Written by Jonathan M. Threlfall |
Wednesday, August 14, 2024
Here we are—on the other side of the world and 2,000 years removed from the place and time of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. And on any given Sunday, untold millions gather to worship Christ and hear his teachings. Truly, this is Christ’s church. He is building it. And nothing will prevail against it!

This past July, my church graciously gave my family and me a month-long sabbatical. For four consecutive Sundays, I had the opportunity to visit four different churches from three different regions of the U.S.
I had one main criteria for deciding which church to attend: the church must take the Bible seriously.
With a little poking around on the internet, this was fairly easy to discover. Did the church’s website emphasize the timeless relevance of God’s Word or did it reflect current social trends? Was the most recent sermon an explanation and application of a Scriptural text or theme, or was it more of a self-help, motivational talk?
A church’s serious approach to the Bible was my one conscious criteria, but after visiting these churches, I discovered that four additional aspects of a church’s Sunday gathering mattered more to me than I initially realized.
1. Congregational Singing
First, I wanted a church where my family and I could participate in the worship by singing with the congregation.
The earliest Christians made singing an essential part of their worship gatherings. Writing to the Colossians in the middle of the first century, the Apostle Paul urged them to “let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” (Colossians 3:16).
Non-Christians took notice of this as well. The Roman official Pliny the Younger, in a letter to emperor Trajan, reported that Christians “were accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn and sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god.” It is true that other religions incorporate music into their liturgies; but in Christianity, music enjoys a uniquely place for unique reasons. Christians (normally) gather to sing together because of our belief that each Christian—not just an elite priesthood—has the privilege and responsibility of praising God in song.
All the churches we visited included musical worship, and I was happy to sing praise to God every time. But it is worth mentioning that in some gatherings, certain factors conspired to dampen congregational singing, despite the efforts of the worship leaders.
At times I was confused about whether the song was just for the worship leaders or for everyone. In one service, the stage arrangement and levels of lighting approximated a concert setting in which we were spectators rather than active participants. Some songs had melodies and rhythms that were just difficult to follow. And in still other cases, the lyrics had such a tenuous connection to Biblical doctrine that left me puzzled about what we were celebrating.
In most churches, however, the music was a highlight. The songs were carefully chosen to facilitate congregational singing, with lyrics that honored Christ and melodies that were both beautiful and easy to sing.
I want to be clear here that I’m not talking about a “traditional” versus a “contemporary” worship service, or for old hymns versus new songs. In fact, it hardly mattered at all whether there was a drum or organ, guitar or piano, old new songs or old songs. (In a couple services, I appreciated how the drums bolstered the energy of the congregational singing.) What mattered was whether the instruments—drum or organ, contemporary chorus or classic hymn, piano or guitar—melody, and lyrics were put to the service of congregational singing.
2. Worshipful Preaching
I’m an avid student of public speaking, and I know in theory that a person’s character (ethos) is often more persuasive than their content (logos). But I was surprised by how much I found myself saying silently to the preacher, “And who are you? Do you believe this? Does it matter to you?”
During one sermon, the pastor played a video clip of S. M. Lockridge’s well-known sermon “That’s My King.” I love that clip: the climactic cadence of the words, the resonance of Lockridge’s voice, and the passion of his delivery. “That’s my king!” Lockridge thunders, then earnestly asks, “Well, I wonder, do you know Him? Do you know Him?”
The audience applauded when the clip ended, and the pastor humbly remarked that Lockridge put it better than he himself could have. That was probably true, but I couldn’t help silently asking, “But do you feel the same way about King Jesus? I wonder, do you know Him?” As moving as Lockridge’s delivery was, how much better would it be for the pastor—in his unique but heartfelt way—to exalt Jesus as his king?
Read More
Related Posts:

Written by Nicholas T. Batzig |
Tuesday, April 26, 2022
On Judgment Day, our popularity or public accolades will not matter one iota. Rather, what will matter is how faithfully and diligently we sought to use the gifts God has given us for His glory and the edification of His people. 

