Luther Discovers the Book
When Martin Luther discovered the gospel in the Scriptures, everything changed for him and the future of the church. In this episode of Light + Truth, John Piper begins a 3-part series exploring Luther’s relationship with the Bible.

“We live in a divided age” is so self-evidently true that it’s frankly boring to write. Theories abound on how we got here; what’s undisputed is that we’re here. It sure can feel as if the temperature of virtually every conversation and debate, however trivial, is set to blazing hot.

And worst of all, the previous paragraph doesn’t just describe the world — it describes many churches. Rather than shining as a contrast to the perpetual outrage machine, many of us are too busy being conformed to the pattern of this age (Romans 12:2).

How, then, can believers forge meaningful unity in a fractured time? It is looking unlikely that we’re going to tweet our way out of the problem. So what’s the path forward?

Whiplash World

As author Yuval Levin has observed in A Time to Build, the function of institutions in modern life has largely shifted from formative to performative — from habitats for growth to platforms for self-expression. Enter a secular university, for example, and you may well emerge more coddled than shaped. But this performative dynamic isn’t confined to colleges; it also infects local churches.

Long past are the days when American churchgoers looked to their pastors first (or perhaps even second or third) for help navigating a fraught cultural landscape. Nowadays it’s pundits — whether on cable news or talk radio or social media — whose voices are most formative. On one level, this is understandable. Pastors are not omnicompetent. They aren’t experts on everything, or even most things. Thus when it comes to current events, Christians should (in one sense) expect less from their pastors.

Nevertheless, the larger trend is troubling. When church becomes just another arena in which to perform — whether via a “leadership position” or simply by keeping up appearances — rather than a family in which to be shaped, it has ceased to occupy the gravitational center of one’s life. No wonder priorities spin out of orbit. No wonder people demand that their pastors affirm, and publicly echo, their settled opinions on debatable matters. I’ve heard countless stories of someone leaving their church because of their politics. What I have yet to hear is someone leaving their politics because of their church.

One reason churches are losing the battle to form hearts is because the Christians who visit and join and show up for worship Sunday after Sunday are battered by the storms of digital discourse. They’re limping along, exhausted and distracted and confused.

No Longer Tossed

This is precisely why congregational unity is so essential. Unity is not a squishy sentiment or optional add-on to the Christian life; it is something for which Jesus prayed and bled and died (John 17:22). Just consider the apostle Paul’s logic in Ephesians 4. The ascended King Jesus gave the gift of pastors to equip church members for ministry (verses 8–12). As such ministry builds up the body (verse 13), the ensuing unity tears down whatever threatens it (verse 14). In other words, ministry generates unity, and unity generates stability. Thus, unity’s purpose is plain: “so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes” (verse 14).

Living in a turbulent time? Labor for unity. It will have a stabilizing effect.

But how, practically, do we do this in the local church? How do we keep each other from being pummeled by the raging rapids of modern media? Here are two suggestions.

1. Dust Off Your Documents

A good statement of faith, used properly, is a goldmine for church unity. Same with a members’ covenant. These documents shouldn’t gather dust in a file drawer or be confined to a website. They should be used, for they are pregnant with unity-forging potential. Why? They provide a common core, enabling churches to keep the main things central and helping to regulate the temperature of our debates. The million-dollar question then becomes whether our statement of faith speaks to a given topic. Yes, clearly? Then we also will. Yes, sort of? Then we might. No, not at all? Then we likely won’t.

In my estimation, a good statement of faith is neither so exhaustive that an undiscipled Christian couldn’t join the church, nor so mere that there’s little the church is actually standing for. But we refuse to divide over things we never agreed to agree on.

As a church planter, I’ve had to think about developing documents that will establish biblical guardrails — while recognizing that not all doctrines are equally important or clear. In a recent membership class, someone asked why we don’t stake out a clearer position on the end times. It’s a good question. I briefly explained the idea of theological triage — there are first-rank doctrines we must agree on to be Christians, second-rank doctrines we must agree on to be members of the same church, and third-rank doctrines we can actually disagree on and still be members of the same church.

Even if various gospel-proclaiming churches classify second- and third-rank doctrines a bit differently, the classification system itself is a useful tool. By codifying only certain doctrines (statement of faith) and promises (covenant), a church crystallizes what members must agree on — and where there’s room to disagree. This engenders confidence in the essentials and freedom in everything else. This is not to say that a pastor should avoid debatable matters in his preaching — as he unfolds the “whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27), many such matters will arise. It’s simply to say that a church cannot bind members’ consciences on issues where (the church has agreed, as reflected in its documents) God has not clearly spoken.

“It’s counterintuitive but true: one way to preserve sound doctrine is to leave ample room for Christian freedom.”

