The plot was, in most respects, suicidal.

Jonathan, impatient with his father’s halting, snuck off to the Philistines’ camp, his trusted armor-bearer beside him. Near the border, Jonathan turned to his servant and defied common sense: “Come, let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised. It may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few” (1 Samuel 14:6). While Saul sat back counting his soldiers, Jonathan counted to two and drew his sword.

I imagine myself as Jonathan’s servant:

What do you mean “go over”? Fight an entire army with just the two of us? And what do you mean “it may be that the Lord will work for us”? Shouldn’t we check first?

What his armor-bearer actually said was this: “Do all that is in your heart. Do as you wish. Behold, I am with you heart and soul” (1 Samuel 14:7). Here is a brother born for the day of adversity (Proverbs 17:17), a soldier ready when the war horn sounds, the kind of man you want beside you when everything is on the line.

This nameless servant of Jonathan would fight whomever Jonathan fought. They would claim victory together, or die together — whichever their Lord willed. He not only carried his master’s armor; he stood ready to strap it on himself.

And he did. The Philistines called them up to fight (confirming, in their minds, that God went with them, 1 Samuel 14:10), so Jonathan charged up first, his armor-bearer behind. After they killed twenty men, the Lord sent the thousands within the Philistine camp into confusion. Israel’s army, observing the commotion, drew near to see the Philistines striking each other down (1 Samuel 14:20). They then routed the bewildered army. “So the Lord saved Israel that day” (1 Samuel 14:23).

Men of Our Own Soul

Where are Jonathan and his armor-bearer today?

“Where are the men who have resolved, God helping them, to take a hill for Christ?”

Where are the men who have resolved, God helping them, to take a hill for Christ? Men who see the devil’s flag waving over their neighborhood and dare some glorious mission? Men who hear the taunts of that Philistine Planned Parenthood and pray, fast, and strategize to save lives? Men who, when confronted with the evil forces at work in their area, say, “Come, let go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised — it may be that the Lord will work for us”?

Where are the men who take seriously Jesus’s claim that “all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18)? Men who do not pretend that their Captain is halting like Saul, but hear his call to manfully venture outside the camp (Hebrews 13:13)? Men who know they never step anywhere under the sun that is outside of their King’s jurisdiction? Men who, when they speak with politicians, implore sinners, or expose scoffers, secure good works in the name of Jesus, do so unashamed because their Master rules all?

And where are the men on mission together? The Jonathans to lead the way, and the faithful and formidable armor-bearers to charge behind? Where stand the men outmanned and outmaneuvered, yet pointing and saying, “We know nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few”? Where are the hills flapping with the gospel’s banner? Where is that sacred flame that unites two or more soldiers on active duty, standing firm in the armor of God?

I first ask myself these questions. My city and neighborhood do not lack needs, just bands of brothers to meet them.

Man and His Household

Is even our ideal Christian man today isolated from other men? His world orbits around his personal devotions and how he leads his own family toward Christ. Healthy fatherhood and healthy husbanding within healthy homes can appear to suffice.

But this faith scarcely resembles our forefathers who “conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight” (Hebrews 11:33–34). “Let the Philistine flag fly in our city,” we seem to say. “Each man for his family and himself.”

And even when we do gather together, do we move beyond the talk of war? Surely, how good and pleasant is it when brothers dwell in unity, and meet to update about last week’s battles and pray for battles to come. But how often do we meet and talk of soldiering only to disband and fight alone? Why not take a hill together? Jonathan did not send his armor-bearer into the camp alone with plans to meet next week for an update.

And there may also be a lesson for us in the sin of King David — the man Jonathan would love as his own soul (1 Samuel 18:1). His mighty fall with Bathsheba occurred at home: “In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle” (2 Samuel 11:1). David was slain by temptation at home (a fate we have shared) when he stayed back from mission with his men.

Lineage of Conquerors

How many of us today know the blessing George Whitefield once described?

It [is] an invaluable privilege to have a company of fellow soldiers continually about us, animating and exhorting each other to stand our ground, to keep our ranks, and manfully to follow the Captain of our Salvation, though it be through a sea of blood.

