We live in times of polarization and fragmentation. In many places, the ties that have historically bound societies together are coming apart.

Our own society has been brewing a strong and growing distrust of everything under the sun. We don’t trust many of our elected leaders and government officials. We don’t have high confidence in our medical and health authorities. We have doubts about the agendas and intentions of large corporations. Our suspicions about media and news outlets have reached new heights. We have been let down by our educational systems at nearly every level. And the church has not been immune to our cynicism. We have even approached the bride of Christ with wariness and uncertainty.

All this fear is exacerbated, of course, by the Internet and the 24/7 news cycle. Social media, in particular, amplifies our distrust and rewards our outrage. As a result, many of us are less happy, less trusting, and more angry than ever. Division and angst have become like oxygen. Over time, it can feel like any remnant of hope might be slowly eroding, like a sandcastle at high tide.

Painful Polarity in the Pews

As I said, the church has not been immune to the polarization. Congregations have had to navigate higher levels of conflict, controversy, and contentiousness. The pain of divisions in our pews is disheartening. Here we are, the blood-bought people of God, united by Christ, but divided over so much else. This state of affairs has some of us wishing we were still arguing over whether to sing contemporary worship songs or what color carpet to lay in the sanctuary.

As a pastor of a church, a church I love to pastor, I would personally be glad to never have to talk about COVID, vaccines, social distancing, and the efficacy of masks ever again. While it was a privilege to shepherd our people through a pandemic compounded by political and social turmoil, it was also punishing at times. I’ve now added “global-health crisis,” “mass protests and riots,” and “the threat of nuclear war” to my list of “things I never learned in seminary.”

It’s good to be reminded that polarization in the church is not new. In fact, it’s a problem as old as the church. Already in Acts 6, the Greek-speaking Jews complained that their widows were being neglected (Acts 6:1). Paul admonishes another church for its divisions, quarreling, jealousy, and strife (1 Corinthians 1:10–11; 3:4). They found superiority in their allegiances to either Paul, or Apollos, or Peter, forgetting that Christ is all in all.

Again and again, through Scripture and church history, when sinful people consistently gather, they consistently sin against one another and eventually turn on one another.

Paradox of Christ

The writer of Hebrews tells us to cast off our sin that clings so closely, and instead look to Jesus, “the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:1–2). By looking to Jesus — and his paradoxical qualities — we find help to navigate our polarized age.

“Jesus doesn’t fit into any of our neat and tidy categories or tribes.”

Jesus doesn’t fit into any of our neat and tidy categories or tribes. He is pro-justice, pro-mercy, and pro-life. Jesus is gentle and lowly in heart, and he also will return to make war against his enemies. He is the meekest man that ever walked on earth, yet he will strike down the rebellious nations and tread the winepress of God’s wrath (Revelation 19:11–15). He will save to the uttermost with unparalleled grace and mercy, and he will rule with a rod of iron.

Jonathan Edwards (1703–1758) draws out Jesus’s unique and paradoxical qualities in a famous sermon: “The Excellency of Christ.” Jesus is both lion and lamb. He possesses lionlike qualities: ferocious, powerful, regal, and appropriately terrifying. He is full of power, glory, and dominion. A lamb is quite the opposite: gentle, vulnerable, an animal of prey. How can Jesus be both? How is he both judge of all creation and a friend of sinners? How is he both priest and atoning sacrifice? How is he both strong and gentle, worthy and lowly, infinitely holy yet merciful toward his enemies?

This is the wonderful paradox of Jesus. He holds together seemingly opposite excellencies in one God-man.

His Excellencies Undo Us

Typically, we gravitate to the ways Jesus is more like us; we align with those excellencies more natural to our personality and wiring. Who he is, however, admonishes us all to not be one-sided or one-dimensional. Jesus’s example and teaching cuts both ways, admonishing us and encouraging each of us to be more Christlike than we are.

For example, tender believers may be quick to revel in the compassion of Christ: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). They may resonate deeply with Jesus’s weeping outside Lazarus’s tomb (John 11:35). Meanwhile, zealous-for-truth believers might admire his woes to the Pharisees. They may resonate more with Jesus’s rebuke of Peter: “Get behind me, Satan!” (Matthew 16:23).

