Things fall apart. It’s the second law of thermodynamics. It’s Romans 8:20 happening all around us. It’s a reality I increasingly experience in my body as I pass through the second half of middle age. Cracks permeate everything — including every church I’ve known.

Christian relationships encounter all the temptations common to man. That’s why Christian churches will rarely experience a kind of unity that knows no conflict or struggle.

But an absence of conflict and struggle is not what God has in mind for Christian unity in this age. As I’ve explained more thoroughly elsewhere, God gives unity as part of our inheritance in Christ (Ephesians 1:5, 11), but Christian oneness has a participatory dimension through which God accomplishes some glorious work in us and the world. So when God, through Paul, commands us to eagerly “maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3), he intends for this endeavor to be hard — for some very good reasons.

But more than that, God intends our churches to experience seasons of noticeable disunity. In fact, these seasons are necessary, because they bring to light some very important realities. The old hymn pinpoints it well:

Tho’ with a scornful wonderThe world sees her oppressed,By schisms rent asunder,By heresies distressed.Yet saints their watch are keeping;Their cry goes up, “How long?”And soon the night of weepingShall be the morn of song.

“An absence of conflict and struggle is not what God has in mind for Christian unity in this age.”

When it comes to Christian unity in this age of things falling apart, the reality we experience is “sorrowful” over our frequent factions, “yet always rejoicing” over the future grace of perfected unity set before us (2 Corinthians 6:10).

By Schisms Rent Asunder

Church schisms happen, as we all know. And they get a lot of bad press from Christians and non-Christians — often much deserved, as we also know. But schisms perform necessary functions in the church by revealing numerous areas requiring attention. Let me address three types of division in the church.

1. Fleshly Schisms

Paul illustrates the first type of schism in his blunt reproof of the Corinthian church:

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, for you are still of the flesh. For while there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not of the flesh and behaving only in a human way? (1 Corinthians 3:1–3)

Fleshly schisms plagued this church. They were divided into partisan loyalties and impressed by worldly wisdom and rhetoric (chapters 1–3), easily swayed by those who slandered Paul in his absence (chapter 4), tolerating shocking sexual immorality (chapter 5), suing each other in civil court (chapter 6), damaging each other’s faith over issues of Christian freedom (chapter 8), and more. Paul didn’t call them false Christians; he called them fleshly Christians — people governed more by carnal discernment and desires than by the Spirit in numerous areas.

“True Christian unity can be experienced and maintained only where Christlike love governs.”

True Christian unity can be experienced and maintained only where Christlike love governs — the kind Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13. Therefore, it’s a much-needed mercy to bring our unity-killing fleshliness into the light so we can see it and repent. And church schisms often perform that function.

2. Maturity Schisms

A second type of schism overlaps with the first, but its function is distinct enough to highlight. I call them maturity schisms.

Any healthy, evangelizing, disciple-making church will have differing levels of maturity among its members. And when people of diverse maturity levels come together, conflicts will erupt. Different life experiences, scriptural knowledge, and overall sanctification will stretch the church.

Differences in maturity run many different ways. A younger person might have more life experience in a certain area than an older person. Or someone who’s been a Christian a long time might be more governed by the flesh than a newer convert. Or a less formally trained saint might have a more profound, life-transforming grasp of Scripture than a seminary-trained saint. On top of that, some members who “ought to be teachers” may have regressed in maturity by habitually indulging sin, and so they need milk again (Hebrews 5:12).

Here’s my point: the maturity diversity that’s part of normal, healthy church life produces a complex relational recipe for a lot of misunderstanding and plenty of pride-fueled conflicts. Positively, this gives us all opportunities to learn from each other and grow in grace. Negatively, we don’t always seize these opportunities, and sometimes they grow into various schisms.

3. Necessary Schisms

Paul also addresses a third type of church schism in 1 Corinthians 11:19:

There must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized.

As Jesus taught in the parable of the weeds in the wheat (Matthew 13:24–30), our churches in this age will remain a mixture of Christians and non-Christians, no matter how seriously we take membership. Some weeds, thankfully, will become wheat by the end. But some are weeds, and often it’s schisms — factions — that reveal them.

