All Scripture is God-breathed . . .

This often-quoted Scripture about Scripture in 2 Timothy 3:16 gets a lot of attention today (and it should). Many fine defenses of the classical understanding of these three Greek words (pasa graphē theopneustos) have been published in recent decades. The God-inspired, or God-exhaled, nature of holy Scripture is worth receiving and defending and — as the rest of the verse reads — putting to use. Theorize and argue about it as we might, a second foot lands that makes this a strikingly practical text:

All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness . . .

Take up Scripture, and use it, Paul writes. It is profitable, that is, valuable, beneficial, useful (Greek ōphelimos). We might even say it’s doubly useful — not only for those who are taught, reproved, corrected, and trained, but also for the teacher himself. That’s the purpose Paul gives: “. . . that the man of God (the teacher himself!) may be complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:17). Scripture not only profits the people; it equips the teachers. Christian pastors dare not feign to teach and preach to God’s people apart from using Scripture — with the kind of use (and not abuse) that God intends.

Are the Four in Order?

Now, ancient letter-writing was an expensive and time-consuming endeavor (we shouldn’t assume the kind of speed and carelessness with which we dash off emails today). Skilled craftsmen like Paul would thoughtfully plan and draft and rewrite and edit and proof their epistles before those words hit the Roman roads.

So, when an apostle lists a sequence like the last part of 2 Timothy 3:16 — “for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” — he means it. He thought of this list, ordered it, drafted it, reviewed it, and finalized it. The Theological Dictionary of the New Testament goes as far as to say that this is “obviously a planned sequence in this list of nouns.”
While guarding against over-reading the order, we can look for reasons why Paul chooses these particular words and arranges them like he does.

Let’s consider, then, this planned sequence for the pastoral use of Scripture in the local church. How might these specific activities clarify our calling and practice as pastor-teachers?

First and Foremost: Teach

It’s no surprise that Paul would begin with “teaching.”

Teaching is the distinctive, central labor of the pastor-elders in the life of the local church. The risen Christ gives his church its pastors and teachers (Ephesians 4:11), leaders who speak the word of God (Hebrews 13:7), overseers who not only exercise authority but do so mainly through teaching the gathered church (1 Timothy 2:12). Good pastor-elders “labor in preaching and teaching” (1 Timothy 5:17). The heart of their calling is not their own wisdom or life hacks or executive savvy, but feeding souls through teaching and preaching God’s word.

So, Paul takes a deep breath after verse 17 and then says, after a long, loaded preamble, “preach the word” (2 Timothy 4:2). And such pastoral preaching in the life of the local church is clearly bound up with teaching:

preach the word . . . reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching . . . (2 Timothy 4:2–3)

Let’s not miss the prevenient nature of Christian preaching and teaching: ideally, instruction in sound doctrine begins before the church encounters error. Preaching the word and teaching the Scriptures is steady-state, everyday Christian pastoral ministry. We feed the souls of the sheep on God’s words. His Scriptures are the green pastures and still waters to which good shepherds lead their flock. First comes faithful, heartful preaching and teaching, as daily bread and water; then comes the defense of the flock as various threats arise.

If the sequence of nouns in 2 Timothy 3:16 represents four distinct aspects of the pastoral use of Scripture, then it is hard to imagine another activity appearing first. Teaching is the pastors’ first and foremost call, and its coming first helps us to recognize what we might call a “didactic order” — a logical sequence here that lists teaching first, then rebuke, then correction, then training.

Next: Expose Error to Light

Appropriately, “reproof” comes next. Now the term is negative and responsive, complementing the positive and pro-active endeavor of teaching. However well the pastors teach their people, errors and deceptions inevitably emerge, often related to prevailing errors in the world (or overreactions to those errors) that find sympathy in the church. We Christians also have plenty of indwelling sin to originate our own errors as well. Every church and all Christians are susceptible to both innocent and culpable mistakes, in belief and practice, that need to be exposed to the light.

Pared with teaching, this reproof, says Gordon Fee, is “the other side of the task; [the pastor] must use Scripture to expose the errors of the false teachers and their teachings” (1 & 2 Timothy, Titus, 13). Exposing error to light, through words, is the heart of this second activity (John 3:20; Ephesians 5:11, 13). Good preaching and teaching exposes errors, yet without letting error set the agenda. Teaching is the tip of the spear — and the advancing spear divides truth from lies (and half-truths), and sheds fresh light on unlit nooks and crannies, enlightening darkened minds and convicting compromised hearts.