Those of us who are naturally inclined toward compassion and sympathy need to learn from his courageous conviction. We need to beware of minimizing the whole counsel of God to avoid hurting someone’s feelings or drawing harsh criticism. We will want to unashamedly portray the truth of Christ accurately — all of it — even as we comfort and care for hurting people. And we might be slow to condemn those contending for truth in the public square who don’t do it exactly the way we would. The gospel will necessarily offend some, and standing for truth in a world set against the truth will require courage and boldness, and may even appear quarrelsome in some eyes.

The same is true for those who speak the truth more freely. Some of us are quite gifted at saying the hard thing, but need to grow in doing so with love. If we can speak with the tongues of men and angels, but have not love, we are noisy gongs and clanging cymbals (1 Corinthians 13:1). We will pray for greater compassion and sympathy, being quick to listen and weep with those who weep. Proverbs reminds us, “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger” (Proverbs 15:1). Do our words, and the hearts behind those words, consistently reflect the priorities of Christ? We want to become the kind of paradox that we treasure and follow in Jesus.

As you study him, watch where you lean and where you lean away, and then deliberately lean into the diverse excellencies of Christ. Find courage in his example. Where you are prone to wander, work to realign yourself more and more to our North Star.

Truly Great Excellencies

Excellencies is an old-fashioned word meant to ascribe extreme value to someone or something. Royalty would be addressed as “your Excellency.” For Jesus, however, it’s not just a title, but a true and accurate description of all that he is. He excels in his love and grace, in his compassion and justice, in his rule and reign.

“Jesus has no blind spots, weaknesses, or deficiencies. He is all glorious in his diverse excellencies.”

Short of glory, we’re all in process. We’re finite. We’re sinners being conformed to the image of Christ (Romans 8:29). Our instincts are being honed by God’s word and the power of his Spirit. And as he conforms us to himself, our glorious Savior — the Lion and the Lamb — lacks nothing. In every circumstance, our paradoxical Savior speaks the perfect word. He never lacks compassion, and he never shrinks back from a rebuke. He has no blind spots, weaknesses, or deficiencies. He is all glorious in his diverse excellencies.

Therefore, strive to think, feel, speak, and do more as Christ would in this polarized world, and delight yourself in daily receiving his all-surpassing glory and goodness.

God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.

It didn’t make any sense. I read the line again, more slowly this time: “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.” I understood each of the words in the sentence, but I couldn’t grasp what they meant together. “What does it mean to be satisfied in God?” “How does my satisfaction relate to God’s glory?” These ideas were so foreign to me it was as though the line were written in Arabic or Icelandic.

This single sentence provoked me to wrestle with God’s glory and my joy, and how the two relate. I was confronted, for the first time, with the idea that God cared about my joy. And not only did he care, but he was seeking to advance, maximize, and stir up my delight in him. As I reflected on this possibility, I found it again and again through the Bible — because it had always been there. Soon, the sentence radically reoriented my life from top to bottom.

Do’s and Don’ts

Over twenty years ago, I had just arrived as a freshman at college, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was five hundred miles from home and eager to begin exercising my adult independence. Having grown up in a faithful Christian home and a mostly Bible-preaching church, I had boiled Christianity down to what I thought were its essentials (at least according to 17-year-old me): duty and rules. I knew I was supposed to obey God’s commands, and I knew I was not to embrace immorality.

I had been taught much more, of course, but my teenage mind focused on the rules and prohibitions. Go to church. Pray. Read the Bible. Don’t have premarital sex. Don’t drink, smoke, or take drugs. Don’t dishonor God — glorify him. But glorifying God was all duty and no delight, like doing chores or homework. It was commanded (1 Corinthians 10:31) — and burdensome.

But during this first year in college, at a Christian fellowship, a small-group leader handed me a copy of Desiring God by John Piper. I hadn’t read many Christian books up to this point. I started it, but the first chapter confused me to no end. The author kept speaking about joy and delight in God. I had never considered that my happiness mattered to God, much less that it was commanded. I didn’t grow up with these as categories.

Could Jesus Make Me Happy?

