The Great God of the Great Commission

The Great God

“…for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst…” I love this description of God in Hosea 11:9 because it helps us see two things at the same time. God is the Holy One: He is the awesome God. He is perfect. He is unique, unchangeable, and his love and glory shine brightly into our world. In a nutshell, God is the Holy One. And this God is the one who is “in your midst.” He is incomparable, and yet he is near. He is close. He is present. He speaks. He has made a covenant of love with us. He will never leave us nor forsake us. 

The Great Commission

I’m taken back to this description when I read the “Great Commission.” After Jesus rises from the dead, and right before he ascends into heaven, he gives his followers a command: “make disciples.” This is not a suggestion but an imperative. If you follow Jesus, you are called to “make disciples.” The command was given to his closest disciples, the 12 who followed him on earth. But the commission trickles down to every believer and every local church. Our purpose, our mission, is not something we invent. It is given by Jesus.  

How do we make disciples?

Jesus explains the how behind his command. How do we make disciples? Jesus tells us: by baptizing and teaching. The verse can be translated this way… “make disciples by baptizing… and by teaching…” Discipleship happens when two things happen. People outside of Jesus come to know him. And they are baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Spirit. And then people grow as other believers teach them to obey all that Jesus says.  

The Commission is simple. What do we do Jesus? Go and make disciples. How do we do it Jesus? Baptize them and teach them. Teach them how to live a new way of life. Teach them how to obey and follow me. And it isn’t just taught but caught. Model this new life for them as an example. 

All Authority is Given to Jesus 

So what does this have to do with Hosea 11:9? Well, we can see the what and the how of the Great Commission, but Jesus also gives us the why through two statements that mirror this description of God in Hosea. In Matthew 28:18, Jesus says, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” JESUS IS LORD. He is the Holy One, the risen one. But he’s no distant king. He’s not like the president that I can only see on tv a few times a year. In Matthew 28:20, we get some of the greatest words in the Bible, “And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” The Holy One is in our midst. 

You Have a Purpose

Praise God we have the what, the how, and the why of discipleship. If you are a follower of Jesus, pray about one person this week that you can help to follow Jesus for the remainder of this year. If someone is on your heart, consider asking them to coffee. Or, talk to your pastor, and ask for some advice on how to start an intentional relationship in order to help someone grow. You can be used by God. Elon Musk might build starship rockets. But that doesn’t compare to the privilege and work of building disciples. Jesus takes us and makes us fishers and farmers of men. We sow seeds, we water them. And God grows them into his kingdom. 

One Church, One Body 

(One Church, Part 3)

I remember one morning in college when I suddenly felt a sharp pain under my left arm. At first, I thought I probably pulled a muscle. But deep breaths became more painful throughout the day, so of course the “worst-case-scenarios” started rolling through my mind. By the late afternoon, I decided to call a doctor. I described my symptoms so precisely that he gave me a diagnosis over the phone. “Take an Advil. It’s pleurisy.” Pleurisy is a little inflammation around the lung, and it’s totally harmless. I thought, “how can something so simple affect my whole body so much?”

The Wisdom Tooth Problem

That’s exactly why Paul uses the image of the human body to describe spiritual gifts in the church. The human body is one organism made up of many members and parts. And each little one affects the whole body. He uses the picture of the body to expose two common problems in the church: discouragement and pride. Some members are discouraged because they think their gift (their part on the body) is not as important. Others become arrogant because they think their gift is the most important. Look at 1 Corinthians 12:14-20.

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. 

Paul uses the ear and the foot to symbolize the mindset that says, “I am not useful here.” I call this the “wisdom tooth problem.” What are they even for? Apparently, most of us don’t need them. This is the way that we can feel in the church at times. It’s the problem of low self-worth, loneliness, sadness, disappointment, discouragement. “I only stack chairs.” “I just watch the kids in the back.” “I’m not a teacher, a prophet, a person of wise words.” Paul points to the ear, the foot, to say that God has created you for a purpose and placed you in this body for a reason. We can feel like worthless wisdom teeth at times. But no matter your gift, if you are God’s child, you are an essential piece of God’s family. The body needs you. 

The Brain Problem

The second problem is pride. Look at verses 21-26.

