Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 40
March 27, 2016
March 26, 2016
March 24, 2016
Do Not Weep for Jesus
There were a lot of shocking things said and done on Good Friday. This paragraph describes one you may not have considered before.
And as they led him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus. And there followed him a great multitude of people and of women who were mourning and lamenting for him. But turning to them Jesus said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us,’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’ For if they do these things when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?” (Luke 23:26-31).
Jesus could be so unsentimental.
He told those grieving would-be followers to let the dead to go bury their dead (Luke 9:60).
He told the woman who blessed his mother, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” (Luke 11:27-28).
And he told those wondering about the murdered Galileans or about those killed by the tower of Siloam that unless they repented they would likewise perish (Luke 13:1-5).
People today would be outraged by Jesus’ insensitivity. Think about what we see in the paragraph above. There are women following Jesus, weeping and lamenting. For him! And why shouldn’t they? Jesus is a sad sight. He’s been mocked, beaten, scourged, and spat upon. He’s been led away by soldiers to die outside the city. He’s too weak to carry his own beam. He’s about to die on a shameful Roman cross. It is entirely natural that some in the crowd would be moved to tears.
Which is why Jesus’ response is so shocking.
Don’t weep for me.
Come on, Jesus. Can’t you show a little appreciation for the sentiment? At least these women feel sorry for you. At least these woman aren’t spitting upon you. You’d think he’d be grateful for a little moral support. But instead he stops them short: don’t cry for me, daughters of Jerusalem.
There is nothing wrong with their tears, except that they are in the wrong place. Jesus doesn’t stop them from weeping, as if godly people don’t show emotion. He calls them to weep . . . for themselves and for their children.
This is the seventh time he has warned of impending doom for Jerusalem (Luke 11:49-51; 13:6-9; 13:34-35; 19:41-44; 20:16; 21:20-24). Destruction will come upon the Jewish nation in AD 70. The fall of Jerusalem will be so great, Jesus says, it would be better to have no family at all. The sufferers will call on the hills to cover them, to put an end to their miserable lives. This is what will visit those who reject their Messiah.
Jesus finishes his warning with an enigmatic saying: “If they do these things when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?” In essence, it means: “If Jesus is not spared the cruelty of the cross, how will the nation of Israel escape divine judgment?” Don’t cry for the Son of Man doing the Father’s will. Cry for those who will face God’s wrath if they do not repent.
That’s why Jesus says what he says to the women in the crowd. His seeming insensitivity is not the absence of love, but the deepest expression of it. He calls them tenderly “daughters of Jerusalem.” He doesn’t want them to waste tears on what cannot and should not be altered, when they should weep and wail over a rebellion that must be surrendered.
Are you crying the right tears on this mournful day?
Hundreds of people died on a cross. Most suffered in physical torment longer than Jesus. There are ten thousand tragedies happening in this world everyday. Right now, as you read this. They deserve our sympathy and compassion. But pity not the Christ when he calls you to penitence instead.
The point of Good Friday is not to feel sorry for Jesus. Jesus does not need our sympathy. The point is to feel sorry for your sin. For if we don’t, we have good reason to weep. There will be no salvation for those who reject God’s appointed Savior.
Make this Good Friday truly good. Turn your mourning into dancing. Turn your sorrow into joy. Weep for your sin and come to Jesus. He offers you his grace and does not need your tears.
March 23, 2016
Commandment Thursday
Like millions of Christians around the world, we will have a Maundy Thursday service tonight. If you’ve never heard the term, it’s not Monday-Thursday (which always confused me as a kid), but Maundy Thursday, as in Mandatum Thursday. Mandatum is the Latin word for “command” or “mandate”, and the day is called Maundy Thursday because on the night before his death Jesus gave his disciples a new command. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34).
At first it seems strange that Christ would call this a new command. After all, the Old Testament instructed God’s people to love their neighbors and Christ himself summarized the law as love for God and love for others. So what’s new about love? What makes the command new is that because of Jesus’ passion there is a new standard, a new example of love.
There was never any love like the dying love of Jesus. It is tender and sweet (13:33). It serves (13:2-17). It loves even unto death (13:1). Jesus had nothing to gain from us by loving us. There was nothing in us to draw us to him. But he loved us still, while we were yet sinners. At the Last Supper, in the garden, at his betrayal, facing the Jewish leaders, before Pontius Pilate, being scourged, carrying his cross, being nailed to the wood, breathing his dying breath, forsaken by God-he loved us.
To the end.
To death.
Love shone best and brightest at Calvary.
Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy, cast off that I might be brought in, trodden down as an enemy that I might be welcomed as a friend, surrendered to hell’s worst that I might attain heaven’s best, stripped that I might be clothed, wounded that I might be healed, athirst that I might drink, tormented that I might be comforted, made a shame that I might inherit glory, entered darkness that I might have eternal life.My Saviour wept that all tears might be wiped from my eyes, groaned that I might have endless song, endured all pain that I might have unfading health, bore a thorned crown that I might have a glory-diadem, bowed his head that I might uplift mine, experienced reproach that I might receive welcome, closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness, expired that I might for ever live. (The Valley of Vision, “Love Lustres at Calvary”)
March 21, 2016
Substitution Is Not a “Theory of the Atonement”
John Stott’s The Cross of Christ is one of those books every Christian should read. While there are parts I don’t agree with (for example, Stott’s treatment of impassibility), the book as a whole is a masterful treatise on the glories of the cross.
In chapter 7, Stott looks at the four principal New Testament images of salvation.
The shrine (propitiation)
The market (redemption)
The court of law (justification)
The home (reconciliation)
This beautiful chapter on “The Salvation of Sinners” ends with a masterful summary of the four images (198-99):
First, each highlights a different aspect of our human need. Propitiation underscores the wrath of God upon us, redemption our captivity to sin, justification our guilt, and reconciliation our enmity against God and alienation from him. These metaphors do not flatter us. They expose the magnitude of our need.
Second, all four images emphasize that the saving initiative was taken by God in his love. It is he who has propitiated his own wrath, redeemed us from our miserable bondage, declared us righteous in his sight and reconciled us to himself.
Stott shows that texts like 1 John 4:10; Luke 1:68; Rom. 8:33; and 2 Cor. 5:18 teach this precious truth.
Third, all four images plainly teach that God’s saving work was achieved through the bloodshedding, that is, the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ.
Again, Stott reminds us of the most important texts that make this point: Rom. 3:25; Eph. 1:7; Rom. 5:9; Eph. 2:13; Col. 1:20.
The chapter concludes with a much needed word for our day. Everyone who marginalizes penal substitution by calling it a “theory,” everyone who minimizes this doctrine by making it just one aspect of the atonement, everyone who shies away from this teaching in a misguided effort to rescue the love of God, everyone who undermines this essential truth by refusing to declare it confidently in plain, unambiguous terms, should pay careful attention to this concluding paragraph:
So substitution is not a “theory of the atonement.” Nor is it even an additional image to take its place as an option alongside the others. It is rather the essence of each image and the heart of the atonement itself. None of the four images could stand without it. I am not of course saying that it is necessary to understand, let alone articulate, a substitutionary atonement before one can be saved. Yet the responsibility of Christian teachers, preachers and other witnesses is to seek grace to expound it with clarity and conviction. For the better people understand the glory of the divine substitution, the easier it will be for them to trust in the Substitute.
Is there more than one thing to say about the atonement? Absolutely. Are there a variety of implications and applications that can be drawn from the cross of Christ? Of course. But none of them make sense if Christ did not die in our place to assuage the wrath of God. Penal substitition is not a theory–one suggested idea that may or may not be true. Penal substitutionary atonement is the hope of sinners, the heart of the gospel, and the good news without which all other news regarding the cross is null and void.
March 20, 2016
Who Crucified Jesus?
