ABSTRACT: The books of 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles both tell the extended story of King David’s reign, yet they do so in strikingly different ways. Whereas the author of Samuel tells the tragic story of David’s sin and subsequent troubles, the author of Chronicles focuses almost entirely on David’s blessings. A close look at the context and audience of the two books helps to explain why they differ so significantly. The author of Samuel, writing between the nation’s division and its return from exile, needed to offer warnings and hope to an Israel facing God’s discipline. The author of Chronicles, writing after the return from exile, needed to encourage Israel toward wholehearted devotion to God in a time of blessing. Both authors offer a tour of the same reign, but they take different paths to communicate different lessons for their original audiences.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Richard Pratt, president of Thirdmill and former professor at Reformed Theological Seminary, to offer an approach for faithfully interpreting biblical narratives.

I grew up in a family that loved to tour important historical sites in the United States. I remember following my parents in a group of strangers, going to one station after another and listening to a tour guide tell stories about events that happened long before I was born. I always wanted to know more, but the intrigue was compelling, the treachery was frightening, and the jokes were funny too. What I remember most today are the subtle — and often not so subtle — patriotic lessons that the tour guides usually wove into their stories. We took a lot of those lessons home with us.

Old Testament stories are like tours, but they are sacred tours. “All Scripture is God breathed” (2 Timothy 3:16), and God “never lies” (Titus 1:2). While ordinary tour guides are notorious for mixing fact and fiction, the authors of Old Testament historical narratives never fabricated or misconstrued history for ancient Israel. Jesus and his apostles believed this to be true, and there are no more reliable witnesses. Moreover, unlike the flawed lessons ordinary tour guides often give, Old Testament authors taught fully trustworthy lessons through their tours. They selected, shaped, and arranged their narratives to give invaluable guidance for ancient Israelites to take home with them.

To explore how Old Testament authors acted like sacred tour guides, we will look at two presentations of King David’s reign in Scripture, the first in 2 Samuel and the second in 1 Chronicles.

Two Tours, Different Paths

Most of us already know a lot about David. God miraculously raised up David to be the king of Israel in the place of Saul, but when he sinned with Bathsheba, his kingdom fell into disarray. Actually, that’s a reasonably good summary of what appears in the book of 2 Samuel, but the book of 1 Chronicles gives us another, strikingly different path through David’s reign.

“Chronicles replicates, modifies, rearranges, supplements, and omits materials in Samuel in a variety of ways.”

If you’ve ever compared Samuel and Chronicles, then you already know that they do not tell the same story, even though they cover the same King David. Chronicles replicates, modifies, rearranges, supplements, and omits materials in Samuel in a variety of ways. Scholars have devoted a lot of time to analyzing thousands of smaller variations, but focusing on these details is a daunting task even for experts. Still, it isn’t difficult for anyone to discern significant differences in the paths these tours followed.

Before considering why the authors took these different paths, follow along on the two paths themselves.

Tour One: Samuel

Most of us are familiar with David’s reign in the book of Samuel, so let’s start there. By and large, interpreters agree that this book divides David’s reign in 2 Samuel 2:1–24:25 into three main sections, or to draw from our analogy, into three tour stations.

At the first station, the author of Samuel explains how David received tremendous blessings from God in the early years of his reign (2 Samuel 2:1–10:19). These chapters report David’s anointing, his widespread support in Israel, his possession of Jerusalem, and the placement of the ark there. The high points of these years of blessing were God’s covenant with David, David’s submission to the God’s plan that he would prepare for Solomon to build the temple, David’s subsequent victories, and a description of the strength of his kingdom as he ruled in Jerusalem.

The second station of the tour (2 Samuel 11:1–20:26) covers David’s later years, when he fell under severe disciplinary curses from God. David sinned with Bathsheba. The prophet Nathan confronted him and warned that the sword would never pass from his house. The rest of these chapters illustrate some of the ways Nathan’s prediction proved to be true. David’s own family members and a number of other significant figures brought terrible troubles to David’s kingdom.

The third station (2 Samuel 21:1–24:25) is often called an appendix because it consists of a topical chiastic arrangement of events that occurred throughout David’s reign. These chapters present three pairs of similar events. They open and close with two reports of David’s prayers that brought relief from Israel’s trials. Twice they draw attention to victories that David’s mighty warriors won in support of his kingdom. The centerpiece of this chiastic arrangement sets David’s psalm of deliverance in the days of Saul alongside David’s last words near the end of his reign.