And some of these weeds grow into a league of their own, as we know from urgent apostolic warnings of false teachers:

I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them. For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naive. (Romans 16:17–18)

You must remember, beloved, the predictions of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ. They said to you, “In the last time there will be scoffers, following their own ungodly passions.” It is these who cause divisions, worldly people, devoid of the Spirit. (Jude 17–19)

These false Christians are “fierce wolves” that prey on the flock of God, “men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them” (Acts 20:30), causing distress in our churches by their heresies. And one clear way we can recognize that they are not genuine is by the disunity they create due to “contrary doctrine” and “ungodly passions.”

Gifted Unifiers

In addressing church unity, Paul explains why godly, mature, loving, wise, Scripture-soaked, straight-talking leaders in various roles are such valuable gifts to any church. They

equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ. (Ephesians 4:11–13)

This is a hard calling, requiring proven character, wisdom, knowledge, and a track record of “walk[ing] by the Spirit” (Galatians 5:16). Therefore, church leaders must not be spiritually immature (1 Timothy 3:1–7) lest they pour the gasoline of fleshliness on the flames of emerging church schisms rather than the water of sacrificial love and godly wisdom.

Mature leaders foster cultures in their churches that help saints pursue “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” And they’re not naive. They know that factors like fleshliness, maturity diversity, and false Christians make this corporate pursuit hard. But they also know it’s necessarily hard. In this age.

‘How Long?’

But this age isn’t forever. An age approaches when weeds will not grow among the wheat, when our sinful flesh will no longer influence us, and when whatever different maturity levels may exist will no longer result in conflicts. “We [will] all [finally] attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13). We will all experience the unity that is our inheritance in Christ, and all be one, just as Jesus and the Father are one (John 17:21).

Till then, let’s not give up the fight to be one. In this fight for unity, we experience numerous aspects of the Father’s varied grace. Forced to wrestle with our own sin as we pursue unity, we experience much-needed sanctification by the Spirit. And as we struggle to attain and maintain unity, we discover and experience priceless dimensions of the love of Christ and display it for the world (John 13:35).

And our desire to experience the “not yet” promise of the completed, perfected, harmonious oneness of the body of Christ causes us to long, groan, and pray for the age to come. It keeps us saints watching and crying out, “How long, O Lord?” And the promised joy of perfected unity set before us fuels our hope that “soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song.”

I imagine the tears really came once he could finally get the words out.

How many times had he and his wife sat and cried together in silence? How many times had they had the same aching conversations? How many times had they talked about names? How many times had they held someone else’s newborn? How many times had they thought she might be pregnant? How many times had they asked for a child?

And here he was, buried in their arms. The dream they had stopped dreaming. The son they thought they’d never meet.

Like many first-time fathers (myself included), the man couldn’t find the words. In this case, however, he literally couldn’t speak. When Zechariah finally met his son, he could only ask for something to write on. He didn’t get to taste the boy’s name on his lips for eight whole days. I vividly remember meeting our firstborn. I can’t imagine feeling all I felt those days in silence. It might have killed me to try.

So why had God held Zechariah’s tongue? When the angel Gabriel came to tell Zechariah what God was about to do, the old man couldn’t bring himself to believe it. “How shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years” (Luke 1:18). The angel didn’t take kindly to his lack of faith.

I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day that these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time. (Luke 1:19–20)

Zechariah held his long-awaited son in silence because he had sinned against the God who had opened his wife’s womb. He — a priest — had dismissed what God had plainly said. And so, God gave him nine quiet, painful months in front of the mirror. Every time he tried to speak, he was reminded of how he had failed. His speechlessness said what no one else could hear: “I have sinned.”

And then, as easily as he had shut Zechariah’s mouth, God opened it again.

Taste of Forgiveness

If a man has been silent for nearly a year, when he finally does speak, everyone leans in to listen. So, when his prodigal tongue returned, what did Zechariah say? This is where the tears must have flowed.

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,     for he has visited and redeemed his peopleand has raised up a horn of salvation for us     in the house of his servant David. (Luke 1:68–69)

And then, a few verses later, he says directly to his son,

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;     for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,to give knowledge of salvation to his people     in the forgiveness of their sins,because of the tender mercy of our God. (Luke 1:76–78)

Had God’s mercy ever felt more tender, more real to Zechariah than when, holding his answered prayer, he could finally form words again? God forgives, son. God really forgives. He forgives sinners like me. He really is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. Go and tell them forgiveness is possible, because God has come.

