Audio Transcript

Unconditional election. Isn’t this just a dry doctrine for eggheads to discuss and debate? No, it’s not. We all need this doctrine, unconditional election, and that’s why unconditional election is a theme we’ve studied a dozen times on the podcast over the years. It’s this precious fact that “God’s choice of one person and not others is not based on any good deeds or any bad deeds in the persons themselves.” Let me say that again. “God’s choice of one person and not others is not based on any good deeds or any bad deeds in the persons themselves” (APJ 1302). God chooses his children unconditionally. That’s unconditional election.

But what practical value does such a doctrine hold for my life? That’s Chase’s question today: “Pastor John, hello and thank you for this podcast. My question is this: Can you tell me why believing in unconditional election matters? Isn’t this doctrine nitpicking, and divisive, more than edifying?”

Yes, it matters. No, it is not nitpicking. Yes, it could be divisive, but that’s not the fault of the doctrine; it’s the fault of the human heart. And yes, it is edifying. So, let me give ten reasons to answer Chase’s question, “Does it matter?”

“Grace is the very meaning of unconditional election — God’s free, gracious choice, not our qualifications.”

Now, what we mean by unconditional election — you could use the word selection if election has political sounds to you — is God’s free, gracious choice, before creation, of who it is that he will give faith and repentance to and thus pardon their sin and adopt them into his everlasting family. It’s an election or a selection not based on anything — not anything in us, not foreseen faith, not good works, not parentage, not national origin or race or ethnicity, not religious ritual like baptism or the Lord’s Supper. God’s selection is unconditional, based only on his all-wise, good pleasure — or as Ephesians 1:11 says, “The counsel of his will.”

So, just as you can pack an atom bomb into a very small missile, let me pack ten reasons that unconditional election matters into ten minutes.

1. Unconditional election is true.

It matters because it’s true. It’s what the Bible teaches.

Though [Jacob and Esau] were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad [they admit no conditions] — in order that God’s purpose of election might continue unconditionally [I added that word, but that’s implied], not because of works but because of him who calls — [Rebecca] was told, “The older will serve the younger.” (Romans 9:11–12)

[God] chose us in [Christ] before the foundation of the world. (Ephesians 1:4)

Jesus said,

All that the Father gives me will come to me. (John 6:37)

Yours they were, and you gave them to me. (John 17:6)

They were the Father’s, and he gave them to Jesus.

2. Unconditional election exalts God’s grace.

It matters because the aim of unconditional election is that we are destined for eternal joy and praise of the glory of the grace of God. That’s our destiny. Grace is the very meaning of unconditional election — God’s free, gracious choice, not our qualifications.

And the whole design of election is to get joy for our souls and praise for God’s grace. “He chose us in him before the foundation of the world. . . . to the praise of his glorious grace” (Ephesians 1:4, 6). That’s the whole design of unconditional election: grace, grace, glorious grace will be praised forever.

3. Unconditional election humbles us.

It matters because it humbles our proud hearts.

First Corinthians 1:27–29 says, “God chose what is foolish in the world . . . God chose what is weak in the world . . . God chose what is low and despised in the world . . . so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.” God gets praise; we get humbled by unconditional election.

4. Unconditional election secures our faith.

It matters because it makes clear that our faith is a gift of God, a gift of grace that follows election rather than grounding it.

“The Gentiles . . . began rejoicing and glorifying the word of the Lord, and as many as were appointed [that is, chosen, elected] to eternal life believed” (Acts 13:48). They believed because they were appointed. No one can boast that he originated his own believing and so won his election. No. “As many as were chosen” — as many as were chosen, appointed, elected — “believed.” Faith is a gift rooted in the eternal, unconditional election of God.

5. Unconditional election silences accusations.

It matters because it secures the reality that no one can successfully bring any charge against us.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? (Romans 8:31–33)

Let me say that again: “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect?” And the answer is nobody. God’s chosen are secure from all accusation.

6. Unconditional election births compassion.

It matters because it is the deepest ground of our own compassion for other people.

Paul calls for compassion from Christians like this in Colossians 3:12: “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones [elect ones], holy and beloved, compassionate hearts.” Precisely because we are aware of being freely, graciously, undeservedly chosen, owing to nothing in ourselves, we are moved to treat others the way we’ve been treated.

7. Unconditional election removes despair.

Despair at being unsavable is torpedoed by the doctrine of unconditional election.

“Despair at being unsavable is torpedoed by the doctrine of unconditional election.”

If a person says to me, in my office as a pastor, “Pastor, I’m just too evil to be saved. God could never, never set his favor on me. You don’t know what I’ve done. What I have done is all so terrible,” to that person we can say, “God did not choose anybody because of what they had done or not done. Your history of sin is absolutely irrelevant for the question of whether you can be one of God’s chosen ones. God’s choice was unconditional — absolutely. The only question is, Will you believe? If you will believe, you will be saved, and you will confirm your election before the foundation of the world.”

8. Unconditional election destroys racism.

Unconditional election puts an end to racism among God’s people when they grasp what it means.

Racism is rooted in a sense of ethnic or racial superiority. God ignores all such conditions and chooses his people from every ethnicity, and unconditionally he chooses them. Peter wrote, “You are a chosen race . . . a holy nation” (1 Peter 2:9). Christianity is a new race of people. No others — no other races, no other ethnicities — are the basis of belonging. He ransomed people from every tribe, every tongue, every people, every nation. He stops the mouth of all ethnic boasting by choosing unconditionally.

9. Unconditional election brings assurance.

It matters because we can know we are chosen, with all the blessings that implies.

“We know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction” (1 Thessalonians 1:4–5).

10. Unconditional election shapes God’s action in history.

It matters because God shapes all of history for the sake of his elect. To make sure that we come safely home into his presence, he controls the world.

Jesus said about the end of history (and I think it applies to all of history in principle), “If those days had not been cut short, no human being would be saved. But for the sake of the elect those days will be cut short” (Matthew 24:22).

So, Chase, in answer to your question, yes, it matters. It matters a lot. And the church would be stronger if pastors fed their people on this rich food for our faith.

“Fake! Fake! Toy, toy, toy!” jeered Danny and Lynn as I showed them Big Dog, one of my stuffed animals. I was about six years old, so they were about ten and twelve. I had claimed that my animals were real. They told me to grow up and stop being a baby. My response was to fetch another animal, the one I called Big Bear. I figured if I told them enough about him, they’d have to believe me. They only taunted more, “Fake! Fake!” I can still feel the humiliation.

But I also remember my belief. Of course I understood my toys were not real, not the way the family boxer was real. But I also knew there is more to the world than what our immediate senses comprehend. I knew imagination and faith reveal more than what skeptics see. And in days when our culture clashes over what is reality and how to describe it, that matters.

‘No World but Mine’

The fight over what is real runs through a thrilling scene from C.S. Lewis’s The Silver Chair. English schoolchildren Jill and Eustace are sent to the magical realm of Narnia by the great lion, Aslan, to rescue the lost Prince Rilian. He has been captured by the Witch-Queen of the Underland, a dank, stale region beneath the beautiful lands and skies of Narnia. Just when the children have found Rilian and set him free, the Witch appears. But rather than subdue them physically, the Witch attempts to enchant them so they will never even desire to flee her dim, shadowy realm.

The Witch throws a magic powder in the glowing fireplace. She strums a stringed instrument with “a steady, monotonous thrumming.” Then she begins to define reality for them. The world of twentieth-century England (from which they came) was just imaginary. Narnia — with its talking animals, shining stars, bright sunlight, and vivid colors — was merely a fantasy. “There never was such a world,” says the Witch. The children repeat back her words. Then she asserts, “There never was any world but mine” (630). They parrot her again. They settle into the lie, and feel relief to stop fighting her spell. They are almost lost.

Modern Spells

“There never was any world but mine.” Is anyone casting a spell over you with these words? They tell you that your antiquated Christian beliefs place you “on the wrong side of history.” The thrumming enchantment makes you wonder, “What if that’s so?” The Witch-Queen calmly, but constantly, repeats her lies. She tells you what every educated and enlightened person knows:

The world was not created out of nothing by some personal God. With nothing above us, we determine our own meaning.

An embryo inside a woman’s womb is not a person yet. “It” is just part of her body and under her sovereign control.

The underlying motivation in every individual or group is power. If from the majority group, you can never stop being an oppressor. If from a minority group, you ever remain a victim.

You can, however, always determine your gender identity no matter your biological sex. To oppose any process of “transitioning” is hateful and leads to others’ depression and even suicide.

What I need is to be freed from any person, morality, or group that impedes my expression of me. I do not need to be liberated from myself; I need to be liberated into myself.

“These are simple truths,” today’s Witch-Queen says as she throws more powder on the fire. “Opposing them forfeits your right to speak, work, or advance. There never was any world but mine.”

On Aslan’s Side

Almost, the children and Prince Rilian succumb to the enchantment. After all, they cannot now see Narnia. Perhaps their memories are only remnants of dreams. But they have with them one more companion on the quest to rescue the prince. Puddleglum, an odd creature called a Marsh-wiggle, is, as his name implies, a rather dour realist. But his gloomy personality makes him more resistant to enchantment.

