We live in times of great cynicism about leaders. From politicians, to leaders in business and entertainment, to spiritual leaders — we find ourselves surrounded by stories of leadership failures.

Yet even in our growing suspicions, we cannot be done with the idea of leadership. It is both a practical necessity and a deep longing in the human heart. We were made for true leaders, and we ache for them, for good leaders who will bless and work for the good of their followers, rather than use them.

This angst about leaders in our times makes Psalm 72 an especially relevant word. And not just us as humans and those alive today, but also particularly at our church, as we’ll see.

Who Is This King?

Psalm 72 is a prayer for the ideal leader. It’s a 3,000-year-old prayer, cast in the terms of ancient Israel, and yet the vision is strikingly timeless, both in its ultimate fulfillment and in its personal application to all of us. We all are led, and most of us serve as leaders in some aspect of our lives, whether as father, mother, or older sibling, or perhaps at work, on a team, in the neighborhood, or for extended family.

Now, the question we might have on the face of Psalm 72 is, Who is this king, the one that the prayer was originally for? The superscript at the beginning says, “Of Solomon.” Does that mean Solomon wrote it for his son? But verse 20, at the end, says, “The prayers of David, the son of Jesse, are ended.” Does that imply this is David’s prayer for his “royal son,” Solomon?

I think that an aging David, praying for his son, may make the most sense in the full context. (Themes here belong to the same era as David’s final words in 2 Samuel 23 and Solomon’s prayer in his early reign in 1 Kings 3.)

But as I hope you expect by now, almost halfway through the book of Psalms, this psalm is going to end up being about Jesus. Sometimes it’s subtle enough that we deal with the psalm mainly as is, showing in the end how it points to Jesus. This one is not subtle.

Now, it’s not strictly messianic like Psalm 110. This really is a prayer for Solomon, and other royal sons in his line. Yet the vision is so expansive. Verses 5–7 pray for a king without end; verses 8–11, for a king without borders. The majesty of this king — for all time, over all places and nations — swells beyond what any Israelite king ever realized or even came close to.

So, as Christians, we know where this is going. David may have prayed this for his royal son, and Solomon for his. But only the one Messiah fulfills this vision — that is, only Jesus.

Four Aspects of the Ideal Leader

Still, Psalm 72 has relevance beyond Jesus, in real-life manifestations, in various imperfect measures, in those of us today who seek to walk as leaders in Christ’s steps and have his help. Every good and godly leader instantiates this vision in some real, though imperfect, ways.

So, as we look at Psalm 72, let’s highlight four aspects of this ideal leader, fulfilled perfectly and primarily in Jesus, but secondarily and imperfectly in Christian leaders of all kinds today.

1. His people flourish. (verses 15–17)

Verse 7 prays, “In his days may the righteous flourish, and peace abound.” Then verses 15–17 flesh out this flourishing:

Long may he live;     may gold of Sheba be given to him!May prayer be made for him continually,     and blessings invoked for him all the day!May there be abundance of grain in the land;     on the tops of the mountains may it wave;     may its fruit be like Lebanon;and may people blossom in the cities     like the grass of the field!May his name endure forever,     his fame continue as long as the sun!May people be blessed in him,     all nations call him blessed!

One aspect of this ideal leader is that his people flourish. How so?

For one, they have; they possess resources. They have abundance of grain and fruit (verse 16). And even “the tops of the mountains” — that is, “the most surprising of soils” (Derek Kidner, Psalms 1–72, 257) — wave with abundance. Under this ideal leader, the people prosper. He leads them in such a way that they steward the land and work it and harvest its produce, rather than squandering it. But they not only have; they give. They have gold, says verse 15, from which they give tribute to their king.

Yet they are not only a material people, having and giving wealth, but also a spiritual people. They pray for their king, making “prayer . . . for him continually” and invoking God’s “blessings . . . for him all the day!” (verse 15). This is an essential mark of a flourishing people: they are spiritual. They acknowledge and reverence God, praying to him for their leaders and everything else.

And as they pray, and God answers, and their leaders prove mature and wise, the people flourish even more, and so they multiply. The end of verse 17 says, “May people be blessed in him, all nations call him blessed!” Verses 8–11 mention desert tribes, kings from faraway coastlands, and the very ends of the earth.

Blossom in the Cities?

Verse 16 includes something that may sound strange to us in 2023: “May people blossom in the cities like the grass of the field!” You might think, “In the cities, the places from which so many seem to move away? Maybe in the prairies! Maybe near the lakes, in the country, in the small towns, on the farm, but not in the cities, at least not the Twin Cities. Get me to the Dakotas and wide-open spaces. Isn’t that now the place to blossom and flourish?”

It might be, for a short time. Yet the prayer of verse 16 gives us a glimpse of how we might think Christianly about cities, specifically the Twin Cities in which we live.

Just this week, I was in Manhattan with my young family of six, including an 8-year-old and 6-year-old. From there we took the train and stayed in downtown Philadelphia. Then on our way home, we had a flight delayed, missed our connection in Detroit, and couldn’t find room for six on a flight back to the Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport until two days later. We spent two unplanned nights in Detroit, so we’ve been on quite the city tour in the last week. We have seen the best and worst of American cities, and none of it feels especially easy for young families.

Yet here in Psalm 72, in this prayer for the future, David envisions God’s people blossoming in the cities. That is, in the cities, with all the challenges of their densities and pressures and crowdedness, God’s people blossom as humans. We were made for cities, at least eventually. And cities themselves, in all their strengths and complexities and opportunities are the blossoming of human civilization and industriousness. Cities, not prairies, are our future, both in this age and forever.

Manhattan is not becoming more rural, but our world is slowly becoming more like Manhattan. The world is growing toward cities — and good cities are God’s world in bloom. As a church in the central metro, filled with people from all around the metro, urban and suburban, we can be encouraged by this vision and prayer. Blossoming in the cities can happen, even in this age. It’s possible. Pray for it. Endure in it. And one day, for sure, it will happen under the full and final reign of the ideal leader.

Which relates to that little phrase in verse 17: “in him.” Zoom out, and you’ll see, “May people be blessed in him.” To understand the flourishing of the people, we need to know more about the leader himself.

2. His strengths serve his people’s good. (verses 1–4)

Look at the first four verses:

Give the king your justice, O God,     and your righteousness to the royal son!May he judge your people with righteousness,     and your poor with justice!Let the mountains bear prosperity for the people,     and the hills, in righteousness!May he defend the cause of the poor of the people,     give deliverance to the children of the needy,     and crush the oppressor!

There is a threefold vision here for the skills or abilities or competencies or strengths of this ideal king.

First is his ability to make the decisions that leadership requires, to make wise and skilled judgments. The king decides. Verse 1 is literally, “Give the king your judgments [plural], O God.” In other words, make him wise and discerning in the countless decisions it takes to lead well. Help him to know, in the ever-changing and ever-complex situations of life and leadership, how to navigate the moment not for his own private good but for the good of his people, to think for their good as a whole (which is often more costly to the leader). People who flourish are guided by leaders who are wise and judge justly.

Second, the king provides. We saw the mention of mountains in verse 16. So here, “mountains bear[ing] prosperity for the people” is a sign of abundance. And we can say this about the king’s leadership: he guides the people in such a way that they steward the land and reap its natural benefits in season. They at least conserve the land; they sow in the spring and gather at harvest. And so, through his able leadership, he provides for the people.

Then third, according to verse 4, he protects his people. Which has two parts: he defends the cause of the vulnerable, and he crushes the oppressors of the vulnerable. The two go together. Oppressors don’t just quietly go away when the king arrives to defend his people. Oppressors must be confronted and defeated. To protect his people, the king must crush his enemies.

Note how the ideal king not only exercises wisdom and provides for his people, but also protects them, particularly those who are truly weak and needy and poor, that is, those without the power to protect themselves. The leader leverages his strength to protect his people who are weak.

This is what Jesus does for us. Which is why Christians, from the very beginning, have been people with hearts to help the weak, the needy, the poor, the orphan, the widow, the unborn. This leads to a third aspect of this ideal leader.

3. His heart pities the needy. (verses 12–14)

There’s a flash of his heart in verse 6: “May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth!” This is very similar to how David talks in his last words, recorded in 2 Samuel 23:3–4:

When one rules justly over men,     ruling in the fear of God,he dawns on them like the morning light,     like the sun shining forth on a cloudless morning,     like rain that makes grass to sprout from the earth.