Men need something to live for, to fight for, to die for. Our faith lineage, we men in the West must not forget, includes not only those who conquered kingdoms and put armies to flight but also those who suffered without obvious “success”:

Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. They went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated — of whom the world was not worthy — wandering about in deserts and mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. (Hebrews 11:35–38)

These heavenly men, bearing worth beyond this realm, suffered. We must count the cost. Regardless of victory or defeat, whether hills be claimed with our efforts or not, remember, we do not descend from “those who shrink back and are destroyed, but [from] those who have faith and preserve their souls” (Hebrews 10:39). Men of courage. Men of valor. Men of God.

Our Missing Mission

Some godly men today, perhaps many, need more mission. We need to look around us and pray. We need to fight on hills we cannot take alone. Is it safe to say that if we don’t need other men we might not be on mission? Paul often called his brothers “fellow laborers,” “fellow workers,” or “fellow soldiers” (Philippians 2:25; 1 Corinthians 16:16) — do we hold objectives together that prompt us to speak this way of one another?

Masculinity begins to atrophy when it terminates on itself and even on its family — as important as our households are. Men were made to cultivate, to build, to exercise dominion (Genesis 1:26, 28). The godly man’s gaze is on his family at home (who should be on mission as well), and also toward the horizon with a few men. He says with Joshua, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15), and he seeks with Joshua to march forth with brothers to take new territory for their God. And woe to him who is alone when he falls in battle (Ecclesiastes 4:10, 12).

“Men, we are made to conquer. Made to risk. Made to sweat and face resistance.”

So, go street preach, intercede outside abortion clinics, evangelize blocks surrounding your church, build a fence for old Mrs. Jones in Christ’s name, meet every week to pray for the nations, and raise money to support missionaries overseas. Ask your elders — a supreme model of brotherhood — how you can serve together in the church and beyond.

Men, we are made to conquer. Made to risk. Made to sweat, and face resistance. Made to hunt souls, build and mend fences, evangelize blocks, mobilize missions — and a million other worthy pursuits — in the name of King Jesus. So come, let us go out — it may be that the Lord will work for us.

“Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” In Luke 10:20, Jesus tells his followers to rejoice that their eternal future with God is assured. It may seem odd that he commands such joy. If someone said he was sending you to a tropical paradise for an all-expenses-paid vacation, wouldn’t you rejoice without being told to do so?

And yet, there are many reasons we may not rejoice frequently or fervently in our salvation. Perhaps we’ve lost sight of the glories of heaven because we’ve become absorbed with the joys of this world. Or maybe present anxieties have jostled out future realities. It could be that we’ve been Christians for so long we can hardly remember a time when we weren’t following Jesus. Our salvation feels like a comfortable old T-shirt — safe and familiar, but not a cause for great excitement.

Here’s another possible reason for not rejoicing in our salvation: we think of our personal conversion as a normal and, therefore, boring one, as not a very big deal. I understand the sentiment: I was converted as a little boy. Unlike some of my friends, I wasn’t dramatically delivered from highly visible sins. At four years old, my drink of choice was milk or orange juice, and my most serious habit was overeating Pez. If your story is like mine, you may be tempted to consider your conversion simply as a continuation of the path you were already on, rather than as a dramatic break with your unconverted life.

Whatever the reason, Jesus comes to our aid in Luke 10. He doesn’t just command us to rejoice in our salvation; he himself rejoices over the salvation of souls. And then he provides reasons for his joy — and ours. Jesus says that our salvation is (1) the work of the Father, (2) the choice of the Son, and (3) the climax of the ages. If we press into these three realities, they can fuel our own deep and daily joy.

1. Our salvation is the work of the Father.

Your conversion moment may have looked outwardly humdrum. For me, it was kneeling with my dad and brother on a brown rug in my bedroom on Center Street in Monson, Maine. I heard no voice from heaven. The roof didn’t split open. I didn’t even get to extend my bedtime later than normal that night! Others of us can’t even point to the moment of our conversion, it seemed to happen so gradually. You just know there was a time when you didn’t love Jesus and then a time when you did.

No matter what your conversion looked or felt like, Jesus declares that it was a direct work of God the Father: “In that same hour [Jesus] rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, ‘I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will’” (Luke 10:21).

