Jared C. Wilson's Blog, page 64

September 11, 2013

A Better Word

I’m a sufferer of words. When James calls the tongue a fire, I know what in the hell — phrasing intentional — he’s talking about. I think many, many of us do. The fire may go out, but it smolders, sometimes for years and years, the smoke of its torment promising “forever.”


When I was in high school, already well neurotic from my own pronounced innate insecurities and already well battered by careless words from childhood onward, I remember being informed about a survey held by girls in the youth group at a sleepover. Apparently they were assembling in their imaginations “the perfect boy” using the composite parts of the boys in the youth group. I don’t remember whose parts were all highlighted but this adolescent Frankenhottie supposedly had my friend Kyle’s chest and my friend Nicky’s legs. (Who knew girls cared about legs?) It had other boys’ eyes and arms and lips and hair — I recall hair being important — and who knows what else. The person telling me about this exercise then informed me that this imaginary object of desire had my personality.


I know this was meant to be seen as a compliment. But honestly. You know what “he/she has a good personality” is code for. What this news said to this skinny, insecure, pimply-faced kid was this: “There is not a single physical part of you that is attractive. You are entirely ugly.”


Words sting. And bruise. I have trouble to this day remembering encouragement given to me, even though I know I receive it regularly. I even started an email folder called Pick-Me-Ups that I can store kind words in, a place to revisit when I’m being stupid and forgetful to show myself, “See? People say nice things too.” It’s not them; it’s me.


But I don’t think this problem is all that rare. You likely suffer from it too. I can list quite easily the words that still haunt:


“Stuttering wimp.” – female classmate on the playground, 5th grade


“Meet me after school, bolio.” – a bully at the school I attended in the 6th grade, where white students were a distinct minority. (Bolio is Spanish for a kind of white bread, used as slang for basically “white boy.”)


“You know that people can minister through writing too, right?” – a ministerial superior who treated me with passive aggression at some points and caustic third degree interrogation at others, at this point unsubtly suggesting I wasn’t cut out for “real” ministry.


“You weren’t the first choice.” – person in the green room at a speaking engagement ten minutes before I was set to kick off the event


“Misogynist; advocate of rape culture.” – the Interwebs


There are more. Some are too painful to share publicly. Some are too profane. Some are water under the bridge and forgiveness in these instances means not reminding people who may be reading of the pain caused. Some are just none of your business. But there’s lots more, lots worse. And I’m sure for you too.


Some of the painful things said to us are malicious and some are not. Some are true things, some half-true, some not-at-all true. But they all hurt in their own ways, don’t they? And the devil does one thing with these words: he turns them into fear and shame. The devil can turn even constructive criticism into a false accusation.


I know the words of the gospel. The problem is that too often the words of the accuser(s) are on video and the gospel is on audio. And so, like my friend Ray says to do, I stare at the glory of God until I see it. I am weak. If I hear anything long enough I will start to believe it. This works for gospel words too. So I stop listening to myself and start talking to myself, preaching to myself. I am not who They say I am; I am who God says I am, and I don’t have to be an Osteen fanboy to say that and think that. I just have to be a Christian.


Let them come with their words, then. Let the devil come with his barrage of lies, even his truths-turned-lies. I rebuke him. I confound him. I throw Romans 8 at his sniveling little face. I’ve got a pretty good arm for such things, high schools girls’ judgment notwithstanding.


He comes with his wounding, haunting words, and I stand behind my advocate Christ the Lord. He gives me more words, better words, words more permanent than life:


“I will give you rest.” – Matthew 11:28


“You are the apple of my eye.” – from Zechariah 2:8


“I take pleasure in you.” – from Psalm 147:11


“You are more than a conqueror.” – from Romans 8:37


“I am not ashamed to call you my brother.” – from Hebrews 2:11


“I rejoice over you.” – from Zephaniah 3:17


“Hell will not prevail against you.” – from Matthew 16:18


The words like this don’t stop. They go on and on. The Word is full to brimming with good news for me, and the Spirit hammers them into my heart. The words of fear and shame cut deep, but Christ’s blood speaks a better word (Hebrews 12:24).


Be careful little ears what you hear.

The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;

His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,

One little word shall fell him.
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Published on September 11, 2013 08:29

September 9, 2013

How Your Preaching Might Increase Sin in Your Church

For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering . . .

– Romans 8:3


We tread lightly here, but I fear we vastly underestimate the spiritual damage inflicted on our churches by “How To” sermons without an explicit gospel connection. The Bible is full of practical exhortations and commands, of course, but they are always connected to the foundational and empowering truth of the finished work of Christ. When we preach a message like “Six Steps to _______” or any other “be a better whatever”-type message — where the essential proclamation is not what Christ has done but what we ought/need to do — we become preachers of the law rather than Christ. (And it is not rare that this kind of message with barely any or no mention of Christ(!) at all gets preached.)


But is it just merely unfortunate? Something that could be improved but not really that big of a deal?


I think the Scriptures show us that this kind of preaching isn’t just off-center, but actually does great harm, actually serves to accomplish the very opposite of its intention. How?


1. Preaching even a “positive” practical message with no gospel-centrality amounts to preaching the law. We are accustomed to thinking of legalistic preaching as that which is full of “thou shalt not”s, the kind of fundamentalist hellfire and brimstone judgmentalism we’ve nearly all rejected. But “do” is just the flipside to the same coin “don’t” is on. That coin is the law. And a list of “do”‘s divorced from the DONE of the gospel is just as legalistic, even if it’s preached by a guy in jeans with wax in his hair following up the rockin’ set by your worship band.


2. The message of the law unaccompanied by and untethered from the central message of the gospel condemns us. Because besides telling us stuff to do, the law also thereby reveals our utter inability to measure up.


3. Therefore, a steady dose of gospel-deficient practical preaching doesn’t make Christians more empowered, more effective, but more discouraged, less empowered. Because the law has no power in itself to fulfill its expectations. The only thing the Bible calls power for the Christian is the grace of Christ in the gospel.


But it gets more serious than that.


4. The Bible goes further to suggest, actually, that without the gospel of Christ’s finished work, the preaching of the law of works serves to exacerbate disobedience. See Romans 5:20 and Romans 7, for this consideration. The law arouses passions eventually against itself or against its referent. In other words, without the saving power of the gospel, we go one of two ways in having the law preached to us: we end up being pushed to disobey (whether from anger at its judgment or discouragement from inability to keep it) or we end up thinking ourselves righteous apart from the righteousness the law really points to, that of Christ.


5. The law brings death (Romans 7:10). So the preaching of practical, relevant, applicational “do” messages aimed at producing victorious Christians is fundamentally a preaching of condemnation. It is the proclamation of grace, counter-intuitive though it seems and oddly enough, that trains us to obey God (Titus 2:11-12).


6. The preaching of Christless, gospel-deficient practical sermons increases self-righteousness. Because it is not focused on Christ’s work but our works. Christ-implicit, gospel-deficient practical sermons do not make empowered, victorious Christians, but self-righteous self-sovereigns. And the self-righteous go to hell.


Again, we tread lightly. But the stakes are high. And I think they are higher than we tend to think.


Brothers, let us preach the practical implications and exhortations of Scripture, yes. But let us not forget that the message of Christianity is Christ. It is the message of the sufficiency and power of salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. Let’s not preach works, lest we increase the sinfulness of our churches and unwittingly facilitate the condemnation of the lost.


The gospel of Jesus Christ is of first importance.


For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.

– 1 Corinthians 2:2

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Published on September 09, 2013 05:33

September 5, 2013

God is the Way Back to Himself

“If there were no Trinity, there could be no incarnation, no objective redemption, and therefore no salvation; for there would then be no one capable of acting as Mediator between God and man. In his fallen condition man has neither the inclination nor the ability to redeem himself. All merely human works are defective and incapable of redeeming a single soul. Between the Holy God and sinful man there is an infinite gulf; and only through One who is Deity, who takes man’s nature upon Himself and suffers and dies in his stead, thus giving infinite value and dignity to that suffering and death, can man’s debt be paid. Nor could a Holy Spirit who comes short of Deity apply that redemption to human souls. Hence if salvation is to be had at all it must be of divine origin. If God were only unity, but not plurality, He might be our judge, but, so far as we can see, could not be our Saviour and sanctifier. The fact of the matter is that God is the way back to Himself, and that all of the hopes of our fallen race are centered in the truth of the Trinity.”


