Daniel Darling's Blog, page 71

Resisting the Pound of Flesh

One of the best illustrations of leadership in the Bible is King David’s refusal, twice, to kill King Saul (1 Samuel 24, 1 Samuel 26). You don’t have to be well steeped in Old Testament history to know that Saul was the jealous king who had disobeyed God and took out his anger and wrath on David. For many, many years he chased David around the land of Israel, trying hard to kill this shepherd boy-turned-King. Even Saul’s own son, Jonathan, knew his father was wrong and befriended David at the risk of his life.

And yet, when David had two chances to kill Saul, he didn’t. Many interpret this as a warning for rebelling against God-ordained authority. I’ve even heard it abused this way to justify corrupt leadership. I do think it can be applied in this context and I do think an anti-authoritarian attitude conveys a lack of faith in God’s sovereignty. However, there is another lesson here that is even more powerful, I think.

When you have been wronged or you have serious disagreements with a person or a movement, there is a temptation to not only disagree, but to nourish the desire to see your enemies pay. David himself struggled with this desire, evidenced in the many imprecatory prayers (Psalms 7, 35, 55, 58, 59, 69, 109, and 139.). In these appeals to God, David asked for the destruction of those who opposed him. I imagine he envisioned a portrait of King Saul in more than one of these prayers. And yet the scenes with David in 1 Samuel 24 and 1 Samuel 26 show us just what David did with those thoughts of revenge. He didn’t act on them. 

The desire to get back, to go for the jugular, to have his pound of flesh against the man who had tormented him and ruined his life–this desire stayed where it always should–in the space between David and his God. In other words, while David felt the urge to see real-world justice happen against Saul, David acted on the biblical truth that vengeance belongs to the Lord (Romans 12:9). And apparently God had so moved in David’s heart that when he heard the news of Saul’s death, he grieved deeply (2 Samuel 1).

We could learn a lot of from David’s example, can’t we? Whenever we are wrong or we have a very substantive disagreement with someone, there is a great temptation to not only “win the argument” (whatever that means), but also to see our enemies, both real and ideological, find a swift and embarrassing demise. And here is the scary thing, like David, there will likely be nobody in our inner circle who will counsel us away from pursuing our enemy’s last pound of flesh. Nobody to say, “Hey, wait a minute, trust the Lord, don’t seek vengeance.” We live in a culture that encourages this kind of bloodlust. Politicians don’t simply run for office, they dig and search for the one piece of dirt that will sink their opponents. We can’t simply disagree with people, we have to forward emails detailing their utter depravity and Machiavellian schemes. Church leaders do this as well. Christian bloggers do this. We can’t have civil arguments over substantive doctrine, we must wish our opponents the swiftest possible destruction.

This is why we need David’s example of leadership. When he could have ended Saul’s life in embarrassing humility (dying while going to the bathroom, can you imagine a more ignoble death?), rather David directed his thoughts upward and trusted in the Lord. This is attitude of forgiveness, repentance, and trust is vital for every follower of Christ. It makes us countercultural. It’s even more important for Christian leaders, for what we model in moderation, our followers will exhibit in excess. If we create cultures that celebrate retribution and cheap rhetorical victories, those who hang on our every word will take this to an extreme. And instead of creating disciples of Jesus, we’ll create disciples of an insular, spiteful movement. Let’s not do this.

Instead, when given the opportunity to humiliate those who have hurt us or those who disagree, let’s put the sword back in the sheath and walk away.

People Unlike Ourselves

In my weekly Friday Five interview for Leadership Journal, I had the privilege of chatting with Trillia Newbell, a prolific writer and author. One of the subjects she frequently writes about is race and the Church. I asked her how pastors and church leaders can promote racial diversity:

Pastors and church leaders can begin by relating—whether through hospitality or guest speakers—to those unlike themselves. This will send a message to their congregations. People are watching to see what their leaders are doing, and though we can and should pursue others regardless of what our leadership does, the truth is we watch, learn, and emulate them. So if the pursuit of diversity is important to a leader or pastor, they need to actively pursue it themselves. They’ll be amazed by the effect on their church environment.

via You can read the rest of the interview here:

5 Reflections on My First Year of Seminary

Even though I’ve been in ministry for several years, writing, pastoring, preaching, I made the decision last year to apply at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. By some miracle of divine providence, I got in and by another miracle of divine providence, I finished a year. Because I’m doing this while I’m pastoring and writing, it will likely take me five years to complete my degree.

So what do I think after a year of seminary? Here are five reflections:

1) To attend seminary is a privilege. One of the frequent prayers we make in our formation group is this, “Dear God, thank you for the rich privilege to study at such a good seminary.” Most pastors and ministry workers around the world are not afforded the rich theological resources available to Americans. There’s a lot of complaining going on in the Church today about seminary, lot’s of questions about higher education, etc. But those of us who have been or are being exposed to seminary, do we realize the privilege we have?

2) Seminary is merely the beginning of lifelong learning. The purpose of attending seminary is to give those called to preach and teach the Word a season of intensive study and reflection. But this learning is only the beginning of a lifelong pursuit of God. So often you hear pastors or ministry workers say things like, “I didn’t learn this is in seminary.” I think we say this because we misunderstand the purpose of our education. Yes, it is to train us in teaching the Word of God. yes it is to provide some leadership tools. But there are many things we will learn in life that cannot and should not be taught in a seminary class. And that’s okay. That’s not your school’s role. In seminary, the best and most competent pour into you what they have, the body of truth passed from generation to generation, and it is the Holy Spirit’s job to shape your character for God’s mission.

3) To really study and know God requires serious discipline. The rigors of academic study force you to ask yourself, over and over again, “How much do I want to know God.” Because serious study of the Word requires discipline and focus. It requires your heart and your soul. It takes much from you. And yet, can you think of a subject which demands more study than the study of God and His written revelation? I’ve been impressed by my fellow seminary classmates. Guys who move across the country or world with their families and get up at ungodly hours in the morning to study Greek are guys serious about God’s mission. They’re not messing around. They’re about doing God’s work.

4) As much as you know, there’s always more to learn. It’s interesting for me to balance my role as Senior Pastor, husband, father, and seminary student. At church and at home, because of my leadership role, I’m kind of the guy people look at who is suppose to know things. Yet when I sit in that seminary class under a longtime professor, I’m just a student who knows next to nothing. This kind of humility is good for me. It reminds me that as much as I think I know and as much as I have read and studied, there is always so much more.

5) Studying theology is an act of worship. If there is one thing that studying at TEDS this year did for me it was to increase my passion for God. Yes, there is a level of theological study that can be divorced from personal piety. We’re warned about that constantly at TEDS. But done right, studying in seminary can be a rich time of personal growth. Perhaps it’s because I’m in the everyday throes of ministry and family, but seminary has only allowed me to know Christ more by knowing His Word more. To make the sacrifice to study theology intensely is an act of worship.

Bottom Line: I’ve loved my time at TEDS. I can’t wait for my next year of study. I’m grateful for this rich season of intellectual and spiritual growth.

Finding Joy In a Fallen World

I’ve been deeply convicted lately, about my own writing and interaction on social media. I enjoy keeping up with current events, politics, and movements in the Church. I like writing in reaction to news stories, helping people think biblically about what is going on in the world. I’d like to think I do a fair job at doing this, but I know that because I see “through a glass darkly” even at my best, my view of the world is tainted by sin. It’s a good thing to help people size up the world biblically, but if we’re not careful (and by we, I mean me), people can assume that the Christian faith is all about cynicism, negativity, and opposition.

I recently read, afresh, Philippians 4:8:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

We typically use this verse as a guideline for what kind of entertainment we allow ourselves to view. Some tape this to their television set or computer. This is a good application of this verse, but I wonder if seeing this only as a sort of entertainment filter limits the application. I think there is more here.

Think on these things. Paul is repeating a theme common to his writing. He’s applying the gospel message to the way we think. God has given us minds with which to love him. And Paul is asking a question, “How are we stewarding our thought lives?”