Could it be any more fitting that the boy was named John — “graced by God”? And so Zechariah was. And so we are.

Who Can Forgive Sins?

Not long after, John’s long-awaited cousin was born. An even more miraculous child. Forgiveness incarnate.

As Jesus began his ministry, he drove a stake in the ground that he had come to declare and achieve forgiveness. As he was teaching and healing one day, a crowd gathered — a crowd so thick that a group of men couldn’t get close enough with their paralyzed friend. Determined, the men opened a hole in the roof and lowered their friend to where Jesus was. Of all the things Jesus could have said, notice how he responded: “When he saw their faith, he said, ‘Man, your sins are forgiven you’” (Luke 5:20).

The scribes and Pharisees who heard him were furious: “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (Luke 5:21). They asked the right question, but drew the wrong conclusion. Jesus corrected them, and in an unforgettable way.

“Why do you question in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” — he said to the man who was paralyzed — “I say to you, rise, pick up your bed and go home.” (Luke 5:22–24)

And the paralyzed man did what he had not done in who knows how long: “Immediately he rose up before them and picked up what he had been lying on and went home, glorifying God” (Luke 5:25). His words were beautiful, but he didn’t need to say a thing. His legs said it all. This man healed my failing body. Far more than that, he forgave my wayward soul. He forgives. God really forgives.

Forgive Us Our Sins

This forgiveness wasn’t held out to a few especially defiant sinners. This was the deep and daily need of every human soul. When his disciples asked him how to pray, Jesus’s response was strikingly brief, simple, and to the point. “When you pray,” Jesus told them, say this:

Father, hallowed be your name.Your kingdom come.Give us each day our daily bread,and forgive us our sins,     for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.And lead us not into temptation. (Luke 11:2)

Notice, Jesus prayed a lot, but he never had to pray that part of the prayer. No, he simply knew what everyone else needed most every day. Like him, they needed food for the day and protection from temptation; unlike him, they needed forgiveness for when they fell short. And fall we would, again and again (1 John 1:8). We were, each one of us, brought forth in iniquity and conceived in sin (Psalm 51:5). And while that old man died when we believed, we still have to face him every day.

Jesus never sinned, but he knew just how seductive sin could be (Hebrews 4:15). He knew how much sin would cost him. He came to cancel sin, and so he taught us to plead for forgiveness.

Forgiveness in Flesh and Blood

Until Good Friday, forgiveness had been a promise — real, but unseen. As the nails went in and the beams rose high, however, forgiveness broke into sight, painted in red for all to see. They seized him without warrant, tried him without justice, and beat him without mercy. And yet, even as they showered him with hostility, he prayed for them. And what did he pray? “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

And then, from the weakness and humiliation of the cross, with barely enough oxygen to breathe, he spoke that forgiveness into another longing soul. One of the criminals beside him said, “We are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong. . . . Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:41–42). Forgive me my sins. And with one of his very last breaths, Jesus replied, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). Has the possibility of forgiveness ever been clearer? Has the wonder of forgiveness ever been more blinding? From the just nails of torture to the just reward of paradise in just one sentence — forgiveness.

“God had always been forgiving people through faith; now he had the blood to prove it.”

And in the next moments, he finishes paying for that unthinkable pardon. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” (Luke 23:46). Dying didn’t give him the authority to forgive — he had that before the world began. No, dying justified what had been happening since the garden (Romans 3:25). God had always been forgiving people through faith; now he had the blood to prove it.

Through This Man

After Jesus rose from the grave, he appeared to his disciples and ate with them. As they talked, he gave them a tour through Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms to show them how every part pointed to him. And then he summed up the lesson, saying, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem” (Luke 24:46–47). Forgiveness promised. Forgiveness purchased. And now, forgiveness preached far and wide throughout the world.