Pastoral exposition, then, not only exposes our people to the light by faithfully teaching Scripture; it also exposes remaining pockets of darkness in us and in our habits of life. And such exposure of error need not be combative or heavy-handed. Rather, like pastoral admonition (an even stronger term in the New Testament), reproof is familial. The apostle Paul says he wrote to the Corinthians not to shame them, but as a father to beloved children (1 Corinthians 4:14).

If even admonition is to be brotherly (2 Thessalonians 3:15), rather than adversarial (and works hand in hand with teaching, Colossians 1:28; 3:16), then wise shepherds, as fathers and brothers to the flock, will expose errors with the same hope, patience, and Christian grace they exercise in their teaching. The call to reprove is no license to sin, abandon self-control, or to draw attention to the teacher’s own smarts as the one who knows better.

Good pastors lovingly expose error — however gently or severely the situation requires (Titus 1:13; 2:14) — because we have a clear, objective, fixed standard of truth, outside ourselves. In a world of endless shades of gray, how could we presume to claim to say what’s in error and what’s not? Because we have and teach the Scriptures. Not our own abilities, but God’s written word. As Robert Yarbrough comments, “On what basis does any pastor stand in undertaking such a daunting responsibility? It is the Scriptures that furnish guidance and divine authority for servants of that word to perform this necessary function” (The Letters to Timothy and Titus, 687).

Then: Envision the Path Forward

So, back to the sequence. Let’s say God’s word is being taught, and along the way error is exposed — now what? Then follows “correction.”

Correction (Greek epanorthōsis) moves from ideas to actions, from exposing false teaching to envisioning godly living and tactical hope. Correction charts a course for healing, for restoration, for reformation, shining light on the path that is an escape from the dark. According to Yarbrough, “Pastors do not merely rebuke: they restore and point in corrective directions.” Correction, says Philip Towner, is “the activity that follows” rebuke.

Hebrews 12:13 captures it, using the same root word (orth-, meaning straight): “make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.” Correction re-sets the broken bone, that it might properly heal. It’s a companion to reproof that “emphasizes the behavioral, ethical side” (Fee). While reproof brings error to light, correction directs sinners toward recovery. When errors come to light — when you realize, Oh no, I’ve been wrong! — correction is the next step.

Tactical as it is, such correction is no less than the full application of God’s grace in Christ — both outside of us in Christ and his work, and in us through his indwelling Spirit. God’s word both announces his forgiveness of our exposed sins, and summons us to practical holiness, empowered by the Spirit. Christian teaching of God’s full word prompts sinners to cast themselves on mercy, and learn to stand and walk in grace as well.

Finally: Train Them to Live Well

Last of the four, and a fitting conclusion to the didactic sequence, is training — a freighted concept in the ancient world and New Testament (Greek paideia). Not merely verbal, but tactical, this “corresponds to correcting, as its positive side” (Fee). Training involves conditioning the inner person through “inculcating the acts and habits that will reflect God’s own character (his ‘righteousness’) in relationship with his people” (Yarbrough, 688).

As Jesus spoke about his disciples being trained during their time with him (Matthew 13:52; Luke 6:40), so we mean to disciple our people toward Christian maturity. And maturity, in any sphere of human life, does not come automatically, but through intentional conditioning (Hebrews 5:14). Discipling actually does something; it changes the disciple, it reshapes the soul and its patterns of thought and delights — and greatly so over time. And such training is typically not easy but requires persisting in moments of discomfort, even pain, to endure on the path toward the reward set before us (Hebrews 12:11).

Training doubtless includes what we might more narrowly call discipline (Hebrews 12:3–11), even as we note well the difference between discipline as a means and punishment as an end (1 Corinthians 11:32). The whole process of pastoral training is comprehensive and constructive, not just responsive. It’s holistic, not just intellectual.

This training in righteousness — in righteous living, Christian behavior — begins in our teaching, but doesn’t end with our words. To train our people, we pastors must be among them, and have our people among us (1 Peter 5:1–2). Together as pastoral teams, we teach the church how to live from Scripture and then model Christian conduct in everyday life (1 Peter 5:3; Titus 2:7).