There is a lot of bad in the world. There is a lot of sin. There are many injustices which demand the prophetic voice of God’s people. There is a lot of bad in the Church. There is a lot of sin. There are injustices, even in the Church, which demand the prophetic voice of God’s people.

And yet . . . should the negative occupy all we speak and write about? Should we be primarily reactionary? Or, does Paul counsel us here to operate our ministry from the position of what is beautiful instead of what is ugly? Let’s review where Paul is write now as he’s writing these words:

He’s in jail.

He’s been unjustly treated.

He lost his religious freedom.

He’s in the Roman Empire, governed by one of the most sadistic, authoritarian madmen ever put in power.

He’s got friends, Christian friends, who’ve betrayed him.

He’s probably very sickly.

And yet Paul says, to paraphrase, “In light of what we have in Christ, let’s think on these things: truth, honor, justice, purity, loveliness, what is commendable and what is praiseworthy.”

In other words, let’s not singlehandedly focus on what is bad in our world, let’s not simply react to everything negative. Even though this world is so tainted by sin and there are evil people and tragic circumstances, there is still a lot of goodness and beauty and joy in this world. Let’s find those things and rejoice in them. Let’s ponder them. Let’s revel in them.

Yes, there is time for lament and sorrow and weeping. But given that we know the Man of Sorrows who has born our grief, let’s train our minds to find what is beautiful in this world, what is lovely and pure and wonderful. Let’s rejoice in a golden sunset. Let’s revel in the beautiful laughter of our children. Let’s appreciate good art, regardless of the source. Let’s enjoy a sport event without guilt. Let’s revel in deep friendships. Let’s love our spouses and enjoy their company. Let’s admire a well-crafted piece of furniture. Let’s laugh and cry at a good theatrical production. Let’s let the best music run through the ears into the deepest part of the heart.

As a Christian, we can look at what is beautiful and we can do it to the glory of God. Why? Because anything beautiful or lovely or good can catapult our hearts into worship of the Creator who made it. Every time your child laughs and gives you joy, you can silently worship God who is the giver of all good gifts. And you can do this with a delicious meal, a glorious soundtrack, a delightful conversation, or anything that brings you wholesome pleasure. You can do this because you know each and every glimpse of beauty is a reflection of the One who is beautiful: Jesus.

What Paul is really saying, I think, is this. Don’t be cynical. Be grateful. If it was ingratitude (according to Romans 1) that turned man’s heart from Creator to creation, then it is gratitude that turns man’s heart the other way. For if we listen to Paul and think long enough about what is good and lovely and just and commendable and praiseworthy, we’ll find Jesus.

Truth Matters, But So Does Our Attitude

Today I had the chance to interview one of my favorite pastors and authors, Joshua Harris. I’m a couple of years younger than Josh, so his books on dating I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Boy Meets Girl really helped me adopt a more Christ-centered view of dating and marriage when I was in high-school and in college. I’ve been reading his books and listening to his messages online ever since.

His latest book is Humble Orthodoxy. I first heard him give this message the Gospel Coalition in Chicago in 2011. It really resonated with me. I had the chance, in this interview, to ask him what this term means. He explained:

It’s a simple idea, really. Truth matters, but so does our attitude. It’s vital that we be committed to orthodox Christian belief, but we also need to defend and share this truth with compassion and humility towards others. I want to remind believers that to glorify Jesus we need both humility and orthodoxy—we can’t choose one or the other.

You can read the entire interview with Joshua Harris here:

The Grace of Radical Ordinariness

There has been much discussion in the evangelical world about the call to radical discipleship. Perhaps it began with Matthew Lee Anderson’s corrective to books by men like David Platt, Francis Chan, and others. I thought Matt’s piece was very helpful. On other hand, I have also been encouraged by the books and movements Anderson sought to correct. David Platt and Francis Chan and others are right in pushing the American church from it’s lethargy, of echoing Jesus call to radical discipleship.

Where the conversation, I think, is unhelpful is when it devolved into a sort of mockery of some of the radical message. I felt Anthony Bradley’s piece in World was unfair and, at times, snarky and dismissive of genuine attempts at Christian faithfulness. I also disliked Erick Erickson’s piece, which demonstrated a sort of dismissive, broad-brush approach to Christian’s answer the call to go serve Christ in hard places.