Martyn Lloyd-Jones with a powerful statement on the cross as divine purpose, not redemptive afterthought:
March 17, 2016
30 Thoughts on Our 50 Days Overseas
From January 25-March 13, my family had the unique opportunity to live (if 7 weeks counts as “living” instead of “visiting”) in another country. Home base was London, but as a family we spent time in Leicester (1 day), Oxford (2 days), Cambridge (3 days), and Edinburgh (7 days). I also traveled to Leyland (Lancashire County), Haywards Heath (Sussex County), Nottingham, Birmingham, Belfast, and Hamburg (Germany).
As I feared, with 38 sermons, 17 panels, and 6 children, I got very little work done on my dissertation, but we did manage to see a lot of great sites, including: London Bridge, Tower Bridge, the Shard, the Gherkin, the Cheesegrater, the Tower of London, Parliament (a personal tour), Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, Piccadilly Circus, Hamley’s Toy Store (three times!), the changing of the guard, the British Museum, the Science Museum, the Natural History Museum, St. Paul’s Cathedral, a walk through Oxford, a tour of Cambridge, Warwick Castle, Edinburgh Castle, The Elephant House (where the first Harry Potter book was written), Greyfriars, St. Giles, St. Columba’s, St. Mary’s, St. Helen’s, Dickens’ church, C.S. Lewis’s boyhood church, and a number of other churches I found more interesting than my children (I should clarify: more interesting than my children found them, not more interesting than I find my children).
So what else? Well, here are a 30 quick thoughts (trust me, they won’t take long).
1. The body of Christ is wonderful. No matter where you are in the world, when you walk into a good, gospel church, you enter a sweet and familiar culture.
2. No one does fast food like America. Sure, they have McDonald’s, Burger King, and KFC. But for fast food that is cheap, easy, and fast, there’s no place like home.
3. Speaking of which, I asked my kids halfway through the trip what store/restaurant they would most like right next to our place in London. They said Little Caesar’s. I agreed. A five dollar Hot N Ready would have been a welcome sight.
4. Oh my, is London expensive. Anytime we sat down to eat somewhere, it was easily $100 for our family. Groceries, gas, housing, land–everything is cheaper in the States, especially in places like Lansing, Michigan.
5. It’s surprising the little things you miss. I couldn’t find root beer anywhere. Ditto for deep dish pizza and good tortilla chips. And Brits don’t do sweets for breakfast. What’s wrong with waffles and maple syrup?
6. Which reminds me: if you’ve ever been to an American summer picnic with rich sausages, potatoes, and heaping piles of baked beans and thought “You know what, this would be perfect immediately after waking up in the morning,” then England is the place for you.
7. I’m a terribly picky eater anyway, so people have asked, “Was there any food in the UK you really liked?” Yes. They have some great cookies (er, biscuits). I had a delicious beef stew in Northern Ireland. And I’m now a fan of banoffee pie.
8. If I was single or married without children, living in a big city like London would be great fun. So much to do and see. So easy to get around without a car. Life is more challenging when you have a gaggle of loud, American children.
9. We were a bit of a freak show. I remember my daughter saying, “Why do they keep staring?” But that was the exception. Even if the presence of six kids was invariably shocking to people, most folks were accommodating, helpful, and curious in a friendly way.
10. I don’t know if public transportation will ever work to the same extent in America (we love our cars), but it works in the UK–very well in my experience. Once you get the hang of it, the country is easily traversable by bus, by Tube, and by train. I’m sure Brits have their stories to tell, but in our 7 weeks, everything was always on time and always dependable. And it still amazes me how little security rigmarole there is getting on and off.
11. For better and worse, I think the preaching in England allows for much less of the man’s personality to come through.
12. I found the preaching to be more reliably expository (I’m comparing reformedish evangelicals in both countries). We talk a lot about expository preaching, but I’m not sure that across the board we’ve been trained to do it very well.
13. I was often told I have a British sense of humor. I took that as a compliment.
14. Even among the Brits, however, there are differences in the humor. The Englishman makes fun of himself, the Irish make fun of each other, and the Scots make fun of the English.