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weak are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

I call pride “the brain problem.” The brain says, “I am the most important body part.” “I am the most important person: self-sufficient, superior, the most-needed.” The main message of the wisdom tooth is “I don’t belong.” The main message of the brain is “I don’t need you.” And this is another lie. God proves the lie by saying the less visible parts of the body are the ones that are more honorable and dignified. If you don’t have a big toe, you’re going to fall. No matter how well you can analyze the court, you won’t be able to run without that toe. If one part is missing, you have a body immobilized. So honor that big toe, and encourage the part they play. 

Mutual honor and kindness towards one another in our local churches can then lead us to crave the final vision of church unity described in verses 25-26: “that there may be no division…all care for one another…suffer together…rejoice together…” What a glorious vision for the local gathering of God’s people. 

One Church, One God 

(One Church, Part 2)

Church Unity Reflects God’s Unity 

Church unity is not a core concern of the church because it’s a trend or fad. Jesus prayed for the church to be one “so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (John 17:21). Unity demonstrates the love of God to the world in a beautiful way. But in the other half of John 17:21, Jesus prays, “that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you…” In 17:11 he prays, “that they may be one, even as we are one.”  

It’s amazing that church unity has a purpose: that the world would believe in Jesus. But it’s no less astounding that church unity also has an origin: the very unity of God. Church unity is from God and for God. Our unity mirrors the life of God – Father, Son, and Spirit in perfect fellowship and harmony. Three divine persons, but one God. This is what the church means when we talk about God as trinity (three in one). We baptize in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:19). And we pursue generous unity in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

The Gifts of the God of Unity 

1 Corinthians 12 is the most thorough chapter in the Bible on Spiritual Gifts. But Paul brings up the topic in the first place because the church was struggling to maintain unity as they used their gifts. Some were arrogant and thought their gifts were superior. Some were depressed and considered their gifts worthless. We’ll look at these twin problems in depth next week. 

For now, I want to point out that Paul and Jesus are completely on the same page about one crucial reality: the unity of the church is grounded on the unity of God. Before Paul can launch into what Spiritual Gifts even are, and before he can challenge the prideful and comfort the discouraged, he points out that many gifts come from one God – Father, Son, and Spirit. 

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. –1 Corinthians 12:4-7  

There are varieties of gifts, services, and activities. But who gives them? The same Spirit, the same Lord, and the same God. The Spirit refers to the Holy Spirit. Almost always in the New Testament, the Lord refers to Jesus Christ. And God often refers the Father. Our church is full of people with diverse gifts, strengths, and talents. And yet it is the one God who empowers each one. God the Trinity pours out gifts on us, so that we can reflect back his unity as we use them. 

When you see a fellow Christian at church, don’t just notice whatever blessing they bring to the table. Pause and pray a quick prayer of thanks to God. Thank you Father for them and for their gifts. Help me to love them and appreciate them, so that I will be one with them like the Father and Son are united in love. Help me to reflect you. Amen.  

See my original post below

Copy of One Church

One Church, One People

(One Church, Part 1)

Ask a handful of people on the street what they think of the church, and while I’m sure you would hear an array of answers, at least a few would lament or mock the divisiveness of the church. If it’s true, it’s a tragedy, considering Jesus prayed for his disciples to be “one,” and not just for the sake of unity, but “so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (John 17:21). Even in the ancient creeds, we confess, “I believe in one…church.” Unity presents the gospel to the world with incomparable splendor. 

Aside from a deeper dive into John 17 or a proof text like Ephesians 4:4 that simply says, “there is one body,” Peter paints three pictures of the churches’ identity (1 Peter 2:4-12) that can offer us helpful reflections on church unity. Seeing what the whole church is, can give us a map for seeing each local congregation for what it is.

God’s House

4 As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, 5 you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 

First, Peter addresses the churches’ relationship to Jesus. He paints them a picture of a house. Jesus is the living stone (singular), the cornerstone, the foundation stone, the most important stone! He makes the church what it is. The church is what it is because it is united to Jesus. The image of the house highlights this connection between Jesus (the foundation stone) and his church (the stones). This is what the church is. Then he tells us what the church is for. We aren’t just built up into a house to look nice. God doesn’t take raggedy stone houses and flip them for a profit. The reason he calls us a house is because we become the dwelling place of God. Not only are individual Christians filled with the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19), but so is the church as a whole (Ephesians 2:22).

God’s People

9 But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10 Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

The apostle goes on to quote Exodus 19 and Hosea 2 to prove to the people that they are not just a religious social club, but the chosen and beloved people of God. In Exodus 19, God rescues Israel. They cross the Red Sea. Their slaveholders are drowned, and God sets them safely on a mountain. Israel was adopted as the family of God, saved by his holy love. Peter declares the same identity over the church, the new covenant people of God who share that gracious history.

