In The Devil’s Dictionary, the satirist Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914) defined dishonesty as “an important element of commercial success” (p. 85).
While this definition is cynical, it’s not wrong. One can only wonder what Bierce would say if he witnessed the state of today’s church.
You don’t have to look far to see dishonesty in the church. In the US, concert music and TED-style talks take the place of reverent worship and faithful biblical exposition. Across the globe, roaming “apostles” skip from one downtrodden, developing nation to another, lining their pockets with each staged signs-and-wonders crusade.
But the problem isn’t only external—it’s not just the bad guys and heretics out there. The problem lurks in our own hearts.
It’s the small-town pastor who, rubbing shoulders with bigshots at a conference, puffs his chest and rounds up when asked about his church’s weekly attendance. It’s the nonprofit that parrots the world’s marketing lingo of inclusiveness and “justice” to hit that Gen Z target audience. It’s the overseas worker tempted to cook the books on the “decisions for Christ” column in the annual report—after all, who would know?
Few of us are above these temptations. We must diagnose the problem. But we must also take great care to not misdiagnose it.
One common diagnosis is pragmatism.
We are too utilitarian—we do what we think works. We tweak our language to avoid gospel offense. We offer entertainment because it seems to grow the church, reasoning that more bodies in pews means more changed lives. We focus on results more than faithfulness.
Worldly, pragmatic methods in ministry are simply rotten fruit on a sickly vine.
But a missionary friend of mine recently challenged this diagnosis. “Pragmatism isn’t the problem,” he told me. He has seen similar problems firsthand in the Islamic world, where pioneering missionaries in risky countries, backed by enthusiastic supporters, face daily temptation to exaggerate the fruit of their efforts.
I asked him what he thinks the real problem is. “Fear of man,” he replied.
He pinpointed the root issue as the desire to be well-regarded. Like the Jewish leaders of Jesus’ day, those in ministry who justify dishonesty and compromise the Lord’s work love “the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God” (John 12:43). Worldly, pragmatic methods in ministry are simply rotten fruit on a sickly vine.
If my missionary friend is right, then our ailment goes far deeper than our North American obsession with results. Idolatry of human approval affects all of us to some extent—even we, who oppose using shrewd, worldly marketing tactics to grow our ministries. At times, we all prefer an “atta boy” or “atta girl” to “well done, good and faithful servant” (Matt. 25:23). We covet favor with the guild or with teammates above the unpopularity produced by fidelity to Scripture.
Let’s assume my friend is right. What do we do?
In C.S. Lewis’ lecture “The Inner Ring,” addressed to a group of young, up-and-comers, he expounds the danger of our lust to belong to an elite in-group:
“The quest of the Inner Ring will break your hearts unless you break it. But if you break it, a surprising result will follow. If in your working hours you make the work your end, you will presently find yourself all unawares inside the only circle in your profession that really matters. You will be one of the sound craftsmen, and other sound craftsmen will know it. This group of craftsmen will by no means coincide with the Inner Ring or the Important People or the People in the Know. It will not shape that professional policy or work up that professional influence which fights for the profession as a whole against the public: nor will it lead to those periodic scandals and crises which the Inner Ring produces. But it will do those things which that profession exists to do and will in the long run be responsible for all the respect which that profession in fact enjoys and which the speeches and advertisements cannot maintain.”
It is one thing for us to reject worldly pragmatism in ministry. But we should not commend ourselves unless we also wage war against our own lust to belong to the in-group—whether to the pragmatic mainstreamorto its ranks of critics.
For the missionary, pastor, or church planter, faithfulness in ministry may mean displeasing a colleague, a mentor, or a training group that embraces more pragmatic methods. If our solitary aim is to please him who enlisted us (2 Tim. 2:4), we will do well.
Faithfulness is its own reward.
May we fear God more than men.

This article was originally published here

This article is part 7 in a series by Tom Nettles on Remembering Jesus Christ. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6).

