Matthew, Mark and Luke see things together (which is why they are often called The Synoptics), John seems to write from ‘Heaven down’ beginning with Christ’s deity and choosing an almost completely different selection of stories to prove his point. Add all four Gospel accounts together and we have a fully-rounded view of the Saviour, his ministry and his message.

Three minutes to go and it was 2-2. As the forward went past the defender, down he went! A moment’s silence then the referee blew his whistle and pointed to the spot. The home side had a penalty to win the game with just seconds remaining! Stood on the terrace behind the goal I was convinced it wasn’t a penalty and went home sure that the three points were undeserved.
Two days later I came across internet footage from the same moment. This time the camera angle was different, taken from the television tower on the side. Now I saw it from a completely different view and the contact was clear. It was a definite penalty! Seeing the incident from a different viewpoint meant spotting things I’d missed first time around.
In one sense it’s a little like that with reading the four Gospels; the written, historical records of the life and ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ upon earth. Almost uniquely in terms of the Scriptures we have four accounts which cover much of the same material. That gives us possibilities but also challenges if we are to read them to maximum benefit.
Reading Them Together
What difference does having four accounts make? The four Gospels have many things in common as well as different features that distinguish them. They are all written collections of accounts of the life, ministry, teaching, death and resurrection of the Saviour. All four spend a disproportionately large section (between a quarter and a half) on the events following Palm Sunday, the last week of the life of Jesus. That means they are not biographies as such. They all point us to the centrality of Calvary and of the empty tomb. We do well to read every verse of the Gospels with that in view.
All four are written to point us to who Jesus is – not just an ordinary man, not even just a great prophet or leader like those we have already seen throughout the Old Testament. The titles that are given to him by the Gospel writer himself, from the lips of those whose stories each Gospel records, or even within Jesus’s words themselves, are building up a picture for us so that we might see who he is and believe in him ourselves. It is here that we will see how different writers bring different themes to prominence.
In the first few verses of Luke’s Gospel and the last few of John’s we are assured not only of the reliability of the records in front of us, but also of the purpose for which they were written.
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Written by Edward T. Welch |
Monday, March 20, 2023
Genuine fear of the Lord is reserved for those who know Jesus. This fear of the Lord means reverent submission that leads to obedience, and it is interchangeable with worship of God, reliance on him, trust in him, and hope in him. You will find it when you can come to the Lord and are a humble listener to his words. This fear includes a knowledge of our sinfulness and God’s moral purity, and it includes a clear- eyed knowledge of God’s justice and his anger against sin. But it places its confidence in God’s great forgiveness, mercy, and love.

All experiences of the fear of man share at least one common feature: people are big. They have grown to idolatrous proportions in our lives. They control us. Since there is no room in our hearts to worship both God and people, whenever people are big, God is not. Therefore, the first task in escaping the snare of the fear of man is to know that God is awesome and glorious, not other people.
This clicked for me one Sunday while I was sitting in church. It was family month. Each Sunday for the month of February, a different family would speak to the church about their family devotions. All the families were very edifying and, of course, horribly convicting, but the one father gave me a revelation. When asked what he did for family devotions, he said, “Talk about God.”
That was it. That was my revelation.
Let me explain. As a counselor, I live in a “how to” world. A depressed person talks with me because he or she wants to know how to get rid of depression. Couples don’t feel any romance in their relationship; they want to know how to have that spark again. Sometimes, I confess, I speak more about the “how to” than about God.
I have two children who used to bring home great Sunday school materials. Typically, I read these papers on Sunday afternoon. They were always very helpful, full of biblical principles and their application. Lots of good “how-tos.” There were edifying stories of children who felt rejected by their friends and learned how Jesus could help them to love those who were mean. I remember one on cheating that was especially good. But they rarely talked about God.
Don’t get me wrong. I think the application of Scripture to the details of our lives is so important. My observation, however, is that these principles are not always embedded in our primary mission and treasure of knowing God. “He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is the key to this treasure” (Isa. 33:6 NIV). When this treasure is not in view, the result is that our goal can be self- improvement rather than the glory of the Holy God.
What Is the Fear of the Lord?
Please don’t think only of terror when you think of the fear of the Lord. The fear of the Lord, like the fear of people, includes a spectrum of attitudes. On one side, the fear of the Lord does indeed mean a terror of God. We are unclean people, and we appear before the Almighty God who is morally pure. We are rightly ashamed before him, and punishment would be completely just.
Terror is our natural response to God. Such fear shrinks back from him. It wants to avoid him as much as possible. Not that we are always aware of these stirrings in our hearts. A fear of the Lord that loses sight of Jesus might appear as “free-floating anxiety,” low self-esteem, and a host of other modern maladies that we do not attribute to our ever-present connection to God, though it is indeed a consequence of living before him. This fear is afraid of God, but it is not the fear of the Lord.