Tour Two: Chronicles

Now let’s turn to the path followed in the second sacred tour of David’s reign, in 1 Chronicles 9:35–29:30. This version also divides into three main sections or stations, but it offers a different presentation of David’s kingdom.

The first station (1 Chronicles 9:35–12:40) closely resembles the book of Samuel. It also explains how David received God’s blessings for his faithful service early in his reign. Chronicles notes that David was immediately recognized as king after Saul’s death. He was anointed as king by representatives of all the tribes of Israel at Hebron. He conquered Jerusalem and continued to enjoy widespread support. This section then closes with mighty warriors from the tribes of Israel who supported David while he reigned in Jerusalem.

The second station (1 Chronicles 13:1–16:43) follows the book of Samuel less closely, but it also reports familiar blessings from God. It begins with it the well-known story of David’s failed attempt to bring the ark to Jerusalem. Following this setback, the author of Chronicles turns to a few blessings David received years earlier to remind his audience of God’s special favor toward David. The account in Chronicles then moves to David’s success in bringing the ark into Jerusalem and adds how he instructed the priests and Levites to lead worship in ways that pleased God.

The third station (1 Chronicles 17:1–29:30) begins with God making a covenant with David and David agreeing to prepare for Solomon to build the temple, as in the book of Samuel. But at this point, this tour differs dramatically from what we learn from Samuel. Rather than reporting David’s failure and troubles, the author of Chronicles elaborates on David’s devotion to preparing for Solomon’s temple. Chronicles notes that David devoted the plunder of his victories to the temple. It adds to the story of David’s sinful census that David discovered where God ordained for the temple to be built. After this, the book of Chronicles takes us on a different path through the later years of David’s reign. David charged Solomon, and he organized the Levites, the priests, and other officials for Solomon. David then commissioned the temple construction and publicly appointed Solomon. He also held a grand assembly of Israel’s leaders in which he collected large donations for the temple. After this assembly, the tour in Chronicles notes that Solomon was anointed king and served alongside David until David’s death.

On the whole then, the book of Samuel begins with David’s early years of blessings, turns to his later years of curses, and ends with an appendix of positive events throughout David’s life. By contrast, the book of Chronicles begins with David’s earlier blessings, turns to more blessings, and ends with even greater blessings in David’s reign. But did you notice how the book of Chronicles forms this second tour? The author of Chronicles omits a major focus in Samuel and replaces it with a different set of events in David’s later years.

On the one side, the author of Chronicles omits the eleven chapters of Samuel devoted to David’s sin with Bathsheba and the curses that followed (2 Samuel 11:1–21:17). Think about that for a moment. It is nearly impossible for us to mention the name David without thinking of those events. Yet Chronicles does not mention David’s sin with Bathsheba, Nathan’s rebuke, or those tragic troubles that plagued David’s kingdom throughout his later years. That’s a significant difference.

On the other side, while the book of Samuel has little to say about ways in which God blessed David in his later years, 1 Chronicles 22–29 elaborates on God’s later blessings quite a bit. The author of Chronicles added eight chapters not found in Samuel to tell the rest of the story of David’s later years. God blessed David as the king devoted himself wholeheartedly to preparing for Solomon’s temple.

This quick comparison of Samuel and Chronicles makes it clear that we are dealing with two different tours of David’s reign. They do not contradict each other because they are both God-breathed. Yet it is undeniable that they represent two substantially different versions of the king’s reign.

Two Tours, Two Lessons

I first became aware that the two sacred tours of David’s reign followed different paths as a young student, and it troubled me deeply. There was just one David. Why did the authors of Samuel and Chronicles present two versions? Perhaps it will help to compare what we see in Samuel and Chronicles with the more familiar landscape of the New Testament.

The New Testament gives us four accounts of the one life of Jesus. As we study the four Gospels carefully, we learn that they are similar in many ways, but they are also different from each other. They represent four sacred tours of Jesus’s earthly ministry. Why are they not entirely the same? We’ve all heard the answer. God led Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John to write different accounts of Jesus’s life to address four audiences facing different needs and challenges that had arisen in the early church.

A similar explanation holds for the two sacred tours of David’s reign in the books of Samuel and Chronicles. The Spirit of God ensured that the authors of these books wrote only true facts about David, but he also led them to follow different paths to give lessons that met the needs and challenges that Israel faced in two circumstances.

