Religious activity can make you feel “Christian”, at least for a little while. But if your Christianity is founded on you doing something for God, it has no root and will die in due time. A true, deeply rooted faith is founded in love for a person: Jesus. Anything less and you will either abandon the faith when trials or persecution comes or other desires will end up choking your faith. Don’t become distracted from the main thing: before you go “do something big for Jesus” or “go to Church” or “live for Jesus” start your day by simply asking “Do I love Jesus? Has my love grown cold for Jesus? Have I spent time with Jesus?”

“If anyone has no love for the Lord, let him be accursed” Paul says in 1 Corinthians 16:22. Jesus after He rose from the dead asked Peter three times in John 21 “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” These are heart-searching and serious verses. Loving Christ is not an optional part of Christianity. Therefore, there is no better question to examine the state of your heart than simply asking “do I love Jesus or not?” Yet I have often found in my own life that this question can quickly become very abstract. How do you know if you love Jesus? Are there any objective tests to help you assess the state of your soul?
As is so often the case, J.C. Ryle in his book “Holiness” gives a clear and helpful answer on how you can know if you love Jesus or not. His words are worth your time and represent an excellent set of ways to examine yourself to determine if your love for Christ has gone cold. I quote his 8 marks of love below and for the rest of this post, I want to think through how these marks can help you know if you love Jesus. In fact, what Ryle gives below summarizes the Christian life itself powerfully and concisely.
If we love a person, we like to think about him.
If we love a person, we like to hear about him.
If we love a person, we like to read about him.
If we love a person, we like to please him.
If we love a person, we like his friends.
If we love a person, we are jealous about his name and honor.
If we love a person, we like to be always with him.
From “Lovest Thou me?” in Holiness by J.C. Ryle
You know what love looks like on a human level.
Ryle’s goal in this section of “Holiness” is simple: if you know what love looks like at a human level, then you already know what it looks like to love Jesus. Each of the 8 marks Ryle gives are based on the simple fact that if you love a person, you behave a certain way towards them. Likewise, if you don’t behave a certain way towards a person, chances are you don’t truly love them. If you love a person, you think about them, talk with them, want to be with them. You are concerned to please that person, you care about that person’s reputation. In short, your love for that person is demonstrated in visible outward behaviors.
Therefore, Ryle in these 8 marks wants you to simply ask “are these things true of me with regards to Jesus?” Do you think about Jesus? Do you long to hear from Him through daily Bible reading and the preached word? Are you concerned with pleasing Him and His opinion of you? Do you love the people He loves and died to redeem? When others speak poorly of Jesus, are you bold enough in your love for Him to defend His reputation? If the answer to these questions is “no” then perhaps your love for Christ has grown cold. You might say “of course I love Jesus!” but if that love is not seen in any of the ways Ryle lists, perhaps you love Jesus in word only.
How do you know if you love Jesus? Examine your life.
Asking whether you love Jesus isn’t a trick question or an impossibly abstract inquiry. Love for a person shows itself in inward delight and external expressions.
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Paul then shows the church what that “mind” looks like—Christ not insisting on His rights but lowering Himself for others to be exalted (Phil. 2:6–8). Have this Christ-shaped mind in you, which is not solely a way of thinking (important as that is) but also of feeling and acting toward one another. In other words, Paul wants Christ to be heard and seen in us.

1. Philippians provides a helpful theological framework for Christian fellowship.
The term koinōnia, often translated “fellowship,” “partnership,” or “solidarity,” bookends Paul’s letter to the Philippians. Paul and believers have koinōnia in the advance of the “gospel” (Phil. 1:5, 7), in “suffering” (Phil. 4:14), and in “giving and receiving” (Phil. 4:15). But this horizontal koinōnia is rooted in a vertical koinōnia in gospel advancement with the Father (Phil. 1:3, 5), a “koinōnia in the Spirit” (Phil. 2:1), and a “koinōnia in the sufferings” of Christ (Phil. 3:10). This koinōnia is thoroughly Trinitarian. God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is the One who completes the work He began (Phil. 1:6) and who wills and works in and through His people (Phil. 2:12–13).
God advances the gospel through Paul in prison, so Paul highlights his essential role by employing a passive verb when describing “what has happened” through his incarceration (Phil. 1:12). God advances the gospel Paul proclaims (Phil. 1:12, 25). God also functions as the primary Giver in their giving and receiving, so Paul rejoices in the Lord for the gift that the Philippians sent to Paul in prison, a gift that caused him to abound: “I received full payment, and more [literally, ‘abound’]” (Phil. 4:18). But Paul just noted that he experiences abundance and knows how to abound because of the One who strengthens him (Phil. 4:12–13). God gives through human givers. These gifts are likened to “a fragrant offering” and “acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God” (Phil. 4:18). A gift to Paul is a gift to God, “for all things are from him, through him, and to him. To him be glory forever. Amen” (Rom. 11:36).
Lastly, God grants believers suffering to make them more dependent on Him and other believers; or, we could say, dependent on Him through other believers, like Epaphroditus. He nearly died to alleviate Paul’s suffering with his presence in prison and his gift from God through the Philippian church (Phil. 1:29; 2:25–30; 4:14). The next time you think of missions, preaching, suffering, and all your relationships, remember God’s divine involvement and enablement. It changes everything, especially our understanding of Christian fellowship.
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Bringing together, then, the “permanency of the gifts which qualify for the office,” and the church’s judgment “that Christ is calling this man to the exercise of the office,” Murray considers it inconsistent for the elder to be installed for a specified period (despite the PCA’s “perpetual” ordination, this does not preclude churches from specifying terms for ruling elders’ service on the session).