15. Everywhere I went I asked people what they thought of the UK referendum to leave the EU. I found the opinions to be evenly split. If I had to guess, I’d say Brexit happens. I’ll be sure to pray for June 23 (which happens to be my birthday).
16. Everywhere I went–and I mean every single place I visited–people asked me about Donald Trump. They are laughing at us, folks, not with us.
17. Our hosts could not have been more welcoming. Our kids will always remember Mr. William and Mrs. Janet. Thank you!
18. Shrinking our living space down to 700 square feet was much more of a challenge for the parents than for the children.
19. Feel free to write me off as hopelessly American and too worldly, but churches in the UK (especially non-state churches) do not pay their pastors enough.
20. Almost everywhere you look in London, you’ll find a beautiful building, a piece of very old history, a stunning work of art or architecture, and a Pret a Manger. (“Why are there so many Pret Managers?!” my kids often asked.)
21. America is so young and has so much space.
22. And faster and more reliable wifi. That’s what Lee Greenwood is talking about.
23. I was caught once during a conference texting on my phone. This would have been completely normal at a Christian conference in the States. People here are constantly monkeying with their phones while people are singing or someone is preaching. I saw this much, much less in the UK and in Germany. Phones everywhere, but not during a sermon.
24. I think I could get into rugby. Cricket? Sorry, it still seems boring (which, I know, is how you feel about baseball).
25. As a student at the University of Leicester, I feel it is entirely my right to jump on the Leicester City bandwagon. Five points clear with eight games to play.
26. The reformedish evangelicals in the UK are Bible people. Everything is about the Bible–their training, their preaching, their discipleship, their small groups, their internships. I don’t think the fired-up Christian reads as much, and he or she is probably less conversant with systematic theology, but they are constantly in the word.
27. Every time I travel overseas I come home recommitted to writing books. It’s hard to exaggerate the strategic global importance of Christian publishing in the States–the way in which good books do so much good (and bad books can do so much harm).
28. The corporate worship was familiar, but with a few noticeable differences. In the English speaking world, and even in Germany, Christians are singing the Gettys and Sovereign Grace (plus a few homegrown songs I hadn’t heard). The church services I attended were simple and straightforward. There was less fuss about style (which was refreshing), but also less attention to liturgy (perhaps swinging the pendulum a bit too far in the direction of informality). One of my favorite things: there was always a long, thoughtful prayer full of rich (but never pretentious) intercession.
29. What a run along the Thames! I never post workouts online, but I was tempted by the 10k I did which took me past the Globe, past the Millennium Bridge, past The Eye, over the Westminster Bridge (wave to Parliament and Big Ben), down along the north bank, past St. Paul’s, around the Tower of London, over the Tower Bridge, past the Shard, and back home.
30. I saw wonderful gospel work happening across the UK and in Germany. Christians across denominational boundaries are working together (but not ignoring theological distinctives) to plant churches and train workers. The work was sometimes big and obviously impressive, but often small and slow (which makes it even more impressive). It was a blessing to see the word and work in another part of the world. The cultural context may have been different, but the state of lost people is still the same, the gospel is still the same, and the ways in which God uses good leaders, good churches, good preaching, good books, and vibrant prayer is the same there as it is here.
March 14, 2016
Why Did They Hate Jesus?
It is sometimes said that Jesus was killed on account of his inclusion and tolerance, that the Jews hated him for hanging out with sinners and tax collectors. This is the sort of sentiment which has a bit of truth to it, but only a tiny bit. No doubt, Jesus upset many of the Jewish leaders because he extended fellowship and mercy beyond their constricted boundaries. But it is misleading to suggest that Jesus was hated for simply being too doggone loving, as if his inspiring tolerance were the cause of his enemies’ implacable intolerance.
