Ofttimes the primary reason why godly men are called to suffer is for the sake of witness they may give to the sincerity of their love for Christ and the reality of divine grace in them.

There is a deep mystery to suffering. While the Bible makes it plain that we must expect to encounter times of sorrow and loss, of trial and grief, we often don’t know why these times come. Though we know he is weaving together a marvelous tapestry that will wondrously display his glory, we also know it is one whose beauty we will fully appreciate only when faith becomes sight.

It was in the waning weeks of 2020 that my family faced our darkest hour, for it was then that the heart of my 20-year-old son Nick suddenly and unexpectedly stopped, and he went to be with the Lord. One moment he was a seminarian leading some fellow students in a game, and the next he was in heaven. His departure shocked us, devastated us, and left us wondering why. Why would God choose this for us, and why would God choose us for this?

“Why would God choose this for us, and why would God choose us for this?”

In the aftermath of that dreadful evening, I turned to some of my dearest friends, friends who lived and died many years ago, but whom I’ve come to know through the books and sermons they left behind. If a multitude of advisers is necessary for planning well, how much more for grieving well (Proverbs 15:22)? In the most difficult days and darkest hours, they counseled and consoled me.

Suffering as Witness

Theodore Cuyler was a close and steady companion who encouraged me to accept that God always places bright blessings behind the dark clouds of his providence. F.B. Meyer assured me that peace would come through submission to God’s will, and that I should trust him in the taking as much as I had in the giving. But it was in the words of the old preacher J.R. Miller that I found one piece of wisdom that especially helped quiet my heart and direct my path.

Ofttimes the primary reason why godly men are called to suffer is for the sake of witness they may give to the sincerity of their love for Christ and the reality of divine grace in them. The world sneers at religious profession. It refuses to believe that it is genuine. It defiantly asserts that what is called Christian principle is only selfishness, and that it would not stand severe testing. Then, godly men are called to endure loss, suffering or sorrow, not because there is any particular evil in themselves which needs to be eradicated, but because the Master needs their witness to answer the sneers of the world. (“The Ministry of Comfort”)

In every age, we hear of professed believers who abandon the faith as soon as they are called to suffer. They are glad enough to express confidence in God as long as his will seems perfectly aligned with their own, as long as his providence decrees what they would choose anyway. But when they are called to lose instead of gain, to weep instead of laugh, to face poverty instead of prosperity, they quickly turn aside and fall away (Matthew 13:20–21). Like towers built on sand, many who stand strong in days of calm collapse in days of flood (Matthew 7:26–27).

No wonder, then, that many unbelievers become convinced that the Christian faith is unequal to great challenges, that Christians will adhere to Christ only while life is easy and circumstances favorable. No wonder, then, that skeptics scoff since they have observed many whose faith was no stronger than its first great challenge. And no wonder, then, that even many sincere believers wonder whether their faith is sufficient for times of deep sorrow, whether it could withstand a dreadful shock.

It is just here that Miller’s word have been both comforting and challenging.

What the World Needs to See

In times of great sorrow, we naturally long for answers. We long to know why a God who is good and who loves us so dearly has decreed such a painful providence. Miller comforted me with the assurance that we do not need to assume that God is punishing us for sin we have committed or chastising for righteousness we have failed to accomplish. We do not need to believe that these circumstances somehow escaped his notice and darted past his control. We do not need to wonder whether it is all just meaningless and purposeless, as if “all things work together for good” except for grueling losses.

No, we can be confident that God has important purposes for our suffering, and we can be equally confident that one of these purposes is simply for us to stand strong, to continue to profess our allegiance to him. If Paul could say that his imprisonment “has really served to advance the gospel,” why shouldn’t we say the same of our bereavements (Philippians 1:12)?

Unbelievers and Christians alike need the assurance that our faith does not depend upon God delivering only what we ourselves would choose and that our love for God does not depend upon circumstances that never contradict our desires. Unbelievers and Christians alike need to be shown that God’s people will be as true to him with little as with much, with broken hearts as with whole, with empty hands as with full. All need to be shown that those who blessed God in the giving will praise him still in the taking, that those who weep tears of sorrow will still raise hands of worship, that those who trust him in the green pastures will trust him still when he leads through dark valleys. And this is precisely what my dear friend J.R. Miller called me to.

Still Good in the Valley

By God’s grace, I can profess from the valley of the shadow of death that my Shepherd is good. I can attest from a place of deep sorrow that God is providing sweet comfort. I can proclaim that while my heart is broken, my faith is intact. I can affirm that a love for God formed in days of sunshine truly can withstand days of rain. So, too, can my wife and my daughters.