This image of life-giving rain goes back to Moses in Deuteronomy 32:2, where he says,

May my teaching drop as the rain,     my speech distill as the dew,like gentle rain upon the tender grass,     and like showers upon the herb.

Gentle rain is an insightful picture of good leadership. Think about what rain can do for crops. A gentle rain gives life, but a driving, violent rain destroys. This is what gentleness in leadership is. It is not weakness. Rather, it is strength applied to life-giving rather than life-harming ends. Gentle leaders are not weak. Rather, they are strong, and they know how to exercise that strength so as to help their people, rather than hurt them. Which begins in the leader’s heart.

Worship Won by Mercy

Verses 12–14 expand on this prayer, and (this is very important) these verses give the reason why his dominion extends so far (verses 8–11), to include the ends of the earth and all kings and nations:

For he delivers the needy when he calls,     the poor and him who has no helper.He has pity on the weak and the needy,     and saves the lives of the needy.From oppression and violence he redeems their life,     and precious is their blood in his sight.

There is only one “for” or “because” in Psalm 72 — at the beginning of verse 12. It shows verses 12–14, humanly speaking, to be the reason why this king’s dominion stretches so far, and why so many bow the knee to him.

Verse 11: “May all kings fall down before him, all nations serve him!”
Then verse 12: “For he delivers the needy.”

In other words, this ideal king wins the nations with his mercy. He may conquer hostile foes by force, but he does not win worshipers with the sword. He wins worship with his stunning mercy. He works for the joy of the needy, the weak, the poor, and in doing so, he reveals his warm heart of pity and compassion and wins others to bow the knee. As we sang this morning in the words of Isaac Watts, which were inspired by Psalm 72,

People and realms of every tonguedwell on his love with sweetest song.

This ideal king, in all this unequaled strength and wisdom and wealth, has pity on his weak people. He has compassion for the needy. He is sympathetic to the desperate, the humble, those who own their need of rescue. And this heart of mercy wins the nations.

Crush the Oppressor?

What about the tension between verses 4 and 14?

Verse 14 says he redeems them “from oppression and violence.”
Verse 4 says he “crush[es] the oppressor” of his people.

Now we’re not asking about his gentleness with his people, but his strength in protecting them. And when he does so, does he oppose violence or use it? “Crush the oppressor” is strong language. It sure sounds violent.

The answer is at least this: The way he opposes violence, of necessity, is by crushing the oppressors. Crushing a known oppressor is very different than oppressing with violence. Jesus is never the oppressor; he crushes the oppressors, and in a very unexpected way.

And that leads to a final aspect of this ideal leader.

4. His God gets glory. (verses 18–19)

It’s amazing that Psalm 72 ends the way it does. The glory of the king in verse 17 — his name, his fame — gives way to the glory of his God in verses 18–19:

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,     who alone does wondrous things.Blessed be his glorious name forever;     may the whole earth be filled with his glory!Amen and Amen!

As wondrous as this ideal leader is in his wise decisions and gracious provisions and strong protection of his people and stunning mercy, verse 18 says that “[God] alone does wondrous things.” In other words, the wondrous works of this good, godly leader are wondrous works of God.

Not only does the king’s name and fame endure forever, but also God’s “glorious name” (verse 19) will be praised forever, in the whole earth. Without end and without limit. No expiration and no borders.

Note that Psalm 72 doesn’t say that God gets the glory and not the king. Oh, the king gets glory, honor, and praise indeed: gifts of gold, cries of “Long live the king!” an enduring name, ongoing fame — yet all that in complement to, not competition with, the glory of his God. You might even hear Philippians 2:9–11:

God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Which leads to two particular words of hope for us as a church in this season.

Our Church, Right Now

The first word concerns this perfect leader, the fulfillment of Psalm 72, Christ himself. He is reigning now. He died, he rose, he ascended, he took his seat at the Father’s right hand, he is alive, and we have him now.

The leader we long for, the leader this psalm prays for — we have him now. The great leader has come, and is on the throne, and has sent his Spirit. Even now, he has spoken and still speaks. He builds his church, he decides for us, he guides us, he leads us, and he will judge justly and right every wrong. As Christians, we have the leader our souls long for, though we can be so quick to forget it.

For our first five years as a church, we had no pastoral transitions. But in the last three years, we have had pastors move to Wisconsin, to Washington State, to Missouri, to Florida, to Idaho. That’s no condemnation. People move. They didn’t leave the faith; they only left the state. Undershepherds will come and go; Jesus will not. The undershepherds are not the chief Shepherd of the church. Jesus is, and he is the one true, perfect, immovable leader.

The second word of hope concerns your imperfect leaders who remain — and your own imperfections in your various callings of leadership. This is such good news: the chief Shepherd changes us as part of his rescue of the weak and needy. He brings this vision, this prayer of Psalm 72, to life in real measures in leaders today.

So pray for it, and expect it, in your pastors. And pray for it, and seek to be it, in your various callings of leadership. He changes people. No matter what they say, change is possible. Don’t give up on anyone, including yourself. And in your leadership disappointments — with yourself and with other leaders — look through and beyond to the true King.

In him, we remember that, and admit that, we are not the ideal leader, and we can repent like it. And in Jesus, we not only admit that we are not him, but we can even take joy in admitting it, because he’s the kind of king who has pity on those who know themselves weak and needy. He came to call sinners, not the righteous.

Whether father or mother, executive or manager, block leader or team captain, pastor or deacon, we can lay aside the pretense of perfection. We can own our neediness and weakness and failures, not to mope about them or wallow in them, but to know the strength and mercy of our King. He is good. He is generous. He is compassionate. He is wide-hearted. We come to his Table.

Receive Abundant Mercy

Along with blossoming in the cities, verse 16 mentions an abundance of grain and fruit — which is how we get bread and wine. Not only does the ideal leader, King Jesus, exercise wisdom and provide for and protect his people, but it is only possible through his self-giving at the cross.

He shed his own blood to show the preciousness of the life of his needy, weak people. His providing an abundance of grain and fruit, including the bread and cup of this Table, is not cheap, but costly, at the price of his own blood.

And in that very moment when he decisively crushed Satan, the oppressor of his people, he showed his people his mercy. The cross is the supreme manifestation of regal mercy. It is the place where the King triumphs, the ground of all kings and nations falling down before him. And his cross purchases not merely the pardon of his people but our blossoming — even in the Cities.

It’s a familiar feeling as the day ends. I kiss my kids goodnight, pray for them, sing them a song, and then walk out of their rooms. I replay the day: the frustrated response to their behavior, the time spent on my phone instead of in conversation, the way I brushed them aside instead of engaging in a game with them, the outburst of anger. It all weighs on me, and I can feel undone. The lost moments of the day seem to drown out any moments of faithfulness that occurred. Will they remember these failures? Have I scarred them? Is God unhappy with me?

Moms are often plagued with guilt and regret. Sometimes the guilt is legitimate because we have sinned against our kids. Sometimes it’s projected on us by our own unbiblical expectations. Either way, where can we go with our mom-guilt and regret?

The Psalms are a faithful guide in our struggle. They are filled with a myriad of emotions, from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. The Psalms provide insight into how biblical characters experienced specific events. In doing so, they give us a window into the human soul, showing us that God cares about every part of our life experience. He cares about the details of the narrative, and he gives us language for responding to the story we find ourselves in, including our moments of deep regret.

Deal with Regret Like David

Life in a broken world means moms will experience regret. In Psalm 51, David is filled with regret over the murder of Uriah and his sexual sin with Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba. In other words, his regret is legitimate, not projected. He has sinned against God and others.

The most important step David takes when he feels regret is his first step toward God. We have a tendency to pull away from God when we sin. We can feel too shameful to come before a holy God. But this holy God is also merciful and gracious (Psalm 145:8). He delights to save his wayward children, if only they would come to him. Running away from him when we feel regret only leads to more regret. Running to him when we feel regret leads to life.

After coming before our Lord, we have to get honest. We’ve sinned, and we need help. David also acknowledges his sin. He doesn’t shy away from saying he has sinned, as he makes a passionate plea for God to cleanse him and make him new (Psalm 51:7–12). Without this request for forgiveness and cleansing, our sin will continue to weigh us down (Psalm 32:3–4).