It’s counterintuitive but true: one way to preserve sound doctrine is to leave ample room for Christian freedom. Otherwise, churches can easily succumb to legalism by requiring agreement on third-rank issues. But by lowering the fences on debatable matters, we raise the fences on non-debatable ones. Or to change the metaphor, by lowering our collective voice on issues where Scripture is not clear — say, a specific political-policy proposal — we can raise our voice on issues where it is. This is why liberty of conscience is so critical in an age of outrage. As Mark Dever has observed, leaving space for disagreement (on many matters other than gospel clarity) is, in part, what keeps the gospel clear. When we lack a clear understanding of Christian liberty and space for conscience, we will be tempted to stick more into the gospel than is there — that is, agreement on a wider variety of issues.

Don’t underestimate the practical value of church documents. They are your friends; weave them into the life of your church. Corporately confess portions of your statement of faith on Sundays. Rehearse the covenant’s promises when you convene a members’ meeting or celebrate the Lord’s Supper. Quote the documents in sermon applications. In so doing, you will forge unity around what has been agreed on — and avoid division around what hasn’t.

2. Get a Table

Another way to foster church unity, not to mention sanity, is to trade the Twitter timeline for a table. I mean this literally. How many hours per week do you typically spend scrolling through social media? (Statistically, it’s probably more than you think.) By comparison, how many do you spend conversing with fellow church members over meals? (Statistically, it may be less than you think.) If the first number dwarfs the second, consider that a check-engine light for your soul. Proximity may not always breed unity, but distance certainly won’t. It’s just harder to resent someone when you’re asking them to pass the salt.

“Christian, you are spiritually responsible for the members of your church, not for strangers on the Internet.”

Christian, you are spiritually responsible for the members of your church, not for strangers on the Internet. Yet who is getting your best energy these days — the members or the strangers? Likewise, if you are a pastor, remember that on the last day you will give account to God not for your followers, but for your flock (Hebrews 13:17). Who is claiming your best energy these days — the followers or the flock?

To borrow language from later in Ephesians 4, we are called to “put off” anything that decreases our joy in God, and in his children, and to “put on” whatever increases it (verses 22–24; see also 1 Thessalonians 2:19–20). If something is generating suspicion or coldness toward fellow believers — especially fellow members — then put it off. Maybe that means shut it off. Pray your heart would be more animated by the faces in your membership directory than by the faces in your newsfeed.

No Replacement

Technology and parachurch ministries are gifts, but they are no replacement for the local church. Anchor your identity there, friend, for only in the communion of the saints will you find ballast amid the storms. In a world of endless options, the church makes our commitments clear. In a world of enormous complexity, the church makes our duties simple. In a world of escalating division, the church makes our unity sweet.

These are my people, and I am theirs.

As I walked briskly through downtown on a cold January morning, I asked my friend, a family lawyer, a typical small-talk question: “How are things at work?”

“It’s our busiest time of year,” he responded, “so I’m currently getting crushed.”

“Really?” I said. “That surprises me.”

“The week kids return to school following the holiday break, our office gets hammered with divorce inquiries,” he said glumly.

Initially, I was shocked. Yet as I thought more, I realized his experience as a family lawyer matched my own as a counselor and pastor. My email inbox, text messages, and voicemail go crazy in the days and weeks following the new year. Before you know it, if someone wants a counseling appointment, they are being booked into the spring.

Five Shades of January Blue

Why do so many people feel crushed after the holidays? Why are so many people hurt, sad, angry, and confused coming off a season usually marked by joy, peace, and anticipation? In my counseling, pastoring, and experience with my own heart, I’ve encountered at least five reasons January can hit us so hard.

Exhausted

First, some are simply exhausted coming out of the holiday season. We planned and attended parties. We acquired gifts. We made mad dashes to stores because someone was left off the list, or one kid had too few items. The church calendar teemed with a plethora of worship services and events from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve, half of which required some sort of extra practice or manpower. The pace of these responsibilities and opportunities, especially in contrast to the rest of the year, can seem breakneck, leading to an exhausted, strung-out feeling when the second week of January hits.

Hopeless

Second, the holidays themselves can become the foundation of our hope rather than just an expression of our joy. We can end up hoping in the sights and sounds, the people and presents, instead of simply enjoying these gifts. Anticipation of favorite flavors, favorite carols, favorite people, and what we hope will be our favorite new possession can propel us through this busy season. But when the food is eaten and the last carol has been sung, when people return to their normal lives and the presents turn out to be just more stuff to fill our homes, our spirits can crash as our hope seems to evaporate.

Dark

Third, do not discount the power of darkness. I’m not speaking metaphorically about Satan and his minions; I mean actual darkness. In the Northern Hemisphere, the short days and long nights can dramatically influence our mood and energy level. This change is just beginning to happen when the holidays arrive, but as we emerge from the holiday season, the nights are long and cold, the days are often dreary, and the world around us seems bare and lifeless as winter has had its effect. All of nature seems to reflect something of our internal assessment that life is a sad, dismal affair.

