I wake up hungry every morning. So do you.

We may or may not awake with empty stomachs, but deeper down, our souls growl ferociously. However much we try to satisfy that hunger elsewhere, and however many live in denial, God made our souls to hunger for him, and feed on him.

We want when we awake — and want and want and want. Some turn immediately to breakfast. Others dive right into an electronic device or screen. Some roll over and try to wrestle a little more joy from sleep. Yet the hunger remains. And that is no accident. God made us to start each new day with this ache — as a call to turn afresh to him.

Great Discovery of 1841

In his much-acclaimed autobiography, George Mueller (1805–1898), who cared for more than ten thousand orphans in England throughout his ministry, tells of a life-changing discovery he made in the first half of 1841.

In a journal entry dated May 7, he captures the insight he stumbled into that spring. The entry is one long paragraph of 1,500 words that rewards careful and multiple readings.

Over the years, I have read it again and again and seem to profit from it more each time. Mueller’s life-changing insight has proved significant in my own life. As I again reread this journal entry in recent days, I noticed several distinct aspects of this one lesson, which could be identified and sequenced to benefit readers today.

In short, Mueller’s great discovery was that “the first great and primary business to which I ought to attend every day [is] to have my soul happy in the Lord.” What a find! Just about any other duty would land as burdensome, but “get happy”? That is a deeply refreshing task.

Mueller restates the point as “the first thing to be concerned about was . . . how I might get my soul into a happy state.” The discovery is set against the backdrop of other things that are not his, and your, first calling: “not how much I might serve the Lord,” not setting the truth before the unconverted, not benefiting believers, not relieving the distressed, not behaving in the world as fits a child of God. None of these real, critical callings is “first and primary.” None of these is “the first thing.” Most important is not pouring out but first filling up. First thing first: get your soul happy in God. Find happiness in him. Obey your hunger for God and feast.

But then we ask, How? How does hunger lead to happiness?

Feed on God

Mueller answers that hunger becomes happiness as we satisfy our empty souls on God — which implies a certain kind of approach to God. We come to get, not to give. Many human satisfactions come from various deeds and achievements. Others come through reception of goods or honor. Still others come through the intake of food and drink. Among these other desires, God made our souls to long for such consumption — to receive God as food, to take and chew and savor. And to receive him as drink, slake our thirst, and revel in the satisfaction.

So, Mueller clarifies his lesson: “The first thing the child of God has to do morning by morning is to obtain food for his inner man.” He draws on the language of both nourishment and refreshment (as well as being “strengthened”). He approaches God, he says, “for the sake of obtaining food for my own soul,” and as he lingers in God’s presence, he tries to “continually keep before me that food for my own soul is the object of my meditation.”

Next, we might ask, Where? Where do you turn to find such food for your soul?

In His Word

Mueller’s answer — simple, and unsurprising, yet profound and transformative — is the word of God. To make sure we don’t miss it, he asks the question for us and answers it: “What is the food for the inner man? Not prayer, but the word of God.”

“Hunger becomes happiness through satisfying our empty souls on God.”

Now we pick up a vital part of the lesson. Mueller says that for years his practice was to awake and go straight into prayer. It might take him ten minutes or even half an hour to find enough focus to really pray. He then might spend “even an hour, on my knees” before receiving any “comfort, encouragement, humbling of soul, etc.” He had the goal right: get my soul happy in God. He had the direction right: come to feed on God. But he had the posture wrong. Or he had the order wrong. The lesson he needed to learn was come first to hear, then to speak. That is, first hear God’s word, then pray in response.

In God’s word, “we find our Father speaking to us, to encourage us, to comfort us, to instruct us, to humble us, to reprove us.” God’s word nourishes and strengthens the soul. His word leads, provides, warns, steadies. Then in prayer, we speak to God in response to what he’s said to us in his word.

Through Meditation

At this point, we might assume we know how to take in God’s word: just read it. After all, that’s what you do with a written text, right?

Mueller has one more clarifying word, and it might be his most important for us today: “not the simple reading of the word of God . . . but considering what we read, pondering over it, and applying it to our hearts.” In other words, he feeds his soul on God’s word through what he and many other great saints have called “meditation.”

This meditation is a crucial aspect of the lesson, and for us, almost two centuries later, it increasingly has become a lost art.

Mueller’s first mention of “meditation” clarifies what kind of reading he means: “The most important thing I had to do was to give myself to the reading of the word of God, and to meditation on it.” He then makes plain that meditation concerns the heart. Mere reading might fill the head, but meditation aims to comfort, encourage, warn, reprove, instruct, and feed the heart.

He doubles back to explain what he means again. “Meditate on the word of God” includes “searching as it were into every verse, to get blessing out of it . . . for the sake of obtaining food for my own soul.” Having chewed on one bite and savored it, “I go on to the next words or verse, turning all, as I go on, into prayer for myself or others, as the word may lead to it, but still continuously keeping before me that food for my own soul is the object of my meditation.”

He comes back once more to say he means “not the simple reading of the word of God, so that it only passes through our minds, just as water runs through a pipe, but considering what we read, pondering over it, and applying it to our hearts.” This series of three verbs may be the most help he gives us as to how we might meditate ourselves and not simply read.

Mueller would have us slow down, pause, and reread so that we might consider what we read, ponder over it, and apply it to our hearts — that is, not only or mainly to our practical lives but first and foremost to our inner person, to our hearts.

Such a deliberate, affectional reception of God’s word naturally leads us into prayer.

Then Prayer

Now, don’t think Mueller, in this life-changing lesson, is eschewing or marginalizing prayer. Rather, by putting prayer in its proper place (in response to God’s word), he helps prayer flourish.

Having heard from God in his word, and considered it, pondered over it, and applied it to my heart, “I speak to my Father and to my Friend . . . about the things that he has brought before me in his precious word.” Meditation soon leads to a response — in fact, “it turned almost immediately more or less into prayer.” The time when prayer “can be most effectively performed is after the inner man has been nourished by meditation on the word of God.” Now, having heard our Father’s voice all the way down into our souls, we find ourselves able “really to pray,” and so to actually commune with God.

Communion with Jesus

You’ll find in Mueller’s May 7, 1841, journal entry that “meditation and prayer” is for him synonymous with the phrase “communion with God.” To commune with God is not only to address him in prayer, nor is it simply to hear from him in his word. Communion involves both his speaking and ours. This is a Father-child relationship. God speaks first in his word, and we receive his words with the hunger, delight, and unhurried pace that fits the word of our Father and divine Friend. Then we speak humbly yet boldly in response, adoring our God, confessing our sins, thanking him for his grace and mercy, and petitioning him for ourselves, our loved ones, and even those who seem like enemies.

This hearing from God and responding to him Mueller calls “experimental [that is, experiential] communion with the Lord.” With “my heart being nourished by the truth,” he is “brought into experimental fellowship with God” in meditation and prayer. And not only with God the Father but “the Lord” Jesus, the risen, reigning Christ, seated on heaven’s throne, dwelling in us by his Spirit, and drawing near to commune with us through his word and our prayer.

Afterword

Several times, Mueller emphasizes that such communion with God is never a means to ministry and feeding others, yet God often appoints leftovers. Such early-morning meals, deeply savored in the soul, may “soon after or at a later time” prove to be “food for other believers,” but this is not the goal. Fodder for ministry is not the first and primary business each day, but food for our own souls. The point, and prayer, is soul-satisfying communion with the risen Christ.

Such a hungry and hedonistic approach to each new day was life-changing for Mueller. And it gave him the help and strength, he says, “to pass in peace through deeper trials, in various ways, than I had ever had before.” This approach has been significant for me too. Perhaps it will be so for you as well. As Mueller exults, “How different when the soul is refreshed and made happy early in the morning!”

Audio Transcript

What future judgment will Christians face? The apostle Paul, writing to a church of believers, said to them, “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:10). To Christians he said that. And he included himself — “we must all appear”! In another place, he interrogated Christians by asking them, “Why do you despise your brother?” Despising other believers is ridiculous. Why? “For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God,” again speaking of believers and including himself here — “we will all” (Romans 14:10). Those pointed texts arrest our attention and cause us to think about a future judgment to come for Christians. So, no surprise, come loads of questions to us about these and other texts, like this email from a listener named Mae: “Pastor John, can you explain what kind of judgments Christians will face when Jesus returns?”