Sure, we talked about obeying God — not breaking his commands and honoring him with our actions. But we didn’t talk about rejoicing in God or delighting in God. We talked about duty. We talked about picking up your cross and following Jesus down a road of suffering and pain. We talked about denying yourself, putting off the deeds of the flesh, and fighting the fight of faith. We talked much about labor, and little about grace. We quoted, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,” but didn’t finish the sentence: “for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12–13).

So, the sentence “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him” was like showing me a five-legged dog or dry water. It didn’t exist in my universe. Christianity is true; therefore I obey. It didn’t matter if I was happy or miserable in that obedience.

Culturally, this approach made a lot of sense. Good grades, hard work, willpower, discipline, and perseverance were drilled into me from a young age. In my cultural milieu, if you got an A-minus on a test, you worked harder next time to get an A or A-plus. I was taught to put in as much time and energy as was needed to accomplish the task. It didn’t matter if I liked it or not. If it was assigned, I needed to do it well.

Yet this mindset was crippling as it bled into my relationship with Jesus, which became mainly transactional. I would read the Bible, hoping for God’s blessing. I’d avoid sin so that I wouldn’t be punished. And when I did sin, my world would come crumbling down around me. How could God possibly love me, much less accept me or forgive me, if I was a wanton sinner?

Treasure Hidden in a Field

This perspective, however, minimized the gospel of the grace of God. It lacked a compelling motivation for my obedience. It lacked substance. Slowly, I began to see that God gives us joy in obeying him, he gives us delight in worship, and he satisfies us with his steadfast love and mercy. My joy is not inconsequential, but rather essential for a life that pleases and glorifies God. Therefore, it’s not just okay to seek joy in God; it’s essential that we find our soul’s satisfaction in Jesus. Or to put it another way, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.” And so, we fight for joy in Jesus.

“God gives us joy in obedience, he gives us delight in worship, and he satisfies us with his steadfast love and mercy.”

This idea began to leap off the pages of the Bible. The Psalm 1 man is the one whose delight is in the law of the Lord (Psalm 1:2). The commands of the Lord are not burdensome, but life giving (1 John 5:3). God is the one who makes known to us the path of life; in his presence we experience fullness of joy, and at his right hand we get pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11). Jesus said that the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, which a man discovers and then sells all that he owns in order to obtain it (Matthew 13:44).

And the fact we are commanded to glorify God doesn’t diminish the reward of it. To say, “Your job is to glorify God” is like telling a newlywed husband or wife, “Your job is to delight yourself in your spouse.” It’s like arriving at a long-awaited vacation and being told, “Your job is to relax and enjoy yourself.” The command to glorify God is a command to delight yourself in him, and the command to delight yourself in him is a command to glorify him. Hand-in-hand, one completes the other.

No Better Place to Be

The sentence summary of Christian Hedonism went from incomprehensible to understandable, and then from understandable to wonderful. My life has never been the same.

“There is no better place to be than following Jesus, obeying God’s commands, and experiencing his smile.”

When preaching the Scriptures now as a pastor, my goal is not to demand obedience for the sake of obedience. I don’t guilt or shame our people into following and sacrificing for Jesus. We don’t send missionaries into the hardest places of the world with threats. Rather, we entice people with the superior pleasures of following Jesus. There is no better place to be than following Jesus, obeying God’s commands, and experiencing his smile.

Jesus is better. Knowing, loving, and being loved by Jesus is better than the lesser pleasures of entertainment. He’s better than scrolling endlessly through the swamp of social media. Joy in Jesus is better than illicit pleasures, chemically induced highs, and the riches that our world holds out on a platter of death. Obedience to Jesus, participation in his church, and identification with his body is better than the temporary accolades and acceptance of those around us. Lesser pleasures fade in comparison to the growing and greater pleasure of being satisfied in God. And wonder of wonders, that pleasure glorifies God.

When we come to Jesus, we receive everlasting joy that is rooted in a hope that never disappoints. We are promised an eternal hope, a forever home, an incorruptible kingdom, a superior pleasure, and an everlasting joy. This is the reality of following Jesus. Comprehend the incomprehensibly glorious truth that we have been created and designed to find our ultimate joy and satisfaction in Jesus. And as we delight ourselves in him, God is rightly glorified, honored, and praised.