http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15270173/run-the-devil-out-with-righteousness

Many of us will walk through a life-altering tragedy at some point in this short life. But for most of us, most of the time, the deepest challenge of life is not weathering some earth-shattering, once-in-a-lifetime disaster. The greatest challenge at any given moment is negotiating the garden-variety discouragements of life. A passive-aggressive email. A dear friend who moves away. An elusive promotion. Chronic back pain. And especially, our own ongoing yielding to temptation.

A flash flood may drown us, but eventually so will incessant dripping if it is not dealt with. Sudden disaster may overwhelm us, but eventually so will the drip of discouragement if it is allowed to pool.

There are two ways to do life as a believer. One, gradually grow cynical by allowing the discouragements of life to beat out of you the acute sense of eternal destiny and wonder that God gave you at conversion. Two, leverage the discouragements of life into deeper reality with God and the doctrines you confess.

How do we do the second of these?

Here are four reminders for my fellow saints as we all battle our way together through the discouragements of life, especially as regards our own failures and weaknesses.

Slow Growth Is Real Growth

Perhaps you feel as if your growth in Christ is too painfully slow. That’s good. What healthy Christian is smilingly content at his or her growth, floating breezily through this fallen world? Healthy Christians are confounded at their slow pace of growth. This is the blessed frustration of a heart alive to God and joy and beauty.

Remember, however, that slow growth is still real growth. Consider the agricultural metaphors used all over the New Testament for our life in Christ (for example, Matthew 13:1–9; John 15:1–9; Hebrews 6:7). Flowers don’t blossom overnight — they blossom at the end of several months of varying conditions: day and night, sunny and cloudy, dry and wet, warmer and cooler. They’re growing, but it’s almost imperceptible day to day.

“The great danger is not that you grow slowly. The great danger is that you stop fighting to grow.”

The great danger is not that you grow slowly. The great danger is that you stop fighting to grow. In the economy of the gospel, fighting is winning. Don’t give up. Your frustration at your rate of growth itself reflects the Spirit’s presence in your life.

Slow growth is real growth.

You Have Everything You Need

Second, don’t let your friends or the Christian publishing industry or your own frantic heart have the effect of spiritual infomercials, sending the message that if you just get that particular resource or book or habit or doctrine or job, then discouragement will go poof. If you are in Christ — and every Christian is — then you have everything you need.

Discouragement about the state of your Christian life is the result not of lacking spiritual resources, but of losing reality with spiritual resources. A billionaire beggar’s problem is not lack of funds but lack of accessing those funds. “His divine power has granted us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). “In him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him” (Colossians 1:9–10). Discouragement is so deadly because it can feel as if this is our new normal. We tend to think that now we are seeing clearly, and it will never pass. It feels like the only joy we’ll know from now on is fake joy. So we embrace cynicism as an emotional defense mechanism.

The way out of discouragement, however, is not to put up defenses, but to ask God to give us back reality with him. Often in discouragement, the Lord himself goes from reality to theory. We remain theists, but in our heart, we quietly demote him from actual Savior to abstract Savior. Silence your discouraging thoughts by doggedly putting your full weight on all that is yours already in Christ: adoption, forgiveness, reconciliation, liberation, returned dignity, and all the rest.

I’m not saying you won’t be helped by ordering and reading an excellent Christian book, or by joining that small group. Yes, there may be resources and practices you need to “add” to your life. But in terms of the deep structures of how we overcome discouragement, we are equipped with everything we need at the moment of conversion for the rest of life’s battle. We are united to Christ. The Spirit dwells within us. We have been plucked up out of the old age and placed in the dawning new age. We are justified, and the logic of the New Testament is that we are not able to get “de-justified” any more than Jesus is able to get kicked out of heaven and put back in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea.

You have everything you need.

Christ Is Bigger Than You Imagine

Third, “consider Jesus” (Hebrews 3:1). When Lucy sees Aslan on her second journey into Narnia in Prince Caspian, she is surprised at what she sees:

“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.“Not because you are?”“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.” (380)

Spiritual growth does not lessen how much is left to explore in Christ. Spiritual growth takes us unendingly into new discoveries of Christ. Our growth is a growth in apprehension of Christ. Paul speaks of his “unsearchable riches” (Ephesians 3:8). The Jesus you’re bored with isn’t the real Jesus. The problem is you, not him. The real Jesus is unsearchable and irresistible.

“The Jesus you’re bored with isn’t the real Jesus.”

In your discouragement, plunge deeper in Jesus Christ than ever before. Collapse onto him with greater abandon than ever before. Pour out your heart to him. Wrestle with him. Freshly surrender to him. Whatever you do, don’t look elsewhere other than Jesus as you seek to outgrow your discouragement, like a toddler looking everywhere except to his or her own mother when tired and hungry.

Consider the possibility that you have unwittingly domesticated the real Christ. Perhaps, like Columbus hitting the Caribbean and thinking he was in Asia, without realizing there was a vast unexplored continent that would later be called North America, there are vast regions in the real Christ you have yet to discover.

That journey of exploration will not make the discouragements go away. But it will buoy your heart above them. Armed with a fountain of fresh discoveries of Christ, you can dance your way through the Normandy Beach of this life.

He’s an endless Christ. Let him loom above your discouragements, fortifying you afresh. You don’t need an easier life. You need a bigger Christ.

Heaven Is Coming

Fourth and finally, remember: final rest is just around the next bend. Heaven is near. Nearer now than when you began this article (Romans 13:11–12). Paradise and peace are creeping toward you, and none in Christ can evade their blessed capture.

And here’s the astonishing promise of the New Testament, clinched in Christ’s own resurrection, to which your own fate has been inevitably bound: every earthly discouragement will one day fold back on itself and become part of your final resplendence (Romans 8:28).

You’re almost home. Nothing can derail you. Not even you. When you fall, take his hand and get up. Jesus Christ is walking you to heaven with his arm around you. When you fail, look up into his eyes and let him freshly dignify and calm you. You belong to him. Be at peace, and keep trudging forward, repenting and rejoicing your way toward your life’s sunset.

In a 1942 letter to a woman discouraged with her sinful habits, C.S. Lewis wrote,

I know all about the despair of overcoming chronic temptations. It is not serious provided self-offended petulance, annoyance at breaking records, impatience etc doesn’t get the upper hand. No amount of falls will really undo us if we keep on picking ourselves up each time. We shall of course be very muddy and tattered children by the time we reach home. But the bathrooms are all ready, the towels put out, and the clean clothes are airing in the cupboard. (Collected Letters, 2:507)

See you there.

The recent swell of concern for truth, at least as a word choice, is an interesting development. Even voices that recently declared with seeming delight the dawning of a “post-truth” age now find themselves reaching for this ancient word. Freshly sensitive to the lies of perceived foes on “the other side” of the political divide, amateur politicians, conservative and progressive, with smartphone in hand, represent themselves as bearers of the real truth.

Whether it’s social distancing and face coverings, crime rates and policing, big tech and big government, inflation rates and national debt, court cases and judicial appointments, it turns out we still want the truth. No, we demand the truth. That is, when it favors our personal interests and preferences.

Take It in Stride

New as the recent trend of shameless spin, and outright lies, may seem to some, Christians with Bibles in hand do not number ourselves among the surprised. Long has the devil trafficked in half-truths, subtle deception, and “disinformation” — from the beginning, in fact. This has been his strategy, and main trick, as “father of lies,” from the garden. Even if the social manifestations now appear plainer and, at times, more jarring, those informed by the truth of Christian Scripture take it in stride.

Two millennia ago, one of our apostles informed us that unbelievers “suppress the truth” and “exchanged the truth” for lies (Romans 1:18, 25). Even in the early church, former professors of the faith wandered away from truth (2 Timothy 4:4; Titus 1:14; 3 John 12). Set over and against the 1950s, our (digital) world(s) may seem newly thick with slander, flattery, and self-promotion. But compared with the early church, well, we may now be living in more normal times.

Our Jesus as Truth

As Christians, our concern for truth, in times of shameless deception, is not just principled; it’s personal. We care about truth, and resolve to speak truth, despite its costs, not simply because we’re concerned with fact and fiction, true and false. Lowercase, impersonal truth is not our highest and deepest allegiance. Our concern “for truth” is derivative and secondary. We have come to know the higher Truth, the deeper Truth, the personal Truth who gives meaning and value to other truths, and makes some claims true, and others false. Apart from him, the seemingly dignified public plea for truth soon devolves into another language game and cunning power play.

“Jesus is not just true among other truths, but the Truth — the one way to the one who truly matters.”

John’s Gospel is particularly insistent on Christ, as divine Son, not only being true, but the Truth. Jesus himself, of course, says famously to his disciples, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). He is not just true among other truths, but the Truth — the one way to the one who truly matters.

When John, in his dramatic prologue, introduces this personal, incarnate Truth, he presents the person of Christ as “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, 17), echoing the great, defining Old Testament refrain about God’s “steadfast love and faithfulness.” In Christ, we will never be done marveling that “God chose to make himself known, finally and ultimately, in a real, historical man,” as D.A. Carson comments (John, 127). He continues,

Jesus is the truth, because he embodies the supreme revelation of God — he himself “narrates” God, says and does exclusively what the Father gives him to say and do, indeed he is properly called “God.” He is God’s gracious self-disclosure, his “Word,” made flesh. (491)

Our Gospel as Truth

First, we recognize Jesus as the Truth. Then, as we page our way through his apostles, we find that not only is Christ himself “the Truth,” but the message about him and how he saves — what we call “the gospel” — is “the truth.”

