Some people have written bestsellers documenting their entrance into heaven. They claim to have died and returned to tell us what they saw. Suffice it to say, their accounts rarely match accounts of similar events recorded in Scripture. Those taken into the throne room — like Isaiah, for example — do not tell us about seeing their favorite loved ones or eating their favorite snacks.

“In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne” (Isaiah 6:1), Isaiah begins. He details how the end of this King’s robe filled the entire temple. He documents mighty beings lit on fire, flying around the King’s throne, shouting, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of armies.” The foundations tremble at the sound of their thunderous voices (Isaiah 6:1–4).

Isaiah does not sigh with relief, or whistle for his long-lost dog. Eyes from the throne pierce him like sword thrusts. The prophet, in response, calls down a curse upon himself: “Woe is me! For I am lost” (Isaiah 6:5).

Isaiah unravels before the Holy One who knows him completely: every sin, every twisted motive, every secret deed. He throws the gavel down upon himself and immediately pleads guilty. Did he even know what sin was before this moment?

And as Isaiah sees what I take to be the preincarnate Son upon the throne (John 12:41), he smites himself for, of all things, the use of his tongue.

Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of armies! (Isaiah 6:5)

His eyes see the Holy King of Israel, the God of armies, and he does not run to sit on his lap, but falls to his face, confessing the evil, not only of his tongue, but of the tongues he lived among on earth. Here he did not lament that he dwelled among a people of sexual immorality, murder, or idolatry. What he said, and what the people said — their conversation — horrified him before the Righteous One.

The Sin of Careless Speech

If we each saw the Lord today, we would dread how unclean our mouths have been. Take inventory of yourself: hasty words, cursing words, violent words, lustful words, blaspheming words, false words, lying words, gossiping words, flattering words, harsh and belittling words. Just how many rats have proceeded from that sewer?

Paul, in bringing all humanity under condemnation before God, quotes the Psalms to indict us:

“Their throat is an open grave;     they use their tongues to deceive.”“The venom of asps is under their lips.”“Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness.” (Romans 3:13–14)

But this is the Old Testament, we may think. Isaiah and the psalmists didn’t know Christ as we do. Their God, all lightning and thunder, had not yet fully revealed his merciful side.

Yet hear what Christ himself says:

I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned. (Matthew 12:36–37)

“If we each saw the Lord today, we would dread how unclean our mouths have been.”

In confronting the Pharisees about blaspheming the Holy Spirit, Jesus, arguing from lesser to greater, adds a category to our dark speech: careless words. Even thoughtless words — not just blasphemies against the Holy Spirit — will be measured and weighed. People will give an account of every one. All of them. Millions and millions per mouth. Recorded. Remembered. Required at the judgment seat of Isaiah’s God.

Only Human After All

What exactly are careless words?

Careless words are idle, purposeless, lazy, and useless. The Greek word for “careless” (argos) is used to describe men who stand around in the marketplace when they should be working (Matthew 20:3–7), people who go from house to house wasting time and causing trouble (1 Timothy 5:13), Cretans who do not produce the good they ought (Titus 1:12). Idle words wander about unproductive, travel around causing trouble, refuse to bless as they ought. And we will give an account for every single one.

Perhaps you share my fallen response: That seems a little excessive. We’re only human, after all.

But as Isaiah found out firsthand, that excuse will not work. Whatever thoughts he had before he saw this God, they all changed the moment he stood before the throne. The prophet voiced the sentence of death against himself. When we are tempted to think this standard too harsh, John Calvin points us in the right direction:

Many look upon this [being judged for every careless word] as too severe; but if we consider the purpose for which our tongues were made, we will acknowledge, that those men are justly held guilty who unthinkingly devote them to trifling fooleries, and prostitute them to such a purpose.

Each will give an account for exactly the reason Calvin cites: our tongues were made for glorious purposes.

Fountain of Life

I am tempted to have low expectations of judgment because I have a low view of words — a view Jesus does not share. He will review our careless words with us because he expects our words to incline toward usefulness, to yield godly effect, to be seasoned with salt, to give grace to our hearers.

To avoid blasphemy, slander, and lying is too small an aim for a human mouth. Silly, careless words also stink as sinful words because all our words ought to be worth speaking. They should work for good, produce fruit, aim at others’ benefit, and stand in unflagging support of God’s glory. Each mouth, given power of life and death (Proverbs 18:21), should be overflowing with life — and with God’s words of eternal life, even if the hearers only hear death.