And that’s exactly what the church did. When wind and fire came down from heaven at Pentecost, what did the apostle Peter say? “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit’” (Acts 2:38). Remember, Peter had tasted the riches of God’s mercy firsthand — “I do not know him. . . . I do not know him. . . . I do not know him.” And when, later, God sent him to the centurion to finally and fully welcome the nations into the church, what did he say then? “To him all the prophets bear witness that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name” (Acts 10:43). And when Paul boldly stood in the synagogue in Antioch, telling Jews to repent and turn to Christ, what did he say? “Let it be known to you therefore, brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you” (Acts 13:38). The whole city gathered the next week to hear more. Could this forgiveness be true?

“In a world entrenched in sin and shame, the church became a lighthouse of forgiveness.”

In a world entrenched in sin and shame, the church became a lighthouse of forgiveness. Thousands traded the burden of guilt for the joy of rest. Countless millions have joined them since. Like Zechariah, they’ve been confronted with the horror of their sins against God. They’ve tasted its bitter consequences. And they’ve found forgiveness — lying in a manger, laboring in Nazareth, lifted on a cross, leaving the grave, and now Lord over all.

When he was born, forgiveness. When he died, forgiveness. When he rose, forgiveness. When he ascended into heaven, forgiveness. And in his wide and wondrous wake, forgiveness. Do you still wonder, this Christmas, if you could be forgiven?

The year is 1875. You’re a second-year student at the Pastors’ College. It’s been a long week of rigorous lectures and study on theology, mathematics, literature, rhetoric, biblical languages, and more. You’ve recently launched an evangelistic mission in a needy district of East London, so many of your evenings have been occupied. And as a member of the Metropolitan Tabernacle, you have meetings to attend and people to disciple. But now, it’s Friday afternoon, your favorite time of the week. Why?

Because this is the time you get to hear from Charles Spurgeon up close.

You’re chatting with your classmates when Spurgeon walks in the classroom with a hearty greeting and a large stack of books in his arms. There he is: the most famous preacher of the century. And yet here, he’s simply your pastor. After a word of prayer and brief preliminaries, Spurgeon begins to work through his stack. Out of his own personal reading, here are books he thinks future pastors should know about: new publications, classic works, Bible commentaries, and works of theology, philosophy, hymnody, science, and all kinds of other genres. Books worthy of investment are commended, while more dubious works are properly cautioned. You’ve always enjoyed this time and taken careful notes. Through Spurgeon’s recommendations, you’ve built a theological library and have been introduced to some of your favorite authors.

Then comes the highlight. As a father among his sons, Spurgeon delivers an hour-long lecture on some aspect of Christian ministry: preaching, sermon preparation, personal holiness, dealing with criticism, praying publicly, and much more. But these aren’t dry, academic lectures. No, these are warm, personal, sometimes hilarious, always instructive talks, drawing from Spurgeon’s personal experience and applying the wisdom and truths of Scripture to the work of a pastor. Soon you will be sent off into the difficult work of pastoral ministry. But the memory of these Friday-afternoon lectures will stay with you for many years to come.

It is from these lectures, given by Spurgeon at the Pastors’ College, that we have his classic work Lectures to My Students.

Golden Counsels

There are four series (or volumes) associated with Lectures. The first contains fourteen lectures, including some of Spurgeon’s most famous lectures on the life of the pastor. These include “The Minister’s Self-Watch,” “The Preacher’s Private Prayer,” and “The Minister’s Fainting Fits.” Several of these lectures also deal with Spurgeon’s favorite topic: preaching. From choosing a text to the importance of the voice, to the danger of wrongly spiritualizing a text, these lectures contain all kinds of practical wisdom from the Prince of Preachers.

The second series contains ten more lectures on an assortment of ministry-related topics, like pastoral growth, preaching for conversions, and dependence on the Holy Spirit. The third series, originally known as The Art of Illustration, contains seven lectures mostly focused on preaching and teaching. Here, Spurgeon teaches on the importance of illustrations and anecdotes, providing wisdom for how to use them and where to find them.

The fourth and final series, also known as Commenting and Commentaries, contains two lectures, one on the importance of “commenting” (public Scripture reading), and the other on the use of commentaries. The rest of the volume offers a catalog of commentaries. Amazingly, Spurgeon provides brief and insightful comments for 1,429 commentaries, on every book of the Bible, covering almost four centuries of Christian scholarship. This was a remarkable achievement in his day, and it stands as a reminder to preachers today of the importance of study.