Thanks to Paul’s epistles, this definitive message of the Christian faith is the most common referent of “the truth” in the New Testament. Paul refers to our hearing “the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation” (Ephesians 1:13; also James 1:18) and “the word of the truth, the gospel,” that is, “the grace of God in truth” (Colossians 1:5–6). And so, Christians are those “who believe and know the truth” (1 Timothy 4:3). We have come “to a knowledge of the truth” (2 Timothy 2:25) — meaning not truth in general, whether mathematics or physics or chemistry, but specifically the truth, the good news from God that Jesus saves sinners.

In perhaps Paul’s most significant statement about the new-covenant people of God, he refers to us as “the household of God, which is the church of the living God, a pillar and buttress of the truth” (1 Timothy 3:15). The call of Christ on his church, which he himself builds (Matthew 16:18), in the best of times and worst, is not fundamentally to stand for all that’s right and true and good in the world. Churches are not societies for the preservation of fact and general truths. Churches are to be pillars and buttresses — for the advance and defense — of the gospel, the truth, the defining message about the one who is the Truth.

Why Truth Matters

The pursuit and telling and upholding of truth is, then, no mere pragmatic concern, nor some secondary religious conviction. It is a worship concern, stemming from our ultimate allegiance. We worship the one who is Truth himself. And we receive the gift of right standing with God, in him, by faith, through the truth of the gospel.

As we stand for truth in times teeming with lies, we may find some common cause with unbelievers in the various spheres where God has placed us — in our families, neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces. In days when dividing lines are being newly redrawn, new fault lines emerging, and once secondary concerns becoming primary, we will find non-Christian cobelligerents, old and new. As we do, we would do well to remember that the deepest allegiances beneath this cooperation are not the same, but, in fact, fundamentally different (and even set against one another).

“We care about truth not because truth is our God, but because Jesus is our God, and he is the Truth.”

We care about truth not because truth is our God, nor because “truth” now seems to serve our own interests, but because Jesus is our God, and he is the Truth. He’s the Truth who makes all truth to be true. In Christ, we will not be content with dedicating our lives to truth but not the Truth. And so we beware letting unbelievers in common cause turn our pursuit of truth upside down by rallying us to their focus as long as we keep quiet about ours.

Three True Allies

In times like ours — disillusioned and divided by lies, and freshly desperate for truth — we can find strength in rehearsing three ancient allies we have in the Christian call for truth, true friends that help us not stay silent about what matters most.

Truth Behind Us

First, we recall that not only is Truth himself personal, but we too have had a personal encounter with him. We are not just professors of truth, but witnesses, personal witnesses, to him and his work in us.

Witnesses speak of “what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20) — we speak of more than our experience, but not less. This puts importance on our personal testimonies in a way we might be prone to neglect in the cause of truth. Our professing of truth is not speculative or secondhanded, but like the formerly blind man healed by Jesus, we can say, in a world of complexity, confusion, and spin, “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25). Which at once inspires both a courage and contrition in our contending for the faith — and may help us discern which causes to take up and which ones to let pass.

Truth Within Us

So too, secondly, we care for truth as those who have an almighty Ally for the Truth, the Holy Spirit. In a world long embattled in a contest for the truth, Jesus promised, and has given us, an all-powerful Helper who is “the Spirit of Truth” (John 4:23–24; John 14:17; 15:26; 16:13). The Spirit loves the Truth. The Truth himself has sent him, and the Spirit is dedicated utterly to the Truth, with omnipotent energy. The pursuit of truth is not our work to start, shoulder, and carry out with his help. Rather, it is his great work for us to join and enjoy, without panic or frenzy.

Truth Around Us

Finally, however alone we might feel in a moment of personal attack or impersonal doom-scrolling, or however small our circle of believing friends or local church may feel, we have a people — and far, far more than seven thousand who have not bowed the knee. None of us stand alone contra mundum as lovers, and testifiers, of the Truth.

The church, pillar and buttress of the truth, is also our soul-steadying fellowship in the Truth. In a world of half-truths and shameless lies, we tell the truth, and love the truth, and pursue the truth, because we love and cherish and worship together the one who is Truth.

Audio Transcript

Good Monday morning, and welcome to a new week on the podcast. Today we have a question from a listener, Scott, in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. Here’s what he wants to know: “Dear Pastor John, hello and thank you for the Ask Pastor John podcast. My question is personal. A very close friend of mine, who has historically been strong in his Christian faith, has recently embraced a pop-theology in which God has no wrath, and there’s no hell for anyone.

“My friend now argues that the vengeful God of the Old Testament was a Jewish myth, not the real God, who is only found in Jesus. To him Jesus died mainly to demonstrate God’s patience with sinners. He now denies penal substitutionary atonement. In all these things, I have shown him his error from Scripture, but he will have none of it. Because he continues to claim to be a Christian, I have begun to treat him in accordance with 2 Thessalonians 3:14–15, not hanging out like we used to. Have I done the right thing? And should I tell him why?”

I think the answer is yes, you have done the right thing. And I think the answer is yes, you should tell him why. But let’s step back first for just a moment and get the bigger picture of the way the New Testament deals with those who claim to be Christian and have abandoned things essential to the Christian faith.

Warn a Brother

First, let’s clarify the verses in 2 Thessalonians that Scott refers to. The situation in Thessalonica is that some in the church have departed from Paul’s teaching about the second coming, and are so sure that it’s happening in the next weeks or months that they’ve stopped doing any work and are walking in idleness, he says, and mooching off of other believers instead of doing their work, because they think the Lord’s going to be there any minute.

So Paul says in 2 Thessalonians 3:6, “Now we command you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from any brother who is walking in idleness and not in accord with the tradition that you received from us.” And then eight verses later, this is what Scott refers to:

If anyone does not obey what we say in this letter, take note of that person, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed. Do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother. (2 Thessalonians 3:14–15)

Now, the problem with using these verses to guide Scott in the situation he describes with his friend is that the situation in 2 Thessalonians is not so serious that Paul considers the delinquent idlers as unbelievers. He tells the church to assume — for now, anyway — that they are brothers and that they should be won back as brothers by this temporary ostracism. “Do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother,” he says.

Withdraw from a False Brother

Now, I don’t think that’s the case with Scott’s friend. He has reinvented another Jesus than the one in the Bible, and another Jesus can only offer another gospel. His errors go right to the heart of the gospel, so I don’t think Scott’s friend should be considered a Christian.

Paul has very harsh words for those who claim to be Christian and reject the biblical Christ and the biblical gospel. He says, for example, in Galatians 1:8–9,

Even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed.

That’s the situation for Scott’s friend, as far as I can see, and that kind of false teaching in a person who claims to be a Christian cannot help but stir up serious divisions among professing believers. Claiming to be a Christian while rejecting Christ can only split Christ. So both the apostles’ Paul and John have strong words to tell us to withdraw our fellowship from such a person claiming to be a Christian and yet rejecting the biblical Christ:

2 John 1:9–10: “Everyone who goes on ahead and does not abide in the teaching of Christ [which is what Scott’s friend has done; he’s moved on to a new Christ that he’s inventing out of his own head] does not have God. If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting, for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works.”
Titus 3:10: “As for a person who stirs up division, after warning him once and then twice, have nothing more to do with him.”
Romans 16:17: “I appeal to you, brothers, watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them.”
1 Corinthians 5:11: “Now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of sexual immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or swindler — not even to eat with such a one.”

“Claiming to be a Christian while rejecting Christ can only split Christ.”

Now, that last list from 1 Corinthians 5 focuses mainly on blatant behavioral sins that we don’t repent of, but the reference to idolater in that list points to a much wider application than just a few behavioral sins — like creating a new Christ that is not the Christ of the Bible and claiming to worship that false Christ.

Make the Meaning Clear

So, from these seven passages that I just quoted, I would say that Scott has made the right choice in pulling back his fellowship from his friend who claims to be a Christian and has rejected the very heart of Christ’s saving work — namely, his taking our condemnation on himself on the cross, according to Romans 8:3. And I would say, Scott, that you most definitely should explain to your friend why you are pulling back. It won’t do any good otherwise; he won’t know what’s going on.

“It would not be loving to carry on as if his view of Christ were unimportant.”

Your hope is that your action will help him feel the seriousness of his walking away from biblical truth, and his reinventing his own Christ. You’ll tell him that you love him and that it would not be loving to carry on as if his view of Christ were unimportant, when in fact his soul hangs in the balance. You’ll promise to pray for him, and from time to time, you may communicate with him precious things about Christ that you pray will awaken a longing in him for the true biblical Christ.

Go to the Church

And I would say one more thing, Scott. Without going behind his back, you would say something to him about his church relationship, or you would ask him about his church relationship — I’m just assuming that if he claims to be Christian, he’s going to church somewhere, probably — and you would ask him if his pastor knows what he believes. And you might even offer to go with him to visit his pastor, and you would explain that it’s a matter of integrity.

