I love everything about Christ-centered weddings. I love the love songs, the festive decorations, the contagious smiles, the time-honored traditions. I love the theology that marriage pictures and the miracle God performs by joining a man and a woman together as one. And I hate divorce. I hate all the damage it leaves in its wake. I hate how sin attacks what God has blessed and all that Satan does to undermine these vows.

So, when my wife and I start premarital counseling with a couple, I tell them that we will seem like good cop and bad cop. My wife openly expresses her joy to the engaged couple, while I keep a poker face over the six meetings, deliberately poking holes to see if their relationship is sufficiently built on the solid foundation of Christ.

Too often, couples stumble into marriage blinded to the problems in front of them because they look at their relationship through the distortion of rose-colored glasses. Then, shortly after the honeymoon (if it takes that long), the glasses fall off, and the couple becomes overwhelmed by what feel like painful, “irreconcilable” issues. Equally sad and tragic are the marriages that make it through earlier years only to yield to feelings of loneliness, resentment, or indifference, and then the couple gives up on the marriage in their later years.

I don’t know where you are relationally, but I’m writing to encourage couples married or about to be: if you and your spouse love Christ, your marriage can survive and thrive. So, for the purpose of thriving in your covenant, I’ll share three common challenges that all marriages between sinners face, holding up Christ as the only reliable solution for each.

1. Remember who the real enemy is.

If your marriage often feels more like a battleground than a bed of roses, you’re not crazy. In the Christian movie War Room, an elderly wise patron, Ms. Clara, tells a young wife struggling in her marriage, “You’re fighting the wrong enemy.” Oh, if every Christian couple took full heed of this danger! Satan studied Adam, and developed a specific and tailored plan — and what did he do? He went after Adam’s bride. He deceived Eve in his successful attack on their union (Genesis 3:1–6; Revelation 12:9). The Bible warns us that his war plan against marriage has not changed.

Before the apostle Paul tells Christian husbands and wives what he expects of them in Ephesians 5, he writes three whole chapters to ground us in the abundant grace that is ours in Christ. That grace is the means by which couples can make our marriages reflect Christ and his love for the church (Ephesians 5:22–31). Without regularly walking in the gospel of Ephesians 1–3 together, marriage easily becomes marred in fights centered around felt needs and grievances.

Then, in Ephesians 6, Paul tells believers why we need all the blessings from chapters 1–3: Satan and his horde of demons are still waging war against us (Ephesians 6:10–12), just as they did against Adam and Eve. You are at war with Satan, and your marriage is the battleground.

What’s the prescription? Remember that your spouse is not your enemy. How often do we turn our weapons against each other and unleash our anger there? That’s how Satan slowly builds a beachhead to launch his attacks against marriage (Ephesians 4:26–27). Our Lord taught us that a house divided against itself can’t stand. Satan’s strategy is to use friendly fire — spouses attacking each other — to defeat our marriages.

It’s imperative, then, for couples to learn how to engage in spiritual (not spousal) warfare. And spiritual wars can be won only with spiritual weapons. So, put on the whole armor of God, all the gracious gifts God has given you in Christ. “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).

2. Reject any voices who reject God.

Satan spoke through the serpent to confront Eve with a choice: believe what God had said, or accept what she was hearing now. She chose to believe the serpent’s lie. She believed that she could step out from God’s authority and decide for herself what was right and wrong. As Satan led, Eve followed, and as Eve led, Adam followed. The order of creation was turned upside down, with God at the bottom. And lest we think we would have fared better, this is always how sin works in a marriage — yes, even our sin.

God has not called the husband to lead because he is superior to his wife (he’s not). A husband must lead because God intentionally made the man to lead and his wife to help (Genesis 2:18). God looked at that kind of marriage, and he saw that “it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). Satan saw the same dynamics, and he hated them, so he came to overturn them. He sought to make the wife the head; the head, the helper; and God, the enemy. And, again, he’s whispering the same lies today. He wants women to chafe under the idea of submission and for men to run from the calling of headship.

What’s the prescription? Again, notice how Paul weaves the marriage story in Ephesians. Wives are called to submit to their husbands (Ephesians 5:22–24), and husbands are called to sacrificially love and serve their wives the way Christ loved the church (verses 25–30). This kind of marriage is possible only when wives and husbands are filled with the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 5:18). Elsewhere, Paul adds that believers are filled with the Holy Spirit when we are filled with God’s word (Colossians 3:16).

So, regularly read God’s word, on your own and as a couple, and follow what you read by faith. And know that when you hear a voice that contradicts God’s word — in society, in your circles of relationships, in your own sinful mind — you hear the enemy’s voice (1 Timothy 4:1). Satan stirs the zeitgeist of societies to rebel against God’s ways (Ephesians 2:2–3). When I counsel struggling couples, I make sure I ask questions like these: What has your time in God’s word been like? How consistently are you attending Bible study and adult Sunday school? Not surprisingly, couples struggling in their marriages usually aren’t consistently listening by faith to the word of God.

3. Resist the urge to idolize marriage.

So far, I’ve only mentioned Eve’s failure in the fall, so let me shift to the principal one responsible for the fall: Adam. Where was he?

The indictment God raised against him was that he “listened to the voice of [his] wife” (Genesis 3:17). What could be sinful about Adam listening to his wife? We know that God gives a wife to help her husband, and he assumes the man will listen well to her counsel. The book of Proverbs personifies wisdom as a woman whom a man should embrace and listen to. It climaxes with a man finding a wife whose wise words are immensely helpful to him (Proverbs 31:26). However, preferring anyone or anything to God (or against his will) is to make that person or thing an idol.

We don’t know much about the first woman, Eve, but Moses makes at least one thing about her clear: her husband delighted in her (Genesis 2:23). The serpent, then, seems to have used the man’s delight against him. Satan used her to get him to choose her over God. And if we let him, he’ll do the same in our marriages today. How often couples sin to try to get what they want from each other (James 4:1–2)! Anytime you are willing to sin to get something (or to sin because you don’t get something), you have an idol.

What’s the prescription? If you are sinning in your marriage, follow that pattern to the idol and repent of it. God blessed couples to enjoy each other in marriage, but we’re never to allow our delight in marriage to supplant our desire for God. Whether your spouse gives you much or little, true contentment will never come from him. It can’t. So, stop telling yourself that. If your spouse could satisfy your soul, why would we need the bread of life and the fountain of living water (John 6:35; 7:37–38)?

Embrace the secret to contentment (in marriage and in all of life): that you won’t find contentment in getting what your flesh wants, but in being satisfied in what God has given you in Christ (Philippians 4:12–13).

Greater Than Our Challenges

Sadly, because of sin and the consequences of sin, we’ll have to face more challenges than these in our marriages. The fall robbed us of shalom with God, with our spouse, and with the world. The hope for our marital challenges is the last and better Adam, Christ. God, who knows the end from the beginning, promised in Genesis 3:15 that he would send another man who would subdue the serpent and restore God’s righteous reign over our rebellious creation. Through his death and resurrection, that man is reconciling all things back to God. He is the hope for your marriage, and his name is Jesus.

No, he has not lifted the curse from creation yet. So, none of us has a struggle-free marriage. However, he has overcome sin and Satan for us. He is Immanuel — God with us — and he is all the grace we need to overcome the challenges common to our marriages.

Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Throughout church history, 1 Peter 3:21 has proved to be one of the more challenging texts to interpret in all of Scripture. Not only does the verse appear in one of the more puzzling paragraphs in the New Testament (1 Peter 3:18–22), but Peter seems to depict baptism as actually being salvific. How does baptism save us?

As is the case with so many difficult texts in Scripture, persistently pressing on the biblical text sheds light on its meaning — in this case, that baptism is not regenerative in itself, but powerfully expresses the individual’s faith in the sufficiency of Christ to save.

Righteous Sufferers Will Be Exalted

In the immediate context of the verse, Peter’s main point is that faithful Christian suffering results in eternal blessing. Christians are “blessed” if they suffer for the sake of righteousness (1 Peter 3:14), and they should deem it “better” to suffer for doing good (1 Peter 3:17).

The word “for” at the outset of verse 18 is crucial, for it shows that 1 Peter 3:18–22 grounds why Christians should believe such suffering is “better.” Verses 18–22 recount the story of Christ, who suffered and died (verse 18a) but who then was “made alive,” proclaimed victory, and ascended to God’s right hand (verses 18b–22). Though Christ is unique in that he accomplished redemption through his death and resurrection, he also serves as an example for us to follow (see 1 Peter 2:21). Just as Christ’s suffering led to his exaltation, so too will our righteous suffering.

In the midst of Christ’s story, Peter offers Noah as another example of a righteous sufferer whom God exalted in due time. In contrast to those in Noah’s generation who had disobeyed, Noah and those with him — they numbered eight in all — “were saved through water” (verse 20). Peter then draws out a typological relationship between the flood and baptism: the flood is the type and baptism the antitype, the latter of which “now saves you” (verse 21).

Just as Noah and his family were delivered by means of the ark “through water,” so Christians are delivered by means of Christ through baptism. In this sense, since Noah’s salvation typifies ours through Christ, Peter includes it at this point in his letter to help us grasp more clearly our own salvation through Christ and to ground more firmly our hope for future exaltation.

With this context in mind, what does it mean that baptism saves a person? Does baptism save apart from faith, or does baptism express faith? Do the baptismal waters in themselves wash away sin and infuse new life into the baptized, or is baptism a metonymy (a figure of speech that stands for the thing it represents) for Christ’s saving work that we receive by faith, which is expressed in baptism?

Does Baptism Actually Save?

One of the major interpretations of 1 Peter 3:21 is that Peter teaches some version of baptismal regeneration. According to Roman Catholicism’s understanding of the verse, for example, baptism is salvific in three ways: it washes away sin, grants new life to the baptized, and admits the baptized into the church.

In its purifying function, according to this view, baptism washes away both original sin and actual, pre-baptismal sins. The baptismal waters wash away both the guilt and the condemnation of sin. In its regenerative function, baptism infuses new life into the baptized so that the individual is actually and really dead to sin and granted a share in eternal life. In its ecclesiological function, baptism admits the baptized into the church, the communion of the saints, outside of which there is no salvation.