To understand how this is true, we have to say a few words about the human authors of Samuel and Chronicles. Who were they? For whom did they first write? What were their circumstances? What lessons did their versions of David’s reign offer? As you can imagine, answering these questions thoroughly goes far beyond the limits of our discussion here. Yet it isn’t difficult to grasp several helpful perspectives on the identities, circumstances, and purposes of these two books.

Tour One: Samuel

The book of Samuel is anonymous, so we cannot know precisely who wrote it. We can know, however, that its author was among the leaders of Israel. On many occasions, the book of Samuel indicates that its author made use of official records of Israel’s royal court. Such records were available only to a few nobles, officials, priests, Levites, and the like.

Beyond this, it is especially important for modern readers to keep in view that this book was written in the first place for other leaders in Israel. In our day, Bibles are so plentiful that we are accustomed to looking for lessons that address the personal needs of ordinary, individual believers. In ancient Israel, this was not the case. Literacy and publishing technologies were so limited in Israel that only leaders even had access to the Scriptures. Faithful leaders taught and applied the lessons of Samuel to the lives of common people. Yet the lessons of David’s reign in Samuel did not arise primarily from the personal needs of individual ancient Israelites. Rather, they arose from the conditions of the entire nation of Israel, the state of the kingdom of God in Israel.

So, what were the conditions of God’s kingdom when the book of Samuel was written? Evidences within the book itself clearly indicate that Samuel was written sometime after the division of Israel into the northern and southern kingdoms and prior to the return of a remnant of Israel from exile. On no less than five occasions, the author of Samuel acknowledges that the division had occurred (see 1 Samuel 11:8; 2 Samuel 5:5; 12:8; 21:2; 24:1). Moreover, 1 Kings picks up where the story line of Samuel ends. So the book of Samuel had to have been written before the last scene of 2 Kings. This last scene reports an event that occurred while Israel was still in exile (see 2 Kings 25:25–30).

God graciously sustained Israel during these centuries between the nation’s division and the return from exile, but by and large conditions were dire. It was a period largely characterized by God’s judgments against the kingdom of Israel. The nation was divided. The northern and southern kingdoms faced economic insecurity, threats of war, and foreign dominance. In the end, the Assyrians defeated northern Israel and exiled most of its population. Later, the Babylonians destroyed the temple and Jerusalem, and most of Judah’s population was exiled from the promised land as well.

Throughout these centuries, God sent prophets to bring his word to Israel, and the author of Samuel aligns himself with these prophets by weaving the themes of their proclamations into his stories. The prophets repeatedly explained that the troubles of the nation came from God’s responses to the failures of Israel’s leaders, especially the house of David, to lead the nation in righteousness. The prophets called for repentance, but Israel repeatedly spurned their message. As a result, severe judgments fell on the nation time and again and eventually led to exile from the promised land. Nevertheless, the prophets also assured Israel that one day, when they repented, God would bring their exile to an end. He would fulfill his promises to David by raising up a righteous son of David who would suffer and die for the sins of his people. This king would rise in victory, restore the nation in the promised land, rebuild their kingdom, and lead them into victory throughout the earth.

The author of Samuel wrote his account of David’s reign in the spirit of these prophets. Israel was suffering under curses from God. His record of David’s early years of blessing demonstrated God’s special favor toward David and his house. He raised up David as Israel’s king in Jerusalem and made a covenant to establish David’s house as the permanent royal dynasty over his people.

The record of David’s later years of curses from God explained why Israel was suffering. Their trials were rooted in the troubles that David’s rebellion introduced to the nation, and they continued generation after generation because the sons of David rebelled against God.

Still, like the prophets of Israel, the author of Samuel offered hope for Israelites under God’s curses as he wrote the appendix to his book. Despite the failures and troubles of David’ house, Israel must have faith that God will keep his covenant with David. He will raise up a righteous king from his royal line to bring God’s immeasurable blessings to the nation of Israel.

The author of Samuel called for faith in God’s promise to David throughout his appendix, but he did this most forcefully in David’s last words in 2 Samuel 23:1–7. There, David proclaimed to Israel that when their king

“rules justly over men,         ruling in the fear of God,he dawns on them like the morning light,         like the sun shining forth on a cloudless morning,like rain that makes grass to sprout from the earth.         For does not my house stand so with God?For he has made with me an everlasting covenant,         ordered in all things and secure.” (2 Samuel 23:3–5)

The hope of Israel was to long and pray for this kind of son of David.