If you belong to a church, it’s dishonest, it’s cowardly not to be upfront with the church leadership if you come to reject some of the central teachings of the church. And if he gets his back up maybe and says, “What? You want to get me kicked out of my church the way you’re kicking me out of my relationship with you?” — well, you might say to him, “You are the one who has changed — not me, not the church. You’re the one who has turned on Jesus and kicked him out of your life. You’re the one who has kicked out of your mind and heart what the church has believed about the Lord Jesus and the wrath of God and the atonement of Christ for two thousand years. I think you should own up to what you have done and stop pretending that you’re a Christian.”

Now, I don’t know, Scott, whether those words are appropriate for your friend or not. I know I’m putting words in your mouth, but it seemed to me that I ought at least make an effort to say the kinds of things that might be said. And I’ll pray for you that the Lord will give you love, give you wisdom, give you courage to speak the truth with your friend, and that he may receive it the way you mean it.

Some of the most life-changing verses in the Bible are those that come alive years after we first read them. We read them and pass over them, read them and pass over them, read them again, and then suddenly reality breaks through, and their meaning explodes in our imagination. I wonder if any verses like that come to mind for you.

Years ago, a line in Psalm 4 leapt out of the fog of familiarity and arrested my attention. At first, it exhilarated me, awakening me to spiritual wells I had walked by (and looked past) again and again. Then it humbled me, confronting me with how weak and fickle my heart can be. And then, finally, it has strengthened me, stirring my desire and ambition for Christ and building my courage in him. King David writes,

You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. (Psalm 4:7)

Surprised by Joy

The verse slid under my radar for years, I think, because it rang like a cliché to my immature and naive ears — like a sentence beautiful enough for Pinterest, but just out of touch with the heavier realities of real life. I would read verses like this, feel vaguely inspired for a moment, and then move on and forget them minutes later. The vagueness evaporated, however, when I slowed down enough to finally see through the window this verse opens for us.

David does not say, “You have given me great joy,” or even, “You have given me as much joy as those in the world have in their finest meals and fullest pleasures.” No, he says, “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound.” If it was a word that seized me, it was the word more. As David weighs his joy in God against the greatest pleasures on earth — the most expensive experiences, in the most exotic places, with the most famous people — he finds the world’s offer wanting. He prefers what he has tasted through faith over anything else he might see or do or buy.

Do you think about your faith in God that way? When you think about Jesus, do you ever think in terms of joy, delight, fulfillment, pleasure? Have you actually been taught, subtly or explicitly, to pit him against your happiness? The discovery for me, at that time, was that I did not have to walk away from joy to follow Jesus. In fact, I could only find the richest, most intense happiness in him.

Stubborn Longings for Less

The more you sit with a verse like this, however, the heavier it can become. The promise of experiencing a joy like David’s can give way to the troubling realization that we do not yet experience it. Can I really say, with him, “God, you have given me more joy than the world has in its greatest joys?” Am I as happy in Jesus as they are in their food, and friends, and careers, and vacations, and possessions? We know we should be able to say what David says, and yet we also know our own hearts well enough to wonder whether we can.

I feel how slow my heart can be to enjoy God. Sin never prefers God over grain or wine or television or self. And sin still lives in me. As John Piper says, we humans, in our sin, “have a deep, unshakable, compelling preference for other things rather than God” (“What Is Sin?”). This sin isn’t just a lingering tendency to do the wrong thing, but a stubborn longing for the wrong thing. So, Bible reading can sometimes feel burdensome. Prayer can sometimes feel stale. Fellowship can feel forced. Joy in God can feel distant and theoretical.

“Sin isn’t just a lingering tendency to do the wrong thing, but a stubborn longing for the wrong thing.”

To be clear, appreciating grain and wine is not sin. The psalmists celebrate and worship God for both (see Psalm 65:9; 104:19). Our joy in grain and wine and every other good gift from God is meant to kindle our joy in him, not compete with him (James 1:17). Preferring grain or wine or anything else to God is sin. And according to 1 John 1:8, we all, at times, prefer wrongly. We crave lesser, thinner joys over all we have in Christ.

How Long, O Lord?

Even if we overcome our inner resistance to this joy, though, the harsher realities of life also become hurdles to joy. The book of Psalms, after all, is not one long chorus of joy. It holds out a life of worship that is not comfortable or predictable, but difficult and demanding, even agonizing, at times.

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled. My soul also is greatly troubled. (Psalm 6:2–3)

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? (Psalm 13:1–2)

The cords of death encompassed me; the torrents of destruction assailed me; the cords of Sheol entangled me; the snares of death confronted me. (Psalm 18:4–5)

Again and again, the brighter moments of gladness punctuate song after song of hardship. David’s life, in particular, was terribly painful. After he was chosen to be the next king, he was hunted by Saul. After he committed adultery and had the woman’s husband killed, he lost his infant son. Later, another son, Amnon, died at the hands of his own brother, Absalom, who then fled. And when the estranged son eventually returned, he betrayed his father, organized a mutiny, and stole the kingdom.

The agony David experienced (some because of his own sin, and much because of sins against him) makes his words in Psalm 4:7 even sweeter and more compelling. His pain doesn’t gut what he says about joy, but proves it, revealing that this joy is unusually potent and resilient.

Even as I Lose All

When David writes, “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound,” he is not writing from the comfort of a palace in peacetime; he is writing from hiding, while Absalom has seized his throne. Psalms 3 and 4 are the morning and evening psalms of a man betrayed. David suffered much throughout his life and reign, but did anything sting like the stab in the back from his own son?

“No amount of darkness and loss could take the depth and fullness of his joy in God.”

And yet he was not utterly miserable, even while he watched the boy he once held and fed and played with plunder his life’s work. No, “You have put more joy in my heart” — even now — “than they have when their grain and wine abound.” Even while my son indulges himself on my grain and my wine and my wealth, even as I lose nearly all that I love, even while I fear for my life, God, you have made me glad in you — more glad than sinners have in their happiest moments. No amount of darkness and loss could take the depth and fullness of his joy in God.

This joy isn’t merely for the lighter, more comfortable, more cheerful moments of the Christian life, but it’s also strong enough for the trenches, the valleys, the storms. What God did for a wounded and despairing king in the throes of betrayal, he now promises to do for us in the throes of whatever we face or carry. And what greater, more practical gift could he give us than to say, in any circumstance, however bleak or painful, I will not only keep your life, but make you glad?

Pastor Kenny focused last week especially on Colossians 1:22–23, where Paul says (verse 22) that Christ has reconciled us in his body of flesh by his death in order to present us holy and blameless and above reproach before him. So the aim of the death of Christ is that we be brought to holiness and blamelessness, so that someday we would be presented — like a bride being presented to the bridegroom — before Jesus with no condemnation, but instead with purity and fullness of joy and pleasures forevermore.

So the entire bride of Christ, the church, and every one of us as believers will be presented to the risen Christ holy, blameless, eternally satisfied with the greatness and the beauty Jesus Christ, while he is eternally glorified in us. That’s what Jesus died to bring about.

Then Pastor Kenny dealt very sensitively with the weighty matter in verse 23, namely, that there is a condition for our being a part of that great destiny. You see the word “if” at beginning in verse 23 — we will be presented blameless and without condemnation before Christ, “if indeed we continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel.”

And Pastor Kenny emphasized that none of God’s elect, no true believer, will fail to meet that condition — none of the blood-bought people of God will fail to continue to the end in faith, because, we are “kept by the power of God” (1 Peter 1:5); and because “he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Christ” (Philippians 1:6); and because he who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it” (1 Thessalonians 5:24).

So you have three actors in Colossians 1:22–23. Jesus acted by doing the decisive reconciling work when he died. We act as we continue in faith, not shifting our hope from Christ to this world. And God acts in us to enable us to continue in faith and hope. Three actors, all aiming at the same goal, namely, (verse 22) that we be presented holy and blameless before Jesus at the last day — no sin, no guilt, no condemnation, no pain, no sickness, no sadness, everlasting happiness with Christ.

Salvation Every Sunday

Now what Paul does in verses 24–29 is to say this: There’s one more actor fully engaged to help you, Colossians — you, Bethlehem — reach that goal, namely, me, Paul himself. Look with me at Colossians 1:28–29:

Him [Christ] we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, [and here’s the purpose, and it’s the same purpose as in verse 22] that we may present everyone mature in Christ. For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me.

Notice the word “present” in verse 28. It’s the same word as in verse 22 (same in English, same in Greek). Verse 22, Christ died “in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before Jesus.” Verse 28, Paul proclaims and warns and teaches and toils and struggles in order to present you mature and complete (holy, blameless!) in Christ.

So the goal has remained the same from verse 22 to 29 — namely, to make sure that believers (as verse 23 put it) “continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel.” The goal remains the same: keep God’s elect from making shipwreck of their faith! To bring them to maturity, blameless on the day Christ’s coming. To put it simply, the goal is to get us home. The goal is to keep us saved.

“Salvation happens for the saints every Sunday, because eternal security is a community project.”

When I came to this church as pastor in 1980, after a while, someone asked me, “When are you going to preach a salvation sermon, pastor?” And I said, “That’s all I do. Every Sunday I am trying to save the saints, and the lost, and present us mature and holy before Christ at the last day. Salvation happens for the saints every Sunday, because eternal security is a community project.”