“From the first moment of that first night of our sorrow, God has been present and kind, faithful and good.”

There has not been the smallest bit of coercion or the least measure of performance. There has been no need. For together we have learned that while our strength is small, God’s is great. While our hold on him is weak, his grasp on us is strong. While we would certainly be insufficient to this challenge, God has given what we need. The steadfast love of the Lord has not ceased; his mercies have not come to an end, but have been new every morning. Great has been his faithfulness (Lamentations 3:22–23).

We don’t know all the reasons why God chose to take Nick to himself at such a young age, but neither do we have any right to demand answers from our God or to insist that he account for his providence. Our confidence rests not in his explanation but in his character, not in what he has done but in who he is — the one who knows “the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose’” (Isaiah 46:10).

And from the first moment of that first night of our sorrow, he has been present and kind, faithful and good. He has been true to his every promise. We love him more now than ever.

Audio Transcript

A new week begins on this fine Monday morning. Thank you for joining us. And the week begins with a humbling question about shipwrecking the faith. What does it look like to make shipwreck of the faith? What are some personal examples of faith failing? Why does it happen? How do people shipwreck their faith?

It’s a sobering topic and a common question in the inbox, represented well by this question from a listener named Andrew. “Hello, Pastor John! Thank you for the Ask Pastor John podcast. The apostle Paul talks about ‘some’ who ‘have made shipwreck of their faith’ (1 Timothy 1:19). In the next verse, Paul singles out Hymenaeus and Alexander, both of whom appear to have been professing Christians at some point earlier. According to 1 Timothy 1:20, what did they do? And how do people shipwreck their faith today?”

Jesus, Paul, Peter, and the writer to the Hebrews — all of them — describe people who make a seemingly good start in the Christian life and then reject what they once claimed to believe. Sometimes, this first condition, this first state, is called “faith” and then is shown to be unreal faith. Faith without works is dead. You could call it “dead faith,” James would say (James 2:17). Sometimes, it’s called “knowing the way of righteousness” and then forsaking it (2 Peter 2:21). But in the end, the New Testament teaches that it is possible to make a start in the Christian life, perhaps a very long start, and then throw it away and be lost.

“It is possible to make a start in the Christian life, perhaps a very long start, and then throw it away and be lost.”

Not that God ever loses any of his children or any of his elect. He keeps them, according to 1 Corinthians 1:9, 1 Thessalonians 5:24, Philippians 1:6, and Romans 8:30. In fact, here’s what Romans 8:30 says: “Those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” None of those that God predestines, and calls, and justifies will ever be lost. Those he calls, he keeps. That’s what those verses teach.

Five Ways to Shipwreck Faith

But Jesus said in the parable of the soils that the third soil represents those who make a beginning in discipleship and then fall away. “As for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature” (Luke 8:14). Notice what their downfall was. They seemed to make a good beginning, but the cares and riches and pleasures of life are their downfall. I want you to take note of that because I’m going to come back to that when I finish looking at all these five instances.

So that’s Jesus. What about Paul? According to Philemon 1:24, Demas was Paul’s fellow worker, along with Luke. So Demas must have looked enough like a true Christian to actually pass muster for Paul. Now, his standards are really high. Remember John Mark? He wouldn’t even let John Mark go with him the second time, but he’s got Demas as his partner. And later, in 2 Timothy 4:10, Paul writes, “Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica.” Notice again the reason for the failure, the shipwreck: love for this age, this world.

Third, the text that Andrew, in asking this question, is talking about is 1 Timothy 1:19. So here’s 1 Timothy 1:18–20: “Wage the good warfare [Timothy], holding faith and a good conscience. By rejecting this, some have made shipwreck of their faith, among whom are Hymenaeus and Alexander.” And notice again, what’s the cause of their shipwreck? Rejecting a good conscience.

Fourth, what about Peter? What does Peter say? Here’s 2 Peter 2:20: “If, after they have escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overcome, the last state has become worse for them than the first.” What’s the problem? Why did they make shipwreck? They were entangled again in the defilement of the world.

And finally, number five, here’s Hebrews 3:12–14: “Take care, brothers [now, he’s talking to brothers, did you get that?], lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. For we have come to share in Christ, if we indeed hold our original confidence firm to the end.” What’s the danger? Deceitfulness of sin.

