Audio Transcript

We’ve talked a lot on the podcast about escaping a life of triviality, escaping this desire to be entertained to death. Twenty-five or so episodes in archive now prove that this is a major theme on the podcast, Pastor John. I summarized those episodes in the APJ book on pages 291–307. But here’s a unique question on the topic with a little twist, and it comes to us from an anonymous young man. “Hello, Pastor John!” he writes. “With your emphasis on Christian Hedonism, my question is about how you think of boredom. I often find myself wondering what it is exactly, and why God created the world with boredom as a main feature of daily life — at least in this age, post-fall. I’m not talking about depression, but the general ennui in this life, common to all of us.

“We stay busy with work and family and hobbies not to feel it. But it’s always there. A moment of downtime and it finds us again. Such boredom in this world seems to lead to all sorts of behaviors that Christians deem sinful: drug use, overindulging in smartphones and social media and entertainment and gaming, illicit relationships and affairs, gossiping and idle conversation. It has always puzzled me that God, at least in terms of his sovereignty over fallen man’s daily experience, has us experience a seemingly constant desire to be entertained or to otherwise ‘escape’ from reality by going to concerts, movies, playing board games, etc. At root, what is boredom? What causes it? What does it signify? And do you think God has a purpose in it for his children?”

I really enjoyed thinking about this question, partly because I’ve never thought about it before. I’ve never considered how the word (or the experience of) boredom is handled in the Bible. Isn’t that amazing? I don’t think I’ve ever asked myself that question until getting ready for this APJ. So I had never done a word search on boredom in the Bible, so this was not boring to me, which tells us something right away about the meaning of boredom — namely, it has to do with monotony. It has to do with dull repetitions that have no interest for us. So the reason thinking about boredom was not boring for me is because it was not monotonous or dull or repetitious. I’ve never done it before, and I wanted — and that’s a key word for non-boredom — to know what the Bible has to say.

And I’ll bet our listeners have already guessed what I found — namely, that word’s not in the Bible. Boredom is not. Boring and bored are not — except if you’re going to bore a hole through somebody’s ear. You can find the word boring, but it doesn’t have the meaning of this. So it’s interesting to me that the Bible doesn’t have the word boring, and it doesn’t have the word interesting anywhere in it. It doesn’t have the word exciting. It doesn’t have the word fascinating anywhere in it. (I’m basing that, by the way, on the ESV. There may be some other English translations I’m not aware of that might have some of those words, but not the ESV.)

Book of Boredom

Even though the word boredom is not found in the Bible, there is in the Bible a whole book devoted to boredom. It’s called Ecclesiastes. Listen to this:

Vanity of vanities! All is vanity. . . . A generation goes, and a generation comes. . . . The sun rises, and the sun goes down. . . . The wind blows to the south and goes around to the north; around and around goes the wind. . . . All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; . . . there they flow again. All things are full of weariness. (Ecclesiastes 1:2–8)

Now, that’s probably the closest thing you get to the word boredom: “All things are weariness.” “The eye is not satisfied” — there’s another good definition, I think, of boredom — “with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. What has been is what will be . . . and there is nothing new under the sun. . . . I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after wind” (Ecclesiastes 1:8–9, 14). That’s a very powerful description of a life that has sought non-boredom and didn’t find it under the sun — that is, without God.

Ecclesiastes is a book of what life is like if God is not the bright sun in our sky and his word is not the charter of our lives. And I think it’s in the Bible because the man who sent us this question is right. The experience of boredom is universal — not that everybody experiences it all the time, but everybody has tasted it. And he’s right also that, by its very nature, nobody likes it. Boredom by its very nature is unsatisfying. If you’re satisfied, you’re not bored.

And he’s also right that since nobody likes being bored, we all take steps — according to our personalities and our circumstances and beliefs — to get rid of it. If we’re super energetic, we might work ourselves out of boredom or play ourselves like crazy out of boredom to get rid of boredom. And if we’re more lethargic, then we may just sit on the couch, become a couch potato, turn the TV on and try to get rid of our boredom with movie after movie, streaming after streaming.

Why Are We Bored?

So he asks, “At root, what is boredom? What does it signify? Does God have a purpose in it for his children” — and I would add, for the world?