Each of the four volumes is worth reading. (Keep in mind that modern publications of Lectures to My Students will usually publish Commenting and Commentaries separately.) I find that Spurgeon’s writing style continues to translate well into our day, so I would recommend finding an unabridged edition, with minimal (or no) modernization to the language. For those who are on a budget or prefer eBooks, PDF scans of Lectures can also be found online. At Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary’s Spurgeon Library, we hope to make scans of Spurgeon’s own copies available on Spurgeon.org in the coming year.

Why should a pastor or church leader read these lectures? Consider three reasons.

Hard-Won Wisdom

First, these lectures arise out of Spurgeon’s own pastoral experience, including the hardships of ministry. If you are a pastor and you have not yet experienced “fainting fits” or the spiritual discouragement that can come over pastors in their ministry, you would do well to read that lecture to prepare.

And if you are currently in such a dark experience, Spurgeon can become a pastoral mentor for you in navigating your way through it. Similarly, pastors would do well to read “The Blind Eye and the Deaf Ear” with careful attention. As a pastor of a church with a membership of over five thousand, here was Spurgeon’s counsel on how to wisely filter and respond to gossip, criticism, conflicts, and other pastoral difficulties. The wisdom here may prove crucial for a pastor’s survival in the ministry.

It’s easy to admire Spurgeon’s many accomplishments, but it would be wrong to think that his pastoral experience was simply one triumph after another. Rather, Spurgeon knew intimately the financial issues, health challenges, spiritual exhaustion, criticisms, and all kinds of other trials that pastors face. These lectures contain the wise counsel of one who persevered in faithfulness amid those trials.

Help for Preachers

Second, Lectures contains some of Spurgeon’s best teaching on preaching, presenting both a theological understanding of the role of preaching, as well as practical instruction on preaching itself. At the heart of Spurgeon’s philosophy of ministry was the preaching of the word, because God’s word is what saves sinners and unites the church. He often said to his students, “The pulpit is the Thermopylae of Christendom: there the fight will be lost or won.” If you’re a pastor who is growing weary of preaching and beginning to lose heart in that work, these lectures may very well be the encouragement you need to see afresh the importance of your preaching ministry.

“At the heart of Spurgeon’s philosophy of ministry was the preaching of the word.”

But how can you grow in your preaching? One way is by learning from other preachers. In these lectures, Spurgeon also gets into the mechanics of preaching and provides all kinds of practical wisdom. When was the last time you thought about the role of posture and gestures in your preaching? How can you make your sermons more interesting through the intentional use of illustrations? Are there ways you can improve your sermon-writing process? Spurgeon addresses all these topics and more. Many pastors today lack mentors to help them grow in their preaching. But in Lectures, pastors have an opportunity to be discipled in their preaching by the Prince of Preachers.

Our Glorious Call

Finally, in Lectures Spurgeon reminds us of the glorious call of pastoral ministry. As engaging, humorous, and illustrative as these lectures are, they also hold serious reminders of our weighty calling as Christian ministers. The first three lectures of the first volume — calling ministers to holiness, to a proper view of their calling, and to private prayer — could be consulted annually by pastors in self-examination. In a day when many preachers are marked by vanity, worldliness, and celebrity, Spurgeon presents to us a vision of the pastorate that is sober, self-controlled, and centered on Christ.

“Spurgeon presents to us a vision of the pastorate that is sober, self-controlled, and centered on Christ.”

Beyond the pastor’s private life, Spurgeon also presents a vision for long-term faithfulness. The lectures on ministerial progress, earnestness, and dependence on the Holy Spirit provide a roadmap for a lifetime of faithful ministry. Many today easily get caught up in church-growth metrics and social-media influence; Spurgeon calls pastors to preach the word, work hard, remain prayerful, and entrust the results to God. In all these lectures, he presents a vision of pastoral ministry that conducts itself in the fear of God and in love for his people.

Even pastors need mentors, and who else better to learn from than a fellow pastor who served faithfully in his church for 38 years and saw God work mightily through his ministry? So grab yourself a copy. Even better, find other pastors and church leaders to work through it together. And return to those warm Friday-afternoon lectures to hear from Spurgeon himself.