Baptism, then, conveys saving grace in that God’s grace becomes effective to the individual in baptism, for what baptism “signifies” it “actually brings about” in the baptized (Catechism of the Catholic Church §1234). According to Thomas Aquinas, the sacraments, of which baptism is the first, “effect what they signify,” not as the principal cause (which is God alone), but as the instrumental cause of God’s saving grace (Summa Theologica 3.62.1). This view of the sacraments, sometimes labeled ex opere operato (“by the work worked”), places the efficacy of the sacrament in the act itself. In this sense, the Roman Catholic interpretation of 1 Peter 3:21 is that baptism is necessary for salvation because baptism in itself actualizes salvation.

While Roman Catholicism’s interpretation of 1 Peter 3:21 may account for Peter’s straightforward claim that baptism saves the individual, it fails to account adequately for two features in the text: (1) the typological relationship between the flood and baptism (1 Peter 3:20–21a) and (2) the close association between faith and baptism (1 Peter 3:21b).

What Do the Waters Picture?

Regarding baptism’s typological relationship to the flood, the flood was not the means of salvation per se, but the occasion for salvation through the ark. Baptism certainly represents cleansing from sin, but it also evokes salvation through judgment. In the ancient context, large bodies of water and floodwaters were foreboding and dangerous because they were uncontrollable elements in nature that often brought destruction. Peter’s link between baptism and the flood is meant to draw out the link between baptism and judgment.

The flood was God’s judgment on humanity for sin, and Noah and his family were saved because they were in the ark. While in some sense Noah’s salvation included his deliverance from the corruption of those around him, at a more fundamental level he was delivered from the floodwaters of death by means of the ark. In this sense, the floodwaters in themselves worked judgment, whereas the ark worked salvation for Noah and his family in the midst of judgment.

Peter’s link between the flood and baptism suggests that baptism operates in similar ways. Like the flood, the waters of baptism in themselves evoke judgment; they are not the means of salvation per se, but they signify the occasion in which God worked salvation for his people through Christ. Further, just as the ark was the formal means of salvation for Noah and his family, believers are saved “through the resurrection of Jesus Christ” (verse 21). The mode of immersion poignantly portrays such salvation through judgment, for immersion evokes both the overwhelming floodwaters of judgment (as the person is submerged) and the salvation from judgment the baptized receives through Christ (as the person emerges).

This observation about the typological relationship between the flood and baptism suggests that Peter did not conceive of baptism as effectual in itself. According to the typology, baptism is not an ex opere operato mechanism by which the baptismal waters effect what they signify. Rather, the typology points to Christ, who like the ark saves us in the midst of God’s judgment through his death and resurrection on our behalf. Since baptism signifies our union to Christ in his death and resurrection (see Romans 6:3–4), baptism is an apt metonymy for Christ’s saving work that draws our attention to the image of salvation and judgment as typified in the flood.

Baptism as Faith Expressed

The baptismal waters do not convey saving grace in themselves, for baptism, in expressing the faith of the baptized, inexorably contains a subjective element. Baptism is not the “removal of dirt from the body but . . . an appeal to God for a good conscience” (1 Peter 3:21b). The contrast between the “body” and the “conscience” points to an outward versus inward reality.

Peter wants us to see that the significance of baptism is not the outward washing of water but that which is inward. Peter’s point isn’t to minimize water baptism — quite the opposite! Rather, the water is an outward reality that corresponds to a greater inward reality. The inward reality is “a good conscience,” which refers to a conscience unburdened by guilt and an awareness of sins forgiven and a righteous standing before God. Since Peter identifies baptism as an “appeal” or a “request” for a good conscience (these words offer a better translation than “pledge”), baptism is the act through which the individual requests forgiveness and cleansing from a guilty conscience, a request made in the presence of God and God’s people.

Such an understanding of baptism shows its inextricable link with faith in Christ, since Peter clarifies that baptism is the individual’s expression of faith in the sufficiency of Christ’s death and resurrection on his behalf. If the Roman Catholic view of baptismal regeneration were true (in which the sign actualizes the thing signified), it is difficult to see why Peter would downplay the baptismal water itself and instead draw our attention to the subjective element of faith bound up with that act of baptism.

Future Glory, Fresh Resolve

While 1 Peter 3:21 offers a hermeneutical challenge, Peter gives sufficient clues to elucidate in what sense he considers baptism salvific. Of particular importance is the way in which he frames the relationship between the flood and baptism, as well as his explanation of baptism as the request issuing from the individual’s trust in the sufficiency of Christ to save.

Peter reminds us that our accomplished salvation in Christ, typified by Noah’s deliverance from the flood, has already been powerfully expressed in our baptism, and that therefore we can find fresh assurance of future glory and a renewed resolve to endure present suffering for the sake of righteousness.

In this message, we are going to dig into the biblical teaching about leaders in the church — who they are and what they do. So, I invite you to come with me through five steps.

Step 1: I will try to show that it is God’s will that there be leaders in all Christian churches.

Step 2: I will try to formulate a brief definition of what this leadership is, or what leaders do.

Step 3: I will point to some biblical cautions about leadership.

Step 4: We will zero in on how leaders lead successfully. What’s the basic prescription for effectiveness?

Step 5: We will flesh that out with two practical implications for the pastor.

If you are helped by one-word summaries: We will deal with the justification of leadership, the definition of leadership, cautions about leadership, the implementation of leadership, and some illustrations of leadership.

Step 1: Justification of Leadership

It is God’s will that there be leaders in all Christian churches. We know this because God himself uses at least seven different words for these leaders as the New Testament describes them in the churches.

First is the very word “leader,” the present participle of hēgomai, hēgoumenos. This is the same word that Matthew 2:6 uses, where Micah’s prophecy is quoted: “From you, [Bethlehem], shall come a [leader] who will shepherd my people Israel.”

Then the word is used in Hebrews 13 for church leaders.

Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. (Hebrews 13:7)

Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you. (Hebrews 13:17)

The second word for leaders is translated in various ways. The idea is “one who stands before” the people (proistēmi).

We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you. (1 Thessalonians 5:12)

Let the elders who rule [or govern] well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching. (1 Timothy 5:17)

The third word is “overseer” (episkopos).

Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to [shepherd] the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood. (Acts 20:28)

An overseer, as God’s [household manager], must be above reproach. (Titus 1:7)

The fourth word, as we just saw, is “household manager” (oikonomos).

The Lord said, “Who then is the faithful and wise manager [of the household], whom his master will set over his household, to give them their portion of food at the proper time?” (Luke 12:42)

An overseer, as God’s [household manager], must be above reproach. (Titus 1:7)

The fifth word is “shepherd,” both as a verb (poimainein) and as a noun (poimēn).

Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to [shepherd] the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood. (Acts 20:28)

I exhort the elders among you . . . shepherd the flock of God that is among you. (1 Peter 5:1–2)

[Christ] gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers. (Ephesians 4:11)

The sixth word is “elder” (presbyteros).

They had appointed elders for them in every church. (Acts 14:23)

This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might . . . appoint elders in every town as I directed you. (Titus 1:5)

Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching. (1 Timothy 5:17)

The seventh word is “teacher” (didaskalos).

[Christ] gave [to the church] the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers. (Ephesians 4:11)

An overseer must be . . . able to teach. (1 Timothy 3:2)

So, I conclude that it is God’s will that there be such leaders in all the churches. They go by different names to connote different emphases of their role:

“Leader,” connoting direction and guidance for the people.
“One who stands before,” connoting a chairman-like governance.
“Overseer,” connoting a watchful supervisory role.
“Household manager,” connoting administration, organization, stewardship.
“Shepherd,” connoting protecting, nourishing, guiding.
“Elder,” connoting mature, exemplary responsibility.
“Teacher,” connoting the impartation and explanation of truth.

I think it would be fair to say, to most of you in this room right now, “That’s who you are.” And therefore, the rest of this message should be of the highest relevance to you.

Step 2: Definition of Leadership

So, from those seven descriptions of leaders in the church, what can we infer about the nature or the definition of leadership? Three things.

First, when you see that these designations include guidance, governance, supervision, organization, modeling, and the application of truth to people’s lives, it’s obvious that the meaning of leadership is getting people from where they are to where God wants them to be. Moving toward a goal is implied in all these words. God does not put leaders in a group in order for them to aimlessly go in circles. He puts leaders in a group to take them from where they are to where he wants them to be — in their thinking, in their feeling, in their action, maybe in their geographic location. Leadership implies that there’s a goal and a movement of people toward a goal.

Second, when you see that these seven designations of leadership involve watchful supervision, governance, administration, organization, protection, nourishment, teaching, and being mature examples, it becomes obvious that God has certain ways, means, and methods for getting people to his goal. Christian leadership does not look mainly to the world for how to lead people. It looks mainly to God. What has God said? Not only “Where is he taking his people in faith and holiness and maturity and love and fruitfulness?” but also “What has he said about how leaders are to get them there? What are God’s methods for taking a people to his goal?”

Third, even though it is not explicit in any of these seven designations of leaders, there is a biblical banner flying in 1 Peter 4:11 over all Christian service — including leadership — which makes it explicit that Christian service is done in reliance upon God’s power, not our own.

As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies — in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 4:10–11)

So, essential to Christian leadership is God’s gifted leader, God’s goal, God’s methods, and God’s power. And we really should add one more thing to those components that is obvious but unmentioned — namely, that there are followers.

“Effective Christian leadership speaks the word of God and lives the word of God.”

I am not a leader if I know where I want people to go and nobody’s following — nobody’s looking to me for guidance or finding help in my ministry. And I’m not a leader if everybody’s following me, and I don’t have a goal for where they should go. And I’m not a Christian leader if the place I want them to go is not where God wants them to go, or my methods of getting them there are not God’s methods, or the strength I depend on is not God’s strength.

So, here’s my definition of Christian leadership:

Christian leadership is knowing where God wants people to be and taking the initiative to use God’s gifts and God’s methods to get them there in reliance on God’s power through Christ, with God’s appointed people following.

Whatever God calls his people to be, you get out in front of them and take them there.

If God calls them to trust the promises of God in the best and worst of times, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to have unshakable hope in the face of cultural collapse, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be radically God-centered and Christ-exalting and Bible-saturated, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to spread a passion for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through Christ, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be happy in all their suffering, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to love their neighbors and make sacrifices for the needy, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be pure and holy and separate from the world, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be self-controlled and dignified and sober-minded, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be childlike and meek and gentle, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be as bold as a lion, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be generous and sacrificial in their giving, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to be world Christians with a global mindset and a heart for unreached peoples, you get out in front and take them there.
If God calls them to lay down their lives for Christ, you get out in front and take them there.