– Loraine Boettner, “The Trinity”

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Published on September 05, 2013 12:00

All His Breakers and His Waves: Our Church, Suffering, and Stubborn Faith

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

– Job 1:21


The left side of Richard’s face is starting to droop. Oddly enough, it is the left eye he sees best out of. He told me so today in the store when I was standing to his right and he couldn’t follow our conversation well because I was outside his peripheral vision. Richard has brain cancer. Stage 4. He was diagnosed before he and his wife and two young children showed up at our church, had already had a couple of surgeries. I baptized him and his wife last year. They have found, as most who engage in the Middletown community do, that our church is full of sweet, gracious people who love to love on each other. Richard and his family drive an hour to worship with us on Sundays, and the distance has made it a bit difficult to do life-on-life community with them week-to-week, but we do our best, and so do they. Both Richard and his wife see his suffering as a blessing, and in a way, so does our church. They are being used by God to teach us how to suffer and how to love.


Middletown, in my fleshly-spirited and finite-minded estimation anyway, did not need this lesson. I’m sure I may be missing somebody in this calculation, but in my counting, we have had eight instances of cancer in our church over the last four years. That may not seem like a lot to you, but ours is a church of about 120. When you add in multiple people with multiple sclerosis, multiple ICU events involving toddlers and babies, and multiple bouts of serious depression, it’s beginning to feel like Middletown is a dangerous church to be in.


I confess that all last week, I felt God was being unfair and mean. You see, the Sunday before last the elders laid hands on Richard in our church service and anointed him with oil (per James 5:14). After a few months of encouraging reports in his battle, Richard suffered a seizure a couple of months ago that increased doctors’ concerns. A few more experimental treatments were suggested. Richard declined the only chemotherapy they said might work, as it ravaged his body once before in a way he determined worse than cancer. His most recent scan a couple of weeks ago shows the tumor in his brain is growing rapidly. He is out of medical options. They have given him a few months. But we’re not even to the part where I got mad at God for being mean yet.


So we laid hands on Richard and anointed him with oil, explaining to the congregation that this wasn’t magic or any kind of miraculous guarantee. We are trusting God — pleading with God — for Richard’s healing, but we totally understand that God doesn’t normally do that in the way we’re asking. So, like Daniel’s friends declared in Daniel 3:17-18, we know God is able to deliver Richard; “but if not,” we are committed to worshiping this God anyway. We know that in the end, Richard’s own prayer of faith will heal him and God will raise him up (per James 5:15).


Two days later, very early Tuesday morning, my phone rang. I know when my phone rings this early, it is not usually good news. I was not prepared for this news, however. On the other end was Elder Dale. He said he was up north in the hospital with two of our members, Jeff and Anne. Anne has been struggling with bizarre symptoms of nausea over the last month or two and local doctors have not been able to figure out what is wrong. After the last late-night ER visit, Jeff requested a CT scan. The words Dale said to me on the phone still sit in my ears like lodged rocks: “brain tumor.”


Anne had a brain tumor the size of a golf ball sitting behind her left eye. None of us could believe it. (Her husband Jeff had his battle with prostate cancer two years ago.) They removed 80% of the tumor in surgery last Thursday. The pathology report still remains to be seen, but the tumor has been classified “aggressive” and “fast-growing,” and the expectation is that Anne will need 60 days of chemotherapy to begin with.


Our little church is feeling a little beat up right now. What is God doing?


We have enjoyed many blessings, of course. In the last four years, we have seen increases in baptisms and discipleship. Our attendance has more than doubled and continues to grow. We have seen no “summer slump” this year and now that the fall is upon us, we are again wondering where we might put everybody when we stop having multiple vacationers out on a Sunday. We are running out of parking spaces and class rooms. We prayed for more young families and young singles, and God started sending them. In terms of souls and energy, our cup runneth over.


But I feel (fear?) that God is seasoning us. I mean, I know he is. I know what suffering is for. I’ve had my own. God crushing me was honestly the best thing he ever did for me. But I feel protective right now. And overwhelmed. The caregivers in our community — which is most of our community — are running on fumes. We feel unprepared, incapable, dumb.