I know a family with two cats of their own plus a third cat that holds a sort of quasi-official status. Number THREE gets fed morning and evening at the same time as ONE and TWO, but THREE doesn’t get the whipping cream treat of her fellow felines. ONE and TWO spend time outside during the day but come in at night. Alas, THREE is relegated to the outdoors except when the householder allows her into his office for a spell. THREE receives affection like ONE and TWO, but she lives somewhere between the status of a family cat and a neighborhood cat. The family has, in a sense, 2.5 cats.
I love the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), including our biblical form of government: rule by the plurality of elders. I recall, decades ago, the words of a long-serving ruling elder who told me: “The beauty of our church’s form of government is that a layman may rise to the highest office in the church, an elder.” His words reflected the PCA’s position, found in the Book of Church Order (BCO), of having only two offices in the church – elder and deacon.
Here I’ll suggest two specific areas in which the PCA – while holding to two offices, not three – in practice, encourages what has been called, half-seriously, a 2.5-office system.
First, ruling elder terms on the session.
An article by John Murray will be helpful, originally published in The Presbyterian Guardian (Feb. 15, 1955). An Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) teaching elder, Murray helped to revise the Church’s Form of Government. In “Arguments Against Term Eldership,” Murray states “the idea of being ordained to office for a limited period of time is without warrant from the New Testament, and is contrary to the implications of election and ordination.” (Murray makes clear there are cases in which a ruling elder may be removed from office.) He notes, “. . . there is no overt warrant from the New Testament for what we may call ‘term eldership.’ There is no intimation . . . that the elders in question were ordained to the office for a specified time. This is a consideration that must not lightly be dismissed.”
Murray acknowledges that while “the New Testament does not expressly legislate against term eldership, there are considerations which fall into the category of good and necessary inference, and which militate against the propriety of this practice.” He notes the qualifications for eldership are of a “high order,” from 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1. The elder’s gifts “are not of a temporary character,” the implication, therefore, “. . . that he permanently possesses them.” When a church elects a man to the office of elder, she must be convinced that he possesses the requisite qualifications and gifts. Here Murray adds an essential consideration: in electing an elder the church also judges “to the effect that, by reason of the gifts with which he is endowed, Christ the head of the church, and the Holy Spirit who dwells in the church, are calling this man to the exercise of this sacred office. . . . The Church is acting ministerially in doing the will of Christ” (see Acts 20:28). Bringing together, then, the “permanency of the gifts which qualify for the office,” and the church’s judgment “that Christ is calling this man to the exercise of the office,” Murray considers it inconsistent for the elder to be installed for a specified period (despite the PCA’s “perpetual” ordination, this does not preclude churches from specifying terms for ruling elders’ service on the session).
Murray’s third line of argument “pertains to the unity of the office of ruling,” in which respect the ruling and teaching elder “are on complete parity.” He perceives that term eldership for ruling elders “draws a line of cleavage between ruling elders and teaching elders in respect to that one function” common to both. Murray refutes the argument that because teaching elders are called to full-time ministry but ruling elders to part-time, this provides a basis for ruling elder terms. Full- or part-time service has “absolutely nothing to do with the question of the permanency of the call to office,” he says. Murray concludes with seven practical considerations against term eldership.” The first two concern the “notion of trial periods,” in the minds of congregants, as well in the minds of elders themselves. Such notions have no place concerning eldership.
Second, infrequent or denied ruling elder leadership in corporate worship.
In the PCA, some if not many churches typically allow ruling elders a speaking part in the service: reading a passage of Scripture or leading the affirmation of faith, or offering one of the several prayers. But for those churches that do not, why is that the case? Certainly, there are a number of ruling elders (perhaps most, given some training?) possessing the requisite qualities for an effective reading or prayer (which should be assigned and prepared for). (An effective reading, by the way, is more challenging than one might assume; even more so, a prayer.) Shouldn’t we naturally expect that a congregation will be encouraged in their own Christian walk as they see and hear one of their own shepherds – a “non-professional” – leading in worship before the living God? Might not such examples serve to nudge some members to improve their own giving of attention to the Word and prayer?
Further, considering the character traits and gifts required of the ruling elder, and given that the PCA upholds the position of all elders sharing the same office, on what basis should any church view her elders as unequipped for leading some portions of corporate worship? Again, preparation for such a role is assumed. Every part of corporate worship is a holy act, and every participatory role a sacred undertaking. (It could be instructive that in a sister denomination, the OPC, although holding a three-office position – teaching elder, ruling elder, and deacon – ruling elder participation in corporate worship may be as widely practiced as in the two-office PCA.)
In conclusion, please don’t misinterpret my intent. These are not sin issues. Rather, may this essay encourage discussions within PCA churches and courts that may lead to a closer aligning of our practices with our excellent doctrine and polity. And, all to the glory of God! (I’ll close now, as cat THREE managed to wander inside the house uninvited.) That said, should greater consistency be achieved respecting these and possibly other ruling elder matters one day, truly it will be . . . the cat’s meow.
A Presbyterian Elder
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