Well, let’s start with the absolutely glorious news about the judgment that we will not face. I mean, the accomplishment of Christ in dying for us and rising for us can be stated positively and negatively. Positively, he died to “bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18). The enjoyment of the presence of God forever is the positive achievement of the death of Jesus and the resurrection of Jesus.

No Longer Under Wrath

But the New Testament reminds us over and over again that we can state the good news negatively as well as positively — namely, we do not come under the wrath of God. He achieved a negative thing. This is not going to happen. Christ bore our sins. We won’t be punished for them. John 5:24: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has [that’s now] eternal [that’s forever] life. He does not come into judgment” — whoa — “but has passed from death to life.” What a verse.

That doesn’t mean we don’t go to court in the last day. It means we won’t be condemned in court in the last day. We’re already acquitted, and the court will prove it. Romans 8:1: “There is . . . now” — and forever — “no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Or Romans 8:33: “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.” There will be no successful charge against us at the judgment — none. First John 3:14: “We know that we have passed out of death into life.”

“If we are believing in Jesus, his death was our death. His punishment was our punishment.”

So, the judgment of wrath and punishment and final death are passed. They’re over for us. Jesus endured all of that for us if we are in Christ. If we are believing in him, united to him, his death was our death. His punishment was our punishment. God’s wrath was exhausted on him toward us. Therefore, Paul exults (with the verse I go to sleep on almost every night), “God has not destined us for wrath” — sweet — “but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him.” I love those two verses. That’s 1 Thessalonians 5:9–10.

How God Judges Christians

So, if there is a judgment that will not condemn Christians, what other kind of judgment is there for us? That’s what’s being asked, I think. There is a dimension to the judgment that does not call into question our eternal life but determines what varieties of blessing or reward we will enjoy in the age to come.

And I know this can be disturbing to some people because “varieties of rewards” sounds like some people are going to be happy and others are not. But it’s plain from the Bible: there will be no unhappiness in heaven — none — no unhappiness in the age to come. Everyone will be as happy as he can be — all tears wiped away in the presence of the all-satisfying God (Revelation 21:4). But some people will evidently have greater capacities for happiness or greater avenues of happiness. Now, why do we think that? Why do we talk like that? We talk like that because the Bible teaches that we will stand before the judgment seat of Christ and we will be rewarded differently, yet everybody will be perfectly happy. That’s why we talk like that.

Remember Jesus’s parable? For example, the king goes away and then he returns, and he gives different rewards to those who invested his money differently. This is Luke 19:16–19. The first servant came to him, saying, “Lord, your mina . . .” Now, a mina is one hundred drachmas, and a drachma is about the price of a sheep. “Your mina has made ten minas more.” And he said to him, “Well done, good servant! Because you have been faithful in a very little, you shall have authority over ten cities.” And a second came to him saying, “‘Lord, your mina has made five minas.’ And he said to him, ‘And you are to be over five cities.’” Now, that’s a picture, I think, of differing rewards in the last day of how we stewarded our lives for Christ in this world.

Paul said in 1 Corinthians 4:5, “Do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God.” So, the judgment will take into account our heart motivations, not just our outward deeds themselves.

In Ephesians 6:8, Paul says one of the most amazing things about the final judgment for believers. He says, “Whatever good anyone does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether he is a bondservant or is free.” In other words, every single large or tiny good thing you have ever done as a Christian, whether any other human knows about it or not, will come back to you for good at the last day. “Whatever good anyone does, this he will receive back from the Lord.” What a great incentive not to worry about who sees us in what we do or what rewards we get in this life. Everything’s written down, and God will make sure that any good deed we’ve ever done, seen or unseen, will be properly rewarded.

God’s Response to Our Evil

Then in 2 Corinthians 5:10, Paul says, “We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.” And that last word, “evil” — whoa! What does that mean? The new question that text raises is, What does Paul mean when he talks about us receiving what is due for evil things we’ve done? Now, if our sins are forgiven, which they are, and we’re acquitted in the court of heaven, which we are, does this mean there will be punishment to Christians for sins they’ve done? That doesn’t make sense, right? No, it doesn’t mean that.

I think Paul explains what he means in 1 Corinthians 3:11–15. It’s a very familiar text, but let me suggest this angle on it.

No one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw — each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day [that is, the day of judgment] will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.

What I think Paul meant when he said in 2 Corinthians 5:10, “each one [will] receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil” — what he meant was that the way one receives evil is by having his bad deeds burned up, meaning, he loses the reward he would have received if he had acted otherwise. This is not viewed by Paul as punishment but as loss of reward. It’s not owing to God’s wrath against his child. Mark that: It’s not owing to God’s wrath against his child. It is simply a fact that it would be unfitting for God to reward the sins of his children. They know that, we know that, Paul knew that.

Now, mark this: True Christians, when that happens — when some of their life is burned up because it was worthless — when that happens, true Christians will not begrudge God for this loss. They will rejoice in the grace that they do receive, and their cup of blessing will be full.

So, that’s my sketch of the coming judgment. We will not enter into condemnation or punishment, but we will receive varieties of blessing, varieties of reward, different avenues of joy, different sizes of cups — but every cup full.

Saul stands as a controversial first king in Israel’s history.

At times, he fought valiantly against the Philistines and judged them on behalf of the Lord. At other times, we see a man selective in his obedience. Still at other times, we see him with a King Lear paranoia, hurling spears at David, raging at his daughter, and threatening to kill his own son. He had the Spirit, and he had the Spirit taken away; he had the kingdom, and he had it torn from him; he ascended to the throne and then was violently cast down.

King Saul was worthy of death and worthy of song honoring him at his death. When Saul and Jonathan fall together in battle, David, the victim of Saul’s demon, leads Israel in the dirge: “Your glory, O Israel, is slain on your high places! How the mighty have fallen!” (2 Samuel 1:19).

He is a conflicted character in the storied history — more like Boromir (we hope) than Smeagol. We can sympathize with him. He never asked to be king, after all; he hid from the crown behind the baggage. Though a head taller than everyone else in Israel, he seemed small in his own eyes. Most know the temptation to feel unequal to the task and tiny before others.

I want us to learn from his origin story. How did Saul, an unassuming Benjamite from the humblest clan of the least tribe, ascend to the throne once reserved for God himself? In this article, I want to remind you of the meticulous sovereignty of our gracious God, his care then and his care now, and his ordering of seemingly irrelevant details to further his great name and our great good. Saul stumbled onto the throne at the end of a long search for donkeys.

Scene One: Out with the Old

In 1 Samuel 8, Israel has just asked Samuel to find them a human king so they might be like the nations. Samuel is getting old; his sons are taking bribes; why not catch up to modern times and find a human king? Samuel tries to reason with them, yet Israel will not be moved, no matter the cost.

“Obey the voice of the people in all that they say to you,” the Lord tells Samuel, “for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them” (1 Samuel 8:7). Samuel relents and sends the people home. Where is he to find this new king?

Scene Two: Lost Donkeys

The next verse introduces us to Saul’s father, Kish. A wealthy man of Benjamin, his son is the handsome giant of Israel: “From his shoulders upward [Saul] was taller than any of the people” (1 Samuel 9:1–2). But the first domino falls rather unexpectedly: “Now the donkeys of Kish, Saul’s father, were lost. So Kish said to Saul his son, ‘Take one of the young men with you, and arise, go and look for the donkeys’” (1 Samuel 9:3–4).

Saul and his servant pass through territory after territory but fail to find them. Saul wants to return: “Come, let us go back, lest my father cease to care about the donkeys and become anxious about us” (1 Samuel 9:5). But before they turn, an idea just happens to come to the servant’s mind: “Behold, there is a man of God in this city, and he is a man who is held in honor; all that he says comes true. So now let us go there. Perhaps he can tell us the way we should go” (1 Samuel 9:6). Saul asks what gift they might offer the man for his help. “Here, I have with me a quarter of a shekel of silver, and I will give it to the man of God to tell us our way” (8). Persuaded, Saul goes forth to meet the man who would make him king.