In last week’s text and today’s text,

The goal of the death of Christ is to present us blameless to Christ.
The goal of our continuing in faith is to stand blameless before Christ.
The goal of God’s faithfulness in holding onto us is to present is blameless to Christ.
And the goal of Paul’s proclamation and warning and teaching and toiling and struggling is to present us mature and blameless to Christ — holy and happy in him, glorifying him, forever.
And the goal of faithful preachers is to make all of that plain for the sake of your getting safely home — your standing before Christ holy and blameless and joyful on the last day — that’s the goal.

Paul Focuses on Himself

So, the goal of verses 24–29 (today’s text) is the same as verses 22 and 23. What has changed is the actor. In verses 24–29 the pervasive focus is on Paul himself. He’s the one laboring to present the Colossians (and us) complete in Christ. Verse 24, “I rejoice in my sufferings. . . . “In my flesh I fill up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions. Verse 25, I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you.” Verse 28, “We proclaim, warn, teach; we present.” Verse 29, “I toil. I struggle with all the energy he works in me.”

There’s a lot of Paul in these verses: Paul’s joy. Paul’s suffering. Paul’s ministry. Paul’s stewardship. Paul’s proclaiming. Paul’s warning. Paul’s teaching. Paul’s toil. Paul’s struggle. So one of my questions is this: Paul, if your goal is to present the Colossians mature and blameless in Christ at the last day, why are you talking about yourself so much? Why so much attention to your suffering in your ministry and your stewardship in your toil in your struggle?

I think Paul is very sensitive to that question. You can see how aware he is of what he’s doing in Colossians 2:1–2, “For I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you. . . .” Why, Paul? He answers that question powerfully and profoundly. In fact, his answer is so amazing that I’m going to save it for the end as the climax of this message. So, instead of first answering the question why is Paul speaking of himself and his ministry, let’s first seek to answer the question how is he speaking? And once we get in front of us how he’s doing it, then will be in a position to answer why he’s doing it.

Since I think verse 24 goes to the heart of why Paul is talking this way, I will save that until the end. So, first, let’s look more closely at verses 25–29.

Minister of God’s Plan and Mystery

Verse 25, “ . . . of which [i.e., of Christ’s body, the church] I became a minister [a servant] according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known. . . .”

That word “stewardship” means “household plan” or “the administration (stewarding) of the household plan.” The picture is that there is a household, and the head or owner of the household has a way that he wants the household to be managed or stewarded or administered. And Paul is saying that when he was converted on the Damascus road by the risen Christ and called into Christ’s service as an apostle to the Gentiles, he was made a minister (or servant) or steward of God’s household plan, which refers to the overarching purposes and plans of God for how he will achieve salvation and accomplish his mission in the world.

To give you a sense of the scope of this household plan, listen to Ephesians 3:8–10 where he uses the same language:

To me… grace was given… to bring to light for everyone what is the plan (the stewardship, Greek oikonomia) of the mystery hidden for ages in God, who created all things, so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.

This is a massive household plan reaching from eternity to eternity, embracing the entire universe, including all the demonic powers of heaven and hell, and putting the infinite wisdom of God on display.

Now Paul says here in Colossians 1:25 that he became a minister, a servant, of the church in accord with that plan. So he has his place in that plan for the sake of the Gentiles, or more specifically, for the sake of the Colossians at this point. Let’s read it again. Verse 25, “I became a minister according to the stewardship [household plan] from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known.”

In other words, God called me into my place in the plan “for you.” My job as an apostle to the Gentiles is to proclaim and warn and teach and toil and struggle so that you Gentiles, you Colossians, you saints at Bethlehem, find your glorious place in this plan — especially mature and blameless before Christ at the last day.

Mystery Made Known

Then he explains specifically how his particular administration of this plan is going to unfold. At the end of verse 25 he says this: my job is to “make the word of God fully known.” Then in verse 26 he lasers in on the specific dimension of God’s word that he has been specifically charged to make known. Namely (v. 26a), “the mystery hidden for ages and generations, but now revealed to his saints.” That’s what Paul is supposed to make known to the Colossians and to us.

The word “mystery” in the New Testament does not mean something incomprehensible to humans. It means something that has been more or less concealed by God, but is now being brought to light. So, Paul is saying that at the heart of his gospel proclamation is the making known — the revealing — of something that in the Old Testament had not been made fully plain.

In verse 27, he tells us what the mystery is, “To them [the saints he had just referred to, believers in Christ] God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles [the non-Jewish nations] are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ [the Jewish Messiah] in you [non-Jews], the hope of glory.” The reason I give it that twist — Jewish Messiah indwelling pork-eating, uncircumcised, Sabbath-ignoring Gentiles — is because that’s the way Paul meant it. And we can see this focus in Ephesians 3:4–6:

When you read this, you can perceive my insight into the mystery of Christ (as here in verse 27), which was not made known to the sons of men in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit. This mystery is that the Gentiles are fellow heirs [with true Israel!], members of the same body, and partakers of the promise [of Abraham] in Christ Jesus through the gospel.

In Colossians 1:27b, “Christ in you the hope of glory” is the mystery of the gospel because it means the divine Jewish Messiah is now indwelling non-Jewish Gentiles, and thus embodying and guaranteeing the hope of everything promised to God’s people in the Old Testament. This was almost too good to be true — that all the unclean, Gentile castaways, who believe are part of the people of God. You, a Gentile Christian, are grafted into the covenant with Abraham and by union with the Messiah Jesus you become an heir of all the promises to God’s people. This is the hope of glory. Christ in you, the hope of glory.

Riches of Glory

Notice in verse 27 that Paul does not just say that Christ in us is the hope of glory in the future. He also says that right now this mystery of Christ in you is richly glorious beyond measure. Verse 27, “God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery” right now. Look down a few verses at Colossians 2:2b–3, where Paul refers to “the knowledge of God’s mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”

“When we have Christ dwelling in us, we can’t be any richer.”

In other words, when we have Christ dwelling in us — Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge — we can’t be any richer. His presence in us is the guarantee of future glory greater than anything this world can offer. And it is the foretaste now of all the treasures of everything that can be known.

Presenting the Saints

Now Paul says that to make all of that plain, and to help the Colossians and us feel the wonder of our inclusion in the glory of God — to make all of that real to us, he (vv. 28–29) proclaims, and warns and teaches with all wisdom, and toils and struggles. Because if he can be used by God to wake us up to the wonder of Christ in us, the hope of glory, and the presence of glory, then he will be able to present to Christ. In other words, we’ll make it home. We will get to the glory.

How do you fall short? Remember the condition of verse 23: You will stand blameless before Christ in glory “if you do not shift from the hope of the gospel.” And now he has just called it “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (verse 27b).

“The way people make shipwreck of their lives is by turning away from the all-satisfying hope of glory.”

The way people fall short and make shipwreck of their lives is by turning away from the all-satisfying hope of glory with Christ and falling in love with this world. “Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me” (2 Timothy 4:10). Will we hold fast to Christ in us, the hope of glory, or will we shift from the hope of the gospel and join Demas?

Why Say So Much About Himself?

Now I close where I said we would: why did Paul, in seeking to preserve the faith and hope of the Colossians — to get them home, bring them to glory — speak of himself and his ministry the way he did in this paragraph. Why not put all the focus on Christ, instead of speaking of his own suffering, his own ministry, his own stewardship, his proclaiming, his own warning, his own teaching, own toil and struggle? Why draw so much attention to your own suffering and toil?

I’ll give you Paul’s answer, and then show you two places where he says it. His answer is this: I speak of my sufferings for you Colossians, I speak of my toil for you, because what you see in my suffering and my toil is not merely mine but Christ’s suffering and Christ’s toil on your behalf. In other words, I want you to see my suffering and my toil as a flesh-and-blood embodiment of the invisible Christ suffering for you and toiling for you and loving you.

First, he says this in verse 24, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.” To see what he means by “filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions,” look with me at Philippians 2:29–30.

Epaphroditus had brought gifts to Paul from the Philippian church to where Paul was imprisoned in Rome — 800 miles by land and sea along bandit-infested roads. And after commending him to the church as he sends Epaphroditus back, Paul says (Philippians 2:29–30), “So receive him in the Lord with all joy, and honor such men, for he nearly died for the work of Christ, risking his life to complete [or fill up] what was lacking in your service to me.”

Now that’s the same language Paul used in Colossians 1:24 when he said that in his sufferings he is “filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions.” So my suggestion is this: the Philippian church loved the apostle Paul, but their love was distant and unseen. Epaphroditus became the present, visible, flesh-and-blood embodiment of their love and service to Paul. He completes — he fills up — what was lacking, namely, a personal, flesh-and-blood presentation to Paul of their loving service.

And in the same way, Paul’s sufferings for the church are a personal, present, living, flesh-and-blood embodiment of Christ’s love and service to the Colossian believers, and to us, Bethlehem. Paul drew attention to himself and his sufferings because his sufferings were not merely his, they were actually the sufferings of Christ — the love of Christ in Paul. And Paul’s affections for the church were the very affections of Christ through Paul for the Colossians (cf. Philippians 1:8).

Christ Working Through Me

Finally, see this once more in verse 29. “For this I toil [to present you to Christ], struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me.” Do you think, dear Colossians, that my toil for you and my struggle for you are merely mine? Do you think that my drawing attention to them is drawing attention primarily to me? No. No, it’s not.

