Many are the hindrances to our spiritual flourishing. Weights cling, whenever possible, to stop us from running (Hebrews 12:1–2). They fasten themselves to our feet, hold us down, and stop the soul from soaring to heaven.

What do these burdens look like? Their appearance is varied, and often subtle. Rarely assuming the form of evident sin, the hindrances that hold us back frequently claim to be of great value. Endless emails that must be answered, a never-ending to-do list, another important meeting — the hundreds of worthy components that make up a productive day. So often, these are the weights that cling and keep us from abounding.

“When the soul beholds beauty, it grows wings.”

The antidote? To recalibrate our value system. As we limit our love of productivity, we may learn to delight in that which is majestic. We have trained ourselves in efficiency; we must also train our minds in the discipline of beholding in order to contemplate glory. For when the soul beholds beauty, it grows wings.

Problem with Productivity

Before we consider more fully this dynamic of seeing and soaring, it is helpful to dissect the problem further. Why can the ordinary pressures of life exercise such a spiritually hindering influence? How do they stunt our flourishing in Christ?

Of course, the realities of a busy schedule are not inherently evil. We need not label them as sin. At the same time, they can be detrimental, even dangerous, to a life that seeks spiritual strength. The reasons for this danger issue from the subtle impulses that guide so much of our everyday lives. Underpinning the habitual practices of the modern man are ways of thinking whose logic rarely accords with biblical Christianity.

Foremost amongst these impulses is our preoccupation with utility. This is not an obscure way of saying we love dishwashers. Rather, we delight in all things that produce. We celebrate processes, efficiency, and tangible outputs. We esteem gadgets and machines alike, because their usefulness is quantifiable. We can measure their contribution. Where this preoccupation came from is not entirely clear. Most likely, it developed over many decades as we celebrated an improved quality of life brought about by the industrial revolution. The advent of modern medicine, the automobile, and food-supply chains taught us to esteem mechanized production. Couple this production with a steady increase in material wealth, and we gradually came to treasure all forms of utility.

The problem with such a disposition is that it distorts our understanding of ultimate value. Don’t misunderstand me. I praise God for the health care I receive. I am truly thankful for the car parked outside of my home. But our obsession with utility has trained us to neglect almost anything that doesn’t yield a product. We are not inclined to celebrate time spent watching the sunset or gazing at the stars. Why? Because there is no quantifiable output. Our estimation of value has been reduced to that which we deem “useful.”

In a World of Busy

This explains much of the world around us today. Business schools at universities receive more applicants than the humanities. Learning how the markets work is considered more worthwhile than studying a dead language. Of what use are Greek and Latin, anyway? Bookstores are overflowing with volumes that teach time-management skills; marginalized are those books whose contents prompt me simply to ponder. Why read Augustine when I could learn another work hack?

In like manner, the daily schedule enshrines productivity. We prioritize emails, meetings, and other such labors because their outcome is often easy to measure. We neglect opportunities to think, to contemplate, and to wonder. Rarely will these feature on the to-do list. In short, our understanding of value is anchored securely to the notion of utility.

Again, the busyness of daily life is not inherently sinful. We rightly value productivity. Christians should be among the foremost contributors to society. I remind myself of the importance of responding to emails. However, by attributing so much worth to that which produces an output, we often fail to acknowledge a different type of value. We miss an outworking of worth that is entirely unrelated to productivity — one that is central to our abounding in Christ.

Plato, Winged Horses, and Beauty

Around the same time Plato wrote his Republic, he wrote another work, less well known, called Phaedrus. In it, Plato ponders the immortality of our souls and how we may nourish them. He creates a metaphor wherein he depicts the soul as a charioteer with two horses. Frequently, Plato writes, the soul is anchored to the earth. It has a diet distinctly lacking in glory, and thus, the horses plod around in the dirt. However, on occasion, the soul sees objects of beauty. Their inherent worth is self-evident. They have an enigmatic quality that echoes of a beauty in the heavens. Gazing upon this worth, the horses begin to soar heavenward. Seeing beauty, the soul grows wings.

Plato’s metaphor is compelling. Who doesn’t want to fly? But was he right to afford such prominence to the notion of beauty? Can it really raise us up from the mire of daily life, propelling our souls toward greater realities?

