The cost of discipleship can be great, but Jesus told us that ahead of time. “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). Jesus’s words are about allegiance. He doesn’t actually want you to hate your family. Those words in Luke 14:26 are hyperbolic to make a larger point about allegiance. True disciples of Jesus are devoted, above all, to Jesus.

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There are different reasons why people turn from truth to error. One such reason is found in Deuteronomy 13. In the context of that chapter, Moses is warning the Israelites about the kinds of people who will seek to steer them away from true worship and into error and idolatry.
Deuteronomy 13:1–5 is about a false “prophet” or “dreamer” who leads people astray. Deuteronomy 13:12–18 is about a whole town plunging into idolatry. The middle section of the chapter, and the one I’m interested in for our purposes, is Deuteronomy 13:6–11. Take a look at that text.
6 “If your brother, the son of your mother, or your son or your daughter or the wife you embrace or your friend who is as your own soul entices you secretly, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ which neither you nor your fathers have known, 7 some of the gods of the peoples who are around you, whether near you or far off from you, from the one end of the earth to the other, 8 you shall not yield to him or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him, nor shall you conceal him. 9 But you shall kill him. Your hand shall be first against him to put him to death, and afterward the hand of all the people. 10 You shall stone him to death with stones, because he sought to draw you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. 11 And all Israel shall hear and fear and never again do any such wickedness as this among you.”
Strong words, I know. Though we’re not under the Sinai Covenant, and though the civil penalties (in this case, stoning) don’t overlap with the New Covenant community, there is a lesson about faithfulness that we need to discern.
In Deuteronomy 13:6–11, the danger of turning to error is due to a snare that feels close to home—and may even be in the home.
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While our study of history outside of the Bible is merely human, the reality of history is controlled by the God of the Bible and is therefore wise and meaningful. Every strand of history has been woven into the larger fabric of reality according to the almighty will of the Lord.5 God causes all things to work together to bring His elect to the glory of Christ (Rom. 8:28–30). God works through means and coordinates all events to bring history to its decreed goals. 

Men and women are historical beings, immersed in the flow of time. History, as the first-century BC Roman orator Cicero rightly observed, is “the director of life.”1 One cannot escape the effects of history. Even to think nonhistorically for any length of time is a difficult task. We are part of history; indeed, we are part of one human family that extends throughout history. The Bible tells us that God “hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation” (Acts 17:26). Each human being is part of something much larger, for the entire human race descended from one man and one woman and expanded across the world through the ages. God is executing His sovereign plan for our lives not as isolated atoms of humanity, but as descendants of our ancestors, parents of future generations, and members of present-day communities and nations.
Our participation in history is especially meaningful if we are vital members of the church of Jesus Christ. Then we are bound together by faith in Christ, the head over all things, for whom all things exist (Eph. 1:10, 22– 23; Col. 1:16). Also, we are bound together in “one Spirit” with all Christians (Eph. 4:4) and are “members one of another” (Rom. 12:5) in a manner that transcends time. We are no longer strangers and aliens, but members of the ancient people of God’s promise, united in the peace purchased by Christ’s blood (Eph. 2:12–13, 19). When we read about believers and churches from times past, we are reading our family history— the stories of our brothers and sisters.
For the Christian community, history is the stage on which the drama of redemption is displayed. At the beginning is the fall; at the end is the last judgment. In between, the most crucial event is the entry of the eternal God into time as a man, Jesus Christ, the Word incarnate. From the perspective of the New Testament, the incarnation is the culmination of the history of salvation sketched in the Old Testament (Gal. 4:4; Heb. 1:1–2). The incarnation has hallowed history and initiated a history of salvation that embraces not only Israel but the entire world (Matt. 28:18–20; Mark 16:15– 16).
From the Christian perspective, God is undoubtedly active in history, working all things according to the counsel of His will (Eph. 1:11). Tom Wells says, “When we study history we are studying the activity of God.”2 And it is right and proper to study history for that reason alone. God does not want His works to be forgotten, but “hath made his wonderful works to be remembered” (Ps. 111:4).
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Written by Carl R. Trueman |
Friday, September 10, 2021
Being overwhelmed by a vision of a great God at the center of all things is ultimately the only antidote to confusing the needs of ourselves as creatures with the meaning of life. While the pathologies of our culture—from materialism to sexual confusion—each have their own distinctives, the solution is ultimately the same: a vision of God that makes every problem, challenge, or question seem like a passing momentary affliction compared to the eternal weight of glory that is to come.

There can be little doubt that we live in an age where the individual is sovereign. Whether it is commercials selling products on the basis of how they will make us feel or parents suing schools for refusing to allow their children to attend class dressed in any way they choose, ours is a world where individual rights and demands carry a peculiar weight. And the result is that our institutions, particularly our voluntary institutions, are more like boutiques competing for customers in the marketplace of self-fulfillment. Colleges sell themselves on the basis of allowing students to find themselves and reach their potential. And churches promote their programs as sources of personal happiness and well-being. Religious and irreligious, we are all expressive individuals now, seeing the purpose of life as feeling good and anything that hinders that as being evil.
The question of how to counter this and to recapture the New Testament’s vision of the Church as a body of believers who find their identity not in themselves but in love of God and of each other is a pressing but difficult one, made more so by the fact that our problem is in part the result of something we all consider good. Freedom of religion is a wonderful thing. Who wants to live under a regime where simply gathering together in the Lord’s name might merit prosecution, incarceration, or even death? It is good to worship without fear of reprisals.
Yet, when there is religious freedom, there is religious choice; and where there is religious choice, congregants are always in danger of tilting towards being customers, and churches towards being spiritual boutiques, presenting themselves as the answer to particular needs or desires. Add to that mix a normative notion of selfhood that places the individual and his or her needs—”felt” needs, to use the modern phrase—at the center of life, and the stage is set for precisely the kind of religion we have today.
A Vision of God in His Glory
If the problems of consumerist Christianity are so deeply entwined with the pathologies of the wider culture, from its cult of the independent self to its imperious belief that personal happiness is the great criterion of truth, then it is easy to despair. How, as Christians, do we break from this seductive cage in which we find ourselves and in which too often we enjoy being confined? And how do we persuade the rising generation that Christianity is not simply one possible option available for finding happiness and satisfaction in this life but rather is the very meaning of life itself?
I would like to suggest that one vital part of the answer is to be found in that most difficult and yet glorious of Christian teachings, the doctrine of God, particularly the doctrine of God as he is in himself. If patriotism leads individuals to see themselves (and if necessary, sacrifice themselves) in light of a larger, greater reality, that of the nation, so Christians stand or fall by whether they see the God they worship as truly greater than themselves. A God who is simply man writ large is no more worthy of devotion, and no more captivating to the imagination, than a sports hero or a movie star. Only as our imaginations are taken captive by a vision of God in his glory will we see any change in the wider malaise of modernity which afflicts our religious institutions.
I have some personal grounds for believing this can be done. Each year I teach an undergraduate course on the doctrine of God, and each year I am delightfully surprised by the effect it has on many students.
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