Tour Two: Chronicles

As crucial as the instruction of the book of Samuel was for Israel prior to the end of the exile, we have seen that the Spirit of God led the author of Chronicles to write a different version of David’s reign. His book is also anonymous, but his use of royal records indicates that the author of Chronicles was also a leader in Israel. Moreover, the author of Chronicles refers to an assortment of records that were available only to leaders, suggesting that ordinary people did not have access to his book. He wrote to guide the kingdom of Israel, not to meet individuals’ needs.

When did the author of Chronicles write his book? The book itself indicates that he lived after Israel had been released from exile in Babylon. The opening genealogies close with reports of people who had returned to Jerusalem (see 1 Chronicles 9:1–34). The closing scene of the book rehearses how Cyrus ordered Israel to return and to build their temple in Jerusalem (see 2 Chronicles 36:22–23). Now, we cannot be certain precisely in which year or decade the author of Chronicles wrote. Yet Chronicles was written in relatively hopeful days of blessing. The exile had ended; a remnant had returned. The author wrote to call more Israelites to return to Jerusalem, to rebuild the temple, and to set the priests and Levites in order under the leadership of David’s house.

The author of Chronicles weaves into his account of David’s reign the central themes of prophets who spoke hopeful words from God after Israel’s return. We have in mind here especially Haggai and Zechariah, both of whom called on Zerubbabel, a descendant of David, to lead Israel toward the goal of restoring the kingdom of God. As the representative of David’s house, Zerubbabel was to welcome the return of more Israelites, to lead the reconstruction of the temple and the reestablishment of proper worship in Jerusalem in preparation for the great Messiah to come. The Spirit of God led the author of Chronicles to confirm these priorities for Israel through his tour of David’s reign. He wrote to affirm the practical program of reconstruction begun in the days of Zerubbabel as the path toward God’s blessings.

“The first audience of Chronicles needed to follow David’s example in their day.”

Understanding this historical context helps us grasp why the author of Chronicles took Israel on a different tour of David’s reign. In comparison with conditions prior to Israel’s release from exile, Chronicles was written in a day of light and hope. Yet that hope had to be turned into a practical program of service to God. Those who had returned to the promised land faced new challenges. What were they to do to move the kingdom of God forward in their day? So, the author of Chronicles replaces David’s sin and troubles with a spectacular account of his full devotion to uniting the people of God in service to the construction of the temple. David was Israel’s exemplary king, the one who fulfilled the priorities they should have in their own lives. The first audience of Chronicles needed to follow David’s example in their day. If they did, they would see the blessings of God.

These themes appear throughout the tour of David’s kingdom in Chronicles, but they take center stage especially in David’s prayer near the end of his reign. When David saw Israel’s generous support for building the temple, he prayed these words:

In the uprightness of my heart I have freely offered all these things, and now I have seen your people, who are present here, offering freely and joyously to you. O Lord, . . . keep forever such purposes and thoughts in the hearts of your people, and direct their hearts toward you. (1 Chronicles 29:17–18)

In Troubled and Hopeful Times

The two tours of David’s reign in Samuel and Chronicles had much to say to ancient Israel, but they also speak to us as followers of Christ. We know that Jesus is the great and final royal son of David who fulfills all of God’s promises to the house of David in the inauguration, continuation, and consummation of his kingdom.

“We know that Jesus is the great and final royal son of David who fulfills all of God’s promises to the house of David.”

Prior to the return of Christ in glory, the needs and challenges we face vary. There are times when the discipline of God comes upon us in Christ. We feel boxed in by disappointment and hardship; life in this world seems hopeless. In these sorts of circumstances, the tour of David’s life in Samuel has much to say to us. Just as Israel was to put their hopes in the righteous son of David to come, we are to put our hopes in Jesus, the righteous son of David. He is the one who will rescue us. Our faith must be in him alone.

Other times, however, our needs and challenges are much closer to the situation for which the book of Chronicles was written. God mercifully opens doors of service, opportunities to further his kingdom in the power of the Spirit. We are positive and hopeful, ready to reach for the sky. The tour of David’s life in Chronicles is especially good for us in those times. Just as Israel was to learn from David’s life after the exile, the lessons of David’s reign in Chronicles teach us the projects we should pursue and the priorities we should follow as we devote ourselves to the kingdom of God in Christ.

Go back to these two sacred tours of David’s reign on your own. Read through them. You’ll find countless ways they direct us all in service to Christ.