And then Peter quotes Hosea 2. Israel was not just a beloved child of God, but they were a rebellious child. Their priests robbed temples. Their kings set up idols. So they went into national exile under divine punishment, but God offsets his own punishment with abundant grace. And the message for God’s beloved Israel in Hosea is recounted in 1 Peter and declared over the church itself. The church is the people of God and the recipient of God’s mercy. 

God’s Travelers 

11 Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. 12 Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation.

Name some common images of the church that come to mind: social club, community service center, choir cult. But what does God say? My spiritual house, my chosen people, my beloved sojourners to the heavenly city. 

If this is true, how can this help build unity between various congregations? We can begin to see each other differently. We can see the church down the street differently. If the church down the street has abandoned the faith or doesn’t preach the Bible, that’s a different issue. But true Christ-following churches, we will see with new eyes. No longer will I see the First Church of Somewhere. No longer will I see the church that has the bigger budget or the nicer facilities that I envy. Now I see God’s spiritual house, God’s chosen people, God’s beloved fellow-travelers.

“Here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Hebrews 13:14). We journey onward, and we live out our calling along the way, as God’s people. We do good to our neighbors and our neighboring churches. We pray they would know the God of grace and give him glory.

See my original post below

One Church

The Seven Last Words of Jesus

The culmination of Holy Week leads us to the final three days of Jesus, beginning at sundown on Thursday and concluding at sundown on Easter Sunday. Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Morning are the major players. The crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus form the heart of our meditations. 

If you hover above the gospel of Luke, you’ll look down and see Luke make some variation of this statement over and over again: “he set his face to go toward Jerusalem,” “he was on his way to Jerusalem,” “he was going up to Jerusalem,” etc. The structure of Luke’s gospel is formed around Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. And in chapter 9, he tells his disciples why they’re on the road to the holy city: “The Son of Man must suffer many things…and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Lk 9:22). 

Some look at Jesus and see a great man. He’s crafty and creative with his parables and he’s good with children. Who wouldn’t like him? But those who only see a nice man and a great teacher can only see in the cross a tragedy. Yet Luke leaves no room for doubt. Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem to die. And the whole gospel takes us with him as he walks to the cross. 

So the question is WHY? Why did he come to die? You could spend a lifetime searching the Scriptures to answer that question. And it would be a well-spent life. But the whole storyline of the Bible and the great doctrines of sacrifice, substitution, forgiveness, divine wrath and love and compassion are pithily summed up in Jesus’ last 7 sayings as he hangs on the tree. 

The Cross is About God

Both Matthew and Mark only record one thing that Jesus says. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Matt 27:46; Mk 15:34). Jesus is quoting Psalm 22:1. He’s in despair, exile, darkness, the valley of the shadow of death. He feels the crushing weight of sin. He is dying as a sacrifice in our place. He’s bearing the wrath of God in our place. And it was the decision of God. It takes us back to Isaiah 53. “It was the will of the Lord to crush him.” 

Now, we do not believe that the Father had uncontrollable anger that he decided to take out on Jesus. Rather, God the Father, Son, and Spirit together in their holiness, and goodness, and justice would not leave sin unpunished. They would not sweep it under the rug. So the Triune God determined that the Son would come, take on human flesh, to live as fully God and fully man, and to die as a substitute for us. He willingly laid down his life and felt the crushing weight of divine wrath against our sin, corruption, and brokenness. The Triune God’s punishment of sin, grounded in his perfection and justice, fell on Jesus, the willing Lamb. 

And yet, behind the justice and holiness of God is love. In order that God might lavish mercy, grace, and forgiveness upon us while maintaining his justice, the cross was necessary. Yet why did God desire to lavish that mercy, grace, and forgiveness? Sheer love. No one twisted the arm of God. “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us…” (Eph 2:4). “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son” (Jn 3:16). The unforced love of God determined to make a way for sinners to become the bride of Christ. Mercy and forgiveness would make a bride fit for the Son. And justice would be upheld through the substitutionary sacrifice of the infinitely perfect Lamb of God. God’s burning wrath and righteous anger against sin, mercy towards sinners, love for his creation, and perfection in justice and holiness all collide at the cross. Justice was upheld while mercy was freely given.

