http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15173154/let-all-earthly-obedience-be-obedience-to-christ

It’s been said that the content of a prayer shapes the one who prays it, because we tend to pray what we love, and what we love makes us who we are. And this is not only true of individuals, but of churches too. Like when the early church once prayed,

Now, Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness, while you stretch out your hand to heal, and signs and wonders are performed through the name of your holy servant Jesus. (Acts 4:29–30)

Of all the things they might have prayed — and of all things churches should pray at various times — the fledging church in the early pages of Acts wanted God to give them boldness: “Grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness.”

We as twenty-first-century pastors and churches can learn from this first-century prayer, but to do so, we need to first go back one chapter.

Words Filled with Jesus

The apostles Peter and John were walking to the temple one afternoon when they encountered a lame man. He had been lame from birth. The man was doing what he was always doing: asking for money from people passing by. But on this particular day, something unexpected happened. The man passing by responded, “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” (Acts 3:6).

In an instant, the man was healed. He leapt up and began to walk. He entered the temple “walking, leaping, and praising God” (Acts 3:8). The scene drew a crowd, so Peter did what Peter was always doing. He preached. His sermon was full of crystal-clear witness to the person and purpose of Jesus. He is the Holy and Righteous One (verse 14), the Author of Life and the one whom God has raised from the dead (verse 15). Jesus is the reason, the only reason, why the lame man was healed (verse 17).

Then Peter proceeds to show that the Hebrew Scriptures had long foretold Jesus, from Moses in Deuteronomy and God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis, to all the prophets “from Samuel and those who came after him” (Acts 3:24). It has always been about Jesus, and people’s response, now, must unequivocally be to repent (Acts 3:19, 26).

New World Breaking In

These Jewish leaders were “greatly annoyed because [Peter and John] were teaching the people and proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection from the dead” (Acts 4:2).

The problem wasn’t only that Peter and John were witnessing to Jesus’s own resurrection, but that they were saying Jesus’s resurrection has led to the inbreaking of the resurrection age. As Alan Thompson writes, “In the context of Acts 3–4, Jesus’s resurrection anticipates the general resurrection at the end of the age and makes available now, for all those who place their faith in him, the blessings of the ‘last days’” (The Acts of the Risen Lord Jesus, 79). That, in fact, was what the healing of the lame man was declaring. The new creation had invaded the old.

“Jesus is the climax of all of God’s saving purposes, and we cannot ignore this without eternal consequences.”

In the resurrection of Jesus, everything has changed. He is the climax of all of God’s saving purposes, and we cannot ignore this without eternal consequences. This message ruffled the feathers of the Jewish leaders, and so they arrested Peter and John and put them on trial for all that happened that day.

“By what power or by what name did you do this?” they demanded (Acts 4:7). Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, and again with a crystal-clear witness, says the lame man was healed because of Jesus. Jesus is the Messiah who was crucified and raised, and who was foretold in the Hebrew Scriptures. Specifically, Peter says that Jesus is the stone mentioned in Psalm 118:22, the stone that would be rejected by the builders but then become the cornerstone. The stakes could not be higher. Only in Jesus could one be saved (Acts 4:12).

Outdone by Fishermen

The Jewish leaders were astonished. They could not reconcile Peter and John’s boldness with the fact that they were “uneducated, common men” (Acts 4:13). These were neither teachers nor even pupils, but fishermen. Fishermen. That agitated the Jewish leaders all the more. These unskilled regular Joes, as it were, had been teaching the people! And now they ventured to interpret the Hebrew Scriptures before these skilled Jewish interpreters, telling them who Jesus was, according to the Scriptures, and who they were, according to the Scriptures.

These Jewish leaders saw their “boldness” (Acts 4:13), but this wasn’t merely a reference to their emotional tone. Peter and John’s boldness wasn’t mainly about their zeal or behavior — it was about what they had to say. This kind of boldness is repeatedly connected to speech in Acts, so much so that another way to render “boldness” in many passages would be “to speak freely or openly.” That’s what Peter and John had done. They had spoken clearly, freely, openly, boldly about Jesus from the Hebrew Scriptures — and they had done so under intense intimidation.

As they watched this unfold, even the Jewish leaders began to connect some dots. “They recognized that they had been with Jesus” (Acts 4:13). So how did these untrained fishermen learn to interpret the Scriptures like that? How could they speak so confidently about the meaning of Scripture when they had never been taught? Well, because they had been taught — by Jesus himself. They had been with Jesus, and so they were unusually bold. They spoke of Jesus clearly, both of his person and work, on the grounds of what the Scriptures say, even when it might have cost them their lives.

Voices Lifted Together

This is the boldness the church pleads for in Acts 4:29–30.

The Jewish leaders had warned and threatened Peter and John to stop talking about Jesus, but eventually they had to release the men from custody. Peter and John went straight to their friends to report what happened. These friends of Peter and John, the nascent church in Jerusalem, “lifted their voices together to God” (Acts 4:24). Their corporate prayer was as rich with the Old Testament’s witness to Jesus as Peter’s sermon was. They knew the person of Jesus. They knew why he had come. And they knew how unpopular this message would be.

And what did they pray?

They did not pray for articulate positions on the current cultural issues, nor for increased dialogue with those of other faiths, nor for the ability to refute this or that ism, nor for the development of a particularly Christian philosophy or culture (all things we might pray for at certain times in the church). None of these are part of the church’s prayer in Acts 4. Rather, they prayed for boldness to speak the word of God. They asked God to give them the kind of speech Peter and John had modeled — to testify clearly about who Jesus is from the word of God, no matter the cost, as the new creation continues to invade the old.

Do our churches ever pray like this today?

Do we lack a similar heart? A similar perspective? Or both?

And yet our cities need our boldness every bit as much as Jerusalem did in Peter and John’s day. They need the crystal-clear witness of who Jesus is and what he has come to do.

Praying for Revival

What if the church of Jesus Christ, in all her local manifestations, was marked by a singular passion to know Jesus and make him known? This is the true priority of the church in every age and culture.

“The best, most important thing we ever have to say is what we have to say about Jesus.”

We are all about Jesus, and the best, most important thing we ever have to say is what we have to say about him. Our failures to live up to this calling are reminders of our need for revival — of our need to plead with God for boldness. Like the early church, may our heart continually beat to testify to Jesus’s glory and to what he demands of the world. Church, this is who we are. Recover it, as needed, and live it out — even though it’s the last thing our society wants to hear from us.

Our society wants the church to be “helpful” on society’s terms — what J.I. Packer called the “new gospel,” a substitute for the biblical gospel, in his introduction to Owen’s The Death of Death in the Death of Christ. Whereas the chief aim of the biblical gospel is to teach people to worship God, Packer explains, the concern of the substitute only wants to make people feel better. The subject of the biblical gospel is God and his ways; the subject of the substitute is man and the help God offers him. The market demands the substitute, and those who refuse to cater to it are at the risk of being considered irrelevant or worse. Against that mounting pressure, we should pray that we would speak clearly, freely, openly, boldly about Jesus from the Bible, no matter the cost.

Would this not be the sign of revival? Would God not answer our prayers like he did for that first church?

When they had prayed, the place in which they were gathered together was shaken, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and continued to speak the word of God with boldness. (Acts 4:31)

Audio Transcript

How do I follow God’s lead in my daily decisions? I know he’s my shepherd. He’s leading me. I think so. But how do I know if I am following him?

That’s such an important question we all must answer for ourselves, and it was a question taken up by a very young Pastor John Piper, in his very first summer as a pastor. In fact, just a few weeks into his pastorate, Pastor John preached through some of his favorite Psalms. One of them being, of course, Psalm 23. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake” (Psalm 23:1–3).

I was 22 before I first saw one of the lines in this psalm. Now I’d seen it, but there is seeing and then there is seeing, right? Verse 3, “He leads me in paths of righteousness for his namesake.” I’d never seen “for his namesake” until I went to seminary. Well, yes, I’d seen it. I’d read the words, but you can read over phrases in the Bible a hundred times and they never hit you for what they mean.

Open My Eyes to See

I went to visit Mrs. Bromgren just before her surgery on Wednesday. She was getting her eye operated on, and it was all bandaged over, and I read to her this verse from Psalm 119:18,

Deal bountifully with thy servant that I may live and observe thy word, open my eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law.

And I said, “Isn’t it true that one of the best things about having two good eyes is the Bible, being able to read the Bible? But isn’t it true, too, that there is another pair of eyes that God has given us? The apostle Paul calls them the eyes of the heart, and he prays in Ephesians 1 that the eyes of the heart might be enlightened. I think that’s what Psalm 119 is talking about: ‘May the eyes be open that we may behold wondrous things out of thy law.’”

Well, I hadn’t seen that phrase there in Psalm 23 as wondrous. I’d been as deaf to that theme as you could imagine, but there it was, “he leads me in paths of righteousness for his namesake.” The thought that God might have been causing me to do right ever since I was a little boy for his sake just never dawned on me. I just read right over that phrase. It never struck me, though I’d read it hundreds of times.

So I want to zero in on that phrase for a few minutes, but before we get there, we better look at the phrase before it, namely, “he leads me in paths of righteousness,” and ask how God does this.

How Does God Light Our Paths?

The picture, of course, here is a shepherd leading sheep along with his crook, or maybe with his call. “The sheep know my name, and they follow me.” But when we get out of the metaphor of sheep and shepherd into our own experience in our day and ask, “How does God lead in paths of righteousness,” we need to ponder a little bit and poke around in the Scriptures to see how he does it.

“In my experience, I have never seen a manifestation of God going before me at a fork in the road.”

Now, in my experience, I have never seen a manifestation of God going before me at a fork in the road. I’ve never seen a cloud of fire or pillar of cloud like they had in the wilderness. That’s not part of my experience, nor have I ever heard an audible word that I know was God speaking. A lot of people talk in that language, and maybe I’m just callous, but that’s never been part of my experience to see God in some clear manifestation showing me it’s this way and not that way, or to hear a voice like my teacher at Wheaton said he heard one day while he was shaving in front of the mirror, “Go to Wheaton from Boston.” He was in Boston. “Go to Wheaton.”

God can do that if he wants. He’s just never done it for me, and he doesn’t do it for most people most of the time. The way he leads us is apparently differently, and I think we can get a clue from what David would say in Psalm 119:105. There, he says, “Thy word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” And in that same psalm, verse 9, “How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to thy word.”

So one answer to the question, “How does God lead his people in paths of righteousness” is: he has revealed a lot about those paths of righteousness. He’s described what sort of paths are righteous paths and told us to walk in them so that we can read and obey. Surely, David did that often because he talked about meditating on the word day and night.

Why the Bible Is Not Enough

But now, that answer is only half the answer, isn’t it? By itself, the Bible will not keep us on track. No matter how wonderful the Bible is, and how we would be utterly lost without it, it is not enough by itself and for two reasons.

“By itself, the Bible will not keep us on track.”

One, we make lots of decisions in life which are not prescribed for us in the Bible — hundreds of little decisions every day and some big ones in which we look in the Bible and there are no sentences about that. How many children to have, where to send your child to school, where to go to work, this, that, just hundreds of little things that we have to decide every day, and we don’t want to bracket those and say, “Well, that’s not part of Christianity. I’ll just make those decisions anyway I please, and then Christianity is something else.” God has to do with all those decisions. But the Bible doesn’t give explicit guidance for every one of those little decisions and, therefore, something more has to be said if we’re to walk in right paths in those decisions, as well as the ones where the Bible is perfectly explicit.

The second reason that the Bible, by itself, is not enough to guide us in those paths of righteousness is this: a path of righteousness is doing the right thing with a right attitude or a right motivation. It’s not just a bodily action. It’s having a right attitude towards your wife as well. But, reading words on a page doesn’t always change attitudes.

You can read over what you ought to feel like in the Bible a hundred times and maybe your attitude is just the same. Something else has to come into play, and I think that’s why David said, “God leads us in paths of righteousness,” and why Paul said, “All who are led by the Spirit are the sons of God.” We need not only revelation coming to us from outside, namely the Bible, we need transformation coming to us inside from the Holy Spirit. The word and the Spirit together are the leadership that we need.

Renewed in the Mind of Christ

Paul says in Romans 12:2 this very familiar word, “Don’t be conformed to the world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” — why? — “so that you can prove — or better, approve of — “the will of God, what is good, acceptable, and perfect.” In other words, you’ve got to have something happen up here on the inside, some changed attitudes, some changed feelings, or when little decisions present alternatives, you won’t know how to prove which one of those is the will of God.

So the Bible is the input into that new mind, and the Spirit takes the word and begins to shape our thinking, mold our emotions, so that even when there’s no explicit command in Scripture for this decision you’re facing, you weigh all the alternatives and you’re weighing those alternatives with the mind of Christ. Paul says, “We have the mind of Christ.” And then when you make the decision, you look back and you don’t say, “My, what a smart fellow was I,” but rather, you say, “Thank you for your word that informed the principles of my life, and thank you for the Spirit that shaped my emotions and my priorities so that I made this decision your way,” and God then gets the credit for the leadership, which means personally, for me, that I have been driven basically for all of life to meditate day and night on the word and to pray continually that the Holy Spirit would work on me.

You can’t over-intellectualize the Bible. You can’t over-spiritualize your private experience with God. It’s both/and, not either/or. It has been in my experience, and I haven’t found the two in conflict but tremendous complements for guidance in life.

ABSTRACT: Baptizing new believers captures just the first half of Jesus’s Great Commission; the other is to “[teach] them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:20). Moreover, the apostle Paul’s missionary example shows that teaching is no quick or simple task. Paul taught not only unbelievers and new believers, but he continued to teach established believers through repeated visits and letters. He also helped Christians in every church learn how to teach one another under the leadership of duly appointed leaders. At every stage, Paul labored for more than mere conversion — he labored for the full maturity in Christ that comes from ongoing, Christ-centered teaching.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors, leaders, and teachers, we asked Jonathan Worthington, vice president of theological education at Training Leaders International, to explain the task of teaching in missions.

I really wanted to prepare my missions update for a supporting church, probably from Acts. But not yet; I needed to “get through” my devotional reading in 1 Thessalonians. (Yes, I admit it.) But then I read, “For now we live, if . . .” I paused. Were Paul, Silas, and Timothy not really living yet? Perhaps not feeling fully alive before — what?

I expected something like, “if we are in Christ,” or some equally rich Christological and salvific theme. Such would certainly be true. But that is not what they wrote.

For now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord. (1 Thessalonians 3:8)

These Thessalonians — some Jewish synagogue-goers, “a great many” devout Greeks, “not a few” leading women (Acts 17:4) — already trusted Christ. They were secure in his righteousness; they had peace with God and eternal life (1 Thessalonians 1:6, 9; 2:13). Yet Paul and his coworkers were not satisfied. Not until Timothy returned with good news (euangelion): the saints are maturing together in faith and love (1 Thessalonians 3:6). Now there can be deep comfort, even life.

Mission: Maturity Together in Christ

In Paul’s missionary mind and heart, as well as in his strategy and actions, the conversion of people is not completely satisfying. Maturity together in Christ is. As we trace Paul’s missionary practice below, a glorious dimension will complement what many Christians traditionally mean by the word missions.

Some Christians speak of missions only as cross-cultural evangelism.1 Others expand the idea of missions, recognizing that the church’s mission is discipleship, which is bigger than evangelism (Matthew 28:18–20),2 though they may still reserve the term missionary for those directly engaged in the type of evangelism, church planting, and/or discipleship that crosses frontier boundaries.3 Still others commend any believer as a sort of missionary insofar as he or she participates in God’s purpose, activity, and goal — God’s mission — by playing whatever part God has given and equipped the believer to do.4

Paul’s sense of participating in Christ’s mission manifests in numerous connected layers. As we notice the connective impulse and end-goal of all the layers, the word mission(s) — in this article, at least — will appear with this general sense:

God’s mission for his people includes carefully designed tasks, jobs, or roles that God gives to one or a group of his people so that his unified purpose is furthered and moved toward his intended global end-goal.

Every stage of Paul’s ministry included maturity together as Christ’s mission. And teaching played a crucial role in layer upon layer.

Layer 1: Teaching in the Initial Missional Vision of Paul

To focus, we begin with how Paul considered his initial missionary endeavor, specifically among the Galatian Christians (Acts 13–14).5 Even this initial layer is bigger than many realize.

“Every stage of Paul’s ministry included maturity together as Christ’s mission.”

Paul and Barnabas helped start many Gentiles and some Jews as disciples of King Jesus during their first missionary journey from their sending church in Syria’s Antioch. They worked east through the “unreached” areas of Pisidia’s Antioch and Galatia’s Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe (Acts 13–14). People believed. Churches were formed.6

Some brief clarifications are already necessary. First, Paul may not have considered Acts 13–14 his first missionary journey, but just his first missionary journey from that sending church. He had already been doing the stuff of such missions in Damascus (Acts 9:19–25), Jerusalem (9:28–30), his own hometown of Tarsus (presumably: cf. 9:30 and 11:22–25), and Syria’s Antioch itself (11:26). Also, in light of Pentecost, it may not be best to use unreached to refer to the people and regions in Acts 13–14 (as I have done before). As the list in Acts 2:9–11 shows, Jews from these regions had already embraced the gospel, and likely had shared the gospel with others back home. Nonetheless, Paul and Barnabas’s missionary journey established the gospel’s presence in southern Galatia far deeper than before.

After Paul and Barnabas reached Galatia’s eastern border (Acts 14:21), they stood on the cusp of a tactical missions decision. Turning northeast, they could bring the gospel into the land of Cappadocia. Delaying that movement would result in some Cappadocians dying in their sins, without hope. Or they could travel southeast through Paul’s hometown of Tarsus and around the coast to their sending church. What was their tactical missions move? Neither.

Even as “frontier” or “pioneer” missionaries, they knew that their King’s commission — and thus their mission — was not yet complete in southern Galatia. The task wasn’t finished. True, the region was not “unreached,” and churches were formed throughout. But they were not satisfied with this; none of it meant their royal mandate for that place was over.7 Therefore,

They returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God. And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed. (Acts 14:21–23)

Teaching disciples in various forms was integral to the initial layer of these missionaries’ commissioned mission — strengthening, encouraging, kingdom speaking. So too was establishing formal leaders in that local community of faith to carry on the discipleship process, the mission. (We will see more about this layer below.)