Just before it is too late, Puddleglum rouses himself with great effort and moves toward the fireplace. He stamps one of his hard bare feet into the flames. The terrible pain clears his head. He has also put out much of the fire, dampening the aroma of the magic powder. The Witch rages. But the children start to come back to themselves.

Then Puddleglum confronts the Witch-Queen with some of the great lines in English literature.

“One word, Ma’am,” he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. “One word. . . . Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things — trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia.” (633)

“Four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow.” What we see through the imagination of faith (grounded in the revealed word of Scripture) is far more interesting and wondrous than all the seemingly sophisticated posturing of the self-centered world.

Open His Eyes

Long ago, Elisha the prophet warned the king of Israel about the plans of the king of Syria. His supernatural knowledge saved Israel’s king from war and destruction. So, the king of Syria sought to capture Elisha. One night, his army and chariots surrounded the city where the prophet resided. Early in the morning, Elisha’s servant looked out upon the siege and panicked.

The servant said, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” He said, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see.” So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. (2 Kings 6:15–17)

Earthly eyes saw only earthly things. Fierce Syrian warriors and chariots surrounded the city. But the eyes of faith, as the Spirit enabled, saw much more of reality. The Lord’s army, vast and powerful, protected the prophet in his city. God’s angelic host had chariots of fire! The king of Syria was not in charge of reality. Much more happens in the world than meets the eye. The sovereign God still reigns and works out all things according to his purpose.

Is that a fantasy? The eyes of faith, opened by the Spirit, see the greater picture. Hebrews 12:1 tells us that “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,” all those who have gone before us in faithfulness. The supposed “real world” of today’s unbelief sags under a dull sameness and a tedious imprisonment to self. The vision of Scripture reveals a more glorious reality.

Grim Stories Licked Hollow

When we take our side with those saints who have gone before us, we may be shunned or scorned by today’s sophisticates. So be it. Think of the company we get to keep. Watching, cheering our path are Mary Magdalene and Athanasius, John Calvin and Christina Rossetti, and (still with us) Joni Eareckson Tada and John Piper.

Countless others through the centuries join us. All of us are connected by the testimony of faith in Jesus. This wondrous multitude licks hollow the grim story attempting to capture our culture. How dim, how lonely is any worldview that revolves around me as the center. God has so much more.

Why would I ever go it alone, pretending to be a sovereign self, spinning around nothingness? Rather, acknowledging God’s sovereignty, I am taken into the company of all the saints and all the glory of creation. We walk now by faith, not by physical sight. But the gift of faith opens us to the spiritual vision of God’s glorious reality.

I still have Big Dog. He sits on top of our dresser. Every now and then as I pass by, I pat him and speak to him. I know he’s not real. I also know that imagination and faith reveal sights that can’t be seen by this world. I know the God who entered the world in skin and bone, died utterly, and then rose again in this very world to an everlasting life.

The world may say, “Fake! Toy!” But I say, “True! True! Real, real, real!”

Let’s admit, kissing is not what it used to be.

With the passage of time, the act has been romanticized and its applications narrowed. Once its associations were far more generally familial and brotherly; now they are more specifically marital, even sexual. Once kissing was a frequently exchanged sign of affection, particularly among close friends and extended family, and especially among the people of the one true God, both first covenant Jews and the new covenant Christians of the early church. Being a kissing people had something to say about their God. His people not only thought rigorously; they felt deeply. They not only spoke of familial allegiance, but showed familial affection. They not only confessed their love; they kissed.

That may sound well and good looking back at the past, but, closer to home, what do we do with the apostles’ repeated charge to Christians like us, “Greet one another with a holy kiss” (Romans 16:16)? Paul ends four of his letters with the command, and Peter adds his own: “Greet one another with the kiss of love” (1 Peter 5:14). So, do you? And if not, why not?

Previously, we surveyed a brief theology of kissing by tracing the Old Testament backdrop, and identifying a key takeaway for the church age. Now we turn to the two signature instances of kissing in the New Testament, both in the life of Jesus.

He Came to Be Kissed

Before reviewing the two sets of lips that kissed Jesus, let’s first marvel at the very reality of the incarnation, that the eternal second person of the unkissable Godhead became man, and dwelled among us — and could be kissed. Doubtless his mother showered his newborn cheeks with countless kisses as she “treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). Surely Joseph too. And Jesus’s relatives and younger siblings, in those frequent moments when they appreciated his holiness (rather than being unnerved by it).

For thousands of years, the Creator God, existing above and outside his created world, though ever present and watchful and near, could not be physically kissed by human lips. Lips and tongue could kiss him with expressions of worship and praise, but he had no human forehead, cheeks, or feet to literally kiss — that is, until the Son came, to be heard with human ears, seen with physical eyes, looked upon and touched (1 John 1:1), with both hands and lips.

“The unkissable God became man — and kissable.”

So, the unkissable God became man — and kissable. And in a striking contrast, the Gospels’ two reported touchings of human lips to the flesh of God himself come from the most unlikely of persons: “a woman of the city” kissing his feet in humble worship, and one of his own disciples kissing his face in awful betrayal.

Her Holy Kiss

First is the kiss of worship and glad submission in Luke 7 — a holy kiss, however difficult it was for his fellow dinner guests to stomach. Jesus was eating at the home of a Pharisee named Simon when,

behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. (Luke 7:37–38)

Unsettling for the pious in the moment, the event is rich with significance, in retrospect, through Christian eyes. Anointing has royal connotations, as she consecrates the one she now believes to be the kingly Anointed One, the long-promised Messiah. And she kisses his feet. Aware of her unworthiness, she dares kiss only his lowly feet. As she weeps, Jesus sees both her sorrow for sin and hope of rescue in him. With her tears and kisses, she mingles grief for her own depravity and love for her anointed deliverer.

Here, to use the later words of 1 Peter 5:14, is the quintessential “kiss of love,” from a sinner to her Lord and Savior. The one “forgiven little, loves little,” Jesus tells the stunned Pharisees; however, “her sins, which are many, are forgiven — for she loved much” (Luke 7:47). This “woman of the city” is no fellow dignitary, like the kings and rulers addressed in Psalm 2; yet, as they were commanded, she takes refuge in God’s Anointed, obeying, with joy, the charge of verse 12: “Kiss the Son.” And so, such a woman as this goes before them into the kingdom.

His Unholy Kiss

Second is the infamous kiss of betrayal in the garden. Unlike the first, this is a manifestly “unholy kiss” — and more than that, the archetypical unholy kiss, a literal kiss of death.

“Betrayal is awful. Betrayal with a kiss? Even worse.”

We may have heard the story so many times that it’s easy to miss the gall of it all. The traitor approaches with, “Greetings, Rabbi!” (Matthew 26:49) and draws near to apply a kiss of greeting. Under the pretense of discipleship, even familial familiarity, Judas desecrates God’s Anointed with the atonement’s first blow to the face — his unholy kiss.

Like the unholy kisses of old — whether of idolatry (1 Kings 19:18; Hosea 13:2) or flattery (2 Samuel 15:5; Proverbs 27:6) or adultery (Proverbs 7:13) — this kiss of betrayal prostitutes an otherwise admirable act. Yet, this kiss of betrayal takes on a deeply sinister meaning, maybe the unholiest of all. Betrayal is awful. Betrayal with a kiss? Even worse. Where conquered kings and slaves bow, dearly loved friends and family are entrusted with kissing proximity. Then, like Joab calling Amasa his “brother” and taking him by the beard to kiss him, while concealing his deadly sword in the other hand (2 Samuel 20:9–10), Judas comes near, within striking distance, to his “Rabbi,” for this peculiarly depraved peck.

Knowing the intent full well, and carrying himself with messianic grace and restraint, Jesus allows the traitor such access. He permits his insincere and exploitative kiss (Luke 22:47), but not without asking, “Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” (Luke 22:48). This is not what kisses are for. This is a deceptive, conniving, evil kiss, a kiss of hatred rather than love, of death rather than life. And given the Old Testament background of the kiss, and the specific duplicity and depravity of this kiss, we might ask whether this, under the pretense of a greeting, is actually an act of good riddance. At least it would prove to be such.

Son Kissed

For both the traitor and his rabbi, the unholy kiss led quickly to death — Judas in devastating regret and suicide, Jesus in sacrificially offering himself to the depths of horror and shame. Within 24 hours, the bodies of both would be dead, suspended between heaven and earth, one from a noose, another nailed to a cross. Might one tormented soul in hades have lifted up his eyes, seen his rabbi far off, with Abraham at his side, and called out for mercy? Alas, none would have known better than this disciple that now the great chasm had been fixed. Now none could cross.