C.S. Lewis describes it as the cheerful hallmark of humility. Tim Keller calls it the doorway into freedom. John Piper names it as the best friend of deep wonder. And we know it as one of earth’s most elusive gifts: self-forgetfulness.

Joy, true joy, does not live in the land of mirrors. Peace of mind is not found in our inner wells, no matter how deep we lower the pail of introspection. No personality test can usher the soul into contentment. Yes, we must know something of ourselves to live well in this world. But the healthiest people hardly consider what psychological categories they belong to, hardly care how they compare to others. They mainly forget about themselves and live.

I write these words less like Joshua in the promised land and more like Moses on Mount Nebo. I can see this Canaan of self-forgetfulness, but I do not yet dwell there. I have tasted the joys of that country like manna from heaven, like honey from the rock, and I long to leave this wilderness and join the saints whose joys are many and whose thoughts of self are few.

God alone can give this gift; he alone can mend a soul curved in on itself. But as we pray for him to lift us upward and outward, we can do something. To use an acronym, we can remember to FORGET.

Fill your mind with Jesus.
Obey more than you analyze.
Repent and confess quickly.
Get lost in something good.
Embrace your God-given callings.
Thank God always and for everything.

If you find yourself too focused on yourself, consider with me these six modest steps toward joyful self-forgetfulness.

1. Fill your mind with Jesus.

If you have ever told yourself to forget yourself, to stop thinking about yourself, you have also discovered the powerlessness of such a command. Self-forgetfulness happens indirectly: we don’t so much forget ourselves as remember something better. To tweak a phrase from Thomas Chalmers, we need the expulsive power of a new attention. And nothing warrants our attention more than Jesus Christ.

The Father commands us to listen to him (Matthew 17:5). The Spirit is given to glorify him (John 16:14). The apostles bid us to behold him (2 Corinthians 3:18; Hebrews 12:2). The angels never cease to worship him (Revelation 5:6–14). His riches are unsearchable; his glories, incomparable; the joys of those who love him, inexpressible (Ephesians 3:8; Hebrews 3:3; 1 Peter 1:8).

How, then, shall we fill our minds with him? In any of a hundred ways. An unsearchable Christ invites creative exploration — and the more we seek, the more we’ll find. Perhaps make Gospel reading a regular habit; consider always keeping a bookmark in these blessed stories. Or find rich, doxological books about the person and work of Jesus. Or get to know the loveliness of Christ through the meditations of Christ-saturated saints. Or become the kind of friend or spouse who frequently turns the conversation toward the Savior. However you do it, seek to make him your morning sun and evening star, your afternoon oasis, the joy of every hour.

“I am sure,” writes Samuel Rutherford, “the saints at their best are but strangers to the weight and worth of the incomparable sweetness of Christ.” And so, with him, make it your happiness “to win new ground daily in Christ’s love” (The Loveliness of Christ, 22, 27), to catch a new sight of him, to enjoy a new glory in him.

2. Obey more than you analyze.

Consider some familiar scenarios for the introspective. You just finished leading a Bible study, and now, on the drive home with your roommate, your mind replays half a dozen comments you made. Or while singing in corporate worship, you keep gauging your own emotions and comparing your demeanor to those around you. Or during dinner with your family, you go over a work project you just turned in, wondering if you should have done it differently.

In moments like these (and many others), self-analysis can feel so right, even so responsible. We don’t want to miss our mistakes and sins; we don’t want to remain strangers to ourselves. At the same time, however, we would do well to consider how self-analysis can lead us into subtle disobedience.

“Peace of mind is not found in our inner wells, no matter how deep we lower the pail of introspection.”

As long as you replay moments from the Bible study, you fail to love the roommate in the car with you. As long as you consider your own heart in worship, you fail to behold the Lord of the song. And as long as you critique and mentally redo the work project, you fail to offer your family your undivided presence. Even in solitude, when self-analysis doesn’t keep us from loving our neighbors, it often still distracts us from other kinds of obedience: doing our work, saying our prayers, getting our sleep, or thinking of the honorable and excellent and lovely (Philippians 4:8).

There is a place for self-analysis — for paying attention to ourselves, watching ourselves, and confessing our sins (Luke 17:3; 21:34; 1 John 1:9). But that place is not the dinner table or our kids’ bedside or our work desks or any other sphere where God has made our duty plain. There, he calls us to “look . . . to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4), speak a grace-filled word (Ephesians 4:29), work heartily as for him (Colossians 3:23).

