Gandalf is beloved by many, and for good reason. J.R.R. Tolkien’s wizard is a noble picture of wisdom and strength in the face of great evil. It’s hard not to like him. In Gandalf, Tolkien sets forth the wizard in his most positive and righteous light.

This positive light has been captured recently in a wonderful book called Tolkien Dogmatics, a systematic theology of Middle-earth by Austin Freeman. Freeman ponders the wizard-orb, writing in one place,

The Wizards’ central function . . . is to encourage and bring out the inherent powers of God’s creation against the diabolical encroachments of Sauron, inspiring [Elves and Men] to use their own inborn gifts to come together and overcome this evil. . . . [Wizards] are not to do their job for them, but to advise and instruct, and so they take the form of old sages. (148–49)

For me, these words bring to mind the nature of the pastoral ministry, in which I am privileged to serve. Fixing this text as a light upon our staffs, let us search for jewels of heavenly wisdom by considering the pastor as such a wizard.

Wizards Versus Sorcerers

But hold on just a spell-casting minute. Wizards are bad, aren’t they? Surely the necromancer communing with spirits or the dark magician peering into his crystal ball is the furthest thing from the biblical picture of God’s men. Doesn’t the Bible forbid us to “seek after wizards” (Leviticus 19:31 KJV)?

The unquestionably elegant King James Bible does say that; however, the word wizard is probably not the clearest rendering for modern readers. Newer versions read otherwise. The ESV has necromancers, while the NIV says spiritists. Here and elsewhere the meaning becomes plain in context: God forbids his people from procuring the services of mediums and from finding out the future through fortune telling.

But let us return to Freeman’s description, for there we see a much different picture. The wizard, according to Tolkien, is to “bring out the inherent powers of God’s creation.” In other words, he serves God within the natural order of time and space (those very bounds that necromancers and spiritists seek to break). The good wizard doesn’t tell the future through magic arts (though, through wisdom, he tries to discern its likely motions), and he doesn’t bend the powers of nature (though he seeks to summon them into their full strength). His life and deeds are characterized by a wisdom in submission to God’s law.

In the Scriptures, sorcerers and evil magicians often find themselves up against God’s holy wise men. Joseph is endowed with insight more than all the wise men of Egypt (Genesis 41:8, 38–39). The staff of Moses dominates Pharaoh’s magicians (Exodus 8:16–19). The witch of Endor is baffled by Samuel’s appearance (1 Samuel 28:11–12). Daniel outshines the luminaries of Babylon and is pronounced the “master of the magicians” by Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 4:9 KJV). Simon the magician is confounded by the apostles (Acts 8:18–20). God’s holy men stand against the powers of darkness. And that is very Gandalf of them.

Wizard’s Work

According to Freeman, the work of a wizard is not to do the work — at least, not to do the jobs of others. So, what does Gandalf do? We find him on the move. He goes about Middle-earth observing what passes and offering his counsel freely. He aids Thorin and Aragorn on their paths to the crown, even as his archetype Merlin aided King Arthur. The wizard’s destiny is to help others find theirs. In the same way, pastors come alongside the children of God, aiding them with counsel and encouragement on their way to their heavenly thrones. We do not walk the path for our people; we walk it with them.

Pastors are tools in the hand of the Father as he goes about his holy art of forming his children into the image of his Son. “Reprove, rebuke, and exhort” are the sacred chisels of our work, removing what does not belong, and strengthening what should remain (2 Timothy 4:2).

What Spurgeon says of sermons may be said of the work of shepherding: “A sculptor believes, whenever he sees a rough block of marble, that there is a noble statue concealed within it, and that he has only to chip away the superfluities and reveal it” (Lectures to My Students, 75). He knows his masterpiece ahead of time. As we spend time with our people, we spy glories taking shape in their souls, glimpses of the good things to come. Heavenly destiny unfolds in the souls and lives of the saints. How this gladdens our hearts in our work! Our labor is patient work, but it is sure work — because it is his work.

Wizard’s Whisper

Gandalf goes about his work at a whisper. He cloaks his power in the unassuming guise of an old man with his signature hat and staff, hanging out at Bag End and puffing a pipe with Bilbo. All the while, the wheels are turning behind those bushy brows, but he rarely shows himself openly. Rather, he wishes that his presence might go unnoticed. For example, after using considerable firepower to save Frodo and company from the Ringwraiths on Weathertop, he says with regret, “I have written Gandalf is here in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin” (Fellowship of the Ring, 290).

We meet with something like this mentality in the apostle Paul. Even though he was endowed with the full authority of apostleship, he preferred not to flex that authority except at the utmost end of need. He goes so far as to say to the Corinthians, “I beg of you that when I am present I may not have to show boldness” (2 Corinthians 10:2). He preferred to lead with quiet godliness.

In fact, it was so quiet that some people didn’t notice at all. To them, Paul was downright unimpressive in person. They said of him, “His letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech of no account” (2 Corinthians 10:10). They were like most hobbits, who could see only an old meddler (with pretty good fireworks) in Gandalf. They did not realize the heavenly power at work right under their noses.

Wizard’s Weakness

Just so, being a pastor is not about being impressive enough to get people to listen to us when we tell them the truth. Being a pastor is about being used by God to form them into the kinds of people who obey the truth on their own. This picture differs significantly from the corporatized pastor of American Christianity, who is modeled after the powerful CEO rather than the humble shepherd. We are taught to ask for powerful leaders who can get things done — more like Saruman than Gandalf — and we often have received what we wished for, when we hear about another high-profile pastor dismissed from his ministry for getting things done by any means necessary. In other words, for lording it over the flock.

Perhaps we are also tempted to take matters into our own hands. So what if we slightly manipulate the saints into doing what is best for themselves or the church? It’s for a good cause, isn’t it? But Gandalf knew better. As Philip Ryken comments, “Gandalf is careful to obey the rules of his calling, and one of the rules for us is not to make decisions for other people or manipulate them to make the decisions we think they ought to make. . . . Tolkien rightly understood that evil and the Enemy are the ones who want to dictate and dominate” (The Messiah Comes to Middle-Earth, 32). Brothers, let us not borrow from the enemy’s playbook.

Make no mistake, there are times to give struggling saints a little nudge out of the door, as it were. There are times to rebuke them plainly (“Bilbo Baggins!”). When wolves prowl about us, we confront them with fiery truth, as Gandalf does when the Fellowship is nearly taken by Wargs: “Gandalf is here. Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring” (Fellowship, 298). But if Paul is to be believed, the best thing we can show our people is not impressive authority that coerces obedience, but a living example of the truth, sometimes cloaked in human weakness. What we preach, let us live.

Fellowship of the Cross

In the end, the wizard is clearly not the complete picture of the pastor. However, I dare say we have discovered a live kernel of truth under that pointy hat. Gandalf was wise enough to know that even the wise do not see all ends. He knew that it wasn’t his plan unfolding in the world; it was God’s. He intentionally postured himself in humble submission to that plan, refusing to take matters into his own hands, and yet owning that he had a real and vital part to play.

Dear brothers, in the great work of shepherding God’s little lambs, let us be wise enough to take a backseat to his sovereign plans for them. Let the Maker shape them as he sees fit under the means of grace we minister and the fellowship of the cross we enjoy together.

This is a worship service and not a public lecture. The act of worship is not mainly the transfer of information. The act of worship is mainly the exultation of our hearts over the greatness and beauty and worth of Jesus Christ, our Savior and our God. Worship is happening when we treasure that greatness, that beauty, that worth — and say it, and sing it, and pray it, and listen for it, and plead for it.

The sermon, in corporate worship, is not after worship or before worship. It is worship. If the preacher is not moved by the reality he explains, if he not exulting over the truth of his exposition, he’s not preaching. The preacher must set forth biblical truth in such a way that Christ is seen more clearly and loved more dearly, and he does it by seeing truly and loving duly.

So when you hear that this message is about biblical foundations for a church-based Christian college (namely, Bethlehem College), don’t take off your worship garment and put on your academic garment. Don’t stop hungering to see the work of God. Keep expecting, right now, to join the preacher in exulting over the greatness and beauty and worth of Christ. This is a worship service.

God Brought Bethlehem into Being

One of the amazing works of God in the last 25 years of the life of this church is that God formed a seminary and college here, both fully accredited by the Association of Biblical Higher Education and incorporated under the laws of the state of Minnesota. I emphasize that God has formed this school not because human instruments aren’t important but because “the horse is made ready for the day of battle, but the victory belongs to the Lord” (Proverbs 21:31). God is decisive. He is always decisive, not man.

“The act of worship is mainly the exultation of our hearts over the greatness and beauty and worth of Jesus Christ.”

And not only that, but no pastor and no council of elders sat down in 1998 and said, “Let’s put in place an apprenticeship, and then an institute, and then a seminary, and then a college so that in 2023 we will have Bethlehem College & Seminary.” Nobody did that. It didn’t happen that way. It grew up organically, like a human embryo becoming a mature person. The DNA contained it all. The seed contained the flowers.

Our church mission statement, which we embraced in 1995, has seeds in it. There’s a powerful spiritual DNA in it. The statement says, “We exist to spread a passion for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through Jesus Christ.” Almost every word of that mission is explosive with implications. The seeds of that mission have been germinating for decades in God-centered, Christ-exalting, Bible-saturated worship.

And God himself, who loves to be exalted as supreme in the lives of his people, organically brought into being Bethlehem College & Seminary for that mission — for the spreading of a “passion for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through Jesus Christ.” And for his glory, and for the advancement of his mission, and for your joy as part of this church, you (especially the members of Bethlehem and The North Church) need to know what you are a part of.

Christian Seminaries — and Colleges?