Layer 2: Teaching Again and Again

Paul’s sense of participation in God’s mission did not stop with that initial stage, even though it included all three legs of the missional stool: new converts (evangelism), new communities (church planting), and nurtured churches (discipleship).8 Teaching the same disciples and churches remained vital in Paul’s mission well beyond the initial frontier.

For example, Paul continued to teach the believers in Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe, as well as in the smaller towns from a distance, by sending them a theologically and practically robust letter: Galatians. Would Paul have viewed this letter as separate from his initial missionary work there, as if one was missions while the other was not? I see no evidence that Paul thought like that.

Within this layer of Paul’s mission to the Galatians, he taught about massively important themes: justification by faith in Christ; how this relates to the Mosaic law in God’s wise redemptive-historical plan, culminating in Christ at the fullness of time; using freedom in Christ for loving each other; practically and ethically walking by the Spirit, particularly in community.

Paul’s epistolary teaching displays his passion and goal: “I am . . . in the anguish of childbirth until Christ is formed in you” (Galatians 4:19).9 Paul’s sense of mission plays the long game: maturity together in Christ. This is why Paul’s mission continued from initial layer to further layer — and on to further layers still.

For example, Paul and Barnabas wanted to visit those Galatian churches in person again (Acts 15:36). Why? Their explicit reasoning for another Galatian missions trip was “to see how they are” and to strengthen the churches (15:36, 41).

As Paul revisited those already-reached, already-engaged, already-churched people of southern Galatia — with Silas now instead of Barnabas, and the Galatian Timothy from Lystra onward — he delivered still more teaching. On this trip (Acts 16), his teaching involved, among plenty of other topics I’m sure, delivering the theological and practical decisions made by the council of apostles, elders, and other appointed representatives (from 15:2). As his Master’s mandate specified, Paul’s teaching in his missionary trips was geared toward obedience, not bare belief (16:4).10 Again, just as Paul had hoped and strategized, “the churches were strengthened in the faith,” even growing “in numbers daily” (16:5).

“Paul’s teaching in his missionary trips was geared toward obedience.”

And we are still not done with Paul’s sense of mission to the Galatians! Paul went back again to the Galatian churches, again “strengthening all the disciples” (18:23). It seems Paul’s missionary mind and heart were profoundly committed to strengthening churches — that is, with helping believers keep maturing together in Christ — in addition to helping others come to know Christ Jesus, join the local church, and mature together.

Paul’s missional trajectory is unified, borderlessly transitioning from the unreached frontier to the same reached and engaged area, and still beyond to those same established churches and Christians so they are further and further taught. What is more, it continues still beyond.

Layer 3: Teaching Through Letters

Galatians was sent to a young cluster of churches. But Paul continued to send such letters to churches even if they had been firmly established for years. We do not have any of Paul’s subsequent letters to the Galatians (I imagine he sent some). But we can get a glimpse of the types of teaching Paul’s missionary mind and heart would unfold to longer-established churches. Take 1 Corinthians, for instance.

First of all, in 1 Corinthians — as in Galatians and all his letters — Paul organically weaves throughout clear teaching about the good news, the gospel. Jesus is King (Messiah, Christ). He died for our sins, remedying its guilt, shame, and power. He rose for our justification and glory. He is enthroned. He sends his Spirit to equip and empower us for daily life and relationships. He is going to raise us bodily and cause us to reign with him in the new earth.

What is more, Paul teaches that all this must affect life now. So, Paul teaches the Corinthian Christians about functioning as the church gathered (e.g., chapters 11 and 12–14); engaging each other as small or large clusters of Christians in the marketplace, or at dinner parties at a patron’s home, or even with pagan friends in the public or rented rooms within the various temples (chapters 8–10); daily living even as smaller Christian units or as individual Christians in the privacy of their own homes (chapter 5) or at evening parties (chapter 6); how any Christian should think and hope and act in relation to the impact Jesus’s bodily resurrection has on our present and future bodies (6:13–15; chapter 15). That is a lot of practical discipleship training!

As Paul continues teaching the believers through his letters — often bringing coauthors into this part of the mission — he consistently pursues this missional end: stand fast, mature together in Christ. As he and Sosthenes write, “My beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58). And as he and Timothy write, “[Christ] we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ” (Colossians 1:28). And Paul extends this mission still further.

Layer 4: Teaching Through Helpers

Paul continued his missionary trajectory through sending helpers like Timothy or Titus to further establish clusters of churches. His goal was that local leaders — using terms like elders (Titus 1:5), overseers and deacons (1 Timothy 3:1, 8), pastors and teachers (Ephesians 4:11) — would be raised up and established solidly for the long haul. Why? To carry on the mission of maturity together in Christ. Therefore, Paul taught Timothy and Titus to teach the churches and their budding leaders (2 Timothy 2:2) about how the Scripture-saturated Christ and the Christ-centered Scriptures must deeply affect their daily lives, regardless of their sectors of life or spheres of influence, such as home or work or church (see all of 1–2 Timothy and Titus).

In a helpful recent study, Claire Smith found a high number of words involved in education in ancient religious communities in 1–2 Timothy, Titus, and 1 Corinthians: for example, teaching, “traditioning,” announcing, revealing, commanding, correcting, remembering.11 And there is a notable difference between these early Christian communities and the roughly contemporary mystery religions and voluntary associations: namely, a much heavier focus on teaching and learning among the Christians.12 From Paul’s language, then, early Christian churches were not only considered “worshiping communities” — though they were that — but could even be characterized as “learning communities.”

Some brief clarifications are necessary. Many readers will be from the world’s “weird” population (Western, educated, industrialized, rich, democratic). We make up only 12 percent of the global population, substantially less when considering population throughout history. Yet we are notoriously adept at making sweeping, even universalizing assumptions and applications from our own particularized set of experiences and values.13 Many of us will “naturally” (culturally) assume that “teaching and learning” looks like individualized text-focused study (where everyone has his or her own Bible) and tends toward cognitive skills. (We weird Christians have even been known to unthinkingly impose our assumptions of teaching and learning on non-Western groups in missions.)

But early Christian communities, who most likely had only communal copies of their texts — Old Testament Scriptures, some of Paul’s circulating letters, perhaps other Christian writings (some Gospels, other letters) — primarily would have engaged Scripture and theology through oral (speaking) and aural (listening) forms and in communities rather than individually. What is more, much teaching and learning happened in less formal relational modeling, as in life-on-life or apprenticeship. And the point of it all was not aimed at cognitive knowledge per se but character formation14 — and that regarding both the individual’s and the community’s character.

As a layer of the mission, Paul sent and taught helpers to teach and establish local leaders. And these Paul envisioned carrying on the same mission toward maturity together in Christ, with equally robust teaching and learning.

Layer 5: Teaching Through Local Leaders

As we have seen, Paul deemed it important to help establish elders in the churches in Galatia (Acts 14:23). Paul deemed it important to send helpers to further establish people in the local offices of elders (whom he also called overseers and shepherds/pastors in Acts 20:17–35) and deacons (see 1 Timothy 3:1–13). Paul also deemed it important to teach communities of believers who already had various types of local leaders, whether offices or otherwise, that they had such leaders precisely because the enthroned Jesus himself is still on the same mission — that is, toward maturity together.

“It seems Paul’s missionary mind and heart were profoundly committed to strengthening churches.”

According to Ephesians 4:11 (on which we will focus, rather than on broader ecclesial constructions), Jesus graciously gives “the pastors and teachers” to the saints for a reason — as if sending them on a mission. Jesus gives them “toward the preparing [or equipping] of the saints for the work of ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ” (4:12). And how long does this layer of the mission last? And toward what end? Precisely until everyone is mature together in Christ and standing fast together in him (4:13–16).

Paul’s word equipping or preparing (katartismos) is a concrete word with numerous metaphorical applications. Matthew and Mark use it concretely for mending nets (Matthew 4:21; Mark 1:19), and Paul himself uses it for the preparation of clay vessels (Romans 9:22). Both concrete actions have to do with manipulating an object in such a way that it is thereby fit for its purpose.

The way Paul describes Christ’s mission in Ephesians 4 includes Christ sending local pastors and teachers to handle and work with (manipulate, if you will, but in a positive sense!) the saints in such a way that the saints are fit for their purpose. And what is the saints’ proper purpose (their mission)? Using two prepositional eis phrases,15 Paul describes what the pastors and teachers are to make the saints fit “for” (or unto): namely, for “the work of ministry,” for “building up the body of Christ” (4:11–12).

This mission of the enthroned Christ in his churches is exactly what Paul craves to participate in. Standing fast. Maturing together. This is why he goes back time and again to the same Christians on his missionary journeys. This is why he writes them letters. This is why he sends helpers to them. This is why he encourages their local leaders to be faithful to Christ’s mission to equip the saints. For the saints also have a role in this mission.

Layer 6: Teaching Through the Saints

In Ephesians 4:12–16, Christ’s mission extends well beyond Paul, his letters, and his helpers. It extends through “the pastors and teachers” in order to help the saints better

build each other up in Christ;
help each other mature in Christ;
help each other be unified in their trust in Christ;
help each other be unified in the knowledge of God’s Son;
help each other not be moved by false doctrine;16
speak to each other the truth of Christ in love;
do their part in growing and building up Christ’s body in love.

Worded differently, as Paul writes to nearby churches, “Let the word of Christ dwell among you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16).17

Notice how it is only when the saints themselves take seriously their part of Christ’s mission that the deceitful and false teaching will stop battering them around so (Ephesians 4:14). And the missional goal for the saints is the same as Paul’s in every layer of his missional trajectory: believers maturing together in Christ, standing fast in the faith together (1 Thessalonians 3:8; cf. 2 Thessalonians 2:15; 1 Corinthians 16:13).

If the saints are to sound like Paul in his missionary mind, heart, strategy, and action, they (we!) can be regularly asking questions like these: Are we all helping each other grow into the head, Christ? Is the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16; Philippians 2:5) and even Christ himself (Galatians 4:19) being formed within and among us all?18 Are we all maturing together in Christ in ordinary life: in family dynamics, in how we eat and drink together, in the market, with Christian friends, with pagan friends, in our gathered church? What about when no one is looking except that prostitute? What about in daily work, whether leather tanning, or working in the city’s treasury, or selling fabrics, or serving as a jailer or soldier? Are we all being fully discipled in God’s mission toward maturity, which involves (in Paul’s language)

being renewed in knowledge according to the image of the Creator (Colossians 3:10; cf. Ephesians 4:23–24)
as we are being conformed to the image of King Jesus (Romans 8:29; cf. 2 Corinthians 3:18),
who himself has dominion over heaven and earth precisely as the resurrected and visible image of God (Colossians 1:13–15; cf. 2 Corinthians 4:4),
who will share his reign over the earth with us forever (2 Timothy 2:11–12; Romans 5:17; see also Revelation 2:26–27; 3:21; 5:10; 22:5),
and so train us in such reigning and judging now (1 Corinthians 6:1–3)?

For Paul, teaching and learning in the early Christian communities involved the saints carrying on the same mission Paul has been on since his initial missional work, and in his returning and re-returning missional work, and in his letters, and in the helpers, and in Christ’s formal church leaders. As Paul makes clear, maturing in Christ together involves reflecting (imaging) God ever more accurately as we proclaim and portray his character and kingship in Christ through our mental, affective, bodily, individual, and communal activity — all of which perfectly aligns with God’s first great commission (Genesis 1:26–28).19

End-Goal of God’s Mission

God has an end-goal, a telos, for every aspect of his mission from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22 and beyond. For one, the global glory of God is the end-goal of missions — even cosmic worship.20 Yet there is more to say, for God built an eternal means into this eternal worship. In short:

God decided (1) he will be globally worshiped forever (2) as his people sit enthroned with Christ forever, perfectly mature together in him.

This two-pronged end-goal of God’s mission is portrayed throughout Scripture: for example, compare Daniel 7:13–14 with 7:27 and ask who exactly is reigning to the worship of the Most High,21 and compare Luke 22:29–30 and Matthew 19:28; 25:1–34 with this passage in Daniel.22 In the end, though, God makes it an abundantly clear and present glory. So the resurrected and enthroned Jesus says to his people,

The one who conquers and who keeps my works until the end, to him I will give authority over the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron, as when earthen pots are broken in pieces, even as I myself have received authority from my Father. (Revelation 2:26–27; alluding to Psalm 2:8–9)

The kingship, the authority over the nations, and the rod of iron of Psalm 2:8–9 apply to Christ himself (Revelation 12:5; 19:15). Here in Revelation 2, he applies them to his overcoming followers.

Our enthroned Lord reiterates:

The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. (Revelation 3:21)

What is more, worship is given to this royal Lamb who shares his throne and authority with his triumphant followers (Revelation 5:8), for he has made the ransomed people from the whole world “a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth” (5:10).

God has wed worldwide worship with the co-regency of his people with his Son. As in the very end:

No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in [the new heavenly earth], and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (Revelation 22:3–5)

God has eternally purposed and temporally orchestrated in creation and history (1) that he will be worshiped precisely (2) as his children reign with Christ, mature together in him.

Everything God has done and will do — not just regarding redemption and reconciliation from Genesis 3 to Revelation 20, but even regarding the very fabric of creation and new creation from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22 and beyond — is heading toward worship of him through co-dominion of us with Christ. And detailed teaching encompassing all of life is a major contributor.

The second great royal commission (Matthew 28:18–20) nestles into and naturally nudges along the fulfillment of the first great royal commission (Genesis 1:26–28). Paul saw them linked. And every aspect and layer of his missionary impulse and activity — including so much teaching — drove toward helping God’s people stand fast, mature together in Christ, and even endure so that “we will also reign with him” (2 Timothy 2:11–12). Missions: matured together in Christ and trained to reign — all glory be to God.

Teaching Toward Maturity

As I considered Paul’s language and heart in 1 Thessalonians 3:8 — “now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord” — I realized I fell so far short of the glory of God’s mission for his people, even as a leader in a missions agency! And that prompted some challenging personal questions, which I continue to pursue and which I leave with you and your communities of faith.

Can we really live if those in our spheres of influence — at home and abroad — are not yet holding firm, not yet standing fast, not yet helping each other mature together in Christ in order to bring him worship by reigning with him forever?

Or do we, like Paul, find ourselves unable to really live if the mission is not yet done? Not “done” in the sense of others having heard the gospel, even if such hearing is all over the world. Not “done” in the sense of planting churches at home and abroad and helping new believers start the journey of faith together. Not even “done” in the sense of “discipled” if we have not taken seriously enough the true height and breadth and depth of whole-life training in individual and communal character development in Christ.

Because that is what is involved in the mission from Paul’s perspective. Over the long haul. In layers upon layers of teaching. Including equipping and passing on the missional torch to the saints themselves in this royal co-mission toward mature reigning together in Christ. And all by Christ’s Spirit of power and wisdom for the Father’s glory.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/15168932/fathers-aim-at-trusting-obedient-happy-children

Audio Transcript

Today we have a pair of solid Bible questions that, at first, don’t seem to be related, but they are. They’re united by Paul in Colossians 3:9–11. So I’ll lump them together in this episode. The first one is from a listener named Aaron. “Pastor John, hello! In light of Colossians 3:9–11, that we have put off the old self, and put on the new self, what role does ethnic identity now play in the Christian life? And why does Paul relate this identity to putting off the old self?” And the second question, on this same text, is from a listener named Justin. “Pastor John, hello, and thanks for considering my question. Paul says in Colossians 3:11 that ‘Christ is all, and in all.’ That seems very significant to me! Can you explain it?”

Yeah, it does sounds significant because it is significant. And it is beautiful. I mean, who wouldn’t want to know what that means for us? “Christ is all, and in all.” So let’s read it in context. Here’s Colossians 3, starting in the middle of verse 9:

You have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Here [and the here means “here in this church, in these relationships, in this group of people who have put off the old and put on the new”] there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. (Colossians 3:9–11)

Old Self, New Self

So Paul moves from individual newness in verse 10 to corporate or church or relational newness in verse 11. And it’s crucial to see that movement. A lot of people would like to deny that it moves that direction. But it moves from individual to corporate. Verse 10: “You have put off the old self [very individual] with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.”

“The church is made up of people whose old self has died and whose new self has been created in the image of Christ.”

Now, in order to understand what he’s going to say about the newness of the new relationships, we have to get at the essence of what the newness of the new self is. The church is made up of people whose old self has died and whose new self has been created in the image of Christ. God in Christ has brought a new creation into being, our new self. So, then, what is the central mark of the old self that died and the new self that lives? This is going to shape all our relationships.

In Galatians 5:24, Paul says that those who belong to Christ “have crucified the flesh.” So the old self, that which died, is called the flesh. What’s that? Romans 8:7 says the flesh is “hostile to God.” It’s insubordinate. It’s unable to please God. It’s our old rebellious self. When we became Christians, that self died.

What about the new self? What’s new about the new self? What marks it? The new self is the humble, believing self. “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God” (Galatians 2:20). That’s the new me, the me of faith. So I died; my old self died. The new life is the new life, or the new person, of faith. In other words, my hostile, insubordinate, spiritually paralyzed self died, and a new believing, trusting, dependent, humble self came into being.

Christ in Us

But here’s the crucial link with the statement “Christ is all, and in all.” Galatians 2:20 says, “The life I now live . . . I live by faith.” Yes, but it also says, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” In other words, another way to say that all Christians have put on a new believing self is to say that all Christians are indwelt by Christ. The essence of our newness is that we are not just Christ-trusting and Christ-treasuring, but we are Christ-inhabited. Our new life is Christ in us (Colossians 1:27). He is our inner life; he is our life (Colossians 3:4). If he were not there, we would be dead.

“We are not just Christ-trusting and Christ-treasuring, but we are Christ-inhabited.”

Therefore, when Colossians 3:11 says, “Christ is all, and in all,” the “in all” is the same as saying, “We have put off the old self and put on the new.” Our new self, individually, is Christ-inhabited — the Christ-indwelt self. Christ in us is our newness, the newness of every member. This is what it means to be a Christian. Every Christian should be able to say this.

Then from Christ’s place within each of us, he makes himself our supreme treasure. That’s what Paul means in Philippians 1 when he says, “To live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21) — and in Philippians 3 when he says, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ” (Philippians 3:8). So “Christ is all” means Christ has become more valuable than all, and it means whatever besides Christ has value for me, it has that value because of its relation to Christ.

Death to Old Boasts

Now we can relate all of this to the relationships in the community in verse 11. So verse 11 says, “Here [in this church where the old self has gone and the new self is put on] there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.”

Jew and Greek: the age-old hostility — some with covenant privilege, some without it and unclean latecomers.
Circumcised and uncircumcised: those who conform in all the traditions of the privileged people and those who bear no marks of that privilege.
Barbarians: the foreigners — uncultured, foolish by Greek and Jewish standards, with weird languages.
Scythian: the distant people to the north of the Black Sea, the epitome of unrefinement and savagery. Josephus wrote, “Scythians, who delight in murdering people, are little better than wild dogs.”
Slave and free: the opposite poles of the economic strata of society.

If Christ is all, and if Christ is in all, what becomes of those relationships? Once we boasted in our culture and our intellect, like the Greeks, but now Christ is all. Once we gloried in our tradition and our religious rigor, like the Jews, but now Christ is all. Once we got our strokes because of our ethnic pedigree, but now Christ is all. Once we reveled in not being like the barbarians and the shabby Scythians, but now Christ is all. Or once we resented not being the cultured, not being rigorous, not having the cultured pedigree, not having wealth and refinement, but now Christ is all.

Once we tried to find our significance and our happiness and our security in what we were in relation to other people or in distinction from other people.

“We’re Jews.”
“We’re Greeks.”
“We’re circumcised.”
“We’re free.”
“We’re American.”
“We’re rich.”
“We’re smart.”
“We’re strong.”
“We’re pretty.”
“We’re witty.”
“We’re cool.”

But then that old self died, a new self was born, and the core essence of the new self is that it knows and feels, “Christ is all.” “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” “To live is Christ.”

Our New Identity

And when someone asks, as I think one of these questioners does, “Does that mean that all the differences, the cultural and ethnic and racial differences, are canceled out because Christ is all?” the answer is no, it doesn’t. No Jew, no Greek, no barbarian, no Scythian, no slave, no freedman remains unchanged here. Everybody’s changed by discovering that Christ is all. Lots of things change for everybody. But none is obliterated.

I can see your Jewish nose. I can see your Greek forehead. I can hear your barbarian accent. I can see your Scythian gestures. I can see the hole in your earlobe left over. I can see the refinement of your bearing. None has ceased to be, except that Christ is in all of you. He is your new identity, and everything about you is being renewed after Christ. And shining as the mark of your new identity is this: “Christ is all.”

It is often difficult to know how to navigate between religious factions on the right and the left. To the right may be those who emphasize good doctrine but seem to stand at arm’s length from the world. To the left may be those who emphasize social engagement and activism but seem to have compromised theological fidelity.

Yet we are not the first generation of evangelicals to grapple with this tension. The evangelicals of the early twentieth century also found themselves uncomfortably sandwiched between two increasing extremes. But, by God’s providence, several evangelical theologians in the mid-twentieth century began championing a different way. The most influential of them was Carl F.H. Henry.

Henry was a brilliant theologian, journalist, seminary professor, and evangelical luminary, best known as the intellectual giant who served as the first editor-in-chief of Christianity Today, the magazine founded by Billy Graham. One of the magazine’s later editors, David Neff, said, “If we see Billy Graham as the great public face and generous spirit of the evangelical movement, Carl Henry was the brains.”

More than anyone else, Henry set forth compelling intellectual arguments in favor of a new strand of evangelicalism — an evangelicalism that combined passion for right doctrine with passion for cultural engagement. Henry emphasized both evangelism and social activism. He insisted that evangelicals prioritize both theological scholarship and practical ministry training. And he modeled how to properly challenge those with whom you disagree, calling evangelicals to do so with kindness and humility. Henry gives us a blueprint for how we can be committed to both orthodoxy and orthopraxy.

Fiery Bolt of Lightning

Carl Ferdinand Howard Henry was born on January 2, 1913, to German immigrants and grew up in Long Island, New York. He was baptized in the Episcopal church and attended Sunday school, but religion was not important in the Henry household.

After graduating high school in 1929, Henry began work as a freelance reporter. Within three years, he was the editor of a major newspaper in Long Island. He had become a “hard-nosed journalist given to pagan pleasures,” as Timothy George writes in Essential Evangelicalism (9).

One day in 1933, however, Henry was sitting alone in his car during a violent storm, when a lightning strike frightened him. He described the experience like this:

A fiery bolt of lightning, like a giant flaming arrow, seemed to pin me to the driver’s seat, and a mighty roll of thunder unnerved me. When the fire fell, I knew instinctively the Great Archer had nailed me to my own footsteps. Looking back, it was as if the transcendent Tetragrammaton wished me to know that I could not save myself and that heaven’s intervention was my only hope. (Confessions of a Theologian, 45–46)

Soon after, Henry had a long conversation with a young evangelist named Gene Bedford. After that conversation, Henry embraced Jesus as Savior.

Henry enrolled at Wheaton College in 1935, where he met Helga Bender, the daughter of Baptist missionaries. Carl and Helga married in 1940, beginning a 63-year marriage. He also developed a friendship with fellow classmate Billy Graham during his Wheaton years. Their friendship would last a lifetime and yield much fruit.

After earning a BA and an MA from Wheaton as well as a BDiv and a ThD from Northern Baptist Theological Seminary, Henry pursued a PhD at Boston University. It was during his time in Boston that he strengthened his friendship with Harold John Ockenga, pastor of the historic Park Street Church. Together, Henry, Ockenga, and Graham became the three primary leaders of the resurgence of evangelicalism in the mid-twentieth century.

New Kind of Evangelical

Henry and Ockenga wanted to propagate a new brand of evangelicalism that avoided the social pull to both left and right extremes. The proponents of this new strand — often called neo-evangelicals — wanted to be more socially conscious than the fundamentalism of the previous decades, even as they stood for the same basic doctrines. They also were willing to work across denominational lines, hoping for a broader coalition of Christian leaders.

Henry and Ockenga believed that Christianity had faltered culturally due to a lack of intellectual rigor among Christian leaders. The neo-evangelicals were convinced that if they were going to influence society, they needed to regain respect in academia. Evangelicalism would need to produce world-class scholars who could engage the elite intellectual centers, and thus “meet theological liberals on their own ground and beat them at their own game,” as Albert Mohler puts it.

With these goals in mind, Henry helped pioneer several key evangelical initiatives, including the National Association of Evangelicals (1942) and the Evangelical Theological Society (1949). In 1947, Ockenga and radio evangelist Charles Fuller launched Fuller Theological Seminary to be the flagship neo-evangelical institution, and they immediately recruited Henry to be the school’s founding dean. Henry remained on the faculty of Fuller until he became the first editor-in-chief of Christianity Today magazine in 1956. The magazine quickly became tremendously influential, largely due to Henry’s leadership.

These initiatives led to an explosion in evangelical scholarship. Before the neo-evangelical movement, evangelicals heavily relied on nineteenth-century conservative scholarship. Evangelicals were mocked for “relying on book reprints,” as Roger Nicole says (quoted in Awakening the Evangelical Mind, 168). However, in the second half of the twentieth century, evangelical scholars “produced works on history, psychology, pastoral theology, homiletics, family relations, the devotional life, denominational distinctive, and scores of other subjects,” Nicole says. “The problem in 1945 was that we had relatively few new conservative books; the problem now is that there are so many that few people can afford to purchase all those they would like to own.” As evangelical scholarship exploded, Henry led the way, earning his nickname “the dean of the evangelicals.”

Henry wrote more than forty books and countless articles, essays, and reviews throughout his career. His magnum opus was the three-thousand page, six-volume work God, Revelation, and Authority. This remarkable work thoroughly explores epistemology, divine self-revelation, hermeneutics, authority, and the nature of truth. Gregory Alan Thornbury sums up the project by saying that Henry wanted to present a theology that was “epistemologically viable, methodologically coherent, biblically accurate, socially responsible, evangelistically oriented, and universally applied.”

What Can We Learn from Henry?

If Henry were alive today, what might he say to modern evangelicals? An examination of Henry’s life and writings gives us insight into how he might address us.

Evangelism

Henry’s first exhortation might be toward evangelism. He writes,

It would be a supreme act of lovelessness on the part of the Christian community to withhold from the body of humanity, lost in sin, the evangel that Christ died for sinners and that the new birth is available on the condition of personal repentance and faith. (Evangelicals at the Brink of Crisis, 36)

Henry observed that far too many Christians had relegated evangelism to the professional evangelists — absolving themselves from any responsibility in the Great Commission by claiming that they weren’t gifted for the task.

During the early years of Fuller Seminary, Henry’s fervor for evangelism permeated the school’s culture. He fostered an “evangelistically alive missionary minded and warm collegial side of early Fuller community life,” as John Woodbridge puts it. Historian George Marsden has shared one student’s memory of Dr. Henry often arriving to lecture at early Saturday morning seminars looking “bedraggled in an old baggy overcoat [because] he would periodically spend half the night out in Los Angeles witnessing to derelicts and helping them find shelter” (Reforming Fundamentalism, 91). Henry was just as much an evangelist as he was a theologian or journalist.

“Henry was just as much an evangelist as he was a theologian or journalist.”

Henry balked at the idea that evangelism and theological studies were at odds. In his 1966 opening address to the World Congress on Evangelism in Berlin, he proclaimed the urgent need for biblically faithful theologian-evangelists. He knew that evangelistic efforts uninformed by good theology would lead to doctrinal confusion and weak discipleship. But he also knew that when theologians lack evangelistic fervor, they become too insular and persnickety. Henry challenged the delegates to “become theologian evangelists, rather than to remain content as just theologians or just evangelists,” John Woodbridge writes (Essential Evangelicalism, 82).