Christian leadership in our churches is knowing where God wants people to be and taking the initiative to use God’s gifts and methods to get them there in reliance on God’s power through Christ, with God’s appointed people following. God’s gifted leader, God’s goal, God’s methods, God’s power, God’s appointed following.

Step 3: Cautions About Leadership

The first caution is about my own wording: “Get out in front and take them there.” “Get out in front” is a metaphor, not a geographical mandate. Because, in fact, the effective leader might be behind them, giving them a necessary push. Or he might be beside them, protecting them from assault on their flank. Or he might be underneath them, building foundations to hold them up. Or he might be hovering over them, saying, “Up here! Up here! Look up!” Or he might be smack-dab in the middle of them, suffering everything that they suffer. So, “get out in front,” means “embody the goal, and do whatever you have to do, and go wherever you have to go in God’s way, to get the people to where God wants them to be.”

The second caution comes from Jesus. He gives this warning more than once — namely, the warning not to use the position of leadership as a way to gratify the desire for self-exaltation. I’ll just mention one example:

A dispute also arose among [the apostles], as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest [the desire to be recognized as greater than others]. And he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.” (Luke 22:24–27)

The unmistakable point of Jesus’s words is this: “Let the leader become as one who serves.” That is, the aim of the leader is the good of the people, not the glory of his own name. He’s not out to be “regarded” as great (verse 24) or to be “called” a benefactor (verse 25). He lives for the good of his people — the temporal good and especially the eternal good.

Paul gave his commentary on Jesus’s words “exercise lordship” (kyrieuousin, verse 25) in 2 Corinthians 1:24: “Not that we lord it over [kyrieuomen] your faith, but we work with you for your joy, for you stand firm in your faith.” Paul, the leader, has a goal: the joy of your faith! And Paul, the leader, has a God-appointed method. And it is not lording it over them, but taking the form of a servant and working with them for their joy.

But before I leave the cautions, let me give a caution about the cautions. Luke 22:26 (“Let the . . . leader [become] as one who serves”), which is meant to make leaders humble and loving, is sometimes used to make leaders fearful and silent. The “Me Too” movement, multiple pastoral abuses, the indiscriminate disparaging of all biblical headship as toxic masculinity — these forces in our time are turning servant leadership into all servant and no leadership. When Jesus bound himself with a towel and got down on his knees and washed the disciples’ feet — like a servant — nobody in that room doubted for an instant who the leader was.

If you are in a staff meeting, or a meeting with the elders, or a congregational meeting, and a controversial issue arises, and someone goes to the microphone and gives an argument, and the argument is based on factual mistakes, or incomplete information, or unbiblical assumptions, or illogical reasoning, or emotional manipulation, and the congregation is being swayed by this presentation, your silence, pastor, meek as it may seem, is not servanthood. It’s either a failure of discernment or it’s cowardice. It is not leadership.

Your job at that moment is to go to the microphone and say to the person, “These two parts of what you said are true, but here’s the problem with what you said.” And you set the record straight with facts, biblical truth, and clear thinking. You will feel the people shifting back from error to truth. Dozens of godly people out there who could smell the error but couldn’t name it will be thankful for you, because you rose to the occasion as a leader, and you named the error so that people could see it. You served them well.

If you sit there and think, “If I stand up and correct this person, they will very likely accuse me of shaming and abusing them,” and you let that fear cause you to be silent in the name of humble, caring, servant leadership, you have failed your flock and acted like a hireling. Jesus told us, “Blessed are you when others revile you . . . and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account” (Matthew 5:11). So, the caution about the caution is this: Don’t let the spirit of the age define leadership. Trust God and be biblical.

Step 4: Implementation of Leadership

How do leaders lead successfully? Let’s zero in on the heart of the matter. When you take the seven designations of New Testament leaders (leading, governing, overseeing, managing, shepherding, modeling, teaching), every one of them cries out for God to speak:

In leading, I need to know from God where he wants his people to be.
In governing, I need to know from God how to govern.
In overseeing, I need to know from God what I am watching for in my supervision.
In managing, I need to know from God what I am organizing this people for.
In shepherding, I need to know from God what I should feed my sheep and what I need to protect them from.
In modeling, I need to know from God what kind of example I am to set.
And in teaching, I need to know from God what I am to teach.

Which brings us to my main text, Hebrews 13:7:

Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith.

This author draws out two things about these leaders and holds them up for us to see and imitate. First, they spoke the word of God. “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God.”

Second, their way of life was such an exemplary walk of faith that its outcome was glorious and, therefore, worthy of imitation. “Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life [which probably means that they stayed true to Christ all the way to the end and died well], and imitate their faith.”

So, my summary for us would be this: effective Christian leadership speaks the word of God and lives the word of God. Your calling as leader in the church is to speak the word of God and live the word of God.

And so, I turn finally to illustrate this leadership of speaking the word of God and living the word of God.

Step 5: Illustrations of Leadership

Let’s flesh out this way of leading with two practical implications for the pastor.

Knowing Ultimate Reality

First, if effective leadership speaks and lives the word of God, your lifelong, unwavering vocation, your lifelong priority, is to handle God’s word, the Bible, in such a way that you penetrate through its carefully construed sentences to the reality it is meant to communicate. The ultimate thing about the Bible is not that God spoke sentences and paragraphs (which he did), but that with sentences and paragraphs God revealed reality. Rightly understood propositions and narratives are a window onto reality, what really is.

And the main reality that the Bible reveals is God. “The Lord appeared . . . at Shiloh, for the Lord revealed himself to Samuel at Shiloh by the word of the Lord” (1 Samuel 3:21). Brothers, do you realize what a glorious calling you have? To spend all your life beholding ultimate reality, beholding God, through his word! Knowing God, knowing ultimate reality, through his word!

Or consider Ephesians 3:4: “When you read this [Paul’s letter], you can perceive my insight into the mystery of Christ.” When you move into the sentences of Ephesians and through them into ultimate reality, you perceive the mystery of Christ and how it relates to all things.

“If you know ultimate reality, you know the most important thing about all reality.”

Knowing the ultimate reality of God and Christ through the word of God, on the one hand, and being formed in your mind and emotions and actions by that reality, on the other hand, are not separate acts of the Christian leader. Why? Because you become what you behold. “We all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

And four verses later, Paul tells us where we behold this ultimate reality, this glory. Second Corinthians 4:4 says that, when satanic blindness is removed, we see “the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” We behold God in Christ in the gospel — that is, in the word of God. This is the lifelong vocation of the Christian leader: penetrating through the propositions and narratives of the Bible to ultimate reality — God in Christ, and how he relates to everything. Then speaking it and living it before your people. A glorious calling!

Applying Ultimate Reality

Second, we need to realize that what we know and become through this lifelong encounter with ultimate reality through God’s word is very limited in this life, yet it is without limit in its relevance and application to everything. What does that mean?

During my 33 years as a pastor, few things threatened to paralyze me in ministry like the endless stream of proposals for how I should do ministry. A constant stream of articles and seminars and lectures and courses and degrees and programs and books and videos and conferences, not even to mention the whole universe of knowledge of culture and politics and business and industry and education and philosophy and geography and anthropology and history and physics and chemistry and astronomy and sociology and psychology and literature and entertainment and medicine and and and . . .

Do you realize that, compared to what can be known, we don’t know anything? This is demoralizing and paralyzing for a leader whose job is to take his people where they’re supposed to go.

Except for this. And this is what kept me going for 33 years, and keeps me going today: Our encounter with ultimate reality through God’s word is without limit in its relevance and application to everything.

If you know God through his word and have insight into the mystery of Christ, then what you know and what you are becoming is without limit in its relevance to everything. Why is that?

Because ultimate reality relates to all reality. Ultimate reality is the most significant thing about all reality. Ultimate reality is the most important factor to know in relation to all reality. If you know ultimate reality, you know the most important thing about all reality. Which means you can walk into any conversation, anywhere in the world, about any topic in the world, and have the most important thing to say in that conversation.

They might be talking about the microscopic machinery inside the human cell. They might be talking about the mathematical calculations that enable you to land a rover on Mars with pinpoint accuracy. They might be talking about bizarre cultural customs of a tribe you’ve never heard of. Do you think you are a small player in those conversations?

If you have penetrated through the Bible into ultimate reality — to God and his creation and providence and Christ and redemption — you know the most important thing in every conversation on any topic anywhere in the world. Here’s what you can say:

God made this. He made it to reveal his glory. His aim is that it move you to worship him. If you don’t see it, it’s because you are blind in your sin. God has made a way so that this blindness can be forgiven and removed. Jesus Christ died and rose again for that. So, if you embrace him as your Savior and Lord and Treasure, you can know what these cells and equations and customs are ultimately about, which means your work can have ultimate meaning. You can turn your entire science and enterprise into an act of worship.

Take heart from this, glory in this, that what your people need from you is not that you know all reality, but that you know, and are formed by, ultimate reality — that you know what God has revealed about himself in his word, and that it has shaped your life. Your leadership is to speak that reality and live that reality — to speak the word of God and to live the word of God.

Spend your life this way, and someone will say of you someday, “Remember your leader, the one who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of his way of life, and imitate his faith.”

Most earnest Christians have a deep longing to see and experience a spiritual revival. Many regularly pray for it. But ask a hundred such Christians to describe what they’re longing and praying for, and you’re likely to get dozens of different answers, depending on how their cultural backgrounds, church traditions, theological paradigms, and personal experiences have formed their concept of what a revival is.

Some think of revivals primarily as large-scale historical events that result in many people converting to the Christian faith, leaving notable effects on the wider society (like the early chapters of Acts or the “Great Awakenings”).
Some think of revivals primarily as what happens when Christians in a local church or school experience renewed spiritual vitality and earnestness together (like what took place at Asbury University in early 2023).
Some think of revivals primarily as strategically designed and scheduled events that aim to evangelize unbelievers and/or exhort believers to pursue a deeper life of personal holiness and Christian service (like Billy Graham’s evangelistic crusades).
And some think of revivals primarily as what happens whenever an individual Christian experiences a transformative, renewing encounter with the Holy Spirit.

Now, apart from some debates over definitions (like what differentiates revival from renewal), most earnest Christians would agree that when the Holy Spirit moves in power to give new life to unregenerate people and renewed life to regenerate people, the results can look like all those descriptions — and certainly more.