The Cross is for Sinners

Luke records three more sayings of Jesus on the cross. The first one, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34). So we see that even as Jesus feels the weight of divine wrath, he is also still in perfect communion with his Father. He prays. He looks down from that cross, and he sees poor wretched sinners. Father, forgive them. The selfless love, compassion, and mercy of Jesus are on inconceivable display. He prays for his enemies.

On the left side of Jesus, and on the right, two criminals hang on their own crosses, who actually deserve to die, unlike Jesus. One of them believes in Jesus. He believes that Jesus is a king, ready to inherit his kingdom. So he turns to Jesus with his dying breath and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Lk 23:42). 

Jesus responds, “Truly, I say unto you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Lk 23:43). Jesus’ general prayer that God will forgive the sinners around him is answered in his specific encounter with the thief. And what comfort to know that Jesus saves those who cry out to him, any time, any where, at any stage of life, even to their dying breath. 

The final word of Jesus in Luke, “Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit” (Lk 23:46). Jesus quotes Psalm 31. He fulfills the Scriptures. He dies in the hands of his Father. We see another glimpse into the unity of Father and Son. The cross was their plan, and it was for our salvation. Jesus dies in the unfailing grip of his Father-Shepherd. 

The Cross Reveals the Heart of Jesus

So we turn to John. Jesus looked down and saw his mother and his beloved disciple. And he said, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” (Jn 19:26-27). Even while Jesus is hanging on the cross dying, he is caring for his friends and family. Again we see the total selflessness of Jesus even as he dies. He left us an example of unmatchable love in both his life and his death.

Then he says, “I thirst” (Jn 19:28). They filled a sponge with vinegar wine and lifted it to his lips. The same pattern was prophesied in Psalm 69. Jesus fulfills the Scriptures. He is the Messiah-Savior that all the prophecies pointed to. We’re reminded as well of the humanity of Jesus. His thirst in death reveals the desperation he experienced in dying as a man. He assumed our human flesh that he might suffer and die and so sympathize with our every weakness and anguish.

The last words of Jesus, “it is finished” (Jn 19:30). The mission of the Son is finished. He came for us and for our salvation. Take these seven words together and see the tapestry of heaven’s grace, angel’s food for our nourishment on this Holy Saturday. He came to die for the sins of the world, to bear the wrath and forsakenness of God in our place as our substitute, to demonstrate his amazing love and grace, his mercy and compassion, and to leave us an example, to take up our crosses and follow behind him who dies praying for his enemies. Because he has made atonement and saved us by grace through faith, like that thief beside him, and because he has died in our place, like Barabbas who goes free, we are freed from guilt and given confidence to walk in his steps. Sit beneath Jesus on the cross and feast on the words from his mouth. 

Lament on the Move

2020 has proved to be a year of shadows and darkness; sinfulness, suffering, and spiritual attack through natural disaster, human injustice, and human sinfulness. Just a few weeks after we learned of an elderly couple from Chicago quarantined off as the first case in Chicago of a strange new virus started in Wuhan China, the whole city began to shut down because of the virus’ rapid, deadly spread.

Just days after the videos went viral of the murder of George Floyd, our own Chicago erupted like a volcano. “I can’t breathe” has become commonplace across the last decade and resounds again in our ears.

Coronavirus reminds us of the thorns and thistles of a cursed creation, the reality that sickness and death have plagued us since the original rebellion. The national outcry reminds us of racism, injustice, insecurity, misrepresentation, division, disunity, vandalism, and violence, provoked by the human heart; again, since the original rebellion.

“There is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9).

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9).

Perhaps you feel like you haven’t lost your lantern, but you are in the dark, and you can’t seem to find the match to light the wick.    

Enter Lament.

If “gospel-centered” was the Christian buzz word 10 years ago, “lament” is that word right now. We are told to lament. And we should (just like we should certainly be “gospel-centered”). But what does lament mean?

Google lament and you read: “a passionate expression of grief or sorrow.” As Christians, we remember that short book in the Bible called Lamentations.

Lament is what we call the prayer of the one desperately crying out to God in the midst of sorrow, suffering, pain, oppression, and darkness. The Lament Psalms for example, are cries of the heart to God, a broken spirit ascending like incense before our heavenly father (Revelation 5:8). They are expressions of beat up people who just wish that God would intervene, deliver the suffering, judge the wicked, and establish righteousness. It may even shock our happy-go-lucky spirituality to learn that over a third of the Psalms are actually lament (that means more than 50 Psalms!).

Theologian Federico Villanueva defines the Lament Psalms this way: “they are depictions of the psalmists’ experience of suffering.”[i] Pastor Mark Vroegop in Indianapolis says this about the lament Psalms: “The Bible gave voice to my pain.” He goes on to say: “I discovered a minor-key language for my suffering: lament.”[ii] The Bible not only tells us why we suffer in this life, but also gives us prayers to pray when our hearts are troubled and burdened beyond relief. The Lament Psalms are the churches’ voice of corporate grief.

The Lament Psalms take us somewhere. They are on the move. And the movement often looks something like this: 1) the sufferer complains about his situation and cries out desperately to God; 2) the sufferer ends by resolving to trust again in God’s steadfast love. It’s a movement from lament to praise, from sorrow to resolve. Psalm 13 is the classic example of this movement from lament to praise.

But the movement from lament to praise is not the whole story. While the Lament Psalms are always on the move, they do not always move in the same direction.

In fact, it may shock us to learn how diverse these Psalms are in their movements.

Consider a few examples:

1) From Lament to Praise: as mentioned above, this is what most people think of when they think of the Lament Psalms. Read Psalm 13. This movement teaches us that God hears our prayers, he answers, he delivers, and he strengthens. God is our rock. And we turn our eyes upon him in our pain and grief.

2) From Lament to Praise to Lament: some Psalms start with the cry of lament, then move to praise, then return again to lament, as if there is more to the story that is left a bit unresolved. Read Psalm 12. This movement teaches us that not all things are quickly resolved. Faith is often more like a journey deeper into Scripture, prayer, and the presence of God that involves ongoing struggle than a quick shift from pain to joy.

3) The Alternation between Praise and Lament: some Psalms look less like a train and more like a ferris wheel. Read Psalm 31. This Psalm moves from praise to lament to praise to lament.  The alternation again reminds us that the Christian life is an ongoing process and struggle towards deeper faith and holiness. Viewing life through this lens keeps us grounded in the sure hope that God is with us even when we feel like we are on that ferris wheel of sorrow. As Paul said: “we are perplexed, but not driven to despair.”

4) The Absence of Movement: there is one Psalm that seems stagnant. There is little defined movement. This is Psalm 88. Biblical Counselor David Powlison has called it the “basement of the Psalms.” Old Testament Scholar Dennis Magary has called it the “darkest corner of the Psalter.” The last word of the Psalm is “darkness.” This Psalm is the voice of the one who is indeed driven to despair. In the moments of life when we feel we cannot say, “not driven to despair,” the Bible even gives us words for that. This is the dark night before the dawn.

The Lament Psalms are as diverse as life’s difficulties. The one thing they all have in common? They are all conversation with the living God. Even Psalm 88, the darkest lament. It may not move to joyful resolution. But the prayer is a direct address to the Lord. “I, O Lord, cry to you; in the morning my prayer comes before you” (88:13). There is no lament that is not addressed to the Lord.

How does this all connect back down to your life? When you feel alone; when you fear coronavirus, or more certainly, death; when you taste oppression, violence, misrepresentation; when you feel heavy next to a wayward spouse or apart from a wayward child; when your coworkers or friends betray you secretly and you find out; when they betray you publicly and you wish you could un-find out… on and on the list could go. In those moments, in the sufferings of life, where do you go? What do you do? What is the instinct of your heart?

Maybe, with some time and practice, the instinct of your heart will eventually be to voice a line from a Psalm. Maybe your instinct will become self-control – waiting until you are alone with the Lord to voice anger and despair and to find solace in his words given for you. Maybe your instinct will become matching your vocal chords with the vocal chords of David, the church, and ultimately Jesus, who cried out in lament to a listening God.

Do you remember Jesus’ final words? They come from Psalm 22, the lament of laments. The lament of the cross.

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). This is Jesus’ charge. But it doesn’t mean we turn off our emotions as we carry the cross. It means we turn them on with the guidance of his Word, with the voice of Scripture.

He teaches us to pray.

2020 is a dark year. It is a battleground, a wasteland, a testing of faith.

2020 is a dark year. Perhaps it will teach us to pray. Perhaps it will prove to be the dark before the dawn.

                [i] Federico Villanueva, “Preaching Lament” in Reclaiming the Old Testament for Christian Preaching (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2010), 66. Villanueva is also responsible for helping me see the diverse movements of the Lament Psalms.

                [ii] Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2019), 17. 

Anxious for Nothing?