For Jesus, that unholy kiss soon gave way to the holy love of the nations, anticipated by the worship of that nameless “woman of the city” who knew her sin and need. Sunday came. His dead heart beat again. The same body that lay dead, sown perishable, was raised, glorified and imperishable. And then, at his ascension, raised again, from earth to heaven, and exalted to the very throne of the universe, where the Father himself fulfilled the words of Psalm 2, declaring at his coronation for the ears of all, “You are my Son; today I have begotten you” (Psalm 2:7). Then, at long last, commanding the hosts of heaven, and the greatest of men, he issued anew history’s most terrifying and marvelous ultimatum:

Kiss the Son,     lest he be angry, and you perish in the way,     for his wrath is quickly kindled.Blessed are all who take refuge in him. (Psalm 2:12)

And so, we gladly obey. We kiss him now, from afar, by faith — in our worship, and praises, and glad confessions that he is Lord. And we remember that one day soon we will stand before him, in glorified flesh and blood. He will appear, says 1 John 3:2, and “we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is” — that is, our brother, our friend, the God we can kiss.

My Dear Globdrop,

I shall happily give you sex advice for your (thus far) happily married man.

As a most impure spirit, you admit a certain revulsion toward the “grotesque images of bodies enmeshed and limbs flailing.” While I may know some of their sexual enchantments — we can save talk of the Nephilim for another time, perhaps — I understand your natural aversion with the physical and primal urges of the humans. You wouldn’t give the act a moment’s thought if it did not mean so much to them and to the Enemy.

But oh, how much it means to them! What opportunity sex presents. The passions of their flesh, under our sway, “wage war” against their souls (1 Peter 2:11). The steps of lust — sensual and beckoning — go down to death, as the father once tried to warn.

It appears to me that you’ve chosen the proper time to begin your temptations. The honeymoon season is setting — now is the time for the paint to begin to chip. Little quarrels start to creep in; mice move in the walls. Gestures and quirks (so adorable while dating) start to shed their skin — real married life begins. Although he has heard of our designs already from other husbands, this doesn’t deter us. He sympathizes, sure — but such will never happen to him. Although he has done “fellowship” with a few graduates over the years, this is still a most excellent time to initiate our Marital Abstinence Program (MAP).

Untangle Bodies

Globdrop, I know how quickly you mean to steer your ox toward the muddy hillsides of pornography or the fresher pastures of his neighbor’s wife, but patience, young apprentice. First, we must place the hook firmly in his nose. Dry up his sex life with his wife. Dehydrate the marriage bed, and then, all in due course, lead him to other streams.

Is this not the strategy the apostle sought to expose? “Do not deprive one another . . . so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control” (1 Corinthians 7:5). Wonderfully for us, they often miss the spiritual warfare surrounding their married sex life. And of course, they barely talk about it with each other (your man, somehow an exception). Which pastor is going to tell lazy husbands or selfish wives that their bodies actually belong to their spouse?

A few steps, then, for cultivating this blessed deprivation, this unholy untangling, this wintry and lifeless marriage bed so unthinkable to him at present.

1. Cool through familiarity.

The sex we offer is colorful, impassioned, daring, free. It is to swim with dolphins, soar with eagles, run with wild horses, soak bare under banned waterfalls.

But what of the married sort?

Sameness, dreary and inescapable. Slowly unveil monogamy’s monotony. “You mean fifty years of sex with the same person!” blurted one man he knew, mouth agape. That is the response we relish. A vineyard boasting of one cluster; a stock falling, diminishing returns.

Globdrop, they can hardly endure the well-known. The same picture on the wall vanishes. A symphony on repeat fades away. Hearing they do not hear; seeing they do not see — oh, blessed familiarity. They soon tire of heavenly bread and desire the meat pots of Egypt.

What happened to that raging fire that burned while dating? Stoking the dying flame now feels more like an inconvenience on cold and tired nights. As necessity arises, let them guzzle the wine (but forget to savor it). Most nights, let them sleep on either side of busyness, bitterness, or boredom. Several kids later, several fights later, the garden that teemed with wonder fills with weeds.

2. Behoove the husband.

We love it when the thought eventually arrives (and slip it in quietly after some time), This is not quite what I expected — often meaning (even without realizing), The marital sex life is not like pornography at all. Your man may have some distance from that gutter, but is he really out of gunshot? We must ensure that monogamy with a real woman (whoever she might be) is set up to disappoint. The new-car smell must wear off eventually.

In our videos, the woman is always desirous, has no children, shares no emotional life with the male, doesn’t argue with him or know his faults. She bears no scars from her past or sadness in her present. She is untiring, enhanced, and accessible — enticing and already enticed. She doesn’t want to talk or cry or sleep or share burdens; she is never insecure.

Intimacy — at its finest, you must gently remind him — is not intimate in those other ways. That which is of the flesh is flesh. Our versions transact thin, quick pleasure. The marriage bed, in comparison, is sadly distracted from this sensual single-mindedness.

And in frustration to this, if she is ever too drained, too distracted, too detached, or too selfish herself to be so vulnerable, wound him and send him immediately to the bottoms. “The husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights” — he is trying (1 Corinthians 7:3). Self-pity is a man’s (and therefore a demon’s) best friend. Let him sleep with resentment (if not his wife), and so afford an “opportunity to the devil” (Ephesians 4:27).

Feed this loop. He grows bitter and lazy; she grows oblivious and content; we grow fat and satisfied.

3. Weary the wife.

Considering different seasons of hormonal changes (a design that makes our job the easier), an unequally yoked sex drive may appear. Be prepared. At other seasons, if the two do have that baby, sheer tiredness from children hanging from arms and berating nerves usually helps us. With all of this, we must wonder aloud something like, How can he be so inconsiderate to even ask after such a day as mine?

The days fill with good things; the nights with exhaustion. We wonder why the Old Preacher did not add to his poems about the seasons,

There is a time for sex, and a time for children.

It is just like the Enemy to bestow the gift, and then give them offspring that threaten the gift that bore them. Let the Enemy name kids “miracles” all he wants — the marriage bed begets its assassin. He warns them not to deprive each other and then produces the chief competitor to the time and energy required.

And beyond that, realize, Globdrop, that her body will eventually begin to change. She will know it; doesn’t he? Will he start noticing other women? She will not feel as desirous, and so ensure she lessen in desire. Even the heroine in their Song admits it: “Do not gaze at me because I am dark, because the sun has looked upon me” (Song of Solomon 1:6). The more naked, the more ashamed — we must turn this constantly to our advantage. Strangle to death any obedience to that enchantment love gives the eye, even into old age: “Rejoice in the wife of your youth, a lovely deer, a graceful doe” (Proverbs 5:18–19).

4. Lure to other trees.

At this point, Globdrop, you will be ready to reenchant him with the sheer exquisiteness of sex.

Its ecstasy and spell, its royal banquet, its private garden where fawns wander. Its hidden waterfall, its lands of hushed laughter, its secret vineyards. Its taste of Eden — naked and unashamed. Is it not the gift of the gods? Is it not embodied poetry, two bodies set to rhyme — copulate, or couplet? Uncover this beauty that breaks mathematics: 1 + 1 = 1. Ribs return to sides. The two become one flesh.

Oh, the intoxication of sex! “Sex,” of course, outside of marriage — not the knotty, shriveled thing his actual sex life will have actually become. To those unwed: sex, sex, and more sex. To the married: bickering, busyness, and a bed shared by a roommate. Turn his gaze away to the wild elsewhere. For what pleasure can really exist in the marital bed, stripped of the forbiddances, inebriating novelties, and the most greedy and devouring gratifications?

Deplorable Design

Busyness, lust, fantasy, fights, miscommunications, withdrawings, insecurities, changing bodies, knocking kids, manipulation, rejection, self-pity, and shame are only a few weapons at our disposal. Time fails. But let me finish with the worst of it.

Why did the Enemy make them sexual? Why not form all babies from the dust? The Enemy intended the marriage bed — I shriek to even write it — to foreshadow his own intentions of intimacy with the humans. Copulation was his cursive written into human relations that murmured something of his love to them — whom he even calls his bride. Did we need any other reason to storm down from heaven? He really meant to suggest a Marriage beyond all marriages, a vast intimacy beyond all marriage beds. The givenness, the belonging, the absorption, the two into one — telling something of man with deity — how could any free angel bear it?

Over our dead and damned spirits! To your post, Globdrop: dam the marriage bed, turn the river into a swamp full of swarming mosquitoes and frogs. Mar all the Enemy intended. Foment their neglect; muddy the fountain. Then drown them in the more sparkling streams of lawless sexual delights. Strip what he has now down to a transaction, a duty, a boredom — then offer them the delectable fruits of better trees.

Your marriage counselor and uncle,Grimgod

When I began my doctoral studies on the Puritans, I received all sorts of odd, and sometimes troubling, questions about my research. One of the most surprising came from a stranger who, upon learning the focus of my PhD, asked, “Do we have any stories of children raised by Puritans who grew up and left the faith because of how their parents mistreated them?” The question came out of nowhere; I could hardly think of what to say. In my shock, I blurted out that I was not aware of any stories like this.