But when earnest Christians long for revival, despite whatever concept and phenomena they associate with that term, they’re not really longing for that concept or those phenomena. If you were to ask those hypothetical hundred Christians to press deeper and describe what they most deeply long for when they long for revival, I believe the nature of their answers would be very similar.

‘It’s You’

To illustrate what I mean, let me describe a touching scene that occurs at the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the third book C.S. Lewis wrote in his seven-part Chronicles of Narnia series. After another wonderful Narnian adventure, just before Aslan sends Lucy and Edmund back to our world, Lucy says,

“Please, Aslan, . . . before we go, will you tell us when we can come back to Narnia again? Please. And oh, do, do, do make it soon.”

“Dearest,” said Aslan very gently, “you and your brother will never come back to Narnia.”

“Oh, Aslan!” said Edmund and Lucy both together in despairing voices.

“You are too old, children,” said Aslan, “and you must begin to come close to your own world now.”

“It isn’t Narnia, you know,” sobbed Lucy. “It’s you. We shan’t meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?”

“But you shall meet me, dear one,” said Aslan.

“Are — are you there too, Sir?” said Edmund.

“I am,” said Aslan. “But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name.” (247)

If you haven’t read the Narnia books, it’s important to understand that Lucy and Edmund hadn’t enjoyed merely a few childish, holiday-like adventures in Narnia. They, along with their two older siblings, had been Narnian kings and queens for decades. They had fought in fierce battles, and shed their blood and tears for its defense. They had loved and cared for its citizens. And their encounters with the great lion, Aslan, had transformed their lives. Narnia felt more like home to them than any place they’d ever been, and when they weren’t in Narnia, they longed to be there.

So, when Lucy says, “It isn’t Narnia, you know,” she’s saying something profound. There’s a deeper longing inside her than her longing for Narnia. It’s a longing that fuels her longing for Narnia. And she names it for Aslan in two words: “It’s you.”

Those two words reveal what makes everything about Narnia so wonderful to Lucy — in fact, makes Narnia Narnia for her: Aslan. Take Aslan out of Narnia, and would she still want to return? We can hear her answer when she says, “How can we live, never meeting you?” For Lucy, an Aslan-less Narnia is a lifeless Narnia.

It’s Him

The real reason earnest Christians long for revival is similar to the real reason Lucy longed to return to Narnia. Lucy longed to experience being close to Aslan; Christians long to experience being close to Jesus. It isn’t the manifestations of revival we most deeply long for, as wonderful as those manifestations might be. It’s the Source of revival we really want. We long for the Life that gives us life, sustains our life, and renews our life — that in Christ, by his Spirit, we might “be filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19). If Jesus were to ask us what it is about revival that we want, we might paraphrase Lucy in our reply: “It isn’t revival, you know. It’s you.”

In saying it’s Jesus we most deeply long for in revival, we mean that we desire a more profound experiential knowledge (Philippians 3:8) of his refreshing presence (Act 3:20), his incomprehensible love (Ephesians 3:19), his all-surpassing peace (Philippians 4:7), and his immeasurable power (Ephesians 1:19). We desire all that the triune God, “the fountain of life” (Psalm 36:9), promises to be for us in Jesus. For Jesus is our great Fountainhead. For us “to live is Christ” (Philippians 1:21), because Christ himself is our life (John 1:4; 14:6).

And in saying it’s Jesus we most deeply long for in revival, we mean that we desire his kingdom to come (Matthew 6:10) and for all who are appointed to eternal life to believe (Acts 13:48) — all those whom Jesus had in mind when he said, “I must bring them also” (John 10:16).

That’s why our longings for revival are not focused on our personal experience. In Christ, we are members of a larger body (1 Corinthians 12:27) of whom Christ is the life-giving head (Ephesians 1:22). Our life is bound up with our fellow members of Christ’s body, and we will not experience the fullness of Christ apart from the other members (Ephesians 4:11–13). So, we can’t help but desire revival both in the conversions of others whom Jesus must bring and in the renewal of all believers (including us) whose spiritual strength has weakened and whose spiritual senses have dulled.

It isn’t our imagined revival that we desire most. It’s Jesus and all God promises to be for us in him. Take Christ out of the event of revival, even if it had all the amazing, adrenaline-inducing phenomena we might associate with it, and would we still want it? No, because a Christless revival is lifeless revival. And would we be content if we were the only revived Christian in our church or community? No, because “if one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Corinthians 12:26).

Echo of Jesus’s Desire

As Lucy and Edmund speak with Aslan, they realize they are near the border of Aslan’s country — a land they’ve only heard about, never seen, yet the one place in all the worlds, including Narnia, they most deeply long to be. But Aslan tells them that they can enter his country only from their own world (our world).

“What!” said Edmund. “Is there a way into [your] country from our world too?”

“There is a way into my country from all the worlds,” said [Aslan]. . . .

“Oh, Aslan,” said Lucy. “Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?”

“I shall be telling you all the time,” said Aslan. “But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder.” (246–47)

Reading this fictional conversation now, in my late fifties, stirs up the aching longing it did when I read it in my late childhood, nearly half a century ago. It was this painfully pleasurable longing that drew me back again and again to the Narnian chronicles as a boy (I don’t know how many times I read those books). I learned whom Aslan represented, and I wanted to meet him face to face. I shared Lucy and Edmund’s desire to actually be in his promised land and finally, as Lewis puts it in another book, to “find the place where all the beauty came from” (86). I still do.

So does everyone who encounters the real “Aslan” and comes to love and trust him. How can we not? For that deep longing is an echo in our souls of the deep longing Jesus has, which he expressed to his Father when he prayed,

Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. (John 17:24)

It is this aching longing that fuels our recurring (we might say continual) desire to experience revival. But it’s not the mere experience of spiritual refreshment we desire; we long for the Place, the Person, where all the refreshment comes from. We long for what Jesus longs for: that we would be with him where he is, to see his glory.

To know that this is the core of our revival longings can help sustain our prayers for it. It can also protect us from disillusionment should we experience revival and all the confusing messiness that tends to accompany it. Because at the end of the day, it isn’t revival, you know. It’s Jesus.

I had read the account of the woman at the well countless times before, but never had it spoken so powerfully to a quiet pain I have often felt: loneliness.

I had always focused on the needs of the woman while reading John 4, but this time the needs of her Savior arrested my attention. In the familiar account, a weary and thirsty Jesus sits down beside the well of Sychar while his disciples, hungry after an exhausting journey, venture into the Samaritan town to buy food (John 4:6–8). In the next scene, a woman arrives to draw water from the well. Jesus asks her for a drink, and then he offers her a drink of another kind — a soul-satisfying draft of living water (John 4:13–14).

Presumably, Jesus drinks the water the Samaritan woman draws from the well, but after his disciples return with food, hungry as he almost certainly is, he does not eat. Instead, in another play on words, he tells his disciples, “I have food to eat that you do not know about” (John 4:32). The bewildered disciples conclude that someone else had given him food. Knowing their confusion, Jesus explains, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me” (John 4:34). Jesus had feasted on a spiritual harvest that day; so spiritually full was he that his physical hunger diminished.

Food for Lonely Hearts

Rereading this account was a hunger-diminishing experience for me. I was weary and thirsty from a journey of my own — another out-of-state move. If T.S. Eliot’s Prufrock “measured out [his] life with coffee spoons,” I could measure mine out with these moves, each one bringing fresh feelings of loneliness as I once again took on the identity of an outsider. I was hungry for friendship and belonging.

Jesus’s example at the well of Sychar gave me a plan for dealing with my loneliness-hunger. Jesus modeled the joyful obedience that suppresses lesser appetites. I learned that busying myself with the good works God had given me could fill me spiritually such that my hunger for belonging would recede into its proper place.

Just as Jesus experienced fullness through faithful obedience to God, I have learned to find joy and satisfaction in faithfully completing the work God gives me each day, whether preparing another meal, writing sample sentences for grammar class, responding to emails, arbitrating my children’s disputes, greeting a neighbor, sending up prayers of confession and pleas for help, or even cleaning a spill in the refrigerator. Each small act of faithfulness begins to fill my soul, much like the first bite each morning begins to fill my stomach.

Best and Dearest Friend

I am hardly alone in my loneliness. About one in four adults across the world suffers from a similar hunger. Bankrupt of any long-term solutions, the world suggests increased human interactions to alleviate the suffering. But for all our digital connectedness, the loneliness epidemic persists and grows.

Only in Jesus do we find a solution to the growing problem. He offers the hunger-suppressing plan of faithful obedience. But he also offers so much more. Jesus offers the presence of a sympathetic friend. If, as C.S. Lewis observes, friendship begins when one person says to another, “What! You too? I thought I was the only one” (The Four Loves, 78), then in Jesus we find the best and dearest friend. He fully “sympathize[s] with our weaknesses” and has experienced the pain of their accompanying temptations, “yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:14–16).

Acquainted with Loneliness

Jesus is a friend who, just like us, is intimately acquainted with hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and, yes, even loneliness.

Has anyone been more misunderstood than Jesus, whose divine proclamations of truth were met with ignorance and doubt? “We brought no bread” (Matthew 16:7). “He is out of his mind” (Mark 3:21). Who can forget the derision of his fellow Galileans after he authoritatively taught and powerfully performed miracles among them? “Is not this the carpenter’s son?” (Matthew 13:55). How about Peter’s brazen rebuke when Jesus revealed the wisdom of God’s salvation plan? “This shall never happen!” (Matthew 16:22).

Has anyone been more alone than Jesus, who “set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51)? While his friends and brothers carried on with their lives, he single-mindedly pursued the task his Father had given him. He wasn’t granted the gift of human marriage or children or property, as so many others had been. Instead, his was the lonely path to Golgotha. Who has been more alone than the one who, in his greatest hour of need, fell on his face, prayed, wept, and bled, only to find those dearest to him sleeping, unable to help shoulder his burden? “Could you not watch with me [for] one hour”?! (Matthew 26:40).

Has anyone endured more hatred than Jesus, whose bloodied body and anguished cries from the cross provoked the jeering of the violent mob who had gathered to satisfy their bloodlust? There, Jesus endured the lonely lash of public mockery: “He saved others; he cannot save himself. . . . Let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God’” (Matthew 27:41–43).