10 Practical Ways Philippians 4 Promotes Peace During Crisis

“Do not be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6). What do these words mean, and how on earth do they apply during a global pandemic? For the past month we’ve been forced to face these kinds of questions. Fear cripples our faith, plunders our bodies, and takes captive our minds. And Paul simply says, “do not be anxious.” Really? What do we do with that?

Philippians 4:6 is a clear, black-and-white command. But the beauty of Philippians 4:6 is that it is not alone. Paul does not leave town after saying, “Do not be anxious about anything,” and assume that we will know exactly what to do. He offers at least 10 ways right here in chapter 4 to walk with faith over fear. Keep looking at the book and you’ll discover more treasure buried beneath surface level readings of clear yet complexly glorious texts.  

1) Stand firm (4:1). Heed your call. Hop up off the spiritual couch. Initiate active warfare against the lies of the enemy and walk in the words of Jesus: “stay awake” (Luke 12:37).

2) Labor for Christ in unified community (4:2). Division breeds hostility and thus anxiety. Jesus prayed for our peace with one another (John 17:20-21). A loving, godly pursuit of peace with others will set the stage for a growing love that casts out fear (1 John 4:18).

3) Rejoice in the Lord (4:4). Can emotions be commanded? It appears so, to some degree. Paul could say in other places that he was “sorrowful yet always rejoicing” (2 Corinthians 6:10). Joy may not always entail the absence of sorrow. Grief is a godly response to a broken world. So joy runs deeper than a shallow happiness. It flows from a heart set on one thing: the beauty of the Lord (Psalm 27:4). What’s commanded is that Christ would be your ultimate treasure, your deepest joy.

4) Be gentle (4:5). Perhaps your translation says “reasonableness” or “moderation.” The word means “gentleness” or “patience.” It’s the characteristic in contrast to violence in 1 Timothy 3:3. Again, it points us to the pursuit of peace.

5) Acknowledge God’s Presence (4:5). This is not a command but a reality. It’s simple truth: “the Lord is near.” There are thousands of words in Scripture for anxious people. And the command “to not fear” is one of the only commands that almost never comes with a warning. Instead, it almost always comes with a promise: the reality of God’s presence.[i] “I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Psalm 23:4).

6) Pray (4:6). The Psalmist says, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3). He doesn’t say if, but when. Anxious concern is a given in a broken world. What matters most is what we do with our fears when they come. Throughout the Psalms, honest confession of fear is processed through prayer, the voice of faith. The Psalmist doesn’t escape life’s difficulties by turning to ice cream, pornography, Facebook, or Fox News. He escapes to God his refuge in simple prayer (Psalm 18:1-2).

7) Be thankful (4:6). Gratitude is a direct attack against anxiety. Two practical suggestions: 1) Make a list. Write out three or four things that you are especially grateful for. Anxiety flares when we demand what we are not given. We can certainly ask God for things. This verse tells us to! But our asking in faith ought to flow from contentment for the blessings our giving God has already granted. 2) Don’t just thank God for good things, but even for hard things. I needed a simple way to practice, so I tried in traffic. I hate traffic. It exposes my angry heart. So I pray: “God, thank you for traffic,” because it forces a chance for me to walk in patience.

8) Understand the gift of the peace of God (4:7). God’s peace is the opposite of negative anxiety. Certainly, there’s a godly anxiety in the Bible.[ii] Paul himself has “anxiety for all the churches” (2 Corinthians 11:28).  Intense concern for others is a mark of love, even if it mimics anxiety on the surface. It turns negative when it departs from the “peace of God.”[iii]

9) Guard your mind by thinking intentionally on what is good (4:8). Much of our anxiety is fueled as we dwell on predicted and proposed negative possibilities. Ed Welch says that an anxious person is simply a false prophet: someone who predicts a bleak future without accounting for the grace that God will give you when you encounter that future.[iv] So what do we do? We meditate instead on what is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, worthy of praise.

10) Imitate godly people (4:9). If you want to see faith and contentment in action, watch people who are doing it well. For me it’s my parents and grandparents, a mentor from high school, my current pastor. Who is it for you? Paul gives himself as a prime example.

And finally, there’s one more thing to see. Paul’s reasoning is gloriously logical and practical. But God gives even more! In Philippians 4:10-13, these logical principles are illustrated through story, through a specific, zoomed-in view of Paul’s own life and biography. We see peace, faith, and contentment at work in Paul in very specific circumstances of suffering. And he gives us the secret to facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. The secret to contentment: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” This promise is not simply a motto to plaster on your football helmet. This is rock-solid hope in the face of deep suffering. Here is a man with a heart set on one thing. Here are the possibilities for your life as well. What a gift.

