saints.

Jesus bled, not just for our salvation, but for our ability to meet in worship, fellowship, and encouragement. He desires for us to do life with each other, praying for one another and bearing each other’s burdens.

We know that before the cross, the Church did not exist. The people of Israel worshiped Yahweh in their temples, separate and removed from Gentiles. Spiritual segregation was a maze of layers upon layers of rabbinic law and uncrossable boundaries. In contrast, when the veil was torn, and Christ died and rose again, He ushered in a radical shift that would allow for every nation and every tribe, from every corner of the earth, to gather together, unified in love and devotion for the Messiah who delivered them from sin and darkness.

As we navigate our faith and our affiliations during this movement of exposure, let us not turn our backs on the very Church that Christ purchased with His blood. Likewise, for those of us who are in ministry, let us remember that placing our heads in the sand does no one any good, and denial will not make the issues go away.

The way that we will make the vital and significant changes that our church cultures desperately need first requires honesty from some, and perhaps a willingness to forgive from others. From there, we can start working to bring about the healthier functions that we want to see, which can only happen through our readiness to get more involved.

IF we want to see more accountability and safeguards to protect the most vulnerable members of our congregations, we have to get engaged and advocate for those things. IF we want healthier practices and more gospel-centered culture in our churches, then we have to invest our own time and energy to be part of the work. Not everyone is called to be a pastor, but every Jesus follower is called to be in community.

The solution to the issues that our churches face is not easy or simple; it will require something from us. Maybe, that is forgiveness and a willingness to trust again. Perhaps it is the giving of time and service to a ministry. For many of those who still faithfully attend church every Sunday, maybe what is required of them, for the betterment of our church cultures, is vulnerability and the practice of letting go of the carefully crafted veneer of the “perfect Christian” or the “perfect family.”

Dissecting, disconnecting, and ultimately, tearing apart the Church due to failures and dysfunction, will not make our world any safer or any more just.

Jesus said that His people are to be the light of the world and a city on a hill that cannot be hidden. “In the same way, let your light shine before others so that they might see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:16 CSB). We cannot be that city on the hill if we abandon the Church. Instead, let us commit ourselves to the healing and the betterment of our church bodies. In the places where we see a need for change, let us invest ourselves into those very same areas.

This article is the first, an introduction actually, to a series of articles where I would like to break open some of the points of concern that I, myself, have, or have discussed with others, as well as how we might put the necessary work into practice.

‘Cause it’s worth it.

And I hope you will consider with me how we might be the change we wish to see.

My wife Lynne and I went onto the mission field when were young. We left America in our early twenties and spent ten years in Africa planting churches and ministering to those in need. During our whole married life, we’ve been involved in missions and church planting in one way or another. We may have missed out on a lot of other stuff, but we had a blast doing what God had called us to do. The missions life is a good life.

Lynne and I met at Calvary Chapel Bible College, and like many other good bible college couples, we got married right after school.

Calvary Chapel Bridal College. Am I right?

We then moved to Georgia (the state not the country) for our first two years of marriage. We connected with a new church plant and learned practical ministry from my friend Ben Sloboda. He’d planted a Calvary Chapel in Athens, and we both got jobs in town and helped at the church.

It was a great couple of years. Judah, our son, was born there, and we learned a lot about ministry and life. We also started to see that God had a specific plan for us. We ended up turning a short-term trip into a long-term career.

Mission Work Was (and Still Is) Our Life

Our goal had always been to move onto the mission field—preferably somewhere in Africa. While at Bible College, Lynne heard a motivating message from Wes Bentley of Far Reaching Ministries. He shared about the work that God was doing through a small group of missionaries in Uganda. As he spoke, Lynne’s heart was stirred for the orphans of East Africa. She was feeling the call to missions, and she was responding with faith. I felt the call too. Once we were married, we committed to following God wherever He would lead us. We both had a desire to work in foreign missions, serving God overseas.

Long before ever stepping foot on the mission field, missions was our life. We supported mission organizations. We prayed for people in other countries. Missionary conferences and visiting missionaries were a few of our favorite things. We both loved hearing stories of people serving Christ in far off places. We loved all the amazing things that God’s people were doing around the world. That’s what we wanted to do too. We wanted to give our lives for the lost. We wanted to be like Jim and Elizabeth Elliot (without the dying part). We wanted to attempt great things for God and expect great things from God. We wanted to be missionaries.

After that first motivational message back at Bible college, Wes Bentley prayed for Lynne to be a missionary to Uganda. It was a prophetic prayer, and two years later we joined a mission team headed to Kampala. That was the beginning of an amazing journey that our family was privileged to be a part of. God prepared all this in advance, and we simply had to walk with Him by faith.

I feel like I could write a book about all the stuff we got to see and experience on the mission field, but this isn’t the time for that. I think even some of the “normal” stuff we did would make for an interesting read. It definitely wouldn’t be a book where we were the heroes of the story, though. Frankly, most of the time we were just holding on for dear life. It’s kind of embarrassing when I look back at some of the foolish things I said and did. Don’t get me wrong, there was a lot of good stuff, but I sure would’ve done a few things differently.

At any rate, our eventual success as missionaries in Africa wasn’t because of us. We went with insufficient training, insufficient funds, and insufficient support. It was almost as if God selected a couple that couldn’t possibly take the credit even if they wanted to. That was us. Thankfully, even in our insufficiency, we were sent out by a sufficient God. In our weakness, God is strong. By the grace of God, we were able to establish a successful Calvary Chapel ministry in East Africa that continues to this day.

All of Us Are Called to Mission Work in One Way or Another

I’m not here to write about our missions adventures. I’m not here to write a book of stories recounting God’s faithfulness to us in Africa. I’m simply here to write a short article about how I think that all of us are called to mission work in one way or another.

If someone were to ask you the question, “Why are you a missionary?” You may respond with, “Who says I’m a missionary?” They, believing it to be true, might reply, “You are a missionary.”

But are all Christians called to be missionaries? The answer is yes and no.

Yes, because all Christians have been given the great commission by Christ. He says, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation” (Mark 16:15). This is our job. This is our purpose as a church in the world. He said, “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19-20). So, if we as Christians are supposed to go into the world and make disciples, then I think we’re all called to the task of missions and church planting in some fashion.

A simple definition of the word missionary means someone who’s sent on a mission with a message. It’s Jesus who has sent all of us on His mission with the gospel message. So according to Jesus, all of us are missionaries in that sense.

Don’t get scared though. It doesn’t mean you’re called to go to Africa or that you must leave your job and travel to a foreign country. We’re not all supposed to be missionaries in that way. God has a specific calling for all of us, including the type of people who travel to the remote parts of the world, or who plant churches among unreached tribes. That may or may not be you.

Unfortunately, I see a lot of Christians using the, “I’m not called to be a missionary” attitude as an excuse to not be involved in reaching the lost. They think because they aren’t called to “missions,” then they can focus on other things. Listen, just because God hasn’t called you to be a foreign missionary, it doesn’t mean you aren’t supposed to be involved in the mission of God in the world.

I remember years ago hearing a quote from John Piper: “Go, send, or disobey.” That’s heavy but it’s true. If we don’t take the Great Commission seriously then we’re not in line with the heart of God. He’s seeking people from every tribe tongue and nation to worship Him around the throne (Revelation 7:9). If we don’t all get involved in mission work, and get the message out to all these people, then they won’t be able to hear and be saved (Romans 10:14). That’s on us.

This means that we need to stop living for ourselves and start putting our time, resources, and effort into reaching the lost for Christ. The great thing about it is that we can do that wherever we are. We are all on mission, even if it’s right here at home. It’s like the sign outside of the church parking lot, “You are now entering the mission field.”

Ready to Serve, Send, and Go for the Sake of Christ

So, go and share the gospel with someone. Write a check to a missionary family. Join a missions small group. It’s not that complicated. Answer the call of God by saying, “Here I am Lord, send me” and watch the amazing things that He will do in your life.

You know, Lynne and I aren’t on the mission field in Africa anymore. We aren’t worried about not having enough support, the power going out, getting malaria, or dealing with the many complexities of living in another culture. We are just down here in Florida hanging out and planting a church. We are pretty much back to normal life again, and we are thankful to God for this season. But, deep down, the truth is that we still feel the same zeal and passion that we have always had for the great commission. Whether we’re here in America, or traveling to a foreign destination, we’re ready to serve, send, and go for the sake of Christ.

And that’s God’s heart for all of us. He wants us to join Him in His mission to seek and save the lost. So, are you a missionary? Well, you get the amazing privilege of answering that for yourself. I’m hoping the answer is “Yes!”