Genuine fear of the Lord is reserved for those who know Jesus. This fear of the Lord means reverent submission that leads to obedience, and it is interchangeable with worship of God, reliance on him, trust in him, and hope in him. You will find it when you can come to the Lord and are a humble listener to his words. This fear includes a knowledge of our sinfulness and God’s moral purity, and it includes a clear- eyed knowledge of God’s justice and his anger against sin. But it places its confidence in God’s great forgiveness, mercy, and love. It knows that because of God’s eternal plan, Jesus humbled himself by dying on a cross to redeem his enemies from slavery and death. It knows that God always says “I love you” first. This knowledge draws us closer to God rather than causing us to flee. In this fear, we walk humbly with him and delight in obedience. It is the pinnacle of our response to God.
Knowing the difference between these two fears clarifies why Scripture can say “there is no fear in love” (1 John 4:18) while simultaneously demanding the fear of the Lord. The Bible teaches that God’s people are no longer driven by terror—fear that has to do with punishment. Instead, we are blessed with reverential awe motivated by the love and the honor that is due him. The biblical context always clarifies which kind of fear it is referring to.
Why does the Bible use the same word for both responses? Because both fears have something very important in common. They are both responses to the fact that the Holy One of Israel reigns over all the earth. This is the message of the Bible, and it is the essence of the fear of the Lord.
To appreciate the magnitude of this message, you should understand the biblical meaning of the word holy. Holy can be defined as “separate,” “set apart,” “distinct,” or “uncontaminated.” In reference to God, holy means that he is different from us. None of his attributes can be understood by comparison to his creatures. His love and justice are above us; they are holy. His power is that of the Almighty; it can be compared to no one else’s. His moral character is peerless; he alone is righteous.
Holiness is not one of many attributes of God. It is his essential nature and is seen in all his qualities. His wisdom is a holy wisdom. His beauty is a holy beauty. His majesty is a holy majesty. His holiness “adds glory, luster and harmony to all his other perfections.”1
Some have called this “otherness,” this holiness, of God his transcendence. God is exalted above his people. He lives in a high and lofty place (Isa. 57:15). His judgment and mercy are above us; they are ultimately incomprehensible. As a result, we don’t use a reigning king or queen as our template for God. To say that the Holy God reigns makes it impossible for us to use earthly kings as the model. The Holy God is unique—he is greater and of a different kind than earthly kings. The Holy God is the original; the most glorious of earthly kings are only a dim reflection. Our God is great.
To make the holiness of God even more awesome, the transcendent God has come close to us. He is great, and he is love. It would be one thing to know that God was gloriously transcendent and entirely separate from his creation. In such a situation, we could become accustomed to his lack of intervention in human affairs, and for practical purposes we could become our own gods.
But our God is also the Immanent One who has revealed himself and become like us. He said, “I will walk among you and will be your God, and you shall be my people” (Lev. 26:12). He is near us. He will never leave us or forsake us (Heb. 13:5). He is so close that he calls us “friends” (John 15:14). He is so close that Scripture talks about “Christ in you” (Col. 1:27). Given his nature, this is virtually impossible for us to grasp. But, by God’s grace, we can grow in knowing his holiness, and this knowledge will both expel the people-idols from our lives and leave us less prone to being consumed with ourselves.
Excerpt taken from Chapter 5: “Know the Fear of the Lord”, When People Are Big and God Is Small: Overcoming Peer Pressure, Codependency, and the Fear of Man by Edward T. Welch. Used with permission.

John M’Clintock and James Strong, “Holiness,” Cyclopedia of Biblical, Theological and Ecclesiastical Literature (New York: Harper, 1872), 4:298.

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Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.Matthew 5:4
Common sense would seem to dictate that mourning is antithetical to blessedness, that lament and sorrow are at odds with happiness and flourishing. However, if we are going to judge reality according to Jesus’ words and not our own, we must apparently conclude otherwise. The wisdom of God is not the wisdom of man.
To “mourn” means to lament or grieve, especially at sin, loss, or death. The disciples “mourned and wept” at Jesus’ death prior to the resurrection (Mk. 16:10), and Paul was afraid that he would have to mourn over those who had “sinned in the past and not repented” when he came to visit the Corinthians a second time (2 Cor. 12:21). James uses the word in the context of grief over sin: “Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom” (Js. 4:9).
Thus to mourn in the New Testament is to feel grief and sorrow, and especially so toward the grim realities of sin and death. It is to feel the awful weight of the curse bearing down on you and to be burdened with a resultant sense of sadness and anguish. In short, to mourn is to see reality as it is; to look this fallen world full in the face, unhindered by naïve illusions, and to feel the only sensible response: sadness, grief, and loss.
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