So, when introspective thoughts intrude upon your mind, don’t assume that God expects you to heed them. Instead, ask, “Are these thoughts distracting me from more important obedience?” If so, tell your inner self, “I should perhaps think about that sometime soon, but right now I have a different job to do.” And then ask God for grace to do it.

3. Repent and confess quickly.

Imagine that you have spilled a bowl of cereal in your living room. But instead of cleaning it up right away, you go about your day with the milky mess on the floor. You keep catching glimpses of it; in the back of your head, you know it’s there. You have a vague sense that it might be damaging the floorboards, but still you carry on.

As ridiculous as this scenario sounds, many of us respond to sin similarly. Sometime in the morning, say, we made a thoughtless comment, or we shirked a plain duty, or we welcomed a twisted thought. We sinned. But instead of cleaning up the mess right away, instead of confessing the sin quickly, we linger. We keep stepping around the sin. And so we walk through a haze of vague guilt, background accusation, stumbling self-consciousness.

“Oh, what peace we often forfeit; oh, what needless pain we bear; all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer!” Do we not have an advocate in heaven (1 John 2:1)? Do we not have a Father whose heart grows warm toward his returning children (Luke 15:20)? Do we not have a gospel big enough for every sin we could bring?

Harboring guilt has no atoning power. Nor does God tell us to confess only after feeling awful through the afternoon. No, everything in him, everything in the gospel, everything in his word bids us to come now, right away. Respond to the first pang of guilt by saying, “I will go to my Father.” You really can sit down, confess your sin outright, receive forgiveness in Christ, and move on.

God promises that he forgets the sins he forgives (Hebrews 8:12). Surely that means we can forget them too. And in forgetting our sins, we might just forget ourselves.

4. Get lost in something good.

When was the last time you were rapt? The word refers to one of the most self-forgetful, and most pleasurable, experiences God gives. Those who are rapt, writes Winifred Gallagher, are “completely absorbed, engrossed, fascinated, perhaps even ‘carried away’ . . . from the scholar’s study to the carpenter’s craft to the lover’s obsession” (The Pleasures of Reading in an Age of Distraction, 86). When we become rapt before some beauty, some hobby, some person, we lose ourselves — even if only for a few moments — and then find ourselves all the better for it.

Scripture gives us many examples of such holy fascination. Often, they come in the context of worship, as when David breathes after his “one thing” (Psalm 27:4) or Moses beholds the back of Glory (Exodus 33:21–23). Other times, however, the saints lose themselves in something God has made — from the four wonders of the wise man (Proverbs 30:18–19) to our Savior’s bird watching (Matthew 6:26) to the raucous song of Psalm 104.

When was the last time you were so engrossed, so blissfully lost? When was the last time you even found yourself in a context where you could be? Too many of us have gone far too long without a walk in the woods, without taking our seat at a true feast, without reading a book far more beautiful than it is “useful.” I know, as a father of three young boys, that life does not always allow much time for hobbies. But can we not embrace, at a minimum, the resolve of Clyde Kilby?

I shall open my eyes and ears. Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are. I shall joyfully allow them the mystery of what Lewis calls their “divine, magical, terrifying and ecstatic” existence.

However busy you may be, find a way — some way — to regularly get lost in something good. We cannot simply manufacture such experiences; they are gifts. But we can place ourselves before the goodness of God in his good world. We can open our eyes. We can walk on some path of pleasure long enough to get lost.

5. Embrace your God-given callings.

For as self-reflective as I can be, I used to spend much more time poring over my soul. Look through my journals from former days, and you would find page upon page of agonizing introspection. But then you would see the entries slowly taper off until page after page of blank. Why? For several reasons, but one of the more significant is simply that I got busy. I found more friends. I took more (and harder) classes. I started working more hours. Empty evenings and solitary days gave way to good, God-given callings — a blessed kind of busyness, a friend of self-forgetfulness.

When dark thoughts lure us inward, when we feel ourselves falling into the vortex of self, what a gift to have a spouse to love, an infant to console, friends to serve, dishes to wash, neighbors to help, churches to build, work projects to accomplish, and other needs to meet. Such callings give a glorious objectivity to our days. As one introspective man, a new father, told me recently, “When my daughter needs me, God doesn’t expect me to be doing anything else.”