This is part 3 of a 3 part series. You can find part 1 and part 2 here: Part 1 Part 2

(Originally published on March 7, 2016)

Practicing Priesthood

In the previous posts in this series, we looked at the need to set the culture in regards to depression, as well as provide training for the church. Now we come to the third aspect to consider, namely, we are a royal priesthood and are called to act as priests toward one another (1 Pet. 2:9). These are the trenches of one-anothering. Our maturing and training is lived out within a culture for the purpose of aiding one another in growth. A person struggling with depression feels isolated and alone. They scream out into the darkness, “Why?!” not, “How?!” He or she is not looking for steps but for meaning. We can easily err in this priestly role and try to be engineers—dealing symptomatically to restore normalcy. In walking with someone who suffers with depression, the priest seeks to help with the deeper struggle.

Recently Jennifer (not her real name), who battles depression, told me that, “It feels like I can’t live, but I can’t die either. My heart is continually ripped out over and over again.” Such words echo Bunyan’s Giant Despair in The Pilgrim’s Progress, “Why should you choose life, seeing it is accompanied by so much bitterness?” The Proverbs tell us that, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick” (Pro. 13:12). Such hearts need voices of hope, to speak into their pain. In endeavoring to impart hope, we must ensure that the hope we impart is Gospel hope.

We can easily impart false or trite hopes in an effort to lighten spirits. Gospel hope, however, is the sustaining wind that carries us through the storm to our desired haven (Psalm 107:30).

Below are four different ways we can seek to unveil this hope:

Befriending

Just this week, I spoke with Edward (not his real name) whose neighbour committed suicide. Edward, oblivious to his neighbour’s depression, assumed his neighbour was simply avoiding relationship. While he may have been avoiding relationship, it was expressive of his isolation. But the greater our suffering, the greater will be our sense of feeling alone. Hope says, “You are not alone.” “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity” (Pro 17:17). Befriending one who suffers, brings Christ near to them through his Body. God said he would never leave us nor forsake us (Deut 31:6). He declares us His friends (John 15:15). We can model the hope of God’s presence in befriending those struggling with depression.

Remembering

Second, when we remember people, it tells them that, even though we are out of sight, they are still in mind. In Ed Welch’s book, Side by Side, he says, “If we are affected by someone’s suffering, we will remember it, which is one of the great gifts that we give to each other” (pg. 103). The Apostle Paul certainly communicated this in his prayers for the church, “I always remember you in my prayers” (I Tim 1:3, see also Eph 1:16; Phil 1:4). Remembering communicates,“You matter.” It is certainly true that we are created for a purpose, and we are meant to be shaped by one another (Pro 27:17). Remembering brings solidarity, and there is beauty in solidarity, “Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them… since you also are in the body” (Heb 13:3).

Sufferers of depression often feel that they are incapable of expressing their anguish. Our remembering their anguish says that at some level, “I feel your pain.” Knowing another feels their pain helps unbolt the doors of solitude. This too is a reminder that we have a high priest who can, “Sympathize with our weaknesses” (Heb 4:15). The fact that weaknesses is plural means we cannot exclude a category of weakness (such as depression), from Christ’s sympathies.

Grace Hunting

Third, as we enter into their pain, we obtain a new vantage point. Our first response tends to be going on an idol hunt. We want to find the sin or the idol that is at the heart. Whilst there is a place for this, the depressed person is likely heavily engaged in morbid introspection and thus would be greatly helped seeing signs of God’s grace at work in them. Saying something like, “You are so courageous. God has given you grace this week to get out of bed and get the kids to school.” We want to commend manifested grace where we see it. For those who feel hopeless and alone, this is a reminder that God is near and working even in the mundane.

Jesus’ Suffering

Fourth, the suffering of Jesus is both our example and help. We may want to speak of the glories of heaven obtained by Jesus’ suffering. But there is also consolation in Christ’s suffering itself. Spurgeon, who suffered from depression, said, “It is an unspeakable consolation that our Lord Jesus knows this experience.” Zack Eswine, in his book Spurgeon’s Sorrows writes, “To feel in our being that the God to whom we cry has Himself suffered as we do enables us to feel that we are not alone and that God is not cruel.” Here we can begin to see our burden as belonging to him.