What’s happening when I toil and when I struggle for you is that Christ has done a miracle in me. Christ is working in me. Christ is working through me. This is Christ toiling. This is Christ struggling for you, in me. This is filling up what is lacking in Christ’s toil and struggle for you. Namely, present, living, flesh-and-blood embodiment of his toil and his struggle — his love for you.

Knowing Pastor Kenny and the Downtown elders the way I do, I do not hesitate to make this application: when they preach to you, and teach you, and pray for you, and lead you, and toil and suffer for you, know this: you are being loved by Jesus.

And, lest you think I overlooked the third word of our text (verse 24, “now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake”), I end with the word of exhortation to Pastor Kenny and all the pastors and elders: Embody the sufferings and the toil of Jesus for this church with joy. It is an amazing thing to be a steward of the mystery of Christ.

A young man had been looking at pornography for years. He wept and promised to stop, but his pattern persisted. His church’s elders patiently, tenderly, and firmly walked with him for nearly a year. They tried accountability software, but he eluded it. They counseled him to get rid of his smartphone and remove Internet from his home, but he thought that was too extreme. He attended church but seemed unaffected by Scripture. He felt guilty and despaired about his circumstances, but it didn’t change the way he lived.

There is always mercy for repentant people, but how should a church respond to someone like this young man, who is unwilling to repent of viewing pornography?

What Is Pornography?

Finding an agreed-upon definition for pornography is becoming increasingly difficult. I recently spoke to a church member about watching a popular television series. I asked if the show had pornography in it. He said no. I asked if it contained scenes with naked people engaged in sexual activity. He said yes, but quickly added, “That’s just part of the show.”

Our culture’s saturation with sexually explicit material has numbed us to the nature and danger of pornography. Many have been convinced that watching people have sex on a screen is fundamentally different than watching them have sex on the floor in front of you. But Jesus assures us that virtual sin is not safe and carries the same danger of divine judgment (Matthew 5:28–30).

I typically define pornography as depictions of sexual subjects or sexual behavior in literature, art, or films that are consumed for arousal, escape, entertainment, and/or affirmation. Viewing people made in God’s image as subjects to be consumed rather than neighbors to be loved is a great sin against God and others. It trains us to desire evil and grieve the Holy Spirit who dwells in us (1 Corinthians 6:15–20; Ephesians 4:30). It degrades the image-bearer being consumed for adulterous enjoyment (Matthew 5:28–30). It defrauds one’s spouse or future spouse (1 Thessalonians 4:3–8). It defiles the marriage bed with adulterous memories, sinful comparisons, and evil expectations (Hebrews 13:4).

Worst of all, consuming pornography happens before the face of Jesus, our beloved Bridegroom (2 Corinthians 11:2–3). Imagine a wife’s terror if her husband watched porn before her eyes. How much worse before the eyes of Jesus?

Because of pornography’s seriousness, churches are right to take serious steps to eradicate it from the life of a believer.

Severe Act of Love

A local church is a committed group of believers who follow Jesus together by obeying his commands under the oversight of godly leaders (Hebrews 13:17). The church members are to love one another and help each other battle abiding sin. At times, however, some will become ensnared in sin, and Jesus commands us to seek them out and restore them to Christ and the church (Matthew 18:10–35; James 5:19–20; Galatians 6:1–2).

Sadly, some professing believers persist in resisting repentance. Because their hypocrisy blasphemes Jesus’s name (Isaiah 52:5; Romans 2:24), threatens their own soul (1 Corinthians 6:9–10), and endangers the church’s health (1 Corinthians 5:6), church discipline becomes necessary.

In discipline, a church reproves a believer for their sin — first privately, and then, if unrepentance continues, before the whole church (Matthew 18:15–17). The discipline process may include counseling the unrepentant to abstain from the Lord’s Supper for a season, removing them from areas of service (especially children’s ministry, youth ministry, and public worship), or removing them from leadership positions. The last stage of the process is to remove them from membership altogether (Matthew 18:15–18; 1 Corinthians 5:1–13; 2 Thessalonians 3:13–14; Titus 3:10–11).

This severe act of love serves straying sinners by warning them that their trajectory is eternal condemnation (1 Corinthians 6:9–10; Ephesians 5:3–6). Any unrepentant sin may lead to disciplinary action by the church, including the sin of pornography.

When Does Pornography Lead to Discipline?

The church and her pastors bear responsibility to discern if a sinning person shows signs of faith and repentance. This is done on a case-by-case basis and requires wisdom to apply the proper combination of correction, encouragement, patience, and decisiveness. Because no two cases are the same, a church needs real, living, prayerful, discerning pastors who can process facts, patterns, and responses with wisdom and courage. They act as physicians of the soul, who diagnose spiritual diseases and prescribe gospel remedies.

So how might pastors gauge if a professing believer’s relationship with pornography is worthy of the later stages of church discipline? (For simplicity, I will use masculine pronouns throughout the rest of the article, even though pornography use can become a problem for both men and women.)

Discern his ensnarement.

Determining the person’s relationship with sin is important in determining his relationship with the church. The following questions will help to determine if church discipline might be necessary.

What material is he accessing?

The type of material he views indicates the level of darkness to which he is ensnared. Is it nudity? Sexual activity? Unnatural sexual activity (like violent sexuality, homosexuality, or bestiality)? Child pornography? The deeper the darkness, the more drastic the potential response.

How often is he accessing it?

The pattern of sin paves the way for the elders’ response. When was the last time he accessed explicit material? When was the time before that? Is he accessing it monthly? Weekly? Daily? Hourly? The more regular the pattern, the more cause for concern.

How is he accessing it?

How he gains access to the material is also important. Is he using his phone? Computer? Television? His children’s or spouse’s devices? Devices at work or elsewhere? These questions reveal the lengths to which he is willing to go to gain access to sinful content.

What other sins are associated?

If someone is looking at porn, other sins are likely nearby. Whom has he lied to about his sin? How is he covering it up? Has he contacted anyone inappropriately online? Has he exchanged photos or videos with someone else? Has he met with anyone for a sinful rendezvous? Is his spouse being abused? The level at which sin has metastasized will determine the level of intervention needed to remove it.

How were his sins exposed?

“There’s a big difference between being caught in sin and voluntarily coming forth because of the Spirit’s conviction.”

There’s a big difference between being caught in sin and voluntarily coming forth because of the Spirit’s conviction. Was he caught? Did he freely acknowledge his sin, or did you have to drag it out of him? Was he grieved by God’s Spirit or forced by circumstance? If he is surrendered to God’s work in him, he will freely offer answers. Consistent dishonesty is a huge red flag.

Administering these questions can help to reveal the state of the person’s soul. Is he devoted to his sin? Is he committed to excusing it? An entrenched commitment to sin is deeply concerning and possibly moves him into the category of formal discipline.

Discern his repentance.

True believers will be marked by sorrow and a willingness to sacrifice anything to repent of sin in order to enjoy fellowship with Jesus. Discerning the sincerity of someone’s repentance is key in discerning the need for church discipline.

His sorrow.

Not all sorrow over sin is the same. Paul told the Corinthians, “Godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death” (2 Corinthians 7:10). Worldly grief sheds tears over sin’s consequences, like losing a job, destroying a relationship, or being publicly humiliated. But worldly sorrow has nothing to do with God. It is concerned only with self, which is the same root that feeds the commitment to pornography in the first place.

Godly grief, however, is vertically oriented. It sees sin as first and foremost against God (Psalm 51:4). Godly grief realizes that sin is a personal offense against Jesus, who has done us no wrong. Godly grief produces earnestness to make changes, fear of eternal judgment, longing to be more like Jesus, and zeal to pursue holiness at all costs (2 Corinthians 7:11). If these fruits are present, we have reason to hope and reason to slow down any talk of church discipline.

While we may discern a mixture of worldly and godly grief, an absence of godly grief is gravely concerning. If a person can sin and not care that it grieves God, he may not have a relationship with God.

His sacrifice.

True repentance will be marked by clear, often drastic steps to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” (Matthew 3:8). As one friend asked, “Is there a [metaphorical] trail of blood following him as he cuts off whatever he must in order to obey Jesus?”

Is he willing to delete beloved apps or social-media accounts? Will he downgrade to a non-smartphone? Will he get rid of his television or Internet in his home? Will he quit his job or change careers to avoid temptation?

Some will supply countless excuses for why these steps are too extreme. But Jesus says, “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell” (Matthew 5:29). Genuine believers are willing to do whatever it takes to stop sinning. If someone shows that convenience is more important to him than obeying Jesus, it calls his profession of faith into question and may give reason to proceed to church discipline.

His joy in Jesus.

While grieving over his sexual sin and murder, David pleaded for joy. In his famous psalm of repentance, he asks God, “Restore to me the joy of your salvation” (Psalm 51:12). The truly repentant also seek refreshed joy in their salvation because they want restored joy in Jesus. Jesus is the reward of true repentance. Does the person want to be pure in heart because he wants to “see God” (Matthew 5:8)?

There is no clear formula to determine when exactly formal church discipline should start or how long is necessary until the last step. Prayerfully plead for wisdom from God (James 1:5). Bear the burden of the struggling sinner while being careful to avoid sinning against him out of bitterness, self-righteousness, or exhaustion (Galatians 6:1–2). Consider excommunication as the last resort, though do not be afraid to carry it out. If you do move forward, prayerfully hope that God will bring the person to repentance (Matthew 18:10–35; 1 Corinthians 5:5).