In short, the answer is yes. The Ancients understood beauty far better than many do today, and they perceived its transcendent worth. True beauty, they teach us, whispers of the majesty that we observe in the skies. It pushes our thoughts toward expressions of glory, greater than those that are immediately before us. This is why we are captivated by the rolling waves of the ocean or snowy mountain peaks. Their self-evident beauty takes hold of the soul and asks us to think great thoughts. Their majesty prompts us to consider an even greater glory in the heavens.

The theological reason for this relationship is simple. All beauty issues from God himself. He is the most glorious, majestic being in the universe. Thus, when we perceive expressions of beauty on earth — the infant’s hand on the ultrasound screen, a hummingbird hovering, deer galloping in the forest — we are looking at mere streams and currents, which sit downstream from the source. Such beauty is real, but it is not ultimate. It whispers of God’s beauty. In the child, bird, or deer, we sense his fingerprints. And so, if we who have eyes to see ponder these expressions of beauty long enough, they beckon our hearts to journey upstream, toward the fount. They direct our minds heavenward. Seeing beauty, the soul grows wings.

Behold Beauty in the Face of Christ

Turning to Scripture, we find that it too testifies to this relationship. The biblical authors frequently show how our gazing upon glory pulls us from the pit. Indeed, when we behold ultimate beauty in the face of Christ, spiritual malaise can become spiritual triumph. When Isaiah the prophet saw the glory of the Lord, he grasped the depths of his sin (Isaiah 6:5). He looked upon the face of Christ (John 12:41), and his soul resonated with the song of the seraphim.

“Productivity is good, but our souls long for something greater.”

When Stephen gazed at the Son of Man’s majesty, he was strong in the face of persecution (Acts 7:56, 59–60). He trusted the Lord, and his soul was at peace. And as Paul taught about the riches of the new covenant, he testified to the power of beholding Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18). Looking upon his beauty, we ourselves are transformed into his image.

Returning then to our original concern: How can I avoid spiritual stagnation via endless emails and a never-ending to-do list? We do so, in part, by understanding that such uses of our time offer limited value. Productivity is good, but our souls long for something greater — something that comes from a deliberate, intentional pursuit of beauty. Carve out time to watch the sunrise. Gaze intently at the Milky Way. See the beauty that surrounds you every day. Your heart will begin to sing as you pursue value apart from productivity.

Finally, the surest antidote is to behold Christ. Read God’s word and fix your mind upon his majesty. Meditate upon Scripture and drink of his glory. Pray diligently that the Lord would show you more of his beauty. In so doing, you will flourish. Your spirit will abound. When your soul sees beauty, it grows wings.

ABSTRACT: Baptizing new believers captures just the first half of Jesus’s Great Commission; the other is to “[teach] them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:20). Moreover, the apostle Paul’s missionary example shows that teaching is no quick or simple task. Paul taught not only unbelievers and new believers, but he continued to teach established believers through repeated visits and letters. He also helped Christians in every church learn how to teach one another under the leadership of duly appointed leaders. At every stage, Paul labored for more than mere conversion — he labored for the full maturity in Christ that comes from ongoing, Christ-centered teaching.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors, leaders, and teachers, we asked Jonathan Worthington, vice president of theological education at Training Leaders International, to explain the task of teaching in missions.

I really wanted to prepare my missions update for a supporting church, probably from Acts. But not yet; I needed to “get through” my devotional reading in 1 Thessalonians. (Yes, I admit it.) But then I read, “For now we live, if . . .” I paused. Were Paul, Silas, and Timothy not really living yet? Perhaps not feeling fully alive before — what?

I expected something like, “if we are in Christ,” or some equally rich Christological and salvific theme. Such would certainly be true. But that is not what they wrote.

For now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord. (1 Thessalonians 3:8)

These Thessalonians — some Jewish synagogue-goers, “a great many” devout Greeks, “not a few” leading women (Acts 17:4) — already trusted Christ. They were secure in his righteousness; they had peace with God and eternal life (1 Thessalonians 1:6, 9; 2:13). Yet Paul and his coworkers were not satisfied. Not until Timothy returned with good news (euangelion): the saints are maturing together in faith and love (1 Thessalonians 3:6). Now there can be deep comfort, even life.