“To avoid blasphemy, slander, and lying is too small an aim for a human mouth.”

Redeemed hearts and new creatures alone will beget this kind of speech. All of humanity, like Satan himself, “speaks out of [their] own character” (John 8:44). After telling the Pharisees that they cannot speak good because they are evil, Jesus offers the contrast: “The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good” (Matthew 12:35). Good words originate from good hearts, which God gives in new birth.

Learning from Seraphs

Isaiah felt crushed by the weight of a world of wicked and worthless words pressing down upon him. Seeing God and hearing the flaming voices, singular in purpose of praise, exposed Isaiah’s own life of unclean speech. In that room, profane and purposeless talk held no place.

But this did not end his story. He judged himself worthy of death, but God had more grace to give, as he does with us. A flaming messenger brought to Isaiah’s lips coals from the sacrificial altar (upon which the King himself — the Lamb of God — would rest as Isaac’s ram, slain). And when the Lord asks whom heaven should send, Isaiah turns from cursing himself for his mouth to eagerly volunteering to go forth to speak as God’s ambassador. “Here I am! Send me” (Isaiah 6:8).

Forgiveness met him as it meets us, repurposing and commissioning the mouth of even the most foolish and idle talkers. What was once given over to darkness can now be used to praise God and bless mankind. Seeing the glory of Christ banishes small purposes for redeemed tongues. And amazing grace sends us forth as the seraphs to speak of Christ.

“Would you please, please come with me? I really want you to be there. All the other moms are going.”

My daughter was pleading with me to volunteer at field day for her kindergarten class. How could I deny such an earnest request? But since I couldn’t navigate the outdoors without assistance, I had to say no once again. She nodded her head understandingly when I explained why — she was used to disappointment. She didn’t know how much I wanted to go, how I longed to connect with her at school, or how guilty I felt that she was missing out.

Before I had children, my disability primarily impacted me. I could choose what I wanted to do, and I taught myself to want only those activities that were physically possible for me. But after I had children, I was faced with more challenging responsibilities and requests, constant reminders of what I couldn’t do. I felt guilty and responsible for what my girls lacked due to my limitations.

Over the years, I’ve met other parents who also feel inadequate — financial constraints, lack of education, limited resources, one all-consuming child, their own emotional battles, familial dysfunction, or a whole litany of other struggles. Like me, they were convinced that their inabilities put their children at a disadvantage.

“God, in his infinite wisdom, has chosen us to be the parents of our children.”

Yet God, in his infinite wisdom, has chosen us to be the parents of our children.

Dependence Can Be a Strength

In my frailty, I rely more on God. I need his power and wisdom because I don’t have power and wisdom in myself. And I have discovered that since “the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Corinthians 1:25), I have unimaginable resources at my disposal.

When I ask for wisdom, God generously gives it. When I wait on the Lord, he renews my strength. When I am weary and troubled, he gives me rest. When I turn to God, he gives me everything I need.

My dependence and limitations have become my greatest strengths because they push me to pray before I answer or act. When I could easily do what my children asked, I didn’t seek God’s wisdom or help. I just responded. I didn’t consider alternatives or potential pitfalls. I assumed I had it under control.

The Israelites were once deceived by their Gibeonite neighbors, who claimed to have come from a far-off land and presented torn sacks, dried-out provisions, and worn-out clothes as proof. The Israelites “did not ask counsel from the Lord” (Joshua 9:14) because it seemed obvious what to do. I can relate to their actions, as I look back at the impulsive decisions I made without giving them much thought. Decisions I often regretted later. But when my children asked me for things that were beyond my abilities, I had to ask God for wisdom and help. Just as Jehoshaphat did when he said to the Lord, “We are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (2 Chronicles 20:12).

Weakness Made Me a Better Mom

In my weakness, I begged God for tangible, specific help and saw concrete answers to prayer. The more I asked, the more God answered. The more I needed, the more he provided. The more I sought God, the more easily I found him. I would have missed out on untold blessings had I not been so needy.

My physical condition involves increasing pain and weakness, so I daily crawled to Jesus weary and heavy laden, and he gave me rest. I had to let go of my desire to do things perfectly, to meet everyone else’s needs, to wear myself out to the point of exhaustion. I had once been Martha, pulled apart by much serving, but my disability forced me into the role of Mary (Luke 10:38–42). Yet it was only then that I discovered the richness of sitting at Jesus’s feet, trusting him with all that felt undone.