And my answer is that, at root, boredom is the relentless experience of not finding satisfaction in this world. Something starts out being exciting, satisfying, but soon we weary of it and we need something else. We take a vacation to the Alps, stand in awe for maybe two or three days, and before a week is over, the curtains are pulled and we’re sitting in front of the TV, trying to get the stimulus we’re not getting from the Alps anymore. Even great things can become boring for the fallen human heart.

What does it signify? What’s the meaning? What did God have in mind when he ordained the universal experience of boredom in a world of sin and rebellion against God? What’s his purpose for it? I’m going to give three answers: one from the Bible, one from C.S. Lewis, and one from the seventeenth-century poet George Herbert (my favorite, I think). And they’re all the same answer in different forms.

1. Eternity in Our Heart

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “God has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” Now, I don’t know all that that verse means, but the least that it means, it seems to me, is that God plans for human beings to be frustrated with their experience in this world until they realize that they were made for God.

2. Made for Another World

Here’s the way C.S. Lewis says it: “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world” (Mere Christianity, 136–37). Or to say it another way (paraphrasing Lewis), if we find that nothing in this world is a long-term solution to the problem of boredom, we were probably made for another world. Boredom points to God. That’s God’s purpose for boredom in this fallen world: to point us to another world — namely, to God and his infinitely interesting and infinitely satisfying person and work.

3. The Gift of Restlessness

Here’s the way one of the greatest English poets put it in a poem called “The Pulley.” And the reason it’s called “The Pulley” is because it attempts to describe in poetic form the way God pulls people to himself. And of course, the answer is that he pulls them through boredom. But he doesn’t use the word boredom; he uses the word restlessness. And he clearly thinks that God has made us restless or bored for a reason. So here’s the poem, and I’ll close with this:

     When God at first made man,Having a glass of blessings standing by,“Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can.Let the world’s riches, which disperséd lie,     Contract into a span.”

     So strength first made away;Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honor, pleasure.When almost all was out, God made a stay,Perceiving that, alone of all his treasure,     Rest in the bottom lay.

     “For if I should,” said he,“Bestow this jewel also on my creature,He would adore my gifts instead of me;And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:     So both should losers be.

     “Yet let him keep the rest,But keep them with repining restlessness;Let him be rich and weary, that at least,If goodness lead him not, yet weariness     May toss him to my breast.”

Or we might say, “If goodness lead us not, yet boredom may toss us to God’s breast.”

I think that is God’s design in this universal experience of boredom: to point us to the origin of everything interesting, to the world where no one will ever be bored again — God’s presence through Jesus Christ.

Audio Transcript

How do we live fearlessly? That’s how our week begins. The question today comes from a listener named David. Here’s his email: “Pastor John, hello. My question is about 1 Peter 3:15. Various translations say things like this: ‘In your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy.’ That’s the ESV, and it’s pretty much the same as the HCSB, which calls us to honor Christ with our hearts. But the KJV translates it, ‘Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts.’ The NLT says, ‘Worship Christ as Lord of your life.’ The NIV, ‘In your hearts revere Christ as Lord.’ So, honor, sanctify, worship, revere. What does this Greek lemma, hagiázō, mean? And how would you apply it to our lives?”

This passage, 1 Peter 3:14–16, has a special place in my heart because I can remember preaching on it during my very first months in the pastoral ministry at Bethlehem in 1980. And the insight that I got then, when I was preparing for that message, I had never seen before. It was so significant to me that when I saw this question, I said, “I want to do that. I want to go back there and retell this story — retell this exegesis,” because what I saw there I’ve never forgotten. It relates directly to David’s question about how to translate verse 15, which in the ESV goes, “But in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy.” And David wants to know what that phrase means in this context and then in our lives.

So, let’s put the text in front of us. I’ll start with verse 14.

But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.

Three kinds of observations bring clarity to the meaning of verse 15 — the first part, which David is asking about: “In your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy.”

Sanctify Christ?

The first observation is about the words themselves and how to translate them. Here’s the most literal rendering I can give: “The Lord Christ sanctify in your hearts.” So, sanctify the Lord Christ in your hearts.

The word sanctify is the word that’s behind all these translations — worship Christ, revere Christ, honor Christ as holy — and all of them are trying to avoid the word sanctify in English, probably because we usually think of sanctify as overcoming sin and becoming more Christlike. That won’t work when we’re talking about sanctifying God. It’s just an odd sound, and so other words are chosen to try to make it more clear.