In the midst of caring for the whole flock — through teaching, counseling, and example — we also “entrust [the central truths] to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also” (2 Timothy 2:2). That is, we disciple and seek to invest in future leaders, vocational and nonvocational, who we hope will join us in the work and do the same. We labor to raise up men who will use God’s word well to teach, reprove, correct, and train in righteousness even long after we’re gone.

Where are we in missions to the Muslim world on this twentieth anniversary of 9/11? If we look only at surface realities, we may easily lose hope.

Just recently, of course, Afghanistan was completely overrun by the Taliban. Missionaries fled the country — if they could. America’s poorly considered and poorly executed departure resulted (and will result) in untold numbers brutalized at the hands of the Taliban. These tragedies mark an ironic and sad anniversary to 9/11, especially for Afghani Christians. Afghanistan alone seems to give reason to lose hope for missions in the Muslim world.

But Afghanistan is hardly alone. The Muslim world is known for head fakes of hope: the Arab Spring promised to move the Muslim world into a free society; the seeming openness of Saudi Arabia gave hope for a less medieval country; street protests in Iran offered light against the cruel and oppressive government. Yet all of these movements were crushed or discredited or snuffed out.

The list goes on: economic ruin in Lebanon, dystopian landscapes in Iraq, sectarian conflict in Egypt, refugee horrors in Syria, oppression of Christians in Turkey and Indonesia, ever-more-brutal sectarian conflict in Africa.

Even the most progressive and open countries of the Muslim world foster such unimaginable violations of human rights that most Westerners scarcely have a category to understand them or even believe them to be true. These realities make missionary-minded people feel like grasshoppers before giants.

Gardening One Fateful Day

I know such feelings well. I remember a day that threatened to crush my hope for missions in the Muslim world. What a day it was: clear skies and perfect temperature — just right for working in the yard. But my yard work wasn’t merely yard work; it was part of a vision for the Middle East.

We desired to do something not done before: develop student ministry on the new universities in the Arabian Peninsula. So a year before, after much research, we had set our course for Dubai, a gleaming modern city springing up out of the desert of the United Arab Emirates. We recruited a team of like-minded couples. They were skilled, gospel-centered, committed. We shared a long and deep friendship developed over the years in ministry together. We garnered financial support. We set up a business. We saw God’s favor all around us. I’m still astonished with how everything fell into place.

The last step before buying our plane tickets was to sell our house. “Let’s put it on the market mid-September,” I said. “How about the 12th?” my wife said. Done.

Thus, I was sprucing up the yard on 9/11 before hammering in a for-sale sign.

Falling from Buildings

That same clear-blue day, planes fell from the sky, ramming home death and destruction on unsuspecting victims going about their work.

I remember not quite believing the reports. I remember the rush to the TV and seeing the unbelievable. I remember the copper taste in my mouth as the world changed before our eyes. Not that we had any understanding of the implications, but we sensed it. The events made regular life feel small and insignificant — much like the discovery of a serious illness, or the sudden death of a close friend.

As I prayed with my young sons at bedtime that night, my oldest, fourteen at the time, said, “Daddy, I close my eyes, but I keep seeing people falling from buildings.” I so wished he hadn’t seen that. Yet it marked the horror of the day, and as I closed my eyes that night, I saw them too. I still do.

Following Jesus’s Words

As the story of 9/11 unfolded, it became apparent that this was a premeditated Islamic attack, carried out by men mostly from the United Arab Emirates. So we faced some questions. Chief among them was this one: “Since the terrorists came from the very place we intend to live, should we go at all?”

I felt the temptation to give in to fear and lose hope. And there were deeper questions.

Do we believe that Jesus has “all authority on heaven and on earth” (Matthew 28:18)?
Do we believe that, in the same breath he spoke of his power, he said, “Go” (Matthew 28:19)?
And most of all, do we cling to his promise to be with us always (Matthew 28:20)?

Yes, yes, and yes. The house sold on 9/13.

Later that year, we went to make our life in the Middle East, where we would live for the next twenty years through fears, war, threats, death, and great joy. We lived first in the Arabian Peninsula, and then later in Iraq.

It could not have been a better time to go. Going when circumstances looked so dark made a statement to our new neighbors: we weren’t afraid because we knew Jesus went with us. It also bore testimony that we loved the people of the Arabian Peninsula, and that we had something important to share with them.

And unquestionably, it has been the greatest privilege of our lives.

‘Give Me Nineteen Men’

We never expected to see the kind of fruit God granted.

On the plane to Dubai in 2001 (which was completely empty except for our family), I prayed, “O God, if you would allow me to see nineteen young men come to you, and have a heart for you, and be a part of more change than those nineteen young men who flew planes into buildings, I would be ever so grateful.”

“O you of little faith.” We will not know the number God provided this side of heaven, but it surpasses nineteen. Students came to faith — a trickle at first, then many, and then entire fellowships of believers, formed on campus. We discipled and evangelized and recruited more workers to join us. Many of those who came to faith on campus came on our staff team to be campus ministers themselves.

The staff and students were tightly integrated into churches that were rapidly being revitalized. We didn’t do all the work of church planting and revitalization, but our team helped see it happen. God was pleased to grant fruit that may grow until Christ’s return.

Reasons for Hope

So how about today? Where are we in Muslim missions as we mark the twentieth anniversary of 9/11?

To talk of the “Muslim world,” of course, is a bit misleading. Muslims do speak of an Ummah, much like Christians speak of the body of Christ or the church universal. But in reality, the Muslim world is an incredibly diverse global community that is often at odds. So, we can speak of the “Muslim world” only in the broadest of terms. With that said, a survey of this diverse world offers reasons for hope.

Indigenous Christians

First, many deeply committed indigenous Christians live all over the Muslim world. They give great hope for the future, and we have much to learn from them. Some come from historic Christian communities. Others have converted. Still others are members of evangelical churches. But for all, the boot of Islam rests on their necks. They need love and support from believers around the world.

Conversions

Perhaps the greatest myth held by Christians in the West is that Muslims don’t come to Jesus.

People in the Muslim world are much more willing to talk about spiritual life than those in the West. They are more willing to read the Bible with a Christian than unbelievers in the West are. They feel drawn to genuine Christian community.

“Perhaps the greatest myth held by Christians in the West is that Muslims don’t come to Jesus.”

Furthermore, the harsh application of Islam does not help its cause. Thoughtful Muslims see the brutality of ISIS and Boko Haram and the Taliban, and they want nothing to do with this form of traditional Islam — but where do they turn? In my experience, many Muslims who hear of the love of Christ find faith in Jesus compelling.

Many people from Muslim backgrounds come to faith in Christ. Their stories are not trumpeted on social media: the death penalty for conversion in some Muslim communities is real (as prescribed by the Quran). But those who think about missions in the Muslim world need to remember that God will call to himself those he wills as we are faithful to proclaim the gospel.

Cross

Finally, remember the way of the cross.

The Christian faith shines bright to a world in despair. We have much to say to people who are brutalized by wicked religious men, because Jesus was brutalized by wicked religious men. Who would have foreseen that the Roman gibbet — an instrument of torture and death — would be the very tool God would use to offer peace and love and forgiveness to an evil world? What men intended as supreme evil, God used for supreme good.

In the same way, the horror of 9/11 was an evil event, coordinated by evil actors perpetrated on unsuspecting people who did not deserve to die at the hands of such a wicked plan. Yet it too has been and will be used by God for his higher purposes.

Ways Forward

Over my twenty years in the Muslim world, I’ve also learned several lessons, lessons to know and remember when we think about missions in the Muslim world today.

Workers

There are more Christian workers in the Muslim world than ever before. Some are tentmakers, others are full-time workers with churches or agencies, some are on short terms, and many are with aid and relief NGOs. But the need is for even more Christian workers of all stripes in the Muslim world — and for all of us to be bold and clear about our commitment to Jesus and the gospel.

Do we have any choice but to obey the Great Commission? God does not rescind Matthew 28:18–20 in hard times. He never promises to spare us from difficulties. Actually, he promises difficulties. At the same time, he promises his presence.

“God promises difficulties. At the same time, he promises his presence.”

The fact is, if we wait to obey Christ’s commission until circumstances in the Muslim world are safe or calm, no one will ever go or speak. But we need to go and speak. We want to alleviate suffering, and even more importantly, we want to warn of the eternal suffering to follow death without Christ.

Endurance

The Muslim world needs mature believers, who have years of ministry experience, to come and stay for decades, not months. The great need is for missionaries to focus less on technique or the latest missiological trend, and rely more on the ability to adapt and grow and share our faith while overcoming obstacles in a cross-cultural environment. This comes only from experience and maturity.

Our team left for the Middle East when I was 45 years old. Our combined ministry experience totaled forty years. We were at the top of our game in ministry. Our combined insights on ministry and missions proved invaluable for the work.

Churches

Though many may come to faith in Christ, if they do not become part of a healthy church, we might as well throw them to the wolves. Yet indigenous healthy churches are a rarity in the Muslim world. So, planting healthy churches is a first priority.

Surprisingly to many in the West, the Quran actually prescribes that Christians be allowed to establish churches as “people of the book.” (Anyone who is in a position to do so should press this truth home with Muslim friends or Muslim government officials.)

By healthy church, I mean a cross-focused, gospel-proclaiming, Bible-drenched church of baptized believers, covenanted together to care for each other in gospel love as a display of God’s glory under the leadership and teaching of the elders, who studiously practice the commands of the Bible for the church.

Their Only Hope — and Ours

So, are these dark days for missions in the Muslim world?

Nothing could be further from the truth. There have never been more opportunities for the faithful to follow the Great Commission in the Muslim world. Does doing so involve sacrifice and risk? Of course — what important pursuit doesn’t? But is it worth it? Unquestionably.

The hope of the Muslim world is not economic development, or military might, or political will, or better education. The hope of the Muslim world is Jesus. He is the only one who can transform a world locked in darkness into a place of marvelous light.

For many Christians, the term Scripture memory means rote memorization of Bible verses. And this conjures up feelings of past failure (over how often they’ve tried and given up), or futility (over how little they recall of what they once memorized), or fear (over memories of having to publicly recite verses).

Who wants to pursue Bible memory if it means more failure, futility, or fear?

No one, if that’s what Bible memory means. But that’s not what it means. It means so much more than rote memorization. And it’s crucial that we see the bigger picture of Bible memory so we understand why it’s so important to the Christian life — why God repeatedly commands us to remember.

Here’s how I describe it:

Bible memory means stockpiling your God-given memory with God-breathed truth (2 Timothy 3:16) so that your God-given imagination can draw from it to construct a more accurate understanding of God-created reality, enabling you to live in “a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Colossians 1:10).

Let me try to briefly unpack this.

Your Amazing Memory

Your memory is amazing. If you’re thinking, “No, it’s not,” you’re probably overly aware of your memory weaknesses. And you probably measure yourself against people with extraordinary memories, like Charles Spurgeon, who, as J.I. Packer described, had “a photographic memory, virtually total recall, and as he put it ‘a shelf in my mind’ for storing every fact with a view to its future use” (Psalms, 4).

“Bible memory means so much more than rote memorization.”

But don’t let phenomenal memories blind you to the marvelous gift of God that is your own memory. Your ability to recall information to your conscious mind is just one function your memory performs. But it does far more than that.

Your memory is a vast library, far more sophisticated than the Library of Congress, where you’ve been collecting information since before your birth. In that three-pound lump of wet grey tissue inside your skull, in ways that remain largely mysterious despite wonderful recent advances in neuroscience, you have stored enormous amounts of information in the form of impressions, sensations, sights, sounds, smells, cause-and-effect observations, propositional statements, stories, and dreams, as well as real, unreal, or anticipated experiences that produce joy, sorrow, pleasure, anger, delight, horror, desire, fear, and on and on. And you draw from this mental library all the time, every day, consciously and unconsciously, to do everything you do.

And more marvelous still is how your memory works with all levels of your consciousness to allow you to imagine.

Why You Understand Anything

By imagination, I’m not talking about our ability to create fantasy worlds in our minds. I’m talking about our ability to draw from our vast store of information and construct an image (or model) of reality, and then draw implications for what it means. That is the primary function of our imagination. It allows us to conceptualize things we learn are true, but cannot see. Which is crucial for those of us called to “look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen” (2 Corinthians 4:18), to “walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).

And what empowers our ability to imagine is our memory.