We have all been conditioned by the celebrity culture in which we live to fall into the trap of believing that truly great Christian ministry should be placarded on a platform and subject to public accolade. This is one reason why so many have given their praises to celebrity pastors in America over the past fifty years. However, it is a yet more subtle evil in our hearts. We can almost unconsciously convince ourselves, “If God has given me gifts for ministry, then others should broadly recognize the gifts God had given me.” This phenomenon is not unique to modern American culture. It dwells deep in the hearts of men and women by nature. We all sinfully love attention and admiration. There is, therefore, a great danger for pastors and congregants alike to turn ministry into a show in order to receive praise from men.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned His disciples about allowing their ambition to drive them to seek the praise of men. He said, “Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 6:1). Regarding our Lord’s teaching, John Calvin noted,
“In all virtues the entrance of ambition is to be dreaded, and there is no work so laudable, as not to be in many instances corrupted and polluted by it. . .  there is no room to doubt, that the design is, to correct the disease of ambition, when, in doing what is right, we seek glory from men.”1
Seeking the praise of men is an equal opportunity evil. The longing to be recognized and praised in ministry is not only a danger for those who compromise God’s truth in their zeal to accommodate culture. It is far too easy for theological conservatives to raise this criticism about those engaged in virtue signaling on trending social issues. It is much more difficult for all of us to examine ourselves to discover whether or not we have fallen into the same snare of seeking praise from men. We can easily seek the praise and admiration of others for taking a stand for biblical truth in the face of moral deterioration in the society around us. After all, anyone can play to a fan base in the way in which they platform their stance on matters of theological and ethical truth.
This brings us to ask the question, “What is truly great ministry before God?” More often than not, great ministry in a local church is never celebrated or platformed; it is revealed in time spent in God’s word, counseling, and in prayer with the members when they are wandering, sick, hurting, or just carrying on in ordinary tasks of their lives. It is manifest in many unseen acts of service. It is carried out when a man or woman seeks to use the gifts God has given us for the building up on the members of the body of Christ. It is in everyone doing their part and being willing to serve from the shadows.
Read More
Related Posts:

Although the desire to protect, or overprotect, is in many ways understandable, it can have a devastating impact on a young child’s development—and, quite often, these effects never go away. Being an only child is not a “disease,” but it often comes with a whole host of largely unforeseen risks that most today would rather avoid talking about.

According to Jordan Peterson, the fact that the median age for new mothers in the United States is 30 should concern us all. The Canadian psychologist recently told Bill Maher that mothers today are the same age that grandmothers were just a few generations ago. In 1900, the median age of marriage for women in the U.S. was 21.9 years; the average age for childbirth, meanwhile, was 22 years. Though a slight exaggeration on Peterson’s behalf, his concerns are nevertheless warranted.
Naturally, as the age of first-time mothers continues to climb, fewer children will be born. This has given rise to a new trend of “one-and-done” parenting, which a stern-faced Peterson warned is a recipe for societal and moral decay. He points out that siblings help keep us grounded and prevent narcissistic impulses from exercising too much power. With fewer and fewer children growing up with brothers and sisters, Peterson thinks society is headed in a dark direction. He appears to be right.
The esteemed psychologist G. Stanley Hall once stated, “Being an only child is a disease in itself.” Though that’s a wild overstatement, there’s an important truth buried in Hall’s observation.
In fact, single-child families in the U.S. are fast becoming the norm. Some 50 years ago, there were 10 million of them—but by 2020, there were 14.4 million single-child families. Today, more than 1 in 4 married couples have one child.
Why is this the case?
We’re told that some are saddled with environmental guilt. They believe that due to the effects of climate change, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. To bring more than one child (or, in some cases, any children at all) into this world, they believe, is unforgivable.
Also, as Peterson mentioned, people are marrying much later in life. With age, so the saying goes, comes wisdom. However, age also brings infertility. In women by the age of 30 (the median age for new mothers), fertility starts to decline. By the age of 35, the decline accelerates.
Read More
Related Posts: