Every time we reread a great book, we inevitably get something new out of it. This isn’t because the book changes, but because we do. Meaning is stable, but we grow and mature (at least, we ought to). And as we do, we become attentive to truth in new ways; we have a broader and richer framework that enables us to see more in the books we read (and read again).

This is true even of children’s books. Perhaps especially of children’s books. My appreciation of Narnia, for instance, is no secret. I’ve read the series dozens of times. On my most recent journey through the wardrobe, an important theme in the final book lit up for me in a fresh way. And then my own Bible reading connected with that theme and brought the whole matter home.

“Passions are the impulsive, almost instinctive motions of the soul. They are good, but dangerous.”

The theme is the centrality of the passions in the early chapters of The Last Battle. Passions are the impulsive, almost instinctive motions of the soul. They are good, but dangerous. They are our immediate reactions to reality, such as fear, anxiety, desire, pity, grief, and anger. It’s this last passion that figures prominently in The Last Battle. What happens when our anger, however justified in itself, goes unchecked and becomes rash? And are there any ways to rein it in?

The Rashness of the King

The second chapter opens with King Tirian and his close friend Jewel the Unicorn in a state of reverie over the news that Aslan has returned to Narnia. Aslan’s arrival is the most wonderful news imaginable. Their joy is interrupted, however, by Roonwit the Centaur, who claims that the news of Aslan’s arrival is a lie.

“A lie!” said the King fiercely. “What creature in Narnia or all the world would dare to lie on such a matter?” And, without knowing it, he laid his hand on his sword hilt. (20)

Note the intensity of the King’s reaction. More importantly, notice where that reaction takes him. His hand goes to his sword “without knowing it.” In other words, his impulsive passion moved him to react, apart from the guidance of his mind.

We see the same rashness a few moments later when the Dryad emerges from the forest, crying out for justice over the destruction of the talking trees. When Tirian hears it, he leaps to his feet and draws his sword. There are no enemies present. Nevertheless, the sword is drawn, perhaps again without him fully realizing what he’s doing. His passions are in control.

Anger Invites More Anger

When the Dryad falls to the ground dead, Tirian is speechless in his grief and anger. He then calls Jewel and Roonwit to immediately join him in a journey to put to death the villains who have committed this murder. They are to leave “with all the speed we may.” Jewel concurs, but Roonwit cautions. “Sire, be wary in your just wrath” (22). In your anger, Roonwit says, do not sin. Do not be unwise. Let us wait to gather troops and see the strength of the enemy.

But Tirian will “not wait the tenth part of a second.” His wrath is kindled and steering the ship. He and Jewel set out, with Tirian muttering to himself and clenching his fists. He’s so angry he doesn’t even feel the coldness of the water when they ford a river. His anger has him by the throat and will not let go.

After discovering that Aslan is apparently the one who ordered the felling of the trees, Tirian and Jewel press on toward the danger. The narrator comments,

[Jewel] did not see at the moment how foolish it was for two of them to go on alone; nor did the King. They were too angry to think clearly. But much evil came of their rashness in the end. (25)

This is the issue: they are too angry to think clearly. However righteous their anger at the injustice before them, the rashness of that anger leads to folly. They are impulsively reacting, not intentionally responding, and the results will be great evil and harm.

What Can Check Anger?

We don’t have to wait long for some of that evil to manifest. When the two come upon a talking horse being beaten and whipped by Calormen soldiers, their anger reaches a fever pitch.

When Tirian knew that the Horse was one of his own Narnians, there came over him and over Jewel such a rage that they did not know what they were doing. The King’s sword went up, the Unicorn’s horn went down. They rushed forward together. Next moment, both the Calormenes lay dead, the one beheaded by Tirian’s sword and the other gored through the heart by Jewel’s horn. (27)

“If unchecked and rash anger leads to great folly, evil, and bloodshed, what can check such a passion?”

Over and over, we see the theme of this chapter — from the hand on the sword without knowing it, to being too angry to think clearly, to being so filled with rage that they don’t know what they are doing even as they kill two men. The unchecked rashness of the king has led to great bloodshed.

I’d like to bring the rashness of Tirian into conversation with a story from the Scriptures and ask, If unchecked and rash anger leads to great folly, evil, and bloodshed, what can check such a passion?

The Rashness of the Anointed

The biblical story is a familiar one from the life of David. He is dwelling in the wilderness because he is estranged from King Saul, who is in the grip of the passion of envy. David has twice spared Saul’s life and thereby earned a respite of sorts from Saul’s pursuit. Samuel is dead, and David and his men are in the wilderness of Paran, low on supplies.

David sends some messengers to Nabal, a wealthy man who lives close by. Nabal is preparing a feast, and David asks for favor and supplies. This request is not out of the blue. David and his men have been camped near Nabal’s shepherds. Not only have they refrained from plundering his flocks, but they have actually ensured that no one else does either. David and his men were a wall to Nabal’s flocks by day and night (1 Samuel 25:16). Neither thief nor beast ravaged his flock. It is in light of this protection that David makes his humble request, identifying himself as a son and servant to Nabal (1 Samuel 25:8).

Nabal responds with derision and insults. “Who is David? Who is the son of Jesse? There are many servants these days who are breaking away from their masters” (1 Samuel 25:10–11). In other words, “David, you are an unworthy outlaw, a rebel against the king. And I will not give my bread and my water and my meat to men from who knows where.”

When David hears of the insult, he responds like the last King of Narnia. “Every man strap on his sword!” (1 Samuel 25:13). In his anger, he and his men immediately set out to avenge the insult. And their intentions are clear — every male in Nabal’s house will be killed (1 Samuel 25:22). As with Tirian, here we have the impulsive passion of anger, a rage that is about to lead to great bloodshed and bloodguilt. But unlike Tirian, it’s about to be checked.

How to Appeal to Anger

The check comes in the form of Abigail, Nabal’s wise and discerning wife. Hearing of Nabal’s insult and the evil that is coming to their house, she immediately prepares a lavish gift of food and wine for David and his men. She brings the gifts and falls on her face before David and pleads for his favor.

She takes responsibility. She testifies to her husband’s folly. She gives David the gifts. But most importantly, she makes two fundamental appeals. First, she urges David to refrain from shedding innocent blood and working salvation with his own hand (1 Samuel 25:26). By doing so, he will avoid the grief and pangs of conscience that will come if he brings bloodguilt by his hand or seeks to save himself (1 Samuel 25:31). Second, she reminds David that the Lord will fight for him, that David’s life is “bound in the bundle of the living in the care of the Lord your God” (1 Samuel 25:29).

These appeals check the rashness of the king. They arrest his rage and wrath and vengeance. They enable him to tame the passion of his impulsive anger. David blesses Abigail for her discretion and courage, because she has “kept me this day from bloodguilt and from working salvation with my own hand” (1 Samuel 25:34). And he blesses the Lord who sent her to him and restrained David’s hand from doing great evil by harming Abigail and her husband’s household.

And sure enough, the Lord vindicates David. Ten days later, the Lord strikes Nabal and he dies, avenging the insult against his anointed (1 Samuel 25:39). Not only does David spare himself from working evil, he gains the hand of a wise and discerning wife.

Weapons Against Our Anger

So how might we apply wisdom like Abigail’s in checking our anger today? As we feel the temperature of our souls rising, we stop and remind ourselves — and one another — first, that ungodly anger will only add iniquity to our injury, and second, that the Lord himself has said, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay” (Romans 12:19).

These two stories — one fictional and one biblical — issue the same warning: Beware the passions of your flesh. They often wage war against your soul (1 Peter 2:11). In your anger, do not sin (Ephesians 4:26). Remember that the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God (James 1:20). Instead, entrust yourself to God (1 Peter 4:19). Look to him to fight your battles and to vindicate.

This doesn’t make us passive; the Lord also fought for and with David when he took up his sling against Goliath. That salvation, like the one with Nabal, was wrought by God’s hand, not David’s. But when we act in faith, we do so intentionally and thoughtfully, not reactively or rashly. We trust that our lives are bound in the bundle of the living in the care of our Lord, that we always live between the paws of the true Aslan.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/14815570/christianity-is-a-life-to-be-lived

Right now, the example of a small band of twentysomething Christian women is helping me resist the many temptations I feel toward cynicism. Let me explain why.

I have been disheartened by the amount of politically/ideologically/culturally driven acrimony, leadership failures, church divisions, ethnic tensions, and relational breakdowns among American evangelicals over the past few years. I wish I could say it’s all exaggerated by media algorithms and irresponsible Christian clickbaiting. But I’ve seen too much up close.

I see evidence of Christian disunity almost everywhere I turn. The three beloved churches where I’ve spent most of my life have in the past few years all experienced significant to devastating internal conflict. Christians who are remarkably aligned theologically, and who have worshiped together for years, no longer bear with each other. Relationships that took years to bond are torn. And the resulting wounds leave a scar tissue of distrust that doesn’t seem to relationally adhere as it did before.

What is going on? A lot. Complex historical, social, cultural, political, leadership, and spiritual-warfare issues factor into this epidemic of Christian disunity. We can’t ignore them. They’re real and seriously affect real people.

But we must be careful. In our analysis and discussions and debates of the problem, we can, ironically, miss or evade the fundamental issue. For when it comes to cultivating priceless Christian harmony, or wreaking destructive Christian dissonance, the greatest causal factor, the one the New Testament far and away addresses more than any other, is love.

Jesus’s Radically Simple Solution

Try not to roll your eyes. I know when there’s a strenuous debate among Christians over something complex, there’s always a guy in the room that says something like, “We just need to love each other!” And it’s usually not very helpful.

“New Testament love is not simplistic, as in reductionistic; it’s simple, as in fundamental.”

This kind of statement comes across as naive, simplistic idealism, because we don’t just need to love each other. We need to fundamentally love each other. We need to know what loving each other means and looks like when we’re faced with a complex issue, when we view matters from different perspectives, when we have no simple solutions, and when the only way forward requires bearing with one another during the extended tension of disagreement.

And in this way, New Testament love is not simplistic, as in reductionistic; it’s simple, as in fundamental. There’s a big difference.

Neighbor as Self

The Beatles’ song-slogan “all you need is love” is naive, simplistic idealism. It sounds right because we all intuitively know love is the supreme virtue. But the statement is conceptually hollow and incoherent. It doesn’t tell anyone what love means, what it looks like when practiced, or what it costs. Consequently, this sentence hasn’t transformed anything, much less conflicts over complex issues.

Contrast that with Jesus’s great command to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). Do you see the difference? Jesus’s command is fundamentally simple, but not at all simplistic. It’s simple in that everyone immediately grasps the fundamental principle: love ought to be our most core value, shaping all our motives in relation to others. It’s not simplistic, because it is a one-sentence summary of an all-encompassing orientation to all our relationships, and its applications are endless.

“Love your neighbor as yourself” is functionally powerful because, in any specific situation, it helps us gain at least some clarity on what love ought to look like, as well as what it will cost. It doesn’t remove complexities from relationships, situations, and issues, but if earnestly pursued, it is effective at dousing the flame of sin that turns our conflicts into wildfires — fires surrounding us in American evangelicalism.

The power of Jesus’s love command (and the many examples and expositions of it in the New Testament) has been lived out by countless saints over the past two thousand years and has transformed the world in countless ways. Which brings me to that small band of twentysomething women I mentioned at the beginning. For me, they are a picture of Jesus’s love command in action.

Taking Love to the Streets

I know most of these young ladies. Through a wonderful story of God’s providential work in their lives, they developed a deep concern over the plight of the thousands of street children in a major city of a Latin American country.

A few years ago, having gained a modicum of experience and raised enough financial support to live simply, they moved to this city and just began walking the streets and ministering to the kids and young adults they came across. These are children who, due to abuse, abandonment, excessive poverty, addiction, or the death of their parents, are forced to fend for themselves.

They sleep in culverts, under bridges, and in doorways, and they do whatever they must to find food. The streets are brutal, ruthless places for vulnerable children. Terrible things happen to many of them. Tender hearts harden and become distrustful. Danger and desperation exacerbate depravity.

But these women just began loving these kids — each one as a precious soul. They sought to love them as they loved themselves (imperfectly, they’d want me to emphasize). And they’re down there loving them right now.

They feed them, clothe them, take them to doctors when they’re sick or injured, and help many of them dealing with chemical addiction get into (or return to) treatment centers. They walk with young pregnant girls through the frightening journey of childbirth and beyond. They play Uno with kids in the parks and celebrate their birthdays with cakes and parties — something many of these kids have never experienced before. And as the Lord gives them opportunity, they share Jesus with them, pray with them, study the Bible with them, and connect them with good churches. As a result, an increasing number are coming to faith in Christ and getting baptized.

‘Because They Love Us’

Having won the trust of these hardened street kids through loving them with the tenacious, steadfast, faithful, self-sacrificial love of Jesus, now hundreds of hardened street kids have grown tender, loving these women back and genuinely caring for them in various ways. And of course, word on the street spreads fast, so more and more kids are seeking these women out and the modest ministry center the Lord has provided them.

Government officials are also now seeking them out to discover what they’re doing that’s so effective. These officials are also asking the street kids why they go to these women first when the government centers have more resources and programs. The kids’ answer: “Because they love us.”

Let that sink in. These women aren’t recognized experts, and they don’t have long experience, abundant resources, or PhD-designed programs. Neither do they have formal theological training. And yet they are proving remarkably effective at reaching these kids and helping them transition toward a more hopeful, productive future. From a kingdom standpoint, they are bearing more fruit in transformed lives and making more disciples than just about anyone else I know — even among a very neglected and historically difficult-to-reach group. Why? Ask the kids. They know why: “Because they love us” — each one as a precious soul.

Living Sacrifices of Love

So, what do these women have to do with the epidemic of Christian disunity in America? Answer: they are examples of taking Christian love seriously. But isn’t it apples and oranges to compare them to us? Contextually, yes, but not fundamentally.

My report of these women’s story, due to brevity, sounds more ideal than it really is. It’s hard. At times heartbreakingly hard — literal blood-sweat-and-tears hard. And it’s messy. Kids turn away. Kids disappear. Kids relapse into addiction. Kids are raped. Kids are killed. And the women make mistakes. They are misunderstood, sometimes maligned, and sometimes in bodily danger. They regularly feel inadequate, lonely, confused, grieved, bewildered, homesick, and like failures. They wonder if they’re doing it wrong. And they’re all too aware of their own sin.

“Living out Jesus’s love command seriously and intentionally will be hard, and the cost in numerous ways will be high.”

No matter the context, living out Jesus’s love command seriously and intentionally will be hard, and the cost in numerous ways will be high. We will feel the same ways in our context as these women do in theirs. That’s part of what it means to be a “living sacrifice” (Romans 12:1).

But this kind of love is transformational in ways that nothing else is. In our divisive and conflicted times, we urgently need to examine whether we’re seriously seeking to obey Jesus’s love command in our complex context. Our rancor, bitterness, division, and relational breakdown does not look like Romans 12–15, 1 Corinthians 13, Ephesians 4, or 1 John 3. We also should examine whether we’re paying any meaningful attention to our contextual equivalent of our wounded neighbor in the street.

As He Has Loved Us

The stakes are high. A deficit of love creates relational wreckage and distorts people’s perception of Jesus. For he said, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). And he raised the “love your neighbor” bar even higher than we would have thought when he said, “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12).

Sometimes, when the muck is flying and the disunifying din is blaring, it helps to focus on saints who are simply (not simplistically) loving like Jesus in their difficult contexts. They can help us gain perspective on ours and remind us what, fundamentally, is most important. And they can be a blessed antidote to cynicism. That’s what these remarkable young women are for me right now.

And as I see them trying to love their broken neighbors as themselves, I hear Jesus say, “You go, and do likewise” (Luke 10:37).

On January 31, 1892, Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834–1892) died in Menton, France, with his wife, Susie, at his bedside. His death was the deepest valley of Susie’s many years of suffering. While Charles’s body was transported back to London for a week of memorial services, Susie retreated to the estate of Thomas Hanbury, just across the Italian border and only a few miles from Menton, her grief and her physical affliction barring her from returning home immediately. There, as the blue waters of the Mediterranean kissed the Italian shoreline, Susie contemplated her future without Charles:

When the storms come, and our trees of delight are bare and leafless, when He strips us of the comforts to which His love has accustomed us — or more painful still, — when He leaves us alone in the world, to mourn the absence of the chief desire of our heart; — to sing to Him then, to bless and praise and laud His dear name then, this is the work of His free grace only. (The Sword and the Trowel, December 1903, 606)

For decades, Susie had borne the anxiety of Charles’s trials as well as the weight of her own poor health. Though youthful curls still donned her face, wrinkles betrayed the challenges of her life. Staring at the sea from the portico of the majestic Hanbury mansion a thousand miles from home, Susie determined to continue Charles’s gospel-centered ministry.

But how?

Hardworking Widow

Susie reflected back to 1875. The first volume of Charles’s book Lectures to My Students was about to be published, and Susie expressed a great desire for every pastor in England to receive a copy. Far from dismissing her idea, Charles encouraged her to act on her godly desire. And so began “Mrs. Spurgeon’s Book Fund.”

Now, seventeen years later, overlooking the Italian coast, Susie decided that the Book Fund would remain her first priority of ministry. This was no small commitment, for she would oversee every aspect of the Fund, and by the time she died in 1903, Susie had given over 200,000 books to 25,000 pastors — gifts that encouraged them, strengthened their churches, and promoted the gospel across the land.

While being the largest of Susie’s ministry endeavors, the Book Fund was only one among many ministries for the widow. In the mid-1890s, she helped plant Beulah Baptist Church at Bexhill-on-Sea. She also authored several books herself and even served as coeditor and major contributor to the four-volume C.H. Spurgeon’s Autobiography. All of this work grew from Susie’s commitment to labor for the glory of God, the good of many, and the promotion of her husband’s legacy. During their engagement, she had vowed never to hinder the preacher in his ministry, and though she was now aging, afflicted, and alone, she wouldn’t abandon the task.

Susie Meets Charles

Susannah (Susie) Thompson was born January 15, 1832, in London, the only daughter of Robert and Susannah Thompson. A London girl with big city ways, she made several trips to Paris during her youth in order to learn French. Her family attended New Park Street Chapel, where James Smith pastored (1842–1850), his evangelistic ministry provoking a desire in Susie for salvation and baptism. The desire was realized in 1852, when the 20-year-old Susie was converted. Due in part to her personality and in part to various cultural factors, however, she concealed her faith for a time.

In April of 1854, after the youthful Charles had arrived to serve as pastor of New Park Street Chapel, he learned of Susie’s spiritual struggles and gifted her his favorite book, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, in order to assist her spiritual growth. This outreach by Charles pried open Susie’s shy heart. Charles counseled her to engage her faith in diligent Christian service, and his message stuck. At the same time, love blossomed between the two, and they were engaged in August of 1854. Susie was baptized by Charles in early 1855, and they were married on January 8, 1856. Twin sons followed, but shortly after their birth, the first major trial of the young couple’s marriage confronted them.

The Spurgeons’ Suffering

Charles and Susie honeymooned in Paris and enjoyed a full cultural experience, from art galleries to cathedrals. Susie spoke French fluently, but Charles not at all. He delighted in his new bride serving as his interpreter. After returning to London, they moved into their first residence together, a place that Susie called “Love Land” (Autobiography, 2:180). Her description of their first home is apt, for Charles and Susie enjoyed a delightful marriage of 36 years: affectionate and happily romantic. But woven into the fabric of their marriage were also seasons of dark suffering, separation, and sadness.

Music Hall Disaster

Charles was extremely busy the first year of their marriage: caring for a growing congregation, leading auxiliary ministries connected to the church, answering mounds of correspondence, and preaching across the British Isles, along with editing and writing. The Surrey Gardens Music Hall disaster on October 19, 1856, illustrates both the heights of Charles’s fame and the depths of his sorrows. Charles was but 22 years old when upwards of ten thousand people crowded the hall to hear him preach, with thousands more gathered outside. Early in the service, a contingency of mischief-makers yelled “Fire!” though there was no fire. Panic ensued, and in the rush to exit the building, seven people were trampled to death, and thirty more were badly injured. Spurgeon was inconsolable, and the future of his ministry seemed in doubt.

When Susie received the news at home, she hit her knees in prayer for the many sufferers and for her despondent husband. Though Spurgeon resumed his ministry a couple of weeks later, he was permanently scarred emotionally. Susie was an anchor in this storm as they looked to Christ together.

Physical Afflictions

Charles’s physical nemesis was gout. Later, kidney disease was added, and both were coupled with seasons of depression aggravated by memories of the disaster at the Music Hall.

For Susie’s part, in mid-1868 her church attendance began to wane, and from then until 1892, she rarely attended worship services due to physical ailments. In early 1869, she was operated on by the acclaimed gynecologist James Simpson, and though she was helped somewhat by the surgery, she nevertheless continued to suffer for the rest of her days.

Theological Controversies

Several controversies erupted throughout Charles’s ministry, but the one that most troubled him was known as the Down-Grade Controversy of 1887. At the heart of this controversy was what Charles saw as the undermining of fundamental biblical doctrines by some men in the Baptist Union. The disagreement led Charles to resign from the Union. Though not engaged directly in the controversy, Susie contended for the truth by increasing her Book Fund efforts, encouraging pastors to read doctrinally sound books. In her own way, she pushed back against the tide of theological liberalism alongside her husband. Susie believed that this controversy, with its corresponding loss of friendships, tragically accelerated Spurgeon’s death.

Humble, Steadfast Faith

Charles’s death in 1892 grieved but did not paralyze Susie. Throughout her life, Susie was motivated by Charles’s early words to her when she was facing doubts. “Active service brings with it warmth, and this tends to remove doubting, for our works thus become evidence of our calling and election” (Letters of Charles Haddon Spurgeon, 54). Charles’s words motivated Susie then and for all of her days. Yet it wasn’t only personal resolve that kept her going.

Proclaiming the true power behind her labor, Susie writes, “I look unto the Lord with humble, steadfast gaze, and receive courage and strength to press onward and upward in the path he has marked out for me!” (Free Grace and Dying Love, 101–2). This statement didn’t come cheaply, either, as if it were merely the product of an emotional moment. For Susie, Bible reading year after year and cover to cover, along with prayer and regular reading of the best soul-nourishing devotional writings of the day, cultivated a deep and abiding Christ-centeredness.

Susie’s story contains bountiful evidence of her faith in Christ and sacrificial service for his kingdom. Her son Charles wrote of her “labor for the Lord” even when “the mind was weary, and the body exceedingly weak” (The Sword and the Trowel, December 1903, 607). At her death, Susie’s other son, Thomas, wrote of how his mother’s life might speak to future generations:

Methinks she would press upon us, even more earnestly and sweetly than before, the preciousness of the Word, and our duty to hide it in our hearts. She would bid us prize and plead the promises. She would charge us to cling to the Cross and to cleave to that which is good. She would implore the unsaved at once to trust the finished work of Jesus. (The Sword and the Trowel, December 1903, 608)

Susie’s great-great-granddaughter, Susie Spurgeon Cochrane, writes, “When there were good times, she gave Him the praise, and when there were trials, she fell on her knees before Him, Again and again she went to the Fountain of Living Water and drank deeply from it. Then, and only then, was she able to do all that she did in her life” (Susie: The Life and Legacy of Susannah Spurgeon, 256).

The Bitter Is Sweet

Susie was the wife of the world’s most famous pastor, an author of books, a lover of the poor, a church-plant helper, and a devoted mother and grandmother. Though pressed in the vice of affliction and grief, Susie was determined to live with Christ as her life and the joy of others as her mission (Philippians 1:21–26).

On the tomb where Susie is buried beside Charles are inscribed the words of a hymn — words descriptive of her devotion to Jesus and hope for the future.

Since all that I meet shall work for my good,The bitter is sweet, the medicine is food.Though painful at present, wilt cease before long,And then, O! how pleasant, the conqueror’s song.

Audio Transcript

God is our refuge and our fortress. And in that great refuge psalm of Psalm 91, we are given this glorious promise: “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty” (Psalm 91:1). Such a high promise prompted APJ listener Anna to write in. Anna lives in Atlanta. “Pastor John, hello, and thank you for your faithful labors,” she writes. “My question comes from Psalm 91:1. What does it mean to ‘dwell in the shelter of the Most High’ and to ‘abide in the shadow of the Almighty?’ Is there a New Testament equivalent to this for believers in Christ? And is the practice of daily Scripture reading part of it?” Pastor John, what would you say to Anna?

Yes, there is a New Testament equivalent, and yes, Scripture reading is certainly part of the way you keep dwelling in the shelter of the Most High. But to get at the actual meaning, let’s quote the psalm, Psalm 91, and then look at an event from the life of a martyred missionary, Jim Elliot, whose biography is titled, by his wife, Shadow of the Almighty.

Safe in His Shelter

The phrase comes from Psalm 91, which begins like this:

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High     will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,     my God, in whom I trust.”

And then it continues in verse 7 with these amazing words:

A thousand [arrows] may fall at your side,     ten thousand at your right hand,     but it will not come near you.You will only look with your eyes     and see the recompense of the wicked.Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place . . .

So, it sounds like to dwell in the shadow of the Almighty and in the shelter of the Most High means that if someone throws a spear at you, it will not hit you.

For the Sake of Gain

So was Elizabeth Elliot naive, unbiblical, when she titled her husband’s biography Shadow of the Almighty, even though he and four others were speared to death by the Huaorani Indians on January 8, 1956, in Ecuador, while they were trying to evangelize them? She’s been asked that question. She’s with the Lord now, but she was asked that question, and I personally spoke to her many times. Most people considered her confidence in God’s sovereignty to be a little bit misplaced. Here was her answer at the end of the book. You can read it on the last pages of that biography:

The world did not recognize the truth of the second clause in Jim Elliot’s credo: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

“They trusted implicitly in the blood of the Lamb, that it had absolutely secured their future happiness forever.”

Now, what did he mean by that? What did she mean when she quoted it? Well, they both meant this: if God sees fit to let the arrow that flies by day or the spear of a Huaorani Indian to kill one of God’s children, God has done it for the sake of gain. Jim Elliot said “to gain what he cannot lose.” God has done it for gain, not loss. And I think she’s right. I think he was right. That’s a right interpretation of Psalm 91.

Here’s why I think that: Satan tried to use Psalm 91 in Matthew 4:6 to tempt Jesus to jump off the temple, because Psalm 91 promises that the angels are going to catch you. But Jesus won’t use Psalm 91 that way. Neither did Stephen when he was stoned to death. Neither did James when he was beheaded. Neither did Paul when he was beaten repeatedly with rods. Neither did Jesus as he bent down over the cross. None of them understood Psalm 91 to mean that God’s children will never suffer at the hands of their enemies.

Everything You Need

So what does it mean? I mean, Satan was trying to get them to think it meant that. What does it mean to abide in the shadow of the Almighty if you can be killed in the shadow of the Almighty? Well, let’s go to the New Testament counterpart of this text. So Anna asks, “Is there a New Testament counterpart?” There are several. For example,

Jude 21 says, “Keep yourselves in the love of God.” I think that is virtually the same as “Keep yourselves in the shadow of the Almighty.”
Or Jesus says in John 15:9, “Abide in my love,” which I think is the same as “Abide in the shelter of the Most High.”

In other words, dwelling in the shadow of the Almighty and abiding in the shelter of the Most High means trusting implicitly in the love of God, the power of God, to give you everything you need to do his will and glorify his name, whether you live or die. Or to say it another way: dwelling in the shadow of the Most High and keeping yourself in the love of God means trusting the love of God and the wisdom of God and the power of God to protect you from everything that could destroy you utterly.

Never Defeated

Now, why do I say that? One of the clearest reasons for saying that is found in Romans 8:32–39, maybe the greatest paragraph in the Bible. Paul argues that God’s love for his elect, his adopted children, proven in the death of his Son Jesus, means that he will, with absolute certainty, “graciously give us all things.”

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:32)

“If we are in the shadow of the Almighty, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ.”

Answer: he will. But what does that mean — all things? And he goes on to explain, and he even uses the Psalms to explain it. He argues that if we are in the love of Christ, in the shadow of the Almighty, nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. Then he throws out a few possibilities of what might separate us, and it shows he’s really quite aware of Psalm 91. He says, “Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?” (Romans 8:35) — or he might have added, “or a Huaorani Indian spear?”

And then he quotes Psalm 44:22: “As it is written, ‘For your sake [not sin’s sake; your sake] we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered’” (Romans 8:36). So even the Psalms knew God’s people die while doing good. Then he shouts the answer: “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37).

So Paul is saying Christians can keep themselves in the love of God and in the shadow of the Almighty and still be slaughtered like sheep, and yet be more than conquerors. So if the arrow that flies by day goes straight into your chest, and you drop dead in the cause of Christ, it does not defeat you. You are more than a conqueror.

Step into Everlasting Presence

How are you more than a conqueror? Because the very arrow that seemed to get the victory becomes your servant and accomplishes God’s sovereign purpose in the world. And God’s saving purpose for your life is everlasting presence. Here’s how the book of Revelation says it: “And they conquered [Satan] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death” (Revelation 12:11).

So they die in persecution, but they conquer Satan. How? This is the answer to Anna’s question. How do you dwell in the shelter of the Most High? They trusted implicitly in the blood of the Lamb, that it had absolutely secured for them their future happiness forever. And they opened their mouth and gave testimony. And the fear of death did not stop them. And in that moment, they were safe in the shadow of the Almighty, and they conquered the devil and they entered paradise. I think that’s the kind of triumphant safety that God is calling us to in Psalm 91.

http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/14811424/unity-in-truth-by-love-overview

A man sat along the road where one path broke into ten. A deep fog rested upon the land so no traveler could perceive each path’s end.

The man’s King, before going off to his kingdom, told the man the end of each. One path led to a den of lions. One to a cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom. One through a forest with bloodthirsty beasts. Another to a swamp with inescapable quicksand. Still another to a tribe of cannibals. And the unsavory reports continued in this fashion. Only one led to the King’s kingdom. His charge was simple: warn others away from destruction and toward the path of life.

A young man first crossed his path. “My friend, I have good news for you,” he said to the traveler. “The King of this world sent me to help you along. This path here, of the ten before you, alone is safe. And not only safe, but it leads directly to the King and his kingdom — a kingdom where you will be received, robed, and reconciled by his incredible mercy. The other paths — as the King has most solemnly recorded in his book — lead to certain ruin.”

To his amazement, the passerby completely ignored his pleadings. A woman upon his arm held his ear, bidding him to follow another of the ten paths. “Sir! Come back! That way is the path of death! Come back!” he cried until the man faded from sight. The servant sat down in silence for hours. What should I have done differently?

The second traveler, this time a young woman, paused momentarily to hear what he had to say. She considered the prescribed way, saw it was both narrow and hard, and without much more thought chose against it, telling him not to worry; she would be fine.

The sight of the next travelers forced the horror of that woman’s end from his mind. A husband and wife approached (hardly speaking or looking at one another). This couple, as self-confident as they were unhappy, met his royal invitations with a sharp rebuke.

“‘But what will they think of me?’ has lodged the name of Christ in many throats.”

“Barbarously arrogant!” the woman scolded.

“Hypocritical and judgmental,” the husband added.

“Love,” the woman said without stopping, “lets others travel their own path for themselves by themselves, and does not force one’s own way upon anyone.”

He tried to tell the back of their heads that it was not his way but the King’s, yet they paid no mind. Hand in hand, they walked toward the cliff, mocking such a fool upon the road.

Days went by after this fashion. Each encounter weakened his pleadings. The mission that he began with a royal sense of privilege soon waned into callousness, confusion, and apathy. Family, friends, colleagues, and strangers now pass by, all stepping upon their chosen path. He gives but a feeble smile at the unsuspecting people who embark upon their preferred way to perdition.

Weary in Speaking Good

I have felt like this servant of the King.

I have often asked with Isaiah, “Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?” (Isaiah 53:1) The temptation to compromise finds me in my defeat, whispering, “Is it really worth it?” or, “Did God really say that the gospel is the power of God for salvation?”

Add to this whisper the fleshly impulse to avoid conversations that can easily lead to awkwardness or rejection. Some of us, myself included, heed the voice telling us that “going there” is neither polite nor promising, rather than the voice telling us to share the only name given under heaven by which they must be saved (Acts 4:12). But what will they think of me? has lodged the name of Christ in many throats.

Now add to these challenges the sweet words in our day about “tolerance” — words that regularly convince Christians to consent to compromise while person after person passes by on the road to ruin. While Jesus didn’t blush to tell people that he alone was the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6), we often fail to pass along the life-saving message we have been given.

Word to Passersby

If you are considering which path to take and desire the King’s perspective, here you have it: Jesus alone is the way, the truth, the life; he alone is the mediator between God and man (1 Timothy 2:5); he alone brings reconciliation to sinners (Colossians 1:20); he alone reveals God perfectly (Hebrews 1:3); he alone is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25); there is salvation in no one else (Acts 4:12). Two types of paths exist: the way of Christ, and the ways of condemnation (Matthew 7:13). Every path not leading to repentance and faith in Jesus for the forgiveness of sins is a path leading to never-ending death.

God sent his Son into the world of condemned criminals in order to save it and give eternal life to all who believe (John 3:16–18). Jesus is the one name offered to you for your salvation. He is the only one who can take away your sins. Your good works will not spare you; your good character will not shelter you; your good intentions will not clothe your nakedness. The angel of death walks outside; only the door with Christ’s blood painted on the frame can shelter you.

“Two types of paths exist: the way of Christ, and the way of condemnation.”

Consider your path before it is too late. Not choosing a path is a path. Believing that no true paths exist is itself a path. Secularism, materialism, and false religions have paths. Contrast these with the only one that can lead to life, that of Jesus Christ and his gospel.

Politically correct? No. Tolerant? No. Exclusive? Assuredly. Loving? Absolutely. “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Will you be a part of the us?

Plea to Christians

If, on the other hand, you are one of the many men or women at the crossroads, charged by the King to warn and to guide, do not give in or give up; the world needs your voice. Do not bow to the hollow statue that the world has erected and named “Love.” Compromise is love only with respect to self and sin, tolerant only toward the masses going to hell, and accepting only of a cowardice that makes us complicit in condemning those we claim to love.

If we believe our King, we cannot sit silently. If we care for souls, we cannot grow mute. If we love our God’s glory, we must speak. We cannot watch family, friends, and even enemies pass by with indifference.

In Due Season

Eventually, this servant of the King, through considering his own relationship with the King and meditating on the words of his book, revived his trust in the King’s message.

An old man made his way slowly toward him.

“Sir, I have wonderful news for you — and I hope, I pray you receive it. My King has sent me with an urgent message that you, even in your old age, can find eternal life. This path, sir, though hard and with a narrow gate, is the singular path to life. Every other has something worse than death inscribed upon it. Even now, my King awaits, ready to receive you.”

“Why should such a King offer me such a welcome?”

“Because, in his great love, he has made a way — through highest payment to himself — to receive all who come to him in faith. . . . Yes, even you. . . . Yes, that is his promise. . . . Yes, this path.”

Do not give in. Do not give up. Keep praying for your child; keep speaking the truth in love to that neighbor; keep pointing to Jesus Christ. Do not grow weary of speaking good, for in due season you will reap, if you do not give up (Galatians 6:9).

When I married, I had wanted to be married for a long time. For sure, I didn’t have to wait as long as many have (and are), but I waited far longer than I expected anyway — long enough to hurt.

That waiting, however, meant that when my wedding day did finally come, it rose all the brighter, stronger, and more vibrant than it would have otherwise, like a sunrise so beautiful it unsettles you. Even if I never saw another picture of that day, I would remember minute details — the squirmy 10-year-old on the aisle, the Scripture reader coming up a song too early, the longer-than-expected wait standing at the altar, her smile when she finally appeared. Even if, without warning, rain had drowned out the sun, soaked everyone in sight, and ruined all our decorations, it would have served only to make our happiness more memorable.

There’s no day quite like a wedding day, and there are few pleasures like those first hours of marriage — the first blissful, awkward steps of a lifelong dance together.

How tragic would it be, though, if our joy in marriage were limited to our memories of that one day? What if my wife and I spent all our years together looking at wedding pictures and retelling the stories of those first hours? What if we never walked beyond the beauties of the altar into the wild and thrilling gardens of actual married life? What if, after all our years waiting for marriage, we settled for a wedding?

As absurd as it may seem, I wonder how many of us have that kind of relationship with the cross.

Beyond the Altar

Some, it seems, love Jesus for forgiving their sins, for canceling their debt, for providing a perfect righteousness in their place — and then spend the rest of their lives rehearsing our justification, as if that were all that the cross could afford. Make no mistake, the cross is our altar — that central, crucial, and glorious event, that deathblow to Satan and all his armies, that blazing climax of history — but it is the altar, not the marriage.

“Without justification, we have no hope, no life, no future, but justification alone is not our life; it is our entry into life.”

Without justification, we have no hope, no life, no future, but justification alone is not our life; it is our entry into life, our gateway into so many more glories, our path into ever-widening fields of grace. And this side of heaven, some of the greatest treasures in those fields are the changes God works in us to make us more like him — the deep, startling, often slow process we call sanctification. “[Christ] himself bore our sins in his body on the tree,” 1 Peter 2:24 says, “that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.” Do you relish the opportunity, in Christ, to live to righteousness — to be increasingly holy?

This holiness is not only possible and necessary — no one goes to heaven without it (Hebrews 12:14) — but this holiness also holds the highest and most durable pleasure. As J.C. Ryle writes, “Let us feel convinced, whatever others may say, that holiness is happiness. . . . As a general rule, in the long run of life, it will be found true that ‘sanctified’ people are the happiest people on earth. They have solid comforts which the world can neither give nor take away” (Holiness, 40).

High Cost of Access

Justification — the act by which God declares guilty sinners righteous — is an unfathomably precious and glorious reality.

“Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1). The life and death of Christ made an impossibility a reality — those, like me, who should have drowned in divine wrath were instead baptized into oceans of mercy. Those, like me, who deserved every ounce of divine justice have been showered instead with unrelenting peace.

“Through him,” Paul goes on to say, “we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). Access. Many of us live in a world so inundated with access — access to information, access to resources, access to one another — we may have lost the gravity and wonder of a privilege like our access to God.

Despite how small and insignificant we are, and how often we have sinned against him, and how prone we are to take him for granted, God did not make war against us, but received the war to give us peace. He did not cast us into the lake of fire, but sent his Son into the flames so that he might welcome us into his family.

Tents Pitched at Calvary

The grandeur of the glory of this peace, this access, this justification cannot be overstated — unless we make it the only glory of the gospel, unless we never leave the altar. John Piper writes,

Jesus did not die so that we would pitch our tents on Calvary. He died to fill the world — this one and the new one — with his reflected holiness. . . . He died so that we would not be incinerated by the glory of God, but rather spend eternity reflecting it with joy. . . . The glory of justification serves the unending glories of sanctification. (“Justification Is the Gate, Not the Garden”)

Among the gospel glories we might begin to overlook, sanctification might be the most overlooked. Those who champion justification by grace alone, through faith alone — not by works — can understandably become skittish about any talk of works.

The apostle Paul, however, that greatest of all champions of justification, did not shy away from celebrating and pressing for real sanctification. The bright stars of justification and peace and access were not the only stars in his sky. He loved justification — the wedding, the altar, the declaration — but he also wanted to see and experience more of Christ. As he holds up the cross, he draws us, again and again, into the marriage.

Not Only That

“Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God. . . . Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character” (Romans 5:1–4). Not only that — that is the burden of this article. In the gospel, God gives not only forgiveness, but new character. Not only justification, but sanctification. Not only pardon, but transformation. Not only the altar, but the marriage. Don’t limit your joy in Jesus to the relieving of your guilt and shame.

We see these stars of justification and sanctification align again in Titus 3. “God saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy . . . so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:5–7). No work we had done won God’s attention or intervention. He saved us through faith alone, by grace alone, according to his great mercy alone. In the very next verse, Paul writes, “I want you to insist on these things” — the justification of sinners by faith, not by works — “so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works” (Titus 3:8). We were justified by faith alone, not by works, in order that we might devote ourselves to good works.

“Jesus died to redeem and to purify, to justify and to sanctify.”

Or, as he wrote just sentences earlier, “[Jesus Christ] gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works” (Titus 2:14). He died to redeem and to purify, to justify and to sanctify. To celebrate justification, and not sanctification, is to celebrate half a gospel, half a cross, half a grace, and half a Christ. As much as any voice in history, Paul fought to preach and preserve justification by faith alone, but justification was not the destination. It was driving him somewhere. Paul was not content to rejoice only in the canceling of his sins, but longed to experience greater freedom from the power of his sins.

In fact, he prized his blood-bought, Spirit-empowered, grace-filled holiness so much that he could rejoice even in suffering. “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character.” He could rejoice in imprisonments, rejoice in beatings, rejoice in robberies, rejoice in hunger and need, rejoice even in betrayal, because he saw how adversity conformed him to Christ. He knew that when suffering is met with faith, the fire produces and refines a wealth of godliness.

Marriage Beautifies the Wedding

Not only, however, does justification lead us into the glories of sanctification; the glorious experience of sanctification also leads us further into the glories of justification. Notice how this sequence in Romans 5 ends: “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Romans 5:3–4). Hope — in other words, a deeper and stronger assurance that we belong to Jesus and will spend eternity with him.

Christlikeness is a prize to be pursued and treasured, in part, because it strengthens our confidence in our justification. Every inch of progress in godliness is another testimony that God is real and that he really lives in you. Holiness not only flows from hope, but actually produces greater hope. Just as a good marriage, year by year, makes the wedding day more beautiful and meaningful.

So don’t forget the wedding, but don’t miss the marriage. Praise Christ every day for the fathomless gifts of forgiveness, of peace, of access — of full acceptance with a holy God because of Christ — but also plead to experience everything else he is and bought for you.

Audio Transcript

Today, God has blessed us with countless numbers of faithful men who lead churches well. And we praise God for each man who closely guards his life and doctrine for the sake of his own soul and for the sake of the souls entrusted to him (1 Timothy 4:16). Such faithful men will go unnoticed by the world, and maybe even under-thanked for their work by the people they serve. But we thank God for you men. Many of you listen to this podcast.

At the same time, one of the most painful topics we see pop up in the inbox regularly is the fallout over the sins of unfaithful pastors. Pastors can fail their people by not watching their lives and doctrine. These situations are tragic and very painful and often devastating. The heartbreaking stories we hear bear this out. No church is immune. Compromise happens in huge suburban megachurches and in very small rural country churches. And it was a problem among the priests of the Old Testament, calling for the stern warnings we read in the Prophets. In fact, God reserves some of the harshest language in the Bible for priests who morally fail, as we will see today in Malachi 2:1–9. This text remains relevant for pastors today, as Pastor John explained in 1987, in a sermon from about 34 years ago. Here’s Pastor John.

We noticed in Malachi 2:7 that that wasn’t the only task of the priest (namely, to sacrifice): “The lips of a priest should guard knowledge, and people should seek instruction from his mouth, for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts.”

In other words, priests were teachers and not just sacrificers, and that’s why the text is relevant today: this text addresses ministers of the word, and it shows that they can fail miserably and grievously and that they can succeed gloriously. That’s what the text is about, and that’s why it’s so relevant, because it’s all around us today: ministerial failure and success.

Greater Strictness

I ended with an overview last time and began what I want to begin with this morning — namely, a list of these failures — and then we’ll turn to the success of the ministry.

Let me give you that overview again: Verses 2, 8, and 9 give us five failures in the priestly ministry, five pastoral failures. Verses 5, 6, and 7 describe the success of the ministry of the word, what it’s supposed to look like. And the thing I didn’t mention last week was the threats made against the priests, the pastors, to sanction the commands in verses 5–7 and to redeem them and get them to clean up their act with regard to their failures. Those threats are found in verses 2, 3, and 9. And it may be well to begin right here. Let’s just start with the threats. And we start here because they’re given, mainly, not for themselves, but to awaken these failing priests, rescue them from destruction, and bring them to success.

Here’s the lesson I get from these threats before I look at them in detail: pastors, ministers of the word, will not be spared judgment in the last day. It’s occurred to me this week as I’ve pondered this that, when I stand before Christ at the last day, every one of these sermons will be thrown on the table before the judge, and Romans 2:21 will be read in the courtroom as I stand before Christ: “You then who taught others, do you not teach yourself?”