Augustine, in his jaw-dropping meditations on the human memory in book 10 of his Confessions, explained it this way:

From [my memory] I can picture to myself all kinds of different images based either upon my own experience or upon what I find credible because it tallies with my own experience. I can fit them into the general picture of the past; from them I can make a surmise of actions and events and hopes for the future; and I can contemplate them all over again as if they were actually present. If I say to myself in the vast cache of my mind, where all those images of great things are stored, “I shall do this or that,” the picture of this or that particular thing comes into my mind at once. Or I may say to myself “If only this or that would happen!” or “God forbid that this or that should be!” No sooner do I say this than the images of all the things of which I speak spring forward from the same great treasure-house of the memory. And, in fact, I could not even mention them at all if the images were lacking. (215–16)

It’s our immense memory that provides our creative imagination the information from which to make sense of reality and draw the correct implications. And we can’t imagine anything that isn’t meaningfully present in our memory.

This is why Bible memory so important.

‘You Shall Remember’

Have you ever noticed how often the Holy Spirit inspired biblical authors to stress the importance of memory? Over and over God commands us to remember his word (for example, Numbers 15:40; Psalm 103:17–18; Isaiah 48:8–11; Luke 22:19; 2 Timothy 2:8). In fact, it would be worth a week of your devotional Bible reading to look up all the texts that mention these words as they relate to what God has revealed to us: memory, memorial, remember, remembrance, remind, call to mind, recall, forget, forgot, and forgotten.

To re-member is to call to mind something we’ve previously learned, something that exists in our memory. We can see such remembering in Lamentations 3:21–23, written while the author was experiencing terrible distress and suffering:

But this I call to mind,     and therefore I have hope:The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;     his mercies never come to an end;they are new every morning;     great is your faithfulness.

The truth that the author called up from his memory, which sustained him in great need, was something he learned prior to his need. And it was something he was learning in more profound ways at that very moment.

That’s Bible memory: calling to mind and keeping in mind biblical truth we’ve learned, so that it expands and deepens our understanding over time, and continues to shape the way we live.

Meditation’s Servant

That’s perhaps why the Bible doesn’t say much about rote memorization, but it says a lot about meditation, because meditation is the way we both learn and remember. If you take that week of devotional exploration, it will add to your understanding of how meditation relates to remembering if you look up all the texts that mention these words: meditate, meditation, understand, understanding, know, knowledge, wise, and wisdom.

Biblical meditation (or reflection, rumination, contemplation) takes place when our God-given imagination processes the God-breathed information we store in our God-given memory in an effort to understand, or further understand, God-revealed reality, so that we might live wisely. We can see this process at work in Psalm 119:97–99:

Oh how I love your law!     It is my meditation all the day.Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies,     for it is ever with me.I have more understanding than all my teachers,     for your testimonies are my meditation.

Implicit in this text on meditation (and most others in Scripture) is repetition. We all know from experience that repetition is what drives most information into our long-term memory. And this is the great value of memorization — it is a servant of meditation.

That’s certainly been my experience. Few practices have helped me meditate on Scripture more than memorization. The method I’ve found most effective has me repeating the same section of text over many days. This repetition not only has driven these texts into my long-term memory, but it has given my imagination the opportunity to ruminate on them.

As a result, I’ve gained a deeper, richer understanding of these texts and how they relate to other Scriptures and the world. That’s been the greatest benefit for me. Even though I don’t retain perfect conscious recall of many Scriptures I’ve memorized, meditating on them has woven their meaning and application into the fabric of my understanding. And they do come to mind much more readily, especially in times of need.

Keep the Goal in Mind

If Scripture memory has negative connotations for you, don’t think of it as memorizing Bible verses. Rather, think of it as

stockpiling your God-given memory with God-breathed truth (2 Timothy 3:16) so that your God-given imagination can draw from it to construct a more accurate understanding of God-created reality, enabling you to live in “a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Colossians 1:10).

“You won’t regret employing this very effective servant of meditation.”

It is a gift of God, a means of grace, to help you meditate on God’s word and bring reality to life.

As someone who struggles with memory weaknesses and who used to believe that Bible memorization wasn’t for me, I strongly recommend memorizing Scripture, especially larger sections. This is something you can do — you really can. You won’t regret employing this very effective servant of meditation.

For accurate understanding comes from careful meditation on true information. And accurate understanding results in our discerning right implications for what true information means. And when we live according to this understanding, the Bible calls it wisdom (Psalm 111:10).

This is the goal of Bible memory.