Nor was Jesus a stranger to the loneliness of bereavement, likely having mourned his (adopted) father Joseph’s death. Matthew 14:13 also records his withdrawal “to a desolate place” after hearing the news of his cousin John’s beheading in prison. See his lament over the coming judgment on Jerusalem or his tears at the tomb of Lazarus (Matthew 23:37–24:2; John 11:33–36). Jesus knew and grieved the separation of death.

Misunderstood by family and friends, rejected by his countrymen, despised by the religious leaders, forsaken and betrayed by his disciples, Jesus understood loneliness. No one was more of an outsider, and no one could be more of a friend. To our own lonely hearts, the ever-present Jesus whispers the comforting words, “Me too. You are not alone.”

Glorious Through Loneliness

But more than offering the presence of a friend in loneliness, and more than offering a plan for alleviating the loneliness, Jesus offers purpose to the suffering of loneliness. If Jesus was perfected through suffering (Hebrews 2:10), will we not also be perfected through our own suffering? Loneliness is another of those “various trials” that may grieve us throughout our lives (1 Peter 1:6). But as we embrace the affliction, as we resist the temptations it brings, and as we pursue joy by faithfully doing the work God has given us, our faith is refined like gold, becoming more and more precious as the impurities melt away (1 Peter 1:7).

One of the purposes of loneliness — and indeed, one of the main purposes for every kind of suffering — is for God to make us glorious through it. And as we all in varying degrees share the sufferings of Jesus, so shall we also share in his glory.

Not Alone

Maybe yours is the loneliness of bereavement, or of being the outsider, or of being misunderstood or cynically judged. Maybe your life circumstances distinguish you, though not in the way you would prefer. Maybe you endure chronic snubbing in your neighborhood or chronic ridicule at school for being a Christian. Whatever the nature of your suffering, take heart, lonely soul! You are not alone. Jesus is with you.

Feast, as he did, on the “food” God has given you to eat. Be filled with “the peaceful fruit of righteousness” that enduring loneliness produces in this life (Hebrews 12:11). And wait in the company of your dearest friend for the coming glory, where his faithfulness has earned for you a share of his inheritance (Romans 8:17).

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast. Well, coming up soon — I believe on Wednesday of next week — as we read the Bible together, we read the first section of Matthew 23, where Jesus confronts the religious rulers of his day. And to anticipate that text — which is itself loaded with a full day’s worth of reflection — we have a cluster of thoughts and questions from a listener named Jim who lives just outside of Nashville.

“Pastor John, hello to you. I’m a bi-vocational elder and sometime preacher at my little church,” Jim writes. “I have always been drawn to Jesus’s words about the Pharisees in Matthew 23:1–5. The text is instructive to me about preaching and personal holiness. It seems to suggest at least four things.

“(1) Hypocrites can preach truth. Jesus says these Pharisees are truth-tellers; therefore, ‘observe whatever they tell you’ (verse 3). That line is startling. There’s an obligation to obey the truth of what they get right, even though they, the Pharisees, are hypocrites. Does that hold true today? Irrespective of whether we know a preacher is truly obedient in private, we receive the truth of their preached words. It also seems to apply to men who are later disqualified for sin, and people are left wondering about all the truth they learned from that preacher over the years.

“(2) It seems to speak to a preacher’s assurance. It suggests that preachers who preach truth well do not find in that homiletical skill the grounds of their personal assurance if their private life does not measure up. Is that true?

“(3) It speaks to the calling of pastors to preach holiness. In verse 4, it seems the calling of others into personal holiness and living out personal holiness go together for a preacher. Would this make a preacher hesitant to preach holiness because his life doesn’t measure up in private? How far does his life need to measure up until he’s a hypocrite? Do I repent for myself every time I call for holiness from the pulpit? These questions haunt me, a preacher with remaining sin within me.

“(4) It speaks to all our service. If we serve only so others see us serving, that service is rendered vain (verse 5).

“Many thoughts and questions intertwine for me over this text. What do I get right and wrong on Matthew 23:1–5?”

Well, first of all, I just commend Jim for reflecting so profoundly on this text.

Let me give quick, short answers to those four questions — especially the last one, I think, was more of a comment — and then step back and see how those words of Jesus are so relevant for all of us.

Woe to the Scribes and Pharisees

Here are the words from Jesus. Jesus said to his disciples,

The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat, so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do. For they preach, but do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger. They do all their deeds to be seen by others. (Matthew 23:2–5)

1. Hypocrites’ Teaching

So, the first question Jim asks is, What should we do with the true teaching of hypocrites — preachers who preach true things and live a double life, denying by their private lives what they preach in public? There are three responses to that.

First, when duplicity is discovered in a pastor, the pastor should be removed from his service, according to the qualifications given for the elders in 1 Timothy 3:1–7 and Titus 1:5–16.

Second, truth is truth even if a donkey or a heretic or the devil himself speaks it, just as when the demons called out to Jesus, “[We] know who you are — the Holy One of God” (Mark 1:24). Then Jesus wouldn’t let them talk, it says in Mark 1:34, “because they knew him.” They got part of the truth right, but they hated it. So, we must not make a preacher’s sins the only measuring rod of all that he teaches. He may say true things and hate them, and we should believe the true things and not hate them.

That doesn’t mean, by the way, that Jesus’s words about knowing them by their fruits (Matthew 7:20) are wrong, because there is always plenty about a false teacher that is false and misleading and needs to be recognized — even if many of his doctrinal sentences are true.

Third response to that first question: no, you do not have to assume that, when a pastor is discovered to be guilty of ministry-disqualifying sin, you need to reject all the truth that he’s taught you over the years. You don’t have to go back and say, “Well, I guess everything he taught me for all those years was false.” You don’t have to do that.

“Let us put to death immediately every temptation to love the praise of man.”

However, it will always be good to reassess that teaching in retrospect and see if there were omissions or imbalances in it — true as it was — that we can see in retrospect were owing to his hidden sin. He skipped things, he didn’t say certain things, and he rode this hobbyhorse all the time. And you see now in retrospect why he was skipping them, why he was riding his hobbyhorse.

That’s my response to his first question.

2. Oratory and Assurance

Second, he asks how the preaching gifts (the skills) of a pastor relate to his assurance. Now, part of the answer is that no public rhetorical skills can atone for private reprehensible sins. It is possible to be a great orator and a lost sinner. The blood of Jesus and its effect in our holiness is the source of our assurance, not our rhetorical skills. Which means, yes, that true, godly, humble, Christ-exalting preaching will be part of that holiness — and thus, in that sense, part of a pastor’s assurance.

3. Preaching Holiness

The third question Jim asks is, How holy do you have to be to preach holiness? That’s a good question. The way I would answer would be this: not perfect and not careless. Or to say it another way, humbly penitent for remaining failings but vigilant to gouge out your eye rather than sin and bring the gospel and your church into disrepute. According to 1 Timothy 4:15, your people need to see you passionate in your pursuit of holiness.

4. Serving for Praise

And the fourth question Jim asks is, If we serve to get the praise of man, is our service ruined before God? And the answer is yes, our service is ruined if we live for the praise of men.

So, those are my brief answers to the questions, but let’s step back and see how these words of Jesus relate to all of us.

Practice of Pharisees

I think it’s always helpful when you see a text like this to break it down into pieces, and then see how the pieces relate to each other. So, there are three steps that I see in Jesus’s exposure of the scribes and Pharisees.

One, they use the truth to cover their own sin. It says, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat” — that is, they teach what the truth of the law of God says — “so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do. For they preach, but do not practice” (Matthew 23:2–3). So, they cover their non-practice with teaching Moses’s law. They use truth to cover sin.

Two, they do not accompany that teaching with any God-dependent doctrine of enabling grace. They don’t teach people how to avail themselves of God’s grace to help them obey. They just leave people with burdens — heavy, weighty, crushing burdens of God’s commands — to do with no help at all. They won’t lift a finger to help people obey. “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger” (Matthew 23:4). There’s no doctrine of sanctifying, enabling, empowering grace.

And the third step in exposing these rascals is that they love the praise of man more than God or his truth. That’s the deep, deep desire, pleasure, treasure of their lives. It’s the governing principle of their lives. “They do all their deeds to be seen by others” (Matthew 23:5).

Fruit from a Poisoned Root

Now, here’s the key question: How do those three indictments relate to each other? Here’s what I would suggest, and this is how they become so relevant for all of us. I’m going to go backward and show how they build.

Number one, Jesus has put his finger on the deep desire of their lives — the deep love of their lives. What do they love? What do they desire? What’s the passion and the treasure of their lives that’s driving their decisions, their behaviors? And the answer is the praise of man. They taste how delicious is the pleasure of self-exaltation that comes through other people’s praise. That’s number one.

Number two, now we move backward (or forward) toward the next effect of that. What is the effect of loving the praise of man on the doctrine of grace in living a godly life? And the answer is that it cancels grace. Grace that enables a person to obey God’s law means we don’t get the praise — God does. Grace does. Grace is a breaking gift; it’s a humbling gift. They cannot embrace God-exalting grace because it contradicts their self-exalting love of human praise. So, they load men with burdens of duty and tell them, in essence, “Be self-sufficient like us” — implying that you’ll get some praise for your moral achievement like we get praise for our moral achievement.

And then finally, if they love the praise of man, and that keeps them from embracing God’s enabling grace for obedience, what do they do with truth, the truth of Moses’s law, when they sit on Moses’s seat? And the answer is that they don’t love the truth; they use the truth. Bible words become a cloak for hidden sin. They turn Moses’s seat into a place where they get human praise.

That is a warning to all of us, not just pastors. Let us, all of us, put to death immediately every temptation to love the praise of man. Instead, let us love the Christ-exalting, self-humbling grace of God through Jesus Christ to help us do what we need to do, and then let us use truth to stoke the fires of love for God and love for people.

Have you ever considered how Jesus came to know Scripture?

Anyone who reads the Gospels can see that Jesus clearly knew the Hebrew Bible well. He quotes Scripture over and over, and does so with the authority and freshness of someone who hasn’t only memorized God’s words but truly knows God’s heart. Jesus has profound insight into what the words of God mean, and so he is able to put Scripture to use in everyday life. He does not simply recite sentences he put to memory, but he is able to apply Scripture in various situations as he encounters them.