In the context, “these things” includes the offer of gospel peace and the coming of God’s kingdom. Jesus is saying that God has revealed the gospel to some and hidden it from others. He’s referring to an inner revelation from God whereby he causes the gospel not only to make sense to us, but also to be desirable and attractive. The only reason someone comes to faith is because God inwardly opens that person’s mind and heart to the gospel. Our salvation is the result of God’s will: “Yes, Father, for such was your gracious will.”

Think about what this means. If you’re a Christian, it’s because God the Father willed that you would be. He was directly, personally involved in your conversion. There are no insignificant conversions, because everything God does is highly significant. I experienced a miracle on the brown rug of my childhood bedroom. I prayed to receive Jesus because the God of the universe knew me and drew me.

Notice that Jesus responds to God’s concealing and revealing work with gratitude. He thanks God, calling him “Father” to emphasize his goodness and trustworthiness and “Lord of heaven and earth” to highlight his sovereign authority. Moreover, the very joy Jesus calls for from his disciples in verse 20, he experiences and expresses in verse 21: “He rejoiced in the Holy Spirit.” This is a remarkable moment of intra-Trinitarian joy: the Son rejoicing in the Holy Spirit and praising the Father.

What began these fireworks of joyful gratitude? It was my prayer on the brown rug, along with every other conversion of ordinary, unimpressive people — “little children.” Jesus joyfully thanks God for your conversion, which is an exquisite miracle wrought by God’s own hand. Your salvation is the will and work of the Father.

2. Our salvation is the choice of the Son.

Jesus then provides another reason for rejoicing in our salvation. He says, “All things have been handed over to me by my Father” (Luke 10:22). He then immediately identifies one of the things the Father has given him — the right to reveal God to those whom he chooses: “No one knows . . . who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” We learn three things from this remarkable verse.

First, Jesus says he “reveals” the Father. He makes God known. When we’re saved, we don’t just come to know facts — we come to know God himself. Our salvation isn’t about winning a ticket to heaven. It’s about enjoying an eternal relationship with God.

Second, only Jesus can reveal the Father to us, because only Jesus fully knows the Father. If you want to know God the Father truly and deeply, you must know him through Jesus.

Third, the only way Jesus will reveal the Father to us is if he chooses to do so. We can’t coerce Jesus to reveal the Father to us. It’s his decision.

Again, consider what this means. If you’re saved, it’s because Jesus chose to reveal God the Father to you. There’s nothing normal, boring, or humdrum about that! Your conversion is a supernatural event, a direct result of the Father’s will and the Son’s choice.

3. Our salvation is the climax of the ages.

In Luke 10:23–24, Jesus begins to speak privately to his disciples, helping them to see the extent of their enormous privilege: “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it.” Though the Old Testament prophets and kings enjoyed great access to God and his ways, they longed to see the Messiah and the coming of the kingdom of God. But it’s happening in the disciples’ day — that’s why they’re “blessed” by God.

Like the first disciples, we live after Jesus’s first coming and before his second coming, in the time of God’s inaugurated kingdom. We read in the Bible of Jesus’s words and works. We know the love of God through Jesus’s atoning death on the cross. We know the grace of God through the gospel message of justification by grace alone through faith alone. We know the power of God through Jesus’s resurrection. We know the presence of God because his Holy Spirit lives within us.

As Christians living when we do, we’re nothing special in ourselves, but we are specially blessed.

Miraculous News

Every single time the triune God writes someone’s name in heaven, it’s a divine miracle. Your conversion, whatever it looked or felt like to you, was nothing less than supernatural. There are no ordinary conversions.

And this leads us back to Jesus’s command in verse 20: “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” If we understand the miracle of our conversion, then like Jesus himself we’ll respond with exuberant thanks to God. We’ll rejoice in the fatherly love and sovereign goodness of the Lord of heaven and earth.

O come, O Wisdom from on high,Who ordered all things mightily;To us the path of knowledge showAnd teach us in its ways to go.

Rejoice! Rejoice! ImmanuelShall come to thee, O Israel.

“That was a silly mistake!” “How could I have been so dumb?” “Stupid is what stupid does.” Each of these phrases captures what we all know to be true once we’ve spent about half an hour in the real world: humans are not always the brightest! Yes, we have electric cars and send people into space. But from putting aluminum foil in the microwave to stealing candy from our teacher’s prize jar, we all make incredibly foolish missteps in life — even older people who should know better by now.