Later that night, I realized why the question shocked me. Not only had I never heard such a story, but I had heard many stories that showed the opposite — stories of young men raised by Puritan fathers who then became Puritans themselves, such as Matthew Henry, son of Puritan clergyman Philip Henry. Soon, I would also discover that the Puritans explicitly spoke against abuse in the home, instructing parents instead to care for and pass down the faith to their families.

In fact, the Puritans are often remembered for their devotion to family life. What we don’t often hear about, however, are the Puritan women — the faithful mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, and daughters who bore much of the load. When I started studying Puritan women, their stories excited me: a daughter evangelizing her unbelieving father, an aunt catechizing her nieces and guiding them through life’s challenges, a grandmother raising her granddaughter after a family tragedy. These are just some of the amazing testimonies that have been preserved for us from church history.

But to me, the most fascinating story of a Puritan woman passing down the faith comes from the life of Lucy Hutchinson (1620–1681). A mother of eight who wrote works of poetry, history, and theology, Hutchinson crafted the only known theological treatise written by a woman in the seventeenth century. Its purpose? To pass down the faith to her daughter Barbara, who would soon move away to start life as an independent adult.

When Love and Duty Meet

The fact that Hutchinson wrote an entire book of theology becomes less surprising when we consider her upbringing: she hated sewing and playing with friends her age, loved reading and listening to the adults of the house, attended sermons with her mother, outperformed her brother in Latin, and eventually married a man who had similar intellectual interests.

But still, why would Hutchinson go to the trouble of writing an entire book for her daughter? In a letter to Barbara that she attached to the treatise, Hutchinson explained herself. Though she could have simply bought Barbara an affordable short catechism written by professionally trained theologians (such as the theologians who influenced her own writings), she believed it was her duty as a mother to do all she could to stabilize her daughter’s faith — and she could not shirk this duty.

True, Barbara might think it over-the-top. What’s more, Hutchinson was weighed down by great personal challenges during her writing process: illness, distraction, a lack of external support and self-confidence, and the aftermath of her husband’s death (which left her with a broken heart, debts to pay off, and children to care for alone). But she felt that she had to proceed, no matter how slow and painful the process might be. Overall, what motivated Hutchinson, in addition to her motherly love and sense of duty, was her own commitment to God and his people.

Faith-Filled Mothers Faithfully Teach

As Hutchinson’s treatise shows, she was convinced from Scripture that the purpose of life was to love God, which led, in turn, to loving his people. So, she taught Barbara that we fulfill the most important commandment or “the law” through “love” (Mark 12:29–30; Romans 13:10) and that God calls us to “stir up one another to love” (Hebrews 10:24) and abide “in the light” (1 John 2:10) through love.

In light of these passages, she urged Barbara to partake of the faith and love of the universal church by joining a local church to worship God with fellow believers, serve one another, and care for the needy. In fact, her book is one big explanation of faith in God, his work in creation, salvation, and sanctification, and how we live in relationship with him and humanity.

Unfortunately, we don’t know what became of Barbara after Hutchinson sent her off with this special book; the only record we have is of the financial hardships Barbara’s daughters faced later in life. But we do know that despite whatever trials Barbara and her family faced, they had access to the most important truths through the teaching Lucy had passed down to them.

Passing Down the Faith Today

After learning about Hutchinson’s intellectual prowess and great ambitions, we may be tempted to think of her example as too great to emulate. But despite her unique talents, Hutchinson’s story has many lessons for us today as we seek to raise our children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews in the Lord Jesus.

1. Teach yourself first.

First, Hutchinson grounded herself in the truths of Scripture before and as she taught her daughter. When she instructed Barbara, she did not speak as a nameless, faceless narrator — she spoke as a Christian who had spent her life studying theology, gathering with the church, and reflecting on her own faith journey.

Her commitment to personal discipleship teaches us that if we want to do any spiritual good to the dependents and disciples in our lives, we first need to receive that spiritual good for ourselves. As Paul says, “You . . . who teach others, do you not teach yourself?” (Romans 2:21). If we don’t want to be like the Pharisees, we need to believe and experience what we are teaching to others. We don’t need to be perfect in our faith or good works, but we do need to spend time reminding (even teaching!) ourselves what we believe and why, and then share our personal experiences of these truths with others in order to offer genuine and effective instruction.

2. Draw from the best resources.

For all her theological aptitude, Hutchinson was not a professional theologian. She did not even go to university because of the laws and societal norms of her day. Even still, Hutchinson was able to become skilled in theology because she supplemented her personal Bible reading with some of the best theological resources available to her, including the writings of John Calvin, John Owen, and the Westminster divines.

Like Hutchinson, all of us can become good disciplers if we have the right tools — we do not need to be officially trained or paid. If we want to fulfill the Great Commission to “make disciples” and teach “them to observe all that [Jesus has] commanded” (Matthew 28:19–20), all we need to do is use the abilities God has given us (Romans 12:6) alongside the wisdom God has given to others.

3. Let suffering strengthen resolve.

Finally, Hutchinson persevered through many struggles in order to teach Barbara. Perhaps we picture great thinkers from history cozied up on the couch, tea in hand and dog on lap, writing their magnum opus. The reality, however, is that many of these thinkers, including Hutchinson, wrote in the midst of waking nightmares. Yet such trials did not stop them from passing down the faith. In fact, in many cases, suffering had the opposite effect, creating the right emotional environment to spur them on to communicate the truth with intensity and clarity.

After losing so much, Hutchinson must have felt even more keenly her duty to fortify Barbara’s faith. Suffering did not make her hopeless; rather, it created endurance and character as she passed on the faith for her family’s future (Romans 5:3–4).

Right now may feel like the wrong time to devote yourself to teaching. Maybe your children are small, and you can hardly get through the day. Maybe a family member is ill. Maybe someone in your family has lost a job or you are in the middle of an international move. While there are times to work and times to rest, it is important that passing on the faith within our families does not get put on a permanent back burner.

Reminding ourselves of the greatness of Christian love and the example of Hutchinson’s motherly love can spur us to pass on the faith even when we feel weighed down by life or unqualified for the task. Whatever our circumstances or qualifications, God can use us to strengthen the faith of others, especially as we ask him to strengthen our own.

Audio Transcript

John Piper has preached a couple thousand sermons in front of a few hundred thousand people around the world. Only the Lord knows the true count. Whatever the exact numbers, it’s a lot of sermons in front of a lot of people. And a young preacher wants to know, Pastor John, how your preaching has been critiqued over the years. Here’s his email.

“My name is Aaron and I’m a very new preacher from Australia. Pastor John, I have read your book Expository Exultation. And I found it thoroughly helpful. My question for you is this. In your early years, and perhaps even now, what kind of criticism have you received for your preaching? In particular, have you received feedback in regard to your volume, how loudly you preach sometimes? I love your passion, but have people ever given you feedback, teaching you to adjust your tone, dynamics, and expression? What did you do with the criticism? And what have you learned from it over the years?”

I’m laughing because I can remember some really funny feedback.

Aaron asks about the loudness, tone, and dynamics, but let me broaden this out and give you ten criticisms that John Piper’s preaching has received over the years, and how I’ve tried to respond to each. It includes what he’s asking, but it also includes more.

1. ‘You’re too loud.’

Number one is the reason I was laughing. Char Ransom — bless her heart, she’s with Jesus now — was one of my great cheerleaders in my early years as a pastor at Bethlehem. She told me about fifteen years into my ministry, “I liked the early John Piper.” I thought, Uh-oh, and asked, “Well, what do you mean, Char?” She said, “The teacher, not the shouter.” Now, she said it with a twinkle in her eye, and she was a loyal listener for another fifteen years, but I tried to take that to heart and do what I have told so many young guys to do.

By all means, let your affections show if they’re real, but be sure they correspond to the realities of the text, and be sure they are varied, because any single sustained tone or loudness will start to grate on the ear and sound artificial after a while if it’s not varied. So, cultivate variety, authenticity, and appropriateness to the text and to the audience. I don’t think she ever thought I got it right, but some people can love you in spite of things.

2. ‘Your voice trails off.’

Early on, my wife said, “You drop your voice at the end of sentences, Johnny. People can’t hear the end of your sentences.” And that was true. I listened. I think that’s true for a lot of young pastors — they get into a bad habit. It was simply a bad habit. It wasn’t any constitutional inability. It was just a learned quirk that needed fixing, and I think I was able to overcome it (at least, she hasn’t said anything about that for twenty years or so). So, thank you, Noël, for good advice. Wives are often your best critics.

“You’re not looking at all the parts of the congregation. Your eye contact with significant segments of the people is nonexistent. You seem to look at these two or three directions, but you neglect this part of the people. You neglect that part of the people. You don’t look at the balcony.” Now, that was extremely helpful, and I knew it was true as soon as they said it.

For a new preacher, just getting the content right is a huge challenge, right? And there’s not a lot of mental resources left over to think about, “Oh my goodness, where am I looking?” But with a bit of effort and the relaxation that comes from experience, you can overcome that. Then it can become second nature to naturally look everywhere during your preaching.

4. ‘You overuse words.’