When Amy Carmichael struggled with an unbearable burden in India, she considered Christ and his burden bearing in the Garden, “Under one of those trees our Lord Jesus knelt, and He knelt alone. And I knew that this was His burden not mine. It was He who was asking me to share it with Him, not I who was asking Him to share it with me.” She found great comfort knowing that she was partaking in the sufferings of Christ. Jesus not only knows our pain, he endured it, and we kneel beside him in it.

Continuing Work

God is a redeeming God, who continually works his redemption into us. As we walk with depression sufferers, God is not only continuing to work in them, he is continuing to work in us. We mutually grow, building one another up in our most holy faith, as we await the day when all sin, sickness, and death gives way to the glorious liberty of the children of God (Rom 8:21).

Last November, I wrote an article about knowing God as a conventional relationship. I developed an idea from John Frame that describes how profound our friendship with the Father is. It’s a living, loving knowledge we experience that grows through time. Even when things are uncertain or anxiety and frustration run as an undercurrent to the current conversation—He promises to walk through it with us. He will see to it. We know our generous God gives us the courage to face the challenges of today. We know this because we know Him, and He sees us. Living consciously under His watchful gaze adds a perspective that deepens our friendship with the Almighty. Not that we look for the quick fix, easy answer that places a Band-Aid and smiles over a heart truly shaken; instead, in reality, we look to His provision.

When it comes to provision, the question isn’t only financial: it’s the condition of the heart. His providence (the fact that He takes care of his Creation, guides it, maintains it, and uses it to accomplish His purposes) enables us to know Him. It would be wrong to claim that God doesn’t see. In His provision (taking care of us), He also walks with us in our troubles, enabling us to walk with others in theirs, as He did with Abraham in Genesis 22.

How Abraham Found the Strength He Needed

The patriarch’s faithfulness in the passage is remarkable. I can’t imagine a father’s stress, confusion, and sadness in such a situation. Moreover, God said: “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love” (v. 2). Abraham obeyed; he got up early (v. 3) and walked for three days following the Lord (v. 4).

The small conversations in the passage reveal the human side of his trial. It’s the theology of everyday life. God called him by name, and Abraham immediately answered, “Here I am” (vv. 1, 11). He listened to the Lord. But I’d go further to say Abraham lived by listening to God. He knew the presence of God, as his shield (Genesis 15.1), as a friend (Isaiah 41:8), as the provider of a new homeland (Hebrews 11:14-15), and as the One who always keeps His promises. The way Abraham spoke to God reminds me of something Dallas Willard wrote:

“The air that our souls need also envelops all of us at all times and on all sides. God is round us in Christ on every hand, with his many-sided and all-sufficient grace. All we need to do is open our hearts.”¹

Abraham’s heart was open, living under God’s kind and watchful eye—experiencing Him in the daily routine, answering Him when the call led him to a place beyond comprehension.

I’m also fascinated by the conversation between Abraham and Isaac (vv. 6-8). Isaac sees everything that happens and questions his father about the apparent lack: Where is the lamb? Isaac was curious, but Abraham’s answer reassures us about God’s providence: “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” (v. 8). He trusts in the One who has provided everything until that moment, hoping in the resurrection (Hebrews 11:19), even while discovering the reality of the trial.

God Sees To It

To return to God’s provision, it’s in verse 8 where we come across the word י ר א ה (Yi-ré-he), which is traditionally transliterated as Jireh. It comes from the Hebrew verb ראה (r’h), which means to “see,”² meaning that God will see for himself or see to it.³

This is why we read in verse 8 that God “provides” a lamb; He saw to it. In other passages, we translate the same verb (י ר א ה or Yi-ré-he) as “appearing” in Exodus 3:16, Leviticus 9:4, and 1 Samuel 3:21.

If, in these passages, (ראה – r’h) means that God appears in one way or another, why would Bible translators put “provide” here? Because literally, that’s what happens in verse 13. Abraham raised his head and saw that God had provided a ram caught by the horns in the bush beside it. However, “see” (ראה) is still nuanced in the text. Interestingly, in their translation of Genesis and Rashi’s commentary, the French rabbinate incorporates the meaning of the verb “to see” in the text.

What’s the relationship between “seeing” and “providing”? The verb to see (ראה) in Genesis 1 reads that God “saw that it was good.” True, this is a description of the work of Creation, but isn’t it a description of His providence at the same time? God created it, saw it, and validated it. All that He made, the laws of science that run through His completed work, testify to His seeing that all His creatures should be well cared for in His creation.