Mission: Maturity Together in Christ

In Paul’s missionary mind and heart, as well as in his strategy and actions, the conversion of people is not completely satisfying. Maturity together in Christ is. As we trace Paul’s missionary practice below, a glorious dimension will complement what many Christians traditionally mean by the word missions.

Some Christians speak of missions only as cross-cultural evangelism.1 Others expand the idea of missions, recognizing that the church’s mission is discipleship, which is bigger than evangelism (Matthew 28:18–20),2 though they may still reserve the term missionary for those directly engaged in the type of evangelism, church planting, and/or discipleship that crosses frontier boundaries.3 Still others commend any believer as a sort of missionary insofar as he or she participates in God’s purpose, activity, and goal — God’s mission — by playing whatever part God has given and equipped the believer to do.4

Paul’s sense of participating in Christ’s mission manifests in numerous connected layers. As we notice the connective impulse and end-goal of all the layers, the word mission(s) — in this article, at least — will appear with this general sense:

God’s mission for his people includes carefully designed tasks, jobs, or roles that God gives to one or a group of his people so that his unified purpose is furthered and moved toward his intended global end-goal.

Every stage of Paul’s ministry included maturity together as Christ’s mission. And teaching played a crucial role in layer upon layer.

Layer 1: Teaching in the Initial Missional Vision of Paul

To focus, we begin with how Paul considered his initial missionary endeavor, specifically among the Galatian Christians (Acts 13–14).5 Even this initial layer is bigger than many realize.

“Every stage of Paul’s ministry included maturity together as Christ’s mission.”

Paul and Barnabas helped start many Gentiles and some Jews as disciples of King Jesus during their first missionary journey from their sending church in Syria’s Antioch. They worked east through the “unreached” areas of Pisidia’s Antioch and Galatia’s Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe (Acts 13–14). People believed. Churches were formed.6

Some brief clarifications are already necessary. First, Paul may not have considered Acts 13–14 his first missionary journey, but just his first missionary journey from that sending church. He had already been doing the stuff of such missions in Damascus (Acts 9:19–25), Jerusalem (9:28–30), his own hometown of Tarsus (presumably: cf. 9:30 and 11:22–25), and Syria’s Antioch itself (11:26). Also, in light of Pentecost, it may not be best to use unreached to refer to the people and regions in Acts 13–14 (as I have done before). As the list in Acts 2:9–11 shows, Jews from these regions had already embraced the gospel, and likely had shared the gospel with others back home. Nonetheless, Paul and Barnabas’s missionary journey established the gospel’s presence in southern Galatia far deeper than before.

After Paul and Barnabas reached Galatia’s eastern border (Acts 14:21), they stood on the cusp of a tactical missions decision. Turning northeast, they could bring the gospel into the land of Cappadocia. Delaying that movement would result in some Cappadocians dying in their sins, without hope. Or they could travel southeast through Paul’s hometown of Tarsus and around the coast to their sending church. What was their tactical missions move? Neither.

Even as “frontier” or “pioneer” missionaries, they knew that their King’s commission — and thus their mission — was not yet complete in southern Galatia. The task wasn’t finished. True, the region was not “unreached,” and churches were formed throughout. But they were not satisfied with this; none of it meant their royal mandate for that place was over.7 Therefore,

They returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God. And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed. (Acts 14:21–23)

Teaching disciples in various forms was integral to the initial layer of these missionaries’ commissioned mission — strengthening, encouraging, kingdom speaking. So too was establishing formal leaders in that local community of faith to carry on the discipleship process, the mission. (We will see more about this layer below.)

Layer 2: Teaching Again and Again

Paul’s sense of participation in God’s mission did not stop with that initial stage, even though it included all three legs of the missional stool: new converts (evangelism), new communities (church planting), and nurtured churches (discipleship).8 Teaching the same disciples and churches remained vital in Paul’s mission well beyond the initial frontier.

For example, Paul continued to teach the believers in Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe, as well as in the smaller towns from a distance, by sending them a theologically and practically robust letter: Galatians. Would Paul have viewed this letter as separate from his initial missionary work there, as if one was missions while the other was not? I see no evidence that Paul thought like that.

Within this layer of Paul’s mission to the Galatians, he taught about massively important themes: justification by faith in Christ; how this relates to the Mosaic law in God’s wise redemptive-historical plan, culminating in Christ at the fullness of time; using freedom in Christ for loving each other; practically and ethically walking by the Spirit, particularly in community.