But I know that when we are weak is actually when we are strong (2 Corinthians 12:10). I know that the Spirit-powered ability to suffer well is a filling up of what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions (Colossians 1:24), a witness as it were for the gospel by the gospel, an opportunity to reveal what our boast is (2 Corinthians 12:9), where our hope is (2 Corinthians 1:7), who our glory is (2 Corinthians 4:7).


Speaking of jars of clay: Today we visited Richard and his wife Erin. Richard, who once feasted on the Puritans and the Reformers, all the “old dead guys” of theological genius, is having more and more trouble reading. He’s having more and more trouble comprehending the words on a page. So I read to him today for a little while. The request was for Romans, so I began in Romans 5. We only made it halfway through Romans 6, because Richard needs little breaks to rest and because after every few verses, he would ask me to sum up what I had just read. Here is a little bit of the ground we covered, on suffering and hope:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. (Romans 5:1-11)


The text goes on to talk a lot about life and death. Christ’s. And ours. And Christ’s becoming ours. When I reminded Richard several times in different ways that when he died, he would be secured from wrath because Christ had already died for him, he would close his eyes.


What were we doing? We were breaking open the Scripture like a jar of clay and enjoying the glory inside. Or, rather, we were breaking open the Scripture like an alabaster flask and standing under the sweet-smelling oil.


In the car on the way to the store to get some lunch, Richard said, “Do you know what you’re going to say at the . . . after?” He’s not stupid. He understands what you say and he understands what he wants to say but the tumor has made it difficult for him to access certain words and concepts. He has trouble with his memory, and in this instance, after I recalled him asking earlier about plans for a prayer service for him that his wife and I were discussing — “Will that be before I… or after I?” he said — I knew what he was asking.


“At your funeral?” I said.


“Yeah.”


“Well, please tell me if there’s a particular Bible passage or specific points you want me to make, but basically I’m going to preach the gospel.”


“Yeah,” he said, “that’s what I want.”


The oil is sweet.


Anne is making her own drive. Her daughter Ally is getting married in Lake Tahoe next week. Anne has been forbidden from flying for obvious reasons. But not from riding in a car. So her son Mark is driving her across the country, from Vermont to Tahoe, so she can be at her daughter’s wedding. There’s another set of words sitting in my ears like lodged stones. They are from Anne’s husband Jeff. As he was giving Becky and me a tour of the Hope Lodge in Burlington, a free residence for families of cancer patients, he said, “I have no doubts about who’s on the throne.”


Here is my fear: My church — well, or, more honestly, I — will grow weary in doing good. We will have some doubts about who is on the throne. Or we will doubt his goodness. We may doubt his love. Or his sovereign omnipotence. Or both.


Vermonters are a stubborn people. They are hard-changers. I think this is part of the reason Becky and I feel so at home here. My prayer is that we can devote this stubbornness, this resilience, this dogged grip on “the way things are” to the glory of the Lord of hosts. By God’s grace, we will not lose heart or hope. By the Spirit’s power, Job’s confession will be ours: “Though he slay me, I will hope in him . . .” (Job 13:15).


And I confess the other part is true too: “…yet I will argue my ways to his face.” I say to the Lord it feels like enough. I tell him I think a little suffering will do. As I played Hungry-Hungry Hippos with Richard’s three year-old son today, I thought it should be Richard down here enjoying this game with his son. And during lunch, his son said to me, “My dad talks weird,” and I thought, “This isn’t fair, God! It’s not right.” God doesn’t need Richard or Anne. But their families do. Yes? No?


I know the Lord’s wisdom is unsearchable. And we know now just how heavy it is.


I am learning so much from Middletown Church. They have taught me a heckuva lot about how to love. And they are teaching me how to suffer. I suppose they are teaching me how to die. I think we might all be learning together that despite the happiness of our ongoing increase, because of what Christ has done to death (Romans 6:5,9), joy comes in the mourning, that somehow that way is actually better (Ecclesiastes 7:2).


“Everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:26)


We believe, Lord. Help our unbelief.


Deep calls to deep

at the roar of your waterfalls;

all your breakers and your waves

have gone over me.

By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,

and at night his song is with me,

a prayer to the God of my life.


– Psalm 42:7-8


(Top photo: Me and Richard. Bottom photo: Anne and Jeff)


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My Friend Nellie

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Published on September 05, 2013 07:00

September 4, 2013

Like a Dam Break

Man is eager for vengeance and God is eager for forgiveness.