“Seek to make Christ your morning sun and evening star, your afternoon oasis, the joy of every hour.”

By all means, avoid the kind of devilish hurry that leaves no room for quiet mornings before God, calm moments through the day, leisurely Sabbath-like rests. But by all means, get a few big callings in life — and then hear in them the voice of God saying, “Husband, love your wife” (Ephesians 5:25), “Mother, train up your toddler” (Proverbs 22:6), “Friend, stir up your brother” (Hebrews 10:24), “Christian, meet the needs of the saints” (Romans 12:13). In short, hear in them the voice of God calling you out of yourself.

6. Thank God always and for everything.

Finally, however self-conscious and inward you feel, resolve to thank God “in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18), “always and for everything” (Ephesians 5:20).

Morbid introspection and Godward gratitude work against each other. The one takes us deep underground; the other lifts our eyes to a big and bright sky. The one curves us inward; the other bends us outward. The one sends us into a hall of mirrors, where we see ourselves and yet so often become deceived about ourselves; the other fills our thoughts with the Father of lights, our good and giving God (James 1:17).

Philippians 4:6–7 traces the way from anxious introspection to a mind and heart at peace:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

We turn from inward anxiety not only by casting our cares on God, but by doing so “with thanksgiving.” For thanksgiving puts us in a place far broader than our burdens, where we see a past filled with God’s faithfulness and a future alive with his promises — the cross behind us and heaven before us. Thanksgiving snaps us back to reality, speaking a gospel louder than our inward thoughts.

Under the old covenant, the Levites “were to stand every morning, thanking and praising the Lord, and likewise at evening” (1 Chronicles 23:30). As children of the new covenant, can we not (at least) match this godly practice? What if we hailed the morning and crowned the evening with gratitude? What if, at least twice a day, we turned around to notice the many gifts God has given, the goodness and mercy chasing us home (Psalm 23:6)? We might find that thanksgiving can become a stairway out of our inward cellar, a remembrance of God that helps us forget ourselves.

So, seek to fill your mind with Jesus. Obey more than you analyze. Repent and confess quickly. Get lost in something good. Embrace your God-given callings. And however stuck you feel inside yourself, thank God always and for everything.

Christ does not call us to scrape by spiritually year after year.

He can handle our down seasons and weak times. Jesus is gentle and merciful when our souls seem to be running on empty. He will not snuff us out when smoldering, or break us when bruised. And he is gracious enough to not leave us stuck forever in the state of “just enough”: believing just enough, hoping just enough, loving just enough to scrape by.

Jesus does not abandon his own when our spiritual tanks are low — and he bids us not to settle for threadbare spirituality or devotional minimalism. He invites us to more, and promises more, and empowers more.

Mature, healthy Christianity is maximalist, not minimalist. Those who are born again long for more of Jesus, not less. They’re not occupied with meeting bare minimums but want to see more, know more, enjoy more of Jesus, and then believe more, hope more, and love more, to his honor.

“Mature, healthy Christianity is maximalist, not minimalist. Those who are born again long for more of Jesus, not less.”

In time, the heart indwelt by the Holy Spirit recovers from its ebbs and cries more, more, more — not less, less, less — to see Jesus more clearly, love Jesus more dearly, follow Jesus more nearly.

So as an old year passes, and the new dawns, we don’t try to grope our way to find minimums of Bible intake, prayer, and covenant fellowship in the local church. We want to make the most of a new year.

We want more of Jesus in 2022.

Christ Honored in Death — or Life

Few passages shine with as much maximalist impulse as Philippians 1:22–26. Paul, in prison of all places, writes with confidence of his coming deliverance. Soon a verdict will come down, and either he will be released from prison or, through death, be released from this life. Paul is not anxious though: to die is “far better” because that is “to depart and be with Christ” (Philippians 1:24).

His first desire, and personal preference, is to be as proximate to Jesus as possible — and so, “to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Yet Paul sees in Christ himself that personal preference doesn’t carry the day — at least not as a rule.

Paul has gladly dedicated his life to the advance of the gospel, not the advance of his own preferences. Nice as it would be, in his reckoning, to “depart and be with Christ” right now, Paul expects God’s work through him on earth isn’t yet complete. The very pattern and example of Christ’s own life did not move immediately toward his own immediate preferences but often laid them aside for the good of others. Paul anticipates that this too will be his call, for now: to “remain in the flesh” and “continue with you all” for their “progress and joy in the faith” (Philippians 1:24–25).