The problem, sometimes, with our discussions and our movements is that we embrace some wild, reactionary pendulum swings. I’m disturbed by this. I think it reflects our inability to embrace tension. The Scriptures are full of seemingly competing ideas that are not meant to be resolved or “won.” They are meant to be embraced as they are. One of these is the two , side-by-side ideas that form the basis of the “Radical” conversation.

On the one hand, Jesus calls us to sacrificial, out-of-the-ordinary, commitment to His call. He calls us to suffer and to die. He calls us to give up what is precious. He calls us to be his emissaries to the hard and difficult places of the world, to permeate all corners of the globe with His love.

And yet, we are called to a sort of ordinariness. A sort of faithful, anonymous regular living. We are to fulfill our unique vocations, based on the set of talents, gifts, and opportunities He has given us. We’re called not simply to be pastors or missionaries in far-flung places, we’re called to faithful living at home, in ordinary vocations, because the actual work we produce honors God as the Creator. We reflect him when we do good work.

These two realities do not have to compete. So why do they? Well I think we have two problems inherent in a depraved nature. First is the temptation to hold ourselves in higher esteem than our neighbors. So the call God has given to me has to be the call God gives everyone and so we look down on those with differing vocations and choices. The guy who moves his family into the inner city might think Christians in the suburbs are not living out fully the mission of Christ. And the suburban guy might think the city-dweller is just a bit grandstanding with his big ‘save-the-city’ mission. Both suffer from judgmentalism. We can easily become legalistic and make our choices the norm for everyone around us.

Secondly, we tend to justify our own choices and comforts. So our reaction to reading a book like Radical might be to mask the conviction of the Spirit with a sort of mockery. I know this attitude well as a long-time Christian. I remember growing up and looking friends who took their Christian commitment a bit too seriously. The easiest thing, when you are seriously challenged, is to respond with mockery and self-justification.

So how should we approach our call to discipleship? First, we should it seriously. I agree with Ed Stetzer when he says that, in general, the problem in America is not that too many Christians are selling all they have and moving to far-flung places. The problem is that not enough people are. As a pastor I see, too often, a lazy approach to Christianity, where living for Christ really causes no additional sacrifice. To follow him, to evangelize, to grow in knowledge is viewed as sort of a nice option after everything else in life is taken care of. To see the gospel permeate all of life sounds a bit too, well, radical. The Great Commission  after all, is not an option. Making disciples is part and parcel of our Christian commitment. And to mock someone like David Platt who has an urgent desire to see Christians make disciples, to me, is wrongheaded. It sounds too much like the short-sighted church folks who dismissed William Carey’s burden to bring the gospel to India. I praise God for men like David Platt.

But secondly, we must understand that you can be radical in an ordinary sort of way. Radical doesn’t always mean doing what God called someone else to do. And my radicalness shouldn’t be used as a hammer against your life. The radical call to discipleship shouldn’t damage the doctrine of vocation, which gives God-ordained worth and value to seemingly “secular” endeavors. The guy who sweats Monday-thru-Friday in a low-paying factory job can be radical in that he is unusually committed to his chosen vocation, seriously about knowing Christ, wildly extravagant in his giving, and faithful to his local church. He may never write a New York Times bestselling book, may never be interviewed by Christianity Today, and will likely never appear at a conference near you. And yet, he is radical. I think of my own father, a plumber. Dad doesn’t preach sermons. Doesn’t visit AIDS orphans. Hasn’t been to a third-world country. And yet Dad has always done great, great plumbing work to the glory of God. He’s been an incredibly sacrificial giver. He’s been faithful to God and to his local Bible-believing church. And he raised his family to love Jesus. That’s radical in an ordinary way. Dad has been radically faithful in a way that few Christian men are.