Justice

In 1947, Henry published his most famous book, The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism, in response to the idea that there were only two options for Protestants: theological liberalism or a culturally detached fundamentalism. This book was a clarion call for evangelicals to reject this false dichotomy.

Henry wanted evangelicals to lead the way in both theological integrity and social activism. He often said, “God is both the God of justice and justification.” Henry believed that the most important task was “the preaching of the gospel, in the interest of individual regeneration,” but he also believed that Christians ought to present the gospel “as the best solution of our problems, individual and social” (The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism, 89).

God, in his self-revelation, gives us the best definition of justice. Therefore, Christians should be the greatest advocates for justice, on God’s terms, in any society — presenting God’s ways as the perfect picture of justice and righteousness. Henry writes, “Evangelicals know that injustice is reprehensible not simply because it is anti-human but because it is anti-God” (A Plea for Evangelical Demonstration, 14).

Uneasy Conscience challenged evangelical leaders to address justice-related issues and to condemn social evils such as racism, exploitation of labor, and aggressive warfare. According to Henry, we should not be able to “look with indifference upon miscarriages of justice in the law courts, usury, plundering the needy, failure to feed and clothe the poor, and over-charging for merchandise” (33). In true Kuyperian-fashion, he writes, “The evangelical missionary message cannot be measured for success by the number of converts only. The Christian message has a salting effect upon the earth. It aims at a re-created society” (84).

Politics

Henry called upon more evangelicals to call out injustice in their writings, believing this would change hearts and minds. He also knew, however, that merely changing minds was not enough. To inspire societal change, he knew Christians needed to help change policies too.

In his editorials, he often made arguments for specific pieces of legislation and policy changes. In Henry’s mind, it was not enough to simply get people to agree if such agreement did not lead to any practical effect. So, he was willing, as an editor, to publicly endorse specific ideas and frameworks in which the proper solutions to social ills could be found.

“Henry would challenge us to cut against the harmful ideologies of both the left and the right.”

The key for Henry, however, was to focus on ideas and frameworks rather than political parties. Henry would challenge us to cut against the harmful ideologies of both the left and the right. He would tell us to endorse good policies, regardless of which side of the aisle they come from, and he would warn evangelicals against becoming too loyal to one political party. Henry mostly agreed with conservative politics, but he insisted that evangelical leaders ought to avoid becoming mouthpieces for the conservative political movement in America. This put him at odds with the more conservative board members and financiers of Christianity Today, who wanted an outspoken politically conservative voice for the magazine’s editorials. This eventually cost Henry his job as editor-in-chief.

Henry understood the power of politics, but he also understood the limitations too. He knew that policy changes could go only so far in the effort to reshape society. If Henry were alive today, he would exhort us to be careful to not put too much stock in political efforts. He knew that evangelicals needed to pour their greatest energies into gospel preaching and evangelism.

Rhetoric

Along with greater social engagement, the neo-evangelicals wanted to strike a more positive tone than the fundamentalists of the previous generation. Henry did not shy away from giving scathing warnings whenever necessary, but he often voiced striking notes of optimism and hope.

In Uneasy Conscience, Henry asserts that evangelicals need to present their doctrine and ideas with a “dynamic to give it hope” (55). He wanted to engage with society, not just win an argument. After hearing the evangelical message, Henry wanted people to feel a sense of hope that there is indeed a better way.

He also understood that our rhetoric matters. He knew that irenic and hopeful rhetoric would allow him to build rapport with people who otherwise might discredit or ignore him. For Henry, however, being irenic and hopeful was not merely a tactic in some quest to win more people to his side. Rather, such rhetoric was theologically informed.

The ministry of Christ was personal and incarnational; therefore, Henry believed that the theologian must also be personal and incarnational. He wanted people to see the Savior through his life, so he sought to interact with others in the same manner as Christ. Timothy George, who spent significant time with Carl Henry, says, “The thing that stands out was his extraordinary humility and kindness toward others. . . . I never heard him speak in a bitter or disparaging way about anybody, not even those with whom he disagreed” (Essential Evangelicalism, 14). Modern evangelicals would be wise to follow Henry’s model.

Humble Giant

Marvin Olasky, former editor-in-chief of World magazine, shares an anecdote (recounted by Thornbury) from the life of Henry that gives us great insight into his humility.

For several years toward the end of his life, Henry wrote op-ed columns for World. Olasky said that every few weeks he would get a letter in the mail from Henry — typically a three-page article. And in each letter, Henry always included a self-addressed stamped postcard with the handwritten words: Accept or Reject. He never presumed that what he had to say was worthy of being published.

Henry was a remarkable leader and scholar. He was an impressive theologian. His evangelistic fervor was contagious. His kindness was sincere. His body of work is second to none in his generation. And his humility ran deep.

Soon after Henry’s death on December 7, 2003, David S. Dockery wrote this tribute: “Those who met him for the first time often stood in awe of his giant intellect. But soon, almost without exception, they became more impressed with his humility and gracious spirit.”

Banner Illustration taken from Essential Evangelicalism: The Enduring Influence of Carl F. H. Henry, edited by Matthew J. Hall and Owen Strachan, Copyright © 2015. Used by permission of Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers, Wheaton, IL 60187, www.crossway.org.

Tucked away in the book of Daniel, sandwiched between stories about fiery furnaces and lions on the one hand, and visions of statues, beasts, and rising kings on the other, is an extended prayer with a shockingly immediate answer.

Daniel 9 contains an extended, earnest, and heartfelt prayer by the prophet. And before he even says “Amen,” the angel Gabriel is standing before him, ready to give insight and understanding to the broken-hearted prophet. What did Daniel pray that caused God to immediately dispatch an angel with an answer? And can Daniel’s prayer instruct us today in how to pray?

Plot Against Prayer

Daniel’s prayer is a dated prayer. “In the first year of Darius the son of Ahasuerus” (Daniel 9:1). And the particular timing mentioned draws attention to one of the most famous stories in the Bible. At the end of Daniel 5, Darius the Mede conquers the Chaldeans and dethrones Belshazzar. In chapter 6, he appoints 120 local rulers as governors over his kingdom, with high officials overseeing them. Daniel is one of these high officials. Indeed, he is distinguished above all of the high officials because of the excellent spirit (or is it Spirit?) residing in him (Daniel 6:1–3).

Darius plans to elevate Daniel over all the other officials, provoking them to jealousy. They then plot to find fault with Daniel in hopes of bringing him down. After examining his life, they conclude, “We shall not find any ground for complaint against this Daniel unless we find it in connection with the law of his God” (Daniel 6:5).

Soon enough, they do find a ground for complaint against Daniel — his habits of prayer. Daniel’s custom is to pray three times per day with an open window facing Jerusalem. The jealous officials manipulate Darius into passing an irrevocable decree against praying to anyone except the king (Daniel 6:6–9). And Daniel’s defiance of this decree famously lands him in the lions’ den (Daniel 6:10–16).

What is the relevance for the prayer of Daniel 9? It’s likely that Daniel 9 is the sort of prayer that Daniel was praying with that famous window open. What’s more, if we’re attentive to the whole Scriptures, we can better understand why Daniel was praying with a window open facing Jerusalem.

Solomon, Jeremiah, and Daniel

In 1 Kings 8, Solomon is dedicating the temple of the Lord. As he nears the end of his prayer, he contemplates the possibility (and even likelihood) that the people of Israel will sin grievously against God. When they do, God will, in fulfillment of the warnings of Deuteronomy, give them over to their enemies so that Israel will be carried captive into a foreign land.

Nevertheless, God will remain faithful to his promises and his people, even as he sends them into exile. In Solomon’s request, notice the specific direction his exiled people ought to pray:

Yet if they turn their heart in the land to which they have been carried captive, and repent and plead with you in the land of their captors, saying, “We have sinned and have acted perversely and wickedly,” if they repent with all their heart and with all their soul in the land of their enemies, who carried them captive, and pray to you toward their land, which you gave to their fathers, the city that you have chosen, and the house that I have built for your name, then hear in heaven your dwelling place their prayer and their plea, and maintain their cause and forgive your people who have sinned against you, and all their transgressions that they have committed against you, and grant them compassion in the sight of those who carried them captive, that they may have compassion on them (for they are your people, and your heritage, which you brought out of Egypt, from the midst of the iron furnace). (1 Kings 8:47–51)

Solomon specifically mentions repenting and praying from exile toward Israel, toward Jerusalem. Thus, Daniel’s actions make perfect sense. He is following Solomon’s instructions in hope that God will have compassion and restore his people.

Beyond Solomon’s dedication, the immediate cause of Daniel’s prayer is Jeremiah’s prophecy concerning the seventy weeks. Recorded in Jeremiah 25, the prophet rebukes Israel for her stubbornness and promises God’s judgment through Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, who will lay waste to Israel. Babylon will be triumphant for seventy years, after which God will bring judgment upon them for their own sins. Daniel has this prophecy in mind when he offers his own prayer of repentance (Daniel 9:2).

Lessons from Daniel’s Prayer

These particulars matter. Daniel offered this prayer at a specific moment in redemptive history, under the covenant that God made with Moses, during the time when Jerusalem was the center of the spiritual universe. Today we are in a different redemptive era, under the new covenant, when the heavenly Jerusalem is the center of the universe.