But the word sanctify, at root, means “set apart for some sacred purpose” or “consecrate.” And in God’s case, it certainly involves revering, honoring, worshiping, recognizing his holiness — his transcendent purity — and feeling the beauty and greatness and preciousness of that holiness. So all of these translations have elements of truth in them. And I think “honor Christ as holy” comes as close as we can get to sanctifying Christ — that is, recognizing God as supremely, transcendently pure and beautiful and valuable and (we’re going to see) dreadful in a good way. I’ll come back to that in a minute.

Fearless and Hopeful

Here’s the second way we get clarity with this phrase in verse 15, “honor Christ the Lord as holy.” Let’s see what’s on either side of it: what comes just before, in front, and what comes just after it, behind. So, just before are these words: “Have no fear of them,” referring to persecutors. Have no fear of them. Then comes, “but honor the Lord Christ as holy.” So, “honor the Lord Christ as holy” is somehow an alternative to being afraid, having fear of those who persecute.

Then after them, in verse 16, come these words: “. . . always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you.” So, it seems that in Peter’s mind the instruction to honor Christ the Lord as holy would be a means to helping you be prepared to give a reason for the hope that is in you.

So in front of the words, he says, “Have no fear of your persecutors,” behind the words, he says, “Be ready to tell why you are hopeful.” And in between, he says, “Honor Christ the Lord as holy.” So now, let’s hold on to that, and you’ll see why that fearlessness in the front and hopefulness in the back are significant.

Isaiah’s Key

So, here’s the third observation. And this was what in 1980 was new to me. I’d never made these connections, and they’ve stuck with me ever since. The key that I had never seen before when I was reading this text was that it’s a quotation from Isaiah 8:12–13. So, here’s what Peter read in Isaiah that was so relevant to his situation that he adapted it in this context. Here’s what Isaiah 8:12 says: “Do not call conspiracy all that this people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread.”

Now in the Septuagint, in the Greek Old Testament, those last words are the exact words that Peter uses to tell his readers not to be afraid or troubled by your persecutors. So that’s a direct quote there. In verse 13 in Isaiah 8, “But the Lord of hosts, him you shall honor as holy,” we see the same word hagiasate in the Greek Old Testament. “Sanctify the Lord, Yahweh” — not Jesus, but Yahweh, which he’s going to apply to Jesus. “Let him be your fear, and let him be your dread. And he will become a sanctuary.”

Now, Peter takes these words, “do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread,” and he quotes them in verse 14. “Have no fear of these vaunted persecutors around you.” And then he sees that the solution that Isaiah gives to fearing man is a holy fear of God: “The Lord of hosts, him you shall honor as holy. Let him be your fear, and let him be your dread.” And in place of honoring the Lord Yahweh as holy, Peter says to honor the Lord Christ as holy.

“When you dread distrusting Christ more than you dread your enemies, he will be a hope-filled sanctuary for you.”

This is what the New Testament writers do repeatedly. Christ becomes the fulfillment, the incarnation of Yahweh, and what was true of Yahweh then is true of Christ now. And by implication, let Christ be your fear, and let Christ be your dread, as you regard him as holy.

Our Dread and Sanctuary

Now, that may seem a very odd way to combat the fear of man — replace it with the fear of God. But the next phrase, in Isaiah 8:14, just blew me away then, and it still does. It explains how this works. It says, “Let him be your fear, and let him be your dread. And he will become a sanctuary.” Amazing. It’s amazing. God becomes a safe, hope-filled sanctuary from his own wrath and from our enemies when he becomes our dread. Now, how does that work? I think it works like this.

When it becomes more fearful, more dreadful to us to dishonor God by failing to trust his promises — when that’s more dreadful to us than being persecuted by our enemies — then those very promises of God become a sanctuary for us. They become our hope. So now the words “in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy” include the meaning, “Let him be your fear. Let him be your dread” — not your persecutors — “and he will become your sanctuary,” your solid place of hope.

“Don’t let men be your dread; let God be your dread.”