My point is that we shouldn’t pit Christians like my father over against Christians who are doing more seemingly radical stuff like digging wells and helping in the slave trade. We need both kinds of people. We shouldn’t shame those who are being faithful where they are in their chosen vocation, who live in the suburbs, who have nice manicured lawns. And we shouldn’t mock those who feel persuaded to move to difficult areas of the world and live out the gospel that way.

And all of us should periodically examine our obedience. Are we being radical where God has called us?

My Prayer Before the Illinois General Assembly

I had the honor of delivering the convocation on Monday afternoon before the Illinois General Assembly in Springfield. I was graciously invited by the state representative whose district includes Gages Lake, Rep. Sam Yingling. I brought my eight-year old daughter, Grace. We are kindly hosted down in Springfield by my friends, Dan and Linda Anderson and their seven children. Dan is the director of Brazil Gospel Fellowship Mission. I also had a terrific time of fellowship with Shaun Lewis, who ministers with Capitol Commission  Shaun reaches out to the representatives, senators, supreme court justices, and staffers with Bible studies, prayer and any counseling they need. I also had the chance to catch up with some good friends: Rep David McSweeney, Rep. Tom Morrison, and others. Grace and I also got to tour the fabulous Abraham Lincoln Library and Museum. If you are ever in Springfield, you must stop there.

The prayer itself was a little nerve-wracking. I’ve done quite a bit of public speaking and preaching and praying–so I’m not usually that nervous with this stuff. But when the presiding speaker spoke my name and I stepped up to the giant lecturn to pray, I did get a few butterflies. I prepped last week by looking at the prayers of several who have prayed before the assembly. Then I wrote it out to the approximate length of what the prayers are.

I wanted to accomplish three things: a) sincerely pray on behalf of the families of the representatives. Politicians are so despised these days, I wanted to be the one person who prays for their well-being and strength. b) represent Christ well in this public forum. I was determined to pray a Christian prayer to our Lord, Jesus Christ. I didn’t worry about any retribution and, to the credit of those who invited me, I had no warnings on that. And the previous convocations included Christ. c) I wanted to offer a prayer asking for wisdom and guidance for our state in the many issues that face us.

At the end of the day, I hope I was a service to the men and women who serve Illinois in the general assembly. I hope I represented my Lord well. And I hope even this prayer might cause some, even one, to ask questions that might lead them to come to Jesus in faith.

Below is my prayer:

Prayer of Convocation

Illinois General Assembly

Monday, May 20th, 2013

2:00 PM

 Dear Heavenly Father. We offer our humble gratitude for the gift of freedom as Americans, forged over 200 years of messy democracy and protected by the blood of our fighting men and women. Let us be ever mindful of the many peoples around the world who are not as free, as prosperous, as blessed as we are.

 We are grateful to live in the beautiful and diverse state of Illinois. For the leaders who have risen from this hallowed chamber. For the movements birthed here on our rich soil.

 We ask humbly for your blessing on our great land. We offer prayer for the leaders today who serve you, here, in this town. As you have commanded us, we pray for them. For their families while they are away. For their safety while they serve here. For their integrity and wisdom in shaping the laws that will shape our future.

We are thankful for each representative who has stepped out of his ordinary life to serve in leadership here. They have spent countless hours campaigning and now serving. They have given up precious time and resources. They have sacrificed their privacy, putting their lives and their families’ lives on public display. Care for each representative, each senator, each staffer and all of the family members in a special way.

I pray that you’re Spirit visits this place in a powerful way. I pray these men and women find the fortitude to lead well. Give each leader rest, refreshment, and a clear mind. We ask you to move our leaders to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before their God.

Help each lawmaker to consider your command to love our neighbor as much as we love ourselves, mindful of the dignity and worth of each human life, created in the image of God. Help them not to forget the poor, the immigrant, the marginalized, and the unborn. Help them create laws that support the institutions that make our communities flourish, that encourage and sustain healthy families, that give hope to those struggling to find their way.

We ask your forgiveness for yielding, too often, to the temptation to forget you in our national and political life. For the times we reject your gracious providence. For confusing courage with incivility. For confusing liberty with license. For substituting our own agendas for yours. For putting our own interests above those we serve. For the tendency to abdicate our responsibility to deal with the tough problems.