Possibly, the earliest post-Pauline, post apostolic literature that we have is in the letter of Clement of Rome to the Church in Corinth. Most likely this was written around 95-96 A. D, and persons appointed by the apostles still held office in the church but were being pressed out of leadership by a younger generation. Clement wrote, “For we see that you have removed certain people, their good conduct notwithstanding, from the ministry which had been held in honor by them blamelessly.” [Michael Holmes, Ed. and Rev. The Apostolic Fathers, second edition, Baker Book House, 1989, 53] Clement lamented that because of one or two persons, the ancient church of the Corinthians was “rebelling against its elders” thereby heapjng “blasphemies upon the name of the Lord” and by their “stupidity” were creating danger for themselves. [Holmes, 55] 

In order to counter this egregious violation of Christian fraternity and even apostolic authority, Clement reached deeply into the theology of the Bible as seen most clearly in the condescension of Christ to encourage that church to correct their error. In the process of his argument, we find evidence of strong development of a comprehensive biblical theology, trinitarian theology, and the centrality of Christ’s having assumed human nature to bring to fruition the eternal purpose of God toward his elect. The reality of the full human nature of Christ is one of the fundamental assumptions of the argument. A creedal orderliness is present in the structure and content of this letter.

The basic Trinitarian structure of the implicit creed surrounded by certain affirmations of the peculiar operations of each person of the Trinity may be seen in several passages in Clement’s sober and stately style. Clement counters their pride by calling attention to examples of great humility in Scripture, punctuating the entire discussion with Christ’s example. The emphases on Christ’s work in his human nature are prominent. Formerly in the early days of the church, not only were they blessed with an “abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit, but they gave heed to Christ’s words, stored them in their hearts, “kept his sufferings before your eyes.” [29] Again, to counter the recent surge of haughty self-importance, “Let us fix our eyes on the blood of Christ and understand how precious it is to his Father.” [32] Clement looked at Rahab’s scarlet thread as “making it clear that through the blood of the Lord redemption will come to all who believe.” [35] Clement quotes Isaiah 53:1-12 as an illustration of his observation, “The majestic scepter of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, did not come with the pomp of arrogance or pride … but in humility, just as the Holy Spirit spoke concerning him.” [36] He then summarized his point by saying, “If the Lord so humbled himself, what should we do who through him have come under the yoke of his grace?” [37, 38] 

Clement urges peace and harmony in the church, because peace and harmony are “especially abundant to us who have taken refuge in his compassionate mercies through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Again, Christ in his humanity has become the guarantee that God’s purpose of blessing his people will certainly come to fruition: “Let us consider, dear friends, how the Master continually points out to us the coming resurrection of which he made the Lord Jesus Christ the firstfruit when he raised him from the dead.” [42]. Looking at Jacob as a man of blessings, Clement affirms, “From him comes the Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh.” [45] Our salvation is, in fact, “Jesus Christ, the High Priest of our offerings, the Guardian and Helper of our weakness.” [48] In encouraging and commending love as the cement for true fellowship, harmony, and humility in the church, Clement again pointed to the condescension and love of Christ in taking our nature to gain for us what we lost in our foolish pride: “Because of the love he had for us, Jesus Christ our Lord, in accordance with God’s will, gave his blood for us, and his flesh for our flesh, and his life for our lives.” [56] Such a strong emphasis on substitution would be irrelevant, in fact impossible, apart from The Son of God’s coming by true human birth in a true human nature.

 Always resident in each argument of the centrality of Christ in his true fleshly suffering is a reminder of the trinitarian arrangement of gospel truth. “The apostles received the gospel for us from the Lord Jesus Christ; Jesus the Christ was sent forth from God. So then Christ is from God, and the apostles are from Christ. Both, therefore, came of the will of God in good order. Having therefore received their orders and being fully assured by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ and full of faith in the Word of God, they went forth with the firm assurance that the Holy Spirit gives, preaching the good news that the kingdom of God was about to come.” [Holmes, 51.]

Knowledge of these things does not come through any private intuition but from the very oracles of God,–“For thus says the Holy Word” [59]. The apostle Paul already had written to this church about their tendency to factions—“Truly he wrote to you in the Spirit about himself and Cephas, and Apollos.” Rather than being contentious toward one another, they should be “contentious and zealous” about the “things that relate to salvation.” For these things “You have searched the Scriptures which are true, which were given by the Holy Spirit; you know that nothing unrighteous or counterfeit is written in them.” [53] By them the church should know that only the ungodly thrust out the holy. As Clement multiplied the scriptural examples of God’s blessings to the humble, and the close alignment that humility and holiness have with each other, he inserted, “For you know, and know well, the sacred Scriptures, dear friends, and you have searched into the oracles of God. We write these things, therefore, merely as a reminder.” [57]