Paul’s epistolary teaching displays his passion and goal: “I am . . . in the anguish of childbirth until Christ is formed in you” (Galatians 4:19).9 Paul’s sense of mission plays the long game: maturity together in Christ. This is why Paul’s mission continued from initial layer to further layer — and on to further layers still.

For example, Paul and Barnabas wanted to visit those Galatian churches in person again (Acts 15:36). Why? Their explicit reasoning for another Galatian missions trip was “to see how they are” and to strengthen the churches (15:36, 41).

As Paul revisited those already-reached, already-engaged, already-churched people of southern Galatia — with Silas now instead of Barnabas, and the Galatian Timothy from Lystra onward — he delivered still more teaching. On this trip (Acts 16), his teaching involved, among plenty of other topics I’m sure, delivering the theological and practical decisions made by the council of apostles, elders, and other appointed representatives (from 15:2). As his Master’s mandate specified, Paul’s teaching in his missionary trips was geared toward obedience, not bare belief (16:4).10 Again, just as Paul had hoped and strategized, “the churches were strengthened in the faith,” even growing “in numbers daily” (16:5).

“Paul’s teaching in his missionary trips was geared toward obedience.”

And we are still not done with Paul’s sense of mission to the Galatians! Paul went back again to the Galatian churches, again “strengthening all the disciples” (18:23). It seems Paul’s missionary mind and heart were profoundly committed to strengthening churches — that is, with helping believers keep maturing together in Christ — in addition to helping others come to know Christ Jesus, join the local church, and mature together.

Paul’s missional trajectory is unified, borderlessly transitioning from the unreached frontier to the same reached and engaged area, and still beyond to those same established churches and Christians so they are further and further taught. What is more, it continues still beyond.

Layer 3: Teaching Through Letters

Galatians was sent to a young cluster of churches. But Paul continued to send such letters to churches even if they had been firmly established for years. We do not have any of Paul’s subsequent letters to the Galatians (I imagine he sent some). But we can get a glimpse of the types of teaching Paul’s missionary mind and heart would unfold to longer-established churches. Take 1 Corinthians, for instance.

First of all, in 1 Corinthians — as in Galatians and all his letters — Paul organically weaves throughout clear teaching about the good news, the gospel. Jesus is King (Messiah, Christ). He died for our sins, remedying its guilt, shame, and power. He rose for our justification and glory. He is enthroned. He sends his Spirit to equip and empower us for daily life and relationships. He is going to raise us bodily and cause us to reign with him in the new earth.

What is more, Paul teaches that all this must affect life now. So, Paul teaches the Corinthian Christians about functioning as the church gathered (e.g., chapters 11 and 12–14); engaging each other as small or large clusters of Christians in the marketplace, or at dinner parties at a patron’s home, or even with pagan friends in the public or rented rooms within the various temples (chapters 8–10); daily living even as smaller Christian units or as individual Christians in the privacy of their own homes (chapter 5) or at evening parties (chapter 6); how any Christian should think and hope and act in relation to the impact Jesus’s bodily resurrection has on our present and future bodies (6:13–15; chapter 15). That is a lot of practical discipleship training!

As Paul continues teaching the believers through his letters — often bringing coauthors into this part of the mission — he consistently pursues this missional end: stand fast, mature together in Christ. As he and Sosthenes write, “My beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58). And as he and Timothy write, “[Christ] we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ” (Colossians 1:28). And Paul extends this mission still further.

Layer 4: Teaching Through Helpers

Paul continued his missionary trajectory through sending helpers like Timothy or Titus to further establish clusters of churches. His goal was that local leaders — using terms like elders (Titus 1:5), overseers and deacons (1 Timothy 3:1, 8), pastors and teachers (Ephesians 4:11) — would be raised up and established solidly for the long haul. Why? To carry on the mission of maturity together in Christ. Therefore, Paul taught Timothy and Titus to teach the churches and their budding leaders (2 Timothy 2:2) about how the Scripture-saturated Christ and the Christ-centered Scriptures must deeply affect their daily lives, regardless of their sectors of life or spheres of influence, such as home or work or church (see all of 1–2 Timothy and Titus).