Lord, we ask for your grace this day as these men and women endeavor to govern the people of this great state. May they realize that their power is limited, granted to them by your gracious decree. Help them wield this power with caution and humility.

We long for the city to come whose builder and maker is God. We’re thankful for the gift of your Son, who has offered entrance into this kingdom by his sacrificial death and miraculous resurrection.

Grant each of these legislators fresh grace today.

In the name of your son, Jesus Christ, we pray, Amen.

 

God’s Purpose and Mental Illness

Today, for my weekly Leadership Journal Interview, I had the chance to talk with Amy Simpson, author of the new book, Troubled Minds. I asked her about some of the misconceptions we have about mental illness. Among her answers was this very hopeful one:

Many people also mistakenly believe that people with mental illness are doomed to live wasted and unproductive lives—that they can’t contribute to the life of the church. We have this sense of spiritual hopelessness about mental illness that we don’t have about other treatable conditions, even when they’re very serious. But God has a purpose for everyone. Mental illness may alter the course of a person’s life, but it doesn’t mean that person’s life is no good anymore. Psalm 139 is a beautiful reminder of our value to God, and his attention to the details of our lives. Verse 16 celebrates, “You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.” God is not surprised by any of our suffering, and he wants to use all of us. His redemption is always at work, and he uses suffering to make all of us more like him and to qualify us for ministry to others. If the church gives up on people, that is the church’s doing. It’s not God’s policy.

You can read the rest of the interview here:

Why Going to Church on Sunday is An Act of War

Okay, so maybe that title is a bit melodramatic. But I wanted to get your attention, because I think faithful, daily attendance at your local gospel-preaching church is important. It’s important for all the reasons we know, right? To hear the Word preached. To develop community in the body of Christ. To exercise your spiritual gifts. To support the gospel proclamation both local and international. To obey the Scriptures.

Yes to all of these reasons for going to church. And also yes to the well-worn clique, “You can go to church every week for your whole life and still be far from the Kingdom of God.” Yes, I’m still preaching that because it’s still true. Going to church won’t get you one yard closer to the pearly gates.

And yet, the simple act of going to church–I’m assuming here a church who preaches the gospel and declares that Jesus Christ is King–is in and of itself a declaration of war. When you’re weary legs stands for another verse of the chorus and you offer praise to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, you are saying, in effect, that the reigning prince of the power of the air, Satan (Ephesians 2:2) is really not the King He thinks he is. There is another King, another Kingdom and it’s coming one day in it’s fullness and power. When you gather with your fellow believers and worship Christ, you are saying to the rest of the world that man is not ultimate. You are saying that the great movements of this world may have some power, but ultimately they are part of God’s gathering of history to Himself and for His kingdom. When you worship the risen Christ every Sunday at your church, you are telling the world that in your life, for this moment, Christ is ultimate. He is to be worshipped above all else. You’re making a statement that there is Someone deserving of more adulation and worship than the lesser things to which we pledge allegiance. You’re inviting them to ask you, “Why do you think the Kingdom of God is better than the Kingdom of man? What is it about Christ that gets you to roll out of bed, get dressed, get your family dressed, hop in the car, and go to church every single Sunday? 

Now I know you don’t feel like this on most Sundays. I don’t even feel like this and I’m a pastor. But that doesn’t make it less true. So go to church for all the reasons you should go to church, the ones we mentioned above. But also go to church so you can tell the world, by your actions, by your praise, by your not being somewhere else, that there is another King. And he’s worthy of your worship together with other citizens of His kingdom.

Going to a bible-believing church, in a largely Christian culture, may not seem so courageous. It still may even seem to be the good and right thing to do (though it has less cultural cache than it once had). But that doesn’t make it less significant.

So this Sunday, think about that as you scrape yourself up and make the decision to go to church.

Why Your Spiritual Growth Matters to the Community

Last week I preached a Mother’s Day message from 1 Thessalonians 2:7-9. Paul compares discipleship to the actuall practice of a mother nursing her child. In this, the mother is a source of life for her child. So it is that we as Christians, must be conduits of life-giving spiritual nutrition for those around us.

