I hesitate to say this as a missions pastor, but I’m a pretty locally minded guy. I’m naturally inclined to pay attention to the people, places, and tasks at the tip of my nose. Faraway friends and places become far too easily out of sight, out of mind. I’m often more interested in the happenings of the city council meeting than the breaking world news on BBC.

Perhaps you resonate. Perhaps, like me, you are a nearsighted Christian trying to keep your eyes on what seems like a distant mission. You know God has called the church to make disciples of all nations, yet you have trouble connecting your daily life with this remote work. A host of important and immediate concerns push the peoples of the world to the periphery of your prayers and attention.

The church, by the very nature of her mission, is to be attentive to global gospel advancement (Matthew 28:18–20; Acts 1:8). But how can we stay excited about God’s work among all peoples? How might we keep the needs of the nations before our churches, our families, and our own souls?

Reflect on the Glory of God

First things first: we won’t be concerned with God’s globe if we aren’t concerned with God’s glory. Right thinking about the nations begins with right thinking about God. Believers don’t ultimately become world Christians by watching more news and spending more time in the ethnic food market. We become world Christians when we encounter the God who deserves and demands worldwide worship.

The psalmist summons the people of God to “declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous works among all the peoples” (Psalm 96:3). Why? “For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised” (Psalm 96:4). The logic of these two verses is simple: God’s people are to proclaim his glory all over the planet because his greatness compels it.

God is so glorious — so deserving of worship — that the praise of one people group is simply not sufficient. Our God is not like the petty pagan gods of the nations who supposedly rule over limited parts of creation (like the rain god or the god of fertility). Rather, he reigns as King over all creation and all nations (Psalm 47:7–8). Therefore, it is fitting for the infinite depth of God’s greatness and beauty to be magnified by a diversity of worshipers. We appreciate the voice of a gifted solo singer, but there is something especially magnificent when a multitude of voices comes together in glorious harmony. Similarly, God shows off his supremacy by patchworking together a multiethnic quilt of people who are joyfully committed to his praise.

And when we see God as he truly is, it will grieve us to watch the nations run after worthless idols (Psalm 96:5). We will long to see a multitude of idolaters from every place on the planet exchange their images in order to join the everlasting song of the one true God.

Read with Global Glasses

The theme of God’s glory among the nations permeates the pages of Scripture. As you work through your Bible-reading plan, take note of how many passages relate to God’s promises for the nations. When we read with global glasses, we discover that Christ’s commission in Matthew 28 is not the start of God’s heart for the nations but the extension of his ancient redemptive plan.

We see in the first pages of Scripture that God intended to fill the earth with people who image him rightly (Genesis 1:26–28). Even after the fall, God remained committed to blessing all the families of the earth through his promised offspring (Genesis 12:3). Throughout Israel’s history, God revealed that this particular ethnic group would be the means by which he saves all nations (1 Kings 8:43, 60; Psalm 67:2; 72:8–11; 96:1–13). And when Israel failed, the prophets left us with the hope of a coming Davidic King who would bring salvation to the ends of the earth (Isaiah 49:6).

At the end of the Gospels, this messianic King spilled his blood to purchase a people from every tribe and tongue. Then he recommissioned his new people (the church) to fill the earth with disciples of Jesus, which begins to unfold in the remaining books of the New Testament.

“We won’t be concerned with God’s globe if we aren’t first concerned with God’s glory.”

As you regularly open the Scriptures with your family, small group, or church, draw attention to the global references along the way. Don’t let your kids miss the fact that Romans is a missionary-support letter. Remind your small group that Philippians is a missionary thank-you note. Draw your church into the eschatological excitement of Revelation 7, when we will worship the slain but risen Lamb alongside brothers and sisters from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.

Personalize the Needs of the Nations

How do we move from scriptural awareness to real-life application? Many believers have begun to pray for the nations using resources like Operation World, Joshua Project, or (the more recent) Stratus Index. As valuable and informative as these are, the content they provide may feel theoretical and impersonal to some of us. If you are anything like me, the data can paralyze you. Should I pray for the Kanura tribes of Nigeria or the Kahar of India? Do I focus on the unreached, the unengaged, or the persecuted?

If the overwhelming amount of information discourages you, I’d encourage you to shift your attention to peoples and places to whom you have a natural and specific connection. In other words, personalize the global needs. Instead of trying to blanket the whole globe in prayer, familiarize yourself with one region of the world that you, your family, or your church have some personal ties to or interest in.