Messenger of Mercy

Let me return to the man’s story I mentioned in the beginning. After a long season of continued unrepentance, his church finally removed him from membership. In the months after his excommunication, however, he was diagnosed with a grave illness.

“Church discipline is a messenger of mercy to prepare people to stand before a holy God.”

As his condition worsened, he was haunted by the fact that his sin had pushed his church family to discipline him. God used this love-inflicted wound to move him to repentance (Proverbs 27:6). He visited the pastor and asked for forgiveness. He reached out to others and attempted to make amends. On his deathbed, he professed faith in Christ and acknowledged that God used the severe love of God’s people to prepare him to stand before Jesus.

Church discipline and its final step of excommunication may seem harsh to some, but it is actually a messenger of mercy to prepare people to stand before a holy God. The process may be grueling for all involved, but trust God’s wisdom and know that the pathway to true joy is paved by his word. He will walk with you, whatever part you play.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15260804/o-christians-be-people-of-truth

ABSTRACT: When the Act of Uniformity (1662) mandated that all English clergy must adhere to the Book of Common Prayer, controversy ensued among the Puritans. Some Puritans, like John Owen and John Bunyan, argued that written prayers in corporate worship violated Scripture and could quench the Spirit. Others, like Richard Baxter, resisted the Act of Uniformity, but still maintained that written prayers could aid Christians’ corporate worship and prevent disorder. Their disagreement reveals how greatly the Puritans prized biblical worship; it also calls Christians today to pray from sincere and engaged hearts, with words shaped by Scripture.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors, leaders, and teachers, we asked Dr. Greg Salazar, Assistant Professor of Historical Theology at Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary, to explore the disagreement among the Puritans on the use of written prayers in corporate worship.

The last seventy years have witnessed a resurgence in interest in the Puritans. Two events in particular have catapulted the Puritans from the dusty pages of history into the center of mainstream Calvinism. The first was the establishing Banner of Truth Trust in 1957 in order to republish the classics of Puritan literature. Then, recent decades have witnessed the emergence of the New Calvinist movement, which finds its historical and theological roots within the Puritan movement. The result is that there are many (myself included) who are zealous to put down the often-repeated stereotype that the Puritans were those who had “the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”1

Some observers of Christianity also have noted how some evangelicals (including those who identify as Reformed) have drifted toward a more liturgical approach to worship.2 In recent years, Christians have desired to understand the Puritans’ view of the use of written prayers in both corporate and private worship. Although many Puritans argued against the Book of Common Prayer’s prescription to use written prayers in corporate worship, some Puritans believed that such a practice was consistent with biblical worship. Moreover, most Puritans — even those who were opposed to the use of written prayers in public worship — believed that it was perfectly legitimate to use written prayers in one’s own private or even family worship.

This article will examine the most important arguments put forward by some of the most influential Puritans — particularly John Owen, John Bunyan, Richard Baxter, and Matthew Henry. It will survey their arguments for and against the use of written prayers in both public and private worship. It will end by exploring four lessons we can learn from studying the Puritans’ perspectives on these important issues.

Persecuted Puritans

In order to grasp why many Puritan divines opposed the use of any set prayers in public worship, it is important to remember the historical context in which the Puritans lived and ministered.3 The Puritan movement began in the early 1560s, when the Protestant Queen Elizabeth I ascended to the throne, following the death of her Catholic sister, Queen Mary I. As a result of this transition, English Puritans were able to return home from Continental Europe (particularly John Calvin’s Geneva), where they had been living in exile to avoid Catholic persecution.

They brought with them newly forged convictions about the nature of biblical — and, in their mind, truly reformed — doctrine, worship, and church polity. They believed the Church of England — with its commitment doctrinally to the Thirty-nine Articles, liturgical set forms of prayer (outlined in the Book of Common Prayer), and episcopal polity — was a “half-reformed” church in need of further reformation along the lines of Calvin’s Geneva. Thus, for the next century, they sought to reform the Church of England. Some pursued these ideals as somewhat-loyal members of the Church of England, while others remained outside the established church and attempted (and often failed) to set up structures alongside it.

While the first eighty years of the Puritan movement saw little success, the 1640s and 1650s were the golden age — insofar as the Puritans’ aspiration of forming a national church on Puritan principles was now within their grasp. However, when Puritanism’s political leader, Oliver Cromwell, died in 1658 and his son Richard took his place as Lord Protector of England, Oliver’s son lacked the charismatic leadership and giftedness of his father. Within two years, Puritans concluded that their vision of a national church would be better executed in the stable soil of a restored monarchy rather than a failing republic. Consequently, the Puritans invited Charles II — son of Charles I, whom they executed in 1649 — out of exile to reinstate the monarchy.

The initial negotiations between parliament and Charles II for a “broadly inclusive” national church that would grant liberty to Puritan consciences around polity and worship looked promising. However, following the failure to reach a consensus on the particular scope and structures of the newly forming church and the election of a new slate of young “Cavalier” Anglicans to parliament in 1661, the political and ecclesiastical tide turned wholly in favor of the Anglicans and against the now-marginalized Puritans.

Now, not only were the Puritans’ hopes for a broadly inclusive national church dashed, but the likelihood of persecution was imminent as the established church handed down a mandate known as the Act of Uniformity (1662). The Act of Uniformity required all ordained English clergy to repudiate their former presbyterian ordination and political allegiances and to submit themselves to reordination by a bishop and to adherence to the liturgical ideals outlined in the Book of Common Prayer, which had had just been revised in a more Anglican direction. Those ministers who failed to conform in writing would lose both their ministerial posts and the livings tied to those posts.4 In the end, over two thousand clergymen in England and Wales failed to conform and were ejected from their pulpits and livings. It was the most significant and systematic persecution of Puritans in their over one-hundred-year history.5

Against Written Prayers in Corporate Worship

Given their conviction that the Church of England was a “half-reformed” church and their experience of persecution by the church they sought to reform, it is not surprising that many Puritan divines opposed the use of any written prayers in public worship. Consider some of the arguments Puritans like John Owen and John Bunyan raised against the practice.

Written prayers violate the regulative principle.

The clearest reason Puritans opposed such prayers is because they believed their use violated the regulative principle for worship — namely, that nothing should be done in corporate worship unless it is prescribed by God’s word.

In one of the most formidable defenses of the regulative principle and his most extended critique on the Church of England, John Owen (1616–1683) argued that his commitment to the regulative principle of worship, and particularly the second commandment, necessitated his opposition to the use of written prayers in public worship.6 Owen argued that they were “a human invention” and an idolatrous violation of the second commandment.7 He even contended that though the apostles were inspired by the Holy Spirit to write Scripture, they were never inspired to write “prescribe[d] forms of prayer, either for the whole church or single persons.”8 Thus, he concludes, if the very apostles were never tasked with this duty, “there is no such especial promise given unto any, this work of composing prayer.”9 Owen’s explanation for why written prayers existed in corporate worship was simple: throughout human history since the fall, man has devised other ways to “worship” God than those prescribed by the Lord himself as “revealed in the Word of God.”10

“The Puritans possessed a vital zeal to worship God according to the prescriptions of Scripture.”

John Bunyan (1628–1688) likewise defended the regulative principle of worship, specifically opposing written prayers because he “did not find” them “commanded in the word of God.”11 Simply put, these Puritans forbade the use of written prayers in corporate worship because the practice was not prescribed in Scripture.

Written prayers are a Catholic and even Old Testament practice.

Second, Puritans believed the use of written prayers in corporate worship was a Catholic and Old Testament practice. For example, both Owen and Bunyan argued that the Church of England’s use of written prayers rendered it guilty of the Catholic Church’s error of worshiping according to human invention.12 Owen went even further to argue that it reduced worship “to the very state and condition wherein they were in Judaism” and therefore was antithetical to Christ’s saving work. For Christ “delivered his disciples from the yoke of Mosaical institutions,” and the very destruction of the temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in AD 70 was a providential indication that a transition had taken place in the worship of God. In short, the Old Testament pattern was literally “buried in the ruins of the city and temple,” making it impossible to worship God in that way.13

Prayer is chiefly inward.

Third, Puritans argued that the Book of Common Prayer could not facilitate what was chiefly an inward, spiritual, sincere engagement of the affections expressed in external words. Following the Act of Uniformity, John Bunyan was imprisoned for his nonconformity and was denied the opportunity to be released from prison because he would not promise to cease preaching according to Puritan principles. Bunyan’s opposition to the use of written prayers in corporate worship was a central point of his trial discussion with authorities, especially Sir John Keeling, which took place seven weeks after his initial imprisonment.