“You overuse certain words.” This is my wife again, and she’s the key critic here. This was a recurring issue over the years. I didn’t solve this. I don’t know that you ever solve this (at least I don’t). She has to tell me this every few years. “You use unbelievable too often.” “You use absolutely too often.” “You use precisely too often.” “You use amazing too often.” Now, those would be criticisms separated by three or four years.

“We will all be criticized. There is a way to take all of it to heart in some measure and make it part of improving.”

I suppose this is why I am so insistent for young preachers to give serious thought to finding fresh ways of saying things, because often young preachers think that if they can just say what comes naturally, they’ll sound fresh. That’s a lot of bologna. They won’t sound fresh; they’ll sound like they’re in a rut. We default to our natural ways — to familiar words. And familiar words start to sound hackneyed, which will communicate to the people, “He’s not really seeing fresh beauties in the Bible and in Christ. He just says the same old stuff over and over again.”

5. ‘You sound angry.’

“You sound angry.” Really? Yikes! I don’t want to sound angry. I’m not angry. I’ll even say, “I’m not angry.” “You sound angry when you say you’re not angry.” Well, that’s the way it comes across. At one point, I remember, I had to stop listening to Martyn Lloyd-Jones — I love Martyn Lloyd-Jones — because he did sound angry. I kept listening to him and thinking, “From my American ears, this growling Welshman sounds angry.” He’s not angry, but he sounds angry.

So, I made a conscious effort to pray, “Lord, fill me with real, authentic joy and humble amazement at grace, and let that spill over. Don’t let me be angry or let me sound angry.” In other words, I think the best way to push out bad sounds is not mainly to try not to sound a certain way, but to sound a better way because you really feel that better way.

6. ‘You use jargon.’

“You use words people don’t know.” What? People don’t know obsequious? People don’t know parsimonious, pusillanimous, lascivious? Well, of course they don’t. So, get real, Piper. Do you want to impress, or do you want to communicate? I want to communicate. So, I tried to fix it. And now I’m a real stickler with our seminary guys when it comes to taking their academic jargon into the pulpit. Use ordinary language.

But I do believe that there is a place for teaching words — words that would be good for people to know that they might not ordinarily know. Words like propitiation, expiation, redemption, sanctification, glorification, and lots of others that might not be part of people’s ordinary vocabulary. I think this can be done without sounding academic or too teachy in the pulpit.

7. ‘Your preaching is too complex.’

“Your message is too complex. It goes over our heads.” I can remember a couple telling me that my second year — maybe it was my first year — at Bethlehem, and they left the church. They just left the church. So, I have tried to work hard to make complex things more understandable. I think all the great truths in Scripture can be explained in understandable language — not necessarily acceptable language, but understandable — which leads to the next criticism.

8. ‘You have disproportionate emphases.’

“Your preaching is too oriented on the glory of God, too Calvinistic.” “It’s too out of step with contemporary culture on issues like sexuality and relationships of men and women.” “It’s too blunt and uncompromising on the sin of abortion.” And so on. Now, this sort of criticism only concerned me not because of the content — I wasn’t going to change biblical views to fit the audience — but because of the proportion. So, I tried to form the habit of checking my emphases and asking others to see if something was being emphasized that was good and true but maybe out of proportion with other things in Scripture.

9. ‘You lack application.’

“You don’t give enough application, Piper. You focus mainly on exposition, and not enough on application to real-life situations.” And my response to this has probably been inadequate. In fact, Tony, I wonder if ten years of Ask Pastor John is my way of doing penance for all those years without ten minutes of application at the end of the sermon. I’m catching up.

If I were to try to defend myself, I would say something like this — and maybe it’s inadequate: I try to do exposition itself in such a way that, even as I do it, it feels like application. It feels relevant to real-life situations. Whether I’ve succeeded, I don’t know.

10. ‘You preach too long.’

“You preach too long.” Lots of things affect the length of a sermon in the local church:

Wearing out your nursery workers. Poor nursery workers, down there waiting for this long-winded preacher to get done.
Managing the ebb and flow of parking. Say if you’ve got two services, you’ve got to get the parking lot cleared out.
The hunger of your people. Can they take it?

And my response to this criticism of length has been that I will try to keep my finger on the pulse of the people and all those other considerations, and not expect or demand more of my people than they can gladly receive (as well as all those other factors). But in general, I have found that it is hard for me to do adequate, faithful exposition week in and week out in less than 45-minute messages. And the folks seem to relax into that routine with pleasure.

So, what I hope Aaron hears in all of this is that we will all be criticized. There is a way to take all of it to heart in some measure and make it part of improving over a lifetime of preaching.

“What is the appropriate age to baptize believing children?”

Here’s a question that’s been asked more than a few times by Baptist pastors and churches seeking to be faithful to Scripture and responsible in their discipleship. Broadly speaking, you might take one of two positions: either you baptize believing children upon a credible profession of faith, or you delay baptism until they’ve matured as individuals — whether that means they pass subjective milestones (e.g., understanding or increased independence) or objective milestones (e.g., moving out from under their parents’ authority).

The tension has existed for centuries because Scripture doesn’t give us a simple and neat answer key — but it also doesn’t leave us without any direction.

What Is Baptism?

As with many disagreements, the first critical step is to get the question right. In this case, before wading into any issues related to the practice of baptism, we should ask, What is baptism anyway?

For more than three centuries, the first paragraph in chapter 29 of the 1689 London Baptist Confession has articulated the fundamental conviction of believer-baptism:

Baptism is an ordinance of the New Testament, ordained by Jesus Christ, to be unto the party baptized, a sign of his fellowship with him, in his death and resurrection; of his being engrafted into him; of remission of sins; and of giving up into God, through Jesus Christ, to live and walk in newness of life.

“Baptism is a sign of the believer’s faith-union with Jesus.”

In short, baptism is a sign of the believer’s union with Jesus by faith. It is a sign for those who are in Christ, and in order to be doubly clear, the second paragraph of chapter 29 tells us who qualifies for such a sign: those who actually profess repentance toward God, faith in Jesus Christ, and obedience to him as Lord.

The three words mentioned here — repentance, faith, obedience — are the ingredients that contribute to that good Baptist phrase “credible profession of faith.” The little adjective credible means more than simply believable. In light of the confession, we might say a credible profession is one that appears genuine because of discernible repentance, positive faith, and practical obedience — markers that we can reliably, but not infallibly, read. This inevitably determines how we practice baptism, and these three elements are so essential in one’s profession that our local church (along with many other Baptist churches) reflects each of them in baptismal vows.

Unadorned Union with Jesus

As an example of baptismal vows, our local church has our pastors ask the baptismal candidate three questions just prior to immersion in the triune name:

Are you now trusting in Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins and the fulfillment of all God’s promises to you?
Do you renounce Satan in all his works and ways?
Do you intend now, with God’s help, to obey the teachings of Jesus and to follow him as your Lord, Savior, and Treasure?

Previously, the pastor has met with the baptismal candidate and discerned a genuineness of faith. Then, through these questions, he invites the candidate to extend this profession to the watching congregation, showing himself to be among the “only proper subjects of this ordinance.” The baptismal candidate makes his profession by simply answering “I am,” “I do,” and “I do” to these questions.

These direct questions and simple answers are meant to be straightforward and plain, not requiring the candidate to have public-speaking skills or theological acumen, but only what is sufficient to convey a manifestly genuine faith. This is why, following the candidate’s three affirmations, the pastor declares, “Based upon your profession of faith, I baptize you . . .”

In the moment of baptism, it should be clear to everyone that the immersed individual is appropriately receiving the ordinance as one who is in Christ. The sign of the believer’s faith-union with Jesus, conveyed in the moment of immersion, is the “featured presentation” of the baptism, and so we administer the ordinance with unadorned simplicity (without need for video assistance, strobe lights, or confetti cannons).

Getting the Question Right

As straightforward as the ordinance may be, the biggest challenge comes in how pastors might discern a manifestly genuine faith in someone who is emotionally immature or inexperienced in life, such as a child — which gets back to the question at hand.

“Remember, you are attempting to discern genuine faith, not maturity.”

Asking how we discern genuine faith is the best way to approach the question of when to baptize believing children. To start with the question, “What is the appropriate age to baptize believing children?” may get us off on the wrong foot if it already assumes that a church may delay baptism to a believer, a practice for which Scripture gives no example and which the theology of baptism does not allow.

Discipleship concerns aside, I believe that hindering baptism to believers on the basis of age (rather than the inadequacy of a credible profession) is as sub-biblical and systematically compelled as paedobaptism. It seems especially strange in light of Jesus’s words regarding children, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder [kōluō] them” (Mark 10:14), and the Ethiopian eunuch’s question, “What prevents [kōluō] me from being baptized?” (Acts 8:36). As we answer the latter question, we cannot disregard what Jesus himself says.

So then, how might a pastor recognize discernible repentance, positive faith, and practical obedience in a child who claims Christ and desires baptism?