– John MacArthur


There is only one against whom we have all sinned and we keep sinning, and yet he is the only one whose posture of forgiveness is more eager than eager. He has grace like riches (Eph. 1:7, 2:7). He doesn’t have to watch his spending. He forgives like it’s going out of style.


A fellow sinner may forgive but it takes some working up to do. In some cases, he may even be eager to forgive but this eagerness does not come naturally. In many cases, though, there is not eagerness but dutiful obligation. We bring our sorrow, our repentance, our request for pardon, and we receive questions, probing, testing, measuring. We deserve this, there’s no question about it. And really repentant persons will accept the difficulty of an offended party’s forgiveness as part of that repentance. So we slink, tail between our legs, chastened and stung. It has to be this way because of the nature of human hurt and the antisocial nature of sin.


But, genuinely sorrowed over our offense, aren’t we deep down hoping, craving, desperate for the offended not to stand off, arms crossed, waiting for us to drag ourselves into a posture of penitence, but smiling, ready to accept us again? And so our God runs to us. And he tells us to approach his throne with confidence (Heb. 4:16) to receive grace in our time of need.


The cross of Christ both proves and founds God’s eagerness to forgive. Because of Christ’s propitiating sacrifice, planned in love from eternity past and effectual to eternity future, we have no hoops to jump through, no qualifications to meet, no penitent mantras to intone, and no cowering to do. The act of God’s forgiveness is not a muted, somber affair, but a “time of refreshing” (Acts 3:19-20).


His lovingkindness endures forever. He is not just quick to forgive, but eager and aggressive. Forgiveness is flowing out of him. Your heavenly Father is not a miser with grace. He is a fountain of forgiveness.


“Forgiveness is mainly that the love of the offended shall flow to the offender, notwithstanding the offense. It is love rising above the dam which we have flung across its course, and pouring into our hearts. Our own parental forgiveness is in some feeble way analogous to God’s, and shows us that the essence of it is not the suspension of penalty, which may or may not be the case, but the unchecked and unembittered gift of God’s love to the sinner.”


– Alexander McLaren, “Christ’s Claim to Forgive, and Its Attestation” [emphasis added]


God’s forgiveness is like love rising over the dam, yes, a brimming overflow, but it’s also like love rushing mightily through a dam break, flooding freely.

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Published on September 04, 2013 17:43

September 3, 2013

Remembering is the First Change

It strikes me as I read through Psalm 42 — as I often do — how crucial memory is to the process of faith in the midst of difficulty or depression. “These things I remember…” the psalmist says in verse 4. When God allows affliction, it is important to remember his historic faithfulness.


There is a reason the Israelites filled the ark of the covenant with mementos of God’s faithfulness, and it’s not because they were magic talismans.


When you are stuck, deep, despondent, or in despair, think back to what God has delivered you from in difficult times past. Remember how he has never really failed you. Remember your way all the way back to Mount Calvary and the empty tomb. Remembering God’s historic faithfulness is the first step in enjoying his present faithfulness to you, even if you don’t feel it.

“We are simple people. You can’t remember ten things at once. Invariably, if you could remember just one true thing in the moment of trial, you’d be different. Bible ‘verses’ aren’t magic. But God’s words are revelations of God from God for our redemption.

“When you actually remember God, you do not sin. The only way we ever sin is by suppressing God, by forgetting, by tuning out his voice, switching channels, and listening to other voices. When you actually remember, you actually change. In fact, remembering is the first change.”


– David Powlison, Making All Things New


You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.

– Deuteronomy 6:8

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Published on September 03, 2013 09:07

Thinking Evangelically About Tim Tebow



I like Tim Tebow a lot. As an athlete and a person. Two seasons ago his run with the Denver Broncos, though for the sober-minded somewhat ill-fated, was thrilling to watch. He’s fun to root for, on and off the field. Like many Christians and sports fans, I have enjoyed Tebowmania, don’t mind the constant ESPN stories, and really hope he lands a starting gig with an NFL team.


As a Patriots fan, I was overjoyed when he signed with New England in the off-season. I suppose the Patriots ended up with one of the few third-string quarterbacks the fans were excited to watch. And we really wanted him to succeed. I was disappointed when he was cut, but I understand that football is football, and as much as the Patriots organization enjoyed and admired Tebow, they are ultimately in the business of winning football games. If Belichick and company really believed Tebow would be integral in getting to the playoffs and winning another championship, they would not have cut him.