You might think, Well, of course Jesus knew Scripture! Jesus is God! He didn’t need to learn it, or work at it, like we do. But that suspicion betrays a significant misunderstanding in what it means for Jesus to be fully God and fully man in one person.

So, we have a little Christology to do here first. Jesus, as we encounter him in the Gospels — in human flesh and blood, walking this earth with human feet, speaking with a human tongue and mouth — this Jesus quotes and makes use of what Scriptures he has come to know with his human mind. The human Christ didn’t know Scripture simply because he was God. As genuinely human, he had to learn it. What he knew, and quoted, is what he had come to learn. Luke 2 tells us that “the [Christ] child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom,” and then a few verses later: “Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature” (Luke 2:40, 52). Born to us as human, Jesus grew not only in his human body but in his human mind.

Jesus is the universe’s unique two-natured person. He is fully God and fully man. Which means he has not only a human body but also a “reasoning soul,” that is, human emotions and a human will, and a human mind.

So, that’s our little Christology lesson. Now, in these few minutes together, let’s look at how Jesus knew Scripture so well.

Jesus’s Relationship with Scripture

In an earlier session this afternoon, we looked at Jesus’s habits of retreating and reentering, of withdrawing from society to commune with his Father and then returning to bless and teach and show compassion to others.

And the major piece we left out there, and now turn to in this session, is Jesus’s relationship with Scripture. It’s a remarkable theme to track in the Gospels. You might think, “Well, he’s God, so he just speaks, and whatever he says is God’s word” — which is true — “so he doesn’t really need to quote previous Scripture.” And then you observe how often, how strikingly often, Jesus says, over and over again, “It is written . . . It is written . . . It is written . . .” Scripture is central and pervasive in his ministry and teaching.

So, I’d like to do two things. First, let’s briefly see it in action and get a taste of the place of Scripture “in the days of his flesh” while among us (Hebrews 5:7). Then let’s address how Jesus knew the word so well. Very practically, how did Scripture come to have such a place in his life and ministry? And I hope that here, as we look at Jesus, you might catch a vision and find encouragement for how Scripture could come to have such a place in your own soul and ministry.

‘It Is Written’

First, then, the taste. Throughout the Gospels, we see in Jesus the evidence of a man utterly captivated by what is written in the text of Scripture.

At the outset of his public ministry, Jesus, led by the Spirit, retreats to the wilderness, and there, in the culminating temptations before the devil himself, he leans, not just once, but three times, on what is written (Matthew 4:4, 6–7, 10; Luke 4:4, 8, 10).

Then, returning from the wilderness to his hometown of Nazareth, Jesus stands up to read, takes the scroll of Isaiah, reads from 61:1–2, and announces, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21). He identifies John the Baptist as “he of whom it is written” (Matthew 11:10; Luke 7:27). He rebukes the proud by quoting Scripture (Mark 7:6; Luke 20:17). And when he clears the temple of money-changers, he does so on the grounds of what is written in Isaiah 56:7 (Matthew 21:13; Mark 11:17; Luke 19:46).

At every step on the way to Calvary, he knows that everything will happen, he says, “as it is written” (see especially the Gospel of John, 6:31, 45; 8:17; 10:34; 12:14, 16; 15:25). In Mark 14:21, he says, “The Son of Man goes as it is written of him.” Luke 18:31: “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished.”

His life and ministry turn on the word of God written in Scripture.

How Did Jesus Know the Word?

So, then, how does Jesus know the word so well? If Jesus isn’t simply drawing upon his divinity to quote texts and put to use concepts his human mind had never learned and considered, then how is it that Jesus knows Scripture so well?

The inspiration for this session came from reading Sinclair Ferguson’s chapter on “The Spirit of Christ” (in his book The Holy Spirit). There he addresses our question:

Jesus’s intimate acquaintance with Scripture did not come [magically from heaven] during the period of his public ministry; it was grounded no doubt on his early education, but nourished by long years of personal meditation. Later, in his public ministry, it becomes evident that he was intimately familiar with its contents . . . and also possessed in his human nature a knowledge of God by the Spirit which lent freshness, authority, and a sense of reality to his teaching. (44)

That’s what I want for you wherever God leads you: freshness, authority, and a sense of reality to your teaching.

Now, when Ferguson speaks here about Jesus’s “public ministry,” he implies an important relationship between public and private life: what Jesus says publicly in his three years of ministry reveals what he has learned and come to know in his three decades in private — and what he continues to feed and nurture in secret communion with his Father.

So, there are two parts here to Jesus’s private life, outside his public ministry. First, “his early education.” Before he could even speak, his mother and Joseph and others in Bethlehem, Egypt, and Nazareth would speak to him. Surely Mary quoted Scripture and sang Scripture to her son as he grew. This foundation, this “grounding,” of his early education, was important. Yet Ferguson rightly puts emphasis on the second and longer phase of Jesus’s private life.

He says that “Jesus’s intimate acquaintance with Scripture . . . [was] nourished by long years of personal meditation.” This is the secret to how Jesus knew Scripture so well: long years of personal meditation. Which is what I want to challenge you to this afternoon.

Lost Art of Meditation

What is meditation? It’s important to ask because we don’t do this very well today. This is countercultural. Biblical meditation is a lost art today. We’re not talking Eastern meditation, where you try to empty your mind and repeat a mantra, but biblical meditation, where you fill your mind with God’s words, and his truth, and slow down and seek to more fully understand the meaning of God’s words and feel their significance in your soul.

Biblical meditation pauses and ponders God’s words without hurry. It chews on the truth communicated by the words of God. It doesn’t just keep on reading at the breakneck speed at which our pixelated screens are teaching us to read (or better, skim). Meditation pauses and slows down and seeks to deeply ponder the truth of God’s word, and sense its weight upon the heart. That’s the kind of meditation that nourished “Jesus’s intimate acquaintance with Scripture.”

In other words, Jesus, like us, learned Scripture. He worked at it. Jesus knew Scripture so well, and quoted it so frequently, and spoke with such freshness and authority and a sense of reality because of his “long years of personal meditation.” His public ministry and teaching, with his seemingly effortless familiarity with God’s word, revealed years of personal, private enjoyment of God’s word.

Jesus knew Scripture so well not just because he was God, but because he dedicated his human mind and heart to daily, personal meditation on the word of God — and this even without having his own personal material copy of the Bible, like we do today. He had to remember and rehearse what he had been read and sung and taught. And so he did, to great effect.

Following Jesus into Scripture

I close with a threefold exhortation.

One, become the kind of person now, in God’s word, in private, that you hope to be someday in public ministry. Over time, who you have become in secret over your Bible will be revealed in public ministry.

Two, learn the power of memorizing God’s words. When you come across particular verses, or even phrases, or longer sections that feed and focus your soul in Christ-honoring ways, put them to memory. Try to build them into the folds of your brain, to put to use in sustaining your own soul and the souls of others.

And finally, three, go deeper still — deeper than mere reading, deeper even than mere memory. Make memory serve meditation. Memorize to meditate, and slow down to meditate as you memorize. And memorize, as a side effect, because you meditated. Set a course now for nourishing your “intimate acquaintance with Scripture” with long years of personal meditation, like Jesus, and with the help he purchased for you in the power of his Spirit.

ABSTRACT: The two major positions on lying (lying as communicating contrary to neighbor love and lying as communicating contrary to what one thinks or knows), while offering helpful insights, do not fully account for the biblical data. A Christian ethic of truth-telling begins by defining truthfulness and lying in conformity with God’s character as the primary principle, allowing the previous emphases on love for neighbor and conformity to thought to function as regulating principles.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Daniel R. Heimbach (PhD, Drew University Graduate School), retired senior research professor of Christian ethics at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, to explain how Christians have approached the ethics of truth-telling and to assess how those positions align with the complexity of biblical testimony.

Augustine once said, “Whether we should ever tell a lie if it be for someone’s welfare is a question that has vexed even the most learned.”1 And that is because, while the Bible shows that God demands truthfulness (Exodus 20:16; Zechariah 8:16; Ephesians 4:25), it also shows that God expects less than complete candor in some circumstances (1 Samuel 16:1–5; 2 Kings 6:14–20), that he uses lies for divine purposes (1 Kings 22:19–23; 2 Thessalonians 2:11), and that he commends people who demonstrate faithfulness to God by misleading enemies of God (Joshua 2:4–6; Hebrews 11:31; James 2:25).

These anomalies have led Christians to formulate two quite contrary positions on how best to interpret what the Bible says on the ethics of truth-telling: the first, formulated by the early church, views lying as communicating contrary to neighbor love; the second, first formulated by Augustine, views lying as communicating contrary to what one thinks or knows.2

The first position holds that communicating contrary to what one thinks or knows is sometimes right and true, because what makes communicating wrong and untrue is betraying a relational trust. According to this tradition, communicating in ways driven by neighbor love is right and true even if one’s words do not always align with what one thinks or knows is true.

The second position holds that communicating contrary to what one thinks or knows is necessarily wrong because inconsistency between what is communicated and what one believes to be true is always wrong. According to this tradition, speaking in line with what one thinks or knows is always right, even at the cost of betraying good people and allowing bad people to do wicked things.

I believe both traditionally held positions are partially right but also fall short of what the whole word of God says about communicating faithfully. In this essay, I aim first to review what the Bible says on this important subject and then argue for a position that helps resolve some of the tension between the traditionally held views.

Six Observations from Scripture

We can make at least six important observations concerning what the Bible says about communicating truthfully and being true.

1. God is the standard of truth.

First, the word of God identifies speaking truthfully with God and speaking untruthfully with opposition to him. God declares, “I the Lord speak the truth; I declare what is right” (Isaiah 45:19). God not only speaks truthfully but is the source and measure of truth. God is essentially “righteous and true” (Deuteronomy 32:3–4 CSB). He does not measure up to truth but rather is Truth Itself. When the Bible says God is “the God of truth” (Isaiah 65:16), it means not just that he is truthful, but that he is the standard to which everything true aligns.

Thus, everything God says is necessarily true (2 Samuel 22:31; Psalm 119:160), everything he reveals is necessarily true (Proverbs 30:5), everything he does accords with truth (Deuteronomy 32:4; Psalm 25:10; 145:17), and he can never be untrue (Numbers 23:19; Titus 1:2). When God says he delights in truth (Psalm 51:6) and commands us to speak truthfully (Zechariah 8:16; Ephesians 4:25), he calls us to be like him (Leviticus 19:2; 1 Peter 1:16).