Heart’s Preference for Sin

So, I think what Paul means by making shipwreck of faith is this kind of defection from professing faith. A person makes a beginning in the Christian life — perhaps he himself and those around him think it’s a real beginning — and then he abandons the whole thing. The ship of faith shatters on the rocks.

“Most shipwrecks of faith are not at root intellectual.”

And what’s really striking in all five of these descriptions of shipwreck is that the rocks on which the faith shatters are not intellectual problems with Christianity. They’re not problems with reason. They’re not problems with historicity. In every single case, it’s a problem with the heart’s preference for sin.

The shipwreck of the third soil in Jesus’s parable is owing to riches and pleasures of life (Luke 8:14).
The shipwreck of Demas is owing to a love for this present age (2 Timothy 4:10).
The shipwreck of Hymenaeus and Alexander is owing to rejecting a good conscience (1 Timothy 1:18–20).
The shipwreck of those who escape defilements in 2 Peter is that they become entangled with the defilements of the world (2 Peter 2:20).
The warning against shipwreck in Hebrews 3 is a warning against the deceitfulness of sin (Hebrews 3:12–14).

From this I conclude that even though there may be real intellectual struggles — say, with the historical truthfulness of the Bible or with the justice of the ways of God — nevertheless, most shipwrecks of faith are not at root intellectual, but rather because I want what I want and Christianity is in the way. So, let’s pray for those who have turned away, not only that they would see the way of truth as true, but that they would delight in the way of holiness.

Even though I am a missionary who depends desperately on prayer as my team and I serve among one of the largest unreached people groups in the world, I often find my personal prayers to be overly self-oriented. Perhaps others can relate.

As fallen humans, we all struggle with the disease of selfishness, which can extend even to our prayer lives. We can struggle to stop and pray at all. And when we finally manage, we can find our hearts and minds immediately filled with concerns about our jobs, our health, our relationships, and our unmet longings. As a result, our prayers can center simply on our own comfort and desires. And in a world filled with threats from sin, sickness, and weakness, our orientation toward self can easily even give way to anxiety and fear.

Many of us know that the Bible teaches us to orient our prayers toward the glory of God and the coming of his kingdom (Matthew 6:9–10). We may not know, however, how much power might come from such praying. This power rescues us from a narrow life and gives us grace to see God’s will accomplished on earth as it is in heaven.

Jesus promises that when we seek God’s kingdom first, our anxieties will fade, and everything we need will be given (Matthew 6:33). We can seek God’s kingdom in many ways, but nothing is more fundamental to this pursuit than simply asking for his kingdom to come in prayer.

‘Your Kingdom Come’

When Jesus offered a pattern of prayer for the church, he taught us to pray for God’s kingdom to come as the second petition of six (Matthew 6:10). There is a sequence and priority to the order he gives; thus, praying for God’s kingdom is extraordinarily important. We are right to pray for our own comfort and happiness and daily bread, but we cannot pray rightly for our own well-being or even for others without giving glory to God and seeking his kingdom in prayer.

It is also true that as we seek God’s kingdom through prayer, we will find the deepest comfort and happiness God made us for. As the Dutch theologian Herman Witsius once wrote, “In this kingdom all our happiness is placed” (Sacred Dissertations on the Lord’s Prayer, 242). We can pray for our happiness and fail to pray for the kingdom, but we cannot pray for the kingdom and fail to pray for our happiness.

When our prayers are oriented toward the glory of God and the coming of his kingdom, true comfort and happiness for ourselves and others will follow. This is because praying for God’s kingdom to come aligns our hearts with God’s glorious intentions for the world and gives us the energy and direction needed to join him in achieving his will, regardless of what difficulties we may face. Such praying enables us to better interpret those difficulties as light momentary afflictions preparing us for an eternal weight of glory (2 Corinthians 4:17), which is to come with his kingdom.

Three Requests for the Kingdom

What exactly are we asking for when we pray for God’s kingdom to come? The answer to question 102 in the Westminster Shorter Catechism provides an excellent summary:

[We] pray that Satan’s kingdom may be destroyed; and that the kingdom of grace may be advanced, ourselves and others brought into it, and kept in it; and the kingdom of glory may be hastened.

Each of these elements deserves further reflection.

1. Destroy the kingdom of darkness.

First, we pray that Satan’s kingdom may be destroyed. Here we are acknowledging that we live in the already–not yet kingdom. Christ has won the decisive victory over sin and Satan, and Jesus reigns over all things in heaven. However, Satan remains the active prince of the power of the air (Ephesians 2:2), a roaring lion seeking for someone to devour (1 Peter 5:8). He has “blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:4). His kingdom must fall in order for the kingdom of Christ to be fully established. Praying, “Your kingdom come,” then, is an act of faithful allegiance to the rightful rule of Christ and an act of courageous rebellion against the tyranny of Satan.