In a helpful recent study, Claire Smith found a high number of words involved in education in ancient religious communities in 1–2 Timothy, Titus, and 1 Corinthians: for example, teaching, “traditioning,” announcing, revealing, commanding, correcting, remembering.11 And there is a notable difference between these early Christian communities and the roughly contemporary mystery religions and voluntary associations: namely, a much heavier focus on teaching and learning among the Christians.12 From Paul’s language, then, early Christian churches were not only considered “worshiping communities” — though they were that — but could even be characterized as “learning communities.”

Some brief clarifications are necessary. Many readers will be from the world’s “weird” population (Western, educated, industrialized, rich, democratic). We make up only 12 percent of the global population, substantially less when considering population throughout history. Yet we are notoriously adept at making sweeping, even universalizing assumptions and applications from our own particularized set of experiences and values.13 Many of us will “naturally” (culturally) assume that “teaching and learning” looks like individualized text-focused study (where everyone has his or her own Bible) and tends toward cognitive skills. (We weird Christians have even been known to unthinkingly impose our assumptions of teaching and learning on non-Western groups in missions.)

But early Christian communities, who most likely had only communal copies of their texts — Old Testament Scriptures, some of Paul’s circulating letters, perhaps other Christian writings (some Gospels, other letters) — primarily would have engaged Scripture and theology through oral (speaking) and aural (listening) forms and in communities rather than individually. What is more, much teaching and learning happened in less formal relational modeling, as in life-on-life or apprenticeship. And the point of it all was not aimed at cognitive knowledge per se but character formation14 — and that regarding both the individual’s and the community’s character.

As a layer of the mission, Paul sent and taught helpers to teach and establish local leaders. And these Paul envisioned carrying on the same mission toward maturity together in Christ, with equally robust teaching and learning.

Layer 5: Teaching Through Local Leaders

As we have seen, Paul deemed it important to help establish elders in the churches in Galatia (Acts 14:23). Paul deemed it important to send helpers to further establish people in the local offices of elders (whom he also called overseers and shepherds/pastors in Acts 20:17–35) and deacons (see 1 Timothy 3:1–13). Paul also deemed it important to teach communities of believers who already had various types of local leaders, whether offices or otherwise, that they had such leaders precisely because the enthroned Jesus himself is still on the same mission — that is, toward maturity together.

“It seems Paul’s missionary mind and heart were profoundly committed to strengthening churches.”

According to Ephesians 4:11 (on which we will focus, rather than on broader ecclesial constructions), Jesus graciously gives “the pastors and teachers” to the saints for a reason — as if sending them on a mission. Jesus gives them “toward the preparing [or equipping] of the saints for the work of ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ” (4:12). And how long does this layer of the mission last? And toward what end? Precisely until everyone is mature together in Christ and standing fast together in him (4:13–16).

Paul’s word equipping or preparing (katartismos) is a concrete word with numerous metaphorical applications. Matthew and Mark use it concretely for mending nets (Matthew 4:21; Mark 1:19), and Paul himself uses it for the preparation of clay vessels (Romans 9:22). Both concrete actions have to do with manipulating an object in such a way that it is thereby fit for its purpose.

The way Paul describes Christ’s mission in Ephesians 4 includes Christ sending local pastors and teachers to handle and work with (manipulate, if you will, but in a positive sense!) the saints in such a way that the saints are fit for their purpose. And what is the saints’ proper purpose (their mission)? Using two prepositional eis phrases,15 Paul describes what the pastors and teachers are to make the saints fit “for” (or unto): namely, for “the work of ministry,” for “building up the body of Christ” (4:11–12).

This mission of the enthroned Christ in his churches is exactly what Paul craves to participate in. Standing fast. Maturing together. This is why he goes back time and again to the same Christians on his missionary journeys. This is why he writes them letters. This is why he sends helpers to them. This is why he encourages their local leaders to be faithful to Christ’s mission to equip the saints. For the saints also have a role in this mission.

Layer 6: Teaching Through the Saints

In Ephesians 4:12–16, Christ’s mission extends well beyond Paul, his letters, and his helpers. It extends through “the pastors and teachers” in order to help the saints better

build each other up in Christ;
help each other mature in Christ;
help each other be unified in their trust in Christ;
help each other be unified in the knowledge of God’s Son;
help each other not be moved by false doctrine;16
speak to each other the truth of Christ in love;
do their part in growing and building up Christ’s body in love.