God used my weakness to make me a better mother, and to forge a deeper character in my children.

When faced with something I couldn’t do, I sometimes wondered if my daughters would have been better off in a different family. But God reassured me that I was handpicked by him to address their unique strengths and struggles. Christ equips and strengthens us for everything our children need (Philippians 4:13, 19), so we need not feel inadequate.

What God Did Through Weakness

While I’d been consumed with what I couldn’t do for my children, I almost missed what God was doing in them because of my weakness. Now I see they are both creative problem-solvers. They show up for people and keep their commitments.

They are also compassionate and caring, noticing what people need and looking out for people with differing abilities. Even as small children, they never stared or asked strangers, “What’s wrong with you?” Once, when my older daughter’s first-grade teacher dropped her papers in class, Katie immediately jumped up from her seat across the room to pick them up. None of the other students even attempted to get up. When the teacher recounted the story, I realized that God was shaping my daughters through my disability in ways I hadn’t even noticed.

My younger daughter saw the blessing of crying out to God one rainy night when I was driving her to her basketball game in a neighboring town. In the stop-and-go traffic, my leg began to give out, and there was no way to get off the road. Tears rolled down my cheeks — I felt inadequate, scared, and overwhelmed yet again.

“Our weakness could be the making of our children’s faith. They learn to rely on God for the things we cannot do.”

When Kristi realized what was happening, she immediately said aloud, “God, please make my mom’s leg feel stronger and the traffic clear up.” We took turns praying back and forth together. Within minutes, we stopped seeing red brake lights, and the cramping in my leg eased as we made it to the game just in time. On the way home, she commented on how God answered our prayers.

Our Cracks Help Them See

Our weaknesses could be the making of our children’s faith. They learn to rely on God for the things we cannot do. They watch us pray. They see our limitations. And they get a front-row seat to see how God provides. As they watch our weak and flawed earthen vessels up close, they see the surpassing power that belongs to God and not to us (2 Corinthians 4:7). In this way, our cracks help them see.

Parenting through weakness can bring God glory. As we rely on God and his grace, he shines through our lives. God’s grace is sufficient for us, and his power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). What more could we want?

Like J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress is a road trip. It recounts the journey that Christian makes from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City, along with the many encounters he has along the way. Technically, Pilgrim’s Progress comes in two parts, the second part narrating the same journey that Christian’s wife, Christiana, and her four boys make. In some notable ways, the second part offers a more balanced portrayal of the Christian journey to heaven.

Almost everyone is acquainted with Pilgrim’s Progress in some way or another because many of the characters — Worldly Wiseman, Pliable, Obstinate, Formalist, Talkative, Giant Despair — and locations — the wilderness of this world, Vanity Fair, By-Path-Meadow, Slough of Despond, Doubting Castle, Delectable Mountains — are used in everyday conversation.

Many, like C.H. Spurgeon, may boast of having read Pilgrim’s Progress many times, but what might a first-time reader expect?

Bible in Every Line

First, Pilgrim’s Progress reveals Bunyan’s belief in the absolute authority of Scripture. Nearly every line reflects a Bible verse or passage. It was Spurgeon who said that if you pricked Bunyan, his blood would be “Bibline.”

A section from the second part displays Bunyan’s esteem for Scripture, as Prudence catechizes young Matthew:

Pru. What do you think of the Bible?Mat. It is the Holy Word of God.Pru. Is there nothing written there but what you understand?Mat. Yes, a great deal.Pru. What do you do when you meet with such places therein that you do not understand?Mat. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he will please to let me know all therein that he knows will be for my good. (Pilgrim’s Progress, 228)

Losing Our Burden

Second, Pilgrim’s Progress includes a strong emphasis on conversion. A long time passes before Christian’s great burden of sin is removed, rolling down the hill and into the tomb. Why does it take Christian so long? Why the prolonged, effortful struggle with sin before finding relief and assurance? Was Bunyan attempting to suggest that this is how all conversions take place? Was he deliberately attacking a form of easy-believism, suggesting that would-be Christians needed to pass through an agonizing struggle before conversion? Bunyan was accused of such after the first edition of Pilgrim’s Progress was published in 1678.

Far from attempting some form of “preparationism” (as some view it today), however, Bunyan was telling his own story. He wrestled with the guilt of sin for several years before he came to assurance. And perhaps it is best to understand what happened when the burden fell from Christian’s shoulders as the moment when Christian was given assurance rather than the moment of his actual conversion. (It is interesting to note, in passing, that in part 2, the conversions of Christiana and the four boys are far less stressful.)