So, both the words in front of verse 15 and afterward get their meaning from the meat in the middle of the sandwich. The bread on top, the words in front, say, “Don’t be afraid of your persecutors,” and the meat in the middle explains, because when you honor Christ as holy — that is, when you dread distrusting Christ more than you dread your enemies — he will be a hope-filled sanctuary for you. And you don’t need to be afraid. And then the slice of bread that’s on the bottom of the sandwich — the words following, which say, “Always be ready to give a reason for your hope” — is explained again by the meat in the middle of the sandwich. When we honor Christ as holy, when we dread distrusting him more than we dread our adversaries, he is a reason for our hope that we can give to anybody.

I’ve never forgotten that key from Isaiah 8:12: don’t let men be your dread; let God be your dread — which at first doesn’t sound like a happy solution. Oh, but it is! Dreading distrusting God turns God into a sanctuary. He becomes a sanctuary. He will become your reason for hope, and he will become the ground of your fearlessness before your adversaries.

Agrippa said to Paul, “In a short time would you persuade me to be a Christian?” (Acts 26:28)

“You know,” Festus had said to the king, just one day prior, “I have this prisoner who the Jews are simply desperate to kill. Strange case, in my opinion. They came with the raucous of the gods, only to tell me the most idle of tales.”

“What tales?” asked King Agrippa.

“Apparently they want this man dead because he claims that some prophet died, a man named Jesus, and yet is now alive. Impossible to investigate such delusions. I am not sure what to say to Caesar.”

“May I examine the prisoner?”

“Of course, my King. We will make a spectacle of it tomorrow.”

The next day, as Agrippa sat enthroned in royal pomp and splendor with the mighty attending, he found Paul much smaller than expected. The royal hush washed over the assembly as the king motioned for Paul to give his defense.

“I consider myself fortunate,” began the prisoner, “that it is before you, King Agrippa, I am going to make my defense today against all the accusations of the Jews, especially because you are familiar with all the customs and controversies of the Jews. Therefore I beg you to listen to me patiently” (Acts 26:2–3).

Agrippa was ready to do just that.

He listened as Paul recalled growing up a Pharisee, hunting Christians, and meeting Jesus in a heavenly vision on the Damascus road. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” Jesus was alive, Paul insisted. Furthermore, he said that Moses and the prophets spoke of this very thing and even foretold such things as salvation extending to the Gentiles (Acts 26:4–23).

“Paul, you are out of your mind,” Festus interrupted with a yell, “your great learning is driving you out of your mind” (Acts 26:24). To this Paul responds with something equally as shocking to the king’s sensibilities. And how Paul replies next, how he turns matters to the king directly, offers a balancing word to one of our evangelistic emphases today.

King in the Dock

“I am not out of my mind, most excellent Festus,” Paul responds, “but I am speaking true and rational words.” And as if pointing to the throne, he continues, “For the king knows about these things, and to him I speak boldly. For I am persuaded that none of these things has escaped his notice, for this has not been done in a corner. King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know that you believe” (Acts 26:25–27).

Paul, on trial before the king, puts the king on trial before Christ.

Paul’s appeal is no vague word or bashful plea. He speaks plainly, courteously, boldly, and directly. He does not shoot over Agrippa’s head but lets the arrow fly at his heart. Before the watching eyes of everyone who is anyone in the region, Paul looks him in the eye, and says for all to hear, “King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know you do.”

The arrow finds its mark. The king staggers. In wonder he asks, “In a short time would you persuade me to be a Christian?” (Acts 26:28).

Whether Long or Short

I find great correction in this scene, summarized by Paul’s final response,

Whether short or long, I would to God that not only you but also all who hear me this day might become such as I am — except for these chains. (Acts 26:29)

Organic, relational, “long” evangelism has its place. This form of evangelism tends to be especially useful with people woven into our lives. With those we will see again, we want them to witness our lives and open up to us that we might bring Christ to their specific hopes, sins, and sorrows. One brick at a time, one conversation at a time, because we have more time, so we think. “Whether short or long” he declared to Agrippa, “I wish that you would be a Christian.” He makes space for long.

But how many of us today have jettisoned the first half — the short-term, first-conversation evangelism that arrested the king? He did not expect that Paul would press the relevance of this news to his conscience and call for a response in their first conversation. “In such a short time,” he asked, “would you persuade me to be a Christian?” In such a short time, Paul would.