Worded differently, as Paul writes to nearby churches, “Let the word of Christ dwell among you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16).17

Notice how it is only when the saints themselves take seriously their part of Christ’s mission that the deceitful and false teaching will stop battering them around so (Ephesians 4:14). And the missional goal for the saints is the same as Paul’s in every layer of his missional trajectory: believers maturing together in Christ, standing fast in the faith together (1 Thessalonians 3:8; cf. 2 Thessalonians 2:15; 1 Corinthians 16:13).

If the saints are to sound like Paul in his missionary mind, heart, strategy, and action, they (we!) can be regularly asking questions like these: Are we all helping each other grow into the head, Christ? Is the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16; Philippians 2:5) and even Christ himself (Galatians 4:19) being formed within and among us all?18 Are we all maturing together in Christ in ordinary life: in family dynamics, in how we eat and drink together, in the market, with Christian friends, with pagan friends, in our gathered church? What about when no one is looking except that prostitute? What about in daily work, whether leather tanning, or working in the city’s treasury, or selling fabrics, or serving as a jailer or soldier? Are we all being fully discipled in God’s mission toward maturity, which involves (in Paul’s language)

being renewed in knowledge according to the image of the Creator (Colossians 3:10; cf. Ephesians 4:23–24)
as we are being conformed to the image of King Jesus (Romans 8:29; cf. 2 Corinthians 3:18),
who himself has dominion over heaven and earth precisely as the resurrected and visible image of God (Colossians 1:13–15; cf. 2 Corinthians 4:4),
who will share his reign over the earth with us forever (2 Timothy 2:11–12; Romans 5:17; see also Revelation 2:26–27; 3:21; 5:10; 22:5),
and so train us in such reigning and judging now (1 Corinthians 6:1–3)?

For Paul, teaching and learning in the early Christian communities involved the saints carrying on the same mission Paul has been on since his initial missional work, and in his returning and re-returning missional work, and in his letters, and in the helpers, and in Christ’s formal church leaders. As Paul makes clear, maturing in Christ together involves reflecting (imaging) God ever more accurately as we proclaim and portray his character and kingship in Christ through our mental, affective, bodily, individual, and communal activity — all of which perfectly aligns with God’s first great commission (Genesis 1:26–28).19

End-Goal of God’s Mission

God has an end-goal, a telos, for every aspect of his mission from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22 and beyond. For one, the global glory of God is the end-goal of missions — even cosmic worship.20 Yet there is more to say, for God built an eternal means into this eternal worship. In short:

God decided (1) he will be globally worshiped forever (2) as his people sit enthroned with Christ forever, perfectly mature together in him.

This two-pronged end-goal of God’s mission is portrayed throughout Scripture: for example, compare Daniel 7:13–14 with 7:27 and ask who exactly is reigning to the worship of the Most High,21 and compare Luke 22:29–30 and Matthew 19:28; 25:1–34 with this passage in Daniel.22 In the end, though, God makes it an abundantly clear and present glory. So the resurrected and enthroned Jesus says to his people,

The one who conquers and who keeps my works until the end, to him I will give authority over the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron, as when earthen pots are broken in pieces, even as I myself have received authority from my Father. (Revelation 2:26–27; alluding to Psalm 2:8–9)

The kingship, the authority over the nations, and the rod of iron of Psalm 2:8–9 apply to Christ himself (Revelation 12:5; 19:15). Here in Revelation 2, he applies them to his overcoming followers.

Our enthroned Lord reiterates:

The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. (Revelation 3:21)

What is more, worship is given to this royal Lamb who shares his throne and authority with his triumphant followers (Revelation 5:8), for he has made the ransomed people from the whole world “a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth” (5:10).

God has wed worldwide worship with the co-regency of his people with his Son. As in the very end:

No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in [the new heavenly earth], and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (Revelation 22:3–5)

God has eternally purposed and temporally orchestrated in creation and history (1) that he will be worshiped precisely (2) as his children reign with Christ, mature together in him.

Everything God has done and will do — not just regarding redemption and reconciliation from Genesis 3 to Revelation 20, but even regarding the very fabric of creation and new creation from Genesis 1 to Revelation 22 and beyond — is heading toward worship of him through co-dominion of us with Christ. And detailed teaching encompassing all of life is a major contributor.