2. The Bible sometimes commends misleading speech.

Second, while the Bible stresses the sanctity of truth and condemns what is untrue, it also includes passages in which communicating contrary to what is known so as to mislead bad people is treated either without disapproval or with commendation.

The Hebrew midwives deceive Pharaoh to save babies (Exodus 1:15–21).
Rahab deceives a king to save spies (Joshua 2:1–7; 6:17, 25; Hebrews 11:31; James 2:25).
God orders Israel to ambush the men of Ai (Joshua 8:3–8).
Jael deceives the Canaanite general Sisera (Judges 4:18–21; 5:24–27).
God develops a cover story to deceive Saul (1 Samuel 16:1–5).
Michal deceives Saul to protect David (1 Samuel 19:12–17).
David tells Jonathan to cover his absence by deceiving Saul (1 Samuel 20:6); Jonathan then deceives Saul to protect David (1 Samuel 20:28–29).
David deceives Ahimelech the priest about the mission he is on (1 Samuel 21:2).
David deceives the people of Gath by feigning madness (1 Samuel 21:13).
David deceives Achish about where he was raiding (1 Samuel 27:10).
David deceives Achish about his real allegiance (1 Samuel 29:8–9).
David tells Hushai to deceive Absalom by giving bad advice (2 Samuel 15:34); Hushai then deceives Absalom this way (2 Samuel 17:5–13), and God ensures Absalom is ruined by Hushai’s deceitful advice (2 Samuel 17:14).
A woman deceives Absalom’s men to save David’s men (2 Samuel 17:19–20).
Elisha deceives Syrians sent to arrest him (2 Kings 6:14–20).
Jeremiah deceives people to keep secret God’s message to Zedekiah (Jeremiah 38:24–27).
God says he will himself deceive false prophets (Ezekiel 14:9).

In these passages, bad people are misled, and Scripture treats these episodes either as if nothing wrong happened or as if the deceptions were good. While God never is false and never wants us to be, the Bible shows that God sometimes wants good people to mislead bad people.

3. God’s speech fits the worthiness of the recipient.

Third, God himself is not always straightforward. In several places, the Bible refers to God sending “a lying spirit” or “strong delusion” by which bad people are led to think and believe something untrue (1 Kings 22:19–23; 2 Chronicles 18:20–22; 2 Thessalonians 2:11). In such scenarios, theologians debate whether God uses the sinfulness of bad people against them or whether he deceives them himself. However these passages are interpreted, Psalm 18:25–26 indicates that God adjusts how he communicates to fit the worthiness of those addressed.

There David says, “With the merciful you show yourself merciful; with the blameless man you show yourself blameless; with the purified you show yourself pure; and with the crooked you make yourself seem [something else].”3 Translators struggle with that last word. The Christian Standard Bible and the New International Version use “shrewd,” the English Standard Version uses “tortuous,” the New American Standard Bible uses “astute,” the King James Version uses “unsavory,” and the New Revised Standard Version uses “perverse.” No English word easily captures what it means.

“The Bible never separates communicating truly with being true.”

But the core idea is plain: God communicates clearly with people who want to hear and accept what is true, and he communicates in ways hard to grasp when speaking with people who do not want to hear and accept what is true. Some people, it would seem, are not worthy of receiving clear communication. Nothing God says is untrue (Psalm 25:10), but he adjusts how he communicates to fit the worthiness of those to whom he speaks.

4. God’s ways transcend our comprehension.

Fourth, the Bible insists God’s ways are beyond human ability to fully comprehend. God is infinite. Everything he does or says has dimensions transcending human comprehension. For God, communicating truly is not the same as communicating exhaustively (and that is true for us as well). So, when interpreting what the Bible says about the ethics of faithful communication, we accept what we read, even if it does not fit what we expect or what we think it should say.

So, if someone explains the biblical truth ethic in a manner that makes perfect sense to us, we do well to suspect either that the explanation is wrong or that it distorts how God defines truth-telling in some way. When Scripture says, “God is not man, that he should lie” (Numbers 23:19), it suggests that God’s definition of truth and the truth ethic is not affected by human conventions and that none of the ways humans define or interpret truth-telling on their own are entirely correct.

5. Truth is practiced, not just spoken.

Fifth, the Bible never separates communicating truly from being true. God not only communicates truly but is Truth Itself. He is the essence, measure, origin, and definer of truth. He is the one without which nothing is true. As we communicate truly, we become more godly; as we become more godly, we communicate more truly.

First John 1:6 expresses this reality: “If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth.” John later adds that “when [Jesus] appears we shall be like him,” and “everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure” (1 John 3:2–3). In other words, the truth ethic is something practiced, not just verbalized.

6. Communicating accurately is sometimes wrong.

Sixth, in two places the Bible treats communicating accurately as morally wrong. The first is where Doeg the Edomite betrays David (1 Samuel 22:9–10), and the second is where Judas Iscariot betrays Jesus (Matthew 26:21–25). Each speaks in line with what he has in mind and states facts accurately, and yet the way each speaks is viewed as untrue in the sense of being morally wrong.

As James explains, communicating truthfully the way God defines it depends more on a speaker’s heart condition than on mere self-consistency or neighborliness. “If you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. . . . For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice” (James 3:14, 16). A bad heart can make what one says ethically false even if it is factually correct, aligns with what one thinks, and is considered neighborly in some way.

Anthropocentric Divide

Although both traditional explanations are able to account for some of the above observations, neither has been able to draw all of them into a coherent ethic of truth-telling. The reason seems to be that both approach the matter from an anthropocentric posture. One measures truth by consistency with human neighbors and the other by consistency with what a person has in his own mind.

By contrast, the Bible treats truthful communication in a theocentric manner and assumes that anything else distorts the biblical norm. Thus, in order to account for all six observations, we could describe lying not as communicating contrary to neighbor love or communicating contrary to what one thinks or knows, but as communicating contrary to God. This third position understands that what biblically true communication requires cannot be grasped apart from God. In this view, truth is not something by which we measure God, but something by which God measures us.

Division between the inherited traditions reduces to different ways of conceiving the wrong that occurs in untrue communication. If truthfulness means preserving relational trust (position one), the wrong of untruth occurs in betraying a trust relationship, as measured by others trusting us. If truthfulness means accurate alignment of words with thoughts (position two), the wrong of untruth arises in discord between them. If truthfulness means fulfilling a mission assigned by God (position three), however, the wrong of untruth occurs in hindering a divine mission or purpose, however words align with thoughts and however they affect those trusting us for their own reasons.

The main difference between the first and second positions has to do with how communicating truly and lying are defined. What Christians held before Augustine was not precise, but they generally aligned communicating truly with neighbor love, thus making it relational. During the early years of persecution before Constantine (AD 35–313), they justified communicating contrary to thought in order to save innocent people. The weakness of this approach is that neighbor love can be interpreted in subjectively sentimental terms.4

Augustine meant to purge the church from ethical relativity and generally did so by applying Scripture. But when it came to interpreting the sanctity of truth, he started with definitions of truthfulness and lying that came from Greek philosophy and not actually from the Bible itself. Thus, neither of the traditions dividing Christian ethics on this point actually defines truthful communication in biblically grounded, God-centered terms.

Theocentric Solution

Although Christianity has historically been divided on the ethics of truth-telling, God’s ethical reality is not. The coherence of God demands a single, coherent answer, and there are just three possibilities: (1) lying as communicating contrary to neighbor love; (2) lying as communicating contrary to what one thinks or knows; or (3) a category that transcends both — one that defines truthfulness and lying in ways that are neither neighbor-focused nor self-focused, but rather God-focused.

Ultimate Truth is a person (John 14:6); therefore, the sanctity of truth is ultimately personal and relational, not abstract and impersonal — not a concept, principle, or rule standing off by itself over and against God. All truly true truth comes from, relates to, and serves God (Romans 11:36); therefore, the obligation to communicate truly and to be true reduces to fidelity to God. In other words, moral communication primarily concerns fidelity to the One who is Truth Itself.

How this communication relates to neighbors, thoughts, or facts is secondary. While fidelity to our neighbors, our own thoughts, and to facts makes good sense, this fidelity is not an absolute in its own right. What it means and requires in any given situation depends on what the word of God says. After all, God is he who “[declares] what is right” (Isaiah 45:19), and fearing God is the only way to avoid “perverse speech” (Proverbs 8:13 CSB).

Jesus declares that he is himself “the truth” (John 14:6), and John says he is “full of . . . truth” (John 1:14). Jesus did not measure up to any humanly conceived notion of truth. Rather, being God, he was and is the source, measure, and end of everything true, including truthful speaking. He is not an instance of truth conceived in terms other than himself, but rather is Truth Itself.

When Jesus said, “Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice,” Pilate asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:37–38). Pilate understood Jesus to be saying something momentous. Jesus was claiming that all true communication and being true, all accuracy and meaning, all genuinely reliable existence, behavior, understanding, and conveying of information one to another is of and through himself — and that conceiving otherwise is false.

The lying as communicating contrary to God position subordinates, but does not discard, the traditional positions. It allows the other positions to serve subordinate roles. That is, loving neighbors and self-consistency can be viewed as regulating principles pointing toward what faithful communication most often requires. Pleasing Christ is the only absolute governing the biblical truth ethic. The regulating principles tell us what that ethic usually requires. But where the word of God says otherwise, we must follow. The primary principle of cohering to God himself supersedes the regulating principles of loving neighbors and self-consistency.

In the Bible, obligation to communicate truly and be true has two dimensions: one vertical in relation to God and one horizontal in relation to others. Communicating truly and being true involves both God and others. They are unconditional in relation to God, but they are conditional in relation to others, always depending on how they affect fidelity to God. The Bible refers to this condition as “the fear of God.”

Scripture tells us that “to fear the Lord is to hate . . . perverse speech” (Proverbs 8:13 CSB), and then it also tells us the Hebrew midwives and Rahab communicated as they did because they “feared” God (Exodus 1:17–21; Joshua 2:9–11). Because of this, and because Scripture regards the act by which Rahab protected the spies as a good example of faith pleasing to God (Hebrews 11:31), we should stop treating these accounts as “difficult” and should instead accept them as places where God explains how the way he defines communicating truly and being true differs from what we expect.

God uses these accounts to show that communication must be unconditionally true and faithful to himself and conditionally true and faithful to anyone or anything else. The midwives and Rahab demonstrated truthful communication the way God defines it.