Now, here is what should amaze us. Rewind to the previous day:

Now the day before Saul came, the Lord had revealed to Samuel: “Tomorrow about this time I will send to you a man from the land of Benjamin, and you shall anoint him to be prince over my people Israel. He shall save my people from the hand of the Philistines. For I have seen my people, because their cry has come to me.” (1 Samuel 9:15–16)

Behold the God of meticulous, donkey-dispersing sovereignty. A God who brings forth a king from a nobody wandering after lost beasts of burden. A God who brings along just the right companion to bring him into his destiny. And a God, not just of meticulous sovereignty, but of meticulous mercy. Did you catch it? “I will send to you a man. . . . He shall save my people from the hand of the Philistines. For I have seen my people, because their cry has come to me.” This God has no equal. When rejected as king over the people, he nonetheless sees and hears their cries and brings his replacement to deliver them.

“Trusting God to govern our lives quiets many anxieties and affords much peace.”

At any point, the plan could have aborted; yet it couldn’t have, because at every point the Lord guided the plan. He told Samuel to expect Israel’s deliverer “tomorrow about this time” — and in stumbles the clueless Saul from stage left. When Samuel sees Saul, the Lord tells him, “Here is the man of whom I spoke to you! He it is who shall restrain my people” (1 Samuel 9:16–17).

Providence, Not Puppetry

Can’t we be reminded of God’s minute orchestration in Saul’s life and learn how to better read our own stories?

First, consider the nature of our God’s “sending” of Saul to his fate. From lost donkeys, to the right servant chosen, to the idea about going to Samuel for help — these were finely tuned secondary causes (or means) used by the First Cause to fulfill his will and achieve his ends. Westminster helps us understand the mysterious interplay: “Although, in relation to the foreknowledge and decree of God, the first cause, all things come to pass immutably and infallibly: yet, by the same providence, He ordereth them to fall out according to the nature of second causes, either necessarily, freely, or contingently” (5.2).

In other words, the Lord sent Saul to Samuel, not by taking over Saul’s mind and puppeteering him against his choices, but by creating the precise circumstances (secondary causes) to guide his will this way and that. As God guides the stream of a king’s heart, so he directs the steps of kings-to-be (Proverbs 21:1). So, over the same event, it can be spoken: Saul chose to obey his father and search for the donkeys and go to the man of God, and God sent him to Samuel. God placed the walking stones that he knew Saul would freely step upon to bring him to Samuel. I will send to you a man from the land of Benjamin.

Lost in the Fields

Saul remains a controversial first king in Israel’s history. I do not know whether those lost donkeys led him down a path that ended in eternal life. God will judge. But we do know that for his children, minute sovereignty is working for them, not against them, for their eternal good.

Apply this lesson to your own life, Christian. If we believe in this God of meticulous providence, we will put more confidence in him than in our meticulous planning. “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). We do our little planning, but if we know this God, we will mostly pray that he will establish our steps and keep us open to his many surprises along the way.

Trusting God to govern our lives quiets many anxieties and affords much peace. Think of it: isn’t the unfolding of our lives wrapped in mystery? One small step this way and not that, one thoughtless act, one unexpected conversation, one small tilt in the rudder, and all is changed. One insignificant donkey hunt ends in a throne. If left to navigate ourselves, ours are perilous waters below and a sky of shifting stars — we would be lost before morning. How vital for us not to play Captain: Lord, establish my way!

And praise be to God that he hears our cries and will deliver us, even after we once rejected him as King. Lay hold of the promise: “For those who love God all things work together for good” (Romans 8:28). And he will not merely wave the wand at the end of time and renew our shipwreck, but he is working all things for good now — even that thing you never chose. He surrounds his children with inescapable good — even though his providence can be hard and confusing, and we foolish and sinful. His promise to us shall not break.

You cannot see now how a path of pain or fields of pointlessness lead to eternal good, but he does. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6) — even when those straight paths follow wandering donkeys.

What is Look at the Book?

You look at a Bible text on the screen. You listen to John Piper. You watch his pen “draw out” meaning. You see for yourself whether the meaning is really there. And (we pray!) all that God is for you in Christ explodes with faith, and joy, and love.

Midway along the journey of our lifeI woke to find myself in a dark wood,For I had wandered off from the straight path.

Here at the beginning of the Inferno, Dante is lost in what he calls “a bitter place” and a “wasteland.” He has no hope of getting out of the dark and into the light until a guide approaches him, the Roman poet Virgil. As the story continues, they must travel down through the icy core of hell and then up through the other side until, finally, Dante makes it to the light he seeks — to Paradise.

Like Dante, along the journey of our life, many of us have unexpectedly found ourselves in a dark wood, a bitter place — the wasteland of discontentment. Somewhere, somehow, we wandered off from the straight path. We remember a time when we felt more satisfied, more whole, more at rest. We felt less inclined to grumble, to compare, to covet. But now, in this barrenness of discontentment, our thirst for more never seems quenched. Our hunger for different circumstances never goes away. No matter how “good” life is, we still feel generally miserable. How did we get into this wasteland in the first place? And how can we ever get out?

Happiness That Holds

At first glance, cultivating contentment can seem like a light topic. We may simply think, Yay! I’m going to be a happier person! But contentment reaches much deeper than that.

In The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, Puritan Jeremiah Burroughs describes contentment as a habit of heart that submits to and takes deep satisfaction in God’s wise and fatherly will in any condition. He bases this definition on the apostle Paul’s words in Philippians 4:11–13: “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. . . . I can do all things through [Christ] who strengthens me.” Both Paul and Burroughs recognize humanity’s diabolical ability to be discontent in any circumstance — in plenty or hunger, in abundance or need. The remedy they offer is not a change of circumstances, but a contentment that is built upon something far more stable than the changes and chances of this fleeting world.

When we talk about contentment, we’re not talking about picnics and puppies. We’re talking about real enemies and spiritual armor. True contentment isn’t light, like a helium balloon. It’s weighty, an anchor that holds us fast through storms and deep waters. Godly contentment doesn’t rise and fall with our circumstances; it stands on the faithfulness of God. It isn’t wishful thinking; it is faithful feeling and living, rooted in the all-sufficiency of Christ (Philippians 4:11–13).

And that means discontentment is worse than we may have realized.

Maker of Wastelands

In fact, discontentment goes back to the work of the devil himself. We wander into the wasteland of discontentment the same way Eve did, when a serpent slithered into paradise speaking lies and spreading doubt.

Surely, no woman had life as good as Eve did. She was the very first woman, made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). Along with Adam, she was blessed by God and given meaningful work to do: “be fruitful and multiply,” “fill the earth and subdue it,” and “have dominion” (Genesis 1:28–29). And God equipped her with everything she needed for the task: “every plant yielding seed and every tree with seed in its fruit” — all that was necessary for food and fruitfulness (Genesis 1:29–30). Everything God had made, everything God had blessed, everything God had given — everything was “very good” (Genesis 1:31). But a day came when it wasn’t good enough for Eve. Satan crept in and planted a lie that moved her restful heart to restlessness (Genesis 3:1–6).

Listening to the empty promise of more, Eve walked straight into Romans 1 and exchanged the truth of God for a lie. She exchanged satisfaction for craving, blessing for curse, life for death. She exchanged the garden for a wasteland.

“True contentment isn’t light, like a helium balloon. It’s weighty, an anchor that holds us fast through storms.”

Does this sound familiar, like we’ve been here before? No matter what we have, in our discontentment, we daughters of Eve always want more. God’s generous provision suddenly seems strangely insufficient, and we go searching for something else. Deep down in our discontented hearts, we think we are wiser than God, and we dare to tell him what is best for us. And like Eve, we return empty-handed every time. As the Puritan Thomas Watson said, “Oh, this devil of discontentment . . . whenever it possesses a person, [it] makes his heart a little hell!” (The Art of Divine Contentment, vi).

Discontentment makes a wasteland. A wasteland is a bleak, neglected place where nothing good grows. It is what happens when we fail to “tend and keep” the garden we’ve been given. We stand with clenched fists, demanding our own way instead of bearing fruit. Our hands and our hearts become barren.