Not only did Paul have the spine to evangelize the king in front of all notable somebodies, but he turned to them, seeking to win everyone within the range of his voice to Christ. “I would that all of you be a Christian, just as I am,” he said turning to the spectators, “except, of course, for these chains.” He only had one shot. And so, with little regard to his own welfare, he broke down the fourth wall and addressed every man, woman, and child openly: “I would that all of you believed and were saved!”

Lies Short-Circuiting Evangelism

Do we do the same? Does it feel taboo to share the gospel at the bus stop, restaurant, basketball game, on the airplane? “Drive-by” evangelism, some have called it. Unnatural, ineffective, abrupt, and most likely offensive. That sort of thing is impolite and undemocratic, and if it must be done, surely it should be left to those especially gifted as evangelists, right?

When I am tempted to think this way, such resistance belies several wrong beliefs that are especially compelling in our day.

‘Jesus can’t save in one conversation.’

When I forget that the gospel is the power of God for salvation (Romans 1:16), I remain silent. Offering a word of true hope to a stranger can’t do anything but make me look foolish, so why bother?

But Paul remembered the power of the gospel.

“God, through his gospel, can and does save — sometimes over years of relationship and often in random, short conversations.”

One vibrating with divine life, quaking with expectation, muscular enough to capture and liberate even the chief of sinners. He was willing to persuade them, with a “loud voice” at his trial, and expected King Agrippa, the military tribunes, and “the prominent men of the city” to cast off their crowns and bow their knees before the King of glory (Acts 25:23). If Jehovah’s Witnesses, with their door-to-door evangelism, believe they have a message that can save in a moment — why not the actual witnesses of Jehovah?

‘Salvation is my work, not God’s.’

New birth is not fundamentally the offspring of a good relationship between a Christian and non-Christian. Our coffee conversations or basketball games or neighborly help has no power to raise anyone from the dead. Salvation is now and forever a sovereign act of our Almighty God. When Nicodemus hears Jesus explain this, he is perplexed and astounded (John 3:4). “You must be born again.”

No, Nicodemus, your positive assessment of me and my miracles is not enough — you must be born again.
Yes, your self-striving will not avail you of the kingdom. Correct, you can no more choose to be born again spiritually than you chose to be born physically.
You have as much control of the Spirit as you do the wind. And if you had read the Scriptures correctly, none of this should surprise you.

That night Jesus baffled Nicodemus, but it can encourage us in our evangelism. No matter how vulnerable, risky, awkward it feels, God, through his gospel, can and does save — sometimes over years of relationship and often in random, short conversations. Nicodemus’s life, for one, shows what one uncomfortable conversation can do (John 7:50–51; 19:38–40).

‘A personal relationship makes evangelism easier.’

In my experience, the less short-term mindset I have at the beginning, the harder long-term evangelism tends to be. If I refuse to tell someone from the get-go that I am a Christian, the harder it becomes to tell him later. It always feels odd to introduce something so massive about myself later on. It seems to betray that Jesus isn’t really that important to me.

“I know we have known each other for a while now, but did I ever mention what matters most to me? I believe a murdered Jewish carpenter — who was also God in the flesh and the fulfillment of God’s plan for the world — is now alive, enthroned in heaven, and will come back soon to judge the world in righteousness?”

“Gospel truth doesn’t only travel through well-established relationships, nor does it travel at all when not shared.”

Typically, the more upfront we are in the beginning (if possible, in the very first conversation), the easier it becomes to return to Jesus later on. And again, it is our privilege to share the hope that we have, and not our responsibility to convert the person by our conversational prowess. The saving work is God’s alone.

God, Give Me One

None of this is an assault on “relational” or “friendship” evangelism. The apostle himself, after all, would win King Agrippa in a short time or long. My point is that long-term evangelism must not be our only method, nor is it a reasonable excuse to neglect single-conversation evangelism. Despite the merits of the statements like, “Truth travels best through relationship,” I want to remind you, as I remind myself, that gospel truth doesn’t only travel through well-established relationships, nor does it travel at all when not shared.

I know of an elderly saint in my church who recently told me, “I have prayed every day for God to send me one person that day to tell about Jesus, and in fifty years he has not failed me once.” Paul modeled such bold, firm, polite, short and long evangelism. Let’s pray such prayers and not fail when it comes time to speak.