Nonetheless, there are truths that span the covenants. Despite our differences in time, redemptive era, location, and circumstances, Daniel’s prayer was still “written for our instruction, that . . . we might have hope” (Romans 15:4). So how does Daniel’s prayer give us hope?

Confess Clearly

First, Daniel says “Amen” to God’s judgment. Daniel’s prayer is fundamentally a prayer of confession and repentance. Again and again, Daniel acknowledges the sin of God’s people. “We have sinned. We have done wrong. We have acted wickedly. We have rebelled. We have turned aside from your commandments. We have not listened to your prophets. We have committed treachery. We have not obeyed your voice.” Twenty times, Daniel acknowledges that Israel has sinned. You will look in vain for any rationalizations in this prayer. Daniel is not asking God to excuse Israel’s sin; he is asking God to forgive Israel’s sin. And forgiveness begins with saying “Amen” to God’s judgment.

“Daniel teaches us to mince no words in confession, to use no euphemisms, to soft-pedal no transgressions.”

And this instructs us. We all are prone to justify and rationalize our sin, to ask God to excuse us for what we’ve done, rather than asking him to forgive us for what we’ve done. But Daniel teaches us to mince no words in confession, to use no euphemisms, to soft-pedal no transgressions; indeed, the great variety of terms for sin and wickedness in his prayer teaches us to labor to be clear before God about the precise ways that we have fallen short of his standards.

Remember Specifically

Second, Daniel remembers God’s word and God’s works. In confessing, Daniel directly quotes Deuteronomy 7:9, and frames his prayer by Israel’s failure to obey the law of Moses (Daniel 9:11). In punishing Israel, God is simply confirming the oaths and curses he laid down in Deuteronomy 28. Even more than that, Daniel remembers the great works of God, especially the exodus, when God brought his people out of Egypt with a mighty hand (Daniel 9:15).

“God is pleased with Bible-shaped and Scripture-saturated prayers.”

This too instructs us. God is pleased with Bible-shaped and Scripture-saturated prayers. It is good and right for us to orient our confession, our repentance, and our supplications in light of God’s laws, his promises, and his warnings. By using Scripture to frame our own prayers, we approach God in a way that he has established, with words that he has inspired, and thus we have greater confidence that he will hear and answer.

Plead Confidently

Third, Daniel pleads for God’s mercy. Even as he says “Amen” to the judgment of God, Daniel appeals to Yahweh’s mercy and forgiveness (Daniel 9:9). Daniel knows that judgment is not God’s final word. And thus, he asks for God to again shine his face on his sanctuary (Daniel 9:17), and to turn aside his anger that has cast his people into exile. In doing so, Daniel demonstrates his deep faith in Yahweh’s fundamental character toward his people: he is a God compassionate and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love (Exodus 34:6–7).

We too can approach God’s throne with confidence because we know it is a throne of grace. Whatever chastisement and discipline he brings, mercy reigns in the heart of God. He will by no means clear the guilty, but he loves to forgive those who turn to him in humble faith.

Unifying Thread

Finally, what ties these elements together is God’s righteousness — his unswerving commitment to uphold the glory of his name. Underneath Daniel’s “Amen” to God’s judgment, underneath Daniel’s remembrance of God’s word and works, and underneath Daniel’s appeal to God’s mercy is Daniel’s sure faith that God is uppermost in God’s affections. To the Lord belongs righteousness, and therefore he has punished his people (Daniel 9:7). His judgment is a fulfillment of his commitment to his word; he will not overlook transgressions against his law (Daniel 9:11–12). He is righteous to bring this judgment.

But more than that, he is righteous in showing mercy. Daniel appeals to God’s love for his name. God made a name for himself in delivering Israel from Egypt (Daniel 9:15). And now, Daniel roots his plea for mercy in God’s righteousness (Daniel 9:16). Israel has become a byword; the nations mock at the once-great nation and the once-great city of Jerusalem. But this nation and this city are called by the name of Yahweh. And therefore, Daniel’s final plea is not based on Israel’s righteousness, but on God’s name.

Now therefore, O our God, listen to the prayer of your servant and to his pleas for mercy, and for your own sake, O Lord, make your face to shine upon your sanctuary, which is desolate. O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy. O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive. O Lord, pay attention and act. Delay not, for your own sake, O my God, because your city and your people are called by your name. (Daniel 9:17–19)

So too for us. When we approach God, we do not come based on our righteousness. How could we? Instead, we beg God to act on our behalf for his own sake. Indeed, as those who live under God’s new covenant, we appeal to him in the name of his Son Jesus. We plead for God to hear and forgive and pay attention and act on our behalf because we are called by the name of his Son, the great and awesome God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with his blood-bought people.

If the CROSS conference had existed twenty years ago, when I was a college student, I would have been here. So it feels relatively easy to put myself in your shoes. I’ve asked myself, What was it that I needed to hear as a young adult about how to meet God each day?

If it were just one thing, I think it would be this: gather a day’s portion. You might call it “faithful realism” in daily Bible intake. In short, not trying to do too much. Not trying to acquire a lifetime’s worth of Bible knowledge in a few short months, or weeks! (And not falling off the wagon and doing nothing when you get discouraged.) Rather, adopting a modest, realistic approach in seeking to meet with God, in his word, and seeking to be faithful over time. And coming to God, through his word, to be fed, to be nourished — to receive, not achieve.

So, gather a day’s portion. I’ll flesh out this vision in five brief aspects, but first let me set the scene for where the phrase “gather a day’s portion” comes from in Exodus 16.

Bread from Heaven

In Exodus 14, God’s people have just been freed from slavery in Egypt and passed through the Red Sea. Moses and the people erupt in a song of praise in the first half of chapter 15 (vv. 1–21), but in barely three days, the people already are grumbling (Exodus 15:22–24). God responds with grace — he “heals” the bitter water, and brings them to a place of plenty, an oasis with “twelve springs of water and seventy palm trees” (Exodus 15:27).

Once they set out from the oasis, soon they are grumbling again (Exodus 16:2), now to the point of delusion (Exodus 16:3). Again, God responds with grace. He says in Exodus 16:4, “Behold, I am about to rain bread from heaven for you, and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day.”

This bread from heaven they call “manna,” and Moses gives the further instruction in verse Exodus 16:16, “Gather of it, each one of you, as much as he can eat.”

Gathering Every Day

Now, Exodus 16 is not first and foremost about Christian Bible reading today and how to meet God each day. But it does give us a glimpse into who our God is, and what it means to have him as our God and for us to be his people. He is the kind of God who provides for our needs on an everyday basis. He is the God who is with his people every step of the way, to give us, by his own hand, daily provision in the wilderness — any place in the world — to get us safely to his promised land. And he loves to feed his people a day at a time.

“God loves to feed his people a day at a time.”

Jesus taught us to pray to our Father, “Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11), and he warns us not to adopt the build-bigger-barns mindset of the rich fool, who put his hope for the future in his own store rather than in the Father’s daily, active care (Luke 12:13–21).

God wants our sitting down with his Book, to meet with him each day, to be more like coming to dinner than going to the grocery store. Come to eat and drink, here and now, for today, not mainly to store up for someday in the future. God doesn’t mean for us to focus on developing our own stash and personal pantry, but to feed straight from his warehouse.

So, coming to God’s word to gather a day’s portion has come to have at least these five brief aspects for me.

Plan

First is a plan, which includes time and place. It was no accident that Jesus rose early, and the united testimony of centuries of faithful saints has been that the quiet of first thing in the morning is far and away the best time for far and away the most Christians. One way I think about it is that I want God’s voice, in his word, to be the first voice I hear each day. Most will find out over time that it is worth it to get off your screen the night before, and get to bed on time, and get up early — before all the people who stayed up too late on their screens — and meet with the living God, in his word, in those quietest and least-distracting moments of the day.

Plan also includes place, which I mean in two senses: in the world and in the word. In the world means the physical location in which you’ll open your Bible. For me, I want an uncluttered desk or table. In the word means a planned place in the Bible to open to. I would not recommend opening at random, or just bouncing around each day with whatever feels interesting on the spur of the moment. This is where a reading plan can help for balance in the long term and clarity about where to go today. Find a time-tested reading plan, and take each day’s assigned readings as God’s gift to you that morning for his feeding of your soul.

Pace

Second is pace. This is so important. I suspect so many seasons of Bible reading are ruined by rushing and impatience. Modern life can be so hurried. There are so many options and still just 24 hours in the day. So, we hurry. We hurry through meals. Hurry on the roads. Hurry to scroll through our feeds. Hurry when we read articles and books, often just skimming, because we feel like we’re always running out of time. But hurry ruins Bible reading. I think it hampers most reading, but Bible reading all the more.

In a life of hurry, let your daily season in God’s word be your first stance against the tides. Slow down when you open the Bible. Find the pace that accords with nourishing your soul for the day. God’s word is not fast food. For me, this means I need enough time to lose track of time. I need to find the pace that frees me to follow rabbit trails and check cross-references that come into my own head, or check the ones in the margin — that I have space to try to understand Scripture in the world of Scripture. What previous and later scriptures sound like this one, or use the same categories and language and terms and images?