Think long and hard before you envy your pastors at the last day. James said, “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (James 3:1).

Four Priestly Threats

Now, let’s read these threats in verses 2–3, and then I’ll drop down to verse 9.

If you will not listen, if you will not take it to heart to give honor to my name, says the Lord of hosts, then I will send the curse upon you and I will curse your blessings. Indeed, I have already cursed them, because you do not lay it to heart. Behold, I will rebuke your offspring, and spread dung on your faces, the dung of your offerings, and you shall be taken away with it. . . . And so I make you despised and abased before all the people, inasmuch as you do not keep my ways but show partiality in your instruction.

Now, there are four threats in those three verses.

1. “I will curse them” (verse 2).

2. “I will curse your blessings” — that is, I think he means, “The words that you speak, which are intended to be the blessing of the people, I’m going to turn them into a plague upon the people” (verse 2).

3. “I’m going to rebuke your offspring” — or “your crops,” perhaps. The word seed could go either way there. In other words, “The curse is going to spread far beyond you, whether to your children or to your land.”

4. “I am going to smear the dung of these mangy, broken-legged, blind sheep in your face.” Or as verse 9 explains, “I’m going to make you despised and contemptible among people.”

“Nothing is more horrible to imagine than the beauty of holiness turning against you with omnipotent rage.”

Now, why is God so angry? You know he’s angry, don’t you? I mean, when you talk about smearing dung in somebody’s face, you’re not dealing dispassionately with some minor disobedience; you’re on the brink of rage. Nothing is more horrible to imagine than the beauty of holiness turning against you with omnipotent rage, which is what’s happening in these verses toward the pastors of Israel.

Five Priestly Failures

He is angry because of five failures. Let’s look at them.

1. The failure of listening to God, or failing to listen to God: “If you will not listen . . .” (verse 2). It’s a failure because you can’t herald what you can’t hear.

2. The failure to have a heart for the glory of God: “If you will not take it to heart to give honor to my name, says the Lord of hosts . . .” (verse 2). And that’s the root of the matter, brothers and sisters. We’re going to see more clearly than ever this morning as we move to the success that that’s the root of the matter. A pastor who has no heart for the glory of God is a failure, no matter how full his church is or wide his ministry.

3. They have turned aside from the ways of God and live out of sync with the teaching of God. Look at the first line of verse 8: “You have turned aside from the way.” And look again at verse 9: “I [will] make you despised and abased before all the people, inasmuch as you do not keep my ways.” So, the third failure is the failure of practicing what they preach. Their lives, they’re way over here. They’re not walking with God. They say one thing, and they’re doing another thing.

4. They have shown partiality in teaching. Verse 9: “You do not keep my ways but show partiality in your instruction.” Now, what does that mean? It means that they are doing the very same thing with the word of God that they did with the sacrifices of God. Do you remember what that was? They gave just those animals to God that would leave maximum money in their pockets — broken-legged sheep, blind sheep, mangy sheep. You can’t sell them, so give them to God and keep your pockets full.

“A pastor who has no heart for the glory of God is a failure, no matter how full his church is or wide his ministry.”

And that’s exactly what they’re doing with their teaching. They give precisely that teaching to their congregations that will keep their pockets full. They play to their audience. They tell Daddy Warbucks what he wants to hear. They say, “‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6:14; 8:11). They do what Micah 3:11 describes: “[Jerusalem’s] heads give judgment for a bribe; its priests teach for a price; its prophets practice divination for money.” When the glory of God no longer satisfies the heart of a preacher, he can do two things: leave the ministry or stay and preach for money. Would that they all left.

5. The failure of what results from all of this — in the middle of verse 8, you see it: “You have caused many to stumble.” Let me ask you this: Do you think the sins of pastors, Christian leaders, are more grievous than the sins of others? I do. But not because a sin in and of itself is of a different nature or quality; rather, because the sin of Christian leaders is compounded by the fact that the weight of public responsibility should all the more have hindered it, and he didn’t let it hinder it.

I don’t know if you’ve opened up yet this week’s Christianity Today. It’s in our library. I commend it to you. There are two or three articles on the sins of Christian leaders and whether they can be restored, and there is a short article by David Neff, the associate editor. And here’s what he says:

The leader who philanders has broken a trust placed in him by a wide community — trust in his vision, reliability, wisdom, and veracity. And the essence of leadership is that trust. So a leader who violates trust in a fundamental and public manner is ipso facto no longer a leader. (“Are All Sins Created Equal?”)

And I believe he’s right.

God Hates Ministerial Hypocrisy

Now, I want to turn so badly to the success of the pastoral ministry, but before we get there, I want to apply what I’ve said so far to those of you here today who have been victims of priestly failure. I have in mind people who have seen in ministers of the word enough hypocrisy and expediency and inconsistency and worldliness and partiality and greed and cowardice and pettiness and harshness and insensitivity, that you have stamped a big question mark over the whole Christian enterprise. You have built a wall, perhaps — in your soul, in your heart — that keeps out anything from the Christian world, because you just aren’t sure you want to have anything to do with that mess anymore.

Now, there is a word in this text to people like that here this morning, and I want to paraphrase it as best I can. Let me paraphrase what I think God is saying to that kind of person here this morning, to the victims of priestly failure. Here’s what he’s saying:

I hate ministerial hypocrisy ten thousand times more than you do, and I intend to spread dung on the faces of ministerial hypocrites — those who have forsaken my glory, departed from my ways, teach for hire, and cause people to stumble. “Vengeance is mine; I will repay” (Hebrews 10:30). Don’t carry it; it is mine, and I will repay with vengeance vastly worse than you can imagine in your little vindictive moments.”

What a tragedy it would be this morning if anyone turned away from the glory — the unimpeachable glory — of Jesus Christ, the King of kings, because of a hypocritical demeanor or a failure of one of his messengers, when God himself intends to spread dung on the face of that minister, because he loves you and hates it when his glory is profaned. Wouldn’t that be an ironic tragedy if you let that hypocrite drag you to hell with him? Don’t let that happen. Don’t let Satan use his lightning-cloaked ministers of the word to drag you to hell with them. That’s what he’s saying in this text to victims of priestly failure.

John Piper is founder and teacher of desiringGod.org and chancellor of Bethlehem College & Seminary. For 33 years, he served as pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church, Minneapolis, Minnesota. He is author of more than 50 books, including Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist and most recently Providence.