And so, we come, with sorrow in our hearts, asking a holy God to forgive our sins. Because of Christ, he does so freely and liberally. We don’t have to stay in our sin and regret. We can come boldly to the throne of God’s grace and find help for our time of need (Hebrews 4:16). We can acknowledge our sin, look to the Savior who paid for that sin, and move on.

Two Types of Guilt

When we sin, we have an advocate in Jesus and a model for confession in David. But what do moms do with the regret that may not be owing to sin? What about feeling like we just didn’t measure up, or feeling like we didn’t do enough for our kids?

If we’ve truly sinned, then we can pinpoint that sin in the Bible. The outburst of anger, the unkind word, the selfish response, idolizing our children — these are all sinful choices, and Scripture speaks to them plainly (Ephesians 4:31–32; Philippians 2:3–4). Of course, sometimes we can’t tell if what we did was sinful or just owing to our human limitations. Sometimes what feels selfish is actually us acknowledging we need a nap. Sometimes what feels unkind is really just administering discipline so that our kids understand authority and boundaries.

Even when we can’t tell the difference between true sin and “feeling bad,” however, the answer is still the same: we have an advocate before the Father (1 John 2:1). Whether we’ve sinned or just feel like we could have done better, our standing before Jesus is immovable.

Psalm 131 helps to remind me of that standing place. There are realities too wonderful for me to grasp (verse 1); when I don’t understand the path to walk as a mom, I can quiet my soul and trust that God is holding all things together (verse 2). Just as a weaned child learns to trust where her next meal comes from, so I can learn to trust that my kids are all right. Any given day won’t ruin them. God ultimately has them, like he has me.

Finished and Free

Many moms have a tendency to want to do everything right. We want to know all the rules so that we can execute the task perfectly. We don’t want to disappoint people. Which means we need to keep something in mind through this entire process: our identity is secure.

If you’re trusting in Christ, he has already finished the work for you. Any amount of striving you do now is from faith, in delightful obedience to him, not out of a need to earn anything. Of course, he calls us to obey and walk according to his word — but we can’t add or take away from what Christ has already done for us. When we sin, it’s paid for by Jesus. When we disappoint people, that does not necessarily mean God is disappointed. When we make a mistake, God doesn’t condemn us. When we have regret, we have a path forward.

Our choices don’t have to shame us. We can walk in freedom before the Lord, knowing that in Christ we have everything — including the Holy Spirit, who gives us increasing wisdom to know what is sin and what is not.

We often say in our home, “Tomorrow there are new mercies and new opportunities to obey.” If you sin today, tomorrow is holding new mercies for you (Lamentations 3:22–23). If you get to the end of the day and wish you had done more, tomorrow is holding new mercies for you.

Regret doesn’t have the final word in your life — the resurrected Christ does. And because he said, “It is finished” (John 19:30), you can walk in newness of life today and every day after.

Part 4 Episode 126 Sacrificial giving can be scary, so how can we give generously without succumbing to fear? In this episode of Light + Truth, John Piper looks to the wonderful promises of Luke 12:13–34 to answer that pivotal question.

Audio Transcript

Welcome back. This new week on the podcast starts off by wrapping up a bundle of recent apologetics questions on the person and work of Christ. We recently looked at six reasons why Jesus had to leave Earth after Easter. Imagine life on earth if Christ were still here with us! He’s not; why not? That was APJ 1978. Then we looked at the question, Why didn’t Jesus have to pay eternally for our sins? Isn’t that the cost — eternal judgment? So, why was his suffering cut so short? That was APJ 1979. And then we looked at the question, Even if the Christian faith is untrue — if the cross and resurrection didn’t happen — aren’t Christians still happier than non-Christians in this life? Don’t our present life priorities make for a more fulfilling experience of this life than the non-Christian’s experience, seeking joy in the world — even if we are wrong? That was APJ 1977.

Related to that one comes today’s question: Why don’t we have more artifacts, more archaeology, or even a more diversified record of historical documents to corroborate the death and resurrection of Christ? Shouldn’t we have more? The question is from a listener named Terri. “Pastor John, hello to you. My question for you is why, in this age, it remains so easy for non-believers to refute the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. If God controls everything, why is the existence of Jesus, and his crucifixion, not made more undeniable? People can so easily say that the events of the Bible are not real. Why did God not orchestrate it so that there were more witnesses, more archaeological evidence, more handwritten accounts? Why did he seem to leave so much room for doubt?” Pastor John, how would you respond to Terri?

I have two main responses to this question. The first is that, historically speaking, the text of the New Testament — the Greek text of the New Testament, the written accounts of first-century witnesses to Christ — is spectacularly reliable. That’s number one. I’ll come back to it and explain why in a minute.

Second, the obstacles that hinder warranted belief — justifiable belief in the truth of those first-century testimonies — are the same obstacles that people experienced who were looking Jesus right in the face and did not believe, in spite of all his signs. In other words, the root problem, today and then, is not and was not the absence of evidence.

Spectacularly Reliable

Now, why do I say that the New Testament accounts of the first-century Christian witnesses are spectacularly reliable? Terri asks, “Why did God not provide more handwritten accounts?” Now, I wonder if people who ask that have any idea what they are saying. Caesar’s Gallic Wars was written about 50 BC, and there are ten surviving manuscripts. Livy’s History of Rome has twenty surviving manuscripts. Tacitus’s Histories and Annals — written about AD 100 — has two manuscripts. Thucydides’s History — which was written about 400 BC — has eight manuscripts. And most scholars of such sources go about their work with confidence that they are in touch with the original witnesses.

Now, according to the Institute of New Testament Textual Research in Münster, Germany, there are 5,800 manuscripts or fragments of manuscripts of the New Testament. Not two, not ten, not twenty, not eight. It is a spectacular wealth of handwritten accounts of what was originally written, and hundreds of them are older than anything we have for those secular histories.

The science of textual criticism that handles these thousands of manuscripts is able to compare those manuscripts and determine with astonishing accuracy what the original manuscripts actually said. Here’s F.F. Bruce — he was from the previous generation; he was alive when I was studying as a seminary student. He wrote this:

If the great number of manuscripts increases the number of scribal errors [copying errors as you go from one copy to the next], it increases proportionately the means of correcting such errors so that the margin of doubt left in the process of recovering the exact original wording is, in truth, remarkably small. (14)

Now, that comes from The New Testament Documents: Are They Reliable? which you can still get at Amazon. I recommend it. I also recommend Paul Wegner’s A Student’s Guide to Textual Criticism of the Bible, and Craig Blomberg’s The Historical Reliability of the Gospels.

Crucified in History

The remarkable fact is that most historical scholars today — liberal or conservative — believe that the Greek texts that we have in the New Testament are really what the authors wrote near the time when the events actually happened.

“The problem of unbelief is not mainly a lack of evidence, but a deep heart resistance to God and his will.”

Which also means, for example, that when your Muslim friends tell you that the New Testament we have is not the New Testament that was originally written, but a much later creation of the church, you need to know there is zero — I’m talking zero — historical evidence for that claim. They are not making a historically justifiable statement. It is demanded by their faith — not by historical evidence — because they don’t want anyone to think Jesus was actually crucified.

But in fact, the crucifixion of Jesus is one of the most historically certain events of the first century. The view that it didn’t happen is highly eccentric from a historical standpoint.

Root Obstacle to Belief

Let me turn now to my second response, which I think is probably existentially the most significant part of Terri’s question. The obstacles that hinder justified belief in the truth of these testimonies today are the same set of obstacles that people experienced who were looking at Jesus in his own day — right in the face, flesh to flesh, eye to eye — and did not believe. In other words, the root problem is not the absence of evidence.

You remember the story of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16:19–31 — the rich man and the poor man. Lazarus died. Lazarus went to heaven in Abraham’s bosom, and the rich man went to torment. In the torment, he says across this chasm to Abraham,

“I beg you, father, to send [Lazarus] to my father’s house — for I have five brothers — so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.” But Abraham said, “They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.” And he said, “No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead [in other words, if there’s enough evidence; if there’s a sign], they will repent.” [Abraham] said to him, “If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.” (Luke 16:27–31)

Now, that’s amazing. What it means is that the same inner condition of heart that keeps a person from believing the Old Testament prophets also keeps him from submitting to the evidence of actually seeing someone rise from the dead. That was true then, and it’s true today.

Against the Evidence

You remember the other Lazarus (remember there are two Lazaruses in the New Testament). Jesus raised this Lazarus from the dead. He was dead for four days, and Jesus raised him from the dead to give a sign that people would believe and glorify God. When that miracle happened, some believed — in fact, it says “many . . . believed” in John 11:45. But others went and told the Pharisees. Their response was that they plotted to kill Jesus, and they plotted to kill Lazarus to get rid of the evidence (John 11:57; 12:10).

More than once, people demanded a sign from Jesus even after he had done so many compelling signs already. And here’s what Jesus said to them in John 10:24–27:

The Jews gathered around him and said, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered them, “I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name bear witness about me, but you do not believe because you are not among my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”

Here’s what Jesus said to explain that — how a person could come to see Jesus as true. He said in John 7:17, “If anyone’s will is to do God’s will, he will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own authority.”

Tell and Pray

The problem of unbelief is not mainly a lack of evidence, but a deep heart resistance to God and his will. Changing that heart condition is a great work of God. We are utterly dependent on it in our evangelism. So, let’s not be deterred in our evangelism by anyone who says there’s not enough evidence to justify belief in Jesus. There is enough evidence. No one spoke like this man. The self-authenticating glory of God shines in the gospel of Christ.

So, let’s tell the good news. Tell it everywhere. Tell it all the time. Tell it as compellingly as we possibly can. And then let’s pray. Let’s pray earnestly — all the more earnestly — that God would open the eyes of the blind.

During the 24 years I served in pastoral ministry, I saw a continual stream of advertisements about how to grow a bigger church. In nearly 50 years of preaching and teaching, I have heard dozens of messages on evangelism, missions, and church growth. And yet I could probably count on one hand the number of times one of these ads or messages mentioned the only verse in the Bible that essentially says, “Do this, and you will see people saved.”

The message of this verse was so important to the apostle Paul that when he specifically addresses elders in the New Testament, he communicates its essence. This is also the only verse in the Bible (that I can recall) that gives the same exhortation three times. Think it’s important?

What is the verse? First Timothy 4:16,

Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers.

For 28 years, I have turned to this text every semester on the last day of class. In the compact space of two short sentences are three imperatives and two promises. We’ll begin with the imperatives before turning to the promises.

1. ‘Keep a close watch on yourself.’

How does a minister “keep a close watch” on himself? By cultivating faithfulness to and avoiding the erosion of his devotion to Christ. How does he do this? By obedience to a command earlier in this chapter: “Train yourself for godliness” (1 Timothy 4:7). And how does he do this? By consistently and wholeheartedly practicing the biblical spiritual disciplines, especially the disciplines related to the word of God and prayer, for these are the God-given means of godliness.

Godliness — a Bible word essentially synonymous with Christlikeness, holiness, and sanctification — is cultivated by the personal and interpersonal spiritual disciplines, both positively (vivification) and negatively (mortification). In other words, these biblical habits are the means through which the Holy Spirit works to help us experience God and grow in grace as well as to defeat sin.

Remember that this command was first given to a minister (Timothy) and then by extension to all Christians. So, do not think, pastor, that while your people will become more godly by practicing the spiritual disciplines, you will become more Christlike simply by being in the ministry. The temptations and pressures of the ministry will conspire to make you more ungodly if you do not train yourself for godliness. Mentally remove everything in your life that’s related to ministry. With what is left, could it be said that you are growing more Christlike?

I strongly urge you to read Richard Baxter’s treatment of 1 Timothy 4:16 — especially his eight reasons why you need to keep a close watch on yourself — in his pastoral classic, The Reformed Pastor. Particularly note his third reason: you are exposed to greater temptations than others. Satan is not stupid. He knows that if he can make you fall, it will have a more damaging effect on the church than if he fells the guy who comes once a month and sits in the back row.

Unless a pastor — new or old — devotes himself to the scriptural means of godliness, he will cease to be a godly man. And what healthy church wants a pastor who isn’t godly?

2. ‘Keep a close watch on the teaching.’

In this pastoral imperative, “the teaching” refers to doctrine — to “the teaching” found in “the whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27). Put another way, “Study theology, pastor!”

Even to the end of his life, Paul was an example of diligent study. Despite his thorough knowledge of the Scriptures and all he had seen and experienced as an apostle, he pled with Timothy in the final chapter of his last inspired letter, “When you come, bring . . . the books, and above all the parchments” (2 Timothy 4:13). If there were one person who did not need to study theology any further, wouldn’t you think it was Paul? And if there was one time he didn’t need to keep a close watch on his teaching, wouldn’t you think it would be just before he died? But he knew that as long as his mind was working, there was nothing better to put into it than the truth of God’s word.

It has been my observation over decades that few ministers persist in studying theology. Many stop reading books, listening to podcasts, or attending conferences designed to sharpen their theological thinking and deepen their doctrinal understanding. What has resulted from this? The words of David Wells in his 1994 book No Place for Truth are even more true today: “We now have less biblical fidelity, less interest in truth, less seriousness, less depth, and less capacity to speak the Word of God to our own generation in a way that offers an alternative to what it already thinks” (12). In times that are much more complex than 30 years ago, the church and its leaders need more theology, not less.

Churches do not rise in godliness and biblical maturity above the level of their pastor’s piety and theology.

3. ‘Persist in this.’

In other words, “persist in keeping a close watch on yourself and on the teaching.” Pastor, persevere to the end of your days in keeping a close watch on both your piety and your theology. You will never reach a level of maturity or a time in your life when you no longer need this vigilance.

Again, when Paul writes or speaks specifically to ministers, he basically repeats what he says here to Timothy. To the elders of the Ephesian church, he says, “Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock” (Acts 20:28). When he says, “and to all the flock,” we know Paul is urging them to “Keep a close watch on . . . the teaching,” because in the very next verses he warns the elders that false teachers will soon come, “not sparing the flock” — men who will “draw away the disciples after them” (verses 29–30).

To Titus, the other recipient of a Pastoral Epistle, Paul reiterates, “Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works [that is, piety], and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame” (Titus 2:7–8). His primary concern for pastors remains the same: “yourself and the teaching.” Life and doctrine. Heart and head. Fire and light. Spirit and truth. Piety and theology.

Most of us tend to lean toward one or the other, toward piety or theology. What is your own tendency? Be aware of that, and take pains to “watch” that your pursuit of one does not allow the other to wither.

And beware of the temptation to believe that after enough ministerial experience you will outgrow your need for watchfulness. I’ve been in the ministry for nearly half a century, and I need to persist in watching now as much as ever.

Promises God Makes to Pastors

First, “you will save yourself.” It’s safe to assume that Paul believed Timothy was saved, so it’s likely the apostle is reminding Timothy that a truly Christian pastor must “keep a close watch on [himself] and on the teaching” if he hopes for assurance of his final salvation. But in pursuing that assurance, pastor, remember that neither a consistent devotional life nor orthodox theology will save you. The Pharisees were pretty good at both. Not even a lifetime of faithful service in pastoral ministry will save you. Even pastors are saved by the work of Christ alone.

And just like any other Christian, pastors also need to heed the command of 2 Corinthians 13:5, “Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith.” But also like any other Christian, any pastor who spends his entire life sincerely pursuing Christ through the biblical disciplines and the truth of God in Scripture exhibits solid indications that he is saved.

Second, “you will save your hearers.” Alongside the Spirit-empowered aspect of salvation, this promise is also very reasonable. For example, who is more likely to make converts to the way of life and teaching of Gandhi? Of course, it will be someone who lives like Gandhi and teaches what Gandhi taught. In the same way, who is more likely to see people become disciples of Jesus than a man who lives like Jesus and teaches what Jesus taught?

Notice, he doesn’t promise you will see as many saved as you want, nor even that you will always know when people are saved, but he does say your ministry will result in true conversions. And I’d rather see ten people truly converted than a hundred who say they are but are not. Wouldn’t you?

Your First Calling

The “methods” of 1 Timothy 4:16 were the heart of Paul’s evangelistic, missionary, and church-growth strategies. To be a godly man — living and acting like Jesus — is essential to leading people to Jesus. Knowing and proclaiming the doctrines of Christ and salvation — that is, the gospel — is the means by which God saves people (Romans 1:16). And he promises in this verse that if you persist in doing these things, you will see people come to Christ.

Pastor, you are called first and foremost to be a man of God. Therefore, “Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this.”

ABSTRACT: In a day when some evangelical seminaries no longer require the original languages, and with all the pressures of pastoral ministry, students and pastors may wonder whether they should bother learning (and keeping up) Greek and Hebrew. For good reasons, however, many of the most influential, spiritually powerful Christian leaders have prized the biblical languages. They knew that the Hebrew and Greek manuscripts, rather than translations, formed the inerrant word of God. They knew that faithful and fresh teaching relied on firsthand knowledge of the original text. And they knew that the biblical languages, though difficult to learn, can save much time and effort in the end.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Robert Plummer, Collin and Evelyn Aikman Professor of Biblical Studies at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, to offer reasons for learning Greek and Hebrew.

As a recent semester was about to begin, an article appeared in my social media feed. The president of a major evangelical seminary had written on, “Is It a Waste of Time for Seminary Students (and Pastors) to Learn the Biblical Languages?”1 It is not his response but the fact that he had to ask this question in the first place that irks me.

Do we ever see seminary presidents write on, “Is It a Waste of Time for Seminary Students to Learn Systematic Theology?” or “Is It a Waste of Time for Seminary Students to Learn Preaching?” What about the biblical languages seems to require a public apology for their inclusion in a seminary’s curriculum?

Regardless of what brought us here, the truth is that many people do question the value of the biblical languages for ministerial training, and I contend that the biblical languages are absolutely necessary. In what follows, I will offer three reasons the original languages are essential for ministerial training, followed by a consideration of three challenges in our day.2

So then, why are the biblical languages essential?

1. Because We Value the Word of God

I do not hesitate to affirm an English Bible as the inerrant word of God. In colloquial usage, no further clarification is needed. We must admit, however, that English Bible translations differ. In 1 John 1:1, the NET Bible translators have rendered the final five Greek words (peri tou logou tēs zōēs) with a parenthetical remark in English: “(concerning the word of life).” In the same translation, “word” is not capitalized, indicating the apostle John is referring to the gospel message as “the word of life.” On the other hand, the translators of the New Living Translation make a new sentence of the five Greek words (peri tou logou tēs zōēs) and capitalize “Word,” resulting in, “He is the Word of life.”

So, does 1 John 1:1 refer to Jesus as the incarnate Logos, or does it refer to the gospel message received by the congregation? One could argue that John intends some level of ambiguity in his original expression, encapsulating the meanings in both the NET Bible and the New Living Translation, but the English translations do not include such ambiguity. They land on distinct and different interpretations. We are forced to admit that at least one translation is wrong or deficient.

In the end, we do not affirm that the particular English words of an English Bible are breathed out by the Holy Spirit. We do make that affirmation, however, of the underlying Greek and Hebrew. Article 10 of the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy is correct to affirm the inerrancy and complete truthfulness of the actual Greek and Hebrew words that the apostles and prophets wrote.

The famous New Testament scholar A.T. Robertson (1863–1934) was no doubt provocative when he said,

The real New Testament is the Greek New Testament. The English is simply a translation of the New Testament, not the actual New Testament. It is good that the New Testament has been translated into so many languages. The fact that it was written in the koine, the universal language of the time, rather than in one of the earlier Greek dialects, makes it easier to render into modern tongues. But there is much that cannot be translated. It is not possible to reproduce the delicate turns of thought, the nuances of language, in translation. The freshness of the strawberry cannot be preserved in any extract.3

Modern English Bibles go through periodic revisions. The wording in them is changed. Is this not an implicit acknowledgment that, though the translations are accurate, changes must be made so that they read more accurately?

God inspired the underlying Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic words of Scripture, and if the Scripture is the ultimate authority for our lives and ministries, when disagreements happen, we must ultimately appeal to those Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic grammatical constructions. In his first convocation address at Westminster Theological Seminary in 1929, J. Gresham Machen declared,

If you are to tell what the Bible does say, you must be able to read the Bible for yourself. And you cannot read the Bible for yourself unless you know the languages in which it was written. . . . In his mysterious wisdom [God] gave [his Word] to us in Hebrew and Greek. Hence if we want to know the Scriptures, to the study of Greek and Hebrew we must go.4

Because we value the breathed-out, inerrant word of God as the final authority for our Christian beliefs and practices, ministerial students must be students of the original languages.

2. Because We Value Faithful and Fresh Teaching

Through my teaching role in the online platform The Daily Dose of Greek, I receive emails from people of many different Christian backgrounds. Some time ago, I received a note from a Methodist minister who lamented that many of his fellow Methodist pastors not only were not preparing sermons from the Greek New Testament but were preaching other people’s sermons as their own (apparently not doing any sermon preparation at all!). This Methodist pastor told me that what keeps his teaching fresh, original, and engaging is the work of preparing weekly messages from the Greek New Testament and Hebrew Old Testament.

In Jeremiah 23:29, God says, “Is not my word like fire . . . and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?” (NIV). You cannot enter the blinding forge of God’s word and fail to emerge with a fresh, timely, and faithful message.

When people come to your house to eat, do you reheat yesterday’s leftovers to serve them? Or worse, do you go to the neighbor’s house and ask them for their leftovers? Perhaps you sprinkle a bit of cheese on top first to freshen them up? John Piper warns us, “Secondhand food will not sustain and deepen our people’s faith and holiness. . . . What is more important and more deeply practical for the pastoral office than advancing in Greek and Hebrew exegesis by which we mine God’s treasures?”5

In his book Clash of Visions, Robert Yarborough explores the actual handwritten notes of Martin Luther on the text of Romans.6 In doing so, it becomes clear that Luther did not get his ideas on righteousness by listening to a podcast or looking up the word in Gregg Allison’s Historical Theology. His understanding of God’s gift of righteousness in Christ to wicked sinners exploded out of Romans and the Psalms as he studied the biblical texts in the original languages. Luther speaks of this experience himself:

Although the Faith and the Gospel may be proclaimed by preachers without the knowledge of languages, the preaching will be feeble and ineffective. But where the languages are studied, the proclamation will be fresh and powerful, the Scriptures will be searched, and the Faith will be constantly rediscovered through ever new words and deeds.7

3. Because We Have Limited Time

This third point may initially seem counterintuitive. If we have limited time, shouldn’t we just use an English translation and homiletical helps?

Consider a parable: If you must chop a stack of kindling, is it a waste of time to pause and first sharpen your axe? A.T. Robertson observed, “If theological education will increase your power for Christ, is it not your duty to gain that added power? . . . Never say you are losing time by going to school. You are saving time, buying it up for the future and storing it away. Time used in storing power is not lost.”8

As I work through biblical texts in classes, I’m always struck by how many excellent questions students ask that are not addressed by commentaries. Even very good commentators neglect pivotal questions. I tell students, “Do you not realize that the people who write these commentaries are flawed and shortsighted persons like you? Perhaps the commentator did not notice the insight that you are raising, or maybe he had a similar question to what you are asking, but not knowing the answer, he avoided the matter completely in his writing. Only by engaging the inspired text of Scripture for yourself do you consistently have access to the most central questions and the data that answers those questions.” Hence, Scott Hafemann once noted, “One hour in the text [of the original languages] is worth more than ten hours in the secondary literature.”9

Without a doubt, commentaries can be very helpful in wrestling through the meaning and implications of a biblical text. And with limited time, pastors want to be able to use and understand the best commentaries on the passages they are preaching. Nevertheless, the best commentaries often track closely to the Hebrew and Greek text, and without a working knowledge of the biblical languages, the minister is shut out from the most helpful tools.