Discerning Genuine Faith

In most cases, the process of discerning genuine faith, as best we can, involves pastors conducting a “baptism interview” with the candidate. A similar kind of interview would apply to a believing child, except that pastors should also consult with the child’s believing parents. (I recommend that pastors employ the assistance of the child’s Christian father in the interview if possible.)

Without duplicating a template for these interviews in the present article, pastors should keep in mind at least three key principles.

1. We are attempting to discern genuine faith, not maturity.

The first line of questions for the child should be related to positive faith. These would be questions essential to understanding the gospel: Who is Jesus? What is sin? What does God think about sin? Why did Jesus die? Where is Jesus now? How do we know about any of this?

One might call these basic grammar questions. The pastor is looking for evidences of faith that go beyond inferences of natural revelation. While the pastor doesn’t expect the child to recite the Nicene Creed, he is looking for more than vague references to a “higher power.” We want to see if the child has an understanding — childlike as it will be — that our knowledge of God comes from the Bible, and we’re not free to just make up what we believe. Common sense may be our best tool here. In some of the answers, the child might giggle or say something silly or look over at his dad for help. That doesn’t mean the child is unregenerate; it means he is a child.

Because the child’s life experience is so short, we shouldn’t expect the testimony to be a Damascus Road page-turner. Rather, we’re looking for the child to have a sense of the wrongs he has done — white lies, harsh words with siblings, refusal to share toys, and the like. The pastor should help children connect the dots that these sins (commonly tolerated as they are in the lives of many adults) are actually in the service of Satan himself, and our faith in Jesus means we renounce the devil (as stated in many baptismal vows).

This is where the presence of the child’s father in this interview can be especially helpful. While some might think involving a parent provides a crutch for the child’s profession and spoils the process, it actually becomes a line of deeper accountability. In questions related to repentance and obedience, imagine having the same interview with an adult candidate in the presence of someone who has basically observed the candidate’s entire life. We don’t need the children to act like adults, but to manifest genuine faith as children.

2. Address false assurance with robust discipleship.

Many churches delay baptism for believing children because they want to avoid giving false assurance of salvation to an unregenerate child. While I understand the concern, I think there is a better way to address it, and one that doesn’t require us to sidestep the pattern of baptism in the New Testament. In general, rather than churches making it difficult for anyone to take the first step of obedience to Jesus (through baptism), they should make it difficult for individuals to take steps away from Jesus.

The antidote for false assurance is not sub-biblical hurdles to baptism, but thick community within the local church and a culture of discipleship. The members of the church should know one another. This doesn’t require that every member know every other member well, but that every member is known well by many, having been plugged into discipleship structures that encourage shared stories and openness. Local churches can build a culture where it’s hard to not walk in the light. And cultures like this, together with regular teaching and resourcing from the word of God, will go further in preventing false assurance than forbidding a believing child from the baptismal waters (not to mention the Lord’s Table).

3. Pastors should recognize their worst-case scenario.

Our consideration of this topic would be served if pastors and churches checked our worst-case scenario right away. What is the worst we can imagine — that we accidentally give an unregenerate child false assurance? That we unhinge baptism and church membership? That we allow immature persons to become church members? Or is it that we hinder baptism to a person who is regenerate and genuinely manifests that reality?

I believe only one of the scenarios above is expressly unbiblical. As Peter once put it, “Can anyone withhold water for baptizing these people?” (Acts 10:47). What is hindering pastors from hindering believing children to do what should not be hindered? That is the real question.

Regardless of where your church lands on when to baptize believing children, any tensions related to faithfulness to Scripture and responsible discipleship are worth facing. And more than that, the fact that there are individuals in your church, and especially children, who are turning to Jesus is something for which to give thanks. Such is God’s will.

In a day like ours, you could scarcely ruffle more feathers than by suggesting that women should be quiet. To many, the words squeal and crunch like a car wreck. They caw like birds from some barbarous past. Many would prefer the sound of a foghorn at close range.

The recoiling isn’t entirely unjustified. In many places and times, quietness has been forced upon women unkindly, undeservedly, indefensibly. Women, who share the sex of lady Wisdom herself (Proverbs 9:1–6), have often had their words muffled, their intelligence hushed, their needed counsel dismissed. The world has known (and still knows) many Nabal-like men, who live foolishly beside an Abigail unheard.

Yet at some point, even in a day like ours, we find ourselves confronted with the words of Peter and Paul:

Let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious. (1 Peter 3:4)

Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness. (1 Timothy 2:11)

I write, of course, as a man — a fact perhaps frustrating to some. But I write as a man who has spied glimmers of this hidden beauty and has understood in such moments why God calls it “very precious.” I find myself falling quiet before this heavenly hush, this imperishable calm. I am, in short, an admirer of quietness, hoping with a few words to win more.

Consider with me, then, the endangered virtue of womanly quietness.

Quietness Reconsidered

Explore the Bible’s teaching on quietness, and you may notice some surprising features.

You may notice, first, that despite female-specific applications in 1 Peter 3 and 1 Timothy 2, God commands and commends quietness for both sexes. In the Old Testament, for example, we read of the mighty David calming and quieting his heart (Psalm 131:2), of sages urging quietness as the way of wisdom (Proverbs 29:11; Ecclesiastes 4:6; 9:17), and of God’s whole people clothed with quiet strength (Isaiah 30:15).

The apostles likewise lay quietness on both men and women. “Aspire to live quietly,” Paul tells the Thessalonians; he later exhorts the idlers in the church “to do their work quietly” (1 Thessalonians 4:11; 2 Thessalonians 3:12). And then, a few sentences before his command that women “learn quietly,” Paul offers the following reason to pray for the powerful: “that we [men and women] may lead a peaceful and quiet life” (1 Timothy 2:2). As with submission, both men and women are called to be quiet, even if the call takes different shapes.

And then, second, you may notice that the adjectives adorning quietness in Scripture differ greatly from those our society might use. Ask many today to list words they associate with quietness (especially female quietness), and you get the impression of gray aprons and baggy blouses: weak, passive, inert, insignificant, marginalized, oppressed. But when you consider Scripture’s own associations, you find a different dress indeed:

fearless (1 Peter 3:6)
hopeful (1 Peter 3:5)
peaceful (Isaiah 32:17–18)
precious (1 Peter 3:4)
imperishable (1 Peter 3:4)
strong (Isaiah 30:15)
content (Ecclesiastes 4:6)

“Quietness is not first about the mouth but about the heart.”

In the hush of a growing garden, some may hear only the sound of aching silence, while others hear the pulsing of quiet life. Which brings us to a third observation, less obvious than the first two but just as crucial: quietness is not first about the mouth but about the heart.

Calm and Quiet Heart

No doubt, when Peter and Paul called women to learn quietly and adorn themselves with a quiet spirit, they had the mouth in mind. Paul expounds “learn quietly” with the words, “I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man” (1 Timothy 2:12). And Peter describes a quiet woman as winning an unbelieving husband “without a word” (1 Peter 3:1). So, quietness certainly has implications for speech: in some situations — under the preaching of the word, in wise submission to a husband — quietness will lead a woman to speak little or not at all.

Yet quietness goes deeper than decibels — far deeper. In 1 Timothy 2:2, Paul’s “peaceful and quiet life” means not a silent life, but a life calm and well-ordered, “godly and dignified,” a life that advances God’s kingdom without clamor. Peter likewise speaks of “the hidden person of the heart” and a “quiet spirit” — the inner outfit of a woman who hopes in God and fears him only (1 Peter 3:4–6). Quietness concerns a woman’s spirit more than it concerns her speech.

In the scriptural background, Isaiah describes quietness as the sound of a soul returning and resting in God (Isaiah 30:15), while Zephaniah attaches it to a heart hushed beneath God’s song of love (Zephaniah 3:17). And then, in Proverbs, we catch the nature of quietness by contrast, as we listen to the voice of a woman decidedly unquiet: woman Folly.

Loud and Wayward

When Solomon tells us woman Folly “is loud and wayward” (Proverbs 7:11), he’s showing us a woman not merely brash in mouth, but disordered, rebellious, and unsubmissive in heart — hence why the NIV renders loud as “unruly.” Her noisy tongue wags from her noisy spirit; her shouting words offer the transcription of her shouting soul. Close her mouth, and woman Folly remains loud.

By contrast, we hear quietness in the figure of lady Wisdom — despite the fact that she speaks, and sometimes loudly (Proverbs 1:20–21; 9:1–6). For her words, measured and wise, are so many streams flowing from a heart that fears the Lord (Proverbs 9:10). She speaks “noble things,” for her heart is noble; she utters “what is right,” for her soul is right with God (Proverbs 8:6). Even as she opens her mouth, she remains quiet.

We might describe quietness, then, as the atmosphere of a heart at peace with God and its place in his world. Calm and well-ordered, a quiet woman hopes in God and knows herself cared for by him. And then, from that place of spiritual strength and repose, she decides when to remain silent and when to speak.

Her actual volume will be shaped, in part, by her personality and culture (and not wrongly). But whoever she is and wherever she lives, a quiet woman seeks to adorn her words with the same gentle glory that clothes her hidden heart. From a meek and quiet spirit, she breathes out Godward beauty.