How, then, in his new, post-prison life to come, will Paul seek that Jesus “be honored in my body . . . by life”? What will “to live is Christ” mean for him in this new season? The dawning of a new year may be as good a time as any to rehearse Paul’s own vision of maximalist Christianity in Philippians 1:22–26.

Fruitful Labor

First, Paul highlights fruitful labor: “If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me” (verse 22). This is not a manifestation of pride — as if Paul thinks so highly of himself as to presume effectiveness. Rather, this is a humble recognition of Christ’s call and the Spirit’s power: ongoing life in this age is an invitation to fruitfulness for Christ’s kingdom — perhaps particularly for an apostle, but no less so for the rest of us. As Paul writes to a young pastor and protégé, “Let our people learn to devote themselves to good works, so as to help cases of urgent need, and not be unfruitful” (Titus 3:14). He dreams, and plans, and teaches toward not only fruitful apostles, but a whole church of fruitful laborers.

Fruitful labor isn’t magic, though it is supernatural. Christ calls his people, in the grip of his grace, to give themselves to the good of others, and to learn to do it, including the ups and downs of real-life trial and error. We cannot produce genuine spiritual fruit in our own strength, nor do we presume it will happen through us at the drop of a hat, in our own timing.

But we can learn. This is where genuine labor comes in. It is work. We engage. We invest energy and effort. We take modest and patient steps and over time devote ourselves to various initiatives and acts for the good of others, knowing that Christ means to empower our labor by his Spirit and make them fruitful in his timing.

Others’ Progress and Joy

Paul then spells out further, in verse 25, what this “fruitful labor” will be: “your progress and joy in the faith.”

In our day of self-focus, and shameless self-promotion, how refreshing to see the marked other-ness in Paul’s ambition. Modern ambition — and perhaps American ambition in particular — can subtly seep into our souls and color our seemingly Christian ambitions. But Paul’s perspective is that he remains in this life, as long as he remains, for the sake of others.

He resolves to honor Christ through his ongoing life by giving himself to the progress and joy of others’ faith. Paul’s life, as long as he lives, is dedicated to the glory of Christ through advancing others’ joy in Christ. Paul is not scraping by. He is not groping for spiritual minimums. He is not focusing his planning on a single act or word or two. He means to abound in doing good (2 Corinthian 9:8). He hopes for his life to overflow in countless acts and words for the good of others. His impulse is not only maximalist but others-oriented.

Ample Cause to Glory

Finally, we find one further degree of specificity in verse 26. The apostle will remain, for now, in this life, for the advance and joy of others’ faith, “so that in me you may have ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus, because of my coming to you again.”

When released, Paul means to make another visit to Philippi, and his intentions are plainly maximalist. He means not only to give them a cause, or some cause, to glory in Christ. Rather, his plan, God helping him, is to live in such a way among the Philippians that they will have “ample cause to glory in Christ” when Paul comes to town. Ample cause. Literally, “so that your boast may abound in Christ Jesus because of me.” Not threadbare boasting in Christ, but boasting that abounds. And not minimal effort and energy on his part to provoke it, but maximal.

“If we content ourselves with just scraping by spiritually, we deprive not only ourselves of joy but also others.”

Which might inspire us to have such hopes and dreams, and pray such prayers, for a new year. If we content ourselves with just scraping by spiritually, with angling to just get by, do just enough, we deprive not only ourselves of joy but also others. Not only is our own boasting in Christ diminished, but also others boasting in him. Observe, then, the contagious power of joy in Christ. When our gaze attends to Jesus, and we devote our remaining lives to his honor, we give others not only cause to rejoice in Christ, but ample cause — boasting in Christ that abounds — to the honor and praise of our Lord.

Catalyzing Joy

Living to the glory of Christ is not just for Jesus and me, but also includes others — not just that they would see our lives and give God glory, but also that our lives would become part of catalyzing joy in Christ in them, such that they too would live to Christ’s glory and so multiply our life being poured out for Christ.

So 2022 provides a fresh opportunity to make such Pauline resolutions. Rather than the often self-focused mood of new-year resolves, what if we kept in mind how the joy of others is critical, for the fullness of our own joy, and for the maximizing of Jesus’s honor through us?

Our Lord has more grace to give — to empower us to thrive and not merely survive. And he is worthy of our earnest, humble resolves. Such maximalist Christianity could only be unattractive if we have a minimalist view of the value of Christ.