This has a lot of implications for the way we live. First, it matters what we ourselves are eating. A mother who is breast-feeding has to be very, very careful about her diet because what she consumes will then make up the milk for her baby.

As a Christian, what are you consuming? Are you growing yourself? Are you taking in the meat of the Word so you can feed others. You see, there is a progression here. You can’t exactly give a baby a steak or pork chops or pizza. A mother has to take in the food, chew it up, digest it, and then her body produces milk. A baby’s digestive system needs the simple formula that breast milk gives.

When our little Emma was a baby, she had such digestive problems that we had to purchase very expensive formula–$45 a can. It broke down the proteins so finely that it enabled her sensitive system to process it and for her to get good nourishment. Paul’s comparison to a nursing mother and her baby tells us something about the way we grow. We begin, as spiritual infants, with milk. Another Apostle, Peter, picks up this theme:

Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.

1 Peter 2:2-3 (ESV)

Notice Peter’s words. We begin with the pure spiritual milk of the Word—not diluted or polluted–but the pure milk of the Word. Kingdom as children, taking in the very basics, the very pure, refined, simple milk.

But, God doesn’t intend for us to stay that way. He intends for us to grow up. To do that, according to Paul, it seems we need to be fed and nurtured by someone more mature than us. Someone who can take the heavy meat of the word and feed us and help us to grow.This is why pastors and teachers and spiritual leaders are given to the Church (Ephesians 4).

Sadly, there are some Christians who still drinking milk who don’t pursue growth. Paul discussed this, in his frustrations with the Corinthians:

But I, brothers, could not address you as spiritual people, but as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it. And even now you are not yet ready,

1 Corinthians 3:1-2 (ESV)

This is a crisis. Imagine my little Emma Rose—now three years old—is still on that expensive $45-a-can formula. When she was a newborn, it was a stage we knew she’d get through. But if, at three, she is still on the milk, we’d be going to doctors and experts and wondering what is wrong. She should be on to the meat by now.

And so it is with some Christians. They are still drinking milk. They’ve not pursued, with intentionality, the deeper things of God. They are content with milk. And something is wrong. It’s not always a matter of how old you are or how long you’ve been a Christian. It’s the way you approach your spiritual nourishment.

Sometimes you can present a child with food, but he doesn’t eat it. A good parent makes their kid eat. God as a good father, bring circumstances in your life that force you to look deeply into the word, to lean on him, and to grow up in your faith. But if you continue to resist, you will not grow. It’s up to you to take your fork and eat.

This means you prioritize church. This means you make Bible study, reading and prayer a habit.  I think of Paul, who at the end of this life, was still asking for his books. I’m amazed that my wife, who watches four children, homeschools our two older ones, runs woman’s ministries, takes care of the house—she still finds time to grow in her faith. She’s probably read more books this year already than many Christians. Did I mention to you that she’s dyslexic and has a hard time reading?

The truth is that there are may Christians who are still spiritual infants, who haven’t grown much in the last few years, and still need milk. And here’s the tragedy of this, really. God has created each of us to a fountain of spiritual nourishment, a conduit of His grace to others. But when we fail to grow, we can’t feed others. We can’t help build the church. We can’t be a light in our communities.This was the concern of the writer of Hebrews:

For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.

Hebrews 5:12-14 (ESV)

Do you see what Paul is saying here—it should be a sober warning to all of us. You see, to live on milk means we can’t digest, can’t handle the meat of the Word. And the reason we need to handle the meat of the Word is not so we can be Bible nerds and know all the ways to pronounce Hebrew words, but so we can feed and give life to others.

The Christian life is to be one of giving, of making disciples, of growing up into salvation. It is allowing the gospel to so capture us that we grow up, so that we handle the deep things and pass them on to others.

There are people in our world God is calling us to feed, to love, to care for, to disciple, to nurture—are we fulfilling our role? Our we sources of life to those around us? When we don’t grow spiritually, it’s not just a matter of our own malnutrition, it directly affects the community. They may be starving, because we haven’t grown enough to feed them.