Take Mark’s Gospel, for example (because it’s the one Gospel I’ve preached all the way through). By my reckoning, Jesus is opposed once for eating with sinners (2:16), once for upsetting stereotypes about him in his hometown (6:3), a few times for violating Jewish scruples about the law (2:24; 3:6; 7:5); and several times for “blaspheming” or for claiming too much authority for himself (2:7; 3:22; 11:27-28; 14:53-64; 15:29-32, 39). As Mark’s Gospel unfolds, we see the Jewish leaders increasingly hostile toward Jesus. Although the fear of the crowds stays their hand for awhile, they still try to trap Jesus and plot his destruction (8:11; 11:18; 12:12; 12:13; 14:1: 15:3, 11). There is a lot the Jewish leaders don’t like about Jesus, but their most intense, murderous fury is directed toward him because he believes “I am [the Christ, the Son of the Blessed], and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven” (14:62).
The four Gospels, as we might expect, emphasize different aspects of the Jewish opposition. Luke, for instance, makes more of Jesus’ identification with the society’s cast-offs as an issue for the Jewish leaders, while John makes more of Jesus’ unique status as God’s equal. But the basic outline is consistent in all four accounts. As Jesus’s reputation as a healer and miracle worker spreads, the crowds come to him in larger and larger numbers, prompting the elites to despise him more and more. As a general rule, Jesus was popular with the masses (the exception being in his hometown of Nazareth), and as his popularity increased with the crowds, so did the opposition from the Jewish leaders.
The Jewish leaders disliked, and eventually grew to hate, Jesus for many reasons. Mark 15:3 says the chief priests “accused him of many things.” They were angry with him for upsetting their traditions and some of their scruples about the law. They looked down on him for eating with sinners and associating with those deemed unclean or unworthy. But most of all, they hated Jesus because he claimed to be from God, and as time went on, dared to make himself equal to God.
That’s why they hated him; that’s why the crowds turn on him; that’s why Jesus was put to death. The Jewish leaders could not recognize Christ’s divine authority and identity. Jealousy was no doubt part of it (Matt. 27:18). But deeper than that, they simply did not have the eyes to see or the faith to believe that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the living God. That’s why in all four gospels, when the opposition against him reaches its climax, Jesus is not charged with being too welcoming to outsiders, but with being a false king, a false prophet, and a false Messiah (Matt. 26:57-68; Mark 14:53-65; Luke 22:66-71; and less clearly in John 18:9-24). They killed Jesus because they thought he was a blasphemer.
In the end, it was the implicit and explicit claims Jesus made to authority, Messiahship, and God-ness, not his expansive love, that ultimately did him in. This is not an excuse for our own hard-heartedness or a reason to distance ourselves from today’s “sinners and tax collectors.” We need Jesus’s example to set us straight. But we must put to rest the half-truth (more like a one-eighth truth, really) that Jesus was killed for being too inclusive and too nice. The Jewish leaders may have objected to Jesus’s far-reaching compassion, but they wanted him dead because he thought himself the Christ, the Son of the living God. If Jesus simply loved people too much he might have been ridiculed by some. But without his claims to deity, authority, and the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy, he likely would not have been executed.
So as we approach another Holy Week, let’s certainly talk about the compassion and love of Jesus (how could we not!). But if we don’t talk about his unique identity as the Son of God, we have not explained the reason for his death, and we have not given people reason enough to worship.
March 10, 2016
The Feminism We Don’t Need
Guest Blogger: Rachel Schultz
As a fourth grader, I filled my role as Vice President of our elementary school bank with such a staggering solemnity that my path to becoming the first female President seemed not only viable, but unavoidable. I was ambitious; I cared about women; and I liked being a girl. Which meant I was ready for feminism to creep into my adolescent worldview. I spent most of my spare time as a 14 year old campaigning for pro-feminist politicians and scrutinizing statements made by male public figures.