My grandmother used to tell the grandchildren that when my father was a young boy learning to read, if he didn’t know a word or could not pronounce it, he would just say “steamboat” and keep reading. I pulled off my shelf a very helpful technical commentary on Romans by John Harvey. I wondered what it would be like to try to read it without a knowledge of Greek grammar. Perhaps it would be like replacing every Greek or grammatical term with the word “steamboat.” Consider an excerpt from his comment on Romans 3:21:

The steamboat steamboat could be steamboat, but it is more likely steamboat, modifying steamboat steamboat. The present tense is steamboat; steamboat + steamboat indicates the steamboat of the simple steamboat. The steamboat with steamboat is steamboat; the steamboat with steamboat is steamboat. “Law and Prophets” occurs nowhere else in Paul. See Longenecker for Jewish background on the phrase. “Prophets” is a steamboat for their writings.10

A minister untrained in Greek and Hebrew is at a significant disadvantage for reading and understanding the best resources. Philip Melanchthon once said that without the biblical languages, we will be “silent persons” as theologians.11 We might add that without the biblical languages, we are deaf and blind theologians too, unable to benefit from the insights of the church’s best scholars and teachers.

One semester, after overseeing a final exam in Greek Syntax and Exegesis, I ran into a female student from the class. She said to me (I paraphrase), “You know, Dr. Plummer, I’ll never be a Greek scholar, but after two semesters of Greek, I think I can detect both sound and unsound argumentation in the commentaries.” To which I say, “Well done, good and faithful student.”

Time is limited. A working knowledge of Greek and Hebrew saves time by connecting the minister directly with the text and directly with the best resources.

We now turn to consider three specific challenges we face in the teaching of biblical languages to the next generation of Christian ministers.

Challenge 1: Bad Models

Unfortunately, many students, pastors, and professors have been turned off to the value of Greek and Hebrew by sitting under the preaching and teaching of those who have used the languages poorly. A colleague of mine, Tim Beougher, related to me this saying of Charles Spurgeon: “Our Lord was crucified under a sign written in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and since then, many congregations have been crucified weekly by their pastors under those same languages.”

Sadly, we could all recount examples of suffering under misguided grammatical reflections — etymological fallacies, illegitimate totality transfers, and so on. We do not have the time to explore such exegetical fallacies in detail,12 but one can understand why many people question the value of the biblical languages if they have not seen them used rightly.

I regularly appeal to my students that explicit references to Greek and Hebrew should be quite rare in their sermons. As a general rule, Greek is like underwear: it should provide support but not be visible.

For example, in 1 John 1:5, we read, ho theos phōs estin kai skotia en autō ouk estin oudemia. “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” Now, even a superficial reading of the Greek quickly notes a double negative — with both the words ouk and oudemia employed. We might translate the sentence woodenly, “God is light and none darkness is not him.” It would be a misstep, in my opinion, for the pastor to offer grammatical commentary on double negatives in Koine Greek or to even mention the words ouk and oudemia. Better to let the strength of this assertion infect the preacher’s passion, so that he says something like, “God is light — completely holy — there is not the tiniest particle of darkness or sin in him at all!”

As a preacher, what a wonderful feeling to stand on the solid ground of the text’s actual assertions and structure. Otherwise, you might end up like the pastor whose notes were discovered, and alongside the margin of the manuscript at one place were scribbled the words, “Weak point. Yell loud here.”

Challenge 2: Distractions and Laziness

We may think distractions and laziness are modern problems, but nearly one hundred years ago, A.T. Robertson wrote, “The chief reason why preachers do not get and do not keep up a fair and needful knowledge of the Greek New Testament is nothing less than carelessness, and even laziness in many cases.”13

How many hours per week does the average seminary student or professor or pastor spend on social media, Netflix, sports, or the news? Perhaps we say that we wish we had more time to study, more time to use or revive our knowledge of the biblical languages, but what we actually do shows what we want to do.14

We are weak creatures who find ourselves easily addicted to technology and entertainment. If we are not going to fall into a new dark age of ignorance and passivity, we need Spirit-empowered habits and discipline. Ben Merkle and I have tried to provide practical solutions to these problems in our book Greek for Life: Strategies for Learning, Retaining, and Reviving New Testament Greek (Baker, 2017). And there’s a companion volume for Hebrew: Hebrew for Life (Baker, 2020), with Adam Howell as the lead author.

Challenge 3: The Widespread Erosion of Language Skills

It is difficult to prioritize biblical-language instruction when professors and pastors whom students admire have not learned Greek and Hebrew or have not retained their skills.

If I may speak bluntly, I am sure that among the readership of this essay there are multiple people who regret either not learning the biblical languages or letting their skills seriously atrophy. Perhaps, if you close your eyes for a moment, you can imagine yourself staring out over a valley of dry linguistic bones, and you hear a voice say, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I’m happy to tell you that they can. I’ve seen so many people successfully revive their knowledge of Greek. It has never been easier. We live in an unparalleled moment of world history — it has never been easier to learn, revive, or progress in your ability to read the Scriptures in the original languages!15

Let me tell you the story of one of my former colleagues, Dr. Bill Cutrer. Bill graduated from Dallas Theological Seminary and had a solid foundation in Greek but had allowed his skills to erode over time. It was around the year 2010, back in the day when Southern Seminary mailed out DVDs to online students. Bill checked out two sets for himself and worked through two Masters-level courses. Then he sat in an on-campus course, the Greek exegesis of the epistle of James.

Bill passed away suddenly on a bike ride in 2013. I like to imagine him instantly transported into the presence of God, and I know there was no hesitation as he joined with the heavenly chorus saying, hagios hagios hagios kyrios ho theos ho pantokratōr ho ēn kai ho ōn kai ho erchomenos: “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” (Revelation 4:8).

‘At the Classroom Door’

In the early 1900s, one of the most respected Greek grammarians in the world was James Hope Moulton (1863–1917). Moulton’s devotion to the text of Scripture and the God who inspired that Scripture drove him to missionary service in India. After some time of missionary work, as he was journeying home to his native Great Britain in April 1917 (in the midst of WWI), his ship was torpedoed by a German submarine. Moulton survived for several days on a lifeboat but finally passed away and was buried at sea.

I want to share with you a poem Moulton wrote in Bangalore, India, on February 21, 1917, just a few weeks before he died. Titled, “At the Classroom Door,” it’s a prayer in poetic form.

Lord, at Thy word opens yon door, invitingTeacher and taught to feast this hour with Thee;Opens a Book where God in human writingThinks His deep thoughts, and dead tongues live for me.

Too dread the task, too great the duty calling,Too heavy far the weight is laid on me!Oh, if mine own thought should on Thy words fallingMar the great message, and men hear not Thee!

Give me Thy voice to speak, Thine ear to listen,Give me Thy mind to grasp Thy mystery;So shall my heart throb, and my glad eyes glisten,Rapt with the wonders Thou dost show to me.16

For some saints, in some seasons, the spiritual darkness can rest so thick, and last so long, that normal patterns of obedience begin to feel futile.

We’ve read and prayed and fought temptation, for weeks or months or maybe years. But now, perhaps, we wonder what’s the point. Why read when little changes? Why pray when God seems silent? Why obey in the lonely dark when no one seems to see or care? The days have been sunless for so long; why live as if the sky will soon turn bright?

Not all of God’s people have known such seasons. But for those who have, or will, God has not left us friendless. Here in the dark, a brother walks before us, his day far blacker than ours, his obedience a torch on the road ahead.

His story takes place on Good Friday, dark Friday, dead Friday. For some time, he had let his hope take flight, daring to believe he had seen, in Jesus, his own Messiah’s face. But then Friday came, and he watched that face drain into gray; he saw his Lord hang limp upon the cross. And somehow, someway, he did not flee. He did not fall away. He did not sink into despair.

Instead, Joseph of Arimathea “took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus” (Mark 15:43). Three nails and a spear had snuffed out his sun. And without any light to guide him, Joseph still obeyed.

Joseph’s Unlikely Obedience

In this simple account of Jesus’s burial, we find a most unlikely obedience.

First, Joseph was not one of the twelve disciples, whom we might expect to see at such a moment. Until now, in fact, he had followed Jesus “secretly” (John 19:38). “A respected member of the council” (Mark 15:43), Joseph was a disciple in high places, a man who kept his allegiances mostly quiet. Yet on Good Friday, when his allegiance was least likely to do him good, he speaks.

Second, burying Jesus would have cost Joseph dearly. Financially, he bought the linen shroud himself and placed Jesus in a tomb he had just cut — no doubt with other purposes in mind (Mark 15:46; Matthew 27:57). Ceremonially, handling a dead body rendered him unclean. And socially, he embraced the indignity of touching blood and sweat, of bending his grown body under another’s, as if he were a slave or Roman soldier.