Justification for the Ungodly

Third, Pilgrim’s Progress reveals a firm grasp of substitutionary atonement. At one point, Hopeful (who lived in Vanity Fair but joins Christian following the death of Faithful in the city) is interrogated by Faithful and Christian as to his conversion. Before his death, Faithful tells Hopeful, “Unless I could obtain the Righteousness of a man that never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the Righteousness of the World could save me.” To which Christian asks, “And did you ask him what man this was, and how you must be justified by him?” This is Hopeful’s answer:

Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus Christ, that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. And thus, said he, you must be justified by him, even by trusting to what he hath done by himself in the days of his Flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the Tree. I asked him further, how that man’s Righteousness could be of that Efficacy, to justify another before God? And he told me, he was the mighty God, and did what he did; and died the Death also, not for himself but for me; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of them should be Imputed if I believed on him. (143)

The story goes on to relate how difficult it was for Hopeful to believe, and how he eventually prayed a “sinner’s prayer”:

God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; for I see, if his Righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that Righteousness, I am utterly cast away: Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world. And moreover, thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am (and I am a sinner indeed); Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy Grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ, Amen. (144)

Hopeful says he prayed this prayer “an hundred times twice told,” until at last, the Father showed him his Son.

I did not see him with my Bodily eyes, but with the eyes of my understanding; and thus it was. One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any time in my life; and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my Sins. And as I was then looking for nothing but hell, and the everlasting damnation of my Soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus looking down from Heaven upon me, and saying, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. (145)

We could go on, but this excerpt is sufficient to show the evangelical nature of Bunyan’s doctrine of conversion.

‘He Who Suffers, Conquers’

Fourth, Pilgrim’s Progress places the difficulty of the Christian life center stage. Bunyan knew all about trials. He could recall with the apostle Paul, “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). Along with a contemporary Puritan preacher, John Geere, Bunyan could have adopted as his life motto vincit qui patitur — “he who suffers,
conquers.”

Bunyan was arrested and imprisoned in 1660 for preaching illegally. He would spend the next twelve years in a prison cell in Bedford, England, and three years following his release, he would be imprisoned again for six months. Pilgrim’s Progress was begun in a prison cell and completed during his second imprisonment. During these years, he suffered bouts of deep anxiety, which one contemporary psychiatrist has labeled “obsessional disorders.”

“No one can read ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ without learning how difficult the Christian life can become.”

No one can read Pilgrim’s Progress without learning how difficult the Christian life can become. The near-suicidal few days that Christian and Faithful spend in the dungeons of Doubting Castle at the hands of Giant Despair and his equally morose wife, and the later battle scene with Apollyon, are some of the most graphic descriptions of trial and tribulation in all literature. And then there is Vanity Fair, where Beelzebub is in charge. It is here that Faithful is martyred.

To prepare Christian for the arduousness of the journey, he is initially taken to the House of Interpreter, where he is shown, among other sights, valiant men armed with swords and protected by a helmet, “cutting and hacking most fiercely” (36). All this reminds us of the portrayal of the Christian soldier in Ephesians 6.

Final River

Fifth, in true Puritan style, Pilgrim’s Progress not only prepares us to live the Christian life; it also prepares us to die the Christian’s death. The account of Hopeful and Christian crossing the river that leads to the Celestial City is among the most moving in the allegory. Surprisingly, Christian is filled with doubts at the last, and several times he sinks beneath the water, only to be rescued by his friend. Hopeful tells Christian,

These troubles and distresses that you go through in these Waters, are no sign that God hath forsaken you; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses.

And Christian responds,

Oh I see him again; and he tells me, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the Rivers, they shall not overflow thee. (159)

“‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ not only prepares us to live the Christian life; it also prepares us to die the Christian’s death.”

It has been said of eighteenth-century Methodists that they died well. Bunyan, with his pastoral heart, allowed Christian to waver a little at the end in order that his Christian readers might be given sufficient grace should they, too, waver when their time comes.

The very final paragraph in part 1 is among the most shocking that I have read. When I first read Pilgrim’s Progress, in my teens, I was not prepared for what Bunyan wrote, and I recall crying out loud, “No way!” To recount it here would require a spoiler alert, and my advice to you, if you’re reading it for the first time, is not to be tempted to read the last paragraph until you have read the whole book.