‘Except If’ Obedience

What do we do when the “garden” of our circumstances is not what we asked for? Too often, we offer to God “except if” obedience. We’re patient and kind, except if the kids are up at night or we’re struggling to get out the door for school. We speak graciously, except if we’re stressed out. We rejoice in our trials, except if this is the second trial in one week. We do all things without grumbling, except if there is a real reason to complain. We trust God, except if we don’t understand what he’s doing.

Our “except if” obedience is really not obedience at all; it is the same rejection of God’s will that we see in Eve when she eats the fruit. We want to become like God by arranging our lives according to our own preferences instead of trusting and obeying God no matter what today holds. No matter what excuses we make for ourselves, at the heart of discontentment is our self-rule in competition with God’s rule. At odds with both our Creator and our circumstances, no wonder discontentment feels so miserable. The garden has become a wasteland.

Thankfully, in God’s economy, the wasteland can also become a garden. Streams flow in the desert (Isaiah 35:6), and those who trust the Lord are like green, fruitful trees even in heat and drought (Jeremiah 17:7–8). This is what happens when God’s will is done “on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). Earth, with all its chaos and confusion, becomes more like heaven when we contentedly get to work in the circumstances God has given us — however bleak they may seem.

Mother Mary Full of Faith

The skill and mystery and beauty of contentment is to want what we have been given, because we can do God’s will right where we are. Even the most difficult circumstances cannot ultimately prevent us from trusting God, rejoicing in God, and bearing fruit in faith, extending God’s garden in a wasteland world.

If our discontentment makes us like Eve, godly contentment makes us like Mary the mother of Jesus. Like a second Eve, she teaches us how to respond in faith to God’s revealed will. After receiving God’s word from Gabriel, she responds so simply: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Eve fell to the temptation to be like God, but Mary confesses she is a servant of God. Eve rejected what God had provided, but Mary accepts God’s will. Eve doubted God, but Mary takes God at his word. And God’s word bears fruit in her life.

Christian contentment makes us more than mere onlookers; it makes us participants in God’s kingdom. When we trust God like Mary did, we do the work of a gardener — we bear fruit! In God’s providence, our circumstances are not obstacles but opportunities to do his will right here, on earth as it is in heaven.

The Garden Virtue

In “The Contented Man,” G.K. Chesterton observes, “True contentment is a thing as active as agriculture. It is the power of getting out of any situation all that there is in it. It is arduous and it is rare.”

Contentment is not neutral, like a patch of bare soil with neither weeds nor fruit. True contentment allows us to roll up our sleeves, grab a spade, and get to work growing things.

One of the most beautiful fruits that grows in the garden of contentment is “no matter what” obedience. A contented woman is patient and kind no matter what’s going wrong. She rejoices in trials no matter how many there are. She trusts God no matter what. Her speech is filled with grace no matter what. She controls her thoughts and emotions no matter what. She gives thanks for these circumstances no matter what because she knows that these circumstances, even if not good in themselves, are working something very good for her. She has all she needs to do God’s will, right here in this house, in this neighborhood, in this family, in this suffering, in this joy. Let it be to her according to God’s word. She is content, and she bears fruit.

We are like gardeners, and our circumstances are our garden plot. Discontentment looks at that ground and sees only a wasteland. But godly contentment will gladly turn a wasteland into a fruitful garden — for God’s glory and for the life of the world.

I love Romans chapter 8. If you’re a Christian, I imagine you love it too. What Paul so beautifully describes rings with a hope we recognize, a hope that resonates deep within our souls and stirs longing for our far-off homeland, our heavenly one. In Romans 8, we catch glimpses of “the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18). I’m sure this is one reason John Piper says,

I think Romans is the greatest book in the Bible. I think Romans 8 is the greatest chapter in the greatest book in the Bible.

And I especially love the paragraph that spans verses 18–25. I’ve probably quoted from this paragraph in my writings more than from any other section of Romans 8. In these verses, Paul gives a peerless description of our paradoxical experience of hope-filled groaning in a creation still in “bondage to corruption” (Romans 8:21). We wait for “the freedom of the glory” God has promised us as his children, but we do not yet see it (verse 25). Which I’m sure is also one reason John Piper continues,

I won’t argue that [verses 18–25] is the greatest paragraph in the greatest chapter in the greatest book in the Bible, but it comes close.

Yes, it does. And I want to draw your attention to two marvelous parts of this paragraph that make it one of the greatest in the Bible.

Uplifting Pattern

First, notice the peculiar pattern of humiliation followed by exaltation Paul uses. We see it in the following verses:

“The sufferings of this present time” are followed by “the glory that is to be revealed to us” (verse 18).
“The creation . . . subjected to futility” is followed by its obtaining “the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (verses 20–21).
The groaning of the whole creation — and we ourselves — is followed by the completion of our “adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (verses 22–23).

For anyone familiar with Scripture, this peculiar pattern isn’t new. Humiliation followed by exaltation is laced all through the Bible.

We see it in Abraham, who “was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance” and ended up living “in the land of promise, as in a foreign land,” which God later gave to his descendants, just as he had promised (Hebrews 11:8–9).

We see it in Moses, who lived for forty years as a fugitive shepherd in Midian before God called him to deliver his captive people from Egypt.

We see it in David, who was subjected to Saul’s campaign of terror, pursued through the wilderness, before God gave him the kingship of Israel.

“We will not merely see the glory of God; we will be clothed with his glory.”

We especially see it in Jesus, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name” (Philippians 2:6–9).

Why Humiliation Before Exaltation?

But why? Why has God ordained that humiliation should precede exaltation, that suffering should precede glory, that futility should precede freedom, that groaning should precede redemption? Since God has innumerable purposes in everything he does, I’ll venture just one reason — a very significant reason for fallen humans: faith. For

without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. (Hebrews 11:6)

The reason God subjected the human race and all of creation to futility is because of human pride. But he offers forgiveness, reconciliation, and eternal redemption to all who are willing to humble themselves under his mighty hand through repentance and faith (1 Peter 5:6). As Jesus said, “Whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12).

But mere words of repentance and faith are cheap. True repentance and faith are proven by the fruit they bear (Matthew 3:8; Galatians 5:6). And nothing reveals the humbled, loving, faithful hearts of the redeemed children of God like the bewildering, disorienting, painful experiences of humiliation, suffering, futility, and groaning. Those who have the “the firstfruits of the Spirit” walk through these valleys and groan along with creation, yet they eagerly wait for their full adoption, showing themselves to be God’s true sons and daughters (Romans 8:23). In other words, we are saved by God’s grace alone through faith alone (Ephesians 2:8), but Christlike humility is necessary evidence that our faith is saving faith. Thus, humiliation must precede exaltation.

Free to Be Glorious

This brings us to the second marvelous part of this paragraph: the great promise that this age of groaning will end. Like all our forebears in the faith, those who compose the ever-growing cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1), we greet these future promises “from afar,” and in doing so “make it clear that we are seeking a homeland,” desiring “a better country, that is, a heavenly one,” and therefore God will “not be ashamed to be called [our] God” (Hebrews 11:13–16).

In other words, like our forebears, we groan in hope. “Though our outer self is wasting away,” and “we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling,” we do not lose heart (2 Corinthians 4:16; 5:2). For God has made a promise to us, of which the Spirit bears witness: our bodies will be redeemed, and we will experience in full “the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Romans 8:16, 21, 23).

Did you catch the wording of that last phrase? We are promised “the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” We will not merely see the glory of God; we will be clothed with his glory! Our new bodies will radiate his glory! We will experience something that, as C.S. Lewis put it, “can hardly be put into words — to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it” (The Weight of Glory, 42).

Just think of it: we will be free. Truly free. Not only will we be free from all the grievous effects of futility; we will be free from every vestige of pride, free from any temptation to be an idolatrous rival to God, free from all vainglorious impulses period. We will be free to be glorious! We will be free to bear and wear the glory of the children of God! And we will dance and sing and rejoice over how God answered Moses’s prayer beyond all that he could ask or think:

Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,     and for as many years as we have seen evil. (Psalm 90:15)

For the days of our glorious gladness will so outnumber the days of our affliction and the years we saw evil that they will be only distant and shadowy memories that enhance the gladness we experience. We will be free to be God’s glad, glorious children!