Clement regularly points, not only to the voluntary humility of Jesus Christ for our salvation, but to the final glory of Christ. The harmony of the entire creation shows God’s goodness to all things “but especially abundantly to us who have taken refuge in his compassionate mercies, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the majesty for ever and ever. Amen.” [40]. Election moves logically toward a display of Christ’s glory: “This declaration of blessedness was pronounced upon those who have been chosen by God through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom be the glory for ever and ever. Amen.” [56]. Clement includes election, trinitarian perichoresis as actuating the substance of faith, and biblical authority in a statement of Christ’s salvation as an exhibition of the glory of the Father: “For as God lives, and as the Lord Jesus Christ lives, and the Holy Spirit who are the faith and the hope of the elect, so surely will the one who with humility and constant gentleness has kept without regret the ordinances and commandments given by God be enrolled and included among the number of those who are saved through Jesus Christ, through whom is the glory to him for ever and ever. Amen.” [61]. 

These issues are related again in a prayer of Clement, that “the Creator of the universe may keep intact the specified number of his elect throughout the whole world, through his beloved servant Jesus Christ, through whom he called us from darkness to light, from ignorance to the knowledge of the glory of his name.” [Holmes, 61] Clement closes a long prayer by again referring to Jesus Christ as the channel of glory to the Father: “You, who alone are able to do these and even greater good things for us, we praise through the high priest and guardian of our souls Jesus Christ, through whom be the glory and the majesty to you both now and for all generations and for ever and ever. Amen.” [63]. Finally, Clement glorifies God who “chose Jesus Christ and us through him to be his own special people,” looking upon such a relation as foundational to our being “pleasing to his name through our high priest and guardian Jesus Christ, through whom be glory and majesty, might and honor to him, both now and for ever and ever. Amen.” [64].

Clement remembered Jesus Christ. He saw the incarnation of Christ, his taking to himself our flesh and nature, as the model for all Christian humility and consequent unity. Jesus consummates the decree of election by shedding his blood as high priest and rising from the dead as the firstfruit for our redemption. Through him, the elect will see and find infinite joy in an eternal vision of the glory of God.

This article is part 7 in a series by Tom Nettles on Remembering Jesus Christ.

Join us at the 2024 National Founders Conference on January 18-20 as we consider what it means to “Remember Jesus Christ” under the teaching of Tom Ascol, Joel Beeke, Paul Washer, Phil Johnson, Conrad Mbewe and Travis Allen.

The Importance of Confessing One Will in God

The inspired creedal imperative, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one!” is not merely an appeal to ethical monism—meaning that we Christians are to worship the one true God alone. The oneness of God in Deuteronomy 6:4 speaks to the metaphysical reality that separates or distinguishes Him from idols and the false gods of the nations: His simplicity. The Second London Confession of Faith elucidates this notion of God’s simplicity by writing, “The Lord our God is but one… without body, parts, or passions.” However, before we can understand what it means for God to be one or simple, we must first understand what it means to be a creature.

Creatures are composed of what we are (i.e., an essence) and that we are (i.e., our existence). However, the dilemma is that creatures cannot be the cause of their existence, for no essence can precede and be the cause of its existence (e.g., Lily did not bring herself into existence). Consequently, the cause of creaturely existence must be found outside the domain of creation, and its existence must not be caused—it must be the fount of existence. If one were to turn to philosophical demonstration to discover such a cause, one could postulate the existence of an uncaused transcending cause of all things whose existence is of itself (i.e., self-subsisting being). But of more sure footing for the believer, Scripture reveals that this simple or non-composed Creator, whose existence is from Himself and not another, is the One whom Exodus 3:14 calls “I AM WHO I AM.” Or, as illustrated in the burning bush, it is I AM whose fire or existence does not depend on another but whose life burns from Himself.

Turning our attention to God’s will, its relevancy when considering His oneness lies in preserving monotheism. To highlight this concern, we must consider what establishes the ability to will. Put into question form: “What provides a person with the power to will compared to an inanimate creature like a rock?” The simple answer is its nature. A creature’s nature determines what powers it can exercise. For instance, a bird’s nature gives rise to the possibility of flying, unlike a human’s nature. Similarly, a creature possesses the ability to will if its nature provides the capacity of said power.