The second great royal commission (Matthew 28:18–20) nestles into and naturally nudges along the fulfillment of the first great royal commission (Genesis 1:26–28). Paul saw them linked. And every aspect and layer of his missionary impulse and activity — including so much teaching — drove toward helping God’s people stand fast, mature together in Christ, and even endure so that “we will also reign with him” (2 Timothy 2:11–12). Missions: matured together in Christ and trained to reign — all glory be to God.

Teaching Toward Maturity

As I considered Paul’s language and heart in 1 Thessalonians 3:8 — “now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord” — I realized I fell so far short of the glory of God’s mission for his people, even as a leader in a missions agency! And that prompted some challenging personal questions, which I continue to pursue and which I leave with you and your communities of faith.

Can we really live if those in our spheres of influence — at home and abroad — are not yet holding firm, not yet standing fast, not yet helping each other mature together in Christ in order to bring him worship by reigning with him forever?

Or do we, like Paul, find ourselves unable to really live if the mission is not yet done? Not “done” in the sense of others having heard the gospel, even if such hearing is all over the world. Not “done” in the sense of planting churches at home and abroad and helping new believers start the journey of faith together. Not even “done” in the sense of “discipled” if we have not taken seriously enough the true height and breadth and depth of whole-life training in individual and communal character development in Christ.

Because that is what is involved in the mission from Paul’s perspective. Over the long haul. In layers upon layers of teaching. Including equipping and passing on the missional torch to the saints themselves in this royal co-mission toward mature reigning together in Christ. And all by Christ’s Spirit of power and wisdom for the Father’s glory.

For a forgiven people, we can still be terribly bad at coping with our imperfection. I can be terribly bad at coping with the fact that, though redeemed, I am still deeply and pervasively imperfect.

My remaining imperfections regularly, even daily, disrupt and corrupt my thoughts, decisions, and conversations. How do you respond when you’re forced to see those same sins in the mirror again — the ones you have confessed, fought, and even overcome — only to have to rise, confess, and fight again? As God mapped out our narrow paths to glory, he chose that imperfection would be our constant (and unwanted) companion.

When I say imperfection, I’m not talking about unrepentant sin. “Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil. . . . No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God’s seed abides in him; and he cannot keep on sinning, because he has been born of God” (1 John 3:8–9). Unrepentant sin should disturb us until we genuinely repent and receive mercy. It should unnerve us enough to keep us awake at night. It should ruin our mental health. God will not abide in any soul where sin still reigns.

He does, however, live in souls where sin remains. In fact, every person he chooses is still darkened by some imperfection. Our remaining sin is forgiven and expiring — the day we die will be the last day we sin — but our remaining sin is still very real, and powerful, and ugly. Almost unbearably ugly at times. How could this selfishness, or impatience, or lust, or laziness, or envy possibly still entangle me?

Because God has chosen, for now, that the forgiven still be imperfect.

Well Acquainted with Imperfection

So what does a godly life of imperfection look like?

The apostle Paul was aware of his own imperfection. “Not that I have already obtained this” — the resurrection of his glorified body — “or am already perfect. . . ” (Philippians 3:12). Even as an apostle, he was acutely aware of just how not-yet he was. He knew he was an unconditionally elected, irresistibly loved, blood-bought, Spirit-filled work-in-process. An unfinished apostle. Paul was fully aware that he was not yet what he would soon be.

He was aware of his imperfections, but not paralyzed by them. “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own” (Philippians 3:12). He didn’t just sit back and wait for his resurrection to come, but pressed on to make it his own, from one degree of glory to another (2 Corinthians 3:18). Knowing that God would one day make him fully righteous at the resurrection, he was all the more hungry to grow in righteousness until that day. He worked out his salvation — he really, diligently worked, with fear and trembling — for he knew that God was at work — really at work — in him (Philippians 2:12–13).

Forgiveness, for Paul, was not an excuse to make peace with sin, but drove him further into war against sin. He didn’t see his imperfection as a reason to settle for less righteousness; he saw his imperfection as motivation for more righteousness — for more of Christ. And so he pressed on to have it, to have him.