This is the hope we have in all our present groaning, and it will be the great reward of our faith.

For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. (Romans 8:24–25)

Yes, Lord, we believe and we will wait. But may this day come soon!

Audio Transcript

How much money does an American need to retire? That question was in the air this spring after the Wall Street Journal featured a piece by Andrew Biggs titled “You Don’t Need to Be a Millionaire to Retire” (April 18, 2024). In part, he wrote that “according to a new survey from Northwestern Mutual, the average American thinks he’ll need $1.5 million in savings to be financially secure in old age. If that were true, it’d be bad news. As USA Today recently reported, the average U.S. adult has saved only $88,400 for retirement. . . . Among those with [between] $50,000 to $99,999 in savings — a small fraction of what retirees are told they need — 3% found it hard to get by, 11% were just getting by, and 86% were either doing okay or living comfortably.” A big disparity here in the numbers.

Obviously, on this podcast, we don’t get into specific numbers, Pastor John. But you have fielded a lot of questions about retirement, as can be seen in the APJ book on pages 429–439. In building out this theme comes this question from Linda, a podcast listener who is in her late fifties. She wants to know if you have any guiding thoughts on this question.

“Pastor John, hello. Can you share any wisdom for thinking about how much money I should be putting away for retirement? I’m trying to balance being responsible in providing for my future, while walking in faith, and giving generously towards mission, beyond my tithe. I’m a natural saver but also have a tendency towards hoarding money that can be easily provoked when I read that I need to have $1.5 million dollars saved or invested before I can retire. I’ll never reach that level. What would you say to an American in my situation, about seven years from retirement age?”

I think the first thing I would say is that I’m not a trained financial planner, and I am sure there are aspects of finance that I don’t know about and don’t understand, and that, therefore, to give any specific counsel, especially at a distance, would be foolhardy. And I would add how deeply thankful I am that I have trusted advisers around me in my life to help me with these things. I’m not talking just now that I’m an old man and I need some guidance for the last chapter of my life and how to do finances here. I’m talking about all my life.

I remember sitting at the dining-room table with a financial planner — a good friend from our church, but a trained financial planner. I had four small children, and I was asking him to help me think through my financial responsibilities to my wife and children if I die. We did that kind of thinking at every stage of our lives because that need, that financial need, changes with every stage of your life. And you try to think through at every stage, How can I be a good father, a good steward, a good caregiver when I’m gone for my wife and my children if they are bereft of the earning person in this family? So, I certainly would encourage that for others. We all seek help from Bible-saturated, wise people who know the ropes in these things.

“Christians lean toward needs, not comfort. We relieve suffering, especially eternal suffering.”

Then, besides my own limitations, we need to be reminded that there are so many variables in people’s lives that no one solution, no one pattern of handling finances applies the same to everybody. There are family variables and geographic variables and cost-of-living variables and housing-option variables in different cities and health variables. Oh my goodness, there are just so many factors that feed into our planning for how to handle what little or more finances we may have. Everyone’s situation is unique.

So, what should I say to Linda, who is in her late fifties and wants to maximize her giving to missions now, and yet knows that it is probably wise to set aside money for the season when she will not be earning like she is now? And even before I answer that question, I can’t help but say in passing that I am aware that thousands of our listeners from less-developed countries around the world can’t even dream of some of the questions we are posing here because the economic and social structures don’t even exist that allow for this kind of financial planning. But I hope that these precious listeners of ours from around the world will hear underneath what I’m about to say some biblical principles that might apply (I hope do apply) in their situation.

Self-Sustaining Principle

Perhaps the most basic principle about supporting ourselves during the last quarter of our lives is that, inasmuch as possible, we should seek by God’s grace to be self-sustaining. Consider these verses from 1 and 2 Thessalonians:

2 Thessalonians 3:7–8: “You yourselves know how you ought to imitate us, because we were not idle when we were with you, nor did we eat anyone’s bread without paying for it, but with toil and labor we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you.” So, that’s what Paul says they should imitate.
2 Thessalonians 3:12: “Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living” — or literally, “to eat their own bread.”
1 Thessalonians 4:10–12: “We urge you . . . to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.”

So, I draw out from those passages the principle that, insofar as we are able, we should earn our own living, pay our own way. And I think that applies from the day we start earning to the day we die. And since we know that we will not be able to continue in some jobs because of mandatory retirement ages that are imposed upon us, and we will be prevented from earning our own living sometimes because of weakening bodies, therefore, we should plan for how we will obey this principle in the last quarter of our lives — namely, to be financially self-supporting. That’s an essential part of the biblical rationale for all the financial instruments that exist for paying ahead for that season of life.

Caregiving Principle

But it is manifestly obvious that millions of people here and around the world will outlive their ability to be independent. And so, the New Testament has another principle — namely, the caregiving obligations of family and church and then (by implication, I think) the social safety net that the wider community may create. So, here’s 1 Timothy 5:16: “If any believing woman has relatives who are widows, let her care for them. Let the church not be burdened, so that it may care for those who are truly widows.” In other words, they don’t have anybody, they don’t have any family to care for them, and the church is going to step in. “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Timothy 5:8).

So, where we are no longer able to be self-providing, God has ordained that families and churches step in. And I suspect that the existence of legally mandatory social security in the wider society is owing to deeply rooted Christian influence that says we won’t throw away our old people but find a way to care for them. I think it’s possible to participate in that system. I’m in it, and still believe that the family and the church have special responsibilities. If you feel like that needs more defense, we can do that at another time.

Ministry Principle

Another biblical principle I would stress is that the Bible has no conception of what Americans typically think of as retirement — that is, working for forty or fifty years and then playing for fifteen or twenty years: fishing, golfing, shuffleboard, pickleball, yard work, travel, hobbies, bucket lists, as if heaven was supposed to begin at 65 rather than death.

This principle relates directly to Linda’s concern about money for missions now and how it relates to her post-earning years. And the way it relates is this: If God is gracious in granting basic health, then wise planning for the last quarter of your life would mean that you keep on giving to missions. It’s not like “I do it now or I don’t do it,” but rather, you keep on from your fixed income. You just keep right on giving to missions. It may not be as much, but you do. And it’s a glorious thing to be able to give at least a little bit if your income is small. You don’t stop giving.

And even more important is this: In that season, that last season of your life, you are on a mission. You’re not stopping life and starting heaven. You are on a mission. You don’t just give to missions; you become missions. You don’t think mainly play; you think mainly ministry. As long as you are able, you lean toward meeting needs. That’s what you do. That’s what Christians do. They lean toward needs, not comfort. Heaven is comfort. This world is racked with pain, suffering, calamity, and needs, and that’s what we do. We relieve suffering, especially eternal suffering. You stay zealous for good deeds right to the end. You magnify Jesus by serving. Heaven is coming. It’s not meant to drag forward. We’re not meant to drag it forward out of the future into the present. It’s meant to sustain hope and ministry.

Now, I know these principles are very general, but I think if Linda and all of us were to think in these ways about the last quarter of our lives, God in his mercy would give us all the guidance we need about the details of financial planning.

One of the more difficult and controversial verses in the Bible is 1 Corinthians 7:14: “For the unbelieving husband is sanctified through his wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified through her believing husband; for otherwise your children are unclean, but now they are holy” (NASB 1995). Christians disagree about the implications of this verse for baptizing infant children. But before we enter that discussion, a word should be said about the context and the wider point of the paragraph.

Contagious Holiness

In 1 Corinthians 7:12–16, Paul addresses the question of mixed marriages, marriages in which one spouse is a believer and the other is an unbeliever. If we look at 1 Corinthians 7 as a whole, we see that matters of purity pressed upon the consciences of the Corinthian believers. Because of this, some of them naturally wondered if they should stay in a marriage with an unbeliever. Should a believer remain married to someone who belongs to Satan rather than God, who lives in darkness instead of light, who worships idols instead of the true and living God? Would it not stain believers to have a sexual relationship with someone who hates the Lord Jesus?

Paul’s answer is astonishing. We expect, based on the Old Testament, that he would say the believer would be defiled and stained by such a relationship with an unbeliever. Instead, Paul turns the argument in the opposite direction. The believing spouse isn’t defiled by the unbelieving partner. Quite the opposite! The unbelieving spouse is sanctified by the believer. And it doesn’t stop there: the children are holy as well.

We are reminded of Jesus’s relationship with what is unclean. We know from the Old Testament that touching a leper made someone unclean. Yet when Jesus touched the leper, he wasn’t rendered unclean. Instead, cleanness radiated from Jesus, and by healing the leper, Jesus cleansed him. We see something similar in 1 Corinthians 7. The holiness of the believing spouse transfers, at least to some extent, to the unbelieving spouse and to the children of their union.

Sanctified, Not Saved

A question immediately arises, however: What does it mean for an unbelieving spouse and the children of mixed marriages to be holy? Does it mean they are saved by virtue of their relationship with a believing spouse or a believing parent? If unbelieving spouses are sanctified, and the children of such unions are made holy, then it would make sense, on one level, to say they are saved. On the other hand, we know from Scripture’s teaching about salvation that people are not saved by mere association with believers. The Bible teaches plainly and pervasively that we are saved by personal faith in Jesus Christ. We have no basis for thinking that anyone is saved because he or she is married to a believer or the child of a mixed marriage.

In fact, Paul confirms in this very context that the unbelieving spouse isn’t saved merely by being married to a believer. Paul writes, “For how do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?” (1 Corinthians 7:16). Scholars debate whether this verse is optimistic or pessimistic about the spouse’s potential salvation. I agree with the optimistic view since the main point of this passage is that believing spouses should not forsake marriage to an unbeliever, and thus, Paul gives a motivation to continue in the marriage. At the same time, optimism isn’t the same as a guarantee. Clearly, by being married to a believer, the unbelieving spouse has a greater opportunity for salvation. Still, the unbelieving spouse is not saved simply because he or she is married to a believer.

So, we return to our initial question: What does it mean for an unbelieving spouse to be “sanctified” through the believing spouse? It is hard to be certain! Perhaps all we can say with confidence is that the unbelieving spouse, by being placed in the realm of the holy, has a greater potential for salvation through the believing spouse.

What About Their Children?

You may be wondering by now if I have forgotten the original question of this article. However, the preceding discussion is necessary to understand what it means when Paul says that the children of mixed marriages are holy.

“If there is no reason to baptize unbelieving spouses, there is no reason to baptize unbelieving children.”

Our Presbyterian friends often appeal to this verse in defense of infant baptism. Of course, infant baptism warrants a wider discussion than simply this verse, and readers are encouraged to consult this article by John Piper and Steve Wellum’s chapter on the matter in the book Believer’s Baptism: Sign of the New Covenant in Christ. Nevertheless, it is also important to consider this particular verse since the holiness posited of children here is often adduced as a defense for baptizing infants.

We see here that the children in a marriage are holy. Does this holiness justify baptism? There are no exegetical grounds in the context to think that it does. We noticed earlier that the unbelieving spouse is sanctified through the believing spouse. We also saw that the sanctification of the unbelieving spouse isn’t saving. Since the unbelieving spouse isn’t saved by means of the sanctification described here, there are no grounds for baptizing him or her. In the same way, the holiness of the children doesn’t qualify them for baptism.

Some may find significance in the fact that unbelieving spouses are “sanctified” and the children “holy.” But such an observation doesn’t carry much weight. The words “sanctified” and “holy” are in the same semantic range, and thus the word “holy” doesn’t signify that the children occupy a different realm than unbelieving spouses. To put it simply: if there is no reason to baptize unbelieving spouses, there is no reason to baptize unbelieving children.

In the Realm of the Holy

Paul is not suggesting or encouraging the baptism of infants or children who have not yet come to faith in Christ. Still, this text does offer encouragement for raising yet-to-believe children. They are in the realm of the holy. The presence of a believing parent gives one a greater hope that the child will turn to Christ for salvation. We don’t have a promise or guarantee of salvation, nor does Scripture give grounds for baptism before belief, but having a believing parent means that the child should be repeatedly exposed to the good news of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ.

Infants in a marriage between a believer and an unbeliever should not be baptized since baptism is reserved for those who believe. And yet, neither are such infants defiled and unclean, and in that we have hope.

We have a mission statement at Desiring God with several lines in it. The last line goes like this: “. . . grounded in, governed by, and saturated with the infallible Christian Scriptures.” That’s what we exist to be, and that’s what we encourage other ministries to be. So, one of the main reasons I’m here is that I believe Truth78 is one of those ministries — grounded in, governed by, and saturated with the infallible Christian Scriptures.

When the founders of this ministry, David and Sally Michael, were my colleagues in the ministry at Bethlehem Baptist Church (where we served for decades together), this was the glorious impact that they had on me and on the ministry to our children: everything was grounded in, governed by, and saturated with the infallible Christian Scriptures. They left a legacy not unlike that of John Bunyan.

Spurgeon loved the classic Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan. He loved it because it was grounded in, governed by, and saturated with the infallible Christian Scriptures. He said,

[Bunyan read the Bible] till his very soul was saturated with Scripture; and, though his writings are charmingly full of poetry, yet he cannot give us his Pilgrim’s Progress — that sweetest of all prose poems — without continually making us feel and say, “Why, this man is a living Bible!” Prick him anywhere — his blood is Bibline. The very essence of the Bible flows from him. He cannot speak without quoting a text, for his very soul is full of the word of God. (Autobiography, 2:159)

God-Centered Discipleship for Children

When David wrote us at Desiring God, asking me to come, he said,

My hope is that John will do what he has always done to validate the significance of faithful, God-centered, Christ-exalting, Bible-saturated, doctrinally grounded, mission-advancing discipleship beginning with the youngest of children.

The key to that long list of hyphenated phrases (that I love) is to realize that the phrase Bible-saturated gives rise to all the others. So, I want to try to pick one of those — namely “God-centered” — and reflect with you about its meaning, its rootedness in the Bible, and how ministry to children sheds light on it. In other words, it’s not only true that being God-centered shapes children’s ministry (which it does), but also that doing ministry to children shapes the way we think about God-centeredness. It goes both ways. Being God-centered shapes the way we do children’s ministry, and doing children’s ministry thoughtfully shapes the way we think about God-centeredness.

Beyond Contextualization

For example, what doing ministry to children clarifies for us is the limits of what’s called contextualization. Contextualization ordinarily means that you bring a truth to a culture or a group and you try to find some idea or practice or language in the group that would help make this truth understandable. Then you put the truth in the terms of something understandable in the target culture, all the while trying not to lose the truth. We all do this, for example, if we go to Germany and we have to use German in order to get our idea across.

But when children are the “target culture,” so to speak, what they make plain is that, to make truth about God understandable, we must do more than connect our ideas with concepts they already have. Because what we discover in their little minds — their glorious, Godlike little minds — is that they don’t yet have sufficient concepts for grasping many biblical realities. So, contextualization proves to be an insufficient method of communication. It’s important but insufficient. What needs to be added is this: concept creation. It’s not the adaptation of biblical reality to already-existing concepts but the actual creation in the mind of new concepts, new structures of thought, new ways of viewing reality.

Children are not unique in this regard. They are just a very special case. The Bible teaches that all human beings, apart from the renewal of the mind that comes through being born again, do not have the categories of mind for seeing reality for what it really is. For example, 1 Corinthians 2:14 says,

The natural person [what we are apart from the transforming effects of the Holy Spirit] does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned.

So, every pastor, every Sunday school teacher, and every parent has to deal not only with levels of mental maturity but with levels of spiritual capacity. There are important biblical realities that simply will not fit into the human mind until new concepts, new structures of thought, new ways of viewing reality are created by the Holy Spirit through parents and Sunday school teachers and pastors. This is what I’m calling concept creation. The ministry to children simply makes this necessity crystal clear.

We must so teach, and so pray, as to create categories of thought that don’t yet exist, so that strange and wonderful biblical realities will make sense.

Strange and Wonderful Truth

Let me mention a few of those biblical realities that don’t fit the natural human mind.

1. God rules the world, including the sins of human beings — like Pilate’s expediency, and Herod’s mockery, and the mob’s “Crucify him,” and the soldiers’ brutality (Acts 4:27–28) — yet in such a way that God does not sin as he governs sin.

2. God governs all the steps of all people, both good and bad, at all times and in all places, yet such that everyone is accountable before him and will bear the just consequences of his wrath if they do not believe in Christ.

3. Jesus Christ is one person with two natures, divine and human, such that he upheld the world by the word of his power while living in his mother’s womb.

4. The death of the one God-man, Jesus Christ, so displayed and glorified the righteousness of God that God is not unrighteous to declare righteous ungodly people who simply believe in Christ.

These kinds of mind-boggling, category-shattering truths demand our best thought and our most creative labors — especially when trying to communicate them to children (or at least to prepare children to someday be able to grasp them).

Biblical Defibrillator

Here is the way all this relates to my focus on God-centeredness. As I have tried to make a case for God-centered everything over the past fifty years, what I have found is that many Christians simply take that concept and fit it comfortably into their already-existing mental framework. They do not see how explosively contrary it is to things they hold dear but are in fact mistaken or out of proportion.

“Being God-centered shapes the way we do children’s ministry.”

I look at what the people do in worship, or preaching, or counseling, or teaching, or curriculum development for children, and I realize they don’t mean what I mean. They don’t mean what I mean by God-centeredness. It’s not having the same outcome. The phrase “God-centered” is fitting into a concept they already have, and it’s not the same as mine. I’m really not communicating.

So, I have felt that something more is needed here if communication is really going to happen. I really do need not just contextualization but concept creation. The reality I see is being adapted to another view of reality and being lost in the process, while the terminology remains the same.

What do you do to build into a person’s mind (adult or child) a reality that isn’t there? One strategy that I have used for many years is to state the reality I’m trying to communicate in such a shocking (and yet true) way that it requires either rejection or the biblical remaking of some part of the mind.

Let’s take our theme, God-centeredness, as an example. To awaken people to what I mean by God-centeredness, I have regularly used the phrase God’s God-centeredness. That phrase has a double effect. First, it’s strange: people have not used it. And second, it’s troubling: they don’t like it. Why is that? Because it implies that God does what he forbids us to do — namely, exalt himself and make himself central. It forces people to ask whether it might be right for God to do this but wrong for us to do it. And why might that be? And that is a very fruitful question. That might take us to glorious discoveries. Even our children will be troubled by the fact that God does things he tells us not to do.

So, what I’m trying to do is to create a concept, a view of reality called God’s God-centeredness, that does not yet exist in people’s minds (or in a child’s mind), so that when it takes root as fully biblical and beautiful, it makes all God-centeredness as radical as it really is.

Tour of Concept Creation

So, come with me, if you will, on a short biblical tour of how I have tried to do this kind of concept creation. This is what we have to do with our teachers in children’s ministry so that there is a trickle-down effect for the children as gifted teachers find age-appropriate ways of creating concepts in their minds.

There are about four stations on this tour.

Station 1: Awakening Through Provocation

I start with a provocative, shake-you-out-of-your-slumbers quiz to force people to face the issue of whether they will say God is God-centered or not. These questions could be adapted for different age groups, even for children.

Question 1: What is the chief end of God?
Answer 1: The chief end of God is to glorify God and to enjoy magnifying his glory forever.
Question 2: Who is the most God-centered person in the universe?
Answer 2: God.
Question 3: Who is uppermost in God’s affections?
Answer 3: God.
Question 4: Is God an idolater?
Answer 4: No, he has no other gods before him.
Question 5: What is God’s chief jealousy?
Answer 5: God’s chief jealousy is to be known, admired, trusted, obeyed, and enjoyed above all others.
Question 6: Is your enjoyment of the love of God mainly owing to the fact that he makes much of you, or is it mainly that he frees you to enjoy making much of him forever?

I press on these unusual questions because if we are God-centered simply because we believe God is man-centered, then our God-centeredness is in reality man-centeredness. But pressing the reality of God’s God-centeredness forces the issue of whether we treasure God because of his excellence or mainly because he endorses ours.

So, now people are agitated. The concept of God-centeredness isn’t fitting so neatly into their minds as they thought it would. They are troubled by the possibility that a way of thinking they’ve never dealt with might be true — namely, God’s God-centeredness.

Station 2: Validation Through Scripture

Now we flood the mind with Scripture about God’s God-centeredness. God’s eternal, radical, ultimate commitment to his own self-exaltation permeates the Bible. God’s aim to be exalted, glorified, admired, magnified, praised, reverenced, trusted, and enjoyed as a supreme treasure is seen to be the ultimate goal of all creation, all providence, and all saving acts. What I have found is that the following litany of God’s God-centeredness proves overwhelming to people, either winning them or losing them. Many professing Christians bury their heads in the sand of their own theological preferences and ignore the clear teaching of Scripture. But here’s what we find:

1. “He predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ . . . to the praise of the glory of his grace” (Ephesians 1:5–6 my translation).

2. God created the natural world to display his glory: “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1).

3. “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified” (Isaiah 49:3).

4. “He saved them [at the Red Sea] for his name’s sake, that he might make known his mighty power” (Psalm 106:7–8).

5. “I acted [in the wilderness] for the sake of my name, that it should not be profaned in the sight of the nations” (Ezekiel 20:14).

6. After the people sinfully ask for a king, Samuel says, “Do not be afraid. . . . For the Lord will not forsake his people, for his great name’s sake” (1 Samuel 12:20–22).

7. “Thus says the Lord God: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act [in bringing you back from the exile], but for the sake of my holy name. . . . And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name . . . And the nations will know that I am the Lord” (Ezekiel 36:22–23).

8. “[Christ] died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised” (2 Corinthians 5:15).

9. “God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that . . . every tongue [should] confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:9–11).

10. “I am he who blots out your transgressions for my own sake” (Isaiah 43:25).

11. “Whoever serves, [let him serve] as one who serves by the strength that God supplies — in order that in everything God may be glorified” (1 Peter 4:11).

12. “Immediately an angel of the Lord struck [Herod] down, because he did not give God the glory” (Acts 12:23).

13. “. . . when he comes on that day to be glorified in his saints, and to be marveled at among all who have believed” (2 Thessalonians 1:10).

14. “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory” (John 17:24).

15. “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Habakkuk 2:14).

Now, this Bible bath of God’s God-centeredness (God’s relentless self-exaltation) often creates a crisis, because people do not yet have a category for how God can be so self-exalting and still be loving.

Station 3: Clarity Through Objections

God’s God-centeredness is not megalomania because, unlike our self-exaltation, God’s self-exaltation draws attention to what gives us the greatest and longest joy — namely, himself — while our self-exaltation lures people away from the one thing that can satisfy their souls: the infinite worth and beauty of God in Christ. When God exalts himself, he is loving us. He is showing and offering the one thing that can satisfy our souls forever — namely, God.

Listen to how Jesus prays for us in his last hours in John 17: “He lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, ‘Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you . . .’” (John 17:1).

“Don’t underestimate how the Holy Spirit can use God-centered teachers to build glorious concepts into children’s minds.”

He’s asking God to glorify God by glorifying the Son. Then in John 17:24, he prays for us and draws us into this glory: “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory.”

Lest we think we might see him in his glory and not be able to love him and enjoy him as fully as we ought, he adds this prayer in John 17:26: “[I pray, Father, that] the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” In other words, “When they see my glory, grant them to love and enjoy it (me) with the very love and joy that you’ve had in me from all eternity.”

This is God’s radical and loving God-centeredness. And to receive it requires a profound, Holy Spirit–given concept creation, not just the adaptation of a biblical reality to a fallen, man-centered mind.

If a person has the greatest treasure in the world, and he wants to share it, most people would embrace that person as loving. But if a Person is the greatest treasure in the world, and he wants to share it, many people will reject him as an egomaniac. For that to change, the mind must be renewed. God is the one being in the universe for whom self-exaltation is the most loving act, since love offers what is supremely and eternally satisfying — namely, God.

Station 4: Awakening to Happiness

If God is merciful in shaping this new mental framework that we have seen in the Bible, people awaken to the fact that the pursuit of their happiness in God is, in fact, the fulfillment of God’s purpose to be magnified. God exalts himself as the all-satisfying treasure of the universe, and we magnify that greatness by, in fact, being supremely satisfied with him. God’s pursuit of his glory and our pursuit of joy turn out to be the same pursuit.

This is what Christ died for. First Peter 3:18 says, “Christ . . . suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God.” And what does he intend for us to find when we are brought to God as the greatest treasure in the universe? Psalm 16:11 says, “In your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

Children can get this. Don’t underestimate how the Holy Spirit can use God-centered teachers to build glorious concepts into their minds. You say to the first and second graders in your class,

Let me tell you a story about two brothers. One brother was sixteen years old and the other was just your age. He was seven. The younger brother liked his older brother a lot. He liked him so much that nothing made him happier than to spend time with his big brother. He would rather be with his big brother doing things together than anything else.

Now, the big brother knew this. He knew that he was the greatest treasure in his little brother’s life. He knew that he had great value in his little brother’s eyes. So, on his little brother’s birthday, he gave him a box about the size of a shoebox. In the box was a note that the older brother had written. His younger brother opened it and read,

Here’s a gift to make you glad,Nothing wrong, and nothing sad.The best I have, I’m sure you’ll see:A fishing trip, just you and me.

Then you ask the kids in your class, “Do you think the older brother was bragging when he said that the best gift he could give his little brother was to give him a whole day of fishing with his big brother?”

The need is very great for the next generation to be rescued as early as possible from the natural man-centeredness with which we are born.

In the days leading up to the death of my three-year-old son, Daniel, God deeply assured me of his gracious care for my family and me. One late night, I sat alone with my son in the intensive care unit, my Bible in hand. Knowing he had only a few days left, my heart was overwhelmed with grief. My chest felt constricted, as if the weight of impending loss were pressing down harder with each passing moment. I was desperate for a word from God.

Not knowing where to turn, I flipped open my Bible and found myself in Isaiah 53. My eyes immediately landed on these words: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Isaiah 53:4). Isaiah’s words washed over my anguished heart like gentle rain on parched soil, bringing much-needed relief and a renewed sense of God’s comforting presence in my distress.

But that late-night mercy didn’t last.

Several days later, when the hour of Daniel’s death arrived, my wife and I knelt by his bed, praying and seeking to comfort our son. My heart was heavy with grief, yet I trusted in God’s providence as I held Daniel’s arm and softly ran my fingers through his hair. But when his heart beat for the final time, I was shocked to find my comfort gone, leaving me “so utterly burdened beyond [my] strength that [I] despaired of life itself” (2 Corinthians 1:8). In the hours that followed, I wrestled with how the feeling of God’s nearness could so quickly give way to a sense of God-forsakenness.

How are we to interpret such paradoxical experiences? Assurance seems inseparable from God’s comforting presence, while doubt appears inevitable when we feel abandoned by him.

Always a Light

In The Lord of the Rings, as Sam and Frodo trudge through the desolate land of Mordor, burdened by the Shadow and on the brink of despair, J.R.R. Tolkien reveals a profound truth hidden within their hardship:

There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark [peak] high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. (922)

The lesson is clear: just as Sam found hope in the distant, once-hidden twinkle of a star, there is always a light — often beyond our immediate view — that points to a greater reality. Though sometimes concealed in “the forsaken land,” this light is no less real for being hidden. Like the star that pierced Sam’s despair, it reminds us that our suffering, though real and painful, is not the final word.

In the last days of my son’s life, I experienced what Paul calls “the sufferings of this present time” (Romans 8:18) — deeply harrowing trials that, though shrouded in darkness, are held within the sovereign care of a God who promises that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

Hidden Hope, Present Pain

Twice in Romans 8:18–19, Paul uses the word revealed. He first speaks of a glory that is not yet visible to us — a promise that remains hidden beyond our present sufferings (Romans 8:18). Then he describes creation eagerly awaiting the moment when the true identity of the sons of God will be made manifest (Romans 8:19). This dual emphasis on what is still concealed highlights the profound reality of a future glory we cannot yet see.

Paul tells us that both creation (Romans 8:19–22) and we ourselves (Romans 8:23) groan with longing for this unseen glory to be revealed. Our current suffering intensifies our yearning as we wait for the day when our identity as God’s children will be visibly manifested in glory.

What makes “the sufferings of this present time” particularly challenging is the tension between our current experiences and our hidden identity as God’s children. As believers, we are already adopted into God’s family (Romans 8:14–16), but the full revealing of who we are in Christ remains unseen (Romans 8:23–25). We live in an in-between, tension-filled time where our true identity as sons of God is veiled.

“Even when God feels distant, our secure standing before him remains unchanged.”

This hiddenness, coupled with our ongoing struggles with indwelling sin (Romans 7:13–25), can make the trials we face — tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, and sword (Romans 8:35) — feel overwhelming and at odds with the truth about who we really are. The felt realities of our suffering, combined with our internal battles, constantly try to persuade us that we are less than what God has declared us to be. They work to strip away the assurance that God is truly our Father.

When God sent Moses to announce his promised deliverance, the people were too broken in spirit to listen (Exodus 6:9). Their harsh reality overshadowed their hope. What are we to do when we find ourselves in a similar place, where the promise of deliverance seems distant, and our hearts struggle to believe?

Our Durable Assurance

Paul doesn’t leave us without an answer. He frames his entire discussion of the already–not yet tension in our Christian lives with one great enduring reality.

He begins Romans 8 with our unshakable confidence: “There is . . . now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). There is no condemnation, now or ever, for those united with the one who was made to be sin, though he knew no sin, “so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). God himself has graciously given us a righteousness that forever frees us from the most horrific circumstance imaginable: the just judgment of God against us because of our sin.

As Paul concludes Romans 8, he asks, “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died — more than that, who was raised — who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us” (Romans 8:33–34). Robert Haldane writes,

Among the temptations to which the believer is exposed in this life, some are from without, others are from within. Within are the alarms of conscience, fearing the wrath of God; without are adversity and tribulations. Unless [the believer] overcomes the first, he cannot prevail against the last. It is impossible that he can possess true patience and confidence in God in his afflictions, if his conscience labours under the apprehension of the wrath of God. (Romans, 412)

Confidence in the face of adversity begins with the unshakable assurance that Christ, who died and was raised, intercedes for us. In our darkest moments, when God’s comfort seems to vanish and suffering threatens to overwhelm us, we hear again the gospel’s good news: the God who justified us in Christ will not allow any accusation to stand. Even when God feels distant, our secure standing before him remains unchanged.

Our hope rests not on fluctuating emotions or our sense of his presence but on the unshakable truth that Christ is our righteousness — our “light and high beauty” — ensuring that nothing, neither internal fears nor external trials, can separate us from the Father’s love (Romans 8:35–39).

Righteousness for Real Life

During the last three weeks of my son Daniel’s life, which he spent in the hospital, I found great help in Jerry Bridges’s The Gospel for Real Life, a book that had just been released. As I write, the same copy I read during that severe trial sits before me. One highlighted passage particularly resonated with me, both during his illness and in the dark days that followed. Bridges writes about Paul’s daily joy in God’s gift of justification, stating, “By faith he looked to Jesus Christ and His righteousness for his sense of being in right standing with God today and tomorrow, and throughout eternity” (111).

When I struggled with my sense of God’s absence, I was tempted to gauge his acceptance by how vividly I could feel him near. Yet Robert Critchley’s hymn “On Christ the Solid Rock” counsels us not to “trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus’s name.” My emotions were not the measure of God’s acceptance. What mattered was Christ’s righteousness, declared to be mine through faith alone. To paraphrase Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 1:9, my dark night of the soul taught me to rely not on my experiences, no matter how sweet they may seem at times, but on Christ, my righteousness. He alone is the deepest rest for our souls.