But I’m a little concerned about the way many of my fellow evangelicals think about the phenomenon that is Tim Tebow, and I’m a little concerned about the way Tim Tebow may think about the phenomenon that is Tim Tebow. I think in general evangelicals could think more evangelically — which is to say, guided by the gospel, soberly. Some thoughts:


1. People who follow me regularly on Twitter know that I tweet a lot about NFL football. And I usually do so in a joking, even sarcastic, manner. I enjoy football a lot. Making fun of the players and teams is my way of not enjoying it too much (let the reader understand). I am up-front about my “man-crush” on Tom Brady and take all the ribbing this entitles me too. And I hope I give as much as I get. It’s all in good fun for me. I don’t hate anybody I joke about. Most people understand this. Except when I make a joke about Tebow. Most of my Tebow jokes poke fun at aspects of Christian culture, having some fun about his squeaky clean image. (“Tebow was late to practice because he was slipping tracts in his teammates’ lockers.” That kind of thing.) Some people understand I’m being light-hearted and that I actually like Tebow. Many people do not. Some have accused me not just of hating the guy but of damaging the testimony of the gospel.


2. I think we need to make a clear distinction between the reputation of the gospel and our desire to see Christian “celebrities” succeed. When we don’t, we lose our sense of humor. And what makes a better witness for the gospel — being super-serious about a Christian role model or demonstrating that we can have a sense of humor about ourselves? I fear that the Tebow-mania is just another manifestation of the way evangelicals think cultural cache and celebrity influence is vital to the cause of Christ. When I read the Bible, I see the opposite, actually, how God uses the low, the weak, the despised, the cultural cast-offs to further his kingdom. I am not against Christians in the entertainment or athletic spotlights, of course, but I am against the idolization of these people, which I think much of our fandom becomes. To be clear: The cause of Christ is not dependent on Tim Tebow’s success in the NFL. And, by the way, neither is his witness! So:


3. What do we communicate to young Christians when we overlook Tebow’s obvious deficiencies because of his faith? When we insist that his being cut is the result of his outspoken faith, that he’s some kind of martyr? I think we inadvertently teach that 1) you can only make an impact for God if you are high-profile, and 2) you should never admit your weaknesses or flaws because God works best through the strong and powerful.


4. I think evangelicals have an honesty problem when it comes to this part of the cultural marketplace. (I’m about to be pretty blunt.) We think our concert-like church services rival MTV and Disney. But they really don’t. We think our mainstream Christian music and Christian movies are just as artful as the best of the world’s offerings. But they really aren’t. We think if we pass around the right email stories and sketchy news links we will save America (or whatever). But we won’t. And we think our favorite Christian role models are the untouchable anointed. But they aren’t. What I’m saying is: It is not helpful, nor even Christian, to not be honest about Tim Tebow. So:


5. It’s becoming clear to most sober-minded folks that Tebow’s skill-set is not conducive to being a starting quarterback in the NFL. It says nothing about his character or faith to make this admission. He is, by all indications, a great guy with a great testimony and a great heart. This does not make him a great quarterback. And to be more direct, I have to wonder if anyone close to Tebow is enabled to speak truthfully to him about this matter. When he was cut from the Patriots roster last week, he characteristically went out with his head high and respect on display. On his Twitter, he thanked the Patriots organization for the opportunity, and then he tweeted a few Bible verses, and then he tweeted that his dream is still to be an NFL quarterback. Now, perhaps this dream is realistic. But most people, including people who want it to be realistic, are acknowledging it doesn’t seem realistic at all. He’s had ample opportunities. Here’s my thing: The NFL is full of starting players who played one position in college that is not their position today. This includes college starting quarterbacks who find their place in the NFL as safeties, running backs, tight ends, etc. I just have to ask: At what point is Tebow’s inflexibility about his dream actually a manifestation of pride? At what point does he need to say, “Well, I can’t be a quarterback, but I will play fullback”? I can’t say. Maybe you can’t say. But surely we are close to that day? I don’t know. I just hope he doesn’t ride his stubborn dream into athletic obscurity. He is, I think, talented enough to play in the NFL, but (probably) not as quarterback. I will close with this:


6. “Follow your dreams and don’t give up” is a message our young people hear a lot. Like, a lot. But it is not a uniquely Christian message. Divorced from the clear commands of Scripture and without the heart-shaping of the gospel of Jesus Christ, “follow your dreams and don’t give up” is actually a recipe for self-exaltation. Maybe we can help the church, especially our young believers, and maybe we can help Tebow himself, by taking him off the pedestal and loving him enough to believe that it’s not very Christlike to deceive ourselves or push headlong into a dream that might ought to be sacrificed. (I’m just thinking aloud here. Maybe he’ll get signed by the Buffalo Bills or something.)


I expect a lot of push-back on this post. And that’s okay. Thanks for reading it.

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Published on September 03, 2013 08:55

August 30, 2013

Utterly Saved

(35) Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst. (36) But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe. (37) All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out. (38) For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me. (39) And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”

– John 6:35-39


Salvation by Christ’s work is a gift of grace received through faith. This salvation is total (Romans 8:30) and we see its totality in John 6. In Christ, we are:


1. Satisfied (vv.35-36)

No more hunger. No more thirst. When we are full of Christ, we are truly full. He is the end of our fruitless searching for satisfaction, our appetites for idols.


2. Secured (v.37,39)

Never cast out, never lost. His securing hand (John 10:28), like his securing love (Romans 8:35-39), is omnipotent. If a Christian is united to Christ, he is as secure as Christ is.


3. Supernaturalized (v.39)

Heaven has come down to invade earth in Christ, and by God’s grace, heaven invades the very souls of his children (John 14:17, Romans 8:9) and sets up shop (Ephesians 2:22). Indwelt by the Spirit who seals (Ephesians 1:13), guarantees (2 Corinthians 1:22), instructs (John 16:13), and empowers (Acts 1:8, Ephesians 3:16), we are new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17), growing in grace (2 Peter 3:18) and bearing capital-S Spiritual fruit (Galatians 5:22-23), consecrated for the day we will receive our inheritance — glorified bodies (1 Corinthians 15:42-49).


By and in Christ, we are utterly saved.

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Published on August 30, 2013 08:00

August 29, 2013

To All Who Despair: Jesus is Making All Things New

Someday, Jesus the Redeemer will return to redeem everything. Fully. Completely. Eternally. He’s going to come to finish what he started. This life will be redeemed, this earth will be redeemed, these very bodies will be redeemed, and so our hopes and dreams and fears and failings will all be redeemed as well.


Revisit the Apocalypse with me:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the

first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and

the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem,

coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud

voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling

place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and

they will be his people, and God himself will be with

them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from

their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall

there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for

the former things have passed away.”

And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I

am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down,

for these words are trustworthy and true.” (Rev. 21:1-5)

. . . I’m counting on that. I’m “all in” on that. Behold! He is making all things new. And he’s doing it now. So whatever you’re going through, whatever you’ve been through, trust that the God who loves you is in control and is redeeming your life in and through your circumstances. Trust that the God who loves you will sustain you as you seek to live redemptively with and toward others. Trust that the God who loves you will not forget you, that he’s crafting beauty out of your darkness, that he’s telling a great story in your life, an epic one that places you in a vital role in the story of the body of Christ.


Your heart, soul, mind, and strength yearn for their redemption. Believe it is coming, deep down in your bones, for it is your bones that Jesus is promising to redeem. Believe it not as inspirational but as factual. I’m reminded of something Thomas Schmidt writes in his wonderful little book A Scandalous Beauty. Throughout several short meditations on the cross of Christ, Schmidt crafts brilliant and penetrating images of the gospel, none as penetrating as when he reflects on the loss of his young daughter, Susanna. In the conclusion of his book, in the postscript to his collection of redemptive stories, Schmidt reflects on Revelation’s promise of a new heavens and a new earth:

It matters to me that this is true, not merely interesting, not merely comforting. The chaos of this life, the flood waters, have closed over my head. Yet I choose against despair. I believe that death will one day die, that the love of God will prevail. In the meantime, even if the rest of my path lies in shadow, I will follow the Lamb in trust and in hope — until I see Susanna again. It may be that faith is no more and no less a choice between the words “it may be so” and “I will live as if it is so.”