In Bunyan’s Discourse Touching Prayer (1662), published during his imprisonment, he argued that the use of written prayers opposed the very essence of true prayer that was to be “with the spirit and with understanding” (see 1 Corinthians 14:15).14 Citing texts like Jeremiah 29:12–13 and echoing John Calvin and Matthew Henry, Bunyan said, “Prayer is a sincere, sensible, affectionate pouring out of the heart or soul to God . . . for such things as God hath promised, or, according to the Word.”15 When he was asked by Keeling at his imprisonment trial if one could “pray with the spirit, and with understanding” using “the Common Prayer-book,” Bunyan replied that he was convinced “that it is impossible that all the Prayer-Books that men have made in the world should lift up or prepare the heart,” for “it is not the mouth that is the main thing to be looked at in prayer, but whether the heart be so full of affection and earnestness in Prayer with God.” When authorities defended the use of written prayers by arguing that “prayers made by men” “are good to teach, and help men to pray,” Bunyan replied that while “one man may tell another how he should pray,” neither he nor the prayer book could help that man “make his condition known to God” or “stirreth up in our hearts desires to come to God,” since that was the Spirit’s work to assist the believer in prayer (Romans 8:26).16

Indeed, Puritans believed that there was nothing distinctly spiritual about the utterance of specific familiar forms, for true spirituality involved engaging the affections in prayer, for only “then the whole man is engaged.”17 Since an emphasis on the importance of heart religion was a major theme laced throughout all of Puritan theology, it is not surprising that it would be central to their understanding of prayer.

Written prayers quench the Spirit.

Fourth, Bunyan and Owen argued that written prayers not only failed to facilitate true prayer, but quenched the Holy Spirit.18 Owen called written prayers “a stinted form of prayers,” whose “constant and unvaried use . . . may become a great occasion of quenching the Spirit.”19 Likewise, the Welsh Independent preacher Walter Cradock (c. 1606–1659) said that those who require using written prayers in public worship “restrain the Spirit of God in the Saints” as well as in the minister himself. For although a minister would come to the Lord in public prayer burdened to pour “out his soul to the Lord” for his congregation, he was “tied to an old Service Book” requiring him to “read” it until they “grieved the Spirit of God, and dried up” their “spirit[s] as a chip.”20

Ministers lead using Spirit-empowered public prayers.

Finally, Puritans argued that ministers were empowered to lead God’s people in corporate worship by the Spirit, rather than by the written words of man. Owen argued that the use of written prayers actually “render[ed] useless” Christ’s true means for leading in public prayer — namely, his “sending the holy Spirit . . . to enable” the minister to lead the congregation in “Divine Worship.”21 In Owen’s mind, there were two kinds of ministers: those who rightly administered the “holy things in his assemblies” by aid of the Holy Spirit, and those who ministered “by the prescription of a form of words” of men.22 Similarly, Bunyan said that even if ministers “had a thousand Common-Prayer-Books” but lacked the “Spirit,” they would “know not what [they] should pray for as [they] ought,” but would be “like the Sons of Aaron, offering with strange fire” (Levitcus 10:1–2).23 Owen and Bunyan likewise argued that since the Spirit must equip ministers with the ability to pray extemporaneously in public prayer, by extension those who relied on the prayer-book liturgy for public prayer lacked the necessary spiritual gifting from God for ministry.24 Puritans sought to even provide less-competent ministers with tools — like Nathaniel Vincent’s “Directions how to attain unto the gift of prayer and readiness of expression in that duty” — to help them grow in extemporaneous prayer.25

For Written Prayers in Corporate Worship

However, while the above arguments were pervasive throughout the Puritan movement, there were other Puritans — most notably, Richard Baxter (1615–1691) — who were open to using written prayers in corporate worship. While Baxter extolled extemporaneous prayer, understood these arguments against written prayers, and had significant concerns about (and desired to reform) the Book of Common Prayer, he nevertheless believed there were some advantages to using written prayers and, like John Calvin, composed set prayers for use in public worship.26 He even went so far as to compose a Puritan alternative to the Book of Common Prayer, complete with liturgical forms and written prayers drawn principally from Scripture and especially the Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments.27 He drafted it in only two weeks and claimed that he only used the Bible, his biblical concordance, and the Westminster “Assemblies Directory.”28 He hoped that his Reformed Liturgy (as it would be called) might be a substitite prayer book that his fellow moderate Presbyterians and Anglican opponents could both support.29 What follows are some of Baxter’s arguments in favor of the use of written prayers in corporate worship.

Written prayers can prevent disorder and unnecessary repetition.

First, Baxter argued that the use of written prayers in worship could prevent disorder and unnecessary repetition in public prayer. He argued that the public “prayers of many a weak Christian” were so plagued by “disorder and repetitions and unfit expressions” that he preferred that they use written prayers.30 He claimed that other Puritans held the same position, saying that the Westminster Assembly divine Simeon Ashe (1595–1662) “hath often told us, that this was the Mind of the old Nonconformists, and that he hath often heard some weak Ministers so disorderly in Prayer, especially in Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, that he could have wish’d that they would rather use the Common-Prayer.”31

Written prayers can be a subordinate help to the Holy Spirit’s leading.

Second, Baxter argued that the use of written prayers could function as a “help” that was “subordinate to the Spirit’s help.”32 He said that written prayers could help Christians to pray in the same way as “spectacles” help others to see or even “sermon notes” help “weak memories” — even sharing candidly that set “forms are oft a help to me.”33 While he agreed with those who contended that true prayer is from the heart, he argued against those who opposed written prayers on this ground, saying that “it is a great error to think, that the gifts and graces of the holy spirit may not be exercised, if we use the same words, or if they be prescribed.”34

The Lord’s Prayer is a written prayer.

Third, the Puritans were perhaps most open to the use of the Lord’s Prayer in public worship since it was prescribed by Jesus himself as a pattern for how to pray. The Westminster Assembly differed over the issue of whether to include the Lord’s Prayer in the Directory of Public Worship. Some divines were happy to include it, while others were reticent to compel churches to use the Lord’s Prayer in worship. While the former divines believed it would serve as a model to train congregants how to pray, the later group believed, as Bunyan and Owen had argued, that not even the mere words of the Lord’s Prayer could incite true prayer from the heart, as this is the Spirit’s work.35 In the end, the Directory of Public Worship did not require ministers to use the Lord’s Prayer in worship, but rather “recommend[ed]” it, as the Westminster divine William Gouge stated, as “a pattern of prayer” and “a most comprehensive prayer . . . to be used in the prayers of the Church.’”36

Written prayers have historical precedent.

Finally, Puritans, particularly Richard Baxter and John Preston (1587–1628), argued that there was sufficient historical precedent throughout the history of the church of trusted Reformed divines using written prayers in corporate worship. For example, John Preston wrote, “There is no doubt that a set form [of prayer] may be used” in public worship, as Luther, Calvin, the early church, and “the Church at all times” had done.37 The diversity of views throughout the history of the church led Baxter to the conclusion that a minister’s conviction concerning written prayer was a secondary matter upon which he should be given liberty of conscience “at his discretion,” since written prayers are “neither in their nature, or by vertue of any promise of God” pertaining “to mens salvation.”38 Understanding this is key to understanding Baxter’s position. For although Baxter himself was affected by the Act of Uniformity, and he defended ministers ejected in 1662, before and after the great ejection he labored to cultivate unity through negotiating a mediating position that might be agreeable to Puritans and Anglicans alike.

Puritan Divines Closer Than Assumed

These disagreements between Puritans over the use of written prayers in public worship were often hidden from public view. One notable exception was a clash between Owen and Baxter that was a result of Baxter receiving a copy of Owen’s Twelve Arguments against any Conformity to Worship not of Divine Institution and Baxter’s responding with his own work.39

Geoffrey Nuttall has persuasively argued that, despite their expressed differences, “Baxter and Owen in fact were . . . close spiritually” on the issue.40 For example, despite all of his opposition to the use of written prayers in corporate worship, at one point Owen appears to soften, expressing that while he does not desire to express “any dissent about” or “to judge or condemn” either the practice of or those who used written prayers, he does argue that it is not necessary to use them.41 This led Nuttall to conclude that perhaps part of the reason Owen and Baxter differed over written prayer was because Owen never got over the fact that it was the Anglicans’ zeal for set prayers that lead to their “silencing, destroying, [and] banishing” his fellow Puritan brothers.42

Using Private Prayer Books

While Puritans were divided about the use of written prayers in public worship, they were, on the whole, quite sympathetic to using private prayer books in personal and family worship. Their reason was singular and simple: they believed these prayer books could be especially helpful in aiding individuals and families in learning how to pray according to Scripture. They said that just as inflatable floaties (what they called “bladders”) could be helpful in aiding a new swimmer to swim, so these private prayer books could aid Christians in learning how to pray in both private and family prayers.43 While dozens of Puritans published these prayer books, many of the most well-known ones — such as Henry Scudder’s The Christian’s Daily Walk, John Preston’s The Saint’s Daily Exercise, Nathaniel Vincent’s The Spirit of Prayer, and Lewis Bayly’s The Practice of Piety — were reprinted continually throughout the seventeenth century in England.

“Puritans were, on the whole, quite sympathetic to using private prayer books in personal and family worship.”

Probably the most well-known of these private prayer devotionals was A Method for Prayer (1710) by the Presbyterian minister Matthew Henry (1662–1714). One gets a sense of the importance Henry placed on prayer by the fact that he actually paused finishing his now-famous commentary on the entire Bible to write it. Henry intentionally composed his work using only scriptural language to demonstrate “the sufficiency of the Scripture to furnish us for us for every good work” and to teach Christians how to plead the promises of God. Nevertheless, he conceded that it was “often necessary to use other expressions in prayer besides those that are purely Scriptural.”44

Henry’s book is organized according to a rather familiar pattern — adoration, confession, petitions and supplications for ourselves, thanksgiving, intercession for others, and a conclusion — that followed the basic outline of the “public prayer before the sermon” in the Westminster Directory for Public Worship.45 His prayer book also contains written prayers for numerous occasions, including daily morning and evening prayers, prayers of parents for their children, shortened prayers children could use to learn to pray, a paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer for children and youth, and specific prayers for special blessings and challenges.46 There were also prayers one could pray privately (or presumably publicly) in a corporate worship service before the Lord’s Supper and during marriage or funeral services.