Consider rekindling friendships with foreign believers whom you crossed paths with at some point. Did your family ever host an exchange student? Has your church cared for a particular immigrant population? Leverage these connections and capitalize on modern technology to revive relationships, and see how this might lead to more inspired involvement in the missionary cause.

Another way to make global missions personal is to simply reflect on the cultures or places that interest you. Were you fascinated by the people group you read about in a recent missionary biography? Do you frequently eat a particular ethnic food? Do you enjoy entertainment or art from someplace where the gospel has never gone? If you are already interested in these people and places, let Great Commission objectives infuse that fascination.

And remember, the nations are at your doorstep. You may not be able to travel much overseas, but in our globalized age you likely have many nationalities represented in your neighborhood. Look for opportunities to interact with and learn about them. Expose your family to different foods, languages, cultures, and worldviews. Taking these steps will give you a more practical understanding of the difficulty of missions and will fuel your prayers for God to open “a door of faith to the Gentiles” (Acts 14:27). But be warned: this may be the pathway God uses to draw you overseas. I have friends whose relationships with Somalis in their neighborhood eventually compelled them to engage in full-time ministry in the Horn of Africa.

Commit to Gospel Partnerships

When all is said and done, however, the most practical way I’ve found to make missions feel like “a small world after all” is to partner with brothers and sisters doing gospel work among the nations. The more specific and personal the subject, the more excited I am to pray and be involved. I regularly intercede for a little church in Higuito, Costa Rica, because a dear mentor and friend is a pastor there. I stay tuned into gospel work in the Arabian Gulf because God has stitched my heart to a brother and his family who labor there.

I would have to forget these friends in order to lose sight of the nations and churches they serve. My commitment to these partners keeps me tethered to God’s mission in the world. So, consider the dear ones you know serving overseas, and devote yourself to their ministry. Contribute financially. Encourage them regularly.

If you aren’t acquainted with any missionaries or national ministers, ask your church leaders whom they would recommend getting to know. Though it can feel costly to invest in someone who may soon move halfway around the world, strive to build lasting relationships with members of your church who are considering long-term work overseas. Committing to these people will make remote missions feel local, and these partnerships will keep gospel ministry in distant lands at the forefront of your mind and near to your heart.

Audio Transcript

Good Monday morning, and welcome back to a new week, number 499 in our history. Amazing! And we start week 499 with a question from a listener named Elizabeth, who has an interesting question about the saving work of Christ. “Hi, Pastor John. I am studying 1 Peter, going through your LAB videos, and digging deeper to share with my fellow stay-at-home moms at church. My question pertains to tauta in 1 Peter 1:11, translated ‘subsequent.’ I’m trying to tie together ‘the sufferings of Christ’ and his ‘subsequent glories.’ It does not seem to simply refer to a chronological progression. Peter very often ties suffering and glory together (1 Peter 1:6–7, 10; 2:12; 3:9, 14; 4:12–15; 5:1, 10).

“So, here’s my question: Did Jesus have to suffer in public for God to give him those glories? Couldn’t Jesus have lived a perfect, law-abiding, substitutionary life for us in total isolation or at least in obscurity? I know he underwent his formal temptations alone. So, could he have died serenely, then risen, and defeated death and sin, but not by suffering in public? Or if he had done this, would he have not received the ‘subsequent’ glories? Was it required for him to suffer publicly and die early? So then, again, what’s the ‘subsequent’ relationship between his public sufferings and his eternal glory?”

I’m drawn to answer this question, even though in one sense it’s the kind of a “what if” question that the Bible doesn’t really address directly (“What if Jesus had lived a perfect, sinless life and died a natural death at age 85 — could that life and death save us?”). The Bible doesn’t spend a lot of time reflecting on that possibility. And so, you might think, “Well, why would you even go there?” Nevertheless, in trying to answer this particular question and questions like that, we are led to ponder the wonder that God did it, in fact, a certain way — he planned for his Son to suffer agonizingly, publicly, extremely — and why he did it that way. And that’s worth our serious meditation.

Christ’s Public Payment

So, as I have pondered the question of whether our redemption could have been accomplished by the perfection of Christ without the public suffering of a crucifixion, I see at least six reasons that the Bible gives for why this could not have happened — in other words, why Christ’s public, horrific suffering by crucifixion was absolutely necessary for our salvation.

1. Predestined Plan

The first and perhaps the most obvious reason is that these particular sufferings were predestined by God before the foundation of the world. It was God’s eternal plan that his Son suffer in this way. Acts 4:27: “Truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place.”