Not far from my apartment, on a bluff overlooking the heaving sea, there is a marker on a new grave that bears the name of my only child and the following inscription:

With joy still deeper than pain

Gently flows the River

Where we shall meet again.


That is sentiment born of conviction, of hope in things unseen.


And my hope is that you can share it. My hope is that somehow in the storms of your life, even if you — or someone you love — are at the brink of death, you are seeing the light of redemption in the Son of God who died to redeem life and who rose to conquer death.


Whatever you’re doing, wherever you are, trust that the former things are passing away. Jesus the Redeemer is making all things new.


– from my first book, Your Jesus is Too Safe (Kregel, 2009), 169-171.

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Published on August 29, 2013 07:22

The Resurrection’s Higher Math

And Sadducees came to him, who say that there is no resurrection. And they asked him a question, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies and leaves a wife, but leaves no child, the man must take the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. There were seven brothers; the first took a wife, and when he died left no offspring. And the second took her, and died, leaving no offspring. And the third likewise. And the seven left no offspring. Last of all the woman also died. In the resurrection, when they rise again, whose wife will she be? For the seven had her as wife.”


Jesus said to them, “Is this not the reason you are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God? For when they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven. And as for the dead being raised, have you not read in the book of Moses, in the passage about the bush, how God spoke to him, saying, ‘I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not God of the dead, but of the living. You are quite wrong.”

– Mark 12:18-27


I love the way Jesus begins his answer not by answering but by asking. “Is this not the reason you are wrong…?” That’s what theologians call “bringing out the boom sauce.” Essentially, what he is saying is that you can know the Bible and not know the Bible.


He then answers more directly, and he makes a rather complex point, but I think what he’s saying is this: When God spoke to Moses at the burning bush, the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were long dead. Yet God said he was their God. This means they still existed in some sense. They were “alive” in some sense.


Jesus is using the Sadducees’ own source text to show them that the signs of resurrection are everywhere in it.


See, in their question the Sadducees are showing all their work. They’ve come up with a predicament that’s logical. They think it’s a stumper. But they’ve forgotten the central equation: Christ is better than the law and the law cannot account for the eternal kind of life (Romans 8:2; 2 Corinthians 3; Galatians 3:1-6; Hebrews 7).


They’ve got all the old covenant data, but they don’t know how to read it. Christ’s work – his life, death, and resurrection – inserts new variables into all of our equations. The Pharisees and Sadducees kept forgetting to account for Jesus! They are trying to solve these riddles with the simple math of the law when Jesus is doing the advanced calculus of the gospel. He’s got the higher math. He is the higher math.


And we cannot afford to leave the resurrection out of our spiritual arithmetic, or else all our calculations will be off.


This is a great picture of the gospel of grace being better than the law. The law condemns. It cannot give life. So when Christ comes to fulfill the law, he’s saying, “Anyone who trusts me and loves me, has reached the end of the law’s condemnation. You are no longer dead, but alive!”


Now the devil will come with his finely articulated arguments. He has his facts straight:


“Don’t you know, Jesus,” he will say, “this Jared Wilson is a flat-out sinner. He wakes up sinning, Jesus. When he was a kid, he lied a lot to make himself look better to others. Even when caught in lies, he’d stick to his guns. And he still does this. He’s a born liar! And you know, Jesus, how he’s thought about women. He’s a lustful pervert. And you know he cares so much about how people think of him. He worships his self-image. He is stubborn and defensive. And, Jesus, should we even mention October 18, 2006?* So Jesus, let me ask you this: When he dies, should this Jared guy go to some kind of purgatory to get straightened out? Or should he just go straight to hell?”


But my Jesus will look at my accuser and say, “Isn’t this why you are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God? Because Jared is in me by faith, and because there is no condemnation for those who are in me, he is an heir of eternal life. I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, and the God of Jared. I’m not the God of the dead but the living.”


The devil and all his unwitting spokespeople love the logic of our condemnation. And they might have some Bible verses — heck, they may have some Bible degrees — but they don’t know the Bible. Christ Jesus our Savior accounts for our life.


* I have no idea what happened on that date, by the way; I just picked it out of thin air because I’m sure I was a huge sinner on that day.

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Published on August 29, 2013 06:33