Pause

Third is pause. What I want to highlight here is the importance of meditation. Not just reading. As you read, and slowly, find some place to pause, to linger and ponder some striking truth, some unexpected ray of God’s goodness, some glimpse of his beauty.

In meditation, you pause and ponder some truth, roll it around on the tongue of your soul, seeking to not only understand it but enjoy it, or feel the weight of it. Which leads, then, to addressing God (in prayer) as his word has addressed us and gone deep in us in meditation.

Prayer

So, fourth is prayer. Meditation is a bridge between Bible reading and prayer. Instead of doing your Bible readings over here, and then pivoting to prayer lists over here, let your Bible reading lead to meditation, and meditation then lead to prayer.

Here’s my little arc for what I’m seeking to do each morning with my Bible open:

Begin with Bible.
Move to meditation.
Polish with prayer.

To meet with God is not only to hear his words in the Bible, but also to speak back to him, in response to his word, in prayer. It’s a relationship. First, God speaks in his word, and we listen deeply and take it all the way in through meditation. Then, amazingly, God wants to hear back from us. In Christ, we have his ear. He means for us now, in light of what he says in his word, to address him in praise, thanks, confession, and supplication.

Person

Fifth and finally is the person, whose name is Jesus. Meeting with God, in his word, is no mere activity. It’s not mainly an exercise in learning. It is meeting with a person, who is not only God but also man like us. To see Jesus — by the Spirit, through the word — is to see the Father. To know him is to know God. To enjoy him is to enjoy God. To feed your soul on him is to have true life.

“Our most pressing need is not to master the Bible but to be mastered by God in Christ, through his word.”

Bible reading and meditation and prayer are means to an end. They are God’s means of grace to the great end of knowing and enjoying Jesus as the Pearl of Great Price (Matthew 13:45–46), as the great Treasure hidden in a field and found in joy (Matthew 13:44), as the Surpassing Value worth counting all as loss to have (Philippians 3:8).

So, gather a day’s portion is my reminder not to try to do too much in morning devotions, and not to miss the main thing. Our most pressing need is not to master the Bible but to be mastered by God in Christ, through his word, in a day’s portion, for a lifetime.

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast on this Monday. If you were with us Friday, we looked at the sin that remains in us as believers. And it raises another question, one about confession for sin. If God has “forgiven us all our trespasses,” and if all our sins were “canceled” at the cross, why do we need to continue to repent?

It’s a question inspired by the glorious truth of Christ’s finished work in Colossians 2:13–14. It comes from a listener named Judy who lives in Rockford, Illinois. “Dear Pastor John, I’m struggling with a question regarding God’s word and want your input. Once we have repented and turned to the Lord for salvation, is it necessary to repent every time we sin afterward? I’ve always believed that. But recently someone told me that after our initial repentance, at the time of salvation, ongoing repentance is no longer necessary.

“At first, I was flummoxed! But then there are so many verses that say he has forgiven our sins, past, present, and future. Colossians 2:13–14 for example. Christ has forgiven all our sins, canceled all our debts, and has nailed it all to the cross finally and fully! So am I doubting this work if I go on repenting for sin? I’m a former Roman Catholic, and this ongoing confession of sin reminds me of their way of keeping Jesus on the cross through false traditions. Can you help me think this through?”

Maybe the most important thing that I could do to help Judy is to point her and the rest of us to the all-important distinction between redemption as something that is already accomplished and finished, once for all — never to be repeated or added to — and redemption that is applied to us when we’re saved, when we’re converted, and then in an ongoing way, now and forever.

And in making that distinction, we will see that forgiveness of sins, which is what she asked in particular, can be viewed in these two ways, accomplished and applied — which relate, I think, directly to her question. So let me unpack this understanding of redemption for just a moment and then look at her question specifically.

Four Once-for-All Victories

Here’s what I mean by the once-for-all, finished, complete, never-to-be-repeated, never-to-be-added-to redemption. When Christ died on the cross for his bride, the church, as Paul says in Ephesians 5:25–27, he accomplished at least four decisive, once-for-all things.

“Christ offered a perfect sin-covering sacrifice to God — so perfect that it never needs to be repeated.”

First, Christ offered a perfect sin-covering sacrifice to God — so perfect that, unlike the Old Testament sacrifices, it never needs to be repeated; it cannot be repeated. “[Christ] has no need, like those high priests, to offer sacrifices daily, first for his own sins and then for those of the people, since he did this once for all when he offered up himself” (Hebrews 7:27). In other words, a perfect, once-for-all, never-to-be-repeated sacrifice for sin — that happened decisively on the cross.

Second, this sacrifice accomplished what the New Testament calls propitiation. “God put [Christ] forward as a propitiation by his blood [in other words, when he died], to be received [when you come into existence two thousand years later] by faith” (Romans 3:25). This means that the sacrifice of Christ provided a holy and righteous satisfaction for the demands of God’s justice in the punishment of sin, and so his condemning wrath is removed forever from his people.

Third, positively the New Testament calls this reconciliation. From God’s side, the hostility of wrath is removed toward his Son’s bride.

And fourth, by this sacrifice, God decisively purchased — paid the finished price for — the liberty of his people from sin and wrath and death and Satan. “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). That’s finished; that’s done; the price has been paid.

So these four realities are what I mean by a once-for-all, finished, complete, never-to-be-repeated redemption. It happened in history, before we ever existed. It was outside ourselves. I can remember, what, 45 years ago, sitting in a seminary class where for the first time I heard the Latin phrase extra nos (“outside ourselves”), because of Luther, and it had just never hit me before that all the decisive things had been done already for me.

So God did this for everyone who would be united to Christ: a perfect final sacrifice, an all-satisfying propitiation, a glorious reconciliation from God’s side with the removal of all divine condemnation, a full purchase of our liberty from wrath and sin and death and Satan forever, a finished price paid.

Forgiveness Accomplished and Applied

Then the question becomes, how does this once-for-all redemption get applied to actual people — us, individuals in real life? Of course, we could write books — I mean, books and books — on the answer to that question.

He calls us out of darkness into light. He regenerates us by the Holy Spirit. He unites us to Christ so that everything Christ accomplished is made ours in him. He gives us the gift of faith. He justifies us. He adopts us. He sanctifies us over a lifetime. He causes us to persevere to the end. He intercedes for us continually in heaven. He glorifies us with life and joy forever in his presence. All of that is the application to us, individually, of what was decisively secured two thousand years ago, once for all, when Christ died and rose again.

And Judy’s question relates now to the forgiveness of sins and the ongoing act of what she calls repentance. So let’s put forgiveness of sins into this understanding of redemption accomplished and redemption applied — which, by the way, is the title of a very important book by John Murray that I recommend to everybody to read if you want to go deep and get a lot of help about these things: Redemption Accomplished and Applied.

Ephesians 1:7 says — so I’m focusing now on forgiveness of sins and trying to see whether the Bible puts it into this framework — “In [Christ] we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses.” In other words, in the shedding of Christ’s blood, once for all in history, all who are in Christ have forgiveness for all their sins. We have it — he says we have it. We have it absolutely secure. We have it purchased for us. That’s what the blood accomplished and secured.

Colossians 2:14, which she referred to, says that the record of our debts was nailed to the cross. That’s what I would call forgiveness accomplished: price paid, redemption offered, nails driven, forgiveness secured. It is accomplished.

Then Acts 10:43 says, “Everyone who believes in [Christ] receives forgiveness of sins through his name.” When we believe, we receive the forgiveness Christ purchased. That’s forgiveness applied. So when we become Christians, we are united to Christ so that the forgiveness he purchased becomes the forgiveness we experience. And since the purchase was complete, and he nailed the whole record of our debt to the cross, therefore the whole purchase will be experienced — it will be. God doesn’t lose any of his own.

How to Handle Daily Sins

Here’s the final question, then. Since we are conformed to Christ progressively and not all at once, therefore Christians are going to sin. There are no sinless Christians in action. “If you say you have no sin, you’re a liar,” John said (see 1 John 1:8–10). What should our attitude be, then, toward our ongoing acts and attitudes and words of sin?

No genuine Christian who loves Christ can be cavalier about the very thing Christ died to abolish — namely, our sin. That would be one mistake we could make: we could be cavalier in our attitude. “Well, he died to forgive them all, so they don’t really matter, because they’re all covered by blood.” No true Christian talks like that about his own sin.

“Confessing is not a payment. It is simply an agreement with God that this was an ugly and unworthy thing for me to do.”

But the other mistake would be to panic and feel that with every sin, there needs to be a new redemption, a new sacrifice, a new penance. And I mention penance because that might be what Judy feels, perhaps, coming out of her former religious tradition that she mentions. “I have to pay something, right? I see it. I have to pay something. I have to make this right.” That would be a great mistake. The payment was perfect. You can’t add to it at all. You can’t add to your sin-covering at all.

Instead, what the New Testament says, in 1 John 1:9, is this: “If we confess” — and I’m underlining that word confess. Repentance or penance might not be the most helpful word here. Just stick with John’s word. Confess means “agree with,” “see it the way God sees it,” “feel about it the way God feels about it.” So John says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

So confessing is not a payment. It is simply an agreement with God that this was an ugly and unworthy thing for me to do, and I’m ashamed of it. I’m sorry for it. I turn from it. I embrace the finished, complete, perfect, once-for-all work of Christ afresh. I rest in it. I enjoy the fellowship that he secured.