Loudest Kind of Quiet

Lady Wisdom has many quiet daughters throughout the biblical storyline, “holy women who hoped in God” (1 Peter 3:5) and who silenced sin and Satan through the beauty of a quiet life. Peter points us to Sarah, whose quiet submission to Abraham made her the mother of many nations (1 Peter 3:6). Alongside her, we might mention Ruth and Hannah, Abigail and Esther, Elizabeth and Mary, among others — women whose quietness spoke a louder word than the voice of woman Folly.

Study such women, and you will not come away with a sense of sniveling inferiority, as if they were any less mighty than the men beside them. Ruth joined meekness with a bold request to Boaz — and became David’s great-grandmother as a result. Hannah mixed quiet love for Elkanah with a mighty life of prayer — and under God, her secret words shook the world.

Abigail, tactful and reserved toward a most unworthy man, quietly rescued his life and won a name among the wise. And then, of course, we dare not forget how our Lord entered the world through a woman who answered the angel with a quietness more commendable than Zechariah’s: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

“A quiet life under God is itself a weapon, a danger, a threat to the kingdom of darkness.”

Such women suffice to show that quietness does not mean standing on the sidelines of life, walking through the world without making a whisper of difference. It means, rather, refusing to believe that the noise of self-assertion is the best way to get God’s work done. It means trusting that a quiet life under God is itself a weapon, a danger, a threat to the kingdom of darkness ever blaring with the uproar of sin.

Her Hidden Beauty

Perhaps till now we have heard the word quietness and thought only in negative terms: Quietness means not speaking, not teaching. Quietness is absence and hollowness, a vacuum and a hole. The apostle Peter could hardly have described quietness more differently: far from an empty nothing, quietness is an adorning: “Let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit” (1 Peter 3:4).

When we hear quietness, we ought to imagine not the absence of speech, but the presence of calm and peace, of fearless hope and endless beauty. And we ought to dress quietness in the brightest, most wonderful colors we have, for though hidden from our sight, the heart of a quiet woman holds the attention of heaven. The only voice that ultimately matters calls quietness “very precious,” imperishably beautiful.

And when one day God cuts the volume from this noisy and clamorous world, the quiet woman will remain, her beauty no longer hidden.

If we want to be faithful followers of Jesus, we need to pay careful attention to our habits. Because we hand over much of our lives to our habits, much more than we probably realize.

James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, describes a habit as “a behavior that has been repeated enough times to become automatic” (44). Neurologically speaking, habits are “mental shortcuts learned from experience,” behaviors that our “conscious mind [passes off] to our nonconscious mind to do automatically” (46).

Now, take a moment and consider how many actions you’ve taken today while your conscious thoughts were focused on something else. Did you get dressed? Did you eat? Did you tie your shoes or a necktie? Did you apply makeup? Did you operate a smartphone? Did you walk through a cluttered room without breaking anything? Did you drive a vehicle or ride a bike? Did you do so on a busy street? If you were to log, for a week, all the simple and complex tasks you do that require little to no conscious awareness on your part, you would be amazed. And you’d come away with a deeper appreciation for the massive influence your habits wield on your life.

Behaviors that become automatic, ones we stop noticing after they become habitual, are powerful — for good or for ill. Which is why it’s important for us to occasionally take notice of them. And all the more because the benefits or consequences of our habits compound over time.

Compounding Power of Habits

Clear explains the compounding power of habits:

The same way that money multiplies through compound interest, the effects of your habits multiply as you repeat them. They seem to make little difference on any given day and yet the impact they deliver over the months and years can be enormous. It is only when looking back two, five, or perhaps ten years later that the value of good habits and the cost of bad ones becomes strikingly apparent. (16)

For people like us, who like fast results from our efforts and immediate gratification of our cravings, this is a sobering discovery. It helps explain why we often struggle to stick with new resolves. It also helps explain why we formed many of our bad habits in the first place (and why we find them hard to break). If we look to short-term outcomes to measure our success, we’ll likely be discouraged. Because, as Clear says,

Your net worth is a lagging measure of your financial habits. Your weight is a lagging measure of your eating habits. Your knowledge is a lagging measure of your learning habits. Your clutter is a lagging measure of your cleaning habits. (18)

And I would add that your spiritual health and growth and fruitfulness are lagging measures of your spiritual habits. Acquiring good habits and breaking bad ones require patience, perseverance, and faith — exercises that yield many and varied benefits themselves.

“Goals get us nowhere without the good habits required to achieve them.”

We’ve all been taught that if we want to achieve something, we need to set goals. In principle, that’s true. Yet how many goals have you set that have gone unachieved? Why didn’t they work for you? In part, because defective systems trump good aspirations. In other words, your habits undermined your goals. Goals get us nowhere without the good habits required to achieve them.

Building a Habit in Four Steps

So, how do we build the habits required to achieve the prize we desire? And how do we break habits that are impeding our pursuit?

When it comes to habit-building (and breaking), there isn’t just one way. Clear, however, provides four helpful steps he’s gleaned — first from his very difficult experience after suffering a serious head injury, but also from extensive research in the neuroscience of habit formation. The four steps are cue, craving, response, and reward. Clear describes how they work together like this:

The cue triggers a craving, which motivates a response, which provides a reward, which satisfies the craving and, ultimately, becomes associated with the cue. Together, these four steps form a neurological feedback loop — cue, craving, response, reward; cue, craving, response, reward — that ultimately allows you to create automatic habits. (50)

Understanding how this “habit loop” works also helps us when it comes to breaking bad habits.

Below, I attempt to concisely take Clear’s general insights and help us see how we can benefit from them as Christians. Keep in mind that these steps merely describe strategies for habit-making and breaking from the neurological perspective. For Christians, forming habits will always involve more than neuroscience: it will involve faith in God’s promises, joy in Christ, and reliance on the Spirit. So, as you read, exercise your ability to take common-grace knowledge and apply it for spiritual purposes.

1. Cue

Every habit we develop begins with a cue, something that “triggers your brain to initiate a behavior” — a behavior your brain associates with a desired reward (47). Hunger is an obvious example; it’s a cue to eat. Over time, we develop lots of cues around eating: certain times of the day, certain places, certain events, certain activities, certain moods, and so on.

The same is true of all our habitual behaviors. Seeing the television remote, the Bible on the table, the phone notification, the running shoes, the vending machine, the prayer list, the sensual image — all these can become behavioral cues.

Make good cues obvious: When it comes to creating a good habit, we need to identify new cues that our brains associate with the desired behavior and then think through ways to make the cues more obvious to our brains. Clear suggests we fill out the sentence “I will [BEHAVIOR] at [TIME] in [LOCATION]” and then place cues strategically as brain triggers (71). With repeated practice over time, our brains will associate these cues with the beneficial behavior.

Make bad cues invisible: Breaking bad habits also can begin by removing cues that prompt detrimental behavior. Clear says, “Many people think they lack motivation when what they really lack is clarity” (71). So, he advises us to look for these unhelpful cues and write them down. Then think through ways to reduce or eliminate the kind of “sight” that triggers our brains.

Let me give you a personal example of changing cues. Because I decided I wanted to set my mind on things above before going to sleep, instead of “things that are on earth” (Colossians 3:2), I decided to charge my smartphone in another room (removing a cue that triggers my undesired behavior) and set my Bible or a spiritually edifying book on my nightstand (inserting a cue that triggers my desired behavior).

2. Craving

The power of a cue is that it produces a craving. Clear points out that a craving is

the motivational force behind every habit . . . [because] without craving a change, we have no reason to act. What you crave is not the habit itself but the change in state it delivers. (48)

In other words, when we think we crave a soda or cigarette or sitcom or social media plunge, it’s not really those things we crave. What we crave is the pleasure or relief our brains associate with those behaviors. In fact, researchers have found that typically more dopamine is released in our brains when we anticipate the pleasure than when we actually engage in the behavior.

Make good cravings attractive: When it comes to creating and sticking with a good habit, willpower isn’t enough. Our brains must learn to associate a new behavior with a craving — the anticipation of the behavior producing some reward. Ideally, the ultimate goal this behavior helps us achieve provides sufficient motivation. Often, at first, we need to find creative ways to make the behavior itself attractive until our brains more clearly associate the behavior with our ultimate goal.

Make bad cravings unattractive: When it comes to breaking a bad habit, again, the inverse is true. We need to teach our brains to stop associating a learned detrimental behavior with a craving for pleasure. We do this by explicitly rehearsing the ways the behavior actually works against our greater pleasure until our brains interpret it as an undesirable and unattractive means of pleasure.

Any of us who’ve tried to change our eating habits in order to drop weight or promote better bodily health understands the importance of these two strategies. Because given how persuasive cravings can be, if we didn’t find creative ways to enhance the attractiveness of healthy foods and decrease the attractiveness of unhealthy foods before our brains made the craving switch, we most likely reverted back to our bad habits.