After converting to Christianity, I began to revisit those basic questions: What exactly do women need to be empowered to do? Am I oppressed for being female? What is femininity? My eyes, which I thought were so wide open and enlightened, looked around to see the pro-women people I stood with held ardently to certain tenets I now called sin. I thought I could ignore the dangerous rationalizations about choice and women’s health, which have come to define this movement’s talking points. But it has become apparent to me that the modern feminist movement ignores some real problems, while fabricating superficial ones. If in listing examples of modern marginalization of women, photoshopping of celebrities is included in the same breath as sex trafficking, then it seems any sense of perspective has been lost. This sisterhood promises freedom, but eschewing submission and promoting abortion leaves women anything but free. As a result, I came to the conclusion that feminism had abandoned me.
Western feminism settles for nothing less than a top to bottom reinventing of marriage, femininity, and motherhood. Honorable endeavors like opposing sex-selective infanticide, pornography, or ritual female genital mutilation are scarcely what occupy the concerns of today’s feminism. The banner of women’s liberation amounts to not much more than an insistence there are no mental, physical, or emotional complications to conjugation with anyone, ever. Strangely, women are both equal to men and better than men. The movement’s definitions are odd and empty and sex somehow has no relation to the babies it conceives. When I read accounts of babies born alive from failed abortions being left on tables to die, I hate what feminism has become.
The maddening part is that there are real ways women are oppressed, but third wave feminism gives those ways a backseat to qualms about media portrayal and invented “microagressions” (which are, by the way, the antithesis of Prov. 19:11). In our current curious culture there is an odd delight in being offended. There is just that weird way about us where we find taking offense empowering. We get to have been wronged and therefore bravely upholding a virtue. We like a force to battle against and joining something bigger than ourselves. The simple existence of different viewpoints assumes oppression. Even Twitter will now let you report a post for being offensive, disrespectful or “in disagreement with my opinion.” Instead, I wish feminist voices would devote their efforts to protesting real injustices. When I hear “equal work for equal pay” or see another post about Hobby Lobby’s war on women, I cannot help but think feminism has done better with selecting slogans than identifying actual problems.
Margaret Sanger’s disciples claim to have freed our gender by opening doors, but many goals in the feminist mindset are not freeing at all. Women are encouraged to grab all they can at no expense—to measure their worth by how much they control their autonomy. Conversely, as Christians, we are to depend on God, not ourselves. True freedom is to be able to not sin. It only comes from Jesus Christ. It is for God to find you pleasing. How could being free possibly include disavowing God’s order and design? If feminism has evolved into different manifestations of trying to buck submission, we must stay away. Trying to take control is running from the treasure of being under headship. Godly forms of authority are instituted for our good and to save us from death. Even with fumbling, imperfect hands, my elder carefully shepherding me is not the enemy. In its right design, entering into all the blessing and provision of marriage is never a prison. A man who is a cruel husband does not necessitate an uprising against men. It necessitates that man’s need to repent.
Christians who help women in hard places or celebrate the many noble and inspiring things women have accomplished might be tempted to identify as a “feminist.” But should that be called feminism? Let’s call it being a Christian. If you are (rightly!) sympathetic to the real problems women face, go ahead and love your female neighbor as yourself, but don’t allow all kinds of wrong thinking to sneak in the back door.
If I could rewrite the feminist narrative it would be this: We are equal in value and dignity before God. We should, along with men, have a spirit of submission before our God. We cannot and should not do everything men do, as we are not the same as men. We should be protected. While only males should be ordained in the church, women can, like men, receive and proclaim Christ’s kingdom. I reject that to support real things to help women means I must embrace abortion on demand and deny biblically sanctioned submission. Christians should be on the front lines of those who champion valuing and protecting women. We do not, however, overlap with the current feminist mantra. That is good. To be a real woman all you have to do is, well, nothing. Because God made you one or he did not. I love being a woman. But even more than I am female, I am in Christ.
March 7, 2016
On Thinking Generationally
Guest Blogger: Danielle Spencer, member at University Reformed Church
Whether I turn on the news, peruse Facebook, or people watch at the park, I can’t avoid the observation that animosity toward the Gospel is spreading. It feels overwhelming and urgently necessary to do something. But what? I don’t want urgency to turn into fretful busywork, but I can use it spur me on in obedience. Even in the midst of dark days, most of us are still called to live a quiet life, to grow in holiness and love, to work hard with our hands, and to be busy at home raising the next generation (1 Thess. 4, Titus 2).