The legal corporation of Bethlehem College & Seminary is owned and supported by two members of the corporation, Bethlehem Baptist Church and The North Church. The elders of those two churches approve the board of trustees who oversee the school, appointing the president and guarding the vision. And you, as members of one of these two churches, choose who the elders are in each church. You see what that means.

You affirm the elders. The elders affirm the trustees. The trustees call the president and oversee the vision. The president builds the faculty, and the faculty bring the vision to life for the students. And with God’s merciful blessing in the life of this school, the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through Jesus Christ becomes a lifelong reality in the lives of our students. It’s your school — our school. To be a member of this church or The North Church is to own a school.

And this morning, my focus in particular is on the biblical foundations for the college, not the seminary. Most Christians understand that there will be a need for pastors, teachers, and global ambassadors in the body of Christ always. Christ will build his church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it (Matthew 16:18). It will endure till Jesus comes again, and he has appointed that it should have pastors and teachers (Ephesians 4:11). What better place to train them than in close association with the local church (just as, for example, medical students are trained in connection with hospitals)?

So most Christians understand the need for a seminary — but a college is another reality. Not as many Christians have a clear sense of what it is and why a church would start and own one. Let’s think about that together.

Infrastructure of Grace

The first thing to say is that God does not plan for everyone to go to college or to go to this kind of college. I have been blown away recently by simply letting myself ponder the vast complexity of what it takes for contemporary society to function.

To put it in biblical language, Jesus said, “[God] makes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5:45). In other words, God gives common grace, distinguished from saving grace, to unbelievers so that life may go on. Common grace includes thousands of skills and competencies performed by people created in the image of God who don’t worship him at all.

Without these God-given, God-graced people, all the infrastructures of this metroplex called the Twin Cities would collapse. According to Hebrews 1:3, Jesus Christ holds this world in being: “He upholds the universe by the word of his power.” And he does it, among other ways, by giving thousands of different occupational preferences and abilities and skills.

Think of the complexities of just functioning as a city (not to mention flourishing):

getting clean water to your home, and getting waste and sewage away from it
the production and distribution of electricity to every block of this city, powering a thousand different kinds of devices and lighting every building
the construction and maintenance of buildings with a hundred different kinds of expertise for every phase of construction
the planning, building, and maintenance of roads, without which nothing would get anywhere
the legal systems of legislatures, laws, courts, and law enforcement
the massive complexities of transportation, whether cars, trains, or planes, all of which have to be designed, built, operated, maintained, and coordinated
the vast systems of communication, from phones to email, snail mail to texting, all of which depend on the design, manufacture, distribution, and programming of computers
the amazing system of medical care available at the mere dial of 9-1-1 or within walking distance (I can walk to four major hospitals from my house in twenty minutes)
the utterly indispensable industry of farming and food production, without which we would starve
the manufacture of clothing and a thousand other goods that we depend on daily, along with the innumerable retail outlets that make these products available

All of that just scratches the surface of what makes modern life work. So recently, I have been blown away that a city like Minneapolis actually works. Jesus Christ holds it together. Colossians 1:17 says, “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” Hundreds of thousands of people will give account before him someday that they never once thanked him or worshiped him as God.

All that to say, it takes thousands of kinds of human interests, desires, abilities, and skills, along with training and education, to make modern society work. There is no presumption — no biblical warrant — that everyone should get the same kind of education or training to be of service in this world.

There are implications of 1 Corinthians 12:4–6 for all of life: “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone.” Bethlehem College is not for everyone, and you are neither the lesser nor the greater if God leads you to pursue mature discipleship and worthy service another way.

Pivotal Years

That word discipleship is key, isn’t it? Jesus said that the task of the church is to go and make disciples, teaching them how to live in obedience to everything he commanded (Matthew 28:19–20) — to make him supreme in all things.

So begin discipling the moment they are born. Disciple them at age two. Disciple them at age twelve. Disciple them when they turn eighteen. A mature disciple of Jesus is passionate “for the supremacy of God in all things for the joy of all peoples through Jesus Christ.” This mission statement and the command of Jesus to make disciples are one thing, and it is what we want to happen in our students. So why would we put so much focus and energy into this season of life — the brief, post-high-school chapter of life?

One answer is simply that at the time of the inception of this college, God had brought together the critical mass of people who shared the burden for this peculiar kind of college. That’s the way new things are created. God ignites a flame, a vision, in a person or a group, and it becomes contagious and grows. Something new comes into being.

This has happened all across the room. God gave you a desire for something, something that would glorify him. You pursued it, and it became a reality. You could have done a dozen other things, but this one burned in your heart. And God blessed it — because God put it there.

But there’s another reason for why we have given so much effort to starting and building a college. The years from 18 to 25 are a uniquely pivotal period of life. Ecclesiastes 3:1–5 says,

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted . . . a time to break down, and a time to build up . . . a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together.

“The time between 18 and 25 is a pivotal time to plant, to build something that will last a lifetime.”

In our culture (because it’s not the same in every culture), the time between 18 and 25 is a pivotal time to plant, to gather stones together, to build something that will last a lifetime.

Changed at Eighteen

Let me use myself as an example. When I went to college at age eighteen, I would say my faith in Jesus was stable and strong. But my sense of identity — of what I would be in the world and how I could be useful — was weak and fragile. I had huge insecurities and no sure sense of vocational direction — just a cauldron of desires that needed a lot of maturing.

Three things happened in those years. All of them determined my future. First, I fell in love with Noël, and we have been committed to each other for 57 years. The impact of her on my life is incalculable. I would pay all the tuition in the world for that. Second, I heard the call of God to spend the rest of my life in the ministry of the word of God. That call rings as clear today as it did in the summer of 1966. Third, during that same summer, God broke a lifelong bondage that made me paralyzed and unable to speak in front of a group.

I know it doesn’t happen to everybody this way. But in general, we believe that this is a pivotal period of life. Lifelong trajectories are set, and at Bethlehem College we want to be God’s agents of maturing, directing, liberating, and, yes, even matchmaking, for the glory of Christ.

Now, instead of getting into the particulars of what it is like to come here and study “the great books in the light of the Greatest Book for the sake of the Great Commission” (as our college puts it), let’s go to the teaching of Jesus. Let’s see what he says about the life of the mind — what it’s for, what gets in the way, and how that applies to Bethlehem College.

Observe, Understand, Evaluate — and Feel

In Mark 6, Jesus miraculously multiplies five loaves and two fish so that they feed five thousand people. Then he sends his disciples away in a boat, out onto the Sea of Galilee. Around 3:00 in the morning, Jesus comes to them, walking on the water. Here’s what happened:

When they saw him walking on the sea they thought it was a ghost, and cried out, for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” And he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened. (Mark 6:49–52)

In verse 52, Jesus says that their terror and astonishment was owing to the fact that “they did not understand about the loaves.” What does that mean?

It means that Jesus expected his disciples to observe carefully what was happening in the feeding of the five thousand. Then they were to understand its meaning and implications for who he was. Last, they should evaluate his worth, his power, his trustworthiness, and his readiness to take care of them accurately. (There was a whole basket left over for each disciple. Get it?) And with this observation, understanding, and evaluation, he expected to affect their emotions when he came walking to them on the water.

That’s what a college education is for: to build into students’ minds and hearts the habits of observing carefully, understanding rightly, and evaluating truly, biblically — so producing life-shaping emotions that are proportionate to reality.

How the Heart Hinders the Mind

But it didn’t happen for the disciples. Why? Look at the end of Mark 6:52: “They did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.” Their heads didn’t work right because their hearts weren’t right. This is foundational for what we do in Bethlehem College. Heart transformation is the great inner foundation of all true education, of the right use of the mind. If the heart is hard toward God, the head will not work right.

Jesus illustrates this again in Matthew 16:1–3:

The Pharisees and Sadducees came, and to test him they asked him to show them a sign from heaven. He answered them, “When it is evening, you say, ‘It will be fair weather, for the sky is red.’ And in the morning, ‘It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.”

These are smart people. They know how to use a syllogism.

Premise 1: All men are mortal.
Premise 2: Plato is a man.
Conclusion: Therefore, Plato is mortal.

That’s the way all of you think when you are in your right mind. God baked that into your mind because it’s the way he thinks. So Jesus congratulates the Pharisees and Sadducees on their syllogistic reasoning.

Premise 1: When the sky is red in the evening, the weather will be fair.
Premise 2: This evening, the sky is red.
Conclusion: The weather will be fair tonight.

That’s right, Jesus says. That’s the way you are supposed to use your God-given mind. Then he says in Matthew 16:3, “You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.” Your brain works just fine when you’re deciding whether to go sailing on the Sea of Galilee. But when it comes to observing and understanding and evaluating and loving the Son of God, who is working wonders right in front of you, your brain goes haywire. You cannot interpret the signs I perform. Your brilliant brains stop working.

“If the heart is hard toward God, the head will not work right.”

Why is that? Matthew 16:4 gives the answer: “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign.” The minds didn’t work because their hearts were adulterous. I think he means spiritual adultery. Jesus Christ came into the world to be the bridegroom for his people. They did not want him as their husband. They were adulterous and wanted the praise of man. They wanted to be married to money (Luke 16:14).

When the heart wants something more than Jesus, the mind will find a hundred ways not to observe accurately, not to understand correctly, not to evaluate him truly, and not to love him. Today, Jesus would say to unbelieving scientists, “You know how to use your minds to get to the moon? You don’t know how to use your minds to get to heaven. And if you are not on the way to heaven, getting to the moon is nothing.”