So, everything that Herod, Pilate, those Gentile soldiers who drove the nails and the spear, and the crucifying mobs — everything they did to Jesus in those last hours was God’s plan. It had been predestined to take place. It was not up for grabs. The alternative of a leisurely life and an 85-year-old death was not in the plan. That’s the first reason. It couldn’t have happened.

2. Fulfilled Scriptures

Second, these sufferings were prophesied in God’s word — the Old Testament scriptures that cannot be broken. Over and over again in the Gospels, the details of the final sufferings of Christ are said to be “that the Scriptures might be fulfilled” (Matthew 26:56; Luke 22:37, 24:26; John 13:18; 19:36). For example, “He was pierced for our transgressions” (Isaiah 53:5). Pierced. Not cancer, not old age, not cardiac arrest. He was pierced for our transgressions.

“The horrific public shaming and sufferings of Christ were scripted down to the details.”

In other words, the horrific public shaming and sufferings of Christ were scripted down to the details of what would happen to his clothing in the Old Testament. If those writings cannot be broken, then the sufferings could not be avoided.

3. Fitting Sufferings

Third (and this gets closer to the heart of the matter), Hebrews 2:10: “It was fitting [underline that word; put a big red circle around that word; it’s an amazing word] that he for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering.”

This is very profound, and it is worth much study and hours of meditation. God’s eternal decision to achieve our salvation through the sufferings of Christ is not arbitrary or whimsical or meaningless, but is owing to a profound fitness, appropriateness, suitableness as God considers all things. It is appropriate; it is suitable; it is ultimately, you might say, beautiful. That is, it’s in perfect harmony with all of God’s other acts and plans. We can spend a lifetime probing into why it is fitting, but let Hebrews 2:10 fly like a great banner over the sufferings of Christ. It was fitting — right, good, suitable, beautiful — in the mind of God for our salvation to be accomplished this way and not another way.

4. Sacrificial Lamb

Fourth, the death of Jesus was an intentional sacrifice given by God similar to the sacrificial offerings of a lamb in the Old Testament. Jesus, Paul says, is “our Passover lamb” (1 Corinthians 5:7). So, just as in the Old Testament, allowing a sheep to get old in the flock and die from mange was not a sacrifice. That’s not the way it worked. You took the sheep and you handed him over with your heart and with an intentionality.

So, Christ growing old in some remote village and dying would not have been a sacrifice of God slitting the throat of the precious Lamb of God. The word slaughter is used in Revelation for what happened to the Lamb and how he accomplished our salvation. There was an intentionality to the sacrifice. Jesus was offered up on the cross as a sacrifice. Hebrews 10:12: “When Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God.”

5. By His Blood

Fifth, over and over in the New Testament, Christ is said to accomplish his saving work by means of his blood. For example, Romans 5:9: “We have now been justified by his blood.” Hebrews 9:22: “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins.” I think that’s another way to draw out the significance of Christ’s death as a sacrifice.

6. Even Death on a Cross

And then finally, number six, Philippians 2 describes the humiliation of Jesus from the highest point of equality with God, to the lowest point of death — and then he adds, “even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8), as the path from the highest to the lowest, as the path that God rewards with the exaltation of Jesus, not only to new life in resurrection, but to the acclamation of all the nations as Lord of lords.

Though he was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death . . .

And then these words are not throwaway words, because it had to be the lowest point to accomplish our redemption:

. . . even death on [the most despicable, shameful, painful instrument of execution] a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him a name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:6–11)

“There is, in God’s mind, a path to glory for his Son, and this path was a painful, humiliating death by crucifixion.”

There is, in God’s mind, a path to glory for his Son, and this path was a painful, humiliating death by crucifixion. It was the depth of the suffering, it was the ignominy of the cross that he endured that was the lowest point that he had to reach for God to reward him with the highest office of lordship as a Redeemer.

Worthy to Be Lord

Perhaps one last passage to point to the fact that the slaughter of the Lamb was what made Jesus a fitting ruler of all the peoples of the world — namely, Revelation 5:9–10:

Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals [in other words, “Worthy are you to be the Lord of the unfolding of history”], for you were slaughtered [esphagēs, not died in a remote village at age 85], and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth.

So, for those six reasons at least, I would say, we can say that the glorification of Jesus Christ and the achievement of our salvation did indeed require the kind of sufferings he endured, and we will sing the song of the Lamb, the slaughtered Lamb, forever and ever as a tribute to those sufferings and our salvation.

A late middle-aged father is standing next to his boat and a pile of partly mended fishing nets, watching his two sons. He has always assumed that his sons would someday take over his fishing business and help provide for him and his wife when they grew too old to work. But now he watches them do something he never expected: they walk down the shoreline with a young rabbi who has called them to leave their fishing vocation — and their father — in order to follow him.