Consider the implications of God’s kingdom coming and Satan’s kingdom toppling for missions among unreached people groups. The remaining unreached parts of the world remain unreached because they are, spiritually speaking, strongholds of Satan. They are strongholds not because the people in these places are worse sinners than we are, but because there is powerful and persistent spiritual resistance to gospel proclamation in various forms. These are places where “the demons are deep” (to borrow an expression from my pastor back home), and it seems impossible for God’s church to grow. These are often places where faithful messengers have proclaimed the gospel seemingly to no avail.

In Mark 9:14–29, we see Jesus encounter a situation where the demons were deep, and his apostles failed to cast them out. Jesus gently exhorts his apostles, saying, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.” The remaining unreached parts of the world are filled with “this kind.” Martyn Lloyd-Jones expounds upon what Jesus is saying in this passage: “You failed there . . . because you did not have sufficient power. . . . You will never be able to deal with ‘this kind’ unless you have applied to God for the power which he alone can give you” (Revival, 18–19).

“If we want to see unreached peoples reached, we need to pray with impudent persistence.”

If we want to see unreached peoples reached, we need to pray with impudent persistence (Luke 11:5–13; 18:1–8) for Satan’s kingdom to be destroyed and for the kingdom of God to be established.

2. Advance the kingdom of grace.

Second, we pray that the kingdom of grace may be advanced. The kingdom of grace is the kingdom of Christ that we enjoy already in the church. It is the kingdom Christ rules that is not of this world (John 18:36), the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 10:7). As the Dutch theologian Wilhelmus à Brakel describes, this kingdom “redounds to the glorification of God” because it is the place and the people wherein God makes his glory known (The Christian’s Reasonable Service, 3:512). This kingdom shines because its subjects are being transformed from one degree of glory to the next by the Spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18; 4:6). Praying, “Your kingdom come,” then, means asking God to cause the church to thrive in every nation, and especially through the ministry of a multitude of local churches.

We pray for the church to be holy and shine brightly in a dark world. We pray for reformation in doctrine and unity in love. We ask for renewal of the saints and conversions of the lost by the Holy Spirit. We pray for churches to grow and multiply. We do not simply pray for the success of our own local churches and ministries. Rather, we pray that every nation would be transformed through the power of the gospel, proclaimed by the entire church, so that the gates of hell would not triumph against this kingdom of grace (Matthew 16:18). We pray for our family, our neighbors, ourselves, and our enemies. And we do so with reference to the kingdom of grace to which we belong by the mercy of Christ.

3. Hasten the kingdom of glory.

Finally, we pray that the kingdom of glory may be hastened. The English Puritan Thomas Watson explains that the kingdoms of grace and glory “differ not in nature, but degree only.” The kingdom of grace grows into the kingdom of glory. The kingdom of glory is the full and final eschatological kingdom of Christ. It is more than a heavenly kingdom; it is the kingdom of heaven come to an earth made new (Revelation 11:15; 21:1–3).

“Orienting our prayers toward the glory of God and the coming of his kingdom rescues us from the kingdom of self.”

Here, we pray for our Lord, King Jesus, to come quickly (Revelation 22:20). We ask for God’s glory to be enjoyed without the marring of sin and suffering. We ask for a kingdom of peace and righteousness to flourish (Hebrews 7:2). We ask for justice to be faithfully brought forth (Isaiah 42:1–4). We ask for the full experience of these blessings, and that God would allow us to enjoy them even now in part through the kingdom of grace.

Zacharias Ursinus, one of the authors of the Heidelberg Catechism, describes the kingdom of glory like this: “There will be no enemies to subdue; but the church will reign gloriously with Christ and God shall be all in all; that is, he will manifest and communicate himself immediately to the blessed” (Commentary on the Heidelberg Catechism, 634). We pray for that day to come when we will see our Lord face to face in glorious love (1 Corinthians 13:12).

In God’s mysterious providence, we are invited to take a real part in ushering in this kingdom through prayer. Orienting our prayers toward the glory of God and the coming of his kingdom rescues us from the kingdom of self and all our inward spirals, and it sends our hearts and imaginations soaring into the foretastes of eternal glory. “Lord, let your kingdom come!”