                [i] David Powlison. Safe & Sound: Standing Firm in Spiritual Battles (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2019), 51. 

                [ii] J. Alasdair Groves & Winston T. Smith. Untangling Emotions (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2019), 160.  

                [iii] See John Piper. “Philippians 4:4-7, Part 4: Is Any Christian Anxiety Good?” in his Podcast series, Look at the Book. 

                [iv] Edward T. Welch. When I Am Afraid: A Step-By-Step Guide Away from Fear and Anxiety (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2010), 8.

Can Eschatology Really Be Practical?

Practical Eschatology. Have you ever put those two words together? On the one hand, you may be wondering what “eschatology” even means. Even if you know, you’ve likely never thought about it being overly practical for your life. Eschatology is a fancy theological word that refers to the study of… the end times, the last things, the destiny of the world, and life after death. The word pairs together the Greek eschatos, “last,” with logos, “word/study.” How could such ethereal speculations ever be of any use to our lives today?

In his Mere Christianity radio talks, C.S. Lewis said, “If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next…precisely because their minds were occupied with heaven.”

How can we occupy our minds with heaven in such a way that truly does good for our neighbors, our churches, the world, and our own lives? 

1 Thessalonians 4 and 5 in the Bible can help us. These two chapters have “practical eschatology” written all over them. Paul answers two very down-to-earth, human questions that show how a deep understanding of the life to come inspires hope, frees us from fear, and increases our love for others.

1) How do we hope amidst grief and loss? (4:13-18)

Paul’s friends in Thessalonica were grieving the death of their loved ones. He speaks directly into their sorrow, “But we do not want you to be uniformed brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (4:13).

Here we see a passion for careful, theological teaching for a direct, practical purpose. Teaching about the life to come provides hope for today in a way that shapes even our deepest griefs. The Bible is not a systematic theology textbook. It is practical theology, lived theology. Paul knows this. So he doesn’t want them to be “uninformed.” But the information he supplies is not for test scores. It’s for their comfort in the midst of loss.

Timely biblical information is for the sake of consolation. His purpose is clear. He cares deeply. So he dives into the very content of the gospel. “For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep” (4:14). Faith unites us to Jesus. And union with Jesus means that we too will be raised. The vision is comprehensive, and the details are attractive (4:14-17). The ultimate implication is that “we will always be with the Lord” (4:17).

And building on the purpose for and content of eschatological reflection is the command to love your neighbor with these words of life. “Therefore encourage one another with these words” (4:18). Biblical hope gets useful when it means I don’t keep it to myself in my studio apartment ivory tower. I take it to my neighbor. There’s no clear “do-it-this-way” approach written into the text. There are a thousand ways I can take this simple message of hope to Dave down the hall, or Grandma on the phone, or my wife when we’re out for coffee. Lewis gets Paul right. When our hearts are set on the glory to come, we overflow with compassion for the world around us. May we not horde the hope we have but happily distribute it as the Lord gives us opportunity.

How do we hope amidst grief and loss? We take to heart this comprehensive vision of the life to come which inspires a hope that may not replace but certainly informs our grief.

2) How do we not fear judgment? (5:1-11)

The second question Paul addresses concerns the fear of judgment. Paul claims that while the world around us speaks of “peace and security,” the Lord will come like a thief in the night. The image includes judgment that sinners will not escape.

So what hope does the follower of Jesus have? We are freed from the fear of judgment because of our present identity in Christ, the fruitful lifestyle that accords with that identity, and a future hope that is again grounded on the gospel.

Identity in Christ

“But you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness” (5:5).

Paul tells you who you are. Our present identity in Christ assures us that the coming day of the Lord will be no surprise. Walking in the light provides a peace that surpasses fear of death and judgment. As we walk in the light, our fear of the unknown gives way to a confident faith in what is known – namely, that we belong to Jesus. We are children of God.

An Active Life of Love

Who we are gives way to what we do. Identities are not merely meant to be acknowledged, but lived. “So then, let us not sleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober-minded…having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation” (5:6-8).