The God Who Is Truth

Ethics is, at heart, a matter of worship that leaves two options. We can worship God or some guise of the devil; there is no middle ground. “Whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God” (James 4:4). We communicate either in step with God or in step with the devil. Conceiving of truth any other way skews or ignores the essential ethical questions at the heart of all truly true truth: “True by what measure?” or “True to whom?”

You cannot be true to the devil and to Christ at the same time, and you cannot communicate truly with both, in reference to both, or with the emissaries of both at the same time. Fidelity to ultimate truth requires infidelity to ultimate falsehood. Which is to say, communicating truly comes from Christ (1 Peter 3:15–16), and communicating untruly comes from hell (James 3:6).

This third position resolving the divide between self-consistency and neighbor love agrees with Allen Verhey’s caution: “God is Truth, but truth is not a second god.”5 There is a connection between God and truth, but it is not reciprocal. What we know of truth says something of God. But what we think of truth does not define God. Our understanding of truth does not limit God; at best, it only reflects God. To know truth truly, one must focus on God as he has revealed himself. Faithful communication depends on him and centers on him, not on us.

This study of the truth ethic reveals how God’s ordering of ethical reality is at once highly complex and united by a deep simplicity centered on God himself. It also demonstrates the paradoxical nature of revealed ethics. The biblically revealed ethic of communicating truly and being true, while consistent, absolute, universal, and unvarying, also runs contrary to human expectations. It is not self-contradictory but has marks of a mind transcending our own. It is not what most people think because it is more complex, deeper, and measured by a higher standard than most expect.

Yet at the same time, it is easy enough for anyone believing in the One who transcends human understanding to grasp, plain enough to convict sinners of deserved judgment, and sufficient to guide what we say and do in all situations arising in this fallen, fallible world.

Spirit-filled preachers revel in the wonder of a mere mortal speaking for God. Of course, neither the privilege nor the sufficiency to do so rests with the preacher. And yet, the wonder and the terror of proclaiming God’s life-giving word, in the power of the Spirit, to souls redeemed by Christ fuels the preacher’s desire to hone his craft.

Today’s preachers have two thousand years of theoretical know-how and fine-tuned practical wisdom concerning the art of preaching. How well we steward this vast wealth is debatable, but preaching theory has certainly advanced to levels of sophistication unknown in earlier centuries. Further, technological innovations enable us not merely to read a renowned preacher’s sermons but to hear his recorded voice deliver them.

So, with all these resources at our fingertips, why bother with the preaching ministries of ancient pastors like John Chrysostom (347–407)? After all, John’s homilies exist only in written form. They lack many of the structural features today’s homileticians deem important. They were addressed to an audience with whom we share little in common. They were framed for a cultural milieu unlike our own. So, why consider John’s preaching?

First, for these very reasons. Despite the historical and cultural chasm that separates our day from his, patristic scholars still specialize in studying John’s ministry. Sixteen hundred years removed, his 640 extant sermons still yield gold to those who mine them.

Second, God used John’s preaching to awaken love for the Scriptures and to change lives. John preached the same word we preach. He was filled and used by the same Holy Spirit that empowers biblical preachers today. This word-centered, Spirit-enabled dynamic ties us to John as much as to any scheme or school of wisdom on sermon-craft we encounter today.

Monk Turned Preacher

John ministered in the eastern theater of imperial Rome during the post-Nicene era of church history. Christianity was legalized in 313, and the first ecumenical council set forth an orthodox Christology at Nicaea in 325. This means John ministered in the heady days of the church’s fresh liberation from persecution and exponential growth. Across the empire, pagan temples were converted to church buildings that teemed with professing Christians — many of them, however, still tethered to their pagan proclivities.

John was born into a moderately wealthy home in the cosmopolitan city of Antioch. Here he received a superb education, but he abandoned a promising legal career to become a monk, much to the dismay of his renowned tutor, Libanius (313–393).

For six years, John lived in the hills above Antioch, mostly among other hermits, but also with several lengthy stints of total isolation. This period of intense spiritual formation aided John’s quest against sexual temptation. It also ruined his health.

John returned to Antioch, where he ministered under the tutelage of Archbishop Flavian and Bishop Diodore. These men equipped John to defend Nicene orthodoxy against Arianism, and to embrace the Antiochean school of biblical interpretation vis-à-vis the Alexandrian school’s more allegorical methodology.1

John ministered faithfully in Antioch for two decades. By age fifty, he was a wildly popular preacher and author, seemingly positioned to complete a long, distinguished career in the city of his birth.

Unlikely Reformer

When the bishop of Constantinople died, however, eastern emperor Arcadius devised a ruse to all but kidnap John and make him the next bishop of that second-most important see in Christendom. Arcadius and his influential wife, Eudoxia, valued John’s orthodox Christology and gifted preaching, warmly receiving John as their spiritual advisor. It appeared a match made in heaven.

As bishop of Constantinople, John oversaw one hundred thousand parishioners and hundreds of church officials. He was tasked with adjudicating church matters locally, as well as cases brought to him from realms beyond his see.

Primarily by means of his sermons, John endeared himself to his parishioners. Such loyalty, however, was not forthcoming from the ecclesiastical or imperial power brokers in Constantinople. Palladius, a sympathetic historian, summarizes John’s agenda as “sweeping the stairs from the top.”2 In other words, the erstwhile hermit, the man committed to sexual purity, the austere, Bible-loving, zealous champion for Christ had landed in decadent Constantinople intent on cleaning house. The city teemed with church officials who did not share John’s passion for holiness. He arrived like an Amish farmer entering a nightclub.

Perhaps no believer has ever occupied a more powerful position in both church and government. But John’s efforts to overturn the status quo alienated him from the luminaries of man’s kingdom. Through a series of dramatic plot twists, enemies prevailed over John’s reformational efforts and political obtuseness. He died in 407 during a second torturous exile, orchestrated by the same emperor and empress who had brought him to the city. His last words were “Glory be to God in everything.”3

Lessons from the Golden Mouth

The moniker “Chrysostom” (Greek for “Golden-Mouthed”) was ascribed to John two centuries after his death. Despite his reform efforts and capacities as an overseer, theologian, and imperial delegate, he is remembered most for his preaching.

By today’s standards, John’s homilies evidence little structure — no obvious central theme, proposition, or outlining, for example. They are largely running commentaries of passages with fewer than fifteen verses. Yet they remain a source of timeless instruction for today’s preachers. Among the wealth of worthy lessons, consider the following five.

1. Know why you preach.

John’s preaching targeted the glory of God and the edification of the saints.4 He saw preaching as a labor to fuel holiness by transforming heart affections through biblical doxology. He preached to shepherd his hearers one step closer to truth, to godliness, to Christ. John confessed that he struggled with pride in the pulpit. Yet his congregation knew that his preaching was all about God and the good of God’s people, not about himself.

2. Capture the author’s meaning.

John Calvin considered John “the greatest exegete of either the Greek or the Latin Church” and consciously emulated his practice of lectio continua. On occasion, John delivered a topical sermon, such as on a saint’s feast day or during a political crisis. But his mainstay was “continuous exposition of complete books of the Bible.”5

A medieval tradition posited that while preaching through Paul’s epistles, John received a vision in which the apostle explicated his writings to the bishop.6 We may infer from the myth that John never used Paul’s words as a springboard to say what he wished, nor did he pretend to supply some advance on Paul’s meaning. John so channeled Paul that it seemed the apostle whispered in his ear as he preached.

John’s fidelity to the biblical text is evidenced in his practice of pointing the church’s attention to a single word or phrase in order to emphasize or preserve its meaning. This habit can become tedious if overused. But strategically applied, it teaches a church how to read the Bible and to respect the divine origin of every word.

3. Explain complexities as succinctly as possible.

John’s sermons provide repeated examples of stating a debated point and then succinctly explaining his position. Quite willing to acknowledge and interact with conflicting interpretations, John was averse to losing his audience in detailed minutiae.7 He knew that lengthy, detailed theological argumentation in sermons typically creates as much confusion as clarity.

4. Use vivid illustrations and analogies.

These sermons pulsate with riveting imagery and illustrative material. These elements never overwhelm the biblical content; they only color and enliven it. For instance, during a season of political pressure on his church at Constantinople, John rallied the assembly with vivid metaphors:

On every side wolves surround you, but your flock is not destroyed. A surging sea, storms, and waves have constantly encircled this sacred ship, but those who sail on it are not engulfed by the waters. The fires of heresy threaten with their encircling flames on every side, but those who are in the midst of the furnace enjoy the blessing of a heavenly dew.8

He habitually employed such riveting language to help his congregation see and feel the point at hand.

5. Develop provocative, concrete applications.

John did not dabble in generalities or broker in indirect speech. He spoke directly to his hearers in a conversational tone, always willing to improvise as he persuaded them to honor God.9 Even in written form, one easily imagines the striking effect of his exhortations. In one moment of pointed application, for example, John contends against sexual impurity with bold specificity:

If you see a shameless woman in the theater . . . flaunting her soft sensuality, singing immoral songs, throwing her limbs about in the dance, and making shameless speeches . . . do you still dare to say that nothing human happens to you then? Long after the theater is closed . . . those images still float before your soul, their words, their conduct, their glances, their walk, their positions, their excitation, their unchaste limbs — and as for you, you go home . . . but not alone — the whore goes with you . . . in your heart, and in your conscience, and there within you she kindles the Babylonian furnace . . . in which the peace of your home, the purity of your heart, the happiness of your marriage will be burnt up.10

No theatergoing man left church that day wondering what the sermon had to do with him!

Treasure Trove for Preachers

While few preachers today will find opportunity to read all of John’s sermons, they stand as a treasure trove of instruction for anyone willing to wade into them. Taken together, they display painstaking efforts to achieve a deep understanding of the texts he preached, a loving zeal for the holiness of his flock, and a singular devotion to Christ that fueled great courage.

We aspire not to be remembered as the “Golden-Mouthed.” Yet as we consider one who was so recognized, may we also rejoice to hone the craft of proclaiming God’s word in the power of the Spirit, for the joy of his people.

Part 10 Episode 230 How much are you currently relying on the nourishing milk of the word? In this episode of Light + Truth, John Piper opens Hebrews 5:11–14 to help us understand just how much we need the Bible in order to grow to maturity.