3. Response

A craving pushes us to respond in a way that will achieve the desired reward. When a particular response is repeated enough times (depending on a number of factors, this might be few or many times), it becomes a habit (like drinking a soda, smoking a cigarette, watching a sitcom, or plunging into social media).

Make good responses easy: When it comes to creating a good habit, “simply putting in your reps is one of the most critical steps you can take” (144). Of course, some habits are easy to establish, while others are very challenging. Either way, “much of the battle of building better habits comes down to finding ways to reduce the friction associated with our good habits” (155). We need to look for ways to minimize obstacles and increase convenience when it comes to desired behaviors. We all know that the easier a behavior is, the more likely we are to do it.

Make bad responses difficult: When it comes to breaking a bad habit, we do the opposite. As Clear says, “When friction is high, habits are difficult” (158). So, we need to look for ways to “increase the number of steps between [us] and [our] bad habits” (213). This is where recruiting accountability partners and restricting our future choices by “burning bridges” are often helpful.

I have a dear friend who put this strategy into practice. A number of years ago, he was actively fighting a sinful habit of viewing online porn, but his job required him to be frequently online. So, he subscribed to a service developed by a Christian ministry that tracked his online behavior and made it visible to his accountability partners. Making it more difficult and painful to indulge his destructive habit helped him break free from it.

4. Reward

In the end, the only reason we develop a habit is to pursue a reward. As Clear says,

The cue is about noticing the reward. The craving is about wanting the reward. The response is about obtaining the reward. (48)

“Christ is a reward for whom it’s worth building and breaking every habit necessary to obtain.”

As Christian Hedonists, we say amen! We believe that the ultimate reward of every good habit — great or small, easy or difficult — is to increase our satisfaction in God. That’s why Paul sought to “discipline [his] body and keep it under control” (1 Corinthians 9:27), so that he could “press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:14). Paul was pursuing the great, imperishable Reward: that he might “gain Christ” (Philippians 3:8). And Christ is a reward for whom it’s worth building and breaking every habit necessary to obtain.

As I mentioned earlier, in this fallen age our brains don’t always make the association between a particular habit and our ultimate reward. And so, “immediate reinforcement helps maintain motivation in the short term while [we’re] waiting for the long-term reward to arrive” (192).

Make it satisfying: When it comes to creating a good habit, we are wise to look for ways to make it feel as rewarding as it is. Because “we are more likely to repeat a behavior when the experience is satisfying” (185). And since “one of the most satisfying feelings is the feeling of making progress” (204), creating or using some kind of habit-tracker can provide the kind of incentive to keep us going.

Make it unsatisfying: When it comes to breaking a bad habit, you can probably fill in the answer yourself: find ways to make it costly. Again, inviting an accountability partner to monitor your behavior and/or committing to an undesirable consequence can provide enough disincentive to avoid the harmful behavior.

Habits Are Allies or Enemies

Why have I given so much space here to habits? Because of the massive influence they wield in our lives. And because they do so largely outside of our conscious awareness. When our habits serve our goals of living in a manner worthy of our calling and gaining Christ, they are invaluable spiritual and physical allies. When they impede those goals, they are spiritual and physical enemies. Given the compounding effects they have on us over time — for good or for ill — we are wise to occasionally take notice of them so that we can make the necessary adjustments.

I hope what I’ve covered encourages you to think more about your habits, and that you go on to learn more from what both Scripture and neuroscience have to teach you. Because I’ve only just scratched the surface. Habits are complex, affected by our genes, our temperaments, our experiences, our family and friends, our churches, our cultures, our health, our preferences, our strengths and weaknesses, our unseen spiritual influences, and more.

We’ve all been given a race of faith to run. And if we run faithfully with endurance, laying aside every encumbering weight and sin, we are promised a glorious, incomparable, imperishable, eternal prize: Jesus Christ. Paul exhorts us to “run that [we] may obtain [him]” (1 Corinthians 9:24). So, we take our habits seriously. Because they influence the way we run — for good or for ill.

Audio Transcript

If you live in the prosperous West, you are blessed like very few people ever have been in the history of the world. A glut of digital technologies abound, like the chain of technology we are using right now to communicate with one another. More importantly, things like infant- and child-mortality rates are lower than ever. Life expectancy rates have peaked and are projected to keep rising. Here in America, few if any die of starvation. Famines are unheard of here. Motor-vehicle fatalities have been in steep decline for the past fifty years — same with plane-related deaths. Poverty rates in the States have plummeted in the past fifty years. National GDP continues to go up and to the right. Life is as safe as ever. We are some of the most comfortable people who have ever existed. And all these blessings together raise questions for Christians, who are promised that they will suffer in this life.

A listener named Marissa is trying to work this out. “Hello, Pastor John. I am leading a Bible study through 1 Peter right now. And as you know, Peter makes it very clear that Christians will suffer, just as Christ did. I’m curious how we Christians suffer in a first-world country like America, where we are not physically persecuted for our beliefs. I don’t think I have ever really suffered for the sake of Christ. Feelings get hurt on social media — there’s a cultural pushback, of course — but I’ve never lost anything of value in this world due to being a Christian. Does this make me a weak, or a lazy, Christian? Or should I simply thank God for the rare peace I have enjoyed in this age?”

This is such an important question for those of us who live in what, without exaggeration, we could call the Disney World of the nations. Even the poor in America, by comparison, live in luxury, compared to six hundred million extremely poor people with no access to adequate food, shelter, medical care, clean water, education — not to mention the saving message of Jesus. One of the reasons I live where I live in a poorer part of Minneapolis is because I dread becoming oblivious to the brokenness and the neediness of the world.

So, here are five things that I see in the Bible to give guidance to those of us who live in relative comfort and security and wealth.

1. Press more deeply into the darkness.

Both Jesus and the apostles said that if we are faithful Christians, we will experience some measure of persecution and other kinds of suffering in the path of obedience. Paul said in 2 Timothy 3:12, “All who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.” They will be. Jesus said in Matthew 10:25, “If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household.” In John 15:20, he said, “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.” And Paul taught in Acts 14:22, to every new believer, “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.”

If we never taste any affliction or persecution or maligning for Christ’s sake, we probably are not pressing into the darkness of the world for Christ as far as we should.

2. Walk the path of self-denial.

Jesus calls us to a kind of death to our old selves into a new life of joyful self-denial — not morose self-denial, not self-pitying, but joyful self-denial. “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:24–25). So, we don’t just wait for others to persecute us and take away our pleasures and privileges and securities. Instead, we voluntarily make choices that deny ourselves some of these things freely, willingly, joyfully in order to serve others.

“There is a Christ-exalting self-denial, and there is a Christ-exalting enjoyment of God’s gifts.”

Jesus said in Luke 6:27–28, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Doing good — actually doing things — for those who hate you is costly. You might say it is a freely chosen embrace of being disliked. Whether it’s outright persecution or not, it demands self-denial. Doing good to other people who don’t like us is hard. It’s costly. It’s like persecutions, like affliction. There is always someone to bless in this world, someone who doesn’t like you, who would be easier not to bless.

3. Learn the secret of facing plenty.

Paul said that he had learned not only how to be abased, but also how to abound.

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:11–13)

Paul did not say it was a sin to abound or a sin to face plenty. He said it takes a certain learning, a certain God-given secret, not to sin when you face plenty, not to sin in need. And not only that, he said in 1 Timothy 4:4–5, “Everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God and prayer.” In other words, self-denial is not the only way we honor God with the good things of life. Thankful enjoyment is another way. In 1 Timothy 6:17–18, he said,

As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share.

So, there is a Christ-exalting self-denial, and there is a Christ-exalting enjoyment of God’s gifts.

4. Pursue love, not pain.

Don’t pursue pain; pursue love no matter the pain. Freely chosen self-denial or unchosen persecution is never an end in itself. The aim is love. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Corinthians 13:7). “Love does no wrong to a neighbor.” Love blesses. Love praises. Love does good. Love serves. “Therefore love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:10). Therefore, pursue love — love for people, not pain. There will be pain enough.

5. Live to make Christ known.

Finally, yes, God has given most of the developed countries, east and west, a season in these centuries of spectacular wealth and leisure and comfort and health and peace and security. Why has he done that? What’s the meaning of this providence? And I think the answer is in Psalm 67: “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us . . .” And here’s the answer: “. . . that your way may be known on earth, your saving power among all nations” (Psalm 67:1–2). “The earth has yielded its increase; God, our God, shall bless us. God shall bless us” (Psalm 67:6–7).

“Don’t pursue pain; pursue love no matter the pain.”

And then he closes the psalm by telling why. Why has he blessed us? Why will he bless us? “Let all the ends of the earth fear him!” (Psalm 67:7). God has made America and the West and parts of the East wealthy and healthy and secure, so that we would not lay up treasures here on earth, but use our freedom and our wealth and our peace for the sake of reaching the nations with the message of salvation (Psalm 67:4–5).

Stand up for this. Work for this, and you will find enough resistance — in yourself, in your church, in the world — that you won’t have to worry too much anymore that being a Christian is too easy.