Suddenly, his envisioned future for him and his sons has become a swirl of uncertainty. What is he feeling? What are his sons feeling?

You may recognize this scene. It comes from Matthew 4:21–22:

Going on from there [Jesus] saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

When I read this story as a younger man, I didn’t give much thought to Zebedee. I tended to put myself in the place of James and John, following Jesus into a future of fishing for men. The uncertainty of it all felt adventurous and exciting. But now, as a late middle-aged father of adult children, I can’t help but put myself in Zebedee’s place.

Recently, I was discussing with my twentysomething son and daughter-in-law the possible call they’re discerning to follow Jesus to another country for the sake of the gospel. I do feel excited for them, but it’s significantly different when the cost is not leaving to follow Jesus, but being left as my son follows Jesus. I find myself wanting to talk to Zebedee about his experience and get his counsel.

Unless You Hate Your Father

Zebedee’s experience casts these words of Jesus in a whole different light:

If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26–27)

As a younger man, I mainly heard these words pertaining to my father and mother and siblings and friends. Now, I hear them significantly pertaining to me as a father. In order to follow Jesus faithfully, my children must “hate” me for his sake.

Of course, when Jesus says “hate” here, he’s not talking about the kind of affectional hatred we usually mean when we use that word. He’s talking about treasuring, as he does in this text:

No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money. (Matthew 6:24)

Jesus doesn’t mean here that we should feel revulsive animosity toward money. He’s saying we can’t treasure God and treasure money, because “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). The hatred Jesus is talking about looks like this:

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. (Matthew 13:44)

The man in this parable doesn’t feel revulsive animosity toward “all that he has.” He just values the treasure he’s found more than all that he has. So, he “hates” his former possessions by selling them. He knows what’s most valuable and important.

To be a Christian father or mother means not only that we must treasure Jesus more than we treasure our earthly loved ones; it means we must joyfully accept being the object of our Christian child’s “hatred” in this sense. We are part of the “all” that our child is willing to “sell” for the joy of discovering the treasure that is Jesus.

Willing to Be ‘Hated’

As you probably know, we at Desiring God want you (and everyone) to be a Christian Hedonist. We believe the Bible clearly teaches that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him. But there’s another side to Christian Hedonism. As we pursue our highest joy in God, we also help others pursue their highest joy in God. Which naturally means we want them to treasure God far above the way they treasure us.

The rubber meets the road most when it comes to fathers and mothers and other dear loved ones. There’s a real felt cost when we actively make difficult, even painful choices to treasure Jesus and his call on our lives more than those precious relationships.

But there’s also a real felt cost when we are on the passive side of such an equation — when we are the father or mother or loved one whom a Christian must “hate” (in the treasuring sense) in order to follow Jesus’s call on their lives. It’s a different experience to count ourselves among the earthly treasures someone must “sell” in order to pursue the joy of the supreme Treasure. It’s a different experience to be sacrificed than it is to sacrifice.

But it’s not any less Christian Hedonistic — not when we truly treasure our children’s pursuit of the greatest Treasure. As Jesus’s disciples, we too must “hate” lesser treasures we truly love (like our children’s nearness) in order to have him. Our willingness to be sacrificed is what this paradoxical hatred looks like from the passive side of the call, when we are not the ones leaving, but the ones who are left. At such a moment, we must keep in mind the whole nature of Jesus’s call:

If anyone comes to me and does not hate . . . even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26–27)

Fellowship of the Left Behind

Releasing our children to follow Jesus’s kingdom call is part of how we, as parents, hate our own lives and bear our own cross for Jesus’s sake. And part of what makes his call paradoxical is that this “hating” is not affectional hatred at all. In fact, it’s what love looks like. For as my friend John Piper says,

Love is the overflow of joy in God that meets the needs of others. The overflow is experienced consciously as the pursuit of our joy in the joy of another. (Desiring God, 141)

So, in being left by our children as they pursue their highest joy in the greatest Treasure, we pursue the same prize by hating our own lives in this earthly age. It’s one way we join Jesus on the Calvary road of self-sacrifice for the joy set before us (Hebrews 12:2).

The Calvary road is not an easy road. Jesus told us that “the way is hard that leads to life” (Matthew 7:14). And one of the hard moments on this road is when we’re called to join Zebedee in the fellowship of the left behind, the lesser treasures who release loved ones to pursue their highest joy in the greatest Treasure.

But as it turns out, being left behind isn’t merely, or even mainly, passive — not when we turn this painful experience into an active pursuit of our own highest joy in our greatest Treasure.