While the Lord is certainly able to change a landscape by storm in an instant, he often works by growing trees over a century. Even if you’re not a parent, if you are stirred to see the truth preserved and the culture converted, investing in children is a vital part of your mission.
In Pastor Kevin style, I have 3 goals to keep in mind as we work with kids:
Love kids as your neighbor
At our church we are blessed with covenant kids popping out from behind every pew and pillar, corralled behind nursery gates, and hiding under the cookie table. They’re loud, busy, sometimes sticky, and they are my friends–my fellow man whose interests I am to consider more significant than my own (Phil. 2). It won’t be long before they are the adults that my husband may elder, that we might counsel in their marriages, and that we will teach to love their own kids. As our bodies age, they’ll carry on the work. We want them to stand on our shoulders with confidence, and not have to start from the ground up. So in the church lobby, once in a while, skip the conversation that might seem more likely to promote your influence, and talk to a child. Listen to their stories, jokes, and what they dreamed about last night. You’ll be investing in the future, and you’ll be surprised by the encouragement, life, and joy you get in return.
Teach kids the Bible
Keep Deuteronomy 6:7 in the front of your mind as you work with children: “You shall teach them [God’s commands] diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” Biblical literacy is at an all-time low in this country. The word of God is hidden under a bushel. Kids are story lovers with a million questions. Answer them with the Bible. Teach them the stories, the systems, the promises, and the prayers of Scripture. Give them Christ colored glasses to make sense of the world they’re trying to figure out. Let them learn from expositional preaching, through regular family worship, and the study of creation. Make the Bible part of your own speech. It was said of John Bunyan that if you pricked him he would bleed Bibline. The world is going to prick our kids. Maybe the next generation could start a transfusion.
Prepare kids to suffer and to serve
Our Christian experience confirms what Adam taught us, that pain and misery follow sin. Greed, sexual immorality, vow-breaking, racism, abortion, entitlement, egalitarianism–I could go on–are increasingly celebrated rather than fought. The result will be misery for many, and misery loves company. As darkness thickens into the next generation our kids’ lights will grow all the more conspicuous. Many will be drawn to them, some with every intention to extinguish. Our kids need to be ready to call persecution for Christ their privilege, to stand firm in the truth of the gospel, and to return good for evil the way Christ has done for us.
But not all will come as adversaries. Some will be drawn to the light to find safety and truth and life. When the Supreme Court ruled last year that states could no longer ban same-sex marriage, I remember John Piper lamenting the tidal wave of pain that will come in the wake of such a decision. I started thinking about how my kids’ peers someday will be confused men raised by 2 dads or women scarred from wars they were drafted into. It doesn’t take special revelation to see a future full of broken people looking for answers and hope. It is our duty not only to this generation but to the next as well, to be ready to give an answer for the hope that we have and to teach our children to do the same.
God took Abraham, one man, and made him into a nation for His own. He takes parents, mentors, and church members of the most everyday sort and grows a kingdom of worshippers for Himself. Charles Spurgeon, a giant in the faith that the Lord has used for the masses, gives credit to the faithful cook at his school:
“The first lessons I ever had in theology were from an old cook . . . She liked something very sweet indeed, good strong Calvinistic doctrine, but she lived strongly as well as fed strongly. Many a time we have gone over the covenant of grace together, and talked of the personal election of the saints, their union to Christ, their final perseverance, and what vital godliness meant; and I do believe that I learnt more from her than I should have learned from any six doctors of divinity of the sort that we have nowadays.”
We don’t even know her name, but many know God’s name through a child she took the time to chat with. So Friend, have patience. Establishing roots is slow, unnoticed work now, but plant and water, God is growing a forest beyond anything we can imagine.