Third, and most surprising, Joseph, along with the other disciples, had every reason to feel his hopes crucified, breathless as the body he carried. We have no cause to suspect he saw the resurrection coming. Like the eleven, huddled in that hopeless locked room, he surely expected the stone to stay unmoved.

To be sure, Joseph’s act was beautiful. But by all appearances, it was hopelessly beautiful. Beautiful like a farmer in famine, tenderly planting a seed he never expects to see. Beautiful like the last living soldier, marching into battle alone.

And yet, maybe even then, Joseph’s hope had one more star still shining. And maybe it has enough life to give light to ours.

Last Star in the Sky

Amid all the darkness, a glimmer appears, faint and far off. Joseph, Luke tells us, “was looking for the kingdom of God” (Luke 23:51). He was looking on Friday morning; somehow, he was still looking on Friday evening, even as he held the kingdom’s dead King. What light sustained such a look?

Perhaps Joseph remembered how his father Abraham had believed “in hope . . . against hope” (Romans 4:18). And perhaps he, like Abraham, carried this slain Isaac to the tomb considering, on some dim level, “that God was able even to raise him from the dead” (Hebrews 11:19).

“God’s kingdom often advances most in the midst of unexpected, unlikely obedience.”

Perhaps he recalled how God had lit up black mornings before, raising the sun as if from a tomb. Perhaps he faintly wondered whether this lifter of Lazarus might somehow lift himself. Perhaps he held the shadow of a hope that Jesus was still somehow the Christ, and that the Christ couldn’t stay dead forever. The Pharisees remembered that Jesus said, “After three days I will rise” (Matthew 27:63); maybe Joseph did too. Maybe he couldn’t forget.

Either way, hope held a few final breaths in Joseph’s lungs, even after Jesus’s had left. So, he put one heavy foot in front of the other. He defied despair, defied his feelings, defied probabilities, and held the man he had followed. He walked under the gathered darkness of Good Friday, a man weighed down with the world’s dying hope. He took this lifeless King, carefully buried him, and somehow still believed his kingdom would come.

Have you known such a hope, one that meets you on dark mornings and rolls away the covers like a stone? Have you learned to look for the kingdom under the light of the sky’s last star? And if not, can you follow Joseph’s footprints, and dare to obey even when hope seems dead?

Courage to Keep Looking

We might imagine that experiences like Joseph’s have ceased on this side of the empty tomb. While Christ lives, can hope ever seem dead? No doubt, Joseph walked on unique ground. No saint since him has fought to believe and obey under circumstances so dire. None of us has held our Lord’s dead body.

But we should beware of underestimating how confused, futile, dark, and hopeless we can feel, even with Easter behind us. Jesus spoke of dark and cold days to come (Matthew 24:12). Peter wrote of grief and Paul of desperate groaning (1 Peter 1:6; Romans 8:22–25). At times, the great apostle himself bent down — discouraged, weary, “perplexed” (2 Corinthians 4:8). Post-Easter, our hope ever lives and reigns, but we cannot always see him. Some nights here seem too dark.

We might wish to walk beneath skies always bright, our hands full of breathing hope, our faith nearly turned to sight. Those days do come and, oh, what a gift they are. Looking for the kingdom feels easy then. So does obeying the King.

But for many of us, days will come when we feel more like Joseph, looking for a kingdom we cannot see. Our feelings may tell us the kingdom is dead, just as Jesus’s tomb seemed closed forever. But as Joseph’s story reminds us, God’s kingdom often advances most in the midst of unexpected, unlikely obedience. The tree inches upward, unseen, from the mustard seed. The leaven spreads silently through the lump. And in the midnight of our obedience, the darkness of the tomb awaits the moment when lungs will fill again with hope.

So then, with Joseph, take courage. Keep praying, keep waiting, keep looking for the kingdom you cannot trace. Set your weary heart like a watchman on the walls, asking and aching for morning. Obey your Lord in the darkness, and dare to believe that he will bring the dawn.

Part 2 Episode 124 The fear of man inevitably undermines assurance, so how does the gospel give us the confidence we need? In this episode of Light + Truth, John Piper turns to Proverbs 28:1 to show us how to cultivate Christian boldness.

When you hear the word eschatology, do you feel its significance to your present life — I mean the people, responsibilities, and decisions before you today? Or do you (more likely) think of debates over when Jesus is coming back or whether we’ll be raptured? Do you even know what the word eschatology means?

Eschatology means “the study of the last things,” and this precious and relevant doctrine often gets relegated to the periphery of church life. I remember leading a Bible study through Revelation that routinely devolved into a debate between a couple of elderly saints over whether the rapture would be “pre-trib” or “mid-trib.” For some, eschatology conjures images of multiheaded beasts, the dissolution of stars and planets, or mountains swallowing people alive. Like the painting of a master hung on the wall, eschatology might invite animated discussion and yet seem to bear little consequence to work or marriage or rush-hour traffic.

The problem is that the portrait of the end times in the New Testament refuses to stay on the wall. Like the picture of the ship in C.S. Lewis’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when you look closely, the waves begin to move, the briny wind whips your hair, and before you know it you find yourself treading water in a cold and wild sea.

We can’t approach eschatology like Eustace Scrubb (the whiny, narrow-minded cousin in Lewis’s story) looks at his dead beetles: specimens pinned to cards for the purpose of mere analysis. The end of the ages has come barreling upon us; we live in the end times.

‘End of the Ages’

The New Testament persistently speaks of Christians as living in the end times near to the return of Christ. The author of Hebrews, for instance, says that “in these last days [God] has spoken to us by his Son” (Hebrews 1:2). Likewise, the apostle Paul, recounting the punishments that fell on Israel for their sins, writes, “These things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction, on whom the end of the ages has come” (1 Corinthians 10:11). James writes, “You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand” (James 5:8).

First-century Christians understood they inhabited a new epoch of world history: the last of the ages. The end times burst upon the world when Christ rose from the dead and ascended to the Father. And the next event in redemption’s sequence, as the Apostles’ Creed reminds us, is Christ’s return to judge the living and the dead.

Centuries have passed, but our basic situation hasn’t changed. Christians today still live in the unique age of history that some theologians have described as the “already–not yet.” Christ has already come; he has not yet come again. The hyphen between those comings has become our home. Moreover, the hyphen is not some motionless, undefined line without purpose or end but a vector, containing both magnitude (a predetermined length) and direction (a predetermined end). Like all history, God has ordered that little hyphen to a particular purpose. And thus, everything contained within that hyphen, even the most mundane moments, echoes with eternal weight and meaning.

Life Within a Shrinking Frame

The apostle Peter captures the weight and relevance of the hyphen in his second letter. There he reminds believers that many scoffers will not recognize the significance of the already–not yet life. Failing to understand that because creation had a beginning, so too it must have an end, they mockingly say, “Where is the promise of his coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all things are continuing as they were from the beginning of creation” (2 Peter 3:4). Rejecting what God has clearly revealed, they live as though the world will continue as it has from the beginning, locked in an immanent frame with which God (let alone Jesus Christ) has little or nothing to do.

Thus, they give themselves to sinful desires, empty pursuits (2 Peter 3:3). Self-realization becomes all in all. Life consists of the possessions one owns. Happiness grows out of the fragile planters of career achievement or relational success. “Real living” shrinks to the size of weekends or vacations. And even for those who find satisfaction in their work, a certain meaninglessness dogs every step.

Not so for you Christians, says Peter. You recognize the space in which you live. You know the brevity that characterizes life and work on this earth. You know that “the Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise” to return “as some count slowness” (2 Peter 3:9). You know that “the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar . . . and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed” (2 Peter 3:10). You know the limited nature of the hyphen and its end. Jesus will return. Judgment will come. So, “what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness?” (2 Peter 3:11).

A friend recently told me about a youth pastor who ends youth gatherings with a simple creed: “Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.” The purpose of that recitation is to train the youth how to live in the present. He wants them to understand that the immanent frame, the boxed-in natural world in which God plays no part and to which he won’t return, the motionless painting on the wall, is a delusion. There will come a day when “the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed” (2 Peter 3:10). All the works of humankind will face judgment.