Ambitious Imperfection

In the next two verses, the apostle draws us further into his earnest, focused, and imperfect pursuit of holiness:

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. [I am not the glorified man I want to be.] But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13–14)

What does he do in the face of all his many imperfections? He presses on. “Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on.” This is a picture of godly and ambitious imperfection in Christ — not clinging to a sense of self-righteousness or wallowing in the pit of self-pity, but pressing on to know more of Christ, to enjoy more of Christ, to live more like Christ.

To press on is unavoidably uncomfortable. It means meeting and overcoming resistance. The same word is used (in the same chapter) for persecution (Philippians 3:6). This pursuit of holiness is a steady, and at times aggressive, pursuit, a resilient pursuit, a determined pursuit. It’s not surprised by opposition or undone by setbacks. It’s a straining forward, he says. It keeps taking the next step toward godliness, even when the steps sometimes feel small or slow or sideways.

This resolve to press on is clarified and intensified by three life-changing mindsets — a disciplined forgetfulness, a focused longing, and an ambitious sense of security.

Disciplined Forgetfulness

We don’t often associate forgetfulness with faithfulness. Yet Paul says he presses on, “forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead.” The word for forgetting is the same word used in Matthew 16, when the disciples forgot to bring bread on one of their trips with Jesus (Matthew 16:5). Paul’s forgetting, however, is no accident; it’s deliberate.

So what does Paul deliberately forget? Earlier in the chapter, he catalogues his proud attempts at self-righteousness, the ways he mocked God by trying to please God on his own (Philippians 3:5–6). He knows how sinful he once was: “I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent” (1 Timothy 1:13). But grace broke through his hardness, interrupted his defiance, and led him to Jesus (1 Timothy 1:13–15). So what would he do now with the evil he had done? He consciously leaves it behind.

Everyone forgiven by God carries the memories of awful, shameful sin. Our past apart from Christ, whatever past we have, is dark enough to make any of us despair. And Satan fights hard to see that it does. He’s an accuser by vocation (Revelation 12:10). He wants us to forget all that would lift and satisfy our souls — and to remember anything that makes us question God’s love for us. And we each give him plenty to work with.

To defy him, we have to learn to forget what God has forgiven — like the loaves of bread the disciples left behind. We can’t let the sins of our past, or even the sins we’re presently battling, keep us from stepping forward, by the Spirit, into greater obedience and faithfulness today.

Focused Longing

One way to forget the regrets that would undo us is to focus on what God has promised to those he has forgiven in Christ. “One thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

“The strength to endure imperfection comes from treasuring the one who died for our imperfection.”

What does lie ahead for the imperfect but forgiven? What is the prize of the upward call of God? The not-yet perfect apostle tells us earlier in the chapter, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8). Knowing Jesus is the blazing fire under Paul’s persistent pursuit of holiness. Every other prize pales next to having him. Christ himself is the prize of the Christian life, the one reward worth all our obedience and sacrifice, our pearl of great price. The strength to endure imperfection comes from treasuring the one who died for our imperfection.

Can we not bear imperfection a little longer, and keep battling our remaining sin a little longer, if we know that at the end of our short, hard race here on earth is fullness of joy and pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11) — a wreath that will always satisfy and never perish (1 Corinthians 9:24–25)?

Christ Made You His Own

A third life-changing mindset, and the most crucial, is hiding in verse 14: “I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Two verses earlier, he says, “I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.” The redeemed life of imperfection is a captured life of imperfection.

We can keep striving to lay hold of holiness only because we know that Holiness himself has laid hold of us — and he will never let go. If you belong to him, your imperfections are imperfections purchased and cleansed by the blood of Jesus. Any not-yet-ness you find in yourself is an opportunity to remember what he paid to make you his own — as you are, sins and all — and to remember that everything ugly about you, your sins and all, will one day be made whiter than snow and brighter than the sun.

“To be sure, you are not what you will be, but even as you are, Christ has made you his own.”

In the next verse, verse 15, the apostle writes, “Let those of us who are mature” — or “perfect,” same root word as in verse 12: “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect” — “Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you” (Philippians 3:15). In other words, let those of you who are complete in Christ know you are incomplete. Let those of you who are mature know you are imperfect — and chosen, and bought, and captured, and loved. To be sure, you are not what you will be, but even as you are, Christ has made you his own.

So press through your imperfections into holiness, forgetting what lies behind and pressing forward toward all that lies ahead, so that you might experience and enjoy more of Jesus.