When considering the philosophical and historical articulation of the will, it has typically been distinguished between the sensible (or lower) appetite and the intellectual (or higher) appetite. The sensible will desires goods based on sensory perception (sight, hearing, taste, touch, etc.). For example, it is good for the nature of an animal to eat; thus, when said good is presented to it via the senses, the will is aroused and motivates the animal to pursue it.

In contrast, although man possesses these same sensible desires of the will as some other creatures, he also exercises dominion over these sensible desires by a higher power of the soul that distinguishes him from the rest of creation: reason. In other words, although all things are created in the likeness of God—because effects in some way reflect their cause—Scripture asserts that man is created in the image and likeness of God (Gen. 1:27), and what makes man in God’s image is his power or capacity to reason (i.e., the intellect). Consequently, for man, it is the intellect that guides the will. One could even say that every person has the power to will because every person possesses the power of intellect, which is able to perceive things as good in themselves, and, in turn, the will is drawn out to possess and rest in those goods.

Scripture asserts that man is created in the image and likeness of God, and what makes man in God’s image is his power or capacity to reason.

Furthermore, the intellect can distinguish between lesser and higher goods and choose the higher, although it may cause harm or difficulty. The preeminent example of man deferring the lower will’s desire for a greater good was our Lord when He cried out in the garden of Gethsemane, “Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless, not My will, but Yours, be done” (Verse reference). For our Lord, it was a good to preserve life, but it was a greater good to obey the will of His Father.

Correspondingly, because God is an intellectual Being, this entails that He, too, possesses a will. In simpler terms, it is the nature of divinity to will. However, this does not entail that God wills as man does: that some outside good moves His will. If this were so, God would be susceptible to passions and mutability as man, thus consigning Him to the order of creaturely being as its chief Being. Moreover, neither can we say that God’s will is a property of divinity, as it is a property that a person exercises; instead, following the maxim that “all that is in God is God,” so, too, is God’s will one with His essence.

At this juncture, we arrive at a difficulty after contrasting God’s will with the creature’s will. Specifically, how do we reconcile God’s one will with the three divine persons? Or we could ask: “Does experience not testify that each person has their own will; hence, should not each divine person also?” To answer, we must first consider how each human person possesses their own will because each is an individuated instance of humanity: human nature, not personhood, gives rise to the power to will. However, this metaphysical sequence breaks down for the divine persons because each divine person is not a separate individuated instance of divinity. Instead, “A divine person is nothing but the divine essence . . . subsisting in an especial manner.”[1] In other words, the Father is the principle or fount of divinity as the unbegotten One; the Son’s divinity is from the Father as His begotten Word; and the Spirit’s divinity is from the Father and Son as Love proceeding. Therefore, because each person possesses the entirety of the divine essence according to their particular manner of subsistence, each divine person also possesses the one will of God.

If one were to deny that each divine person possesses the one divine will according to their particular manner of subsistence by positing multiple wills in God (i.e., one will for each divine person), then what one would run the risk of is seriously undermining their commitment to monotheism. The reason is that, as shown above, the ability to will is rooted in nature. Hence, if there are multiple wills in God, this would metaphysically entail that there must be multiple natures. Consequently, if there are multiple natures because there are multiple wills, the best one could then conceive the Trinity as is a society of “Gods” in unison or bound by some overarching principle. However, Christians do not believe the Lord to be one in unison of wills as a society of divine persons. Instead, we confess God to be one in Being and will, with each divine person possessing the one divine nature and will according to their particular manner of subsistence.

In conclusion, the consideration of the one will of God is a notion that safeguards Christians from practically inferring polytheism. Moreover, it is the one will of God that we can find our rest in because God is not like man that He should change His mind. In other words, because God’s will is one with His essence, this entails that the very divine will that chose us, that redeemed us by sending God the Son to die for sinners such as us, and that promises to present us before Himself as holy and blameless in glory, is a will that cannot change. Therefore, with this blessed assurance that God’s will for our salvation lies in His immutable nature, we can confidently strive on our journey to Zion above to follow our Lord’s words and example, “Not My will, but Yours, be done” (Luke 22:42).

[1] John Owen, Communion with the Triune God (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2009), 2:407.