A Hyphen Changes Lives

This two-thousand-year hyphen changes how we spend our lives, awakening us to the preciousness and import of each moment. The regular routines of today, the tasks (big and small) that we’re required to complete for work, the multitude of interactions we will have with spouse, children, parents, siblings, friends, classmates, coworkers, and strangers — every moment is an opportunity God has provided (planned, in fact, from the beginning) to show that we live for the glory of the one who will return. When we remember our beloved Master is coming back, we aim for faithfulness in every activity.

Christ’s coming provides us with necessary perspective as we deal with these everyday moments. The frustrations of rush hour — getting cut off by an errant motorist, another detour due to seasonal construction, an accident that adds ten minutes to your commute — are opportunities to remind yourself and show others that your clock is set to a heavenly time zone. An extra few minutes on the way to work is given by the God who owns all times. Will we squander it in frustration or put it to use in prayer?

Likewise, the work you do each day bears great significance. Your vocation may seem unimportant in the grand scheme of world history, yet the one who planned the end from the beginning included your labors in the blueprints for this day. And in some small way, these labors can become part of hastening the return of Christ. Whether your work today means changing yet another diaper, crunching numbers in a spreadsheet, or serving the needs of an ailing stranger, remembering that it fits into God’s eternal purpose guards us from the despairing thought that none of it really matters in eternity. Rather, because Christ rose and will return, “in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Eschatology also matters for our relationships. Each interaction you have with spouse or children or others is an interaction with an immortal being whose existence is eschatologically shaped. The passing remarks and small jests, the serious conversations, the tender or harsh tones, the kind or disparaging looks — in every instance we are, as Lewis reminds us, helping others toward either the new heaven and earth, where righteousness will dwell, or the lake of fire, reserved for the devil, his angels, and all who reject the love and reign of Christ (The Weight of Glory, 45–46).

The day of God is coming, says Peter, so “be diligent to be found by him without spot or blemish” (2 Peter 3:14). Strive in his strength to walk in holiness and godliness as you order your life toward his glory in these last days.

Magic Beneath This Life

The study of the end times bears heavily on the here and now, precisely because the end times are not some future age to come but the very real present. Every moment of daily life, every drawn breath, every word and act takes place within a realm, so to speak, of magic.

The Eustaces of the world cannot see this for they’ve become enthralled by the events, inventions, and busyness of a God-less world. To them, the picture on the wall of life between the advents of Christ is just that, a picture and nothing more. The challenge for Christians is to not succumb to such blinded ways of thinking but to remember that the picture, if you look closely, is more real and expansive than what we see.

Audio Transcript

We’re going deep today. I mentioned on Monday that I have a batch of related questions to offer you, Pastor John — all big, all touching on several points of theology, all similar, all accumulated over the years from reading audience emails. I think they’re the kinds of questions all of us will face at some point as we read our Bibles and develop an appropriate God-centered vision of the universe. So, as a first foray on this podcast into this matrix, I’ll put all the related questions on the table for you, in brief.

Our God-centeredness here at Desiring God raises questions about the integrity of creation — questions about us humans in particular. So, here are those questions: Are we, as creatures, simply a means to God’s own self-glorification? Do we exist for a purpose beyond God’s own self-glory? And does God love us beyond his love for himself, or is the first fully subsumed by the second? Are we, as image-bearers, simply mirror-holders for him to see himself? Do we count? Does God love or delight in his creatures for what they are in themselves? Speaking of unbelievers, does God delight in materially blessing creatures that do not or will not believe in him? But speaking of believers, does God love to love us simply because it blesses us? Is such a category even operable? How would you tackle a matrix of questions like these?

It might be helpful to clarify what gives rise to these kinds of questions, then give a very brief, one-sentence answer to each of those nine questions, then step back and look at the Bible and see what it is about God and his ways that makes those very brief answers justifiable and compelling, and then explain why those answers make sense.

What Provokes the Questions

So, what gives rise to these questions is that I, and many others in the history of the church, have emphasized the biblical teaching that God created and redeemed his people for his own glory — meaning, to cause his glory (his greatness, his beauty, his worth) to be known and treasured and shown in the universe. That’s what I think “for his own glory” means.

“Stars and stones and mountains are means to God’s self-glorification, but not the way humans are.”

“My sons . . . my daughters . . . whom I created for my glory” (Isaiah 43:6–7). We’re chosen, predestined, adopted, redeemed through the blood of Christ for the praise of the glory of God’s grace (Ephesians 1:4–7). And that teaching — namely, that all things are from him and through him and to him, to his glory — that teaching causes all these questions to be raised. So, let me respond to each of these nine questions with a very short answer and then look at the main thing in Scripture.

Nine Brief Answers

Question 1: Are we simply a means to God’s self-glorification?

No, not simply, because stars and stones and mountains are means to God’s self-glorification, but not the way humans are. It’s not that simple.

Question 2: Do we exist for a purpose beyond God’s own self-glory?

No. There is no such thing as “beyond God’s glory.”

Question 3: Does God love us beyond his love for himself, or is the first fully subsumed in the second?

God has no greater love than the love he has for his Son, who is “the radiance of [his] glory . . . and the exact imprint of his nature” (Hebrews 1:3). And that love for his Son is, therefore, a love for his own infinitely glorious self. To love us with that same love cannot be improved upon.

Question 4: Are we as image-bearers simply mirror-holders for him to see himself?

No, he didn’t need us in order to simply see himself. He has done that with infinite joy in the fellowship of the Trinity from all eternity.

Question 5: Do we count?

Yes, he did not need to create, and he did not create for nothing.

Question 6: Does God love or delight in his creatures for what they are in themselves?

What humans are in themselves, apart from our reliance on God and rejoicing in God, is what hell is for. It is not wise to want to be loved the way a human in hell might be loved.

Question 7: Does God delight in materially blessing creatures that will never believe in him?

Yes, God delights in the overflow of mercy even where it is spurned.

Question 8: Speaking of believers, does God love to love us simply because it blesses us?

God’s blessing us is never simply for us without also being for him because there is no eternal blessing where our good does not include God.

Question 9: Is that category even operable — namely, the category of God’s loving us simply because it blesses us?

No, it is atheistic to think it would be good for God to bless us in a way that did not glorify his grace by our enjoyment of it.

From Suppressing to Rejoicing

Now, let me see if I can put some biblical truth underneath those short answers.

First, we need to take really seriously the fact that there is a powerful atheistic tendency in every human heart. That’s what it means to be fallen and depraved and sinful by nature. Humans “by their unrighteousness suppress the truth” (Romans 1:18). What truth do we suppress? “They did not approve of having God in their knowledge” (Romans 1:28, my translation). They “exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images” (Romans 1:23). “The mind [of] the flesh is hostile to God” (Romans 8:7). In other words, the Bible teaches that human beings by nature are going to be powerfully resistant to any doctrine that emphasizes the absolute supremacy of God in all things and that makes God the ultimate good of all that is good.

“Our ultimate good always consists in knowing and treasuring and showing God’s glory.”

Then the second thing to notice from the Bible is that, over and over and over again, God himself and all that he is for us in Jesus is shown to be the ultimate good, the ultimate fulfillment, happiness, satisfaction, and joy of the redeemed human heart. If you trace God’s love from its origin in the eternal grace of God, through his redeeming work in Christ, to the ultimate and greatest, most beautiful, most satisfying end, that end is always God — God himself enjoyed supremely in the heart of the redeemed.

Jesus prays for us that we would see his glory (John 17:24). That’s his ultimate, final wish of love for us — that we would see his glory, and that we would be able to love him with the very love that the Father has for him. Peter says that Christ suffered for us “that he might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18), where we find “fullness of joy . . . pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11). That’s what God will be for the redeemed.

Out with Atheism

Now, what this boils down to is this: it never makes sense to speak of God delighting in doing us good and God delighting in his own glory as though our ultimate good could be distinct from the glory of God. It never makes sense to talk like that; it can’t be, because our ultimate good always consists in knowing and treasuring and showing God’s glory.

The resistance to this wonderful truth that God’s glory shines in me by my happily exulting in him, as if there could be some greater happiness if I could just be me — distinct from reliance on God, distinct from rejoicing in God, distinct from glorifying God — that resistance is evil. It is a remnant of the atheistic nature we were born with, and we need to ask God to take it away.