Heavenly Minded Colleges

Our goal at Bethlehem College, with God’s omnipotent and merciful help, is that our hearts not be hard or adulterous. Only then can our minds observe accurately, understand rightly, evaluate truly, and feel the worth of all that God is for us in Christ. If we succeed, our students will have the critical powers, if they choose, to join the team that gets us to Mars. But far more important, they will be on the team that gets us to heaven.

You may be wondering, How does this connect to the text that was read at the beginning, 1 Corinthians 2:1–16? I will leave that for you to think through. But here’s a pointer: in verses 14–16, Paul says that the natural mind — the mind without the Holy Spirit — sees God and his ways as foolish and therefore cannot understand them.

But the spiritual person, the person changed by the Spirit, sees God and his ways as wisdom and beauty, therefore seeing the whole world in the light of truth. He calls this change “the mind of Christ.” That’s our goal for our students. That’s why we have a college.

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.

Mr. A is a member of the church. He was baptized years ago, still professes faith, and shows up routinely on Sundays. While he isn’t known for possessing much love to Jesus, or much zeal for spiritual things, neither is he known for being an open sinner. He is nice enough. He serves from time to time and doesn’t avoid getting into a conversation on his way out the door. He struggles with his set of sins, but who doesn’t?

While he sits in the same pew every week, truthfully, not many would notice if he left. He is not exactly a model of a hearty believer. But he is a member still — different members, different gifts.

Is he growing in holiness? You can’t really tell. Is he increasing in his knowledge of Christ? Hard to say. Does he really love the brethren? Well, what exactly do you mean? Does he warm at the love of God or delight in the Lord Jesus? Perhaps deep down. You’ve attended church with this person, maybe overlapped in a small group with him, but for all of that, his heart for his Lord hasn’t surfaced much. He blends into the pew from Sunday to Sunday like a fake plant in the corner of the sanctuary.

The years pass. He raises a family. His daughter sings in the children’s choir. His wife occasionally cooks meals for church gatherings. He never commits grave immorality. He never promotes heresy. He never stops coming. His gravestone eventually reads, “Here lies Mr. A., Christian husband, father, churchman.”

Over the years, I have been gravely concerned for this type of man — drawn to this man — probably because I used to be like this man.

Church for the Unconverted

To put it plainly: I believe that men like Mr. A are far too comfortable in too many churches as they sleep themselves into hell. Nominalism — or if you want the Bible word, lukewarmness — is perilous to the professor’s soul and is too often ignored in churches. Consider some words from Jesus.

Salt is good, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is of no use either for the soil or for the manure pile. It is thrown away. (Luke 14:34–35)

A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. And he said to the vinedresser, “Look, for three years now I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?” (Luke 13:6–7)

I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. (Revelation 3:1)

Because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. (Revelation 3:16)

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. (Matthew 10:37)

A saltless professor thrown away into the manure pile. A fruitless fig tree cut down. An empty reputation exposed. A lukewarm sip of water spit out of God’s mouth. A tepid lover unwelcomed as Christ’s disciple. I tremble at how many men and women follow the gentle slope of religious duty, and even church membership, peacefully into hell. These spiritual centaurs bore some resemblance to Christian people up top, but had their hooves dug into the love of this world beneath.

Propping Professors

What has come to bother me — and what I believe should bother you — is that too many seem to have no category for lifeless professors in churches. It seems to seldom occur, even to some doctors of divinity, that church directories can hold names of the dead. And while no local church will be constituted perfectly of the regenerate, my issue is with unscriptural vitals being taken for life, allowing for the broad way to become a highway through local churches.

“The longer I live, and the closer I come to heaven,” John Piper writes, “the more troubling it is that so many people identify as Christians but give so little evidence of being truly Christian.” This is my heart. “My sadness grows,” he continues, “when I consider that there may be millions of people who think themselves as heaven-bound, hell-escaping Christians who are not — people for whom Christ is at the margins of their thoughts and affections, not at the transforming center. People who will hear Jesus say at the judgment, ‘I never knew you; depart from me’ (Matthew 7:23)” (What Is Saving Faith?, 29).

“How many do we have in our churches who, year by year, give little to no evidence of being true Christians?”

How many do we have in our churches who, year by year, give little to no evidence of being true Christians? How many do we call “brother” or “sister” who seat Christ in the nosebleeds of their thoughts and affections? Do we notice them? Oh to consider that so many will have perished — not despite the church’s questions, pleadings, and warnings, but happily in the midst of a true local church with good men preaching. They strayed to hell unbothered by surrounding saints and ultimately unknown and unpursued by their pastors.

Lukewarmness is to be repented of in our churches, not reinforced through laxity. The great and first command — our born-again privilege — is to love the Lord our God with our whole being (Matthew 22:37–38; Deuteronomy 30:6). If we cast off this command in favor of our own standards for the Christian life, if we prop up the religious lost, insinuating that head knowledge and regular attendance make a Christian, local churches can become — of all places — the most comfortable for the spiritually dead.

Dangerous Imbalance

What can perpetuate this vicious cycle? What can contribute to nominal members feeling so at ease in Christian communities? I think one tendency Protestant churches can fall into is to overstate justification and understate regeneration.

Overstating Justification

When everything becomes about justification, when the story stops at what Christ has done outside of us in his substitutionary death, we can lean toward lax standards for what constitutes membership and discipleship. Everything can become reduced to cognitive assent — intellectually agreeing with what he accomplished — and we short-circuit the emphasis on the “obedience of faith,” bearing fruit in keeping with repentance, or “faith working through love” (Romans 1:6; Matthew 3:8; Galatians 5:6) — in other words, the life and actions of living faith.

“What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him?” (James 2:14). Of course it can — salvation is by faith alone. What do you mean? too many answer. And in so doing, we countenance a dead faith — one that attends and says it believes certain creeds, avoids public scandal, but does not joyfully, fearfully “work out your own salvation” or “strive . . . for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord” (Philippians 2:12; Hebrews 12:14) — all flowing from a true justification in Christ alone through faith alone.

A lifeless, pulseless, passionless religious life evidenced in routine attendance — is this the power of God for salvation? Our confessions answer plainly:

Faith, thus receiving and resting on Christ and his righteousness, is the alone instrument of justification: yet is it not alone in the person justified, but is ever accompanied with all other saving graces, and is no dead faith, but worketh by love. (Westminster Confession of Faith, 11.2)

Understating Regeneration

“Truly, truly I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3). Jesus turned Nicodemus’s world upside down by teaching that, in this new-covenant age, no one will be in heaven who has not born again on earth.

So it is. A heart-change, a love-change, a creature-change must happen if we will be in heaven — yet how many know the power of this change? Most members in our churches, we expect, but we must never lose sight that being born again proves itself over time with unmistakable fruit. Such is bound up in the new-covenant promise given to Ezekiel:

I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. (Ezekiel 36:25–27)

“Being born again proves itself by unmistakable fruits of salvation over time.”

God will give us a new heart, a new love, a new allegiance in this new birth. Therefore, John can make such black-and-white statements in his first epistle concerning how our assurance as Christians directly relates to our lives of obedience and love for other believers (1 John 2:29; 3:9–10; 4:7; 5:1, 18).

“Once a member, always a member” is more tidy, more clean, and more convenient for already-too-busy pastors, but it is also more tenuous — for them and us — in view of that great Day when we will stand with them and “give an account” for their souls (Hebrews 13:17).

Many Will Say on That Day

Many is one of the most comforting and one of the scariest words to proceed from Jesus’s lips in the Gospels. Here it is the scariest:

Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?” And then will I declare to them, “I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.” (Matthew 7:21–23)

Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able. (Luke 13:24)

Many lost men and women will go to that great judgment day believing themselves to be saved. They went to church; they did works in his name; they called him Lord. Let that sit with you a moment. Can anything be more miserable, more shocking, more pitiable than one of our people — or us — gasping in utter unbelief as angels drag them away? “But Lord, you are my Lord! I am one of your followers!”

Oh, before it is too late, resolve now, as far as it goes with you, not to let your people sleep their way into judgment. Will we not tell them to watch, to stay alert? Will we not call them to that discipleship found in the New Testament? Will we not be watchful over their souls in earnest prayer? Will we not encourage and exhort and rebuke and blow the trumpet of God’s word in their ears? Will they hear “I never knew you” from the Lord in heaven after we, their pastors and fellow members, did not know them on earth? Will we be their abettors unaware?

O Lord, for our sake and theirs, may it not be.

When the emperor Nero blamed Christians for starting the fire that destroyed much of Rome in AD 64, persecution became official policy for the first time. Though it remained sporadic, many early Christians never knew when they might be forced to pay the ultimate price for their faith.

Pictures of such Christians facing lions in the Colosseum or being burnt at the stake are familiar to many of us. Those who lost their lives in this way are venerated as martyrs, a term that originally meant witnesses but that is now reserved for those who died for their beliefs. To be sure, some of the stories told about the early martyrs have been exaggerated. (We need not believe the legend of Dionysius, for example, which says he was put to death in Paris about but managed to walk ten miles or so with his severed head!)

Nevertheless, there were certainly many people who went to their deaths because they refused to renounce their devotion to Christ. Why was this? The church father Tertullian (c. 155–c. 220) offers a fascinating window into early Christian martyrdom — and how God used it to build his church.

Jesus’s Unique Death

The idea that someone might be put to death for his or her beliefs was not entirely unknown in the ancient world, but such deaths were uncommon and generally disapproved of. The classic case is that of Socrates, the Athenian philosopher who was executed in 399 BC by his fellow citizens because they thought he was an atheist who was leading young people astray. The scandal caused by that injustice was so great that nothing like it ever happened again in Athens.

Though some have compared Jesus to Socrates, the early Christians saw him differently. They knew Jesus had suffered because Jewish leaders had accused him of blasphemy, and the Roman authorities in Palestine were too cowardly to resist their calls for the death sentence. Jesus was no mere philosopher. He didn’t die as a victim in the cause of free speech. His death was a sacrifice that God had foreordained as the fulfillment of his promise to the Jews that he would save them from their sins. The men who condemned him were certainly guilty of shedding innocent blood, but they were also unwitting agents of a divine plan that they did not understand (Acts 4:24–28).

Jesus died to pay the price for our sins, but he did not stay in the grave. Three days later, he rose again from the dead — and forty days after that, he ascended into heaven. He was a victim of human injustice, but subsequent events revealed him as the Savior of the world, and it was that salvation that his disciples proclaimed.

Christian Martyrdom

The disciples of Jesus were unpopular, particularly with the Jewish establishment, which thought they were destroying Judaism by claiming that Old Testament sacrifices were no longer valid. Many of the earliest Christians were arrested and subjected to severe beatings. Some even lost their lives at the hands of their Jewish persecutors (Acts 7:58–60; 12:1–2), though these occurrences were rare. And then, after fire consumed Rome, persecution became a matter of imperial policy.

Curiously, neither the Christians nor their persecutors could explain what the crimes were. Christians were typically model subjects of the Roman Empire and did nothing to offend anyone beyond refusing to worship the pagan gods. The Romans disapproved of that, of course, but Jews did not worship the gods either, nor did many of the philosophers who regarded all religion as superstition, and nobody tried to put them to death.

Educated Christians did not hesitate to write defenses of their faith in which they pointed out how wrong it was for pagans to persecute them. Among them was Tertullian, a North African convert to Christianity. Tertullian, who seems to have escaped execution, wrote a number of books in which he expounded his faith to unbelievers and encouraged martyrs to stand firm as witnesses to Christ, even regarding their martyrdom as proof that what they believed was true.

Tertullian’s Witness

Tertullian was the first Christian to write specifically about martyrdom and persecution, though there is no sign that he suffered either himself. He wrote a couple of short books to other Christians who were facing martyrdom themselves or who were tempted to run away from persecution and save their lives. In To the Martyrs and On Flight in Persecution, he told them to stand firm and sacrifice themselves for the spiritual truth that they cherished more than life itself. As he put it, Jesus had died for them, so it was a privilege to be able to die for him. It was also a sign to unbelievers that Christians meant business. Just as Jesus came back from the dead, so too they would rise again to a higher life with him in heaven.

Tertullian’s most important treatment of the subject, however, was in his Apology, a lengthy argument addressed to the pagans who were putting Christians to death. Many pagans were blaming Christians for causing earthquakes and floods, an absurd charge that was easy to refute. Natural disasters had been occurring long before the coming of Christ, so how could his followers be responsible for them? On the contrary, Christians prayed for the welfare of all people, and when disasters occurred, it was they who helped the victims, not the pagans.

“The witness of the martyrs bore fruit that they did not live to see.”

Moreover, people who saw Christians going to their deaths, often praying and singing as they went, were moved by their courage and tempted to examine their beliefs more carefully, which was the exact opposite of what the persecutors wanted. In fact, it was often the martyrs’ witness that persuaded others to believe in Christ. The world was against them, but Christians had nothing to fear, and they demonstrated their faith by being willing to die for it.

‘I Will Build My Church’

Tertullian was grieved by the injustice inflicted on his fellow believers, but he was able to see beyond the horrors of persecution to the purposes of God that lay behind it. As he explained to his pagan contemporaries, the more they persecuted Christians, the more their blood bore witness to the truth of their faith. As modern writers have paraphrased his words, “The blood of martyrs is the seed of the church.”

Many people who saw what was happening were not indifferent to the wrongdoing they witnessed. The martyrs who went to their deaths willingly, often joyfully singing hymns, were sending a more powerful message to bystanders than even the Christian preachers they may have heard. That believers acted this way led many to think there must be something to this faith. Imperceptibly and incrementally, the church began to grow. One by one, people who were hostile or indifferent began to ask questions and, as they got answers, became convinced of the truth of what they were seeing and being told.

“Like the martyrs of old, we walk by faith, knowing that death in this world is but the gateway to eternal life.”

Tertullian did not hesitate to remind his readers of the legendary heroes of early Rome, who had stood up against the city’s enemies and rescued it from destruction. Centuries later, their devotion had produced a worldwide empire. The church, he was convinced, would one day achieve such a worldwide scope. Though he did not live to see it, he was not wrong. Suffering and martyrdom were not sought by Christians, but God used such persecution to build his church. The witness of the martyrs bore fruit that they did not live to see.

As Christians today, we naturally do not want to suffer for our faith any more than they did, but we can see from their example that our sufferings have a purpose in the mind of God that will be revealed in his good time, to the honor and glory of his holy name. Like the martyrs of old, we walk by faith, knowing that death in this world is but the gateway to eternal life in the world to come.

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.

The thesis of this essay is that Jesus Christ, the absolutely supreme Creator, Sustainer, and Ruler of the universe, intends to accomplish his saving purposes in the world without reliance on the powers of civil government to teach, defend, or spread the Christian religion as such. Followers of Christ should not use the sword of civil government to enact, enforce, or spread any idea or behavior as explicitly Christian — as part of the Christian religion as such.

It is critical to understand what I mean by the phrases “explicitly Christian” and “the Christian religion as such.” The state may indeed teach, defend, and spread ideas and behaviors that Christians support — and support for explicitly Christian reasons (and that non-Christians may support for different reasons). But that is not the same as the state’s taking on the role of advocacy for the Christian faith as such. It’s the latter, not the former, that the New Testament opposes.

The civil government may rightly pass laws that make the spread of the Christian faith (and other faiths) easier (for example, laws protecting free speech and free assembly). That is not what the New Testament opposes. The New Testament opposes Christians looking to the state to teach, defend, or spread ideas or behaviors as explicitly Christian. The sword is not to be the agent of the Christian religion as such — that is, as a religion.

Focused on Christianity, Not the Church

This essay is not mainly about church-state relations. I am concerned here with the Christian religion as such, not with any particular institutional manifestations. I say this partly because I know some join me in rejecting the notion of any given Christian denomination being established as a state church, but who still advocate for the state’s enforcement of the Christian religion, such as including the Apostles’ Creed in the US Constitution. To turn Christian creeds into civil statutes transforms them into legal codes enforceable by the sword. I will argue that this is contrary to the teaching of the New Testament. It is disobedience to the lordship of Christ.

I will argue that it is precisely our supreme allegiance to the lordship of Christ that obliges us not to use the God-given sword of civil government to threaten the punishment, or withhold the freedoms, of persons who do not confess Christ as Lord. There is no warrant in the New Testament for the church or the state to use force against non-Christian beliefs or against outward expressions of such beliefs that are not crimes on other counts.

This renunciation of reliance on state powers to establish the Christian religion as such is not in the service of so-called secular neutrality (which does not exist). It is in obedience to God’s word and in celebration of the Christ-exalting way he intends to rule the world without the weapons of the world until Christ’s return.

What the Government Does

This essay is mainly about what Christians should not look to the government to do. It is not about what we should look to the government to do. That is another essay (which many have already written). If I were to write an essay on that issue, it might begin with 1 Timothy 2:1–2:

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.

The principle here is that the government uses its civil authority to provide a society of peace and justice where Christians (and others) are free to live out their faith without physical resistance. This passage does not warrant the view that other religions may legitimately be oppressed by government force. The principle is peace and stability and justice, not that any one religion be supported or restrained rather than another.

Christians as Influencers

Christians may serve in civil roles of authority and may be guided in those roles by their own Christian faith and biblical understanding of what is good for a society. This essay is not against Christians serving Christ through a role in government; it is against the government presuming to use its sword in the explicit aim of advancing the spiritual rule of Christ.

Christians should openly say that Christ is Lord of all, and that their Christian faith informs their political views. They may gladly say publicly which particular laws they support and oppose for Christian reasons. But that is not the same as saying that a law should be passed as an explicitly Christian act of government in support of the Christian religion as such. In other words, Christian influence in shaping a society’s conception of a just social order is not the same as Christians using state power to establish policies or laws precisely because they are part of the Christian religion.

For example, Christians rightly oppose, on biblical grounds, laws defending the killing of unborn children. And they rightly pursue, because of Christian convictions, laws protecting the lives of the unborn. And since immorality and illegality are not the same, they may also rightly debate and propose what measures of illegality, if any, should attach to the immorality of any number of perverse practices, such as sodomy, child pornography, or amputating and/or installing male and female sexual organs. Speaking biblical truth into the public square as Christians is what disciples of Jesus do. We declare the excellencies of God and his ways. Such advocacy for truth and righteousness is not what the New Testament opposes. It is against using the state to reward or punish acts because they are part of the Christian religion as such.

Christians may be involved in the political process from top to bottom as an expression of allegiance to the lordship of Christ, as they seek to “do good to everyone” (Galatians 6:10; 1 Thessalonians 5:15) in the hope that some might “see [their] good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:12). But seeking to serve in government as a fruit of Christian faith is not the same as using the powers of civil government as an advocate of the Christian faith as such.

We turn now to the exegetical reflections that support the preceding claims. I will focus on eight clusters of texts that lead to the thesis that Christ intends to accomplish his saving purposes in the world without using the sword of government to support the Christian religion as such — or any religion.

1. Christ’s kingdom is not of this world.

Pilate entered his headquarters again and called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you say this of your own accord, or did others say it to you about me?” Pilate answered, “Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests have delivered you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” Then Pilate said to him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world — to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate said to him, “What is truth?” (John 18:33–38)

Jesus speaks the words of verse 36 (“my kingdom is not of this world”) to clarify for Pilate that the kingly rule he does indeed bring into the world (Matthew 3:2; 4:17; 6:10) is not the kind Pilate would have in mind. He distinguishes his kingly rule from what Pilate would understand. He does so by saying that his kingdom is not “of this world” (verse 36). John uses this exact phrase thirteen times in his Gospel and twice in his letters.

“Of [or from] the world” carries a double meaning for John. On the one hand, it speaks of origin. Jesus’s kingdom does not originate from the world. He makes that explicit with the Greek word enteuthen — his kingdom is not “from here” (verse 36). But that would be a pointless observation if it did not carry the second meaning — namely, that his kingdom is not of the nature of this world. Christ’s kingdom is a kingdom unlike — not the same as — the kingdoms of this world.

We can see this meaning in John 15:19. Jesus says to the disciples, “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.” Similarly, in 1 John 4:5–6, John says of the false teachers, “They are from the world; therefore they speak from the world, and the world listens to them. We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us.” From these texts, one can see that to be “from the world” is to be like the world — to act in a way that the world understands and approves of.

Then Jesus gives a specific example of how his kingly rule is not like the kingdoms of this world: “If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting” (verse 36). Thus Henry Alford explains that Christ’s kingdom in this world is “not springing from, arising out of this world; — and therefore not to be supported by this world’s weapons.”1 Similarly, Colin Kruse explains, “His kingdom is active in this world, and will one day come with power, but its power is not of this world; it is of God.”2

“Christ conquers his enemies by the gospel, not by the sword.”

When Christ says that if his kingdom were of this world his servants would have been fighting to keep him from being killed, he shows that his kingdom comes not by the power of the sword but by the power of the blood he is about to shed. He conquers his enemies by the gospel, not by the sword. “They have conquered [the accuser] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death” (Revelation 12:11).

I conclude, therefore, that the words of Jesus in John 18:36 are a warning to all his followers to resist the temptation to treat the sword of civil government as a Christian agent to advance the saving rule of Christ.

2. Christ’s kingdom is invisible and spiritual in nature.

He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (Colossians 1:13–14)

In Paul’s letters, the primary use of the word kingdom is in reference to the future “kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:9, 10; 15:50; Galatians 5:21; Ephesians 5:5; 2 Thessalonians 1:5). But here in Colossians 1:13, Paul makes clear that before that final consummation of the kingdom (which he can call “the kingdom of Christ and God,” Ephesians 5:5), there is a present kingdom. This kingdom is the kingly rule of Christ that a person enters by God’s “deliverance” and “transferring”: “He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son” (Colossians 1:13). In other words, this kingdom is populated by people whom God has brought into fellowship with his Son (1 Corinthians 1:9). In this relationship, there is “redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Colossians 1:14).

The kingdom of Christ is the invisible rule of Christ over all those who are spiritually transferred from darkness into that rule. Therefore, neither the means of entrance nor the present reality of this kingdom should be thought of as looking to the civil government for advocacy or enforcement.

The invisible and spiritual nature of Christ’s kingdom between his two comings fits with the words of Jesus in John 18:36, “my kingdom is not of this world,” from which Jesus draws out the implication, “My disciples are not taking up arms to free me.” The weapons of the state are not to be the Christian means by which the kingdom of Christ advances in this world.

Christ’s saving rule advances by the sovereign act of God, who transfers people from the authority of darkness to the authority of Christ. The enlistment of the powers of civil government as Christian teacher, defender, or spreader of this kingdom of Christ inevitably obscures the spiritual nature of the kingdom and creates a false impression of Christ’s true mission in the world.

3. Followers of Christ are sojourners and exiles on earth.

You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. (1 Peter 2:9–12)

If you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1 Peter 1:17–19)

Many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. (Philippians 3:18–21)

The people of Christ are those whom God has “called out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). This group corresponds to the people who have been “delivered from the domain of darkness and transferred . . . to the kingdom of [God’s] beloved Son” (Colossians 1:13). Thus, the people within Christ’s kingly rule are the same as the people called “a chosen race . . . a holy nation” (1 Peter 2:9). These are also the ones called “sojourners and exiles” (1 Peter 2:11). And their time in this age between Christ’s two comings is called “the time of your exile” (1 Peter 1:17). This group of people is said to have its “citizenship . . . in heaven” (Philippians 3:20), over against those whose minds are “set on earthly things” (Philippians 3:19). This is a remarkable list of distinctives that set Christ’s people off from the world:

delivered from the domain of darkness
transferred to the kingdom of Christ
called out of darkness
called into Christ’s marvelous light
constituted as a chosen race
constituted as a holy nation
having their citizenship in heaven
being sojourners and exiles
living in a time of exile

Between the two comings of Christ is a “time of . . . exile” for the people of Christ. During this time, they are themselves “sojourners and exiles.” That is, their “citizenship is in heaven,” not first or mainly or decisively in this world. This heavenly citizenship constitutes them as a “holy nation.” To quote the standard Greek lexicon, “Our home is in heaven, and here on earth we are a colony of heavenly citizens.”3 This colony in exile on earth is marked by two spiritual realities: “marvelous light” and the rule of Christ.

“Our defining citizenship, across all nations and ethnicities and races, is not an earthly citizenship.”

The depiction of Christ’s people with these dramatic distinctives is designed to distance them from the earthly structures of this age insofar as those structures would define, control, or be identified as the spiritual realities of Christ’s rule. These descriptions are designed to loosen allegiances to earthly nations and tighten allegiances to Christ’s people among all nations. Our defining citizenship, across all nations and ethnicities and races, is not an earthly citizenship (like citizenship in America, or any other earthly state) or an earthly ethnicity or race.

Until Christ comes, the vagaries and fragile existence of earthly nations do not correspond to the indestructible kingdom of Christ and his people. They have no necessary connection. Earthly nations come and go. Christ’s “holy nation” does not. It would be inconsistent with the radical distinction between the exile-reality of Christ’s people, on the one hand, and the citizenship of any earthly government, on the other hand, to think of the powers of that earthly government functioning as an explicitly Christian agent of Christ’s transnational “holy nation.” This is true regardless of how many people or leaders in an earthly nation are Christians.

4. Christians wield spiritual weapons, not earthly ones.

I, Paul, myself entreat you, by the meekness and gentleness of Christ — I who am humble when face to face with you, but bold toward you when I am away! — I beg of you that when I am present I may not have to show boldness with such confidence as I count on showing against some who suspect us of walking according to the flesh. For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ, being ready to punish every disobedience, when your obedience is complete. (2 Corinthians 10:1–6)

There is no question of whether Christians are engaged in warfare in this world. The question is, What are the weapons and strategies we should use in combatting the anti-Christian forces and in exalting Christ? Paul admits that Christians share ordinary physical bodies and other human and cultural commonalities with non-Christians in this world (food, clothing, language, social structures, etc.). That is what he means when he says, “We walk in the flesh” (verse 3). The word flesh refers to what is merely human, merely natural, apart from the transforming effects of the Holy Spirit (see Romans 1:3; 4:1; 9:3, 5; 1 Corinthians 1:26; Galatians 4:23, 29). Christians share this world with unbelievers.

Nevertheless, when it comes to the battles of defending and spreading the Christian faith, Paul draws a line. We may “walk” in the flesh, but we do not “[wage] war according to the flesh” (verse 3). Or to say it another way, “The weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh” (verse 4). Even though Paul is not talking about the power of civil government in this text, the principle holds: we do not seek to defeat explicitly anti-Christian teaching by using the weapons of the flesh — namely, by wielding the sword of the civil government.

This is virtually the same as Jesus saying, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting [with the sword]” (John 18:36). In other words, “My kingdom is not of the flesh. If my kingdom were of the flesh, my servants would have been using the weapons of the flesh.” If in our efforts to advance Christ’s saving kingdom we look to the civil sword of the flesh instead of the spiritual sword of the Spirit, we disobey Christ, and miscommunicate the nature of Christianity.

“There is a great battle to be fought in this world, and Christians are to use the weapons of the Spirit-anointed word.”

So Paul says that the weapons of our warfare are not “fleshly” (sarkika) but are rather “powerful by God” (dunata tō theō). He appears to have in mind the Spirit-anointed preaching of Christian truth, which would “destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God” (verse 5).

Therefore, 2 Corinthians 10:3–5 stands against the temptation to use the powers of civil government to destroy opinions raised against the true God. For example, this text would stand in the way of using civil authority to punish blasphemy. There is a great battle to be fought in this world, and Christians are to use the weapons of the Spirit-anointed word, not the weapons of the state.

5. The kingdom was taken from a nation and given to the church.

Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a nation [ethnei] producing its fruits. (Matthew 21:43)

You are . . . a holy nation [ethnos hagion] . . . that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. (1 Peter 2:9)

Now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of sexual immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or swindler — not even to eat with such a one. (1 Corinthians 5:11)

Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. (1 Corinthians 6:9–11)

The coming of Christ brought about a change in the way the visible people of God are constituted in this world. No longer are God’s visible people the political and ethnic people of Israel. Instead, God’s special saving action was taken away from Israel as a group and focused on the church.

This is the meaning of Matthew 21:43. Jesus interprets the parable of the vineyard as a parable of Israel’s fruitlessness and consequent loss of the saving rule of God: “The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a nation [ethnei] producing its fruits.” This “nation” is the church of Jesus Christ. As Robert Gundry puts it, “The church is called ‘a nation’ because it will replace the nation of Israel with disciples from all nations, blended together into a new people of God.”4 Hence Peter calls the church “a holy nation [ethnos hagion]” (1 Peter 2:9).

The changes in the kingdom moving from Israel to the church are many.

The church is made up of all nations not just one (Matthew 28:19–20; Colossians 3:11; Romans 4:10–11; 9:24–25; Galatians 3:28; Ephesians 2:11–22; 3:6).
All believers are priests (1 Peter 2:9; Revelation 1:6; 5:10).
The sacrificial system ends with the perfect and final sin-bearing sacrifice of Christ (Hebrews 7:27; 9:12; 10:10).
The food laws give way to Christian freedom (Mark 7:19).
Circumcision is no longer required as the mark of belonging to the people of God (Galatians 2:3).

And the theocratic warrant for the civil punishment of execution for unrepentant idolaters, adulterers, and homosexuals, for example, is replaced with excommunication from the church. The hoped-for aim of excommunication is repentance and restoration, and therefore it does not look to the state to complete capital punishment for the sake of the church.

Here are texts showing the legitimacy of capital punishment for idolaters, adulterers, and active homosexuals in the old theocratic regime of Israel:

Joash said to all who stood against him, “Will you contend for Baal? Or will you save him? Whoever contends for him shall be put to death by morning.” (Judges 6:31; see also Leviticus 24:16; Deuteronomy 17:2–5)

If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death. (Leviticus 20:10)

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them. (Leviticus 20:13)

Under the spiritual reign of Christ in the New Testament, idolatry is made more serious not by greater punishments but by being identified with the condition of the heart expressed in sins like covetousness. “Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry” (Colossians 3:5).

The seriousness of adultery is intensified by being identified with the lust of the heart. “I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28).

Homosexual practice was classed with these sins of the “unrighteous.” And all three (idolatry, adultery, homosexual practice, in addition to others) were seen as serious enough to keep one out of the kingdom of God:

Neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality . . . will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God. (1 Corinthians 6:9–11)5

Under the new-covenant reign of Christ, the way the people of God deal with the sins of idolatry, adultery, and homosexual behavior is first to seek repentance. When this happens, there is restoration. We see this in the gracious statement “such were some of you” (1 Corinthians 6:11). But if the idolaters, adulterers, and active homosexuals are unrepentant, the path forward is church discipline leading, if necessary, to excommunication.

It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and of a kind that is not tolerated even among pagans, for a man has his father’s wife. And you are arrogant! Ought you not rather to mourn? Let him who has done this be removed from among you. . . . You are to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord. (1 Corinthians 5:1–2, 5)

Excommunication had in view either repentance leading to salvation and, if possible, restoration (1 Corinthians 5:5; 2 Corinthians 2:6–10; 2 Thessalonians 3:14–15), or Christ’s capital punishment on the last day.

As for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death. (Revelation 21:8; see also 2 Thessalonians 1:8)

The fact that murderers, for example, are rightly punished by the state in this present age does not contradict the point here, because in punishing murderers the state is not functioning as an explicitly Christian agent of the Christian faith. This action of the state is not an aspect of Christ’s rule over his church. When the state punishes a murderer, it should not do so in the explicit advancement of religious faith — Christian or otherwise.

Jesus did not teach that the kingdom was taken from Israel and given to the civil government of each nation. He said it was taken from Israel and given to the church (Matthew 21:43). And in the process, he put in place a new way that God now rules his people until the second coming of Christ. So there can be no straight line drawn from the Old Testament laws and punishments to the present day. The state is not in continuity with Israel. And the people of Christ — the new holy nation — is a differently constituted “Israel.”

6. A ‘Christian state’ obscures the true nature of Christianity.

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness. So you also outwardly appear righteous to others, but within you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness. (Matthew 23:27–28)

Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin. (Romans 14:23)

Christ hates hypocrisy. He pronounces woes on those who think outward conformity to religious tradition without the inward reality of faith is a Christian aim. It misses the point to observe that hypocritical, law-abiding neighborhoods are preferable to deadly anarchy. Christians don’t operate with those options. We live and die to proclaim, “First clean the inside of the cup and the plate, that the outside also may be clean” (Matthew 23:26). “Put away all . . . hypocrisy” (1 Peter 2:1). It is good when governments restrain the harm humans do to other humans. But that is not the Christian message, nor is it a strategy for advancing the Christian faith.

When the state encourages external forms of righteousness in the name of Christ and as an expression of the “Christian” way, it obscures the true nature of Christianity, and does harm to the cause of Christ. It gives the impression that such an ethic is “Christian” when the essentials of vital faith and love to Christ are missing (without which there is no truly Christian ethic, Romans 14:23). This implies that Christians should seek ways of minimizing, rather than cultivating, a cultural Christianity, which may restrain some outward evil with a veneer of Christianity, but also may lead millions into the false assurance that they are in God’s favor when they are not.

7. The sword of government is not for establishing true religion.

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience. For because of this you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed. (Romans 13:1–7)

Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good. For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor. (1 Peter 2:13–17)

In view of all we have seen about the new way that Christ governs his people under the new covenant, it would be unwarranted to infer from these passages that the civil government is intended by God to use its sword (Romans 13:4) in the explicitly Christian service of establishing or advancing the Christian religion.

It is an unwarranted leap to jump from the statement that governments are “to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good” (1 Peter 2:14; cf. Romans 13:3–4) to the conclusion that the “good” in view refers to explicit expressions of Christian faith, and the “evil” in view refers to explicit expressions of being non-Christian. In other words, the following syllogism is invalid:

Premise 1: Civil government is to reward the good and punish the bad.

Premise 2: Explicit expressions of Christian faith are good, and explicit expressions of being non-Christian are bad.

Conclusion: Therefore, the civil government should take up its Christian duty for Christ’s sake and reward deeds because they express Christianity, and punish deeds because they do not.

That is not a valid syllogism. The conclusion does not follow from the premises. It is not at all clear that the good and evil in premise 1 are the same as the good and evil in premise 2. Nor is it clear that the rewards and punishments should be bestowed as acts of Christian advocacy.

We have seen in the previous six sections that there are numerous reasons why we should not infer from Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 that governments are ordained by God to be an arm of Christianity to establish God’s kingdom with the sword. There are also pointers in these texts themselves that the good that governments are to praise does not imply they must be expressions of Christian faith. Rather, it is likely that in Romans 13:1–7 the “good work” (tō agathō ergō) in verse 3a and the “doing good” (to agothon poiei) in verse 3b refer to civic good deeds that were widely respected by non-Christians. I say this for several reasons:

These good deeds get the praise of pagan rulers (verse 3, hexeis epainon), who care nothing for Christian, spiritual reality.
Similarly, in 1 Peter 2:15 “doing good” (agathopoiountas) is designed to silence foolish pagan criticism, presumably by appealing not to their respect for Christian faith, but to their respect for civic good deeds.
These good deeds are part of the summons to be subject to pagan rulers (see the “therefore” at the beginning of Romans 13:5, dio), who would not care if the deeds were expressions of Christianity, but only that they were beneficial according to their own pagan standards.
The term “good works” (Romans 13:3) is regularly a reference to practical acts of mercy for those in need (Acts 9:36; 1 Timothy 2:10; 5:10; etc.), which the rulers would approve of as the same kind of practical helpfulness unbelievers are capable of and admire.
Submission and good behavior are fleshed out in the particulars of verse 7 (taxes, revenue, fear, honor), which from the standpoint of the pagan rulers would simply have been ordinary acts of civic responsibility, not acts of obedience to the Christian God.

For these reasons, together with the other points in this essay, it is not warranted to claim that Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 teach that civil government is ordained by God to use its sword for the establishment or advance of the Christian religion as such.

8. Christ himself will punish blasphemy and idolatry in the last day.

God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you, and to grant relief to you who are afflicted as well as to us, when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might, when he comes on that day to be glorified in his saints, and to be marveled at among all who have believed, because our testimony to you was believed. (2 Thessalonians 1:6–10)

The mystery of lawlessness is already at work. Only he who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way. And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will kill with the breath of his mouth and bring to nothing by the appearance of his coming. (2 Thessalonians 2:7–8)

I include this section only to make explicit that the Christian renunciation of magisterial punishments for idolatry and blasphemy does not mean such punishments will never happen. They will be performed by the one Person who has the proper right and wisdom to do so, Jesus Christ, at his second coming.

There will be capital punishment for non-Christian beliefs. The prerogative to perform such punishment belongs to Christ. There is no warrant in the New Testament for the church or the state to use force against non-Christian beliefs or against outward expressions of such beliefs that are not crimes on other counts.

Conclusion: God’s New Administration

Jesus is Lord. In his providence, he rules all that comes to pass — from gnats to nations to nebulae. In his saving power, he rules his people by his Spirit through his word. With the coming of the Messiah, the Son of God, Jesus Christ, into the world, the kingdom of God was taken from Israel and given to the church (Matthew 21:43). In that transition, a new “administration” of God’s saving rule in the world was put in place.

Paul describes his purpose as an apostle this way:

To me . . . this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan [or administration, oikonomia] of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things, so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 3:8–10)

This new administration of God’s reign would not pursue the manifestation of God’s wisdom by using the powers of civil government as Christian enforcement of biblical faith. Rulers and authorities, in heaven and on earth, would be confronted with the spiritual power of Christ’s kingdom. But the faithful subjects of Christ’s kingdom would not look to the powers of civil government to give explicit Christian defense of or support to the Christian faith as such.6

This commitment to renounce reliance on state advocacy for the Christian faith is not in the service of so-called secular neutrality. It is in obedience to God’s word and in celebration of the Christ-exalting way he intends to rule the world without the weapons of the world, but for the glory of his name.

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast. This week we’re looking at controversy. We opened the week looking at the sick love of controversy. In APJ 1949, on Monday, we looked at this disease called “craving for controversy,” as Paul calls it in 1 Timothy 6:4.

Today we look at how to best speak of a culture’s sins — when we must do so. Such work is complicated by the fact that Paul seems to tell us there are some sins in a culture that are simply too wicked and too “shameful” to even speak of. That’s according to Ephesians 5:12, at least on the surface of it. So what shameful sins should Christians not even speak about? The question is from a listener named Dan.

“Pastor John, hello to you! I am an elder at my church, and I was thinking about how sin is to be addressed by Christian preachers, both pastorally to the congregation and in calling out the sins of culture. What advice would you give preachers on how to avoid merely complaining or going off on angry rants about cultural sins, and how to wisely identify and call for repentance from sins inside the church? So what cultural sins do we expose and speak out against? What cultural sins do we ignore or refrain from talking about because of their vulgarity? And how do you think preachers in local churches will best balance addressing the sins of culture and the sins in the pew?”

This is an important question because the sinfulness of contemporary society is today more outlandish than it has been for hundreds of years in America — and more in your face because of the ubiquity of social media and online streaming and advertising. Those two facts — outlandish and ubiquitous — are a strong temptation for a pastor to vent his anger and frustration at the degeneration of the world, so that the pulpit runs the risk of becoming not a place mainly of exultation over the glories of God in Christ, but a place of irritation and condemnation of the insanity that is going on out there in the world. A pastor can feel that things are so bad that if he does not linger over the latest grossness of evil, it will look like he’s going soft on sin.

Sounding the Right Note

So, it’s good for us to think about how to speak of sins in the world and sins in the church and yet sound the dominant note of amazement at the glories of the grace of God in Christ, so that that’s what people walk away with on Sunday morning — namely, we are amazed here at the beauty and the glory of the grace of God in Christ.

There is surely a reason why Paul said to the Philippians, who were threatened by legalistic dogs who wanted to ravage their faith (Philippians 3:2), and by “enemies of the cross of Christ” whose “end is destruction, [whose] god is their belly, and [who] glory in their shame” (Philippians 3:18–19) — there’s a reason why Paul said precisely to this embattled church, surrounded by so much belly-god debauchery, “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things” (Philippians 4:8).

We are not to be consumed emotionally or attentively with the latest drag queen strutting among the 4-year-olds or the latest butchery to the genitals of 8-year-olds. There is a fitting groaning and tears over the wickedness of these things, but if it consumes us, we have lost our bearings and need to go back to Christ. Think about this. Paul said, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice” (Philippians 4:4). He said that seven verses after saying, “[I] tell you even with tears, [they] walk as enemies of the cross of Christ” (Philippians 3:18). That’s amazing.

Sins Outside and Inside

So, let’s take Ephesians 5:3–12 as an example of how Paul deals with sins outside and inside the church in his preaching. Here’s what he says.

Sexual immorality and all impurity [and he had a lot of gross stuff in that word] must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk and crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.

That is, fill your mouth up with something positive so it pushes out all the filthiness and foolishness and crudeness.

For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. Let no one deceive you [and he’s talking about believers here] with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience.

See the connection there? You watch out — you Christians watch out for deception. And then he calls those whom he’s really talking about “sons of disobedience,” which means unbelievers.

Therefore do not become partners with them; for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light . . . and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret.

Uncontaminated Exposing

So, here you have Paul naming the sins of the world: sexually immoral, impure, covetous. And then he warns the saints not to be partners with them. So he’s not just grandstanding against those bad people out there; he’s concerned about the church. “You are saints now. You are in the kingdom of Christ now. You are the children of light now.” But he doesn’t draw the inference from this, “Well, all we need to do is stand aloof, castigate the world.” Rather, he makes the sins of the world an occasion for warning the saints. “We are vulnerable. If you partner with them in those sins, you too will come under the wrath of God.”

“There’s a way to expose the sins of the world without being verbally contaminated.”

And then he closes with something paradoxical. He says, “Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret” (Ephesians 5:11–12). So, there’s a way to expose the sins of the world without being verbally contaminated. “It’s shameful even to speak of them,” Paul says. Which I think means it’s shameful to find pleasure in talking about them, lingering over them with excessive attention. It is possible to find pleasure — we’re just so deceived on things like this; we can deceive ourselves so easily — in talking about the things we hate. Isn’t that awful? It’s possible to find pleasure in talking about the things we hate. God doesn’t want this. That’s not good.

So, the right way to summarize that paradox would go something like this, I think: Expose, but don’t gloat. Expose, but don’t linger. Expose, but weep. Expose, but pray. Expose, but don’t grovel in the mire, even in the name of mocking the mire. Some people think they’re justified in lingering in the mire by spending a lot of time finding clever ways to put it down. Expose, but then return quickly to the clean, clear, holy, happy air of the mountains of Christ’s fellowship.

Overcome Evil with Good

I have just three more bullet points, observations that might give some more guidance on how to deal with sins outside the church.

“Expose, but then return quickly to the clean, clear, holy, happy air of the mountains of Christ’s fellowship.”

First, when you deal with them, do it in a serious, biblical way. That is, do a biblical analysis, a careful analysis, a thoughtful analysis for why they are sin. Some sins we think are so gross, so harmful that we don’t need to give any kind of biblical analysis or rationale for their rejection. I think that’s a mistake, because it tends to make us think simply on a par with conservative unbelievers. That’s not a good place to be for a Christian, simply on a par with conservative unbelievers. But a biblical analysis would get to the root of how the sin relates to God and to Christ. And our dealing with the sin then would be seen as a passion for God’s glory and Christ’s majesty, his mercy, not just our proper gobsmack at the outrage.

Second, keep in mind 1 Corinthians 5:12–13: “What have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside.”

Third and finally, aim at the fullest experience possible of Romans 12:21: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Recently, a friend asked me to share some advice for how to be a caring presence for people experiencing deep emotional pain. He didn’t ask this because I’m a trained counselor or therapist — I’m not. He asked because, even from my high school days, people have sought my help in dealing with all manner of difficult, complex, and sensitive afflictions.

As I thought back over decades, dear faces and names came to mind — most of them remarkable, loving, spiritually earnest, bright, kind Christians — who at some point found themselves facing the kinds of tribulations that afflict and sometimes overwhelm us as fallen humans. I’ve had the painful privilege of walking alongside them as they endured debilitating depression, suicidal despair, tormenting mental illnesses, deep inner wounds from past sexual abuse, various kinds of undesired and dismaying sexual dysphoria, spiritually dark and disorienting faith crises, and more.

I mean it when I say it’s been a privilege. It is no small thing when others entrust us with some of the most tender, vulnerable parts of their souls.

None of this, however, qualifies me to speak as some kind of expert soul physician — because I’m not one. This is something I think I can speak to not because I’m an expert, but because I have some extensive experience. And since we’re all called at times to the ministry of being a caring presence for someone in pain (as well as receiving such care when we’re in pain), we can share lessons we’ve learned with each other. So, what might I say to my 20-year-old self if I had ten minutes to counsel him on how to be a caring presence for sufferers?

Caring Presence

In the Christian sense, a caring presence is someone who listens carefully and sympathetically to troubled souls in order to accurately understand the nature of their affliction and struggle, and then eventually seeks to help them put it in biblical perspective and see (or remember) how their suffering fits into God’s redemptive, providential purposes. In other words, the primary care we’re called to offer a suffering saint is hope.

“The primary care we’re called to offer a suffering saint is hope.”

When our souls are in turmoil, we all crave peace. And the peace we crave doesn’t come from having all our why questions answered, but it’s a peace that surpasses understanding, a peace that comes only from the God of peace (Philippians 4:7). This peace comes from the hope that God is working all things, even (especially!) our suffering, together for our ultimate good (Romans 8:28) — a hope that comes only from the God of hope (Romans 15:13). Good Christian soul care always aims to help a hurting person “hope in God” (Psalm 42:11).

In such a short space, I can’t give much specific advice on how to counsel a suffering soul, because so much depends on what someone is suffering and why. I can share some brief reflections about being the kind of caring presence a hurting person can turn to in dark moments. And to do that, I’ll use Micah 6:8 as a framework:

He has told you, O man, what is good;     and what does the Lord require of youbut to do justice, and to love kindness,     and to walk humbly with your God?

A deeply just, kind, and humble person has the fundamental qualities required to be the caring presence a suffering person needs. But for reasons that will become clear in a few moments, I will address these requirements in reverse order: humility, kindness, and justice.

Discernible Humility

I’m beginning with humility because of these words from Jesus:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:28–29)

Weary, burdened souls didn’t come to Jesus just because he proclaimed himself “gentle and lowly.” They were already coming to him because they could discern, from observing and listening to him, that he was someone who offered them the rest and safety they craved. Jesus had a gentleness about him that sprung out of a fundamental lowliness that made him approachable — a safe person to come to for those longing to escape the burdens they bore from external oppression and internal sin and disorders.

A fundamental humility is also what makes a disciple of Jesus approachable. A disciple who walks humbly with God shares with Jesus a high view of God’s holiness (Psalm 130:3–4; Hebrews 12:28–29), the doctrine of sin (Romans 3:23), the fallen nature of the world (Romans 8:20–21), and God’s fathomless mercy in the gospel (Romans 5:6–11). This disciple “can deal gently” with other struggling souls “since he himself is beset with weakness” (Hebrews 5:2). Having a clear-eyed grasp of our own depravity and desperate need for God’s mercy means we won’t be shocked when we’re confronted with someone else’s.

If weary souls burdened by false teaching, disorders, and sin discern in us, as many did in Jesus, an authentic humility that manifests in the ways we gently deal with others, they are likely to come to us for the help — the hope — they need.

Loving Kindness

In 1 Corinthians 13, what were the first words Paul chose when describing the nature of Christlike love? “Love is patient and kind” (1 Corinthians 13:4). Scripture, of course, teaches that love is far more than patience and kindness, but it’s worth keeping in mind that these were foremost on the apostle’s mind as he, under the Spirit’s inspiration, wrote his profound, beautiful description of what it looks like when we love one another.

Such descriptions of Christian love are laced through Paul’s writings. For instance, Colossians 3:12 says, “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” It’s clear that God’s children are to love kindness.

That’s because God loves kindness. Not only do we see this in Jesus, but we see it in God’s most famous Old Testament self-description: “The Lord, the Lord God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in lovingkindness and truth” (Exodus 34:6 NASB 1995). It is, after all, the kindness of God that leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4).

So, if distressed souls discern that we, like God, love kindness, that we have a disposition to extend mercy, grace, and patience to those who need them, they are likely to come to us for the help — the hope — they need.

Judicious Counsel

What does it mean “to do justice” to a person experiencing significant emotional pain? One crucial thing it means is to be as judicious — as wise, prudent, honest — as possible with any counsel we give. What does this look like?

A judicious counselor is careful. Whenever we are ministering to another soul, especially a suffering soul, we must remember that “death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21). Our words can heal or wound, reveal truth or obscure it. Therefore, it’s imperative that we be “quick to hear [and] slow to speak” (James 1:19). I’ve learned from experience that there is often more going on in a person than I initially perceive. To adequately understand the nature of someone’s struggle and situation requires patient listening and good clarifying questions.

A judicious counselor is truthful. There are many dimensions to truthfulness, but I’m going to focus on one common pitfall for counselors: the temptation to speak more than we actually know or to claim that we identify with the sufferer’s experience more than we actually do.

“When others come to us for help, that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re the best person to help them.”

When others come to us for help, that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re the best person to help them. Perhaps God has equipped us to provide them some helpful insight, or perhaps our calling is to guide them toward someone better equipped to help them. Either way, we must be honest and forthright about the limits of our knowledge and experience and not speak authoritatively about topics of which we have little understanding. This is why I addressed the qualities of humility and kindness first. Humility helps guard us from the pride of presuming we are wiser than we are or of desiring the admiration of suffering people more than we desire their well-being. And kindness helps us keep the well-being of sufferers — their finding hope in God — our foremost priority.

Lastly, a judicious counselor is trustworthy. As I said earlier, it is no small thing when others entrust us with tender, vulnerable parts of their souls. Therefore, we must vigilantly guard what they share with us in confidence, even if it requires us to “swear to [our] own hurt” (Psalm 15:4). For “a gossip betrays a confidence, but a trustworthy person keeps a secret” (Proverbs 11:13 NIV). Only in the most extreme and rare cases, when someone’s safety is at stake, do integrity and love demand that we share necessary information with the appropriate parties and authorities.

If souls in anguish over sensitive kinds of suffering discern that we are a judicious counselor and will handle what they confide in us carefully, truthfully, and in a trustworthy way, they are likely to come to us for the help and hope they need.

Where Care Begins

Obviously, volumes more could be (and have been) written about how to care well for those suffering significant emotional pain, but it all begins with being the kind of person that others can trust with their suffering. That kind of person hopes in God, is discernibly humble, loves kindness, and is judicious in the ways he or she treats suffering saints. That kind of person is very likely to be a caring presence for weary, burdened souls and to help them find the peace and hope that only God can provide.

After six humid summers in Burma (now Myanmar), where temperatures topped 100 degrees, Adoniram Judson (1788–1850) hadn’t seen a single convert. Malaria, dysentery, and other diseases threatened the weary American and eventually took the lives of several members of his beloved family. Excruciating trials on top of terrible disappointments punctuated his 38 years of gospel labor.

What kept Judson going as he ran into hard circumstances and hard hearts? Judson explained to his dear friend Luther Rice, “An almighty and faithful God will perform his promises.” Judson rooted his hope in God’s ability and commitment to save sinners.

While the global landscape has changed dramatically since Judson’s day, the human heart has not. Today’s mission field requires men and women who, like Judson, stake everything on the fact that God alone can and will perform his saving promises.

Missionaries as Midwives

Only God can enliven dead hearts. The biblical doctrine of regeneration teaches that, in connection with hearing the gospel proclaimed (Romans 10:14), the Holy Spirit brings a sinner’s spiritually dead soul to life (Ephesians 2:1, 8–9). His quickening alone enables a sinner to repent and believe. In other words, regeneration by the Holy Spirit leads to saving faith. The Holy Spirit’s work does not merely make faith possible; it makes faith certain. No one whom the Holy Spirit regenerates fails to come to faith in Christ (Romans 8:30), and no one comes to faith in Christ apart from the Spirit first remaking his rebel heart.

Grasping this doctrine gives a missionary the privilege of proclaiming the gospel that brings new birth. It also relieves him of the burden of believing it’s up to him to produce conversions. A faithful missionary is like a midwife who supports the mother as she ushers her child into the world. While the missionary’s job is not to resurrect the dead, he does play a God-ordained role in a sinner’s rebirth. God graciously uses means to accomplish his salvation plan; therefore, missionaries help the helpless on their path to new and everlasting life by declaring the gospel.

On the mission field, knowing this difference between what a missionary does and doesn’t accomplish among the lost is essential — and the implications may be eternal.

Guarding the Gospel

Just as a missionary headed to a foreign land vaccinates against potential diseases, adopting a midwife mentality inoculates the missionary from both distorting the gospel message and deploying dangerous means toward noble ends. Missionaries long to see unreached people turn “from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven” (1 Thessalonians 1:9–10), but good intentions can go awry if left unguarded by sound doctrine.

It was the apostle Paul’s conviction that God alone can shine gospel light into dark hearts that kept him from surrendering to discouragement, tampering with God’s word, or doing ministry in “underhanded ways” (2 Corinthians 4:1–6). Because Paul understood that only God authors life, he committed himself to declaring the truth openly — no matter the cost (2 Corinthians 4:2). Paul didn’t distort the gospel message or use methods that dilute its truth because he was confident in God’s ability to revive dead hearts through his own word.

Today’s missionaries face threats of both gospel dilution and gospel distortion because an anemic doctrine of regeneration threatens gospel clarity. Some missionaries insist on rapid, contrived methods for converting people and for measuring that growth. Others baptize “converts” from Muslim backgrounds who do not confess or understand Jesus to be the Son of God. Syncretism fundamentally refuses to rely on the power of God for conversion. Rather than accept their role as midwives who have a front-row seat to God’s resurrection power, too many missionaries try to take over his position.

“The work of converting souls is God’s from beginning to end.”

A biblical view of regeneration also defends missionaries against pride. It frees us to labor in the humility that Jonah found only in the belly of the great fish, where he finally accepted that “salvation belongs to the Lord” (Jonah 2:9) — not to us. Though our enemy would have us think otherwise, we are God’s servants by grace, not by necessity. Midwives may be helpful, but they are not primary. Missionaries may walk alongside the person God saves, but missionaries don’t produce anyone’s salvation. The work of converting souls is God’s from beginning to end.
Embracing this truth destroys pride.

Empowering Faithfulness

A biblical perspective on regeneration does more than protect. It empowers missionaries to walk in faithfulness for the long haul. The midwife doesn’t run when the labor becomes difficult. When the birth pains intensify, her presence is most strategic and needed.

Rightly understanding regeneration equips missionaries with the discipline to be prayerfully patient — to persevere when persecution, or monotony, intensifies. What kept the great missionaries of history — like Amy Carmichael, David Livingstone, and William Carey — laboring in the hardest fields with patience? They knew that one person plants and another waters, but God gives the growth (1 Corinthians 3:6). His growing power encourages missionaries to play their part over months and years, trusting God will supply the advance in his time. Missionaries are not in charge of when God delivers on his promises any more than a midwife decides when a child will be born. Both balance expectation and patience as they wait.

Pragmatism is a great temptation on the field. A missionary’s dreams of converting the unreached can quickly melt into disappointments. God often makes his choice laborers more aware of setbacks than successes. In those times, missionaries must lean on what was true for Paul and Judson, because it’s still true for us. Despite his suffering, Paul knew that no disappointment, discouragement, or dark heart has ever prevented God’s power to shine forth “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). The supernatural reality that God authors life in deserts of death redirects our focus from the seen to the unseen.

Raising Expectations

In God’s kindness, a missionary’s hope isn’t denied; it’s just sometimes deferred. What we can’t see today will become clear in eternity. God’s sovereign work means that he alone determines the depth and breadth of a missionary’s ministry. Who knows if God has called you to till very hard soil today so that he might produce enduring, unimaginable fruit after many tomorrows? The biblical view of regeneration showers the missionary with the confidence to labor expectantly, knowing we serve a God who will vindicate himself and his servants by melting hearts of stone. We will see that vindication fully in the next life.

“Our responsibility is simply to proclaim the life that God alone can give.”

If the New Testament shows us that the normal Christian life is costly, how much more costly might the mission field prove? And yet, the same New Testament reveals that missionaries can persevere for the long haul — even when we sacrifice the comforts of our homes only to meet disappointments and dead hearts. For missionaries, God’s power to give life means that whether Jonah is caught in the belly of a fish or Paul is clinging to a plank in the sea (Acts 27:43–44), no circumstance or human heart lies beyond his sovereign directing.

If you feel alone on the mission field, or if the hard soil seems to mock your efforts, lean into your role as a spiritual midwife: as a missionary who comes alongside the work God is doing, knowing that he has been doing that work since long before you arrived on the scene. We can’t manufacture conversions, and we shouldn’t try — because the outcome is not on our shoulders. Our responsibility is simply to proclaim the life that God alone can give.