Lonely

Fourth, while the parties, worship services, and service opportunities may be demanding, they do get us around others consistently. Conversely, once the holidays are over and life returns to normal, many of us find ourselves living our modern lives of relative isolation. No more groups of people laughing and merrymaking — instead, one day bleeds into the next while we retreat to our secluded abodes, and the voices of friends and family are replaced by the digitized voices of our favorite on-screen characters.

Disappointed

Last, while the holidays can be a time of exuberant joy and excitement, for many they turn into another season of disappointment. Family interactions are difficult and painful. Husbands and wives who hope the holidays will provide respite from seasons of bitterness and disdain discover new occasions for those feelings to grow stronger. The hustle of busyness can hide a desperate loneliness. Movies, songs, and made-for-television specials trumpet how happy this season was meant to be, and you feel anything but.

Restoring Our Souls

If the holidays can leave us feeling exhausted, hopeless, dark, lonely, and disappointed, what are we to do? Praise the Lord, he does not leave us alone to muster ourselves through the January blues. Through his word, he gives us guidance for how to restore our souls.

Rest

If exhaustion is one of the primary culprits of the post-holiday crash, then one of its antidotes is genuine rest. By genuine, I do not mean simply ceasing activities, as that often accelerates the decline. Rather, I mean intentionally engaging in those activities that restore the soul, bring peace, and reinforce the safety we have under the restful yoke of Christ (Matthew 11:28–30). Putting ourselves at the feet of Christ intentionally — through worship, prayer, scriptural meditation, fellowship, singing, and even serving — strengthens and enlivens our souls.

“If exhaustion is one of the primary culprits of the post-holiday crash, then one of its antidotes is genuine rest.”

At the same time, rest is not merely a spiritual reality, but a physical one. When the fleeing, exhausted Elijah was so tired he wished his life away, God granted him the physical gifts of sleep and food (1 Kings 19:4–8). The holidays bring with them many added tasks, late nights, and imbalanced meals. If you are feeling exhausted from this season, allow your body as well as your soul a season of recovery.

Refocus

The holidays are a season of joy, and rightly so. But when a passing joy becomes the foundation of our hope, we set ourselves up for disappointment, hurt, and hopelessness. If you fail to find hope in the wake of the holidays, it may be time to readjust your heart’s focus beyond the holidays themselves.

The shining star over Bethlehem points us to the empty tomb in Jerusalem: what began in a wooden manger finds fulfillment on a wooden cross. Only when our hearts are swept up by the hope of our risen and ascended Savior will the holiday season not be the end of our joy but merely its beginning.

Recover Light

As the season’s darkness lingers, and our bodies and souls seem to languish, many of us need to be more intentional about finding light. As with rest, this truth is both spiritual and physical. Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) — and the more common subsyndromal seasonal affective disorder (SSAD) — may seem silly to some, but many who live in regions where sunlight is sparse know its effects. Recovering light physically may include getting outside while the sun is out, using daylight lamps, and even taking vitamins.

Spiritually, recovering light means bathing our souls in the glittering beauty of the gospel. Isaiah pleads with his hearers, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:5) — and Jesus, twice in the Gospel of John, affirms, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12; 9:5). Someday, when he returns to be with his people, we will live in a city that knows no darkness: “The city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23). That lamp will abolish SAD and all dark-driven sadness. Until that day, our souls need the Son as much as our bodies need the sun. Do not let the darkness of the season rob you of the light to be found in worship.

Reconnect

If you find yourself down because the season’s gatherings have ceased, and life has returned to its lonely norm, strive to reconnect in meaningful ways. While holiday get-togethers are fun, they have limited ability to provide the sort of “one-another” support Scripture is so interested in creating (see, for example, Romans 12:10; Galatians 6:2; 1 Thessalonians 5:11).

“Genuine Christian community is the reality to which all other get-togethers can only point.”

God made us to belong to a group of believers with whom we can be candid in the joys and sorrows, in the crushing stress and sheer boredom of life. Locating these communities may be difficult. Connecting with them may be awkward. And meeting with them may be inconvenient. Nonetheless, genuine Christian community is the reality to which all other get-togethers can only point.

Reshape

Many of us struggle to keep our expectations in check when we are inundated with the message that the holidays should be the greatest season of joy and satisfaction. No reality, on this side of glory, can measure up to such a fairy tale. While the season may bring some special joys, for the most part, our lives and the people in them will continue to be what they were before the holidays. Contentious relationships will likely continue to be so, and lives that cannot be satisfied by the things of this earth will return to their normal level of discontentment.

But we are not consigned to frustration, hurt, or even boredom. Paul writes in his letter to the Philippians,

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. (Philippians 4:11–12)

How does Paul accomplish such personal resilience? By nurturing his relationship with Jesus Christ and setting his expectations on a life that reflects the character of Christ, even in hunger and need (Philippians 4:13). The key to not getting crushed in a disappointing holiday season is to reshape our hearts to find ultimate satisfaction not in the trifles of this world, fickle and frail as they are, but in the glories of the next. For there, and there alone, will our expectations not only be met, but abundantly exceeded.