We need someone to show us our folly and lead us on a wiser path of life. The second stanza of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” provides a beautiful reminder that Jesus Christ has done just that.

Wisdom from on High

One of God’s greatest gifts is enabling people to have great wisdom, which is not simply knowing facts and figures (2+1=3) but making sound judgments about life (“a threefold cord is not quickly broken,” Ecclesiastes 4:12). Numerous people in the Bible had great wisdom, but the most famous was Israel’s King Solomon, who lived in the 900s BC and attracted people from all around the world to come hear his wise words (Matthew 12:42). But even he acted foolishly at the end of his life, showing us that the wisest person on earth is not perfect.

So who is? The only truly and fully wise one is God in heaven above; he is infinite in wisdom and never makes a mistake. All wisdom comes from God himself, who is enthroned in heaven above all creation (see Proverbs 21:30; Job 15:8; 28:12, 20).

“Jesus came to a world of folly to show us how to live with wisdom from God.”

Therefore, the New Testament stuns us with the revelation that “Christ Jesus . . . became to us wisdom from God” (1 Corinthians 1:30) and, indeed, is “the wisdom of God” in bodily form (1 Corinthians 1:24). In fact, the Gospels record Jesus teaching this idea in two distinct ways that help clarify it. In one Gospel, he says, “the Wisdom of God” will send forth prophets and apostles (Luke 11:49), while in another he says, “I am sending” them (Matthew 23:34). In other words, Jesus puts himself in the shoes of the Wisdom of God who has come from heaven down to earth (John 3:31).

Who Ordered All Things Mightily

The second line of this stanza makes an interesting claim about wisdom: it created or “ordered” all things in heaven and on earth. The hymn writer draws this idea from the Old Testament, which teaches that God made all things wisely — not like a small child haphazardly smashing together Legos but like a master craftsman making something beautiful. The book of Proverbs in particular pictures God’s “Wisdom” giving a speech (a poetic device called “personification”) about equipping kings to rule and so forth. Near the end of the speech, Wisdom states, “The Lord possessed me at the beginning of his work” (Proverbs 8:22). When God created all things in Genesis 1, Wisdom was right there with him. By wisdom, then, God ordered all things with great care — or “mightily,” as the song goes.

So, if Jesus is Wisdom, as mentioned above, then does that mean he was there in the beginning too? This is where the New Testament gives us a jaw-dropping yes. The book of Hebrews states that God has spoken to us by his Son, “through whom also he created the world” (Hebrews 1:2). Paul writes of Jesus that “by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth” (Colossians 1:16). Most vividly, the apostle John states, “In the beginning was the Word” — using Word as another term to describe Jesus, like Wisdom — and that “all things were made through him” (John 1:1, 3).

The math is simple: the Old Testament teaches that God’s Wisdom is key to creating all things, and the New Testament teaches that Jesus is that Wisdom, so it makes sense that the New Testament also teaches that Jesus is key to creating all things!

To Us the Path of Knowledge Show

Yet Jesus does not stop at being the embodiment of Wisdom. He came down to earth at the first Christmas to teach us how to be wise too. If you pay attention to his life recorded in the four Gospels, you’ll notice that he was always teaching. It didn’t matter if the crowd was big or small. Sometimes he taught hundreds by the seashore (Mark 4) or on a mountain (Matthew 5–7) or in the countryside (Matthew 14:13–21); other times he taught his disciples privately (John 13–17) or even one on one, like the woman at the well (John 4:7–30).

Everywhere he went, he shared divine wisdom. He teaches us about his Father and his Spirit, about the way of salvation, about heaven and the final judgment, about how to love one another, and much more. The people repeatedly marveled at his teaching because it was better than even the smartest people they knew, present or past (Matthew 7:29; Luke 11:31).

God’s Son knows that humans, left to ourselves, cannot help but live in folly because we constantly turn from him and make a mess of things (Romans 1:21–23). So he stoops down to show us the right path. He instructs us about money, parenting, working in the world, caring for neighbors, dealing with people who don’t like us, and much more. All the fullness of God’s wisdom dwells in Jesus bodily (Colossians 2:9).

During Advent, then, we remember with great joy that Jesus came to a world of folly to show us how to live with wisdom from God. When we follow his paths — when we listen to his teaching — we gradually become more and more like him, the true Wise One from on high.