If we are children of light by grace, let us walk as children of light. If we have such a hope as sons and daughters of the king, let us reflect his image to the world by staying awake. There’s no room for a casual laziness and passivity in Christ’s kingdom. He takes what once was self-enclosed and teaches us how to live the life of love that flows from the heart of faith and hope.

Our Future Hope

And ultimately, courage flows from the direct promise of God. “For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ” (5:9). Could there be sweeter words?

Union with Jesus through faith assures us that we will inherit the very same glory that he inherited by rising from the dead. This hope is purchased for us through his cross, for he is the one “who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him” (5:10).

The final plea repeats the command we saw in 4:18. “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing” (5:11). Truth written on the heart bubbles over into a love for your neighbor.

Why not pick one person this week, just one, and encourage them with the hope they can have in Jesus Christ. Eschatology isn’t mere speculation about which angels will play which harps on which clouds. No. Eschatology hits the questions that leak from our hearts day and night, and that seek answers often in all the wrong places. How we grieve, what we fear; these are realities addressed by the grand story of Scripture.

No matter the grief of loss that crashes over you like a wave; no matter the fear that makes you feel like you’re curled up in a cage; the throne of grace is open for you.

If we dive beneath the surface emotions and ask why we grieve, why we fear, we often find either a sense of hopelessness or a sense of judgment. But Jesus died to purchase a hope and a freedom beyond our wildest dreams. He is the answer to our deepest dilemmas.

“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16).

The Good Gardener

Jesus does his work in the garden. He comes to us and tends us as if we were his own very special planting. He made us and cultivates us for himself. He pulls up old weeds and lifts each drooping head as he passes by.

The disciples of Jesus were in the throes of the darkest three days of their lives. They had left literally everything to follow a warrior-king-Messiah who was now dead. Their knees buckled under the table as they sat silently staring at each other, waiting for a Roman soldier to come drag them off to court. Little did they know that Jesus was alive, yet he was not in a hurry. Instead of running to embrace his dearest friends and quickly draw them out of their suffering, he was patiently waiting to lift the head of one person, the one right in front of him.

Adam, the first man, was made to be a gardener. His failure was found in his negligence. His downfall was not the weeds, it was the snake – the ancient serpent himself, the tempter of humanity, the rebel of heaven. He traded the paradise of God for a playdate with a python until it was too late to act with force on God’s command.

So what does Jesus do? He goes back into that dark garden. The night he was betrayed, where was we? Gethsemane. “There was a garden which he and his disciples entered…” (John 18:1). There his friends were both anxious yet sleepy. The night was only beginning. The servant girl asks Peter, “Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?” (18:26). Me? No! No, not me. This garden was terrifying. It was no Sunday stroll. It was the dark night before Good Friday. There were weeds in that garden. And there were snakes. Jesus didn’t go for a picnic. He went to sweat drops of blood.

But he really went to do a man’s business, as the only man who could. He remembered the old, old word of hope he had heard since he was boy. God spoke to the snake and said, “you will strike his heel, and he will crush your head” (Genesis 3:15). Jesus went back to the garden to crush the head of the snake, to restore the paradise of God. I love the opening scene of the Passion of the Christ for this very reason. There’s no snake in Gethsemane in the Gospel accounts. But the scene in the Passion is hitting on this theme that stretches all the way back to Genesis 3:15. And John, in his own more subtle way, is not going to let us miss it. “Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid” (John 19:41).

I need this gardener, this man, this God. I need this snake crusher to address my deepest fears. I need him to bring redemption and renewal, to replace lies with truth, to wash my mind and heart clean with his words, to address me with the full force of his resurrection patience. He does this work in us. He doesn’t rush to his throne. Do you see it?

“‘Woman why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Mary’” (20:11-16). Your name on his lips. He is the good gardener. Your heart in his hands. He is the good gardener. Your vision transformed to see reality, the irony, that he actually is the gardener, and you are the planting of the Lord. What else can we do but run and proclaim, “I have seen the Lord” (20:18).

Read it for yourself, John chapters 18-21, and notice what Jesus does in the garden.

He plants. He waters. He tends. He restores. He renews. He dies in our place. He pays the penalty for our sin. And so he renders the serpent – our accuser – speechless. He is the good gardener. Weeds grow so fast. They cover so much ground. But he is relentless until he’s plucked up every one and restored the planting of the Lord (Isaiah 61:3). It may take time. But he is committed to completing the good work he began in you (Philippians 1:6). Who is Christ but the one who died for your sin, who rose for your restoration, who addresses you with words too wonderful to fathom. Trust him today.