Learning from the Puritans

We can learn at least four lessons from studying the Puritans’ perspectives on written prayers. First, the Puritans possessed a vital zeal to worship God according to the prescriptions of Scripture rather than one’s own preferences. In a day in which many churches worship God according to the latest worldly or churchly trends in order to boost church attendance, appeal to unbelievers, or be relevant to the culture, the Puritans understood that God is honored by and will bless only scriptural worship.

“The chief instrument that must be engaged throughout the whole of corporate worship is the heart.”

Second, the Puritans urge us to pursue God with all our heart in corporate worship. Having worshiped in a variety of Reformed church settings over the years, I have noticed that sometimes those most zealous to preserve the regulative principle of worship appear most lacking in the Puritans’ central conviction — namely, that the chief instrument that must be engaged throughout the whole of corporate worship (praying, singing, hearing the sermon) is the heart. They understood that those who simply go through the motions of worship are no different from the Pharisees, of whom Jesus said, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matthew 15:8).

Third, this study of the Puritans teaches us that it is possible for faithful Reformed people to differ over secondary matters — and that sometimes those variances are the result of either ignorance of the existence of similar practices within their own Reformed tradition or differing personal experiences. For example, in addition to Nuttall’s insight above about Owen’s and Baxter’s differing personal experiences of persecution, it is possible that some Puritans were not aware that influential Reformed divines like John Calvin composed written prayers for corporate worship.

Finally, the Puritans encourage us to use Scripture to shape our prayers and engage our hearts in prayer. Whether this insight is familiar or new to you, I would encourage you to use either the Psalms, Matthew Henry’s Method of Prayer, or the Valley of Vision collection of Puritan prayers as means to cultivate praying the Scriptures in your daily devotional times with God.47 One section of Matthew Henry’s Method for Prayer that I find particularly insightful is his exhortation to begin one’s Scripture reading and prayer time by meditation on Scripture so as to engage one’s affections toward vital communion with God.48 This practice encourages the believer to fix his “attention” wholly upon “the Lord” and to “set [himself] in his special presence.” Therein, the believer can “attend upon the Lord without Distraction” and without his heart being “far from him when” he draws dear God in prayer.49 Ultimately, the chief lesson the Puritans teach us is to seek the Lord in prayer with the full assurance that as we draw near to him, he will draw near to us (James 4:8).

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast. As you know, if you’ve been listening for a while, we get heartbreaking emails regularly. And that includes this one, from an anonymous woman: “Pastor John, I’m a new widow, a mother of two young boys in my mid-thirties. My husband passed away suddenly and unexpectedly from what we did not know at the time was bacterial pneumonia, which quickly became septic shock. He also had an underlying heart condition. He died one week before his 34th birthday. He was normal one day and home with the Lord three days later.

“My question relates to the issue of blame and God’s timing in his death. We had thought his ailments were a flu bug or COVID and didn’t realize the severity of what was truly going on. We had responded by following telephone guidance from a Christian homeopathic provider who had also assumed COVID, someone we trusted but perhaps should not have. As I grieve, I can’t seem to stop blaming myself. I desperately want reassurance to know that I didn’t hurt my husband, let him down, or by our actions shorten his life span. I tried to care for him and protect him as best as I could, based on the knowledge I had at the time. We didn’t know we were wrong. Once we were in the ER and discovered he was facing septic shock, I prayed fervently for the Lord to rescue and heal him.

“I guess I’m left wondering if I should continue to feel responsible. I need help to trust God, if he was responsible, and if so, that he is still good despite taking my soul mate and my best friend home at such a young age, and difficult-to-understand time. I would greatly appreciate any help you can offer.”

The reference to COVID makes me realize how recent and raw this loss is. This didn’t happen five years ago. So I want to be so careful. I think the fact that she is reaching out to us in this fairly public way is a good sign that she hasn’t despaired of discovering new things in God’s word that might ease the pain. I think she’s right in that, that there are new things I’m sure she hasn’t yet seen that God wants her to see for her own help and comfort and hope. I think there will be new, fresh things, in fact, for her to see for the next fifty years.

She will see things in God’s word fifty years from now that will shed light on this heart-wrenching loss in such a way, even at that distance, to make the love of Christ and the memory of her husband even more precious. I am seeing things at age 76 that are shedding light on sorrows that I experienced 60 years ago. I still am getting new light on the meaning of those years. So, I expect that for her.

Another Question

I think the way I would like to come at this is to raise this question, and it may sound surprising: What would you do, how would you think, if you knew that it was your fault that your husband died? Now, I’m not suggesting that it was at all. Clearly, it was not your fault. But I’m asking you to make an experiment in your mind.

What if you had failed to put the emergency brake on the car and it had rolled over him and killed him while he was working on it? What if you were helping him clean one of his hunting guns and it accidentally went off and killed him? What if you fell asleep at the wheel and crashed and only he died in the wreck? What if you mixed up one of his medications?

Or maybe, instead, just ask how would you counsel somebody in that situation. Because there are thousands of people in that very situation. They don’t just wonder if they could have done more to save their loved one. They know they caused the death, accidentally.

Now, I suppose I could join the chorus of everyone around you and say what is obvious — namely, you did all you could. Nobody is doubting your love and your care for your husband. Everybody knows you are not responsible for his death, and I do join that chorus. But I don’t think you wrote to us just for me to say the obvious that everybody else is saying: “It’s not your fault.”

Mercy for the Guilty

So what I want to say is that, if the Bible has an answer for how you would press on in life with freedom and hope and usefulness, and even eventually joy, even if you had caused his death, then how much more can you be assured that God will help you press on in life with freedom and hope and usefulness, and eventually joy, when you did not cause the death and were helpless to stop it?

Most of the time, we turn to Genesis 50:20 to remind ourselves that all the bad things that happened to Joseph turned out for good by God’s design. Remember, he said, “As for you” — you brothers, you rascal brothers who caused all this trouble — “you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” So we usually focus on Joseph and all the bad things that happened to him. But very rarely do we ponder what that verse means for Joseph’s brothers, who really were guilty of multiple sins that caused Joseph’s misery.

Here’s what Joseph says in the next verse to those brothers: “‘So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones.’ Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them” (Genesis 50:21). Wow. This does not mean they are not guilty. They are guilty. But it does mean that God has a future and a purpose for them, even though they were guilty. They were the guilty ones, and they caused all that misery for seventeen years of Joseph’s life. Through one of them, amazingly — Judah — God would even bring a Savior into the world.

“There is a future and a hope. No suffering of God’s loved ones is in vain.”

Now, Paul handled his own guilt as a murderer the same way. He saw that God had a merciful purpose in it for other guilty people. He said in 1 Timothy 1:16, “I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost [of sinners], Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life.” In other words, somehow Paul was able to transpose the horrible-sounding guilt of persecution and killing at his own hands into the beautiful music of mercy through him to other guilty sinners to whom God would show amazing patience.

Mercy for the Innocent

Then change the focus just slightly from situations where someone really was guilty, but God made a future for them, to the man born blind in John 9. Now here, the apostles assume that someone must have sinned. They just must have sinned for this calamity to come upon this blind man — like you perhaps from time to time are tempted to think, “Did we do something wrong? Can there be a catastrophic loss like this without someone having done something sinful?”

So they asked Jesus, “‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him’” (John 9:2–3). Now that is an amazing answer. And surely it applies to your situation. “Who sinned? Who was neglectful? Who put their trust in the wrong place? Who reacted too slowly? Who failed to see the symptoms? Who’s guilty here? Where’s the sin? There’s got to be sin here.”

To which Jesus answers, “It was not that you or your homeopathic advisor or your doctors or your husband sinned or were neglectful or put your trust in the wrong place or reacted too slowly or failed to see the symptoms. Rather, it was that the works of God might be displayed in him.” To which you ask, “What works?” Well, for starters, your persevering faith in the reality and power and wisdom and goodness of God. That is a miraculous work of God.

Ten Thousand Ripples

But it might be helpful for you to think on this: When your husband died, God set in motion ten thousand effects that you can’t see. Some of them will become manifest in a year or two, and some of them in fifty years. Your husband’s death did not take God off guard, nor was it meaningless or absurd or without profound purpose — a holy purpose, a sacred, precious purpose. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15). “Your eyes saw my [husband’s] unformed substance [while he was being knit together in his mother’s womb]; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for [him], when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16).

“When your husband died, God set in motion ten thousand effects that you can’t see.”

His days were written down with divine wisdom, and the ten thousand ripple effects that flow out from his life and his death will not be in vain. Some of them you will know in this life. Most of them you won’t. You are being tested, but God has promised not to test you beyond your strength. “God is faithful, and he will not let you be [tested] beyond your ability, but with the [test] he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).

Christ’s Own Peace

Jesus promised his disciples that they would have trouble in the world, and he also promised peace in the midst of it. “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

So that’s what I want to leave you with — the promise of peace, Christ’s own peace. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (John 14:27). There is a future and a hope. No suffering of God’s loved ones is in vain.