Thus, the link between “see” and “provide” also benefits us. But it’s a subject that also concerns our belonging to Him. For example, in Genesis 16:13, Hagar, mistreated by Sarah and chased away, found herself in the wilderness under God’s loving gaze. He saw. Receiving the consolation of her soul, she said: “You are the God who sees me.” Do we not find, even in her recollection of God, the provision for her life and soul in His benevolent gaze? Esther Lightcap Meek notes:

“We need the face of the Holy, the personal Other—we need it as the decentering and recentering of who we are, to be well, and to know well.”⁴

That means God’s provision is personal and accurate. He sees the situation in which we find ourselves, appears, and provides for our needs in a more profound way than our prayers can adequately express.

Therefore, returning to the link between “seeing” and “providing,” there was no question of God allowing Abraham to sacrifice his son. He provided a ram, and then in 2 Chronicles 3:1, on Mount Moriah, where the scene took place (v. 2), provided what would become the site of the Temple and the perpetual sacrifice. This is where YHWH says, “I will always have my eyes and my heart there” (2 Chronicles 7:16). The place He saw, where He provided, was also where He appeared. To use the reflective verb Jireh, God provided or saw to it himself in Jesus, according to the words of John the Baptist in John 1:29, “Behold, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” The words reflect a beautiful image of Jesus and the Father. The Father sends the Son, his “beloved, his only” (John 3:16), to become the substitute for all the Isaacs of the world. We’re not far from the model of “Jireh”: God sees, appears, and provides.

How We, Too, Can Find the Strength We Need … and More

That’s why it’s too restrictive to see this passage only in light of our financial or physical needs. I believe that the passage speaks instead of the Person who embodies the providence of God and who is, in reality, all that we need. Of course, we need God to provide for everything in this economy and time of social uncertainties. That isn’t a quick-fix solution but more of a long-term accompanying of His presence and work in our lives. Yes, He taught us to pray for daily bread, and He will provide. But, even more, we need to receive Jesus. He sees us, knows our struggles, and His gaze toward us is full of lovingkindness. Looking back into His strong, comforting eyes in times of silence and biblical meditation will give us the strength we need. It’ll also enable us to enjoy His presence as we wait for Him to see to it.

References

¹ Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy, (New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 1998), 90.
² The “yod” (י) shows us that the verb is conjugated to the “niphal,” which gives it a reflexive or passive tense.
³ John Piper, Providence, (Wheaton: Crossway, 2020), 30-32.
In the first chapter, “What is Divine Providence?”, Piper explains how the English word providence, as used in this passage, came about. First, he begins with the Latin suffix pro (to), and the verb vide (to see). Then he explains the theological rationale for the translation of the word provide: “The answer I suggest is that in the mind of Moses, and other authors of Scripture, God does not simply see as a passive bystander. As God, he is never merely an observer. He is not a passive observer of the world—and not a passive predictor of the future. Wherever God is looking, God is acting. In other words, there is a profound theological reason why God’s providence does not merely mean his seeing, but rather his seeing to.”
⁴ Esther Lightcap Meek, Loving to Know: Introducing Covenant Epistemology, (Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2011), Kindle 287.

This is Part 2 of a 3 part series. You can find Part 1 here:

The Church & Victims Of Depression

Providing Training

In our last post in this series, we looked at promoting culture. This is almost like saying, “Imagine what could be,” and then making steps in the direction of what could be. However, such things will never be without those of us in church leadership providing training for the saints. This is Paul’s call to the Ephesian church, so every joint is outfitted with the training they need for redemptive up-building in love (Eph. 4:11-16). These verses teach us that ministry is a participation sport.

In my experience with Anita, I began to think that people who suffer with things like depression could only be helped by highly skilled professionals. Whilst professional involvement may be needed, this should not relegate the body of Christ to the sideline. The leadership of the church can empower the church to help and not harm people further. We harm them further when we toss out trite sayings like “Let go and let God,” or “If you were trusting Jesus, you wouldn’t be depressed.” Many of these types of responses see depression merely through the lens of sin rather than the lens of both sin and suffering.

If we as pastors are going to shepherd well, we need to think about how we can help our congregations incarnate into people’s sufferings.

We must help them to think biblically about the role of suffering in a Christian’s life. In some cases, such as my own, I had to begin studying these things at a deeper level in order to aid my congregation. Much of this training will boil down to helping the church walk in humility, preferring one another, and walking alongside one another. One way I have learned to help train my congregation is to apply the sermons with the understanding that 1 in 5 of my congregation will suffer from depression, and the other 4 in 5 will have the opportunity to walk with someone who suffers from depression.

If we bring this struggle out of darkness into light, the sufferer is better enabled to run to Christ, and the church can help point the way. This helps give the body of Christ something to grab hold of. And since we are more alike than different, the church will learn more about ourselves as well in addition to truths we already know, just applied more deeply.

Originally published on February 29, 2016

Like most women, I have faced many difficult trials throughout my life. What has steadied me and brought me through with hope? The Word of God and the Word made flesh. I cannot imagine what my life would have held if not for this anchor for my soul, this wisdom, and the promised presence of Jesus through it all.

In my previous article, “Women’s Bible Study, Where Are You?” posted on 3/3/23, I expounded on the case for women’s Bible study—how Paul recognized the need for women to teach other women the Word of God for its practical application to their lives. The following is my testimony, partial for sure, of how God used His Word to provide hope in my dire need of divine wisdom.

In my early 20’s, I had four children in eight years. The first time I ever read the Scriptures was at the age of 16, so I was a true novice. I soon discovered that the Bible held the truth I needed about these little humans and what family life should look like. I had joined a weekly women’s Bible study which provided an in-depth look into either the epistles of Paul, the gospels, or one of the major Old Testament historical books. There I learned about being created in the image of God, the fall of mankind, original sin, and how everyone was born into this world with a sinful nature.

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” – Romans 3:23 (NIV)

This knowledge helped me navigate through raising little sinners who, to my shock and surprise, did not want to behave like Scripture taught! And in response, I found myself not responding in the right ways to their tiny rebellions and mutinies. The prevailing childrearing teaching of the 80’s was that children were born basically good, and they just needed a healthy self-image to behave themselves. However, these ideas did not bear witness to the reality of what I saw in my own children.

During their naptimes, I had to look up verses about losing one’s temper, being quarrelsome, outbursts of anger, and the need to repent of these weaknesses of character. I saw that, as a parent, I was called to teach my children the ways of the Lord, to nurture and train them with gentle discipline. The doctrine of “original sin” is the only one we can prove by simple observance of human behavior, both ours and that of others.

Do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” – Ephesians 6:4 (NIV)

Yes, we are fallen creatures, fallen from the image of God. But I learned that the Holy Spirit of God is sent to teach, comfort, and transform us into the image of Jesus Christ. By observing other women raising their older children in the ways of the Lord, I gleaned needed wisdom from them and applied it to my own growing family.

Throughout my life I faced threatening health issues. At age 17, I was diagnosed with cancer and went through surgery to remove it. In my late 20’s, it cropped up its ugly head again, so I had radioactive iodine treatment to destroy the remaining cancer cells. During this time, I saw in my Bible that Scripture taught “children were gifts from the Lord,” not burdens. God promised needed strength, and I learned to continually give thanks to God that I was even able to bear four children in-between these life-threatening trials.

“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.” – Psalm 127:3 (NIV)

Drowning in laundry, chores, my kids’ school homework, and sibling rivalry, I found myself again complaining about the tedious workload of family life. “Lord, is this really my calling in life? To fold Nicky’s tiny t-shirts which takes no brains whatsoever?”

Serving Wholeheartedly, As If Serving the Lord, Not People (Ephesians 6:7)

In my mid-30’s, I was diagnosed with a large cyst on my ovary the size of a grapefruit, so I underwent surgery again to remove the mysterious mass. When I woke up, I feared the worst—that I had lost my ovaries and my uterus due to cancer. My petty complaints suddenly turned to desperate pleas: “Lord, if I am not around anymore, who will take joy in folding Nicky’s tiny t-shirts?” Thankfully, it was a non-cancerous dermoid cyst that was easily removed, and one of my ovaries had been spared.

In Paul’s teaching to the church at Colossea, I learned how all work is noble whether tedious or not. He encourages us to perform our work “heartily, as unto the Lord rather than for men” for He sees all and will reward our work done for Him, “for it is the Lord Christ whom I serve” (Col. 3:24, NASB). This promise transformed my attitude toward monotonous labor and freed me from complaining.

Up until my early 40’s, I had been plagued with a wavering insecurity before God. Confidence and boldness did not describe me, but instead I had this nagging feeling that the Lord barely tolerated me. I knew I was saved because I believed the gospel, but I wondered if in Heaven I would be just a wallflower and God would be stuck with me only because I had the golden ticket of faith.

During that time, the women in our church were studying the epistle of Paul to the Ephesians. The truths I uncovered verse by verse in chapter one alone challenged all my wrong thinking. By following a plan of homework in weekly Bible study, we looked up cross references all over the Old and New Testaments. In doing this, we learned how to uncover the whole counsel of God and its endless treasure of promises throughout.

“In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence.” – Ephesians 3:12 (NIV)

In Ephesians chapter one, I learned that God willingly chose me and placed me in Christ as holy and blameless through the blood of Jesus’ forgiveness. I was not only born again into His family, but also adopted through Jesus according to His good pleasure. I was wholly accepted by Him! God desired to lavish His grace upon me, not just now on earth, but in the ages to come. Forever and ever, He would show me the surpassing riches of His grace with tender kindness (Eph. 2:7). I could never have imagined such an eternal inheritance that awaited me.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.” – Ephesians 1:3 (NIV)

God used His words of truth to transform me from a flickering candle to a beloved child with a burning heart for my Savior, Christ Jesus. Studying Ephesians planted truths into my soul that imparted God’s heart towards me, and the seeds bore fruit that still nourish my faith decades later. I can now say with confidence, “I am my Savior’s darling” (J. Keble).

I continued to struggle with whether to believe every feeling that passed through my mind like a storm-driven black cloud. God’s Word stood fixed and shining bright, enabling me to see the truth clearly. Scripture taught me a realistic view of suffering. Isaiah 53 spoke about the anguish Jesus suffered to die for our sins, and so I eventually learned to dispel the lies that God was greatly displeased with me and that was why He sent more trials into my life.

“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” – Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)

Like Seed Grown on Good Soil, Hearing the Word, Accepting It, and Producing a Crop More Than What Was Sown (Mark 4:20)

So much of personal Bible study is implanting seeds of truth into our hearts that will grow to blossom much later. Often, we might not be in great need of a particular passage of Scripture, but we cultivate its truths deep within, so when the time comes and we find ourselves wilting from the heat, those roots will already be growing deep in order to ground us firmly in hope.

Such was the case in my mid-40’s. I had studied 1 Peter years prior in our weekly women’s study, but the hope I read about was not readily applied until I was diagnosed a third time with re-occurring cancer. After 18 years in remission, I was shocked at the new diagnosis. This time, a massive dose of radiation was ordered by the doctor. My children were now high school and college age, and my pleas were, “Please Lord, let me live to see the fruit of my labors! I want to see them get married, have children, and I want to enter the joys of grandmotherhood!”

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” – 1 Peter 5:7 (NIV)

The first dose did not eradicate all the cancer, so another massive dose was called for by the nuclear medicine doctors. But as I waited months for the results of the treatment, I watched my twin brother die of AIDS and saw my mom and brother go through chemo for their own battles with cancer. The acute turmoil I suffered can hardly be revisited without tears. My joy and peace were nowhere to be found, so I meditated on the verses penned by Peter in his first chapter, trying to comprehend how I was to rejoice in these various trials as he mentions in verse 6.

“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” – 1 Peter 1:6-7 (NIV)

I read his descriptions of fiery trials as being grievous suffering and distressing, causing great heaviness. Such comfort I received affirming the reality of my own experience!

Then I discovered how my joy is based on the truths found in verses 3 through 6, that I have been “born again to a living hope through Jesus’ resurrection, my eternal inheritance is imperishable, reserved in heaven and will never fade away.” I rested my hope fully on the shed blood of Christ to cover me, and that is where I found my promised peace and joy of my salvation once again. I learned the secret to “just lie passive in God’s Hand and know no will but His.” (Plummer).

There are countless times that God used His Word to expand my wavering faith. I found myself “hanging upon Jesus’ every word” (Luke 19:48, NASB) to survive every dark valley I walked through. His promises brought the needed light to take the next step. He nurtures the seeds within my heart to bear fruit a hundredfold. His Word is the life-giving bread that restores my soul and rejoices my heart, just like my twelve grandchildren.

Indeed, the Word made flesh has become my closest Companion.

“From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him. ‘You do not want to leave too, do you?’ Jesus asked the Twelve. Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.'” – John 6:66-68 (NIV)